Moonlight Magic

by Alexander, K. R.

  I swallowed the ginger. “I’m not making the choices anymore. I told you all that in London. We’re making decisions together, staying together.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t know how far you think you’ll get calling a vote around here every time we need to make a decision. Especially in the current mood.”

  “Back to morale… I’m more concerned about that than our other next steps. I wish we could camp again, with the caravan. Even for a couple nights.”

  “Of course we’ll camp. Unless we go right to their door and don’t have to bother.”

  “Camp with reavers out there?”

  “The reavers were in Cumbria. We have seven wolves, two handguns, and your magic with us, darling. Let’s not discount a night camped out in the hills just because we’re afraid of dead fairies.”

  I lay back, thinking.

  Andrew turned on his side, face close to mine. “You’re overcompensating. Don’t lose confidence in yourself now. Yes, this is dangerous. It’s going to stay dangerous. Campouts or no campouts. But if you want a vote on this one, I can tell you how it will go. Six for staying out in the wilderness, two for finding a room. You haven’t got a chance, darling. As long as Traigh will have us around here, and it also works as far as location for a home base, that’s well and good. But, when we move on…?”

  I nodded.

  He kissed my cheek. “A steak dinner, a chance to get out and burn off steam … we’ll be all right. Watch yourself, get to a doctor if you need to, I’ll take you, and for Moon’s sake don’t go around acting like you’re beaten down or guilty about everything. How do you think that makes everyone feel?”

  “I know. I’m sorry…”

  “And don’t apologize so much. You’re silver. Ask for a vote, value our opinions. Fine. But at the end of the day know that we don’t want to do what Kage wants or what Isaac wants. We want to do what you want.”

  “I want … opinions about our next move and to give everyone a chance to decompress. And … I want to talk to Zar. I’m worried about him.”

  “If anyone around here gets a morale boost from seeing that you’re happy…”

  I nodded.

  He put his head on one side, watching my eyes with a faint smile. “They just need you, Cassiopeia. That’s all we really want. To get this rubbish sorted and to be with you. We’re wolves, remember? The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.”

  “I remember.”

  Andrew tucked his nose into my hair.

  “Is anyone else up?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  I turned my face to kiss his lips, rolling the rest of me as well so we faced each other on our sides. “Andrew? How did you meet Marie Antoinette?”

  He chuckled—much to my surprise and even delight. “She used to frequent a restaurant where I waited tables. She’d come in with girlfriends now and then. A regular long before I started front of house there.” He paused, inhaling slowly. “Loved the smell of that place…”

  A sigh and he went on. “Then she’d come in on her own, upping it to once a week—at least. We’d talk. She’d show up first thing sometimes. We were always busy with closing chores, so late was no good. But if she was first in we had some down time. She’d try to buy me a drink at first. Of course I didn’t drink—never mind working at the time—so she’d say, ‘What do you like?’ She’d order an appetizer and ask me to join her, sterk like that. Went on for a few months before they fired me.” He grinned. “Actually, the manager gave me a talking to and I quit. He was a condescending old prick. I was an arrogant young prick. Decided I didn’t need to take that rubbish. What I really wanted was to be with Sarah, but she was seeing a human at that time—no room for a triangle—and I wasn’t in a good place mentally. So it turned out to be a great decision.”

  “Quitting? Why’s that?”

  “Annette was in that night with her regular gang. Not much talking for us. But I told her I was sacked. So she knew it was her fault. She was all, ‘Oh, no, you poor dear. I’ll help you find something better. Give me a call.’ She gave me her card. I knew what she wanted. Never bothered me that she was older once I got to know her.

  “She was a class act. The sort of lady you see in movies. Posh, rich widow in a luxury flat overlooking the sea in Brighton. Cut glass accent, old money family. Moon, she was something else. Is, I should say. She’s still in Brighton. She knew I was hungering after someone—gave me a lot of good advice about Sarah, actually. It was never destined to be a long-term thing for us. But … a few years we were on and off. She got me into good jobs. Better pay, good tips, nice places.

  “Gave me a new motorbike for my birthday. Bloody good bike. Best I could ever dream of. But I wrecked it. Hit by a drunk about eighteen months ago. I was almost killed on that bike. Jason saved my life—got it off me, called the ambulance. I still miss it. But it was thanks to the bike, thanks to the wreck, that things turned around with Sarah. When I was almost killed, well…” Hint of a shrug. “Funny how that sort of thing can make a she-wolf see how much she’s loved someone all along.”

  He was still smiling, and I smiled back. “Nothing like a near-death experience.”

  “I told Annette how things worked out. Used to see her in passing every now and then in Brighton. She wasn’t at all upset about the bike. She was thrilled: said it was a cheap price to pay for Sarah finally seeing the light. That’s how she felt about me—” With a wry smile, rolling his eyes a little. “Like Sarah was the one blessed, not me. Batty old lady.

  “We’re out of touch now. She introduced me to so much, though. More than just passing human, but human culture, human views, human lifestyles—even if hers was an extreme and unfair example. She was how I started watching chat shows, news, soaps, game shows. Even the bleeding ads on telly tell you a lot about a human. How much they like to Hoover, for one. And buy life insurance. Wolves now … we’re too apart. We’re trained by other wolves to pass as human and mostly fit in when we need to. We don’t live it. We don’t really get it. Annette shaped my life as much as my orataj or adopted parents did, really. It was never just about sex. She was a new world.”

  “How old were you when you first met her?”

  “Oh … nineteen, twenty, thereabouts. She was fifty-ish? Not ‘old’ but … mature… I never knew anyone with such strong opinions about absolutely everything. She would shout at the telly on political news the way some blokes shout at a football match. World traveler too. She’d been to Australia. Second only to winning over Sarah, I wanted to go more than anything. She’d have taken me. I thought about it. Really did, but…”

  “Going with a mundane wasn’t the trip you had in mind?”

  “Yeah… I wanted to go to find my people, my past. If it was even possible. Even a hint. I would have to change there, use my nose in fur. The only person I wanted beside me was Sarah and … at that time…”

  “Did Sarah give you that dingo figure?”

  He nodded, dropping his gaze, saying nothing for a moment.

  “You’ll still go someday, Andrew. Just because things have been delayed doesn’t mean you’ll never get there. I wish I could go with you. I’d love to see Australia. Aside from spiders… But … maybe it’s something you need to do on your own. I don’t know…”

  He still hesitated, no longer meeting my eyes. His own unfocused, directed near my chin. “It’s been … off the radar for a long time. One thing and another. Once Sarah and I were finally together, we were planning. I’d saved the money. She wanted to go. We were just starting to sort it out when … exactly one year ago, she told me she was pregnant. Well, that was it. No small news in our society. She couldn’t change anymore. Besides, we’d never flown. I’d have been afraid to put her through the roundtrip and a long stay anyway, not sure what to expect, even if we hadn’t been counting on spending time together in fur there. It didn’t matter. A pup mattered. That was all either of us could think about. I didn’t care anymore if Aust
ralia was ten years away or never. Now, for other reasons, I still don’t.”

  I kissed his forehead and didn’t say anything.

  After a minute, Andrew added, “The thing about grief … while you’re worried about morale? Grief is disarmed by being kept on the run.”

  “I know. We need to stay busy. That’s why we need to jump right into it today—not only because of this whole ticking clock thing. We also need a break. A chance to just … I don’t know.” I let out a breath. “I wish they could … sing.”

  “North Highlands? Really wild areas? Scotland is bigger than you think.”

  “Maybe. It doesn’t look that big.”

  “Says someone who needs a week to drive across her own country. Big enough to walk a wolf off lead.”

  “Okay.” I smiled. “Yes, Scotland is that big. Andrew? You didn’t tell me about your dream yester—”

  Bang. Something crashed into the other side of the wall, making us both jump.

  Chapter 3

  Andrew sprang from bed, looking around at the wall as if to check if anything had come through. I also sat up, heart pounding.

  Someone was talking in the other room.

  Andrew, in nothing but his red shorts, waved at me to stay put, then moved to the door and stepped out into the hall.

  The other bedroom door burst open and Traigh’s chipper voice called, “Morning!” as if Andrew were a block away.

  “All right, mate?” Andrew asked. “Someone throwing things?”

  “Nowt at all—took a wee tumble.” Traigh laughed. “Happen yer skulk would jolly a bite? I’m knocking up omelets.”

  “Uh… Thanks. Do you have coffee?”

  “Oh, aye. The others are right fond of it.”

  I was rubbing my eyes, thinking how certain things just didn’t translate and feeling uncomfortable about omelets all of a sudden, when Andrew leaned back into the room. He only gave me a raised-eyebrow look, said, “Right back,” and was gone.

  I visited the bathroom but returned to bed to wait for him. It was still only 7:00 a.m. and we’d been up late. Maybe Andrew could tell me about his dream before we met with the others.

  Isaac and Gabriel were downstairs—obviously awake now. But Isaac might like a chance to visit with Traigh anyway. Gabriel had slept on the living room futon and Isaac was on guard in fur overnight. The other four were outside in the driveway.

  We’d just managed to squeeze the caravan into it in front of the roommates’ car, then find street parking for the Jeep. We’d brought three motorcycles on this trip that were also squeezed in. So Kage and Jason were curled up in the little camper trailer bed while Jed and Zar slept in fur on the floor.

  I didn’t like splitting up even that much, but this house was tiny—two small bedrooms and a bathroom crammed upstairs, a living room in the front, eat-in kitchen in the back downstairs. That was it. I couldn’t believe four adults usually shared the place, but Traigh had said the roommates were gone half the year because the woman’s company was based out of Berlin. This was just a temporary arrangement for them until they settled in one city or the other.

  I hadn’t asked, but it certainly sounded like they were mundanes. What if they returned suddenly to find strangers in their bed and an Arctic wolf in their living room? Traigh didn’t seem to have any idea—or care—about their schedule. Another reason to spend as little time as possible here and get ourselves out to the Highlands.

  Andrew returned in ten minutes, bringing a plate and mug.

  “Decaf?” I sat up, pillow against the old wood headboard.

  “Didn’t have it. Just weak. And eat something. It’ll settle your stomach.”

  “Not if I throw it up.” I took the mug from him and Andrew sat up beside me in bed with the plate of toasted English muffins—called muffins here, naturally.

  “Do you feel that bad?” He eyed me.

  “Not after the ginger. Just … sometimes it comes on suddenly. I thought it had passed.”

  “It’ll come and go.”

  “I’m going to need to tell everyone.”

  “Probably.” He sighed. “Not right this minute.” I knew he still thought this a terrible idea, but I was leaning the other way. This was going on too long, and too many people already knew. The rest deserved to know.

  He offered the plate. Two halves on the bottom with butter and two on top with raspberry jam. I took a buttered one and Andrew ate one with jam. It was oddly salty, must be salted butter, and very satisfying after the sweet ginger. He was right. I felt okay after a muffin and sipping the coffee.

  While we ate, I asked about Isaac and Gabriel.

  “Up and moving. Isaac changed and Gabriel was on his phone. Not sure how serious you want us to be about the ban, darling, but you might have a battle with that one.”

  Like the rest of us, Gabriel was mostly keeping his phone off, but, like most typical humans, he’d still spent a lot of time on the thing in Ambleside and now here. Surely it didn’t matter. I’d warded him also. Yet…

  “I can mention it again. We need help from phones, though. Just looking up where we’re going, being able to reach each other if we’re even slightly split up. We can’t totally avoid them.”

  I drank. Andrew cleared the plate in a few gulps after trying to get me to take another half. Then I set the mug aside, trading for my notebook and purple pen.

  “Okay. Tell me about your dream. Wish I’d had one worth noting last night. I’m may have to scry for the faie but it makes me uncomfortable. Too many scrying equals trouble connections. What?”

  Andrew was frowning. “Speaking of my dream, why did you flinch last night?”

  “Nothing personal—”

  “But you are sore. Look at you.”

  I glanced down.

  “You look like you’re waiting for an attack.”

  Maybe I was a bit hunched up. It wasn’t my bruised arm either.

  “I thought we’d have a moment there in the firelight,” he continued. “But you were all miserable and worrying about how everyone else was miserable. You need a shrink and a chiropractor instead of an OB-GYN.”

  “Thank you, Andrew. If you’re trying to work up to ‘a moment’ right now you’re missing the—”

  “Massage? Come on, darling. It’s what you need before mustering the troops.”

  “It might be a while before any troops are mustered.”

  “Isla!” A sudden shout from downstairs. “Breakfast!”

  “That’s her name.” I made a note of it. “Is she a shifter? Any idea? He’s not living all with humans, is he?”

  “Oh, she’s definitely a fox.”

  “You could smell?”

  “No. It’s the way she moves. No worm.” Andrew’s tone was a bit hostile.

  I hadn’t noticed anything special about how Isla moved the night before, aside from quick and hyper, like Traigh himself—both bursting with energy, chatty and fast to laugh, no matter the late night and early morning. I wondered if Andrew was thinking of his unpleasant experience with Traigh’s twin sisters when we’d met them in London. Leum and Dannsa got the better of Andrew and he probably wouldn’t forget.

  I was about to redirect the conversation to the dream again but Andrew went on, “Not that the place doesn’t smell plenty. Did you notice the cat toys? They must spend time in fur at home when they’re alone.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” I said, irritated. “I wish I could see them in fur. I sure they’re adorable.” Not that they weren’t adorable in skin. Traigh, scarcely taller than me, was wiry, tousled, with an artist-hipster-student Scottish vibe that I’d have enjoyed if not completely knackered—as they would say—the entire time I’d known him.

  Andrew gave me a stern look.

  “What? You don’t think they are? Don’t be like that. If they really do have cat toys around to play with…? You’ve got to admit that sounds pretty cute.”

  “Is that why you throw that old wool chunk for Jed? The cuteness of it all?”
<
br />   “Why are you acting like Kage?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Just pushing your buttons, darling. I suppose I missed you all while locked underground for about a year.”

  “Yeah…” I set the notebook aside and took another drink of the rather unappealing instant coffee. “I missed you too. We’re getting back on track, though.”

  “Turn.” He drew up his knees, turning to rest on his hip to face me.

  “I don’t want a massage. I was thinking maybe a shower. Good time to get in there.”

  “Shower after. Turn.”

  I shifted my back to him, sitting with my knees over the side of the bed. “Just a little. Don’t—Andrew!” I jerked away. “That hurts.”

  “That’s my point, darling. It shouldn’t hurt.” He tugged me back, hands on my shoulders, while I braced myself for the next dig at my neck.

  Five minutes in and the kneading was still agony: vicious and stabbing. My breathing remained ragged and I longed to walk away, get my shower, but he was probably right. It shouldn’t feel this bad.

  “Count to five while you inhale through your nose,” Andrew said. “Out through your mouth. Work up to a count of ten.” He pulled my shoulders back again as I kept inching away.

  I tried to breathe.

  “You’ll do yourself an injury,” Andrew said. “And what about our little miracle?”

  “You’re certainly doing me one.”

  “Inhale again. Relax and I’ll tell you about my dream.”

  I reached for my notebook. “Did Annette teach you massage?”

  Andrew’s only reply was a small laugh as he pulled my hands back, sans notebook.

  I sat still, trying for deep breaths, while he worked down my neck and shoulders. He lifted my tank top and I tugged it off over my head so he could easily move along my back. There was nothing romantic about the sensation. Only agonizing. Even when the sharpest pain subsided I was left with aches and tension that wouldn’t quit.