by Connie Flynn
He called her name. When she didn't answer, he moved forward. He'd respected her modesty too long. If she was going to be sick, she should have done it by now.
"Dana." One last polite warning before dragging her out. He stepped into a cleft between the trees.
She was gone. He stared down for a minute, his eyes relieved by the shade but his soul quaking in fear for her, then threw back his head and let out an angry sound. Birds scattered everywhere. A deer darted onto the snowbound path, then dashed into the woods on the other side.
Why must she always defy him? All God's creatures feared and despised him. Couldn't she have the sense to do the same?
But he was wasting time with this. She couldn't have gone far. He'd find her, put her over his shoulder again, and take her out of harm's way forever.
The going was rough. Although his sight was better in the dimmer light, his large body often wouldn't fit between the trees, and soon he was tearing out branches, pulling up bushes.
Alive in the daylight, the woods were full of frightened scurrying animals. Quail rose from their nests. Rabbits flew to their holes. A porcupine curled into a ball.
Morgan ignored them, hating how their noises and their putrid smells dulled Dana's trail. He breathed deep and long, hunting for the smallest scent of her, then tried to discern her footsteps in the busy forest.
As he was about to change from man-wolf to full wolf form, he saw her running through a snowy clearing, sometimes slipping, always catching her balance just before she fell. A huge pine, surrounded by smaller offspring, blocked his path. With one leap, he scaled the shorter trees. Just a couple more jumps and he'd be upon her.
Then he saw a dark streak along the clearing's edge. Only a few feet inside the trees, it kept pace with her, slowing when she stumbled, speeding up when she did.
Lily had sent her lapdog out on reconnaissance. The clumsy whelp made a lot of noise that Morgan knew wasn't in Dana's hearing range. She continued wading through the melting snow, one hand clutching her injured shoulder. Morgan smelled blood. Jorje could smell it, too. Orders or not, the scent would incite his hunger.
Would he try to kill Dana? Perhaps Lily had forbidden it. Armed with her cruel sense of justice, she might want to destroy Dana in front of Morgan, so he'd know who'd stolen his chance at redemption.
Just then, the wolfling exploded from the forest. His pads were soft; they made no sound. Dana's back was to him; she'd stumbled yet again.
With a loud warning snarl, Morgan alchemized to four legs, then shot after Jorje, crying Dana's name. She turned toward him with a resigned look, still not seeing the other werewolf coming from behind.
With a powerful thrust, Jorje leaped toward Dana's back.
Morgan tightened his haunches and flew at the lapdog's throat, colliding with him midair.
The smaller werewolf yelped and rolled, then scrambled to his feet. Dana screamed, calling Morgan's name.
"Run for the cabin, Dana," Morgan cried, keeping her in his side vision as he crouched for another attack.
She whirled away, whirled back, her eyes darting between Morgan and the whelp. Behind her, the falling sun cast dizzying kaleidoscope of light on the snow. Morgan could barely see and was unprepared for the weight that struck his shoulder.
Teeth clamped down. Jorje shook his head, snarling furiously, ripping into Morgan's ear. Blood ran into his eyes, dimming his eyesight further, and his attempts to break free caused greater pain. He steeled himself for the eventual tear that would release him.
The pain got more intense. As his sense of time and place began to fade, he saw a huge branch descend, then heard a loud crack. Jorje screamed and released his hold. Dana stood above them both, holding the branch like a club.
Jorje lunged at her. His balance was off and he missed his mark, fell on his side, then quickly scrambled to his feet.
"Get out of here, goddammit!" Morgan screamed, putting himself between Dana and the other werewolf. "I don't need your help!"
She did run then, slipping and sliding on the snow. Jorje feinted to the right, tried to dash left. Morgan was too quick for him. In an instant, he had the lapdog on its back, his fangs at its throat.
"I have no quarrel with you," Jorje whimpered in the Lupine language. "Just give me the woman."
"She is of my pack and under my protection," Morgan growled, but he backed off anyway.
"Lone wolves have no pack." Jorje spit at him. Rather stupidly, Morgan thought, considering he'd had the cur's jugular between his teeth just seconds before. "I do not know why Lily suffers you to live."
"Go back and tell her the woman will be gone from the mountain by sunset. We will not do the Shadow of Venus tonight." Morgan turned his head away, refusing to keep the lapdog in his sight another second. "As for you, you need not trouble yourself about me any longer. I've found another way to escape."
"You cannot escape. Law is law."
"Yes, and I will abide by it enough not to kill you, worthless whelp that you are." Morgan longed to return to human form. His ear hurt like blazes and the sun was killing his eyes. "Now get out of here before I change my mind!"
Jorje warily backed away, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Morgan. When he disappeared into the shadows of the trees, Morgan allowed himself to shapeshift. But only long enough to heal.
He couldn't let the wolfling run free with Dana still moving about. But he had time. There was no danger of losing the trail, even with the sensory overload of the daytime forest. A werewolf's scent was unmistakable.
* * *
When Morgan got back to the cabin, he found the door wide open. He paused in dread. Would he find his lovely Dana torn apart in there? After catching up with Jorje, he'd tracked him to the den he shared with Lily and sealed its door shut after him. Had Lily somehow escaped already and made her way to the cabin . . . ?
He lowered his head with impending grief and stepped inside.
Except for the dying fire, all was as he'd left it. Not a speck of blood marked the walls or floors. Dana's bag still sat on the floor. The bedcover still had the wrinkles their bodies had caused. Water still dripped slowly in the pan under the pump.
Werewolves hadn't been here.
For once, he felt thankful for The Law, and for Lily's abidance of it.
But where had Dana gone?
He inspected the front room thoroughly, searching for missing items, and his eyes came to rest on the pegged rack. The jumpsuit was gone. He also noticed a conspicuous absence on the bedside table. Quickly, he scanned the bookshelves.
The Book and the portfolio were both missing.
Hoping he was incorrectly jumping to conclusions, Morgan entered his bedroom. When he saw the empty hook, he groaned and stumbled to the wardrobe. As he'd suspected, Dana had also taken the fur robes and the holy water. He should never have let her read the portfolio. She'd studied it too quickly and too well.
At least he knew where to find her.
The planets, it seemed, couldn't be thwarted. Whether he willed it or not, the Shadow of Venus would take place that night.
* * *
Aphrodite's feet were tangled in her harness straps again. Damn, Dana thought she'd finally gotten it right, but obviously she hadn't. Breathing a curse, she laid the portfolio carefully on top of the burdens on the sled, then climbed off and waded through the slush.
Although her legs and hands weren't trembling as badly as they had during her rush to collect everything, they still were weak and unreliable, and the gown bunched beneath her jumpsuit hindered her mobility. It took quite a bit of fumbling to untangle the poor frustrated dog.
When she was finally freed, Aphrodite lunged forward, pulling the other dogs after her. They weren't prepared, and Fenris tottered, almost fell. Then the team took off, and Dana barely managed to leap on the runners in time to keep the portfolio from slipping off.
She scanned the instructions for the ceremony once again, knowing she had to commit it to memory. Daylight was rapidly slipp
ing away, and she wouldn't get another chance when it was gone.
They reached the rocky trail without further incident, and Dana took note of the lengthening shadows. She knew she should be terrified, but now she felt only icy calm. She called the dogs to a halt, then got off to unleash all seven.
Seven canine servants of man, the text had said, must witness the soul's redemption. Christen them with holy water, devoted lover, and bestow names of ancient Gods and Goddesses. Thus, the spirits of these deities will strengthen their will to serve.
Why seven? Dana wondered, but she dared not skip a single step, even if she didn't understand it. She lifted a bundle from the sled and started down the path, calling the team to follow. They tumbled down gleefully.
Dana's heavy cargo slowed her down, and by the time she reached the bottom, the dogs were rolling in the dirt, jumping on one another, completely undaunted by the tall, foreboding obelisks. Fenris raced around one, scattering snow, and Dana sternly told him to heel. Odin started into the forest, and she had to call him back.
She had no idea how to control them all while she went about her business. In frustration, she repeated what she'd read in the text.
"All be still."
As the pages promised, all seven came near the edge of the fire pit, then fanned out in a large circle. Obviously Morgan had prepared them for this night.
Lowering her bundle to the ground, Dana quickly untied it and pulled out a small bottle with a cork stopper and a long string attached to each side. Blessed in the Vatican, the label said.
Bracing herself for the chill to come, she unzipped the jumpsuit and stepped out. The white skirt fell to just above her ankles, and though the breeze was slight, it nonetheless whipped the gauzy folds around her legs. She felt momentarily reverent, as if she wore a wedding gown, and looked down, dismayed to see the ride inside the jumpsuit had crumpled the fabric. Feeling as if she'd committed a kind of blasphemy, she shook her head. What did a few wrinkles matter? They'd soon blow out.
She dropped the string over her neck, let the bottle fall between her breasts, and searched for a suitable stick. When she found one, she began solemnly drawing a circle inside the ring the dogs had formed. Unbroken, she reminded herself, it must be unbroken, and she inspected it nervously as she worked. She mustn't hesitate; she was losing light. After she finished, she skirted the perimeter, spilling drops of holy water every few inches, reciting a spell for protection. If the consequences of this night weren't so potentially disastrous, she would have felt silly.
When that was done, she moved to the dogs, who still sat quietly. First she approached Aphrodite and sprinkled water on her great white head. "Aphrodite, goddess of love. Protect my love and me through the long night."
Aphrodite dipped her head and Dana moved to anoint Zeus. "Oh, great Zeus. Father of the skies, watch over us."
Zeus nodded, too. Dana turned to the namesake of the Norse god Odin, beseeching his wisdom, then next to Freya, asking that she rise on falcon wings and watch over them.
"Queen Persephone," she chanted next, the water fairly flowing from her fingers now. "Defeat the foul god Pluto, and you, Shakti, bring rebirth to my love."
Finally she got to Fenris. "Oh, Fenris-wolf," she cried, bestowing holy water between his glowing eyes. "Rise and fight all who would oppose our quest."
Instead of dipping his head like the others, Fenris arched back and emitted a long howl. Dana stood in front of him while the cry rebounded off the rock walls and obelisks. Finally it faded.
When all was silent, she returned to the bundle and took out seven split logs, which she carried to the fire pit. The scratchy bark stung her chilled fingertips, making it harder to stack them precisely as directed. One fell away from the complex arrangement and she stifled a curse.
The uncertainty she'd felt since leaving the cabin came back in a rush. Would Morgan come? What if he'd been seriously hurt in his fight with the other wolf? Even killed?
She couldn't let a single doubt intrude. He was bigger and stronger than the other one. As surely as the sun would set, he would come. Holding that thought close to her heart, she reset the final log. Next, she gathered kindling. When she'd arranged it around the logs, she struck a match and dropped it in the pit. The damp twigs and leaves smoldered, went out. She lit and dropped another match. Several attempts later, the logs caught fire and she held her icy hands over the flame, trying to warm them up.
Beyond the trees, rivaling the dancing reds and oranges in the pit, was the sky. Dazzling pinks, incomparable blues, and brilliant silvers streaked through the billowing cloud cover. Then the colors faded and the sky began to dim.
Just then, she heard a terrible roar. A mountainous form came sailing down from the air above her. Dana whirled and leaped into the circle, praying its protection wouldn't fail.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The tremendous form thudded to a landing just behind the sitting dogs. Fire reflected in its savage eyes, glinted off a fang. Dana's nerves exploded. She screamed repeatedly. The dogs shuffled, began to whine entreatingly, and still she screamed.
"Quiet, Dana!" The mountainous shape moved closer and stroked Aphrodite's head. Immediately, the pack calmed down. "You're scaring the hell out of the dogs."
Her next cry died painfully in her throat and her knees grew weak. It was only Morgan. He had come. She was safe. She rushed from the circle and wrapped her arms as far as she could around his huge chest, burying her face in his smooth coat.
"Oh, Morgan, you came. I was so afraid you'd been hurt."
"Get back in the circle!"
Stunned by his harshness, Dana stepped back. "Why? There's still daylight left."
Ignoring her protests, Morgan lifted her, then dropped her in the circle so quickly she had to struggle to stay on her feet. He staggered from the ring's perimeter, his body jerking several times. After regaining his footing, he fixed her with a stare.
"Never trust me on a night such as this! And look away."
"But the moon hasn't risen yet.”
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing," he mumbled irritably, bending down for one of the fur robes Dana had carried her things in. He tossed it to her. "Wrap up! Then explain why you must always defy me."
Dana hadn't taken time to imagine Morgan's reaction when he realized she'd prepared for the ceremony, but this certainly wasn't what she'd pictured. Her lower lip began to tremble. She bit it fiercely.
"If you have to ask . ." She knew she should be terrified, but all she felt was a deep and terrible hurt. If he loved her as she loved him . . .
She turned her back, spoke into the empty, darkening night. "So we can be together. I love you, Morgan."
"Dana." The rough timbre left his voice.
Dana glanced up and saw him standing naked in the firelight. He'd alchemized to human form while she'd been staring into the dark, and now looked so gloriously fierce that Dana's love burst anew. She turned, about the leave the circle once more.
Morgan put up a warning hand. "It's because I love you, too, that I tried to prevent this."
He glanced up. Dana's eyes moved in tandem with his and she saw pale twilight overhead. Gloom was nearly upon them.
He shivered and she did, too. "Wrap up," he said again, more kindly, then moved to pick up the second robe. "The cold is bitter."
Pulling the fur close to his neck, he gazed around. Dana saw him take in the carefully laid fire, the precise circle on the ground, the meticulously arranged dogs. Finally his eyes came to rest on the small bottle hanging from her neck.
"You've done well, Dana." He lowered himself agilely near the edge of the circle and sat tailor-fashion. "Now we have to talk."
The crease on his forehead had deepened so much his eyebrows seemed to touch. Dana's heart sank. After all this, he would still send her away. Pulling her skirts into the protection of the fur, she sank to the ground, eyes downcast, dreading what she knew would come.
"If anyone can survive this night," Morgan
said, "we can."
Dana jerked her head up and smiled tremulously. "You mean it?"
Morgan's face softened. A small smile played around his lips and he didn't try to smother it. "How can I refuse so brave a lady?" He looked up, saw the sun sinking in the darkening sky. "Our lives are in the hands of Venus."
Dana nodded gravely. Morgan could still see a glimmer of green in her beautiful eyes. But not for long. Soon all would be shades of gray. Even then, though, she would fill his soul with light and color.
"You really do love me," he whispered, so softly he saw she strained to hear.
"With all my heart."
"I love you just as deeply, Dana. Please believe I do."
"I know." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "And love will protect us."
"We can only hope." He reached into the circle and brushed a trickling tear off Dana's cheek. This time he felt no repulsing shock. In human form he could pass through the sanctified line as he wished. But later, thank the heavens, it would keep her safe from him. Unless she failed to . . .
"Some warnings," he said sternly, desperately wanting Dana to follow every last instruction. "When the moon rises, I'll instinctively alchemize. Although I know I have less control of my impulses during a full moon, I'm not sure how much less. I've chained myself on nights such as this to keep from finding out. Most of the time, I fall into a haze, and when I awake I remember little of what happens."
Pausing briefly, he got lost in watching the firelight dance in Dana's green eyes. He might lose her tonight, and the possibility chilled him so thoroughly he dared not think a bout it. Dana waited expectantly until he continued.
"Perhaps I'll have more control than I think I will, but we can't count on it. I may fall into the darkest side of myself. If so, I'll . . ." He looked away. "I'll try to kill you. I know you've read the ceremony, so please remember the most important part. Don't ever meet my eyes. I might beg you to look at me, to invite me into the circle." He drew a hand along the line in the dirt. "It's the only way I can cross."