Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel) (13 page)

Then Shelly shook herself and sighed. “I don’t think it was an internal problem, Sheriff, but I promise that the Board will be meeting tomorrow. We’ll see if we can think of anyone or anything that isn’t coming to mind right now and get back to you right away. Thank you for all your help.” Her nod took in the firefighters as well. Her expression was bleak, hopeless even. Becca wondered if they’d lost more than they realized.

Henderson didn’t look too happy either but he seemed to accept what he was given, at least for the moment. He still got the last word in. “This is an open investigation now. Ladies, if you would clear out, we’ll get started roping this off. You’ll be able to come back in a day or two to retrieve whatever you think is salvageable after we’ve pulled what we need for testing. Good night.”

Clearly dismissed, the Pack began clearing out in twos and threes. Becca trailed after Erin back to her car. She buzzed inside with a combination of frustration and anger and nerves that made it hard not to speed on their drive home.

In contrast, Erin was silent, so quiet in fact that Becca thought she’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t until they pulled into their street that either of them said anything aloud. “I could kill them all right now, every bloody Nester that’s ever come near this town” Erin said in a conversational tone. “I need to work some of this off so I can think clearly.”

Becca nodded and parked the car in front of her house. A fleeting image of Ed and his paperwork crossed her mind, but she could deal with that tomorrow. There was enough going on now as it was. They got out and she stretched carefully, listening for the sound of her joints creaking. They didn’t and that gave her an idea. She took a deep breath, “Jog around the block be too much for your arm?”

Erin shook her head and they looked at each other before either moved. Becca thought about hugging her, but it seemed like it was too soon, too much. Instead they took off in unison, running stiffly through the dark streets of Wolf’s Point without a single thought about what anyone else might think of them.

Shelly wasn’t at the store the next day and Becca wasn’t too surprised. The Board would be meeting about the club and she suspected that the Pack would be meeting after that. She pushed the thought aside for the moment and glanced at Pete.

He didn’t look like he’d had much sleep either. She went into the back room first thing and made them a big pot of coffee. He smiled when she handed him a cup, then frowned like his mind was elsewhere. “I heard about the Women’s Club,” he rumbled finally, just as they got started with restocking. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to come down and help but I had to stay home with the kids. Shelly didn’t want to risk the twins out there and Kira’s off at camp.”

Becca thought about Howie and Marla, Pete and Shelly’s eight-year old twins, who were completely fearless and endlessly inquisitive. She nodded. “Shelly dealing with the Board today?”

He nodded in his turn. Becca went on, stumbling over her words. “Is it always like this? I know you don’t change so I don’t mean that part—but the rest, always wondering what other people are up to, stuff burning up and getting shot at, all of this…stuff?” She finished weakly, realizing that maybe he wasn’t supposed to talk to her about it. Maybe there was some kind of rule like Fight Club or something. That fear made her stop short of using the words “were” and “wolf.”

Pete glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow. For a minute, she felt horrible. Had she violated some rule of werewolf etiquette? “What happens in the Pack, stays in the Pack.” She imagined that as Wolf’s Point’s latest tourist campaign slogan and stifled a nervous giggle.

Pete looked away. “Can’t talk about it much here, but no, it’s not always like this. Most of the time, it’s just changing and patrolling the woods and a few meetings a month. Just like Rotary or something along those lines, except for the obvious differences. Of course, every now and then, something goes bad. Then none of us gets any sleep for a while.” He rubbed his eyes and stared out the front door. “But welcome to the Pack, I guess. I’d been wondering.”

Becca blushed, feeling the beginnings of a flash coming on. Honestly, some days it was hard to say which change was worse. She chugged her coffee in a vicious couple of gulps, knowing it would just make her hotter and more uncomfortable. “Thanks,” she said in tones rich with irony.

Customers began flooding in before she could ask anything else. Becca wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or not that she didn’t get more than a minute alone with Pete for the next few days. Even when they weren’t busy, Shelly’s mom was getting worse so Pete had to leave before close to make dinner for the kids. She got so much time alone with her thoughts that they climbed all over the place, like monkeys.

On Friday night, Becca was locking up the store and thinking about her own dinner when the space between her shoulders told her she was being watched. A quick glance around didn’t show her anything out of the ordinary but the feeling lingered anyway, making her edgy. She turned and pressed her back to the door to survey the street, throwing in a glance at the rooftops for good measure.

Then she looked into the shadows of the alleyway across the street, just beyond the range of the streetlights. They were going to need to remind Barbara Jean at Pawprint Gifts to check the bulbs on the alley lights again, that much was clear. But then, Becca realized, the dark wasn’t as dark for her as it had been, not since she’d begun to change.

Someone was moving in the shadows, someone who stepped forward and gestured to her. She stared at whoever it was, hoping it would turn out to be Erin. The butterflies started doing a quick tango through her insides. Perhaps they would be doing more training tonight. Then she realized how crazy that thought was: Erin wouldn’t hide from her in the shadows.

But she knew someone who might. It appeared that Oya hadn’t left town, not yet, though from the way the aspiring werewolf hunter was hugging the dark, she didn’t want anyone else realizing that. She beckoned again, not saying a word, and Becca found herself rolling her eyes. What was with the drama? Why not just come over and say what she wanted to say? Unless of course, she had something new to hide. Like arson, perhaps.

Becca thought about ignoring her and going home to make dinner. She was really too tired to deal with this right now, especially by herself. Then she thought about calling the police but then she didn’t have any real proof that the Nesters had done anything. Besides, wasn’t she supposed to be all about protecting the town now? She should be able to handle one unstable woman by herself. With a sigh and something approaching a growl, she straightened her shoulders and crossed the street.

Oya smiled when she got closer. It was more like a baring of teeth, really, and Becca bared hers right back. She hoped they looked long and sharp and she exerted her imagination to make them look as scary as possible. But if it worked, Oya wasn’t showing it.

Becca stopped a few feet away from the other woman. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk you. Alone. I’ve got something to show you that will help you and your furry friends.” She made a quick movement toward her inside pocket and Becca flinched back, snarling a little. Oya tugged her jacket open and patted the pistol in her belt. “Full of silver bullets just in case. But then you can’t change yet, can you?” Her tone was smug.

Becca forced herself to stand up straight and her face to slide into the blandest expression she could muster. The wolf inside her howled its rage as she locked it back down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I bet Sheriff Henderson would love to hear about tourists running around downtown flashing their guns and threatening the locals.”

“I bet the sheriff would like to hear about a lot of things, starting with some stories about what happens to people in this town who piss off its self-appointed guardians. Shall we go talk to him together?” Oya laughed and Becca knew her face had given her thoughts away. “I didn’t think so. No, I’ve got something better: a cure. How’d you and your pals like to stop being wolves?”

Becca froze. Her emotions swirled through her, falling over each other in their haste to be felt. This couldn’t be true, not coming from Oya. She hated them too much. She must mean killing them all off, that had to be it.

With her doubts, her pulse began to race. She had to do something, anything to stop this. Didn’t she? She could feel her muscles begin to tighten as her body prepared her to attack. Or flee. She imagined the taste of Oya’s blood on her lips and the wolf howled back into life inside her.

Oya held up her hand. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It’s a real cure. Nothing more, nothing less,” She smiled, a flash of delight and power this time, with little room for malice. “And we just perfected it. We’re sure it works.”

Becca managed to keep her mouth from flopping open but just barely. A real cure. Just like the one she’d been wondering about. She could be normal again: dull, ordinary Becca Thornton sliding slowly toward that great Good Night, surrounded by her completely normal friends. She’d buy that retirement condo, just like Ed suggested and then she’d—her thoughts churned for a moment, then settled.

What the hell was she thinking? She might lose everything, even her life. Oya had to be lying or planning something evil. Nothing good could come from the Nesters; they proved that already.

There was a vial in Oya’s hand now, filled with a clear liquid that seemed to have a bubble or two floating in it. She tilted it, letting it catch what little light filtered down between the buildings so it glowed slightly in the dimness. The whole time she held it, she smiled at Becca, her eyes shining in the vial’s reflection. She looked like she thought she held salvation in her hand.

Voice of common sense or not, Becca stared at the vial, mesmerized by it as much as she had been by Oya’s words. Her rage ebbed as she thought instead about what the Women’s Club had felt like before she changed, how it felt like a real community. She wanted that again.

Then it struck her—there was no more Women’s Club and she was talking to the reason why. She could feel that in her bones. In a moment, she was furious again. “Why did you burn down the club? Seems to me that if you’ve got a cure for what you think ails us, you’d have brought it down there in broad daylight. You’d have talked to us instead of sneaking around like this. But this makes you look like a drug dealer. And an arsonist in the bargain.”

Oya’s lips twisted mockingly. “Remember my parents? Then try remembering that your people nearly killed one of my men and hurt a few of the others. You didn’t think we’d let that go unpunished, did you? I wasn’t certain that the club was where you were meeting now but I guessed from the crowd that showed up at the diner that it was the right place. Looks like I guessed right.”

Now it was pure blind terror that filled Becca. They were all vulnerable, then. They could be blackmailed or even killed, picked off one by one in their human forms. Whatever she said next had to make this better, had to convince this woman that she was wrong. “Actually, it’s just me and one or two others. The folks who showed up were just my friends, checking to see if I was okay. I’d just come back from a trip out of town.” She made her face bland, imagined her tone as convincing as any church sermon.

Oya snorted. “Like I’d believe that. If it quacks like a duck, or in this case, howls like a wolf, then around here, she probably is one.”

Becca cleared her throat, preparing herself for a different approach. “All right then. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say that you and your aspiring slayer buddies stormed into our town and burned down our werewolf clubhouse. And you’ve been bounding around town ever since. So we all know what you look like, what you smell like and where to find you. Even what some of you taste like.” She smiled, letting her words sink in.

“I’m not scared of you,” Oya’s face tightened, lips thin, eyes dangerous. “If you were going to do anything, you’d have done it by now.”

“Really? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a wolf, Oya?”

The woman flinched and Becca thought she’d found a way in. “I could make that happen for you. They say it just takes a bite or two.” The wildness was riding Becca again. It scared her, but there was more, so much more than fear now.

The river, the forest, even the ground under her feet felt like a part of her. She could smell animals and trees on the wind, hear humans as far away as the outskirts of town. This was her town, her home. She would do whatever it took to protect it and to protect the Pack. Anything and everything. No price was too high.

Oya stumbled back, anger tinged with uncertainty. “You can’t do that. You’re human now.”

“Am I? Do you really know all there is to know about it? I don’t think so.” Becca could feel her nails lengthening, her hands beginning to change. The air was full of tension and the promise of blood and she wanted more, so much more she could taste it. “There are so many things they don’t talk about in those stories. I could cure you of being human, Oya.” She could feel her face shift slightly and gave a short barking laugh.

Oya went pale as she fumbled at her belt, yanked her gun out with shaking hands and pointed it at her. “Stop it! You can’t change now and I know it. Stop trying or I’ll shoot you if I have to.”

“No, I don’t think you will.” Lizzie’s voice echoed in the alleyway from behind Becca and when Becca turned her head, she could see the glint of the deputy’s drawn gun from the corner of her eye.

The wolf in Becca strained toward Oya, desperate to carry out her threat.
Human, human, human,
she chanted inside her head. Without realizing it, she had brought her hands up to her cheeks and was pressing her nails into her own flesh. After a few moments, the sharp sensation sank in and she dropped them back down to her sides. Then she let out a sigh and took in a deep breath, then another, trying to force the bloodlust to drain away.

“You one of them, too, little cousin? I thought you were a bit young for that,” Oya sounded contemptuous now, indifferent to the gun pointed at her.

“Cousin, if I were, do you think you could stand against the two of us? Put the gun down and hand it over.” Lizzie’s voice was almost a purr now, thrumming through the alleyway and filling the air between them.