Kitty Takes a Holiday

the Wolf go away.'

'Does it actually work?'

'Usually. Sometimes. You ought to make Cormac give you the book. To distract yourself.'

'Don't tell me that's the only book you have in the house.'

I huffed. 'What kind of English major do you take me for?'

I dug through the box of books and CDs I'd brought and set him up with a copy of Jack London. Which prob­ably wasn't the best choice, but oh well. The philistine had scoffed at Virginia Woolf. Maybe he'd thought I was trying to be funny.

I managed to write something that afternoon. I wasn't sure how coherent it was. I didn't have the patience to read back over it. Time enough for that tomorrow.

I wrote for so long that I didn't notice when darkness fell outside.

'Kitty.' The word came out sharp and filled with pain.

Ben gripped the arm of the sofa; the fabric had started to rip under his hand. His fingers were growing claws. He was staring at his hands like they were alien to him.

I rushed over and knelt before him. I put my hands on his cheeks and turned his face, made him look away from the scene of horror to look at me instead. His eyes grew wide, filled with shock.

He said with a kind of rough laugh, 'It really hurts.'

'I know, I know.' I hushed him, brushing his hair back from his face, which was starting to drip with sweat. 'Ben, do you trust me? Please say you trust me.'

He nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. 'I trust you.'

'I'll take care of you,' I said. 'I'm not going to leave you. Okay? You'll be all right. Just get through this and you'll be all right. We're going to go outside now, okay?'

He slipped forward off the couch to fall into my arms, pressing his face to my shoulder and groaning. For a moment, I worried that he'd try to hold me with those hands turning into claws, but no, he'd pulled his arms in close and had gone almost fetal. Tears slipped from my eyes, stinging my cheeks. I hated this. I hated seeing him e this. 'What can I do?' Cormac stood by, hands clenched into fists, watching us with an expression I'd never seen on him before. Helplessness, maybe?

'Stay out of the way,' I said. 'Stay inside and lock the door.'

'Cormac—' Ben's voice wasn't his own anymore. His jaw was clenched, his breath coming in gasps, and his words were thick. 'Watch, I want you to see. Kitty, he has to watch.'

I helped him stand, putting my arm around his back and hauling up. 'Ben, I need you to walk outside with me. Stand up.'

Somehow, he lurched to his feet, leaning hard against me.

Cormac started toward us. 'Let me help—'

'No!' I said harshly. Growling, even. 'He's got claws, he might scratch you. Just get out of the way.'

Cormac stepped aside and opened the door for us.

Outside, the forest was silver and filled with crisp, deep shadows. Full moon night, bright and beckoning. The cold air sent a charge through my body.

I could feel Ben's body rippling under my arm, like slimy things moved under the skin. It would have been nausea-inducing, if I hadn't felt this happen to my own body. He was locked up with the pain; I half dragged him off the porch to the clearing in front of the cabin. We weren't going to get any farther than that. I let him drop to the ground, where he curled up on his side. Thick stubble covered his arms.

I took his moment of immobility to unfasten the button and zipper of his jeans. It took too long; my hands were shaking. But 1 had to get his clothes off before they tangled him up. That would only add to the pain and confusion. Taking both waistbands—jeans and underwear—at once, I pulled down as far as 1 could, then grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled up, forcing it over his head.

'Come on, Ben, help me out here,' I muttered. My own Wolf was bucking inside me—It 's time, it's time! —she had a pack now, and we were all supposed to Change together to go running. I locked her away, clamped down on the writhing beast, and ignored it. I had to get Ben through this. His whole body was covered in fuzz—I could almost see the fur growing.

He groaned again, through grinding teeth and clenched jaw. He was doing his damnedest not to scream. 1 helped him straighten his arms to get the shirt off.

Once again, I took his face in my hands. The bones were stretching under my touch.

'Ben, don't fight it. I know you want to, but you can't stop it, and the more you fight it the worse it is. Look at me!' He'd squeezed his eyes shut, but they snapped open again and his gaze locked on mine. His eyes were amber. 'Let it go. You have to let it go.'

'It' was humanity. He had to let go of the body he'd had his whole life. It wasn't easy. It was all he'd ever known. And it was slipping away as sure as the sky turned above us and the full moon rose.

Finally, the scream that had been growing in him burst loose. The full-lunged note of agony echoed around us and into the sky. When the breath left him, he sounded a whine—a wolf's whine. He broke away from me and fell forward, hugging his belly, chest heaving with every gasp.

I stayed with him, got up behind him, hugged him from behind, my cheek pressed to his fur-covered back, and held him as tightly as I could so he would know 1 was here. He had to know he wasn't alone. My best friend T.J. had held me like this, my first time. The fear might have driven me crazy, otherwise.

He Changed.

His back arced with a powerful seizure, but I held on. Then his bones slipped, stretched, melted, re-formed. It hap­pened slowly. Maybe it always did, the first time. I couldn't say I really remembered. I remembered the wide sweep of events and emotion from when it happened to me, not the details like this. It seemed to take forever, and I was too fright­ened to cry. What if he didn't come back together again?

Then the movement stopped, the groaning stopped. 1 was lying on the ground, my arms around a large, sleek wolf, who was stretched out and gasping for breath, whin­ing with every heave of his chest as if he were dying. But he wasn't, only exhausted. I ran my fingers through his thick, luxurious fur. He was dark gray, flecked with a rust color that ran to cream on his nose and belly. Large ears lay flat against his head, and he had a long, thick snout. He was damp with sweat—human sweat matted into lupine fur.

I brushed my face along his neck and whispered by his ear, 'You're all right, you're going to be fine. Just rest now. Just rest.' Meaningless comforts, spoken through tears. He flicked his ears at the sound, shifted his head, looked at me. I swore I saw Ben in those eyes, looking at me as if saying, Are you serious? You call this all right?

1 almost laughed, but the sound choked in my throat and came out as a whimper. He licked my chin—a wolf­ish gesture that said, I won't make trouble, I trust you, I'minyour hands.

Now, finally, it was time to join him. I could feel Wolf burning along every nerve. I pulled off my T-shirt.

'Kitty.'

Startled, I looked behind me. Cormac leaned on the porch railing, backlit by the still open front door. He'd watched the whole thing. He saw what Ben was, now.

I couldn't see him well enough to read his expression, to guess what he was thinking. Not sure I wanted to.

'Look after him,' Cormac said.

I answered him, my voice rough, thick with tears and fail­ing. 'I will. I promise. Now go inside and lock the door.'

He went. Closed the door. Ben's wolf and I were left in shining moonlight. Quickly now, I peeled off my sweat­pants. Let it come quickly, flowing like water, slipping from one form to the other. I kept an eye on Ben—he raised his wolf's head and watched me—until my vision blurred and I had to shut my eyes—

Opens her eyes to the moonlit world.

The scent of another fills her first breath. She recognizes him, knows him —she 's claimed him as pack, which makes them family, and they'll run together, free this night

He lies stretched out, unmoving, and gives a faint whine. He's weak, he's scared. She bows, stretches, yips at him —she has to show him that he's free, that this is good. Still he won't move, so she nips at him, snapping a his hind legs and haunches, telling him to get up, he has to get up. He flinches, then finally lurches to his feet, to get away from her teeth. He looks back at her, ears flat and tail between his legs.

He's just a pup, brand-new, and she'll have to teachhim everything.

Bumping his flank with her shoulder, she urges himon, gets him to walk. His steps are hesitant —he's neverwalked on four legs before, he starts slowly. She runsahead, circles back, bumps him again. As they pace intothe woods of her territory, his steps become more sure.He starts to trot, his head low, his tail drooping. She can't contain her joy —she could run circles around himall night. She tries to get him to chase her. She tries tochase him, but he only looks at her in confusion. She hasto teach him how to play, bowing and yipping —life isn 'tall about food and territory.

She shows him how to run. And how to hunt. She killsa rabbit and shares it with him, shows him the taste ofblood. The eating comes naturally. She doesn't have toteach him how to devour the flesh and break the boneswith his jaws. He does so eagerly, then licks the blood thathas smeared on her muzzle.

He'll kill the next one, on another night.

They run, and she shows him the shape of their terri­tory. He tires quickly though —his first night on four legs, she understands. She leads him home, to the place wherethey can bed down, curl up together, tails tucked close,and bury their noses in each other's fur so they fall asleep with the smell of pack and safety in their minds.

She hasn't felt so safe in a long, long time. She'll keep her packmate close, to preserve the safety. He is hers, andshe'll look after him forever.

Chapter 9

The thing was, Ben was part of my pack before this ever happened to him.

I might have been alone, a werewolf on my own, but I had people I could call. People who would help me if I showed up on their doorstep in the middle of the night. Ben was near the top of that list. Yes, he was my lawyer and I sort of paid him to be there for me. But he'd handled the supernatural craziness in my life without blinking, and as far as I was concerned that went above and beyond the call of duty. He could have dumped me as a client anytime he wanted, and he didn't. I could count on him, and that made him pack.

I didn't sleep well, waking before dawn. I was nervous— I wanted to make sure I woke up before Ben did. 1 had to look after him.

As the sun rose, I watched him. 1 curled on my side, pil­lowing my head on my bent arm, just a breath away from him—close enough to touch. Even in sleep, his face was lined, tense with worry. He'd had an exhausting night; the evidence of it remained etched in his expression. Shifted back to human, he lay on his back, one arm resting on his stomach, the other crooked up, the hand curled by his shoulder. One of his legs was bent, the foot tucked under the opposite knee.

His build was average. He didn't work out, but he wasn't soft; it was like he'd been thin as a wire when he was a kid, and was only just now filling out to a normal size. He had a stripe of hair running down his sternum. The hair on his head, still damp with sweat, stuck out, mussed and wild. I held back an urge to brush my fingers through it, smoothing it back. I didn't want to startle