Moon Dancer

by Aimee Easterling

  “Jacob! We have to get in the boat!”

  He glanced up...and my distraction was his undoing. The beast who had been a lighthearted, laughing human yesterday lunged.

  This time, she aimed for Jacob’s jugular. Teeth bit so deep he didn’t even manage a yelp as he went down.

  “NO!”

  I lacked a wolf, but I could still howl. A moan of failure and refusal to accept the evidence of my eyes.

  I could still stop this. Surely I could stop this.

  I leapt in the water, fully clothed. Swept my arm in a semi-circle of fury, thrusting icy water toward not-Val.

  The cascade fell short, just as every one of my actions had fallen short since entering this cavern. Droplets splattered on the rock between us. Only one sizzled as it struck the black beast’s fiery flank.

  But...she released Jacob. Released him because she was done, not because I’d attacked her with the weapon I should have thought of earlier.

  Not-Val sniffed the fallen wolf once, her nose lighting his fur until it charred and smoldered. Then she snorted. Turned. Padded back down the tunnel the way she’d come.

  I grabbed the kayak—who knew if I’d ever find it again in the darkness—and ran toward Jacob before the last of not-Val’s light faded. Even so, I took the final steps in pitch blackness, guessing at where Jacob lay.

  In the end, I stumbled across him. Tripped, my hand landing in something hot and wet and oozing.

  “No! Jacob! No!”

  My palm stretched across his throat. Weren’t you supposed to put pressure on big wounds to stop the bleeding? I shivered, but he didn’t. Hot tears struck the backs of my hands.

  I’d get my student to safety. That was the obvious solution. I’d roll Jacob into the kayak and paddle downstream as quickly as possible. Hospitals, emergency rooms. If my spatial guesswork was correct, the river would lead to our motel and I’d pound on every door until I found a vehicle....

  “Plus Suzy knows first aid. I swear it will be okay. Hang in there.”

  I could barely speak around my tears, but I didn’t bother to wipe them. No time for that. Instead, I stumbled through the darkness in search of water. Slipped on wet rocks. Fell on my ass.

  But the stream was close. Close enough for me to manage. I pushed the kayak I’d been dragging halfway into the water then headed back toward Jacob.

  And...realized I could see him. Very faintly. As if dawn was coming and the cave had a hidden skylight.

  I didn’t care about underground architecture. All that mattered was that my student lay right where I’d left him while his ribcage was ever so slightly beginning to rise and to fall.

  “Alive!” I sighed the word rather than said it. Success tasted like honey. I bent down to lift him—okay, to get a good grip for dragging purposes—then flinched as the contact burned.

  His eyes opened. Red coals just like Val’s...or rather, like the beast who had consumed her. Something powerful and painful punched me in the gut.

  No, not in the gut. This was magic, dragging at my essence. Not-Val hadn’t been interested in me. But Jacob was hungry and I was the only living thing present....

  He rose, steadier on his feet than not-Val had been. Of course he was steadier. He’d spent the last couple of days practicing in lupine form.

  He would catch me easily. Change me into the same darkness he and Val had turned into. Then there would be three of us down here, demolishing all who entered.

  Or, worse, escaping into the wider world for large-scale devastation.

  No, I have to stop this.

  He was my student, but I left him. Leapt into the kayak and pushed off into the water while Jacob howled his hunger behind.

  I BARELY NOTICED GOING over the waterfall. The drop into blackness was nothing compared to the deep well of pain in my belly. Cold water engulfed me. For one moment, I ceased to breathe.

  Then the kayak shot out on the other side, a nearly full moon pressing me upright. Black walls of a canyon rose on either side of the river. There was no place to land even if I’d had an oar.

  “A paddle. It’s called a paddle.” There might have been one in Jacob’s bag, some kind of collapsible metal doodad. I hadn’t thought to look for it. I wouldn’t have cared now if I hadn’t realized how essential it was to warn Claw.

  “We’ll guard your back,” he’d told me. He and Harry and Theta, all lingering at the front entrance to the cavern. Who would guard their backs if the fiery hellhounds were able to climb out and hunt them?

  A boulder in the current hit the prow of my boat and set it spinning. Cold water puddled on the inflated plastic and soaked the seat of my pants.

  It would have been so easy to give up and let the current take me. If the boat flipped or sunk, so be it. I deserved whatever nature dished out.

  “No.” I couldn’t hear my own voice over the roar of impending rapids. The kayak tilted erratically then spun faster as I struggled onto my knees to give myself more leverage. I had to straighten the vessel before we hit another rock.

  I lunged at a passing branch, grasping for the paddle-replacement and nearly turning the boat over in the process. Wet bark slipped through my fingers. The kayak swiveled back into the current. The branch smacked me dead in the face.

  And, at first, I thought that’s what the pain was. Cold wood against chilled skin—thoroughly unpleasant but not the end of the world.

  Only—the soreness seemed to emanate from my belly rather than my noggin. Where pack tethers used to terminate. A dull pain...then a sharp one, so extreme I called out.

  “Harry!”

  It made no sense, but I knew this loss belonged to the Changed werewolf who had fallen in love with Claw’s sister. A Secret Service agent turned shifter in loyal service to his President.

  I inhaled as the next spasm struck. This one was Theta. A pack mate who was still largely an enigma, although I was starting to appreciate her dry humor.

  Or I had been starting to appreciate her. Now, she was not-Theta. What else could the pain mean other than her loss to the demon hounds?

  There was only one pack mate left. The one I cared the most for.

  “Claw, run!” I yelled. Or thought I yelled. Strangely, the words came out as a quiet whimper even though the agony that tore through me afterwards was a thousand times stronger than any that had come before.

  Claw, lost to the darkness. Claw, who had Changed me and protected me and buoyed me up with his relentless vigilance.

  Ignoring the roar of the approaching rapids, I didn’t fight my body’s self-preservation instinct this time. Instead, I drifted like a leaf in the river, finding peace as I passed out.

  Chapter 30

  “Caaw!”

  I woke to a beak in my face. It was morning. I was alive. There was a raven sitting on top of my head.

  I pushed myself erect, or tried to. My hands barely obeyed me. I couldn’t feel my fingers as they slid across slick plastic and dumped me back into the watery bottom of the boat.

  “Caaw!”

  Where was I? Why was I so tired? Exhaustion cupped me like a pea-soup fog, obscuring my memory of the past and plans for the future. All I knew was that I was alone in a way I’d never been previously. My entire body felt hollow. The only solution seemed to be descending back into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

  Adena had other priorities. She flapped her wings, took to the air, circled a bit to my right but close enough for me to see her without turning my head more than a fraction.

  “I don’t care about a carcass.” That’s what I meant to say. But my face was frozen, my tongue ungainly. My words came out a mangled mess.

  Maybe the bird understood anyway. For whatever reason, she left me drifting down the river without her. Trees slipped past slowly. Clouds melted apart then morphed together. Eventually, my eyelids drooped and I returned to sleep.

  The next time Adena came in for a landing, her claws bit into the side of the kayak. Air escaped in a sibilant hiss.

 
That was probably bad. Vaguely, I accepted the fact that the kayak—already waterlogged and half-inflated—couldn’t afford to lose much more air out of its flotation chambers. The water inside was icy. The water outside would be icier yet.

  Never mind. I deserve it.

  Deserve it? Vague flutterings of memories tried to roil up inside me. I clenched my eyes shut against their intrusion. Focused on the bird who was now pecking at my cheek.

  “Adena. Get your own breakfast.”

  My words were a little steadier this time. The memories a little harder to push back into darkness. Adena took flight, and I couldn’t lull myself back to sleep.

  Instead, I remembered.

  The cave. Val. Jacob. Demon werewolves.

  Harry’s loss and Theta’s. My failure to warn Claw before he died at the teeth of a fiery hellhound.

  I jolted erect, rocking the kayak. It was too late. It was....

  A rope slapped me dead in the face.

  “GRAB THE END!”

  Suzy wasn’t a werewolf, but she could command obedience when she wanted to. My frozen fingers clutched at the braided plastic when what I really wanted was to slip beneath the icy water and let it choke me.

  Instead, I clung to my life line while Suzy and Patricia drew me in to shore. “You’re frozen!” Suzy’s fingers burned against my forehead. I jerked backwards, thinking of hellhounds and the shaman who had created them out of thin air.

  “Benjie.” I stood so fast the kayak upended beneath me. Yep, the water outside the kayak was colder than the water inside.

  I was already so frozen, though, that a little additional ice didn’t matter. The worst ice lay inside my veins.

  “Where are you going?” Patricia jogged ahead as I slopped my way out of the water. Okay, maybe she wasn’t jogging. Maybe I was limping so slowly a snail could have outpaced me. Still, I continued pressing forward, making my way up the hill toward the motel.

  Because the warmth of Suzy’s fingers had reminded me that my responsibilities were far from completed. There were students here depending on me. Students who could easily be turned into werewolves then hellhounds by a shaman whose powers were far greater than anticipated...and also much darker than I’d originally assumed.

  “Stay with her. I’m getting hot cocoa, dry clothes, and a blanket. If you need me, yell.”

  Suzy’s instructions flowed past like the river’s current. No, not like the river’s current. Warmer and kinder, although no more relevant to my purpose right now.

  Water squished inside my hiking boots. Frigid hair plastered itself against my skull. Still, I was moving faster, fueled by images of story-book villains. Would Benjie be chanting as he stirred a bubbling cauldron? Setting up disasters to lure the rest of my companions in?

  I reached the first door of the unit designated for my students and used the master key card—miraculously still in my pocket—to let myself inside it. If Benjie had already....

  Flicking on the light, I released a rush of pent-up breath. Twin lumps materialized into Madison and Madison curled beneath the covers.

  “Whoozitwhy?” one muttered, cracking open a single eyelid.

  “Get up. You’re leaving.” The words, to my surprise, were understandable. My ability to multi-task was reawakening with every step I took.

  My primary purpose, however, remained finding Benjie. So I continued down the row, waking groggy students and ruining their slumber. Emily and one of the Noahs had apparently decided to bunk together—I ignored their coiled limbs and dripped ice water on them until they awoke.

  “On the bus in ten minutes,” I ordered, heading toward the final room designated for students. After this, I’d check the upstairs area given over to the adult members of our party. Then...I had no idea what to do after that.

  “This one belongs to Benjie and the other Noah,” Patricia explained. Now she really was jogging to keep up with me.

  “He won’t be here,” I murmured, sliding the key card into the door lock. Patricia didn’t bother asking who “he” was. She’d given up on requesting explanations three doors earlier. Had started helping with the wake-ups, shaking students who were slow to open their eyes.

  “Rise and shine. Time to leave,” Patricia caroled as we entered. The space was pitch black, the light switch in a different location than it had been in the other rooms we’d entered. Without wolf eyes to aid me, I wasted several seconds stumbling over a chair before turning on the light.

  “Up, up, up!” Patricia caroled as I scanned the mess of dirty socks, open suitcases, and glowing cell phones littering the floor. I missed my wolf nose and its ability to follow a scent trail. Human, all I could do was drop to my knees and start pawing through the belongings Benjie had left behind him.

  Speak of the devil. “Is Benjie going with us?”

  I frowned. “Good luck finding him.” Patricia’s words didn’t make much sense.

  “But, Dr. Hart...he’s right here.”

  I HAD NO MONSTER INSIDE me, but I acted like one anyway. I was on the bed before Patricia finished speaking. One hand grabbed the collar of Benjie’s arrowhead-printed pajamas while the other clawed at his neck.

  “How do I stop the hellhounds?” I intended to tear the answer out of him.

  “In the van!” Patricia said behind me, ushering a confused Noah out of the room.

  “But my stuff....”

  “I’ll bring it to you.”

  The door closed, then cautious footsteps approached from behind me. Patricia’s fingers hesitated a millimeter from my body, not quite touching my skin.

  “He can’t answer if you kill him.”

  I growled and relented. Benjie inhaled a raspy roar of terror. Ignoring his theatrics, I spoke to Patricia. “Take the master keycard out of my pocket. Go to Harry’s room. Find his spare gun.”

  “Gun?”

  “Nobody will be there. Hurry.”

  I wasn’t a werewolf, but she obeyed me. As did Benjie...if you could call the jumble of words that resulted obedience.

  “He wanted to be shifted! I swear! He’s a lonely kid. He wanted a pack. And I needed to practice. So I did.”

  “Not Jacob, you idiot.” I shook Benjie with anger I’d thought was lupine. It wasn’t. As a mere human, I still had an overwhelming urge to revenge myself on this self-centered man-child.

  Still, having a wolf inside had taught me how to control my animal nature. Forcing my fingers away from Benjie’s jugular, I sat back onto my heels and drew in one deep breath then another.

  “The statue you charged yesterday.” I watched him as I spoke, gauging his guilt and understanding. “It turned Val into a hellhound. I need to know what you did to it and how to stop her now.”

  Them. How to stop them.

  I shivered, imagining five hellhounds wreaking havoc on the tourists who would even now be flocking into Yellowstone. Or perhaps the fiery pack had travelled north instead of south in order to take out one of the small towns where those tourists spent their evenings....

  “Hellhound?” Benjie was either a very good liar or he was entirely clueless. My wolf could have smelled the difference. I could not.

  This was going to require smaller sentences. “Yesterday’s statue. What did you do differently?”

  “Nothing! I mean, I wasn’t really confident. You were giving me the evil eye. I was a bit shaken. But I really thought I did it right!”

  The door opened as Benjie swore his innocence. Patricia returned to stand beside me, a heavy pistol cradled in both of her hands.

  “What do you want me to...?” she started. But I took the gun from her before she could finish. Flicked off the safety just like I’d seen on television. Rested the barrel against the side of Benjie’s nose.

  “Now tell me.”

  My hands were steady, my body cold with intention. This was monstrous—I could have laughed at my former self’s fear of a little innocent deer hunting.

  But this was also necessary. Because it jogged Benjie’s memory j
ust enough.

  “I didn’t do anything different with it,” he babbled. “But your father wanted to see it before we charged it. Said he was interested in my carving technique....”

  I left Benjie blubbering out his terror and headed upstairs.

  Chapter 31

  The sun had risen, but the awning of the entranceway returned the space to twilight. Even with human eyes, I could see a bar of light shining through the crack beneath my father’s door.

  He was awake and alert. My wolf would have suggested a surprise attack.

  But here on the second floor, the only other route for entry involved climbing up to the balcony. Ditching that complication, I used the keycard to push my way inside.

  “Justine?”

  Dad looked up from his book with reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was clad in silk pajamas that hung on his frame in a way that was entirely unflattering. The bulky armchair dwarfed his body. Was it just the light that made him appear suddenly old?

  “No, it’s me,” I answered. I didn’t bother raising the gun threateningly, and he didn’t seem to notice it. Instead, I asked, almost gently: “What did you do to Benjie’s statue yesterday?”

  “The wolf?” Dr. Hart took off his glasses, using them as a bookmark, then bent to root through a bag on the floor. I should have been afraid—was he going for a weapon? Instead, I knelt beside him, unsurprised when he came up with a field notebook in one veiny hand.

  “Did you notice the chunkiness of the animal’s body?” he asked, flipping through the pages. The one he settled on was a line drawing. Dad was old-school—he preferred to supplement his photographs with illustrations. “Almost like a dire wolf. I asked your employee what he’d based it on, but he was evasive....”

  “Dad.” I understood the appeal of a good puzzle. But I knew the answer to this one, and it wasn’t particularly helpful in the upcoming task of wrangling a hellhound. “What did you do other than draw and measure the statue?”