Bright Moon (25 page)

“He did come back, didn’t he?” she
asked.

“Of course, he fell asleep on the couch.
It’s getting a bit tougher to come back, especially for a pup.”

“Why?” she asked with a puzzled expression.
Tyson laughed.

“Have you forgotten already? The moon will
be full in two nights.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “I thought you
meant he might up and decide to never come back one of these
times.”

“He will always return,” he said assuredly.
“It may just take him a few nights when the moon is full.”

“It’s been a month since I…” she let the
sentence trail off and prodded some fruit with her fork.

“Since you joined us? Indeed it has. A very
exciting
month.”

“That’s putting it kindly, but it beats
cleaning up after kenneled dogs at any rate.”

He laughed and nodded. “After the full moon
has shown her face, I thought I might go in search of Jothram,” he
said the words quietly, watching her face.

“Just you?” she asked disappointedly.

“I’m afraid so, that’s why I’m waiting until
after the full moon. The others will stand guard while I am gone
and they cannot do so when they are drawn away.”

She twisted her fork between two fingers. “I
can’t go with you?”

“Not this time,” he said with a shake of his
head. “I’m hoping Jothram can be persuaded to return with me.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I will do my best. Obviously, I can’t say
for sure.”

The familiar zing of eagerness shot through
her heart. She was impatient to meet Jothram, to prove to Tyson
that she did not love another man. This time, she knew she had to
come in contact with him. If fate had any role in her life, she
would meet Jothram in a few days time. Her heart fluttered at the
idea and she lowered her eyes to the ivory colored lace tablecloth.
“He will. He’s got to.”

“You really are sure, aren’t you?” Tyson
asked and paused in his eating. “Isn’t there a small part of you
that wonders if you could love him?”
“No,” she answered simply and dipped a piece of banana in the syrup
that had pooled under what remained of her pancake.

“You haven’t even asked how old he looks.
Aren’t you curious?”

Truthfully, she never stopped to ponder the
physical features Jothram might possess, but the idea piqued her
interest. “How old does he look?” she asked.

“Ha!” Tyson laughed. “I knew you would be
curious. Would you change your mind about possibly loving him if I
told you he is incredibly young and handsome looking?”

She knew by the glint in his eye that he was
teasing her and she laughed to cover her nerves.

“Who is incredibly handsome?” Callan asked
suspiciously, suddenly appearing at the edge of the table. “Are you
two talking about me?”

“Yes, Callan. We are
always
talking
about you,” Tyson said sarcastically. Callan’s eyes were already on
the plate set for him and he’d forgotten their conversation. “Those
are for you, if you’re wondering. There are eggs and sausages on
the stove as well.”

“Wow, Ty, thanks! I didn’t think I would get
anything to eat until Dawn came back.” Callan went to retrieve his
share of the eggs and meat. He could be heard scraping the pan with
a wooden spoon.

“How old was he?” she asked as she poked at
her pancake. “When the curse was placed on him?”

“Seventy-three.”

His answer came so readily she wasn’t sure
he was teasing after all.

The nearest shopping centers must have been
some distance away, because Dawn did not return until well after
lunch time had come and gone. Jack and Mesha had surfaced and had
eaten their fill of breakfast by then. Clara was so pleased to
receive something more feminine to wear than sweats and tees that
she thanked Dawn several times in succession then hurried to
change.

In addition to the clothing, Dawn purchased
several new movies and books, as the little house had scarcely
anything in the way of entertainment. Of course, the others were
not interested in such things then. It became more and more
difficult for them to stay in the house, even in the daylight
hours. Every hour that brought them closer to the night of the full
moon had them more on edge and agitated. Mesha snapped at Callan
several times until Tyson finally sent both of them out of the
house. Neither was thrilled, but did as instructed.

Tyson was the only one who could stay with
her that night, but he didn’t handle it well. Clara went to bed
early to give him what peace she could. The next day he was a mess
and had acquired dark circles under his eyes. She was eating a bowl
of cold cereal when he shuffled into the kitchen. The agitation
that had vanished since they stepped off the plane in Townsville
was back double fold. He leaned over the counter, grabbing a glass
from the dish drainer. The thing smashed to pieces and he growled a
string of curses she could not translate. He swept the glass into
the trash and tried again, finally managing to drink some
water.

“Is everything okay?” she asked when he
joined her at the table.

“No,” he grumbled and she was reminded of
the Tyson she’d first met, the one fighting the glow of the full
moon to keep from scaring her.

“Isn’t there anything that can help
you?”

“Besides silver? No.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and returned her
attention to her bowl, absently stirring the contents.

“It’s fine…or, it will be. Listen, I won’t
be able to stay here tonight, which means no one will be here. I
will try to keep in sight of the house as I did before.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“I do,” he answered and massaged the bridge
of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. She reached across the
little table and touched his other hand that rested on the pale
blue tablecloth.

“You don’t, there is another solution.”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“Why don’t you take me with you?”

He sat back in his chair, studying her.
“It’s too risky.”

“It isn’t,” she disagreed. “You could leave
early in the day when you are in control. I will stay with you and
you will be used to my presence. I can be your personal parasite
for the night.”

A hint of a grin escaped his somber mood.
“What if your body can’t endure to ride that long?”

“I can! Don’t you remember how far we went
the first time I rode? Besides, I don’t feel anything until after I
have gotten off. My legs are numb until then.”

He studied her as he pondered the idea. He
glanced to a clock on the wall then to her attire. “You will have
to wear something warm.”

Her green eyes brightened and she nodded
happily. “I will!”

“You actually enjoy riding with us,” he said
with a laugh as the realization dawned on him.

“Of course I do,” she replied.

“You don’t mind the stink of wolf?”

She scowled and tried to remember ever
smelling a
stink
. “Wolves stink?”

He laughed shortly and shook his head. “The
moon rises at six-fifteen, so we’d better leave at four, just to be
safe.”

“When does the moon set?”

“Not until five in the morning. Are you sure
you want to do this?”

She nodded eagerly, never more sure of
anything in her life.

At four sharp, she was ready. Tyson greeted
her in front of the house where the rest of the pack waited as
well. Jack, she guessed, was the brown, scraggly looking wolf and
Dawn the reddish gold, sleek one. Tyson pressed his nose into her
palm when she hesitated, remembering the onslaught of voices that
encumbered her when they were all together before.

“
Are you ready to ride, wolf girl?”
he asked and his was the only voice she could hear, but she could
sense the sharp edged excitement that lingered among the rest.

“Wolf girl?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m
ready if you are.”

He crouched down and she situated herself as
she always did when riding. At first the pack was relatively calm
and didn’t break into a vision distorting run as she thought they
probably would. Instead, they paced through the steppe, sticking to
what trees and shrub the sparse land offered. There was no sign of
other beings living anywhere near Tyson’s small home and they
wandered freely, if not cautiously.

As the sun began to sink and evening
approached, the excitement she sensed in them intensified and
spilled into her emotions. A dusky, rosy-purple hue painted the
horizon when the moon finally dared peek over the edge of the land.
She could feel their hair standing on end and their muscles tensing
in wonderful, dreaded anticipation. Words were lost to them as they
waited for the pale face of their heart’s desire to fully show
herself. When the final curve left the horizon, they shuddered in
unison as they suppressed the want to howl. Clara shuddered with
them, wondering why they suppressed the enticing music she heard in
their minds and longed to hear on the wind.

Callan snorted and panted, shaking his head
as he tried to ignore the words to the moon’s song. His chest
shuddered when he threw back his head and let out a long, drawn out
howl. The haunting sound carried through the clear night until
Tyson snarled and nipped at Callan’s backside, breaking the
enchantment.

“Why can’t you sing?” she whispered in his
ear.

“
We don’t want to draw attention from
other werewolves that might hear,”
he answered, making an
effort to clear his mind long enough to do so.

“
Run!”
Callan’s voice shot through
their thoughts and the rest agreed with such eagerness that their
words blared through Tyson’s mind.

“
Yes!”

“
Yes!”

“
Run!”

Their desire to run under the fair face of
their seductress was stronger than she could have even begun to
guess. They wanted to feel every bit of the light radiating from
the luminescent orb. They wanted to catch every ray, every beam on
their backs, to taste the light in their mouths, to drink of water
that reflected the moon’s glory. It was a race against time and
they waited for Tyson’s permission to begin.

Below her, his body tensed until she thought
she might confuse him for stone if she weren’t clinging to his
neck. He shot off, a shadow in the night, and the rest were on his
heels. They ran faster than she could comprehend and she clung
tightly to Tyson, squeezing her eyes shut all the while. She buried
her face in his dense, soft fur, but she did not miss out. Every
swelling emotion they felt was echoed through Tyson and she could
feel their unified joy—a joy so strong it threatened to rupture his
great heart. The exhilaration behind their burst of speed and
strength was unparalleled and she reveled in it until the night
died away.

The sun came to steal the moon’s glory,
forcing her to hide her face in shame. Vibrant pink colors hid the
moon’s final parting kiss and, just like that, the romp was over.
Tyson led them back and she sensed how exhausted they’d become with
the sudden departure of their moon.

They reached the house and her energy
drained as well. She’d clung so desperately to Tyson that her arms
and legs had become like ice. When she rolled off his back and
stood, all she could feel was bone grinding against bone until
shards of pain reminded her there was life after all. She did not
protest when Tyson offered to carry her. In fact, she pressed
closer to him. He dropped her to her feet at her door.

“Now you know,” he said, but she was not
sure which thing he meant, for she had learned much that night.

“Know what?”

“Why Jothram will come. Just as we cannot
resist the moon, he cannot resist you.”

Tears came into her eyes. Their wild,
untamed emotions were fresh in her still, and she could not fathom
being compared to the excruciating beauty of the moon. Tyson smiled
sadly and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “You are not a wolf
girl, are you? You are a moon girl.”

He took her face in his hands and pressed
his forehead to hers until they touched noses. She was sure he was
going to finally do what he continuously threatened and kiss her.
Just this once,
she pleaded in her mind and moved to stand
on tiptoe to better reach his lips. He took a shuddering breath and
released her, stepping back.

“It’s time to sleep, Moon Girl,” he
whispered then vanished from her, leaving her feeling cold. She
shivered and kicked off her shoes to crawl under the
bedclothes.

The blazing hot sun hit her square in the
face many hours later. It was late afternoon and the day seemed to
be scolding jealously after her late rendezvous with the night. Her
heart ached at the memory of Tyson’s touch as she fought with
herself about whether or not she should get out of bed. She gasped
in shock when she finally threw the covers off and found not only
Mesha curled up on the floor next to her bed, but Callan as well.
She touched their shoulders in turn and Mesha blinked sleepily
awake.

“You cannot sleep on the floor,” she
said.

Mesha huffed and jumped to her feet. Callan
hadn’t responded to Clara’s touch and Mesha had to push him. “What
are you doing in here? This is a girl’s room!”

He yawned and sat up to rest his back
against the frame of the bed. “This is not a girl’s room. It’s my
sister’s room.”

“Neither one of you should be sleeping on
the floor like that,” Clara pointed out, choosing to ignore her
brother’s jab. “If you insist on doing so, you better drag some
mattresses in or something.”

“Nah, we’re alright, sis,” Callan said with
a wave of his hand.

“I feel silly waking up to find people
sleeping on my floor when I enjoyed a nice rest in my bed.”

“I just came to check on you,” Callan said.
Clara glanced to her dresser. The flowers from the day before had
been swapped with fresh ones.