Phantom Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  His former lover vanished.

  A dark-skinned man stood in her place. Gray hair hidden beneath a battered straw cowboy hat, the lanky man wore a faded checked shirt and plain cotton pants.

  Shay glanced downward. Thick, hairy toes peeped out from worn leather sandals.

  “Meet Juan Hernandez, a visitor to this town.”

  Even her voice had deepened to a man’s timbre.

  Suspicion filled him. Only Elementals had the power to shape-shift, and it was limited to Phantoms like himself.

  Arcanes gained the power only when they’d killed a Phantom and siphoned all his magick. What if Senator Rogers was right? Was Kelly’s nonprofit a front for stealing Elemental children and killing them to enhance their powers?

  The thought sickened him.

  Shay’s hand automatically fell to his sidearm as he studied Kelly’s guileless expression. No darkness tinged her aura, only the normal crimson of an Arcane, interlaced with strong gold. Gold because of the triskele, he thought, glancing at the pendant. Either the medallion endowed Kelly with his magick, or the spell binding them together had fueled her with power.

  He didn’t like this. But other priorities mattered more.

  Removing the leather holster and pistol, Shay tucked them into his backpack. Damn, he hated not carrying, but packing would raise a few eyebrows.

  Culling his magick, he focused. The change was almost instant, perfected by years of practice.

  “Wow.” Her gaze widened. “Uh, very Freudian of you.”

  She fished a small compact mirror from her pack and handed it over. Shay looked.

  In the mirror, Kelly stared back. Silky red framing a heart-shaped face, cheeks tinted by a rosy flush. Shay licked his reddened, wet mouth.

  What the hell?

  “Do you mind? It’s very disconcerting seeing you as me.”

  “I’m suddenly quite tempted to kiss myself.”

  “Sam, please change into someone else. Anyone else. Even Senator Rogers is better.”

  This was priceless. Shay grinned. “Hmm. I like this body. Feels nice.” He ran a hand over his new chest. “Very nice.”

  Juan/Kelly’s cheeks darkened as he flushed. “Stop feeling me up. Or are you indulging in some private fantasy? One without me because you prefer it that way?”

  Shay dropped the grin. “Never,” he said quietly. “I’ll always prefer the original model in my arms. No magick could ever duplicate her. She’s one of a kind.”

  Kelly turned away, but not before he caught the glint of moisture in her now-dark eyes. Shay steeled himself against the urge to gather her into his arms and give comfort as he’d done in the past. He needed her sharp, alert and unemotional. Sympathy wouldn’t snap her out of it.

  “Buck up, Juan. Real men don’t cry. If you’re going to go soft on me, turn back into a girlie girl.”

  “I’m not crying, dammit.” Those thin shoulders tensed with pride.

  Atta girl, he thought silently. Concentrating, he envisioned a pretty, shapely brunette. The mirror now showed a woman with dark hair and eyes, cheekbones sharp as blades, the stamp of ancient Mayan ancestry on her features. Shay smoothed his skirts and straightened the white peasant blouse.

  Kelly flicked a hand at his chest. “A little much? You like skinny women with huge breasts?”

  Far from it. He adored a woman with curves, whose soft body would cushion a man when he lay between her legs. A redhead with deep blue eyes sparkling with laughter and passion would suffice. Kelly.

  Hell, no wonder he’d screwed up the shape-shifting.

  “It’s a distraction. Men like to check out women, I gave myself big assets to draw attention to me and away from you. If we encounter any bounty hunters, most will be too busy staring at my chest to notice you.”

  “And you know this because...why? You like to stare at women like that, too, Sam?”

  He actually did not. Shay loved women, respected them too much. Oh, hell, he’d scope out a woman like other men, but he’d notice other things. The way she laughed, how she moved, how she interacted with others. Aggressive and bold or quiet and confident?

  Kelly taught him that. He’d learned to see beyond appearance to the woman beneath. And now when he chose his female companions, never more than for a few nights of pleasure, their biggest assets were inside their heads.

  “Call me Maria.” He pursed his lips and batted his lashes. “Sam doesn’t go well with this outfit. You’re my husband and we just recently married.”

  “We make a great pair. Like matching salt and pepper shakers.”

  No, we made a better pair when we were Sam and Kelly, long ago.

  But he said nothing as they stepped out onto the road.

  * * *

  The disguises worked. No one gave them more than a cursory glance as they walked to the next town, although Shay had to remind Kelly to rein in her natural grace.

  Men didn’t sway their hips.

  Crumbling adobe buildings with sagging corrugated metal roofs lined the narrow streets. Women sat beneath faded beach umbrellas, selling roasted corn and mangoes. Shay spotted a sign reading El Nuevo Comodor. The restaurant had a cracked window and peeling paint, contradicting its boast of such newness. He checked the sun’s position. Time to give Dakota a sitrep. The restaurant was nearly empty.

  While Kelly went to the ladies’ room, Shay fished his cell from his pack and punched in LT’s number. The phone rang. No answer. Either Dakota was out of range or something had happened. He left a voice mail.

  When she returned, they bought water and snacks from the restaurant, earning a small smile from the owner. As they made their way down the cracked sidewalk, wending through a gaggle of women selling fruit from woven baskets, a chicken bus stopped. The ancient school bus, painted in wild colors, waited for a herd of goats to cross the street. A man hung an elbow out the bus window, his sharpened gaze raking over the street. The faint red glow of his aura pulsed. Shay tensed, bracing for action.

  “Maria, I am very hungry for a delicious mango. Don’t these look good?” Juan/Kelly asked in halting Spanish.

  The passenger’s gaze whipped over to Kelly. He lifted something from his lap. A shotgun.

  Juan/Kelly glanced up and saw the gun. Blood drained from her face. Sam squeezed Kelly’s arm in silent warning and pointed to the mango basket. She bent her head, examining the ripe fruit. He itched to have his Sig in hand. The weapon was part of him.

  But the disguise was more effective. He adjusted the white blouse to show a tantalizing glimpse of generous cleavage. Nearby men began studying him and moved closer to the mango seller’s stand. Murmurs of frank male appreciation followed.

  The shotgun-carrying passenger in the bus riveted his gaze to Sam’s chest.

  Give them a show. Sam moistened his mouth and bent over to pull two ripe mangoes from the basket, showing a generous display of cleavage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw shotgun man lean out of the window, his interest fully engaged.

  Juan/Kelly fished bills out of a wallet to pay the beaming seller. Finally, the bus rambled past. Shoulders hunched, Kelly stared at the ground.

  She looked too damn scared. Other pedestrians glanced at them curiously. They were drawing attention.

  “Juan, I want to buy some tortillas, too,” he said, hoping she took the hint.

  Silence. C’mon, Kel, take charge, he silently urged. Play the part.

  He pouted, putting a hand on one hip as he’d seen women do. “Another man would give me what I want,” he said in a smooth purr.

  It worked. Juan/Kelly’s head snapped up and she seized his arm, holding it in a proprietary way. “Enough shopping. We need to make it home before dark.”

  Her Spanish was slow but precise. Shay gave an approving nod.

  A bri
ef, stinging slap on his ass made him yelp. “You are too much of a flirt with the men, Maria.”

  Glaring, he rubbed his ass. “They like what they see and pay attention to me.”

  “They only stare at your body.”

  Shay wriggled his hips. “Is it not a body worth a few stares?”

  “They will never have you. Mine is the only bed you will ever lie upon. Perhaps I should keep you there naked until I plant another baby in your belly.”

  Whoa. This was too weird, the words getting him cranked up.

  Beneath the plain cotton bra, his nipples turned to hard points. Shay glanced down in dismay. So this is what arousal felt like for women.

  And he thought it was hard to hide an erection...

  “Let us go, Juan.” Man, he sure as hell hoped she’d get the hint and stop talking. But Kelly was too into the role.

  “When I get you home, Maria, I will give you no reason to leave our bed. You will enjoy the pleasure I give you and forget about all others,” Juan/Kelly continued.

  Pleasure...memories flooded his mind. Kelly stretched out beneath him, her fingers interlaced with his, her smoky gaze widening as he lowered his head and encased one taut nipple in his mouth. Those little screams of hers driving him wild, her hands stroking him lower until he wanted to die...

  An odd, disconcerting ache pulsed between his legs. Shay felt real alarm. Dammit. “Let’s roll,” he muttered in English.

  Grabbing her arm, Shay picked up the pace. The hell with acting like a meek woman. This role reversal was more dangerous than he’d anticipated.

  Finally, they reached a deserted side street. Juan/Kelly pulled him into the recess of a doorway, out of sight. “What’s your prob?” she hissed in English.

  “You, talking about fucking me. Stop it,” he said darkly.

  Those sun-darkened cheeks flushed again. “Sorry. I didn’t think...”

  “Then start.”

  Juan/Kelly hugged himself. “I was scared. That man in the bus seemed like he knew who I was. I thought if I got more into the role of a man, it would help.”

  Shay’s anger faded. “It’s okay. I overreacted. It’s a little unsettling, getting turned on as a woman.”

  Curiosity flared on her face. “Is it? I’ve always wondered what it feels like to be a man, you know, when you get aroused. What turns a man on?”

  Hooyah, this was getting interesting. You.

  “Try it,” he said softly. “Touch yourself.”

  “A little kinky. But maybe if I imagine I’m touching you, when you’re Sam.” Juan/Kelly gave a seductive smile. “Like this.”

  Her hand dropped lower, over her groin. A single, slow stroke. Now blood began to rush much lower, making the ache turn into a pulsing need as Shay’s imagination kicked into overdrive. This was too much to resist.

  “Touching me how?”

  “All over,” she whispered. “The way I used to dream about, after you left. The way we first made love. I was scared, because I’d heard a woman’s first time hurts. And then you told me to explore your body...”

  He closed his eyes, remembering Kelly’s hands touching him, stroking over his naked body, exploring every exposed inch of his hot skin. Then her mouth slowly lowering, those wet, red lips opening as she took him into her mouth...

  Oh, hell, this was all wrong. No fantasy could ever suffice. He wanted the real thing.

  Shay’s eyes snapped open and met her startled gaze. Then she glanced down with a look of pure dismay. He bit back a chuckle.

  “Now you know what it feels like,” he murmured.

  “How do I get rid of this?”

  “I find it helpful to think of baseball. The Yankees winning the playoffs works for me.”

  “This is too weird,” Juan/Kelly muttered.

  “Right.” Shay sobered. “Think of what’s really at stake. What we need to be doing instead of standing here like a couple of horny teenagers. What could happen to your people and mine if all this goes down.”

  Juan/Kelly paled. “That works for me, Sam, because right now I feel scared to death.”

  “Hey.” He ran a finger down one sun-darkened cheek, envisioning the real Kelly beneath the disguise. “I’m not going to let it happen. Trust me.”

  They moved out of the building and to the main road. Juan/Kelly scanned the area. “So far, at least three humans are after me. The guys back at Rosa’s and the man on the bus. Those aren’t too bad odds.”

  “The man on the bus was an Arcane.”

  “Not possible. How could you tell?”

  “All Arcanes’ auras deepen to crimson when they’re tense. When we’re young, Elementals are taught to detect the slightest flicker. It’s taught in our schools, to protect Elemental children.”

  A small, disdainful snort. “How wonderful for your kind. And what about Arcanes? What defenses do we have? Did anyone ever consider we’re tense because our magick is weak and we’re under constant scrutiny by Elementals?”

  Shay fell silent. Kelly had been a victim of suspicion and prejudice long before the night of the fire.

  “I’m surprised my aura isn’t neon red. They’ve labeled me a criminal simply because I’m an Arcane. Any evidence of my innocence will be thrown out once I’m brought before the council.”

  Her voice dropped. “I’ll be imprisoned. Or executed.”

  Acid coated his throat. “No way in hell. Not going to happen, so stop talking about it.”

  He’d fight to the blood and bone to ensure she was safe. The promise made long ago still held. Even when he’d left her on her own, he hadn’t forgotten.

  “You won’t have any choice. As soon as you hand me over, you’re back to your SEAL team. The council will prevent you from interfering.”

  Shay sighed. “Trust me, Kel. I have influence and power, and I’ll be damned if I let those bureaucratic bastards touch you.”

  But a niggling doubt wormed into his mind. Did the council truly treat all Arcanes like that? No trial, no chance to plead their innocence, just thrown into prison, or worse?

  It would get worse. Once the council believed the threat of genocide, it’d act. Spring into action and imprison all Arcanes. Or kill them.

  Fair and just Mages like his uncle would stop them.

  But fear was a powerful motivator. All it would take was a few whispered words to the right people, and Arcanes would disappear.

  Kill an entire population simply because they were different. Couldn’t happen.

  Right.

  Gritting his teeth, he sidestepped a man lounging against a streetlamp. “If you want a normal life when this is over, Kel, you have to give the system a chance to work. Give me a chance.”

  “I gave you a chance twelve years ago. It’s too late.”

  The hard shell encased his heart once more. He said nothing, only nudged her to keep moving.

  Keep moving forward. All they could do. Except with every step forward, Shay felt himself sliding backward into the past.

  A past he missed more than he could admit.

  Chapter 12

  They needed a car.

  Sam hunted through the village looking for one to boost, but the town was too crowded. He opted for public transportation instead. La Aurora was too far to walk. And with the increased threat of men searching for her, Kelly knew they had to find the missing kids.

  Before a bounty hunter captured her.

  They boarded a chicken bus. Afraid to meet strangers’ gazes, she looked out the window.

  As twilight fell, they got off at a town an hour’s drive from La Aurora. As they stepped off the bus, Sam steered her toward a shop that sold sundries and clothing, ignoring her protests.

  There, he purchased a plain white scarf and handed it to her.
<
br />   At her puzzled look, he pointed to a small mirror. “Take off the hat.”

  Kelly gasped.

  The once-gray hair now had streaks of vibrant red. Her magick was fading. Next she’d start growing breasts and curves and...

  “How long does your shape-shifting hold out?” he asked.

  She thought of the one previous attempt as she bound her head in the scarf as if her head were bandaged, hiding all her hair. “Two, three hours, maybe. I’ve never held it this long. Maybe when you bonded us together, it enhanced my magick.”

  His gaze sharpened as her stomach growled. “You need to refuel. I’ll find a restaurant.”

  “So much for the man being in charge,” she grumbled softly, replacing the hat.

  Sam gave a soft laugh. “I am.”

  Bypassing several smaller, quaint restaurants, he selected a larger one with a mixture of Europeans and locals. Sam chose an isolated table against the wall and faced the entrance.

  The waitress came and took their drink orders. Sam’s rugged confidence outshone her own. Even disguised, he held the attitude of a tough SEAL who could break an enemy’s neck with less fuss than a woman breaking a fingernail.

  Her nervousness grew. “We should have gone someplace smaller.”

  “It’s safer here in a crowd,” he explained, leaning on the table and scanning the room.

  Get back into character, she thought. “Elbows off the table, Maria. A lady never slouches.”

  He shot her a dirty look.

  Opening her menu, Kelly considered. “I’ll order for you, Maria. You don’t know what a woman likes to eat. You have no taste.”

  “Maybe I don’t know what a woman likes in the kitchen, but I sure as hell know what she enjoys in the bedroom. Especially a certain redhead who screams my name when I indulge my palate in a very special way.”

  A wicked gleam entered those dark eyes. Heat crawled over her face. He would remember that. “As I recall, that particular dining experience resulted in a few satisfactory exclamations.”