Moon Dancer Read online

  We’ll fix this. Today, I reminded my alter-ego. Aloud, I spouted similar promises. “I’ll do better.”

  “See that you do.” Dr. Sanora opened her laptop and turned her attention to the screen, a clear dismissal.

  But when I reached the door, she couldn’t resist a parting shot. “And put something on that blouse. Tomato juice or blood—once they dry, both stains are impossible to get out.”

  Chapter 3

  Unlike the always-prepared Dr. Sanora, I didn’t have a stain stick stashed away in my office. But I did possess a spare t-shirt that smelled like the man who had gifted it to me—Claw.

  Shaking out the soft fabric, I couldn’t resist raising it to my face and swallowing a lung-deep inhale. Butterscotch with hints of sandalwood, the affiliated damp-moss scent lost to the twelve days since a wolf transformation had taken me by surprise and left me begging for help from the werewolf I had previously avoided at all costs. The shirt was far too small to fit across Claw’s broad shoulders, but he must have held it close to his skin for some time to imbue it so thoroughly with his scent.

  In my belly, the remnant of a pack bond quivered. Ours, my wolf murmured. I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

  “Are you going to put that on or just smell it all day?” Val bounced into the room, as effervescent as champagne and twice as lively. “Not that you should be dressing. Go on, girl. Strip.”

  Her excitement sizzled in my nostrils, overwhelming her brother’s older aroma and knocking me out of my melancholy. The moment of truth had finally arrived.

  “You have it?” I asked as Val closed the office door then yanked down the small shade in the built-in window to block the view of random passersby. I mirrored her actions, closing the blinds on the larger windows behind me before beginning to unbutton my blouse. “And are you sure we should do this here?”

  “We shouldn’t use the pack house. Claw disapproves. Your house has too many exits. Look.”

  As she spoke, Val reached into her jacket pocket and removed the small, gray bauble I’d asked her to pick up on her way over. Scanning my wolf then printing a miniature 3D replica had taken some doing. Good thing I had twenty-four-hour access to the innovation lab.

  That’s me. My wolf was uninterested in the logistics. Reaching out to snatch the plastic statue with human fingers, she turned it around to view herself from every angle. I’m pretty.

  “What’s she saying?”

  I started to hedge, then realized I was being unfair to both of them. If this worked out, my wolf and Val would become intimately acquainted. Val needed to understand the choice she was about to make.

  “She thinks the statue is pretty.”

  No, I’m pretty. Ask again if we can hunt every day.

  “And she wants to know if you’re really willing to be four-legged every single day if the transfer is successful.”

  I placed the statue on my desk so I could cup Val’s hand in both of mine. Since Changing into a werewolf, I’d become much more touchy-feely.

  “Val, you need to seriously consider what this would mean to your life. It’s not easy juggling wolf and human natures. It’s...”

  “I really, really want this. You’re doing me a huge favor.” Val’s smile was so wide it distorted her speech.

  I shook my head, refusing to let her off the hook so easily. “Changes aren’t guaranteed, Val. Look at me.” I gestured at the bloody blouse, the dirty wolf tracks in one corner of the room where my inner beast had shifted yesterday. The sensation of mouse fur in my mouth still made me wince. “I’m considered a success story. Do you want this to be you?”

  Against my will, hairs rose up and down my arms as my wolf tensed inside me. She didn’t entirely follow the verbal banter, but she knew I was being disrespectful. Val’s expression, when she shook her head, was almost sad.

  “You’re the one who’s missing out. Not just on your wolf, but on Claw. On being part of something profound.” Now it was her turn to squeeze my fingers. “You do realize that you can’t have it all, right? Maybe a werewolf can’t be an archaeology professor, but a human also can’t be a full member of a pack.”

  My chest tightened as I evaded her eyes and pondered my answer. I thought Val was wrong...and she thought I was wrong. Just talking about it drove a wedge between us.

  In the end, I decided not to argue further. Val had spent over a decade around shifters and knew what she was getting into. We’d used blood tests to confirm her latent werewolfism and I knew the steps required to rip the animal spirit out of a Changed werewolf.

  Plus, I desperately needed to ditch my beast so I could return to my normal life. Archaeology. Teaching. Neither were compatible with furry runs through the forest.

  I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that selfishness was a big part of my decision.

  “Let’s do it,” I decided. “Give me a little space. I need to shift.”

  THE LAST TIME I’D PERFORMED this ceremony, I was stuck within the skin of a prehistoric shaman. I’d been unable to do anything other than watch.

  Still, the steps were as deeply ingrained as the act of sifting back-dirt at an archaeological work site. I could have run through both procedures in my sleep.

  “Ready?” I was speaking to my wolf, but Val was the one who nodded. Taking internal silence for agreement I wriggled out of my underwear then let the wolf have her head.

  The beast ripped out of me in a breathless burst of animal vigor. Hit the ground with our descending forepaws so hard a three-thousand-year-old pot rattled on my desk.

  So much for animal grace. I would have rolled my eyes if I’d still had command over them. As it was, all I could do was kibitz.

  The wolf snorted her annoyance at my internal chatter. Together, we padded three steps forward so we could pick up the wolf statue between sharp front teeth. It tasted like chemicals and scorched plastic. Nothing like the stone animal the shaman had used to work literal magic three months—or many millennia—before.

  Still, we kept our jaw muscles clenched as the wolf turned the reins over to me willingly. I gathered my breath and my focus. Then—

  “Woman not wolf,” I gasped as human legs lengthened and broadened beneath me. The statue tumbled out of my mouth into Val’s waiting hands.

  “Did it work?” she asked, running her fingers across the plastic wolf statue. The surface was visibly wet from my saliva, but she didn’t flinch at making contact with my bodily fluids.

  “I don’t know.” I lacked the twist in my stomach that I’d felt within the shaman’s body. Cold air flowed across my nakedness as I roused my wolf out of her panting respite. “No way to find out other than to move on to step two.”

  My wolf was willing but tired. Slower this time, we shivered down onto four legs, our balance tricky until our body finally disgorged a tail and lengthened our neck on the other end.

  The fangs in our mouth took thirty seconds to regrow, but our mind buzzed as if we’d overdosed on sugar. Now for the real test. The first wolf-to-woman transformation had been meant to imbue the plastic with power. This second shift would draw the magic back out.

  Val knelt and pressed the statue into our open mouth, ignoring the sharp lupine teeth that grazed her unprotected flesh in the process. “I’m ready whenever you are,” she promised, gazing directly into our eyes but speaking only to the animal half of our partnership. “I can’t wait to run with you. We’re going to have so much fun.”

  Yes, now, my wolf agreed around and within me. Shift, she ordered.

  And...I tried. But my feet were wobbly, our shared lupine body tremulous with exhaustion. Pack bonds weighed me down and I swayed beneath their restrictions. Thread-thin connections to Claw, Harry, and Theta wound me up like a fly within a web.

  “Olivia?” Val asked, her voice squeaky with uncertainty. I whined in answer. This wasn’t going as planned, but at least we had no audience....

  Behind us, a gust of warm air blew through a door that had been shut one moment earlier. Bare
ly audible footsteps approached. The click of a latch blocked wolf-friendly retreat.

  Chapter 4

  “So you’re doing this.” Claw’s voice was like fermented honey, sweet at first with a bitter aftertaste. Inside my belly, the tether between us widened, strengthened. The pack bond filled me with a caffeine-like boost of energy...and at the same time worked against me. The harder I pressed against the inside of my wolf’s skin now, the more she resisted my impulse to shift.

  Pack, she whispered.

  He’ll still be your pack when you’re Val’s wolf.

  My wolf’s reaction was wordlessly dismissive. The future was unknowable. She wanted to rub up against Claw now.

  Focus, I gritted out as the human we were supposed to be partnering with danced around me to greet her brother. In lieu of an answer, my wolf planted her feet and stood frozen until two pairs of legs reappeared at eye level.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Val told her brother. “I think Olivia’s stuck.”

  I wasn’t stuck. My wolf was recalcitrant. Whatever the reason, though, Val’s words were growing more and more distant, my vision tunneling in on the pool of saliva puddling on the floor between our paws.

  Claw’s face at eye level, however, drew our attention. “Do you want me to leave?”

  I should have said yes, but his presence sent warmth tunneling through chilled muscles. United about this, at least, my wolf and I swayed our head side to side in denial.

  “And you need to shift?” Claw’s voice was a lifeline. It pulled me out of the agony of a transformation that wasn’t happening, reawakening my rational brain.

  Yes, we needed to shift. Again, my wolf and I were in complete agreement. My job and future depended upon untarnished humanity. My wolf just wanted fingers so she could caress Claw’s skin.

  Rather than nodding, we pushed once again for humanity. Nothing happened. Well, that’s not quite true. Our legs quivered, barely holding us upright. Our ears rang so loudly the sound overwhelmed the roaring of our breath.

  Claw sighed, the deep gust of exhaled air redolent with disappointment. He didn’t approve, but he was willing to help us. “Okay, then. Val, turn your back.”

  Clothes dropped into a pile on the floor beside me. Despite everything, I let my wolf peek out of the corner of one eye.

  Muscles atop muscles. The sinuous grace of a well-honed predator. As usual, Claw’s mere proximity was making us pant.

  Then he was lupine alongside us. Man, then wolf...then man again.

  The tether running between me and Claw pulled us along in his undertow. Wolf then woman....

  For one split second, my animal alter-ego began to leave my body. Paws scrabbled up the inside of my throat while something invisible yet very tangible pressed out of the top of my head.

  Then Claw cleared his throat and the wrist-thick rope of light drew tight between us. It stretched. Strained. Snapped like a rubber band.

  Not broken. Resilient.

  The rebound flung my wolf back into my body. Blunt human teeth bit into the plastic statue.

  Still here, the beast informed me.

  Together, we spat out the statue that had done exactly no good.

  “IT DIDN’T WORK.” VAL’S face was averted, but I smelled her disappointment even as she promised, “We’ll try again. Didn’t you say red ochre is important for this kind of ceremony? We’ll use red ochre. And sage incense. Next time will be a success.”

  My bond to Claw had been the obvious problem, but I suspected Val was right also. The lack of a charging spark during my initial shift meant something had been left out early in the ceremony. I hadn’t been fully privy to the cave painter’s method of charging wolf statues. There must have been a trick that I’d missed.

  For now, though, I needed to focus on managing my unruly animal nature. Because while we’d been united moments earlier, the beast’s moods were as fickle as weather in the spring.

  My turn. My hunt, my wolf demanded. Today was her day. She was done being two-legged. We ripped the window blinds in our haste to locate the lock and push up the sash.

  “You’re naked,” Val reminded us. “Students. Faculty.”

  “Olivia.” Claw’s voice gave me the upper hand for one split second, then my wolf was once again grabbing for dominance.

  Shift now. She was adamant, unwilling to budge on the issue.

  Bargaining rarely worked when my wolf grew this headstrong. But we were both so deeply winded from four shifts in fast succession that I had a chance of making her listen to reason.

  I hoped.

  We’ll run tonight. I kept my inner voice firm, authoritative. Reflexively, I crossed my fingers behind my back.

  Of course, it’s impossible to hoodwink your own alter-ego. Help me, the wolf countered, or I’ll eat a student.

  Behind us, questions flowed in Val’s anxious soprano. Answers emerged in Claw’s deep baritone.

  They wanted to help, but this was an issue between me and my monster. I blocked out both external voices and took the devil’s deal. Okay. We’ll shift and you’ll behave.

  Yes. If she’d been human, we would have spat on our palms and shook on it. Instead, we bent double, waiting for paws to reappear.

  United, we made progress toward achieving wolfhood. But it was painfully slow going. Straining against the bonds holding us in our present body, we clenched teeth to muffle a scream into a grunt.

  “She’s shifting.” Val’s observation was heartening, a hint that I wouldn’t be stuck in this agony of limbo forever. Claw’s wordless rumble was less heartening, reminding me of the dangers I awoke when I turned my wolf loose in the human world.

  I hoped our deal would hold. I hoped....

  Then we were four-legged. Our head bowed as we sucked in oxygen. Adena cawed a question from a nearby branch.

  Coming, my wolf answered, tail lifting. She recovered far more quickly than I had as a human. Our forefeet were already on the windowsill when Claw spoke to us.

  “Go straight home.”

  The pack bond I’d tried to excise twined around us, tempting the wolf to do his bidding. We scrabbled our way up onto the windowsill, turned back to glance once at those we left behind.

  Val clutched my clothes to her chest, eyes wide and lips parted. Claw stood with arms crossed but made no attempt to hide his nakedness.

  Our pack, my wolf whispered, tempted to stay here and hunt on campus.

  “Go home,” Claw repeated, this time imbuing his words with the full electricity of an alpha’s order.

  Werewolves obey their pack leader. Without further argument, we went.

  SCUTTLING DOWN THE sidewalk with our tail between our legs and Adena soaring above us, we almost ran into Dick Duncan, former department chair and not my greatest fan. For half a second, I worried that he’d do something rash and trigger my wolf’s predatory instincts. But, of course, the professor didn’t know us from Adam in lupine form.

  “Hey!” he complained as our nose made contact with the hem of his trousers.

  My wolf lifted her tail jauntily in what he probably took as a welcome. Then she released the most foul-smelling fart imaginable as we trotted past.

  Insult via flatulence. Classy.

  Rather than respond to my relieved banter, the wolf continued running in the direction she’d been traveling, Claw’s order pushing her footsteps faster than they might ordinarily have gone. Tree-lined blocks sped past without further incident. Soon, we reached the narrow alley behind our own backyard.

  Dropping to our belly, we crawled through the dog flap I’d installed three months earlier. We were in the kitchen. We were now officially home.

  Claw’s compulsion fell away the instant our paws touched tiles. And, predictably, my wolf turned tail to go back out the way she’d come in.

  Hunt. Deer. Now!

  There are no deer in this neighborhood.

  I couldn’t quite manage to make her stop walking. But my intrusion did cause our feet to tangle together. We
tripped over our opposite impulses, winding up with our snout tucked beneath the kitchen island.

  My wolf, unfortunately, was not sidetracked by the crumbs there. Big trees. Many deer. A vibrant memory of the forest ten miles distant consumed us. Wind in our fur. Birds in the trees. The heady sensation of running with pack.

  I never should have let Claw talk me into that hunt two months earlier. Because my wolf was now handily forgetting the heavy traffic that separated us from her chosen destination. Was forgetting how Harry and Val had guarded the perimeter so Claw, Theta, and I could hunt without worrying about scaring human hikers.

  No, we can’t.... I started. Without the pack, there would be no large-scale hunting. Plus, my wolf didn’t seem inclined to let me shift long enough to hop into the car and drive there.

  Her disagreement was visceral. A punch to our gut. A whine in her throat.

  And I found myself losing the capacity for rational thought just like she was. Losing words, sight, even the ability to hear Adena cawing a question from the backyard.

  Vision tunneled toward darkness. Don’t do this.... I warned my wolf.

  But it was too late. Instead, for the first time in three months, I fell into the past.

  Chapter 5

  The air was frigid, but that wasn’t why we shivered. Instead, the body I inhabited quaked with effort, a ripple of agony tearing through our midsection as our uterus contracted.

  The cave girl I’d met three months earlier was giving birth within a dry but exposed rock shelter with deep drifts of snow only a few feet away. She was entirely alone. Well, alone except for me.

  I needed to get back to my skin before my wolf did something we’d both regret later. But I couldn’t make myself leave this prehistoric teenager to her own devices when she was alone in the wilderness.

  So I focused on spreading peace and ease throughout the cave girl’s system. It wasn’t an epidural, but the effort seemed to help.