Lunar Light

by Penelope Fletcher

  The Shaman in me flinched at the idea. We’d played with the weather enough. With a groan I pulled myself from her and jumped up. I held out a hand to help her up. “Let’s go back to your cabin.”

  She ignored my offered hand and stood by herself. “The weather will hold if we call a storm to slow him down. It might even kill him if we’re lucky.”

  My hand dropped and I took her by the shoulders. “You refuse to feed your Wendiga, yet you have no problem killing men as a human?”

  Shrugging me off she placed her hands on her hips and glared. “Of course I have a problem with it. But it needs to be done. I cherish life, but these men are not innocent backpackers or lost tourists. These are hunters who would just as soon shoot me in the head if they knew what I was. This is survival. There is a difference.”

  “But it’s not your own survival you’re fighting for. It’s mine.”

  Her face became wary. She stepped away. “We should start tracking him if we’re not going to call a storm.”

  Oh no she didn’t. I reached for her but she backed away, eyes wide and terrified. “Stop avoiding me.”

  She lifted her chin and looked at me through her lashes. “What a stupid thing to say. I’m right here.”

  I grabbed her arm and yanked her into me. Looking deep into her eyes I tried to hold her gaze. When it fell I slipped a finger under her chin and tipped her head up until she looked at me. “Stop avoiding me,” I repeated, knowing she knew exactly what I meant.

  There was defiance in her countenance, but the longer I held her the more it slipped away. Bottom lip trembling in a rare display of vulnerability her face fell into a blank mask. Her eyes darkened even as the first tear welled in her eye and slipped down her cheek.

  Evangeline

  I couldn’t breathe. “How do you stand it? The constant hunger and … fear,” I asked quietly, willing my tears to cease.

  “I fear nothing.”

  I sent Luke a level look through my tear-spiked lashes. “Everybody fears something. Everybody.”

  “What are you frightened of?” There was a significant pause. “Your father’s cane?”

  I snorted and rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes. “No. He doesn’t scare me.”

  “Are frightened of us and what we mean to each other?”

  Sighing, I twiddled the end of my hair then pulled it all over my shoulder to run my fingers through it. Didn’t he see that we were wraiths? Twisted, evil things bolstering the foundations of waking nightmares. We couldn’t truly love another. It wasn’t in our nature. But every time I looked into his eyes something inside me started screaming in joy. Bliss trilled through my limbs and my heart took flight. The longer I was with him the worse it got. I wanted to protect him, above all others.

  Was this normal? Was the Wendiga somehow taking over my human form as well? The thought was enough to terrorize me into complete stillness.

  Luke’s grip on my arm tightened, he pulled me forward and tipped my chin up with his other hand.

  His glacial eyes bored into mine, swept me away. “Listen to me carefully, sweetheart. I was born this way. So were you. There is nothing that can take away what we are.” He lowered his lips to mine and whispered against my lips. “So stop bitching and enjoy it.”

  He kissed me and the whole world fell away. There was nothing remotely submissive or accepting in this kiss. It was a bold faced challenge. Pushing him back with my body I accepted him and dared him to take more. His tongue battled with mine and he clutched my face, let his hands trail down my neck, over my shoulders before wrapping around my upper arms. I gasped loudly when his mouth wrenched from mine and he fell to his knees. He kissed my navel and touched me in just the right spot. I shuddered and would have buckled but he hooked one of my legs over his shoulder and clamped his hands on my hips.

  His tongue swirled around my wetness before darting inside me and I whimpered, grasped handfuls of his hair and pulled him away. Pushing him over, I straddled him and he let me hold onto his wrists as I lowered myself onto his rigid shaft, keeping eye contact the entire journey down. The sting was there, but I barely felt it. I wanted more, needed more, and no small thing like never having been this intimate with a man before was going to stop me from taking my pleasure. I’d waited too long, and Luke was simply the perfect choice. I could lie and say his flesh penetrating mine was the most heart wrenching experience of my life, and that I gazed into his eyes lovingly. But then I’d have to go to confession because the truth was I could barely form a coherent thought other than the loud chanting of, “Yes, yes, fuck, yes!” And that was probably best because the need was so acute it bordered on pain. I doubted anything I said would have been at all ladylike. The only cure for my madness was him, him deep inside me. His expression was fierce, focused as I sank down onto him. Sheathing him completely I rocked so I was impaled to the hilt. Pausing mid grind, I shuddered then finished the roll of my hips in one slow stroke. I bit my lip as his head fell back and he groaned. I threw my head back and rode him, gradually picking up speed. I liked this, the sense of control and dominance. My thighs clenched and with every grind I increased the pace, felt my body dragging on him as he slipped in and out of my flesh.

  It felt so good I slammed myself down and stopped again, keeping myself pressed into him so my nub was rubbing against him. I clenched, feeling him swell even bigger inside me so I squeezed my inner muscles even tighter. Making a half choked sound, he swore and rolled us over so he loomed over me. Still inside me he pulled my leg up and hooked it over his shoulder. He kissed my calf then thrust forward, sinking further into me and I arched off the floor. There was something sinful and decant in laying sprawled in the snow in the daylight being pounded into by a man who knew how to respond to every gasp from my lips, every shift of my pelvis.

  I leaned up and licked his jaw. The wild taste of him had my stomach contracting painfully. Suddenly, I battled the carnal and almost irresistible urge to sink my teeth into him. Shame cut into the passion and I felt my face and heart sink at my own wickedness.

  “Yes,” he rasped and mashed his lips against mine, sucked my tongue into his mouth. “Bite me. Shift with me.”

  He pulled back to grind deeper and sank his teeth into swell of my breast. Pleasure radiated form the bite and he closed his entire mouth around my nipple and sucked. My eyes pressed closed at the sensation that rolled across my chest from the spot and I squirmed. His hand cupped the nape of my neck and pulled my head up to his chest, pressing gently, urging.

  This was okay? I could do this and not hurt him? The realization he could take what I dished out had a new intensity surging through me, and lighting every pore of my being with need and hope.

  A brief rub with my lips at his collarbone, the lightest of touches with the tip of my tongue … then I opened my mouth wide and sank my teeth into him. My eyes flew open as his blood gushed down my throat.

  Shuddering and growling, Luke thrust forward one last time and I broke, back arching off the floor and nails digging into his lower back. As I screamed the first spasms of the shift ripped through my body and my spines slammed out. The pain was glorious, amplifying every sensation to the point of bliss. Luke snarled above me; pupils dilating, body convulsing, and his canines descending into twin sabers. He was still hard and inside of me, hips bucking. I scratched at his back and thrashed my head – the assault of feeling too much to control. I shifted fully first and pushed him off me. His own change completed as he sailed through the air and by the time his paws hit the floor he was the menacing Wendigo I remembered, except now I was in beast form too.

  Luke was huge, at least nine feet tall and was built. Bands of muscle bulged across his pectorals and abs. His waist wasn’t as narrow as mine and was less feminine. Nothing about him was womanly. He was one long and hard slab of muscle. His skin tone was warmer than mine, and a beautiful blend of deep blue and mottled indigo. His hair seemed even darker and his eyes were inky puddles of curiosity. His paws were huge, even with
his heels lifted off the floor. Two of my prints could fit into his. He paced forward, the sharp black claws on his hands flexing. He circled me and rubbed himself into my back. His tongue snaked out to slide over the pulse point on my neck. His Wendigo was coming forward making his movements wilder and more intuitive. I pushed him away, my nose stuck up in the air. He tried to touch me and I snarled, batted his hand away. He bristled, but backed away. Satisfied he got the message I sniffed then breathed in and my head snapped round.

  Blood. I smelt blood and fear. My stomach rumbled like thunder and my mouth watered. Hungry.

  The Wendigo waited for me to take the lead, years of Clan life guiding his actions. What really irked me was that even now I could see and sense Luke behind this Wendigo. The way he looked at me, cocked his head, and leaned back on his heel. Even his facial expressions were Luke’s. He was still there, present even though his Wendigo was free.

  I got irritated with my own beast that screamed at me to let her out. I shook my head. Not yet. The Wendiga couldn’t take over yet. I wasn’t ready.

  I picked up the trail in moments. My nostrils flared and the smell of sweat and fear saturated the air and was like an arrow to our quarry. My heart started to pound and my mouth dried. My stomach contracted painfully and I shifted on the spot, short-tempered. I clung on mentally, clutching onto my human thoughts by proverbial fingernails.

  My Wendiga growled in disapproval and repeatedly slammed at the door, demanding to be let free.

  Luke brushed up against me again and his claws raked across my hip, drawing blood, but my skin healed over instantly. He sniffed at my neck and his tongue lapped at shoulder. It seemed he liked licking me.

  I snarled and snapped at him, again warning him to take it easy. He rumbled and it was almost a laugh.

  My nostrils flared as I scented the fear again and I slinked forward, no longer caring that I was falling into that hazy place where I had no control. We needed to control this threat and I needed to feed.

  Luke bolted in front of me, hot on the trail and for a moment I stood stunned as he blazed passed, flowing across the land as if he owned it. I waited for the rage and possession to flood over me for this invading Wendigo to think he could lead the chase on my land, my territory, but there was nothing but excitement and the urge to play. My Wendiga was happy he was here and wanted to follow after him. Obliging her I started after him. I’d been running less than a mile – following the scent of death and storms – before I came across Luke already on our prey, holding him down by the throat.

  With a low growl I cocked my head at him, wondering why he had stopped. He beckoned to me with a jerk of his head and a low purr.

  The man on the floor writhed and cried out pitifully. Acting just like the wounded victim he was and it shredded the last of my control.

  Blood pounded through my veins and my vision blinkered. I was sucked backward and pulled under even as something wild and ferocious pushed past and clambered up. My Wendiga ripped down the door that I was no longer holding closed and flooded my senses.

  My world became chaos. Screams. Blood. Terror. It was intoxicating. It was always this way and only did I get a vague sense of satisfaction as my Wendiga prowled around playing her sick and twisted games. I was trapped in my own body, a slave to her beastly nature. Forced to endure her cruelty and malice to feel the after effects of her bloody sport in the hidden corner of my mind I was bound to.

  Something shifted suddenly as I saw a glint of light in the darkness. Someone called my name, firm and commanding. Luke? There! My name was called again, but fainter this time. I lurched forward into the light, panicked that it would be smothered and I would be alone in the dark. Already it flickered as the Wendiga tried to snuff it out so she could rein more terror upon the world.

  Anger zinged through me. Luke was mine and he called to me. I would answer and she would not stop me.

  I reached the light and clasped it in both hands. I brought it to cover my heart and blinked slowly as it warmed me, and a sense of inner peace washed over me.

  The darkness melted away to leave the failing daylight and the forest – my forest. My mountain. Home. The only home I’d ever known. Safety. I opened my hands and looked down on my claws, my pale blue palms.

  The man beneath my talons feet cried out, face terrified, and the manic glee that trilled through me was enough to have me howling at the sky. Christ, she’d made a mess of him. Enough, he’d had enough. I leaned my weight down and his spine snapped, his body going limp. He gurgled, blood sputtering from his gaping mouth. He shuddered and was still.

  Luke hovered nearby, not intruding upon my blood bath since I paced the space, feral and twitching. He recognized a superior predator when he saw one. I felt invincible, untouchable in Wendiga form. A force of nature none could withstand and I would have been happy to remain in this form forever, but he beast was sated.

  My skin rippled, tightening around my limbs as my spines retracted. My feet, hands and waist melted into normal human proportions rather than the elongated perversion of the Wendiga. My mouth plumped, flesh spreading across lean bones to leave me feeling pudgy, heavy. Quivering from the pain I twitched and stared at the carcass beneath me, bewildered. In Wendiga form it had been food. Now it was a disemboweled man missing various organs, patches of skin, and chunks of flesh. I retched but forced myself to hold it down. If I vomited I would become too hungry to keep the beast at bay.

  I could taste the dead man in my mouth. I wiped aware the gore, heaving when it smeared thickly over the back of my hand, pushing the salty scent deep into my nose that even now smelt glorious.

  There was the sound of my raspy breath and the rushing river. I stumbled over to the waters edge and thrust my hands into the clear liquid, watching streaks of red lighten to pink as it washed away a life. I scooped up the water and flung it at my face, gasping as the coldness shrunk my pores and ran down my chest, freezing me. Leaning over I wiped my chin and lips, swilled the water in my mouth until I could only taste myself. But my hands. They were still dirty, covered with a bright splash of colour, haunting me with what I had done. Fingers back in the water and spread into a fan so the cold could seep into the edges I waved them about madly not understanding why I could not get rid of the disgusting reminder.

  There was a soft footfall, a crunch, and shift of hard packed snow behind me. I sprang up, heart beating fast, eyes wide with guilt.

  Luke stood naked as the day he was born, human again. He too was drenched in blood, but rather than half mad with guilt he looked strong, healthy, and at peace.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was even but I heard the strain of concern.

  The fear receded to leave an echo of self-loathing. At least he was not going to beat me or burn a cross into my arm.

  At this selfish thought I crouched back down and scrubbed at my hands, already burning and red raw. “It won’t come off,” I babbled. “All this cleansing water and it won’t come off. Maybe I need….” I grabbed a handful of icy snow and rubbed my palms together, feeling better with each skin-tearing scrape. I embraced the pain. I should be hurt for I was evil, you see. I needed to be cleansed of the darkness that tainted me.

  My hands were scarlet, dripping. Blood. Always was I covered in blood and wallowing in death.

  Luke came up behind me and knelt down to place his hands on my wrists to stop my furious scrubbing. “Calm, now.” He slid his hands over mine, helping me wash away the guilt and shame.

  And then there was the first pang of hunger. Scrunching my eyes shut I sent up a quick prayer that it would stop. Another deeper pang ripped across my middle. Never did the hunger rest and never did it allow peace.

  He rubbed his cheek on my shoulder. “There, isn’t that better, sweetheart?”

  I was a monster. A flesh-eating demon possessed by an evil spirit, what a ridiculous question.

  I jerked up, wiped my icy hands on my bare hips and walked away back toward my cabin.

  It was sad. T
he man had made it so far only to be taken down at the last hurdle.

  The trees towered above, dark and waxy branches rigid. They seemed to condemn me, lean over as if to spear me on pointed boughs. The snow crunched underfoot and unsteady breaths gushed from my wet lips in plumes of warm vapor, visible even in the fog creeping through the forest below the sunset. It was beautiful, the honey gold sky, white hills and green forest. Why did a beast like me get to live in such splendor? Should I not be in a dank cave somewhere in rags gnawing on long dry bones? Why did I get to stay here in this snowy heaven? Monsters should not walk the daylight. We should cower in the dark.

  Luke walked quietly a step behind me; sensing words would not comfort me. Touch would not comfort me.

  As I stalked back I saw my own paw prints, lightly dusted over with fallen snowflakes. Ravens larger paws were close beside mine, weaving in and out lazily. Even our scents were entwined in the crisp air.

  Sometime later, inside my cabin I walked over to the radiator and shackled my ankle. The key was already in the lock so I turned and hurled it out the wide flung window. I didn’t bother to turn on the lights or close the door. I ignored the blankets on the bed and curled into a ball on my side, my chain clinking as I did. I wanted no comfort. Everything had to be cold, stark, and uncomfortable to the point of pain. When I was shivering, my teeth chattering, and the air I dragged into my lungs cold enough to burn only then did I close my eyes tightly, praying to God that the Devil would claim me and I wouldn’t wake up.

  Chapter 9

  Luke

  What the fuck did I do? How did I make her feel better when I before I didn’t understand what was truly wrong? Damn. No wonder she was so weird about her Wendiga. I had no idea it was that bad. The two were almost completely separate, two consciousnesses fighting over the same body. Evangeline literally lost herself when she shifted. She was forced into a corner of her own mind and worse, her beast was allowed to roam free, unchecked, unfettered and totally feral.