Waxing Moon

by Sarah E Stevens

  When they both turned their attention to me, I ran my hands through my hair and tugged on the ends in frustration. “We can figure this out. No blaming and no yelling. We’re all on the same team here, right?”

  “Right,” said Eliza.

  Tony jerked his shoulders in quasi-agreement.

  “But we’re out of choices,” Eliza pushed.

  “We always have choices. Okay. Okay. Let’s think. If we take Carson to them, they might strip his powers,” I said. “They’re unlikely to negotiate with the Eclipsers, but I think the council is already uncomfortable with me. They want Carson under the control of a formal pack structure.” I held up a hand to stop Eliza. “Yes, I know. That’s something I can remedy right now—James made that all too clear.”

  “You promised. You promised to move to Greybull and bring Carson fully into the pack. You promised,” said Eliza.

  “I remember.” A surge of anger shot through me.

  I walked the length of the kitchen, while formulating my next thoughts. “All right. The council might decide to strip Carson’s powers, because he’s too dangerous even under supervision. Or maybe because they fear a rash of Salamander arsons will draw too much human attention? Maybe they worry about the paranormal connection becoming public somehow?”

  “Could be,” said Tony.

  “Or maybe the council’s worried the Weres can’t defeat the Eclipsers?”

  “A bunch of rogue Salamanders wouldn’t worry the council,” Eliza said. “We’ve no reason to be afraid of them. Besides, I still think the council won’t strip his powers. We need strong Weres. They want Carson. I think they really want to protect him.” Eliza gestured earnestly with her hands.

  I grimaced. “I just don’t trust them. They—Chris and James—they treat me like I’m barely worth their notice. A lowly human. Like the only important thing about me is my son.” My hand moved involuntarily to the bruises on my neck. “They probably wish I were dead. Then they could just take Carson and do what they want.” I looked at Eliza. “Why couldn’t they have sent someone else? Someone reasonable?”

  Her mouth twisted. “James is supposed to be the best.”

  “But you don’t like him either. I can tell.”

  “No, but I don’t have to like him to know he’ll do everything in his power to follow the orders of the council. You don’t want to make him an enemy.”

  “He’s making me an enemy,” I grumbled, meaning it, sort of.

  Dammit. I knew Eliza was right. What she said was logical. We didn’t want the full strength of the council after us. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to trust James Robinson with the welfare of my son—not when the Special Ops force considered me a second-class citizen. I didn’t want Carson under the control of people like that.

  Something I hadn’t recognized before suddenly crystallized for me.

  I didn’t want Carson to grow up in a pack.

  I froze, shocked by my own thoughts, and quickly turned to stare out the window, unwilling to look at Eliza or Tony while my mind sped.

  Tony was right, what he said to me earlier. Weres could lose their humanity. I saw it in the way Chris Usher devalued my existence, in the way so many of the Weres I knew—good Weres and my friends—were preoccupied with issues of dominance, continually throwing around their paranormal weight. They might have powers I didn’t have, but they also had their share of weaknesses, one of which was their inability to see the true worth of non-Weres—humans, Salamanders, Witches. I didn’t want Carson to be like that. I wanted him to respect all peoples, regardless of their difference, regardless of their powers or strength. He wouldn’t learn that in a pack.

  Carson was the strongest Were. If I didn’t help him temper such power with wisdom, compassion, and tolerance, he could be the most brutal. I needed to make sure that didn’t happen. Me. His human mother.

  I could cede control over his future to no one. Not the Greybull pack, not the council, not James Robinson.

  When I turned around and faced the two Weres, I knew my voice was steady. I made my decision; now Eliza and Tony would make theirs.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Eliza rocked back on her heels at the force of my declaration.

  “If you don’t want to be part of this,” I said into the silence, “leave now. If you stay, we do things my way, no matter what the council says.”

  Tony grinned and I had to avert my gaze from the look on his face, even as my heart raced in response.

  “I’m in,” he said, just as I knew he would.

  Eliza stood mute. A muscle in her jaw twitched with tension. “Can I have a minute to think about this?” she asked, finally.

  “Of course.” My heart hurt to see her in such conflict, but she needed to find her own way through this one.

  “I’ll be outside on the porch,” Eliza said.

  As the door closed behind her, Tony said, “She’s not coming with us.”

  “What?”

  “She can’t do it, regardless of your friendship. She honestly believes the council knows best. She’s too caught up in pack structure to see anything else. You know that.”

  Shit.

  I did know that. I just didn’t want to believe it. I wanted Eliza to understand—maybe even to make the council understand—why Carson wasn’t just something to control.

  Tony and I stared at each other. At nearly the same moment, we both turned and raced for the stairs—ridiculous, because I didn’t believe Eliza would actually take Carson, but my heart pounded nonetheless.

  Carson was fine, of course. When I wrenched open the door, he stirred on the bed and looked at me with a delighted grin. He pushed up on his elbows and kicked his feet, completely unmarked by any thought of Eclipsers or defying the entire council. I wished I could change places with him.

  I crossed the room quickly and sat on the bed next to him, patting him on his soft diaper-covered bottom. He spread his arms and airplaned on the bed, rocking on his little belly. The rightness of my decision settled into me viscerally. Carson needed to grow up without the constant pressure of being the strongest Were, without others always seeking to use him or ingratiate themselves with him. He needed to grow into himself fully and humbly. His powers gave him a responsibility not just to other Weres, not just to ensure Were supremacy in the paranormal world, but to fight for what’s right for Weres, Salamanders, humans, Witches—and whatever else was out there. All of us.

  I remembered something Newt said, when I asked him why he was on our side against the Eclipsers: We should work together—focus our strength on fighting the things out there that want to devour us all, Weres, ’Manders, and humans alike.

  Tony’s head jerked and he moved in a blur to the window.

  “She’s leaving.”

  “Eliza’s leaving? Without even saying anything?” I crossed to stand next to him.

  Her rental car was halfway down the street.

  “What’s she going to say? ‘Hey, Julie, I decided to go to the council and let them know you’re defying them?’ ”

  I let out a long breath. “Well, at least she didn’t try to…I don’t know. To take Carson from us.”

  “I doubt she wants to sever your friendship. If I know Eliza, she’s punishing herself right now, wallowing in guilt and conflicted feelings.” Tony’s voice sounded so even—I envied him.

  “What’s our plan?” he asked, and I jolted back to the moment, aware I’d just been staring at him.

  Our plan.

  Right. I’d firmly declared myself in control of this mutiny and I needed a plan.

  “Special Ops will be here soon, especially if Eliza calls them from the car,” Tony said.

  “Okay. So first order of business, we need to find a place safe from both the council and the Eclipsers.” I bit my lip in thought, focusing my gaze on Carson. “We can’t stay here, we can’t go to any of my friends’ houses—Eliza’s met some of them, plus I don’t want to drag anyone else into danger. A hotel?
Or do we just flee the area?”

  Neither of those latter options appealed to me. Running away seemed cowardly. The Eclipsers were still here, ready and willing to kill people because of my son, and I wouldn’t leave that fight to others. Even if I didn’t know how we could fight the Salamanders without giving ourselves up to the council. I’d worry about those details after we had a safe place to hide. Also, fleeing the council felt like granting them the higher ground, as if we were truly fugitives instead of…rebels. Not rogue wolves, not fugitives. Rebels. I tried the word on for size and liked its weight, its import. We were rebels.

  “Wait.” A thought darted like a slippery fish through my mind and I closed my eyes to follow it. “Don’s house.”

  I grabbed my baby sling from where it lay strewn across Sheila’s desk chair and settled Carson against me, even as I hurried downstairs. Tony followed me.

  I explained while rummaging in Sheila’s junk drawer next to the refrigerator. “Sheila said she was watering plants for her colleague Don who’s out of town for another few weeks. She has to have the keys here…ah ha!” I held up the key ring triumphantly. “We can camp out at his house. Eliza wasn’t there when Sheila mentioned it. At least, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t, but even if she was, she doesn’t know who Don is or where he lives.”

  The two keys chimed against each other as I waved them at Tony. “Eliza can’t know where Don lives, because I don’t even know where Don lives. But I know how to find out.” I tossed Tony the keys and he caught them casually with one hand. Then, with a “just watch this” grin, I turned back to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the Southern Oregon University phone directory. First, I thumbed to the listing for the Department of Communication, because I couldn’t remember Don’s last name. Sosa. Next, I found his entry, complete with home phone number and address: 1127 Greenmeadows Way. I wasn’t familiar with the street, so had to find it on my phone.

  “Okay,” I said. “It’s off Tolmon Creek Road on the up-mountain side, bordering the woods, west of the wildfire we were at this morning. Let’s go.”

  ****

  I was willing to bet Don Sosa either came from money or had another career before becoming a university professor, because his home exuded taste and elegance. The house sat on the side of the mountain with a great view of the valley to the east and the wooded hills of the Cascades, now partially obscured by the brown pall of smoke still curling up from the dwindling, contained fire. An upper-story deck wrapped around two sides and wood siding somehow gave the impression the home sprang organically from the surrounding landscape. Inside, high ceilings and walls painted in shades of cream and coffee, accented with azure blue and pale yellow greeted us. The wood floors alone looked equal to the entire worth of my house. What had been my house. Plants filled the rooms with variegated shades of green and the earthy smell of growing things; ferns trailed from plant shelves above head height and small orange trees fronted the glass doors to the deck. I bet Sheila had to spend quite a while watering everything.

  I opened the garage door for Tony to pull in Sheila’s car. We took a circuitous route here and Tony assured me we wouldn’t be tracked by scent, but we shouldn’t take chances and leave the car in the driveway.

  Five-forty. James Robinson must know by now we weren’t bringing Carson to the Special Ops force.

  I went into the living room, turned on the flat-screen television, and flipped channels to find the local news.

  When Tony came in, I updated him. “The Ashland fire’s completely contained and they project it will be out by morning. The Roxy Ann Peak fire is eighty percent contained and hasn’t destroyed any homes or personal property, and the fire in Applegate is nearly out.”

  “Sounds like the other Salamanders arrived and they’ve been busy,” Tony said. “Hopefully, they also made progress finding the Eclipsers.”

  “With a team of Were Special Ops and a bunch of Salamanders, maybe they’ll get all the Eclipsers rounded up before nightfall and we won’t have to worry about their damned ultimatum.”

  “Perhaps.” Tony didn’t sound convinced.

  He stood in the doorway of the living room, looking in at Carson and me. We were alone in the house. The first time we’d been alone. A strange shiver ran along the base of my spine and I rubbed my palms on my jeans before shoving them in my pockets, as if they might touch something without my permission.

  Carson sat on the area rug in the living room, straining to reach a tempting pile of books on the coffee table. I shifted my attention to him and swooped him up, holding him in front of me as if he were a shield. As if he could save me from thinking about the look on Tony’s face, the way he moved his lips slightly to moisten them, the way his hair fell in disarray around his chin and ears. I exhaled and forced a bright smile.

  “Well,” I said. “I guess we might as well look around the house.”

  Tony followed me from room to room as we took a survey: three bedrooms, three full baths, living room, family room in the finished, walk-out basement, gorgeous kitchen full of stainless steel and marble—what they’d advertise as “a cook’s delight” if the home were on the market. Front door, side kitchen door, sliding glass doors, door to the garage. I saw Tony making a mental note of each exit and window as he assessed security concerns. I felt very weird prowling around someone’s house like this, claiming it as our base of operations. Lucky for us, Don Sosa and his family didn’t have any close neighbors, so hopefully no one would ever know about our intrusion. Including the Eclipsers and the council.

  “I guess Carson and I will sleep in the blue bedroom?” Somehow, that choice seemed less obnoxious than using the master bedroom.

  “Whatever makes you comfortable. I plan to sleep in the hallway.”

  I remembered what a big deal Eliza made about Tony still choosing—or not choosing, but lapsing into—sleeping as a wolf and I opened my mouth to say something. But after a sidelong look at Tony’s face, I silently shrugged it away. He could take care of himself; he’d done it for five years.

  “Julie?”

  His voice saying my name made my stomach flip and I settled Carson more firmly on my hip before answering. I had to get control of myself. He was gorgeous, but this was ridiculous.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think you could find a pair of scissors in this place?”

  “Scissors?” I stared at him.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I know it should be the last thing on my mind, given the situation. But if I have to go one more day with all this hair, I may just go insane.” He slipped off the hair band and let the dark strands fall. “Could you cut it for me?”

  As I hesitated, he said, “If not, I’ll hack it off myself just to keep it out of the way.”

  “Uh.” I fidgeted for a minute. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. But I could try to cut it for you, I guess.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” Tony’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

  Almost wishing I could renege on my offer, I gave a semblance of a smile in return. “They probably have scissors in the office.”

  I walked there quickly and rummaged in the desk drawers until I found a pair that looked both sharp and smallish, not huge shears. Of course, his hair bothered him, falling in his face all the time. A simple request, really. Nothing to read into it. No big deal. If I cut it short for him, he could have it fixed by someone professional later, when we weren’t on the run from every paranormal creature ever. I cut my own bangs sometimes and I’d cut my friend’s son’s hair once: this was no different.

  “All right. Are you sure you trust me with these?” I snip snipped the scissors, then cursed myself for sounding flirty. Carson reached for the shiny metal scissors and gave a squeal of frustration as I jerked them out of his reach.

  “I trust you.”

  I cleared my throat. “Let’s go into the kitchen so it’s easier to clean up.”

  I put Carson on the floor, gave him his pacifier, and scrounged up a few
plastic containers and spoons for him to play with. Tony sat sideways on a kitchen chair with his back to me. His hair lay in waves, falling down his neck and onto his shoulder blades. When I looked closely, I saw lighter strands among the dark brown, catching the light just like his eyes.

  “Hold on, let me find a comb.” I escaped into the nearest bathroom, closed my own eyes, and gave myself a stern pep talk. Comb in hand, I returned and gave Tony a smile. “Okay, you realize I’m a complete amateur here, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll do my best. How do you want it cut?”

  “Short. Out of my way. Other than that, I don’t care.”

  I moved in front of him and studied his face impersonally, trying to imagine him with short hair. “I don’t want to make it too short. I’ll leave enough length so someone else can fix it later. Besides with the waves in your hair, I think it would look nice a bit longer anyway.”

  His hair was soft as it caught around my fingers and the comb, snapping with static as I worked. I gathered the top of it up and fastened it out of the way with his borrowed hair band. Kind of a shame to cut his hair, even though I actually didn’t usually like long hair on men. All combed and smooth, it really was beautiful—thick and glossy like his wolf coat, but lightened just a shade or two to an espresso color. Of their own accord, my fingers lingered for a moment on Tony’s neck, feeling the warmth of his skin.

  Focus, Julie.

  I started cutting, trimming the back to lay just a bit down his neck and then snipping each layer. As the length fell, his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck and the other layers followed, creating a tousled look. A just out of bed look. I moved through his hair, working on each section and trying to ignore the closeness of our bodies, the feel of his hair and skin under my fingers. My hands shook slightly. I moved to the front.

  Tony’s gaze fixed on me, darker than usual. I wasn’t sure of his thoughts.

  “Can you tilt your head up?”

  He complied, but not the way I wanted. I reached out put my hand on his chin, raised his head. My fingers paused a moment and ran along his jaw, feeling the rough hint of stubble under his smooth skin, the contrast in textures sending tingles up my arm.