WOLF MOON
By
Alicia Sparks
© copyright May 2005, Alicia Sparks
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright May 2005
ISBN 1-58608-583-2
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
Jake inhaled sharply as the needle pierced his skin. He should be accustomed to the sensation by now, but the burning still took him by surprise. It began at the injection site and then worked its way up his arm until the whole thing felt as if it had been filled with liquid fire. Slowly, he depressed the plunger on the syringe, watching the amber liquid course through and make its way into his veins.
His breathing would increase now. He pulled the needle from his arm and removed the elastic band that held his veins tight. Then he collapsed against the back of his chair. The sensation would only last a few minutes, but those minutes were excruciating. The liquid would first attack his nervous system and then go straight to his heart.
It would beat wildly, threatening to hammer right out of his chest. And then, just when he thought he would die from the intensity, it would subside. His breathing would steady. His heart would regulate. And he would be in control again.
His eyes wandered over to Lucy who lay in her cage, curled around a rock. "Thanks, girl," he managed through clenched teeth. Lucy flicked her tongue out, as if she understood and was saying "you're welcome." Once again, she saved his life.
It only took three minutes this time for the venom to move into his system. His fingers grasped the stopwatch, clicking it when the burning sensation died down. Ten years and it still wasn't any easier. He wondered if it ever would be. He scribbled a note in the file marked "Confidential" and then slipped the watch back into his desk drawer.
He washed his hands and slipped on his gloves with a snap and then he reached into Lucy's cage. Handling rattlesnakes was dangerous business, but the ones he dealt with were mostly harmless. They were used to the constant attention that he gave them. And in spite of their instincts, they rarely struck at him anymore. He'd raised most of the current crop himself, working with them since they were tiny, so his bond with the group was more advanced than it was with the nonpoisonous snakes at the zoo. Then there was that little matter of his constant injections of their venom, which formed a bond unlike any other he'd ever had with an animal.
"Well, girl, you ready for me today?" he cooed as he reached into the cage holding the five-foot snake. Lucy didn't even rattle at him as he gently lifted her from her rock.
He placed her on the table to get her measurements and temperature then scribbled a few notes in her file. "You're about ready for a fella, huh?" he asked as he wound her around his left arm. Even though she wasn't a constrictor, she pulsed and squeezed.
Jake had been studying the Massasauga rattlesnakes since he entered college. His love for the snakes became a career, and he got his doctorate in herpetology. The snakes were growing more and more rare in their home of Ontario and the surrounding areas in Canada. He commissioned a contract with the Committee on the Status of Species at Risk in Ontario and exported some of the snakes to the States to study in an attempt to help them adapt to new habitats and captivity.
But most importantly, the snakes provided him with the precious venom he needed in order to survive. Without them, he didn't want to think about it. The three years he had lived without the venom still haunted him. He wasn't sure where he had gone or what kind of harm he had inflicted on those nights when the moon threatened his sanity and everything within him snapped. It was by accident that he had been bitten. That night, he was sure the snake venom would kill him. Now, he knew it to be a blessing in disguise.
He turned back to Lucy, who was his pride and joy at the age of nine and was primed and ready for breeding.
"Well, I think I know just the one for you. See Killer over there? Now, don't get put off by his name. He just thinks he's bad. He's a gentle soul if you can get past the name. I think he's your type. Needs a woman like you to set him straight." He laughed at the irony of playing matchmaker for deadly snakes. In truth, he hoped the breeding between Killer and Lucy would work. If it did and the babies were viable, he would be on his way to helping save an at risk species of snake--one that didn't really like to mate in captivity under the watchful eye of humans. And he would have a new crop of venom to research.
"Sounds like someone I know," the deep voice came from behind him. Jake turned slowly to see Paul Mills standing behind him. Paul occasionally came around to help with the snakes, but he was mostly in charge of the large alligator exhibit.
"What?" Jake looked over his glasses at Paul, wishing he'd been able to find his contacts this morning.
"In need of a good woman to set him straight." Paul tapped Killer's cage.
"Don't do that," Jake warned. "Ever since Sarah got ahold of you, all you can talk about is me settling down. I'm fine just like I am."
"I bet your boy here would say the same thing," he indicated Killer.
"No, he wouldn't. He's at the right age to mate and...."
"And so are you," Paul laughed. "I know this really nice girl and...."
"No."
"She's at least as cuddly as Lucy over there."
"I doubt that. Lucy doesn't have fangs. Most of the women I know do."
"You date the wrong kind of women."
"Who said anything about dating?"
That gleam in Jake's eyes was evident. Jake ran around with Paul enough in high school for him to know that Jake didn't date as much as he slept around. "With anything that didn't crawl," Paul had once commented.
"So who's the new girl?" Paul asked.
"Who says there's a new girl?" He scribbled a few more notes on his pad and then replaced Lucy, taking his gloves off with a popping sound.
"If you ain't interested in meeting one, there must be one in your, er, life already."
"Nope," he sighed, stretched his arms over his head and shot Paul a crooked grin. "Just taking a break for a bit."
"Not slowing down in your old age, are you?"
"Thirty is hardly old." He took off his glasses and placed them in the faux snakeskin case in front of him.
"It ain't young neither." Paul enjoyed teasing Jake about his age, since he was a whole year younger than Jake and a lot more settled.
"Did you want something or did you come in here just to bother me?"
"Oh, yeah. I did come in here for a reason." Paul reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that was badly creased from being folded several times. "You planning on helping with the day camp this summer?"
"Day camp?" He scanned the flyer that Paul handed him. Sure enough, the name Dr. Moore appeared in bold print next to three daily sessions for three weeks. "Who the hell signed me up for this?"
"I figured you did. I thought it was a little unusual for you seeing as how you love kids and all." Paul rolled his eyes at this comment.
Even though Jake had only been back here for six months, his intolerance for children was apparent. He hardly ever volunteered to lead discussions with them. They were too jumpy around the snakes, not to mention the amount of germs they carried around with them.
"This sounds like one of Martin's schemes," he grumbled. Martin, the owner of the zoo, had been trying to get Jake more involved in the hands-on projects ever since he hired him. "Research is good," Martin had said, "but our hands-on demonstrations are the lifeblood of this place." Seems Martin planned to include him with or without his knowl
edge.
"He's just trying to get you out into the sunlight a little."
"No, he's just trying to get me to take over the reptile exhibit. I told him I'm a research man, not a PR person."
"You're perfect for the job, especially since Dr. Richards is leaving next week."
"Dr. Richards is leaving?" Jake took off his lab coat and threw it over the back of his chair, exposing a long blond ponytail.
"Yeah. Let me guess, news to you. Do you even check your mailbox?" Paul eyed the overcrowded cubbyhole near the desk. It was proof that Jake hadn't checked his mail in a long time. "I don't even suppose you're going to the retirement party."
"Shit. When is it?"
"Tomorrow night." Paul rummaged through the box, ignoring the few pieces of paper that fell out as he pulled the invitation from its place near the back. "This is your invite."
Jake snatched it from his fingers, unceremoniously ripping the envelope open. "Well, hell. I guess he is retiring. Why didn't Martin tell me this himself?"
"Maybe this would explain it," he handed Jake one of the fallen papers. It was a memo dated two weeks ago. "Seems you have a meeting with Martin in an hour."
"Shit," Jake took off his ever-present cowboy hat and raked a hand through his wayward hair before replacing it. He had to think of a way out of taking over the exhibit, and a way to avoid day camp.
"So I guess we'll see you there," Paul grinned.
"What the hell's this? Bring a date," he said the last sarcastically as he perused the invitation again.
Paul snatched the invitation from Jake, "Handwritten, too. Seems more of a requirement than a suggestion."
"You're a real Ray Stevens. I think I hear those big ol' purses of yours calling."
"They're no closer to being purses than yours are to being hat bands."
Jake sank back onto his stool after Paul left. He drummed his fingers on the desk and stared at Lucy for a minute, wondering what the hell he was going to say to Martin in less than an hour.
In the meantime, he decided to filter through some of the mail in his overcrowded box. Sure enough, there it was, the announcement that he would be leading the seminars on snakes. The day camp was being headed by Josie Mitchell, apparently Martin's niece, according to the handwritten note at the bottom of the notice. The words "Be nice" were also scribbled in there.
Josie Mitchell. The name didn't ring any bells. He didn't even recall Martin having a niece. It was of little concern to him, he decided, making his way across the empty zoo to the main office. The gates would open for business in an hour and then they would be swamped.
Jake didn't bother to knock on Martin's door when he arrived. A raised hand greeted him at the door, indicating that Martin would be off the phone shortly. He relaxed himself in the plush leather chair, wondering how many animals had to die to upholster the thing. Not that he was an animal activist or anything. God knew he wasn't a vegetarian, but he did err in the favor of practicality. And leather furniture wasn't practical in his book. Now leather boots, he looked down at his own scuffed pair, that was another story.
"Jake, my boy," Martin's big Texas voice boomed from across the room, "glad you could make it. Seeing as how I didn't hear back from you, I wasn't sure." He extended his hand to firmly shake with the young herpetologist.
"Wouldn't miss it," Jake went with a safe answer.
"Well, now, I think you know why you're here. I have an offer for you."
Jake took a deep breath and braced himself. He still wasn't sure how to get out of this yet. He figured he'd know it as soon as the words came out. "What kind of offer?"
"I want you to head the reptile exhibit. I know," he raised his hands again to still any questions Jake might have. "I know what you're thinking. But your research won't be compromised. I figure someone with your know-how needs to be heading up the project anyways. Seeing as how you're in tight with the fellas from up North."
"It's a generous offer, sir," he began, only to be interrupted.
"Generous, hell. Not much money involved. But you know that in advance. The way I see it is if you were after money, you'd still be in Canada. Since you're here, I figure you either love the job or the climate or you just wanted to be back home," he laughed.
Jake shifted in his chair. He hadn't taken the job for the money. He had taken it for exactly the reason Martin had said. He wanted to be back home. Needed to be back home. And it wasn't his love of the place that did it. This was the one place he knew he would be safe even if the venom failed him. There were enough wild animals in Carolton to control any bloodlust he might have. And spare any humans who might otherwise be threatened. "Well, sir," he began again.
"Nope. Don't need an answer right now. You just think on it. The big shindig is tomorrow night at my place. You come on and enjoy yourself. You can meet some of the people you've been avoiding since you came here, not that you meant to avoid them. I just know how you like being locked up in your lab. Anyways, you and your date be sure and come."
Jake wanted to tell him he didn't have a date and he hadn't been avoiding his coworkers, but the large Texan was shuffling him out the door. Before Jake realized what was happening, he was standing on the other side of the closed door. Well, hell, he thought. So much for turning the man down.
Jake was too anxious to go back to the lab. Lucy would catch the scent of his agitation quickly enough and try to bite. Too much venom would probably kill him. He still hadn't fully recovered from his injection earlier. He'd like nothing more than to go home and sleep until the full moon phase went away in three days.
Instead, he made his way to the alligator exhibit to watch Paul feed the giant reptiles. The alligators were separate from the rest of the reptiles, thanks to their status as state yard dog in Louisiana. Still, the thought of running the reptile exhibit was a daunting one. He had roots here, but did he want to stay permanently? He hadn't made up his mind about that yet.
He watched the gator, Big Al, chomp down on today's chicken. One bite and the bird had been swallowed. He watched as Paul sent another one down the feeding chute. His friend saw him standing there watching and waved.
Paul had it all, Jake thought. Nice job, great girl. Stability. No foreign blood coursing through his veins, threatening to wreck havoc on his sanity. No long blackouts followed by waking up with blood on his skin.
* * * *
"I still don't know how I feel about this whole day camp thing," Jake later confessed to Lucy. She was listening patiently, her head cocked as if she could understand every word. "I ain't much on kids," he let his Southern grammar habits slip in.
He looked over the packet Josie Mitchell sent to him. It had been stuffed in the bottom of his mailbox with several other important pieces of information. The main flyer was light pink and smelled lightly of roses. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of a day camp flyer with a hint of sex appeal. He could picture Day Camp Barbie, and images of Reese Witherspoon went through his head. How could he take the project seriously if the woman in charge didn't?
Ignoring the pink itinerary, he glanced through the rest of the information. Three groups of ten kids. The first group would be ages five and six, the second would be seven and eight and the third would be nine and ten. Next to each group was a listing of the children's names and suggested activities for each age group. There were a few handwritten notes in the corners. Next to one child's name was a note "handful." Another had "shy" written in. Apparently Josie Mitchell knew the kids better than most day camp coordinators.
Using her suggestions, Jake wrote in a few of his own, having a basic idea of what the kids would expect based on the knowledge he had at those ages. He always loved animals, reptiles in particular. He had gotten into a heap of trouble in the third grade when he slipped a snake into Josie Wyatt's desk. She pretty much hated him from that point on, and he was labeled a troublemaker. He laughed at the memory. And wondered whatever happened to Josie Wyatt.
* * * *
Josie had only th
ree days left to get everything together for the day camp. She shuffled the papers around on her kitchen table in hopes of a miracle. How was she expecting to keep the attention of thirty kids for more than half an hour, much less for half of the summer? She rifled back through Brian's file box. Surely the answer was in here somewhere. The camp had gone so smoothly in his more than capable hands four years ago. And now, it was in danger of falling apart.
"I am in way over my head," she spoke out loud, as she often did when she was trying to solve one of her problems. There had been so many lately. Some days, she thought she should just pack up and go ... somewhere.
She twisted her hair into a knot, held it up to the back of her head and then let it fall, causing her mass of dark brown hair to cascade over her shoulders. That was another thing she had been meaning to do for about four years. Do something with this overgrown, boring hair.
There was a time when she had a little bit of oomph. When she cared about her hair and her clothing. When she gave a damn about something not connected to the zoo. It wasn't that she hated the zoo. Quite the opposite. But sometimes she wondered if she was doing the right thing by being here and resurrecting Brian's idea.
"I think what I need is a little inspiration," she stacked the papers together and straightened the edges by tapping the stack on the kitchen table. Then she unceremoniously threw the stack back into the box labeled "Brian's Camp Ideas."
Double mocha fudge could solve any problem. She was pretty sure it could even be responsible for world peace. She had eaten enough of it lately to know that it was a sure-fire fix for whatever ails you. And she had the extra twenty pounds to prove it. But tonight, it didn't seem to have any answers. She stood in front of her open refrigerator-freezer combo and shoved aside the offending ice cream. Maybe mocha ripple?
The ringing phone interrupted her decision. "What?" she called to no one in particular, refusing to pick up the receiver.
"Hey, Josie girl. This is Uncle Martin. I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget about tonight...."
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