Magick Rising (57 page)

“It’s a simple combination lock, so I don’t have to worry about losing a

key. It’s easy enough to open when I have my wits about me, but the wolf

can’t manipulate the lock. And it wouldn’t know the combination if it

could.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling foolish. But it was odd that he referred to the

wolf as another being outside himself. “When does it start and end? Your

transformation, I mean.”

“It begins right after sundown when the moon achieves its full strength,

and lasts until sunup.” He smiled wryly. “Don’t worry—you won’t have to

watch all night. Just the change. If you can stand it.”

Ignoring his pessimism, she asked, “What about your clothes? Do you

have to take them off to keep them from tearing?” Not that she’d object to

seeing him naked again, but it was very cold out here in the garage.

“No. I don’t know what happens to them while I’m in wolf form, but

they’re there when I turn back into a man.”

Well, that was a relief, knowing she wouldn’t be naked and vulnerable

when she became a werewolf.

And, suddenly, before she was ready, it was time.

Duncan locked himself in the cage and stood in the center, legs wide

apart and fists held clenched by his side. There was a fatalistic expression on

his face, yet his body screamed defiance.

It was getting dark outside now, so Beth turned on the overhead light,

not wanting him to say she shirked her duty by missing any nuance of the

transformation.

As he captured her gaze with his, she felt sudden compassion. The pain

in his eyes echoed in her heart.

A strange wind whispered through the garage.
Give in, be miiiiine . . .

“Never,” he said. But it came out more like an animal growl—certainly

nothing she had heard come out of any human throat.

Then darkness fell. The sun was down, and in the light of the full moon,

the transformation began.

Horrified, yet compelled to watch, Beth saw Duncan jerk, and a

shudder ran through him. As she took an involuntary step backward, he

tensed, taut as a bowstring as a red hazy shimmer surrounded him. Through

his tight jaw came a moaning sound. “Nooo.” The wail of protest, fear and

pain stabbed through her heart.

Coarse hair sprouted on his face and every spot where she could see

bare skin. She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to keep in the

scream.
Dear Goddess, this is really happening.

Crossing his fists over his chest, he bowed his head and veins bulged on

his arms as he strained to fight the change.

Beth’s breathing grew more shallow as she struggled to suppress her

fear and horror. How could he stand it?

He sank to his knees, panting heavily, his face twisted in agony. Then

another ripple passed through him, and he fell to all fours, claws ripping out

through his fingers. Duncan bellowed in rage as his back arched, his legs

shortened, and the front of his mouth elongated into a snout.

Beth took another step back. His high-pitched shriek of agony was

torture to listen to. Imagine how it must
feel
. She wanted to leave, get as far

away from this as possible. But she had promised to stay there for the whole

thing, so stay she would.

And with one last yowl of desperation that turned into a mournful

howl, the transformation was complete, and the shimmer disappeared.

There, in front of her, stood a large black wolf. Not just large—huge.

He must weigh as much as Duncan did. There was no way anyone could

mistake this creature for something natural. Not with his immense size and

especially not with his spooky silver eyes. Eyes that bored into her with an

intense, feral stare.

Beth took another cautious step backward, toward the door. As if it

were a sign, the wolf suddenly bared its fangs and leapt, snarling, toward

her—just like the wolf in her vision.

She jerked back, heart pounding. But as she scrabbled for the

doorknob, she saw that the wolf had stopped a mere inch from the silver

bars.

Duncan might not be at home behind those silver eyes, but the wolf

was no fool. No doubt it had had a bad experience with these bars before.

And though they had seemed so sturdy earlier, now they suddenly seemed

weak, ineffectual.

It reminded her that this wolf was still a dangerous predator, no matter

how secure the cage. And the wolf continued to glare at her with its head

lowered, fangs bared, hackles rising, and a menacing growl emanating from

its throat.

It was unnerving, frightening—more than anything she’d ever

encountered in her life. With a gasp, Beth broke away from its gaze and held

a protective hand to her throat. There was no need to stay any longer. She

had seen the transformation—she could leave now.

With a yank on the doorknob, she shot out of the garage and scurried

for the dubious protection of the house. Once inside the warmth and light

of her home, she leaned against the door, trembling, trying to calm the

pounding of her heart and her ragged breathing.

Good grief, maybe Duncan was right. Could she be strong enough to

go through
that
three times a month, every month, for the rest of her life?

The answer came immediately. Yes. Yes, she could. For the chance to

have a healthy life, to grow old, she would tolerate far worse. Hell, the

mental anguish she suffered throughout her battle with Huntington’s was

almost as bad. And if she had to put up with some pain along with it to get

what she wanted, she could live with that. She might never be able to get rid

of the lurking fear that came with the transformation, but she would endure.

Feeling a little better, she released her death grip on the doorknob and

locked the door. It might not stop the wolf if it somehow got loose, but it

made her feel better.

Now what? Was she just expected to calmly go to bed and sleep . . . as if

nothing out of the ordinary had happened? She couldn’t. Not when there

was a huge savage beast in her garage, pacing the small confines of its cage,

looking for a way out. Besides, she had to do something with the adrenaline

that had taken over her body. Why not a ritual?

The very thought calmed her. Yes, she would ask for help in convincing

Duncan to do as she asked. But as she ran through the possibilities in her

mind, she realized that the kinder deities wouldn’t do, especially not since

she felt so edgy, so out of sorts. Only Lupa would be able to help her.

Now that Beth had made up her mind, she prepared for the ritual

automatically, putting her full concentration on the task at hand as she

thought about the best way of making her plea. She went through the

familiar opening steps of the ritual, offered her own blood in payment, and

asked Lupa to appear.

In elation, Beth soon felt the feral, sensual presence arrive.

What would you have of me now?
Lupa asked.

Gathering her resolve, Beth said firmly, “I wish to be like Duncan. I

wish to be a wolf.”

The unseen presence prowled around her, raising the fine hairs on the

back of Beth’s neck.

So. What makes you think you are worthy? You with your tainted genes?

“I’m not worthy,” Beth admitted. “But I want to be. I want to change

my tainted genes. Show me how.”

Warmth oozed caressingly up her arm, circled around her shoulders.

You know how . . .

“Yes, I do,” Beth said in frustration. She had to convince Duncan that

being a werewolf wasn’t the end of his existence. “But I can’t force Duncan

to believe me.”

Ah, the man-wolf. Yes, he is a stubborn one.

The sensual warmth continued to pulse in ribbons around Beth.

Vibrant and alive, tantalizingly so, it played with her, like a puppy with a

chew toy. Trying to ignore the distraction, Beth asked, “How can I convince

him?”

The warmth paused then curled around her neck, tightening.
You cannot.

He is alpha. He must embrace all it means to be alpha and surrender to the wolf within.

Refusing to give in to fear, Beth spoke around the constriction at her

throat. “I tried to convince him. You know I did.”

The pressure intensified then suddenly disappeared.
Perhaps. But you must

try harder.
The warmth swirled around her, frantic now.
The only way you can

achieve your heart’s desire is through him. The only way he can achieve his is by giving in.

If he doesn’t, you will both die.

With that, the warmth and the prowling presence vanished, leaving

Beth bereft. Silent tears streamed down her face, testament to the pain in her

heart. The answer was no good. The only way for her to become healthy was

for Duncan to give in to the wolf . . . and that would never happen.

DUNCAN WOKE IN a fetal position, with a familiar bone-deep ache and

equally familiar shame. Every time the change happened, he tried to fight it,

hoping he could hold it at bay for a little while longer. But, as always, he had

failed . . . and it ripped away another small piece of his soul. But he was alive

for another day. That was something, anyway.

Other sensations impinged on his awareness. The painfully cold steel

floor of the cage, the brightening dawn, and the scent of someone nearby.

Beth.

He raised his head to see her sitting on a chair near the side door,

watching him with her arms wrapped around herself. But though there were

dark circles under her eyes, her expression was carefully blank, and he

couldn’t read her reaction.

Rising to his feet, he asked, “Have you been there all night?”

“No. Just an hour or so. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d . . .”

She trailed off, and he wondered bitterly how she had planned to

complete that sentence. She thought she’d what? Take another look at the

animal in the zoo? He glared at her through the bars. “Enjoy the show?”

Not waiting for a response, he crossed to the door of the cage and

fumbled with the combination lock. But his fingers were stiff with cold, so

he stuck his hands in his armpits for a moment to warm them.

Beth watched him with that blank expression. “Why was the change

back so much less painful?”

“What do you mean?”

“It didn’t seem to hurt you much. In fact, it happened while you were

asleep. One minute you were a wolf, then the sun rose, you shimmered, and

suddenly you were there in human form.”

He shrugged. “Never thought about it. Maybe the wolf doesn’t feel

pain. I don’t know, because I don’t remember any of my time as a wolf.”

His fingers warm now, Duncan opened the lock and stepped outside.

Beth scrambled to her feet and moved closer to the door with a wary

expression.

He grimaced. He knew it would happen. She feared him even more

now that she had seen the beast he became. Glad that she had apparently

given up on her crazy idea to become a werewolf, he was nevertheless sad

that she would never come near him again.

“It’s okay,” he growled. “I’m safe enough . . . until the moon rises

again.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just that I—”

“Can’t handle it?” He refrained from saying he’d told her so. With an

impatient gesture, he asked, “Why are you here, anyway? Morbid curiosity?”

“I’m not sure . . .” She paused, then added, “When I didn’t hear

anything out here, I wondered if you were still here.”

“And you came out to see if the wolf had gotten loose?” he asked

incredulously. “Are you insane?”

Her brows snapped together, and she frowned. “You seemed safe

enough last night, in the cage.”

Was she nuts? He slammed the door of the cage and took a couple of

steps toward her. “Really? How long did you stay last night?” He had no

idea. Once the change began, his entire being was focused on battling the

transformation, and he remembered nothing. Nothing but the struggle, a

red shimmering haze, and incredible pain.

“Did you last beyond the first nanosecond?” he asked as he strode

toward her, knowing he looked menacing yet unable and unwilling to hold

back.

“I saw it all,” she whispered as she backed against the door, her eyes

wide.

He sneered. “Did you enjoy it?”

She seemed to regain some of her composure. “No, of course not.”

Good. She’d be one sick puppy if she had.

She straightened a little. “Look, let’s talk about this over breakfast, shall

we? It’s cold out here.”

He nodded curtly, eager to leave the scene of his humiliation, even

more so since Beth had witnessed it. He followed her into her home and

immediately slammed his barriers up. It would be too easy to be sucked in by

the warmth and contentment her kitchen made him feel, to let himself

believe things could work out. This house was seductive.

Even Beth looked more relaxed now. But he didn’t want her to be,

damn it. Didn’t want her to think being around a wolf could be comfortable