Gypsy Moon

Evangeline Anderson

(c) 2005

ISBN 1-59578-143-9

Gypsy Moon

Evangeline Anderson

Published 2005

ISBN 1-59578-143-9

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Evangeline Anderson.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://lsbooks.com

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Editor

Chrissie Henderson

Cover Art

by April Martinez

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Raven and all the great staff at LSB for always being so

supportive and great to work with.

Prologue

A Romany camp in Europe sometime after the turn of the last century.

All was quiet in the gypsy camp, the wagons and booths shut down, and the fires

banked for the night. The few brave tourists whose curiosity had overcome their fear
were gone now, their interest satisfied by the colorful display they had witnessed. The
locals, who hadn’t been foolish enough to come in the first place, were safe in their beds,
some with crosses painted over their doors as a ward against the others who were among
them, if only for a while.

Hunched by the glowing embers of the fire, a man with dark skin and light eyes

brooded. His broad shoulders stretched the homespun shirt he wore and the muscles in
his large frame were bunched tight with tension.

Overhead the moon rode high in the sky, pale silver and burning with promise. The

man, Kore Lovare, could feel the burn in his blood, making his skin feel itchy and tight—
too small for his body. It was only three-quarters full—a waxing moon, what some called
a gypsy moon—and the pull wasn’t yet strong enough to trigger his change. For once, he
was glad, he had other things on his mind tonight than running with the moon. Suddenly,
a thin wail broke the silence of the camp and his head jerked up as though yanked by a
string.

There was another high, keening cry and then a door was opened in one of the

brightly painted wagons and a small, hunched figure came out. She nodded at the man,
now standing straight and stiff, his fists clenched at his sides as though in anticipation of
some important news.

“Droboy tume, Kore,” Be well, Kore, the old woman muttered, motioning for him to

sit back down.

“Nais tuke,” Thank you, he responded, ignoring her gesture. Then he burst out, “Is

my son well? Tell me, Taibhsear, I beg you.”

She nodded and held her wrinkled palms to the small warmth the dying embers

afforded. “Listen for yourself,” she said as another cry split the night. “He has a healthy
set of lungs, at least.”

“Don’t toy with me.” The man strode around the fire and crouched low to peer into

the wrinkled face. “You know the answer to the question of my heart, Taibhsear. You
know what I long to ask.”

“Ask then and be done with it. I’m too old to sit by the fire and listen to foolishness

all night.” She motioned to the dying coals.

The large man took a breath and closed his eyes briefly to compose himself. All day

he had carried this tension within himself as his boria, his wife, drew near to her time.
But as leader of the Vyusher Clachan, the Wolf Clan of the Rom, he could not show his
fear. Only now, when all were gone to their rightful rest could he ask the question that
had been dragging at his heart from the first moment his woman conceived.

“Taibhsear, I beg you,” he began formally spreading his large callused hands in a

symbol of supplication. “Tell me if the blood-curse will hold into my son’s generation or
if he will break it. Please…” His voice broke and he closed his eyes tightly to keep back

the tears—an unmanly sign of weakness and emotion. “Please tell me that he will not
bear the same heart-sorrow I do. To be joined to one while kal’enedral, blood-bound to
another. To long always for a woman he can never have…”

“Ah, Kore…” The wise woman bent her head and a look of sorrow passed over her

wrinkled features. “I wish I could tell what you long to hear,” she said at last, shaking her
head. “You’re a good man and a good leader, despite being a Vyusher, a wolf. But the
girl you tried to claim—her mother was a chovihani—a very strong witch. I warned you,
didn’t I, about trying to take a Xoraxai woman as your mate?”

Kore looked anguished. “That you did, Taibhsear. But I never dreamed that not only

I, but my son and my son’s sons would have to pay for my mistakes. So he won’t be able
to break the curse?”

The wise woman shook her head again. “Not your son, Kore, I’m sorry.”
He pounded a fist on his knee, his pale eyes filled with pain and rage. “Li’sa’eer,”

By the gods, he swore. “If only I had listened when you tried to warn me! I’d kill her if I
thought it would do any good.”

“She is beyond your reach now, gone to America,” the wise woman said

complacently, unmoved by his anger. “But listen, Kore, all hope to break the curse is not
lost.”

“No?” He looked at her, his face filled with a terrible need. “But I thought you said

neither I nor my son could break it.”

“True.” She rubbed her withered hands together over the coals for warmth. “But

there may be a chance for your son’s son—your grandson—to break the chains that bind
your line. By the third generation, the witch’s power will be weakened with time. But it’s
still a chancy thing, trying to break a blood-curse.”

“O ushalin zhala sar o kam mangela,” he sighed. The shadow moves as the sun

commands. “Will you at least tell me how the curse may be broken when the time
comes?”

“Nashti zhas vorta po drom o bango,” You cannot walk straight when the road is

bent, she replied formally. “You know I can’t tell you outright, Kore. But listen, I’ll tell
you what I can.” She threw back her head and the moonlight caressed her wrinkled
cheeks, making her young for an instant as the sight came upon her. Her thin old
woman’s voice grew low and strong as the foretelling poured forth.

“Thrice bound, by blood and lust and time
Thrice ten he seeks before he finds
As pale as snow, as bright as flame
Rom by blood, Gadje by name
The waxing moon shall mark the time
To break the curse upon his line
The one denied his sires by fate
He must find to be his mate
Timid as the mouse at noon
To rouse her to the rising moon
Thrice bitten must his chosen be
The number of her markings three
Once, on her his claim to stake
Twice, her Vyusher blood to wake

Thrice, to bind her to his side
And slake the lust that burns inside
Thrice bound, by blood and lust and time
His Te’sorthene he must find
As pale as snow, as bright as flame
Rom by blood, Gadje by name.”
Kore shook his head when she was done. “Thrice bitten? But that’s impossible,

Taibhsear. If she’s part Gadje, Other, even one bite from a Vyusher could make her mad.
Even girls of the Rom are not bitten more than twice, once to mark and once to mate.”

“I only know what the moon tells me.” She lowered her head, panting from the

strain. The sight was always hard, even on the strongest heart, and she was very old.
Almost it was time to pass her spirit to the girl she had chosen to be the next Taibhsear—
the one who would be the pack’s healer and spiritual guide when she was gone.
“Remember the words, Kore—store them deep in your soul and teach them to your son
that he in turn may teach them to his own son. Only in this way will the Lovare line ever
be free of the blood-curse the chovihani laid on you,” she said.

Another thin wail scratched the night. “I must go see to the babe,” she said, rising

unsteadily to her feet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what you longed to hear.”

Kore hastened to help her up. “It’s all right, Taibhsear,” he said quietly. “I know you

did your best and the fault is mine to begin with. Ashen Devlesa,” May you go with God.

She nodded gravely. “And you, Kore. And you.”
As the wise woman hobbled back to the brightly painted wagon where Kore’s

woman and new son lay, he looked toward the moon, again feeling its pull on his blood.
To be twice cursed, once by the moon and once by the mother of the girl he had hoped to
claim… He shook his head.

To be a Vyusher, a wolf, was not so bad, though the other Rom clans considered

them pale’cido, unclean or set apart. In a nation of outcasts, they were avoided even by
their own kind. There were none more feared, both for the curse of the moon, and for the
fact that the Vyusher women bore only sons. Their mates were culled from the other
clans—marked by a bite as children and stolen away on nights of the full moon as young
maidens to be turned into Vyusher themselves, by virtue of a second well-placed bite.
After a woman was turned, she could never go back to her own clan. She was a mulo, a
dead person to them.

Kore had been born a Vyusher and he would die one, so he thought nothing of the

moon’s curse. It was the second curse, the blood-curse that made him shiver and ache as
though with fever and chills when he thought of her—when he thought of Lilliana. Kore
shook his head. He should have listened when the wise woman warned him not to try to
claim her. The Xoraxai clan was a powerful enemy and now his blood and the blood of
his son would burn forever to make him pay. Burn for a woman of the Xoraxai clan that
they could never have. As Kore burned for Lilliana, so his son would burn for her
daughter and his son’s son would burn for her daughter’s daughter and so on forever until
the curse could be broken. And all because in his arrogance he had the impudence to try
to take a Xoraxai for his wife, for his Te’sorthene, his heart mate. Had he been from any
tribe but the Vyusher her mother would have welcomed him with open arms. Instead, she
had cursed him and his descendants to always want what they could never have—true
love.

“The curse … the blood-curse,” he murmured, still staring at the moon. It came to

him then that he must follow the moon, his mistress and his damnation. He must follow
her across the sea; leave the old country for America, where his son and his son’s son
might have a chance at peace. When the time came to break the curse, he knew he must
be close to Lilliana and her descendants.

“To break the curse. Oh, Lilliana,” he whispered, his deep voice rough with emotion.

Each day he burned for her like a dry twig in the fire, even while joined to another. No
other could slake his lust or engage his heart although his wife, to do her credit, tried.
What hell to inflict on his descendants! Still, what was done was done.

Tomorrow he would make preparations to move the pack to the new world and pray

to all the gods that ever were that he might find what he sought, if not for himself or his
son, then for his son’s son and all that came after…

Chapter 1

Wed. March 15th. Present day.
Four days before the full moon: Alissa O’Malley

My twenty-fifth birthday was the worst day of my life. I was evicted from my

apartment, got into a car wreck and lost my job. And all that was before I was turned into
a werewolf. But maybe I should start at the beginning.

The day started out in the usual way, and by that I mean with me groping for my

glasses and then staring frantically at my alarm clock, praying the blinking red digital
numbers it was showing me were wrong. Actually, I’m usually a morning person but
lately my shifts had been all screwed up and I was having a hard time adjusting. Also, I
had been up to almost three the night before, talking to my best friend and ex-roommate,
Viv. She’d gotten married and moved to Tallahassee three months before and we were
both having separation anxiety in a big way. Thank God for cell plans with free long
distance or I might have gone into girl-talk withdrawal.

I didn’t blame Viv for moving. Her husband, Larry, who had been our third

roommate before they got married, was a great guy and he’d had a job offer he couldn’t
refuse. But it did kind of put me at a loose end when it came to the pricey three-bedroom
condo we’d been sharing in the Soho district of Hyde Park—the trendy part of South
Tampa.

South Tampa has traditionally been where all the old money in town gravitates, but it

also happened to be close to my work at Tampa General Hospital, which is right on the
bay. The condo had seemed like a real find when there were three of us living in it, but
now that Viv and her husband Larry had moved out, I was having a hard time making the
rent. In fact, I was two months overdue. When I’d confessed as much to Viv the night
before on the phone, she’d been worried about me.

“It’s a great location, Lissa,” she’d said. “Haven’t you had any takers on the ad?”
“Oh sure.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “First there was the University of Tampa

student who asked me how I felt about music because she’s the lead singer in a grunge
band called Genital Menace. Then there was the guy who reeked of pot and kept calling
me ‘dude’. And let me not forget the girl who kept saying she liked my skirt and it would
go great with a top she had. She seemed to think renting half of the apartment meant
renting half my wardrobe too. Not like I have the nicest clothes but still…”

“That reminds me.” Viv sounded guilty. “I think I have a pair of your scrubs.”
“Don’t worry about it, just bring ‘em down when you come this weekend.” It was

going to be the first time we’d gotten together since she’d moved up to Tallahassee and I
couldn’t wait to see her.

“Okay, should I bring anything else?” Viv sounded as excited as a little girl getting

ready for her first slumber party.

“Just yourself,” I told her, grinning. “We’ll have the place all to ourselves, just like

before Larry moved in and stole your heart.”

“Speaking of which, I think I hear him calling. In a minute,” she yelled in my ear.

“Yes, I know how late it’s getting.”

I winced. “Geeze, Viv, burst my eardrum why don’t you.”
“Sorry,” she chirped, completely unrepentant. “Just me and my big mouth as usual.”

It was an acknowledged fact between us that Viv was the “noisy” one and I was the shy,
introspective half of our duo. “Listen,” she continued, “If you can’t find somebody you
like to room with, why not just borrow some money from your grandmother? Ask her to
take it out of your trust fund or something.”

I snorted. “Please. I’d rather be homeless. You know how she holds that over my

head. Speaking of which, I just remembered I promised to have dinner with her
tomorrow. She’s got it into her head to take me out for my birthday and you know what
it’s like going out in public with her.” I groaned pitifully.

My grandmother was a very opinionated woman and she didn’t mind letting

everyone within shouting distance hear her views, which, unfortunately, were far from
politically correct. I knew I would spend most of the dinner wishing I could crawl under
the table and die and I said so to Viv.

“Poor baby.” Viv’s voice dripped sympathy. “Well, don’t give up hope—I’ll be there

this weekend and we’ll do it up right. The first banana daiquiri is on me. And in the
meantime, keep looking for a roommate. Remember how long it took us to find Larry?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “That’s not a very good example, Viv. We gave Larry the

room because you knew immediately that he was ‘the one’. If I wait until I find a tall,
dark, handsome man who sweeps me off my feet to share the rent, I’ll be old and gray
and still living alone when I’m fifty.”

“Oh, stop with the pity party, Lissa. You’re going to find someone. What about

Doctor Addison, that cute neurologist you’re always talking about, hmmm?”

“Mike Addison doesn’t know I’m alive,” I said with a sigh. “But thanks for the

fantasy.”

“He might if you’d ever talk to him and didn’t hide behind those thick glasses,” she

snapped. This was a longstanding argument between us; Viv was always trying to get me
to “come out of my shell”. There was a low grumble from her end of the phone which
was probably Larry getting really pissed off in the background.

“Listen, hon, I really have to go,” Viv said. “Do you know it’s three in the

morning?” She sounded mildly surprised.

“Oh crap,” I groaned, rolling over to check my bedside clock. Sure enough, we’d

been talking for three hours, ever since I got off my four to twelve shift at TGH. “I’ve got
to get up in four hours,” I told her. “Unlike some people who can sleep in.”

“Hey, can I help it I’m a lady of leisure?” I could almost see the grin on her freckled

face. It always amazed me that while I’m a redhead and she’s a brunette, Viv has more
freckles than me. In fact, she has more freckles than just about anyone else I know, but
she wears them well. She’s also tall and thin whereas I’m short to normal and always
watching my weight. But I love her so much I forgive her for it.

“Actually, the job hunt starts tomorrow,” she continued, breaking into my thoughts.

“I’m sick of the desperate housewife routine.”

“I’m surprised you stood it as long as you did,” I told her. “Call me and tell me how

it went.”

“Will do, better run. Larry’s looking daggers at me. He has to get up early too.” She

made kissy noises at me and clicked off.

Determined not to sleep through the snooze, I set my clock radio alarm on the

loudest alternative rock station I knew and tried to get to sleep, still contemplating my
roommate situation.

Part of the problem was that I was so desperately shy—letting new people into my

life has never been a strong point for me. Also, Viv and I had been roommates all through
college and nursing school and I was set in my ways. I just wasn’t ready to take on
someone new—somebody who might want to stay up partying all night when I had a five
a.m. shift the next day, or smoke pot in the bathroom, or make a mess in the kitchen and
never clean it up. I liked my life nice and neat and stress-free but ever since Viv had
moved out and my supervisor started changing my shifts, it had been anything but. Little
did I know it was about to get a lot hairier—literally.

Pulling myself out of my reverie about my best friend, I looked groggily at my alarm

and realized I was supposed to be at work in fifteen minutes. Depending on the traffic on
Bayshore, I could usually get to TGH in around five to ten minutes, which left me barely
five to get dressed. I took the fastest shower in history and ran a brush through my long
fine red hair.

The only good thing about having hair with no body, I reflected as I brushed, was

that there was nothing to snarl the hairbrush. No matter what shampoo and conditioner
combination I used, it just lay there—flat and uninspiring. I had always wished I had
inherited my mother’s thick black hair and naturally tan complexion instead of the pasty
pale skin and carroty hair of my father’s side of the family. Instead, I looked every inch
of my Irish heritage—my last name, O’Malley, might as well have been stamped on my
forehead. Because she had been an orphan, I didn’t know what genes I had inherited from
my mother, but whatever they were, they certainly didn’t show.

Anyway, I had other things besides a bad hair day to worry about. If I was late again,

I knew my supervisor, Judith Wimberley, was definitely going to have something to say
about it. Never mind that she had been purposely changing my shifts around so often I
barely knew which end was up—there was going to be hell to pay if I punched in past
eight this morning.

There was no time to cover the dark circles beneath my pale blue eyes—make-up

would have to wait. Also I couldn’t bear the thought of shoving contact lenses into my
sleep-deprived eyes, so the thick glasses Viv was always nagging me about would have
to stay put. I grabbed the pair of antique silver earrings inherited from my mother, twisted
my hair into a knot at the back of my neck, threw on a set of Snoopy scrubs, and was out
the door so fast I almost missed the eviction notice taped to it.

Skidding to a halt, I snatched the paper off the door and studied the big black word,

Eviction, printed in block letters. I felt as if I was looking at a wanted poster with my
face on it. Scanning over the fine print beneath it, I noticed that I had a week to pay up or
get out. Great—I’d have to find a roommate or swallow my pride and ask my
grandmother for a loan against the fund. Neither option sounded appealing.

The only bright spot about the whole thing was that Bernie Tessenbacker, my slimy

landlord, hadn’t delivered the notice in person. Although I was sure I’d be hearing from
him in the next few days.

As I jogged down the hall, I thought about what a lousy birthday it was turning out to

be. If I had known what the rest of the day had in store for me, I probably would have
turned around and headed straight back to bed. But I was blissfully ignorant so I kept

right on going, thinking that if I hurried, I might be able to avoid being late for work for
the third time that month…

Chapter 2

The car that cut me off was a brand spanking new, hot pink Jaguar with a “Yield to

the Princess” bumper sticker. It looked like the Barbie-mobile and when the driver got
out, screaming at me for rear-ending her, I could see she matched her vehicle. She had
such an impossible hourglass figure I was willing to bet that if someone had flipped up
the flirty pink skirt she was wearing, they’d see “Matel” stamped on her ass. She stomped
over on pink spike heels, waving her arms in the air and cursing a mile a minute in some
foreign language while I stood there staring at the mess.

My little yellow VW bug only had a few scratches on its rounded front, but the back

bumper of the Jaguar was crumpled into a new and exciting shiny chrome sculpture by
the force of the collision. Yup, somebody’s insurance was going through the roof.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” the Barbie woman screamed in my face.

She had a tiny waist and long legs, which were emphasized by the pastel skirt and her
long black hair whipped around her perfectly made-up face. I had to repress a sigh. Of all
people to be in an accident with, it had to be a supermodel on a day when I was looking
my worst. Not that it was a competition, but I was sure I would have been able to hold
my own better if I wasn’t sans make-up, wearing my coke bottle glasses, with my hair in
a bun and my yellow Snoopy scrubs billowing in the brisk bay breeze.

“Look, if you hadn’t pulled out in front of me, I might not have hit you,” I said,

trying to keep calm and not let her intimidate me. It was true that I’d been going too fast,
but she had zipped out from a side street, giving me no time to slow down or avoid her.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the police cruiser that had been passing on the other
side of Bayshore make a U-turn and head for the curb where our cars were entwined.
Good, if the officer had seen the accident he would know it wasn’t my fault.

“Here comes a policeman,” I said. “We can let him settle it.”
“You drive like an idiot!” Barbie yelled, ignoring me. She had a thick, foreign accent

that made all her words sound clipped and guttural. She might look like Barbie with black
hair instead of blond, but she sounded like a Russian spy character out of a James Bond
movie. Not that I was paying much attention to her diction at that point, but clearly she
wasn’t hampered with the same southern upbringing that kept me from returning her
insults in kind. Still, there were limits.

“Your driving leaves a lot to be desired too,” I told her. “The way you pulled out in

front of me without even looking…”

“I do not have to look for the likes of you, Gadje.” She spat the word as though it

was the worst insult she knew. I know when I’m being sworn at, even when I don’t
exactly know what the swear words mean. I felt my face go red and then pale with anger.

“Well, you…” I began, only to be cut off by the voice of authority.
“All right, ladies. Everybody just calm down.” A uniformed officer strolled over

from the direction of the cruiser. He whipped out a notepad and looked between Barbie
and me. “Now what happened here?”

“Didn’t you see it?” I asked, which earned me a glare from behind the mirrored

glasses he was wearing.

“Just answer the question in your own words, Miss,” he said, pencil poised above his

pad.

“I was driving down Bayshore to TGH when she zipped out in front…” I began.
“Officer, I am driving and she is ramming her car into mine. I don’t know what is her

problem. Maybe she is drunk?” Barbie turned a venomous glance my way, her words
leaving me speechless.

“Miss, is this true?” The officer looked at me, his face stern.
“No!” I managed to spit out at last, glaring back at her. “I’m perfectly sober—I’m a

nurse and I was on my way to work when she…”

“She is a bad driver, not like you, I am guessing.” To my utter shock, the Barbie

woman stepped between the cop and me and pressed herself against him.

“Now, wait a minute…” he began. But then she reached up and tugged down his

mirrored glasses to look into his eyes.

“You are a good driver, yes?” she purred. Long blood-red fingernails, the only thing

about her that wasn’t pink, began climbing over his chest like a poisonous spider.

“Well, that goes without saying, but…”
“What is your name?” Barbie interrupted him. “I bet you are a very important man at

the police station, no?”

“Well, actually…”
“Excuse me,” I said, raising my voice a little to pry his attention away from Hot Sex

Barbie. This was the kind of situation that always made me wish I were a more assertive
person. If Viv had been there she would have been in the officer’s face, demanding an
explanation. “Excuse me,” I said again, louder, feeling stupid. Why couldn’t I think of
anything more constructive to say?

“In a moment, Miss,” the officer said vaguely. His eyes, when they wandered over to

me, looked strange—blue but with a hint of red far back in their depths.

Barbie looked over her shoulder and arched one perfectly shaped black eyebrow at

me. She gave me a little sneer, as if to say “forget it”, and went back to oozing sex at the
besotted officer, who was already writing the ticket.

Guess who got it.

Chapter 3

“Miss O’Malley, I’d like to see you in my office as soon as you finish clocking in.”
I repressed another sigh, and tried not to roll my eyes in the direction of my

supervisor, Judith Wimberley, who was hovering like a vulture over the time clock. She
had a long hooked nose with flaring nostrils and a narrow mouth pursed into a tight,
white line of disapproval. Despite the unfortunate nose and mouth, she might not have
been a bad-looking person if it weren’t for her nasty expression. She always looked as if
she’d been eating unripe persimmons.

“Look, Judith,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. “I’m sorry I’m late…”
“Late again,” she interrupted me.
“Late again,” I acknowledged, with a sigh. “But I got into a fender bender on the

way to work. Look, I’ve even got the ticket to prove it.” I pulled the crumpled white
piece of paper out of my handbag and waved it under her vulpine nose where two tiny
white dents had appeared on either side of her flaring nostrils.

“My office,” she repeated ominously. “Immediately, Miss O’Malley.”
Feeling like I was being called to the principal’s office at elementary school, I

clocked in and trudged down the long, industrial green hospital hallway. I knew why
Judith had it in for me—a month earlier I had happened to catch a mistake she was
making in one of the patient’s medication orders. She had been about to give a beta-
blocker to a patient with a secondary heart blockage—a mistake that probably would
have sent the patient into cardiac arrest. I had called her attention to it, thinking she
would want to know about her error, but that had turned out to be a bad idea.

Rather than being grateful I had saved the patient from an arrest and possible death,

Judith had been stiff and cold to me ever since. Also, my regular nine to five shift was
now a thing of the past. I never knew what time I would be scheduled anymore and my
body clock was all screwed up from working such different hours.

“Miss O’Malley,” she said formally, when I was seated in her tiny closet of an office

in a hard plastic chair. “I assume you know that the hospital has a zero tolerance policy
on tardiness.”

“Yes, but…”
“And you have been late clocking in no less than three times this month so far. Are

you aware of that?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling miserable.
“In accordance with hospital policy, I’m afraid we no longer have a place for you in

Skilled Nursing.” Judith smirked down her long nose at me, obviously enjoying the
situation.

I felt like I had swallowed a ball of lead. Fire me? Was she serious?
“But I…” I couldn’t think of anything to say, but Judith raised a hand, cutting me off

anyway.

“There is, however, an opening on B-9.”
“B-9?” My voice was a rusty croak. B-9 was the psychiatric wing, a locked ward that

housed only the most agitated and delusional patients. I knew what she was doing. She
was punishing me yet again for having the nerve to point out that she wasn’t perfect. Part

of me wanted to be angry but somehow all the nasty things that came to mind just
wouldn’t come out my mouth. I was already about to be homeless, I didn’t want to be
jobless too.

“But … but I haven’t been trained…” I began, before she cut me off.
“I’ll still be your supervisor, of course, since B-9 also falls under my jurisdiction.”

Judith wrinkled her long nose as though continuing to supervise me was a distasteful task
she couldn’t get out of. “And you’ll be expected to report on time for work, understand?”

Mutely, I nodded. I was concentrating on holding back the tears at this point.

Whatever else happened, I didn’t want to give Judith the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“All right, you can start immediately. Betty Tatum, the B-9 charge nurse is expecting

you.” She nodded, dismissing me from her office with a wave of her hand.

I stood to go, stuffing my hands, which were trembling with repressed emotion, into

the front pockets of my scrubs. I was halfway out the door when she called me back.
“Miss O’Malley, I’d like you to bear in mind that I’m being extremely lenient in this
matter and you are officially now on probation. If you have another incident of tardiness
in the next ninety days, it will result in your immediate termination. Understood?”

I nodded, not meeting her sharp vulture’s eyes, and ducked out of the office. I had to

get someplace private before I lost it.

Once inside a small linen closet around the corner from Judith’s office, I finally let

go. The eviction notice, the traffic ticket, and now being sent permanently to work on the
psychiatric ward … it was just too much.

My shoulders shook with anger as well as sorrow, as I cried. True, it had been a

really rotten morning, but I was upset with myself and the way I had handled it. Why had
I stood quietly by while the sex-obsessed cop gave me a ticket I didn’t deserve? Why had
I allowed Judith to grind me down and reassign me to the worst ward in the hospital
without so much as voicing one complaint? I hadn’t even been trained to deal with the
kind of patients in B-9—she was throwing me to the wolves. In hospital speak this kind
of thing was called “inappropriate assignment” and it was against TGH policy, yet I had
barely protested at all on my own behalf.

In my head I heard Viv’s voice telling me to stand up for myself, to march back to

Judith’s office and demand she stop treating me like shit just because I’d caught her in a
mistake. But somehow, I just couldn’t. Years of repression and introversion rose up and
stifled the words before they could form on my lips. I needed this job too much to take a
chance, I told myself.

Wiping my tear-fogged glasses with a plain white, sterile-smelling towel from the

stack in front of me, I squared my shoulders and got ready to go to work. It was going on
nine o’clock by that time and I knew that the charge nurse in B-9 would be wondering
where I was.

Just as I was reaching for the door it opened, seemingly on its own, and I found

myself face to face with Dr. Michael Addison. I’d had a secret crush on him from the first
minute he came on board at Skilled Nursing, or maybe not so secret, since Viv knew all
about it. He had thick blond wavy hair and big blue eyes—surfer boy looks, Viv called
them, and he was a terrible flirt. Although he never flirted with me, frankly, we had
barely ever even spoken. That wasn’t his fault though—somehow I always lost my nerve
and faded into the background whenever he was around.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t know anybody was in here.” Dr. Addison looked up from the

chart he was studying, his perfect blue eyes skimming over me to a stack of scrubs. “I
was just…” He grabbed a folded mint-green shirt off the top of the stack and waved it
vaguely, letting his action finish the sentence.

I held my breath. This was the part in a romance book where the handsome doctor

would notice the heroine’s distress and comfort her, pulling her disheveled but still lovely
face down to his broad shoulder and letting her cry before gently kissing her tears
away…

“Well, uh, sorry.” He ducked out of the room again, with barely a glance, his nose

still buried in the chart.

The prosaic reality of what had just happened as opposed to the fantasy going on in

my head almost made me laugh. Get over it, Lissa, I lectured myself sternly. In case you
haven’t noticed, your life is not a romance book. Squaring my shoulders for the second
time, I emerged from the linen closet and went to get on with my ordinary, if crappy, life.

Chapter 4

“Alissa, honey, how you doin’?”
I looked up to see Mrs. Watkins, one of the livelier patients on the Skilled Nursing

floor, wheeling toward me. She was an ancient African American woman who had lost
both her legs to diabetic neuropathy and most of her memory to a gentle kind of senility.
Despite all that, her attitude was as sweet and sunny as Judith’s was sour and nasty and
she always managed to remember my name.

“Hi, Mrs. Watkins.” I gave her a small smile, squeezed from the bottom of my soul

like the last of the toothpaste from a used-up tube. The twelve-hour shift I had just passed
in the psychiatric ward had been one of the longest of my life, and the thought of coming
back again and doing it tomorrow made me feel like my heart had been dipped in lead.
We had a few delusional patients on Skilled Nursing, which was pretty much a glorified
nursing home type setting, but nothing I had ever seen there compared to the insanity I
had been forced to deal with that day.

“Why, honey, what’s the matter? You look plum beat down,” she exclaimed,

wheeling a little closer. Her wrinkled, raisin-brown face was a map of concern; a brightly
patterned hand-knitted afghan was folded in her lap, hiding the place where her legs
should have been. Apparently, she was having one of her “bright” days.

“I feel beaten down,” I said, turning away from my nemesis, the time clock, to talk to

her. It wasn’t normally something I would admit to a patient, but Mrs. Watkins had been
a patient here since I had first come to TGH fresh out of nursing school, and she was
surprisingly easy to talk to. Besides, I knew she wouldn’t remember a thing I said five
minutes after I said it.

“Well, what’s wrong? I never see you but you’ve got that sweet little smile on your

face, and now it look like somebody come along and wiped it right off.” She gave me a
grin of her own, her false teeth flashing brilliant artificial white.

“Just a long day,” I said, smiling at her a little more easily. “It’s nice of you to notice

though. Have you seen your son lately?” Her son had died in nineteen seventy-seven, but
it was a fact she no longer remembered, and she loved to be asked about him.

“Lands sakes, no. Somebody got to nail that boy’s feet to the floor to get him to stay

in one place long enough to come visit his old mama.” She chuckled fondly, shaking her
gray head. “Reckon I’ll see him for Christmas though, it’s comin’ early this year.”

“I’m sure you will,” I said. “Well, Mrs. Watkins, I’d better get going. I have an early

shift tomorrow.” I smiled at her again, and headed for the exit.

“All right then, honey. Hey…” She grabbed my hand as I walked past, surprising

me.

“Yes, Mrs. Watkins?” I asked, bending down to get on an eye-level with her. Seen

up close, her face was like a relief map of creases and lines and she smelled strongly of
baby powder and Vics Vapor Rub.

“Don’t you worry, Alissa, things are on the move. I know you feelin’ low, but

somethin’s gonna shake loose soon, you’ll see.” Her usually cracked voice grew strong
and her brown eyes, clouded blue with cataracts, suddenly sharpened as they looked into
mine. “The moon is rising,” she said in the new, sonorous tone. “The gypsy moon…”

I pulled back from her a little, feeling a cold chill skitter down my spine. “Mrs.

Watkins? Are you okay?” I asked. I knew she was just wandering but for some reason her
words made me terribly uneasy.

“What?” She looked at me, blinking and confused. “Did you say somethin’, honey?”
I pushed the uneasy feeling to the back of my mind. Gently, I took back my hand and

patted her shoulder. “You be well and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

“All right, honey.” She nodded and her eyes went vague and sweet again. “You take

care, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled at her once more and headed for the exit. All I wanted was a

long hot bath to melt away the day’s tension, which had settled into my lower back and
throbbing temples like some sadist’s collection of broken glass and thumb tacks.
Unfortunately, I was a long way from getting it.

Chapter 5

Just as I was pulling into the parking space in front of my soon-to-be-ex-condo, my

cell phone rang. Thinking it was Viv calling to wish me a happy birthday, I answered
without looking at the number.

“Hey, you would not believe…” I started, before a cool, cultured voice cut me off.
“Alissa, where exactly are you? I thought I made it clear that I had reservations for

exactly eight thirty.” My grandmother’s voice drilled into my head despite her syrupy
southern accent.

I groaned before I could stop myself. “I completely forgot. I’ve just had such a lousy

day and I was hoping maybe we could take a rain check. See…”

“I’m already at the table,” she said. “And Philomena is starving. So I’ll expect you in

the next ten to fifteen minutes.” I heard a sharp, staccato barking in the background.
Philomena was her purebred Pomeranian that she took everywhere, and I do mean
everywhere. Even Our Lady of the Sacred Heart allowed her to bring the damn dog to
mass, which I suspected had more to do with my grandmother’s hefty contributions to the
offering than Father Ignatius’s love of animals.

“Grandmother, please,” I pleaded. “I’ve had a really rough day and…”
“Ten minutes at The Colonnade, Alissa. The staff are expecting you.” There was a

sharp click and I was talking to empty air.

I laid my head back against the seat for a moment and tried to take some deep,

calming breaths. Grandmother was one of the original socialites in Tampa and being both
wealthy and influential, she expected everyone to jump when she said frog, including me.

My parents had died in a car accident when I was only nine and since my father was

an only child and my mother was an orphan, it had fallen to Grandmother, who was my
father’s mother, to raise me. I was used to her preemptory attitude and could usually
tolerate her fairly well, but today of all days, I didn’t want to endure a long, drawn-out
fancy dinner where I would have to listen to everything I was doing wrong with my life
and exactly what I should do to fix it. I’d always thought it ironic that while I worked on
the Skilled Nursing floor of TGH and loved elderly people, the one senior citizen I didn’t
get along with was my own grandmother.

I rolled my neck, hearing small crackles and pops as some of the tension was

released. I was so tired I felt like my eyeballs had corners, but I knew if I skipped this
birthday dinner Grandmother had arranged, there would be hell to pay for months—
probably I wouldn’t hear the end of it until my twenty-sixth birthday. Doubtless, she
would assume I was coming because of the trust fund she dangled over my head like a
ripe fruit. The sad fact of the matter was that she didn’t need money to keep me in line.
She’d been doing that since she had come to pick me up in Savanna after my parents died
and taken me back to Tampa with her when I was only nine. Obeying her was almost a
force of habit with me.

Thinking of Grandmother and the fund she controlled made me realize that, if I could

stomach it, this would be a good time to ask about a loan from the money which wouldn’t
be officially mine until I was thirty-five. Why thirty-five? Because my grandmother
always claimed that “young people” didn’t have the proper respect for money and would

waste it on frivolous things. In my case, I would have “wasted” it on paying my nursing
school loans and my rent.

Grandmother hadn’t wanted me to be a nurse, preferring I follow in her footsteps

instead. That meant finding a wealthy husband she approved of and belonging to the
executive boards of several prominent charities instead of actually doing anything with
my life. She always said, “It is beneath an O’Malley to work like a common laborer.” As
though I wanted to go into construction or garbage collection instead of nursing.

If I had agreed to give up my job at TGH and go live in her Westchase mansion

where she could show me off at bridge parties and cotillions to the various eligible
grandsons of her friends, I knew all of my loans would magically disappear. Also, I could
be driving a car as fancy as Hot Sex Barbie’s from this morning’s accident and have
plenty of “spending money” whenever I asked. But I wasn’t about to do that.

Going to nursing school and moving out of Grandmother’s house in the first place

had been the one small rebellion in my life of conformity and towing the line. That was
why I hated like hell to ask for any of my trust fund money. It was the same as admitting
I couldn’t make it on my own after all—a huge backward step in a day that had already
been full of setbacks and disappointments.

Hunching my shoulders, I sat up and stabbed my key back in the ignition. At least

The Colonnade was just down Bayshore. If I was lucky I could be there, have dinner, and
be back in the bath that I so longed for in an hour and a half—two hours tops. Then I
promised myself to be in bed early and get plenty of rest before my next shift on B-9. If
today was any indication, I was going to need it.

Chapter 6

The Colonnade is a big old seafood restaurant overlooking the bay and it’s like

Mecca for Tampa’s well heeled senior citizens. The minute I walked in the door, I knew
two things: I was the youngest person there and my grandmother was getting impatient. I
could tell because, even way back in the plush lobby, I could hear her genteel voice
raised in some sort of protest, followed by a volley of snarling yips that could only be
Philomena adding her doggy two cents.

Cringing in embarrassment, I told the maitre d’ I was with Ms. O’Malley, whom we

could still hear haranguing the waiter.

“Ah, yes, you must be the granddaughter we’ve been hearing so much about.” The

look in his eyes was half reproof, half relief and I almost expected him to dress me down
for being late for the reservation. But clearly he had already been liberally tipped, with
the promise of more to come—Grandmother’s SOP when encountering any establishment
that was reluctant to allow a hyperactive Pomeranian through the doors. Instead of
berating me, the maitre d’ made a formal little half-bow and nodded in the direction of
the barking and Grandmother’s raised voice. “This way, Miss O’Malley.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, following him to the back of the restaurant. Sitting in one of

the mahogany and leather booths, against a plate glass window which gave a breathtaking
view of the bay, was my paternal grandmother O’Malley. As usual, she was ramrod
straight, her auburn hair, just touched with silver at the temples, perfectly coifed. She was
wearing a navy-blue jacket and blouse combo that would have done Jackie O. proud and I
swear, a pillbox hat and a pair of white cotton gloves that fastened at the wrist with tiny,
seed pearl buttons. For Grandmother, time had stopped sometime around the Kennedy
assassination right after grandfather O’Malley had died—she disapproved strongly of
anyone who acted otherwise.

Philomena was wearing a jacket exactly like my grandmother’s, which fit badly over

her bushy, fox-like body. I said a silent prayer of thanks that she wasn’t also wearing a
matching pillbox hat—it was probably back in the monstrous Cadillac Seville
Grandmother drove. The dog was standing on her hind legs with her forepaws planted
squarely on the mahogany table, exactly as though she was another person waiting for her
dinner, and yapping her head off, punctuating Grandmother’s remarks, as though
agreeing with her.

“And another thing,” Grandmother was telling the waiter, a young black man who

was keeping a respectful distance from the barking Philomena. “I don’t appreciate—oh,
Alissa, there you are,” she broke in, seeing me creep toward the table behind the long-
suffering maitre d’.

I could feel every elderly eye in the restaurant resting reprovingly on my back as I

stooped to kiss her cheek dutifully. As usual, she smelled strongly of Channel No.5 and
expensive face powder that could only be ordered from the Estee Lauder counter at
Burdines. As a little girl, that combination of smells had made me want to dive under the
bed and hide and I didn’t feel much different now.

“Hello, Grandmother,” I said, trying to smile. No Granny or Nanny or even Grandma

for her. She always insisted she had earned the title of Grandmother the hard way, by

raising me after my parents had passed away, and she intended to use it. “I’m sorry I’m
late,” I added.

“That’s quite all right, Alissa,” she replied, her accent making it sound like, “quaht

all raht.” However, by the steely look in her sharp green eyes, I knew I was not forgiven.
As though we weren’t making a big enough scene as it was, she rose from her side of the
booth and took me by the shoulders. “Let me look at you,” she said, loudly enough for
the whole restaurant to hear. “It’s been ages and ages since I saw you last.”

I winced, wishing she wouldn’t shout. The fact was, she was getting a little deaf but

was too vain to admit it and get a hearing aid. The result was that her cultured southern
voice carried like a bugle in the high-ceilinged room. There was nothing wrong with her
eyes, however.

“Really, Alissa, you might have dressed up a little.” She took in my crumbled

Snoopy scrubs with distaste. “A little make-up and a pretty hair-do goes a long way. How
do you ever expect to catch a husband if you don’t take a little effort with your personal
appearance?”

I wanted to tell her I looked like I did because I had spent the day working on the

psychiatric ward, but that would only provoke a loud round of “I told you so’s”, so I just
shook my head.

“It’s nice to see you too, Grandmother,” I said.
“Well then,” she sniffed. “Have a seat and we’ll order.” She snapped her white-

gloved fingers in the general direction of the maitre d’ who had been standing by like a
soldier at attention. Clearly he knew his ordeal wasn’t over, because he stepped up
quickly and nodded in Grandmother’s direction.

“Yes, madam?” he murmured, standing, as the waiter had, well back from the still-

snarling Philomena.

“I’d like a Long Island ice tea for myself and a Shirley Temple for my granddaughter

here,” she said, nodding at me. Then, no doubt lowering her voice to what she thought
was whisper level, she said, “And I’d like another waiter, if you please. One who isn’t
colored.”

“Grandmother,” I hissed, absolutely mortified.
“No offense,” she continued in her super loud whisper, completely ignoring me.

“They do well enough in the kitchen but this young man doesn’t seem to understand the
fine art of waiting tables yet, bless his heart, and my nerves are just too frazzled to deal
with this kind of drama tonight.”

“I see.” The maitre d’ nodded attentively and I wondered exactly how much she had

already tipped him. Putting up with her barking dog in a restaurant that supposedly didn’t
admit pets was one thing, but tolerating her inflammatory remarks about the wait staff
was something else—or at least it should have been, in my opinion.

One glance at the stony features of the young black waiter told me he had heard

everything she thought she was whispering. “I’m so sorry,” I said to him, keeping my
voice low. “She isn’t quite right in the head anymore. She … really, she doesn’t know
what she’s saying.” Of course it was a lie, but one I’d had to tell more than once in the
past.

Grandmother came from the Old South and as far as she was concerned, the Civil

Rights movement had never happened. Blacks and other “ethnics”, as she called them,
belonged in the background, behind the scenes at any social setting, as cooks and maids

and other subservient positions. This attitude was a constant embarrassment anytime I
was out with her in public, especially when she “whispered” incendiary remarks loud
enough for the whole restaurant to hear. For a while, I thought if I exposed her more to
other cultures, she might change but that had turned out to be a big mistake. I would still
rather have a root canal without Novocain than take her to a sushi bar again.

“I’m so sorry,” I said helplessly to the waiter.
“What are you saying, Alissa?” She looked at me sharply as the waiter retreated to

the kitchen in offended silence.

“Nothing, Grandmother.” I sighed. Could the day possibly get any worse?
“Have a seat and stop hovering there,” she said, nodding at the space across from

her. Philomena was still managing to take up the entire half of the booth with her small
bushy self and she growled and snapped at me when I approached.

“Can’t you move her or put her under the table or something?” I looked at the

Pomeranian with a distrust born of several encounters with her sharp little teeth. I had
been attacked by some kind of large dog when I was only five and I still had the scar on
the back of my right knee to prove it. The result was, I was never going to be a dog
person, not that Philomena’s nasty disposition and tendency to bite would have won me
over in the first place.

“Nonsense.” She looked shocked, as though I’d suggested she crawl under the table

herself. “She’s just a little testy, poor thing. You wouldn’t believe what she’s been
through lately.”

“What was that?” I asked, edging carefully into the booth with the snarling Pom.
“Well, the naughty little darling slipped right out of my arms as we were strolling

through the garden last night. She ran out behind the hedge and I heard her barking like a
crazy thing.”

“Kind of like now?” I muttered, looking at the hysterical dog, who really didn’t like

me, out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m sorry, what? You ought to speak up and stop mumbling, Alissa, I can’t hear a

word you say half the time.”

“Nothing,” I said, resigning myself to sitting half on, half off the side of the booth

while Philomena defended her territory vociferously. “Go on with the story,” I said more
loudly.

“Well, I came around the jasmine hedge—and you should see the flowers, they’re

just beginning to come out and they are beautiful, Alissa. Anyway, I came around the
hedge and what do you think I saw?”

“I don’t know,” I said wearily, thinking that the story, like the awful day I was

experiencing, was just never going to end.

“Why, my brave little Philomena was holding off the most enormous wolf. That’s

right—a wolf,” she said, obviously seeing my incredulous expression. “Those animal
control people can say anything they want about there not being wolves near Tampa—I
know what I saw.”

“So what happened then?” I asked, shooting a glance at the heroic Pomeranian

nearly foaming at the mouth beside me. She was growling steadily and acting more and
more aggressive. Even knowing her dislike for me, I didn’t think I’d ever seen her quite
so rabidly territorial before.

“Well, the brute nipped her once—just a passing thing on her hind leg, poor dear,

and then I shooed him away with a broom.”

“You took on a huge wolf with a broom?” I raised an eyebrow at her, reluctantly

impressed. She might be a stubborn, racist old bat but nobody could say Grandmother
didn’t have guts.

She nodded proudly. “I did—whacked him and sent him loping off into the woods by

the golf course. And let me tell you, the Westchase grounds and maintenance staff are
going to hear a thing or two from me about keeping strange animals off the property.
Why do they think I pay the taxes I do if not to be able to walk around my own gardens
in peace?”

Philomena yipped once, as though in agreement. I looked over cautiously and saw

she was indeed sporting a neat little white gauze bandage on her right hind leg.

“Grandmother,” I said uneasily, “Is Philomena up on her shots? If some other

animal—if a wolf bit her,” I amended hastily when she glared at me, “Well, it might have
given her something.”

“Not to worry, she’s perfectly fine, see?” She reached out to stroke the quivering,

bushy head beside me and Philomena’s warning growl grew to a crescendo.

“I don’t think you should…” I began, reaching a hand across the table to hold her

back when, in a blur of fox-colored fur, the Pomeranian snaked her head out and bit me
first and then Grandmother.

“Ow!” we both said, and I scooted out of the booth in a hurry. There was a line of

fresh blood trickling down my left index finger and Grandmother had a similar wound on
her right hand. Blood was blooming on her proper white cotton glove like an impatient
rose.

“Oh, Philomena, you naughty girl,” she scolded, pulling off the glove to examine the

damage.

“Are you sure she’s all right?” I asked, shooting the growling dog a doubtful glance.

It wasn’t the first time the nasty little dog had bitten me, but it was the first time I had
ever seen it bite her.

“She’s just fine, Alissa. Probably just starved to death, since we had to wait on you

so long to have dinner. Just look outside and see—it’s practically full dark. Waiter?
Waiter?” She waved her unhurt hand impatiently at one of the wait staff—this one
conspicuously Caucasian.

I looked out the window as she ordered a shrimp cocktail for the bad tempered dog

and fried green tomatoes for herself and me, and saw that she was right. The large floor-
to-ceiling plate glass window the booth was situated against showed the bay in total
darkness except for the occasional street light along Bayshore and the rising moon.

The moon was a pale, delicate blue and it was three quarters full—a waxing moon, I

remembered from some ancient astronomy lesson from my first year of college. Gypsy
moon, a voice whispered in my head. It rose out of the waters of the bay shining and
somehow perfect. I felt my finger, the one that Philomena had bitten, throb in sympathy
with the bone-white light rippling on the surface of the water. It was beautiful and for
some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

“…want, Alissa?”

Her sharp query brought me back to the present. I was still standing to one side of

the booth with my finger dripping blood, staring at the moon like one of my new patients
from B-9.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, trying to focus on her instead of the view out of the

window.

“I said, will you stop staring off into space and tell this nice gentleman what you’d

like to eat.” She sounded impatient but suddenly I didn’t care. My finger throbbed and
my head ached with the tension of the day. My eyes felt dry and gritty in their sockets
and there was a funny taste in myself—like iron filings and fresh blood.

I so didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to hear any more of my grandmother’s

racist remarks or put up with the insane Pomeranian one more minute. And forget
begging for a loan from the money in the trust fund that should legally be mine to do as I
pleased with. I just didn’t care anymore. So why am I here? Good question. Abruptly, I
decided I wasn’t going to stay.

“I don’t want anything,” I said, surprised at my own words. “I’ve had a long day and

I don’t feel like eating. I just want to go home, take a bath and go to bed. So that’s what
I’m going to do. Goodnight, Grandmother.”

“Why, Alissa… I just… you can’t…” Clearly she was at a loss for words, not

surprising since this was the only time in my entire life I’d ever spoken back to her. Part
of me wondered where I got the nerve to do it, but another part flat out didn’t give a
damn.

I turned and strolled from the restaurant, head up and finger dripping on the plush

carpet. Despite my horrible day, I was feeling pretty damn good.

Chapter 7

On the way home, my cell phone rang but I cut it off without looking at the number.

No doubt it was just Grandmother calling to tell me what an ungrateful wretch I was and
I wasn’t in the mood.

I caught myself staring out the window several times at the moon. That pale, perfect

light was mesmerizing as it climbed the sky above the bay. It made me feel fierce and
restless—like my skin didn’t quite fit anymore, if that makes any sense. It didn’t make
much sense to me, so I shrugged it off as an aftereffect of finally standing up to my
grandmother.

As I got out of my car and walked up the steps to the condo’s entrance, I heard what

sounded like a wolf howling somewhere in the distance. It was a high, wavering, lonely
sound that scratched at my soul and made me feel hollow inside. I dismissed it uneasily.
People in Hyde Park love their purebred dogs—probably it was just somebody’s
Weimaraner or Russian wolfhound howling at the moon.

I felt a little like howling at it myself, I had never seen the moonlight so bright in my

entire life. It seemed to pick up each tiny detail of the night and reflect it back to me. The
rustling fronds of the well-groomed palm trees, the sharp corners of the building in front
of me, each individual blade of grass in the lawn seemed separate and distinct. I had a
feeling that if I wanted to, I could have counted every last blade and leaf and come up
with a completely accurate number.

The banging of a car door somewhere startled me out of my strange reverie. I shook

my head, wondering what in the world I was thinking. Counting every blade of grass in
the lawn—was I nuts? I decided that I must be even more tired than I thought.

It had been an awful day and my finger still throbbed from the deranged

Pomeranian’s bite. My head ached, my back hurt, and the old scar on the back of my
knee from the dog bite I’d gotten when I was five was twingeing. Even my earlobes were
itching for some reason. I reached up and absently removed the antique silver earrings I’d
gotten from my mother. I needed a hot bath and a soft bed in that order and I’d be fine in
the morning.

I got the bath and the bed, setting my alarm extra early so I would be sure get up on

time for work, but sleep was a long time in coming. I was certain that after such an
emotionally exhausting day, I would drop straight into dreamland but I tossed and turned,
feeling restless in a way I never had before. My head and back were better, thanks to a
hefty dose of Ibuprofen, but my finger still ached which was silly, considering the bite
was little more than a scratch, not even half an inch long. And the old scar at the back of
my right knee was still throbbing in time with my finger like a second heartbeat. Why, I
didn’t know, but it nagged me like an itchy mosquito bite, making sleep almost
impossible.

Irritating little aches and pains are sometimes worse than a really big or serious

injury for keeping you awake and it was long past midnight when I nodded off. When
sleep finally came it was like falling down a long dark well with slick sides, and then, for
the first time, I had the dream…

The man was chained to the stone wall of a small circular cell. An opening overhead

allowed the brilliant moonlight to fill the small space except for a few shadows around
the perimeter. I saw him so clearly it was as if I was looking with my soul instead of my
eyes.

There were thick manacles around his wrists and a cruel silver collar bit into his

neck. I couldn’t see why, but I could tell he was in terrible pain. His head was bowed so I
couldn’t see his face but his chest was bare and I could see his biceps bulging and his
well defined pecs bunching as he pulled against the chains holding him to the gray stone
wall. His skin was a deep natural tan—what Grandmother would have called “swarthy”
with a sneer in her voice, and he had wavy curly hair twisted into a knot at the back of
his neck.

He pulled at the chains again and I heard a low, anguished groan come from his

powerful throat. The restraints that held him were a bright silver that shone in the glow
of the moon which rode high in the sky overhead. I wanted to go to him and ease his pain,
wanted to take off the too-tight manacles and collar that bound him, but I couldn’t—I
could only watch.

Suddenly, he looked up and I caught my breath. His face was like a carved marble

angel in a church, beautiful and terrible. He had a patrician nose and a short, neat
mustache and goatee, which framed his full, sensual mouth, making him look older than
his eyes said he was. And what eyes! They were the clearest I had ever seen, a shade
caught somewhere between pale blue and light green. The color reminded me of ocean
water around a tropical island. They stood out in his dark face like beacons calling me
and I couldn’t look away.

With those eyes and that face he should have been on the cover of GQ but when I

finally tore my gaze from his I saw that he did have imperfections. Two parallel scars
marred his cheeks on either side. The scar tissue was thick and white in the dark planes
of his proud face, drawn from the outer curve of each eye, across his high cheekbones, to
end at the corners of his mouth. The scars looked deliberate, as though he had been cut
or branded. I shivered at the idea of someone taking the time and effort to make sure the
wounds were so perfectly straight and even. Whoever had done it to him, wanted the
effect to be a lasting one, I could tell.

The ocean-colored eyes focused in my direction but I couldn’t tell if he could see me

or not.

“Kaski san, Gadje?” he muttered. His voice was hoarse and low, as though from

shouting and I thought he sounded utterly exhausted—a man at the end of his strength.
And that word—Gadje—where had I heard it before? I tried to think and couldn’t
remember.

The instinct to heal has always been strong in me. I guess that’s why I became a

nurse despite all of Grandmother’s opposition. I wanted to help this strange man, in
bondage for whatever reason. I felt almost as though I knew him although I was sure I
had never seen him before in my life.

I took a step forward, into the light of the moon that poured its brilliance down upon

us like a spotlight. “I’m sorry,” I said, tentatively. “I want to help you but I don’t know
how. And, I don’t understand your language.”

He licked his lips, which looked cracked and sore. “I said… I said, who are you?”

His voice was clear and low and I thought if he sang, he’d be a baritone or a bass.

“Alissa O’Malley,” I said, taking another step toward him. “Who are you?” He

didn’t answer my question.

“O’Malley?” The ocean-colored eyes widened and he leaned forward, tugging

fiercely on the chains. “Is that what you said? O’Malley?”

“Well, yes.” I drew back, a little frightened of his intense gaze.
“Then you are the one I’ve been searching for—my Te’sorthene! Devlesa avilan!”

he said, clearly slipping back into his native language in his excitement. Leaning forward
to the far limit of the cruel silver chains, he stared at my face, as though trying to
memorize me. “As the foretelling said,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. “One who is
pale as snow and bright as flame.”

“Foretelling?” I shrugged, bewildered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Suddenly a blaring noise filled the air around us, shattering the moonlight like a

stone dropped into the center of a still pond. “I can’t get no… Na-na-na-na…
Satisfaction… Na-na-na-na!” someone screamed in my ear. I felt the dream wavering,
and a roil of cloudy smoke separated me from the man in chains.

“Wait, wait! Come back!” I heard him shouting, but I was helpless to obey. The

shouting in my ear had shattered the dream irrevocably. The last thing I heard him say
was something else in that strange, guttural language. “Me mangav te jav ando granitza
tumensa!” he shouted hoarsely, his deep voice breaking with desperate emotion. And
then…

I woke up.

Chapter 8

Thursday March 16th: Three days before the full moon.

“God, what a messed up dream.” I sat up in bed, running a hand through my tangled

hair and slapped at the super-loud clock radio where the Stones were still singing about
satisfaction. I had never realized how piercing Mick Jagger’s voice was before—it felt
like my eardrums were about to burst. Well, that was what I got for setting the radio to
the oldies station.

I stumbled out of bed and was halfway to the bathroom before I realized I had

forgotten my glasses. Because I’m so nearsighted, they’re usually the last things I take off
at night and the first thing I reach for in the morning. Snagging them, I perched them on
my nose and promptly fell over.

Luckily, the bed was there to catch me, but suddenly everything was horribly blurry.

I squinted at the room warily and got a stabbing pain in my head for my efforts. What
was wrong with me? Was I having some kind of a stroke or a pre-syncopal episode?

I pulled off my glasses and pinched the sides of my nose fiercely, willing the room to

come back into focus. When I looked up, everything was sharp and clear again.
Wonderful. I started to put on my glasses again … and stopped.

Wait a minute. Everything was sharp and clear? Without my coke-bottle glasses?

Hesitantly, I raised the thick lenses to my face again and was again hit with a dizzying
wave of blurriness. What the hell was going on? Was someone playing some kind of
weird joke on me? And if so, how?

My bedside table rang, startling me out of my close inspection of the ugly black

frames that housed my thick lenses. Still clutching them in one hand, I fumbled for the
receiver with the other.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Viv’s perky voice drilled into my ear.
“Morning, Viv,” I grumbled, still staring at my glasses.
“Well, gee, this is all the thanks I get for calling to wish you a belated happy

birthday?”

“Um, sorry.” I put the glasses in my lap and tried to concentrate on the conversation.

“I’m just… I had a weird dream and I guess I’m not quite awake yet.”

“Oh, long night, huh?”
“I don’t have time to tell you everything, but…” I gave her the highlights of my

horrible birthday, culminating in my final confrontation with my grandmother and the
birthday dinner that had been cut short. When I finished, there was complete silence on
the other end of the phone for a full five seconds. Then Viv let loose a whoop that nearly
took my ear off.

“Viv, dammit! Do you mind?” I winced and held the phone at arms length. Was she

getting louder or did I need to adjust the volume control on the phone?

“Sorry, Lissa, but I just can’t believe you finally told the old bat off!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “Fat lot of good it’ll probably do me. She’ll probably push

the damn trust fund age up to forty five. I’ll have a nice retirement fund.”

“Oh, stop it,” she scolded. “You’ve never relied on her money before and you’re not

going to start now. I’m just so glad you finally grew a pair.”

“That’s me,” I said, wryly. “Big balls O’Malley. But listen, that’s old news—I’m on

to new weird stuff this morning.”

“Weirder than telling your grandmother where to stick it?” Viv still sounded gleeful.

Larry was African American and Grandmother had refused the invitation to their
wedding because of it, despite the fact that I was the maid of honor. My best friend can
carry a grudge with the best of them and Grandmother had been officially on her shit list
ever since.

“Weirder than me telling her where to stick it,” I affirmed, lifting my glasses and

staring through the lenses again. It was like looking into a deep pond filled with wavery
light—there was simply no wearing them. Hesitantly, I put a fingertip to my eye to see if
I had somehow fallen asleep wearing my contact lenses. But no—I had neither contacts
or glasses on, yet my vision was perfect. In fact, better than perfect. I could make out
details from across the room and even into the bathroom that used to be blurry even with
my glasses.

“Well?” Viv sounded impatient and I realized my mind had been wandering.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “Spill it, Lissa.”
Hesitantly, I told her, wondering what she would make of it. Viv had spent time as a

nurse to a leading neurologist in town for a while so she might have more insight into it
than me.

“So that’s it?” she asked, after I explained. “Your vision is suddenly perfect?”
“Yeah. Do you think… I mean, could it be a tumor or something?”
“Are you having double vision or any loss in your range of vision? Floaters or black

spots?”

I shook my head and then realized she couldn’t see me. “Nope.”
“Well then, I mean if your vision suddenly got worse or you fainted…”
“Nope,” I said again. “Just this weird twenty-twenty thing going on.”
“Well, run down to Radiology on your next shift and see if one of the MRI techs will

scan you if you want, or better yet, ask Doctor Addison to check you out, he’s a
neurologist, isn’t he? What a great excuse to flirt! But I don’t think it’s any kind of a
tumor or neurological problem.”

“What could it be, then?” Reluctantly, I put the glasses on the dresser beside my

alarm clock. Clearly, I wouldn’t be wearing them that day for whatever reason.

“Maybe it’s hormonal—I’ve heard of stranger things. Is it that time of the month?”
“Just got off,” I replied, still eyeing the glasses as though they were a snake that

might lunge for me.

“There you go—postmenstrual changes,” she said. “Get a scan if you want to be on

the safe side but I bet it’s nothing serious. Anyway—it’s a good thing, right? I’ve always
hated those ugly things and you have such pretty eyes. Better to let them show. Any other
problems?”

I started to say no and then realized that my finger, the one Philomena had nipped,

was still throbbing. Could I have contracted some weird hybrid strain of rabies from the
deranged Pomeranian? But I had never heard of any disease process that suddenly
corrected your vision. Glancing at the clock, I noticed how sharp and bright the blinking
red numerals were…

“Oh, my God, Viv,” I gasped, as the time sank in. “I’ve gotta go. If I’m late again I’ll

lose my job.”

“Okay, see you Saturday, birthday girl!”
I hung up while she was still making kissy noises. Time to haul ass.

Chapter 9

By the third time Mr. Grovener removed his pants I was ready to quit and head

straight for the unemployment line. He was still reasonably non-violent and mobile, so he
wasn’t restrained in his bed as some of the more agitated patients were. But a non-violent
flasher is still a flasher and he didn’t have anything I was interested in seeing, especially
not three times in a row.

“Put your pants back on, Mr. Grovener,” I told him as sternly as I could. “You’re

going to shock some of the ladies in the ward and I know you don’t want that.”

“Oh dear, you’re right!” At one time Mr. Grovener had been a well-respected

member of the community and a deacon in the first Baptist church downtown. Luckily,
he still retained enough of that side of his personality for an appeal of decency to work. I
sighed as he slipped back into the blue checked pajama bottoms, knowing he would
forget and take them off again in another minute or so. He wandered off down the hall
muttering to himself, and I went back to getting the morning meds ready.

I had only been in B-9 two days but already it seemed like the charge nurse, Betty

Tatum, was under orders from Judith to make my life as hard as possible. I had been
assigned the rowdiest patients and I had next to no help. In addition, the other nurses on
the ward would barely speak to me. It made me wonder what kinds of rumors were being
spread about me to make my peers ostracize me this way.

It wasn’t just a case of having my feelings hurt either—if Judith or Betty were saying

that I was incompetent or untrustworthy it could affect my ability to do my job. No one in
a medical-legal heavy environment like a big hospital wants to be associated with
someone who might make a fatal error in judgment.

If I had been a different person, I could have been spreading around the story of

Judith and the patient with a secondary blockage who almost received beta-blockers,
which was no doubt why she was doing all this to me in the first place. Do unto others
before they do unto you was obviously her philosophy and in keeping with that, she had
screwed me to the wall.

I sighed, pulling my attention back to the tray of meds I was preparing. The nurses'

station was deserted, the rest of the nurses having been called to some kind of in-
service—a type of in-hospital training session I hadn’t been included in. It was a huge
breech of hospital protocol to leave me alone on a locked ward with no help, but short of
going to Human Relations and implicating not only Judith and Betty, but also every other
nurse on B-9, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Since the last thing I wanted was
even more distrust from my peers, I soldiered on grimly.

“Miss Nurse! Miss Nurse!” A voice broke into my thoughts and I looked up to see

Odalia Thornblossom marching regally down the hall, pushing her wheelchair, her long
white hair in a tangle down her back. For some reason she always preferred pushing the
chair to riding in it. Right behind her, in the never-ending parade of dementia, came
Elmer White, nodding and grinning vacantly.

I sighed. “Yes, Mrs. Thornblossom?”
“Would you please tell him to give me back my spare teeth?” She nodded over her

shoulder at the grinning Mr. White. “He’s taken them again!”

“All right, Mr. White, give them back,” I directed, looking pointedly at the bulging

pockets of his ratty green bathrobe.

“Haven’t got ‘em,” he replied promptly. “Cross my heart.” He didn’t draw an X over

his heart however, instead he raised both hands in the air and waved them slowly back
and forth, as though he was a piece of seaweed under the water in a current only he could
feel.

“Then what are these?” Mrs. Thornblossom took the opportunity of his raised hands

to snatch a pair of stained pink dentures from his pocket. “And these? And these?” She
pulled out four or five more mismatched sets of upper and lower plates and I realized
with a sinking heart that Mr. White had gone on a raid again. A distinguished real estate
lawyer in his pre-Alzheimer’s life, he had begun a second career as a kleptomaniac
shortly after being admitted. I had heard that the last time this had happened, it had taken
the staff a good week to figure out whose teeth were whose.

“I have found them! They are recovered!” screeched Mrs. Thornblossom in a voice

that seemed loud enough to split my skull. “Oh, praise be!” she went on, and I saw she
was going to get religious, which was bad. When she got religious, it inevitably led to
agitation and violence. The situation was going to get very ugly in a moment if I didn’t
nip it in the bud.

“Come on, Mrs. Thornblossom, back to your room,” I said, trying to ease the

multiple sets of false teeth out of her hands and get her into the wheelchair at the same
time. But it was too late—she was already praying.

“Oh, Heavenly Lobster,” she began in a trembling voice, still holding tight to the

jumble of mismatched plates.

“Mine!” Mr. White suddenly came to life and snatched back some of the dentures.

The rest fell on the floor and lay in a pink and yellow heap grinning up at me mockingly.

“No!” shrieked Mrs. Thornblossom.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see Mr. Grovener, now as naked

as the day he’d been born and obviously feeling fine about it. I was reminded of a quote
from one of my favorite books… “Large as life and twice as natural.”

Another shriek pried my attention from the geriatric nudist, back to the fervently

praying Mrs. Thornblossom and the thieving Mr. White. Grabbing the phone, I paged
madly, giving a triple code green—patient out of control and possibly violent. Nobody
answered or showed—big surprise.

“Hey—what the hell’s going on around here?” I turned again to find myself face to

face with an agitated Dr. Addison. His perfect blond hair was rumpled and his blue eyes
were practically bulging from their sockets. “What’s happening—can’t you control
them?” he demanded.

“Excuse me?” Normally I would have ducked my head and apologized for the

situation, but I was at the end of my rope. I planted my hand on my hips and raised my
voice to be heard above the cacophony. “How about giving me a hand instead of standing
there asking stupid questions?” I heard myself ask. As soon as the words were out of my
mouth, I shut it with a snap. Where the hell had that come from?

Dr. Addison looked just as shocked as I was, but after a moment he nodded and

actually started to help. Well, I thought as I corralled the false teeth and got Mrs.
Thornblossom back into her room, maybe being mouthy has its benefits. Of course, Viv
had been trying to tell me that for years.

When I got back, Mr. White was gone, hopefully back to his room or the lounge

where everything was bolted down, and Mr. Grovener was once more dressed. True, his
pants were backwards and his shirt was inside out, but at least he was covered. I nodded
to myself. Not bad for a doctor. Then, surprising myself again, I said it out loud.

“Not bad for a doctor.”
Doctor Addison looked at me strangely and then suddenly grinned. “Well, you

know—I’m better at treating them than dressing them but I do my best.” He sidled a little
closer, still giving me that hundred-watt smile, and it dawned on me what he was doing.
He was turning on the charm—Dr. Addison was actually flirting with me. Me, the plain
little mouse he’d never noticed before. The thought made me nervous in a pleasant way,
but it didn’t stop my mouth.

“Now if you can just get him to keep the clothes on, you’ll be my hero,” I returned,

flirting right back.

He raised an eyebrow and pretended to look stumped. “I don’t know about that—I

think it’s past the limits of modern medicine. I mean, if a man has to take off his pants to
show you what you’re missing, then maybe it’s your problem, not his.” He raised an
eyebrow, daring me to come back at him.

The sexual innuendo made me uncomfortable, but I wasn’t about to show it. I was

having way too much fun flirting for practically the first time in my life. I sniffed and
tossed my hair, which seemed to actually have some body this morning.

“My problem?” I said. “Maybe it’s your problem. Are you sure you’re not projecting

your own inadequacies onto poor Mr. Grovener?” I nodded at the patient who was
wandering down the hall, humming and happily fiddling with his backwards pants. In
another minute, they’d be back around his ankles but I no longer cared.

“And what would you know about my inadequacies as you put it, hmm?” Doctor

Addison stepped just a little closer and I could smell his aftershave—something
expensive and a little too sweet for my taste. “I promise if you give me a chance I’ll
prove I’m more than adequate…What’s your name again? Eliza?”

“Alissa,” I corrected him.
“Alissa,” he repeated thoughtfully, rolling the syllables on his tongue. “A beautiful

name for a beautiful lady.”

“Well… thank you, Doctor Addison,” I said, flustered at last.
“You’re more than welcome. And you can call me Mike.” He stepped closer,

invading my space and actually reached up to brush my cheek. Despite all the times I’d
fantasized about something like this happening, I found that I didn’t like his touch on my
skin. It made me distinctly uncomfortable although I knew this was just his way of
flirting—part of his charming guy routine. I’d seen him do it with other nurses on the
floor often enough, I just couldn’t believe he was doing it with me.

“You know,” he said, still giving me the hundred-watt smile. “I’ve seen you around

before but you seem different somehow today. You look different.”

“It’s, um, my glasses.” I took a step back and motioned to my face. “I’m not wearing

them today.”

“The better to see those gorgeous blue eyes,” he murmured, stepping forward to

make up for the space I’d put between us.

“Excuse me, Doctor Addison, uh, Mike, I have to give out these meds.” Taking the

tray, I turned to go down the industrial green and tan hall.

“All right then, maybe I’ll see you around.” His voice sounded speculative.
“Maybe you will and maybe you won’t,” I threw over my shoulder, feeling daring.
I turned the corner and ran smack into Betty Tatum, the B-9 charge nurse. She was a

large woman—not so much fat as solid. Built like a tank that was always in full battle
mode. I had never yet seen her smile and today was no exception.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said, bending to pick up the tray of scattered medicine. She made

no move to help, standing with her hands on her hips and staring down at me like I was a
specimen under the microscope while I scrambled to get the drugs off the floor.

When I stood up, she was still staring at me, an unreadable look on her stony

features. “Yes?” I said pointedly, motioning with the tray of meds.

“I think it’s time we had a chat about unnecessary paging,” she said with no

preamble.

“Unnecessary what?” I asked, not following her.
“Paging.” She crossed her arms over her massive bosom and continued to stare at

me. “I was trying to hold an in-service and your overhead announcement disrupted
everyone’s attention.”

In the past I might have ducked my head and mumbled an apology, but I felt my new

temper rising, the same one that had made me walk out on my grandmother the night
before and let me stand up to Doctor Addison as well.

“Listen, that ‘unnecessary paging’ as you put it, was a call for help. All hell was

breaking loose and I was alone on the floor.” I stopped short of reminding her that it was
against hospital policy for one person to be left alone as she had left me. She knew
perfectly well what she had done and I was pretty sure it had been done on purpose.

“Well if a situation arises, you should be qualified to handle it,” she returned.
“I haven’t been trained to work on this wing,” I reminded her. “My area of specialty

is Skilled Nursing. I’m doing the best I can but if anybody needed that in-service today, it
was me.”

Thick black eyebrows furrowed over her small, piggy eyes and the corners of her

thin, liver-colored lips began to draw down. Well, at least I had gotten some expression
out of her.

“I was warned about you,” she said at last. “And I want you to know that I’ll be

keeping a very close eye on you, Miss O’Malley.”

“Thanks, it’s comforting to have a supervisor who cares,” I threw back, not

bothering to hide my sarcasm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have patients waiting for their
meds. Mr. Sandburg starts doing the hokey-pokey in his birthday suit if he doesn’t get his
anti-psychotics by nine.”

I brushed past her, knowing I hadn’t heard the end of this. It was clear that Judith had

told her that I was some kind of a troublemaker. Well, maybe I am, I thought.

Chapter 10

The good mood I’d been in from flirting with Doctor Addison and standing up to

Betty the bitchy charge nurse lasted until lunchtime when I finally got a chance to take a
quick break. The other nurses had come back from the in-service and though some of
them threw me pitying glances, none of them offered to talk to me much. Again I got the
distinct feeling that I was being ostracized—probably on Judith’s orders. This kind of
work environment was going to get old fast.

In the cafeteria I by-passed my usual salad and grabbed a burger. I’m not usually

much of a meat-eater but I had a sudden craving I couldn’t deny, so I promised myself to
hit the gym soon to make up for my grease feast. It was big and juicy and it tasted
wonderful—better than any burger I could ever remember having. I wondered if they
were using some new kind of meat or seasoning. The only thing that might have made it
better was if it had been just a little bit rarer. I polished off the burger, still wishing it a
little less cooked without registering the fact that I had never in my life ordered any cut of
meat less than well done.

After eating I stopped by the restroom. I knew that once I got back to B-9 I was

going to be run off my feet again with no time for bathroom breaks. More and more I
missed my old job on the Skilled Nursing floor and I was beginning to think that if I saw
Judith around I was going to give her a piece of my mind—something I should have done
the day before when she assigned me there in the first place.

This kind of radical, (for me anyway) thinking occupied my mind until I was at the

sink washing my hands. Just as I was reaching for a paper towel, I happened to look up at
myself in the mirror and what I saw froze me to the spot, my hands still dripping water
and my mouth open in shock.

“You look different,” Doctor Addison had said and he was right—I looked different

in a big way. I hadn’t had time to do more than glance in the mirror that morning and had
only registered that my usually limp and lifeless hair had a little body for a change. But
now, standing in front of the mirror and staring at my reflection, I saw that it had more
than a little body—it actually looked thicker. I raised one wet hand to verify the fact but
there could be no denying it, the long flowing mass was wavy and shiny and thick. Talk
about a good hair day—I looked like a shampoo commercial.

But the texture wasn’t the only change to my mane—it was a least a full two shades

darker than it had been the last time I really looked at it. I stared in wonder at the thick
flame-colored tresses that had replaced my limp carrot-colored locks. I had always hated
having orange-ish hair and used to pray as a teenager that it would darken to more of a
true red. Grandmother, of course, had never allowed me to dye it. Now my wish was
coming true but I had no idea how or why.

I leaned in toward the mirror and stared hard at my reflection, feeling as if I was

looking at someone else. Then I noticed something else—my eyes were darker too.
Instead of the pale, wishy-washy blue I was used to, I saw brilliant cornflower irises
staring back at me.

I felt my face with still-wet hands anxiously, trying to see if anything else was

different. Was my bone structure changing too? My own snub nose with a smattering of

freckles across the bridge, and my full pink lips looked the same—except pinker. So
apparently my beauty was literally skin deep. I shook my head, feeling confused and a
little frightened—I looked like someone had done an extreme makeover on me although
it wasn’t anything my co-workers would notice except to think I’d dyed my hair and was
wearing colored contact lenses.

“What’s happening to me?” I said out loud and was startled by the banging of a stall

door. An X-ray tech I knew in passing from Radiology came out and gave me a strange
look. She’d obviously heard me talking to myself—how embarrassing! My first instinct
was to scuttle out of the bathroom without meeting her eyes. Instead, I straightened my
spine, smiled at her and shrugged. “Long day on the Psych ward,” I said. “I’m beginning
to feel like one of my patients.”

She smiled back and nodded. “I know how you feel. Doctor Skutter is on a rampage

down in Radiology today. I’m about ready for the loony bin myself.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” I grinned at her and told her about the mess that morning with

the false teeth and the way Mr. Grovener was determined to go pantless.

“Oh my God!” She cupped a hand over her mouth and giggled. “That’s too funny.

I’ve been up there two or three times to take portable chest X-rays but I guess I’ve never
seen it in full crisis mode. How do you stand it?”

“Not very well,” I confessed, thinking again how much I missed my old job in the

Skilled Nursing floor. I looked at my watch, noting that my hands were almost dry—
we’d been talking for a while. “Speaking of which, I have to get back.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back to Radiology.” She turned to go and then

turned back. “Hey, you’re Lisa, right?”

“Alissa,” I corrected her. “And you are?”
“Tandy.” She laughed. “I’ve seen you around sometimes but…”
“I know, but there’s never time to talk.” I nodded as we both headed for the door.
“Well, next time I come to B-9 I’ll look you up. Bye.” She grinned at me and headed

in the direction of the Radiology department. Staring after her, I realized that I had
inadvertently almost made a friend, a fact that almost took my mind off my altered
appearance. It just wasn’t like me to be so… open.

As a child, I was always shy and withdrawn, and after my parents died it only got

worse. I don’t think I had a real friend all through high school—I was the classic
wallflower, the girl who never had a date to the prom or got asked to homecoming. After
all, even if I had managed to make a friend, it wasn’t like I would’ve been allowed to
bring her home. Grandmother had very strict policies about who came in and out of the
house.

Once I started college, I hoped things would change for me and they did after I met

Viv in an entry-level biology class. She was assigned to be my lab partner and decided to
befriend me, probably out of pity as much as the fact that I was better at the lab
assignments than she was. It took her a while to get in under my radar but Viv was
patient and by the end of the semester we were best friends and on our way to becoming
roommates.

Viv was the one who had convinced me I could make it on my own, away from my

controlling grandmother. She had encouraged me to go to nursing school too, when I
confided it was my secret dream, despite Grandmother’s opposition to the idea.

I sighed as I thought of my best friend while trudging back up to B-9. I missed Viv

terribly—she’d been the only person in my life I could really talk to and somehow phone
conversations, while wonderful, weren’t quite the same. I wondered what she would say
to my new look on Saturday when I picked her up from the airport—surely she couldn’t
blame everything that was happening to me on post-menstrual hormones.

I winced as my finger twinged again where Philomena had nipped me and the old

scar on my knee gave an answering ache. Could the physical changes I was experiencing
have anything to do with her bite? But again, I had never heard of a disease process that
darkened the pigmentation of the eyes and hair and improved your vision. It was just…
weird.

Little did I know that my life was only going to get progressively weirder.

Chapter 11

On the drive home, squinting against the orange glow of the setting sun, it occurred

to me that I wasn’t the only one who’d been bitten. Grandmother had gotten nipped as
well—could she be experiencing the same symptoms I was? I debated with myself about
calling her but finally guilt won out.

She answered on the second ring with a stiffness in her voice that told me her caller

ID had let her know it was me on the other end of the line.

“Yes, Alissa?” she said, and waited. Doubtless she was wondering when I would

make the expected apology for my behavior the night before, but she would be waiting a
long time for that. I had already decided I didn’t feel like apologizing.

“Grandmother,” I said, with no preamble. “Have you noticed any physical changes in

yourself since Philomena bit you?”

“Have I what?” She sounded incredulous.
“Have you noticed any changes since she bit you?” I repeated patiently, steering

around an elderly driver who was doing thirty miles an hour in the fast lane. “Like
possibly darker hair or eye color or sharper vision?”

“Alissa, what are you babbling on about?” she demanded. “I thought you were

calling to apologize for your behavior last night. You were unforgivably rude, you
know.”

“Then don’t forgive me,” I said sharply. “I left after you made racist remarks loud

enough for the entire restaurant to hear and your dog bit me. Under the circumstances, it
was the nicest thing I could do.”

“Well… I just can’t believe this.” She was clearly at a loss for words for a moment,

obviously wondering how to deal with this strange new granddaughter who actually
spoke up for herself instead of meekly obeying orders and accepting criticism without
complaint. “What has gotten into you lately, Alissa?” she asked sharply. “I have to say
that I don’t care for this nasty new attitude of yours one bit.”

I sighed deeply and tried to rein in the new temper I had suddenly grown. “Look,

Grandmother, I didn’t call to fight with you.”

“But you didn’t call to apologize either, did you?” she demanded.
“No I didn’t—I don’t think I should always have to be the one to apologize,” I said,

swerving to avoid a truck that was taking its side out of the middle of the road. “We were
both at fault last night,” I added, which I thought was a very generous understatement.

She was silent again for a moment, clearly soaking this in. “Common courtesy is

always in style, contrary to what you young people seem to think,” she finally said,
switching tactics on me. “Until you learn a little respect for your elders, don’t bother
calling me again, Alissa. Goodbye.” She hung up with a click that hurt my ear. Sighing, I
turned my attention back to my driving.

Forgetting about my new thicker hair for a moment, I tried to run my fingers through

it and yelped when I caught a snag. The pain added to the frustration I felt that I hadn’t
learned anything helpful from the conversation. If I didn’t know her so well, I might have
thought her Pomeranian’s bite had affected Grandmother’s temper as it seemed to have

affected mine. The problem was, she was always like that, so there was no telling without
actually laying eyes on her if she had changed as I had.

For a moment, I debated going by her house to check on her physically but it was a

good forty-five minute drive from where I lived and I was almost home. I was dog-tired
from the long shift on B-9 and I didn’t feel like going all the way up to Westchase to
have her be nasty to me, which was doubtless what would happen.

Nope, at least for tonight, Grandmother was on her own.
I went home and listened to the messages on the machine, detailing people who

wanted to see the condo and share the rent. But just the thought of a new roommate made
me tired. Vowing to check it again after work and reminding myself I had less than a
week to come up with the money or move out, I went to bed.

Chapter 12

I had another itchy, restless night trying to get to sleep. The moon was noticeably

fuller and rounder than it had been the night before and it seemed to hang in my window
and shine in on me like my own personal spotlight. It made my eyes hurt and my skin
feel too tight somehow, to have that pale brilliant light bathing my body. Finally, I got up
to close the curtains and only then was I able to drift off to sleep. And then I had the
dream…

Once more I was in the small circular cell made of gray stone with its ceiling open to

the night. Moonlight poured down in a brilliant flood, illuminating the man with the
scarred face and the pale, beautiful eyes.

He was still chained to the wall with the cruel silver manacles and collar but this

time he seemed to sense my presence at once. He looked up, his seawater eyes filled with
a terrible mixture of hope and pain. He was still bare-chested and the pants he wore were
little more than rags. I saw the muscles rippling under his smooth brown skin as he
strained against the chains, trying to come near me.

“Devlesa avilan,” he whispered through dry, cracked lips. “God has brought you to

me,” he clarified, obviously seeing the confused look on my face. “Forgive me, I keep
forgetting you’re part Gadje.”

“I’m what?” I took a step toward him, feeling drawn by his pain and something

else… some force I couldn’t define.

“Other—Not Rom,” he said, as though that explained everything.
“Rom? I’ve never heard of it. Is it some kind of nationality?”
“You could say that, if we had a nation to call home. Rom or Romany are what we

call ourselves. You Gadje call us Gypsies.” He grimaced as though the word tasted bitter
in his mouth and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter though, only your blood matters.”

“My blood?” I felt a shiver of fear crawl down my spine. Was that why someone had

chained him with silver to this gray stone wall? Was he some kind of a vampire?

He must have seen the alarm on my face because he shook his head again. “Don’t

fear me, Alissa. Never fear me. Te lolirav I phuv mure ratesa… May I redden the earth
with my own blood before I would willingly spill yours.”

“But… who are you?” I took a step closer, halfway into the light. His eyes called me.

“And why do I feel like I know you,” I whispered, half to myself.

“I am Stephan Lovare and your blood calls to mine. That’s why you feel you know

me. You’re my Te’sorthene.”

“Your what?” I asked, wishing he would stick with English. His name sounded

vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“My heart mate. I’ve been searching for you for… gods, so many years.” He bowed

his head and closed his eyes briefly, a gesture of exhausted frustration. Despite the
strange things he was saying, his sincerity was obvious. I felt myself melting, just a little.

“You… you’ve been searching for me?” I asked, coming a little closer.
“For years, Alissa. We’re meant to be together. I marked you as my own years ago,

and now it’s time for me to claim you.”

“Whoa…” I backed up, getting out of the bright moonlight that somehow seemed to

burn my skin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—I just met you. This is moving
awfully fast, even for a dream.”

“It’s no dream.” He leaned to the far limits of the chains, looking frustrated. “At

least not for me—I see you standing in my cell as solid as the chains that bind me here.
Come touch me; that should convince you I’m real.”

Touch him? I balled my hands into fists at my sides and yet… I realized suddenly I

wanted to touch that smooth brown skin, to trace the bone-white scars I saw on his face
with my fingers. I wanted to feel the scratch of his black stubble against my palm when I
touched his cheek and the silk of that wavy black hair bound at the nape of his neck. I
longed to run my hands over the flat planes of his chest and feel the iron of his biceps, the
muscles shifting under the burnished bronze of his skin.

This sudden craving to touch him, to be near him, seemed like it ought to bother me.

After all, as I had told him, I had never seen him before in my life. But the urge was too
strong—it was almost magnetic. The more I thought of it, the more I wanted to do it. To
step closer and run my hands all over his body.

I stepped once more into the center of the circular room. Moonlight filled the small

space like water poured into a bowl. The moment I stepped into it, I felt that pure,
brilliant light on my unprotected skin like a brand. It burned me and called to me almost
as strongly as Stephan’s eyes. Suddenly I had a horrible sensation—my skin was
shrinking—growing too tight and small for my body. Beneath the surface of my pale
epidermis, I felt something else, something other moving, like an animal looking for a
way out of a tiny airless room.

“I… I’m sorry,” I gasped, half-falling back into the shadows. “The moonlight—it

burns and I feel… I feel so strange.” I rubbed my hands over my skin, now pebbled with
goose bumps.

He nodded as though my crazy statement was completely normal. “You’re getting

close to your first Change.”

The way he said it, I could almost hear the capital letters in the word. “Change?” I

looked at him, not understanding but he went right on as though we were talking about
some mutually understood and mundane subject, like the weather.

“You’ll begin to crave things… well, things you never had a taste for before. I’d stay

out of pet shops if I were you. I remember once before my first Change when I didn’t
really have control yet. There was this cage full of rabbits and I… Well, maybe I
shouldn’t go into that,” he said, obviously seeing the horrified look on my face.

“Look, I don’t understand anything you’re saying.” I shook my head and held up my

hands as though he was deaf and we could somehow communicate with body language.
The room was beginning to look misty around the edges and I had a sense the dream was
beginning to break up—that it was dissolving.

Stephan must have seen it too. “Don’t go,” he said urgently, leaning forward until

the silver chains clanked and creaked. “There’s so much I haven’t told you. You’re in
grave danger now—you’re vulnerable. Whatever you do, don’t go out at night! Just stay
in bed with the curtains drawn and the windows and doors locked. Do you understand?”

“But why? In danger from what?” I asked in frustration. Once again it was as if we

were speaking in two different languages. I thought I would have as much chance of
understanding him if he was talking in his guttural native dialect.

The room was fading even more now, becoming misty and indistinct although

Stephan remained clear and solid. I could see the moonlight skating along the length of
those cruel white scars on his brown cheeks and I wondered why I hadn’t thought to ask
him how he had gotten them. Come to that, I hadn’t even asked him why he was chained
in the first place.

“Don’t go,” he said again.
“I can’t help it.” Even as I said it, I looked down and realized I could see through

my hand. It was as though I was the dream, not him. I was fading away to nothing.

He yanked on the chains again, biceps bulging. “I’ll come to you soon,” he swore in

a low voice. “When the moon is just a little fuller my Change will come and nothing can
hold me then, not even these silver manacles she sets such store by.”

I wanted to ask him who ‘she’ was and why she had chained him to the wall, but I

was almost translucent now, and I seemed to have lost my power of speech.

“I will come to you,” he said again, his deep voice hoarse with emotion. “Be ready

for me, Te’sorthene,” And then he was gone.

Chapter 13

Friday, March 17th: Two days before the full moon.

I woke up with a terrible headache, the kind you get after staying up all night instead

of getting your eight hours like you’re supposed to. For a moment, the echoes of the
dream clanged in my skull like a bell and then the shrieking of my alarm drove them
away. I slapped at it, trying to shut it up, and forced myself to sit up in bed.

“‘Nother day, ‘nother dollar,” I told myself, swinging my legs out of bed. I felt

grouchy and miserable, dreading the day ahead of me. It was awful, really, because I’d
never dreaded going to work before, even when Judith started switching my shifts. But
working on the Psychiatric ward took a special kind of person and I guess I just wasn’t it.
If I’d wanted to deal with full blown psychosis on a daily basis I either would have
trained as a mental health tech instead of a nurse, or not trained as anything at all and just
stayed home with my grandmother.

Speaking of Grandmother, I wondered if she was feeling as lousy as I was today. My

finger still throbbed and even though the wound on it was almost healed, I wondered if I
could be getting some kind of an infection. Maybe something like osteomyelitis that
affected the bone? It was such a deep, burning ache and the weird thing was I could still
feel the old scar behind my knee throbbing in time with it.

I hobbled to the bathroom, intent on getting a shower to wake me up and clear away

the after-images of the weird dream, but what I saw in the mirror stopped me cold.

“Oh, no… Oh, no,” I whispered, putting a hand to my mouth. The girl in the mirror

did the same so I knew she must be me—but it was me like I had never seen before.

My hair, the same hair that used to be fine and carroty and limp, was a huge, bushy

mass of dark auburn around my head. The color was a full three shades darker than it had
been the day before and as for the texture… it was all over the place.

“Like I stuck my finger in a light socket,” I said, half aloud to myself. I leaned closer

to look at my eyes that had turned a vivid indigo sometime during the night. What the
hell was doing this to me and how far would it go?

Feeling panicked, I grabbed my brush from the ledge above the sink and attacked the

fluffy auburn mass. I yanked hard, dragging the unforgiving bristles through the tangled
mess, and wincing as I felt the pull on my scalp. Not surprisingly, I hit a snarl almost
immediately. Tugging fiercely, I fought to get the brush, which had previously glided
easily through my hair, past the tangle. Damn it… come on! I had my tongue caught
between my teeth and a look of angry concentration on my face when, with a brittle
snapping sound, the abused brush broke in my hand.

I held up the pink plastic handle, the disembodied head still tangled in my hair, and

then threw it down to clatter on the floor. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I
couldn’t go to work looking like this—could I? Well, I thought, I’d better, unless I want
to lose my job.

With the help of a shower and lots of conditioner, I managed to get it under some

kind of control. I used one of the big banana hair clips Viv had left behind and multiple

bobby pins to try to get it to behave, but I still caught stray tendrils of it sneaking loose to
wave just out of my line of vision. Talk about your hair having a mind of its own!

On the way out the door, I stopped in the kitchen thinking I would just snag a bagel

out of the fridge for breakfast. Maybe a day in B-9 would be more bearable on a full
stomach, and besides, I was suddenly ravenous.

Nothing inside the chilled compartment where I kept my breakfast breads looked

good to me. I’ve always been a carb craver—no Atkins for me, thank you, but this time
even the cinnamon Danish I was saving for a calorie splurge didn’t seem very tempting.

There was a package of raw bacon stuffed to one side of the compartment and I took

it out, thinking it would be better to just chuck it. I had bought it a week or so ago with
the vague idea of having bacon and eggs for breakfast and then just never got around to
it. It was one of those impulse buys that sound good in the grocery aisle, but die once you
get it home.

I started to pitch it in the trash and then stopped and looked at the yellow and brown

package speculatively. Really, I should open it and sniff to see if it was still fresh. After
all, I wasn’t exactly in the financial position to be throwing away perfectly good food just
because I didn’t have a craving for it.

If I didn’t find a roommate soon, I might be cooking this bacon over a flaming barrel

from the front steps of my palatial new cardboard domicile. Okay, I knew I was
exaggerating but not by much. And if my two choices were a used refrigerator carton in
an alley somewhere or moving back in with my grandmother, I knew which one I
preferred.

I ripped open the package of raw bacon and that’s when the smell hit me. Heaven.

Pure, greasy, salty, raw heaven. You’ll begin to crave things… things you never had a
taste for before, whispered a half-forgotten voice in my head. But it was quickly drowned
out by the sound of my chewing. Thick strips of the raw, salty meat were sliding down
my throat, oily and perfect. My stomach growled like a live thing from under my scrub
top and my face was smeared with grease but I didn’t care. It was so good, so right, so
utterly, unspeakably delicious…

Wait a minute! The voice of reason which had been screaming from the back of my

head for the past half minute while I chowed down like a wild dog, finally asserted itself.
What the hell’s gotten into you? You’re eating raw bacon. I dropped the package with a
splat to the tile floor, suddenly sickened with myself. What was wrong with me? I was a
nurse—I knew exactly how dangerous undercooked meat could be. Leaving the bacon on
the floor and the refrigerator door hanging open, I rushed to the bathroom and hung over
the toilet, waiting to throw up.

My stomach clenched like a slick fist but nothing came out. Instead, I felt hungry all

over again. To my horror, I realized I was actually thinking of that half package of bacon
still lying there on the kitchen floor, just waiting for me to come along and eat it. The
taste of it was still in my mouth, thick with fat and flavor. I realized I was salivating at
the thought, my stomach churning angrily, demanding more. No!

I grabbed a hand towel and scrubbed at my grease-stained face. Half of my hair had

come lose and I looked like something out of Clan of the Cave Bear—the really bad
movie version starring Daryl Hannah. Raw meat and crazy hair—just call me Ayla.

I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to smooth it back into some semblance of

order. What the hell was happening to me and why couldn’t it happen on the weekend? In

books, the main character always seems to have all the leisure time she needs to deal with
her transformation into a vampire or ghost or what have you, but not me. I had to haul ass
to work right now, with my stomach half full of raw bacon and my hair and eyes going
haywire all at once, or risk losing my job.

Half moaning, I staggered through the kitchen and forced myself to pick up the

bacon and heave it in the trash before my insane appetite could get the better of me. I
bumped the refrigerator door closed with my hip, grabbed my purse and ran out the door.

Chapter 14

Judith was waiting for me by the time clock, lurking around looking like a hungry

hawk about to swoop down on an unsuspecting rabbit. Little did she know I was no
longer the same scared little bunny I had been two days before.

“Yes?” I said pointedly, clocking in exactly on time. “Were you looking for me,

Judith?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Her eyes narrowed as she took in my

new appearance. It must seem even more radical to her since she hadn’t run into me the
day before when the changes started.

“Yes?” I said again, silently daring her to comment on my hair or eyes.
“Miss O’Malley, I need to see you in my office,” she said, falling back on her old

formula.

“All right, but as you can see, I’m right on time.” I gestured to the time clock as

proof. “Not a minute too late, not a minute too early,” I added.

“Your chronic tardiness is not the issue today,” she rapped out, raising one skinny

eyebrow in what was no doubt meant to be an intimidating gesture. But strangely, it no
longer intimidated me.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. What is the issue, Judith?”
“We’ll discuss it in my office,” she ground out, her nostrils flaring. Then she turned

on her heel and marched down the hallway, obviously expecting me to follow her. I did,
but my thinking was far removed from what it had been just two days earlier when I was
taking the same walk of shame.

Basically, I was thinking that this kind of confrontation was getting really old. I was

so concerned with keeping my job—why? It wasn’t like my paycheck was enough to pay
the rent—it wasn’t. And it wasn’t like nursing jobs were hard to find. Especially in a state
like Florida with all its senior citizens, as a nurse who specialized in Skilled Nursing, I
could walk out of here and have a new job in my pocket by lunchtime. It was just that
TGH had been my first job right out of nursing school. It had always felt so safe to me—
almost like a second home.

But as I walked into Judith’s closet-sized office and plunked myself down on the

hard plastic chair for the second time in three days, I had to acknowledge that TGH didn’t
seem so much like home anymore. In fact, it was beginning to seem like a nightmare.

“Yes?” I said to Judith pointedly, just wanting to get this over with.
She folded her hands on the desk and leaned across it, looking more like a vulture

than ever. “Betty Tatum has informed me that you’re causing trouble in her department,”
she said, arching a skinny eyebrow at me again.

“Is that right?” I asked pleasantly. “And what kind of trouble did she mention

exactly?”

Judith scowled, obviously displeased by my refusal to cower and apologize. “I have

it right here,” she said, pulling a clipboard from behind her desk. “Apparently you made
several very disruptive and unnecessary pages while she was trying to hold an in-service.
When she confronted you about it, you were belligerent and argumentative.”

She sat back and looked at me triumphantly, as though daring me to contradict her.

“Did she also tell you that I was left alone in the department, Judith? A department,

might I add, that I was never trained for in the first place?” I asked, leaning forward to
look her in the eyes. “I believe both of those things are against hospital policy, isn’t that
so?”

“Well… But…” Judith was obviously taken aback. I had never spoken back to her

before and here I was, standing up to her, giving back as good as it was getting. It felt
great! Too great to stop, in fact.

“But then, what would you know about hospital policy, Judith…” I continued,

beginning to enjoy myself immensely. “I believe it’s also against hospital policy to
medicate your patients without checking their charts to see if what you’re giving them
might kill them. What exactly do they call that when you end up in court for it?” I cupped
my chin and tapped my finger against my temple, pretending to think about it. “Oh yes—
I think they call that … criminal negligence.”

“Why you… You wouldn’t…You can’t prove anything,” she burst out. Her long

horsey face was red and there were two little white dents on either side of her large,
flaring nostrils.

“No, I’m sure you covered your tracks.” I nodded at her coolly. “But as I think I

pointed out, that’s not the only regulation that you’ve broken lately. I never should have
been reassigned to the Psych ward without the proper training. And I shouldn’t have been
left alone to deal with the whole ward myself. Now whose idea was that, I wonder? I bet
Betty Tatum didn’t think it up all on her own, did she?”

“You … you are on probation,” she said, her voice moving higher and higher as she

spoke. “And I’ll thank you to remember that one word from me will end your career here
at TGH for good.”

“Well, Judith, why don’t you go ahead and say that word? Go on—fire me.” I was

actually taunting her now—saying things I had barely been able to think two days before.
There was a fierce, reckless joy in doing what I’d only dreamed of. I knew I probably
wasn’t acting in my own best interest at this point, but I just couldn’t seem to stop.

“Better yet…” I stood up and stared down at her. “I quit. Consider this my final

notice, Judith.”

“Why … you can’t … you have to give two weeks notice,” she spluttered.
I laughed in her face. “Two weeks notice? Two more weeks of working on B-9 with

nurse Cratchet looking over my shoulder and being shunned by my peers because of the
lies I know you’re telling? I don’t think so. I’m leaving now and I won’t be back.” I
turned to go, then thought of better of it. “Oh wait, I will come back—for my exit
interview. And believe me, Judith, I’m going to give Human Resources an earful.” I
grinned at her. “Could be we’ll both be looking for a new job once I’ve had my say.”

“Why you … you … How dare… “ Her face was so red she looked on the verge of

having a stroke. She stood and placed trembling hands on her desk blotter. “I’ll have
security escort you out!” she almost shouted.

“Don’t bother,” I said coolly. “I can find my own way out, Judith. Have a nice life.”
As I left her office, I heard her calling the security department anyway but I didn’t

bother to speed up my pace any. Just at that minute I felt totally invincible—like I could
take on anybody. Somewhere in the back of my brain, a little voice was insisting I
probably shouldn’t have provoked Judith quite so much. I was now jobless and almost

homeless, but I felt so great I just didn’t care. The hell with TGH and the hell with
Judith—I was so out of there.

“Miss … uh, nurse O’Malley?” A heavy security guard with a beer gut spilling over

his too-tight uniform pants jogged up to me, puffing and blowing. The nametag pinned
crookedly to the front of his rumpled shirt said, Robert.

“Yes?” I stopped in my tracks and turned to give him a cool once-over.
“I, uh… I was informed that you needed an escort from the building,” he said,

obviously falling back on protocol.

“Well you were misinformed. I can exit the hospital just fine on my own. Now, if

you’ll excuse me.” I started toward the double sliding glass door again and he grabbed
my arm.

“I’m sorry, Miss O’Malley, but I was given specific instructions to escort you out,”

he said, sounding half stern, half apologetic.

“You mean you were given specific instructions by my bitch of an ex-supervisor to

make a spectacle of me while I was trying to leave quietly,” I said, looking him
deliberately in the eye.

He shook his head. “No, I was told to escort you out,” he repeated stubbornly. His

grip on my arm tightened, hurting me. I could see other hospital personnel staring at us
from the corners of their eyes as they walked past, up and down the echoing hall. Judith
had wanted to cause a scene and if I didn’t handle this carefully, she would be successful.
I wanted to leave TGH on my terms—not hers.

Something rose up in me then, a rage like I had never known—so deep and

encompassing it seemed to fill every part of my body. I felt it tingling in my fingertips
and aching in my toes. I felt like every strand of my strange new hair was standing on
end, bristling with it.

“Look, Robert,” I said, stepping closer to him. “If you don’t let me go right now, I

can’t be responsible for the consequences.” I stood on tiptoes and pressed my nose
against his, getting in his face, invading his space the way he was invading mine and
never losing eye-contact. The anger rising in me was filling me, crackling along my spine
with the promise of violence, like lightening waiting to strike. There were no words in
that rage—only the murderous fury of a beast that is threatened or brought to bay—a
wolf or a bear cornered in its den. I heard a low growl building in my throat and couldn’t
seem to stop it.

“But…” The muddy brown eyes of the security guard widened and I could smell

onions on his breath. Obviously he wasn’t used to being threatened by women half his
size.

“Let… Me… Go,” I said slowly and deliberately, as though speaking to a mentally

deficient child.

“I can’t… I mean, I’m not supposed t…”
That was as far as I let him get. I twisted in his grip, prying my forearm from his fat

hand and before he could protest, I had reversed the situation. I wrapped my fingers
around his thick wrist and squeezed hard.

Before that moment, it would never have occurred to me I had enough strength to

hurt a full grown man in this way. I mean, I’m an average sized woman and I go to the
gym regularly but I’m no Arnold Schwarzenegger. But as I squeezed, I could feel the
small bones of the security guard’s wrist grinding beneath my fingers and his doughy

face went first red and then white. Small, hurt noises began to come from him and still I
squeezed. He tried to pull away, but I held him easily although he probably out-weighed
me by seventy pounds or more.

I could smell more than onions now. There was a sharp acidic tang in the air that

must be the guard’s sweat—I could see it dotting his brow and his upper lip. Fear—that’s
the smell of fear. I didn’t know how I knew it but I did. He was afraid of me and it gave
me a fierce kind of joy to know it. I no longer felt like a threatened animal—now I felt
like one on the hunt, prowling for prey. Despite his size, the security guard was weak and
something in me recognized that and wanted to exploit it. A tiny still-articulate corner of
my brain was screaming that I was going to break his wrist, that I was going to grind his
carpals to dust, but the animalistic anger seemed to have taken over and I just couldn’t
stop…

“Alissa? Excuse me, is there a problem here?”
Dr. Addison’s voice broke the strange spell that seemed to have taken over my brain.

I turned to him, suddenly realizing how strange this must look. I was literally nose to
nose with the security guard who looked like he might faint at any minute. Why he hadn’t
screamed was beyond me—either he was a real tough guy or his vocal chords had locked
up with the fear I still smelled all over him. I was betting on the latter. Luckily, except for
the two of us and Doctor Addison, the hallway in front of the double doors was now
deserted.

“Are you all right?” Addison’s blue eyes were wide with concern and his thick blond

hair was charmingly rumpled.

“Fine. Just fine.” I dropped the security guard’s wrist and he fell to his knees,

cradling it to his flabby chest and making small inarticulate pain noises.

“Oh, hey…” Addison, reached for him, obviously wanting to see if the man was all

right but the guard scuttled crab-like across the floor, his muddy brown eyes still fixed on
my face. He was shaking his head, a look of horror on his face.

“I think he wants to be left alone,” I said. Using both hands to smooth my hair, I took

a deep breath and willed the rage that had risen in me with no warning, to dispel.
Whatever it was had frightened me but I was exhilarated too. I still had that invincible
feeling that I could take all comers and end up on top. Later, when the adrenaline had
stopped coursing through my body I thought I would probably be deeply disturbed at
what had just happened—at what I had almost done. If Dr. Addison hadn’t showed up at
just the right time… but I didn’t want to think about that right now.

Addison turned back to me after giving the security guard another doubtful glance

and I saw his eyes widen. “Your uh…” He gestured at me uncertainly. “You changed
your hair again, he said finally.

“Yes.” I started moving toward the door again. I wanted to get off hospital property

before I had any other confrontations.

“Oh. Well, uh, is your shift over?” he asked, following me to the doors like a lost

puppy.

I laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You could say that.” I hit the door and was

out into the warm Florida sunshine. It felt good but it was too damn bright, I shaded my
eyes with my hand. To my intense annoyance, Mike Addison was still following me as I
headed for the staff parking lot.

“I was looking for you,” he said, half-running along beside me to keep up with the

fast pace I was setting. “I thought I’d ask you if you wanted to get a drink somewhere
tonight since it’s Friday.”

I stopped short and looked at him. “Are you asking me out?” I asked, incredulous. At

one time this would have been a dream come true but now… now it was just an
annoyance. Despite our earlier flirtation, I suddenly realized that I had no physical
attraction to this man with his surfer-boy good looks. He seemed stupid somehow—soft
and weak. As vulnerable as the security guard had been. What had I ever seen in him?

“I, uh… It’s just drinks,” he fumbled, after a minute. Doubtless he was used to

women falling all over themselves when he asked them out. I had no idea how I might
have acted if he had asked me out before all this weirdness started in my life, but I was in
no mood to stroke his ego now.

“You’ve got lousy timing,” I told him flatly. “I just quit my job.”
“You, uh… That’s too bad,” he said, obviously taken aback. “What happened? B-9

got to be too much for you?”

“You could say that,” I said again. I wasn’t about to get into the whole situation with

Judith—the hospital was enough of a rumor factory without me adding to it. No doubt
he’d hear all about it the minute he stepped back onto the Skilled Nursing floor.

“Well, it’s a rough ward,” he said sympathetically.
“Yup.” I started walking again, hoping he would take the hint. What had happened

with the security guard was beginning to really sink in and I was feeling upset and
disturbed by my own strange behavior. Where had the strange, all consuming rage come
from and why had I given in to it? How had I had the strength to hurt a man who stood
almost a foot taller than me and outweighed me by a good seventy pounds? Did it have to
do with my other physical symptoms? Was I having some kind of a psychotic break?

“…drinks?”
“What?” I looked back to see that Mike Addison was still staring at me with hopeful

eyes. I had been so caught up in my own thoughts, I hadn’t heard what he was saying.

“I said, I’m sorry about you quitting your job but why not come out with me for

drinks anyway?” He grinned at me, giving me that hundred-watt smile that had melted
nurses and techs from Pediatrics to Radiology and everywhere in between. It left me cold.
“What do you say? It’ll be a good way to get your mind off things. And if you don’t
come, how will I ever see you again, pretty lady?’

It was a cheesy line and I was feeling anything but pretty. It was on the tip of my

tongue to tell him “no” in no uncertain terms, when something occurred to me. Mike
Addison was a neurologist—maybe if I went out with him I could pick his brain in a
round about way and find out if he’d ever heard of anything similar to what was
happening to me. I mean, I wouldn’t come right out and tell him my symptoms, but I
could probably get something out of him if I worded my questions right. Anyway, it was
worth a try. If I kept on the way I was going, I would end up in B-9 myself in a few more
days.

“Just drinks?” I asked him, digging in my purse for my keys.
“Sure. Just drinks and conversation. I want to get to know you better, Alissa.” He

leaned forward, invading my space. “There’s something different about you.”

If only he knew how different, he might not be so eager to get me alone, but I let it

slide. “All right,” I said, and gave him my address and phone number written on the back
of a Target receipt I found at the bottom of my purse.

“Great. I don’t get off until after eight—would nine be all right to pick you up?” He

looked at me hopefully.

Whatever you do, don’t go out at night! I could almost hear the voice echoing inside

my head, clanging like a warning bell. I shook my head—where had that come from—my
crazy dream? And why did it suddenly feel dangerous to accept his invitation?

“Nine?” he asked again, obviously seeing my sudden hesitation.
“Sure, fine. Nine is great,” I said firmly, pushing the uneasy feelings out of my mind.

They were probably being caused by the same disease process that was running amok on
my hair, eyes, appetite and emotions. Maybe extreme paranoia was just another lovely
symptom to add to an ever-lengthening list of weirdness.

“You know, if you don’t mind me saying, I like your new hair. And whatever that

perfume you’re wearing is, it’s absolutely mouthwatering.” He was still hanging around,
unwilling to let me go even though I had already agreed to the date. What was his
problem? I felt a surge of annoyance and considered telling him point blank that the new
“perfume” was Eau de raw bacon, but I managed to suppress the impulse.

“I have to go,” I said pointedly, unlocking the car.
“Oh, right.” He stepped back, his shoes grating on the concrete. “Until tonight.”
“Until tonight,” I echoed, trying to smile at him. I drove off, shading my eyes against

the too-bright sunlight, my nerves sizzling like wildfire. Somehow, I knew it was going
to be a night to remember.

Chapter 15

“Ouch! Son of a…” The ringing of the telephone interrupted my muttered curse and

I put down the new large bristled brush I had bought to try to tame my hair and ran to get
it. I was half expecting it to be Mike Addison, saying that something had come up and he
would have to cancel the date. To be honest, not only was I thinking it, I was hoping it.
The darker the sky grew and the nearer it came to the time for him to pick me up, the
more uneasy I felt. I kept thinking of the stupid, half-remembered dream for some reason
and the more I tried to push it to the back of my mind, the clearer it became.

There was a man chained to the wall. He told me to be careful, that I shouldn’t go

out at night, that I was close to some kind of a change… I shook my head and reached for
the phone. Thinking you had prophetic dreams was verging on out-and-out crazy. Next
thing I knew I would be hearing voices, wearing aluminum foil hats to keep out brain
scan rays from outer space, and thinking the numbers on license plates held special
meaning only for me. I had seen enough psychotic and schizophrenic patients to know
how these delusions ended up—badly. So I tried to compose myself and answer the
phone in a normal tone of voice.

“Lissa!” Viv chirped in my ear, dashing my secret hope the date for that night was

off.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to hear from you again until I picked you up at the airport,” I

said, settling onto my bed.

“That’s what I’m calling about. You’re going to hate me but I had to reschedule the

ticket. I won’t be getting in until three in the afternoon instead of eight in the morning.”

“More time for me to sleep in then,” I said, looking at my watch. It was eight thirty

already and I wasn’t even halfway ready for my dreaded date.

“So you don’t hate me?”
“’Course not, silly. It’ll give me time to run some errands and clean up the place.” I

was still striving to keep my voice normal but there was no fooling my best friend.

“Okay, give,” she said. “What’s wrong? Are your eyes okay? Or is it your bitch of a

supervisor? Or has Bernie been hassling you about the rent or what?” Bernie was the
pushy landlord I had been avoiding ever since I stopped being able to make the rent.
Frankly, I was surprised I hadn’t run into him yet although a confrontation was going to
be unavoidable soon.

“No to Bernie, yes to the supervisor and the eyes,” I said, carefully. There was no

way I had time to have a spill-your-guts-tell-all discussion and still be able to get ready
on time. “Look, Viv, I really have to go. I have a date tonight and I’m not even halfway
ready,” I said, looking nervously at my watch again.

“What? A date? My best friend the shrinking violet actually has a date? Lissa, that’s

big news—why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“Because it’s not that big a deal,” I said crossly. “And besides, it’s not like I’ve never

had a date before.”

“Not one I didn’t set you up on or push you to take when the guy asked,” she said,

sounding excited. Sadly, it was true but I didn’t have time to talk about my social life or
lack thereof with Viv right then.

“Look, Viv, I really have to go. I swear I’ll give you all the details later,” I promised.
“At least tell me who the guy is,” she begged. “Throw me a bone here, Lissa.”
“Okay, it’s Mike Addison—satisfied now?” By the excited shrieking from the other

end of the phone I could tell she was. That’s one good thing about Viv—you never have
to wonder how she’s feeling.

“Oh my God!” She sounded breathless which wasn’t surprising after her response to

my news. I only wondered that she had any breath left to talk at all. “Lissa,” she said,
“I’m just so happy for you.”

“Thanks, hon. I’m happy for me too,” I said, trying to mean it. “But listen, I really

have to go get ready now. I can’t do a thing with my hair.” For once, it was literally the
truth.

“All right, I’ll let you go for now, but I know there’s something else going on. I can

always tell by the way you get so quiet,” she said. “You’re going to have to spill it all
sooner or later, you know that.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. There was so much to tell that I didn’t know where to

begin. And some things I was reluctant to tell—just to name a few, my new temper and
my weird appetite.

For lunch, I had gone to the deli at my local Publix and ordered a pound of rare roast

beef. Embarrassed of my appetite, I had made up a story about being on The South Beach
Diet when I spoke to the deli counterman. When I got it home, I ate it all—the whole
pound—with no bread or condiments of any kind. The strange thing was I had never been
able to stand rare roast beef or even prime rib before because the bloody taste always
made me gag. But after finishing the meat, I had licked the pinkish juices off the plate,
savoring every last drop as though it was chocolate icing.

And my new craving for rare meat didn’t even begin to compare with what had

happened when the security guard tried to escort me out. Or the fact that I kept obsessing
about the weird dream I’d been having. No, it all sounded too strange. I was afraid Viv
would think I had gone loony-toons in her absence and even though I had always told her
everything else (she was, for instance, the only person in the whole world that knew I was
still a virgin) I just didn’t feel up to telling her this. At least, not yet. So I just sighed and
promised to tell her everything when I picked her up from the airport.

“Okay, I’ll let you keep your secrets for now,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I have

some news I want to save for a face-to-face session too.”

“I don’t suppose it’s that you’re moving back to Tampa,” I said hopefully.
“I wish it was.” She sounded wistful. “But no—it’s happy news but it’s totally

different. I’ll give you a hint—we may have to make those banana daiquiris virgin.”

“Viv!” It was my turn to squeal, forgetting my own problems for a moment. The fact

she didn’t want to drink alcohol could only mean one thing. “I didn’t even know you and
Larry were trying.”

“Shh!” Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “He didn’t know either. Look,

I’m not for sure but I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow—I want you to come with me
when I get a test. And you have to spill what’s going on with you too. Okay?”

“Okay, it’s a deal. Can’t wait to see you,” I said, not having to fake the sincerity in

my voice. No matter how bad life was, there was nothing Viv and I couldn’t work out
between us—she was that good a friend. “Now let me go so I can get myself together,” I
scolded. “Or there won’t be anything to tell.”

“I know you’re going to have a fabulous time.” Viv’s voice brimmed with

excitement for me—excitement I wished I could feel for myself instead of this damn
foreboding that wouldn’t leave me alone. “Go out and paint the town red, Lissa.”

It was a common expression but for some reason I felt a shiver run up my spine at

her words. I couldn’t help remembering the bloody pinkish juice that leaked from my rare
roast beef as I said, “You know it, hon. Consider it painted.”

Chapter 16

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Mike Addison asked me for the fourth time.
“Fine, just fine,” I murmured, reaching down for about the hundredth time to

straighten the skirt of my little black dress. We were seated in Zsa Zsa’s, the latest in
midnight dining in Tampa’s newly renovated Channelside district. It was an outdoor café
that only opened at night and the waterfront view was spectacular. Or it would have been,
anyway, if I could have paid attention to it.

I blamed my lack of attention on how bright the moon was, on the way it seemed to

shine down onto the water and throw back blinding ripples that made me glare-blind.
Gypsy moon, I thought, irrelevantly. Just like in my weird dream, the light almost seemed
to burn me and my skin felt tight, itchy and dry. I kept thinking I should have worn some
kind of protective lotion, but whoever heard of moonscreen?

In addition to the irritating moonlight, my finger and the old scar were throbbing and

now I had a new problem to add to the list. My earlobes were itching although I couldn’t
imagine why. The earrings were antique silver ones—the only jewelry I had inherited
from my mother—and they had never bothered me before. I had considered taking them
off but I didn’t want to risk losing them.

“I’m just a little … restless,” I told Mike Addison, shifting in my chair again so that

the moonlit water was to my back. It helped to get the moon glare out of my eyes, a little
bit, anyway.

“I’m feeling kind of restless myself. I’ve been thinking about seeing you all day.” He

leaned forward and covered my hand, the one that wasn’t fiddling with my skirt, with his
own. His skin felt clammy and damp and too cool somehow against my own—almost as
though his body temperature was several degrees lower than my own. And yet, I didn’t
feel like I was running a temperature in any way.

“You know,” I said, withdrawing my hand to tug at my painful earlobes, which were,

thank goodness, hidden beneath my newly bushy hair. “I was reading recently in one of
the medical journals about this fascinating case and I was wondering if you’d heard of it.”

“Oh?” He looked less than interested and a little nonplussed that I had removed my

hand. “Which journal?”

“The journal isn’t important—it’s the case. I thought since you’re a leader in the

field you might be able to shed some light on it—it was really fascinating.”

“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “I don’t usually like

to talk work on a date, but all right.”

“Wonderful.” I smiled at him, trying to keep up the appearance that I was happy to

be there. “Well, it was a young woman actually, and she came down with a whole
collection of symptoms almost overnight. It was so strange.”

“Such as?” He looked over my shoulder and shook his head at the waiter who had

come to offer us more wine. He had already had three glasses to my one weak spritzer—
that I had barely touched. If he was hoping to get me drunk, he was surely disappointed
but at least I was a cheap date. I noticed that most of the other tables had cleared. Except
for a young couple that looked to be college kids in the corner, we were alone in the
outdoor café.

“Well…” I chewed my bottom lip, trying to think how to put it. “To start with, her

vision suddenly corrected itself. She woke up and didn’t need her… her contact lenses
anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh? And what else?”
“Well, she noticed pigmentation changes in … in her eyes and hair. And she

suddenly started craving raw meat of all kinds,” I rushed on, hoping like hell he wouldn’t
put two and two together. “Then she, ah, she started having mood swings—sudden rages,
uncontrollable anger. Oh, and increased physical strength.” I leaned forward and tried to
look deep into his eyes. Well, what do you think?”

He shrugged, obviously disinterested. “I don’t know, what did the journal say?”
“That’s just it—it didn’t. Or rather, I didn’t get a chance to finish the article and then

after my shift was over, it was gone.”

“Alissa,” he said, taking my hand and entwining my fingers with his own damp ones

to my intense discomfort. “This isn’t about some article in a journal, is it?”

“Of course it is.” I tried to laugh as I worked to untangle our fingers. For some

reason I found his touch absolutely revolting. “What else would it be about?”

“Maybe about losing your job today?” he said, not letting me take back my hand.
“Losing my job? I told you—I quit.”
“Okay, however you want to put it.” He shrugged and I could tell he didn’t believe

me. “But it’s all right to be upset about it. Perfectly normal, in fact.” He leaned further
forward and under the red wine on his breath I could smell something garlicky—as
though he’d eaten an everything bagel for lunch and hadn’t brushed his teeth.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be just fine.” I worked harder on withdrawing my

hand. I was starting to feel panicky—it was that same trapped animal feeling that had
come over me so strongly when the fat security guard had my forearm in his grip in the
hallway at TGH.

“You know, a skilled nurse like you should be able to find something better than B-

9.” He leaned even closer and I had to fight the urge not to pull back sharply.

“I thought so too,” I said pointedly, finally managing to free my hand from his grip.

“Which is why I quit.” I was beginning to be very glad that I had driven my own car,
following him to Channelside rather than riding with him in his sleek black Lexus. At the
last moment I had felt too uncomfortable at the idea of being enclosed in a small space
with him and had made an excuse about possibly having to leave early if I got a phone
call from a friend who was having a hard time. But if he kept on this way, I wouldn’t
even bother to fake a phone call—I’d just leave.

“You were fired, you quit—it doesn’t really matter.” He shrugged, unconcerned and

his voice grew heavy with meaning. “As I said, you should be able to get another job,
with a little help. I’d be more than happy to provide a personal reference, if you like.”

“A … a personal reference?” Slowly what he was saying was beginning to sink in.

He meant he’d be happy to provide a reference for me for a price. He reached up and
stroked one clammy finger down my cheek and I knew exactly what the price was going
to be.

“No, thank you,” I said, pulling away from his disgusting touch. “I don’t think I’ll be

needing a reference. I’ll let my skills speak for themselves and I have my CCPA, you
know.”

His handsome face grew suddenly petulant. “I don’t care if you have your MD, from

what I heard on the floor, you’re going to need help getting your foot in the door
anywhere if you want to work again. Nobody in this town is going to hire you unless
someone with serious clout puts in a word for you.” He smiled lazily. “Someone like
me.”

“What?” I sat up straighter, galvanized by his words. “What exactly did you hear?’
“Several things—none of them good. Your supervisor is saying that there have been

narcotics shortages on your shifts and that on at least one occasion the keys to the
narcotics cabinet disappeared and were found in your locker.”

“What?” I rubbed my suddenly sweating palms down the sides of my dress. “But …

none of that is true. I’ve never … I wouldn’t…”

“She’s saying that’s the reason for your sudden mood swings and the change in your

appearance,” he continued ruthlessly. “She also said when she confronted you about it,
you got violent and threatened her with physical force, which is why she called security
to escort you out of the building today.”

“I don’t believe this,” I burst out, clenching my hands into fists under the table. “I

always knew she was a bitch but that’s just a bald-faced lie!” I could feel the rage
crackling down my spine and every separate hair on my head felt like it was standing
straight out with the force of my anger. If Judith would have been within grabbing
distance, I’m sure I couldn’t have been held accountable for my actions.

Mike Addison actually looked amused. “Well, it’s your word against hers,

sweetheart, and I’m afraid there aren’t many people lining up to back your story.
Although I’m sure if we went together and I offered my support…” He leaned closer,
almost leering at me now. “Of course, we’d have to be together first.”

“You … you…” I felt my anger turn from Judith to Addison in a flash, rage bubbling

up inside me like a pot-full of molten lava. How dare he try and take advantage of the
situation I was in? He was trying to trade sexual favors for a professional endorsement—
to use my predicament as leverage to get me to sleep with him. What a slime!

“Well, what do you say?” Apparently taking my enraged silence for assent, he leaned

forward and cupped the back of my neck, obviously intent on bringing me in for a kiss.

I leaned over the rickety little table we were sitting at and planted my hands flat on

his chest. He had time to grin approvingly, obviously thinking I was playing along with
his sick little scenario, and then I pushed with all my strength.

His chair tilted over with the force of the push and he landed on his back, legs

sticking comically into the air like an overturned beetle. If I hadn’t been so angry I
would’ve laughed at him. The table flipped over as well and my tall spindly glass flew
up, spilling wine spritzer all over the skirt of my black dress, before shattering on the
colored paving tiles.

“What the hell?” he snarled, scrambling to get to his feet. “I can’t believe—Ow!”

The last exclamation was directed at his hand, where a long thin shard of my wine glass
was deeply imbedded in his palm. “You bitch—look what you did to me.” He waved the
hurt hand in the air and I could suddenly smell the rich, coppery scent of blood wafting
across the space between us like a heady perfume.

“I didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve,” I said, trying to control my impulse to get

closer to that delicious fragrance. I could feel the moonlight all over my body like a huge,
warm smothering hand and my skin itched fiercely. I wanted to cross the distance

between us, pluck the shard of glass out of the meat of his palm, and lick the crimson
flow that was running down his wrist and wetting the cuff of his expensive dress shirt.
God help me, I wanted to do it so badly.

“I was trying to comfort you—offering to back up your story,” he whined. The

surfer-boy good looks were gone now, replaced by the face of a petulant, bad tempered
child used to getting his own way. I couldn’t imagine how I had ever found him even
remotely attractive.

“You were offering to back me up if I slept with you,” I accused, my hands clenched

into fists at my sides. I concentrated on looking at his face and not the still-dripping hand,
slick with reddish-black liquid in the moonlight. From the corner of my eye, I could see
the concerned waiter hurrying over with a bottle of wine clutched to his chest and the
college couple was staring at us with unabashed interest. Hey dude—free show.

“You were trying to take advantage my situation—to take advantage of me,” I said

pointedly, when he didn’t answer my accusation.

“Oh please,” he said in a disgusted tone. “As if you didn’t want it too. The way you

… you…” His voice trailed off and his face suddenly went paper-pale. Riding the air
currents between us was another scent, overlying the coppery sweetish smell of his blood.
It was the bitter, acidic tang of fear I had smelled on the security guard when I squeezed
his wrist in my hand in the hospital hallway. I saw that Addison was looking past me,
staring at something over my shoulder.

“What—?” I began, and then I became aware of a low growling—a sound so deep it

was a vibration I felt in my bones—coming from behind me. Addison remained where he
was, stiff with fear, his mouth a sagging O of disbelief. I glanced at the waiter whose eyes
had gone wide and at the college kids who were huddled together behind their tiny table,
as though it might offer any protection from whatever was making the bone-shivering
noise. The girl was biting her lip, her eyes bright with tears and I saw the boy, pale
beneath his spring break tan, mouth the words, ‘holy shit'.

Part of me knew it was dangerous to move and wanted to cower in fear, hoping

whatever it was would pass me by—the way a rabbit shrinks low in the bushes when the
shadow of the hawk passes over it. But a larger part, a new part that was growing by the
hour, wanted to meet the threat head on. Wanted to turn and face what was menacing me
and give violence for violence until one of us was bleeding on the ground. That was the
part that won. I literally had to look; I was compelled by the new nature growing inside
me. Feeling like someone was pressing a loaded gun to the back of my head, I turned
slowly, my black heels scraping loudly on the colored tiles.

I can barely describe my feelings when I saw them crouching in the ornamental

shrubs that lined the walkway between the café and the water. Horror, alarm,
exhilaration, terror and excitement all went flooding through me in a rush of emotion so
strong I nearly staggered. Two sets of feral yellow eyes stared into my own as the huge
wolves, one gray and one grayish-black, began stalking slowly toward me.

To my surprise, I held my ground, legs and arms braced apart in a trembling X as

though I could take them both, unarmed and defenseless as I was. But maybe not
defenseless—I felt an answering growl build in my own throat and every hair on my
body seemed to be standing on end.

It was like they were daring me to do something—like they were asking me to meet

them on their own ground. My skin, which had been itchy and tight all night, suddenly

felt like it was going to split in two, as though it might pop like an overfilled water
balloon and let the real me—whoever that was—come rushing out in a wet gush of
violence and rage.

I felt it wanting to happen—the horribly alien urge to shed the body I had lived in my

entire life and take on another—something low to the ground. Something swift and
elegant … something feral. The burning throb of my bitten finger and the scar at the back
of my knee answered the strange call of the wolves before me and the moon above me.
But something held me back.

There was a sudden sharp, burning sting, like rubbing alcohol poured into a wound,

in both my earlobes. Forgetting I might be in mortal danger, I reached for my ears,
clawing at the antique silver to get them off. It was like dipping my fingertips in molten
lead—it stung and burned horribly when I touched the warm metal but still I tried to get
the earrings out. The two wolves approached me, stiff-legged and growling, their fur
bristling as I fumbled with the jewelry.

“My God!” It was Addison’s voice. Behind me I heard a loud clatter as he scrambled

to get back, away from the wolves. I knew instinctively that running was the wrong thing
to do and I opened my mouth to shout at him to stay put, but it was too late. There was a
gray blur as the wolf on my right lunged past me and I turned my head just in time to see
it land on his chest, knocking him back to the ground.

There was a wet ripping sound and a horrible, gurgling scream. I could see that he

was trying to defend himself, raising his arms to fend it off, and then another low,
warning growl reminded me that I had better pay attention to my own situation.

The grayish-black wolf to my left was still stalking me, coming closer and closer, its

hackles raised, its eyes glowing an eerie yellow. I knew, somehow, that if I could only get
the damn earrings out of my ears I could meet it on its own terms. I clawed at the burning
pain in my lobes, desperate to rid myself of the maddening molten pain.

“No!” I don’t know if I heard the voice with my ears or with my mind but it seemed

to resonate through my entire body. I understood that whoever it was didn’t want me to
take out the earrings. I wanted to ask why and who and a whole host of other questions
when suddenly the wolf launched itself at me. I didn’t have time to duck out of the way. I
would’ve ended up on the ground with my throat torn out if something hadn’t knocked
the leaping animal out of the air just inches from my face.

It was a new wolf with jet-black fur that had saved me from the attack. I tried to

process what was happening but all I could think of was how huge the new animal was.
The other two were large, certainly, but this new one was the size of a good-sized pony. It
didn’t seem to be much of a contest until the wolf attacking Addison left him and dove
into the fray. The fight was frightening in its savagery and I fully expected one or more of
the animals to end up dead.

I stepped back from the snarling, snapping mess and noticed that the waiter and the

college kids were long gone. Addison had also vacated the premises, so he couldn’t have
been too badly hurt. Nice of him to look out for me, I thought sourly. I was doubly glad
I’d come in my own car. I wanted to go too, to get away from the savage scene. But
something held me there—a feeling that I somehow had a stake in the outcome of what
was happening between the wolves, as bizarre as that sounds.

A renewed growling brought my attention back to the wolf fight and I was startled to

see the three animals were now facing off, with the two gray wolves against the new

black one. The huge black pony-sized wolf had put itself between me and my attackers.
Even in the dim light I could see that its black fur was slick with blood, but still it
growled menacingly as the other two tried to advance on me.

The solid gray wolf lunged suddenly, directly at the wolf protecting me. At the same

time, the black and gray wolf launched itself at me. Trying to get to me while the other
one distracts him, I thought in the split second before the wolf would have had me by the
throat. Why I should think of the huge black wolf as a ‘he’ was beyond me, but I didn’t
have time to analyze my instinctive feeling that he was indeed male.

I wanted to move out of the way but again, my human reflexes were no match for the

animal that so obviously wanted me dead. I fully expected to feel those sharp white teeth
close around my neck at any instant. But instead of dealing with the gray wolf which was
attacking him, my protector turned his attention to the one which was coming for me.
Leaving his left flank unprotected, he snatched the grayish-black wolf out of the air as
easily as a man taking an object off a table. I heard a startled whine and then a loud,
grisly crack as powerful jaws closed around the attacking wolf’s throat. There was an
instant of spasmodic confusion, and then the grayish-black wolf hung limp and lifeless in
his jaws as the other animal still attacked his flank.

The huge black wolf dropped the still-twitching corpse and turned with an angry

snarl to the animal savaging his side. I saw his massive head duck with surprising speed
and heard another brittle breaking sound, like someone snapping a dry branch over their
knee.

The gray wolf yipped—a short, sharp noise of agony. I could see the massive jaws of

the black wolf were clamped on the other animal’s left foreleg that was bent at an
awkward angle. I expected him to finish off the gray wolf as he had the other animal, but
instead the black wolf let him go with a warning growl. Still whining pitifully, the gray
wolf limped into the shadows as quickly as it could.

The huge black wolf turned to me and I had time to register the fact that he had two

long, white scars on either side of his silky muzzle. He took a staggering step in my
direction and I noticed how terribly wounded he was. There were numerous gashes on his
flanks and one of his ears was ripped and tattered to shreds. He whined pitifully and
collapsed at my feet.

“Oh my God,” I murmured, uncertain what to do. On one hand, there was my

instinctive fear of dogs, especially big ones and the black wolf was huge. On the other
hand, he had saved me from certain death twice at his own expense. For some reason I
felt drawn to him as he lay panting at my feet. I noticed that while the sharp pain in my
earlobes had gone away, the throbbing in my bitten finger and the back of my knee had
increased—it almost felt like a second heartbeat.

Crouching down beside him, I put a hand out hesitantly, barely brushing his heaving

flank. The wolf opened his luminous gold eyes and whined appreciatively. A long pink
tongue slipped out from between sharp white teeth and swiped my palm briefly. He
seemed to find comfort in my presence because he shifted himself slowly closer until the
huge head was almost resting on my feet.

The trusting gesture decided me. I had never been a dog person before, much less a

wolf person, but I decided then and there to take him with me. I had no idea how I was
going to pay for a trip to the vet when I couldn’t even manage my own rent, but I would
worry about that later. The first thing was to get him into my car before someone, most

likely the frightened waiter, called animal control or the police or both. The entire wolf
fight had taken less than two or three minutes from start to finish, but someone was sure
to be here soon.

“Hey, boy,” I said softly, stroking the huge dark head at my feet. “Do you think you

can get up and come with me?”

At my touch on his fur, the wolf shivered convulsively. His eyes opened wider and

his panting got more rapid and labored. Oh my God, he’s going to die right in front of me!
But even as I thought it, something much more incredible happened.

The wolf shivered again and his black pelt split with a wet ripping noise—split right

down his back as though he was wearing a suit and someone had pulled down the zipper.
In the ever-widening seam where the fur was parting, I saw not raw muscle tissue, but
smooth dark-tan skin. I watched in fascination as the expanse of skin began to grow—
widening before my eyes even as the black pelt shrank.

All over his body, similar, smaller seams were appearing. The black fur flowed like

water, disappearing without a trace, to leave broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs and
a wide expanse of chest in its place. But what held my attention was his face.

The long black muzzle shrank to a patrician nose and a full red mouth framed by a

black goatee and mustache. The eyes widened and changed color—from a deep gold to a
pale greenish-blue—the color of the ocean around a tropical island. Only the cruel white
scars remained the same, marring the perfect symmetry of the face of the man who was
suddenly lying before me, in place of the wolf that had been there moments before.

Staring at him, I knew it couldn’t be true. And yet, as those eyes looked into mine, a

name from my dreams rose to my lips.

“Stephan?” I asked hesitantly. “Is that … is that really you?”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving my face.
“But… I don’t understand,” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze from his.
“Nothing to understand.” His deep voice seemed to resonate through my bones,

echoing with a deeper meaning. “Told you I’d come for you,” he said. “I’m here,
Te’sorthene, just as I promised.”

Chapter 17

“Pale as snow … bright as flame.” His voice was low and choked and I recognized

the words he had spoken to me in my dreams.

I wanted to touch him to assure myself that he was real but now that he was a man—

and a naked man too, which I was suddenly aware of—I was afraid. I stayed crouched on
the ground beside him, one hand hovering uncertainly over his face, watching as the pale
moonlight traced silvery patterns over the scars on his cheeks.

“I don’t understand,” I said again.
“You will. Give it time.” He sounded like a man in pain and I could see one ear was

ragged and he had numerous wounds on his sides and shoulders. Blood flowed from them
sluggishly, as though they were trying to heal but couldn’t quite manage it. I might not
have understood the transformation I had just witnessed, but pain and suffering were
easier to comprehend. I was a nurse—this was my area of expertise.

“You’re hurt,” I said briskly. “We need to call 911.”
“No—no hospitals.” He shook his head vehemently. “I’ll heal,” he said, pushing

himself up on one arm with an effort. “Just need someplace safe to stay for a while, but
we have to hurry. She may have sent more after you.”

“She?” I looked at him uncertainly. Was this the same “she” who had chained him to

the wall in my dreams? Dreams that now appeared to bear some crazy resemblance to
reality?

“Viollca,” he said a touch impatiently, as thought everybody knew her. “She’s the

chovihani—the witch that killed my father and imprisoned me.”

“So then … why would she want to send, uh, send them after me?” I nodded at the

bushy body of the dead wolf he had killed, still lying in a heap like a discarded fur coat.

Stephan shook his head, the moonlight skating over the scars on his dark face.
“It’s a long story and people are going to be here soon.”
I realized he had a point. Already I could see anxious faces pressed against the

lighted glass at the far end of the restaurant’s terrace. How was I supposed to explain a
naked man and a dead wolf to the police? Better not to try, I decided. Better to just get
the hell out of there.

“If I help you to stand, do you think you can make it to my car? It’s just down the

street.” I nodded in the direction of the water, still rippling with moonlight and reached
out a hand to help him up.

“I can make it but I don’t know if you should…” His words were cut off by a low

gasp from both of us when I touched his arm. I felt a warm current of energy—almost
like an electric shock—flow between us, and then I was in his arms.

His mouth was warm and demanding on mine, utterly sweet and utterly right,

somehow. I felt his hands in my hair and he was pulling me down, pulling me closer. I
came willingly, breathing in the warm musk of his skin and reveling in the feel of his
body, long, hard and naked, pressed against my own.

I didn’t care that I had never seen him before outside my dreams or that I didn’t

really know him. There was a feeling of completion in his touch—a oneness that I can’t

describe. It was as though all my life I had been terribly thirsty and someone had finally
offered me a tall, cool glass of water.

But I needed more than one kiss to quench this thirst. Stephan pulled down the straps

of my dress and began nipping along the sensitive skin of my throat. I moaned, needing
him there—needing so much more.

“God, Alissa,” he whispered hoarsely. “Waited for so long … need you so much…”
I needed him too, but as he moved up my throat to nip at my earlobe, I felt another

shock—this one not nearly as pleasant. It was as though the silver earring had come to
life at his touch and burned us both. Stephan jerked back as though he’d been stung,
breaking the connection between us.

“Damn, forgot you were wearing the Tsinuda,” he said ruefully, rubbing his mouth

with one large capable hand.

“The what?” I reached up again, as I had during the wolf attack, to the burning

stinging pain in my earlobes, where my mother’s antique silver earrings rested uneasily.

“Silver that’s been spelled by a chovihani,” he said shortly. “In this case, probably

your great grandmother—the Xoraxai that started all this in the first place. They kept
back your change tonight.” He shook his head. “Actually, it’s a damn good thing you
were wearing them—you’re not ready yet.”

I wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about. Ready for what? I had never

known my great grandmother on either side. And what did he mean by “change”?

“What…” I began, but a voice cut me off.
“There—there she is!”
I looked up to see Mike Addison still dripping blood from a gash in his forearm, the

wounded hand pointing me out to two uniformed men.

“Come on, we have to go—now.” Stephan rose smoothly to his feet with a lot more

energy than he’d had a moment before and grabbed my hand. Again I felt the tingling
shock of recognition and desire but there was no time to give in to it now. “Which way?”
he asked urgently.

I nodded in the direction my car was parked and then we were running, my heels

tapping a staccato rhythm in time to the slap of his bare feet against the sidewalk. I heard
a shout that sounded like “stop!” but we didn’t pay any attention. I was hoping that the
corpse of the grayish-black wolf would distract them long enough for us to get to the car.
As we ran, I fumbled in the small, beaded black purse that was slung over one shoulder,
glad that I hadn’t set it down on the table.

I heard more shouting behind us just as I finally located my keys. I pressed the door

opener hastily; hearing the reassuring bleep that told me my little VW bug was ready for
action.

“Get in,” I said, pulling my hand from his and jumping in the driver’s side. Stephan

didn’t ask questions, just slid into the passenger’s side while I stabbed blindly for the key
hole. I twisted the key and gunned the little car into action, whipping out of my parking
space and speeding down the winding road that led to the main exit from the Channelside
district.

It wasn’t until I got on I-275 that I felt free to breathe a sigh of relief. I was no expert

but it didn’t seem like anyone was following us. At least, I didn’t see any flashing lights
in my rearview mirror.

Then I realized I was in a very small car with a very large, very naked man. A man

who I’d seen change from a wolf to his present form and who I’d made out with within
five minutes of meeting him. What had come over me? Even taking into account the
strange changes I had been going through lately, that was completely unlike me.

Relief turned quickly to embarrassment and discomfort. The worst thing was that I

still felt drawn to him—still wanted to touch him just as I had in my dream. As I had right
out on the street just a few minutes before.

“So … where to?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes straight ahead and not look at his

naked muscular body. From the corner of my eye, I could see him breathing. Every time
he inhaled, he seemed to take up more space in my tiny little car.

“Someplace we can talk.” He seemed to sense my discomfort because I saw him

reach for me and then withdraw his hand abruptly.

“We can go to my place, I guess,” I said, feeling unhappy about it. But really, what

else could I do? His current state of undress pretty much ruled out a leisurely chat over
frappachinos at Starbucks.

“That works.” His voice was low and pre-occupied. I got the feeling he was thinking

hard about something.

“Look,” I burst out suddenly. “I want you to know that just because I’m taking you

home doesn’t mean… I mean, I’m not like that. I mean…” I floundered helplessly.
“What happened back there…”

“What happened back there wasn’t your fault,” he said and when I glanced at him, I

could see he was staring intently at me, those pale eyes burning in his dark face. “It
wasn’t mine either,” he added. “Although I don’t regret it. It was the blood-bond—what
my people call the kal’enedral.” He frowned. “But it usually doesn’t manifest so strongly
after only one bite. I don’t understand…”

“Wait a minute—what do you mean after one bite? A bite from who?” I demanded,

swerving around a semi to get to my exit.

He looked surprised. “From me. Didn’t your mother tell you any of this?”
“My mother’s been dead for almost fifteen years,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on

the road. “And I’ve never seen you before tonight except—except in those crazy
dreams.”

“Those weren’t dreams—they were visions,” he corrected sharply. Black brows

pulled low over his ocean-water eyes. “And why didn’t you do as I told you and stay in?
You put yourself in terrible danger. If you hadn’t been wearing the Tsinuda and I hadn’t
gotten there just when I did…” He shook his head and I could see he had been genuinely
frightened for me. Still, his words made me angry.

“Why didn’t I do as you said?” I repeated, glancing at him and changing lanes at the

same time. “Because where I come from believing that you’re having dreams or, excuse
me, visions, that are going to come true, is considered crazy.”

“It’s not crazy,” he said softly. “The visions were what gave me the strength to break

my chains and come to you, Alissa. Before that I’d nearly given up hope.”

“I…” I looked at him, at a loss for what to say. Just as I had in the dream, I found

myself melting at his words. How could I stay upset with a man who seemed to need me
so desperately? Especially when I felt so strongly drawn to him as well.

“I still don’t understand what you mean about biting me though,” I said at last,

feeling like I had to say something.

“When you were very young—well, I was only twelve myself, and it was my first

change.” He turned to me, his face animated. “I came to you and marked you, just behind
your knee.”

“My knee?” I turned to face him and nearly swerved off the road when the old scar

behind my knee throbbed as if to agree with his words. I yanked on the steering wheel to
get realigned, thankful we were almost home. I’m not the best driver when I’m upset.
“That was you?” I demanded, feeling really angry for the first time. Feeling somehow
betrayed. “You were the dog—the wolf that attacked me?”

When I thought of that memory, it was all indistinct, a big blur. All I really

remembered was the sharp pain of the animal’s teeth on my leg and how terribly upset
my parents had been when they saw the blood trickling down the inside of my knee. They
had searched for the animal to have it tested but it had disappeared and no other attacks
had been reported in our neighborhood. Strange. Now, of course, it made sense.

“That was you?” I said again, still not quite believing it.
He nodded. “It was.”
“I had to get rabies shots because of you,” I said accusingly. I pulled into the

driveway of my condo and turned to face him. “Why would you do something like that?
I’ve been scared of dogs my whole life, ever since you bit me.”

“I’m sorry, Te’sorthene,” he said softly. “It was necessary.”
“So then if you bit me does that mean that I’m going to…” I didn’t want to think

about it—didn’t want to finish the sentence or even the thought in my head. I
remembered the strange way the black fur had flowed as he turned from a wolf into a
man and then tried to imagine the process in reverse. Surely that wasn’t going to happen
to me—was it?

Stephan just looked at me, sorrow and defiance warring in those pale eyes. “I’m

afraid so,” he said.

“No … no.” I shook my head and took the key out of the ignition, preparing to exit

the car and this insane conversation at the same time. “No—I don’t accept this at all.”

“You have to,” he said, getting out of the car as I did. His deep voice was soft but

stern. “You have to believe it or it will take you unawares as it almost did tonight. If you
hadn’t been wearing the Tsinuda…”

“Look, I don’t understand half of what you’re telling me and I believe even less,” I

told him, pressing the locking mechanism and hearing the reassuring double bloop. I
walked around the car, using the keys to gesture at him as I spoke. “And furthermore, I
don’t think…” I bit my lip, suddenly losing my train of thought.

Now that he was standing and I had a chance to take him in, it really hit me how big

he was—six foot six at least or more. He had been huge as a wolf and that appeared to
carry over into his human form as well. God, I couldn’t believe I was thinking like this—
if I hadn’t seen him change with my own eyes…

He stepped toward me and I was reminded that not only was he huge, he was naked

as well. While we had been sitting in the car, I had been trying to concentrate on my
driving. And in a seated position certain, shall we say, elements of his anatomy had been
shielded from my view. Now, however, everything was on display. He was still bloody
too, but he didn’t seem weak at all—quite the opposite in fact.

I felt myself blushing bright crimson and took a step back from him before the pull I

felt in his direction overwhelmed my good sense again. “I… uh, we ought to get you

inside,” I muttered, thinking of my mostly elderly neighbors and their reaction if they saw
an enormous naked man standing around in the front lawn. The last thing I needed was
the police coming to my door.

“I’ve offended you.” He stepped forward and I took another step back.
“Uh, no. Look, I think my old roommate may have left some clothes here you could

wear,” I said pointedly, making my way up the walk. “In fact, I’m pretty sure…”

“O’Malley.” The voice saying my name had a flat, New York twang that could be

only one person. Inwardly I groaned as Bernie Tessenbacker, my annoying landlord,
oozed out of the shadows. Of all nights for him to show up, asking for the rent! Of course
I owed him and we both knew it but still… I threw a glance over my shoulder and was
glad to see that Stephan had melted into the darkness beside the large live oak that
dominated the front lawn in front of my condo.

“Hi, Bernie,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. In the past, I had always

avoided him, letting Viv or Larry deal with him when the rent came due. It wasn’t that I
was frightened of him, exactly—just that he was pushy. And I’d never been one to push
back before.

“Rent’s way past due, O’Malley,” he said, stepping forward to meet me halfway up

the path. He was short and balding and still living in the seventies. A half-opened shirt
showed an unappetizing expanse of hairy chest and several thick gold chains. I opened
my mouth to reply and he held up a hand to stop me. “I gave you two extensions already.
Now it’s time you got out.”

“Look, Bernie, I’ve been looking at new roommates all week,” I lied glibly. “And

I’ve got someone lined up…”

“Too bad,” he interrupted, shaking his balding head. “I want you out, O’Malley.

Tonight.”

“What do you mean, tonight?” I flared back, clearly surprising him. He took a step

backwards and I followed him up the walk. “The notice on my door said I had a week,
Bernie. One solid week to pay up or get out and that was three days ago. So I’ve still got
time.”

“Look, I got somebody who’s willing to pay first and last and a security deposit but

only if they can move in tomorrow.” Bernie stepped toward me again, shoving his fat
face into mine. He was so close I could see the flakes of dandruff in his eyebrows and his
breath smelled like stale coffee and cigarettes—it made me want to gag. “I want you out
tonight. You shoulda got off your kiester and got yerself a roommate two months ago if
you wanted to keep this place,” he said.

“She has one.” The deep voice surprised both of us and I realized with a sinking

feeling that Stephan had come out of the shadows to join the conversation.

“One what?” Bernie took a step back and I didn’t blame him. Stephan was looming

over him, naked and bloody and extremely large on the shadowy sidewalk.

“Stephan…” I started to say.
“A roommate,” he said, talking to Bernie instead of me. “Me.”
“Look, I don’t know where you come from, Mister, but I’m runnin’ a respectable

place here.” Bernie took another step back, still eyeing Stephan mistrustfully.

Stephan frowned, his face like a thundercloud. “And what makes you think I’m not

respectable?”

“Well, uh… Just look at ya.” Bernie gestured nervously. “O’Malley here owes me a

lotta money and you don’t exactly look loaded. I mean—where you gonna carry your
cash? Not like you got any pockets.”

I felt my face flush crimson with embarrassment. It was none of Stephan’s business

how much money I owed. “Now wait a minute…” I said.

“You’ll get your money tomorrow,” Stephan said coldly. “And I suggest you start

referring to her as Miss O’Malley. Or do I have to teach you some respect?”

“No…” Bernie was backed almost to the door now and he started sidling around to

the side, no doubt hoping to make a break for his car and get away.

“Good.” Stephan was still glowering at him. “Now leave.”
“You just… I just better get that money, Mister.” Bernie’s small piggy eyes were

wide with fear and his dandruffy eyebrows were raised almost to his receding hairline. “I
don’t have to put up with this kinda strong-arm stuff. I got friends, ya know.”

“If you want to keep them I wouldn’t send them here.” Stephan took a step forward.

“Alissa is under my protection now. She’s mine. Understand?” He seemed to be growing
in the moonlit shadows—becoming bigger and less human somehow. The low, menacing
growl building in his throat, raised the hairs on the back of my neck and I felt the hot
burn of the silver earrings against my earlobes again. Something in that sound called to
me, waking a primal urge I could neither explain nor deny.

The effect on Bernie was electric. He jumped as though someone had jabbed him in

the behind with a cattle prod and ran for his car without another word. The sharp acidic
smell of fear drifted across the lawn mixed with something else—urine. Bernie had wet
his pants.

Chapter 18

“Not that I’m not grateful, but that probably wasn’t such a great idea,” I said, closing

the door behind us. “I mean, I don’t really have the money to give him and I lied when I
said I had a roommate in mind. He’s going to come with the police tomorrow when he
doesn’t get his money and I won’t have a leg to stand on.”

“I’ll see that he gets the money.” Stephan had returned to normal size, if you could

call anything about his huge frame normal, and was exploring my living room. He
appeared to be taking it in with his nose as much as his eyes. His nostrils were twitching
as he paced the small space, still apparently unconcerned about his nudity. I, on the other
hand, was finding it to be a real problem, especially now we were inside my well-lit
condo instead of out on the dark lawn.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on his face. “The rent is

my responsibility.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said courteously. “Besides, I’m more than willing to pay

my part of the rent. Yours too, if you’ll let me.”

“Your part of the… Now wait a minute.” I shook my head. “All the stuff about you

being my new roommate—that was just to get Bernie off my back.”

He shrugged. “Initially, yes. But you need a new roommate, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but I never…”
“So here I am.” He spread his hands and smiled at me. It was the first time I had seen

his smile and it was disarmingly charming in his dark face. But still, I couldn’t let him get
away with this.

“Look, I barely know you,” I protested, and then blushed, thinking again of the way I

had thrown myself at him at the restaurant.

“We can fix that.” His voice was soft and low as he stepped toward me. Again, I felt

a shiver of desire run up my spine.

“No, look, I can’t… I told you I’m not that way. You can stay here tonight but after

that…”

“Alissa,” he said, capturing my hands in his. “I don’t think you realize the danger

you’re in—the danger we’re both in. We have to stay together now.”

I felt the warm fire running up my arms at his touch, the need to be near him, to feel

the heat of his naked body against mine. I felt myself losing control again as I had earlier
that night and it scared the hell out of me.

“Stop it!” I pulled away from him and wrapped my arms around myself protectively.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on here but I can’t talk about it right now. You…” I
reached for any excuse I could think of. “You’re still hurt,” I gestured to the healing
wounds and dried blood on his sides and shoulders and his still-ragged ear. “You should
take a shower and get dressed. I think one of my old roommates left a few clothes that
might fit you. Then we can talk and you can explain all this.”

“All right.” He took a step back, looking grave. “We’ll talk. But I think you should

know that the more you fight the kal’enedral, the harder your first change will be.”

I wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that but it would only start another round

of double-talk and I couldn’t deal with being this close to him while he was still in the

nude. I had never thought I’d ever be in a situation where I literally didn’t trust myself
but in this case I definitely was.

“Let me show you the bathroom,” I said as firmly as I could. He followed me

obediently and I shut the door behind him with a small sigh of relief.

I went to get him a pair of Larry’s sweatpants and an old t-shirt from the box he and

Viv had forgotten when they moved out. I had been meaning to give the clothes to Viv to
take with her, but I was pretty sure Larry could do without them and they were definitely
needed here.

It occurred to me then, that Viv’s flight was coming in tomorrow and I was supposed

to pick her up at the airport at three. Would I be able to get rid of Stephan by then? How
had I ended up with him in the first place and why did I feel safe letting a stranger stay
even one night in my home? Because he’s not a stranger, a little voice in the back of my
head insisted. I pushed it away with irritation.

Just because he was going on and on about some kind of bond between us and I’d

had a few dreams about a man who sort of resembled him didn’t mean all this craziness
was true, did it? I mean, all about him marking me when I was a child and some change I
was supposed to go through—it had to be all bullshit, didn’t it? Then what about him
changing from a wolf to a man right in front of your eyes? the little voice insisted. Well,
there was that. I shook my head, feeling confused and frightened. God, my life just kept
getting weirder and weirder.

“What are you thinking?” The soft deep voice from behind startled me so much I

dropped the pile of clothes. I scrambled to pick them up and turned to see Stephan,
standing there. A dark blue towel was wrapped around his narrow hips and his wavy
black hair was swept back from his forehead, making the white scars on his face even
more prominent. His mustache and goatee were neatly trimmed, though I wasn’t sure
how he had managed that. I had never much liked men with facial hair before, but
Stephan’s seemed to frame his face somehow, and I couldn’t imagine him without it.

The cuts and scratches on his shoulders and sides and even the ragged ear looked

mostly healed, something that might have astonished me before tonight. But I assumed
his quick healing probably just went along with the rest of his being … whatever it was
that he was. A werewolf, I supposed, although even inside my mind the word sounded
strange and not quite right.

“Well?” he said, taking a step nearer. I could smell the Spring Rain body wash I kept

in the shower but under it was a warmer, wilder scent. His scent. It made me nervous all
over again.

“I … uh … here.” I shoved the clothes at him and turned my back to give him

privacy although I had already seen just about all of him there was to see. “How are you
feeling?” I asked to make conversation. The soft whisper of cloth over skin told me he
was getting dressed. I practically had to force myself to hold my ground and not turn
around to see the show my imagination insisted was going on. “I mean, your, uh, cuts and
bruises look mostly healed.”

“Yes. Because of you.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I was startled into turning

around. Luckily, he already had the sweatpants on and was in the act of getting into the t-
shirt. I could see at once it was too small and too tight. He was stretching it out to get it to
cover the broad expanse of his dark tan back and the muscles in his chest bunched and
contracted as he pulled at it.

“What do you mean by that?” I watched as he winced when the too-tight fabric

scraped against his injured back and sides. “You don’t have to put that on if it’s too
small,” I felt obscurely guilty.

“I thought the sight of my body offended you.” He raised a dark eyebrow at me

questioningly.

“No,” I said, surprised into telling the whole truth. “No, it’s just I don’t trust myself

when you’re… I mean, I can’t seen to stop wanting to … to touch you, and…” I stopped
abruptly, biting my lip as a hot blush crept over my cheeks. “Anyway, you don’t have to
wear it just for me,” I ended lamely.

“It’s the kal’enedral,” he said, shrugging out of the t-shirt with a little sigh of relief.

“And don’t worry about trusting yourself, Alissa. It caught both of us unprepared earlier
tonight, but now that I understand what’s happening, I can hold myself back. Nothing
will happen without your consent.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, period,” I said, trying to sound confident and sure of

myself, as though my hands weren’t itching to run over the smooth, well-defined planes
of his chest and dip into the waistband of his sweatpants. God—what was wrong with
me? “Let’s, uh, let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee.” I turned away from
him hurriedly and went into the clean, well-lit kitchen, taking comfort in the small ritual
of filling the Mr. Coffee machine with my favorite Vienna roast.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” I said, once I had the coffee going. I leaned back

against the counter, putting the cabinets to my back and keeping my eyes on him as
though he might jump on me at any minute, the way I wanted to jump on him. “What’s
all this stuff about you ‘marking’ me? Explain why you bit me in the first place when I
was a kid.”

Stephan leaned casually against the opposite counter, muscular arms crossed over his

chest. “I had to mark you the first time to claim you—to form the kal’enedral, the blood-
bond,” he said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he frowned.
“Although, as I said, it’s usually after the second bite that it grows so strong.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, feeling the throb behind my knee and the answering pain in

my index finger. “That old scar where you bit me has been hurting, but only since my
grandmother’s Pomeranian nipped me a few nights ago.” Come to think of it, that was the
first night I had started having the dream, and the weird changes in my hair and eyes
began the next day. But what could nasty little Philomena have to do with all of this.
Unless…

“Where were you Wednesday night?” I asked. “Were you up in Westchase

anywhere?”

“Well yes, but…”
“You were the wolf who bit Philomena—my grandmother’s Pomeranian,” I

explained, seeing the look of confusion on his face.

“I was looking for you.” His excitement animated his dark face. “After that first bite,

I lost track of your family. All I knew was your last name—O’Malley. And I remembered
your scent—I could never forget that.”

“So you were going around biting everyone named O’Malley?” I asked, doubtfully. I

didn’t think it was the most common name in the world but still…

“Of course not.” He looked indignant. “I was only interested in you. I knew I’d know

you when I smelled you again, even though I hadn’t seen you since I was twelve.”

“When you marked me the first time,” I said faintly. Oh, God, this was really getting

to be too much. “So if you bit Philomena and gave her the … the infection, could she…?”
I looked at him questioningly.

He looked thoughtful. “I suppose it’s possible a dog could pass the, ah, the infection,

as you call it, from a Vyusher to a human. I’ve never heard of it happening before but…”
He spread his hands and shrugged, then looked thoughtful. “Maybe this is what the
foretelling means when it says thrice bitten.”

“A Vyusher?” I asked, turning to get myself a mug out of the cabinet.
“One of my kind—a wolf,” he clarified.
“Oh,” I whispered faintly. Another thought occurred to me. Philomena had bitten

Grandmother too. If Stephan had somehow infected the dog with his bite and she had in
turn infected me, had she also infected Grandmother when she bit her? Was Grandmother
somewhere right now splitting her skin and howling at the moon? It was sure to put a
crimp in her social life. It’s hard to be attending galas and cotillions when you’re
scratching for fleas.

“What is it?” Stephan asked, obviously seeing the look of horror on my face.
“You bit Philomena and she bit me. But then she bit my grandmother too,” I said.

“Did … could it have infected her too?”

He looked doubtful. “Your grandmother on your father’s side, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, my mother was an orphan—her mother died when she was born so I

never met her.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, of course, I knew that. But my father always thought

someone of the Xoraxai had taken her in. He … he couldn’t bear to get too close to her,
you see. Not when he knew he wasn’t able to break the curse.”

“The curse?” I stared at him blankly. Again it was as if we were speaking two

different languages. “Look,” I told him, “Clearly you have a lot of explaining to do, but
right now I’m concerned about Grandmother.” I put down the mug, grabbed my purse
from the table and started for the door. Suddenly, though I hadn’t seen him move,
Stephan was in my way.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, managing to sound stern and

concerned at the same time.

“To my grandmother’s house to check on her.” I tried to step around him but there

was no getting past. I looked at him in irritation. “You can’t keep me a prisoner in my
own home,” I said angrily.

“Watch me.” His voice sounded grim. “Look, Alissa, the only way your grandmother

could possibly be ‘infected’ as you put it, is if she has any Romany blood in her. No one
without the proper heritage can become a Vyusher.”

I tried to think what exactly Grandmother’s heritage was. I knew she was very proud

of the wealthy Roman Catholic Irish family she’d married into. She’d dyed her hair
auburn for as long as I’d know her and I really didn’t know what color it was naturally.
But what kind of blood did she have?

“I don’t know what she is,” I admitted. “She doesn’t look like she has any uh, Rom

blood in her, but then, neither do I.” I gestured at myself.

“No, you don’t. He took my shoulders in his hands and pulled me closer, pressing his

face into the side of my neck. “But your scent gives you away. As white as snow, as

bright as flame, Rom by blood, Gadje by name,” he murmured. His voice, the warmth of
his skin, sent a shiver of desire down my spine.

“What is that—what does that mean? That poetry?” I tried to step away from him but

he wouldn’t let me.

“Listen and I’ll tell you all of it.” He spoke into my ear, soft and low and I found

myself almost hypnotized by the cadence of his voice as he recited the ancient riddle
which he told me had been passed down in his family since his grandfather’s time when
the curse was first laid on the Lovare line. Again, I thought the name sounded familiar
but I still couldn’t place it.

“I don’t understand,” I said when he was finished. “It … it doesn’t make any sense.”

Lately nothing in my life was making much sense and I was getting pretty damn tired of
it.

“It didn’t make sense to me either until I saw you,” he murmured. “I remembered

your smell but I couldn’t understand how I could be drawn so strongly to anyone. That I
could need you so badly it makes my blood boil in my veins.”

“Wait a minute!” I put my hands on his bare chest and pushed with absolutely no

result. Not only was he big—he was frighteningly strong.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said softly, but his voice was more than half growl. “Just let

me hold you for a moment—let me breathe in your scent and feel your skin under my
hands. You don’t understand how long I’ve been searching—how I’ve dreamed of
finding you and making you mine completely.”

“Stop it!” I nearly yelled. “This … look, this is moving way too fast. I don’t even

know you.”

“Don’t you?” he breathed softly, pulling me closer. “I can hear your heart beating—I

can smell your need, Alissa. Your body knows me even if your mind is still reluctant.”

The really scary thing was that he was right. Even as I was pushing against him,

trying to get free, I felt my body wanting to give in and relax. Wanting to melt against
him as I had out in front of Zsa Zsa’s earlier that night. As before, it scared me to death.
After all, it wasn’t like I was into casual sex, and the way my body reacted to his, I knew
that making love with Stephan would be anything but casual.

“Please,” I said, nearly panting. “You said … you said nothing would happen

without my consent.”

He released me abruptly and ran both hands through his thick, wavy hair—clearly a

gesture of frustration. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this is all moving fast for you. But
I’ve been searching for you for years—ever since I lost track of you after that first bite.”

“Yes, but I never knew anything about it—about you until tonight,” I reminded him.

“Well, two nights ago if you count the dreams—uh, visions.”

“It’s just that everything inside me is demanding that I take you—that I make you

my own, my heart-mate. The full moon is only a few nights away and in order to have
any chance of defeating Viollca and taking back the pack, I’ll need my mate at my side.”

“Okay, slow down.” I shook my head. “Here we go again. I have no idea what

you’re talking about. Who is Viollca again?”

He frowned, his face dark and frightening. “My stepmother—she’s a chovihani—a

witch like I told you. My real mother died recently and she came at a time when my
father was … well, he wasn’t in his right mind. He was half crazy from grief and guilt.

He felt my mother died of a broken heart because he could never really love her—
because of the curse.” He shook his head and I saw a deep sorrow in those pale eyes.

“Viollca took advantage of the curse on my family—making him think she was the

Xoraxai woman he’s always burned for.”

“Because the men of your family…” I started.
“Are blood bound to the women of yours,” he finished for me. “That’s the curse.

Viollca came in disguise and bewitched my father with her charms. She killed him and
our Taibhsear—our wise woman and healer and when I wasn’t fooled by her
enchantments, she locked me up. A few nights ago I broke out and went looking for
you—I could feel in my bones that you were somewhere near and I knew I had to find
you.”

“But you found my grandmother instead,” I said and he nodded. “So will she be…?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“She should be all right but it’s too dangerous to check tonight—Viollca’s wolves

will be out in force and we’d only draw them to her. We’ll look in on her tomorrow.”

I didn’t question the “we” or let myself think of Grandmother’s reaction to him, but

only nodded for Stephan to go on with the story. “Viollca?” I said.

He frowned darkly and gestured with one hand. “She captured me with a silver net

and the moon wasn’t full enough for me to throw it off. Then she chained me in that
damn room where the moonlight could torment me while the silver manacles stopped my
change. Stopped it until I saw your face and knew you were the one, anyway.” He gave
me a tender look that made my cheeks flame before continuing.

“By now she’s got the whole pack bewitched. But the full moon is rising at the

vernal equinox in two nights—the time when her spell can be broken if the true leader of
the pack and his mate will step forward.”

“Step forward?” I asked, thinking there was bound to be more to it than that. “And

what’s the vernal equinox?”

“It’s the time when the sun and the moon are in the sky for the exact length of

time—it’s a time of great power for the Vyusher. A time to break old alliances and make
new ones. That’s why Viollca will be so eager to kill you now that I’ve escaped her.
Alone, neither one of us is much of a threat. Together, we can take back the pack.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t like you,” I said, backing slowly away. “But I never asked

for any of this. I don’t want to … to … change,” I said, remembering his eerie
transformation from wolf to man.

“You won’t be able to help it,” he said, reaching for me again. “And if you try to

fight it…”

“Stop, right there. I … I’ve had enough for tonight.” My head was spinning and I felt

if I got one more strange and arcane piece of information my brain would go into
overload. “I need some time,” I told Stephan. “Time to relax and unwind, and try to
absorb what you’re telling me.” I thought again that if I hadn’t seen him change with my
own eyes and noticed all the weird changes in myself, I would’ve been sure he was crazy.
Come to think of it, how did I know he wasn’t? Maybe we were in some kind of shared
psychosis. I shook my head, it was aching with tension.

“Time is what we don’t have.” Stephan said, but he crossed his arms over his chest

and didn’t try to come after me again. The look on his dark face was anxious.

“That’s too damn bad.” I massaged my temples which felt as though rubber bands

were stretched tight just under the surface of my skin. Everything ached. My finger where
Philomena had nipped it and my knee where Stephan had bitten me back when I was five.
That in itself was still hard to wrap my head around and then I realized that the antique
silver earrings were still stinging me as well. All this time I had been riding an emotional
roller coaster—so upset and crazy that the minor irritation they were giving me went by
the wayside.

“I’m taking these damn things off and going to bed,” I said, reaching up to take them

off as I spoke.

“No!” Stephan was suddenly in front of me, knocking my hands away. “No,” he

repeated firmly, obviously seeing the shocked expression on my face. “Don’t take them
off yet, Alissa. They’re all that’s helping you control the change. If you won’t let me help
you, be near you when the moon is so close to being full, then you have to keep them in.”

“You mean if I took them out…” I let the sentence trail off and he nodded gravely.
“An uncontrolled change when you haven’t had the mating bite is very dangerous.

That’s why I was so concerned for you tonight. Viollca’s wolves were trying to draw you
out and you almost answered their challenge. If you had taken off those earrings while
standing under the light of the moon with others of the Vyusher calling your blood, you’d
very likely be dead right now.”

Everything he said seemed to flow through my tired brain like water but one thing

stuck with me, like a branch caught in the crook of a rushing river. I looked at him
uncertainly.

“Mating bite?”
“To complete your transformation—to make you wholly Vyusher. Only after you’ve

had the second bite from me can you safely change. In fact, the sooner I bite you, the
better. Tonight would not be too soon.” He stepped forward and I stepped back, holding
up a hand to ward him off. He wanted to bite me again—to turn me completely into what
he was? So I could what—grow fur and howl at the moon with him?

“No thanks,” I said, shaking my head.
“Alissa,” he said patiently. “It will have to be done eventually. You’ve had two bites

already—a double dose of what you call my ‘infection’. That’s difficult for someone who
isn’t full blooded Rom. You’ll change with or without the mating bite on the night of the
full moon, but without it, you might very well go mad.”

Still, I shook my head, backing away from him. It was too much. Just too damn

much.

“If you’re worried about pain, don’t be,” he said softly, taking a step toward me. I

was nearly out of the kitchen by now, edging back toward the living room. “It’s a mating
bite,” he said softly, as if that explained everything. “It’s about pleasure—not pain.”

Pleasure, not pain. I could see the way his sharp, white even teeth moved under his

full lips. I thought of stepping into his embrace and baring my throat for him, of opening
myself completely to whatever he wanted to do to me. My body tingled and I could feel
my nipples getting tight and achy while the heat grew between my thighs. I wanted to go
to him—wanted it so badly it frightened me. But it was too much, too soon, too fast.

“No.” The small syllable dropped from my lips and I didn’t know what else to say. It

was all so damn strange—werewolves, witches, generational curses, magical silver
earrings, and some kind of sexual biting ceremony that would make me a part of this

weirdness forever. I felt like I would either burst out crying or laugh hysterically, but I
did neither. Instead, I pointed out the kitchen door toward the living room and nodded at
Stephan.

“There’s the couch. I’m going to take a hot bath and go to bed. I can’t deal with

anymore tonight.”

“Alissa,” I heard him say but I just couldn’t take it—not one more thing. I shook my

head and kept walking. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Chapter 19

I didn’t make it to the morning. Sometime in the early hours of the night while my

room was still shrouded in darkness, I woke from a restless sleep with the feeling that
someone or something was calling me. Throwing back the covers, I stood up and walked
to the window where the curtains were tightly pulled to keep out the light. Feeling like I
was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, I reached up to pull them apart.

I knew somehow that it was a bad thing to do but I couldn’t help myself. My skin

was itching again—feeling tight and hot like a badly fitted suit on a sweltering day. My
ear lobes were stinging as well but I tried to ignore that, knowing there was nothing I
could safely do about it.

“Alissa?” The deep voice made me turn my head even as I pulled the curtains apart.

Stephan was standing in the doorway to my room, a look of concern on his face. When he
saw what I was doing he shook his head, his ocean-water eyes widening with alarm. “No!
Don’t…” he started to say.

But it was too late, even as the words left his mouth the curtains were parting and I

was bathed once more in the light of the setting moon. A burning sensation washed over
my skin, as though I had stepped too close to a blazing fire. I dropped to my knees,
shielding my eyes from the painful white radiance that seemed to burn through my
retinas. The stinging pain in my ears had turned into a molten agony and I reached for the
earrings, unable to think of anything but getting them off—getting them out of my ears
and away from me so I could change…

“No!” Stephan yelled again. He rushed for me and yanked the curtains closed before

taking my wrists in his hands. “Don’t, Alissa,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “You
could die,” he reminded me.

I tried to listen to him, tried to remember the dire consequences of my actions, but

it’s hard to argue with pain. Even though the curtains were closed again, I could still feel
the moon’s terrible draw on my body, could hear it calling me, calling me to split my skin
and run with it, hunting for fresh, warm meat and reveling in its silky caress over my
fur…

“Te’sorthene…Oh, God, please don’t let me lose her!” Stephan’s voice was hoarse

with emotion and when I looked up at him, his eyes were glowing that eerie gold again—
maybe he was fighting his own battle with the moon, I didn’t know. I wondered what
color my own eyes were, and then the need to change overcame me once more and wiped
out any other thoughts in my head.

My back arched and I tore at my nightshirt, needing to get it off—needing to get not

just my clothing but my skin off as well. The burning itch in my ears from the silver
earrings had reached a new pitch of pain, a terrible agony. It was like a current of
electricity was singing through my veins, like two live wires were attached to my
earlobes.

“Alissa, listen to me—you have to hold it off. You have to fight it unless you want

me to bite you now.” He held me despite my writhing, staring at me with those burning
golden eyes.

Bite me? He wanted to give me what he called the mating bite right now? The

thought gave me pause and the fear that accompanied it finally penetrated my pain-
shrouded brain. I knew somehow, if he bit me there was no turning back. He kept telling
me I would change no matter what, but some part of me just didn’t want to believe him.
Somewhere in the back of my brain I thought that if I could just not take that final step I
might somehow be free of the strange compulsions that had been ruling me and the weird
changes in my body. If only I could avoid his bite, maybe somehow things would go back
to normal.

I shook my head frantically. “No—no bite,” I insisted.
Stephan looked upset but to his credit, he kept his promise and didn’t go against my

wishes. Instead, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. There he stripped
away my nightshirt and panties in two swift moves, leaving my heated flesh naked to his
gaze.

“What …what are you doing?” I demanded, as he lowered himself onto the bed with

me. The mattress dipped with his weight and then he was pulling me once more into his
arms. I had the presence of mind to realize that though he was shirtless, at least he was
still wearing the gray sweatpants. He wasn’t trying to get them off or climb on top of me,
but I was still rigid with pain and fear.

“What…” I started to ask again, but he closed my mouth with a hot, demanding kiss.

His sheer physical presence took my breath away and my fear melted into need and
desire. I breathed in the warm, musky fragrance of his skin and lost myself in the pleasure
of his large hands roaming all over my naked body. Long fingers cupped my breasts and
twisted my nipples, sending bolts of pure pleasure to the heated V between my legs. I
moaned into his mouth and arched my back for more as one large hand caressed me,
stroking down my abdomen to my drenched sex.

“What… Oh, God, what…?” I tried to ask again as he finally broke the kiss.
“Helping you control it,” he whispered roughly in my ear. “Pleasure or pain, Alissa,

that’s the only way to stave off the change without the mating bite. The only thing that
calls to you more strongly than the moon is the blood-bond between us.”

“But I’ve never…” I started and then lost my train of thought when he spread the

tender lips of my sex wide and began to stroke my hot cleft with two long,
knowledgeable fingers.

I moaned—I couldn’t help it, and gave myself up to the feel of him touching me

there, where no one else had ever been. He was teasing my clit, running one gentle
fingertip along the right side of it—just where I liked to touch myself. He touched me as
though he owned me—as though he had a map of my body that told him exactly what to
do and where to go to make me crazy.

“Please…” I gasped breathlessly, spreading my legs for more. I felt wanton—utterly

shameless. The only thing I knew was that his body called to mine and I wanted him
more than I had ever wanted anyone or anything.

“So wet,” he murmured in my ear, his voice low and hoarse with need. “So wet for

me, Alissa. Is this what you like? Is this the way you need to be touched?”

“Yes,” I nearly sobbed, arching my back as he dipped his fingertips into my wetness

and came back to tease some more. I bit my lip as his fingers dipped down again. This
time they didn’t pull back. Instead, I felt them press inside me, filling me in a way I had

never been filled before. My breathing quickened to soft pants as I felt him brush against
the barrier inside me and then stop abruptly.

“You’re a virgin?” His breath was hot on my neck and his voice was low with need.
I nodded, then made myself speak. “I … yes, I am,” I admitted, surprised I could talk

at all.

“Te’sorthene,” he murmured, kissing the side of my neck gently. “So beautiful, my

Alissa.”

I felt the long fingers begin to withdraw from my body and I couldn’t help

whimpering with disappointment. I had never in my life needed anything as badly as I
needed him inside me. I didn’t care that I was acting like a sex-starved animal—I only
knew that I wanted him—needed him so badly that it hurt me. The burning pain of the
moon was almost forgotten in my need—almost.

“Please,” I gasped, turning my head so that my face was nestled in the side of his

neck. I lapped at his salty skin, tasting his musk, and then, driven by an urge I didn’t
understand, I bit him sharply right in the sensitive spot where his shoulder met his throat.

“Stop!” Stephan pulled back abruptly. His eyes were glowing in the dim light and his

voice was little more than a growl. “No more of that, Alissa,” he warned, and I could feel
the hot, hard length of his cock pressing against my thigh, even through the sweatpants he
still wore. There was a challenge in his burning eyes, a challenge and a warning that
woke something inside me—something reckless and hot.

“Why not?” I demanded, meeting his eyes fearlessly.
“Excites me too much. Biting is love play among the Vyusher. If you don’t want me

biting you, then don’t bite me,” he warned again. His hand went back to touching me,
teasing my clit in that slow, maddening rhythm that pushed me to the brink but didn’t
quite send me over. I gasped at his touch, wanting him—wanting so much more.

“Please, Stephan,” I begged shamelessly. “I want… I need…”
“I know damn well what you need,” he growled roughly. “But I won’t take your

virginity, Alissa. Not until you’re ready to accept the mating bite.”

“But the moon…” I pressed myself against him. I felt it drawing me, even as I spoke.

Calling me—drawing me away from him. It seemed that nothing could quench the fire
inside me, the need to change that was once more consuming me.

“I know.” He spoke roughly. “Fight it, Alissa. I’ll help you.” He pulled away from

me abruptly and I gave a little cry of protest at losing him. “Hush,” he said softly and I
felt his warm hands petting over my naked body soothingly. Then he was doing
something else, positioning a pillow under me to raise my hips.

“What—?” I tried to ask but he hushed me again.
“Helping you,” he said and this time I felt his warm breath between my breasts

instead of the side of my neck. Any other questions I had were cut short when he
captured one hard nipple in his hot mouth and nipped me gently, sending a bolt of pure
pleasure through my already sensitized nerve endings. I gasped and arched my back,
eager for more and he sucked and lapped at my tender points, tasting me as though he had
all the time in the world.

It felt so good—so right that I could barely think and yet I knew I had to have more

somehow. I pressed myself up to his mouth in mute supplication. The need was burning
through me, threatening to reduce me to ashes if I couldn’t control it somehow.

“Easy, it’s all right,” I heard Stephan growl softly and then his warm hands and hot

mouth were trailing lower, petting my sides, my trembling abdomen, and finally, my
thighs. I bit my lip as I felt his heated breath blowing against my inner thighs. Suddenly,
the pillow under my hips made sense.

“Wait,” I said, feeling suddenly panicky. “I don’t… I’ve never…”
“I know,” he said softly and I felt him stroking me, his hands warm and tender

caressing my hips and inner thighs. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot where my hip met
my pelvis and I jumped nervously as the short hairs of his mustache tickled me.

“But … but…” I was panting now, breathing so rapidly that it was hard to get

enough breath to say anything, and my brain didn’t seem to want to work. I didn’t know
why I objected to what he was about to do—only that it seemed more forbidden
somehow—more intimate than anything I had ever allowed myself to imagine or wish
for. Maybe it was because I wanted it so badly that it frightened me, I don’t know.

“Be still,” he said. It was a command, but he said it so gently, so lovingly, I couldn’t

help but obey. I relaxed under his hands and he kissed me again, this time closer to the
small, neatly trimmed curly thatch that decorated my slit. “That’s right, relax,” he
murmured, still petting my thighs. “I’m going to help you, Alissa. You need to come—
come hard to throw off the moon’s call.” He kissed me again, this time at the very top of
my slit and I cried out softly in the darkness, unable to help myself.

Stephan raised his glowing eyes to mine and licked his lips slowly, as though

savoring my flavor. “I’m going to spread you open and taste your sweet wet pussy until
you come,” he told me. His words, almost more than his actions, sent a fresh surge of
wetness to my already drenched sex. Oh, God, to have someone say such things to me—
such hot, forbidden words!

“But I need you to trust me—I need you to not fight me. Relax and submit. All

right?” Stephan continued.

He seemed so serious that I couldn’t help wanting to know why. As though reading

my mind, he answered my question. “This is hard for me, Te’sorthene,” he whispered, his
voice ragged. “To taste you, to touch you without biting, without making you mine
completely. Sex can be wild between the Vyusher. It’s the animal side of us coming
out—the beast that needs to mate and claim. If you fight me, I might not be able to hold
the beast inside me in check—might not be able to stop myself from claiming you.”

I felt my eyes grow wide and my muscles tense. “Really?” I whispered, barely able

to force the small word though vocal chords locked with pleasure and fear. My emotions
must have been apparent to him because his voice got softer and less wild and he stroked
my thighs soothingly.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me again, this time right over

the center of my cleft. I felt his tongue dip between my tender, swollen lips briefly to
caress my aching clit. I moaned and jumped at the sweet shock of pleasure it sent through
me and then he raised his head and looked at me again.

“Oh, God…” I bit my lip at the look in his eyes.
“Relax,” he said again. “You taste so good, Alissa. So sweet and wet and ready. Just

lie back and open yourself for me. Let me spread open your sweet pussy and taste you
until you come. All right?”

Oh God, those words again! Mutely, I nodded. What else could I do but submit? I

could still feel the moon’s pull on my body, wanting to change it into something else—

some other shape it wasn’t yet ready to take. I had to trust Stephan that this was the only
way to block its relentless call.

“Good,” he whispered, and then I felt his fingers spreading me, opening the tender

lips of my sex as though I was a delicate flower he was fearful of hurting. I expected to
feel his lips on me, or his tongue, tasting me again as he has so briefly a moment before.
He caught me by surprise when he enveloped my clit completely, sucking it gently into
his hot wet mouth while he continued to hold me open with his fingers.

I gasped and the muscles of my thighs tensed, trying not to fight the intimate new

sensation of his mouth on me there, trying to relax and let him do what he wanted—what
I needed so damn badly.

I felt his tongue on me then, licking hot and slow along the side of my swollen bud,

touching me, tasting me, driving me out of my mind. He began circling my clit with his
tongue, drawing magical patterns in my wet flesh, making me feel like I could die of
pleasure at any time.

“Please, oh, God, please, Stephan!” I heard myself begging. By now my thighs had

tightened around his head and my hands were buried in his thick, wavy black hair. I was
close … so damn close to coming and leaving the call of the moon behind, at least for
tonight, but I needed more somehow. “Please,” I whispered again.

As though sensing my need, I felt his mouth travel lower and then he was pressing

his tongue inside me, finding the source of my wet heat and penetrating my body the way
I so desperately needed him too. I pressed my pelvis up to him shamelessly, not caring
about anything but the release he had promised me, the orgasm I felt building inside me
as he fucked me gently with his tongue.

I wanted him all the way inside, wanted to be owned completely—penetrated fully. I

wanted the sweet pleasure of him filling me, not just his tongue, but with his cock. But
my mouth wouldn’t form the words. It was such a final step and I just couldn’t do it.
Instead, I pulled him closer, spreading my legs to get more of his tongue inside, loving
the way he pressed deep, owning me with every thrust.

Then his mouth left me for a moment while he looked up, his eyes golden and

glowing in the dim room, filled with need and hunger and lust. “Come for me, Alissa,” he
said, and his voice was a deep, hoarse growl. “I want to feel you coming all over my face.
Come for me while I eat your sweet wet pussy.” Then he dipped his head again and I
could feel him lapping my clit once more while two of his long fingers entered me
carefully, pressing as deeply into me as he dared.

The hot, dirty words and the feel of his tongue and fingers inside me were too

much—were just enough. With a breathless moan, I felt myself slipping over the edge of
orgasm, giving in to the rushing tide of emotion and sensation he had built in me for the
past half hour. I could feel my inner muscles contracting and then his tongue and fingers
switched places and he pressed deep inside me again, tasting my wet heat as I came for
him the way he had commanded.

My hands fisted in his hair and every muscle in my body grew tense at once as I felt

the rush of pleasure overwhelm me. I cried out, a wordless sound of pure emotion as he
took me where I so desperately needed to go. I felt him pressing hard against me, pushing
his tongue as deeply into my body as he could. Then, as the overwhelming rush of
pleasure began to subside, I felt him lapping more gently at my slippery, sensitive flesh,
as though to bring me down softly.

At last he raised his head. “Better?” he asked, panting, his mouth still wet from

tasting me.

I nodded, speechlessly. Then I realized it was true. The orgasm that had wracked my

body with pleasure had also carried away the urgent call of the moon as it ebbed.

“Good.” His voice was still hoarse with need. He moved the pillow from underneath

me and slid up the bed to wrap me tight in his arms. Feeling uncertain again, I rolled on
my side, looking up at him.

“Stephan?” I asked hesitantly. His eyes still glowed golden in the darkness and I

could feel the thickness of his cock pressing hard against my thigh. Sliding my hand
between our bodies, I reached for him, wanting to feel that thick shaft filling my hand,
wanting to help him the way he had helped me.

“No.” Stephan caught my wrist just before I would have touched him. “No, don’t,”

he said, his breathing ragged. “I can’t control myself if you do—I want you too badly,”
he explained when I looked at him questioningly.

“But…” I bit my lip, not sure what I wanted to say. “But I want to touch you,” I

whispered at last. “The way … the way you touched me.”

“God, Alissa, you don’t make this easy.” Stephan covered my mouth with his,

kissing me deeply, giving me back the taste of myself on his tongue and dispelling the
doubts that had been building inside me. The kiss enflamed me, making me want him all
over again.

“Can’t I just…” I wiggled my hand in his grip, letting my action finish the sentence.

He groaned, low in his throat.

“All right,” he said at last, when I pressed myself against him. “But slowly—no

sudden moves, understand?”

I nodded and he released my wrist reluctantly. I pressed the palm of my hand to the

smooth, hard wall of his stomach, feeling his muscles tense and flutter beneath my touch.
I let my fingers slide down oh so slowly, loving the coarse texture of the trail of black
hair that led into the waistband of his sweatpants. Then I pressed my hand inside, feeling
something hot and hard and silky brushing the pads of my fingers.

Stephan moaned as I reached further and captured my prize, like a shaft of warm,

living silk in the palm of my hand. He was so thick I couldn’t get my fingers around him
and as hot as a bar of steel that’s just come out of the forge. “Oh, God,” he whispered as I
wrapped my fingers as far around his thick shaft as I could and began to stroke him. He
buried his face in my hair and I could feel his breath coming in hot short pants.

“Is this … is this all right?” I asked, wanting to know beyond a shadow of a doubt

that he liked what I was doing.

“More than all right,” he assured me, pressing a kiss to my throat, in the sensitive

spot just below my ear, while being careful to avoid the silver earrings. “I’ve waited for
you so long … need you so much.”

His words of approval and desire made me warm all over. Suddenly, I wanted more.

Wanted to taste him the way he had tasted me. Shifting against him, I tugged at the
waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down to bare him fully. I leaned up on one
elbow, bending my head to take the dusky crown of his cock in my mouth.

“No—no, don’t.” Again he stopped me, just before I could do what I had intended.

“No,” he repeated firmly, when I looked at him questioningly. “I can stand your hand on

me, Alissa. But you can’t do that unless you’re prepared for me to take you. To fuck you.
Understand?”

I looked at him, feeling my eyes grow wide in the darkness. I knew instinctively that

making love with him—fucking him, would also mean submitting to the bite. It was a last
step I wasn’t ready to take. Wordlessly, I sank back down at his side and he pulled me
closer.

“Just touch me,” he said, stroking my hair. “Just let me feel your hand on me,

Te’sorthene. I’ve waited so long for you—I’ll wait a little longer if you just touch me.”

I did as he asked, enjoying the sensation of his silk and steel shaft slipping over my

palm and between my fingers. When he came, it was with a low growl that sounded
suspiciously like my name, and I was surprised at the amount of hot liquid that jetted
from his cock.

“That should have been inside you,” he murmured as I touched his wet belly

curiously. “Deep inside you, Alissa, that’s where I need to be the next time I come.”

I didn’t answer him but his words sent a chill of fear and desire through my body.

Daring to do what I wanted now his orgasm was past, I leaned up on one elbow again and
lapped at the wetness on his abdomen experimentally. It was salty and slightly bitter and
my action drew another deep groan from Stephan.

“Alissa…” he began, but before he could finish, I had bent my head and lapped up

the rest. Then, doing what I had wanted to do in the first place, I took the still firm shaft
in my hand and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the broad mushroom-shaped head.
He felt good in my mouth—right in a way I couldn’t describe.

“No!” Stephan pulled away from me and turned my chin so that I had to meet his

eyes. “You keep doing that and I won’t have a choice,” he said harshly. His eyes, which
had begun to fade back to their normal blue-green were blazing once more in his dark
face. “I’ll only ask you once more, Alissa. Will you accept the mating bite from me
tonight? Will you join yourself to me forever?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes. My body throbbed with desire for him and

I longed to spread my legs and welcome more than just his tongue inside me. But a wave
of dark fear enveloped me when I remembered the flow of black fur over his body. And
forever was, well … forever. Despite what we had just done together I hardly knew him,
at least, that was what I told myself. No, I just couldn’t do it. Mutely, I shook my head.

I thought I saw a shadow of sorrow pass through those bright eyes and then they

faded from gold to their usual vivid ocean-water blue.

“Just sleep now,” he said softly, tucking my head under his chin. “Sleep and try not

to dream.”

I tried to obey him but that one word, forever, kept tolling in my brain and already I

could feel the moon’s pull on my body again.

Chapter 20

Saturday, March 18th: One day before the full moon.

I woke up the next morning with the vague feeling that something wasn’t right. The

quality of light in my room, perhaps—it was too bright. Had I overslept again? I cracked
open one eye and peeked at the alarm clock while groping for my glasses. Then I
realized, all over again, that I didn’t need them. That was strange, wasn’t it? Then the
glowing red numbers registered with me—it was nine thirty. Damn it—I was going to be
late for work!

I rolled out of bed groggily and was in the act of groping for the shower when I

remembered I no longer had a job. Then, when I got to the bathroom door and heard the
shower already running and a low, tuneful male voice humming, I remembered
everything else.

Oh, my God… I had to sit back down on the bed before I fell down—the rush of

memory was too sudden and intense. The date with Mike Addison and the strange way it
had ended. The wolf that turned into a man—presumably the same man who was
currently occupying my shower. And please let’s not forget the way I had acted the night
before, letting him come to bed with me when I hadn’t even known him twenty-four
hours. I knew exactly what my grandmother would think of that kind of behavior and for
once, I sort of agreed with her. What the hell had I been thinking, taking a total stranger
to bed? Well, he certainly wasn’t a total stranger now. But what must Stephan think of
me?

It was necessary—the call of the moon, the burn of the earrings… Well, maybe. I put

up a hand to touch the antique silver earrings that Stephan seemed to think were so
important. Could I safely take them off now? I felt my earlobes cautiously—they weren’t
burning or itching anymore but maybe that was because the moon wasn’t up.

My ears weren’t burning but there was a sudden churning in my stomach that made

me realize I had been neglecting other parts of myself. I hadn’t eaten anything since
lunch the day before and I was starving.

I got up again, to go in the kitchen and realized I was still nude. Notwithstanding all

the, ah, activities Stephan and I had engaged in the night before, I still wasn’t ready to run
around naked in front of him in broad daylight. Snagging a white terrycloth robe, I
wrapped it securely around myself and headed for the kitchen.

What I saw surprised me. Sitting on the counter nearest the stove were two large

brown paper bags. I couldn’t see what was in them but there was a wonderful aroma
wafting from inside—like nothing I had ever smelled before but absolutely
mouthwatering. Had Stephan called and had breakfast delivered?

I knew it would be rude to start without him but my stomach was growling and I

thought it couldn’t hurt to just sneak a peek. I had to know what that wonderful smell
was. Pulling down the side of one of the paper bags, I looked in, expecting to see some
kind of exotic breakfast food. Instead I saw…

“Dead rabbits?” I muttered aloud, staring at the limp, furry shapes that filled the bag.

The other bag was full of the same thing—so where was the wonderful smell coming
from?

Being a nurse, I’m not squeamish. Still, I probably would’ve drawn the line at

digging through a bag of dead rabbits, but my appetite urged me on. Determined to find
the source of the maddening smell, I plunged my hand into the nearest bag, hearing the
loud crackle of the paper as I dug to the bottom of the sack. My hand encountered only
warm, limp furry bodies. I grabbed one at random and pulled it out, studying the small
corpse thoughtfully.

What is it? Where is it? Unless… Hesitantly, I brought the rabbit, which had fur as

white as my robe, to my nose and sniffed. Ambrosia. Pure heaven. What was it about this
dead animal that made it smell like the most delicious meal I had ever imagined? Had it
been sprayed with some kind of weird chemical? I sniffed again and pressed my nose into
the soft fur, inhaling deeply. This time I smelled something else under the warm delicious
scent—blood.

I saw a small trickle of crimson on the snow-white fur and the sweet, coppery scent

went straight to my head. Before I knew it, I had licked up the blood. What am I doing?
This isn’t right… The taste exploded across my tongue a split second before the thought
registered in my brain. My appetite, which had been snarling like a hungry dog on a
chain, suddenly burst its leash. I buried my face in the rabbit’s side and lost myself in the
warm, wet flesh.

I didn’t come back to myself until my hunger was satiated—roughly half a bag of

rabbits later. It wasn’t a gradual thing either—the last thing I remembered was coming
into the kitchen and smelling something wonderful coming from the brown paper sacks.
The next thing I knew I was holding a half-eaten raw rabbit in one hand and my fingers
and face were sticky with blood. Looking down, I realized that my white terrycloth robe
was streaked with gore. Feeling suddenly nauseous, I dropped the half rabbit and backed
away from the crumpled paper bag.

“I see you started without me.”
The deep voice startled me into turning around.
“I… I don’t… I didn’t mean to…” I stuttered, not sure what to say. How could I

excuse my horrific actions, not just to Stephan but to myself?

“Hey, it’s okay.” He stepped forward casually, still dressed only in the sweatpants

he’d been wearing the night before.

“It’s okay?” I said, disbelievingly. I looked down at myself again, my sticky red

hands and the crimson soaked terrycloth. Suddenly I couldn’t stand it one more minute.
Unbelting the robe, I shoved past him, almost running for the shower. The taste of blood
was cloying and coppery-sweet in my mouth and there was a small tuft of fur stuck
between my bottom front teeth. What the hell was I becoming?

I was in the shower with the water running as hot as I could stand it, scrubbing at my

bloody hands and face when the tears started. Not me—none of this is me! I told myself
fiercely. Nothing I had been doing lately was natural or even remotely normal for my
usual shy, timid personality. Not the way I had acted at work when I quit my job, not the
way I’d been talking to my grandmother, not the way I’d behaved in bed the night before,
and certainly not the way I’d ripped into those dead rabbits.

I was sure that most or maybe even all of my aberrant behavior could probably be

attributed to the change that Stephan had told me was an inevitable part of my future, but
having a reason for it didn’t make it any better. I leaned my forehead against the cool
shower tiles and let the scalding water pour over me while the sobs shook my body.

The weird feeling of my body changing, being invaded by new emotions and

hungers I had never known before, the uncertainty about the future, not to mention the
inevitable sprouting of hair in embarrassing places that was sure to happen when the
change overcame me completely—it was like puberty all over again only ten times
worse. I didn’t want to become some monstrous being that craved fresh blood and raw
flesh. I didn’t want to lose control of myself when the moon was full or be so unstable I
couldn’t hold down a job. And yet, how could I stop it?

My helpless sobbing was interrupted when the shower door opened. I turned to tell

Stephan to get out but my words were smothered against his chest when he took me in his
arms.

“All right … it’s all okay, Alissa,” he rumbled, rubbing his palms over my shaking

back. I wanted to push him away and tell him that it wasn’t okay—that nothing was ever
going to be okay again, but I needed the comfort too badly. I clung to him, aching and
afraid but not alone—at least I wasn’t alone.

After a while, he turned off the water. “I think you’re clean now,” he said softly,

tilting my chin up so that our eyes met.

I shook my head. “Then why do I still feel so dirty? So bloody?” I had rinsed my

mouth out in the shower as well as I could, but I could still taste that coppery sweetness
lodged in the back of my throat like a pill too big and bitter to swallow.

“You’re not dirty,” Stephan said firmly. He opened the shower stall door and

grabbed a couple of towels. Stripping off the drenched sweatpants, he wrapped one of the
towels around his waist and began using the other to dry me as though I was a child.

His actions made me aware that I was naked. Blushing, I snatched the towel from his

hands and wrapped it around myself, fastening it securely above my breasts.

“Why bother?” Stephan’s voice held a hint of anger but the ocean-colored eyes were

cool. “I’ve already seen all of it anyway. I tasted it, last night.”

His words made me blush even harder and I felt my temper rising as well. “That’s

right you did, didn’t you?” I said, yanking open the shower door and stepping out onto
the blue floor mat. “And I let you because I’ve been doing all kinds of things I wouldn’t
normally do, including quitting my job and eating dead rabbits.”

“I didn’t intend for that to happen,” he said softly.
“No? What did you think would happen?” I asked, turning on him fiercely. “You

thought I’d make a nice rabbit fricassee for you?”

“I meant for us to eat together a little more … neatly.” He shrugged, looking

helpless. “It’s just that your system is a little overloaded right now. Last night you nearly
had an uncontrolled change, which is very dangerous and depletes your resources. So it’s
not surprising you were too hungry to bother with table manners.”

“Table manners? Table manners?” I stared at him in disbelief. “Table manners,

Stephan, are putting your napkin in your lap and keeping your elbows off the table.
Learning to use the right fork—that kind of thing.” I stepped forward and poked him in
the chest. “Ripping the head off a dead rabbit and eating it is not forgetting your table
manners—it’s barbaric! It’s … it’s…” I searched for words. “It’s not even human.”

“We Vyusher are not completely human, Alissa,” he said patiently. “It’s something

you’ll get used to in time.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to get used to it,” I snarled, stepping away from him.

“This is your fault and don’t try to give me any bullshit about the curse on your family or
my Gypsy heritage, or you and I being bound together by fate. You did this—you turned
me into this.” I pointed at him with one trembling finger. I was on the razor edge of
hysteria—feeling completely out of control by this time. I caught a glimpse of myself in
the bathroom mirror—my crazy, curly auburn hair and my indigo eyes. I didn’t even look
like myself anymore. “Before you came along I didn’t even like rare meat—I ate
everything well done,” I accused him.

The look on his face was half angry, half sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Alissa. I’ve always

been Vyusher, so I guess it’s never bothered me that much. I never thought…” He
stepped closer to me again and I began to feel that damn attraction all over again. When
he held me in the shower, I was too overcome with grief to feel it. Now, however, I felt
the need to touch him, the desire for his body pressed against mine sizzling along my
nerve endings like sparks from a live wire.

“No, I guess you didn’t think, did you?” I stepped back, trying to keep from giving in

to my almost overwhelming urge to touch him. “Didn’t think I’d object to being turned
into some kind of animal.”

His face darkened and he made no move to regain the distance I’d put between us.

“The Vyusher are not simply animals, Alissa. You’re upset now—you don’t know what
you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I countered, tightening the towel around my

chest. “I’m saying that I don’t … that I don’t even know myself anymore.” To my horror,
the tears were beginning to creep back into my voice. What was wrong with me? I was
having mood swings all over the place—it was like PMS from hell. “Look at me.” I
gestured wildly at my face and hair. “I don’t even look like myself anymore and the way
I’m acting…” I shook my head.

“You’re upset,” Stephan repeated softly. “You’ve had two bites but the second one

only increased the levels of Vyusher essence in your system instead of completing the
bond between us. That’s why you feel so emotional. You need the mating bite, Alissa,
and you need it soon.”

“Let you bite me again?” I said, half laughing through my tears. “Let you complete

my transformation into a monster? No thanks, Stephan.”

He was suddenly behind me, his motions too fast for my eyes to follow. He wrapped

long, strong arms around me and held me close, his breath hot on the side of my neck.
“Until you take the mating bite you’re vulnerable, Alissa, both to outside forces like
Viollca and her wolves, and to internal changes. If your body chemistry goes too far off-
line it could cause an uncontrolled change even if the moon isn’t in the sky.”

“Let … me … go,” I growled, trying my damnedest to ignore the heat of his body

against mine and the way I kept wanting to turn in his arms and touch him—give myself
to him as I had the night before.

“I should bite you right here and now,” he said angrily. “For your own good. It’s

dangerous to leave you in the state you’re in.”

I could smell his musk, hot and spicy, filling my senses and his words sent a shiver

of fear down my spine. Would he really bite me again, here and now? I had thought the

night before that the mating bite, as he put it, must be more involved than a simple nip on
the neck. What was he going to do to me? Summoning all my courage and self-control I
stiffened my spine, pulling away from him as much as I could, although he was much too
strong for me to actually get away unless he let me go.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I said, being deliberately crude. I felt Stephan

stiffen against me and then he pulled me even closer for a moment. Something hot and
hard was pressing into the back of my thigh and I knew that despite his anger or maybe
because of it, he was aroused.

“Fine, Alissa,” he growled softly. “I’ll let you go … for now. But only because

giving the mating bite without consent is as good as rape and I don’t want that between
us. But it has to happen eventually. Get used to the idea.”

I opened my mouth to say he was never getting near me again when the telephone

rang, breaking into the argument with its jarringly cheerful jangle. “I have to get that,” I
said. Stephan released me and stepped back, breathing hard. I was panting myself, from
emotion and exertion and I took a moment to breathe deeply and try to compose myself
before I walked into the bedroom and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” I said, still keeping half an eye on the glowering Stephan who was leaning

against the wall with his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

“Hello?” said a familiar masculine voice. “Lissa? It’s me, Larry. I’m calling to tell

you about Viv.

“Larry?” I said and Stephan was instantly beside me.
“Who is Larry?” he said, a soft growl of possessive menace in his deep voice. “Is he

the man you were out with last night?”

“Hang on,” I said into the receiver and put my hand over the mouthpiece. “Larry is

the husband of my best friend, Viv. The guy who owns the clothes you’ve been wearing,”
I hissed. “Now, do you mind?”

He subsided, but he was still giving me that possessive glare I didn’t care for one bit.

It wasn’t like he owned me, after all.

“Larry,” I said, uncovering the mouthpiece. “I’m really glad you called. I hate to do

it but I think maybe Viv and I should postpone our weekend together. I’ve kind of had a
lot of things … come up.” I eyed Stephan who stared hotly back at me, the ocean-water
eyes blazing with repressed emotion.

“Oh, I wish I’d called you sooner.” Larry’s voice sounded apologetic. “Because she

just got on the plane. She wanted me to tell you that she was able to take standby on an
earlier flight. She’ll be there in less than an hour.”

“Less than an hour?” I looked wildly at my wrist and then realized I wasn’t wearing

a watch. My God, I wasn’t even dressed!

“Yeah.” Larry’s voice still sounded apologetic. “She, uh, wanted to surprise you.

Don’t worry if you’re a little late—she said to tell you she’s got a book to read and she
can wait.”

“No, no,” I said hastily. “I’ll go pick her up right now. I just … well, never mind. I’d

better get ready.”

“Wait, are you okay? You don’t exactly sound like yourself.” Larry sounded

concerned. He really was a nice guy, one reason I was able to forgive him for taking Viv
away in the first place.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “No … no, I’m fine, really. I’d better go if I’m

going to meet that plane.” I hung up abruptly wondering two things. One, how was I
going to make it to the airport on time and two, how was I going to convince Stephan to
stay home and let me go alone?

Chapter 21

As it turned out, there was no convincing him. I fumed silently as I gunned my little

yellow bug down 275 to the exit for Tampa International. He was wearing some more of
Larry’s clothes—an old pair of jogging shoes, jeans and a t-shirt that was again way too
tight for him. Despite the casual clothes he had a dark air of danger that seemed to follow
him like a cloud and I wondered how in the hell I was going to explain him to Viv.

Stephan had flatly refused to let me go to the airport by myself, saying that without

the mating bite I was too vulnerable. Since I wasn’t about to let him near me again,
especially not for another damn bite, I had to let him come along.

Currently I was keeping my eyes on the road and trying to ignore the tension

between us. I had been tempted to make him ride in the back but I didn’t know if it would
make things any better. It was damn aggravating that no matter how angry I was with
him, my body still wanted his desperately. In fact, it was almost as though my heightened
emotions made my physical craving for him worse, but I was determined to ignore it.

We were halfway to the airport when Stephan sighed deeply. “Alissa, I really am

sorry about the rabbits,” he said in a quiet voice. “I know it’s difficult to accept the new
hunger that comes with a first change but my own was so long ago. I should have
remembered how … shocking it can be that first time.”

“Shocking is an understatement,” I said tightly, still keeping my eyes on the road.

“How did you even get them?” I added, my curiosity almost overcoming my anger. “I
mean, I know you can have breakfast delivered to your door but I never heard of any
delivery service that brought bags of dead animals instead of Danish. Or did you go out
and get them yourself after I was asleep last night?”

“And leave you alone at a time when you’re so vulnerable?” He sounded

convincingly horrified. “Never! I have … that is, there are a few pack members that were
able to resist Viollca’s spell and remained loyal to me. They helped me escape the first
time, when I found your grandmother’s house and one of them, my best packmate,
Marko, has access to the master account which Viollca has been trying to get to from the
start. I sent him to pay your rent and also to bring us the rabbits—I knew you would need
fresh meat.”

“That’s why she locked you up—the master account?” I said, my curiosity

overcoming my anger, at least temporarily.

He frowned. “Undoubtedly. It’s certain she didn’t join the pack because she wanted

to become Vyusher—I don’t think she took either the marking or the mating bite from my
father before he died so technically she’s not even one of us. What she’s interested in is
the money.”

“Excuse me for saying this but…” I cleared my throat, not sure how to continue.

“It’s just that when you, or rather, when I think of Gypsies, uh, Rom, I don’t usually get
the mental image of secret wealth hidden in Swiss bank accounts or whatever.”

“Yes, I know—the Gadje all have this idea of us riding around in colorful horse-

drawn wagons reading fortunes, stealing everything we can lay hands on, getting drunk
and dancing around the fire at night in our colorful ethnic costumes.” His voice sounded
ever so slightly bitter.

“That’s not what I was thinking at all,” I protested weakly, although he was at least

partially right.

“The Gadje mothers always tell their children to be good or the rag-tag band of evil

gypsies will steal them away,” he continued softly. “But it’s not like that with us—at
least not with the Vyusher. We do travel, but not in wagons, and we are artisans, not
thieves. We’re creators of beauty and light. Some of us have works in the major galleries
of the world. It would surprise you, no doubt, to know that I have a work hanging in the
Metropolitan gallery of New York as well as others?”

“Well … yes,” I said hesitantly. And then his name finally clicked for me. “Wait a

minute—Stephan Lovare—you’re the Stephan Lovare?” I asked excitedly. The exit for
the airport was coming up and I slowed down for the inevitable line of cars that were
piled up, trying to get in.

“Yes,” he said simply.
“Oh, my God,” I said. “Viv and I went to see an exhibition of your work at the St.

Pete museum just a couple of months ago. That one piece—the one with the children in
the streets of Brazil…”

He nodded. “Far from home, I think was the name of that one.”
“Yes,” I said excitedly. “I just can’t believe that’s you. I can’t believe I’ve been …

we’ve been…” I broke off, blushing. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I
had somehow gotten involved with a world famous artist. Although why it should be
harder to accept than the fact that said world famous artist was a gypsy werewolf, I didn’t
know.

He touched my arm gently. “I’m still the same person, Alissa. This doesn’t change

anything.”

“But you’re so successful—why travel?” I asked. “I mean, why doesn’t your, uh,

pack settle down someplace nice?”

“You mean buy big homes and fancy cars and live the American dream?” he asked,

his deep voice filled with scorn. “We Rom have a saying, Alissa, Yekka buliasa nashti
beshes pe done grastende.”

“Which means?” I asked.
“You’ve only got one ass so you can’t ride two horses,” he said dryly. “In other

words, don’t be greedy for more than you need. We don’t want to be tied to one spot with
big mansions and expensive belongings—it would kill our creative impulse. Romale tai
Shavale, Churara tai wi Lovara—Trying to keep a Rom in one place is like caging a
hawk. We travel the country and sometimes the world finding new things to delight us.
My art is photography—I capture scenes from many different cultures and make them
live.”

He sighed. “That’s part of my problem—why Viollca was able to take over the pack

in the first place. I was too wrapped up in my art and my father indulged me. He let me
ignore things I should have been paying attention to—pack business and politics—
because he knew that only when I was fully immersed in the creation of a collection
could I even begin to forget the pain I felt.”

“Pain?” I asked, glancing at him. The line of cars into the airport was crawling and it

looked like Viv was going to have to read her book for a while before we got to her.

“The pain of not being able to find you, Te’sorthene,” he said softly, looking at me

intently until I dropped my eyes and fiddled with the steering wheel. “Ever since I can

remember I’ve felt incomplete—I’ve burned for you every night, ached for you every
day. You can’t imagine the pain of an unconsummated kal’enedral.”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say and I fiddled with the steering wheel some more.
“I searched for you everywhere and when I couldn’t find you, I lost myself in my

art,” Stephan continued, his deep voice bitter. “And one day after my mother died, I came
back from a trip to New York, to the outskirts of Tampa where the pack was camped, to
find that my inattention to things which should have concerned me had brought dire
consequences.”

“Viollca?” I said, almost forgetting to keep my eyes on the road.
He nodded. “That’s where I got these.” He touched his cheeks lightly, indicating the

silvery white scars that marred his dark face.

“She did that to you?” I asked. My fingers itched to trace those scars myself, to give

comfort somehow, but I suppressed the urge sternly, reminding myself I was mad at him.

Stephan nodded. “With molten silver, so I can’t heal them as I could ordinary

wounds. It’s one reason I wasn’t able to come to you sooner, Alissa. Silver holds back the
change in all but the strongest of us. These marks combined with the silver collar and
manacles she put me in after my first escape, were too much. That is until the visions I
had of you gave me hope to overcome her power.” His ocean-water eyes turned dark and
stormy. “I knew the minute I saw you standing before me in that miserable little cell that
I would do anything—risk anything to find you and make you my own.”

He plucked one of my hands from the steering wheel and turned it over. Before I

could protest, he had placed a soft, hot kiss in the center of my palm. I felt my heart rate
double and my face flush at his touch. Damn it, why couldn’t I stop wanting him?

“I… I think we’re here,” I said nervously, pulling back my hand and entering the

short term parking garage. I spiraled up the curving driveway until I found a lot with
some vacancies, being careful to keep my eyes on my driving.

I parked in a compact spot and a quick glance at my watch told me that Viv had

probably already been waiting for a while. “We’d better get going,” I said, fumbling for
my door latch, eager to be out of the enclosed space so filled with tension. “I’m afraid my
friend…”

“Stop.” Stephan’s hand was on my arm, keeping me from climbing out of the car.
I looked at him in irritation. “What now? Viv’s probably already been waiting for

thirty minutes.”

He didn’t answer me in words but shook his head and put one finger to his lips. My

door was half open and he had his head cocked like a dog trying to hear something too
high to be in human range.

I listened myself but all I heard was the normal rumble of car engines and far-off

squeal of brakes in the echoing parking garage. Then, my ears picked up something
else—a familiar voice that squeezed my heart.

“Let me go, you idiot, before I call the police! Help! He—!” The words were cut off

abruptly as though someone had clamped a hand over the speaker’s mouth, but I had
heard enough to know who it was. Viv.

Chapter 22

“Viv!” I shook off Stephan’s light grip on my arm and was out of the car in a flash.
“No, Alissa—don’t!” He was beside me in a moment and trying to grab my arm. I

dodged past him with a speed I hadn’t known I possessed and raced in the direction of
my friend’s voice, my footsteps a flurry of echoes behind me.

I skidded to a halt beside a black van that had its rear doors open. Viv’s long,

freckled legs were disappearing into the back of it.

“Hey, hey!,” I shouted, rushing up just as the doors slammed shut. “Viv!” I screamed

as loud as I could. There was a flurry of commotion in the back of the van and suddenly
my best friend’s face was pressed against one of the back windows.

“Lissa, help! Call the poli…” she shouted before a beefy hand clamped over her

mouth and she was pulled out of my sight.

“Viv!” I fumbled with the door handle frantically but whoever was driving the van

suddenly gunned it to life and took off. I had to jump out of the way to avoid being run
over and the last thing I saw was Viv’s frightened face bobbing once more into view
before disappearing.

“No, oh, my God, no!” I started to run after the van, only to be stopped by a huge

man in a dark suit who suddenly appeared in my path.

“What the hell?” I dodged to get around him but suddenly there was another large

man and another. I was being surrounded. “Who are you? Get out of my way,” I
demanded, trying to get around the solid wall of masculine flesh that blocked my path.

“Step back from her—she’s mine.” Stephan’s voice behind me, made me turn my

head, glad that he was still there despite myself.

Obediently, the large man in front of me stepped back. I couldn’t help feeling

relieved—he was at least as tall as Stephan with broad shoulders and a red glint in his
cold brown eyes.

“Stephan, former successor for pack leadership.” He nodded as Stephan stepped up

behind me and put his hands possessively on my shoulders. The other large men
remained silent although I noticed one of them had his arm in a sling. Could he be the
wolf that had attacked me the night before? The one Stephan had crippled with a bite?
Stephan’s voice cut into my speculations.

“Make that future successor and you’ll have it right, Rajko,” he growled.
The man shrugged his broad shoulders, as though it didn’t matter. “Viollca is pack

leader now—our Vyusher Primeta, whether you like it or not, Stephan.”

“How can you have a Vyusher Primeta, who’s not even truly pack, Rajko?” Stephan

demanded. “You know she never took the marking or the mating bite from my father.
She’s an imposter and she has you bewitched with her charms.”

There was a faint flicker in those cold brown eyes and I thought the red light died

just a little, but then the large man shook his head and continued to talk as though
Stephan had never said anything at all.

“Despite the trouble you have caused her, Stephan, she is willing that you should

come back and be part of the pack. In fact, she invites you to a dinner tonight at her
mansion with your new woman and her friend as the guests of honor.”

“And if I refuse?” Stephan asked coldly.
There was a look of grim amusement on his lumpish features and suddenly the

brown eyes turned poison green. He laughed but the noise that came from between his
lips was sweet and feminine and utterly evil. It echoed inside the parking garage like
deadly bells and got inside my head like a silver ice pick chipping away at my brain.

“Then your woman’s little friend will die a most painful death, wolfling,” he said, in

a high feminine voice that went with the laugh horribly well. It was strange and awful
and somehow … familiar? I shrank back against Stephan who pushed me behind him
abruptly. I looked out from behind me at the man who was now somehow possessed, my
blood like ice in my veins.

“I wondered how long it would take you to jump into the conversation, Viollca.”

Stephan’s voice was low and angry. “What do you want with Alissa’s friend?”

“I am not wanting anything, Stephan, my sweet,” the eerie voice continued to come

out of the big man’s throat. “But to make sure you and your little friend are coming to the
pre-equinox feast tonight. We have much to discuss.”

“You must think I’m a fool, Viollca, to put myself and the woman I love in your

power when it is so near to the vernal equinox,” Stephan said angrily. “What assurances
do I have that you wouldn’t try to kill us on the spot?”

The cold face of the man who was being spoken through hardened and I shivered as I

realized she was wearing him like a puppet. “I know you are no fool, Stephan. I am not
making the mistake of underestimating you twice. I will agree to be bound by the rules of
Ner’y tonight only.”

Stephan laughed, a harsh bark of a sound that made me shiver again. “You will, will

you? Take care what you bind yourself by, Viollca—even you cannot break the oath of
Ner’y once you have sworn it.”

“I swear it,” the sweetly poisonous voice said through Rajko’s mouth. “And I also

swear that if you do not come, your woman’s friend will die.” The poisonous eyes turned
on me, piercing me like a dagger with their malevolence. “Did you know, my dear, that
she is pregnant? Already two months gone with child. Two lives instead of one lie in
your hands, little Gadje.”

“No!” I stepped out from behind Stephan, but the green was already fading from the

big man’s eyes, leaving them a cold brown with that red tint again.

“Eight o’clock,” said the feminine voice. Then the man Stephan had called Rajko

shook his head, like a dog shaking off a fly, and she was gone.

Chapter 23

“What do you mean we can’t do anything? If you know where she lives, we can call

the police.” We were walking rapidly back to my car and I was trying to make Stephan
see reason.

He rounded on me angrily. “And tell them what? That your friend is being held

prisoner in a den of werewolves by a gypsy witch?”

“We don’t have to tell them everything,” I said, just as angry. “We can just say she

was kidnapped and taken to this Viollca person’s house.”

“And what do you think they would find when they got there, Alissa? Nothing—

absolutely nothing.” Stephan took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. “You
saw a small taste of her power just a moment ago when she spoke through Rajko and
that’s not all she can do.” He counted it off on his fingers. “She can change her own
appearance or the appearance of others, she can control the minds of those who are weak
or unwary and she has most of the pack bewitched. If we send the police to her mansion
they won’t see a thing, and your friend will pay the cost anyway.”

“The … the cost?” I looked at him, still unwilling to believe.
“Viollca will kill her,” he said, and then, seeing the look in my eyes, he came

forward as though to take me in his arms.

“No.” I held up a hand to stop him and tried to control my tears. “If we can’t go to

the police what can we do?”

Stephan shrugged. “Go to the feast tonight and see if we can negotiate for your

friend’s safe return.”

“That’s it? That’s all we can do? Negotiate?” I felt the tears begin to flow again and

swiped them angrily out of my eyes.

“Alissa,” he said softly. “I’m truly sorry I brought this trouble down on you. If there

was any way I could go back and undo this… I never meant for you or anyone you loved
to be hurt or put in danger. Please, you have to believe me.” The blue-green eyes were
filled with sorrow that touched my heart despite my anger and fear.

“I know you didn’t mean to but … but you have to understand,” I told him. “Viv’s

my best friend in the world. She’s closer to me than family—Oh, my God!”

“What?” Stephan asked earnestly. “What now?”
“Family—my grandmother,” I said, feeling weak. I collapsed back against the side of

my car and would have slipped down the side if he hadn’t caught me. I looked up at him,
hovering anxiously over me. “I forgot all about her—we haven’t even checked to see if
Philomena passed on your virus or whatever it is to her, and now… Do you think, you
don’t think that Viollca…?” I looked at him, unable to finish the question.

“Who did you love the most?” he asked immediately, and then, obviously seeing my

puzzled expression he said, “Of the two of them, your best friend and your grandmother,
who did you love the most? Which one was the most important to you?”

“Viv,” I said, without hesitation, and only a little shame. Grandmother had raised

me, but under her care it had had been a bleak and lonely childhood. It wasn’t until Viv
had come into my life that I really began to live it. Was it any wonder she meant more to
me?

“Then Viollca will concentrate on your friend,” Stephan said grimly. “She does

that—takes the dream that’s most important to you and twists it. She’s trying to use your
friend to get to you and use you to get to me. It’s the way she works.”

“Will she be all right until the banquet tonight?” I asked miserably. “How do we

know that Viollca won’t just … just…” I couldn’t make myself say the word but Stephan
understood.

“She agreed to be bound by the laws of Ner’y—that means ultimate truth in my

language. It’s an old and powerful oath and even she won’t dare to break it.”

“So Viv is safe as long as we show up,” I said.
Stephan nodded grimly. “That’s about it.”
“Okay,” I said, getting shakily to my feet with a hand up from him. “If there’s

nothing I can do for Viv right now, then I should at least check on my grandmother—we
still don’t know how Philomena’s bite affected her.”

Stephan nodded reluctantly. “I can understand you wanting to check on her, but we

should make it quick. We need to get home and prepare for the feast tonight.”

I wanted to ask how the hell we were supposed to prepare but I was afraid I wouldn’t

like the answer. “Fine,” I said, sliding into the driver’s side door and jabbing the key in
the ignition. “Over the river and through the woods.”

“What?” Stephan looked at me, puzzlement clear on his dark face.
“To Grandmother’s house we go,” I clarified, and added to myself, Let’s just hope

she hasn’t turned into the big bad wolf.

Chapter 24

Grandmother answered on the first ring of her doorbell. It was almost as though

she’d been standing right behind the door waiting for me to come by and apologize for
my “rude behavior”. Come to think of it, that was probably exactly what she’d been
doing.

“Hello, Grandmother,” I said, when she opened the door. I could hear hysterical

barking somewhere in the background that meant Philomena had heard my much-hated
voice from whatever room she was shut up in.

“Hello, Alissa,” she said in that stern, no-nonsense voice I had feared so much as a

child. Then she did a double take and I remembered she hadn’t seen me since I started to
change. To her it probably looked like I had gotten my hair dyed and permed and bought
myself some shockingly blue contact lenses. I was relieved to see no such physical
changes in her, but maybe the change wasn’t as obvious in senior citizens.

I had a feeling that if we had been alone, I would have been subjected to a lecture

about getting myself up like the whore of Babylon, but there were more horrific things on
her doorstep than my own altered appearance at the moment. Her eyes went almost
immediately from me to Stephan who was standing right behind me, smiling politely.
“And who might this be?” she asked, a trifle coldly.

I hadn’t wanted Stephan to come with me at all but he had insisted. He had pointed

out that if Viollca had sent any of her wolf enforcers to grandmother’s house, he would
need to protect me, and he also claimed he would be able to tell by her scent if she had
been infected or not. I continued to think of it as an infection, maybe it was just my
medical background, or maybe just my hope for a cure—I definitely didn’t want to
change with the full moon. Stephan had insisted, however, that it was more of a curse, at
least, that was how his people looked on it.

Now he stepped forward politely and held out his hand for Grandmother to shake.

“I’m Stephan Lovare, Ma’am,” he said with a charming smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you—it’s easy to see where Alissa gets her good looks.”

If he was expecting to charm her socks off with a flash of white teeth, he was sadly

mistaken. Inwardly I cringed as I waited to hear what she would have to say about the
very tall, very dark, very ethnic man at my back. I was sure the white scars on his cheeks
wouldn’t help matters either. To her it would probably look like I had decided to take up
with some kind of a swarthy knife-fighting pirate and she wouldn’t be shy about saying
so either.

“He’s Stephan Lovare the world famous artist,” I said, hoping her love of the rich

and famous would overcome her bigotry. “Viv and I went to see a show of his work in St.
Pete not long before she moved away.”

“Is that right?” Grandmother arched an eyebrow at Stephan who shrugged modestly.

Apparently making a decision, she suddenly swept open the door she had been holding
half-closed. “You may come in,” she said, as though she was granting some kind of a
papal dispensation.

It was the last thing I wanted but I wasn’t sure if Stephan had gotten a good enough

whiff of her to tell if she’d been changed or not. Reluctantly, I followed her into the

house and past the best parlor to the second best sitting room. Hmm, so a world famous
artist still wasn’t good enough for her best parlor if he was less than lily white. Typical, I
thought sourly.

We sat gingerly across from each other, Grandmother in a high-backed spindly

antique chair and Stephan and I on a love seat with gold brocade trim and carved lion’s-
paw feet. Even in the second best sitting room, Grandmother really knew how to put on
the dog. Speaking of the dog, I could hear Philomena barking wildly in the next room. I
was surprised that she wasn’t perched in her usual place in Grandmother’s lap.

“Now then.” Grandmother glowered at us and apparently decided to cut right to the

heart of the matter. “Alissa,” she said sharply, “What have you done with your hair?”

“I… I changed it,” I faltered, uncertain of what to say. I couldn’t exactly tell her the

truth, could I?

“That I can see, what I fail to understand is why,” she snapped.
“We really can’t stay long,” I said uneasily, not answering her question. “I just

dropped by to see how you were feeling.”

She sniffed. “I’m perfectly fine as you can see.”
“So … you’ve been sleeping well? Not having any trouble at night with the moon?” I

said, and immediately realized how odd it sounded.

She gave me a strange look. “Of course not, Alissa. What kind of trouble would I

have with the moon?”

“I don’t kn…” I began but she went on as though I hadn’t spoken.
“Philomena, unfortunately, is a different story. She’s been barking all night and

howling fit to burst. I declare I don’t know what to do with her but the vet says she’s
never been in better health.”

“Oh, really?” I said, just to say something. “And does Philomena look, er, different

in any way?’

“Well, now that you mention it, her fur seems thicker.” Grandmother looked

thoughtful. “She’s been shedding dreadfully—it’s one reason I have her confined to her
room.”

“Her room?” Stephan raised an eyebrow and I nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Oh—her room,” he said in a much more normal tone of voice, as thought there was
nothing strange with a pet dog having a room all to itself. “I love dogs,” he said, trying
that charming smile on her again. “And I’m very good with animals—maybe you could
let me take a look at her.”

“Well… I don’t see why not.” Nodding stiffly, she raised herself from the chair and

went to get the yappy Pomeranian.

I took the opportunity to whisper in Stephan’s ear, “Well? Has she been changed or

not?”

He frowned. “It’s hard to tell. She doesn’t appear to have any of the symptoms but

the whole house has the scent of Vyusher. Having them both in the same room should
make it easier to be sure.”

“Here’s the little darling.” Grandmother came back carrying Philomena who was

dressed in a tiny, ill-fitting, blue checked coat and was snarling like crazy. Stephan raised
an eyebrow at the dog’s outfit and I thought I would die of embarrassment.

“Can I see her?” he asked politely, not saying a word about the haute couture

Philomena was wearing.

“Well…” A look of uncertainty suddenly crossed Grandmother’s face, as though she

wasn’t certain about handing over her “darling” to a dubious-looking person like
Stephan. But before she could make up her mind to do it or not, the dog launched itself
from her arms straight at him.

“Whoa!” Stephan caught the snarling, struggling bundle of fox-colored fur in midair

with a movement too fast for the eye to follow. “Aren’t you a feisty one,” he said,
holding the snapping dog well back from his face, which she was trying her best to bite. I
noticed her fur did indeed look both thicker and redder but as for her eyes, I couldn’t tell
if there had been any color change at all—she was moving her head too fast for me to
see.

“Interesting,” Stephan remarked and I could tell that he meant it. “I didn’t know such

a thing was possible,” he muttered to himself, still examining the writhing Philomena.

“What was possible, Mister … Lovare?” Grandmother hesitated just a split second

too long before pronouncing his obviously foreign last name.

“Probably that a dog could look so good in a coat,” I babbled rapidly. “Look,

Grandmother, have you seen any more wolves around lately?”

“None since that one,” she replied, never taking her eyes from Stephan and

Philomena. “Nasty, dreadful thing,” she added. “Excuse me, young man, but what—?”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Stephan interrupted her with a sharp

word in his native language that was obviously directed at the struggling animal in his
hands. Philomena had been wriggling wildly to get loose but the moment he spoke the
word, she went limp in his hands with a little whine at the back of her throat.

“Oh! You’ve hurt her!” Grandmother exclaimed, jumping up from her chair.
“Not at all—simply taught her some manners. She’s perfectly fine, see?” Stephan set

the Pomeranian down and she trotted daintily across to Grandmother, toenails clicking on
the hardwood floor, and licked her palm sedately.

“Well, I never!” She put her hand to her chest and shook her head.
She picked up the suddenly calm Philomena and stared into the small, foxy face.

“How did you do that?” she demanded.

Stephan shrugged. “You just have to know how to talk to them.”
“Thank you, Doctor Dolittle,” I muttered under my breath. While Grandmother was

still examining the docile Pom, I raised my eyebrows at him in a silent question. He
looked at Grandmother and shook his head briefly.

I breathed a small sigh of relief—so she hadn’t been changed after all. So her blood

was as purely Caucasian as she claimed it was—or at least she didn’t have any Rom in
her the way I did.

“Well,” I said, getting up and dusting off my jeans (she was right, Philomena was

shedding like crazy.) “We really have to get going, I just wanted to come by and check
on you.”

She looked up from her silent contemplation of the Pomeranian and raised one

sarcastic eyebrow. “Is that how it goes now, Alissa? You and your friend here drop in for
five minutes and you think all is forgiven?”

“I wasn’t aware there was anything to forgive,” I said, feeling my temper rise.
“There most certainly is, starting with the nasty attitude you’re displaying right

now.” She glared at me, daring me to contradict her again. I was more than ready to, but
Stephan interrupted.

“Actually, Mrs. O’Malley, we did have one other reason to drop by and see you

today.”

“Oh?” Grandmother looked at him coldly. Obviously, the calming trick he had

performed on Philomena carried only so much weight with her.

“Yes.” Stephan took a deep breath and I wondered what in the world he was going to

say to get us out of the house without Grandmother and I going at each other's throats.
Would he somehow be able to calm us down the way he had the hyperactive
Pomeranian? As it turned out, his words had the exact opposite effect.

Stephan stood up and then knelt down on one knee in front of my very startled

grandmother. “Mrs. O’Malley,” he began formally, “I would like to let you know that
very soon I intend to make your granddaughter a permanent part of my life. In short, I
want her for my mate … er, my wife,” he amended hastily. Taking Grandmother’s hand,
which was limp with shock, he continued. “I was hoping that while we were here, I could
get your blessing.”

It would be difficult to say which of us was more surprised by Stephan’s

announcement, but Grandmother recovered first. Snatching her hand away from Stephan
as though she had touched something unspeakably filthy, she shot up from her seat and
motioned to me.

“Alissa, I’d like to see you in the other room, this instant.”
Feeling too numb to disagree, I gave Stephan a miserable glance and followed her

into the hallway.

“Grandmother,” I began, but she didn’t let me get any farther.
“Young lady, what is the meaning of this … this travesty?” she hissed. “How dare

you bring this … this person to my door and expect me to listen to this kind of disgusting
… outrageous…”

“Stephan’s a good man,” I said, stung into defending him, although I was ready to

skin him alive myself for his crazy performance. What was he trying to pull, anyway? If
he was trying to joke, it was not funny.

“A good man? A good man?” Her face was almost the color of her carefully dyed

auburn hair. “Alissa, would you listen to yourself? He’s ethnic,” she said as though it was
the worst word she could think of. Sadly, it probably was.

I could feel my temper rising again, my blood boiling and it wasn’t just her one word

dismissal of Stephan either. I thought of all the times she’d embarrassed me in restaurants
and crowds, all the friends she’d denied me, the way she’d refused to attend Viv and
Larry’s “mixed” wedding. Most of all I thought of the way she’d talked about my mother
when she thought I wasn’t listening. Being an orphan of uncertain parentage and
background, mother had never been “good enough” for Grandmother’s only son and she
didn’t mind letting people know either.

Years of anger and hurt rose up in me but I still might have been able to hold onto

my temper if not for her next words.

“Alissa,” she said, shaking one crooked finger at me. “I knew this would happen. No

matter how much you look like an O’Malley, I always knew that the bad blood on the
other side would come out eventually and just look—I was absolutely right.”

It was finally too much. “Oh, you’re right,” I said, feeling my newly curly hair

crackle with the almost electrical anger filling my veins. “You’re absolutely right because

Stephan isn’t just ethnic—he’s a gypsy—there probably isn’t a drop of what you would
consider pure blood in his whole body.”

She recoiled as though I’d struck her but recovered quickly. “Alissa, I absolutely will

not have this kind of talk in my house. If you continue to act in this rash and irresponsible
manner, I don’t know when I’ll be able to trust you with the money your parents left
you.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I said coldly, crossing my arms over my chest. “But

holding your precious trust fund over my head the way you’ve been doing all my life
won’t work anymore,” I continued recklessly. I wanted to say what would hurt her the
most—the way she had hurt me for so many years. “But you know what? I don’t give a
damn. I’m going to leave right now with Stephan and spend the rest of my life with him
moving in all the wrong social circles and having half a dozen racially impure ethnic
babies.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she seethed, her face going from red to white with rage.
I glared at her, feeling like I could shoot sparks out of my eyes if I tried hard enough.

“Oh yes I would! And you can keep all the money in the trust fund to buy new outfits for
Philomena. I hope you enjoy each other’s company because until you change your
attitude, you’re never going to see me or a single one of your great-grandchildren.”

I turned to the doorway where Stephan was standing with an open mouth. “Come

on,” I told him. “We’re leaving.” Grabbing his hand, I pulled him out of the house and
down the front walk to my waiting car, leaving Grandmother, speechless for once, gaping
behind us.

Chapter 25

We got almost halfway home before I started crying and couldn’t stop. Eventually it

got so bad I had to pull over to the side of the road and just sit there while the sobs took
me over for a while. I felt utterly miserable—I couldn’t ever remember being so out of
control emotionally before. It seemed like every time I was about to stop, some new
memory from my childhood would force its way into my mind and I would start all over
again.

Stephan was quiet in the passenger seat beside me. He didn’t try to touch me which

was a good thing—I was in no mood to be comforted. He let me cry it out and then
offered me a Kleenex from the box I kept on the back seat. I mopped myself up and
turned to him, not sure of what to say. I was angry with him for asking Grandmother such
a crazy question, especially in light of the fact that we hadn’t known each other two days
yet—it just wasn’t funny. I was also embarrassed by her comments about him. I didn’t
know where to start first but Stephan did.

“She raised you?” he asked, his voice neutral.
I nodded and grabbed another Kleenex. “After my parents died—I was nine.”
“That must have been difficult for you,” he said, still in that same neutral tone.
“You have no idea.” I gave a sad little laugh—almost a hiccup at this massive

understatement. “You know, once, when I first came to live with her, I brought a friend
home from school. Christina—she was so nice—the only one who talked to me. I was
new and it was in the middle of the school year. You know how girls are—everybody
already had their clique and they weren’t interested in letting anyone else in.”

He nodded although I seriously doubted he knew “how girls are” but I kept talking

just the same.

“So I brought her home with me to Grandmother’s house, not knowing … how she

was. How she is,” I corrected myself. “But…” I bit my lip, trying to find the words. I had
never told this story to anyone—not even Viv. “But Christina was black—African
American,” I continued in a rush.

“And your grandmother wasn’t too pleased about that, I take it,” Stephan said, his

voice low and even.

I shook my head. “No, she grabbed me by the arm and marched me into the next

room and said such horrible things—and really loud too. She’s a little deaf, you know,
but she wasn’t back then—she wanted Christina to know she wasn’t welcome in her
house. That she wasn’t a proper friend for me.”

“What happened?” Stephan asked gently.
I looked down at the crumpled wad of Kleenex in my hand and balled it into a fist.

“She called Christina’s parents and they came and picked her up. Christina would never
talk to me again—not that it mattered. The next month Grandmother put me in a private
girls’ school where everyone was from the right social background.”

“Which means rich and white, I guess,” he said and I nodded.
“I’ve always hated her for that—for embarrassing me, for flaunting her ignorance

like it was something to be proud of. I guess things finally just came to a head—I’m sorry

for the things she said about you. God!” I pounded a fist on my thigh. “I’m so damn tired
of apologizing for her!”

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem anymore,” Stephan said dryly. “But don’t

worry about me, Te’sorthene—I’m used to it. The Rom have always been outcasts
wherever they go. We even have a saying—Prohasar man opre pirende-sa muro djiben
semas opre chengende.”

“I’m beginning to think you have a saying for everything,” I said, half laughing. “But

what does that one mean?”

“Bury me standing up—I’ve been on my knees all my life.” Stephan grinned at me.

“I don’t care what your grandmother thinks as long as I have a place in your heart.”

I blushed, feeling half shy and half angry. “Why did you ask her that crazy question

anyway? I know you were just trying to lighten the mood, but…” I shook my head.

“I wasn’t trying to make a joke or lighten the mood,” Stephan said quietly. “I was

serious, Alissa. Weren’t you?”

“Wasn’t I serious about what?” I asked, thinking of all the things I’d said before

leaving Grandmother’s house, probably for the last time.

“You told her you were willing to spend your life with me. That you wanted to bear

my sons.” The look on his face was deadly serious and I felt all the blood drain out of my
cheeks.

“Look, Stephan,” I said through numb lips. “How many times do I have to say that I

just met you and this is moving too fast? You … you’re frightening me a little bit.”

“The only reason you’re frightened is because you feel the kal’enedral as strongly as

I do.” He took my hand, the one that wasn’t holding the Kleenex, and kissed my palm
gently. Immediately, I felt a tingle of electric current running up my arm and the
inevitable need to be closer to him—to be touching him.

“No, I…” I tried to pull away but Stephan wouldn’t let me.
“Don’t try to deny it, Alissa. You want me as badly as I want you. I can feel it in

your pulse, hear it in your heartbeat and see it in the way your eyes keep finding mine no
matter how hard you try to stop them.”

He was right but I didn’t want to admit it. Glancing at him, I saw the sincerity and

need in the depths of those sea-water eyes and it was almost too much for me. “Please,” I
murmured, tugging desperately at my hand. “Please, let me go.”

“For now,” he said, releasing my wrist and crossing his arms over his chest. “But

later it may be a different story. Let’s go home and prepare for the feast tonight.”

Chapter 26

It turned out that Stephan’s idea of preparing for the feast was giving me the mating

bite and completing my change.

“No—no, damn it! Stay away from me,” I warned, backing away from him the

minute he made his intentions clear.

“Alissa, listen,” he said, coming toward me. “We’re going into a very dangerous

situation tonight—we’ll be surrounded by enemies and hostile magic.”

“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly, still edging away from him. “I don’t want to turn

into an animal every full moon and spend the rest of my life lusting after raw meat and
losing control of my emotions constantly.”

“You’re only emotional because your change is incomplete,” he growled, in obvious

frustration. “Tomorrow night the moon will be full—it’s dangerous for you to remain in
this state—half Vyusher and half other at such a time.”

I looked around and saw he had backed me into the bedroom somehow. “There has

to be some kind of treatment—some kind of antidote I can take,” I argued. The memory
of those dead rabbits was still strong in my mind and I didn’t intend to repeat that
particular experience if I could possibly help it.

Stephan took a step forward and I backed away until I felt the backs of my knees

hitting the mattress. “I’m a nurse,” I told him, trying to keep my legs from shaking as he
got closer and closer. “I see things all the time at the hospital—terrible things, but most of
them are curable. I bet no one has ever done a clinical study on this. I’ll find the best
neurologists and biologists and whatever else it takes and I’m sure they can come up with
a cure.”

Stephan leapt at me suddenly, pressing me backwards onto the bed, his weight heavy

and warm against my body. “There is no cure, Alissa,” he said, in a voice that was little
more than a growl. “No cure but death. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you but I don’t accept what you’re saying,” I gasped, and then he was kissing

me—taking my mouth in a hard, possessive way that stole my breath and made my heart
thunder in my ears. I moved under him wildly, fishtailing my body in a frantic attempt to
escape. Yet, if I was so desperate to get away, why was I kissing him back? His mouth
was hot on mine and his tongue tasted like cinnamon and copper. I thought I would never
get enough of him, even as I tried to push him away.

He let up at last, but not before he had staked his ownership of my mouth

thoroughly. I was panting and the soft vee between my legs was slippery and hot when he
finally drew back and whispered in my ear, “Listen to your body, Alissa. It knows what
you need and that only I can give it to you.” He nuzzled the side of my neck, his warm
breath causing me to shiver uncontrollably. One large hand made its way over my belly
to the button of my jeans.

“No,” I whispered, but there was no strength in my voice—no fire in my protest.

With all my heart I didn’t want him to do this, and yet, my body wasn’t listening to
anything I was telling it.

“You need this,” he whispered in my ear. “You need it as much as I need to give it to

you.” His fingers found their way into my jeans and began stroking my mound, separated
from my heat and moisture only by the thin silk panties I was wearing.

I felt breath catch in my throat and I was barely able to talk. “What … what does it

involve?” I asked at last, having to force my brain to think past the throbbing in my
nipples and the maddening ache growing where his hand was stroking me.

Stephan looked up at me, obviously uncertain what I was asking. “The mating bite?”

he asked.

I nodded stiffly. “Yes—do you just bite me again? Is that it?”
“There is more to it than that.” His fingers had found their way inside my panties

now, and I gasped to feel him cupping my naked mound in the warm palm of his hand.

“What?” I said, already knowing the answer but needing him to say it out loud.
He looked at me, the ocean-water eyes drowning deep and deadly serious. “I have to

be inside you,” he said at last. I felt him opening me then, parting the lips of my sex,
swollen with desire and need, and two long, strong fingers stroked across my silky,
sensitive inner folds and my heated clit.

I gasped and arched up to meet his hand—I couldn’t help it. He was pressing inside

me now, going as deeply into me as he could without taking the last barrier. “I have to fill
you up—to fuck you while I bite you,” he whispered, his deep voice filled with sensual
promise. “I have to make you mine completely in order to complete your change.”

His fingers inside my drenched sex and the hot, dirty things he was saying in my ear

made me felt like I was going to melt from the inside out. I wanted him at that moment—
wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life before. I wanted him more
than I wanted to breathe and yet … and yet, I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to give up hope,
wasn’t ready to change my whole existence—everything I was and could ever be. Not
yet, maybe not ever. But how could I stop him?

I felt tears welling up in my eyes for what had to be the hundredth time that day. I

didn’t want this—didn’t want him to do this to me, but my body kept right on responding
to his touch no matter what I thought. Was this part of the kal’enedral—part of the blood-
bond he kept talking about? If I joined myself to him as his Te’sorthene—his heart mate,
as he kept calling me, would this be what I had to look forward to? A body that said yes
while my mind said no? Or, was this just because my change was incomplete?

“Please…” My broken whisper got Stephan’s attention and he looked up from

nuzzling my neck to see the tears in my eyes.

“Alissa?” His voice shook and the hand that was caressing me so sweetly stopped,

and then withdrew. “What is it?” he said gently, obviously moved by the moisture on my
cheeks.

“I don’t want this,” I told him, letting my heart—my true desires fill my eyes. “I’m

frightened, Stephan. I don’t want to live the rest of my life like I have the past three days.
I … I just can’t. If you do this to me I’ll never have a normal life again—I’ll be
isolated—alone.”

“But you won’t be alone,” he said gently, stroking my damp cheek. “I’ll be with you

every step of the way, I promise.”

“I can’t,” I repeated and shook my head. “I don’t understand why my body won’t do

what my mind wants, and I can’t stop you from … from taking me.” I swallowed hard

and forced myself to continue. “But I don’t want this, Stephan—no matter how much it
might seem like I do. Please … please don’t do it to me. Please.”

Maybe it was my last impassioned “please”, or the tears in my eyes, or maybe he

genuinely cared about me, I don’t know. But the blue-green eyes that looked like the
waters around a tropical beach were suddenly filled with sadness and he sat up and
moved away from me.

“Very well, Te’sorthene,” he said and his voice was low and rough with emotion. “I

don’t wish to do anything you don’t want me to—even for your own good.” He sighed
heavily and got up from the bed. “Sleep for a while and try to gather strength for
tonight.”

I curled on my side and watched him go to the door, an expression of profound

sorrow still on his dark features. “Stephan?” I said, but he only shook his head.

“God save me if you ever ask for something I must not give,” he said and was gone.

Chapter 27

I jingled with every step. It was Stephan’s idea—I had on every piece of silver

jewelry I owned, including my mother’s earrings, the sterling silver bangles Viv and I
had bought on a trip to Mexico the year before, and even the toe ring I had always been
too embarrassed to wear. Up until now, I had never been what you would consider a
flashy kind of girl. Now though, I was decked out in style and I don’t just mean the
silver.

When I woke up from an exhausted nap around six thirty, Stephan had presented me

with a dress I never would have considered in my previous mousy existence. A long
black sheath that hugged my curves, it had a plunging neckline showing a generous
amount of cleavage and a high slit up one leg showing just as much thigh. Apparently, his
henchman, or henchwolf or packmate or whatever you wanted to call him, had been busy
shopping while I napped. Wriggling into the dress, I wished they had woken me up and
asked my opinion.

I took one look at myself in the mirror after donning the dress and shook my head.

“Oh, my God,” I said. I’d had bathing suits that covered more. Small bathing suits.

“What’s wrong?” Stephan glided up behind me, also dressed to the nines in a sleek

black tux. With his wavy black hair and the neatly trimmed beard and mustache, the tux
set off his jewel-colored eyes to perfection. I thought he looked more like a huge black
panther than a wolf and I said so.

He grinned at me. “But you’ve seen my other form so you know that’s not true.”
“Yes,” I said. “I never would have believed otherwise.” I looked down and fiddled

with the sterling silver bangles that ringed my arms. “Stephan, what’s … what’s it like?
Changing?” I asked, keeping my head down and my eyes low.

He breathed deeply for a moment, as though trying to think how best to answer. “It’s

hard to describe,” he said at last. “Like unzipping your skin and letting the dark, secret
wild part of yourself out. Like being a truer, more intense being than you’ve ever been
before… Running with the moon, it’s like nothing else in the world, Alissa. It’s beautiful
and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.”

“Does…” I glanced up at him briefly. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” he said simply, obviously not sugarcoating it. “But it’s a good kind of pain—

a stretching feeling. I really can’t describe it.”

I glanced at him again and then back down at my bracelets. “You… I noticed

similarities between your uh, wolf form and the way you look now,” I said. “I mean, your
fur was as black as your hair and you were a huge wolf the same way you’re a … well,
you’re a big guy.”

He laughed. “Yes, we Vyusher do tend to be large. It’s in our blood. Now you,” He

cupped my chin in his hand and turned my face up to his. “You would make a beautiful
wolf. Your fur would be the same striking color as your hair.”

I pulled away from him and looked down. “My hair didn’t used to be this color, or

my eyes. They were paler, both of them.” I thought of the limp, orange color my hair had
been before and the pale washed-out blue of my eyes. Maybe they hadn’t been very
pretty but they had been me.

Stephan nodded. “The bite of a Vyusher intensifies everything about you. Hair, eyes,

personality. When you change, everything changes with you.”

“I don’t want to change,” I said quietly, thinking of the quiet, withdrawn person I

used to be who always liked her steak well done. Maybe my life hadn’t been perfect, but
at least I had known who I was.

“I know.” The look Stephan gave me was so full of yearning and sorrow, I had to

look away. He sighed and put his hands on my bare shoulders, turning me toward the
full-length oval mirror that stood in the corner of my bedroom. “It’s time to go to the
feast now, Te’sorthene. Do you like the dress? You look beautiful in it.”

“No,” I said, eyeing the plunging neckline again. “It … shows a lot more than I’m

used to showing.”

He nodded. “Yes, because we have to put on a show tonight. A show of power—the

pack needs to know I am not afraid of Viollca and her witchcraft—that I’m prepared to
take back what is rightfully mine.”

“You said it’s a feast,” I said, trying not to think of the dead rabbits and not

succeeding. “But what are we eating?”

Stephan laughed grimly, obviously seeing the dubious look on my face. “Not to

worry, Alissa. We eat normally among ourselves until the night of the full moon. On that
night, we must change and a wolf has no appetite for anything but fresh game.”

I nodded and swallowed hard. “All right. And what about Viv?”
Stephan frowned. “We will negotiate. Tonight is all about negotiation and show.

Nothing can truly be done while the moon is not completely full.”

I made a swipe at my hair, which was a mass of deep-red curling tendrils around my

face and shoulders. “Then why was Viollca so anxious to get us there? If nobody’s going
to do anything?”

“My guess is she wants to evaluate her competition. As I told you, the night of the

vernal equinox, especially when it coincides with the night of the full moon, is a time of
power and change. She must know I will try to take back the pack tomorrow night and
she wants to know exactly what she’s facing now I’ve found you.”

I felt obscurely guilty for some reason, as though all of his plans hinged on me

pretending to be something I wasn’t. Something I didn’t want to be. I looked up at him,
and wanted to touch him. Lightly, I traced one of the cruel white scars on his dark face
with one finger. “But I’m not what they think—not what you need me to be,” I said,
feeling my throat tighten with tears for some reason.

“That doesn’t matter, Te’sorthene,” he said gently, catching my hand and pressing a

kiss into the center of my palm. “You don’t have to ‘be’ anything. Just having you by my
side looking so beautiful is enough. Si khohaimo may pachivalo sar o chachimo.”

“Which means?” I asked, searching the depths of his ocean-green eyes.
“There are lies sweeter than the truth,” he said softly. “Like the ones I’m telling

myself right now.” He captured my mouth in a soft, hot kiss that made me feel like I was
drowning and then pulled away before I’d had nearly enough. “Come, we have to go.”

Chapter 28

Viollca’s mansion was located in Brandon, a bedroom community to Tampa that

used to be little more than farmland. The area had grown in leaps and bounds in the last
several years, the population quickly outgrowing the roads and now the traffic there is
always horrible. We were riding in a shiny black SUV that was more suited to Stephan’s
large frame than my tiny yellow bug and his best packmate, Marko, was driving. There
were two other “wolves” that were loyal to Stephan sitting in the front as well, looking
big and muscular and imposing. Stephan and I had the back to ourselves.

He was holding my hand tightly and giving me last minute instructions. “Remember

to stay indoors and away from the windows,” he said, giving me a worried glance.

“But won’t the silver protect me?” I asked, reaching up reflexively to touch the

antique silver earrings that were already itching as the twilight deepened.

“For a while,” Stephan said. “The longer the moon is in the sky, the stronger its pull,

so we’ll try not to stay too long.” He didn’t sound very happy about it and that made two
of us. Remembering the way he had helped me fight off the moon’s call the night before,
I shivered. No matter how earth-shatteringly pleasurable it had been, I had absolutely no
wish to repeat last night’s performance for an audience. But how long was too long?
Before I could ask, the Escalade was pulling up in front of a huge, gaudy house that
looked like someone’s twisted idea of nouveaux riche splendor.

“I thought the Rom didn’t go in for big houses and worldly possessions,” I said,

eyeing the gaudy house and expansive rolling lawns surrounding it.

“We don’t,” Stephan said, his deep voice bitter. “But Viollca is a new breed, all to

herself—she doesn’t care about the old ways. She bought this house and all that goes
with it using money my father gave her before she killed him. The rest of the funds are
out of her reach so I don’t know what she’s doing for money now.”

“I’d say she’s getting it somewhere,” I murmured, eyeing the expensive luxury cars

that lined the circular driveway. It was getting too dark to tell, but one of them looked
like a disturbingly familiar Jaguar.

White marble columns marched across the front of a broad porch and led to a set of

double doors painted an appalling shade of bright pink. Where had I seen that kind of
pink before? I was beginning to get bad feelings on top of the bad feelings I already had
as we parked and walked up the front steps. There was a faux gold knocker in the shape
of a wolf’s head in the middle of each door but before Stephan could lift it, I felt a cold
hand on the back of my neck.

“Well, well, the stupid little Gadje,” a low feminine voice purred in my ear.
I twisted in the tight grip, feeling the long fingers like ice-cubes skittering down my

skin and found myself face to face with Hot Sex Barbie—the same woman I had been in
the fender bender with on my birthday. Her long black hair was loose around her face and
the poison green eyes were glaring into mine. Her outfit was a long pink gown that
showed even more skin than my own and she smelled like she’d taken a bath in some
very strong, very expensive perfume. How the hell had she gotten around behind us and
what did she want with me? Then Stephan’s voice cut into my confused thoughts.

“That’s enough, Viollca—let her go.”

“Viollca?” I said the name aloud, wondering why I hadn’t put two and two together

before. No wonder the evil voice in the parking garage had sounded familiar.

I had been so concerned with all of the crazy changes in my life and my body that I

had completely pushed the minor matter of my traffic ticket out of my mind. Now I
remembered she had called me Gadje then too—the Rom name for other, or non-Rom, as
Stephan had explained it. It was beginning to be clear the accident we’d been in together
was no accident at all. Had Viollca just been checking out the competition?

“Where’s Viv? What do you want with my friend?” I said thorough gritted teeth,

twisting away from her ice-cold grip.

“I think a better question is what you are wanting with my stepson.” Viollca grinned

at me—her blood red lips parting to reveal sharp, even white teeth and stepped over to
Stephan. “He is a handsome one, no?” she purred, running one long red fingernail up and
down his broad chest.

I was surprised at the dagger of jealousy that stabbed me in the pit of my stomach

like an icicle. Before I knew it, I was in her face. “Get away from him,” I snarled, feeling
every hair on my head stand up. “He’s mine.”

“Ah, you are a touchy little Gadje, aren’t you?” she sneered. “Have no fear, my

sweet, no harm shall come to either one of you under my roof. Not tonight, anyway—
while I am bound by Ner’y. Tomorrow may be a different story.” She swept past us
through the pink double doors in a cloud of poison-sweet perfume, leaving me, Stephan
and his wolves to follow in her wake.

“Come.” Stephan looked grim as he took my hand and led me into the spacious

house. His wolves spread out behind him in a loose semi-circle, keeping both of us in
their sights. They reminded me of secret service agents.

We entered a large room that looked like the inside of a Barbie dream house. It was

filled with people dressed to kill. The men all wore tuxedos or at least nice suits and most
of the dresses I saw on the women were considerably skimpier than my own. I mentally
gave Stephan credit for at least knowing me well enough to understand what I would and
wouldn’t wear. If he had presented me with any number of the gowns I was seeing
tonight, I would have refused point blank.

I noticed a fair number of women had on silver jewelry and even some of the men

were wearing chunky silver bracelets. No one had quite as much as me, but at least I
didn’t feel out of place. I wondered though, why they were wearing it. Stephan had said
that silver inhibited the change from human to wolf. Did they want to keep from
changing for some reason?

We mixed with the surprisingly normal-looking crowd, staying close even as we

went further into the room. I think I had expected a scene straight out of one of the Goth
clubs with dramatic make-up and booming music but it was like every boring social event
Grandmother had ever dragged me to—minus Philomena’s shrill barking, of course.
People mingled, talking in low voices, drinking champagne and eating small canapés
from silver trays circulated by waiters in dark suits. It was hard to believe that at any
minute any one of them could shed their fancy clothes, grow fur and fangs and start
howling at the moon.

The only strange thing about them as far as I could see, was their eyes. Many of them

seemed to have the same red glint far back in the depths that I had seen in the eyes of
Rajko and the other hostile wolves that Viollca had sent to the airport to kidnap Viv. Hot

Sex Barbie herself was nowhere to be seen—presumably she was somewhere else in the
house, doubtless up to no good.

I was scanning the room eagerly for Viv’s freckled face and when I saw her, I

wanted to run to her immediately. Only Stephan’s hand on my arm stopped me. We
walked sedately across the room but when I got close enough to hug her, I couldn’t help
myself. We fell into each other’s arms.

“Are you all right?” I breathed, feeling her arms go shaky-tight around me as I

hugged her close.

“Just barely,” she whispered back, with a little half laugh—half sob. “They haven’t

hurt me—just scared the bejesus out of me. Who ever heard of kidnappers making you
dress up and go to a fancy cocktail party? Like the dress?”

She pulled back and I saw she was wearing a silky, slinky dark-brown gown that

brought out her eyes to perfection. Like the other gowns in the room, it didn’t cover
much.

“Geeze,” I said with a crooked smile. “It’s hot all right. I think I could count every

one of your freckles if I wanted to.”

Viv blushed and shook her head. Then she did a double take. “But what about you?

What did you do to your hair?” She looked at me closely. “And your eyes?”

“It’s a long story.” I was uncertain of how much I would be able to tell her, here on

what was essentially enemy territory.

“Lissa, why am I here? What do they want with me?” Viv asked in a low, worried

voice. “Nobody will tell me anything. It’s just been, ‘sit here, shut up, wear this’. I don’t
understand.”

“That makes two of us,” I told her and then a warm hand on my arm reminded me

we weren’t alone.

“I’m afraid I am the reason you’re here. My most sincere apologies.” Stephan’s deep

voice sounded regretful as he stepped forward.

“Viv,” I said, turning to make the introductions. “This is Stephan Lovare.”
Stephan held out a hand and Viv took it, her eyes lighting up. “You’re not the

Stephan Lovare, are you?” she said, making the connection at once. Going to see his
exhibit at the St. Pete museum had been her idea in the first place.

He nodded, a small smile flitting across his full mouth. “I am but that’s beside the

point tonight.”

“Beside the point?” Viv looked at me with wide eyes. “Lissa, why didn’t you tell me

you were hooking up with a world famous hottie? Last I heard you were dating Doctor
Addison.”

“She is not dating him any longer.” There was a low, possessive growl in Stephan’s

voice as he pulled me close to his side, one muscular arm draped protectively across my
shoulders.

Viv looked at us, her eyes widening even further. “Uh, okay big guy, whatever you

say,” she muttered, clearly confused. I wanted to reassure her but I wasn’t sure how. How
could I tell her that Stephan’s possessiveness wasn’t unwelcome—that in fact, I was
almost as possessive about him? No doubt it was the blood-bond he kept talking about
that was drawing us closer, but for whatever reason, I knew I didn’t like the idea of any
other woman touching him.

I found my hand exploring his broad chest and Viv was still watching me with a

worried expression on her face. I made myself stop petting him and step away—just
because I ached to touch him every second didn’t mean I had to.

“Come with me to powder my nose,” Viv said, hooking her arm through mine and

giving Stephan another wide-eyed glance. “You wouldn’t believe the bathrooms in this
place—whoever decorated has pink on the brain.”

I glanced at Stephan, uncertain if it was safe to leave him and his phalanx of wolves.

He nodded reassuringly. “Viollca and everyone here are bound by the oath of Ner’y
tonight. You are safe to go where you choose as long as you stay indoors.” He pulled me
away from Viv for a moment and lowered his voice. “Be careful what you say and be
sure you’re alone with your friend if you want to talk. All right?”

“All right,” I said.
He nodded as though satisfied and gave me one of those spine-tingling kisses I was

becoming so addicted to. I had the sudden urge to rip off his natty tux right then and there
and roll around on the floor with him despite the well-dressed party goers. Instead, I
made myself step back and take Viv’s arm again.

“Come on,” I said. “Lead the way to the Ladies.”
We were halfway down a long hallway that actually had pink carpet to match the

pale pink watered silk wallpaper when a door opened suddenly and a hand reached out
and grabbed me.

“Hey!” I protested before I was yanked into the small side room and another hand

found its way over my mouth.

Viv already had her mouth open to yell when my abductor said in a low feminine

voice, “Say nothing. I mean you no harm.”

My eyes adjusted to the dark room and I saw a girl with dark brown hair and large

brown eyes was staring back at me and Viv who had followed us into the room. The girl
was wearing a tight silver choker around her neck that looked to be at least two inches
thick. To me, it looked more like a collar than a necklace.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I demanded, lowering my voice as well.
“You are Stephan’s Te’sorthene, yes?” she asked, not answering my question.
“Well … yes,” I said hesitantly, uncertain if I really qualified as his “heart-mate”

when I wasn’t completely changed.

She breathed a small sigh of relief. “Good. I am so glad he found you. He’s going to

need your strength to defeat Viollca.”

“My strength?” I asked, uncomprehending before Viv broke in.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I didn’t see you when they brought me in here today. Of

course, I didn’t get to see much of anything.”

“My name is Marishka—I’m Marko’s mate,” the girl with dark eyes said. “Being

separated from him these past few months has been hell, but we knew someone had to
stay close to Viollca to keep an eye on her doings. O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo
athadjol, as Stephan would say.”

Viv and I looked at her blankly.
“I’m sorry—I forgot you’re both Gadje,” Marishka apologized. “That is an old Rom

saying. It means ‘the rabbit which has only one hole is soon caught’. Listen,” She leaned
closer. “I don’t have much time. I just wanted to let you know that not everyone is under
Viollca’s spell. She can’t hold us forever—the closer we draw to the vernal equinox, the

more of us throw off her enchantment. That’s why she has so many of us wearing silver.”
She tugged at the tight silver choker around her neck with a grimace of disgust and
looked at me carefully. “But why are you wearing it?”

“Stephan, uh, thought it would be better for me to be careful while we were here

tonight,” I said, thinking fast. She seemed to assume I was completely changed and
Stephan and I were tied up in a neat little bundle. Nothing could be farther from the truth
but I wasn’t about to tell that to anyone I didn’t really know.

Apparently my vague answer satisfied her, because she nodded briefly before going

on. “Tell Stephan many of us are with him—that only Viollca’s charmed silver is holding
us back. If he can break her power, all this,” she tugged at the collar around her slender
throat again, “will hold us no more and we will rush to his side. But he must be careful—
some can no longer be trusted.”

“The ones with the red glint in their eyes,” I guessed and she smiled approvingly.
“Yes—those are the Vyusher whose souls are rotten—completely taken over by

Viollca’s evil. She acts through them—even speaks through them at times.” She shivered
and I felt an answering spasm of goose flesh crawl down my own spine, remembering
Viollca’s high, evil laughter coming from Rajko’s fleshy lips.

“I’ll tell him,” I promised her.
“Good.” She hugged me and gave me an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “Thank all the

gods that Stephan found you. Never could he defeat that chovihani—sorry, that witch,
Viollca, with the horrible blood-curse hanging over his head.” She stepped back and
looked at me curiously. “Is it true that you’re going to be our new Taibhsear? Our healer,
I mean? Can you really heal with your touch?”

Viv and I looked at each other and I shrugged. “Well, I’m a nurse,” I said carefully,

uncertain of what she meant.

“Marko got word to me that you healed Stephan of terrible wounds the other night—

simply by touching him,” Marishka said, her brown eyes wide with awe I felt I didn’t
deserve.

“I don’t know about that,” I said uncomfortably. I remembered the instant lust

reaction I’d had to Stephan the first time I touched him and the way we had been
practically rolling on the ground outside Zsa Zsa’s after he changed back from wolf to
human. Later, when I had remarked on how quickly the wounds from the wolf fight had
healed, he had attributed it to me but never explained his statements. Could the two
things be related?

“I don’t know,” I said again.
“You will,” Marishka said firmly. “When the time is right the spirit will be passed to

you—she cannot rest until it is.”

“She who?” I said, now thoroughly confused.
“Tabba, our old Taibhsear,” she said, a touch impatiently. “I miss her terribly—she

was like a mother to me. But you will be like a sister.” She gave me another peck on the
cheek and then stepped back. “You should go—if Viollca finds me talking to you, she’ll
suspect.”

I nodded. “It … it was nice to meet you,” I said, reaching for the doorknob.
“Wait…” There were tears suddenly in the big brown eyes as Marishka leaned close

again. “I can’t talk to him here, not where everyone can see, but tell my beloved—tell
Marko, I mean, that I miss him. Tell him we’ll be together soon. All right?”

I took her hand and squeezed it. How difficult for her to be stuck in the enemy camp,

missing her husband and unable to go to him. “All right,” I said and she gave me a watery
smile.

“Good, now go. Hurry!” She pushed us out the door and into the pink hallway again.
“What was that all about?” Viv muttered, taking my arm again. “I didn’t understand

a word of what she said.”

“Hell if I know,” I said, although I had sort of an idea about some of it.
We continued at a sedate pace to the Ladies room as though nothing had happened

but my head was reeling with the strange information the girl, Marishka, had given me.

Once inside the small plush, ultra-pink room, I made sure we were alone and then

locked the door. We were in an anteroom that had double sinks and a large vanity mirror.
The marble countertop was pink with gold veins running through it and the soap and
hand towels were various shades of the same color. Viv was right—Hot Sex Barbie,
AKA Viollca, definitely had a hand in decorating this area.

I turned to Viv. “Listen up,” I said in a low voice. “I don’t know how much longer

we’ve got so I have to go fast. There’s too much to go into detail and a lot of it is going to
sound crazy but just bear with me and you can ask questions when I finish. Okay?”

Mutely, she nodded. Leaning against the gold-veined pink marble countertop, I

started with the day I’d been bitten by Philomena and went from there, not forgetting the
dreams or Stephan’s amazing transformation from wolf to man the night before. I left out
the bag of dead rabbits, not because I thought Viv would think less of me, but because I
still couldn’t bear to think of it myself.

When I was finished she shook her head, bewilderment plain in her big eyes. “Look,

Lissa, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just so … so…” She shook her head again.
“Are you seriously telling me that all those people out there, including Stephan Lovare
are … are werewolves?”

I nodded solemnly, letting her know it was no joke. “Yes, but they call themselves

Vyusher,” I said, trying to get the pronunciation just right, the way Stephan did. I turned
to her, biting my lip. “Look, I know it sounds strange, Viv—even crazy. But you have to
believe me because, well, I’m turning into one too.”

“You’re what?” It was as though my story finally hit home with her. As though,

despite all the details I had told her about craving raw meat and seeing my eyes and hair
change, only my last statement had made a real impression.

I nodded again. “It’s true,” I said, swallowing past a lump in my throat. I’d had

enough crying that day, I didn’t want to give in to my wildly erratic emotions yet again.
“That’s why I’m wearing all this silver.” I shook my arm, and the silver bangles clashed
together musically. “It … it inhibits the change, just like that girl Marishka said.”

Viv’s eyes were wide. “Lissa, honey, are you sure about this? I mean, you look so

different I can tell that something’s going on but … well, this wouldn’t exactly be my
first guess.”

I gave a laugh that wanted to turn into a sob. “I know, Viv, mine either. Talk about

an extreme make-over, huh? But I felt it last night. It’s like this horrible pulling sensation,
a feeling like your body wants to turn itself inside out—into something completely
different.”

“Did you? Change into a … whatever?” she asked, leaning closer to me as though

she could see the answer in my eyes.

I shook my head. “No. Stephan stopped it—barely. I’m afraid… I’m afraid he might

not be able to stop it again. Tomorrow night’s the full moon and apparently…” I couldn’t
go on. Biting my lip to keep from crying, I looked down, tracing an aimless pattern on the
pink marble countertop.

“Oh, Lissa. I’m so sorry, honey.” Viv enfolded me in her arms and we held onto

each other, two friends whose world had been turned upside down. I hugged her tight and
hard, not wanting to think about the future, not wanting any of this to be true.

Finally I pulled away, glad I had managed to hold back the tears although my eyes,

in the gilt-edged vanity mirror, looked suspiciously red. “I’m not the only one in trouble
here, Viv,” I said, trying to smile. “I’m just so sorry you got dragged into this. I wanted to
tell you not to come but things were so crazy and then Larry called and said you were on
your way.”

“Oh, God, Larry…” She put a hand over her mouth briefly and closed her eyes

tightly for a minute. “He doesn’t know about this, does he?” she asked at last. “I mean, I
rang him as soon as I got off the plane to let him know I landed safely but that was right
before those goons jumped me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling helpless and angry. “Stephan said it would be a bad thing

to involve anyone. I wanted to call the police but he said…” I shook my head, not
wanting to tell her what he’d said about her fate if we involved an outside agency. “Let’s
just say I saw some things after you were taken that convinced me he was right.” I
thought again of the strange spectacle of Rajko’s possession, of the way Viollca’s voice
had come out of his mouth.

“So, Larry probably thinks we’re out right now sipping banana daiquiris,” Viv said

numbly.

“Yeah…” I traced another line on the pink marble countertop. “Virgin daiquiris. Viv,

I know you’re pregnant.”

She nodded, her eyes growing suspiciously bright. “Larry doesn’t even know yet. I

wasn’t going to tell him until after you and I got a test and confirmed it. Oh, Lissa…” She
put her arms around me again and this time I was giving the comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” I said over and over again. “I wish none of this were true, Viv. I wish

things could just go back to the way they were before all this started. But I swear I’ll get
you out of here—I swear it!”

Our tearful embrace was interrupted by a brief flurry of rapping on the bathroom

door.

“Time to come out,” someone said and I recognized the voice of Marko, Stephan’s

right hand man or wolf, as it were.

“Coming,” I said and Viv and I used the hideous pink hand towels to blot our eyes.

Still holding hands like frightened children, we opened the door and I heard raised voices
coming from the other room.

“Stephan needs you,” Marko said briefly.
“What…” I started to ask, but he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from

Viv, down the plush pink-carpeted hallway and into the center of the action.

Chapter 29

“How can you have a mate who is not even Rom?” Viollca’s heavily accented voice

announced her presence before she came into view. “What do we want with a Gadje
imposter?” She spat the word like a curse.

“It’s you who are the imposter, Viollca.” Stephan stared at her angrily, large hands

bunched into fists at his sides. They were circling each other in the middle of the large
room and all the other people had drawn back from the conflict, lining the walls and
watching. It was hard to read the look in their eyes—some looked blank, as though they
were watching a dull television show but others—the ones wearing silver—looked almost
hopeful.

Marko pushed me forward to stand behind Stephan and I stood there feeling

conspicuous, wondering what I was supposed to do. To one side I could see Viv watching
with wide eyes. Crossing my arms over my chest uncomfortably, I watched the words fly
between Viollca and Stephan.

“Alissa may look Gadje but she has true Rom blood—Vyusher blood,” he said,

gesturing at me. “Which is more than can be said of you. I know perfectly well my father
never gave you either the marking or the mating bite—you’re no true wolf. You’re just a
money hungry chovihani.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, and then she changed tactics suddenly. Stepping

a lot closer than I would have dared considering his obvious rage, she ran one bright-red
fingernail up and down his broad chest. “But maybe I was simply waiting for the right
wolf to bite me. Why do you not join me, Stephan? We will rule the Vyusher together.”

I felt that sharp stab of jealousy again but before I could step in, Stephan knocked her

hand away and a grimace of disgust passed over his dark face. “O chavorro na biandola
dandencar,” he growled. “I’d sooner sleep with a snake.”

Her face hardened and she tossed her long black hair over one shoulder. “Very well,

you have had your chance,” she spat. “Te merav, may I die before I offer it again.”

“May I die before I accept it,” Stephan’s ocean-water eyes had turned dark and

stormy. “The only chance I want is to see you dead. You killed my father and the pack’s
Taibhsear, so she couldn’t heal those you infected with your lies and madness.” His voice
had gone low and dangerously soft.

Viollca sniffed. “They were weak and your father was a broken man after his wife

died.” Her green eyes flashed. “Even though he never really loved her.”

“My father was under a blood-curse,” Stephan said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“A curse you took advantage of.”

“Indeed I did.” She crossed her arms and smirked, tapping her long red nails in

obvious amusement. “Look around you, wolfling. This little chovihani, has control of
your whole pack and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“There is,” he said calmly, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring down at

her. “I offer the challenge of murave—death, Viollca. Tomorrow night I will face any
champion you choose and fight to the death for leadership of the pack.”

“Oh, Stephan.” She laughed and the sound seemed to fill the room like cold silver

bells. I shivered and saw Viv doing the same—the temperature in the room had just

plummeted. “Do you really think you can win?” Viollca continued. “Just because you
have your little Gadje whore by your side?” She reached up and ran one fingertip lightly
over the white scar that marred the side of his face. “Did you learn nothing at all while I
held you captive?”

I saw the scars begin to glow at her touch and I heard Stephan’s hoarse exclamation

as he stepped back. Marko was suddenly beside me, urging me forward with one large
hand at the small of my back.

“Help him,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Help him now—he needs your

strength.”

I looked at him and back at the scene in front of me, uncomprehending. What was he

asking me to do? How could I possibly help?

Stephan seemed to be pressing against some kind of invisible wall, his scars now

glowing bright white in the dimly lit room. Viollca stood in front of him, a look of distain
on her perfect features and I saw she was mumbling something under her breath. Stephan
had a look of fierce concentration on his face—obviously he was trying to get to her but
he couldn’t. It was as though there was some kind of barrier between them.

Stephan glanced at me briefly and I felt the oddest sensation—as though someone

was tugging at a string tied to my heart, not to hurt me, but to get my attention. I stepped
toward him and felt it again, but weaker this time. It was like an incomplete connection
somehow—like an electrical current that wouldn’t quite flow.

Viollca laughed loudly at Stephan’s useless struggles and I felt more than ever that I

was supposed to be doing something. That there was something he needed from me he
wasn’t getting. What was the tugging sensation I kept feeling?

“Very well, Stephan,” she said at last. “I accept your challenge. Murave it shall be at

the pack hunting grounds tomorrow night. It will be a pleasure to kill both you and your
little Gadje whore.”

“You’ll pay for those words, Viollca,” Stephan growled. He straightened up, no

longer trying to get to her since it was obviously useless. Out of the corner of my eye, I
saw Marko giving me a strange look. Probably wondering why I hadn’t “helped” but
what was I supposed to do?

“And I suppose you are the one to make me pay?” She laughed again, a sound that

could chip ice.

Stephan frowned. “Come, Alissa, we’re going. And bring your friend.”
I beckoned for Viv who started to come toward me but then stopped suddenly. It was

as though she had run into an invisible wall. She tried to go to the side with the same
result.

“Viv?” I felt panic begin to build in my throat.
“Lissa? I can’t…” Even her voice sounded muffled. She frowned and placed her

hands out in front, feeling mime-like for the dimensions of her prison. Again, I heard
Viollca’s evil laugh.

“No, my dear. I think I will keep your little friend for the time being as insurance.

When you come to the hunting grounds tomorrow night, you can have her then.”

Stephan turned on her angrily. “You are bound by the oath of N’ery, Viollca. You

cannot do this.”

She smirked at him, the hateful expression twisting her lovely features. “Oh, but I

can. I can hold her for as long as I deem necessary—long enough to be sure you show for
the challenge tomorrow night.”

“I’m a man of my word. I swore I would show and I will,” Stephan snarled.
“Of course you will,” Viollca sneered. “And your Gadje’s little friend will be

perfectly safe here with me until you do.”

“If you hurt her…” I stepped forward, feeling the rage bubbling in my veins and

crackling down my nerves.

Viollca laughed at me, obviously amused by my anger. “Do not worry, my sweet.

Your friend will be perfectly safe until tomorrow night—I give you my word.”

I looked at Stephan. “Can her word be trusted?”
He nodded grudgingly. “She cannot break an oath she has sworn to a living person.”
Viollca laughed again. “A living person, very true. But once you and your little

Gadje are dead, no oath will bind me then.” She looked at me, her poison green eyes
narrowed to slits. “Perhaps your friend and her unborn child will join you in death.”

I shook off Stephan’s restraining hand on my arm and stepped toward her. “If you so

much as touch one hair on her head I’ll kill you. I swear I will.” And in that moment I felt
perfectly capable of doing it.

Viollca looked terribly amused. “And how do you plan to do that, my sweet little

Gadje? You have no more power than you did before your change. As weak as water,”
she spat. “Do not forget I am, as Stephan called me, a witch. I can feel the currents of
magic as they flow and I felt none flowing from you. When he tried to draw from you
just now, you gave him nothing. If you can do no better than that, you might as well lie
down before me and choose the method of your death this instant.”

I felt my mouth drop open as her words sank in. So this was what Marko and

Marishka had meant when they spoke of Stephan needing my “help”. This was what that
tugging at my heart was and the feeling of an incomplete connection. Apparently, I was
supposed to act as some kind of power source for him during magical encounters. But
why had he not told me?

Looking around, I saw that hope had turned to dust and ashes on the faces of

Stephan’s people. Marishka’s large eyes were bright with unshed tears and Marko
couldn’t even look at me. Only Stephan still met my eyes with love and respect.

“Come,” he said gently, pulling me away from Viollca and her hateful, smirking

grin.

“Get a good night’s sleep, little Gadje,” she called in her ice-pick voice. “It is the last

you will ever have. Maybe, if you are lucky I’ll be feeling generous and your death will
be swift. I cannot promise as much for your friend, though.”

My eyes met Viv’s and she tried to smile at me bravely, but a tear rolling down her

freckled cheek gave her away. She had one hand cupped protectively over her still-flat
belly. I saw Marishka step close and put an arm around her shoulders and nod at me, as
though to say she’d protect my friend as much as she could. I nodded back.

“Hang in there, Viv. I swear I’ll get you out of here if it’s the last thing I do,” I said.

But it sounded like an empty promise, even to me. Viollca laughed but I ignored her.

“Don’t … don’t tell Larry,” Viv said, her voice trembling. We were only separated

by about eight feet, but it might as well have been eight hundred miles. I wanted in the

worst way to go to her and hug her again but I knew the invisible barrier would be
between us, keeping us apart.

“Come,” Stephan said to me again. He turned to Viv as well. “Te merel muro dad,

muri, dei. I swear on my father’s grave that I will free you or die trying.” His eyes swept
the room and I knew he was talking to the rest of the pack as well, not just Viv. Far down
in Marishka’s eyes, I thought I saw a small spark of hope trying to rekindle.

Stephan took my arm again and steered me to the front door. I kept eye contact with

Viv for as long as I could, wondering why my vision was suddenly blurry again, until I
realized my cheeks were wet with tears.

Chapter 30

We drove home in silence. I felt the moon’s pull on me, but we’d been at the

mansion a relatively short amount of time and it hadn’t been in the sky very long. My
thoughts were more occupied with the disastrous confrontation between Viollca and
Stephan.

I felt I had acted like the worst kind of fool. Standing there like an idiot instead of

helping him. But how was I supposed help him? Viollca’s words rang in my head, ‘You
have no more power than you did before your change,’ she had said. And she had spoken
of “currents of magic” as well.

Suddenly I began to understand. The change—the full and complete change must be

the answer. Stephan trying to pull power from me while I was incompletely changed was
like trying to pull current from a DC socket with an AC adaptor—it simply couldn’t be
done. But why hadn’t he told me?

For whatever reason, I knew the consequences if things continued as they were now.

He would go up against Viollca again tomorrow night and he would fail just as badly.
And in this case, failure meant death, both for Stephan and myself and for Viv and her
unborn baby. There was no way for him to overcome her magic without my help—my
energy, I guess I should say. It sounded strange to think something like that, especially
since I hadn’t even believed in anything like magic a week ago. Of course, I hadn’t
believed in werewolves either and here I was becoming one.

Changed, I had to be completely changed in order to help Stephan defeat Viollca and

regain his pack. Remembering the tears in Viv’s eyes, I knew it wasn’t my only reason,
or even my main reason. I had to save my friend. If that meant getting furry every full
moon and asking for my steak done rare for the rest of my life, well, I would just have to
handle it. There was just nothing else I could do.

I waited until we were back in my condo to say anything. I didn’t want to confront

Stephan in front of his wolves and besides, it took the entire forty minute drive home to
get up the courage for what I had to do.

The minute we were safely back inside with the door locked behind us and the

drapes drawn tight against the persistent moonlight, I knew it was time. Stephan was
sitting on the bed, his broad shoulders slumped with weariness and dejection. I paced
nervously before him, still in the slinky black dress although I had taken off the sling-
back heels that went with it. Finally, knowing I was never going to work up to it
gracefully, I just blurted it out.

“You have to bite me, Stephan. You have to change me completely.”
“What?” His head jerked up as though yanked with a string. “What are you saying? I

thought that was the one thing you wished to avoid at all costs.” His brow furrowed, as
though he was trying to figure me out.

Instead of answering his question, I threw one back at him. “Why didn’t you tell

me?” I demanded. “That you need me—my energy or whatever—to defeat Viollca? Why
didn’t you tell me I had to be completely changed for you to win? You only talked about
it in terms of my safety. You lied to me.”

Stephan closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “I didn’t lie to you, except by omission,

Alissa. As for the reason I only talked about your safety, well, I guess that’s because I
only thought about your safety. I knew it might be difficult or impossible for us to share
energy through an imperfect bond but my main concern was the damage an uncompleted
change could do to you.” He stood and came to me, blue-green eyes softening somewhat.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, Te’sorthene, but I care for you. Very
much.”

Stephan took me by the shoulders and tried to pull me close but I sidestepped him

and the current of need and longing he seemed to carry with him. I didn’t need lust
clouding my mind right now.

“So it’s true—you do need my energy to defeat Viollca. For you to be able to tap

into my current, or however you want to put it, I have to be changed. Completely.” I
crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for his answer.

Stephan nodded wearily and sank back down on the bed. “Yes, that’s true.”
“All right,” I said, feeling as if my nerves were strung tight as wires. “So go ahead

and do it. Bite me. Change me.” I stalked over and stood between his legs, glaring at
him—daring him to take me up on the offer. Being this close to him, I could feel the need
and longing to touch him begin to fill me like water fills a glass, but I tried to hold it
back. I wanted to be clear headed—to go into this with no illusions whatsoever at all.

“Do it now,” I insisted, when Stephan didn’t answer me. “No preliminaries. Just get

it over with.”

He frowned. “Get it over with? Do you have any idea what you are asking me to do?

You know what’s involved in the mating bite—I told you earlier.”

“I… I don’t care,” I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling. Feeling like I

might lose my nerve if I didn’t hurry, I started to strip off the silky black dress in quick,
jerky motions.

“Stop.” Stephan put a hand on my bare shoulder while I was still only halfway out of

the dress. “Alissa,” he said softly. “I don’t want to do it this way.”

“I don’t care how you do it,” I said through numb lips. “Just do it—just get it done.”

I started jerking at the dress again, peeling it down and stepping out of it so that I was
standing in front of him in only my panties. I felt my nipples begin to harden from fear in
the chilly air of the bedroom.

“First, I want to know why.” Stephan stopped me again, his eyes dark and serious.

“Why the sudden urge to complete a process that was so repugnant to you just a few
hours ago?”

“Why do you think?” I asked impatiently, fighting the urge to cross my arms over

my breasts and hide myself from him. “To save Viv. I swore I’d get her out of there and
if the only way to do it is to let you … let you bite me, change me, then I’ll do it. I’ll do
anything I have to—anything it takes. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said and I thought I saw a flicker of sadness pass over his dark face. “Yes,

I see. Your loyalty to your friend is admirable, Alissa. I guess I was just hoping that there
might be other reasons that motivated you. Maybe a wish to join your life to mine, to
complete the bond between us.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” I knew I was being rude and hurtful but my emotions

were so keyed up I couldn’t seem to make myself stop.

Stephan closed his eyes as though I had hit him. “So you would do this even though

you don’t want to—though the very idea makes you sick, simply to save your friend.” He
opened his eyes and looked at me seriously. “I can only hope to inspire such loyalty and
love someday. Truly, your courage is beyond reproach.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I demanded, pressing closer to him. “Go on, bite

me, fuck me—do what you have to do.”

Stephan recoiled from my blunt language as though from a slap in the face. He

looked away briefly and when he looked back, his ocean-water eyes had gone a deep
gold. It took every shred of courage I possessed to stand my ground and not step away
from those glowing eyes and the look on his dark face.

“Alissa,” he said, his voice deepening to a growl. “You’re asking me to rape you—is

that really what you want?”

“I… I…” I couldn’t seem to form any coherent words. My mind was racing but

nothing came out of my mouth. My courage broke and I would have tried to get away
from him but he already had me trapped, holding me by my upper arms and pulling me
close.

“Please, I didn’t … didn’t exactly mean it like that,” I gasped at last, as he began to

nuzzle my neck. His teeth felt very sharp against the tender skin of my vulnerable throat.

“I know what you meant,” he said in that same, deep, growling tone. “But I won’t

take you before you’re ready.” He shifted his attention to my breasts and I gasped at the
feel of his hot mouth on one of my nipples and then the other one. Despite my intention
to keep this encounter quick and impersonal, I felt myself melting under his touch as he
sucked and licked my breasts in torturously slow, hot circles.

“Stephan, please,” I groaned. “You don’t have to…”
“Don’t have to what? Get you ready? Make sure your soft little pussy is wet enough

to take my cock inside?” he growled.

It was my turn to be shocked by his language. But the blunt words didn’t make me

want to recoil. Instead, they sent a shiver of desire twisting through my quivering belly.
No one but he had ever said such things to me—or done such things for that matter.

“Please,” I gasped again, uncertain what I was begging for. Stephan was cupping my

sex, his large hand warm over the thin silk panties that covered my mound.

“Have to make sure,” he said, pulling me even closer. “Take off your panties, Alissa.

Take off your panties and spread your legs.”

I found myself helpless to disobey his tone of command or the heated lust curling

through my own belly. Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, I pushed
the wispy little scrap of black silk down and stood naked before him, trembling.

“Now spread your legs,” he repeated.
“I… I don’t…” I stuttered. It was one step too far. I felt so nervous standing there

nude in front of him while he was still dressed in his tux—wearing all of it but the jacket.
I knew what he wanted me to do and why he wanted me to do it but I felt so edgy, so
shaky, that I just couldn’t make my thighs part. They felt locked together, as though I had
on some kind of mental chastity belt that extended to my body as well.

“Alissa…” Stephan’s voice softened and he released me for a moment and stood to

remove the white dress shirt he was wearing. “Come here,” he said, pulling me close so
my breasts were rubbing against the broad plains of his chest. I wrapped my arms around

him and breathed in the spicy scent of his musk. The heat of his big body warmed and
comforted me. Before I knew it, he was sitting on the bed again with me on his lap.

“I’m scared,” I whispered at last, into his neck as he held me close. “About … all of

it.” I didn’t just mean I was scared of taking the mating bite from him and completing the
change. I was also scared of losing my virginity, of making love and giving myself to a
man completely for the first time.

“I know,” he murmured back. Somehow, I thought he did know—about everything.

His large hands petted along my back in long soothing strokes, warming me and calming
me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, uncertain of what I was apologizing for.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m the one who should apologize for scaring you. I was angry.

I shouldn’t have been so blunt.”

“No…” I pulled back from him and looked into the golden eyes, so alien and so

knowing at the same time. “No,” I repeated. “Your words … what you said, I … I liked
it,” I confessed, feeling a shiver of desire run though me at the shameful admission. “It
was just following through with them that made me nervous and afraid.”

Stephan looked every so slightly amused. “So you like it when I talk dirty to you?”
Hanging my head, I nodded. It wasn’t something I’d ever expected to have to admit

to anyone. I felt ashamed somehow, as though I shouldn’t let him know what I wanted—
what I needed. Probably it was my repressive upbringing. Grandmother believed that any
kind of sex or sex talk was unutterably nasty and had once rinsed my mouth out with
soap for a solid hour when I innocently asked her the meaning of a four-letter word I had
heard at school. Such words, the words Stephan was using now, were forbidden and
therefore that much more heated and sexual.

“Alissa,” he murmured into my ear. “Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me

to spread open your sweet little pussy and put my hard cock inside you?” He shifted me
on his lap until I could feel it rubbing against me, hot and thick through the black dress
pants he still wore.

“Oh, God…” I pressed my flaming cheeks against his neck, feeling the hot sexual

rush envelope my entire body. He knew what those words were doing to me—he knew
because I had let him know.

“Answer me.” Stephan’s voice was low and calm but also commanding. It was a

voice I couldn’t disobey.

“Yes,” I whispered, and then, pulling back so I could look into his eyes I said, “Yes

… yes, I want that.” I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting nervously now I had admitted
what he wanted me to. That I wanted him inside my body, making love to me—fucking
me.

“That’s good,” he murmured softly. Then, raising my chin until our eyes met once

more, he continued. “Are you ready to spread your legs for me now and let me see how
wet you are?”

I couldn’t answer, I could only act. Still looking into his eyes because he refused to

let me look away, I did as he commanded and spread my legs. A little gasp escaped me as
I felt his blunt fingers part the lips of my sex and begin to stroke gently over my honeyed
folds.

“That’s right,” Stephan said, one fingertip gliding along the side of my sensitive clit

while he looked at me. “That’s right, tell me how it feels when I touch you like this. Tell

me how it feels when I put my fingers inside your tight wet slit.” He suited actions to
words, slipping two long fingers inside me, as deeply as he could without breaching my
barrier.

“Oh, God…” I arched my back, wanting more of him in me. Wanting him deeper. “It

feels … it feels so good,” I gasped. My breath was coming in short little pants now as he
continued to press his fingers into me.

“That’s good, Alissa,” he growled gently. “Very good because this is where I’m

going to put my cock. I’m going to spread your legs and open your sweet little pussy with
my long thick shaft. Is that what you want?”

“Y … yes,” I moaned, knowing it was true. “Yes please do it … please fuck me.”

This time I meant it when I said it and Stephan seemed to know it.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to fuck you,” he growled in

my ear. “I’m going to fuck you until I fill your sweet pussy full of my cum. Understand,
Alissa?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, feeling his thick fingers thrusting in and out

of my hot wet sex where his cock would be soon. At that moment all my high-minded
ideals were gone, burned to ashes in a need so overwhelming I thought I might drown in
it. All I wanted was to have him inside me, owning me, possessing me completely.
Making me his.

Then Stephan was laying me gently on the bed while he shed the rest of his clothes. I

felt lost when he left me, but he was back in only a second or two, covering my trembling
body with his own larger, warmer frame.

“All right, Alissa. It’s all right, now,” he soothed me, stroking my body with his

large, warm hands. I arched up to get more of his touch, like a cat begging to be stroked.
Maybe it was the blood-bond between us, but every second that passed I needed him
more. I thought I might go crazy with the need if he didn’t take me soon.

“Please,” I managed to gasp, pressing up to meet his hands and mouth. “Please,

Stephan, I need you. Need you so bad…”

“Hush, Te’sorthene,’ he whispered softly. “I understand your need but this is your

first time. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me,” I said, knowing it to be true. “Please, Stephan. Please, I

need you in me.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned softly. “I need to be inside you, Alissa, as much as you need

me there. But I don’t want to rush things. I want to make your first time good.”

“It will be good,” I told him breathlessly. “As long as it’s with you, it’ll be good. But

please, Stephan…”

“All right,” he murmured. I felt him spread my legs and then the wide, blunt head of

his cock was nudging between my thighs, parting the lips of my sex and rubbing over my
swollen clit in long, slow, maddening strokes.

“What … what are you doing?” I gasped, arching my back for more. Couldn’t he see

how much I needed him? Why was he taking so long?

“Making sure you’re wet enough,” he rumbled. “Listen, Alissa, later I’ll let you pick

how you want to do this. But this first time I need to be on top of you. That’s the way I
can get into you the deepest and I need to be deep inside you tonight when I fill you with
my cum. That’s the way it has to be to make this work, all right?”

“Yes,” I whispered, understanding completely. He wanted to be on top of me, to

open me and own me and fill me completely and I wanted it too. I wanted to submit to
him, to lie helpless beneath him, spread out and open for his thick cock as he fucked up
into me and claimed me once and for all as his own.

“I’ll try to be gentle at first,” he said, and I felt the thick mushroom-shaped head

lodge at the entrance to my body and begin to press inwards. “But once I’m inside you,
all the way into your tight, wet pussy, I might get a little bit rough.” His deep voice
vibrated through me as the head of his cock breached my virginal entrance and began to
enter me. “It’s the Vyusher way,” he continued in his low, growling voice, pushing
another thick inch of his cock into my wet, quivering entrance. “To fuck hard, to claim
when we mate.”

“Yes,” I gasped, spreading my legs wider—trying to be open enough to take him, all

of him, inside me. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he rasped, sliding deeper into me. I could feel him pressing against my

barrier now—just a breath away from taking my virginity. “Good because I don’t want to
hurt you, but I need to claim you—need to make you mine. Right…now.” He thrust hard
on the last word and I gasped as I felt the entire thick length of him enter me, breaching
my barrier and taking the last vestige of my innocence.

I was glad he hadn’t warned me ahead of time because I might have tensed up and

made it harder. As it was, I still felt a sharp shooting pain go through me and I couldn’t
help the sudden stinging tears that came to my eyes.

“Alissa?” Stephan was still within me, filling me with his cock, the broad head

nudging against the mouth of my womb, but not moving a bit. “Are you all right?” he
asked, concern filling his golden eyes.

I nodded wordlessly, and then, understanding he needed more than a gesture, I

managed to make myself say it out loud. “I … I’m okay. It only hurt for a minute.”

“Are your ready for me to go on?” He made a small, subtle movement, pulling his

thickness out only an inch or two before pressing back into me.

I gasped, feeling the return of that overwhelming need as it threatened to drown me

if I didn’t have what he was promising soon. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes … please…”

“Good,” Stephan whispered. “Because I need to claim you now. Need to make you

mine completely.” He drew back even farther, almost all the way out of my slippery sex,
and then thrust in again, much harder this time.

I gasped, but it was a gasp of pleasure, not pain, as sensations I had never known

possible rocketed through my body for the first time. Stephan did it again and again and I
closed my eyes and bit my lip, just trying to deal with the overwhelming pleasure he was
subjecting me to.

“No, Alissa, open your eyes.” His commanding tone could not be disobeyed and I

opened my eyes to see him looking at me, an expression of fierce concentration and
tenderness on his dark face. “I want to watch you,” he said, still thrusting into me. “I
want to look in your eyes when I fill your sweet pussy with my cum.”

It was hard but I kept my eyes open. Falling into those golden depths as he worked

me hard, pressing deep to get even further inside me. I felt a primal pleasure building
somewhere inside me—a wave so strong it threatened to crush me with its intensity and
yet I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel it cover me—to drown in the need he was

building so sweetly inside me with the delicious, hard thrusts of his cock into my open,
defenseless body as he fucked me relentlessly toward orgasm.

“Are you close, Alissa? Are you close to coming for me?”
I had been teetering on the edge and Stephan’s low growl in my ear was all it took to

trigger my orgasm at last.

“Yes…Oh, God, yes,” I cried, arching my body to meet his thrusts, raising my pelvis

to get more of him inside me. “Yes, coming…Oh, God, Stephan, I’m there. I’m
coming…”

“Te’sorthene,” he groaned. “You’re so beautiful when you come. So beautiful when

I claim you.” He buried his face in my neck and I felt his teeth again, terribly sharp
against the side of my throat. I knew what it meant but I didn’t care anymore.

Gasping, I arched my neck to give him better access, baring my throat for his teeth,

for the mating bite that would bind us together for all time and make me his utterly and
completely forever.

I felt Stephan’s teeth close on my throat as his cock erupted inside me. There was a

warm wet pulsing deep in my sex and a hot, stinging pain on the side of my neck at the
same time. The two sensations seemed to join as one, combining to overwhelm my senses
with another wave of pleasure so intense it made my first orgasm look like a ripple in a
pond.

I screamed then—I couldn’t help it. The sensation was too much—far too much for

my system to handle. Maybe it was the fact that I was, as Stephan put it, thrice bitten
instead of twice bitten, the fact that I now had a triple dose of his Vyusher essence in my
bloodstream. But for whatever the reason, when I felt the rush of pleasure, it was the
feeling of a circuit being completed somehow, of an electrical current that had been
blocked finally beginning to flow. It was too much for me.

I felt myself being sucked under the tidal wave of sensation and the last thing I

remembered was Stephan’s golden glowing eyes as he filled me with himself and
claimed me for his mate, fulfilling the blood-bond and breaking the blood-curse forever
at the same time.

Chapter 31

“Alissa? Are you all right?”
I opened my eyes to see Stephan hovering over me looking concerned. His eyes had

gone back to their normal tropical green-blue and he was cradling me in his arms.

“I… I’m fine,” I said, trying to sit up. He wouldn’t let me.
“Just lay there for a minute. You kind of blacked out—had me scared.” He looked

relieved that I was conscious and coherent but apparently he still wasn’t taking any
chances.

I put a hand to my head. “I feel dizzy.” It wasn’t exactly the sensation I was trying to

describe. “No,” I shook my head. “I feel different. Strange. I can’t explain it.”

“Side effects of the change,” Stephan said, no longer looking so worried. “You’ll

feel a little disoriented at first, until the first time you run with the moon.”

“Run … run with the moon? You mean, change into a wolf,” I said, in what I hoped

was a steady voice.

Stephan nodded. “Yes. After you let your second nature out for a while, it will be

more at ease with your first nature. The human and the wolf make friends, is the way we
explain it to our children.”

“Oh,” I said through numb lips. I struggled again to sit up and this time he let me. I

had absolutely no wish to make friends with the wolf side of me but now didn’t seem to
be the right time to say it. After all, I had asked him to make me what I was—I had asked
for Viv’s sake—I had to remember that.

“Are you all right?” he asked again, concern once more in his tone.
I nodded. “Yes. So, now I can help you tomorrow night? I looked around at the

darkened bedroom. “It is still tomorrow night we’ll be going, right? I mean, I didn’t sleep
around the clock or anything, did I?”

He smiled. “No—you were only out for a few minutes. Just long enough to have me

really scared.”

My eyes had adjusted to the darkness—much better than they ever had before

actually—and I found I could see him perfectly well despite the fact that the only light in
the room was coming from a small crack under the floor. He was still naked and so was I,
although someone had removed all my silver jewelry, except for my mother’s earrings.

“You don’t need them now,” Stephan said, watching as I felt for my bracelets.

“You’ll be much more in control of yourself now that you’ve completed the change. The
only night we must change is the night of the full moon, and that will be tomorrow.”

“So I’ll… I’ll change tomorrow night whether I want to or not?” I faltered, snagging

a small throw from the end of the bed to cover myself. Just the thought of my skin
splitting to reveal lush red fur filled me with fear. I thought I could feel something else
moving inside me, under my skin. Something new that was longing for freedom and the
soft caress of moonlight on its fur. It was an unsettling feeling to say the least.

“Actually, I think it would be better for you not to change tomorrow night.”

Stephan’s low voice was thoughtful. I looked up and wished I hadn’t. Seeing him
completely nude still made me blush, despite what we had just done together.

“I thought you said I couldn’t avoid it.” I looked down at my hands and wondered

how big my paws would be when I grew them.

“You won’t in the future but for tomorrow night, because you haven’t had your first

change yet, you should be able to hold it off with my help. We’re connected now—
essentially, I’ll change for both of us.”

“You can do that?” I asked, feeling a small measure of relief. At least I could put off

my hideous transformation for one more month—it wasn’t much but it was definitely
better than nothing.

Stephan nodded. “Yes—just this first time though. Eventually you’ll have to make

peace with your second nature, Alissa.”

“I know,” I said. “I guess…”
“Come back to bed.” He beckoned me, his voice low and coaxing.
I went to him hesitantly, uncertain of what he wanted. “I’m wide awake now,” I said,

irrelevantly.

“You don’t have to be sleepy for what I want to do,” he said grinning. He pulled me

back under the covers beside him and fit my body into the curve of his larger, longer
frame.

“Stephan…” I started to protest, but he silenced me with a kiss. Once more I felt the

attraction between us, but this time much deeper than it had been before my change. It
wasn’t as I had feared, that my body would want him while my mind didn’t—it was more
like all of me was on the same page now. I wanted him completely, mind, body and
spirit. I couldn’t help it.

He broke the kiss and looked down at me, his eyes their normal color, for now at

least. “Alissa,” he said softly. “Let me make love to you again. The last time I was
urgent—maybe too rough because of the mating bite. This time let’s take our time. I want
to touch you all over—I want to take it gentle and slow. Will you let me?”

I didn’t answer in words. Instead, I pulled him down to me again for another sweet,

drowning deep kiss. He tasted like peppermint, copper and musk. My scent was all over
him the same way his was all over me. I had never noticed things like that before but my
senses were sharper now—I could hear his heartbeat, I could feel his need with every soft
caress of his hands over my body.

It made me feel cherished—cherished and loved even though I knew it was silly to

think we could feel such deep emotion for each other when I had barely known him forty-
eight hours. And yet, somehow, when he held me and touched me and took me, so gently
this time, I felt like I had known him all my life. When he brought me to orgasm and let
my own climax trigger his own, he whispered words of love and fidelity that were
sweeter than anything I had ever heard in my ear as he filled me with his seed.

Afterwards, I lay in the dark listening to his deep, even breathing, and let the tears

come. I was different now—from this night on I would always be different. Set apart. Not
human. Weird. Other. Alien. I let the words fill my head and even the beautiful
lovemaking we had just shared or the knowledge I had done what I had to do to save Viv
couldn’t stop the sobs from shaking me.

I got up and went into the bathroom, wanting to have my cry without disturbing

Stephan. I had almost gotten myself under control when I looked into the mirror. My hair
was the same curly red mass it had been for the past few days but my eyes had changed

yet again. They were glowing a luminous pale green and there was nothing human about
them—nothing at all.

I lost it then. Bunching my hand into a fist, I struck out at the mirror, feeling the cool

slice of glass through my knuckles as it shattered into a bright spider web pattern of
cracks and fell tinkling into the porcelain sink below.

Stephan was beside me in a heartbeat. Obviously, he hadn’t been sleeping as deeply

as I thought. “Alissa?” he asked, worried. Then he saw the mirror and my hand. “Here,”
he said, taking me gently by the wrist and turning on the cold water faucet.

“I … I saw my eyes,” I said, feeling stupid because I couldn’t stop crying. “Why …

Stephan, will they be like that forever?”

He shook his head. “No, you’ll learn to control them in time. It’s harder to keep them

looking human when you’re having strong emotions, that’s all.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say and nothing seemed to be needed,

anyway. Stephen was already wrapping my wounded hand in a small towel and gathering
me into his arms again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and again, I saw that look of pain and sorrow on his dark face.

“Sorry this is so hard on you, Alissa. I’ve always lived with it so I guess I thought…” He
shook his head. “You’ll get used to it in time … I hope.”

“Sure, I’ll get used to it.” I choked back a laugh that was more than half sob. “I’ll get

used to it. After all, what’s a little fur between friends—right?”

He gave me a searching look and then shook his head. “Come on, let's go back to

bed,” he murmured. “We have a long day and an even longer night tomorrow. You’ll
need your strength if you’re to heal that injury and we’re going to get the pack and your
friend away from Viollca.”

“Can we win?” I asked, feeling the rush of emotion leave as suddenly as it had come.

I just felt tired and cold.

“Yes,” he assured me, carrying me to the bed as though I weighed less than a rag

doll. “With you by my side, we can win, Te’sorthene.”

As long as Viv was all right, this would all be worth it. At least, that was what I tried

to tell myself. But somehow, the thought didn’t comfort me as it should have.

Stephan held me close as I cried myself to sleep.

Chapter 32

Sunday March 19th: The night of the full moon and the vernal equinox.

“Are you sure we’re ready?” I glanced over at Stephan who was already dressed in

another old pair of Larry’s sweatpants and a ragged t-shirt. There was no point in
dressing up tonight, he had explained to me, since clothing was almost always a total loss
after a change. I wondered if he would rip out of what he was wearing Incredible Hulk
style or what.

“We’re as ready as we can be.” He sounded so grim that I turned away from him and

checked my own appearance in the mirror. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes,
the better to run in if things got hairy—ha-ha. The shoes had been Stephan’s idea and I
agreed with him. If everything went to hell, there was no way I wanted to try running in
the impractical sling-back pumps I’d been wearing the night before. So even though I
wasn’t changing form that night, I was dressed for comfort, not looks.

I was also wearing the antique silver earrings just in case. Stephan had told me that

until I changed for the first time, my control would still be imperfect, and he didn’t want
to take any chances. He had warned that under no circumstances should I take them out—
it was important for me to remain human tonight for my own safety. The general rule of
the pack was that only other wolves were fair game if a fight broke out. Those who chose
to remain in human form were exempt from the conflict.

“Try it again,” I said, turning to him. “Just one more time.” I meant that he should try

drawing energy from me once more—a process we had spent most of the day practicing.

Stephan frowned. “No, I don’t want to wear you out. You’ll need your strength for

tonight. How’s your hand?”

I flexed the hand I had injured punching the mirror the night before experimentally

and nodded. “It’s good … almost healed.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He gave me a little smile.
“Is it part of being, uh, totally changed?” I asked, looking down at my knuckles

where only faint pinkish lines had replaced the ragged gashes of the night before.

“That’s part of it,” Stephan nodded. “All Vyusher have greater than normal healing

abilities. Part of it is just you.”

I looked up from my nearly healed hand. “Marishka seemed to think that…”
“Marishka?” he interrupted me sharply. “When did you speak to her?”
“Oh, my God.” I put a hand over my mouth. “With everything that’s been

happening, I almost forgot.” I told him what Marko’s mate had told me and explained
about the silver so many of the pack had been wearing the night before.

Stephan’s face darkened. “I thought I saw a lot of silver but I never dreamed…” He

looked at me. “If Marishka is right about this, it could be good news. It means that the
moment I break Viollca’s power, the rest of the pack will be free to join us. How certain
did Marishka seem about this?”

“Very.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Then we…” A knock on the door interrupted him and Marko

stuck his square head in the doorway.

“Everything’s ready. Time to get going.”
Stephan nodded. “All right.”
Marko’s blunt features withdrew as suddenly as they had appeared and Stephan

turned to me. “Marko and I and the other wolves will be riding in the SUV but I want you
to follow in your own car.”

“What? Why?” I looked at him, puzzled. “If we have to leave suddenly, wouldn’t it

be better if we are all together?’

“Alissa,” he said gently. “One way or the other, I won’t be leaving. I gave Viollca

the challenge of death—that’s what murave means in our language.”

“But I thought…” I bit my lip. “I thought that was just a figure of speech. That if

things got really bad we’d run. Isn’t that why you had me dress like this?”

“Yes, I had you wear running shoes in case you have to run. Listen, Te’sorthene,” He

came closer and took me by the shoulders, looking down into my eyes. “If things start to
go wrong you’ll feel it. Here.” He touched my chest lightly. “We’re bonded so you’ll
know if you start to lose me.”

“Lose you?” I asked stupidly, wondering why nothing he said seemed to make sense.
“If Viollca and her wolves get the best of me,” he said quietly. “You’ll know it—

you’ll feel it. And if that happens—if you start to lose me, I want you to take your friend
and get as far away as you can.”

“I won’t leave you,” I said, surprised at my own stubbornness. “I might not

understand all of this, Stephan, and I might like even less of it, but I’m not going to desert
you if things get tough.”

“Alissa, no.” He shook me slightly for emphasis. “Swear to me that if this isn’t a

battle I can win, you’ll run away. Your safety is more important to me than anything.
More important than winning back the pack or defeating Viollca, or avenging my father.
If I die, I want to die knowing you’re safe.”

His words shook me to the core and I looked at him wonderingly. “You’re serious,

aren’t you?” I asked softly.

He nodded. “Completely. So swear it. Please, Alissa—for my peace of mind.”
“I swear,” I said numbly, feeling like a coward. “But … but I don’t understand why.”
“Because I love you,” he said simply. “I know it seems silly to you—we just met a

few days ago. But I’ve been searching for you, longing for you, for so many years.” He
smiled at me. “If I die tonight, it will be as a happy man, or rather, a happy wolf. Because
I finally found you, even if it was only for a little while.”

“Stop talking about dying,” I said, feeling a lump in my throat. “You’re not going to

die—we’re going to win.”

“You’re right.” Stephan pulled me in for a long, luscious kiss and then smiled at me.

“Now that we’re together—truly together, there’s no way Viollca can summon enough
power to defeat us.”

But he was wrong.

Chapter 33

I knew we were in trouble by the smirk on Viollca’s sharply perfect features as she

faced us across the wide circle of boulders. The circle was located in a huge open field
surrounded by pine and scrub forest on three sides and the rutted dirt road we’d taken to
get there on the fourth.

One good thing about Tampa is that while it’s a big city, it doesn’t take long to get

out of it and into the country. We’d headed north, toward Plant City, where they have the
famous Strawberry Festival every February, and found ourselves on the pack hunting
grounds in less than forty-five minutes. The SUV and my own little yellow bug were
parked beyond the trees where the pavement ended and the dirt road began. I estimated it
wasn’t more than a five minute run from the circle of boulders, even though I had
absolutely no intention of running.

Promise or no promise, I was determined to stick by Stephan’s side. I might not like

what had happened to me, but I was no quitter and besides, his words had touched me.
Could he really love me the way he professed to? And was it possible I was beginning to
feel an inkling of the same thing? It was hard to tell what I felt when my stomach was
tied in knots as it was at the moment.

“Well, well, so the mangy mutt and his Gadje whore are here at last.” Viollca’s voice

drilled into my ear, ending my thoughts abruptly. She was standing on a flat-topped
boulder, more than four feet off the ground, and looking down at us as though she was
queen of all she surveyed. In a semi-circle around her were the rest of the pack, most of
them wearing silver and blank looks on their faces. It occurred to me that the magical
silver collars and bracelets weren’t the only thing holding them in check—Viollca had a
powerful hold over most of their minds as well.

“I promised before to make you pay for such words. Don’t make your debt greater,

Viollca.” Stephan stepped forward, a frown on his face. In the moonlight, the perfectly
symmetrical scars she had placed on his face glimmered like well-cleaned bone. I could
feel the faint draw of the moon’s silvery light but as he had promised, I was much more
in control of my body’s urge to change now. The brilliant radiance of the full moon
caused only a little itching in my earlobes, where my mother’s silver earrings were
securely fastened.

“Ah yes, so many debts to pay tonight.” Viollca made a sweeping gesture, making

the hot-pink evening gown she had on flutter in the breeze. Apparently she was dressed
for style, not flight, a detail that didn’t escape me or my knotted stomach. “Let us start
with the promise I made you last night,” she continued and nodded to someone on the
ground below her.

Suddenly, Viv was shoved across the grassy circle. I ran forward and caught her

before she could fall. She didn’t look injured in any way, just frightened and upset, as she
had last night. I gave her a quick hug and dragged her back to our side of the circle
quickly.

“There is your little friend, Gadje, just as I promised.” Viollca smirked at me. “Enjoy

your reunion while you can—you will not live long enough, I think, to celebrate long.”

“Enough, Viollca,” Stephan thundered, stepping forward. “We have a score to settle

and the oath of murave to fight.”

Viollca laughed and with my new heightened senses, the piercing sound made me

want to cover my ears. “Scores you speak of, Stephan. Scores to settle and debts to pay.
Well perhaps I have a score of my own.” Turning her head, she spoke to one of the
wolves who was not wearing silver, but had a cold red glint in his eye—the mark of her
possession, I knew. She said something that sounded like, “Bring him,” and the man
nodded and bounded away.

“What score could you have to settle, Viollca?” Stephan demanded. “My family has

never wronged you as you have wronged us.”

“Oh, no?” Her eyes flashed a venomous green. “You have never wronged me,

Stephan? Is that what you think? What would you call the loss of a most beloved sister to
a pack of filthy curs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stephan said, frowning.
“Don’t you?” Viollca sneered. “Well, perhaps it’s time you found out. You see, my

sister was your mother, little wolfling.”

I saw Stephan’s eyes widen but Viollca gave him no time to get a word in edgewise.
“My younger sister,” she continued, in a high, angry voice. “Stolen from me when

she was but twenty, the age of consent, although no Rom woman in her right mind would
consent to go with one of the Vyusher.” She spat the word as though it was a curse. “She
was stolen from us, from the very safety of our fire, by your father.”

Stephan’s face had hardened. “So it is always with my people. Our women bear only

sons and so we have to choose mates from among the other Rom.”

“Choose?” Viollca howled. “Choose you say? Steal is the word I use, Stephan. She

was dead to my family after your father bit her—a Mulo. Dead to us all after the first full
moon had passed and we had not found her.” She paused and seemed to regain some self
control. “And yet, even this thievery I could forgive if he had truly loved my beloved
little sister.”

“He did the best he could.” Stephan’s deep voice sounded stained and he took

another step forward. “He wanted to love her—it was the curse that kept him from it. The
blood-curse of another chovihani like yourself that kept him from forming the bond he
wanted to with my mother.”

“I am sick to death of hearing about this curse.” Viollca tossed her hair, her eyes

glowing like angry green sparks in the deepening darkness. “It is no excuse. I never lost
touch with her, you know. I traced her through the years and I watched as she turned her
face to the wall and cried each night, dying of sorrow for a love that was never given. She
thought for a while that if she bore him an heir, he might learn to love her then.” She
laughed shrilly.

“But even after she presented him with you, still your father could not find it in his

stone of a heart to show her true affection. When she died of a broken heart, I made up
my mind to seek justice for her. To make your father and all you filthy Vyusher pay for
what you had done to her.”

“You killed my father and enslaved my pack,” Stephan said, his voice low and even.

“And still you thirst for more blood? Viollca, if you truly knew my mother as you claim
to, you’d know she wouldn’t want this.”

“Silence!” she shrieked, her eyes glowing with rage. “You dare to speak of my sister

with your foul wolf’s tongue? Tonight I will silence you forever. Not for money, as you
so wrongly thought, but for vengeance that is long past due. Te bisterdon tumare anava—
may your names be forgotten when I am done with you.”

“Choose your champion, then,” Stephan said. He looked up at the moon. “My

change draws near and I will not fight a woman.”

Her classical features grew sly. Now that I knew her true age, I wondered how she

managed to look so good—more magic, probably.

“As to that, I chose my champion long ago, Stephan. See if you don’t find him to

your liking.” She jerked her head at someone in the crowd around the boulder she was
standing on. “Bring him forward,” she commanded. “Let the wolfling see who my
champion is.”

I was expecting to see Rajko again or one of the other men who had kidnapped Viv

at the airport. Two large men did come out but they were dragging a black metal box on
wheels behind them. The positioned it in the center of the grassy circle and looked at
Viollca for further orders.

“Open it,” she said impatiently. One of them did as she commanded and a huge gray

wolf stumbled out into the clearing. It was as huge as Stephan had been in wolf form, and
I understood that I was looking at no ordinary animal. Around its neck, almost obscured
by the rough gray fur, a thick silver collar worked with intricate designs glimmered in the
moonlight.

The men dragged the wheeled box that had held the wolf, back out of the circle and I

wondered what was going on. I heard a low gasp from my side and tore my eyes away
from the gray wolf long enough to see the look of shock and horror on Stephan’s face.

“No,” he murmured, taking a step toward the wolf. “No… Father…” He looked up at

Viollca, staring down with amusement from her place on the high boulder. “You killed
him. I saw his body.”

“You saw what I wanted you to see,” she sneered. “I thought it best to keep him a

beast—he’s so much more tractable this way.”

“But … it’s been months.” Stephan glared at her, clearly outraged. “The Vyusher

aren’t meant to stay in wolf form so long. The second nature begins to overtake the first.”
He took another careful step toward the gray wolf and it raised its head and growled at
him, its silky muzzle wrinkling back from sharp white teeth.

“I would be careful if I were you, Stephan,” she said coldly. “I doubt there is

anything human left in the old man now and he’s very, very hungry. I’ve seen to that.”

“You…” He looked at her, his eyes a blazing yellow-gold now, his face dark with

rage. Above us the moon was climbing steadily in the sky and I could feel the itching in
my earlobes growing worse. Surely Stephan’s change was near—surely he couldn’t hold
out much longer. The rest of the pack were shifting uneasily and I knew if it hadn’t been
for Viollca’s magic and the silver collars most of them wore, the circle would have been
full of wolves by now.

I felt a sweaty palm in mine and looked down to see that Viv had grabbed my hand. I

grabbed back and squeezed tight as we turned our attention to the tableau playing out
before us.

“You cannot make me fight my own father.” Stephan’s voice was deepening to a

growl.

Viollca’s eyes flashed. “Can’t I? You were the one who swore the oath of murave.

You gave me the choice of champions. You cannot back out now, simply because you do
not care for my choice.”

“I will never…” Stephan began, and then the gray wolf sprang in a blur for his

throat.

Viv and I both shouted out warnings, but before either of us got off more than half a

syllable, Stephan had pushed us back and out of the circle and lunged to the side himself
with that eerie, graceful speed of his. He and the gray wolf circled each other, eyes
locked and muscles tensed. Stephan was talking quietly in a low, earnest voice but
whatever he was saying didn’t appear to be having much effect. The wolf continued to
growl menacingly, its gray hackles raised as it looked for the best way to get past
Stephan’s guard.

Suddenly the itching in my earlobes grew even more intense—almost unbearable—

and I saw Stephan’s body convulse as the change took him. It was bizarre to watch the
process in reverse, to watch his body contort into the low-slung shape of the beast that
lived inside him. The silky black fur poured over his body in waves as he shifted form.
When he was finished, he pointed his scarred black muzzle at the full moon and
howled—a lonely, haunting sound that pierced my soul with its mournful rage.

The gray wolf had been standing well back from Stephan as he changed, it’s hackles

raised and it’s muzzle wrinkled in a silent growl. Now, apparently seeing something it
recognized in his wolf form, it lunged for his throat, bowling him over backwards in a
tangle of limbs and fur.

I saw Stephan right himself and spring forward. He was butting the other wolf with

his shoulder, trying to knock him off his feet and out of commission without biting or
tearing. But the gray wolf wouldn’t have it. He lunged forward, snarling and snapping,
once more going for the throat. Again, Stephan deflected the attack but it was obvious he
wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever. The gray wolf was mindless in its assault, going
for the kill with a single-minded viciousness that took my breath away.

A slow rippling in the ranks of the pack distracted me from the life and death

struggle going on in the grassy circle. Viollca was laughing, a high, shrill cackle like
cracked bells, and all around her people were dropping to their knees, their skin running
with fur of all colors as the change overtook them. They were, I noticed, only the
members of the pack that she had complete control over—Rajko and his men—a
relatively small number. But with the other members that were loyal to Stephan locked in
human form, even a few of the huge wolves would be enough to kill anyone who stood in
Viollca’s way.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Viv murmured beside me, reverting to her Catholic

upbringing at the strange sight of the shape-shifting going on across the circle. Suddenly I
realized how very vulnerable my friend was in this situation. She was the only non-
Vyusher there besides Viollca, which made her utterly defenseless.

“Viv,” I said, turning to face her. “You have to get out of here—now.” I pressed my

car keys into her sweating palm. “Here, the bug’s parked down that dirt road just past the
trees. I want you to take it and get out of here.”

Her reaction was immediate. “No way am I leaving here without you, Lissa.” I knew

she meant it, despite her wide-eyed fright. “Come with me.” She grabbed my arm and

tried to pull me back from the edge of the circle. Around the other side of it, most of
Viollca’s henchmen were completing their change.

“I can’t,” I said and gave an agonized glance at the grassy area where Stephan was

still fighting for his life while trying not to hurt the gray wolf, his father. Viv followed
my gaze and her eyes hardened.

“Look, Lissa, he might be amazing in the sack but you haven’t even known him two

days. None of this has anything to do with you.” She swept out a hand, indicating the
horror-movie weirdness going on all around us. “Sometimes you have to cut your losses,”
she continued. “Like now.”

I thought about what she said—really thought about it. Cut your losses, not your

problem … but she was wrong. Wrong in ways I couldn’t even begin to explain to her. It
was true I hadn’t known Stephan that long, but the bond grown between us in that time
was a stronger emotion than I had ever felt for anyone—even Viv. There was no way I
could leave him here to face his fate without at least trying to help, any more than I could
have let my old supervisor Judith give the wrong medication to patient. It wasn’t that I
loved him necessarily, I told myself. It was just that it wasn’t in my nature to leave
anyone in such a situation.

All this passed through my mind in a split second and then I saw that most of

Viollca’s wolves had completed their change and were beginning to slink past the ring of
boulders that lined the circle. If I didn’t convince Viv to leave without me soon, it would
be too late for her.

“Viv,” I said urgently. “I can’t explain this to you—hell, I can’t even really explain it

to me. But I need you to get out of here now and let me take care of myself for once. You
can’t help me here—all you can do is get yourself killed.”

“Like you can do so much better?” she demanded. But there were tears standing in

her big brown eyes, sparkling in the moonlight, and I could see she knew I was serious
about staying.

“I can,” I said, feeling a growl rise in my throat. I must not change, I reminded

myself urgently. “Look, Viv, if you won’t go for yourself go for Larry. And think about
your baby—Larry doesn’t even know you’re pregnant. You need to tell him, you need to
go have a life with him—not stay here just because I am.”

“Please come with me,” she pleaded one more time.
I glanced around warily. The wolves were stalking around the circle, most of their

attention seemed to be centered on the death match going on between Stephen and his
father but if they directed those sharp yellow and orange eyes at us…Viv had to leave
now or she wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Go!” I nearly shoved her. She stumbled, then righted herself and grabbed me in a

tight embrace. She didn’t say anything but I could feel her tears, hot and salty, wetting
the side of my neck.

“Lissa,” she murmured.
I disengaged gently, despite the urgency I felt to get her moving. “I’ll see you later,”

I said, giving her another little shove in the direction of the cars. “Go on now, tell Larry I
said hi.” It was such a ridiculous thing to say, the kind of thing I might have said as I put
her on the plane back to Tallahassee, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. It
seemed too final somehow.

Viv gave a last little sob and started stumbling in the direction of the cars. I was

relieved she wasn’t running—it might have attracted the attention of Viollca’s wolves. I
saw her get safely to the edge of the trees and turned my attention back to the circle of
grass where Stephan and his father still fought.

Stephan was staggering badly, bleeding from numerous gashes along his neck and

sides, his blood black in the moonlight. The gray wolf seemed to be tiring, but not
enough I thought worriedly. It was still dodging in and out, getting in a bite here and a
snap there. Because Stephan wouldn’t fight back, he was definitely getting the worst of it.

I concentrated on giving him my energy, but I felt no pull from him, no tug at my

heart as I had the night before while he was struggling with Viollca. Could it be he was
refusing to plug into my power, to use the current that could be created between us,
because he was afraid of hurting his father? I wanted to call to him, but I was afraid to
distract him for even a moment from the fight.

“I grow weary of this foolish display.”
Viollca’s voice broke my concentration and I looked up to see her smiling evilly as

she watched Stephan and his father struggle in the circle. “Come, my wolves,” she
continued, talking to the members of the pack she had allowed to change. “Finish them
both.” She pointed to the center of the circle and the low, slinking forms began to
converge there as she directed.

I watched as the eight or ten huge creatures joined the fight, ripping at both Stephan

and the gray wolf in snarling lunges. I wanted to scream with anger but my throat was
locked up with horror and sorrow. Stephan was fighting well, trying to defend both
himself and his father, but he was too tired, and there were too many against him. If
somebody didn’t do something quickly, he was going to be killed—that much was clear.

I saw three other huge wolves join the fight—Marko and the other loyal lieutenants

that had remained with Stephan throughout his ordeal. For a moment my heart leapt up in
my chest—the odds were more even now, at least. But as the snarling, snapping fight
went on, it became clear that it wasn’t going to be enough. If only there a few more
wolves on Stephan’s side. Through the bond we shared, the kal’enedral, as he had called
it, I began to feel him weaken. It was a sinking sensation, like someone had dipped my
heart in quicksand and was dragging me slowly, painfully down.

I looked frantically across the circle to see several of the other pack members were

struggling with the magical silver collars and bracelets to no avail. Marishka was nearly
choking herself trying to get the thick silver collar from around her neck, but she wasn’t
having any luck. Was there no one else that could help?

The fierce burning and itching in my ears reminded me there was one other person

who might be of assistance—me. As Viv would’ve said, “get off your behind and do it
yourself.” Stephan’s words rang in my head, “Under no circumstances are you to change
tonight, Alissa. It’s too dangerous and I don’t want to risk losing you.” But he would
certainly lose me if he died—and I would lose him. Suddenly the thought seemed
unbearable. I had to help him—had to do whatever it took to save him somehow.

I was scrabbling at my earrings, trying to get them out though they were burning my

fingertips like red-hot ball bearings, when Viollca’s laugh assaulted my ears again. I
looked up to see she was still standing above it all on that damn boulder, obviously very
pleased with the results of her actions.

“That’s right—destroy each other!” she screamed in a shrill, cracked voice. I thought

I saw her form flicker for an instant to reveal not the luscious Barbie-type hourglass
figure she always displayed, but the humped back of a crone with beady eyes and a thin,
twisted mouth. Then she was back, but the strange, double image was stamped on my
eyeballs by the bright moonlight pouring down from above.

Viollca, I thought. She’s the key! Why should I throw myself into the foaming,

snarling fray in the middle of the circle where I would almost certainly be torn to bits
before I could even reach Stephan? Why should I, when the answer lay higher. The
answer was standing on that boulder and overseeing the destruction of man I loved and
his entire pack?

I didn’t give myself time to think about my new feelings for Stephan, I was too busy

tearing out the antique silver earrings and remembering Marishka’s words. “Tell Stephan
that many of us are with him. If he can break her power we will rush to his side.” That
was it, I knew, someone had to break her power. Before we had supposed Stephan would
be able to overcome Viollca’s magic by drawing power from me—through our bond.
Even as I thought that, I knew he would never be able to summon the concentration to do
that now. He was fighting for his life—fighting and losing. I could feel that sinking
sensation around my heart growing stronger and more insistent with every second that
passed.

No, I would have to take a more direct method to stop her. I would have to do what

Stephan had begged and commanded me not to do—I would have to change. Finally
getting rid of the earrings, I threw them on the trampled, grassy ground, took a deep
breath, closed my ears to the snarling fight and Viollca’s evil laughter, and opened myself
to the moon.

It was surprisingly easy to let the moon take me. I was braced for some sort of

horrible, ripping pain but it was more of a stretching sensation, as Stephan had described
it to me. There was the feeling of my skin being too tight to fit properly, I felt it split, like
bursting a seam on a pair of too-tight jeans I was trying to cram myself into. The fur
began to flow.

The intensity of the transformation ruined my clothes and I really did split the seams

on the jeans I was wearing and my t-shirt too. My shoes I simply grew out of as my feet
became long, thin and padded, tipped with blunt claws instead of nails. I felt my face
elongate, my snub nose and full lips becoming a muzzle.

I had a split second to admire the lush auburn color of my fur before my vision went

black and white, sharper than it had ever been before. I was suddenly keenly aware of the
smell of dirt, grass and trees and rising above all that, the hot, coppery tang of blood. I
felt the sinking sensation around my heart more strongly now and I knew I didn’t have
much time.

Loping around the ring of boulders, which now looked high and gray, like monoliths

to my wolf’s eyes, I tried to tune out the sounds of battle—the high yips and whimpers
that hadn’t been apparent to me before. I lifted my cool, wet nose to the wind and
breathed in the scent of my prey as Viollca’s sour stench invaded my sensitive nostrils.

Employing all of my new skills, I crept soundlessly around the high boulder she was

standing on. I would have only once chance at this and I knew it. If she noticed me,
noticed what I was doing, she would certainly put me under the same kind of
enchantment that kept most of the pack glassy-eyed and docile.

I looked up the length of her rough stone platform and watched her sway in hellish

glee as her wolves took the lead in killing Stephan’s. There was only one way to stop
her—only one way to save him and take back the pack. Death.

I ran out a long pink tongue, tasting my own hunger as I crouched soundlessly below

her, coiled like a spring on my haunches. It was a blood hunger I had feared and denied,
but now I embraced it. This was no dead rabbit—it was a living woman—a creature that
would squeal and scream as I ripped into her flesh. Some small still-human part of me,
far back in my wolfish brain, knew I should be horrified at the thought. But I wasn’t—I
was elated. And hungry.

I felt another tug at my heart and knew I could wait no more. With a graceful leap

that seemed as natural as breathing, I sprang into the air and knocked her off the boulder.
Viollca screamed, caught off guard, but she recovered quickly. As I pounced on her
chest, feeling my front claws dig into the meat of her body, she opened her red witch’s
mouth, no doubt to curse and bespell me.

I tore out her throat.

Chapter 34

I don’t remember a lot of what went on after that. There was a lot of screaming and

cursing as the pack members Viollca had enchanted woke up from their trance and ripped
off the silver collars and bracelets, giving in to the call of the moon to change. The ones
like Marishka, who had already thrown off her spell and were only constrained by the
silver, changed even more quickly.

Soon the cool night air was filled with a chorus of howling and snarling as the new

wolves joined the fray at the center of the grassy circle. There was a chaos of low, furry
bodies churning against each other like waves in the ocean and new sprays of blood in the
moonlight.

My muzzle was hot with blood as I ripped into the body beneath me, the prey that no

longer struggled. A pity, that. It was better when the prey was alive and fighting, thought
the wolf part of my brain.

Then a draining tug at my heart pulled my attention from Viollca’s grisly remains. In

a blinding flash, I remembered what I was doing in the first place—why I had changed. It
was to save Stephan—Stephan who I could now feel dying.

Whining, my tail held low, I loped to the outer perimeter of the circle, following his

distinctive, musky scent that seemed so clear to me now. He was lying in a furry, bloody
heap, his sides heaving as though every breath was an immense effort. Beside him was
the mangled body of the gray wolf, still wearing its collar. Stephan had stayed by his
father, loyal to the end.

I nudged him with my nose, whining, and those huge golden eyes opened and looked

at me. I leaned down to lick his muzzle and nudged him again, wanting him to get up.

Stupid, you can’t help him like that! The human part of my brain spoke up strongly

and I realized it was right. I was a nurse, after all, a healer before I had ever become a
wolf. If I could help him, it would be in my human form. But could I change back?

I looked up at the moon and howled my uncertainty. I need, I thought, or rather, the

primitive animal part of me thought. I have run with the moon, I have blooded my kill. I
have obeyed the terrible urge. I need to return.

The process in reverse was much like the original change. Again I felt a stretching,

too-tight sensation but this time skin appeared instead of fur. Before I knew it, I was
kneeling naked on the ground before the huge black wolf that was Stephan. I took the
ragged black head in my lap, stroking the scarred muzzle gently.

“Stephan,” I whispered, feeling the horrible, draining tug around my heart, as though

someone had tied an anchor to it and dropped it into the deepest part of the sea. “Stephan,
come back to me.”

The golden eyes flickered for an instant and then, through our bond, I felt him

making the same kind of plea that I had. At last the moon released her hold on him and
the furry body shivered in my arms. He changed before my eyes as he had the first time I
had ever seen him, what seemed like an eternity ago.

“Stephan,” I whispered again, feeling the burn of tears behind my lids. I still held his

head in my lap, cradling him close as though I could shield him from any further harm
with my body. I looked over him, trying to assess his wounds but there were so many…

He licked his lips, which were dry and chapped. “Alissa,” he whispered, his voice

low and rough. “What…” He shook his head, the sea-water eyes unfocussed with pain.
“What happened?”

“Everything’s all right,” I told him, hoping it was true. “Viollca’s dead—she’s dead.

She can’t hurt you anymore.” I could still taste her blood in my mouth—hot and coppery,
but I didn’t care about that now.

“Hurt bad enough already,” he choked. Turning his head, he spat blood on the torn

and trampled ground.

“You’ll heal,” I said fiercely, willing it to be true. “You’ll be just fine now that she’s

gone.” That had to be right, didn’t it? And yet why did I still feel the horrible sinking
sensation around my heart? Why did I still feel him slipping away?

I looked down at his body again, willing the wounds and gashes I saw to heal, to

close up and stop bleeding. If there had been anything obvious, like a gushing artery, I
would have tried to stop the flow, although what I could use for a tourniquet I had no
idea. But there was nothing like that—just the terrible endless seep of blood from so
many rips and gashes, draining his life.

Stephan shifted in my arms, groaning as though every movement was an immense

effort. He whispered something I didn’t catch.

“What?” I asked, leaning down. “Say it again.”
“Going,” he murmured tiredly. “Going now, Alissa. Don’t try to stop me.” He closed

his eyes, looking like a tired little boy who just wanted to sleep. Except I knew this was a
sleep he would never wake up from.

“No!” I said fiercely. “No, I won’t let you.” I slapped his cheeks lightly. “Stay with

me, Stephan. I’ll get you to a hospital—you’re going to be fine.” All he needed was a
blood transfusion, I told myself wildly. All right—maybe several transfusions, but if I
could just get him down to the ER at TGH—they were a level four trauma center and I
knew they could save him. “Stay with me.”

The ocean-water eyes opened and he shook his head slightly. “Don’t want to,” he

breathed. “Let me go … be glad you did.”

“What?” I nearly shouted, feeling my sorrow and rage combine. “Why the hell

would I be glad about losing the man I love?” When I said the words out loud, I knew
them to be true, but I didn’t have time to explore my new knowledge. Stephan was
speaking again, slowly and haltingly as though every word lodged in his throat and hurt
him coming out.

“Told you,” he rasped as I leaned over him. “Told you there was no cure … for the

moon’s curse. No cure but death.”

“But you like being a Vyusher. You’ve been one all your life—you told me so.”
Stephan shook his head again. “Not a cure for me—for you, Te’sorthene.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
He shifted and groaned, a hurt sound that tore at my heart. “Let me go,” he said

faintly. “I bit you … in the first place. Changed you. If I die, your curse dies with me.
You won’t change, ever again.” He closed his eyes as though speaking those words had
cost him a huge effort and he was exhausted. I held him, feeling stunned as what he had
told me finally sank in.

Your curse dies with me, he had said. The curse of being a Vyusher and changing

each full moon. I could be rid of this dark secret. Be rid of the wolf that had invaded my

mind and taken up residence under my skin. I would go back to being myself again—
plain old dull Alissa O’Malley who was too shy to speak up and too weak to do anything
but knuckle under when someone picked on her. And I would live my life alone because I
wasn’t strong enough to save the man in my arms—the man I had only met two days
ago—the man I wanted in my life forever.

That’s not me anymore, I thought fiercely. I fight for what I want. And right now

what I wanted was Stephan, alive and whole in my arms. Had I really thought I didn’t
love him? That the only thing I felt was the physical chemistry between us and the
strength of the blood-bond? What a fool I had been—what a self-deluding fool! I needed
Stephan like I needed my next breath. But as I felt him slip slowly away from me, I was
afraid I had realized my need too late.

Chapter 35

“Stephan, come back to me. Don’t leave me,” I pleaded softly. “I don’t care about

the curse—don’t care if I spend the rest of my life howling at the full moon every month.
I want you—I need you with me.”

He opened his eyes briefly, but the spark of life was dying from their gorgeous

ocean-water depths, leaving them dull and glassy. He managed to give me a very small
smile. With an effort that must have cost him almost all of his remaining strength, he
raised his hand and cupped my cheek briefly.

“Te’sorthene,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “Love you …

so much.” His hand dropped and his eyes closed again, this time, I feared, for the last
time.

“Stephan—no!” I shook him but got no response. There was a pain in my chest like

nothing I had ever felt before. It was like someone was squeezing my heart in a vice
made of jagged thorns. He was dying—I was losing him. I could feel him ebbing away
rapidly, like the tide flowing away from the shore. I was standing on the shore and calling
to him but he was getting farther and farther away from me, carried out to sea on the
unstoppable waves of death.

Small droplets of moisture were raining down on his face and I realized suddenly,

they were my tears. I was sobbing—sobbing as though my heart would break—as though
it was already broken. How could I realize too late that I loved him? How could I lose
him now that I knew?

Stop that! You can’t help him by crying. The sharp voice in my head didn’t seem to

be my own. I looked up, not seeing anything but the carnage of the huge wolf battle. And
yet, the feeling persisted that there was someone there with me, someone older and wiser
who knew what to do.

You’re the pack’s new Taibhsear, so act like one, the voice which seemed to come

from inside my head insisted.

“Taibhsear?” I tasted the word on my tongue, rolling the rough foreign syllables in

my mouth. Marishka had said that to me, had called me that when she asked if I could
heal people. I’d told her that I was a nurse. But looking down at Stephan’s battered body,
I knew there was no way any of my medical training could help him now. He was too
terribly wounded and he’d lost so much blood…

Silly girl! Nobody wants your medical training here. What you need is your life force

and the will to bring him back before it’s too late.

“It’s already too late,” I protested, looking at the limp form in my arms. His face had

gone slack and he was dead weight in my lap.

It will be too late if you sit here crying instead of doing something. I thought you

were a healer, girl. Don’t tell me I picked a fool to pass my spirit to or I’ll never be able
to rest.

“I’m not a fool,” I said, stung by her criticism into forgetting the hopelessness of my

situation. “If you’ll tell me what to do, I’ll do it. I’ll try anything to bring him back.”

Well, that is more like it. The voice in my head sounded more approving this time. I

wished there was something I could see instead of just the disembodied voice. I

wondered if the grief of losing Stephan was driving me crazy but I dismissed the thought
at once. If there was even a slim chance, I had to take it, no matter who was giving the
instructions.

“Well, how can I heal him?” I asked aloud. “Help me—you said you would.”
How did you heal him before? came the maddening reply. Touch him—hold him. Let

him feel your presence.

Feeling awkward, I laid Stephan’s head gently on the ground and lay down beside

him to pull him close. We were both still naked, having lost our clothes in the change,
and I felt strange doing this out in the open, in public as it were.

This is no time for foolish modesty, girl. Do as I say if you want to keep your man!
“All right,” I muttered, trying to pull him closer to me. The grass I was laying on was

trampled and bloody and the ground under it was bumpy with stones but that wasn’t my
concern now. I had to bring him back.

Call to him, the voice I was beginning to think of as the old Taibshear urged. Close

your eyes and picture him—call his name.

Closing my eyes tightly, I obeyed her. “Stephan,” I called in a low voice, pressing

his face to my neck. “Stephan, come back to me. Don’t leave me.” I tried to picture him
as I had before, floating out to sea on the tide. Only this time I pictured the waves
bringing him back to me, bringing him closer as I stood on the shore and waited.

Cast out your spirit, advised the voice. You must bridge the void to bring him back.
Biting my lip with effort, I pulled his limp body closer and envisioned myself

throwing him a rope I had made myself. Into it, I put everything I was feeling—my love
for him, newly discovered but fierce and unshakable despite that, my longing to feel him
hold me again, to feel his tenderness surround me, and my desire—the heat I felt when he
held me close and kissed me as though he would never stop.

“I love you,” I murmured over and over again. “I love you, Stephan. I want you, I

need you. Come back to me—I won’t let you go. I refuse to lose you like this. Come back
to me now.”

I thought I felt a slight stirring of my hair where his head was placed. Could it be his

breath? In the vision I was playing in my head, I saw him look at me and reach for the
rope, the rope that was woven of my spirit, my life-force. He reached for it, but the waves
were strong and he couldn’t quite grasp it.

“Come on!” I urged him, rubbing my hands over his broad back. “Come on,

Stephan—take it! Come back to me, I command you to. What binds us is stronger than
death.” I poured all of myself into the spirit rope, all of my love, hope, need and desire,
and to it I added the strength of our bond—the blood-bond formed so many years ago by
an angry, vengeful witch for the purpose of pain and heartbreak. Now I was determined
to use it for good—to use it to bring him back to me.

In my head, I saw him catch the rope and then my hair stirred again in a warm

wind—definitely his breath. His large body stirred against mine as I urged him onwards.

“Come back, come back,” I chanted in a low, intense voice, hardly knowing what I

was saying. My eyes were still tightly closed and inside my head I was pulling him in,
hauling on the rope hand over hand to bring him to the sandy shore. “I love you, I want
you,” I whispered.

Hardly knowing what I was doing, I began to kiss him, his neck, his cheek, the

strongly arched brows and the closed eyes where his dark lashes rested on the high

cheekbones like tiny fans. I opened my eyes to see him in the moonlight—to see his
beauty and the pinkish hue returning to his cheeks.

Inside my head, I felt his feet touch the shore. He was still in the water but not letting

go of the rope—he was moving toward me. He took another breath and moved in my
arms. To my utter and complete joy, his eyes fluttered open, showing me the familiar sea-
water depths. “Stephan?” I asked, almost afraid to believe it.

“Alissa?” He sounded like a man coming out of a deep sleep. But it had been no

sleep I had brought him back from—and not just me.

“Thank you,” I murmured to the disembodied voice. “Thank you, thank you.”
All right, child. I knew you could do it. Now I can pass on my spirit in peace.
I felt a cool rush all over my body, as though a gust of refreshing mountain air had

bathed me all at once and then I heard the voice again. Dza devlesa, she said and I
realized that I understood without her having to translate. Go with God, she had told me.
Then, with one more cool rush of sensation she was gone.

Chapter 36

“Alissa?” Stephan still looked disoriented and weak but he was breathing normally

and when I pressed my ear to his chest, his heartbeat was slow but steady. “What
happened?” he asked me.

Before I could answer a perky beep beep interrupted me and a suddenly a bright light

was shining in my face.

“Geeze, you two, get a room.” It was Viv, driving my bug and trying to sound like

she was perfectly fine when she was probably still scared stiff. I stood up, feeling more
self-conscious than ever about my nudity, and helped Stephan to his feet.

“It’s okay, Viv,” I said, walking around the side of the car. “Everything’s okay now.”
“Oh, my God, Lissa. Are you really all right?” Viv was out of the car and hugging

me tight before she even finished speaking.

“I’m fine,” I said, hugging her back. “But didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”
“I just couldn’t go,” she said simply. “I mean, I got to the car and into it and then I

just couldn’t leave.” She shrugged. “I figured your bug could probably drive faster than a
wolf could run so I thought I’d drive back with the lights off and see if I could persuade
you to come with me. Then I saw…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I
saw.”

“Try not to think about it,” I advised her. “It’ll just make your head hurt. Look, I

think I have a spare set of gym clothes in my trunk so if you don’t mind…” I waved at
myself, indicating my current state of undress.

“Oh, yeah.” Viv popped the trunk and I went back to pull on the shorts and t-shirt I

had stored for my all too-infrequent gym visits. I felt much better after I was covered.

While I was digging around for something that might possibly fit Stephan, he came

up and touched me on the arm. “Alissa,” he said and something in the sound of his voice
made me stop rummaging in the trunk and look up at him with concern.

“Stephan? Are you all right?” I reached up to lay a hand on his forehead—silly, I

know, but it was an automatic gesture.

“I’m fine.” He captured my hand and pressed a brief kiss into my palm. “But my

people are not.”

“What?” I looked at him, uncomprehending.
“Come look,” he said softly, pulling me in the direction of the circle again. I went

reluctantly. I had been hoping to never see any of it again. But once I caught sight of
what was going on, the nurse in me wanted to take immediate action.

Pack members were laying all around the circle of boulder, some obviously dead and

others possibly dying. Most of them had changed back from wolf form and the few
wolves I saw were dead. Obviously they kept whatever form they died in.

“Can you help them?” Stephan said, his deep voice hopeful.
“I don’t know, I don’t have any equipment,” I said, wishing for just one first aid kit.
“No.” He shook his head. “Not like that. The way you helped me, Te’sorthene.”
I looked at him, feeling very uncertain. I had brought him back by pressing my naked

body against his and throwing him a lifeline made of my spirit and our shared passion.
Could I do as much for someone else? Possibly someone I didn’t even know?

“Please … please, Taibhsear.” Someone was tugging on my other arm and I turned

to see Marishka standing beside me, completely nude and covered in blood. There were
tears streaming down her face. “It’s Marko,” she said, tugging at my arm again. “I think
he’s going. Please, can you help?”

“I … I’ll try,” I said hesitantly. What else could I do? I nodded at Viv and she

understood my silent request. Being a nurse too, she also naturally wanted to help.

We picked our way across the battlefield to where Marko lay, also nude and bloody.

Marishka ran to him and cradled his head in her lap, stroking his dark hair back from the
high, square forehead. Hesitantly, I knelt beside him and took one large, scarred hand in
mine.

“Marko?” I said. “Can you hear me? It was different than it had been with Stephan,

much to my relief. I found that I was able to reach Marko by using the part of me that
was now wolf—Vyusher—to call him back. And I didn’t have to get naked to do it either.
It was an arduous process but when I was done, I was certain he would make it. Then
another pack member needed my attention. And another, and another. Viv went around,
trying to assess and help the less hurt while I went to the critically wounded and did my
best to bring them back.

I’m no miracle worker—I lost a few and I cried over them, these members of my

new extended family that I hadn’t been able to save. But for the most part, I reached them
and coaxed them back to the land of the living. Their bodies had remarkable regenerative
abilities, I found, watching in awe as they healed in front of my eyes. They just had to be
encouraged to use them, reminded in a way, and reminded too, that they were loved and
valued members of a pack that wanted them back.

By the time everyone who could be healed had been and the rest were taken away for

burial, it was nearly six o’clock in the morning and dawn was breaking. I saw the ghost
of the full moon fade in the pearly light of the sunrise with mixed feelings. True, I was
something other now—something different than I had ever been before. But as Stephan
held me close and the pack gathered around us, I realized that I could learn to live with
the changes in myself and my world and I would never be alone.

Epilogue

We had a simple ceremony out in the forest under the new moon and Viv was my

matron of honor. She was six months pregnant by that time and starting to show, her
stomach round and pretty under the simple green dress she’d chosen to wear. Marishka
also stood by my side, a fierce and loyal friend ever since that deadly night when Viollca
was finally defeated. No one but Stephan really knew what had happened that night—I
suspected Viv might have seen it, but, like a good friend, she never mentioned it to me.

My grandmother had refused to come to the wedding, a fact that saddened but didn’t

surprise me. She wouldn’t see me anymore, not even alone, preferring to stay holed up in
her Westchase mansion with the hyperactive Philomena. There was just nothing I could
do about it, but it seemed sad that she should choose to live the rest of her life with only
her money and a nasty little dog for company instead of broadening her views.

We had a honeymoon trip to Europe planned and Stephan was hoping to get some

photography done while we were there. He had a new exhibition planned for the next
year and he needed new material. For a while, in the aftermath of Viollca, he had
considered giving up his art but I encouraged him not to. He was happiest when looking
through the lens of a camera although his responsibilities to the pack came first. He still
blamed himself in part, for the death of his father, and the grieving process had been a
long one.

We had fallen into a comfortable routine, getting the pack back in order and, in my

case, getting to know all the members as their new Taibhsear. I found I fell naturally into
the role, as though my years spent in nursing were only a warm-up for my true life’s
work, caring for the extended family I now had.

I never went back to nursing—I didn’t feel the need to. I did go back to Tampa

General, just once, to confront Judith my old supervisor. The look on her face when I let
my Vyusher nature show was priceless. Of course, I didn’t go through a full change. But
when I let my eyes turn from blue to the pale green they took in my wolf form, she was
quick to agree to go to Human Resources with me. The whole dirty mess came out,
including the incident that started her abuse, and I was gratified when my name was
cleared of any wrongdoing and they offered me my old position back. I didn’t accept, but
heard later from an old co-worker I met in the grocery store that the whole incident had
ended up causing the powers that be to call for a peer review. During the review, it came
out that Judith had been abusing her powers in all kinds of ways including, surprise
surprise, taking drugs from the locked drug cabinet. She’d been terminated as a result and
I couldn’t find it in my heart to feel very sorry for her about it.

As for Dr. Mike Addison, he was no longer practicing medicine. He’d become very

strange, the old co-worker confided, as we stood together on the frozen foods aisle.
Always talking about wolves that changed into people and the crazy things he’d seen. Of
course no one believed him and he was currently “taking a break” at a resort that
specialized in stress management.

Of course, I had to find all this out the day before we were leaving for our delayed

honeymoon. I came back to the condo which was blessedly quiet, (we’d never seen

Bernie Tessenbacker since that fateful night when I first brought Stephan home) bursting
to tell my new husband all about it.

Stephan was in the bedroom, packing clothes in a rather large suitcase since we

planned to be gone at least a month. He had told me there were some wonderful hunting
grounds in Italy and France so wherever we were when the full moon hit, we’d be ready.
He also wanted to try and make peace with some of the other bands of Rom who held the
Vyusher in such fear.

The entire misunderstanding, which had started back in his grandfather’s time, was

all caused by the Vyusher tradition of stealing their brides from other clans. It had also
been Viollca’s grievance and though she had been a twisted and evil woman, even I had
to acknowledge that she had some reason to be upset. The loss of her beloved little
sister—Stephan’s mother—had been too much for her to bear and revenge might have
seemed her only option. Stephan was hoping to bring peace between the Rom people and
the wolf clans and perhaps to ask girls to come willingly to be Vyusher brides. I was
going to be there to give a personal testimonial about my own experiences and assure
other nervous Rom girls it really wasn’t so bad howling at the full moon one night every
month.

When we came back, we would be staying in Tampa just long enough to shut down

the condo and move to the pack’s summer home in upstate New York. It sounded like a
wild, free kind of life, moving from place to place and I was excited to try it. Now that
Viv was gone and Grandmother was no longer speaking to me, the city by the bay held
nothing for me anymore. Of course, I would be going back to Tallahassee when Viv had
the baby—I had promised her that. The ultrasound showed it was a little girl and she and
Larry were already calling her ‘little Lissa.’

When I finished my story about the doings at TGH, Stephan shut the suitcase and

came over to take me in his arms. “Well,” he mused. “It sounds like everyone got what
was coming to them.”

“Everybody but me,” I said, snuggling closer and planting a kiss on the corner of his

mouth. “You haven’t touched me in weeks.”

“Insatiable woman,” he growled, nuzzling my neck playfully. “We just made love

this morning before you went out. What more do you want?”

“I want it all,” I told him coolly, leaning against him in a way that he couldn’t

misunderstand.

“Then you shall have it.” He grinned and swung me into his arms, turning to knock

the suitcase off the bed. He pressed me into the mattress and took a long, slow time with
me, bringing me to the brink several times before finally making me come.

As my orgasm overcame me, I realized that I already had it all. Old friends to love,

as well as a new life, a new family and a tall dark and handsome man who loved me to
distraction to share my future with.

I had found everything I had ever dreamed of, under the gypsy moon.

The End

About the Author:

Evangeline Anderson is a registered MRI tech who would rather be writing. She is

thirty-something and lives in Florida with a husband, three cats and a college-age sister
but no kids because enough is enough already. She had been writing stories for her own
gratification for a number of years before it occurred to her to try and get paid for it. To
her delight, she found it was actually possible to get money for her crazy ideas and she
has been writing science fiction and paranormal romance steadily ever since.

Meet Lsb Authors At Http://Lsbooks.Net

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