by Michele Hauf
Mireio turned off the ignition and the lights. Her car was parked beside a weeping willow tree. She could drive home and leave him to sulk. Was he embarrassed? Probably at a loss as to why he was shifting without volition. The man was in pain, and he needed someone to hold him.
Would he let her in?
Hopping out of the truck, she swung her purse over a shoulder and stepped up to the threshold before the cabin. No lights on inside. She lifted her hand to knock, but couldn’t do it.
Moonlight glinted on her silver rings. She touched the larimar crystal entwined within a platinum wire-wrap, wishing she had a water spell to make him feel better. A bath always made her feel better after a rough day.
She wouldn’t be so stupid as to suggest a bath to soak away his insurmountable worries. And Lars’s days would only get worse. He had to be careful if the shift were to again attack without his volition. Perhaps stop going near humans.
Sighing, she turned away from the door. And then heard him call from inside, “Come in. Please.”
* * *
She entered the cabin quietly, seeming to walk on the balls of her feet so her heels wouldn’t click too loudly. She stood there, acclimating to the darkness.
Lars lay on the bed, curled in on himself. The shift had come on him so suddenly that he couldn’t stop it. He’d felt so helpless. Yet, thankfully, even in werewolf shape he’d recognized the truck and known she’d wanted him to get in. He’d felt small and defeated as she’d driven him home. Shifting back to were shape beside her, he had felt more naked than when he stood before her when making love to her. Exposed and wretched.
He still didn’t want to talk. But he did need to feel her against him. Mireio was his safe place.
He stretched out an arm and she walked over to take his hand. “Stay?” he asked.
She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed and cuddled up against him. Kissing his forehead, she then pulled his hand up to her mouth and held it there, her lips sealing warmth onto his skin.
“Sleep,” she said. “I’m here.”
Chapter 14
Mireio stayed at the cabin to make breakfast for Lars while he went for a morning run to pick up Peanut from the compound and bring him home for Mireio to feed a bottle.
He immediately headed out again, feeling he’d not spent enough time outside and mostly because he still didn’t know what to say to her about what had happened last night. He felt like a failure. A werewolf who couldn’t control his own shifts? There were no curse words strong enough for that one.
Tracking through the woods on the path he’d beaten down over years of running—both in his were, or man, shape and wolf shape—he suddenly realized the moon had been very round last night. It must be close to the full moon. Well, he knew it was. He’d been horny as hell lately. Of course, he had good reason with such a gorgeous witch as his girlfriend.
He smiled at that. He had a girlfriend. And life was good when he was with her. But if the moon reached fullness tonight or tomorrow, that meant he’d have to let out his werewolf, no matter what. Had it been full last night? Was that why he’d shifted? No, it hadn’t felt like the moon pull shift. That moment in the alleyway he’d been completely out of control of his body. A passenger who hadn’t signed up for the wild ride.
Stopping and bending forward to catch his hands on his knees, he panted. A lot. Normally his casual jog didn’t wind him so much. He wasn’t going to consider that he was growing weaker. It wasn’t right.
“Screw this.” He turned and raced down the path toward the cabin, pushing full speed and pumping his arms.
Five minutes later he wandered to the back of the cabin, wheezing and coughing. He sat on the log splitting stump and hung his head. If he was going to die, he wished for it to happen quickly. No long endless days of suffering. Or to be bedridden?
“No, please...no.”
He’d never imagined that death could be humiliating, but if he were reduced to a feeble invalid, that would be the worst possible condition. He wasn’t sure he could face that.
But he would. He had to. For Peanut. And his girlfriend.
Suddenly a bee landed on the ground right beside his bare foot. Its wings buzzed but its furred body was slick with wet.
“Poor guy.” He bent to gently stroke the tips of the bee’s wings. “All tuckered out after a morning dew bath? I know the feeling.”
He turned his hand palm up and nudged it beside the bee. The insect climbed onto his hand and sat there, content to soak up Lars’s innate warmth.
He lifted his hand and studied the bee. Its big black eyes took him in, antennae flickering. “You live such a short lifetime, and yet you accomplish so much. You, my sweet little worker bee, are remarkable.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “What have I accomplished?”
Nothing of significance came to mind.
Standing, he padded over to the hive, his passenger still in for the ride. He set his hand at the entrance and waited until the bee climbed off and into the hive. There she would be warmed by hundreds of her fellow worker bees and then could return to collecting pollen. Accomplishing so much.
Did he have to leave a mark on the world before he left? He wanted... He wanted so much for his son that he might never be able to give him. Mercy. What would become of Peanut when he was gone?
“Lars?”
Mireio walked around the side of the cabin. He sucked in his winded breaths and gave her a nod.
She carried a wide-eyed Peanut, who chewed on the teething ring. “I’m sorry, but I forgot to mention last night that I need to go in early this morning. I’m brewing some IPA. I left breakfast for you on the table. Peanut has had a bottle and he’s burped. Loudly.” She handed the baby to him and he reached for him, but knew he wouldn’t be able to hold him securely. His fingers tingled, as did his feet.
“Could you bring him in and lay him in the crib for a nap?” he asked.
She assessed him momentarily, then nodded. “Of course. You going to be able to eat?” she called back as she made haste toward the cabin door.
“I sure hope so,” he muttered, forcing himself to walk. The going was slow. With every step the sensation in his feet decreased. But he made it to the front door, where Mireio kissed him quickly. She was acting brisk and he sensed she was in a hurry.
“Your fingers again?” she asked.
“And my feet.” He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. Call me if you need anything. Can I come over after work?”
“I’d like that. Uh, but, Mireio, what day is it? I mean, do you know when the moon is full?”
“Tomorrow!” she offered gleefully. “I know you wolves shift on the night of the full moon.”
“Sometimes the day before and after too. I’m going to shift tonight. Or I’d like to.”
“Does that mean I get to watch Peanut? Because I’d love to.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He kissed her, but didn’t lift his now completely numb hand to touch her.
“See you later. Remember to call if you need anything!” She wandered over to her car and turned it around and drove down the winding drive.
And Lars fell to sit on the threshold because he could no longer stand on feet he could not feel.
* * *
Around four in the afternoon Mireio popped her head up from cleaning the stainless-steel brew tank and waved as Valor strolled in. The brewery didn’t open until five, and Valor had the night shift.
“Here to help,” Valor called as she tossed her backpack behind the bar and leaned over the sink, plunging her hands into the soapy water.
“I appreciate it when you come in early to help clean. You know Geneva would never think of doing such a thing.”
“Well, hey, my hands are covered in motor grease so I
figured all this sanitizing solution will cut that and get me clean in the process.”
“Just don’t get it on the parts,” Mireio warned as she decided the tank was clean, and she could now move on to disconnecting the remaining hoses that led from tank to tank and run those through the wash. She really should concoct a spell to automate the process, but she felt the equipment got cleaner when it was hand washed, not...spell washed.
Valor’s long chestnut hair, streaked with blue of late, was queued back in a loose ponytail. She wore combat boots, short jeans cutoffs, a Decadent Dames T-shirt and strands of talismans hung from leather cords about her neck. She was the tomboy of the group and generally did the heavy lifting and liked to close.
Mireio joined her at the sinks and started rinsing the items Valor had washed. They were stainless-steel clamps and rings and assorted parts she broke down and cleaned after every brew. The cleaning part was the most tedious, but with a helping hand things went quick enough.
“So I hear you’ve got a new man,” Valor said. “A wolf?”
“Yes, Lars Gunderson.”
“Yeah, Sunday told me about you two. I’ve spoken to him a time or two when I needed help with my bees. Very quiet. But man, is he a big one, and sexy.”
“He’s almost twice the size of me, and I adore every inch of him.”
“Cool. So you two getting serious? Because I know that Sunday babysits for him. A single father? That’s gotta make for some interesting dates.”
“The two of us serious? I hope so. I really like him, Valor. And the baby thing doesn’t bother me at all. You know how much I love kids.”
“You do, but that doesn’t mean you have to become the kid’s mom.”
“I didn’t say I was going to do that. But a man with a baby is not a deal breaker. You would be amazed at what a kind and gentle dad Lars is. So attentive to Peanut.”
Valor chuckled. “I can’t get over that name. Every time Sunday mentions him I laugh.”
“The mother didn’t give the baby a name.”
“Crazy. You know how all this affects Sunday, don’t you?”
Mireio held a dripping clamp over the water. Other than knowing the facts about cats and wolves mating, she hadn’t thought beyond that. “Why? Did she and Lars have a thing? I thought she and Dean had been married awhile?”
“It’s the baby thing. Cat shifters can’t have werewolf babies. Just isn’t possible.”
“I know that.”
“So Sunday will never be able to have Dean’s children. And even though she acts like it’s no big thing, she wants a baby. So while she loves babysitting, it also tears her apart having to hand that kid back over to Lars. And now you.”
“Oh, no. Did she say something about me? Is she...jealous of me? I’m not trying to be the baby’s mom. But, well, Sunday shouldn’t be either.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s her little weirdness she needs to work out. So don’t take it wrong if she acts strange around you, okay?”
“I won’t. I’ll try not to. But could they adopt?”
“They had considered asking Lars about adopting the boy. But Sunday quickly realized that would have been awkward to the nines. Both men in the same pack and someone else raising his kid?”
“Lars would have never let that happen. He’s in love with Peanut. He’ll raise him alone no matter what—oh, my goddess.”
“What?”
“I hadn’t given the baby’s future a thought. Oh. What’s he going to do now about Peanut?”
“Mireio, you’re freaking me out. And you’re shaking.” She took a heavy steel ring from her and set it aside. “What’s up?”
“Oh, Valor.” Mireio turned and leaned her hips against the sink, pushing the hair from her face. “Lars has this thing. A werewolf disease. It’s rare. Hereditary. His dad died from it. The doctor gave him only a few months to live.”
“Whoa. And you’re getting involved in all this? I know you like to take care of people and are compassionate, but are you sure about this, sweetie?”
“I am.” And she was. “But what will happen to Peanut if Lars were to die?”
“Then Sunday and Dean could adopt him.”
“Oh, my goddess, what am I saying? I don’t want him to die.” She turned and gripped the edge of the sink.
“Oh...uh...hmm...” Valor spread an arm across Mireio’s back. Of the witchy quartet, she was the least comfortable with hugging and had always claimed she didn’t have much empathy.
“He’s so young, you know? This isn’t fair. And he’s just gotten this beautiful little baby that makes him happy. I know it’s what puts the smile on his face every day. Here I’ve been sad because he has to go through something like this. But I didn’t consider the struggle he must be facing knowing he may not be around to watch his son grow up. He can’t die, Valor. He can’t!”
She turned and hugged her friend. Even as she sensed Valor’s initial reluctance, Vaolr soon returned the hug and smoothed a wet hand across Mireio’s back.
“What did the doctor say?” Valor asked. “Can he take something for it? Is it like cancer? Can he do chemo or radiation?”
“No, it’s degenerative. No pills or chemicals can stop it. He’s got neuropathy and he loses feeling in his hands and feet. And last night he shifted without volition. He can’t control his werewolf. It scares him. It scares me. I want to be there for him. But I feel so helpless. This morning I wanted to wrap him in my arms and tell him it was going to be all right, but I could sense he didn’t want that from me, so I tried to do the nonchalant thing. He puts on this stoic werewolf act. I’m tough. Don’t treat me like an invalid. How can I help him?”
“Have you tried healing him?”
Mireio pulled away from Valor. “You know I’m not a healer. I wouldn’t have the skill or the power.”
“Well, neither am I. But I have been known to bring a drowned faery back to life with my pitiful healing skills. And what if we combined our powers? Geneva is a master healer. I know we witches can’t give back life or raise the dead, but...he’s not dead yet. Maybe we could infuse Lars with some life-sustaining magic?”
“Oh, my goddess, I think it would be worth a try. But Eryss is in California now.”
“As long as we have a triad, we’re good.”
“Right! Oh, I wonder if Lars would let us try?”
“Ask him. I mean, sure he’s putting up a front, trying to act all tough and cool. But you gotta think the man would be desperate to try anything to stay alive.”
“I’ll ask him. Oh, he has to agree to it. I’m not sure if it’ll work, but we can’t not try, right?”
“I’m in,” Valor confirmed with a fist bump to Mireio’s wet fist. “And I’ll make sure Geneva won’t say no. Just let us know when you need us.”
Mireio hugged her again. “I love you. Thank you!”
“Sure, but chill on the hugs, will you? I think I got enough hugging to last me a year now.”
* * *
Mireio hadn’t had much time for baking lately, so after picking up some things for supper to make at Lars’s place, she stopped into a local sweet shop near the brewery and, after much debating over the triple chocolate bomb and the cherry pistachio cream delight, she went with the chocolate. It was a small cake, but it would serve the two of them. Or rather, it would serve a big hungry wolf, and offer enough for a taste for his girlfriend.
When she arrived at Lars’s cabin, he met her at the door and grabbed the bags she was carrying, only kissing her quickly. He set the bags on the counter and started unpacking them. “I didn’t expect you this early.”
It was after six. She couldn’t determine if he was angry or busy. “I usually finish up at the brewery around three or four. Valor stopped in to help me clean today. Where’s...oh, there you are, Peanut.”
&
nbsp; The baby lay on a blanket before the couch beneath the bright plastic toddler gym. He kicked his legs eagerly when she sat next to him and tugged one of his toes. “You look so happy! Were you and Daddy playing before I got here?”
“He just got up from a nap,” Lars offered over his shoulder. He had unpacked all the groceries and now seemed a little too concerned over the food, remaining by the counter with his back to her.
Mireio kissed the baby’s exposed belly. “You’re a little tub, you know that? A little tub! What do you say to that, Loki?”
She waited for Lars to react, but he was studying the red pepper she’d brought for the enchiladas.
“So that’s a good one?” she asked, again waiting for a reply. “Lars?”
“What’s that?”
She got up and walked over to the counter and he grabbed the onion and opened the fridge door. “Do you like the name Loki? Lars? What’s up with you? Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine.” He finally turned and, even with the hair falling over the side of his face, she noticed the red streak by his eye. “I’ll maybe take Peanut out for a walk while you make supper.”
“Wait.” She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. The red mark was actually a cut and it looked new. “When did you cut yourself? Right before I got here?” Because she knew werewolves healed quickly, sometimes almost instantaneously.
“Mireio, I said it was nothing.”
She grabbed his hands and did not back down. Without saying a word, she peered behind the shadows in his gaze and coaxed up the truth.
“Fine. I...might have fainted right before you got here. I came to right away. So like I said. Nothing.” He tugged out of her grip and stomped over to collect Peanut.
“Nothing? Lars, you fainted? What if you had been holding Peanut?”
“I wasn’t.” He turned with an air of anger darkening his expression. “It’s happened twice now, and I know that right before it happens I get a weird feeling of dread. So if it ever happens when I’m holding Peanut, I’ll set him in the crib.”
She put a hand to her hip. That was an utterly ridiculous defense and he knew it. But if she pressed him, she would only push him away. So she forced herself to nod. “I get it. No big deal. You’ve got everything under control. Why don’t you give me half an hour to get supper ready? Are the two of you going far?” She realized what he’d think of that question only after it had come out.
