The Midwife's Moon (7 page)

“Not in the least. I felt as if he’d given me a great treasure trusting me with his secret. He convinced me to hide our relationship since his family would likely retaliate because I wasn’t good enough. After he told me he was a werewolf, he
admitted
the reason was I wasn’t a werewolf. If only I’d be willing to change, so I offered to. Anything to make being with him acceptable to his kind.”

She paused, that moonlit night when he had taken her blood and given of his for the third time washing over her, the joy, the pain, the love, the betrayal. Swallowing hard on the lump trying to choke her, she continued. “As you must have figured out already, he changed me. The last night of the exchange was the last night I saw him as my lover. He promised to meet me for my first full moon to help, but he never showed up.”

“He didn’t show up!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “What kind of bastard changes over a woman he professes to love then doesn’t help her through it?”

“The kind who’s already married. The kind who betrays his pack. The kind getting a pack trial tonight.”

Lisa heard of stunned silence before but had never been in the midst of one as she was now. Their silence rang with shock. Their movements halted; faces frozen in the moment. A freeze-frame in time, as if time itself would not move forward until they did.

“You and Joseph?” Elizabeth finally blurted out at the same time her husband said, “Joseph made you an
aswan
without helping you?”

A little unaccustomed to being in the happy arena, particularly in recent times, Lisa’s laughter felt rusty but good. She’d been afraid of their rejection once they had learned her to be an
aswan
. Instead, they were indignant on her behalf, and Elizabeth’s eyes were full of sympathy as she put the pieces together faster than her husband.

“I get it now,” Elizabeth said more softly. “Joseph isn’t just another werewolf to you. You, more than anyone, could speak out against him and reveal his betrayals. I hope you have since learned we do not leave our
aswans
to the night or the lonely dark without comfort and guidance.”

“I have. There has been one other
aswan
as they wanted to be married,” Lisa said. Her heart ached at both the similarity of her situation and the following differences to the couple she saw at the pack meetings.

“He needs to be drawn and quartered for what he did to you alone,” Marty said quietly. “It’s not just about you,” he added at her protest. “It’s for the protection of the pack. You get people making random wolves without teaching them and helping them on their first full moon, soon we’ll be hunted. And that’s if none of them die during the exchange.”

This time, Lisa put her crochet down in her side basket as a chill swept her being.
Die?
Joseph never mentioned it. “Die,” she repeated her thought when she found her voice.

“Many humans can’t make the change. So many have died during conversion. It’s recommended you seek pack permission before trying to convert one over. Sometimes we find people’s heritage which suggests their ancestors were pack who lost the ability or who had children outside the pack. As far as anyone knows, there hasn’t been a death among those ones before.”

“Joseph never mentioned it,” Lisa said in a small voice.

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” Elizabeth said, hushing her husband with a small gesture. “Either way, I think you should go and be sure to stand proud if he sees you. Show him you made it and you have importance in the pack. Whether or not he dies tonight, you’ll have stood up to him and shown him you hold no secret longing for him. How many times have you seen him since?”

“I’ve avoided him and hid myself. He never came with his wife for the OB care. I’m sure he knows my name, but it’s a common name he wouldn’t have paid attention to,” Lisa said as if her heart had not broken into a million crystal shards cutting up her soul the first few times she’d seen him after becoming werewolf.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and Lisa waited for more questions. Instead, Elizabeth stood up, walked to her, awkwardly bent over with her extended belly, and hugged her. “Come on,” Elizabeth said, pulling her up. “We need to go see what’s in your closet.”

Lisa followed the other woman into her own room and watched while Elizabeth tore ruthlessly through her closet—hangers in and out, a few things tossed to the side, then, “A-ha! This is what you’re going to wear,” she said holding up a black sweater-type dress with a wrapped waist tie on it.

The wrapped tie formed a sarong and had stunning beadwork forming a large flower across her stomach when on. It was beautiful, the rich colors vibrant against the black. She started to debate as Elizabeth handed her the dress, “But—”

“No buts. You’re also going to wear black leggings and those long boots you wore the other day with the silver buckles on the side. And I have the perfect jewelry to match. Now hurry up and get dressed. I’ll be back to help you with your hair,” she threatened as she left.

Lisa sat down on her bed still holding the garment in front of her. Her polite houseguest had turned into a bossy, managing type. She grinned. Elizabeth would make a good mother. Soon, Lisa got undressed, put on the dress and leggings, and was scrounging in her closet for the boots when there was a knock on the door. Elizabeth came back in, her hands full of
stuff
.

“I’ve sent Marty to the store for a very specific item I saw there today. I told him to hurry up. We want to leave in time to be in a good position. I’m not familiar with your pack’s meeting place, so we’ll need to scope it out.”

Lisa walked in a daze as Elizabeth led her to the bathroom and sat her on the toilet. She meekly let her patient-turned-friend take over her looks, trusting the woman who always seemed to know what to wear when. Even with the limited attire at her disposal from the frantic pack, Elizabeth managed to look gorgeous. Her husband had confirmed she had a natural flare when Lisa had asked him one day.

On went goop, off came the goop, then other things she had no idea what they were. Normally, she washed her face with water, soap if she was really grimy, and applied sunscreen. Sometimes she wore eyeliner, mascara, and lip-gloss when she dressed up for an event. That was about the extent of it anymore. When younger, she hadn’t worried about the sunscreen or taste, and had worn her eye shadow to give herself a goth appearance so popular with her friend set.

Elizabeth worked without speaking other than an occasional mutter under the breath. In a half an hour, Marty came with a thick, black headband with silver, metal beads around the perimeter of the band. His wife kissed him then shooed him out with the admonition to make sure he was ready when they were.

Another half an hour and Lisa stood in her boots as ordered, and did a pirouette type move for approval.

Elizabeth nodded her head. “Perfect. Not too sweet, not too hard. Now we need to get your emotions regarding the harsh pack laws under control. Whether you agree with them or not, you understand they’re necessary to protect our people?”

“Yes, I just...sometimes they seem too harsh,” Lisa responded.

“I understand. Remember, I grew up in a human household, but imagine if we let werewolves get away with hunting their own kind? Then humans? These latest killings have brought wolves and all our people under careful scrutiny. What do you think would happen if people realized we are real? Come up and say, ‘Woohoo, I want to be your best friend?’ No, they would start buying out silver bullets, melting down silver jewelry, and killing anyone suspected of it.”

“No, they wouldn’t. I didn’t,” Lisa protested.

“Not everyone would, but the overall population would break out into mass hysteria. Look at the World Trade Center incident. Did all Arabs do it? No, only a faction, but what if it came out werewolves were responsible for killing pregnant women? Would they blame the ones responsible? No, they’d blame us all, as a race. It’s a harsh truth we have all had to learn to live with. As one of my favorite characters in the movies once said, ‘A person is smart. People are dumb’, and it’s so true.”

Lisa had to smile at her
Men in Black
reference. It also made her point rather well. She grabbed her purse and jacket and followed Elizabeth out to the car. Time to face her past.

Chapter Six

Lance’s run had helped him put things into perspective. The following week he alternated running with rest and food. As a result, he felt the best he had in years. Every day away from Roxy gave him more inner strength. It had burned at his spirit to be locked to her, but he didn’t know how he could have run away since she would have sent Boris after him—again.

A small shudder started through him as the memory of the time he had escaped and been caught arose. He refused to allow it to physically manifest any further, but it stayed there, riding him, just below the surface. As he neared the warehouse, he parked his car a little bit down the block. The new pack had nearly doubled, and it looked like a convention was in town.

He didn’t bother locking his car. The rust bucket had no radio or items of worth; even the tires were bald. Stuffing the keys in his pocket, he whistled as he walked. The soaring stars winked at him. The night sky welcomed him. Soon it would be a full moon again.

His hands started shaking, his breathing hitched, and his senses came to full alert.
What’s triggered my wolf?
Cautious even though he didn’t sense immediate danger, he began searching his surroundings. As his heart rate increased and a surge of sexual excitement hit him, he panicked. Had his time with Roxy made him so sick he equated danger with sex?

That can’t be right. He always feared sex with her. His body reacted, but his mind never got excited. Wary now, he sniffed the air and all at once, it hit him.
She
was nearby. His mate. The one who didn’t know him, but he knew her wolf form. The sound of gentle laughter trickled in the wind, engorged with sadness to his ears. Melancholy he recognized, for he’d laughed like that. Laughed and smiled to hide the pain.

Now his heart restricted and plugged his ears as a roaring sound filled them. His wolf snarled within him and wanted to attack whatever caused such sadness in his mate. He walked faster, wanting a glimpse of the woman who was his mate. Still he couldn’t see her. A group of people walked ahead of him nearly to the door. She must be among them. Worried he’d lose her, he started to run, and the fear from the group escalated. They moved inside quickly with only a man turning his face to him.

Lance slowed back to a walk and went in, his shoulders hunched, hands in pockets to appear unthreatening. The warehouse, jammed from one end to the other except around the center raised half-circle, echoed with voices, shouts, anger, jealousy, and fright. He tried to pinpoint the fright as it felt so misplaced. Every wolf in here should smell the fear and react, yet only he seemed concerned.

A loud clanging in his head nearly drove him to his knees. An old-fashioned clock with metal ticking noises had taken up residence in his eardrums and did not look to be leaving any time soon. He fisted his hands in his pockets and looked around. Was he the only one who could hear the minutes counting down?

The crowd around him receded, and the noise in his eardrums became his focus. He followed his instincts and moved slowly as if in a dream. A petite woman in a black overcoat stood in front of him. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she turned and looked at him.

Her eyes widened in shock as did his. His hand, still suspended where he’d intended to touch her to get her attention, moved up to her bronze cheek, caressing softly. The deep brown eyes gazed at him in wonder before closing up to him. He saw it as clear as day even as he told himself he imagined it. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t flinched, but she had closed down—except for the one brilliant moment when their souls met.

“I’m Lance,” he said gently. “I’m...” he hesitated, What could he tell her? He stroked her skin once more, grateful she didn’t pull away. “We need to talk, but not now. Can we meet after the meeting? I’ll buy you a drink. You can have friends with you if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

She gave a short nod he took to mean yes, so he stepped back. Already, his hand became tingly as if he had dropped something important. Lance told himself to move away, go to another place in the warehouse, but he could not, would not. Facing down Joseph like this had to be hard for her, especially having been raised a human. He wondered if he would have the same courage when the time came for Roxy’s pack trial. Though he hoped he would, he didn’t know if he had the strength this woman presented.

Then he felt like smacking himself.
Of course.
The whiff of fear. The clock. It all came from her, and that was how his brain interpreted the emotions slamming into him from his mate. He took a deep breath in, savoring her rich smell. So many times, the memory of her smell had taken him away from the place of torture, taken his mind back to the ethereal clearing where he had first seen her in shadow, the moon behind her.

Her smell had saved his sanity.

The warehouse of noise became a funeral parlor of silence in a matter of seconds when Nolan appeared with Joseph. The small woman in front of him stood so rigid, for a moment he thought she might be turning to stone in front of his eyes. While he eased closer to her, he tried to concentrate on the hearing.

“He has been seen and witnessed in the act of betrayal. Acts which lead to the death of our pregnant women and their unborn. He conspired with those who kidnapped my mate from my home and directly helped by leading me away on trumped up pack business where he tried to instigate a challenge without it coming from him. He is also guilty of producing an
aswan
and leaving her to fend for herself the first moon. These will be shown and proven and pack justice will be done.” Nolan’s body stance, words, and voice were far and away different than Roxy’s would have been under the circumstances.

Lance had half expected to see Joseph beaten to a bloody pulp. However, Joseph only had minor injuries, presumably from the trap Nolan and Sherona had set up to catch him. This Ulfric had great strength of will. If Lance’s mate were kidnapped from his home, he would kill them. Shocked at himself, his mind registered the very real emotion and determination behind it. The trial, the past week had been excruciating, even as he’d been freed from Roxy’s he inched closer to the one he had saved and who had unknowingly saved him.