Binding: Book Two of the Moon Wolf Saga

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Binding: Book Two of the Moon Wolf Saga Page 21

by Carol Wolf


  “No—turkey bacon!” he croaked.

  “Nah,” I said. “It was pork. And so was the chili verde you had for dinner last night.”

  “Stuart! No!” Holly's hand raised to her lips in horror.

  Benjamin was laughing.

  “And as for you,” I said to him—

  “No, no, don’t spoil it,” he raised his hands.

  “No?” I asked, my eyes glinting.

  “I’ll confess,” he smiled ruefully. He looked around at the others, who gazed at him with bated breath. “It's the milkshakes. I can’t give them up. Or coffee. Or beer. Gotta have them. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, Benjamin!” Holly's hand came away from her mouth. “I thought you were so advanced!”

  He shook his head, smiling.

  “And,” I turned to Holly. Her eyes changed. Something feral gleamed there, something that said to me, “don’t you dare!” But I did. “You’ve been practicing awfully hard too, for Cecil to get back. With Stuart in the bed, with Jeeves on the bench in the garden, and there was another guy, this morning, also in the bed, who smelled of chlorine…”

  “No! It's not true! You’re lying!”

  “I so am not. Just some extra workouts, right? So should I mention the waiter in the rec room?”

  “No!” Holly shrieked.

  Actually, that one wasn’t true. “No, but Cecil and you did some practicing on this couch. Several times.”

  “Here?” Stuart asked accusingly. “You were with him here? You told me—”

  “How do you know it was Cecil?” Benjamin asked, with academic curiosity. “Have you ever met him?”

  “I saw him once, at a meeting.” I had, at Tamara's. The white scarves were a clue. “But I’m pretty sure he gave her the scarf she's wearing.”

  “Ah,” he said, satisfied.

  “Stuart, you have to understand—”

  “No, no I don’t understand! We had an agreement!”

  “We were studying!”

  “And as for you,” I turned to Sally. Her mouth opened, and her eyes opened, and suddenly she looked very small, waiting for a blow that would knock her down. “Completely vegan diet, month after month, yuck! How can you stand it?” Her mouth relaxed and began to smile. “Does all that great sex you’ve been having really make up for it?”

  Sally gleamed at me for a moment, then glanced around at the others. “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “You! Get out of my house! Now! Now! Now!” Holly shrieked.

  I turned to her, and changed, and grew, and lunged. I took her head and shoulders into my jaws and pressed down with my teeth just exactly enough, and let go and changed again before anyone in the room had a chance to react. She was still opening her mouth to scream. I leaned over and spoke in her ear. “Don’t touch me again. Ever.”

  There are lots of ways to bite. They don’t all involve drawing blood. I must really be growing up, I thought, from the vantage of my glorious new height of five foot almost one inch.

  And then she did scream.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Holly's screams followed Elaine and me down the stairs and out of the house. They wafted us across the bridges, along the gravel to the four-car garage, where Elaine retrieved my wallet from the glove compartment of the dark green Porsche, whose keys Holly had thrown at her, “Take the damn thing, you sickening horrible bitch!” followed by another scream, “Don’t scratch the paint or I will fucking kill you!” And hey, the clothes I’d been wearing when they caught me lay in a wad in the passenger foot well, together with—hooray!—my tennis shoes. And all this would have gone much faster if we didn’t have to keep stopping while Elaine leaned on the wall or another piece of furniture or a fence post and howled with laughter, again.

  Sally drifted out with us, wearing a smile of peace and satisfaction. It must have been the meditation.

  By the time we got back to my car—and there was no one to bring it to us by this time—Elaine's laughter had subsided to occasional gurgles that bubbled up, with gasping reminders about the look on Holly's face, or had we seen the spittle in the corner of her mouth, or the way Stuart had looked at her. Elaine leaned over the hood of my car for one last howl. Then she straightened.

  “Oh, god, that was the best party I’ve ever been to.”

  “Yup,” Sally agreed.

  “Listen,” Elaine said to me, “I am going to take you out for the best dinner we can find. And there's going to be a whole lot of meat in it.”

  “Can I come?” asked Sally.

  “How about me?” Benjamin came crunching across the gravel in the twilight toward his car, parked nearby next to Sally's. “I’d love a good dinner. With lots of meat. And a chocolate milkshake.”

  “Sure!” said Elaine. She directed me back to Calabasas, and led the caravan of three cars to a steak house. And there was a whole lot of meat, and laughter, and milkshakes all round, and together we made a much better party than the one earlier.

  I dropped Elaine off at her place and headed back across the great city toward Whittier. She still hadn’t forgiven me for her truck, but that was all right, since it wasn’t back from the shop yet. The not-so-evil vet and I parted on fair terms. It had been a really good dinner.

  Traffic was light for a Saturday night. I hit a slow-down on the 101 near the city center. Some event breaking up and everybody heading home. My arms and body throbbed from the beating I’d taken. Now that the party was over, now that dinner was done, all I wanted was to curl up in bed until I stopped hurting.

  When I got to Whittier, heading down Greenleaf for my turn onto Philadelphia, the downtown seemed more lively than usual, so I continued down the street, looking for what was going on. The club on the corner in the building that used to be a bank had a line around the block—the Whittier College students had to have something to do on the weekend. The cinema down the street was letting out its last show of the night, and a couple of the coffee shops were open, but the real noise and energy came from further along the street, on the other side.

  The Amadeus Music Store's sign was lit, people crowded the sidewalk outside, and through the windows churning bodies bobbed to the sound of drums and fiddle playing. I found a parking spot around the corner and made my way back. Yvette was dancing to the sound of her own drumming, with half a dozen fellow drummers from the Wicca group, in counterpoint with a clutch of solemn young fiddlers, beating out a tide of joy to fill the room and spill out down the sidewalk. I got it, finally. This was the store's official opening day, and Yvette had organized a proper celebration. I went to stand by Yvette, and she nodded to me, without missing a beat.

  “Hey,” she shouted. “Nice outfit!”

  “Guess what?” I yelled back, “I’m taller! I’ve grown! Almost an inch!’”

  She nodded to me, smiling. She hadn’t heard a word I said. And it wouldn’t mean anything to her; Yvette was tall as a mountain, maybe almost five ten. Well, I was probably going to grow even more. I wasn’t done yet.

  I found Ariadne in the midst of a crowd of well-wishing guests and future customers. She wore a long black gown and glittering silver earrings, with her hair hanging loose down her back. One of the counters offered an array of snacks, and another offered drinks. I grabbed one of each and wormed my way in to greet my boss.

  “I got my wallet!” I announced to her over the din. “I can fill out the application now!”

  She nodded and leaned closer, so she wouldn’t have to shout. “You’re hired. Start tomorrow. Eight-thirty.”

  “Thanks!”

  “And Amber—”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded at my clothes. “Nice look. Keep it up, when you’re working in my store.”

  I could see that my days of dressing without looking at what I pulled out of the closet were about over.

  I saw Jason in the doorway to the back room and headed that way. I thought if that's where the bears were, there must be better food back there, but I was mistaken. Tamara and the
sorceress, head of the local Wicca group, were making signs over the back door with candles, incense, and salt. Well, that made sense. If Tamara was coming here to do a working, it would be only courtesy to contact the local sorceress. To get her to help was even better.

  Jason and Jonathan stood watching. I waited until the two women of power finished what they were doing before going to greet them.

  Jason took my shoulder and stared down into my face. “What happened to you, girl? You been in a fight?”

  “You might say that.”

  “You win?” Jonathan asked.

  I grinned at him, showing my many white teeth.

  “That's good.”

  “All right, then,” Jason said, nodding, and let me go.

  “Yvette arrange for this party?”

  “How did you know?”

  “The drumming pretty much gives it away.”

  “She told me about Ariadne opening today,” Jason said, “and I told Tamara that this shop had no wards, and Tamara said she’d come and see to it, and we brought some friends, like, to help with the buzz.” He raised his arms and pointed one toe.

  Jonathan bent down and pointed, and raised one huge leg behind him. “The groove!”

  Jason twirled. “The atmosphere!”

  Jonathan turned the other way, stamping his feet. “The beat!”

  They both raised their arms and posed, big finish. If you have never seen bears dance, it is a sight to behold.

  “The magic is definitely working,” I pronounced, and they both laughed, deep and loud.

  “Looks like the ladies are finishing up,” Jonathan observed.

  Jason agreed. “Shall we—?”

  “Check on the supplies again?”

  And the bears headed out to the food tables, clearing the way before them like a pair of tankers at a small boat regatta.

  Tamara came over to me and examined my face, frowning. She raised her hand over my forehead, and held it there, not touching me. “What trouble have you found now, child?”

  “It was a trap,” I told her. My head felt better, the ache lifted a little. It clouded again when she dropped her hand, but I still didn’t hurt quite so much.

  “You’re all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. Nothing damaged.” I couldn’t help it; I added, “You should see the other guy!”

  Tamara was not amused.

  “You were right,” I told her. “I was wrong. I’m going to have to raise my demon. In public, in front of everyone, so everyone can see him and talk to him. This has got to end. I keep being attacked, kidnapped, seized on for no reason. People are making stuff up about me out of their heads. And a whole lot of people are wasting a whole lot of time and energy fighting a fight that is over, and has been done with since the last earthquake. Did you know that Cecil, the Tantric Meditation teacher, is out on a boat trying to commune the World Snake?”

  A burst of laughter greeted this news. The sorceress had finished sprinkling salt along the windowsill and came up behind us. “Oh, funny,” she said. “He gets seasick, you know.”

  “He's been out there for weeks,” I told her. I looked at her speculatively, wondering if she had ever, ah, studied with Cecil.

  “Yes,” she agreed, still chuckling. “And he will stay out there until he knows the danger is past. Our Cecil doesn’t take any chances with his current incarnation. He's having too much fun.”

  “He's having too much sex,” I murmured.

  “That too,” the sorceress agreed. She must have read my thoughts. She was a sorceress, after all. “Oh, not me,” she said. “I never needed anyone to help me fly.”

  “I see you two have met,” Tamara observed. I was still staring at the sorceress, wondering if she meant what I thought she just said. Wondering, too, if she would give lessons. A flying wolf would be so cool.

  “We have,” I nodded.

  “But—” the sorceress added, “I don’t know your name.”

  “And I don’t know yours. I’m called Amber, here.”

  She bowed. “Well met, Amber. I am called Fireheart.”

  “Lady Fireheart,” I nodded.

  “I hear you found your demon boy.”

  “I found him. I let him go.” I turned to Madam Tamara. “Do you still want me to call him publicly?”

  Tamara nodded gravely. “I think you must.”

  “So do I,” I admitted. “Everyone has got to finally figure out that it is over. The World Snake isn’t coming, and Richard isn’t mine anymore. And then everyone can damn well leave me alone!”

  Lady Fireheart raised her brows. “Still trouble over the demon. Much as it grieves me to say it—”

  “Yes. You told me so. But if it weren’t for him, we’d be snake food by now, so it's a good thing I didn’t listen to you.”

  “You said it was dangerous,” Tamara reminded me.

  “It is dangerous. And I don’t know if it will work. I did dismiss him, I don’t know if he will answer me anymore. But if he does come, and he can convince people, it will be worth it to try.”

  “Then we will see you Monday night,” she nodded.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Wow,” said Lady Fireheart. “This I must see.”

  Tamara reminded me, “Everyone who comes will see how you do it.”

  I met her eyes. “Yes,” I said. “That, too.”

  The wards were not quite working, or they weren’t set up soon enough, because the police came before too long and broke up the party because it was spilling onto the sidewalk and people with drinks in their hands were dancing in the public thruway. Ariadne thanked them politely, apologized gracefully, and gave them food, but not drink. The drummers finished their last stomp while she did this, and the party broke up.

  Yvette went off with Jason, and I drove home. Climbing the steps to my apartment door I realized all at once how tired I was. I ached in places I didn’t remember being hit. Once inside, where there was no one to see, I pulled off my clothes and made my way to the bathroom. I turned on the taps and drew a deep, hot bath, and sank into the water. I traced the lumps and lacerations on my arms, the white stripes edged with pink where the bruises went so deep, it would be days before they colored up. My bruises hurt all the way to the bone, where they throbbed in time with my heart beat.

  I remembered Finley, beating on me. I remembered backing up, blocking his blows. I remembered thinking that he didn’t hit as hard as he used to, that maybe he was going easy on me, taking his time. And I realized again, as I’d realized it then, that he didn’t have it anymore. He couldn’t beat me. I had beaten him. If the evil vet hadn’t shot him, I could have killed him myself. And now he was on his way to Albuquerque. I sank under the water, eyes open, and softly sang my victory song.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I drove down to Garden Grove the next Monday night, with a shopping bag of paraphernalia for the public raising of my demon, and Yvette in the passenger seat. Yvette said she wasn’t going to miss this for anything, but probably she was coming because Jason would be there. Garden Grove is about ten minutes north of Costa Mesa, and forty minutes south of Whittier; not what I’d call half way. But Tamara had chosen the ground for this event with care.

  One of Tamara’s friends had the keys to an outdoor amphitheatre, and this had been determined to be the best possible space to do the raising. First, because it was outdoors and not indoors, thus preventing the possible destruction of a perfectly good building. Second, because the amphitheatre, though outdoors, could be closed against any uninvited observers. And because it had comfortable seats and accessible parking. But mostly because Tamara’s friend was giving her the use of it for free, for the evening.

  My bruises had stiffened up so that when I woke the previous day, it was an hour before I could raise my arms as high as my head. I was better today, though still sore. The bruises on my arms and body had begun to come up in all shades of red and purple. In another day or two, they’d be glorious.

  I’d bee
n told to come to the amphitheatre at eight, when the sun was just setting, but the parking lot held about twenty cars when we drove in. An old guy with a down-turned mouth and puffy, shoulder-length gray hair, bald on top, wearing a suit he’d had for many years, stood nodding at us by a locked gate leading into the Festival Amphitheatre.

  He started talking as soon as we came in range, while he unlocked the gate with one of his many keys, let us in, and locked it behind us again, and then escorted us along a passageway until we emerged in the amphitheater. He told us that the theater was dark, but that wasn’t true. The sun hadn’t set yet, and besides, half a dozen really bright lights shone on the huge concrete half-hexagon that was the stage. The red folding seats rose up for dozens of steps on three sides to the high wall behind them. The middle section was divided from the two small side sections by a pair of aisles. Most of the people who’d come to watch had found seats in the center.

  As I came into the amphitheater it became clear why everyone else had gotten there early, or I’d been told to come later. A dozen different wards had been laid in the theater in the last few hours, some set to protect the people in the audience, some to isolate the stage, and anything that was on it. Which was going to include me, thank you very much.

  The theater itself had been in use for decades, and the tangle of energy that had been raised there, over and over, in one performance after another, lay like dormant fretwork in the air. Tonight’s workings had been woven into it, so they stood out strongly and were easy to sense.

  Yvette broke away from me and climbed up the steps to the top row, where the four bears sat together, looking down on the rest of the audience. No surprise, they’d brought a picnic, and handed Yvette a bottle and a sandwich even before she finished hugging them. She sat down next to Jason.

  My guide with the keys brought me to Tamara, who sat in the prime seats, four steps up so that she was just a little higher than the stage, and in the center. She wore her ritual clothes, her deep blue gown and robe of stars. Her turban tonight was black and purple and jewels gleamed blue and silver in her hair. Her eyes were distant, still tranced from the powers she had been raising. She nodded to me. “Wolf child.”

 

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