by Jewel Dartt
Miranda held the key to peace among his clan, and it was his job to return her to the place where she rightfully belonged.
Fate had come full circle, as he'd known it would. He would have what was promised to him so many years ago. It was his birthright and he meant to claim it.
The time was at hand, and he would use everything in his power to make her love him—and love what she was becoming. The signs were already there, and it was only a matter of time before she would give in to her darker half.
He would tell her the secret of their immortality that humans knew nothing of, and she would rejoice in what she was.
She would join him in his shadowy moonlit world. She would know the wild sensation of running free with the wind at her back, the thrill of the hunt running hot through her blood.
Together they would hunt and love.
Together they would kill…
* * *
Hadden stared down into the dregs of his fifth beer. Or was it his sixth? Hell, he lost count after the second one. Somebody stuck a quarter in the jukebox in the corner, and an old country tune came rolling out of the antique machine. The song was all about lost love and heartbreak. His chest tightened with pain. Yeah, he knew all about that. He was sitting in McKay's, a rustic little bar and grill just outside of town that served the best damn cheeseburgers in the county.
But tonight he was here for another reason-he intended to get falling down puking drunk. No, even drunker than that. It was the only way he knew to deaden the pain in his soul. He slammed the beer mug down on the table to get the barmaid's attention.
"Bring me another, Sally," he murmured when the tired looking waitress approached his table. "And keep 'em coming."
She gave him a worried look. "Don't you think you've had enough for one night, Doc? Why don't you go on home and sleep it off. You've got sick people to tend to tomorrow."
He shook his head and smiled at her. "Today was my wedding day. Hank is covering for me tomorrow. You know Hank? 'Course you do," he said when she nodded. "Best damn partner in the world."
Hadden raised his mug in the air. "They don't come any better than good ol' Hank." His voice slurred as he added. "I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon, you know." A bitter laugh escaped him and he gave her a wink. "Instead I'm here in this hole-in-the-wall and I want another beer."
He slammed the mug on the scarred wooden table. "So are you going to get it, or do I have to get it myself?"
She sighed. "All right, Doc, if that's what you want. But you can't stay here forever. Drinking ain't gonna help you and your woman." Her mouth tightened when she put her hands on her hips. "You needta get off your butt and go do somethin' 'bout it."
Hadden rubbed the cool glass of the mug against the side of his face to ease the pain in his head. "Don't play psychologist with me, Sally. Just get me my drink."
Sally snorted. "It don't take no psychologist to tell when a man's heart is hurting, Hadden."
Hadden gave her a hard stare. "I don't want to discuss this, not now."
She waved her bar rag at him in disgust and scooped up his empty beer mugs. "Fine with me, Doc. But I think you're a damn fool."
After she left, his thoughts returned to Miranda. Dammit, he should never have accused her of falling for another man. He knew Miranda better than that.
She was honest and forthright; if there was another man, she would have just come out and told him. But something was wrong, and it was something she didn't want him to find out about. But what? God, it was driving him crazy.
From the very first time he saw Miranda, he'd known she was special. They had met when he was twelve and she was seven. She was visiting her grandfather that summer. Back then she'd been a tiny thing…all legs and long flyaway white blonde hair, and huge blue eyes that gazed at him with wonder as he bragged about his boyhood exploits. Even back then, she knew how to listen, and how to make him feel that he was the most important person alive.
But as the summers flew by, he spent less and less time with Miranda, and more time hanging out with his buddies, staring at girls and making dumb cracks.
After he left home to go to college, he had forgotten all about her. After med school and his internship, he'd returned to Silver Valley to set up practice. Life was good, and he didn't need a woman in it to feel complete. Or so he thought…until he met her again a couple of years later.
Hadden had heard that she had returned to the valley and was living in her grandfather's old house, but he hadn't thought much about it. At least he hadn't until he saw her again.
He wasn't one to believe in love at first sight, but when he first caught sight of her in his examining room, her face pale, her blue eyes wide with apprehension, he'd fallen and fallen hard.
It had seemed like a dream come true when he found out later that she'd felt the same way about him. But now that dream had turned into bitter ashes that left a bad taste in his mouth. Could it be him? Maybe he had done something wrong? Something he wasn't even aware he'd done?
Something hit him hard between the shoulder blades, jerking him out of his musings. Irritated, he turned to see a tall, lanky man with a bright red shock of hair and a broad goofy grin revealing his tobacco stained teeth. Hadden sighed heavily. "Dammit, Joe, go away. I don't feel much like socializing tonight."
"Yeah, I bet. I heard about your woman flying the coop at the last minute," Joe said with a smirk on his sunburned features. "Why don't you send her down my way, and I'll show her what a real man is like."
Hadden shrugged off the man's beefy hand. "Get the hell away from me, Joe, or I swear I'm going to rip your lungs out." His voice was low, but the thread of menace in his tone was hard to miss.
Joe threw back his head and laughed, a loud bawdy sound. "Yeah, right, and I'm that guy singin' on the jukebox over there. Better hunting next time, Doc," he added, before he walked away.
Sally plunked down another beer in front of him, yanking him out of his moody silence. "Last one, Doc. Ned said he can't serve you no more in good conscience."
Hadden looked up angrily. "That's a stupid thing for a bartender to say when selling booze is how he makes his living."
Sally took the pencil from behind her ear and marked on his ticket before she looked down at him. "You wouldn't think so if the sheriff was your brother-in-law. Norman already warned Ned that the next time somebody drives home drunk, he's putting Ned in jail too. 'Sides, you don't need another drink."
"Is this chair taken?" a familiar voice asked.
Hadden turned around in his seat, a crooked grin appeared on his lips when he saw his friend standing there. "What the hell are you doing in here, Steven? If any of your parishioners catch you in this joint they'll run you out of town on a rail."
Steven grinned and sat down across from him. "I think they might understand if they knew the circumstances. Besides, the food is great."
"Well, I don't understand it." His eyes narrowed. "How did you know where to find me?"
Steven motioned toward the waitress, who was already busy at another table. "Sally called me. She's worried about you, and thought you could use a friend. So, are you going to tell me what happened?"
Hadden picked up his mug and drained it to the last few drops before he spoke. "Nothing. She basically fed me the same crap that was in her letter." He leaned over the table. "There was something in her eyes, Steven, something I can't describe. There's something she's not telling me, but damned if I can figure out what it is."
"Well, you're not going to get your answers out of a bottle, friend."
Hadden gave his friend a cool, hard stare. "Maybe…maybe not. But it's the best thing I've had going for me all day."
"Hadden…" Steven's voice trailed off, and he looked up at the same time Hadden felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Doc. Ain't seen you in here in a long time," Sheriff Banks said. He took off his cap and scratched his balding head, his brow furrowed, and looked over at the preacher. "It's been a while since I saw
you in here, too."
Steven smiled. "I've been pretty busy, Sheriff. What brings you out so late?"
The Sheriff grabbed a chair from another table and pulled it under his considerable girth, straddling it backwards. "I was out by old man Jensen's place. He called in, just as I was about to go home, screaming about seeing some wolf on his property, goin' after his cattle."
"Did you find anything?" Hadden asked.
"Hell no. Just a few tracks here and there that anything could have made. I figured it to be one of those pet wolves or half wolves that have come up missing over the last couple of years, or else somebody's damn dog running loose. Ed MacFadden lives a few miles from Jensen, and he has one of those Nikita dogs, and I swear that damn dog looks just like a wolf. It might have broke its chain and wandered over to Jensen's." The Sheriff snorted his disgust. "I tried to tell the old coot, but he wouldn't listen, kept rambling on and on about it being a wolf."
"If you knew that, then why did you go out there?" Steven asked.
Norman settled his cap back on his head. "Gotta check it out. That's what I get paid to do. Jensen made sure to remind me of that when I put him off about going out there."
"It is strange, though," Steven commented, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I would have thought Mr. Jensen to be the last one to panic because of a wolf. He'd more likely go out and shoot it himself instead of calling you."
The other two men agreed, and after a few more minutes of small talk, Sheriff Banks got up and left.
Hadden got to his feet, staggering slightly. "I guess I best be gettin' home too."
Steven leapt to his feet and caught Hadden as the floor dipped out beneath him. "I think I'd better help you get there, or else you won't make it in one piece."
Hadden decided not to argue, mostly because he was beginning to feel quite ill. But he didn't let on to his friend. He'd been through enough humiliation for one day. After Steven had seen him home and helped him get into bed, he drifted into sleep. It wasn't dreamless, as he'd hoped.
* * *
Three days later, Hadden leaned back into his desk chair wearily.
He'd worked late at the clinic again, reluctant to go home where there was nothing to occupy his mind except thoughts of Miranda.
After that first night, when the next morning he'd awakened with a ferocious hangover, he'd decided Steven was right…drowning his problems in a bottle was not going to help. So, instead, he'd gone into work and given Hank Morris the week off.
It hadn't taken him long to realize work wasn't the answer either, but it was more productive than drinking himself to death. At least when he went home at night he was so exhausted, he fell asleep immediately. Well, sometimes anyway, he thought ruefully as he closed and locked the clinic doors behind him.
It had been two days since he had seen Miranda. Two days in which he'd tried to see her, phone her, but her grandmother had run interference for her, and kept him at arm's length. All he wanted to do was talk to Miranda, get her to open up to him, but he couldn't even get close to her. Elizabeth Slate was making damn sure of that.
He rattled the door handle, making sure it was locked and then started toward his pick-up truck. He heard a screech of tires, and glanced up just in time to see Elizabeth Slate speed into the parking lot in a black sedan with a rental sticker on the front bumper. She came to a jarring halt and pushed out of the car with an urgency that scared the hell out of him.
"Hadden, you have to come," she said, breathing in short, quick bursts. Under the lights from the street lamp overhead, her skin took on a pasty white look.
"Has something happened to Miranda?" he asked.
"Yes…no…please, Hadden, I need your help," she stammered. "Something's gone wrong, I'm afraid she will die. I don't know what to do, you have to help me."
Panic started to rise in Hadden's face. "Where is she?"
"At the house, but…"
Hadden felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "What's happened? Was she in an accident? Why didn't you call 911, for God's sake?"
Elizabeth shook her head at his harsh questions. "I couldn't wait for an ambulance from the next county. And besides they would ask too many questions." Tears glittered in her eyes. "We don't have time for this. Please, are you coming or not?"
Hadden's lips pressed into a tight line, and without another word he leapt into his pick-up truck. He raced out of the parking lot like a man possessed, narrowly missing the garbage cans on the corner awaiting tomorrow's pick up.
On the way, he envisioned all sorts of disasters, his heart lodged in his throat at even the possibility of losing Miranda.
He reached Miranda's place before Elizabeth, and didn't waste a second waiting for her to catch up.
Hadden grabbed his medical bag and raced inside the house. He thanked God the door was unlocked, because if it hadn't been he would have busted it down to get to Miranda.
"Miranda, Miranda," he shouted. Tightness squeezed his chest until it hurt to breathe. He bolted through the dark living room and down a short hallway that led to the bedrooms. He pushed open the door of her bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.
His heart almost stopped beating.
Miranda was on the floor, and she looked so tiny and fragile lying there on the carpet. She was still. Too still for his liking. He stood frozen in place, staring down at her. Luckily, his instincts kicked in, and with a soft curse, he dropped to his knees by her side and searched frantically for a pulse.
God, but she was so damn pale, he thought, his fingers searching for a pulse point. There it was. It was erratic and shallow, but she was alive. The rush of relief he felt overwhelmed him as he lifted her in his arms and placed her on the canopied bed. Quickly, he scanned her for any sign of injury, but he saw nothing. What could have happened? Perhaps she'd fallen and hit her head? He was just about to check when she moaned and opened her eyes.
Her eyes widened in dismay at the sight of him. "Noo…what are you doing here?" Her voice was a husky whisper.
"Your grandmother asked me to come," he said, brushing back her hair. "She was worried about you, darlin'."
She tossed her head back and forth on the pillow. "She had no right to do that. I…I'm fine…just go before it's too late."
He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Too late for what? What the hell's going on?"
With a moan that turned into a screamed "Oh, God" she tore herself away. She scrunched up into a fetal position and then rolled onto her side away from him.
He tried to turn her back toward him. "Honey, where does it hurt? Talk to me so I can help you."
She kept her back to him. "Go away, Hadden. You can't help me…nobody can help me now."
The pain in her voice sent shivers of fear down his spine. Dear God, what was wrong with her? Why wouldn't she let him examine her?
Another heart wrenching scream ripped from her throat as he reached out to touch her. He almost screamed in horror himself when his fingers seem to melt into her skin as her bones shrank inward.
"Dear God, what is happening to you?" he whispered as she pushed his hand away.
"Get out of here now!"
It wasn't possible, no, not possible at all.
He backed away from the bed as the change came over her.
Hadden wanted to run, but was unable to. This was his Miranda, for God's sake. Whatever was wrong with her concerned him too, he told himself. Stunned, he watched her fingernails grow into claws, and white-gold hair began to sprout over her fragile body.
The very bones in her face began to elongate and tilt, rearranging themselves. The shoulder length white-gold hair had burst forth like a waterfall, flowing into a thick silky mane down her back to her knees.
She appeared to be growing, but since she was still lying on the bed, it was hard for him to be sure.
He knew that what was happening to her was a medical impossibility…hell, what was he thinking? It was impossible by any standard!<
br />
Shock and disbelief rushed through him as he stumbled against the wall. The room faded into an unfocused mist as he watched her transformation.
Strangely enough, despite his terror, he knew she wouldn't hurt him. It was crazy but somehow Hadden sensed it.
But she could be extremely dangerous to others.
The thought popped unbidden into his head, but somewhere down deep, he knew it was true. Every childhood nightmare he'd ever had was becoming a reality in the woman he loved more than life itself.
His heart wrenched with a painful jerk when she gazed up at him in anguish and horror, her startling blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, before she leaped off the bed and loped past him effortlessly.
"No, Miranda, wait!" he shouted as he stumbled into the living room. But he was too late. She was gone.
Numb, his knees shaking, he made his way to the couch.
* * *
"What happened? Where's Miranda?" Elizabeth demanded breathlessly, her cane clattering to the floor unnoticed.
Hadden looked up to see her standing over him. He felt a surge of anger as he stood up and gripped her by both arms. "You tell me. I seem to be the only one in the dark here. Why did Miranda turn into…" his voice faltered for a moment. "A wolf?" He laughed harshly. "My God, I saw it for myself. I still can't believe it."
Elizabeth clenched the fabric on top of the recliner, her fingers white with tension. "I didn't know anything about it either, until a few days ago. Her mother left a journal for Miranda, and in it she reveals that she was a loup-garou." The older woman looked away. "Shape shifter," she whispered.
"And what about her father?"
"Apparently human."
He let her go and slumped back down upon the sofa. "So that's why she jilted me."
Elizabeth nodded. "She didn't think it was fair to you. She didn't want you to know the truth. But tonight when the pain got so bad, I thought something was really wrong." She let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I guess I panicked. I'm afraid I don't have much experience with this sort of thing."
Hadden ran his fingers through the ragged edges of his dark brown hair. "We have to find a way to help her."
