By the Light of the Silvery Moon

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By the Light of the Silvery Moon Page 2

by Amanda McIntyre


  “Have you noticed the hair is thicker?” Her mother sighed and brushed back a lock of silvery hair from her temple. Her ebony gaze stayed focused on the children playing in the yard across the street.

  Shelly studied her mother’s profile, not realizing until now how finely chiseled her features were. She was still quite beautiful. Shelly remembered how her father and mother adored each other and never tried to hide it from her and her brothers.

  “Yes, that too.” Shelly picked up her fork and twirled it nervously between her fingers.

  Her mother’s eyes turned to hers. She waited for Shelly to continue.

  “Look. I can’t keep my legs shaved clean.” Shelly hiked up her pant leg, the evidence of a five o’clock shadow apparent on her calf. “It’s becoming a bit ridiculous, really.”

  Her mother’s dark gaze remained steady, undaunted by Shelly’s obvious concern. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Her mother folded the towel, neatly creasing its edges. “You’re almost twenty-five now, and to be frank, I was a little worried, with you being the youngest of the litter that your change would be later in coming than it was for your brothers.”

  Shelly remembered how she suffered through the classes in school regarding body changes and hygiene, but not once did she recall the teacher lecturing on whole body shaving.

  Did she say litter?

  “Our family is a little different than most, my dear.” She averted her eyes from Shelly’s again. “We always joked it was just a family curse, but it’s more of a rite of passage into our family tree I guess you could say.”

  Shelly chuckled. Whatever it was her mother was about to tell her surely had something to do with the fact that she’d wolfed down three roasts and bought out all the personal razors at Farley’s Drug this past week.

  “You better give it to me straight, Mom. And this time, it’s probably best if you spell it all out and not hold anything back.”

  “Okay, dear, the truth is you’re a she-wolf. There it is. Your father was human and I, well; I’m a she-wolf, too. It’s nothing you or I, or any of our kind can prevent. I’m afraid it goes back to an ancient curse, brought on our ancestors by a band of disgruntled gypsies, somewhere in Romania.” She shrugged as if such a tale was common between mothers and daughters.

  Given the initial shock, Shelly felt she took the news of her excessively hairy future quite well. Actually, it was the part about the band of gypsies and the ancient curse that seemed difficult to swallow. As strange as the whole thing sounded, it certainly did explain some of what had happened to her recently. All the pieces fit—save one. Most disturbing was the thought of having to spend the rest of her life alone.

  “There are others like you, dear. Eventually, you’re bound to meet one of them on a moonlit night in the woods.”

  “Of the human variety?” Shelly asked jumping out of her seat, knocking it over in her flight. She slapped her palms against the table and gave her mother a piercing look. “Listen, do I have any say in this? What if I refuse to change? What if I don’t believe in this curse?” This was not her idea of meeting Mr. Right. Besides, she had her eye on someone, though under the circumstances, she wasn’t sure he was going to be too receptive to the idea of her hairy persona. The thought did not settle well in Shelly’s gut, especially when she considered Jerome’s lineage in taxidermy.

  “I’m afraid you have little choice.” Her mother crossed her arms.

  “Isn’t there something that can reverse…this…this curse?”

  Her mother let out a deep sigh. “None that I’m aware of.” She stood and returned to her food preparations. “That’s not to say you won’t find companionship and maybe even love. It can happen at the strangest times.” She shrugged, as if Shelly had no real concerns.

  “Unless he’s a sales rep for Schick, Mom, I don’t think most men are going to take kindly to the idea,” Shelly retorted, stabbing with some futility at humor.

  “Your father did.”

  Shelly’s mouth dropped open. “Dad?”

  Her mother stopped and looked over her shoulder with a dazzling white smile. “I never told you how we met, have I?”

  “This is all pretty new to me, Mom. I’m just hearing for the first time that I’m destined to a life of extensive shaving.” Shelly slumped into the kitchen chair, determined that anger would not change fate.

  A smile tugged at her mother’s mouth. “It must have slipped my mind.”

  Shelly glanced at her with a wry grin. “Imagine that.”

  “Oh, now. There are worse things that could happen,” her mother cautioned.

  Shelly gave her mom credit for her June Cleaver way of handling this. “Name one,” Shelly responded. Good Lord, could the news get any worse?

  “Hunters.” Her mother’s dark brow arched, accentuating her point.

  “Ok, fair enough.” Shelly ran her fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp furiously.

  “Oh, and fleas.”

  “Mom, please. Please give me a break.”

  Her mother nodded. “Well now, let me see if I can recall the events.” She leaned against the countertop, her attention on the dense woods that stretched beyond their backyard.

  What did she call me? A she-wolf? What about my brothers, were they affected by this curse? Shelly waited with her focus honed in on the nuances of her mother’s expression. As if by instinct, the hairs on Shelly’s forearms stood on end. She slapped at them in frustration.

  “He was new in town. At first, I thought he was another hunter.” She smiled at her thoughts. “I saw him in a glen one autumn evening. The harvest moon was large and full, illuminating the whole campsite. He didn’t see me, of course, and I didn’t want to frighten him. I was young yet and not fully trusting of humans.”

  Her mother’s expression turned wistful.

  “Is this approaching the part where I plug my ears and sing at the top of my lungs, Mom?” She wasn’t too keen on listening about her parents’ intimate escapades. Yet, she could not deny her curiosity. She didn’t want to be grossed out.

  “For me, it was love at first sight. He sat near the campfire, warming his hands, so big and strong looking. The glow of the firelight enhanced his rugged features. Oh my, he was a handsome man.”

  “Mom? Can we move this along to the part where you managed to tell dad what or who you were...er…are? I mean, how did he take to having intimate relations with a wolf?”

  “Well, I didn’t have to convince him.”

  Great. Her father was into animals. This certainly was more information than Shelly was prepared to hear. Maybe it was better to drop the conversation completely. This was all so surreal. Maybe she’d awaken soon and realize she was only dreaming.

  “I don’t mean it that way.”

  A flicker of concern passed over her mother’s face as she sat down again across from Shelly. “I found out he wasn’t hunting at all, but was hired by the university to research endangered species in the area.”

  Shelly’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Sort of what Jerome does now,” she stated quietly.

  “That’s right. How could a woman not fall in love with a man of such concern for animals? Though I caution you, James Hinkle was not a kind man. Not to his family or to animals.”

  “Beats Larry the butcher for sure, Mom,” Shelly sighed.

  “I pursued him—your father—during the day in town.”

  “In human form?”

  Her mother frowned. “Of course. I used to work at Larry’s.”

  “At a meat market?”

  “It was an honest living.” Defensiveness hinted in her response.

  “As well as convenient.” Shelly glanced up and caught her mother’s disapproving gaze. “Sorry, Mom.”

  “He was a vegetarian.”

  “Larry?”

  “Your father.” Her mother gave her a pointed look.

  “So, how’d you meet—?

  “He’d come in for scraps to take out to th
e woods.”

  “Did Larry know…you know, about your hairy side?”

  “Yes, he did and he accepted me without question. Though I suspected at one point he wished I’d chosen him instead of your father.”

  “I had to ask.” Shelly rubbed her fingers over the dull ache throbbing at her temples.

  “Eventually, your father asked me out. One afternoon, after a picnic in the woods and a little too much wine—things got a trifle out of hand. And—”

  Shelly held up her palm. “Let me guess, the spiel on safe sex did not apply here?”

  Her mother ignored her, but her eyes twinkled with the memory.

  “We must have been exhausted, because we fell asleep, our bodies warmed by the sun and well, exertion, I suppose.”

  “Mom, really I don’t need to hear every detail,” Shelly stated.

  “When we woke up it was night and with the rising of the full moon, I’d changed,” her mother explained.

  “You mean, changed, as in…?” Shelly twirled her finger in mid-air, having trouble speaking aloud what her mind thought. “Yes, into a wolf. It was as though he could read my mind. He just lay beside me, stroking my coat, telling me that I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.”

  “Under normal circumstances, I’d say that was a worn out line, Mom.”

  “Where love is concerned, Shelly, things work out. What happened between your father and I was as real as between two humans. We just lived a lifestyle that accommodated our separate lives. Not so different from human couples who work day and night shifts. We made it work, obviously, because here you are, and your father adored you.”

  Her mother gave her a gentle look. A sting pricked at the back of Shelly’s eyelids, remembering how kind her father was to all living things. “But how?” Shelly couldn’t bring herself to ask how the curse transferred to her.

  “When a half breed gets beyond her teen years, the wolf inside begins to emerge to its fullest extent.”

  “You mean we become more of a traditional werewolf?” Shelly’s day was becoming stranger by the minute.

  “Yes, but during the day, we are as ordinary as the next person. We dress in clothes, can have normal sex—”

  “Mom,” Shelly blurted.

  “Well, you wanted to know your fate, Shelly. I’m telling you that when you find the man you intend to mate with for life, the animal passion inside you emerges. It’s great for both parties involved.” Her mother popped a piece of raw meat into her mouth.

  “Except that we have a penchant for raw meat and have to consider electrolysis on an ongoing basis?” Shelly responded dryly.

  “I wouldn’t do electrolysis, dear. It can ruin a perfectly good winter coat.”

  “Right, how could it be anything else? Mom, what am I supposed to do now?” She gazed upon the woman who so gracefully accepted, if not embraced, her lineage in all its complexity.

  “Live as you have. Work, play, laugh, and love just as anyone else. But you must know what your boundaries are with people and places.”

  “Will I eat road kill?” Bile rose in Shelly’s throat.

  “I’ve only ever given you the choicest of meats.” Her mother plopped the meat into a casserole dish.

  “That’s not for Bridge, is it?”

  Her mother smiled. “Larry might stop by later.”

  Shelly held up her hand, stopping her mother’s explanation. She’d absorbed enough information for one day.

  “Will I walk on all fours?”

  Oddly, with each of her questions answered, Shelly became more comfortable in her own skin…or fur, as it were.

  “Only if you feel the need. The transformation for half-breeds really only affects body hair and desire.”

  Shelly’s brows raised into her dark bangs. “Desire?”

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Well, we she-wolves have our—seasons.”

  “What, like menopause or ovulation in humans?”

  “Like heat; burning, and insatiable.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Shelly reached down to scratch the stubble forming on the back of her calf.

  “It depends.”

  “On what?” Shelly closed her eyes bracing for her mother’s answer, no doubt as weird as the rest in this past hour.

  “The right male.”

  “The right male,” Shelly reiterated. Naturally.

  “He should have a great deal of stamina.”

  Change of topic. Shelly cleared her throat.

  “Mom, what really happened to dad, Evan, and Josh that night?”

  Her mother’s expression crumpled. Shelly kicked herself mentally for bringing up the painful topic, but it was important for her to know the truth. She was not oblivious to the way Jerome looked at her, though he thought she ignored him The truth was, whether she-wolf or not, if his father had been involved in the killing of her family, like the rumors circulating about town, there was no way their relationship was ever going to work.

  “Your father had gone looking for me. He heard some of the men talking about the rare wolf seen in the woods. As always, he was concerned for my safety. I had a den meeting and was on my way home.”

  Shelly suppressed a smile. Den meeting? That gave new meaning to Mr. Royce and his Boy Scout troop.

  “That’s when he stopped me.”

  Shelly frowned at her mother, trying to keep all the information she’d learned today sorted in her mind. “He? He who?”

  “James Hinkle. That’s who Larry said it was. He said he received a phone call from Hinkle. One of the wolves trespassed onto his property. All I can remember of that night is a bright light blinding me and seeing the barrel of a gun poised on me. I was too afraid to move, until I heard your father’s voice telling me to run.”

  Her mother placed her forehead in the palm of her delicate hand. “Hinkle’s bullet, intended for me, found your father’s chest instead. Your father ordered me to run. If I’d stayed with him, Hinkle would have surely killed me, too.”

  Her mother’s eyes welled with the torment of her memory. “I can still hear the sound of your father’s voice telling me to run.”

  Shelly’s stomach churned as she listened to the account. “And my brothers?”

  Her mother’s hand flew to her chest and her eyelids squeezed tight against the tears flowing freely down her pale cheeks. “They were older than you, but still new to their transformation and hot-headed. They went after him when I returned home, seeking revenge on the man who shot their father—your father. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  Shelly clutched her mother’s hand, not wanting to hear anymore but she needed to understand what happened.

  “Larry explained that Hinkle shot them both. When a wolf is killed with a silver bullet, it transforms back to human form in death. There was no indication of a struggle. Larry was Sheriff at the time and he was called out two days later, when their bodies were discovered. James Hinkle was dead with a single gunshot wound to the chest. The details were never revealed, but Larry determined that Hinkle must have killed your brothers and, while dragging them to the woods, fell, discharging his gun, accidentally killing himself. I asked Larry to explain his theory and he would have, but he felt the details would have proved too much for me to bear given my current state. Bless his heart, he was protecting me.”

  Shelly sat stupefied, listening to her mother’s story. “I wonder of Jerome knows the truth?”

  Shelly had managed to get under his skin, all right. Maybe it was years of research and knowing what made animals attractive to one another. Whatever it was, his body responded like a divining rod whenever she neared. It was the strangest thing he ever experienced in his life. His dad told him once, “We’re all just animals, son.”

  Pheromones, Jerome knew, were a natural fact. That’s what creates the strong attraction between mammals. He’d all but concluded he had it bad for Ms. Shelly’s pheromones and other parts of her as well. There were times he swore he could sense her p
resence before she opened the door to Big Dan’s.

  Jerome lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. He slept like the dead most nights, unable to remember dreams, unable to remember much of anything except waking up thinking of Shelly.

  “Hey, Shelly.” Big Dan offered a bright smile as he wiped his greasy hand across the morning spatters of his apron. Granted, there were too few women as fine as Shelly around these parts. Still, Dan gave Shelly a look that left Jerome wondering what kind of animal Dan was deep inside.

  “Just a short order of my usual today, Dan. I’m not as hungry.” She slid onto the stool one over from Jerome.

  “Hope you’re not coming down with something. They say it’s gonna be a rough flu season.”

  The red leather seat squawked under her beautiful bottom. What Jerome wouldn’t give to be in that lucky seat.

  “Just not getting enough sleep, I guess.”

  “Worried about that wolf, I’ll bet. Dern thing’s been keepin’ lots of folks on edge.” Jasper offered his two cents without taking his eyes off the morning newspaper’s comic section.

  Shelly glanced at Jerome. A hint of a smile played on her lips. Lips he could almost taste. He swallowed hard against the dryness in his throat.

  “I’ve had to work late this week at the Quik-Foto. Someone has been working extra hard to keep me developing his pictures.”

  Jerome’s heart slammed into his chest. He picked up her scent of soap, mixed with a spicy floral musk. It muddled his brain, intoxicating him with desire. Hell, had no one been around, he’d have taken her right there on the diner’s stool.

  “The university is interested in the wolves around here. I took a lot of pictures of tracks. The beavers down at Landon’s dam sensed some changes, too. I’ve got my eye out for poachers from dawn until dusk.” Jerome slid a look past Shelly’s shoulder, hoping to meet Jasper’s eye. He looked back at Shelly, catching the admiration in her soft gaze.

  She raised her brow. Those eyes of hers invited him to seek out the secrets she held behind them. Jerome was lost. He didn’t sense the scalding coffee, until it soaked through the denim of his jeans. “Damn it!” He jumped up, briefly catching the amused look on Shelly’s face.

 

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