Sheer Bliss

by Leigh Ellwood

  What is it like, Caleb? Maya? Once in a while, if she got up early enough, she’d spot a panther or wolf racing across her line of vision. Many of them worked out the kinks of living as a shifter in an urban area here, and Calla would watch with a twinge of envy. Sure, being a shifter might not grant her superpowers beyond enhanced senses, and it wouldn’t make her a better or more successful salon owner. Still, to be different, special…

  She closed her eyes. The wineglass slipped from her hand and fell with a dull thud to the grass. A tingling sensation in her belly radiated sparks that shot through her limbs. She smiled, picturing handsome Caleb dressed to the nines in a sharp, dark suit, checking his watch and all points of entrance for her.

  Her right hand came to rest on her left breast and squeezed gently, rolling the nipple between her fingers. Yes, she’d be late for the ball. Soon as she took care of one last thing…

  Arousal quickly morphed into concern. She couldn’t move her legs.

  She couldn’t move any part of her body. The tingling rapidly took over, leaving her frozen and numb and very sensitive to the breeze. The sensation overcoming her now, she likened to an all-encompassing toothache, the kind that sliced through your brain the second cold air hit an exposed nerve. Calla wanted to cry out but her throat had dried, then closed, forcing her to breathe heavily through her nose.

  That’s when the change started.

  * * * *

  “Caleb. Good to see you again.”

  “Likewise.” Caleb took Dr. Wes Dillon’s hand in a firm shake. A fellow panther and friend since high school, Wes looked very handsome in his charcoal suit and with his blond hair slicked back. The expression on the man’s face no doubt mirrored Caleb’s, and Caleb imagined they shared similar thoughts about the ball. Why, for instance, could the planning committee not acknowledge that August was too damn hot for a formal event?

  Looking around at the others, Caleb noticed varying ranges of discomfort. “I’m giving serious thought to taking over for next year,” he told Wes. “Beach casual attire, Jimmy Buffett cover band, and more selections at the open bar.”

  “I hear you.” Wes laughed. “How about we get a beer to cool down?”

  “Lead the way.” The two panthers cut across the crowded hotel ballroom, past many Bliss residents Caleb knew by name or sight, and took their place in line. “Hey, Wes,” he said, leaning closer to be heard over the swing band, “I heard Aunt Sheila paid you a visit.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, buddy. Your aunt’s going to live a long, long time.”

  “Cute. She seemed more concerned about Calla Savitch’s good health.”

  Wes colored beet red, obvious even in the dim of the ballroom. For a moment a wave of guilt ebbed in Caleb for having put his friend on the spot, but he wanted to know for certain that Wes offered up a correct evaluation of Calla. Of course, he couldn’t imagine why Aunt Sheila would make up something like a recessive shifting gene…unless that was her way of giving Caleb permission to pursue a relationship on his terms.

  “Caleb,” Wes replied with a nervous chuckle, “you know I can’t breach doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “You’ve done it before, apparently.”

  “Shit.” Wes looked away, rocking on his heels. Then, glancing around to ensure privacy, he leaned close with a hissing whisper. “Your aunt can be very persuasive, you know. She just wouldn’t let it go.”

  “I’m convinced she’s part viper, too, but don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I only wanted to confirm what you told her is true.”

  “Yeah.” Wes nodded. “It’s not like it’s uncommon, though. For all the griping the elders do about mixing, it happens. With Calla, she probably had a great-great something who was a shifter and mated with a human.”

  “It happens, like you said.” Now at the front of the line, they ordered their drinks. “Does having a recessive gene for shifting mean your children can shift, though?”

  Wes shook his head. “No, and I told Sheila that. It’s like being recessive for left-handedness or blue eyes. Calla has blue eyes and is right-handed, so if she married a brown-eyed southpaw, there’s no guarantee of a blue-eyed lefty spawn.”

  “And if she mates with a shifter?”

  Wes tipped the bartender and they moved away, beers in hand. “Same deal. All of her children might be able to shift, or none of them. It’s a dice roll.” They stopped at the edge of the dance floor, and Wes leered at his friend. “Why are you so interested?”

  Caleb smiled. “What did my aunt do to persuade you to breach—”

  “I’m going to go say hello to Lorraine Winston,” Wes broke in, and hurried away as Caleb enjoyed a hearty laugh.

  Chapter Ten

  From where she perched behind a row of thick shrubbery dividing the hotel from the shoreline, Calla could not only see the activity on the other side of the wide glass doors, but she could sense everything. Ice in rocks tumblers crashed against glass in a cacophonous symphony, and even the most clandestine whisper between friends sharing a secret sounded as though people conversed with bullhorns. Yet Calla gritted her teeth—fangs—and continued her surveillance in her new form, one she hadn’t realized she was capable of achieving.

  She looked down once again, still in disbelief as she lifted a large panther paw and turned it over and back again. How could she have lived so long without knowing her true genetic makeup? Her mother, rest her soul, had mentioned nothing about this, on either side of the family. Her father had died when she was three, and she knew little of her paternal heritage. Perhaps her mother had been kept in the dark as well. For her protection? She’d never know, but at least she had this truth.

  It still didn’t explain, though, why she’d just now discovered this ability to shift. Caleb and other shifter friends had come into their full abilities at puberty, so it stood to reason she should have as well, regardless of whether or not she was aware of it. First thing tomorrow, she’d schedule an appointment with Wes for a checkup, and answers.

  Hopefully her doctor could guide her toward a proper orientation of this new form and show her how to control her senses and prevent overload.

  Caleb could, too.

  Calla snorted and trotted a few paces away from the party. From the moment she realized her ability to shift, her thoughts turned to Caleb and rushing over to the Houlihan house to reveal herself. Discovering this so late in her life brought on bittersweet feelings as she realized what might have been. How much pain could have been avoided were it known Calla was a panther?

  Of course, would it have guaranteed that Jim Houlihan and the others would have arranged for her and Caleb to mate? They may still have paired him off with Teresa and given her to somebody else—maybe Wes. Calla’s thoughts drifted to her doctor and good friend, and her heart panged to recall how his mate had betrayed him.

  Padding back to the shrubbery, Calla attempted to focus all of her energy on Caleb. Maybe through this singular thought, she could pinpoint him and block out the increasing white noise and scents. Crouched low behind the bushes, she scanned the ballroom through a hole in the leaves and found him with Wes, chatting.

  Damn it. His voice jumbled with the rest, and unfortunately this shifting ability did squat for her lip-reading skills.

  Who the hell are you?

  Calla snorted again, surprised by the clarity of the voice in her head. She ungainly whirled around and tried not to collapse on seeing the wolf staring back at her. Bent in what Calla assumed was an attack position, the wolf bared glistening fangs and scruffed one white-socked paw in the sand.

  White socks?

  Maya, Calla cautiously called out in her mind, is that you?

  The wolf hesitated, then relaxed her stance. What the fuck…Calla?

  Yes!

  A low whine emitted from the wolf. What…what the hell? I didn’t know you were a panther.

  That makes two of us, Calla said. I’m guessing this isn’t something that happens when you wish upon a
star.

  Oh, hell no. Maya trotted back and forth, as though appraising Calla. Unless I’m drunk, and I’m not, I have no other explanation. You obviously have panther blood in you, girl.

  Fat lot of good it does me. Calla rose to all fours and stretched.

  What do you mean? Now all your dreams of Caleb can come true. Maya’s voice echoed with consternation in her head.

  Just because I’m a panther doesn’t mean I’m going to beat a path to his door, Maya, Calla said. True, this made things easier if she chose to pursue a relationship with Caleb again, but…

  The wolf edged closer. What’s on your mind, doll?

  Calla watched the wolf, swearing Maya grinned underneath all that fur. How is it, she asked, that you managed to get this far in life without being forced to mate?

  The wolf tossed back her head and let out a yip. Well, for one, werewolves aren’t endangered, Maya said. There’s no pressure for me to mate, not with all the hungry she-wolves roaming about. Besides, I rather like the single life. So many possibilities, as you already know.

  Right. Calla tried to picture rolling around with Maya while in their animal forms and shuddered. Why aren’t you at the party?

  It’s boring, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. With that, Maya nodded her snout toward the glass doors as one of them opened.

  Calla turned, expecting to see Caleb dart out to look for her. Instead his aunt stormed up the patio, her face contorted with anger. Only one thing could inspire such rage on this important night.

  Trisha. The belle of ball had bailed. Good for her, but Calla felt for the girl’s cousin, who no doubt would suffer some of the repercussions.

  Maya, you wouldn’t happen to know where Trisha—

  When Calla turned back, she saw only a wide expanse of sand and waves.

  * * * *

  “Caleb!”

  His heart stilled for a moment, thinking Calla had finally arrived. Forty-five minutes into the ball and his mind worked rapidly to concoct a plan for a discreet exit if she didn’t show. He had no reason to be here anyway, he mused to himself. It wasn’t as if this was the actual mating ceremony and he had to give his cousin away.

  Somebody called for him again, and Caleb thought suddenly of Trisha. He’d been so wrapped up in meeting Calla here that he realized he hadn’t seen his cousin in a long while.

  A hand gripped his arm. “Wake up!” Sheila admonished him. “I’ve been yelling at you from across the ballroom for five minutes.”

  “The music’s too loud,” he said. A lame excuse, yes, but at least Sheila kept quiet as she dragged him to the outdoor patio.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as the warm August night quickly inspired perspiration to bead on his forehead. “I haven’t seen Trisha, and I don’t—”

  “We’ll worry about her later,” Sheila snapped, and grasped Caleb’s shoulders as though to hold him still. “Just stand here.”

  Caleb did as told, now worried for his aunt’s mental health.

  “Do you smell it?” she said, prodding him. “Concentrate.”

  “Fine.” Anything to humor her, and keep her from bugging him the rest of the evening. “What exactly am I…”

  That’s when his panther senses picked on it. Her.

  Calla was here, but where? He’d know her unique scent anywhere, only now it seemed different somehow. Matured, more distinct.

  Caleb froze. Like a panther’s.

  He turned a hard stare on his aunt. “Did you see her?”

  “No, but she’s close. I don’t understand it. Wes told me she was only recessive for shifting, and as long as we’ve known her I never picked up so strong a scent.”

  Caleb paced the length of the patio. If this were true, then Calla had this ability for some time, when they had first dated! Had they only known back then… He couldn’t decide whether to cry or whoop with joy.

  “Maybe Wes was wrong,” he said. “Or he read her records wrong.”

  “What does it matter now, she’s a panther!” Sheila rushed to hug him. “There’s no way in Hell she could mate with any of the wolves now. Thank God you listened to me and decided to pursue her. Now we don’t have to worry—”

  Yet, in a split second, Caleb found they had plenty to worry about when a very furious panther leaped from behind the shrubbery to pounce on Sheila.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her paws pinned Sheila’s dress sleeves to the ground, rendering the woman immobile. Clearly, for all of the woman’s bravado and abilities, Sheila looked helpless and frightened. Calla wondered at first why the woman simply didn’t shift and counterattack, but then she thought maybe the older woman decided this stance might work as a good defense mechanism.

  Caleb towered over them, trying to shield them from the view of anyone in the ballroom who happened to turn toward the sea. “Calla, get off her now!”

  You bitch! Calla bared her fangs, her anger fueled by Sheila’s unwavering glare. She hoped the woman could hear her in this state. What business is it of yours to pry into my personal life?

  “Calla, I mean it,” Caleb warned. “If you’re only just discovering you can shift, you don’t know your own strength. Now back away before you do something you’ll regret.”

  Calla didn’t move. She snorted in Sheila’s face, daring the other woman to retaliate.

  “You’re not a violent person, Calla. I know this is difficult for you to accept, and believe me, I’m not happy with what my aunt did, either. Could you please move and we’ll talk?”

  Calla craned her neck to look up at Caleb. From this vantage point, he looked different. Maybe her new panther eyes projected a unique perspective, but she swore Caleb looked all the more appealing.

  Can you hear me? she asked. She had no trouble understanding him.

  He nodded and gestured seaward. “Wait for me out there. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Already his hands worked on the buttons of his shirt.

  Calla did her best nod in return and cast one last glare in Sheila’s direction. You stay put, she snarled, then quickly rushed away. The hop back over the shrubbery proved disastrous as her hind legs caught the top of the green coming down. She did manage, though, to land on her feet, though ungracefully.

  She snorted and trotted away. This new body would definitely require a lengthy adjustment process.

  * * * *

  He left Sheila to collect herself and dashed out of sight, stripping as he went. Once naked, he leaped from the patio and hit the sand in panther form, searching the night for Calla.

  She hadn’t gone far. He found her parked where the tide marked a border of foam separating wet sand from dry. Quietly he padded next to her and sat, swishing his tail her direction to get her attention.

  How do you feel? he asked.

  Weird, and comfortable. I wish I could describe it better. She raised a paw as though snatching a pocket of air. One minute I’m standing in my backyard drinking wine, and the next I’m tearing down the beach in fur like I have good enough sense.

  I think you described it fine, Calla. Much of being a panther comes to you easily, like learning to walk and talk. You seem to have picked up on it rather quickly.

  Why now, though? The exasperation in her tone panged at his heart. I don’t get why this didn’t come to me when I turned thirteen, like with you.

  Caleb didn’t have an answer for her. He hadn’t heard of “late bloomers” in the shifter world, and as far as he knew no human could simply become a shifter even if he or she coupled with one. Were that the case, this would have happened to Calla much sooner.

  Maybe Wes could tell you, he suggested. Run some tests.

  Yeah, Wes. Calla growled. What’s all this about Sheila and Wes? How does she know my medical history better than I do?

  Hey, I’m not my aunt’s keeper. I had nothing to do that. Please, though, argue with her when you don’t have claws.

  The she-panther moved away from him. From what I heard, it sounded as though she put yo
u up to seducing me.

  Hey. Caleb pawed at her, but she moved away. Before them the tide brushed in closer and the seawater matted his fur, irritating him to no end.

  To hell with this, he decided, and shifted back. Sitting cross legged in the sand, he snapped for her attention. “Calla,” he said, “can you shift back?”

  The panther paused and looked down as though contemplating the question. Caleb suddenly worried, for if she had not been aware of what precipitated her first shift maybe she’d end up stuck as a panther for a while.

  Soon, though, a change in her sleek feline body allayed his fears, and she now reclined naked in the sand, as a human.

  Calla raked a hand through her hair. “I think this feels less natural,” she said with a weak smile.

  The moon above, paired with distant lights from the hotel, provided enough light for Caleb to see her clearly. Now that Calla had developed her panther senses, she’d see him better as well. “Shifting is sort of like a drug,” he told her. “When you first learn, it’s all you want to do. You have to learn to control it, among other things.”

  Calla looked toward the hotel, worried. “I wasn’t going to hurt Sheila,” she said, “but she really pissed me off.”

  “Me, too. I want you to know, also, that my coming to the salon today had nothing to do with her. Now, when she told me about your genetic makeup that partly influenced me to consider extending a romantic overture or two.”

  Calla laughed and shook her head.

  Caleb chuckled in kind. One couldn’t argue that wordiness wasn’t a panther trait. “I have to confess, though,” he continued, “that what set off the spark for me was watching you the other night…while you were in your bedroom.”

  Calla gasped softly and her eyes darted from side to side, no doubt clicking through memories.

  “You were pleasuring yourself, or trying to.”