They believed Kumarbis and Zora, believed they could really do what they claimed. And they would keep trying to convince me of the same.
On the other hand, I could beg and threaten. My pack and mate would come looking for me. A dozen raging werewolves, along with the vampires from the Denver Family, would swarm the place, seeking revenge in their effort to rescue me. My allies were ruthless and implacable, and Kumarbis and his cult didn’t have a chance, no matter how powerful they were. Maybe that would convince them to let me go.
I’d try that. Plan C.
The sound of the door scraping on stone was familiar enough that it shouldn’t have made me jump, but it did. Every noise, even a familiar one, meant something was happening, something I couldn’t predict. What amazing new fun interaction did the gang have planned for me this time? The mind boggled.
I was tired of jumping at noises.
I stepped carefully toward the door, watchful and hesitant. The smell of blood and meat filled the air, the sound of wet flesh slurped against the floor, and the door scraped shut again.
He’d promised me food. Right. And here I thought he might actually have meant something my human side would consider food. I crouched to stu—this smelled like him—had brought me. Fresh kill, only an hour or so old based on the stickiness of the blood. Large, with a tawny hide: the entire hind leg of a deer, ripped off the rest of the carcass.
Oddly, my next thought was Wolf’s: Enkidu and Sakhmet are good hunters, to be able to bring down deer. I shook that away. Tried to clear my mind. But my mouth was watering. As far as Wolf was concerned, Kumarbis had made good on his word to feed us.
My human side was human enough that I didn’t think I could eat the raw flank of deer in front of me. Not with my flat molars and my modern sensibilities that had grown up on macaroni and cheese out of a box, along with other technological wonders. A rare steak looked appetizing … this was ambiguous. You are weak. Yes, in some ways. In others, no. Hungryus.macmillanusa.com/piracyse">Chapter 1, need to eat. I couldn’t argue. Wolf would have no problem eating the flank.
Even if I ate the meat raw with my human mouth, I’d still be feeding Wolf, who was perfectly fine with the idea. Ecstatic, even. At least I hadn’t shifted at the first smell of blood, the first glimpse of the bloody carcass. I still had some control. Should have made me feel better. But they’d known I wouldn’t be able to eat this as a human. If I wanted to eat, I’d have to choose to shift. This was part of the plan.
They didn’t want me, they wanted Wolf.
I curled up on the floor, trying to think while Wolf whined her incessant logic at me.
In the end, I decided that if I was going to do this, it would be my own choice, under my own control. I wasn’t going to shift in a rage-filled panic like I had last time. I could do this calmly, sensibly even. I had a choice. Or I could pretend I did.
I took off my sweater, jeans, panties. Folded them neatly, put them out of the way next to a craggy piece of rock where I could find them again when I was ready. Kneeling, keeping my balance with a hand resting on the stony ground, I breathed steadily, calming myself. I was hungry, and this was the solution to the problem. Made perfect sense.
The Change hurt less when I didn’t fight it, when I let it slide over me like water pouring through a channel. I imagined a cage in my gut where Wolf lived, where she slept behind bars. As I let out my next breath in a long exhale, I imagined the bars disappearing, the cage opening, and Wolf sprang free. In a wave of tingling pinpricks, fur sprouted along my arms and back. My fingers bent into claws, and my muscles spasmed as the bones under them began to change.
Like water … Without a sound, I closed my eyes, arced back my head, and the Change passed over me in a wave—
* * *
—when she opens her eyes, she sees the world in a sharp light. The scent of meat fills her. It’s why she’s here.
She pads over to the carcass. Suspicious, she noses it all over, searching for tricks, for proof that this is a trap. But it only smells like good, fresh deer. She noses under the skin and rips into flesh. Settles in to devour as much of the feast as she can, because she doesn’t know when she will eat again. Or if it might unexpectedly vanish. The meat should taste good, but she’s anxious, eating too quickly to enjoy this. She’s alone, here. Cornered. No pack to keep watch with her.
She has almost finished the flesh and starts cracking and gnawing on bones when a noise catches her attention and her ears prick up. In front of her, the door scrapes open. The enemy has come. Her hackles stiffen, fur standing straight up. Her muscles brace. Her claws click against the stone as she backs away.
Their scents reach her, alien and uncertain. Four of them, all different. Her lips curl from her teeth and her throat burrs a growl. They’ve brought more light with them, a glare that fills the space, hurts her eyes. But she can’t look away. Ears flattened, tail straight, she stares at them, challenging. If they try to hurt her, she will mangle them all.
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” says one of them, female, smelling of feline, of musk and desert.
“Dangerous,” muttersus.macmillanusa.com/piracyse">Chapter
