by Jane Ederlyn
Odin glanced down at her feet.
“You might want to change your shoes.”
Marie didn’t own sneakers, but she exchanged her heels for moderate wedge boots and packed a few things into a picnic basket and a large Louis Vuitton tote before Odin ushered her out the door.
Abby looked up in surprise. “Where are you going?”
“For a run,” Marie said.
Abby frowned. “You aren’t going too far, are you? It’s late.”
Odin pulled on Abby’s ponytail. “Bee,” he said drawing out the name, “you worry too much.”
Chapter XXX
“You’re going to like this,” Odin said.
“Perhaps.” Marie smiled. “Are we there yet?”
Odin grinned back. “Actually, yes.” He turned off the motor, hopped out of the driver’s seat, and scanned the horizon and night sky. The almost full moon was set in a nest of light. It emitted a thin halo of gold and illuminated clouds in varying shades of gray.
He came around and opened Marie’s door, effortlessly lifting her out. With her body mere inches from his, he teased her by leaning into her. She batted her lashes and leered at him such that he lost patience with his own game and seized her lips with his mouth.
The kiss started playful as he sucked and gently nipped at her bottom lip but quickly turned hard and purposeful. Marie pushed him back, to look at his face. She felt his entire body zinging, affected by checked emotions and the charge of the moon’s call. She had little experience with lycanthropy. This was all new to her, but she could feel his beast struggling to get out, and she wanted to see it.
“There’s a clearing nearby. We can have a midnight picnic,” he said.
Marie looked around. They were in the Everglades, a subtropical wetland of mangroves, cypresses, and sawgrass marshes. They were in the park, miles from any major road and especially, miles from any human contact. They were in one of the dry areas. Except for the mild chirping of crickets and the rustling of a foraging raccoon, it was quiet and peaceful. They left the vehicle and walked deeper inward, toward the clearing, jumping flooded patches; the moon and its reflection shown on the water like streams within a pool.
“The moon has a powerful pull for us . . .” Odin’s voice trailed off as he raised his face to the sky.
“It is time.” Marie finished his thought and began unbuttoning his shirt. To her surprise, she found more hair and his skin was even warmer than usual. She stroked his chest before lowering her hands to his belt. She undid the buckle and lowered his zipper.
Small beads of sweat collected on his brow and his breathing quickened. “Are you going to join me?” he asked in a near growl.
She shook her head. Immediately, his bones started shifting with pops and cracks. She could see his muscles contracting. His arms lengthened and he stepped away from her.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, trying to compare when he last shifted to now.
“It’s effortless most of the time, unless the moon is pulling and then it hurts not to.”
“Then shift.”
“These are my favorite jeans.” He stepped out of the denims in a jerky, clumsy move. When he was nude, under the gaze of the bright moon, he howled. The sound echoed and circled upward. “This feels so good,” he said, voice husky.
Before her eyes, the blue in his irises disappeared as if swallowed by pupils that shrunk then expanded into a bed of glowing yellow amber.
Marie watched with curiosity as his body transformed, first growing in height and then growing a soft, silver down pelt over most of his body. She chuckled to herself, noticing that a patch of hair strategically but naturally covered his manhood. His face was last to change. His nose lengthened into a muzzle and canines extended past thinned lips. His features were a mixture of man and wolf. Transformation complete, his chest rose and fell with fast, deep breaths.
Although his eyes were a different color, she knew she would always be able to recognize him. Odin’s soul remained inside this creature that stood so tall above her. Marie stepped closer and touched him lightly on the chest. The werewolf looked down, directly into her eyes, and nodded. With that, he dropped to all fours and ran off, the moonlight dancing on his bare skin.
Marie circled the clearing, taking in her surroundings before taking out a pale-blue blanket and corresponding silk pillows, arranging the items around her like a spa lounge. To complete the ambiance, she lit a lavender candle, absorbing the flowery scent as it wafted up in a curl of smoke.
She removed her clothes, folded them carefully, and then lay down on her back to stare at the stars. They were a constant in her life. Despite the city or the year, she could trace the patterns of light in the sky and know in the constant turnover of life, something else in the world, stayed the same.
Another rustle broke the silence and Marie sat up, alert. She relaxed when she saw that it was Odin. He ran toward her, upright, with something in his hands. She stared at the wiggling body and tail of an opossum. He extended his arm to her. She looked up into his eyes, puzzled.
“I do not understand.”
He barked at her and pushed the animal at her again.
Recognition hit her like a swinging hatchet and she swallowed down her repugnance. He’d caught something and was offering it to her. “Thank you,” she said and took the opossum from him.
Satisfied, Odin took off again. She waited. When she could no longer see him, she released the little marsupial. It was smart enough to quickly scramble away.
She heard a snapping of twigs coming from a clump of Southern Live Oaks. When she didn’t see Odin emerge, she figured it was the opossum, another raccoon, or perhaps an alligator. She listened but detected nothing else. When she heard a crunching to the right of the trees, she whipped about to find Odin emerging from the darkness, taking shape with every lunge of his powerful legs.
Chest heaving with exertion and excitement, he sat next to Marie, looking immense in the square of material. He snuffed out the candle with his foot and then sniffed her hair and neck. He moved closer and nudged her head playfully. Then his large claw-hand gently and carefully pushed her back onto the pillows.
She smiled as he transformed back into a man—her man. She was still smiling when he entered her.
“You smell,” she said after lovemaking.
“Like lavender?” he asked with a wicked glint.
“No, like swamp.”
“Then don’t breathe.”
She gave him a sideways look. “What have you been doing?”
“Chasing anything that would run.”
“What do you do when you catch it?”
“I let it go.”
“Do all your packmates do the same?”
“No. Some eat what they catch.” He could have expanded on his answer, but vampires were predators as well and he knew she understood.
“So the machinations are as different amongst individual vampires as they are amongst individual werewolves,” Marie said, her thoughts turning serious. “What are we, Odin? Are we demi-gods or abominations?”
“Neither.”
She tossed the thought around as if she hadn’t been contemplating it for hundreds of years. “I am human. Human with benefits.”
“We are immortals and your term benefit is an understatement.”
“Am I then a reanimated corpse for your enjoyment? You don’t think I am human at all?” When he didn’t speak, she continued. “What I do is for survival, and rarely does the person suffer any permanent consequence. Really now, do humans not eat cows?” Marie sat up and looked down at Odin’s outstretched body beside her.
“I was attacked and some disease was transferred to me then, and this is the result of it. Some humans have diseases that make them age faster, I have one that doesn’t, a
nd you have genes that don’t.”
“Simple.” He took in a deep breath.
“No, Odin, it’s complicated, as with all species on this earth, there are varieties in the composition of the soul.”
“Soul?”
“The entity, spirit, whatever you want to name it. I had to find a reason for why this occurred. I couldn’t leave it to a simple act of violence. My life was changed, I wasn’t given the choice to live or die. I had to leave my life and family behind forever.” Her voice lowered with past resentments. “It has been difficult on many occasions and lonely.”
“You won’t be lonely anymore. You have a handsome werewolf who’s hot for you, and I’ll be around for a very long time.”
His smile was intoxicating and it had the usual effect on her.
“Really?”
“Yes, a very, very, long time.”
Marie touched his face, rough with hair growth. He was treating the subject matter lightly. Perhaps he was still too caught up in the moon or maybe he didn’t understand her position? He had been born to his life. It was his birthright and he knew no other way. And he could walk in daylight. She had not been born to this and was confined to the night. She remembered being human. All human.
She took in a breath and expelled it quickly, her face contorting in displeasure. “You still smell.”
“Don’t breathe.”
“I am rethinking this very, very, long time concept.”
“Really? Are you questioning my handsomeness, my lycanthropy, or my devotion to you?”
She raised a brow.
“Werewolves always get the short end of the stick. Vampires always get the limelight, the good clothes, succubus groupies, and they get the girl, sometimes even stolen from a werewolf,” he complained.
“True” Marie agreed. “But you have to admit that Dracula is sexy. So is Eric, that Viking Sheriff that Abby is always reading to me about. Delicious. It’s a shame he’s fiction.”
“I’m a Viking and I’m real.” Odin glared at Marie as prickles crawled down his skin.
“Are you jealous?”
He shook his head in denial, and they both erupted in laughter.
“I can’t believe I’m jealous of someone who doesn’t exist.”
“Or do they?”
“Don’t,” he growled. “Who does Bee like? Is she also in love with the Viking Sheriff?”
Marie’s mouth turned up. “Of course she fancies him, but her favorite has always been Mr. Darcy.”
“Can’t see why?”
“You read the book?”
He blushed. “No, but I saw the movie.”
“You have been alive for a thousand years and never read Austen?”
“I’ve been busy.” He flashed her a crooked smile.
“The passage of time always amazes me. Jane Austen was an acquaintance of my son. If only I had known that one day she would be my Abigail’s favorite.”
“Do you have anything left from your past?”
“Very little. It is hard to keep possessions when you must go from place to place and elude recognition.” She fingered her necklace.
He captured her hand and kissed it. Moonlight danced off the diamond pendant making it spring to life in a dazzling, snowy kaleidoscope. “But you managed to transfer your money, surely you were able to do the same with valuables?”
“A few. The gravity of possessions, not familial, do not always appear important until they are long gone.”
Marie’s cell phone alarm shrieked, punctuating the blanket of stillness around them.
“What is that?” Odin asked.
“Dawn is near. We should go.” Reluctantly she stood.
As they dressed an almost imperceptible sound floated across to them. Odin spun around. “Quiet.” He cocked his head, inhaled sharply then rushed the trees.
“An animal?” she asked from behind him.
“I thought I told you to stay?”
“No, you told me to be quiet.”
“A werewolf has been here?”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his face as if to clear his senses.
“Some of us come here to run and the scents are all mixed up. Maybe Egon could pick up an identity, but all I get is were.”
“I do not like this.”
“Neither do I. Wait here, I’m going to look around a little more.”
“Odin, we have to go.”
“I won’t be long.” He sprung over a tree root and into the darkness.
She walked back to collect their items when her phone rang. She looked down at the incoming number and answered.
“Where are you?” Abby asked in a voice thick with sleep.
“Do not worry on my behalf, ma chérie.”
“Don’t worry? It’s almost dawn and you’re not home, how else am I to feel?”
“I am staying with Odin,” Marie lied as she glanced around for a sight of him. Time had escaped her, but she didn’t want Abby to worry.
“Is that a good idea? The condo is all windows.”
Abby’s voice went in and out and the phone crackled with static. So deep into the Everglades, cell reception wasn’t dependable.
“I am fine. Get some sleep and I shall see you at sunset, ma chérie.” Marie looked at the sky. There wasn’t enough time to get to either her house or Odin’s, and they weren’t in the Bentley where she could sleep in the trunk. She had been caught up with Odin and now she was in trouble. She had lived like this for over two hundred years. She knew better. She had no one to blame but herself.
She contemplated calling Abby back and asking her to bring the Bentley but dismissed the idea. No matter how fast Abby drove, the Glades were tricky, and she wouldn’t arrive in time.
Marie looked up again and her fingers traced the outline of the white orb. “Please hang on a little longer,” she supplicated.
Odin rejoined her with eyes more gold than blue. “Did you say something?”
“Odin.” She was unable to keep her desperation from her voice, and he was by her in an instant.
“What’s wrong?” The moon dipped, releasing its hold on him. He glanced up and comprehension flashed across his features. “Go!”
She contemplated burying herself in the earth but dismissed it. The ground was too wet and shallow to provide any protection. With a flip of her wrist that sent everything flying, she pulled the blanket up and wrapped the meager cover around her as she ran.
She tripped on the uneven surface but stayed upright, fighting sluggishness with sheer force-of-will. Almost at the truck, her strength drained out of her like the sudden unplugging of a tub. Irrepressible drowsiness stole control of her limbs and she stumbled and dropped.
At her heels, Odin caught her in mid-air and pressed her securely to his chest. He bypassed the passenger door and shoved her into the rear, stalling only long enough to adjust the blanket around her.
“Odin,” she managed, his name barely more than a breath, before everything went black.
Odin gunned the engine and raced the sun out of the Everglades. The smoky tints on his Escalade were intended for privacy not sun proofing. Thankfully, dense clouds stretched across the sky promising rain and, more importantly, filtering the sun’s potency. Still, he didn’t know how much was too much. He had been stupid, caught up in a meaningless scent. His fists clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel. He would never forget Marie’s face, the fear like an ugly slash across her delicate features, or the sight of her falling like a rag doll, limp and utterly helpless.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He glanced at the sky. As if on cue, rain started falling in huge drops that splattered noisily against the windshield. He turned on the wipers. “You c
an trust me.”
A mile from the compound, Odin dialed Lagmann’s cell phone. It rang six times before the other man answered with a gruff, “What?”
“Bring a body bag and meet me by the barn.”
“What have you done?”
“I said now!”
At the compound, Odin skidded to a halt behind the armory. Camouflaged against the greenery with olive paint, the armory was the only building referred to as the barn despite being one of the few that didn’t actually house animals.
He erupted out of the Escalade as the barn’s double doors slid open and Lagmann appeared. “What’s going on?”
Odin didn’t have an ounce of patience for the reproach in his friend’s voice. He ripped the bag out of Lagmann’s hands and climbed back into the SUV. Slamming the door shut, he pushed down the last row of seats until he could access the trunk, and in the cramped space, positioned Marie on the black vinyl and zippered her in. She whimpered.
“Sorry, beautiful.”
Lagmann bent to look into the Cadillac. “What the fuck was that?”
“Are you going to just stand there or help me?” Odin kicked the vehicle door open and jumped into mud with her in his arms.
The rain had slowed, but drops weaved and trickled down branches and tapped on the metal roof of the barn.
Dressed in jogging sweat pants and a baseball cap, Lagmann’s bare chest glistened with moisture, and his eyes glittered with incredulity. “Tell me that isn’t Marie.”
Odin expelled a hot breath. Rain glued his hair to his face and streamed down his temple in rivulets. When a drop fell on his eyelash, he shook his head, spraying water. “I’d love to have tea and cookies, bro, but I’m a little busy right now.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Take the lead and make sure the coast is clear to my room.”
