Waxing Moon

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Waxing Moon Page 13

by Sarah E Stevens


  Sheila’s house seemed overly empty, even with me, Carson, Newt, and Eliza trying to fill in the silence. We arrived home at nearly eight, which seemed weird any way I looked at it: hard to believe we lost most of the day in the hospital, and yet I was so weary, our encounter with the Salamanders seemed to have taken place a week ago. Since Carson fell asleep on the way home, I put him into bed without even changing him into pajamas. I think he picked up on some of the strain and weariness of the group, because he had spent the last two hours being an incredibly cranky baby. Good thing he was cute.

  Newt volunteered to cook dinner, so our trip home encompassed a quick stop at the food co-op. He brought his purchases into the kitchen as soon as we arrived and firmly shooed Eliza and me to the living room. Twenty minutes later, he called us in to what seemed—at least to culinary-challenged me—a veritable feast: fresh angel hair pasta tossed with garlic shrimp and broccoli in a creamy sauce. He also opened a bottle of pinot gris and poured us each a glass.

  “After the day we had, I figure we deserve a glass of wine.” Newt raised his glass with Eliza and I following suit. “To Sheila.”

  We murmured agreement and toasted together.

  I ate a tremendous amount of pasta and drank only two glasses of wine, but still felt a mild buzz by the end of dinner—just that hazy, warm-around-the-edges feeling that wine sometimes brings.

  That’s my only excuse for not noticing the wolf right away.

  Eliza had excused herself right after dinner to take the first sleep shift, since she stayed up most of the previous night. She cast several long looks back at us on her way out of the kitchen, and I could tell she didn’t want to leave the companionable group, but prudence won and she climbed the stairs. She’d been sleeping in the hall, in wolf form, and I imagined her curling up, sinking her nose into her paws, and falling fast asleep. Newt and I sat in the kitchen for a long time, finishing the last halves of those second glasses of wine and chatting about everything—movies, books, food—anything not related to Weres, Salamanders, Witches, or danger.

  Finally, Newt stretched and said he was going to call the Salamander master to report more fully than he managed earlier in the day. I nodded and moved to do the dishes—only fair, since Newt had been our chef. After cleaning up, I decided to take out the garbage, since the smell of garlic and shrimp still filled the kitchen in a way that wasn’t unappetizing now, but might be really gross in the morning.

  I hoisted the trash bag and let myself out the back door. The waxing gibbous moon hadn’t risen yet so only the light from the kitchen and one of the neighbor’s side windows lessened the dark night. I paused on the steps to let my eyes adjust, then walked down the side of the house to the trash cans.

  He rose to his feet as I approached. I saw his eyes first, reflecting amber in the dark, then took in the black bulk of him standing mere feet from me.

  I froze, all except for my heart, which galloped like crazy. The garbage bag slipped from my fingers and landed on the ground with a thump. I took a step backward, then another, at each moment expecting him to attack.

  Instead, he sat down and watched me.

  I stopped about fifteen feet away, halfway between him and the back door. My heart began to fall back into a normal rhythm, though every muscle in my body still screamed with tension. I stared at him. He blinked.

  “What do you want?”

  He didn’t answer, of course, and I felt like a switch flipped inside of me from terror to anger.

  “What do you want? What? Are you going to kill me? Kill me already.” With no pre-thought, I closed part of the distance between us. My hands extended in frustration and only the neighbors kept me from yelling.

  One of the wolf’s ears twitched. I wanted to smack him.

  “Listen, Tony.” The wolf lifted his muzzle, lips curling slightly. “I’ve had a long day. My best friend is in the hospital and may never be able to use her right hand again. If you’re here to take revenge, just do it now. Before anyone else gets hurt because of me.”

  As I spoke, I realized the words were true. The thought gave me some sort of peace and I pulled back my shoulders, waiting for the Were to lunge—surely, he’d attack now.

  The night was dark, even though my eyes adjusted as much as possible for a human. Against the blackness, shadow crept in, a dense and roiling mass obscuring even those amber eyes. Then slowly, slowly, as if protesting, the heavy darkness dropped back and revealed a man.

  He straightened. The light caught his face, a paler oval in the night, where deep-set eyes still reflected honey-brown. Dark hair coursed roughly down past his shoulders in tangled waves, matched by a long and uneven beard that should have looked awful, but instead increased his look of utter wildness. He was tall and lean, with a wiry musculature that echoed the wolf, as did his stance of alert readiness. He wore jeans ripped at the knees and tattered at the bottoms and a dark-colored t-shirt worn to shapelessness, tight at his shoulders and falling loose around his waist. His feet were bare. I wasn’t a wolf, but I could somehow smell him—not the scent of soap, shampoo, or cologne, but a deeper, earthier scent that seemed to pull at me.

  I swallowed hard through a blocked throat.

  He didn’t say anything, just stood there and looked at me, his face like a mask except for those startling eyes.

  “Well?” I snapped, finally.

  “I—” The man stopped and considered. “I do not intend to hurt you.”

  I actually laughed.

  “Really? Well, you and your friends have been doing an awfully good job of it anyway.”

  His teeth flashed in the light and I braced myself so as not to flinch.

  “Not my friends.”

  The back door crashed open behind me and I jumped.

  Eliza and Newt, of course. Eliza loomed in wolf form, hackles raised and teeth glinting. A deep growl crawled through the night. One step behind her and to the side, Newt stood with his hands wreathed in purple flame.

  In front of me, the Were’s expression didn’t change. He slowly raised his hands, palms facing us in the universal gesture.

  Newt broke the silence first. “What’s going on here? What—?”

  “I’m not sure. He says he doesn’t want to hurt me. Us, I guess. And the Salamanders—the Eclipsers—aren’t his friends.”

  “That is true.” The Were—Tony, I guess I needed to think of him as Tony—looked at the buff-colored wolf. For the first time, a note of hesitation crept into his voice. “Eliza?”

  Eliza stepped through shadow and emerged. “Yes.” They studied each other before she continued. “What’s going on, Tony? Where have you been? Everyone thought you died or truly turned wolf. Why are you here and why now, if not to take revenge?”

  An expression crossed Tony’s face too fast for me to catch it. He looked at me and my stomach leapt.

  “I heard about Dave. What he did. What happened to him. I wanted to see—” He inclined his head in my direction.

  I rubbed my forehead and pushed my curls behind my ears. I had a hard time looking at Tony for some reason, so I addressed the night air instead. “I’m sorry about your brother. I wish they hadn’t—I wish there’d been some other way—I—”

  He interrupted as my words petered out. “Dave was my responsibility and I abandoned him. My fault and no other.”

  Eliza spoke up, suddenly, and I jumped, almost as if I forgot anyone else were present. “The pack failed him, Tony.”

  “The pack didn’t run away, forsaking everything and everyone, and try to drown its troubles in the wilderness. That was me.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it again. Tony’s words weren’t highly inflected, yet they carried a pain that silenced me. I wished Sheila could come lighten the mood somehow with one of her dramatic gestures. Actually, I just wanted Sheila—the memory of her pale face as the paramedics rolled her onto the plane lay close to the surface of my thoughts. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could sustain this emotional intensity. I swallowe
d hard and felt my temples throb with a headache.

  “Are all Weres this hung up on arguing who’s at fault?” Newt struck a patently relaxed pose and started to juggle small balls of purple fire. “’Cause it seems to me we could stand out here and entertain the neighbors for hours with ‘It was my fault,’ ‘No, my fault,’ ‘No, my fault.’ Can we agree Dave was primarily at fault and move on? Preferably inside? Since we’re not about to kill each other.”

  Eliza looked quickly at the neighboring townhouses, as if re-aware of our surroundings.

  My words came slowly. “But were you?”

  Everyone turned to me and I lifted my gaze to meet Tony’s. I forced the words through a suddenly dry mouth. “Trying to kill me. Were you trying to kill me?”

  His amber gaze held mine and I saw his mouth relax, move into a near smile.

  “No,” he said, his voice resonant in the darkness. “I saved your life.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  We settled in the living room. I listened at the bottom of the stairs for Carson, but he slept soundly. Newt offered to make a pot of tea and disappeared into the kitchen. I sat in the rocking chair and tried not to be too obvious as I studied Tony. After a slight hesitation, Tony chose the armchair and settled himself into it gingerly.

  “You’ve really been wolf for five years, yet not turned wolf completely?” Eliza leaned forward from her seat on the couch and fixed Tony with her full attention.

  When he nodded, she shook her head slowly. “I’m…amazed you could come back.”

  “So am I. It feels,” he lifted one shoulder, “strange.”

  “Is that why—” I stopped as both the Weres focused on me. A flush raced up my neck and I hoped no one noticed.

  “Why what?” Eliza asked.

  “Your eyes. Are they still part wolf?” I darted a look at those amber eyes, somehow dark, yet full of honey.

  Eliza’s brow wrinkled, then she snorted a laugh. “Nope, just Tony’s eyes. Some Weres’ eyes change between forms, some don’t.”

  “Oh.” Even my ears felt like they blushed and I fought it down, tried to play it off as insignificant. “Just wondering.”

  Newt came into the room with mugs of chamomile tea for everyone and said, brightly, “So what’d I miss?”

  The room felt somehow lighter with him there and some of the tension left my shoulders.

  Newt took a seat next to Eliza, who said, “Not much. Tony’s been in wolf form for the last five years, and I mentioned I was surprised he hadn’t lost himself completely.”

  “Become a wolf in truth, you mean?”

  “Yes. We refer to it as turning wolf. It happens.”

  Tony said, “Some of the packs I encountered assumed that was the case—that I’d turned wolf. They were kind to me.”

  Eliza nodded. “Of course they were.”

  “That’s how you found out about what happened? From another pack?” I asked.

  “Yes. I overheard them discussing Dave.”

  I broke our shared glance as he continued.

  “I am deeply apologetic and shamed on behalf of my brother and my family. I—” He paused, and his expression displayed his search for words. “I wasn’t ready to go back to Greybull, but after a while, I realized I slowly travelled in this direction. I wanted to see the pup, Mac’s pup.”

  With a start, I remembered Tony and Mac had been friends—childhood friends and rivals, two of the full moon Weres in Greybull.

  “He was a good Were,” said Tony, now entirely focused on me. “He would have taken good care of you and your son.”

  I knew he meant it kindly. Or perhaps kindly wasn’t the word, but he didn’t mean to give offense. Nonetheless, I felt myself straightening in my chair.

  “I know I’m just a human.” I paused and made sure no bitterness leaked into my voice. “But I am doing my best to take care of Carson. I do appreciate your help in waking us up on the night of the fire.” I inclined my head to Tony formally.

  He lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Eliza, who looked exasperated.

  “Just ignore it, Tony.”

  But he didn’t. He leaned forward in his chair. “You, mere human, stood in the wilderness and dared me to attack you. Ran into the woods in the middle of a fight to warn your friends about me.” He ticked off points on his fingers. “Hunted murderers in Las Vegas. Faced the mafia. And—are you fleeing right now? Have I interrupted plans for you to run away and leave your friends here to deal with the Salamanders?”

  “No,” I said, stung, then realized I furthered his argument.

  “So.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “What I meant was: I am sorry my brother robbed you of Carson’s father and your lover.”

  “Mac and I broke up.” The blood rushed hotly to my face again and I took a deep breath over my tripping tongue. “I mean, Mac and I had broken up a long time ago. Before I even knew I was pregnant. We didn’t work out as a couple. He was—I mean—I—actually, he didn’t even know about Carson, which was all my fault. I didn’t tell him.”

  Shut up, Julie. I closed my mouth against the wild babbling. What was with me tonight?

  I wished I could read Tony’s expression.

  “Anyway. Um—excuse me, I think I hear Carson. I’ll be right back.”

  I escaped up the stairs to regain my composure and check on my baby. Only after I reached the bedroom did I remember the two Weres knew it’d been an utter lie. Their hearing was much better than mine. Carson slept quietly.

  ****

  When I came back to the living room, they talked about a safer topic: the Salamanders. Newt was in the middle of explaining Eclipsers to Tony, who nodded.

  “I see. They fear the eclipse will upset the paranormal equilibrium, and they believe Carson’s strength will tip the balance in favor of the Weres,” Tony summarized, then turned to Eliza. “How strong is Carson, in your opinion?”

  She spread her hands. “As strong as I’ve ever known. Calling water at six months old?”

  “I agree. To me, he seems much stronger than a full moon Were as a full is to a half moon.”

  Full moon, waxing moon, half moon, waning moon, crescent moon. What was Carson, then? What were the people always going on about these days, the supermoon? Yeah. A supermoon. Whatever that was. I closed my eyes and wondered how I would handle him as he grew.

  “Have they talked about containing his powers?”

  My eyes flew open at Tony’s question. “What do you mean? Eliza? What does he mean?”

  “Calm down, Julie. No, Tony, not yet.”

  “Not yet what? What does he mean ‘containing his powers’?” I said. Once again, the Weres kept something from me.

  “Julie, remember before Dave’s trial, I said the council could strip him of his powers instead of killing him?”

  “The council could strip Carson’s powers?” I jumped out of my chair and only realized I yelled when Eliza stood to face me.

  “The council could strip his powers—temporarily—until he’s older, until he can control himself better. They could reverse the process when he’s older. Probably. But no one’s talked about that yet. At least, I don’t think they have. So just calm down, Julie.”

  “Probably? You mean they might not give his powers back. He’s done nothing wrong. He’s not a threat to anyone. He’s just a baby.”

  Tony cut in. “He is just a baby—a baby who can call water and turn into a wolf. Who knows what power he’ll demonstrate next? I’m concerned for his own safety.”

  I turned on him in fury, then lost my voice as he stood up and took half a step toward me. He held out one hand in my direction. “Julie,” he said and I realized it was the first time he said my name. “I just asked the question. I wasn’t recommending a course of action. No one’s tried to do this—to temporarily strip someone’s powers—for generations. The council wouldn’t risk it unless they were sure of re-investing his powers when he’s closer to maturity. Unless, he posed a real threat to his own safety.”


  I shoved my hands into my pockets and felt the adrenaline melt away.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  I took my seat and picked up my tea, now rather cold, but the drink gave me something to focus on.

  Eliza watched me. I gave her a half-smile and a shrug, then retreated behind my mug.

  “On another note, I didn’t have a chance to tell you about my conversation with the master,” said Newt. I shot him a thankful look. He smiled back at me, with his freckles gleaming like copper. “I need to stay here and hunt the Eclipsers. I won’t be able to go to Portland with you. I hope you’ll give Sheila my best, though?”

  I nodded. Eliza frowned, then slowly said, “That makes sense, I suppose, although the Eclipsers may follow us north.”

  “In that case, I’ll be right behind them and I’ll meet you there. The master’s worried others will join the two Eclipsers we know about—the two still alive—so he’s sending reinforcements of our own. They’ll be here on Friday.”

  I had to do some mental calculations before I realized today was Wednesday. Two days ’til we could expect the other Salamanders.

  “Great.” Eliza lengthened the word into two syllables and rolled her eyes. “More Salamanders, just what we need.”

  Newt flashed her a grin, hearing the joking tone behind the words—words once filled with disgust.

  “Well,” he said, mock-modestly, “they won’t all be as strong as I am, but I’m sure they’ll do their best.”

  I snorted.

  Tony followed our exchanges with a frown and I wondered if it was hard for him to catch all the interpersonal dynamics, after living so long as a wolf.

  My cell phone rang and I jumped to rummage in my purse for it.

  “Tim,” I said, after swiping the screen. “Hello? How is she?”

  Tim’s voice sounded weary—a token of utter exhaustion, since I knew he usually achieved an even-keel demeanor no matter what the circumstances. I heard ambient noises behind him: someone talking, a beeping sound, the rattle of what was probably a cart moving down the hospital hall. I closed my eyes and listened to feel closer to Sheila.

  “She’s doing better. She’s stable and on a lot of painkillers. Hopefully tomorrow, she’ll be more of her normal self and able to talk to you. The facilities here are pretty amazing—top notch.”

 

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