by Connie Flynn
He held out a small bottle, which he put in Dana's hand. "Keep it always. Its return is a good omen."
With a smile, Dana took it and rolled it between her fingers. It was still half-full of holy water. Maybe she and Morgan would use it to christen their children. "Always the cryptic one, aren't you?"
White Hawk laughed, then bent to stroke Fenris, running his finger along the dog's tattered ear. "Your brave pet is faring well."
"He'd do better if he'd stop chewing on his splint," Morgan grumbled.
"Leave him alone," Dana shot back. "Besides, we'll take him to a vet as soon as we get out of here."
Fenris scampered off and joined the other dogs. For a short time, they all stood and watched the dogs play in the sodden meadow, enjoying themselves despite their angry red wounds and missing patches of fur.
"The runt does well on three legs," White Hawk said.
"He should. Any dog with heart enough to attack Lily ." Dana let her words drift off. Already, the ritual was becoming a dimly remembered nightmare, and it seemed incredible it all happened only the night before last. Her face darkened, and she turned toward the porch of the cabin where they'd left the backpacks they'd be carrying down.
She heard the men following. When she cleared the top step, she turned and looked at Tony. "We can't thank you enough for all you've done."
He put up his hands. "No need."
"There is," said Morgan. "If you hadn't helped Dana get me out of the clearing . . . She could never have done it without you."
Dana moved forward and gave White Hawk a hug. "I hope we see you again," she said thickly. She stepped back, and Morgan watched her gaze around as if seeing the mesa for the first time. Suddenly, a startled expression crossed her face, and she asked a question, speaking in a horrified whisper. "What about Lily?"
"You didn't know?"
White Hawk's voice contained surprise, something Morgan had never heard from him before. He felt a rush of alarm.
"Know what?" he asked.
"Just as Venus transformed you, my friend, so she transformed Lily."
"You mean she's not a werewolf anymore?" Dana's voice held a host of emotions.
Morgan didn't understand why White Hawk sounded so solemn. This was cause for celebration. Finally, he was free. Lily would never come after him again. "How do you know?"
"I saw her before the officials took her away."
"I wish you could have killed her," Dana said. "She's evil. She . . . deserves to die."
"I felt the temptation. Were it not for the children . . ." White Hawk turned his face away, but not before Morgan saw pain in his eyes.
"Children?" Morgan echoed.
"Lily never killed the children."
"That explains it," Dana remarked. "I became intrigued about the wolf slaughters in the first place because they'd passed over a child. It wasn't typical wolf behavior."
This stirred Morgan's memory of Lily saying she always spared the children. But he still didn't understand. "Does that suddenly make her a saint?" he asked harshly.
"Not in my book," White Hawk replied. "But some think it makes room for mercy. Regardless, this wasn't for me to act upon. The tribunal will decide."
Then he slipped his hood onto his head. "Don't do that creepy stuff, Tony," Dana protested.
But already the hawk's eyes peered at them. Morgan awaited the prophecy he knew would issue from the beak.
"Out of the skies will come a warrior. With neither weapon nor shield, he will rein in the white beast and take her to face her victims. Naked and ashamed, she shall gaze upon their anguished faces and quail from the agony in their cries and know what she has done . . ."
Dana moved closer to Morgan. He reached out. The dogs stopped playing on the mesa and turned toward them.
White Hawk dropped his hood.
"Whoa!" he said. "That was pretty creepy."
Dana and Morgan chuckled uneasily, then she picked up her backpack. White Hawk secured it for her, and when that was done, he helped Morgan into his.
"So, you're on your way?"
Morgan and Dana nodded simultaneously. "You sure you don't want the cabin?" Morgan asked.
"It's a kind offer, but the People are simple and we prefer our pueblos." He looked off into the distance. "Besides, your chimney draws the attention of civilized man, and he is already encroaching far too rapidly."
"Then burn it to the ground. Unless, of course, that will draw attention, too." Morgan laughed bitterly. "After what happened, I suspect the legend of Ebony Canyon will keep folks away for a long time."
"No. They will come. The curiosity-seekers, the hunters." Again Morgan thought he looked solemn, but in the next instant he shook it off and smiled. "Not for some time, though."
"There you go again," Dana responded. "Talking in riddles."
They all laughed. Soon they said good-bye, with Dana giving White Hawk another hug. He remained in the meadow while Morgan and Dana collected the dogs, then stood there watching them as they started down the mountain. After a few turns in the wooded road, they could no longer see him.
A long, cold, muddy hike later, Dana and Morgan arrived at the Ranger. A sticker on the windshield instructed the Forest Service to tow it, and Dana gave a sigh of relief that they hadn't gotten around to it yet. Thankfully, the keys were also still in the ignition.
An enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders. They were really leaving Ebony Canyon. She turned to Morgan, smiling. He looked so wonderfully human as he drew his colorful parka around his beardless jaw.
The previous morning had been the end of the nightmare. Tony had come out of nowhere just as the helicopter closed in. Jorje's body lay in a sun-streaked snow cluster by the trees. Lily was nowhere in sight, and the dogs had gathered around Fenris, whimpering. Dana had been holding Morgan's naked body in her lap, unable to rouse him, terrified, and knowing she had no way of explaining the scene to the highway patrol.
Murmuring encouragement, Tony had helped Dana get Morgan up the path to the sled, then returned for the fallen dog. The sled was barely big enough for both large forms, and the remaining dogs, tired and hurt, strained to pull it. Tony trotted alongside the entire time, urging the dogs on, soothing Dana.
At the cabin, he put Morgan on the daybed—Dana couldn't face the thought of returning to his dark room—and she'd climbed in beside him, huddled next to his chilled body, and prayed he would wake up.
What if the ritual had been too much? She'd seen the pain he'd endured. Maybe he wouldn't survive. Exhausted and distraught, she eventually fell asleep.
Morgan finally awoke and climbed out of bed in a frenzy. He gathered all his drab clothing, took it to a trash heap near the smokehouse, and burned it. Then he'd insisted that Dana shave his beard.
Now, as she gazed at him in the bright blue parka he'd kept in the rear of the wardrobe but had never worn, she reached up and touched his smooth, handsome face. "I love you."
He moved forward, put his arms around her. "Not nearly as much as I love you."
"Oh, my love would be hard to beat." She rubbed her cheek against his jaw. "Mmm," she purred.
"Nice." He rubbed back. "I swear I'll never have a beard or wear gray again."
"What a colorful idea, " Dana joked.
She wanted to stay there forever, but the dogs were milling around.
"They all need a vet's attention," she said with a sigh.
Morgan sighed, too, released her, and called for them. Then he opened the back of the Ranger and told them to pile in.
As Morgan helped Fenris, who was having a hard time due to his injured leg, Dana's eyes drifted to her vehicle. Red. It was red. A memory stirred.
A giant woman shall emerge from the storm on a red steed and tame the wild beast.
Could a four-by-four be considered a steed? Her eyes drifted to the top of the mountain where they'd last seen Tony.
"Morgan!" Dana cried.
Morgan had been buried in the back, trying to rearrange cargo
to make more room for the dogs, and when Dana cried out, he jerked up in alarm.
"Ouch!" He rubbed his head.
"Look!" Dana was pointing to the sky, but the tall trees above the Ranger blocked his view.
"What's so important? You shook me up so bad I hit my head."
"You'll live." Dana wagged her finger urgently. "Look!"
Morgan smiled as he hurried over. This was the woman who'd chanted the Shadow of Venus through the night, the woman he would marry, the woman who would drive him nuts. God, was he a lucky man.
When he reached her side, he put an arm over her shoulder and looked to where she was pointing. His heart skipped a beat.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"Tony burned the cabin."
A huge cloud of smoke covered the northern sky. Dark, thick, swirling, taking the stains on his soul to heaven, or so Morgan felt, leaving him whole and pure and free.
"That's what I think, too." He tightened his embrace and smiled with absolute joy. "Now we'll never have to come back."
Dana didn't say anything, but he knew she understood. She snuggled closer, wrapped her arms around his waist, kissed his cheek. They stood there for a long time, watching the symbol of their horror go up in smoke.
Finally, Dana said, "Let's hit the road."
They headed for the Ranger arm in arm, ready to leave Ebony Canyon forever.
And above, behind their backs, glided a white bird of prey, wings spread wide against the blackened sky.
It cried shrilly, then soared away.
A Note From Connie
Connie Flynn, a bestselling and award-winning author of ten novels and several short stories, also teaches writing and is currently an adjunct professor at Phoenix and Mesa Community Colleges in Arizona. She is a co-founder of Bootcamp for Novelists Online, an internet school with a unique, focused approach to teaching novel writing. She is currently working on a fantasy novel, the first in a proposed five-book series.
Thank you for purchasing SHADOW ON THE MOON. I would love to hear about your reading experience; you can reach me by email
The sequel, SHADOW OF THE WOLF follows. This is the story of Lily DeLaVega and the shaman White Hawk, who drags her back to Ebony Canyon to face the horrific consequences of her crimes, never dreaming she will capture his heart.
Look for a more coming up from my alter-ego, mystery writer KC Flynn, who has somehow sneaked onto the internet with a short story e-book called Old Bones. A romantic suspense, THE MAN IN THE STETSON, is soon to follow.
I’m all over the web these days:
Connie Flynn Website: connieflynn.com
Connie Flynn Blog: connieflynn.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ConnieFlynnAuthor
Twitter: @connieflynn
Bootcamp for Novelists Online: http://bootcampfornovelists.com
I cordially invite you to drop by my Connie Flynn and Bootcamp websites every so often to see what’s up.
eBooks available from Connie Flynn
http://amzn.to/smoZp5
SHADOW ON THE MOON
SHADOW OF THE WOLF
THE FIRE OPAL (coming next)
Old Bones by K.C. Flynn (short story)
And . . . from Harlequin’s Treasury’s reissue program:
FORTY TONS OF TROUBLE
ONLY COUPLES NEED APPLY
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