“No one’s been bitten,” Will said.
“Then—”
“What are we doing here?” Jessie interrupted. “We’ll get to that.”
We reached a large log house at the end of the street. The porch was a bit rickety, but other than that the place seemed sturdy enough. After digging a key from her jeans, Jessie unlocked the front door, snapped on the lights. She motioned me inside.
As I inched past her she plastered her shoulders to the door, insuring we didn’t touch, even by accident. I tried not to let that bother me, but it did. I’d always been lonely, but since no one knew of my affliction but Edward, the cringing in my presence had been kept to a minimum.
We took seats in the small living room, and more staring ensued. Jessie, never a patient woman, was the first to speak. “Talk, Doctor, or I’ll make you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Jessie came to her feet and so did I. Though we were the same height, she probably had ten pounds on me. Nevertheless, I knew who would win a physical fight. If only she didn’t have that gun filled with silver.
Will grabbed her hand before she could draw the weapon. Leigh put herself between us, and Damien reached out to halt my mad rush. But right before his hand touched me, he snatched it back.
The movement made me pause, remembering why I’d kept my secret all these years. If Damien couldn’t handle what I was, how could I expect anyone to? Especially anyone like Nic. If I told him the truth, he’d think me insane. If I showed him, he’d find me both hideous and terrifying. Better he hated me for a selfish, unloving bitch than that.
Defeated, I collapsed in my chair. “What do you want to know?”
The others sat. At first no one spoke, then they all spoke at once.
“Who?” Jessie wondered.
“When?” That was Damien.
“How?” Will asked.
Leigh merely said, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why haven’t you been able to cure yourself?”
Since my antidote had cured Leigh, but not Damien, she’d called and harassed me continuously. She’d often been rude, crude, condescending. I’d put up with it because I understood her smart mouth and habitual snarl were rooted in fear. If I couldn’t cure Damien, no one could.
“It’s not for lack of trying,” I said.
The room went momentarily silent, until Will broke the ice. “Who bit you?” he clarified. “Where? When?”
“I wasn’t bitten.”
All four of them glanced at one another, then back at me.
“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Will said.
I took a deep breath and a moment to think. I’d never told anyone my story before.
“When werewolves touch in human form we feel each other’s power and the demon that sleeps inside of us. But I don’t have a demon, and neither does Damien.”
“I had one,” he said. “At first.”
Damien had been like all the rest, until he’d run afoul of an Ozark Mountain magic woman. He’d been blessed to lose the demon and cursed to remember all that he’d done while having it.
“You’re working for the good guys now,” Leigh said. “You’re making up for all that you did.”
“I can’t make up for that. There isn’t enough time on this earth.”
Leigh lifted her eyes to mine. I could read her thoughts loud and clear.
Fix him, she begged, as she had a hundred times before.
“Get on with the story, Doc,” Jessie urged. “We don’t have all night.”
My story wouldn’t take that long, since it was relatively simple.
“I wasn’t bitten,” I said. “My mother was.”
Damien’s head came up. “Lycanthropy isn’t hereditary. A werewolf can’t breed.”
“Can they?” Leigh’s voice quavered.
Her concern was understandable. I wouldn’t want to have puppies, either.
“No,” I assured her, and she visibly relaxed.
“As Edward tells it, my mother was bitten while she was pregnant with me. The shock sent her into early labor.”
“But—” Jessie frowned. “I thought the virus was passed through saliva.”
“Right.”
I didn’t elaborate. Within a few seconds, the light dawned on them all.
Jessie and Leigh paled. So did Will. Only Damien had the strength to articulate the truth. “She was bitten in the stomach?”
I nodded.
“And you?”
“The best I can figure is that the virus entered the amniotic fluid, infecting me, though I wasn’t affected the way most humans are.”
“You shifted, but you weren’t possessed.”
“Pretty much.”
“What happened to your mother?” Leigh was staring at me with more sympathy than I’d ever seen in her eyes, except when she was gazing at Damien.
“The change killed her.”
Which was true. She’d changed, then Edward had killed her.
The room went silent. At least no one said they were sorry. They’d have been lying. My mother, once bitten, had been doomed.
“What about your father?” Leigh asked.
“My entire family was wiped out by the werewolves that bit my mother.”
Leigh’s eyes softened for an instant. “Sorry. That’s rough.”
She should know.
“When did you realize you were different?” Damien asked.
“I was twenty-two.”
His eyes widened. “You were normal until then?”
I didn’t know how normal I’d been—an orphan, raised by the man who’d killed my mother—but I nodded anyway.
“What caused it?”
“At the time I had no idea.”
As if the change had happened yesterday instead of seven years ago, the fear came back, along with the pounding panic, the crushing pain.
“I was in college at Stanford—”
“Nice,” Jessie said.
“Edward spared no expense.”
“Mandenauer paid for your schooling?”
“Edward has paid for everything.”
As a child I hadn’t known why Edward was caring for me, I’d only been glad that he was. I had no one else.
After I learned the truth, I’d figured he felt guilty about making me an orphan. Recently, I’d come to understand his assistance had been based on suspicion. He’d wondered what I might become and when. The only reason he hadn’t killed me when I changed was because I was different, and that difference had been useful to him.
“I always thought there was something going on between the two of you.” Jessie’s gaze wandered over me again.
For a second I didn’t understand what she meant. When I did, my cheeks flushed, and my fists clenched. “He didn’t pay for me, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“If the name slut fits ...”
“Gutter brain,” I muttered, which only made Leigh snicker.
“Stop it,” Will snapped. “Let Elise finish.”
Jessie and Leigh didn’t appear contrite, but they did shut up.
“The first change came under the wolf moon,” I began.
“When the hell is that?”
I should have known Jessie wouldn’t be able to shut up completely.
“January.” Will shot her a quelling look. “When the wolves howl with hunger in the depths of the winter snows.”
“Well, not at Stanford,” I allowed, “but it was January. As I’m sure you’re all aware, full moons are a busy time.”
Just ask any ER physician, maternity floor nurse, psychiatric attendant, or waitress at the nearest twenty-four-hour greasy spoon.
My last semester before medical school—new classes, new books, new challenges—I’d been excited, anxious, and in love.
“Why then?” Damien asked. “Wouldn’t the changes of puberty initiate ... other changes?”
I hadn’t considered the notion. But now that I thought abo
ut it, Edward had.
The years between twelve and fourteen were the only ones I’d spent with him. He’d been possessed by the desire to live in a castle in his native land. The middle of nowhere, practically on top of a mountain. While there, I’d had a tutor. A huge hulking bear of a man, who was as frightening as he was smart.
When I’d been sent to Austria three days past my fourteenth birthday, I’d thought I’d done something wrong. What I had done was gotten my period and neglected to grow fangs. Good girl. Funny how things made sense from a distance of years.
“I’d think if you were gonna go furry,” Jessie murmured, “you’d have done it right away. Got an explanation for that, Wonder Doc?”
I was used to a certain amount of respect, if not for the Ph.D. behind my name, then for the advances I’d made in lycanthropy research. Trust Jessie not to give a shit about either one.
“I have a theory.”
“Which is about as close as we’re going to get to an answer, I’m sure.” Jessie sighed. “Get on with it.”
“I believe the small amount of virus I received in utero lay dormant. When it was activated, there was only enough to cause the change, not enough to ...”
I wasn’t sure how to articulate what happened to a human being when the virus turned them into a monster.
“To strangle your soul,” Damien whispered.
Silence settled over us until I broke it with a simple, “Yes.”
“So you’re the perfect werewolf?” Leigh asked. “All the superpowers without the pesky demon?”
“I wouldn’t say perfect. It’s not exactly fun to change.”
Or at least it hadn’t been until yesterday.
“I remember,” Leigh said.
When a person is bitten, they experience a kind of collective consciousness. As the virus penetrates their blood, they imagine the coming change, remembering things that have happened to others. They feel the pain, the power, both the terror and the temptation.
“What about the blood lust?” Damien asked. “The love of the kill?”
“The killing sickened me. Not that I didn’t do it. I couldn’t stop myself.”
At my words, both Leigh’s and Jessie’s fingers crept toward their guns. I doubted they even knew they were moving, so deeply ingrained was their response to a threat.
“But I invented a serum. Under a full moon I’ll still change, but I’m not compelled to kill.”
Their hands left their weapons.
“I wouldn’t mind some of that sauce,” Damien said.
“I’d be happy to share. If it hadn’t blown up with the compound.”
Chapter 11
“Relax,” I ordered before Jessie and Leigh could threaten me again. “I’m not going to flip out and start eating the populace.”
At least for another few days.
“You can make more,” Damien said. “Can’t you?”
“Sure.” As soon as Edward handed over the formula.
I’d planned to send Damien some of the serum before the next full moon. The item had been on my to-do list. Along with a bunch of other things I couldn’t quite remember.
I crossed to the window, peering at the second floor of the antiques store. A light was on inside, but no shadows moved beyond the curtains.
“Maybe I should see if they’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
I turned at Jessie’s words. “You’ve never told me why you came to Fairhaven.”
The four of them exchanged glances. I was getting really sick of being on the outside looking in. I should have been used to it by now, but I wasn’t.
“We’re not exactly sure,” Damien said.
Leigh shushed him, and I shot her a glare. “If the compound wasn’t toast, you’d be sending me a report. You never had a problem with that before.”
“Before, you weren’t one of them.”
“I was. You just didn’t know it.”
Leigh’s fingers curled into fists. “I can’t believe you let your hair down and run naked in the woods once a month.”
“It isn’t as if I have a choice.” I didn’t want to talk about my affliction—with her or anyone else. “Can we move on? What’s happening here?”
Silence reigned for several ticks of the clock before Will spread his hands. “People are disappearing.”
I wanted to say “Same old, same old,” but that wouldn’t be helpful, would it?
“Who called Edward?” I asked instead.
“The sheriff.”
“Bodies in the woods? Mangled? Eaten?”
“Not this time.”
“What, then, this time?”
“People go missing,” Leigh said. “There’s blood but no bodies.”
“We thought the victims were shifting more quickly than usual,” Will continued. “Maybe some new kind of spell.”
“Instant werewolf.” Jessie made the motions of a drum roll with her hands. “Presto change-o.”
Uh-oh. My hand went to the talisman in my pocket.
“But there hasn’t been an increase in the wolf population to account for the vanishing citizens,” Will said. “Damien believes there aren’t any wolves here at all, except for him.”
“No werewolves?” I glanced at Damien.
He shook his head. “No wolves of any kind.”
“There are wolves all over this part of the state.”
“Except in Fairhaven,” he said.
“The only reason for no wolves in a place like this would be werewolves.” I shrugged. “They don’t like one another.”
“Exactly,” Damien agreed. “So what does it mean if there’s neither one?”
I had no idea, but I doubted it meant anything good.
“No one’s seen any wolves,” Leigh said, “but the forest is full of crows.”
Crows and wolves work together in nature. Wolves tolerated the birds, even let them feed off their kills. In return, many naturalists believe crows fly ahead of the packs, leading them to prey. The behavior transfers to werewolves. Where there’s a lot of one, there’s a lot of the other.
My own fascination with the large, black scavengers had begun in childhood. While many people used them for target practice, I’d drawn pictures of crows over and over again. When I got older, I began to collect figurines, paintings, stuffed animals—like the one Nic had found on my desk. Heckle and Jeckle had been my favorite cartoon.
No wonder Edward had kept such a close eye on me.
“When I’m out in the woods,” Damien continued. “I sense ... I’m not sure. It’s as if something’s coming, or maybe just left. I feel watched even when I’m certain nothing’s there.”
I’d say he was paranoid, except I’d felt something, too. “What were you shooting at when I got here?”
“Shadows,” Jessie muttered. “We’re all spooked.”
Which wasn’t like them. Werewolf hunters were the least spookable creatures on earth. They had to be.
She saw my expression, must have read my mind. “I can kill anything I see. But what am I supposed to do when I know it’s there, but it isn’t?”
I had no answer for that.
“Are you sufficiently brought up to speed, Elise?” Edward’s voice from the doorway made me spin.
“I hate when you sneak up on me.” That he could was amazing in itself. I had the hearing of a wolf.
I glanced past Edward, searching for Nic, my mind already scrambling for a way to explain our discussion of disappearing bodies. But my boss was alone, and that made me more nervous.
“What did you do with him?”
“Who?”
“You know damn well who!”
His eyes narrowed, and I swallowed the rest of the angry words that threatened to spill off my tongue. They’d get me nowhere.
“Where is Agent Franklin, sir?”
“Where do you think?”
My heart skipped, then lunged into my throat. “You didn’t.”
“That depends on
what you think I did.”
“You can’t go around killing FBI agents.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because your answer to every problem is to shoot it?”
“It has always worked well for me,” he said.
I couldn’t just stand around while Nic might be dead or dying. I started for the door, and Edward yanked me back. “Relax. He is safe.”
He dropped my arm immediately, surreptitiously rubbing his fingers against his black pants. Though I’d been expecting it, Edward’s typical reaction to being anywhere near me hurt more than usual.
The only man who had ever touched me gently, willingly, was Nic—and he didn’t know what I was. Seeing him again made me long for what I didn’t, and couldn’t, have.
“By safe you mean—”
“Alive,” Edward snapped. “I am not completely senile. Yet.”
“Yet being the operative word,” Jessie said.
I tensed, anticipating an explosion of German obscenities. Instead, Edward smirked, winked, and the two of them chuckled. I stifled my childish jealousy. He would never care for me the way he cared for Jessie or Leigh, and I’d better get used to it.
Edward glanced at the Fitzgeralds. “I thought I sent you two... elsewhere.”
“We wanted to hear the story of why your second in command turns furry every month.”
The last flicker of humor fled his eyes as he glanced at me. “You told them everything?”
Not everything. There were certain secrets only Edward and I could ever know.
“I told them the basics so they wouldn’t shoot me.”
“They were ordered to leave you alone.” He fixed the others with a glare. “Elise is beyond your reach. She answers only to me.”
“La-di-dah.” Jessie stuck her nose in the air. “There isn’t a scratch on her.”
“But not for lack of trying,” Will took her hand when she would have slugged him.
“You are not to play games with Elise. No physical fighting, do you understand?”
A warm glow began in my chest. Edward was worried about me.
“She could kill you without even trying,” he continued, and the glow died.
He was worried about them. I should have known.
“Can I talk to you?” Damien jerked his head. “Outside?’
Dark Moon Page 7