Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 (37 page)

BOOK: Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2
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I didn’t want to get into the specifics or speculation as to the possibilities of a wolf/wizard baby, so I asked, “How is the CLS cure going? I heard that the Lycanthrope Council approved it but you’re stuck in the FDA.”

Leo shrugged. “As expected, they’re getting caught up on the non-medical aspect of it. It’s kind of hard to describe blood magic in scientific terms in the procedure section and explain why only one person can do it.” He inclined his head toward Max.

Max bowed slightly. “I wish it could be more, but it corrupts too easily. I would have to find another wizard with the strength to resist the temptation to use it for more than good, like trapping the soul of a loved one here until they can find a new vessel.”

I shivered at the memory of Deirdre trying to take over my body, and Max squeezed my shoulders.

A knock on the door startled us, and Leo got up to answer it.

“We’re not looking for a butler,” he said to whoever was at the door with a slight growl in his voice.

“That’s random.” Joanie frowned. “I wonder who it could be.”

Leo came into the room followed by someone I thought had disappeared: Gabriel McCord, former butler and almost lover to Joanie, and the man who helped me indulge my animal side the morning after my first change. My cheeks heated at the recollection. I could now access all of the memories of the time around my transformation, although I tried not to dwell on it too much.

“Gabriel?” Joanie asked.

He bent to kiss her cheek and admire the baby. “You look well.”

Introductions were made all around. Leo offered him a Scotch and gestured for him to take a seat in the armchair farthest away from Joanie.

“I apologize for interrupting this cozy scene,” Gabriel said. “But I’ve been trying to get a hold of Miss Marconi, and I happened to be in the area.”

“Yeah, being with an energy wizard is hell on cell phone batteries,” I said and held up mine, which was off most of the time now.

“What do you need with her?” Max asked. He knew what had happened between me and Gabriel, but he accepted our one-time dalliance was a result of a new werewolf not being in control of her urges and didn’t seem threatened.

Gabriel crossed an ankle over one knee and frowned like he was trying to figure out how to phrase something important. It was strange to see him sitting still. He’d been constantly in motion with his duties the previous summer. It occurred to me that being the butler had allowed him to hide in plain sight, and we actually didn’t know anything substantial about him.

“You’re not really a butler or a professional research subject, are you?” I asked.

“No, I’m on the Lycanthrope Council,” Gabriel said. “Always have been. As the youngest member, I have the pleasure of investigating strange or unusual lycanthropic matters throughout the world.”

“You lied to us?” Joanie asked. “I suspected something when you disappeared.” Leo put his arm around her and raised his chin. The meaning of the gesture was clear—he came back and claimed her.

Gabriel inclined his head. “I had a lot of reporting back to do, particularly on the new strain of lycanthropy from the tainted vaccines, or what you refer to as CLS.”

“I knew we had to have attracted some attention, but you’d insinuated yourself into my grandfather’s household even before the fire and all the news around it,” Joanie said. “How did they know?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Blame the Internet. Somebody saw something suspicious and talked about a pack of talking wolves on a Bigfoot site. We’d watched your grandfather for years prior to that report but didn’t intervene, as long as he was a lone wolf because that happens every so often. When the others arrived, however…”

“You had to do something,” I finished for him. “A new werewolf pack would have attracted unwanted wizardly attention.”

“You’re quite right. So fast forward to last month, when the Council received your letter, Miss Marconi—”

“That’s Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna,” Max said.

“Oh, congratulations.” He raised his Scotch to us. “This bloke seems much nicer than that Peter prick. Anyway, the Council reviewed your letter and agreed there needs to be some sort of support for the new werewolves, either to help them adjust to their new situation or to return to their former state. Considering Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna’s background in social work, they have invited her to head up that effort.”

“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t think they’d take me seriously.”

“They feel that, as a
vargamore
and with your background, you would have the best chance of calming new wolves, helping them make rational decisions about whether to accept their new state or reverse it, and then steering them to the proper resources. They just want to know whether you will be the first subject once the cure goes into clinical trials.”

Max’s concern showed in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell if he was afraid I’d say yes or no.

“No,” I said, and he relaxed. “I’ve decided to embrace all my sides, and I’m willing to help others to do so as well. Or to transition back.”

“Excellent.” Gabriel slugged the rest of his Scotch back and stood. “Then I shall leave you to your gathering and report back to the Council.”

“It sounds like you have a new job,” Leo said after he saw Gabriel out. “You’re going to be busy. Iain sends me emails about new cases daily.”

“She won’t be doing it alone,” Max told her. “She has me.”

“And she’ll have us as well,” Joanie added.

“And me,”
Wolf-Lonna added. She appeared and put her head on my knee.

“Do you think you can handle being part of a werewolf pack?” I asked Max.

“I already am,” he replied, and his kiss erased any doubt I might have had.

For the first time since I’d been changed, I felt comfortable with who and what I was. I looked around at my friends and husband—my pack.
Perhaps I’ll get my happily ever after.

Wolf-Lonna wagged her tail and expressed what I’d already thought deep inside.

“You already have.”

About the Author

Cecilia Dominic wrote her first story when she was two years old and has always had a much more interesting life inside her head than outside of it. She became a clinical psychologist because she’s fascinated by people and their stories, but she couldn’t stop writing fiction. The first draft of her dissertation, while not fiction, was still criticized by her major professor for being written in too entertaining a style. She made it through graduate school and got her PhD, started her own practice, and by day, she helps people cure their insomnia without using medication. By night, she blogs about wine and writes fiction she hopes will keep her readers turning the pages all night. Yes, she recognizes the conflict of interest between her two careers, so she writes and blogs under a pen name. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with one husband and two cats, which, she’s been told, is a good number of each.

 

You can find her at:

Web page:
www.ceciliadominic.com
 

Wine blog:
www.randomoenophile.com
 

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/CeciliaDominicAuthor
 

Twitter:
@RandomOenophile

Look for these titles by Cecilia Dominic

Now Available:

 

The Lycanthropy Files

The Mountain’s Shadow

Some mistakes can literally come back to bite you.

 

The Mountain’s Shadow

© 2013 Cecilia Dominic

 

The Lycanthropy Files, Book 1

First it was ADD. Then pediatric bipolar. Now the hot behavioral disorder in children is CLS, or Chronic Lycanthropy Syndrome. Public health researcher Joanie Fisher was closing in on the cause in hopes of finding a treatment until a lab fire and an affair with her boss left her without a job.

When her grandfather leaves her his multimillion-dollar estate in the Ozarks, though, she figures her luck is turning around. Except her inheritance comes with complications: town children who disappear during full moons, an irresistible butler, and a pack of werewolves who can’t seem to decide whether to frighten her or flirt with her.

Joanie’s research is the key to unraveling the mysteries of Wolfsbane Manor.
 
However, resuming her work means facing painful truths about her childhood, which could result in the loss of love, friendship, and the only true family she has left.

Warning: Some sexy scenes, although nothing explicit, and adult language. Also alcohol consumption and food descriptions that may wreck your diet.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Mountain’s Shadow:

“You’ll catch your death of cold out here.” The tone was mocking. I turned to see Leonard Bowman leaning against a lamppost. He wore a black leather jacket over an open green polo shirt and khaki trousers, and although his posture was relaxed, he seemed like a compressed spring ready to uncoil at any moment.

I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I just had a conversation with your brother.”

“Did he try to charm or threaten you?” A smile tugged at his lips, and I noticed he was the antithesis of his pale brother with his wavy dark brown hair and black eyes. More intense too. The image of him in Galbraith’s office came to mind.

“A little of both, but mostly threaten.”

“That’s usually how he works.”

“Leonard, there you are.” Her greeting and the staccato clicks of her black designer heels announced the appearance of a tall woman with emerald eyes. Her milk-white skin glowed in the half-light, and her black hair fell in soft curls to midway down her back. She, too, wore a light leather jacket, but underneath was a ruby red dress that left very little to the imagination. I couldn’t really see her purse, but I guessed it cost more than my car.

“Kyra Ellison, this is Joanie Fisher.”

“Doctor Joanie Fisher, actually.” I had to do something to get back on equal footing with this woman.

“Charmed.” She held her hand out for me to shake, but the limpness in her fingers told me she considered it—and me—a waste of time.

“Enjoy your evening,” I told them and half-turned to go, but then I made an about-face.

“Do you know where my friend and I could get dinner?” I asked.

“Well, we’re on our way to Choucroute, a French place here in town.” Kyra frowned at my attire as though to suggest I was horridly underdressed.

“Hmm, we just had French for dinner last night.”

“Then you might want to try Tabitha’s. It’s a good casual American place.”

“Thanks.”

Kyra grabbed Leonard’s arm and turned him away.

“Nice to meet you,” I called after them. Damn, I was feeling insecure. Lonna, with her Italian beauty, never had that effect on me. But then, no one would describe her as a “snob”. Kyra Ellison definitely qualified as one. And a bitch to boot.

 

 

Tabitha’s was a pub-style restaurant with a full bar against the back wall, which hid the kitchen from view. The dark wood paneling gave the place a snug feel in spite of the large mirrors that hung behind the bar and on the top half of the walls behind the booths. Candles in Mason jars flickered on the tables and provided most of the low light that suffused the restaurant.

“We’ve got to find a grocery store,” I remarked to Lonna after we gave the hostess my name and the other diners in the restaurant—all six of them—looked up with curiosity. After Robert had dumped me, I’d wished to be more noticeable. The notoriety had now worn thin, and part of me wished I could just go back to my apartment in Memphis, crawl in bed and wake up to find all of it from the fire onward had been a bad dream.

The hostess reappeared with menus and a smile and seated us in a booth near the front of the restaurant. No sooner had we opened the menus than a young man appeared. His name tag said, “Ted, Manager”.

“Welcome to Tabitha’s, Miz Fisher,” he told me.

“Doctor Fisher, actually,” Lonna broke in. I kicked her under the table.

The young man wasn’t fazed. “Doctor Fisher and Miss…”

“Marconi, Lonna Marconi.”

“A friend,” I explained.

“Of course.” He winked. “I just wanted to come over and say hello and I hope we’ll be seeing much more of you. Please accept this complimentary appetizer.”

Another waiter placed a plate of stuffed mushrooms and two little plates on the table along with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Your grandfather appeared in town only rarely, but these were his favorites.”

“And how much is the wine?” asked Lonna.

I cringed. I didn’t want any more attention, and Lonna’s directness was getting plenty of stares.

“Compliments of an admirer.” The corner of Ted’s mouth twitched as he opened the wine, a red blend from California. It occurred me he thought Lonna and I were partners. “I’ll give you ladies a moment to look over the menu and be back to take your order.”

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