Moon Dancer

by Aimee Easterling

  So I corralled Jacob and Patricia. Pulled on my professorial persona with an effort—tough to do when none of us wore clothes and I’d ditched my lanyard.

  Only then did I share the wisdom they needed to consider before making an informed decision.

  “This is your chance to stop being werewolves,” I told the two of them. “I understand how right shifting feels at the moment. But you can’t go back to your normal lives if you hold onto your wolves.”

  Inside my belly, my own wolf whimpered. I dropped one hand to soothe her. Not you, I promised. Never you. I won’t be that stupid again.

  And neither, apparently, would my students. “We’ll make do.” Patricia spoke for herself and Jacob as well. “If you’ll have us...?”

  She looked at me, not Claw, in search of reassurance. But he was the alpha.

  Will you...? I asked, silent words flowing between us as easily as breathing. His snort of amusement was my only reply.

  Of course he would. He’d claimed both students as pack already.

  Still, Patricia couldn’t make the decision for everyone. “Jacob, I want you to think long and hard about what you’re giving up here....”

  He started explaining before I finished my sentence. “Do you know what it’s like to be a foster kid who stims by drumming? The first family I lived with said I was annoying. The second went for ‘creepy.’ After a while, I decided I was better off living in a group home.”

  My wolf shivered. No pack? Lonely.

  I agreed. One-armed, we reached out to pull Jacob closer. Patricia finished the group hug, managing to rub skin with both of us at once.

  “No one will miss me,” Jacob promised, voice muffled and fingers thumping against my shoulder blades. “I’ll try to be quiet.”

  “We would miss you,” I countered. “Drum all you want.”

  WE WERE TRIUMPHANT...but exhausted. Cold seeped into our bones and dragged at our muscles. If you didn’t count the time I’d spent unconscious, I hadn’t slept in...I had no idea how long.

  “We have to”—my jaw cracked as I yawned—“decide if we’re going to call the police to hunt Justine.”

  In the dim glow of a flashlight, the empty niches in the stone walls gaped like missing teeth.

  “Let me pull some strings,” Harry suggested. “If we find her now, it will be in the cyber world.”

  “Okay.” I glanced one last time at my university ID, nearly lost in the shadows. Then I gathered students and pack mates around me. “Let’s go.”

  We walked out together, leaving charred wolves and a nearly empty sacred place behind us. It was a devastation of thousands of years of Bearclaw spirituality. And yet...Sam was ecstatic when we reached the elevator and asked to be drawn back up.

  “You made it.” He looked us over, taking in the soot, the bags beneath our eyes, our near-universal nakedness.

  At last, his gaze settled on Benjie, the sole clothed member of our party. Sam cocked his head, then drifted closer to his childhood friend.

  “Here.”

  There was something small and round in Sam’s hand. His ring. The band of woven fibers I’d first seen on his grandfather.

  A symbol of a spiritual office perhaps?

  “I can’t take that.” Benjie understood what he was being granted.

  “It’s not a gift. It’s a burden.” Sam gestured at the gaping hole behind us. “Do you really think I’m the right caretaker? Grandad asked for help and I built him an elevator. I have a feeling you’ll do a better job.”

  Sam’s admission was more powerful than a website review. The door he’d opened was ten times better than any work we could have drummed up for Benjie as a freelancer.

  A few days ago, I would have scoffed at Benjie’s ability to step into shoes like these. But now I nudged him in the proper direction.

  “Take the ring,” I told Benjie.

  I could feel the power as he accepted.

  Chapter 36

  We collapsed in a heap back at the motel. A mass of wolves, some two-legged but most four-legged. No wonder we slept through the night and most of the next morning.

  When I woke to a growling stomach, light seeped in around the edges of drawn window blinds. I didn’t want to bother my pack mates, but my brain was running a mile a minute. There were loose ends I hadn’t yet dealt with. A metaphorical sacrifice I needed to turn into a reality.

  I crept to my room, found my cell phone, turned it on.

  So many missed calls and so few I wanted to answer. Three from my department head. Five from my father. One from Suzy. I clicked her picture and returned the call.

  “Did you make it back safely?” I started, forgetting the greeting. This was a wolf thing, I realized. An impoliteness that had bugged me when coming from Harry and Theta...and now I was doing it as well.

  Suzy didn’t seem to notice. “I did. We did. But Olivia, Dr. Sanora is furious that you haven’t been checking in....”

  I breathed out through my nose. I’d forgotten such simple things as days of the week and teaching responsibilities. It was just as well I’d already made my choice.

  “I’m not coming back, Suzy. Patricia turned into a werewolf just because she was close to me. I can’t risk that happening to other students.”

  Okay, so Patricia had touched the charged statue. But there’d been no ceremony, no obvious intention. Jacob’s shift was almost as easy. It appeared I attracted people with hidden wolf natures and catalyzed Changes whether they wanted it or not.

  “Maybe if....” Suzy caught herself. There was no solution to this problem, not if we cared about our students.

  “Hey, it’s not so bad,” I reassured her. “I’ve gained more than I lost.”

  It was true. Just the thought of the pack across the hall warmed me.

  Suzy, on the other hand, had lost more than she gained. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Me too. I’ll come visit.” Or at least I’d try to. Pack territories would make traveling difficult. I was almost glad to be interrupted by the beep of my phone.

  “Look, someone’s trying to call me....”

  “Stay safe,” Suzy answered. She didn’t linger.

  She rather than I disconnected the call.

  MY FATHER’S RINGTONE was Darth Vader’s theme song. I hesitated, unwilling to answer. My insides felt raw from so much change and loss.

  But we’d shared that moment back in the motel room. I’d recognized his mortality. He’d answered my questions. Maybe our relationship would be different now?

  “Dad,” I answered. And that was the only word I was given space for. Because Dr. Hart was on the rampage.

  “You helped her. You little shit. After all I’ve done for you, you told that money-grubbing bitch how to clean me out.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but the picture gradually grew clearer in between expletives and insults. My father had returned home to find his mansion ransacked. Well, not the whole house. Just his treasure room in the hidden downstairs.

  And he blamed me. His reasoning was convoluted, but it came down to one thing—I was the only other person who knew about the entrance. Well, I’d also come to ask him about Justine in his motel room yesterday—or was that the day before yesterday? Clearly, the two of us were in cahoots.

  “Dad, I didn’t....”

  “Don’t talk. Listen.” His barked order was so lupine that I shivered. Is this what I would have turned into after a few more decades of hiding from my wolf?

  I reached out for my animal self, hoping for support. But my father’s words had sent her scurrying for cover. So I was alone when he reached the culmination of his speech.

  “You are a mistake and a disappointment. You always have been; you always will be. But you will fix this. You’ll find my artifacts and bring them back....”

  And I grew a spine. Belatedly—decades after I should have. Still, it’s the eventual success not the timeline that counts.

  “Maybe you should call the police.”
/>   He growled like a furious werewolf, then spat out words I didn’t need. “You know I can’t do that.”

  I did know. The artifacts in question weren’t stolen, but they weren’t precisely legit either. I’d been telling him that for years and years.

  So there was no point in repeating my admonition another time. Instead, I ignored Dr. Hart’s roars of frustration and powered my phone all the way down.

  “SO WHAT NOW?” CLAW’S voice trickled in from the hallway. Like a wise alpha, he had my back, but he hadn’t intruded upon my battles.

  Or maybe he was keeping his distance because of my skittishness over the last few months. My unwillingness to come close for fear any contact would ossify my lupine attachment.

  If so, I’d had enough of that bullshit. I’d been an idiot, but even idiocy had an end.

  My wolf yanked open the door and I let her. Our fingers closed over his biceps, drawing us together. The heat of contact sizzled our shared skin.

  Words, words. Yes, I had some of those if I could remember to use them. I cleared my throat, managed to speak like a human.

  “You have gigs waiting, right? Private-security details that you put off so you could be close by if I need you?”

  “Sure...?” Claw raised one eyebrow.

  “So, some of those jobs must be in places safe enough for newly Changed shifters to learn how to be four-legged.”

  “You mean our two?” Claw’s eyes slitted ever so slightly as he smiled without smiling. Just talking about Changed pups pleased his lupine self.

  I hoped the rest of my plan would prove equally satisfactory.

  “Yes, them...and others.” I’d gotten the idea while talking to my father. For once, Dad’s out-of-control anger had served a constructive purpose.

  Because Dr. Hart couldn’t be the only one whose lack of a wolf had bent him. What about the cave girl’s other descendants? There must be hundreds of us, thousands maybe. I couldn’t find all of them...but I’d do what I could.

  “If this week’s haul is any indication, humans with wolves inside seem drawn to me,” I started. And Claw finished my thought as if he shared space inside my head.

  “The rest of the pack can act as go-betweens, determine who’s ready to be Changed and who needs to wait.”

  He nudged me forward until we stood beside the window. Here in daylight, his eyes were hungry as they brushed over me. Like and at the same time unlike the sensation of being seen by not-Claw.

  “We’ll Change the ones who want it, then check on the ones who refuse it.” I turned my face up to the warmth above me. The sun, of course, but also Claw.

  Over his shoulder, a raven dipped a wing through streaming photons. Adena swerved into a barrel roll...right across the body of another soaring raven. He—I somehow knew the newcomer was a male—mimicked her playfully. One last croak, then they were gone.

  Adena had found her family, and I’d found mine also. We’d plan later.

  “Kiss me,” I ordered.

  And Claw did.

  Epilogue

  The hot French sun beat down on my fur as I romped with the pups. There were half a dozen of them including four no-longer-strangers who had Changed within the last week.

  Apparently my ability to draw wolves out of receptive humans occurred only around the equinoxes. Which was a relief, in a way, since it gave me time in between to scratch other important itches.

  Like archaeology. Pack. Friendship. I sidled up to Val, hoping the wall she’d built between us since our failed wolf transfer might be disintegrating. Over the last six months, her bubbly personality had gradually reasserted itself. Last week, she’d start running with the pack while they were in wolf form. But she continued to avoid me as if I stunk of wet dog...

  ...or as if I was likely to Change her by coming too close.

  Now, though, her fingers drifted down to my ears, stroking absent circles in the soft fur between them. This was what we’d been missing. This was....

  Glancing down at last, Val saw who she was petting...and jumped sideways as if she’d been bitten.

  “I left something in the oven....”

  She was gone before I completed my shift back to humanity. Heat that had felt good a moment earlier now burned my cheeks. My wolf whined between human lips.

  “She’ll come around.” A tall, broad shadow cooled my sadness. Claw nudged me sideways so I wouldn’t have to stare into the sun in order to meet his eyes. His fingers found the tension at the base of my skull and rubbed it loose.

  “The pack can run today without me,” I said finally. No need for Val to miss something she loved, even if she did have to sprint to keep up with hunting werewolves.

  Or, I should say, I’d been told she loved it. Whenever I was present, Val always had dishes in need of washing or notes to write up. No time to frolic with the pack.

  I’d hoped today might be different. We’d all eaten lunch in a cafe together, our waiter the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He’d been so intent upon me that he’d forgotten to top up anyone else’s water. At the end, he’d written his name and number on the receipt.

  “Better be careful, bro,” Val had laughed, even though this was obviously just another wannabe-werewolf drawn to my aura. “You have competition.”

  “Maybe I should call him,” Claw growled. He was only teasing. He added on a massive tip then slipped me the customer receipt.

  “And scare him off?” Val met my eyes for one split second, her smile not quite fading. “Olivia is way cuter.”

  For one moment, we’d been united by girlish good humor. Val’s eyes hadn’t shuttered when she looked at me. She hadn’t found a reason to sit on the opposite end of the table for fear our hands might brush.

  Now, I watched her shadow slide back and forth along the wall of the living room. She wasn’t in the kitchen. She was pacing like a penned-up werewolf.

  “You’ll go get her?” I asked Claw. It wasn’t so bad to dig rather than run, I told myself. I’d been so close to a break-through at our current site....

  “I’ll go get her,” Claw promised.

  And I dismissed my sadness. I trusted my mate to heal our pack.

  ON HUMAN FEET, I WALKED uphill between scrub trees until two rocky hillsides V’ed together. Flags and pits dotted the landscape. I called this a dig, but it wasn’t really. Just test holes placed at random intervals. Not on a grid. Wherever my belly told me to look.

  The site was funded—surprisingly enough—by the Bearclaw people. Justine had never reappeared, but her money trail had been easy to follow for an astute digital tracker. And now that he no longer worked for the President, Harry saw no reason not to skim off cash that had been stolen once before.

  We donated all of it to Sam, to help his relatives. He, in turn, invested the lump sum, channeled most of the interest toward boosting his people’s standard of living, then donated some back to me.

  “To look into the past,” he explained when I called to reject the endowment. “Grandad would have wanted that.”

  I found myself accepting the generous offer rather than giving it back.

  And the site that resulted had been good for more than archaeology. It kept younger pack mates busy while Claw and his security team were absent on freelance gigs. It gave them purpose, a place to grow into their own unique talents.

  Plus, there was enough wiggle room in our budget now to fly Suzy out to join us. She knew about werewolves, so there was no need to hide while she was around.

  Wolf and human, we dug and played and grew together. And in the midst of all this, we’d disinterred small marvels. Obsidian blades. Charred fibers.

  Still, instinct told me there was much more here to be found.

  There was seldom time to look for it, however. Not when two Changed werewolves—now six—needed one-on-one attention. Everyone pitched in, but more often than not the responsibility fell to me.

  So I took advantage of my current lone-wolf status to wander aimlessly. My wolf rose to jo
in me, our nostrils flaring as scents deepened. The hillside to the west drew us, and not just because it blocked the blazing sunlight.

  We scrambled up past boulders and outcrops. Midway to the top, my wolf murmured, Stop.

  I froze, scanning the horizon. Was our pack in danger? Had the European clans—formerly so lax about boundaries—decided to oust us from their territory?

  My wolf snorted in my belly. She grabbed my skin, twisting us lupine. We fell to four paws, trotting forward to a boulder blocking a crevice too small to let a human pass.

  Even lupine, the squeeze was tight. But something drew me onward. Distant drumbeats. Not quite chanting. A language I hadn’t heard spoken since the cave girl excised her daughter’s wolf.

  It was dim but not pitch black here. Sun filtered in through a hidden skylight. The tunnel widened, grew taller. My wolf pushed me out of her so I knelt on sharp pebbles with human knees.

  Because she could see better in the darkness, but I was the one able to make out colors. The drawings on the walls were rusty yet brilliant. Strokes of ochre outlined wolf backs. Red surrounded a hand imprint.

  I raised my arm, unable to resist measuring. My fingers slid into the white space between painted outlines. My thumb jutted outward, perfectly matching the bent-back painted hitchhiker’s thumb.

  They survived. I’d known scientifically that the cave girl’s pup, at least, must have lived long enough to bear children. Otherwise, there would be no humans in need of Changing.

  But with both mother and daughter’s wolves absent, no further visions had called to me. Late at night, I’d wondered if the prehistoric family’s existence had all been a dream.

  Now, I turned in breathless wonder as I took in a painted masterpiece. Like the ruined cavern last winter these walls were covered in lifelike animals.

  But these weren’t prey. They were predators. Wolves, wolves, all beautiful wolves.