Binding: Book Two of the Moon Wolf Saga

by Carol Wolf

  “Wait until after dinner. Everyone will be in a better mood.”

  “I won’t,” I said. I went to stand across from Tamara at the table. “What do you want to ask me?”

  Susan turned and pointed the ladle at me. “After dinner.” She licked it before it dripped red sauce on the floor, but I got the message. Susan might be making dinner for family and friends, but Lady Fireheart was still in the room.

  Susan made vast amounts of taco salad, so there were leftovers despite the two starving children called in (over and over) from their game in the living room, the silent gangly boy who was my age who emerged from one of the bedrooms, and the bear at the table. I had several helpings myself. After dinner she put a plate of homemade butterscotch brownies on the table while the kids cleared the plates to the sink. They grabbed their share and went back to their game. Jason grabbed more than his share and cadged a ride from the boy back to Whittier, to hang around Amadeus Music until Yvette got off work. Susan made a pot of sharp, smoky tea and served it to me and Madam Tamara.

  “We have to ask you,” she said to me, as she sat back down at the table, “if you know anything about what happened to Keith.”

  “Keith?” I asked.

  “The boy who called your demon’s name in the parking lot.”

  “Oh.”

  “No one has seen him since that night,” Susan said. “His mother is a friend of mine. I don’t know what to tell her.”

  What was I supposed to tell them? That he was either drifting somewhere in the universe where Richard was the wind, the stones, and the spaces between, or still falling down a bottomless pit to the center of this or another world? Or maybe in a hospital in Poland, with a broken arm, a bite mark, and a case of amnesia?

  “Two other people who were there that night are missing, too,” Tamara added.

  Whoops, I thought. So he had gotten to eat a few. “Any Thunder Mountain Boys?” I asked.

  “Funny you should mention them,” Susan said. “There’s been some kind of explosion at their studio. They said it was a terrorist attack.”

  I started to laugh. “And it blew a big hole in the studio floor, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Are any of them dead?” I asked.

  Tamara and Susan shook their heads.

  “Then let them be grateful. Richard owed them.”

  “You admit your demon is at work in this?” Tamara asked.

  “No,” I said. “You took their oaths, didn’t you? Anyone who’s missing, that’s what’s at work. They saw what they were dealing with. They had fair warning.”

  “That’s true,” Susan said.

  I grabbed another one of the brownies. “So, what’s the new plan for dealing with the World Snake? Any meetings ahead? New workings? Coordinated power raisings?” Tamara and Susan looked at each other. I sat back. “So. You believe me. You finally believe me. The World Snake isn’t coming.”

  “It was a very convincing demonstration,” Susan allowed.

  “And various diviners have concurred.” Tamara added.

  “She’s turned,” I finished. “She’s not coming. Ha.” I grabbed the biggest brownie left on the plate. After all, I deserved it.

  “Then, is your demon still with you?”

  I shook my head, my mouth full. “He’s gone. He’s not coming back.” I swallowed. “Unless someone calls him. I know I’m not going to.” I met Tamara’s eyes. “Ever again. He said he’d eat anyone who did.” She nodded. That was good enough.

  “We heard a rumor that you attacked Darius,” Susan said. She poured us all more tea. “Is it true?”

  “I attacked him?”

  “You bit him in the skull,” Tamara stated.

  “Says who?” I wondered who had seen us.

  “I say so,” a voice spoke from the doorway.

  I looked up, and there was Darius. Kat McBride followed him into the kitchen, and set a chair for him. Susan went to hug him. He and Tamara nodded to one another. I sat there grinning like a fool.

  “He has a lot of questions,” Kat told us, “so I thought I’d bring him along. The people who have been helping him found him in his shop yesterday morning, taking inventory.”

  “They told me I’d been attacked and robbed,” Darius said. His voice was thinner than I remembered, from when I’d first met him. He seemed frail and wan, and the bandage on the top of his head looked like an absurd little hat. But it was Darius, not some empty shell. He fixed his gaze on me. “You attacked me the other night. You bit me in the head. What did you do to my store?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t do anything to your store.”

  Helmet-woman from the bookstore followed him in and was introduced as Patricia. The talkative biker we’d met at the bookstore loomed in after her, carrying a case of beer. He said he was called Terry. More chairs were brought, the circle expanded. Susan produced a second pan of brownies, which quickly disappeared.

  “You were angry with me, for what I asked of you,” Darius said to me. “But I didn’t think you were going to come back and attack me.”

  “She attacked you?” The biker stared down at me. “Which time?”

  “It wasn’t an attack,” I tried to tell him. “I did put a hole in your skull. And it worked! You’re better now.”

  Some of the women from Susan’s Wicca group came in. They made greetings and then went on through the kitchen and set up tables on the patio outside. Helmet-woman sat down close to Darius, and explained to him that he had had some kind of stroke, and had been nearly unresponsive for weeks.

  “What are you talking about?” He stabbed a finger at me. “She came to my shop a couple of days ago. She was looking for Marlin, and I explained to her that the World Snake is our first priority. And it has to be.”

  “Ask him what day it is,” I suggested.

  Darius heard me. “What day—? It’s March 18th.”

  In the silence that followed, we could hear the women talking out on the patio, and voices in the living room that signaled more people arriving.

  “Darius, it’s May 6,” Susan told him. “The World Snake has been turned, you’re back, and everything’s all right.”

  “It’s… ? No,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You trepanned him,” Susan said to me. “What made you think to do that?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t going to bring Richard into this discussion, because that would confuse the question of whether or not he was truly gone. “I just thought it might help.”

  More people came into the kitchen and I got up to make room for them. I let the crowd push me out onto the patio, where a string of bright lights criss-crossing the yard had just been lit against the twilight, and tables were being loaded with snacks and drinks. At the end of the patio a building with a roof and three walls stood next to a huge brick oven. I wandered over to the shed where shelves of ceramic pots stood, identical plates of fresh brown clay, rows of cups, pots, bowls in pale brown, without decoration, and bright glazed finished teapots, vases, platters, more mugs and bowls, with slashes of fierce color, or intricate decoration, all drying row upon row in the open air. Lady Fire-heart was a potter.

  A drum started up on the patio, joined a few moments later by several others. Women and men carried instruments out, found their places in the growing circle, and joined in. I slipped along the side yard to the front of the house where the house and the wards together muted the sound of the drums. Madam Tamara had wanted to see me, and see me she had. I had a trap to tend.

  “Amber!”

  I recognized the tall, heavy-set woman on the sidewalk, a white scarf draped across her shoulders. The flowing green gown was new, though, and the air of replete satisfaction, and the scent of lavender soap.

  “Someone I want you to meet,” she said with a smile.

  A big shiny car had stopped in front of Lady Fireheart’s house, and all the doors opened. A quick little woman hurried around the back to help a guy out of the backseat. He wore a
gleaming white robe that buttoned to his throat, and a short purple robe over it. His long black hair hung to his shoulders, beautifully combed and oiled. I didn’t need the white cloth around his neck to recognize him. I’d seen him once before at a meeting at Tamara’s, but it was the scent of lavender soap that told me who he was. And the smell of sex. The danger was over, the World Snake was gone, and Cecil was back in town.

  “Master,” Sally conducted Cecil onto the lawn, her hands in prayer position. “May I present Amber, of whom you’ve heard so much.”

  Cecil flowed toward me with his hands outstretched. “My dear girl, how wonderful to meet you at last. We have heard so much.”

  The bony little woman who had helped him out stood on his other side, her hands also in prayer position, her eyes down. She also smelled of lavender soap. The two men who’d been in the front seats stepped up to flank Sally. The stocky one with the deep tan had recently bathed, and before that he’d had sex with the bony woman. The other one, dark and slender, dressed in dark jeans and a white linen shirt, wore a little smile a lot like Sally’s. He also smelled of lavender soap. Honestly.

  Cecil grasped my hands in his and pressed them. “Wonderful! Wonderful! What you have accomplished! The World Snake has turned, and we have you to thank. I felt her, I felt her mind as she changed her course. And you, you are the cause. We have so much to thank you for!”

  Well, that’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? Praise and thanks? Kudos and acknowledgment? And it was true, but just… not from him.

  “You have so much to teach us. A demon, under your command! So advanced! And perhaps we can teach you a little as well. You must come to us, you must come and study.”

  The little smiles of the people around him increased, and their scents changed just a little.

  “Where’s Holly?” I asked him.

  He stopped smiling. “Ah, Holly. My dear disciple. She mistakenly took a wrong path, we think it was through improper meditation, and worldly pursuits. We have suggested that she withdraw for a time, and purify herself, and meditate anew.” He squeezed my hand again. “We won’t be seeing her for awhile. But come and see us! We have waived all initial fees, in honor of your accomplishment.”

  I didn’t even want to bite him. I didn’t like his scent. I grasped his hands in turn, leaned forward and reached up to speak softly in his ear. “I’m sixteen.”

  I let go as he stepped back so fast that he fell over the tanned guy behind him. I left him in the arms of his disciples, and headed for my car, smiling. I was learning lots of new ways to bite. I drove off to Calabasas to see if I’d caught anything in my trap.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When I got to Calabasas I once again parked a mile away from Elaine’s place, this time in a different direction, and approached on foot, walking along the left side of the deserted highway, where my scent would be obscured by traffic the next day. Finley’s truck was still where he’d left it, but it had been tagged with a yellow warning card from the local sheriff’s office, saying that it was about to be towed.

  The house next door to Elaine’s place stood empty. It had been built by someone from the same school of geometric house design, though this one looked like it was made from cut-out metal rectangles instead of giant sugar cubes. In one place the brick wall was only a few feet from the side of the house. I changed, took a bound from the far side of the road, made myself big, touched down on the wall and leaped up to the roof where I hunkered down small again. From the far side of the roof I could look over and down onto Finley’s truck. The little breeze blew down the road in my direction. If anyone came along, I would be sure to notice. I went to sleep.

  After two more nights of commuting to Calabasas after work, my patient hunting was rewarded. I was roused at about midnight from my nap on the roof by the sound of quiet voices and softer steps walking along the dirt road. When they were almost at the truck I caught their scent, and crouched lower, afraid they might sense my excitement. It was my oldest stepbrother, Tillman, and with him was Gray Fox.

  I made myself as small as I could in my wolf form. The air was not moving very much, and it moved from up the road, across the roof, and down to the yard below. It would be difficult for them to scent me. And if they did… I noted again the best direction to run and make my way back to my car. After all, there were two of them. I hadn’t planned that there would be two of them.

  The voices stopped as Tillman changed to his four-footed form and cast around the truck, and up and down the road, scenting the ground, the air, the standing grass, the bushes. Tillman is big as a wolf, with a heavy black head and a patch of pale fur on his back. Luke and I used to say it’s because he likes to roll in filth. I watched as he returned to the truck, stepped onto two feet and struck the side of it for emphasis. “She was here!”

  “They both were,” Gray Fox agreed in his measured voice.

  “What do you think happened?”

  “Lower your voice, sir,” Gray Fox advised. “There are people about.”

  “People?” Tillman mocked him, but he did lower his voice.

  “My cousins are casting for scent over these hills. It is possible that one or the other, or both were hurt, and went to ground near here.”

  “You think my brother was hurt?” Tillman sounded like this idea would never have occurred to him. I remembered Finley’s nose, how it had looked so cockeyed, and bled so much. I smiled to myself.

  Gray Fox leaned easily against the door of the truck, his arms folded. “The scent of his blood is on the grass beyond that fence,” he nodded in the direction of Elaine’s orchard. “Not enough for a death wound, certainly…”

  Tillman had already changed and dashed off. The Fox waited for him, bending his head in patience. Tillman came back a little while later and stood up again. “There was a fight!” he announced.

  The Fox nodded concurrence.

  “How could she give him a fight?” Tillman asked.

  “Probably he gave her a beating,” Gray Fox suggested.

  “Yeah, but then where is he?” He stared up at the hills, as though he’d spot his brother just by looking.

  “Do you think he might be holding her himself?” Gray Fox asked him. “That he’s found a den and means to keep her as his prize?”

  Tillman’s head came around, startled. “No way!” He thought a moment and then said, “You think?” And then he added, “Dad will kill him.”

  “Very true.”

  “I’ll kill him! Hell, that’s not in the plan!”

  “None of this is in the plan.” Gray Fox sounded bitter.

  “Yeah, well, who’d have thought the little bitch would take off like that?”

  “We all thought it,” Gray Fox corrected mildly. “What we didn’t think is that she would succeed.”

  Up on my roof, I grinned down at them. Ha.

  “When we catch her, it would be best if you cripple her,” Gray Fox told Tillman. “There will be no more running away after that. She has shown herself to be resourceful. She must be disposed of in such a way that she won’t be in a position to provide a rallying point for the others.”

  “I thought you wanted the little bitch dead?”

  “Not yet, sir,” Gray Fox cautioned, touching a hand to Tillman’s arm. “Not just yet. She’ll need to be seen at home, and seen to have lost, badly, before she dies. And she must die before your father kills her mother.”

  “Dad said to kill her,” Tillman said uncertainly.

  “Yes. But his orders to me, after we discussed it, were to bring her home broken. I’m certain you can manage that.”

  “Right. But what if Finley’s got her? What if he’s now her mate?” Tillman’s voice rose again. “What if he’s got her pregnant?”

  “What do you think your father would want you to do?”

  Tillman thought for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “Beat the shit out of them both, I guess. If she is pregnant, that should take care of any pups.”

  “We will make cert
ain of that.” The coldness in Gray Fox’s voice reached me where I lay. I felt a pulse of anger in my chest. I welcomed it.

  Tillman stared up the road, and then took a step to stand closer to Gray Fox. This time he really did lower his voice. “Do you think Finley heard the rumor? You know, about the… you know.”

  “The demon?” Gray Fox’s voice was mocking.

  “Yeah, and maybe that’s why he’s keeping her for himself?”

  “There isn’t any demon,” Gray Fox told him. “The little bitch never had that kind of power. If she had, I would have known it, and I would have let your father know long before he came and took the old bitch her mother for his mate.”

  “Right,” Tillman agreed. “That’s right. Still. A demon. That would be so cool!”

  “Yes, sir, but it is not to be. Now, let us see if we can run down these errant pups of ours. I have sent my cousins to each end of this valley and the next, to cut either of them off if they bolt. Let you take up the hunt, and I will follow.”

  “Yeah,” Tillman agreed, and I could taste his rising excitement. The memory of what Tillman’s excitement had meant for me in the past rose up in me. I quashed it. I was older now. Really. I was stronger. I’d beaten Finley, after all. And still the cold knot of fear was there, closing my throat, tightening my limbs.

  “The trail splits up that hillside. It may be an old track, or just another way to their den. I’ll take the north fork and you the south, if you like.”

  “I’ll take whichever one is fresher,” Tillman corrected him.

  “As you wish, sir.”

  “Let’s go find the bitch, and give her what she deserves. And if Finley’s got her, I’ll make him watch. Come on!” He leaped out onto four feet and tore down the road.

  Gray Fox started after him on two feet, taking his time. I saw him reach into his pocket, and heard the static as he thumbed on the radio. “Anything at your end? Very well. We’re at the truck now, and Tillman is taking up the trail from here. I’ll be following. No, it went exactly as I told you it would. Same stupid boy. Thank you, Cousin. Call me if you see anything. I’ll do the same. Out.”