Make Me Howl

by Susan Shay

  He finished without so much as a whisper and my howl of joy wilted to a groan of disappointment.

  What happened? Was it something about me that gave him such an inadequate climax? Could I live with that kind of finish again?

  He rolled away from me and stared at the barn roof for a long moment. “Guess we’d better get a move on before your folks get worried.”

  They couldn’t worry half as much as me. My heart in turmoil, I forced a smile, rearranged my clothes and headed for the stairs without so much as a kiss. And I’m afraid he was as disenchanted as me.

  Maybe we weren’t truly right together. I could have been wrong when I thought nature had picked him as my mate, couldn’t I? Would I be cursed for life with a mate who was perfect in every other area but who lost it in what I thought of as the most crucial area?

  We walked back through the waning snowstorm to the house. Spencer met us at the back door. “Got caught in that squall, didn’t you?”

  Doc smiled, but I could still see the sadness in his gaze. “Yeah. We stopped at the barn until it slowed.”

  I have to give Spencer credit, he didn’t even grin at Doc’s words as most men would. Didn’t poke him with an elbow or make a smart remark. In fact, he seemed almost sympathetic, which made absolutely no sense. “Well, according to the weather map, we’re going to have a respite. Another front is coming through in a few hours.”

  That’s when I noticed the lights were back on.

  “We’d better hit the road then.” Doc turned to me. “I told your parents when I met them earlier that we’d be leaving as soon as possible. They must be used to your surprises, because they were okay with it. Want me to get your suitcase for you?”

  No way I wanted him in my bedroom again. Not until I could figure a way to snatch that smothering blanket away from him. “No, thanks. I can manage.”

  I rushed through the house and up the stairs. While I checked to be sure I had everything, a tap sounded on the door. Bella pushed it open and peeked inside, her hands full. “You wanted to take some of the lavender home. Remember?”

  Trust Bella to remember, even with everything else going on. I gave her a quick hug. “I’d forgotten. Put it in my bag, would you?”

  “No.” She was aghast at my idea. “It’d be dust by the time you got it unpacked. I’ll find a box for it.”

  When she’d found the box then tucked used Christmas tissue over the herb, she closed it securely.

  I double checked I had everything, especially Granny’s journals and closed my bag. Together we went down, me carrying my bags, Bella the box.

  Apparently, Doc had explained things to my parents, because Mom, Dad, Bella and Spencer waved happily to us from the front porch as we got in the giant black Hummer and started up the road. “No wonder you didn’t have problems getting here. Doesn’t the army use these for fighting wars in Antarctica?”

  He pulled his gaze from the road just long enough to glance at me. “I think so. Wasn’t that last fight called The Battle of the Ice Chip?”

  If I hadn’t been so upset, I’d have made a joke about the ice maiden that started it all, but I wasn’t happy enough to do that. In fact, I felt mourning coming on. “I guess you’d better tell me what this is all about.”

  “It’s Tony.” He hesitated as if trying to figure how to tell me. “I grew a culture of his blood, and when I used the normal antigen to cure it, the culture didn’t die. It thrived.”

  I hadn’t expected the anger that took root within me. “So since your antigen won’t kill the infection, you want me to help you kill Tony?”

  “No!” Shocked, he drew his eyebrows together. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could see it in his face. “I need you to help me take another sample of his blood.”

  “You came all the way to Winnie Rose to get me to help you draw his blood when you did it by yourself the last time?” Disgusted, I shook my head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “The blood I used to make the antigen the last time was apparently from the wrong line. It could have been too rare. And I want to use yours to make a new one.”

  “Mine?” I all but shrieked. “You want to use my blood to stop a werewolf. What’s next? Do you want to use it to wipe out the gene, too?”

  He shrugged, apparently unaware of the fury he’d sparked in me.

  I tried to mute my anger. “Tell me something.”

  He nodded as casually as if a werewolf capable of tearing him to bits weren’t riding by his side.

  I lowered my voice so he had to strain to hear me. “Why do you hate werewolves so?”

  “I don’t hate werewolv—”

  “Don’t hate them? Then why do you want to eradicate them from the face of the earth?”

  “I don’t want to eradicate the people from the face of the earth. Just the infection that causes them to be werewolves.”

  “But I don’t have an infection.” I turned completely toward him. The desire to make him understand ached deep within me. “I was born with the gene. Being a werewolf isn’t just something that happened to me. Doc, it’s who I am.

  “I love being a werewolf. Love having the strength at my fingertips to do anything I need to. Love being able to evolve and then change back. The freedom. The clarity. The pure joy. Why do you want to get rid of that?”

  “You like being a werewolf?” If he’d changed “werewolf” to “scum of the earth,” his tone and expression would have remained the same.

  “Yes!” I put all my deeply held feelings into that word then dropped my voice to a rough whisper. “I love it!”

  “You love losing control? Not remembering where and who you are while you’re gone?” His tone grew terse as he spoke. “And the new werewolves…”

  “Neophytes,” I supplied the word for him.

  “Yes, neophytes. They come from somewhere. It has to be a Syzygian werewolf that starts that little problem.”

  “But very few Syzygian werewolves do that kind of thing. Why punish all of us?”

  “If we cure all werewolves, we’ll be sure we get the bad ones.”

  I tried not to think of persecuted peoples through the centuries, but the more I tried, the more the horrors of genocide came to mind. Auschwitz. Dachau. American Indians being given smallpox tainted blankets. Having their food supply systematically eliminated. Sand Creek and Wounded Knee, where innocent men, women and children were murdered.

  While he wasn’t going to commit murder, he wanted to wipe out the future of my species. Could I stand by and be a party to it?

  I tried to force my mind from the turmoil. “How is Tony physically?”

  “He’s pretty much out of it with all the meds they’re giving him.” The car started to slide as Doc took a curve too quickly, but he almost immediately controlled it. “Which is good, since he’d be worried sick about his son otherwise.”

  “Why?” I knew he hadn’t been home since the attack, and I doubted the hospital would let a small child in to see him, so the kid couldn’t have been bitten.

  “Because Tony’s a single father. His ex-wife is on her way from New Zealand to get the boy.”

  “Tony had custody?” I stared at him, having trouble believing what I heard. “How’d he do that?”

  “Lucked onto a judge who didn’t want American kids raised outside the country.” Doc slowed as he met a car taking his half out of the middle of the snow packed roads.

  My heart sank a little deeper as I turned back to face the gray world. “Not much is fair in life. Is it?”

  For a very long moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, in a voice I could barely hear, he said, “No.”

  When at long last we drove out of the storm, we made great time back to Dallas. We drove straight to the hospital. As promised, I went with him to Tony’s room to serve as a lookout as he drew blood.

  It was obvious the full moon was getting close by Tony’s restlessness. Even in his “coma,” he’d been restrained by the staff so he wouldn’t
hurt himself thrashing. But that didn’t stop him from murmuring and tugging against the ties every few moments.

  There were a couple of machines in the room. One that bleeped out his heartbeat, and one dripping something into his veins.

  After watching a while, we saw Tony was still for a few minutes between his spurts of activity. So the next time he lunged against his restraints, Doc was ready. I stepped to the door and leaned against it, as if I were giving the pair space. In reality, I was there so I’d feel the first movement if someone tried to come in. And I would stop them.

  As I watched, Doc inserted the needle. The machine marking his heart rate bleeped a little faster, but otherwise nothing changed. Doc filled a large vial with blood. As he removed the needle, Tony opened his eyes, turned his head and looked directly at me. As our gazes met, my stomach bottomed out.

  In his face was the question, How could you betray me?

  Talk about feeling like a rat. How could I have betrayed him? But if I’d left him to attack the innocents of Texas, wouldn’t I be worse? He was a phyter. Without years of training, he’d never have the self-control to contain himself.

  He’d be killed like a rabid dog in the streets.

  It was damned if you do, and a sharp smack if you don’t.

  Doc held something over the tiny wound he’d made to stop the bleeding. One good thing about being a werewolf, even a neophyte. We heal quickly.

  The door bumped my back as someone tried to open it. I thumped around as if I were trying to get out of the way, while Doc quickly put away his supplies. When I heard his, “Yeah,” I let her in.

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d leaned against the door,” I lied.

  The woman was young and well dressed, her shoulder-length hair pulled back in a low ponytail. “Hey, I understand completely. I’m Catherine. Tony’s ex-wife.” She held out her hand to shake mine.

  “I’m Jazzy. I’m with, uh, Chase Holliday.” I tipped my head toward Doc by way of introduction. “One of your husband’s coworkers.”

  “Ex-husband,” she clarified, then caught her breath as she turned toward the bed, her brows drawn together, her gaze clouded. Very slowly she moved across the room to stand near Doc.

  “I’m Chase.” Doc kept his voice low as he held out his hand to the woman.

  “Catherine Baldred,” she answered as she kept her gaze on Tony.

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “How is he?” Catherine asked. “Have you talked to the doctors?”

  “It’s been kind of touch and go.” Doc glanced my way for a mere moment. “I think he’s going to be okay now, though.”

  “I hope so.” She tilted her head to one side, and while I couldn’t see her face, I could imagine the emotions registering there. If Tony was okay, she’d have to leave her son and go back to her current husband, halfway around the world. But if Tony died, while her son would be with her all the time, the boy would be fatherless.

  She took one of Tony’s tethered hands in both of hers.

  “We’ll leave you alone with him,” Doc said as he backed toward the door.

  Catherine turned toward us, her face tear stained. “You don’t have to go on my account.”

  I shook my head as I opened the door. “We’ve been here too long already. See you later.”

  She’d turned back to Tony before I’d finished talking, and I really wasn’t sure she heard what I said.

  I went with Doc to the zoo clinic. While he went into the lab to do something with the blood he’d taken from Tony, I went out to check on the wolf pups. I picked up the little female I’d fed and snuggled her close. She was growing so rapidly, you could barely tell she’d been a slow starter.

  Doc came out and I put the pup back. “Ready for me to take some of your blood?”

  I shrugged and followed him back to the lab, where I climbed onto one of his uncomfortable stools. He did a little rummaging then turned toward me with a huge needle in one hand and an alcohol swab in the other.

  “Nice needle.” I stared at it before extending my arm. “Couldn’t you find one the size of a soda straw?”

  He chuckled as he took my wrist with one hand and cleaned the site where he planned to stick me with the other. “Quick your snarking. It’ll be over in a minute.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from growling for real as he stuck the needle into my vein. To be honest, once that initial pain passed it was fascinating to watch my blood fill the vial.

  Dark, rich and red, it looked just like Tony’s had. And, I knew for a fact, the same as Bella’s and every other human’s in the world. Lycan or not, black or white, Jew or Indian, you couldn’t tell whose it was by looking at the blood.

  Mine just carried a gene that most didn’t.

  He took the needle out and held sterile cotton over the site a moment. The hole had already started healing. By the time we were ready to leave the clinic, I knew it would be completely gone. Not even a tiny scab to show for it.

  Apparently Doc didn’t notice, because he didn’t seem surprised. Or maybe he knew more about werewolves than I realized.

  “Do you mind going by my house before I take you home?” he asked.

  “Not at all.” I couldn’t figure why he’d want to go to his house, but I didn’t mind. We drove most of the way in silence.

  When we finally got there, he pulled into his driveway but not the garage. This time, we went in the front door. The house wasn’t decorated for Christmas, which didn’t surprise me, but there was a gift with a huge red bow lying on his pool table. I followed him to the table. His gaze held mine as he handed it to me. “Merry Christmas.”

  My heart lost some of its buoyancy. The box was long and flat—definitely not a coin necklace, but I forced myself to smile anyway. Carrying the box with me, I walked over and sat on one of his recliners.

  Doc knelt beside the chair—I guess so he could see the look on my face as I opened it.

  Very slowly I slid the ribbon off the package at one end then pulled the tape loose. Turning the box, I released the tape on the other end, then on the back.

  “I didn’t know anyone could take so long opening a present. Especially at Christmas.”

  “It’s always been a contest between Bella and me. Who could go the slowest? Bella usually wins.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.” He shook his head as he gave me a sexy half smile. “But it does surprise me that you don’t just blow that contest off and tear through it.”

  “Oh, I can do that, too.”

  I ripped the lid off the box and tore out the tissue paper. There inside, in a very expensive frame, was an antique poster from the 1935 version of the movie, Call of the Wild. And it had been autographed by both Clark Gable and Loretta Young.

  Then it hit me. Call of the Wild. I started laughing, delighted that he’d found such a gift for me. “Where in the world did you find this?”

  “Family heirloom.” He got off his knees and sat in the adjacent recliner. “My granddad was the veterinarian on that movie. He made sure that there were ‘no animals harmed in the making of this film.’“

  “Don’t you think you should keep it in the family?” I asked, shocked that he would give away such a treasure.

  His smile grew slowly, his gaze kindling. “We have other heirlooms from his stint in with Hollywood. I just thought you’d enjoy that one.”

  I leaned the poster against the chair, careful to keep it from falling. “It’s me, all right.”

  With a move I didn’t see coming, he reached out, grabbed my hand and yanked me into his lap. His kiss made my head reel as I settled my body against his. I could have spent years getting used to that seat, and loved every minute of it.

  He ended the kiss—I could have kept it going all night—and whispered in my ear, “You know, tomorrow night is the waxing moon.”

  Talk about a crash to reality. I hid my face in his shoulder for a moment, wishing I could hide as easily from what I would face the next nigh
t.

  I would have to find the neophyte or let him find me. And I would have to stop him. I only hoped I was up to the task.

  Doc went on. “We’ll have to post patrols to lookout for this guy, whoever he is.”

  I straightened, slid off his lap and moved to the other chair. “No.”

  He looked startled, but I’m not sure if that was from my answer or me leaving his lap. “What do you mean? He’s dangerous, and he has to be stopped.”

  “I know he’s dangerous, but I’m the one who’s going to stop him. With patrols, you’d just have more people getting hurt. And possibly infected.”

  His face hardened. “You think you can—”

  “I know I can.” Not that I did, really, but he couldn’t know that. And he couldn’t know that I’d tried to stop this phyter before and failed. I had to make him believe I could take care of it.

  “All right.” He got out of his chair and walked to the door, where he waited while I grabbed my poster and followed.

  All the way back to my apartment, he didn’t say a word. After trying to start a conversation a few times, I gave up, too.

  The drive took longer than normal, or at least it seemed so to me. When we got there, he carried my bags to my door, but refused my invitation to come inside.

  When he left, and I was alone, and filled with a sense of loss greater than I’d ever experienced in my life.

  I locked the door and went to the bathroom for a long, hot soak. When I finished, I wrapped up in my oldest, most comfortable robe and crashed on the couch, my heart in too much chaos to sleep.

  I pulled out Grandma’s journal, and read until my eyes were grainy. Just as I was ready to put it away and get some sleep, I read about a love Grandma had before Grandpa. A love with another werewolf. The inner-connection she wrote about had been so deep, so pure it was painful to read even after so many years. For several weeks, the young woman, Grandma, had spilled her love for Charlton onto the page. Her absolute surety that he was her life mate was there in the faded ink.