Bright Moon (23 page)

“Dingo, is it?” Tyson asked and shook his
hand.

Dingo nodded. “It wasn’t always my name, but
I have decided to leave my old life behind.”

“They must choose a new name if they are to
enter my pack,” Rodger said. “It helps them transition and
forget.”

Dingo watched Clara closely as they spoke.
“We are very curious about your mortal,” he said as if she were
Tyson’s pet. “Why would you risk keeping her near?”

“Dingo,” Rodger said and slapped the man on
the back. “His business is not ours.”

“It is curious to say the least,” Dingo
answered ingenuously.

“Believe it or not, she has been invited
into my pack to keep her from the infection,” Tyson said. “My
brother set his sights on her and has endeavored to turn her on
more than one occasion.”

“Brother?” Dingo asked. “A literal
brother?”

“Come now, Dingo, back to work with you,”
Rodger interjected.

Dingo disappeared with a look of confusion
on his face.

“Please excuse him, he is young still. Well,
young lady, I was disappointed not to see you at dinner last
evening.”

“She was tired,” Tyson said for her.

“Is she mute?”

“I am not mute,” she said, finally finding
her voice. “Please excuse my absence last evening, sir, I was
tired.”

“I expect to see you at dinner tonight,”
Rodger said. “We don’t often get a chance to break bread with
company, especially company as lovely as you.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said and her cheeks
went pink.

“Please, call me Rodger. Tyson, you will
share your mortal tonight, won’t you?”

“If it is alright with you, then of
course.”

“She will do us good,” Rodger said as if
convincing himself of the matter. “I expect you’ll be off now.
Remember my boys are out there, so don’t be surprised if you run
into any of them.”

“Certainly,” Tyson said with a nod.

Rodger nodded as well and lifted his cane to
vanish from before them. She puzzled over how strange his pack
seemed until Tyson’s large wolf head appeared in her line of sight.
She jumped and took a step back. “Tyson! Warn me before you do
that!” she gasped. His eyes glittered mischievously and she put a
hand on his cheek. “I guess I should know better by now, but when
you said we were going for a walk I thought I would be doing some
walking as well.”

“
Get on.”

She gasped and withdrew her hand. Not only
could she hear him, she could sense how much he longed to run. His
ears fell flat and he pushed his nose into her palm.

“
You heard me?”

“I hear you,” she whispered. His eyes
widened and an outbreak of panic washed over him before he yanked
his nose away. “Tyson?” she asked in a small voice and stretched
her hand toward him again. He huffed and shook his body like a wet
dog. His wide, dog paws moved from her and he closed his eyes. She
wrestled with disappointment until his eyes popped open again and
he approached, touching his nose to her hand. There was a forced
sense of calm about him.

“
Alright, get on.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, remembering how
Callan had laughed. “They will see.”

Her mind filled with images of him running
and she felt excited.
“Yes, now come on!”
He crouched down
and she climbed on. This time she knew to hug his neck and keep as
still as she could. With time less of an issue than before, he
moved more slowly. She wasn’t sure if he meant to or not, but they
didn’t encounter any of Rodger’s pack.

He meandered about, searching through
everything for nothing. The day was rather warm for late autumn. If
it had been cold she would have kept warm in his dense fur. He
remained silent after their initial conversation, but she could
sense his thoughts as he investigated the area. Sometime after the
sun reached high noon, Callan found them and he too was in his wolf
form. He came running up with his tongue lolling and his great
chest heaving with exhilaration. She heard his laughter in the
chuckles that echoed through Tyson’s mind.

“
Ha, ha, ha, ha! I was hoping to get a
chance to see this!”
Irritation shot through Tyson before he
forced patience to calm his thoughts.

“
She can hear me when she touches my
fur!”
he thought.

“I can hear him too,” she added, sitting a
little straighter. “I still don’t understand what’s so funny.”

There was gaping silence as Callan recovered
from shock.
“How can she hear me?”
he asked.

“
It’s probably due to the fact that I can
hear you,”
Tyson answered.

Callan glanced to his sister.
“Why can
she hear you?”

“
I’m still not sure about that one. I can
only guess that she has more werewolf in her than we first
assumed.”

“I’m werewolf?” she asked, unable to keep
the thrill from her voice. She gasped when Tyson’s fierce anger
came into her mind, nearly burning her thoughts with the intensity
of it.

“
I’m sorry,”
he growled.
“Just…don’t sound so glad about it, alright?”

“Alright,” she agreed, but smiled. Callan’s
tail wagged back and forth and his head cocked to one side.

“
Hold on,”
Tyson warned before
starting off again. She shifted to a more comfortable position,
content in listening to them share their thoughts. Callan’s
emotions were off the grid and, like a child, he could only focus
on something for a small period of time. They continued their romp
and sniffed the wind for signs of their pack.

Hours later, they were making their way
through a small clump of trees when Tyson came to an abrupt halt.
He listened intently and sniffed the air. Jolts of fear ran up her
arms and she pushed back in order to better see.

“
It’s Rodger,”
Tyson thought to her.
“He’s taken his wolf form.”

“What does he want?” she asked.

“
I’m not sure.”

“Is he too far to hear?”

“
We can’t hear anyone but our pack,”
Callan supplied.

“
I wouldn’t be surprised if he only wants
to see you…and me,”
Tyson added. A surge of humor welled from
Callan. Clara was about to say something in Tyson’s defense, or to
Callan’s offense, when Rodger approached.

Each member of Tyson’s pack was wondrous to
behold when in their canine form. Their bodies were massive and
strong, their fur glossy and thick, their claws and teeth
formidable. She knew Rodger had been older when he was infected,
but she had no idea it would affect his wolf form.

His body was bigger than a mortal wolf, but
his limbs were thin and scraggily. Bald spots were clearly visible
in his dull grey-brown fur and tufts stuck out at odd angles behind
his ears. His snout, paws, ears and tail were speckled white. A few
defined lines creased the skin where his lip curled and jowls had
formed under his chin. He limped toward them and stared at her, his
brown-green eyes unblinking. His attention shifted to Tyson, then
to Callan and he huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. A grumble
tumbled from his throat before he sauntered off.

“What was that about?” Clara whispered.

“
He thought it was funny too,”
Callan
responded with a laugh.

“
We better go to the house if we’re going
to clean ourselves up for dinner,”
Tyson snapped. They took to
running again and it wasn’t long before the house came in sight.
“Be careful, your legs will be tight,”
he warned when he
came to a stop near the door and she moved to slide off. She knew
he was right, she had felt her legs cramping even before they
decided to return. Keeping a hold of his fur, she lowered her feet
to the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut when her legs tingled
harshly. She inhaled sharply as his fur changed to cloth beneath
her touch, but when she looked up he’d already changed shape.

“Is it bad?” he asked. She released his
shirt and shook her head. Callan was suddenly next to them, having
taken his human form as well.

“Do you smell that?” he asked, and yes, even
she could smell the buttery, spicy, savory smell wafting from the
house. Callan’s eyes lit and he rushed inside. She shifted her
legs, testing their ability before actually taking a step.

“I recall carrying you the last time your
legs gave up on you,” Tyson said quietly.

“I’m alright,” she answered. “It’s a mortal
thing, it will pass soon.”

He fell into a gloomy silence. Callan
occupied the shower by the time she reached their room. There was
only one bathroom upstairs and she was inclined to wait. By the
time they were ready, five-thirty was upon them. They hurried
downstairs to a sort of dining room where Rodger and his
boys
sat.

“You must come and sit next to me,” Rodger
said when they entered and pointed to the empty seats on either
side of him. His chair was at the head of the table, which allowed
both Callan and Clara to sit next to him as he indicated. Tyson, of
course, took the seat next to hers. The dinner consisted of mounds
of meat piled on platters. Thankfully, there were also a few
choices of vegetables.

“You have not met my boys,” Rodger said as
he removed his cap to reveal a head that had once been balding when
he was mortal. “Dingo you know and I will introduce the rest before
we begin our meal.”

Clara kept her eyes on her empty plate until
then, doing her best to follow Tyson’s advice. She looked up to see
Dingo in the chair next to Callan. Six others sat around the table
and Rodger began rattling off names.

“Next to Dingo is Lyca.”

The man was very young looking, even younger
than Jack and could hardly be called a man at all. He had tawny
hair and a sprinkling of freckles over his nose. His grass-green
eyes were sharp and mistrusting.

“And next to Lyca is Ovid.”

Ovid was rather small for a werewolf, but
still large in the mortal realm. He had sandy hair and bronze
colored skin. His face was friendly enough and his dark eyes shone
when he smiled.

“Next to Ovid is Lobo.”

A Hispanic man with a thin face nodded and
waved, but his features remained serious.

“Next to Lobo is Griseous.”

Griseous was unusually tall, even for a
werewolf. His face was square and he had a firm jaw. His huge,
broad shoulders tensed and he gripped the table before relaxing and
smiling nervously.

“Now we’re coming up the other side of the
table,” Rodger said. “There at the end is Herk.”

Herk was twice the size of any man there and
then some. He had short, military style hair and a thick, bulging
neck.

“And last is Rusty.”

Sitting just next to Tyson, Rusty had to
lean forward to see Clara. He had dark, reddish brown hair that
partially shielded his eyes.

“Say hello to our guests everyone,” Rodger
said.

A cacophonous response resulted as they
replied with their own hello.

“Now we can get to eating,” Rodger said and
rubbed his hands together. He took his fork and stabbed a large
piece of beef. Once the food touched his plate, it was as if
someone rang a bell and a few of the men leapt at the meat. Callan
was just as bad as the worst, taking three massive pieces of
whatever he could reach. The scene made Clara forget her hunger and
her fists closed nervously in her lap. Tyson touched her knee from
under the table. She glanced to him and his plate was empty as
well. When the noise died down, he grabbed a bowl of fried zucchini
and placed it near her elbow.

“Thanks,” she whispered and coaxed a few
slices onto her plate. Only then did he reach out and take a
helping of the juicy looking steaks. She could scarcely eat while
watching Rodger cut his steak. The beef seemed to have been cooked,
but a puddle of blood oozed from the incision.

“Dingo tells me you smelled of Felina when
you first came,” he said as he chewed. “Have you been to pay her a
visit?”

“We were there just before we came here,”
Tyson affirmed. “New pups entered her pack and she wasn’t up for a
visit.”

“I expect that’s why she didn’t want
a…that’s why she didn’t want Clara around.”

“You haven’t had new additions lately, have
you?” Tyson asked.

“Not since Griseous. I’m sure you can tell
he’s still not accustomed to his new body. He’s nearly three years
into it, but he’s coming along nicely.” Rodger turned his attention
to Callan. “What about you, pup? How old are you?”

Callan swallowed a large chunk of his
portion. “Nine months.”

“Nine months?” Rodger asked, his bushy
eyebrows rising in surprise. “And you let him out in public,
Tyson?”

“He’s tamed quickly,” Tyson said. “Having
Clara near has seemed to strengthen him some as well.”

“He draws strength from a mortal?”

“She’s not just a
mortal
, she’s my
twin sister,” Callan interjected, shooting her a grin.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dingo cut in,
jamming a steak knife into his helping of meat. “She
was
your twin sister. Now she’s a mortal, an innocent. What you were
before died the moment the beast grew in the shadow of your heart.
Rodger has taught us to leave everything behind, even those who
once strengthened us. You must find your own strength if you’re to
survive in this world.”

“Calm yourself, Dingo,” Rodger said and
raised a hand to him. “They have a different way of living.”

“They’re endangering her as well as others.
Haven’t you always said that keeping the infection to ourselves and
protecting innocents is more important than anything else?”

“I have said that, but we don’t know the
extent of their story, nor is it our business.”

Dingo’s eyes lingered on Tyson before he
returned to his food.

“Dingo is a devoted member of the pack,”
Rodger said as way of explanation. “He remembers everything I
say.”