Wolf

by D. M. Turner

  “Good point.” Colin nuzzled her neck then straightened. One brow lifted. “You need a shower. You’ve still got blood on you.”

  She trailed the fingers of one hand up his arm. “Only if you join me.”

  “I think that could be arranged.”

  * * *

  I think I’ve finally figured some things out. Family doesn’t always stand by us, no more than friends do. Most people come and go in our lives, through death, relocations, or simply the emotional distance that sometimes comes with change and conflict. Still, the pack remains.

  I’ve got so much to learn about life as a werewolf. The next few months should prove very interesting, indeed. With a loving mate by my side, and the knowledge that God has put me here in this place, this skin, and this time for a reason, I can face anything that comes.

  … for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. - Phil. 4:11b

  Campbell Wildlife Preserve

  Somewhere outside Flagstaff, Arizona

  Tuesday, November 24, 2015

  SHE’S too sick to survive. Tanya leaned against the wall outside the laundry room at the base of the stairs to the upper floor, her stomach churning. They’d waited too long. Imelda had been so frail when she’d come in with the aid of her husband, Isaac, accompanied by Jeremy, the pack physician.

  Ian had been grim when he’d followed them into the garage, where plastic had been spread or hung on every surface. Tanya chose not to think about the need for that, or the reason for her father-in-law’s deep resignation and terrible sorrow. As pack alpha, it fell to him to cause the physical trauma that would spur the Turning. He wasn’t a violent man, and to wreak violence on a sick woman, an innocent…. Tanya’s heart ached for him as much as it did for Isaac, who would probably lose his wife that night.

  “It won’t be your fault.” Colin’s gentle voice soothed the pang deep in her soul. He came around the stairs from the main rooms of the house and wrapped strong arms around her. “None of us believe she’ll live. We don’t expect you to pull off a miracle. She’s so sick and weak. It’ll be a miracle if she survives the initial injuries.”

  “I saw the look on Ian’s face. He hates what he had to do tonight.”

  He nodded. “The responsibility he shoulders tonight is one of the main reasons I never want to be alpha of a pack. It’s too heavy a burden to ask a man to carry.”

  Hopefully the day never came that he’d have to take his father’s place in the pack. “Do their children know what’s happening?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Isaac said they know their mother has cancer, but he and Imelda decided not to tell them about this unless it succeeds.”

  “And if it fails? What will they tell them?”

  “That the cancer killed her. Jeremy will sign off on it.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “She’s such a sweet woman. Why did this happen to her?”

  Colin shrugged and sighed. “The same reason bad things happen to decent people everywhere. Sin entered the world and brought suffering, disease, and death. So simple, yet so complicated.”

  The door between the laundry room and garage opened.

  Tanya tensed and raised her head.

  Ian came through the laundry room, looking even older than Brett’s two centuries.

  “How is she?” Colin asked the question that stuck in Tanya’s throat.

  “The change has begun. Her wounds are beginning to heal. Slowly, but her body’s responding as hoped.” He laid a gentle hand on Tanya’s shoulder. “Do what you can, and leave the rest in God’s hands.”

  She nodded. “How long until the moon rises?”

  Ian glanced at his watch. “About fifteen minutes.”

  “We probably shouldn’t have cut it so close.” She frowned. Too late to worry about that now. It couldn’t be helped. “When Donna made her first Shift, I had fed her enough to almost completely heal her wounds. She didn’t have to Shift with them like I did. Imelda won’t heal in time, and she was already weak. So many things working against us….”

  “Do the best you can. That’s all you can do. The rest is up to Imelda and the Lord.”

  Tanya took a deep breath and headed for the garage. Colin stayed with her, a hand at the small of her back. The moment he reached around her and opened the door, the scent of blood assaulted her nose. Her footsteps faltered, but she forced them to keep moving.

  Imelda came into view, lying on a pallet of blankets covered with plastic on the concrete floor.

  Tanya swallowed hard.

  The wounds Ian had inflicted gaped across the woman’s abdomen, exposing tissue that should never see the light of day.

  Her chest tightening, Tanya turned away and fought for breath.

  “Easy. Slow, deep breaths.” Colin’s gentle voice crooned softly. His arms closed around her, hugging her from the side. He pressed his face against the side of her head.

  Tears pricked her eyes, and she put a hand over her mouth and swallowed against the need to throw up. She clung to his arm and leaned against him, afraid she’d fall to her knees if she let go or tried to remain upright under her own power. Each gasping breath pulled his scent deeper into her lungs, bringing as much comfort as his touch. Panic faded, and her lungs began to work properly.

  “Alright?” he murmured in her ear.

  “I think so.” She turned her head enough to meet his gaze. “She looks worse than I imagined she would. I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

  “It’s okay.” He kissed her temple.

  Tanya took a long, deep breath and straightened. “I’m alright.”

  Colin studied her for a moment then released her, keeping a hand on one of her arms as she turned to face the thing she least wanted to.

  Isaac knelt beside his downed wife, cupping her hand in one of his and pressing it to his face. The agonized sorrow blended with hope on his face was too much for Tanya to take yet.

  She looked away.

  A scan of the room revealed that the whole pack had come, including eleven-year-old Tommy, whose young face bore grim sorrow. Tanya could only imagine what memories had been churned up for the boy, given the violence of his own Turning. Her attacker had intended to Turn her. His meant to kill him, had even thrown his body into a dumpster.

  The eyes of every member of the pack rested on her, making her even more aware of the hope they had in what she could do. She had no magic. No real answers. Only what had worked for Tommy and Donna. Oh, God, what do I do? How do I help her?

  You know the answer. Think of Tommy and Donna. How you helped them.

  But they were different. They hadn’t been in as weakened and sickly a state as Imelda. Their wounds had been healed, or mostly so, before they’d made their first Shift.

  No, if they asked Imelda to Shift too soon, she’d die. Certainty pulsed through Tanya’s veins. She had to convince them to wait until the next evening. Give Imelda’s body time to heal before the first Shift.

  Tanya backed away. “No. We should wait until tomorrow before the full moon’s rise.” She turned to Colin. “If she has more time for her body to heal…. She’s too weak. If we ask her to Shift tonight, she’ll die. I can’t do that. I can’t.”

  “Tanya?” Imelda’s soft voice drew her gaze.

  She moved forward and knelt beside the woman, lightly touching her cheek. “I’m here.”

  “We know the risks.”

  “I know.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “But we can’t ask you to do this. Not tonight. You need rest and time to heal before you attempt the Shift, or it’ll kill you. You’re too weak to survive.”

  Isaac frowned. “But, you said the first Shift occurring at the full moon would be more difficult.”

  “I know, but the full moon is strong enough that the Shift can be called before it rises. That’s what Donna did. She made the first Shift before the full moon rose.” She reached over and covered his hand grasping his wife’s. “Donn
a and Tommy’s attack wounds were either completely or mostly healed before their first Shift. They weren’t in this severely weakened state. Tommy was attacked and Turned about twenty-four hours before his first Shift. We need to give Imelda time to heal. Give her the best chance possible to survive. I know you want that, too.”

  Isaac glanced up and beyond her.

  She followed his gaze to Ian. “Please… give her time.”

  The alpha stood still and silent for long moments then nodded.

  “Isaac?” a weak voice said.

  He refocused his attention on his wife and smiled. “We’ll wait until tomorrow. Let your body heal before you try to Shift. Okay?”

  “I can’t.” Tears filled her eyes. “I feel myself getting weaker instead of stronger.”

  Tanya forced her gaze to the woman’s wounds. “Ian? The wounds are—” What? She wasn’t sure what to say.

  Ian knelt at her side to examine Imelda’s injuries. “They’re no longer healing. She’s bleeding again.” The despair in his eyes relayed all that needed to be said.

  Tears surged harder, flowing over Tanya’s cheeks, and she returned her gaze to Imelda’s pale face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We knew it probably wouldn’t work.” A soft smile touched the woman’s face. “A very slim chance was better than none, and I have no regrets. You shouldn’t either.” She reached past Tanya for Ian’s hand. “Take care of Isaac. He’ll need the pack more than ever.”

  He nodded. “We will.”

  Minutes later, Imelda grew still.

  Isaac’s grief-stricken howl ripped through the garage, made even worse coming from a human throat than it would’ve sounded from a wolf. The pack joined in.

  Unable to stand the weight of grief in the room, Tanya climbed to her feet and retreated to the laundry room. She hadn’t realized Colin followed her until his arms slipped around her and pulled her back against his chest. She leaned against him, allowing him to hold her upright. “Why did this happen? She should’ve healed.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the cancer was too advanced? Maybe it was the type of cancer she had? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows why the wolf heals some things and not others.”

  “Without some sort of records, how can we know what works and what doesn’t? If we have to rely on the memory of those who live, and that knowledge dies with them, how do we ever make things better?”

  “I wish I knew what to tell you. Things are as they have always been as far as I know.”

  Small comfort at best.

  The door to the garage opened. Ian filled the doorway. “Colin, we could use your help.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He released her slowly, carefully, as though he expected her to crumble. Gentle hands gripped her upper arms and turned her to face him. “I have to help with Imelda’s body. Will you be alright?”

  She nodded. “I’m going upstairs.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He turned to go.

  “Colin?”

  Hand on the door, he glanced back.

  “What will you do with the body?”

  He sighed with a soft, sorrow-filled smile. “We have an incinerator on the premises. We generally use it for diseased animals we find on the Preserve. We’ll cremate her and scatter her ashes where Isaac deems appropriate.”

  “Oh.” Tanya nodded.

  After the door closed between them, she plodded up the stairs and into their bedroom and dropped onto the edge of the bed. Even with rooms between them, the pack’s grief suffused the space. Her gaze fell on the desk under the front windows. She got to her feet, went to plop into the chair, and picked up the pen lying there.

  How do you say goodbye to a friend you barely knew? She was among the first to welcome me to the pack, quietly, unobtrusively. She unpacked my things as I tried to hide from grief and hurt, made me a part of the pack before I even knew what pack was. One day, perhaps, I will write her story. For now, it’s too painful. She died seeking hope.

  As Tanya studied what she’d written, she noticed blood on her hand. Imelda’s blood. She dropped the pen and tried to wipe it away, but it had already dried. She retreated to the bathroom attached to the bedroom and washed her hands. When the water ran clear, she leaned wet hands on the counter and glanced into the mirror.

  Weary, sad eyes stared back. Tears glistened. She couldn’t look into them anymore and lowered her gaze. Only to realize there was blood on her jeans, and more on her shirt where she must’ve touched it.

  Stripped of her clothes, she climbed into the shower and allowed the water to wash over her. Tears poured in earnest, bringing sobs that threatened to tear her body apart. She slid down the wall, sat on the tiled floor of the shower, and let them come unhindered.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when a shift in the air currents and temperature followed the opening of the shower door. Then Colin was there, sitting beside her, holding her.

  When Tanya couldn’t cry anymore and had fallen quiet, Colin shut off the water, got out, and returned with a towel. He helped her dry off, dried himself, and then carried her to their bed. Stretched out beside her, he pulled the covers over them both and wrapped his arms around her again.

  She inhaled his familiar scent and let weariness take her.

  * * *

  Wednesday, November 25, 2015

  “How’s Tanya?”

  Colin glanced up from the coffee in the cup in front of him to his father, who padded into the kitchen on bare feet looking like he hadn’t slept. “Still sleeping. She had a rough night.” He looked back into the dark liquid growing cold in the cup. “I think we’re back where we started. Every time she woke up during the night, she cried.”

  “Hopefully that’s a good sign. If she’s crying, at least she’s letting the grief out.” Dad poured a cup of coffee then retrieved heavy cream from the fridge. “It’s probably a good thing her brother’s coming tomorrow, though. She’ll need that.”

  As much as Colin wanted to think at times that he was all she needed, he knew his dad was right. Tanya needed her family, and not just her brother and sisters. She needed her parents. She’d finally accepted the wolf and all that meant. With that acceptance, her appetite had stabilized, so she’d finally begun to gain weight. Her weight still wasn’t healthy, but it had improved and continued to do so.

  Despite what she’d said a couple of times in the past month or so, she still grieved the rejection of her parents. She’d accepted that they were no longer part of her life, and might never be, but the hurt hadn’t subsided. Seeing Isaac lose Imelda, knowing they had children who would grieve their mother, how would the previous night’s events compound lingering grief over her own parents?

  “I’m going out for a while.” Colin pushed away from the stool at the breakfast bar.

  “For a run?”

  “A drive.”

  Dad’s brows shot up. “Since when do you find driving cathartic?”

  “I don’t.” Without further explanation, he headed for the door, grabbing the keys for his father’s SUV off the table in the foyer. With snow and ice on the roads, he might need the four-wheel drive. If there was one thing he hated more than driving, it was driving on bad roads. A car accident might not kill him, and he’d survive most injuries, but that didn’t mean those injuries wouldn’t hurt.

  Sometimes a man just had to take action, do what was right, no matter what he had to face in the process.

  “Don’t forget your coat!”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his dad’s reminder. He’d heard the same reminder every day of every winter as far back as he could recall. His father seemed to forget he was all grown up and didn’t need to be mothered still. Like Brett constantly calling him “Pup”. It was what it was, and no amount of fussing would change it.

  * * *

  Colin knocked on the door and waited for it to open, restraining the urge to pace the porch like a caged animal. Tanya probably wouldn’t be happy with him, b
ut some things didn’t get better with the hands-off, “keep your distance” approach. If her mother would speak to him, that is. The longer he stood there, the more doubt grew. After what he’d said the last time they’d seen each other, he wouldn’t blame her if she chose not to open the door.

  Just as he’d decided to turn around and go, the lock on the door clicked, and it opened a few inches.

  Mrs. Sikes peered out at him, her expression wary. Recognition flashed, and the door opened a bit further. “Colin?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I wondered if I might have a word with you.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “Please. It’s important. I’m worried about Tanya.”

  Concern filled her eyes. She nodded and stepped back, taking the door with her. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.” He crossed the threshold and stepped out of the way for her to close the door.

  She motioned him into the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Mrs. Sikes perched on the edge of the couch, her gaze steady on him. A hint of moisture suggested she was already near tears.

  He smiled self-consciously. “Tanya’d be angry if she knew I was here, but I need to talk to you. She’s… not doing well, and my father and I have reason to believe her life is at risk.”

  A faint gasp slipped out, and her eyes widened. “Is she ill?”

  “Not in the sense you probably mean.” Colin settled in the chair at one end of the couch and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “As werewolves, we aren’t prone to illness the way regular humans are. We have other… vulnerabilities, which is why I’m here. We’ve nearly lost Tanya twice since June. She was almost killed last month. A case of mistaken identity. The only reason she survived is because she finally embraced the wolf.”

  “I don’t… understand. Why are you concerned, if she’s… ‘embraced’ what she is?”

  “She’s struggled with so much grief since her Turning. Carried so much sorrow over what happened, the life she lost, the changes she had no say in. We weren’t sure she’d survive.” He sighed. “You have to understand, grief is one of our worst enemies. Grief… destroys us. We lose our will to live if it’s strong enough.”