by Ann Gimpel
“This hurts,” she wailed.
“The first time always hurts the most,” the wolf informed her. “But it’s worse because you’re fighting me. I control your first shift, but once it’s done, you’ll control all the others.”
“I can’t give in. I don’t want this.” She curled into a ball, surprised her body still looked the same even though it felt foreign, alien, like something that belonged to someone else.
“You have no choice,” the wolf repeated. “If you don’t shift, you’ll die. It’s the way things work for our kind.”
Death might be welcome—if it meant the pain stopped. Her head pounded mercilessly. Even her teeth and eyes ached.
“Death is not welcome.” The wolf bit off each word. “If you die, you’ll drag me down with you. I did not bond with you to have you kill us. What happened to the girl who romped with me? She’d embrace this change.”
“She doesn’t exist anymore,” Tairin said dully. “She grew up.”
The ripping, tearing sensation intensified. When she dragged her eyes open, her perspective had shifted, as if she viewed the world through poorly blown glass. Her torso was growing shorter, and fur sprouted on her limbs. Where she’d had nails, claws formed.
She wanted to shriek, to howl, but if she did someone would hear and come running. The last thing she needed was a witness to her humiliation. Her mother’s punishments paled in comparison to what the Rom elders would do to her. They’d banish her not only from this caravan, but also from every caravan. Word traveled fast in gypsy circles. Before a fortnight had passed, she’d be relegated to the shadowy world of beggars and street urchins.
Agony shot through her, turning every nerve into a red-hot coal of misery. Somewhere in the midst of it, she ended up standing on all four legs with a tail swishing behind her. As quickly as it had risen, the pain ceased. Scents bombarded her, and she licked her nose. The world came alive through her snout and ears. When she angled her head, she was certain she heard insects burrowing in the sand. The chittering of small rodents made saliva gather and flow from her lolling jaws.
“There. It is done. You survived, and so did I.” Her wolf sounded relieved—and pleased.
Tairin fell back on her haunches, the unfamiliar form clumsy and awkward to control. “How can I change back? No one can find out about this. No one.”
“Ssht. Take a few deep breaths. Enjoy your dual nature. There are so many advantages—”
“I don’t care about them. I don’t want to enjoy this. How can I change back? So far we got lucky, but that can’t last.”
“I want to run.”
Pressure built in her body, but Tairin resisted it. “And I want to change back. I can’t be stuck this way. My father had a human form.”
“If we run and you get used to me, it won’t hurt so much next time.” The wolf’s voice was softly seductive, hard to ignore. Even harder to refuse.
“You’re using magic on me.”
“Of course. You can do the same. Your power will become ever so much stronger because of me. It’s one of those advantages I alluded to. The ones you didn’t want to hear about.”
Tairin felt herself relaxing, considering potential benefits hidden within her new abilities. She put the brakes on hard. “You have to tell me how to change back.”
“Don’t you want to hunt first? I hear fat mice. They’d be easy to catch.”
“No. I want to know how to be human again. Tell me now or…or I’ll banish you. Even if it kills us both.” She sucked in a tense breath. She didn’t really want to resort to breaking the bond with the wolf. In a very small corner of herself, she was enjoying the experience of having another form. That appreciation could grow given time, but not if she felt trapped.
“Ah. I see how it is. I live in your mind, so I’m privy to all your thoughts. If you need the keys to shifting back in order to be comfortable with your new ability, all you need do is visualize your human form. It’s the same way you find my form. Summon the particular magic you felt earlier and visualize either human or wolf. If you let the power flow freely, it will happen as easily as breathing.”
“Will it hurt?” Tairin grimaced—although her wolf’s features must have skewed it beyond recognition—and rebuked herself for cowardice. So what if it hurt? She’d have welcomed the tortures of the damned to be human again.
“Not as much or for as long. Go ahead,” the wolf invited. “Try it. Next time you shift, we can pick a more private place so we can run and hunt and feel the wind in our fur.”
Tairin focused power and held a picture in her mind of what she looked like as a human. The same grating, tearing sensation pulsed through her, but this time, she didn’t fight it. Her backbone lengthened and her limbs spread from their position beneath her. Her vision took on its usual aspect. Just as she was inspecting the scraps that had been her clothing, but had ripped during her shift, a muted scream, followed by the unmistakable sound of a slap, drove her to her feet.
Calista hunkered a few feet away, her eyes so wide the whites showed all around. A reddened spot on her cheekbone told its own tale. The man next to her was turned so Tairin couldn’t see his face, but she knew his scent: sweat and stale liquor. It was even more distinctive to her newly enhanced senses. Nehi, with his ten children and browbeaten wife, was a chronic philanderer. His wife was close to term with their next child, which explained the dalliance with Calista, but didn’t excuse it.
“I know it’s you,” Tairin growled. “You needn’t hide your face. You should be ashamed—”
Nehi spun so fast, dark, greasy hair fell across his face. “Ashamed? Of what? You’re the abomination. The unclean one. Wait until I let the elders know. You’ll be out of this caravan so fast, it’ll make your head spin, sister. And that mother of yours is nothing better than a whore.”
“How’d you sneak up on me?” Tairin demanded, rattled by his presence.
“I’m Rom, or did you forget? I have magic that allows me to mask my presence same as the rest of us.” An unpleasant light kindled deep in his dark eyes and he moved toward her, his body lithe and corded with muscle. He held out his hands. “Maybe you and I can come to an…understanding. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you’ll pleasure me. Haven’t had a virgin in a long time.”
He leered unpleasantly.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t tell?” Calista said sullenly. “I thought you wanted me, but now you want her.”
Nehi snaked out a hand and slapped Calista again.
She yelped and clutched her face.
“You’ll hold silence if I tell you to, bitch,” Nehi snapped. “I was with you last night and today, and I’ll say you’re raving, that you must’ve helped yourself to the liquor again.”
“You’ll reveal yourself as an adulterer,” Tairin countered. Calista might be afraid of him, but she wasn’t.
“So what? Men understand these things.” Nehi sidled closer. “What about it, sister?”
Tairin didn’t need an assist from her wolf nattering from the sidelines. She bared her teeth and snarled. “No. I’d rather be dead than accept your offer.”
Fury contorted his face into an ugly mass of wrinkles. He drew back a fist, but Tairin snarled again. “You’ll be sorry. I’ll summon my wolf, and—”
Nehi shoved Calista toward the Nile. “Back to the caravan. Now.” He splashed into the water after her.
Tairin stared after them. She couldn’t believe she’d threatened to send for her wolf.
But I did.
The sense of power rocketing through her was hot, bright, and welcome.
“See?” The wolf sounded insufferably smug. “We’ll be fine. We don’t need your Romani kin.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume that,” Tairin shot back. “We may have won a battle, but this is just the beginning of a long war.”
She glanced at the remains of her clothes one last time. No way around it, she’d have to walk back to the wagon naked. If she hadn’t entered womanhood, no
one would’ve looked twice. As things stood, she might be branded a harlot.
None of that mattered. By the time she returned, Nehi would’ve spewed his poison, and Calista—eager to remain in his good graces—would validate every word. A long, rustling sigh escaped. If she were very lucky, the elders would allow her to cover herself before they kicked her out of the only life she’d ever known.
“We could run,” the wolf piped up. “No pressing reason for you to go back now. Or ever.”
“We’ll run later,” she told it. “I need to face up to whatever’s waiting for me.”
“You’re an us now. Not a me.”
Tairin ignored the wolf and picked her way across the Nile. The confrontation with her people wouldn’t get any easier if she put it off.
Chapter 5
Her mother’s screams trumped the rush of the Nile long before Tairin crossed the water’s wide expanse. She wanted to run, find out what was happening, but prudence won out. Tairin summoned magic to shroud herself. The invisibility spell jumped to her bidding far faster than she expected. It made traversing the expanse between river and wagon easy.
No one stopped her because no one saw or sensed her.
She let herself into the wagon and dressed hurriedly, grateful her grandparents weren’t there. Likely, they were wherever Aneksi was pleading for whoever was hurting her to stop. Figuring this might be her last chance, Tairin stuffed what she could of her belongings into a cloth sack and swung it over her body so the strap crossed her chest and one shoulder.
All the while Aneksi’s shrieks continued, sometimes louder, sometimes mere whimpers. What the hell were the elders doing to her? Or was it more than the elders? Tairin could make herself invisible, but not her cloth bag. When she stepped from the wagon, she loosed her spell. No reason to squander magic for nothing.
She made her way toward her mother’s voice, stopping at the outskirts of a circle. No wonder she hadn’t passed anyone on her way. Everyone was here, chanting in Coptic, goading, urging the elders to spill Aneksi’s blood.
Nooooo.
They couldn’t kill her mother. Aneksi hadn’t done anything wrong, except falling in love.
“She did.” The wolf was back. “She slept with a shifter. It’s forbidden. If Jamal’s people knew, they’d penalize him as well.”
“They’d kill him?” Tairin asked, aghast.
“They probably wouldn’t go that far, but they might cast him out. Wolves are pack animals. Your mother never appreciated how much Jamal’s offer to take them far away from everyone cost him. It wouldn’t be unlike death for him to lose his pack.”
Tairin started to push her way through the wall of bodies to the center of the circle, but stopped before she’d actually touched anyone. Drawing attention to herself was a bad idea.
A very bad idea. So far, no one had noticed her.
What should I do?
She hadn’t asked it, but the wolf answered anyway. “We should leave. This is not something you want stamped into your memories.”
“Tairin. Are you close enough to hear me?” Aneksi’s mind voice was thick with strain.
“Yes, Mother. Is there anything I can do?”
“Not for me. They’re preparing a bier to burn me alive. Find Jamal. His people live in the hills above Cairo. They may help you, but don’t be surprised if they don’t. I’m sorry, daughter. So terribly sorry.”
Tairin choked back a wail. Tears spilled, but at least they didn’t make any noise. “I want to kiss you goodbye.”
“No. You must leave. The elders won’t kill you, but they will banish you. Leave before they mark your forehead so all will know you’re an outcast. I love you, Tairin. Now go.”
“It’s good advice,” the wolf said. “We should follow it.”
The crowd was so high on bloodlust, no one had looked her way. She slipped back a few yards, and then a few more until a wagon masked her from the circle of cheering, shouting gypsies eager for her mother’s blood.
“I love you too, Mother. I’m leaving. Use your magic to withdraw to where they can’t hurt you.”
Aneksi didn’t answer.
Tairin returned to the wagon one last time for her shoes. She’d forgotten them when she was getting dressed, and she’d need them if she were going to walk far. She thought about taking one of the horses, but if she stole what the caravan considered its property, she’d meet her mother’s fate. Gypsies might be thieves at heart, but they stole from the gadjo, not each other.
She stopped at the door and turned to look at everything in the familiar wagon one last time. She’d been born here, had never known any other home. She wanted to bring everything in the wagon with her. Wanted to never have to leave, but it was a little late for that.
“A head start isn’t a bad thing,” the wolf commented.
Its words had a steadying effect. She pushed her grief deep. She’d have plenty of time to mourn once she left. A quick scan with her power told her the yard outside the wagon was still empty. She opened the door and put one foot ahead of the other. Walking away from everything she’d ever known was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Smoke wafted through the hot, still air. Smoke thick with the scent of cooking flesh.
Not meat. It’s Mother’s body, burning. I can never forget that. Not ever. The Romani aren’t my friends. They murdered my mother.
“They’re just enforcing their rules. This one hurt you, but it doesn’t make a society that lives within its laws bad,” the wolf commented. For once, its voice was empty of inflection.
“Say more.”
Tairin broke into an easy lope as she left the circle of wagons and her mother’s immolation behind. She headed north for Cairo. It had taken the wagons two days to reach their current location, which meant it might take her double that on foot.
“Laws protect. Long ago, Romani and shifters decreed mating was dangerous—”
“Do you know why?” she broke in.
“No. But it was one area of agreement among two peoples who agree on little else.” The wolf hesitated. “Jamal and your mother were foolhardy. They thought they could rise above the odds, but that never ends well, and your mother paid the price for their hubris.”
“I’m paying a price too.” Tairin pointed out. She stopped shy of saying if the wolf hadn’t been so pushy about her shifting, her mother would still be alive.
“Yes, you are. I told you on the island that I can hear your thoughts. You had no choice. If you didn’t shift when you did, you’d have died. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice us, no matter what the consequences were.”
Tairin reached the main road and turned north. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to travel on the main thoroughfare, but the journey to Cairo would take forever if she left the well-beaten track for either the delta to her right or the trail-less desert to her left. Bitterness warred with sorrow. The wolf had spelled things out. They’d traded their existence for her mother’s. If Tairin had died rather than shifting, Aneksi would still be alive.
“Some choices have no good outcomes,” the wolf observed, its voice gentle.
“Did you know the elders would kill Mother?”
“Not for certain. No.”
“But did you suspect it might happen?” she persisted.
“Yes. I will never lie to you. Bondmates don’t do such things.”
“I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
“That you do, but you need time to move past mourning your losses.”
Something sat beneath the wolf’s words. “You don’t think Father’s people will take us, either, do you?”
The wolf was silent so long, she gave up on it answering. Finally, it said, “It would surprise me if they did. It’s not the shifter way to accept mixed blood kinfolk.”
“What will happen to us?” The words burst from her. Sorrow, anger, and confusion vied with wanting to lie down and give up. Why even try? She was only thirteen. Never mind she was a woman in the eyes of the world. She felt too you
ng to be cast adrift on her own.
“You have ample reason, but feeling sorry for yourself won’t help you.”
“Shut up. Just shut up.” Pain sluiced through her. Her heart ached, and smoke from her mother’s funeral pyre still burned her nostrils. Maybe that last was only her imagination, but her thoughts spiraled downward into a bottomless pit.
She kept walking because she didn’t have anything better to do. At least Cairo was a city. If the shifters refused her, she’d figure something out.
“A caravan is coming,” the wolf noted. “We need to get off the road.”
Tairin sprinted east toward the Nile. She could hide herself within the lush vegetation growing by the water, so long as the caravan didn’t pick this exact spot to rest their horses and goats.
“What do you think will happen if another caravan sees us?” she asked.
“Today, nothing. Word will travel, though. Your caravan will discover that you’re missing very soon. Word will go out, and they’ll make a token effort to find you. Better if no one sees you who can report back and document your location.”
“They may as well have branded me.” Bitterness filled her.
“You’re not thinking. By next year, you’ll be yesterday’s chatter. No one will be thinking about Tairin Jabari. You can call yourself by a different name and make a life for us somewhere.”
Tairin had her doubts, but she kept them to herself. The wolf didn’t know the elders from her caravan like she did. Two men, brothers, they were old and vindictive as hell. They’d take it as a personal affront that she hadn’t stuck around for them to brand her as tainted. Hunting her would be at the top of their priorities—until they died.
She focused magic to listen. The clip-clop of hooves was fading behind them, and she trotted back toward the road. Sun beat down, hot and without mercy. She’d be well served to wait out the heat of the day near the river. Another hour of walking, and she’d take a break.
“We can shift and hunt.”
The wolf sounded so hopeful, she didn’t have it in her to tell it the last thing she wanted was to do either one of those things.