Make Me Howl

by Susan Shay

  Bella gave me a hard look. “I’ll drive. No telling where you’d take us, given the chance.”

  We waited near a glass wall as a young man brought our vehicle. A new Hummer H3, pure white. “Did you get white for camouflage? So we can hide in the snow?”

  “I leased the Hummer because I wanted to be sure we’d have four-wheel drive and wouldn’t get stuck in the snow. The rental company chose the color.”

  She set the course on the Global Positioning System and pulled out of the lot. Thank God for GPS, because normally Bella can’t find her way around the Metroplex, much less through a different state filled with mountains. And snow.

  Once we were on the highway, through Denver and heading west, we picked up some speed. The road signs flashed past faster and faster. Hit with a deep yearning to feel the fresh wind on my face, I rolled down the window.

  The temperature had cooled considerably since we’d exited the plane. My ears numbed almost immediately, but who cared? I had air in my face and flowing through my hair. Exhilarating freedom filled me, spiking my spirits. I was almost as free as if I were flying.

  “No.” Bella’s gruff bark plummeted me back to earth.

  Jerking around, I glared at her. “Why—”

  Before I could finish my question, she’d rolled up my window and turned on the child locks.

  I couldn’t believe my sister. Usually very malleable, since she’d realized I was under the effect of a Blood Moon and in heat, she’d turned into a real dictator.

  It was difficult to blame her for being so worried since I’d never before gone through both afflictions at the same time. All I’d experienced was one malady at a time, and that was bad enough!

  Reaching in my bag, I pulled out my planner, which showed the lunar phases. I hadn’t read it wrong. We were coming to the time when the moon’s influence over me would be strongest—the phase of an eclipse.

  Being filled with Blood Moon energy was tantamount to putting too much helium in a balloon. The pressure grew more and more as we drove that day, making me want to jet into the sky, zoom along the ground, ricochet around a room, anything to expend some of it. My laugh grew loud, my ideas outlandish and my words something like a machine gun set on rapid fire.

  By the time we arrived at Snowstorm, I could barely sit still. While Bella checked us in, I strolled—if you can call speed walking on well-packed snow a stroll—around the grounds. We’d been there before, back when I was a teen, but the spa had changed immensely. From the looks of things, mainly the rich and famous spent time there these days.

  A heated pool and Jacuzzi steamed outside, and there was another, warmer, glass enclosed pool nearby. A gigantic greenhouse, built in the shape of a Victorian mansion and filled with plants, sat at the edge of the property. New buildings had sprouted everywhere, but they all looked as though they’d been there since about the time the mountains were born. Nothing new, garish or shiny about them.

  At the back of the lodge where we’d be staying were the ski slopes. We could literally walk out the backdoor, put on skis and whiz off for the day.

  Getting back when we were finished was almost that easy. A chairlift to the top of the mountain, and from there it was simple to ski back to the lodge. Or if a skier was too tired or inexperienced to take the more difficult slopes from the top, a shuttle could bring them.

  I waited in the car when Bella got back patting my foot in annoyance by the time she started it. “Did they have our reservation?”

  “Yes.” When I shifted into blasting-words-mode, why did she speak in slo-mo?

  “Full living room? Two bedrooms? Shower or tub?” Rat-a-tat tat.

  “Full living room, big screen TV, shower and Jacuzzi tub. But I asked for a one bedroom, two queens.” I could have climbed Mount Everest in the time it took her to finish.

  “One? One bedroom?” I screeched. “That’s ridiculous! Why would you ask for one bedroom? You knew I’d want time alone.”

  Not only were her words slow, so was her smile and the light that shifted to brighten her eyes. “Of course I knew you’d want privacy, and that’s exactly why I got one bedroom. To protect you from…that.”

  Anger exploded in my chest, leaving a prickle of something on my skin. Sweat or bristle, I wasn’t sure. “Who do you think you are? My keeper? My trainer? Did you bring a leash and a muzzle, too?”

  Somewhere in a detached part of my mind, I noticed the sun drifting toward the western horizon, turning the snow a delicate shade of apricot while the sky darkened from blue to purple. In just minutes, the apricot would become a dramatic shade of peach, then flame to burnt orange while the sky would shift to indigo.

  That’s about the time my private chorus began to hum. Inaudible to anyone but me, it sounded as if the Mormon Tabernacle Choir gathered around me, singing a chord. In a moment, a single member of the bass section would slide into discord. In the balance of the music, it wasn’t much, but it would be enough to raise my hackles.

  Literally.

  Bella put the car in park.

  “Let’s get unloaded. Fast.” I shoved open the door and rushed to the back to grab our bags. Not bothering to wait for her, I snatched the suitcases, slammed the door with a hipshot and headed for the entrance.

  Bella hurried to catch up. “Let me take something.”

  “Just get the doors.” I marched on, trying to expend a bit of my scorching energy.

  Bella scurried ahead, barely getting the door open before I swung through.

  I gave the lobby a swift glance. Opulence everywhere—crystal chandeliers, golden oak floors, plush furniture, fireplaces and lots of brass. “Which floor?”

  “This one. Room 111.”

  I gave a growl of acceptance, low and deep. One, one, one. The only one. I was alone. Oh, there’d been others. My maternal grandmother, for instance. And probably her grandmother. But for now, I was the only. Lost in a world of snow.

  And growing very, very hungry.

  By the time we were in the room, the fur was shoving its way through my skin. Knowing how horrified Bella became during my transformations, I excused myself as if I were going to the bathroom, which was off the bedroom. As I walked into the room, I saw my salvation. A door to the outside world.

  Hoping Bella wouldn’t enter anytime soon, I luxuriated in my change. Strength turned my muscles to steel. No longer did the energy surging through me hurt as if I were an overfilled beach ball. Now it belonged inside me. It made me powerful.

  Before I had no choice but to drop to all fours, I opened that door then let the effect of the rising moon take me.

  Exhilarated, I raised my face in adulation. With a long howl for Bella, I bounded into the night.

  ****

  Darkness encompassed me. As if the night were made of rich satin, I savored that absence of light…until something started making a horrific noise. Very heavy and slightly off balance, my head was as hard to lift as if someone had filled it with quicksilver.

  The noise came again, someone hammering in the next room. I opened one eye. Through a red haze, I realized I wasn’t at home. After a moment I remembered where I was. And why.

  I glanced at the other bed in the room. Empty. And Bella, the good little nun, had even made it. When the knocking grew louder, I yanked back the sheet and lunged to my feet. Just in time I saw my nakedness. Ripping the sheet from the mattress, I tucked it around me, stormed out of the bedroom to the living room, ready to give Bella a piece of my mind for not keeping things quiet.

  No Bella. And with the kitchen adjacent, I could easily see it was empty, too. Even the coffee pot was empty.

  Again, someone knocked. I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming and jerked the door open.

  There in the hallway stood a woman, about fifty years old, judging by her hair color, with very red eyes and a soggy tissue. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for my Bijou.”

  “Your what?” I briefly wondered if this was a joke, but another glance at the woman,
shaped like an Easter egg with legs, and I knew she was deadly serious.

  “My Bijou. She’s a Maltese.” I must have looked blank, because she kept explaining. “A dog, about this tall, all white. My husband says she looks like a dust mop without a handle.”

  As she talked, her voice tightened, rising so high, I thought she was going to howl. Tears filled her eyes then poured down her cheeks. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

  Unnecessarily, I looked at my feet and behind me. “No Bijous in here.”

  The woman nodded then sucked a tear-filled breath. “No, I know. But your sister said you were out late last night, and I thought maybe you’d seen her then.”

  A heavy weight settled in my stomach. I tried to remember, but drew a blank. Had I seen the pooch? I could only hope I hadn’t, because what a wolf could do to a squeaky lap dog wasn’t pretty.

  I swallowed hard as I shook my head. “N-not that I remember. But you might check outside, behind the spa. Maybe she slipped on a steep slope and couldn’t get back.”

  Her face brightened. “Good idea. I looked out front, but didn’t think about the slopes, since I don’t use them.”

  With a quick pat on my bare shoulder, she rushed away. I shut the door and headed for the shower. When I was finished and wrapped in two towels, one for my hair and one for my body, I wandered back to the bedroom to dig through my suitcase for something to wear.

  I was certain Bella had unpacked the night before—as usual—but I hated unpacking and repacking after just a few days. When I’d found the jeans and sweater I wanted, I slipped into my underwear then put on my clothes. Facing the mirror, I quickly wove my hair into a French braid.

  Bella walked into the condo with a man, wearing a tool belt, following her. She gave me a long glance. After a moment, she pointed at the door to the outside. “Right there is where I want the deadbolt. And I’ll take the key.”

  Without even glancing at me, the man nodded, handed her the key and went to work. I wondered what she’d said to keep him from at least looking my way then remembered where we were. At a spa, filled with women year around, most of whom were rich and famous, he’d probably had to learn how to focus and stay on task no matter what.

  Sitting on Bella’s perfect bed, I pulled on my shoes. Just to be sisterly, I messed up the quilt a little when I stood.

  The workman swung the door open to do something to the outside. Bella folded her arms to ward off the icy air coming in, but I stepped closer. I couldn’t get enough of the frigid temperatures.

  Picking up an electric tool, the man turned it on and shoved it against the door to cut a perfectly round hole. The warm smell of sawdust filled the air as the high whine of the tool hurt my ears. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. Turning it off, he laid it aside and had just reached for the lock when a scream pierced the solitude.

  The workman startled, looking around to see if Bella or I had shrieked. But the screech had come from outside. I dodged past him and out the door.

  Only a few feet away, the Easter egg woman knelt in the snow. And in front of her was a puddle of frozen blood where it had melted into the snow. Just the right size to be from a little dog.

  A mountain of guilt filled me, making my body so heavy, my muscles couldn’t carry me. With an evil glance, Bella rushed past. But what could I do? Tell the woman I’d probably done that to her Bijou? Apologize for something I didn’t remember?

  Bella helped the woman to her feet and back into the lodge. I trailed along, wishing I knew what to say. Helplessness rode me. I wished I could break something, get angry, do anything to ward off this underlying weakness.

  As they passed me, I heard the woman sob, “If only she’d had puppies, I’d have something to remember her by.”

  Careful not to bang into the workman, Bella glanced back at me when she took the woman into the building. “Come inside. We have a class.”

  Who cares? I wanted to roar, but thought better of it. “What kind of class?”

  She stared at me for a moment before answering. “They can’t start our spa treatments until tomorrow, so I booked us for knitting classes today.”

  “Knitting?” I yelped. If I’d tried for a year, I could think of nothing more boring than knitting. Old ladies and people without a life knit. “No way.”

  She pulled several tissues from a box and handed them to the woman while she glared at me. “And why not?”

  “I don’t think I’m old enough to knit. You have to be a hundred and fifty, or at least act like it, don’t you?”

  That drew a small smile from Bijou’s owner, but a deeper frown from Bella.

  “Everyone knits these days. I planned to make Bijou a maternity sweater as soon as I knew she was pregnant. I spent a fortune, and sh-she was part of a test group, taking a new drug, Clomovidine, because she was having so much trouble.” The woman hiccoughed as the tears flowed. “Oh, how rude. I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jayne Lafferty, from South Bend.”

  Bella had to dig deep to find a smile. “I’m Bella Cannis and this is my sister, Jazzy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Jayne blew her nose then looked at me again. “As I was saying, everyone knits these days. Even famous people knit—Julia Robins and Camera Ditzedge. Even Rooster Crowe knits.”

  I was careful to keep from smiling while she mispronounced the names. If I smiled even a little, I’d laugh myself into a coma. Rooster Crowe?

  Bella glanced at her watch. “Are you going to be okay, Jayne?”

  With a long sniff, Jayne nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Well, don’t give up hope. You don’t know that blood belonged to Bijou. It could have been a wild animal or something.” Bella tried to comfort both Jayne and me.

  Jayne looked thoughtful for a few moments. “You’re right. Maybe someone will find her and bring her home. I’m going to keep looking for my baby so I’ll have to miss that spinning class. Are you taking it?”

  Bella nodded. “We both are.”

  Jayne swiped at her eyes one more time then tossed the tissues in the trash. “I’ll have to wait for the next one. I couldn’t concentrate with Bijou lost in the cold.”

  Bella told the workman we were leaving then tugged me out the door. “We don’t want to be late for our spinning class.”

  “You mean spinning, as on stationary bikes?” I could only hope.

  “No.” Bella’s smile just kept growing more evil. “I mean as in yarn. First you have a basic knitting class then we’ll spin.”

  “Just like a spider,” I murmured under my breath.

  Bella gave me a pointed glance. “Exactly.”

  The knitting class wasn’t too hard after I learned the rhymes. In through the front door, around the back, out through the window, and off jumps jack. Easy. And to be honest, once I got started, the easy rhythm of stitching relaxed me. But I’d never admit that to Bella.

  Next they taught us to purl, or tried to. It’s like trying to pat your head, rub your stomach and dance the Merengúe at the same time, at least to me. Even the little poem didn’t help. Under the fence, catch the sheep, back we come, off we leap. What sense did that make?

  I knotted my perfect yarn into a snarled nest that looked as if it had been made by a bird on crack. After I threw my ball across the room twice, the instructor suggested that for the time being, I stick with the garter stitch—knitting only.

  Then came spinning. I honestly thought I’d nap through it when they gave me a hand held spinner. But then I had a turn at the big spinning wheel, and I found bliss. In just a few minutes I was able to even out the speed of the wheel while I stranded exact amounts of wool between my fingers. I loved being in control!

  I took to it so naturally, they stopped trying to make me take turns with the big wheel and let me work to my heart’s content. By the end of class, I had a ball of near perfect yarn and blurry vision.

  And I’d earned a small smile from Bella. “We don’t have another class scheduled for a while. Why don’t we ge
t our coats, go outside and take a stroll?”

  Back in our condo, she got her jacket, hat and gloves, then using her key, unlocked the outside door. We walked to the patch of bloody snow. Her face grew very serious. “Do you think you did it?”

  Guilt filled me as I shrugged. “How do I know? I don’t remember anything after I left the room last night until I heard Jayne pounding on the door this morning.”

  “Something Jayne said has been nagging at me.” Bella kept her head down, but shot a glance at me. She didn’t do secretive very well.

  Figuring she was just trying to make me curious, I adopted a bored look then shrugged. “What?”

  “About Bijou being in a test group, trying to get her pregnant.” She took a breath and paused a moment. “I need to find out what it could do to you. You could be affected if that blood puddle is from Bijou, and you’re the, uh, perpetrator.”

  I focused on the last word. “Perpetrator? Don’t you mean executioner? Violator of the helpless? Rabid wolf?” Anger flaming through me caused my jaw to ache as though I were about to transform. All I needed was to morph right there in plain view of everyone. Bella would never survive the trauma.

  Taking a cleansing breath, I bowed my head to ease the muscles tensing in my neck. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s my fault.” Bella’s eyes brimmed with sympathy. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just that I’m worried. About you. I don’t know what effect Clomovidine would have on your body.”

  “On my…” I thought for a moment then shook my head. “Why would drugs a dog that small was given have an effect on me?”

  “Well, only if you ingested some of the dog’s flesh. And because it’s so new, just in the testing stages, I don’t know how long it stays in the body. Since we don’t know when Jayne gave Bijou the last dose, there’s no way of knowing if it had been digested yet. Jazzy, I don’t know what it might do to you.”

  I gulped a lungful of icy air, but it did little to cool the heat raging inside me. Damn dog. Damn BMW. And damn being in heat! “So what do we do?”

  “First I have to find out what the effects will be.” With a sudden movement, she turned and started back toward the lodge.