A Shift in the Water (13 page)

“Look at him. Does he look wild to you?” Mara knelt and scratched the wolf behind the ears. He pressed closer to her.

“He looks like he’d kill anyone who tried to hurt you.”

Mara laughed. “Well, you’ve got that right. But you’re not going to hurt me so you’re safe. You probably
do
want to sit down,” she said. “Let me make you some coffee. We need to talk before we go to the hospital.”

While the coffee beans ground and the water heated, she filled a bowl with a mix of beef and bison and set it on the ground for the wolf. He dug in greedily, slurping and chomping loudly. Mara set the steaming mug in front of her aunt and sat down at the table with her. “Someone broke into my house last night.”

“What?” Lillian slammed her coffee cup down. The wolf looked up and cocked his head, but when Mara smiled at him, he went back to eating. Mara laid her hand over Lillian’s. Pale, wrinkled, paper-thin skin covered bony, fragile hands. Lil had aged a decade since Mara had gotten sick. She was doing too much: shopping, driving her to appointments, even cleaning her house. Clasping her aunt’s hands tightly, Mara forced brightness into her voice.

“The wolf chased him away. He protected me. You see? He’s not going to hurt me. I can’t explain it, but he’s not normal. I think he understands me, and he’s definitely been domesticated somehow.” The wolf finished his breakfast and sat next to Mara. He watched Lillian keenly, but his body was relaxed and calm and he laid his head on Mara’s thigh.

Lillian glared at Mara. “You’re movin’ in with me. You’re not stayin’ here another night.”

“I’m
fine
here. Especially now. I feel better today than I have in months and I only got about four hours of sleep last night. I’m not even sure that I need a transfusion today. I’ll go, because it’s today or wait until Monday, but I really feel pretty good. And this is my home. I’m staying until I can’t take care of myself any longer. The wolf—he saved my life last night.”

“You do look better,” Lillian mused. “Look. I’m not happy about him,” she said, gesturing to the wolf. “But as long as you don’t expect me to take him in when . . .”

“When I die. You can say it, you know. I’ve accepted it. Despite my little outburst last night. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who has.”

Lillian looked uncomfortable. “You’re so your mama’s daughter. That was her way, you know. That directness. Fine. As long as I don’t have to take him in when you die, I can’t stop you. But if he ends up attackin’ you and killin’ you, I’m gonna come hunt you down in the afterlife and kick yer ass.”

Mara laughed. She wrapped her arm around the wolf and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You’ll win her over.”

Lillian drove Mara to the hospital and stayed with her while she donated a pint of blood for study. When the transfusion needle entered her arm, she lay back and closed her eyes. Lillian prattled on the entire time, telling her stories of Mara’s mother. Mara nodded and made various noises of acknowledgment when it was required, but her mind was elsewhere. Would this be the day that the doctor told her the transfusions were failing? For the past several months, she’d gradually felt worse and worse, but ever since she’d spent the night on Orcas, she’d had periods of time when she felt great and then other bouts where she felt truly horrible. The last few days had been so odd. Her body couldn’t make up its mind and the constant hammering of her emotions wasn’t helping.

“Mara?” Doctor Pendergast’s deep voice roused her from her reverie.

Her eyes flew open. “Goddess, doc. Are you psychic? I was wondering if I’d see you today.”

Lillian took her hand. The doctor coming to see her in the transfusion center couldn’t be good. Mara forced a smile. Doctor Pendergast pulled up a thin plastic chair next to the two women, flipped open a folder, and shook his head. “Mara, I don’t know how to explain it, but your red blood cell numbers improved this week. Not by a lot, but we’ve seen a marked decrease every time we’ve transfused you until today. You’ve got a three percent improvement since last week.”

Mara grinned. “That’s good, yes? I feel a little better. Ever since I got back from Orcas, I’ve felt better.”

“How long has this been going on? This feeling better?” The doctor scribbled in her chart.

“Two days before Thanksgiving. I went for a couple of long swims and then . . . I sort of adopted a dog.” Mara blushed and looked sheepishly at Lillian. The older woman huffed out a breath, but said nothing. “When I feel bad now, it’s truly horrible, like I can barely focus, but as long as I stay hydrated and relax, I feel better than I have in a few months.”

“Well, whatever you’ve been doing, keep doing it. It’s the twenty-ninth today. I don’t want to see you back here for a transfusion until December ninth unless you feel you need it. Come back on the fifth for a blood draw and we’ll check your numbers. If we see the same sort of improvement again, we’ll try for two weeks. Okay?” Doctor Pendergast’s lined face relaxed as he smiled.

“You’ve got it!” If it hadn’t been for the needle in her arm, Mara would have jumped up and hugged the doctor. Her cheeks ached from the width of her smile and she felt lighter than she had in weeks. She was going to buy the wolf some filet mignon on her way home. Maybe she’d buy enough for both of them.

The wolf paced Mara’s home most of the day. He wanted to know where she was. She made him feel better. Why did his body burn inside? He couldn’t remember. The bad woman did something to him.
Charm.
Werewolf. Elemental.
More words floated in and out of his consciousness with each passing day. What had started as a single word—
beautiful
—now turned into fragmented thoughts and broken sentences. Every time Mara spoke to him, a little more cut through the fog. He paced until exhaustion covered him like a blanket and he curled up on the couch to wait for her.

When she came home, she smelled like antiseptic and blood. The wolf didn’t like those scents. He stretched out on her living room floor while she watched a movie with the older woman who’d come earlier. The woman kept looking at him warily. The wolf was happy when the woman left. Mara fed him something delicious—something even better than whatever he’d had for breakfast—and scratched him behind the ears. He liked it when she did that.

Darkness fell and Mara told him all about the police officer’s visit, the man he’d chased, and her doctor’s appointment. He liked that even more. He felt like a man when she talked to him, even though many of the words were still gibberish to him. Someday, he’d find the humanity he’d lost. Someday he’d hold her in his arms, speak to her, and tell her how much she meant to him.

Despite his desperation to escape his wolf, he was almost happy he couldn’t talk yet. He didn’t want Mara to know what he had done after the intruder had hurt her. With his long, lean body, he’d caught up to the man easily, sailing over a hedge to slam into the man’s back. The
pop
of the man’s spine sounded like a champagne cork flying from its bottle. He’d howled in pain. The wolf grabbed the man’s black pants in his jaws and flipped him.

The wolf didn’t care for the man’s desperate pleas for his life. His strong jaws closed over the man’s neck. He could rip the man’s throat out in a heartbeat. But Mara was already worried that someone would take him away from her. A wolf wasn’t exactly legal. She’d patiently explained that to him; why she thought he’d understand he couldn’t figure out. But he had.

So instead, he’d released the man and then he ran. He ran for miles, down towards a lake, around it, up a hill so high he could see the horizon with its gentle glow at sunrise. The anger drained out of him the farther he pushed his body. No longer starved and beaten, he relished in the power his muscles generated, letting the adrenaline soothe his worry. Someone had tried to hurt the woman who was nice to him. His Mara. He’d turned back at the thought, needing her next to him like he needed his next breath.
Elemental.
Break charm. Man.
Panic gripped him. He was too far away and he couldn’t smell her any more. He tried retracing his steps, and when he picked up her scent, the scents he’d come to associate with her house and her yard, he cried in relief.

In her sleep, she twitched and made tiny mewls. Her fingers fisted in the blankets. The wolf pressed his body close to hers. Her water element seeped into him and eased some of the pain from the fire that kept him prisoner.

He had to figure out how to tell her. She could free him. He knew it.

Mara lived the next few days to their fullest. Officer Denton came to deliver the news that the intruder had been arrested and had confessed to his crimes. Mara hid the wolf in her bathroom and claimed that he hadn’t returned. Apparently the man said that the dog had nearly killed him, but as there were no marks on his skin besides the puncture wounds on his leg, Officer Denton told her that he didn’t need to search her house for the
husky
. He’d winked at her then, and Mara barely resisted the urge to hug the man.  

She swam for more than an hour each day, went out for coffee with Jen, cleaned all of the fingerprint dust and debris from her house, and decorated for Christmas. The window installers came and fixed her broken window. She stayed awake longer than a few hours at a time. She felt hopeful for the first time in months.

Through it all, the wolf stayed close. He slept on her bed at night and spent the days hunting small birds in her yard and following her around the house. There was something about him that nagged at her. He’d gained at least twenty pounds, his pelt was sleek and full, and all of the patches that had been burned or scraped raw had healed nicely. His eyes were bright and intelligent. He had a few dozen vocalizations that she’d learned.
Yes. No. Outside. Hungry. Thirsty. Want. Sleep.
There was even one that she thought meant
please
. He was docile and submissive with her, but there was a strength about him that didn’t mesh with such meek behavior.

A week after Thanksgiving, Mara came home late with a bag of groceries and a Christmas tree. She set the tree up in her living room. The wolf sat by her side as she draped lights on the five-foot-tall tree and added a few ornaments. She was tired today. She’d had lunch with Jen and Aunt Lillian and then had taken herself to the movies. Halfway through the previews she fell asleep. Still, she dragged herself to the store to get the wolf some more bison. She’d barely made it out of the store without collapsing and had needed a half-hour nap in the car in the Whole Foods parking lot.

Every ornament weighed ten pounds. She’d overdone it. While the Christmas music trailed on, the wolf sniffed her often and whined.

“You know I don’t feel well, don’t you?” she asked. He yipped at her in agreement. Mara shook her head. “You’re more communicative than my last boyfriend. I feel like you’re more man than wolf.”

The wolf’s head snapped up and he barked, loudly. Mara cocked her head. “That was a new sound. What was that for?”

The wolf whined desperately and barked again. Mara took a step towards him but her knees buckled.

“Goddess.” She sank down onto her couch. The wolf watched her. “I’m sicker than I thought.” Tears pricked at her eyes. She bent over and rested her head in her hands to stop the room spinning. Her breath wheezed a little, her limbs sluggish as she braced her hands on her coffee table and tried to stand.