Make Me Howl (33 page)

Apparently Doc didn’t notice, because he didn’t seem surprised. Or maybe he knew more about werewolves than I realized.

“Do you mind going by my house before I take you home?” he asked.

“Not at all.” I couldn’t figure why he’d want to go to his house, but I didn’t mind. We drove most of the way in silence.

When we finally got there, he pulled into his driveway but not the garage. This time, we went in the front door. The house wasn’t decorated for Christmas, which didn’t surprise me, but there was a gift with a huge red bow lying on his pool table. I followed him to the table. His gaze held mine as he handed it to me. “Merry Christmas.”

My heart lost some of its buoyancy. The box was long and flat—definitely not a coin necklace, but I forced myself to smile anyway. Carrying the box with me, I walked over and sat on one of his recliners.

Doc knelt beside the chair—I guess so he could see the look on my face as I opened it.

Very slowly I slid the ribbon off the package at one end then pulled the tape loose. Turning the box, I released the tape on the other end, then on the back.

“I didn’t know anyone could take so long opening a present. Especially at Christmas.”

“It’s always been a contest between Bella and me. Who could go the slowest? Bella usually wins.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” He shook his head as he gave me a sexy half smile. “But it does surprise me that you don’t just blow that contest off and tear through it.”

“Oh, I can do that, too.”

I ripped the lid off the box and tore out the tissue paper. There inside, in a very expensive frame, was an antique poster from the 1935 version of the movie,
Call of the Wild.
And it had been autographed by both Clark Gable and Loretta Young.

Then it hit me.
Call of the Wild.
I started laughing, delighted that he’d found such a gift for me. “Where in the world did you find this?”

“Family heirloom.” He got off his knees and sat in the adjacent recliner. “My granddad was the veterinarian on that movie. He made sure that there were ‘no animals harmed in the making of this film.’“

“Don’t you think you should keep it in the family?” I asked, shocked that he would give away such a treasure.

His smile grew slowly, his gaze kindling. “We have other heirlooms from his stint in with Hollywood. I just thought you’d enjoy that one.”

I leaned the poster against the chair, careful to keep it from falling. “It’s me, all right.”

With a move I didn’t see coming, he reached out, grabbed my hand and yanked me into his lap. His kiss made my head reel as I settled my body against his. I could have spent years getting used to that seat, and loved every minute of it.

He ended the kiss—I could have kept it going all night—and whispered in my ear, “You know, tomorrow night is the waxing moon.”

Talk about a crash to reality. I hid my face in his shoulder for a moment, wishing I could hide as easily from what I would face the next night.

I would have to find the neophyte or let him find me. And I would have to stop him. I only hoped I was up to the task.

Doc went on. “We’ll have to post patrols to lookout for this guy, whoever he is.”

I straightened, slid off his lap and moved to the other chair. “No.”

He looked startled, but I’m not sure if that was from my answer or me leaving his lap. “What do you mean? He’s dangerous, and he has to be stopped.”

“I know he’s dangerous, but I’m the one who’s going to stop him. With patrols, you’d just have more people getting hurt. And possibly infected.”

His face hardened. “You think you can—”

“I
know
I can.” Not that I did, really, but he couldn’t know that. And he couldn’t know that I’d tried to stop this phyter before and failed. I had to make him believe I could take care of it.

“All right.” He got out of his chair and walked to the door, where he waited while I grabbed my poster and followed.

All the way back to my apartment, he didn’t say a word. After trying to start a conversation a few times, I gave up, too.

The drive took longer than normal, or at least it seemed so to me. When we got there, he carried my bags to my door, but refused my invitation to come inside.

When he left, and I was alone, and filled with a sense of loss greater than I’d ever experienced in my life.

I locked the door and went to the bathroom for a long, hot soak. When I finished, I wrapped up in my oldest, most comfortable robe and crashed on the couch, my heart in too much chaos to sleep.

I pulled out Grandma’s journal, and read until my eyes were grainy. Just as I was ready to put it away and get some sleep, I read about a love Grandma had before Grandpa. A love with another werewolf. The inner-connection she wrote about had been so deep, so pure it was painful to read even after so many years. For several weeks, the young woman, Grandma, had spilled her love for Charlton onto the page. Her absolute surety that he was her life mate was there in the faded ink.

But something happened. Grandma hadn’t spelled it out in the diary, but there was a gap of several days, then,
June 3
rd
—Charlton has been called away. An emergency, he says. But I’m not sure. I know there’s no emergency that could force me away from him.

Several more days had been skipped.
June 8
th
—I haven’t heard from Charlton except for one letter telling me he’d reached his destination. It’s been two weeks. I’m sure his family would let me know if he was ill or hurt. Am I so easily displaced from his mind? His heart?

June 15
th
—I got a letter today from Charlton. It’s cold, so impersonal. I know he’s busy, but…

There were a few entries about normal day to day life.
June 27
th
—A letter from Charlton. He’ll be gone for at least six more months. Six! And he hasn’t mentioned a word about me coming to be with him even once. The rest of his life means more to him than I do. Even more than our love, which he hasn’t mentioned once in any letter he’s sent me.

I can’t go on this way

July 3
rd
—I’ve decided I’m going to write to him. Tell him exactly how I feel. Even the humiliation I’d experience if he told me he was mistaken, that he didn’t love me at all, would be better that the hell I’m living in now.

With the letter I’m sending him the gold coin he had set in a necklace for me. Surely when he sees it he’ll realize how upset I am. I’m lost. Frightened.

And finally,
July 24
th
—He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t say it in the letter exactly, but it’s there, between the lines. “Your love, so much deeper. Could mine ever match it? I don’t…” But I won’t burden him with mine any longer.

I’ll end it now with the Tumuld Argamelino.

So she’d constructed a hedge to protect her heart, and described it in detail. She’d built a small fire during the dark of the moon. Sitting before it, she’d placed on it small bundles of lavender. With each addition, she’d named an attribute that had made her love him. At the end, she’d added the most precious thing he’d given her. A locket with his picture in it—his gift of the heart.

Could
I live my life, loving a man who disapproved of not only who but what I was? A man whose entire goal for his life was to wipe out what I loved most about mine? No. And I
wouldn’t
spend it making love with someone who was so controlled he was a silent, uninvolved lover.

I knew what I had to do. But where would I get dried lavender?

Then I remembered Bella had packed a box of it for me. Was that the reason Grandma had grown the plant all those years? As a remembrance of the protection she’d built to block her love? Or the man who’d caused her to do it?

I found the box where Doc had left it when he brought me home, just inside the door, and carried it back to the fireplace.

Sitting cross-legged, I built a small fire then turned off the gas jets. The flames were clear and bright. Almost hypnotic.

I pulled off strips of tape and opened the box. After tossing the tissue aside, I took out the first bundle and gazed at it. The stems were brittle, the green had changed to gray, and I knew if I shook it very hard, the heads would scatter.

Did I want to do this? According to Grandma, a hedge once built couldn’t be torn down. My love would be obliterated. Forever.

I drew a breath, shaky and thick with tears. “I love Doc for his humor.” Steeling myself, I threw the plant into the fire where it burned brightly for a moment, the dusty fragrance filling the room. Would I ever smell that scent again without my heart aching, even a little?

“His compassion for animals as well as humans.” Another sweet-smelling packet went in.

“His smile and the light that sparkles in his eyes.”

I continued, naming everything I loved about Doc. Everything that made me hot for him. Everything about him that made me smile.

When I’d finished, all the lavender was gone. I picked up the discarded tissue and threw it in. Then took the poster from the frame, rolled it into a long tube and laid it on the fire. Tears burned my eyes and nose. My throat thickened until I could barely draw a breath, but I had to finish. “I destroy my heart. I burn my tender emotions. I incinerate all the love, the joy, the wonder, even though it reduces to ashes the heart in me. Kapoia bavatoo. Kapoia bavatoo. Kapoia bavatoo.” By the last words, I could barely whisper, but by then I couldn’t cry. All I could do was stare at the flames.

It took a moment for the poster’s old paper to catch. It smoked heavily, charred and caught fire with a
whoof
! I stared until the beautiful old poster was burned up. And I stayed there, watching until the entire fire died down and was nothing but a pile of cold ashes. With my heart now dead, I didn’t feel like getting up and doing anything. I didn’t care to unpack, put away Christmas gifts or even make a cup of tea.

For some reason, the construction of the wall around my heart made what I had facing me the next night just a bit easier. I now knew one thing—as of that night, there would be one less werewolf in the world.

But whether it would be a neophyte or Syzygian, I couldn’t be sure.

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning dawned clear. I still lay on the couch, still wide awake. Finally I turned on the TV. The weatherman sounded as if the storm out west would soon be clearing. That meant the roads would be passable before too long.

I just hoped that didn’t mean Bella would be home before moonrise. I didn’t want her to worry about me when I went out that night. And I didn’t want her here if anything happened.

She couldn’t help, and she’d only blame herself. I could almost hear her—
If I hadn’t taken that job, she wouldn’t have been around when the phyter started his rampage. It’s all my fault.

Just imagining her whine made me want to smash something of hers. To be honest, I’d rather be dead than listen to her wailing about it.

My bizarre thought pattern was so strange I couldn’t help but laugh, which lightened my inner turmoil enough to snuggle down for a quick nap.

I slept away the entire morning, then got up and dressed in black sweats for the night. Just as I was about to leave to get something for a late lunch, there was a knock on my door. Slowly I opened it and gazed at the man standing there.

Doc.

Just to be sure my ritual had worked, I tested my heart as he stepped close for a quick hug.

Nothing.

Inside me was as cold and dead as the remains of last night’s fire—with the same potential for resurrection.

Doc had a look of permanent worry clouding his face. “Have you eaten?”

“No. And I could eat a horse.” I kept the tone in my voice light.

He lost the worried look and smiled. “Not at my zoo, you don’t. But I’ll see if I can find something for you on the way.”

“Steak will do.” We went back to Pete’s and I ate the best steak of my life, which I realized was possibly my last meal. It was so rare the juices ran red, clear and delicious.

“Have you heard from your folks?” Doc asked as we waited for the check.

“No. But the phone service is usually slower coming back than electricity out there.”

He looked as if he’d expected as much. “Bad cell service?”

“I guess people out there don’t use cell phones. Or else they use a different company than we do.” I was quiet as the waitress brought the check and Doc tossed down his credit card. “But I saw on TV that the weather should clear up out there in a day or two.”

“Then they should be home in three.”

If we were lucky, that would be after the waning moon. “Did you check on Tony today?”

He nodded, a smile easing some of the worry lines. “Yeah. With your blood, I was able to make a serum that worked. I injected him before I came to get you. I think he’ll be okay.”

Relief spread through me, giving me a small measure of success. At least in my life, I’d been of some help.

As we left the restaurant, the sun hung low in the sky, the colors around us changing to pastel. My heart thumped as I realized how late it was. “We’ve got to hurry. The moon will rise soon.”

The worry creasing his face hardened until he looked grim. I was just glad he wasn’t psychic and seeing something in my future that he didn’t want to tell me about.