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Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel)

Page 3

by Catherine Lundoff


  Somehow, Becca didn’t believe her. But then, what difference did it make? What kind of harm could she possibly do? She met the woman’s eyes again and felt a little shiver run through her. There was some kind of challenge there, along with something that felt just a bit familiar. But that made no sense; she was sure she’d never seen this woman before. She blinked and glanced away for a second to clear her head and the sensation went away.

  Then the woman stretched gracefully, her wide shoulders shifting like a wrestler’s. “You ever see any wolves in these woods?” Her tone was casual but something in it caught Becca’s attention, jolting her body awake and taut, like a wire.

  But she took a deep breath to steady herself, trying to feel her way to a casual response; somehow she didn’t want this stranger knowing what she was thinking. It felt like a test of some sort. “Yep, they’re mostly down in the Preserve. It’s illegal to hunt them around here, you know.”

  The woman smiled again. “I look like a wolf hunter to you? I take photos but I don’t like to be surprised by my subjects. I just wanted to know how safe it was out here.”

  Becca found herself choosing her words with care again before she spoke. After all, it wasn’t like nothing ever happened in Wolf’s Point. No point in being too trusting about strangers. Or letting them think that they were all welcome, even the bad ones. There had been that young man killed out in the quarry a few years back. But then they’d caught the guy who did that, something about a fight over a truck.

  Then there had been the couple who had tried to set up a meth lab just outside town—blown sky high the two of them were. But the coroner had ruled that an accident. Meth was flammable stuff, or so she’d heard. Good thing no one else was tempted to try it, at least that she’d heard.

  Her thoughts wandered around until she wondered why she was thinking about making the town sound more dangerous than it was. It wasn’t like she had any business running the tourists off. Even the annoying ones. She wondered if this was the onset of her crotchety old lady years. That was enough to make her choke out, “It’s pretty safe around here.”

  Then something made her add, “Most folks who find it otherwise bring their own trouble with them.” Her words surprised her, like they’d come from someone else.

  The other woman raised an eyebrow and held up her hands to show they were empty. “Not looking for any trouble. Just heard this was a nice safe place to camp for a woman on her own.”

  Becca flinched. Her imagination was running away from her along with her hormones. Here she was projecting her nightmares and bad mood on some poor stranger. “I’m sorry. I had a bad night and you startled me, that’s all. The wolves have never attacked anyone as far as I know and yes, this is a safe place to camp. If you want to go into town, we’ve got a pretty good deli and the pie at Millie’s is the best for miles around. If you’re up for a hike, Jenner’s Falls is a few miles upstream. It’s really gorgeous this time of year.” She glanced down at her watch. “I need to head back and get to work. Have a nice stay.”

  The woman bared her teeth in acknowledgement and nodded. “Thanks. You have a good day.”

  Becca headed back up through the trees, but just before she went over the ridge, she glanced back. The woman was still looking after her but now she had company. There was a man, big and blond with a long, angular face, standing next to her on the riverbank. The woman seemed to know him. That was odd; why had the woman said she was alone if there was someone else with her?

  Overcome by curiosity, she ducked behind a tree and watched them through a screen of leaves for a couple of minutes. The man was talking, gesturing, but she was too far away to hear what he was saying. Then he turned and she thought she saw a familiar logo on the back of his black jacket.

  She remembered the website she’d seen and her pulse started to race. Her hands were shaking as she argued with herself: there was nothing to worry about and she was overreacting. The second and third repetitions didn’t work either. This woman and her companion just…smelled wrong. Now where had that come from?

  She took a couple of deep breaths to clear her head. Whoever these people were, even if they were just role-playing, someone should know about them and keep an eye on them. Becca headed for town at a trot. She had to tell some authority figure, warn them to look out for these strangers.

  She raced toward the sheriff’s office, her steps slowing to a walk as she paused to catch her breath on the outskirts of town. Odd how she felt so invincible running with Erin the other night and now she could barely do more than a brisk walk.

  “You’re in a hurry this morning.” A familiar voice made her whirl around, pulse racing and cheeks flushing.

  Erin was walking up the street toward her, looking concerned. Becca tried to sort through the jumble of her thoughts. What was she going to tell the sheriff anyway? Maybe she’d better practice the story first, make sure she was making sense to someone besides herself. “I saw some campers up in the woods. They didn’t do anything but they gave me the creeps. One of them was asking about the wolves.” She rubbed her arms anxiously and scowled.

  Erin’s face hardened and her jaw set. “You don’t say?” She spoke softly, belying the menace in her expression. “What made you think there was something odd about that?”

  “I don’t know, really. The woman I talked to was asking about the wolves in the woods and said she was camping alone. Then this guy showed up after I walked away and he had on this jacket with a weird logo on it. I saw something like it on a website I looked at. But it’s probably just some role-playing thing…no big deal.” Becca shrugged, trying to shed the twisting feeling in her gut.

  Here she was, trying to downplay something even though she knew that something about it was wrong. It felt like that right before she found out that Ed had a girlfriend. You’d think I’d have learned to trust that feeling by now.

  But she could see Erin wasn’t paying attention to her last few words. Instead the larger woman was frowning back at the woods. Then she caught Becca’s shoulder in a light squeeze. “You going to let the sheriff know? Maybe one of his deputies or the rangers can check them out.”

  Becca nodded, relieved that someone else shared her fears. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  Erin glanced away and nodded. “All right. I’ve got some things to take care of but I’ll mention this to a few other folks too. The more people keeping an eye on them, the better. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Tonight? Becca couldn’t believe that she’d forgotten that it was finally Friday. “I’ll be ready.” She smiled, hoping that Erin couldn’t see how nervous she was.

  Erin winked and nodded. “I’ll pick you up around nine.” Then she loped off down the street toward downtown like something was chasing her. Becca walked after her and wondered just what was really going on around here. And why she’d ever thought that Wolf’s Point was a boring little town.

  Chapter 4

  ~

  When she told Sheriff Henderson about the two strangers by the creek, Becca tried to make her tone casual but concerned. Just the facts, ma’am. But she could see that he wasn’t really paying attention; there was lots of nodding, but not much eye contact. Occasional grunts sounded like agreement, but probably weren’t.

  He said the right thing though, “Sure thing, Miz Thornton. I’ll have Lizzie stop by and check it out.” He jerked his head at the deputy sitting behind him.

  Deputy Lizzie Blackhawk was typing something into a computer, her expression impassive. She glanced up at the sheriff’s comment and gave Becca a long unreadable stare. Then she raised one dark eyebrow and nodded before returning to the computer.

  Oh well, Becca thought. I’ve done what I can. That didn’t make it any less disappointing. But since Lizzie was Shelly’s cousin, maybe Shelly could encourage her to follow up a bit sooner rather than later. Or not at all.

  She kept telling herself that during her shift at the hardware store, but her nerves were on edge, fraying her c
oncentration. She would have talked to Shelly about the strangers but she wasn’t around. Pete said her mom wasn’t doing well and Shelly was at her place helping out. Whatever it was, his tone made it sound serious, and Becca was a little ashamed of her petty fears.

  It didn’t seem like a good idea to share her worries about the campers with Pete, though she was really wasn’t sure why. It seemed like there was no point in planting the suggestion that she was getting loopy and cranky in her old age. Instead, she fretted until her whole body felt like it was strummed to the breaking point, accompanied by the occasional hot flash.

  By the time she left work, she was a wreck. She dashed home and took a shower, then inhaled dinner in what seemed like five minutes. After that, she stared into her closet for what seemed like an hour. What did you wear to a mystery event you were attending with a woman you wanted to impress, even though you knew there was no good reason for you to feel that way? Her thoughts whirled and she wished she was out in the woods, running in the moonlight, letting the wind whistle through her hair. Now where had that come from?

  Becca shook her head and grabbed a matching dark blue top and slacks instead of her usual jeans. Nothing too fancy, but loose enough that she would be reasonably comfortable in it, hot flashes, nerves and all. Once she put it on, she realized it brought out the color of her eyes. She put her hair up in a clip and studied herself in the mirror, wondering whether makeup would help. Her skin was breaking out again. Damn. It was like being a teenager all over again, and that hadn’t been that much fun the first time.

  The doorbell interrupted her and she dashed out to let Erin in. “You ready?” Erin grinned down at her, a disturbing light in her silver-tinted eyes. “My, you look good enough to eat.”

  Becca shivered all over and fumbled for a response. “Um…thanks. Guess we’d better get going,” was all that came to mind and voicebox. She grabbed her purse and pushed past Erin in her rush to avoid making eye contact. Erin led the way to her car without further comment.

  The whole drive out to the Wolf’s Point Women’s Club was like that, at least from Becca’s point of view. Erin chatted away about town gossip and projects she was doing around her house like nothing was wrong. Becca stared out the window and mumbled responses.

  It was as if she could feel something huge and important hanging over them. Whatever it was felt like it was inside her too, coursing through her body with every thump of her heart until her skin felt like it was all that stood between her and some huge and monstrous transformation. Stagefright had never felt like this before. She rolled down the passenger window to get some air on her overheated face.

  It didn’t help. Becca almost bolted from the car when they got to the club. The woods on either side of the little red brick building beckoned, the inviting darkness under the trees called and the moon—when had she become such a nature freak? Sure, walks in the woods were fine in their place but in the dark? Though, come to think of it, it wasn’t that dark even though the sun was down. She could see almost every twig in the darkness under the trees. Her fingers tightened on the car door as she struggled to keep herself from running into the woods.

  “Later.” Erin’s voice came from way too close and Becca shuddered at the promise in her voice even as she turned and reluctantly followed her neighbor into the building.

  She tried to analyze that feeling of dread as she walked into the club. Mostly she just thought that she wasn’t ready for dealing with “The Change” with a bunch of women she clearly didn’t know that well. That must be it. Night had just come on and she wanted its darkness to hide all these stupid thoughts and emotions. It was too weird to share. Somehow, the words to ask Erin if it had been like this for her wouldn’t come to her lips and she was left mute and quivering.

  Once inside, things felt even worse. It was like she’d never seen the place before, though that was a ridiculous notion since she’d been coming here for ages. It was just that she’d never noticed the way it smelled like pine or the little creaks and groans that the wooden walls made around them. Tonight there was something new and sinister about the shadows, the lit candles on the tables, the expressions on the faces of her own neighbors that made it new and even a little terrifying. Why weren’t the lights on? The candles gave the place a spooky look.

  Even Shelly seemed mysterious and scary tonight. She gave Becca what seemed like a long-toothed smile, predatory though clearly intended to be welcoming.

  As Erin had promised, there was a cake and a couple of pitchers of what looked like margaritas on the table, along with some cans of soda, but Becca no longer felt like it was a simple celebration. The atmosphere was charged and while she was thinking about it, where was everyone else? The club had more members than this, and while she could hear movement in the next room, only Erin, Molly and Shelly were in the front room. Erin poured her a margarita and she gulped down half of it before she realized what she was doing.

  Shelly sat on one of the padded benches and pulled her down to sit next to her. “Look, Becca, we weren’t sure about what was going to happen tonight until a little while ago. Sometimes the change comes on really suddenly and we don’t have a lot of time to prepare. It brings on new feelings and…transformations, physical and emotional. I know you’re going through a tough time and I’m sorry that we haven’t talked about it. Between my mom’s illness and the Nest coming back here, I haven’t been paying as much attention and preparing you the way I should have.”

  Becca wondered if she looked as puzzled as she felt. What was “The Nest”? Did Shelly mean the “warriors” from the website? If they included that couple by the river, that would make sense, given the logo and her general bad feeling about them. What didn’t make sense was why Shelly would care about them. Did they pose some kind of threat?

  Before she could ask, the front door opened and other women began trickling in by twos and threes. Shelly sighed and patted Becca’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about a thing. We all went through it our first time too. It’ll be hard to get used to at first but we’ll help you.” She stood and walked away to greet the others, leaving Becca staring after her in complete bewilderment.

  It looked like Shelly standing up was some kind of signal. Molly came over and ushered Becca into the other room and into a large cushioned chair surrounded by a circle of other chairs.

  All the other women followed them in. Becca sat down nervously, the silence in the room making her twitchier by the minute. “So am I being initiated or something…” her voice trailed off. Erin gave her a reassuring smile that made her think of a wolf’s grin and it was all Becca could do not to run for the door.

  She made herself look around as the others, all twenty or so of them, sat down. She recognized women she had seen around town, even though not all of them lived in Wolf’s Point proper. There was Mrs. Hui, whose family ran Wolf’s Point’s only Chinese restaurant and Carly Simpson, the Baptist pastor’s wife. Her neighbor from around the corner, Gladys Sherman, nodded from her seat. Adelía Rodríguez from the gas station on Central gave her a shy smile.

  She didn’t know the others by name but all were women of a “certain age,” as those stupid magazines put it, none under forty-five or so but all hale and hearty. There was something else that they had in common, too, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  Erin set up a large mirror across from her so she could watch her own frowning, searching face and stiff body. This senseless gesture annoyed her and she found herself snarling a little in response. There, just for a moment, was the face that had terrified her the other day in her bathroom mirror and she flinched away, shivering. Surely she didn’t look like that all the time now, did she?

  Despite her fears, she could feel that same wildness building in her. Something was clawing its way to the surface inside her, racing beneath her skin and preparing to break through. She wanted to run and hunt and feel the wind outside. It made her impatient and her feet and hands tapped the floor and the chair in t
ime to her pulse.

  As if Becca’s mood was contagious, Shelly glanced out the window, then cleared her throat and stood. She held a long red taper in her hand, the flame dancing on an air current as it crossed the room. Distracted from her troubled thoughts, Becca imagined that her boss looked like an old-time shaman in a painting, standing there with her long black hair flowing over her shoulders and her dark eyes looking out on forever. She had never seemed so beautiful or so much a complete stranger.

  Shelly cleared her throat and said, “I think we’re ready to begin. The moon is starting to rise and we’ll need to be ready. Thank you all for coming to welcome our member Becca Thornton as she enters the Change that has taken each of us in our time. Let us help Becca embrace her own transformation and join with us to make the Pack stronger.” She waved the candle in a strange pattern and sprinkled some substance on the floor as she walked forward and circled Becca’s chair.

  What the hell was this? What was “the Pack”? Becca’s thoughts were frantic now, her skin burning. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back and sides under her shirt, her heart racing so fast that she trembled with each beat. Her whole body felt odd, out of place, as if it belonged to someone else. Everything was too long, too short, too stretched. Too furry. Furry?

  That was the realization that put her over the edge. She closed her eyes against the sudden wrenching pain that shot through her, starting at her feet and working its way up. It was like being pulled in fifteen directions and unable to respond to any of them. Her hair was standing on end and she felt her hands tighten on the chair. From somewhere close by, there was the sound of tearing and rending, of wood snapping. Something very scary was going on.

  The thought drove her to her feet, eyes open now, and body tensed to flee. Her movement showed in the mirror and she glanced at it, then froze. Her face was long, her eyes golden. Her hair seemed to be working its way down her forehead in a “V.” She was crouched over, huge and menacing. Her hands were far longer than they should have been, with fingers whose nails looked like claws. They were also covered with a light brown fuzz. The arms of the chair she’d been sitting in were matchsticks now, the stuffing trickling down to mound on the floor.

 

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