“Okay.” She paused. “Thank you. For helping me.”
He looked once more into her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. She could feel the weight of that gaze in the secret, hollow places deep inside her. Eyes like that, she thought, should be illegal. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“It’s Maggie.”
“What does that stand for?”
“Huh?”
“It’s a nickname, isn’t it?” His voice was low, patient, mildly amused. “What’s your full name?”
“Oh. Margaret,” she said. She chuckled slightly, awkwardly. “I’ve never liked either one, really. They both sound so ... I don’t know. So prissy.”
“Margaret is a lovely name,” he said. “So is Maggie. It doesn’t sound prissy at all.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Just the truth.” He smiled slightly and turned to go.
“Wait,” she said.
He paused, looking over his shoulder.
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “Could you show me where the bathroom is, please?”
He pointed to a chamber pot in the corner of the room.
“You’re kidding,” she said.
“No indoor plumbing here.”
“You really do like to rough it, don’t you?”
“I like to prove to myself that I can exist without relying on modern conveniences,” he said. “And this cabin is about as close to nature as you can get without moving into a cave.”
“A rugged individualist, huh?” she asked, a note of laughter in her voice.
“Yes. Though not entirely by choice.”
Maggie frowned. What did that mean?
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, still moving with that smooth, eerily graceful stride.
Chapter Two
As soon as he’d left the cabin, Justin returned immediately to the spot where the girl had been attacked. He had to know whether his suspicions were true.
The cougar had staggered off, wounded, into the forest. He could still see its tracks in the soft earth, along with a few dollops of blood on the ground. He followed them, until the tracks began to change. They grew longer and thinner, stretching out, until they more resembled human than feline tracks.
They were human tracks.
“Damn,” Justin whispered.
That hadn’t been an ordinary cougar. It was a were-cat. And that meant the girl was almost certainly infected with lycanthropy.
He stood, staring down at the tracks. Had it been an ordinary cat, he would have done exactly what he’d said that he’d do--go straight to town and inform the authorities of what had happened. Then the girl would have been taken to a hospital to get some proper medical attention, and he likely never would have seen her again.
But as things stood....
He couldn’t just let her go, to discover the horrible secret on her own. He had to prepare her. She would think he was insane, but he had to make her believe.
He turned and headed back to the cabin.
* * * *
When he entered the bedroom, Maggie was sitting on the bed, staring out the window.
Even bandaged and disheveled, with her long, straight brown hair in disarray, she was very attractive. The oversized shirt had slipped down on one side to reveal her smooth, pale shoulder and the delicate hollow above her collarbone. She looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes meeting his, and a faint, pink flush rose into her cheeks. Those eyes had an almost fawn-like vulnerability, framed by thick, silky lashes.
He was seized by a sudden, violent urge to walk across the room, pull her into his arms and kiss her, hard. He shoved the urge aside. He felt like an animal for even thinking about it: She was wounded, for God’s sake. But still, the desire was there. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“You know, it’s odd,” she said. “My shoulder feels completely better.” She flexed the arm. “It’s like the wound was never there in the first place. But it hasn’t had nearly enough time to heal.”
Justin was silent. Lycanthropes had the ability to heal flesh-wounds within hours. It was the final proof.
“I guess the wound wasn’t too deep,” she continued. “But still, that wouldn’t explain this, would it?” She unwrapped the bandages. Where the gash had been, there was only a thin, white scar. Even that, Justin knew, would probably be gone within the day. “What on Earth did you do to make it heal so quickly?” she asked.
“I cleaned and bandaged it,” he said. “Nothing special.”
“So weird,” she murmured. A long moment of silence crept by. “So,” she said, looking at him, “did you forget something?”
“Hmm?”
“You came back.”
He paused. “I had something to tell you, actually. Something which may be difficult for you to accept.”
Maggie’s brow furrowed slightly. “What?”
He took a deep breath. There was really no tactful way to tell someone they’d become a lycanthrope. He looked at her puzzled face. “The cat that attacked you was not an ordinary cougar.”
“What are you talking about? What else could it have been?”
“It was a were-cougar,” he said.
Maggie blinked. For a moment, her eyes went a little unfocused. “A what?”
“Were-cougar.”
“You mean like a werewolf?”
He nodded.
“You’re joking,” she said flatly.
“No,” he said.
“You’re talking about something that changes from human to animal every full moon? Is that what you mean?”
“That’s what I mean.”
“But that’s....”
“Crazy? Impossible?” He smiled thinly. “I used to think so, too.”
“There’s no such thing as werewolves,” she said, “or were-cougars. Whatever sort of weird prank you’re playing, it isn’t funny.”
“It’s not a prank.”
“Please, just stop it,” she said. Her hands curled into fists. “I hate it when people try to mess with my head. I get enough of that from my sister. She’s been doing this to me since I was a kid, telling me stupid stories to try and scare me, laughing when I believe it. It’s not funny. It never was.”
“Maggie,” he said, very gently, “I wouldn’t tell you this unless I was absolutely certain. I followed its trail, and I saw the tracks change from animal to human. I’ll show you, if you like.”
Maggie shook her head, eyes still clouded and dazed. “Just ... just go,” she said quietly. “Go to town, like you promised. I need to go to a hospital. They can explain this. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation.”
“I’m not crazy,” he said firmly.
“You expect me to believe what you’re saying?”
“You have to. After a bite like that, there’s a slim chance that you haven’t been infected with lycanthropy.”
She laughed shakily. “Oh, now you’re trying to tell me that I’m going to change at the full moon, too?”
“It’s very likely, yes.”
“Oh my God.” Her face had drained of color, making her brown eyes look even darker. “You really believe what you’re saying, don’t you? You really are crazy.”
“How do you think your wound healed so quickly?” he asked. “That’s not possible with human physiology. That’s a lycanthrope trait.”
“No. There’s got to be some other explanation.”
He approached and leaned down, hands resting on the edge of the bed, so his face was close to hers. “Look at my eyes,” he said quietly. “Look at them closely. Do these look like human eyes?”
Maggie didn’t move, didn’t speak. Her lips trembled slightly.
“I know this is a hard to believe,” he said, still holding her gaze with his, “but you have to accept it, or you’re going to be totally unprepared on the next full moon. You have to be prepared. I don’t want you to go through what I did.”
“Justin....”
; “Watch,” he said. “Don’t look away or close your eyes.” Lightly, he gripped her chin between a thumb and forefinger, anchoring her face in place. Then he reached into himself, into the wild energy that always lurked at the core of his being, like a hot, dancing flame, and let that energy flow through him, just a little: A carefully controlled stream of power. He felt the familiar prickling sensation on his face as fur sprouted on his brow and cheeks. He felt his teeth lengthening until his human mouth didn’t seem large enough to contain them, and his lips parted, revealing the sharp, curved fangs. He felt muscles shifting beneath the skin of his face as his nose and mouth stretched into a feline muzzle.
“Oh God,” Maggie whispered. Her eyes were filled with stark terror.
Justin released her and stepped back. With control born of years of practice, he forced the energy back down into the core of his being, suppressing it. The fur vanished back into his skin, his fangs retracted into slightly-sharper-than-normal human canines once again, and his muzzle flattened out into a human face. “Do you believe me now?” he asked.
Maggie stared at him, her face sheet white, and for a moment, he wondered if she was going to faint.
He reached out. She pulled away, but he gripped her wrist firmly. “It’s all right,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m not a monster, and neither are you. Lycanthropy is a condition. A disease. That’s all. I can control the transformations. The only time I can’t is at the full moon, and I can plan for that.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. Small tremors shook her body.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to show you that. But you have to accept the truth now, or it will be much harder for you in the long run.”
“It’s real, isn’t it?” she said in a small voice. Her arms tightened around herself. “I didn’t imagine that. You really changed.”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s real.”
She shivered. For a long moment, she was silent, her eyes slightly unfocused. “When you change, are you still yourself?” she asked quietly. Her voice was weak, but steady. “Inside, I mean? Are you still you? Or are you really an animal?”
“A little of both,” he said. “I retain a sense of who I am, but it’s harder to think the way a human does when I’m in cougar form. I react to most things as a cougar would. That’s why it’s important not to be around people during your change.”
“You think you might attack them?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. I’d rather not find out, so I avoid people during those times. That’s why I have this cabin. It’s secluded and convenient.”
“But there’s a town not far away, isn’t there?”
“Far enough. And when I’m a cat, I tend to avoid people. I go deeper into the woods, not toward the town. Most wild animals, even large predators, will not go near a human if they can avoid it, and they won’t attack unless they’re starving or feel threatened.”
Maggie took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about this,” she said. “How am I going to explain it to my sister, my friends? No one will believe me.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t tell them anything.”
“Why not?” asked Maggie.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“But I can’t keep it a secret.”
“You must,” he said.
“It’s my life,” she said sharply. “It’s my choice.”
“If you told anyone, the consequences would be disastrous.”
“But how can I possibly hide something like this?”
“By being cautious and discreet, as our kind have done for thousands of years. Society is not very accepting of this sort of thing, as you might imagine,” he said. “That’s why lycanthropes work to keep their identity a secret. People’s only perception of us comes from horror movies. If society ever learned about our existence, can you imagine what the reaction would be? We’d be hunted down like animals.”
She bit her lower lip. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. Still ... I don’t know if I could keep something like this a secret from everyone. I mean, I can see how I wouldn’t want it to become public information, but what about the people I know, the people close to me?”
“I can’t say how they’d react. I don’t know them. But even open-minded people can get strange when it comes to something like this, something that’s outside their perception of what reality should be. I know from experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say my family and I don’t talk much anymore.” He looked away and tried to ignore the hot stab of pain in his heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “It’s in the past. It’s not important now. The point is, I’ve been a lycanthrope for awhile, so I know something about how to live as one. Do you want me to teach you how to handle it?”
She stared at him a moment, then slowly nodded. “All right. Teach me.”
She was handling it remarkably well, he thought. She might seem skittish on the surface, but there was iron strength lurking inside her. He wondered if she was even aware of that. Most people would be in a panic, screaming and raving, or buried deep in denial, insisting that he was crazy even after they’d seen the evidence with their own eyes. She’d simply accepted it after recovering from the initial shock. Had he handled it so well, himself? He couldn’t even remember.
He pulled up a chair and sat down. “The first and most important thing to remember is that you should never be in a populated area when you change. For one thing, obviously you don’t want anyone to see you or figure out what you are. For another, you want to avoid accidentally hurting anyone else. Your mind may not be completely human once you transform.”
“Do you think that’s why that other were-cat attacked me?” she asked. “Maybe he wasn’t even a bad person. Maybe he just couldn’t control himself while he was in that form.”
“It’s possible,” he said slowly. “Still, were-cats do retain some of their humanity when they change. I retained enough to want to help you when I saw you in trouble.”
“So you were the other cat. You told me I’d imagined it,” she said, sounding a little offended.
“That was before I knew it was a lycanthrope that had attacked you. I was hoping not to have to mention anything about my own condition, for reasons I’m sure you can understand.”
“I guess I can.” She paused. “I still don’t like the idea of having to hide this from everyone.”
“I don’t like living this way, either. I’d rather not have to worry about keeping it a secret. But believe me, it’s safer this way.”
She stared down at her hands, which rested in her lap, small and pale. Her lips trembled.
He sighed. “I wish I could do more to help you.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled faintly. “I’d probably be dead right now if not for you. Being a were-cougar is still better than being dead. Isn’t it?”
“I’ve always thought so,” he said.
She stared at the wall, blinking rapidly. Reaching out, he lightly touched her face, tilting it toward him, and looked into her eyes. They were wet with tears. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “We’ll get through this.”
“We? But I hardly know you.”
“Right now, I’m really the only person that can help you, one of the few who knows what you’re going through and can give you some advice. I’m not going to just abandon you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He was suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, and of her smell, warm and intoxicating and very female. He leaned a little closer, barely aware of what he was doing, and breathed in that smell, his eyes focused on the soft, pale skin of her throat. He could see the pulse there, fluttering just beneath the surface.
Quickly, he pulled back, averting his eyes. He was a man, not an animal. He could control his instincts.
“Justin?” she said. “Is some
thing wrong?”
He looked at her again. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted. Her smell filled his nose, making him giddy. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had leaned down to capture her mouth in a kiss, pressing his lips firmly to hers. His arms surrounded her small body. He felt her stiffen in surprise ... then relax against him. She was trembling slightly.
He wanted to run his hands over her soft body, her firm little breasts and silky thighs. He wanted....
Justin pulled back, shaking his head, as if to shake himself out of the trance. “Damn it,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I don’t know what came over me.” But of course he did. It had been lust, pure and simple. Or perhaps not so simple--had his desire ever been so strong, so difficult to control? He’d always prided himself on being a master of his instincts. How was it that his control had crumbled so easily? “That won’t happen again,” he said firmly.
Maggie was silent, still staring at him with those huge eyes. Her lips were slightly swollen. She touched them lightly with her fingertips. “It’s okay,” she said. Her voice was soft, husky, and low. It surprised him and seemed to surprise her, as well. She blinked, eyes widening a little more, then turned away, taking a deep breath.
“Are you all right?” he asked. His own voice had deepened.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her smell had changed, subtly but unmistakably, grown sharper and hotter. She was aroused.
If he were to slip a hand into her underwear and slide a finger into her tight, young pussy, would he find it slick and wet?
He closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. This was the very last thing he should be thinking about at a time like this, the last thing either one of them should be thinking about.
His breath caught in his throat when he felt her hand on his leg. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he saw her looking up at him, her eyes soft and smoky with desire. His mouth descended slowly toward hers until their lips touched, and he felt the warmth of her breath. The last of his control slipped away. He grabbed her, pulling her body tight against his. He could feel her warm breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples tight and hard. His hands slid over her shoulders, down her back, his palms hungry for the feel of her, wanting to touch and possess every inch. A tiny moan slid from her throat. At that sound, a fresh throb of heat went through his already hard and aching cock.
Transformation Page 2
