- Home
- Aimee Easterling
Moon Dancer Page 11
Moon Dancer Read online
Page 11
Harry barked. The trio of youngsters spun to face him. The gray, more mature, didn’t pause but instead surged forward until her hot breath was level with my hip.
Then my wolf tumbled sideways, a controlled tailspin. The world rotated around us. Would Harry’s ploy work?
Sure enough, the gray barreled into the youngsters like a well-aimed bowling ball.
Retreat! Claw’s command struck me in the belly.
Jacob, I tried to counter.
But my wolf was having none of it. Rising and running, she fled back the way she’d come.
AN ARM REACHED OUT to grab me as I sprinted past a bare cliff face. Human fingers. I was so puzzled I didn’t think to fight back.
“Shift.” Harry’s face was distorted by proximity. When I didn’t obey immediately, he sent his command down the tether that twined between us. “Shift.”
His order struck me like a slap to the face.
“Ow! Okay!” My skin tingled with the speed of my transformation. For one split second, I realized how hefty the tethers had grown between us. This was going to be a problem in the future....
For now, though, I just craned my neck and was relieved to see the tourists’ view had been cut off by the cliff face. The barrier kept them from seeing our shift, but it wouldn’t keep out a wolf pack.
As if understanding my thoughts before they fully coalesced in my brain, Harry said: “In here,” then retreated into a shadow the lowering sun had turned pitch black.
Even with wolf-assisted eyes, the darkness was impenetrable. I ran my fingers along the rock face to keep me on track as I crept into the sheltered cavern.
Only it wasn’t a cavern. Five feet in, the space brightened into a roofless opening. I peered up, noted the first star emerging from a purpling sky.
The moon would rise at any minute. I winced, remembering the entire day lost to my first full moon as a newly Changed werewolf. Since then, I’d made progress. As long as I wore out my wolf beforehand and went into the full moon two-legged, my wolf should let me stay moderately sane.
Jacob, in contrast, had no such training. He’d lose it the instant the moon rose in the sky.
Still, moon blindness was as irrelevant as future tether problems when two wolves dove through the opening. Claw’s ear was ripped and his cheek was bloody, but Jacob was ten times worse off.
MY STUDENT WAS BATTERED all over, but most of the blood seemed to flow out of a long gash along his right side. Or so I guessed from the bloody rivulet matting fur below his shoulder. He dropped to his belly and whimpered, legs paddling against nothing. The whole time, his eyes remained firmly shut.
The sight of my student in such pain ripped a hole in my calm as I tore through Harry’s satchel. Emergency blanket. First-aid kit full of band-aids. Jacob needed serious medical assistance and our gear wasn’t up to the task.
“Shh, quiet,” I told Jacob, pressing my hand against the largest wound while I racked my brain for other solutions. Blood slowed to an ooze as I applied pressure, then began spurting again when the young wolf wriggled out of my grasp.
A shrill bark rose from behind me. Another. A howl wound through the gap leading outside.
Wild wolves were trying to follow us through the crack in the cliff face. Harry was busy. Claw was lupine. This problem was mine to solve.
Then Claw was human and helping. I heard more than saw the foil blanket unfolding. “He needs to stay warm,” Claw explained. “Take his head.”
I wasn’t so sure I could get Jacob to stay still, let alone lift him. But the instant Claw’s hand touched his hindquarters, Jacob stopped wriggling. He whimpered but didn’t struggle as we worked together to slide him onto the thin foil sheet.
My fingers grazed the wound I’d pressed against a moment earlier. It was damp but no blood was currently flowing. At least Jacob wouldn’t bleed out.
Good. Now I could look for the real fix. Turning away, I started rooting through the satchel that had fallen from Claw’s back when he shifted. Where is it? I thumbed past another emergency blanket, two pairs of socks, several packets of freeze-dried rations. But the item I hunted eluded my grasp.
It was now too dark to see as another round of wolf bluster emerged from the crack behind us. “Harry, need help?” Claw asked, voice raised only slightly. He didn’t look over his shoulder, his attention remaining fixed on the shivering wolf.
Every time Claw stroked his fur, Jacob’s whimpers eased. Claw hummed and Jacob quieted. The pack bonds strengthened; I could feel them grow.
Which would have been good...if we weren’t trying to drag Jacob back to humanity before the full moon consolidated his Change.
“No.” Harry’s answer came when I’d almost forgotten the question. The growling of nearby wolves grew muffled as if they’d retreated to the outside of the crack. Right. Claw asked if he needed any help.
Jacob was the one who needed help. I dug deeper, wishing I had a flashlight. The wounded youngster was already starting to mewl another round of pained whimpers. I had a feeling his unease this time had less to do with pain and more with the rising of the moon....
Then a familiar tingle of warmth slid up the side of my thumb, falling into my palm as if it had been drawn there. The wolf statue. My index finger brushed over pointy ears as I drew the carved stone out of Claw’s backpack.
“I need access to his face,” I said, angling in closer to the wolf-and-man huddle. It was too dark to see specifics, but my fingers slid easily into Jacob’s fur just beneath his chin.
Claw’s free hand landed on my knee unerringly. A brush of moving air—he’d nodded.
“Let me get this in his mouth first...” I started, then winced as Claw knocked the statue out of my hand.
Chapter 23
“What are you doing?” I demanded, scrambling after the statue.
Rock rang on rock. If the soapstone broke, Jacob’s shift might become permanent....
“What are you doing?” Claw’s breath on the back of my neck made me flinch and twist sideways even as the electricity of skin-on-stone contact bit into my palm.
My fingers curled around the statue. It wasn’t broken. Or, if it was, no magic had escaped in the process. I would have breathed a sigh of relief if Claw’s hand hadn’t settled, heavy and immovable, over mine.
Along with his hand came a change to the pack tethers. A tightening, restraining me. I wasn’t being strangled like when my wolf and I had fought previously. But there was no way I could finish the task I’d begun.
Meanwhile, Claw’s explanation, when it came, left a lot to be desired. “Jacob might not want to lose his wolf. We won’t take it away until we can ask him.”
I wriggled sideways, uncomfortable with the strange weight of the pack bond. This was something we should discuss. This was...
...irrelevant as the first sliver of moon—unseen but tangible—crested the distant horizon.
Which is when Jacob started howling. Not a pack locational indicator. Instead, his song was a moan of confusion. Human, lupine, werewolf. He was lost somewhere in the tangle of identity, his state worsened by the rising moon.
“Do you want Jacob to lose himself in that?” I demanded, wrenching my hand away from Claw’s with so much force my fist thudded into my own midsection. “He doesn’t understand the repercussions. We need to make this decision for him and we need to make it fast.”
After all, that was what it meant to be a teacher. Putting the well-being of my students first even when they tried to wander into danger. It was what I’d built my life around. It was the protection I’d craved when I was young.
The rebuttal came not from Claw but from the werewolf standing guard behind us. “Like I made your decision for you after the crash?”
I couldn’t believe Harry was arguing free will with me. Not when he himself had thrust alpha commandment into his voice only a few minutes earlier, forcing me to shift into my human skin.
“Do you wish you’d never Changed?” This was Claw. Quieter. Tho
ughtful.
Was I sorry to have spent the last three months battling my inner monster? Not given the alternative.
In my belly, my wolf whimpered. Every day wasn’t a battle. We played, we ran, we hunted. We had fun.
She was right, but that was irrelevant. “Jacob won’t die if we take his wolf away,” I said firmly. “I’m making this decision for him.”
I straightened, expecting Claw to stop me. Instead, he was a mountain of darkness as I leaned over Jacob...and was sucked under by the pull of the moon.
NO, NOT THE MOON. A vision.
Huge hands cupped me. Darkness surrounded me. I was furry, tiny. A pup with eyelids sealed firmly shut.
Beneath our rump, our mother’s body swayed with rhythmic motion. Our belly was full. We were protected and warm.
We should have been contented. But the knotted tether chaffed, bulged with irritation. Struggling against biology, we opened our eyes for the very first time.
Sun on snow was blinding. Retreating, we nestled our nose into the crook of our mother’s arm.
And as if she’d been waiting for this moment, the cave girl stopped walking. A stone wolf nudged against our gums, seeking entry. The statue was electric with potential. This was the moment of truth.
The pup refused to unclench her teeth. But I was inside her. Open, I murmured.
She obeyed. Let the cold, hard wrongness of the statue press against our ridged palate. When we closed our mouth back up, the wolf’s ears bit into our tongue.
Now wait, I whispered as the cave girl chanted. The pup’s mother was mustering magic. She was protecting her daughter’s future. She was...
...giving up as the pup whined. Wrinkled her nose. Spat the statue right back out.
The scent of disappointment was bitter, but the cave girl shrugged off her failure. Slipping the statue back into a pouch, she drew fur up over us until only our head poked out from underneath.
A different sort of rustle. Crisper, interesting. We craned our neck to see the curl of bark our mother drew out of another pouch.
Charcoal lines scratched across the surface. Subtly familiar, although I didn’t know how they could be. Was this writing? From tens of thousands of years earlier?
My archaeological brain snapped to attention. No, not writing. Drawing. A map. Leading to the sacred place?
Of course. Even a charged statue wasn’t enough to rip an unwilling wolf from its host body. The cave girl had tried, but this was her backup plan. Together, we peered at the map.
That notched triangle on the bark resembled the oddly shaped mountain before us. The squiggle beside it had to be a river. Were those dots scree slopes? The slashes groves of trees?
There was no scale, but the path ahead seemed overwhelming for a new mother. Still, the cave girl wasn’t daunted. Cooing a quiet song to her infant, she once again started walking.
The pup’s eyes drooped, and this time I lost my grasp on the past.
I WOKE TO A CONFUSION of pack tethers. They pulled me up so firmly I forgot for a moment my own purpose.
“She’s awake.”
“Good. Let’s get moving.”
I was lupine. I was walking. Still dazed by the past, I let myself be swept up by the pack.
Claw and Harry were human and purposeful as they guided us through the crack and out into the night. Jacob vibrated with furry energy only barely dampened by a borrowed backpack.
At least Jacob didn’t appear to be hurting any longer. The question was, would he stay healthy as we passed through a wild landscape full of danger both inanimate and boasting claws and teeth?
To make matters worse, my wolf had stolen not only my body but also our momentum. Jacob tried to make a break for higher ground and she nipped at his hindquarters. Stay close, she ordered.
He was too lupine to use words in answer. But the feelings he broadcast could be summed up as: Yes, ma’am.
Claw, on the other hand, was two-legged rational. “Talking would be good. Let the wild wolves know we’re human,” he said from the tail end of our procession. He was struggling to keep his legs from breaking through the surface. Before us, Harry was keeping his steps small in a similar effort of will.
“What should we talk about?” Harry said after a moment of intense focus.
“How about your intentions toward my sister?”
Claw’s words were enough to make Harry slip. The snow crust creaked but held beneath him. In synchrony, they took another step.
Then Jacob smelled something we’d all missed. Whirled. Growled.
“They’re coming.” That was Harry. He picked up the pace...and lost his caution. One leg fell through the crust, the other joining it as he lodged himself hip-deep in a snowdrift.
The heartbeat of the pack sped up. Jacob whimpered. I grabbed his ruff with my teeth so he couldn’t break into a run.
“Take it easy.” Claw skirted around us, slow and steady. Grabbed Harry’s arm in an effort to help him scramble back up onto the snowy crust.
If we all kept our heads, we’d soon be retreating with quiet dignity...but the wild wolves had woken. Eyes glowed in the darkness. The moon swept them onto their feet and they advanced.
I’d thought there were only five wolves earlier, but now twice that many bore down upon us. Soon, they’d think to split up and encircle us. I couldn’t risk them threatening the moon-blind Jacob while Claw and Harry struggled to regain their feet.
Walk, I told Jacob, releasing him. Don’t run. Don’t look back. I’m right behind you.
He whined, unwilling to bypass his human pack mates. My wolf snapped at Jacob’s shoulder, teeth scraping skin. The youngster yelped, turned, broke into a run.
That wasn’t what I’d intended. Running was bait for a predator. A neon sign yelling “Chase me!”
But it was too late to stop Jacob’s flight. What could I do other than join him? I leapt straight over Claw so I could follow the spray of blood sprinkled across the snow’s surface.
Good enough. Claw’s voice in my head was warm, soothing. He was lupine beside me one moment before Harry completed his transformation. Three abreast, we faced off against the wild wolves, giving Jacob a head start on the coming journey.
Our enemies growled, postured. But we were bigger. More importantly, we were leaving.
Letting the moon sweep us up in its rhythm, we swung around to join Jacob. Four strong, we sprinted for safety.
We were fast. We were united. Together, we ran.
Chapter 24
All night, the pack tethers held me. Only when the sun rose above the untouched snowscape did my human half waken. Notice something outside the pack.
Adena was gone.
Of course she was. Ravens are diurnal. The last time I ran moon blind, the raven had ridden on my back as if I was a pony. This time, I hadn’t seen her since she’d tipped me off to Jacob’s distress.
We have more to worry about than one lost raven, I told myself, swallowing against the lump that slid halfway down my throat then stuck there. Beside me, three wolves loped along as if they planned to travel forever. Jacob’s wound wasn’t evident, nor was his humanity. I wasn’t much better, the intervening hours having been lost to my lupine self.
Now, though, I dug in virtual heels and was vindicated when our physical feet slowed an iota. Jacob wasn’t the only student depending on me. I needed to check on the three I’d left behind....
For once, nature assisted rather than hindered me. Paws struck bare rock, the surface warm rather than cold.
The remnant of a hot spring? Whatever the reason, heat made it easier to tempt my wolf to shed her fur and let me turn human. Still, I stumbled as I unfolded above two bare human feet.
Claw’s shoulder was under my hand, catching my balance before I realized I’d lost it. The unmistakable purr of a zipper emerged from behind me. I glanced back to find Harry, human, rummaging through his pack.
“You’re worried about your students,” he guessed. Or maybe he knew through the pac
k tether? “Jacob won’t be ready to shift for a while. But you can call and check on the others. Here. We have a satellite phone.”
I took a breath and a step away from Claw, who instantly knelt to murmur reassurances to Jacob. I know what it felt like to strain for humanity in the midst of moon blindness. I was glad my student didn’t have to do this alone.
But other students needed me also. So when Harry held out a bulky phone, I grabbed it wolflike and wordless. I was human enough to hit the power button...then to speak my disappointment when I realized I had nothing to type in.
“I don’t know their numbers.” Maybe if I called my own cell phone, Patricia would answer?
“Here.” Harry took the phone away from me, dug through a few files. “I ran background checks after the drug incident,” he explained, sounding more human than I felt at the moment. The sun was too bright. My ears rang each time the pack tethers tightened or loosened. No wonder Jacob whimpered at our feet.
Harry cleared his throat and I blinked him back into focus. “I’ve got their phone numbers, their addresses, their next of kin,” he continued, entirely unaffected by our full-moon run. “Who do you want to contact?”
“Patricia,” I decided. Then, re-centering myself with an effort. “Did your search turn up any red flags?”
“Naw. Which doesn’t mean none of them are responsible for planting ecstasy in the van. Just that they have no priors.” He punched in a series of digits before handing the phone back over. “I even checked your redheaded shaman,” he offered as the phone rang. “He’s a boy scout, in case you’re curious. Literally. Did his Eagle Scout project on recreating a Native American village pre-colonization.”
I blinked. Benjie continued to surprise me.
Then the connection went through, staticky but understandable. “Patricia’s phone,” said someone who definitely wasn’t my TA.
“SUZY?” I ASKED, ALERT at last. My wolf had joined me on this hunt of human words and telephones.