8 comments/ 45627 views/ 45 favorites Just an Old Legend Ch. 01 By: TaLtos6 This is the beginning of a long-ish tale that jumps around a little. I decided to write it after considering how getting by in the modern world would take some adjusting to if one possessed certain abilities and wasn't just an unthinking beast ALL of the time. ------------------------- The last of the beans went into the big bowl next to the pot of potatoes that she'd already peeled. Finally she was free. With a bit of effort getting off the tall kitchen stool, the girl got to her feet and looked out of the window. If she leaned on the rough-hewn table and stretched, she could just see him there filling the troughs in his family's pens. She turned to see her mother looking back at her with a glance that said that she knew the question that was coming. The farm-woman's worry lines eased just a little into a soft smile, "I know, little countess. You want to go to meet your prince." The normally dour look evaporated completely and there was just a hint of a twinkle in her eye. "Go to him then, but remember not too quickly. I saw you fall coming up the road from school today. You need to go at a pace that you can manage." "I will, Mama," she said as she worked her way around the corner of the table and was gone as fast as her weak legs would allow. That amounted to a slow pace for most people. He was on his way back to the last trough, struggling a bit himself under the weight and discomfort of the bar across his young shoulders that held up the buckets at either end. As he finished pouring the last of the second one in, he heard the metallic sounds of her approach. "Can I help?" she asked hopefully. He smiled at her standing there in her plain dress with that impossibly long black braid on her slender shoulder. She was just as anxious to get his chores over with as he was now. "Can you spread out some feed for the chickens for me? I have only one more trip and I'm finished." She looked to where he'd pointed and headed there. The woman sat just a little below the crest of the hilltop, but from where she was, she could watch their slow approach if she sat up. The two weren't related, but they'd always looked like a set as though they belonged together. They even looked alike with their black hair and bright blue eyes. Everyone in that little place just assumed that they'd be a pair, since they were inseparable and if they were apart, they drew together like a pair of magnets given half a chance. They spoke of school at the moment, and then the boy interrupted to caution her about the downward slope. "I know, I'm always ready for this," she said as she made the minute changes in her balance that the ground required of her. He walked beside her, involuntarily tensed and ready to help in an instant, but doing his very best not to appear to be doing anything differently. She knew it anyway. She just didn't let on. The two children stopped within a few feet of the woman. They were totally unaware of her presence. It was always like this. They were as ghosts to her, a pair of eleven year-old friends stuck here forever and more devoted to each other than most married adults. The girl considered for a moment, but with a little forethought, she managed to sit down and smooth out the hem of her dress over her thin legs held in the metal and leather braces that she hated but needed all the same. The boy just plonked down next to her. He didn't know it, but she wanted to be able to do it just carelessly as he did, she thought. For his part, he was well aware that she longed to be the same as everyone else. He wanted that for her more than anything. They sat together looking out over the mountain meadow in the afternoon sunshine while the few clouds drifted past. The light breeze puffed at them, but they were absorbed in conversation about everything and nothing and didn't notice it or the songs of the meadow birds as they flitted by on their business. After discussing how far away the next mountain peak might be, she asked if he knew what was on the far side of it. He shrugged and decided finally that there must be another one just like that one. She smirked at him, and he laughed at her expression. Finally, he laid down on his back and raised his arm for her. She smiled softly and with great care, she laid back so that her head rested against the side his chest for a pillow. She made a little adjustment and told him that she was happy like this. He slowly lowered his arm to rest across her small chest very carefully. They'd done this forever, but he'd recently begun to notice the beginnings of what he surmised would be the swell of her breasts one day. He'd seen it in some of the other girls at the little school. He didn't want to go anywhere there yet, he thought, so his arm went just a bit lower down across her ribs. "What are you doing?" she asked a little impatiently, "There's nothing there yet, not much of anything to bother yourself about, and I like it when you hold me there." She reached with her hand to move his arm to where he'd always laid it, "There," she announced in a satisfied tone as she held his arm with her left hand. The woman smiled. The girl was beginning to have her own feelings, but didn't want to change anything for them, at least not yet. She knew that the girl wanted to hang on to what they'd always had. She'd worry about where his arm was supposed to go when she had something there to worry about. The girl listened as he told her another of the tales that he'd memorized from a book that his uncle had sent to him from a distant land. It had been written in the United States, but the publisher's office in England had printed editions in many languages. He talked of the Wild West and they both worked out an adventure for themselves from it afterward. He liked to hold onto the end of her long braid. He never tugged it or anything, he just held it and brushed his thumb against the end. Behind them, the woman's tears streamed down her face as she listened. At last, the young pair sat up, and he waited as she struggled a bit to stand. It was all he could do to let her stand up on her own. He wanted to help her, but knew that she had to do it for herself, and even if he did help, she would insist that he let her do this. She'd learned from him not to let her face show how she strained, and she was proud of herself for managing this on the hillside. He admonished her very gently to stand straight for a minute so that he could inspect the braces to see if anything had shifted. She asked him to make sure that there wasn't any dried grass stuck to her dress back there, and waited as he brushed down over her shoulders and back quickly a couple of times to remove it. Then they were off, walking slowly up the grade hand in hand . About halfway, the girl told him that her legs were hurting her again, and this time it was worse, "I went farther today and Mama says that I'm growing more, that's why. Then Mama asked me to try to catch an old hen for the pot. It took me a while without my canes scaring her, but I almost outsmarted that one and I didn't fall down. I couldn't quite catch her, but while she was watching me to see what I would do next, Papa walked up and he had her by the neck before she knew it. But now my legs are screaming at me." "Without your canes? You did well then," he said, smiling genuinely, "I can never catch a hen myself. I'm too clumsy and they dodge too well. You always complain that you aren't getting better, but you're wrong, you know. I watch carefully and I see you get a little bit stronger every day. Stand straight again." She did as he asked, and he bent to carefully pick her up. She put her arms around his neck as he lifted her and noticed that he had a small cut over his eyebrow. She knew where he'd gotten it. It had come out of his fight that morning. There was one bully who never seemed to learn. But her friend had been there for her again as he'd always been since they'd started school. The bully now had a black eye instead of just a cut, and now she hoped he'd keep his mouth shut instead of trying to hurt her with his words. She rested her head against the boy's shoulder and thanked him again. He told her that it had been nothing, but she'd seen it for herself that it hadn't been easy for him. The woman watched him struggle with her as he took her to more even ground to set her down again. She always wanted him to carry her farther, but she never told him this. Back on her own feet now, she strained a little because her legs were really bothering her quite a bit more, but she didn't mind and said nothing. At the door to her home, she turned and gently touched his cut, noticing that it would heal well. She put her arms tightly around his neck again as he hugged her for a moment and she kissed her friend twice quickly before hobbling into the house. Her mother had seen them approach, and already had the small tub of liniment ready to rub her legs. The boy walked back to his family's home with a small smile that only his mother saw from her window as she watched him come. The two mothers talked often of how difficult it was not to grin when their children sat at the table in either home as she helped him with his lessons. They'd noticed the hand-holding there as well below the table. Normally, his lessons couldn't be gotten into his head with a hammer, but when the girl sat next to him, he learned anything easily. The woman blinked and looked around. The spell was broken. The little farms changed to their ruined state again. She wiped her eyes and saw that the meadow had gone back to its overgrown present-day self. She knew the exact spot where the children sat most times such as today. There were several very thin saplings just beginning to grow there next to her over the place where they'd lain down. She stood up and ripped them out a little angrily. She'd made the final payment on the upper meadow the week before and she'd bought the two tiny farms ten years ago. What her money had bought was a place for her to keep her memories and not much more. It didn't matter, she thought as she blew her nose into a tissue, what the place needed was a few sheep, and once she'd found someone for that, it would return to what it once had been. She was fooling herself, she knew. She didn't know if anyone around here even kept sheep anymore. She reached for the end of her braid as she walked back to the overgrown cart path which would lead her down to where she'd parked her car. Untying it, she let her long, jet black mane free and turned for a last look for today. She ran her fingers through her hair to shake it out and looked at the mountain in the distance, as permanent as her memory. The wind blew her hair around her and she sighed. Everyone who had lived here then had gone to their graves now, everyone but her. She was still a young woman to anyone's eyes, but she knew the bitter truth. She doubted that the boy still lived. Even if he did, he'd be almost a hundred years old, the same as her, but he likely wouldn't know his own name anymore. To her, the children were only ghosts of the past where she belonged and she was the one trapped here in the present. She looked down at her strong legs as she strode easily over the same ground that had caused her to fall so many times back then. What should have happened was that they'd gone on and loved and married. They should have had children themselves and grown old together. He'd never minded her disability. They'd loved each other from when they could talk. She held back the sob that she now felt. Her legs had grown strong and straight, finally, and though that had happened anyway afterward, she'd have happily traded these legs for a life in her braces if they could have had that life together, as much as the boy had wanted her to be free of them. She'd have managed for him somehow as he'd always managed for her. But instead, she'd been cursed to go on living. Everything had changed. Everyone was gone, and life was just a cold, empty cast iron bitch. The woman had only the ghosts of when she'd last been happy. But in her heart she knew that while she still lived today, once she was back in the real world, she was the one who felt like a ghost. Just an Old Legend Ch. 02 This was originally written in shorter chapters, but for readers here, I'm taping three together for today. There are several women in this and I need to introduce you to two of them here. They don't ever meet, I don't think. There's a short shift in the middle part of one as the reader is taken to another place on the globe for a little while, but I need to do that, so try to get through it if you can. --------------------- "It's just an old legend around here, really," said the portly and tired-looking old realtor. "I'm sure a modern young woman like yourself would have no interest in some of the backwoods silliness that passes for wives tales around here." But Helen was intrigued by that point, and insisted. The realtor mopped his sweaty face. It had been a long walk up the rocks from the dock with one of her suitcases and he sure was glad now that she'd taken the place. And anyway, he had her summer's rent in his pocket already. "Well," he began, "there are a few bears on the island, so keep that in mind regarding how you keep your trash locked up in the shed out there and not in here. You've got the burn permit, so once a week maybe, use the fire pit or the composter, whatever makes sense to you. I'd suggest the pit, since bears aren't interested in eating ashes." "The story, Mr. Beamish," she reminded him. "Oh yes," he said, "The story goes that this old farmhouse is haunted and is protected by a really large black wolf, as dark as the night, and he runs the bears off whenever they get it into their heads to maybe check out the place. It can't be true, of course, since the story is older around here than any wolf lives." He nodded in gratitude at the cold can of cola that his new tenant offered him from her small travel cooler, "I heard it from my father when I was a boy." "Go on, Mr Beamish, please," she said, "I'm an artist, as I've said, but I'm also a writer, and I'm always collecting old stories, well mostly ghost stories. I've loved them since I was a little girl." Stan Beamish came to a decision. If she wanted to hear it that bad, he'd tell it all then. He smiled and chuckled, "Well, there are curses to all the tales around here it seems, and this one has a couple. The first is for telling the story, if you can believe the foolishness, and the second is told by young girls around campfires about looking into his eyes - I'm sure you've heard those kinds of stories yourself." He went on to tell of the young man who had laid out and built the small farmstead on the island. "He was from a very rural part of Eastern Europe, and wanted to bring his frail wife over to live here. She survived the trip, but didn't live long after her arrival. It seems, as the legend goes, that she was in fact a werewolf. Once her husband found her out, he killed her in the typical silver bullet sort of way, but his love for her had caused him to hesitate, and before she died, he was bitten himself." "Her remains were found where they'd been burned, but the husband was never seen again. The police found a note with an explanation of the murder. The township took the place over, and my office eventually bought it. I try to rent it out most summers, but the locals won't go near it, The really odd thing is that somebody comes here to farm a little. I've found some crops, but no farmer would come here - or at least that's what they tell me." Stan turned to go, "The aluminum motor boat tied up at the dock is for your use to go to town for groceries or whatever. Oh, one thing. If you hear the bears rooting around, you can turn on the yard lights by the switch there. It seems to drive them off, and if that doesn't work, the steel doors will keep them out and the lower story windows are barred as you can see, You're quite safe inside, but my suggestion to you is not to get caught outside after nightfall." With that, he took his leave and headed back down to the dock. ---------------------- Lia's muscles ached and complained to her from the many hours in the cold damp of the long night spent on the ground with no movement. She was used to it. She'd long ago learned how to compartmentalize the sections of her mind. For long term discomfort such as this, she just closed the door on that section until later. She had other compartments set aside for things like her thirst and the irritation from the mosquitoes which had been happily gnawing on her back and bottom the whole night long. What was really bothering her was the solitary ant who insisted on going for its morning constitutional stroll across her nose here, since she couldn't allow herself the motion of brushing it off. Damn, she thought, the little things must deserve their reputation for busyness if they were up and on the job this early. There was still some of the night-time mist hanging in the air and this one ant just had to go for a walk now. From the light around her, she reckoned that it must be getting close to seven, the start of another business day for many millions of the planet's inhabitants. If everything worked out, it would be a non-starter for one in particular. She swiveled her eyes to take in the watchtowers within her field of view. The suddenly growing brightness from the approaching beam of one of the lights caused her to close her eyes in order to save her vision from the glare. This has been going on since dusk, she thought. Wasn't it about time to turn the damn things off? As if the man in the tower had heard her thoughts, the beam stopped abruptly a few meters to her left and disappeared. With a slow smile, she realized why the lights had been kept on well into the dawn. It was so that the boss could see that they were on the job. With that thought tucked away, she knew it must almost be Show Time and very slowly brought the rear objective of the scope to her eye while tightening her hold on the grip of the rifle as she eased the safety off. Bullets kill by passing their kinetic energy to the target as a physical shock which does the damage. The system that she was using was a three part one, and the characteristics of the ammunition was the key part. Everything was built around one particular rifle cartridge, the 7.62 millimeter NATO round, known for its flat and predictable trajectory across long ranges and for its hitting power when it got where it was aimed. The rifle and the scope were designed for each other from the outset, and one was not available without the other. The graduations in the scope were marked off at the proper rise of the flying bullet at any given range. It only worked with that cartridge, so you selected your distance, and the graduation at that range became clear. Center that on your target, and other than the effect of wind, that's where the bullet would be when it had gotten that far away. Simple. Mated at the factory, the two parts together were a marvel of German efficiency produced for one purpose. It was a sniper rifle for use exclusively by law enforcement agencies against other snipers. Lia wasn't after another sniper with her rifle, but it would do the job nicely for her this morning if the target would only get his ass out of the door. The low weedy shrub that she lay behind outside the fence had been planted here the year before very carefully. She'd selected the species for its bushiness and rapid steady growth. It could stand being cut back by weed trimmers and shears, and would quickly grow back. The only thing that it had no defense against was a defoliant, but she hadn't been worried about that. Using a chemical like that would have turned the green belt outside the fence into an unsightly wide stripe of brown earth, and that could not be tolerated, could it? She knew all that there was to learn about this target, and still she wondered what drove him. He'd built something of a criminal empire around himself and running it seemed to give him the occupational high that he thrived on. It was a little unusual for what he was, she thought. He'd surrounded himself with carefully chosen people. Nobody got close to him without passing through a rigorous screening process designed to keep him safe. His armored limousines couldn't even be gotten close to most times and they were swept for explosives several times a day, the times of the inspections being staggered at odd and unpredictable intervals. This was the one predictable part of his day - the walk through the hedged garden to the garages to get into a limo. The other odd thing here was that all of the people who surrounded him were human, as though they were all that he believed that he could trust, for some reason. She mentally shrugged. Everybody needs a hobby, she thought as the door opened and he left through the side door to walk along the elaborate decking adorned with planters full of flowers of every description. Her problem was that he had another hobby. Every so often, he'd bite somebody - usually a plaything that he'd grown tired of. Before that one had gotten through the change, they were dumped someplace to spread their misery as a new and temporarily insane werewolf. It would have been far better for everyone if he'd just had them killed, but it was the way he did things. She had a window of only a few seconds here. Over a year of preparation on her part boiled down to this thin slice of time. He was only in the clear for about ten meters. After that, he'd be screened by all sorts of foliage and vegetation until he was safely inside the large garage complex. He liked his toys and had quite a collection, far too many to try to keep track of and have any hope to look for opportunities. Lia had her crosshairs on him now and worked to control the timing of her breathing. She willed him to turn to face her. Across the 530 yards between them, she waited for a clear view of his chest. It had taken her since early in the afternoon the day before to crawl into position here and everything came down to her getting a heart shot. She would settle for nothing less. He was just about to turn, and her finger had already taken up the slack on the calibrated match trigger. Anticipating his turn, she was at the bottom of her breath to achieve maximum stillness for the shot. One step more and he'd turn... The door of the house opened, and one of the housekeepers called to him, She couldn't believe this. In only a second or so, her heart would beat strongly to counter the drop in the dissolved oxygen level of her bloodstream. That heavy pulse would mean a difference of up to a foot at this range, she knew. If she inhaled now as well, the difference would be far greater. But he had no time for whatever the housekeeper wanted. He didn't even listen as he waved her off brusquely. She held off her eye blink for just a moment longer, and, ... There it was, a wide-open window for her which was already closing. Her index finger squeezed the tiny amount of pull remaining in the trigger and the shot was away as the stock of the rifle pushed against her shoulder. The rifle ejected the empty casing and stripped another round from the magazine for a follow-up shot. It would have been nice, she thought, but the nature of this hunt precluded one. Her ammunition wasn't what the weapon had been designed for. While everything about the dimensions, weight, and balance exactly matched the military round, hers was not a steel bullet covered by a full metal jacket. The copper jackets on her rounds were scored to peel back on impact, just like a hunting bullet. Hunting bullets peel back to allow the lead core to deform into a larger shape in order to maximize the energy transfer. But instead of the usual hunting bullets made by the millions for hunters the world over, hers would peel back to reveal something different, something that fit the game that she hunted exclusively. As the bullet crashed into his chest just to the right of center at well over twice the speed of sound, it penetrated his sternum and the copper peeled back to reveal a core of silver alloy which smashed into his heart before tearing out ten pounds of meat, bone, and other tissue on its way out through his back. She watched as he stood for an instant on his toes and then crumpled almost backward with a groan that she'd never hear. The face there sideways on the decking went through three changes in an instant. She saw the long canines, but they returned to an almost human size as his life left him. She missed the rest of it. By the time the crack of her rifle shot had reached the guards' ears almost a second and a half later, She was already up and on one knee, sighting on the nearest tower. She didn't adjust the scope, she didn't really need to. The guard there landed on the ground without most of his head. With the closest threat to her removed, Lia ran like a stripe-assed gazelle for the trees. All eyes were on their fallen employer, but the guards with more mental horsepower began to look toward the fence frantically. Two of them saw her dash toward the trees and one began to call out and point, while the other keyed the button on his radio. The guards in the remaining towers opened fire and Lia ran through a cloud of tormented wood bark and splinters from the tree to her left. She ran through the first band of trees, headed for the thick woods beyond but stopped just long enough to do several things at the far edge of the trees. Stepping quickly out of her shoes, she tore at the Velcro seams on her clothes. They went into a heap in a dry part of the stream-bed there with the rifle laid across the top. The waxed paper tabs came off the adhesive tape that she'd prepared the afternoon before, and with that, she taped a small incendiary charge to the rifle and pulled the pin the last of the way out to arm it. She began to run along the stream-bed again over the rocks and stones. She was more than fifty yards away when the charge hissed to life and began the small, intense fire which would destroy the rifle. There were no guards in the band of green space beyond. At this particular time of day, they were closer to the long drive as a security screen. She splashed along the stream as she heard the dogs baying right about where she'd lain the whole night long. She didn't care. If any of them even caught a glimpse of her they wouldn't continue their pursuit if they had a brain. If not, she'd just kill them long before the men arrived. She left the stream just inside the heavy woods beyond. She had a long way to go yet, but she already knew that she was pretty much home free. What moved through the forest now was not recognizable as the female sniper that the guards had shot at. Once she began to pound along in the dark forest on all fours, her speed increased to a point where she could have left all but a cheetah in her dust on the cheetah's best day. Her mouth opened and her long pink tongue flopped against her teeth a little as she grinned. This had been all about getting to know her target and for that, Lia was the best at this game. It takes one to know one, she thought. ------------------------ It took Helen exactly three days to fall completely in love with the island, and another to come up with an idea of how to word her offer to purchase it from the realty office in town. Stan Beamish agreed in principle over the phone, and they scheduled a meeting for the following Wednesday to talk turkey as he put it. Helen was pleased, and decided to really explore the island as a reward to herself. It was during this expedition that she found a few more of its treasures. The first were the fields that Beamish had mentioned. They were small, well not small specifically. The area that was cultivated was fairly small compared to what was available. Helen wandered carefully and thought about who might be trespassing here to plant a crop or two. She was worried about crops like corn which might be planted as a screen say, to hide a crop of marijuana, but later on, she found that she could get an overview of them from the rear windows of the house, and it was obvious that there was only the corn there. It just looked like small-scale subsistence farming to her. The next surprise was the blueberry patch. She couldn't tell if it had been planted or had just grown wild, but she didn't much care. She'd always loved wild blueberries. The discovery alone had made her mouth water, and then her next thought was how much she'd like to bake a pan of Blueberry Boy Bait, the informal cottage-style cake that her mother had taught her to make. She had no idea if it lived up to its name. It had never lasted long enough in the days of her adolescence to attract any boys. Truth be told, it never stayed in the pan long enough to cast much of a shadow as soon as it had cooled from the oven. But the real surprise treasure to Helen was the hidden little cove. There was a narrow inlet, only wide enough say, for a canoe, or the small aluminum fishing boat that was tied up at the dock on the other side of the island to get in here. The entrance was not only narrow, it was fairly shallow too, but it then opened up and deepened as well. It had surely been formed by a glacier, but there was a small soft sandy beach that started the wheels in her head spinning. Helen had always wanted a secluded place to sunbathe. It had been a pet fantasy of hers all of her life. What she really wanted was a private place to come to relax, take off her cares along with her clothes, and just lie in the warm sun. She wandered around, looking at all of the driftwood which had accumulated. It would take her a good while to clear it away, working alone. There was a lot of sawing to be done to cut the larger pieces up into manageable size to drag off and pile, but she was determined to do just that if it got her a tan without lines. Plus, she realized, there would be good firewood for the occasional bonfire if she wanted to make an evening of it once it had all dried out. There was one thing that bothered her a little about all of this, she realized. It was a nagging little thing in her mind. She was overlooking something, and she knew it. The trouble was, she didn't know what it was – some little bit of lore or knowledge there in her mind telling her to be careful, if only she could put her finger on what it was. It wasn't until the another day or two later until she had her epiphany about that. Helen came back the next day and set about clearing a bit of her beach. She got quite a bit done, but found that it was hurting her hands somewhat, and there was the occasional splinter to deal with – even from this old driftwood. The day after, she returned with a basket and a pair of work gloves that she'd bought in town. It didn't take long at all to almost fill the basket with berries, and she found a bit of shade to set it down in for later when she'd leave. There had been times as she picked, that she thought she felt herself being watched, as though someone was observing her. The feeling just wouldn't go away, and no matter how quickly she stood up to look around, there was never anyone there. Thinking about that, she noticed that the birds in the area were busy with their flights and songs the whole time. Actually, the only time they were the least bit upset was whenever she stood up suddenly. She shrugged, feeling a bit foolish and continued on. The beach looked a bit odd to her that day. She looked around, and had the strangest impression that more of the wood had been moved than she herself had gotten done. But in reality, she decided that she just couldn't honestly say that. Shaking her head, she chided herself for being foolish, and decided that from then on, she'd be concerned when she found that she had an actual reason to be. After about an hour and a half of often hard work, she'd had enough for now and stood back to check her progress. She'd cleared a lot, but the ones that remained now were the dead falls, and these weren't driftwood at all. That was ok for the moment, she decided, she'd be back with a saw if she could find one around anywhere, and if not, well she was a big enough girl to rent a small chainsaw if she had to, because she'd now decided that this was going to get done. Just an Old Legend Ch. 02 The sun shone brightly, and in this little place – as magical as it seemed to her – there wasn't much of a breeze due to the bowl shape of the cove in the surrounding rock. Helen was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She smirked that perhaps the time had come for a bit of a reward. Her clothes were off in an instant, and she swam quickly around the little cove. She laughed out loud once as she marveled at how warm the water was here. It surely was a rarity anywhere in the Great Lakes to find water like this that wasn't stagnant. There must be enough water being exchanged through the little channel, she decided, to keep this fresh, and the shallowness of it overall allowed the sun to raise the temperature. Tiny minnows darted around her, dashing away from her movements, but always returning out of curiosity not long after she stopped. Helen decided the best part of having her new little friends around was when she stopped and stood up with her feet on the bottom. The minnows would come then to nibble experimentally on the tiny almost-invisible hairs that humans are covered with. You wouldn't even know they were there at all, Helen thought, if you didn't have friendly minnows to point them out. The feeling was delightful. The delight continued for her right up until she was walking out. There on the sand was a footprint. She stopped and studied it for a moment and stepped next to it once. It had been made by a bare foot – and it was larger than her own by a wide margin. Looking around the sand in the area, she came to two conclusions: she herself had not walked right here yet, and whoever had made the print had brought a large dog along. Those tracks were noticeable here and there as well. Helen suddenly felt vulnerable and looked around quickly. Her heart rose to her throat when she saw the huge dark head looking down at her over the tops of the tall bushes at the edge of the rim. And then it was gone. She wasn't sure that she had actually seen anything, it had happened so quickly. It took a minute, but after that, she wondered if it was more of her imagination's fancy. She grabbed her pants and shoes. Getting them on quickly, she ran, trying to button her shirt as she went. At the top of the rim, she looked around hard, and saw nothing. The breeze puffed gently past her ear, and the birds sang their songs just inside the eaves of the woods on the one side. On the other, she could just hear the bees buzzing in the wild flowers which grew between her and the blueberry patch. Helen stood still for about five minutes and came to three conclusions. Firstly, her imagination needed to take a vacation. Secondly, the dragonflies here were beautiful and very friendly. And lastly, the deer-flies were far too friendly. She waved them away and went back to her cove. The rest of the afternoon, she sat thinking about this place, deciding that she really wanted it if she and Beamish could come to an agreement. She thought about the large animal that she thought that she'd seen for a little while too. She wasn't sure anymore if she'd actually seen it at all, but if she had seen it, she was certain that it was no bear. She was even more certain of it as her adrenal gland began to dump its product into her bloodstream a split second after she noticed that the animal was now looking at her from the edge of the sandy beach off to her right. Helen froze. Her eyes were sending images that her mind wanted very much to disbelieve. She blinked a couple of times, but the images remained. Not a hundred feet away from her stood a coal black canine, and it – well, he more correctly – was watching her intently, but making no move either way. She blinked again and exhaled a little. This animal easily exceeded the size of any canine that she'd ever seen or had even heard of in all her life. To Helen, this could not be possible. The thought came to her that to describe him, the word 'pony' would have come to mind, and then she realized that there are breeds of pony which might make something of a snack for a carnivore of this stature. The mouth was open a little, a long pink tongue hung out as he panted softly in the bright sunshine, and the teeth that she could see were as exceptional as the rest of him. Yellow eyes regarded her cautiously for a moment, and then the tongue was retracted, the mouth closed, and his nose lifted about an inch to sniff the air for a few seconds. He returned to his observation of her, and she wondered how she'd get to the safety of the farmhouse. Her first rush of adrenaline had begun to fade but was replenished immediately as the animal seemed to make a decision and began to walk toward her slowly. Helen thought that her life might now come to an end which she'd have never imagined for herself in a million years, as she began to quake involuntarily. This was about the most primal fear that a human can feel - the one where they look into the eyes of something which might easily regard them as food. She remembered her mother telling her when she was little that a dog can sense fear in a person, and to never show fear to one, no matter how terrified she might be. Well it had usually worked back then, but now? With this beast? She had far more doubt than certainty. One look and they both knew full well who was in charge of this encounter. He stopped after a few steps, and Helen found herself willing some control back into her body. She tried to actually make observations, hoping that doing so would give her back some muscular command. She didn't think that she could ever come out ahead in either of the fight or flight scenarios that came to her, but she watched intently, now that he'd stopped. His head wasn't down to emphasize his massive shoulders as dogs do when assuming a threatening posture. His mouth was open again, and on him it looked like a silly grin. His eyebrows were raised, not lowered, and his tail swung very slowly back and forth a little. This last she knew was not necessarily an indicator of anything in dog behavior, not unless it swung widely in welcome to a pack member, be that a dog, wolf, coyote, or human. He stepped forward again hesitantly and then stopped. Helen took the opportunity to slowly and deliberately stand up. The result was a bit of a short, quiet growl of surprise, but he stood his ground. Helen had no idea what to do now, so they looked at each other for a few minutes. He sniffed the air again for a second, and his nose led him to her basket, covered with a dishtowel in the shade. She almost admired the sleek sheen of reflected sunlight from his black fur. Helen took a small step toward him. She really couldn't say why, when to her the more logical thing to do might have been to try a screaming dash for her life away from this animal. He stepped away from the basket and she walked very slowly to pick it up and return to where she'd been sitting. As she walked, she decided not to look back at him. It was another decision that she couldn't explain to herself, but she knew that wolves and certain other wild canids had learned about guns. You can make any wolf in North America disappear with a ski pole if his ancestors had any unfortunate human contact before and you held it like a rifle. She looked around for a stick like that, but saw nothing near at hand, and now cursed herself for doing such a good clean-up job. Anyway, she shrugged mentally, if he'd wanted to kill her he could have done that many times over already. Who knew how long he'd watched her silently if he were hunting her? Then the thought came to her that this animal might just be tame to begin with. He was obviously cautious, but he sure wasn't afraid of her. Well, the possibility of her having a gun aside, there wasn't much for him to be afraid of, was there? When she'd sat back down, she found that he was closer now and appeared curious. Helen decided that if her last conscious act on Earth was to enjoy a handful of blueberries before she died, then she'd better get on with it. Pulling back the dishtowel a bit, she reached in and ate some berries. Looking over, Helen almost laughed out loud at the wolf's facial expression as he twisted his great head sideways at her. Looking him over again, she was sure there were no signs of possible aggressive posturing in him, and she smiled a little, before doing something that would have made the least amount of sense to any human alive in that situation. Helen slowly held out a handful of berries to him. He tensed just a little, but remained where he was, watching her hand approach. At last, her arm was fully extended. He sniffed at the berries and her hand carefully and then looked at her. "Well, Buddy," she said very softly, "you seemed interested in these over there a minute ago. I'll share with you if you want. Um, please don't rip my arm off, I only have two." The wolf looked at her again with his head cocked comically for a moment. Helen felt foolish. He wouldn't eat the berries, and what was there to offer him now? She wondered again if he was tame, or just supremely confident. There was that aura about him - that he knew how this would end at any second of his choosing. Maybe he was even playing with her, she thought. Just as she was about to pull her hand back, he began to sniff the berries again, and to her surprise, he carefully took some from her hand and tried to eat them. He seemed to have trouble with it, but did eat them after a struggle. His nose came back to her hand, and he snuffled some more, but took a pass on more berries. He carefully licked her skin on all of her fingertips and the side of her thumb. Helen was amazed, and smiled. She put the berries back into the basket and brought her hand to his face again. He curled his lip for just a second, looked a bit apprehensive, but then held still finally as she touched the side of his muzzle and lightly scratched there. They looked at each other for a second, and then he did something that she'd have never foreseen. He slowly lowered himself down to lie in front of her there on the sand. It came as a small shock to her that even with her sitting down and him lying there, they were pretty much eye-to-eye with each other. Helen began to speak to him softly, but though the terms and sentences that came to her mind of speaking to one's dog were there, she found that they couldn't possibly fit this situation. How the hell can you say, "Good doggie" when the doggie – good or otherwise – stands on all fours with his head level with the bottom of your sternum and outweighs you at least two to one? It was just absurd, she thought. Besides, this big boy carried himself far too regally for any of that nonsense even if he didn't understand the words. Most dogs have at least a bit of their desire to please written on their faces, even in a situation like this. Even without that, most dogs sense a human's superiority somehow. But her pal Buddy here – he looked like he didn't give much of a damn either way. She saw cold intelligence in those eyes. In a moment of fancy, she might have thought that they were trying to appear less cold, but clinically? This beast was far brighter than any dog that she'd ever seen. The eyes held the look of calm recognition, mild interest, and absolutely no fear. In the end, she just spoke to him as though he were a human that she'd just met there on the beach. The conversation was one-sided, but it seemed to fit. The really odd thing was how intently he seemed to listen to her. It went on for a little while, and Helen thought about how this might be a good time to slowly stand again and see if he'd allow her to leave. That thought flew from her mind a second later when his ears picked up, and the head swung away from her as he stood up abruptly. She watched as his mouth was open just a tiny bit, and his nose rose up into the air as he sniffed. When his brain had gathered enough information to come to a decision, Helen felt another thrill of adrenaline when his lips pulled back fully and his deep growl began. That growl turned into a roaring snarl as he sprang away from her. He was at the edge of the sand - right back where she'd first seen him in less than a second, and in two bounds, he was over the rim. The roar continued, and then ended in several very deep and angry barks that turned to roaring snarls once more. She was relieved that she didn't appear to be the cause of this, but the sounds that she heard now chilled her. She had no idea what his opponent was, but the conflict was short and sharp, ending in grunts and a painful bellow. It took several minutes before the birds began to talk to each other in the distance again. Helen wondered if she had just better take this opportunity to make her exit. The moment was gone a few seconds later as he appeared at the rim of the depression once more. He didn't even stop to look, he just made his way to the sand of the little beach and trotted to her again. Helen laughed as he basically threw himself down in front of her again with something of a satisfied look, she thought. But after a moment, her good humor vanished as her eyes fell to his large front paws. There was blood there on his claws. A fair bit of it, too. She was suddenly concerned that he'd hurt himself somehow, doing whatever he'd done – to whatever he'd done it too. Yet he didn't seem to be aware of it, or be in any pain. "Look at your feet," she said, "are you hurt?" He tilted his head in that crazy way that he had and looked at her quizzically. He watched as she reached toward his paws, and pulled them away from her hand, first one and then the other. He considered the blood for a minute, and then looked up at her, before getting back up to walk with his feet in the water along the beach. He didn't look back, but just walked off. Helen was more puzzled by this new behavior than ever, but decided that it was maybe better now if she left. The sun had already begun its descent toward evening a while before, and she had a way to go on unfamiliar ground. She realized that had she not met him, she'd have been in the farmhouse and working on her light supper by now. She gathered her things and set out up the rise. Some vegetation had been disturbed in whatever fight had occurred there, but Helen saw no body of any kind and was thankful for that, until she saw the blood. There was blood on several of the berry bushes, and a few had been crushed. She didn't stick around, but wondered about it as she walked. Remembering what had been on his paws, he didn't seem injured in any way. She supposed a bit later that she shouldn't have wondered all that much, and that it would have been a better idea to concentrate on the way back instead. It didn't really take her much time at all to get lost in the woods. She tried to keep herself focused on the path, but something bothered her. When it finally hit her, she stopped. Bears absolutely love blueberries. This is what had been on her mind a few days before. Could it be possible that her large companion had fought with and bloodied a bear? The more that she thought about it, the more it seemed likely. All right, she asked herself, why? Why would he have jumped up to attack like that? Had she been in any danger? These were black bears after all, not grizzlies. Then again, this was an island. She didn't know if it was within a bear's swimming range to be able to get to the mainland. She supposed that it would be. But if it wasn't, then food here among the carnivorous types might be at a premium. Maybe he'd done her a huge favor, she thought. Her musing was cut short by the sounds of a large animal moving through the woods not far off. Almost every forest creature has over time developed a way to move fairly quietly – except the ones who are either too stupid or have no need to care much who might be listening. Normally, that would boil down to two. Humans and bears. And humans, Helen thought, probably earn themselves far more 'Stupid" points than the bears. She listened and realized that even with no breeze here in the forest, a bear would eventually catch her scent, What it might do then was not predictable, but Helen hoped that it had a full belly right now all the same. She was about to turn away when she noticed him there. The wolf had been right with her the whole time. He stood off to the side with his head looking over his shoulder at her. He walked a little way off and then stopped. When she didn't move, he silently came back and began again, stopping to look back at her. It didn't take three tries for Helen to figure it out. She began to follow, as quietly as she could. It was working out pretty well for her for a time. She noticed that she was hearing more and more separation between herself and the source of the crashing through the forest. But humans, modern ones, don't walk barefoot in wild places. They wear shoes and they don't feel with their feet for little things. Like dry branches. The one branch that she stepped on solidly in this gathering gloom broke underfoot with a sound that carried through the woods like a rifle shot. All of the forest fell still instantly. Every moving living thing stopped to listen. All except one. That one began to snuffle loudly. The snuffling stopped with a snort, and then the crashing began anew, this time getting louder very quickly. Helen was about to turn and run when a black streak flashed by her tearing back the way that they'd come with that same roaring snarl that she'd heard earlier. She could just see the rise in the trail, and knew that the bear, by the noise it was making now, was just on the other side of that. The wolf had just disappeared over that and Helen heard the sounds of a new fight. Two things stood out for her in this – her new friend, as she supposed him to be, was putting his heart into it this time, and though she couldn't see anywhere near clearly in the dimness of the forest just after dusk, she saw that he reared up during the fray. She could just see that long enough to notice it the first time, and then it happened again. The next thing she knew the big wolf was coming back down the trail to her again. He trotted past her, and she trailed her fingers along his back lightly as he passed. "I don't know for sure," she said very quietly, "But I think you're trying to help me here, so thank you." She didn't know if he understood or not, but he did turn his head around to regard her very briefly before leading her on at a quick pace for her in the gloom. There was darkness around his mouth, and she wondered if that might be blood. She tried not to think about it as she struggled to keep up. He seemed to want her out of there, so she did her best until they came out near the farmyard. She wondered how he knew that this was where she belonged. She sat down on the top step to catch her breath for a minute. He stood looking at her and her earlier presumption was confirmed. There was blood from his nose to his chest, but none of it, by his actions, was his own. He seemed totally unconcerned with it. She wondered if there was any food that she could offer him as she looked into the yellow eyes that regarded her calmly. He seemed to read her thoughts just then and turned to walk slowly away. He stopped once in the gloom to look back at her and then continued on into the woods, stopping just at the entrance to urinate against a tree. Helen smirked at that, and was about to make a quiet comment to herself about men being the same the world over. But she stopped before she began. She had thought that he must have belonged to the other set of human footprints that she'd seen in the cove earlier. She certainly didn't think so now. He was obviously quite wild, and if this huge beast liked her enough to keep any half-starved bears from bothering her, well that just couldn't be a bad thing, could it? Just an Old Legend Ch. 02 She stood up to go inside, and looked back. "Hey, Buddy?" she said very quietly, "If that keeps the bears away, you just pee there whenever you want to." She smiled and went inside. With a lot to think about now, Helen washed the blueberries and put them in the refrigerator. She prepared and ate her supper in a half an hour, and just crawled into bed. She was asleep within minutes, but... The human mind has been compared by some to a jukebox. The tunes that are played can be in order, or random, and we have no conscious control over what comes on next. Helen had been asleep for more than an hour when she suddenly awoke and sat up in bed. Several things were on her mind, all at the same time. There was the old legend that until now, Helen had regarded as a quaint tale and not much more. That thought didn't bother her. It was something else that caused a thrill of fear and uncertainty to creep up her spine as she turned to look out the window. He was there, out in the yard. He sat looking around him, listening and sniffing the night breeze. She could just make out his shape there in the moonlight – a huge wild wolf, larger than anything she'd ever heard of or read about, an impossibly sized wolf. He didn't look up at the window, he just took the house in as he sat and scanned around the yard. She repeated the words in her mind. An impossibly sized wolf, who had made some sort of effort to meet her in the cove, in his own way. Who had for some reason undertaken her defense in the blueberry patch against a foe that she was too city-bred, maybe to recognize as one. And he'd done that again in the woods a bit later, leading her to the safety of the farmhouse, and who now sat there as though he were undertaking her defense again, watching over her in the night. A pretty noble animal, one would think. But there were two thoughts underneath all of this – raising an eerie possibility that just wouldn't be swallowed or overlooked in her mind. Wolves don't fight with their claws. Wolves don't stand up. Helen looked at him again, and he was just leaving the yard again. He looked around, glanced at the upper windows once, and was gone. Just an Old Legend Ch. 03 Helen sat looking mostly at the spot where the wolf had disappeared into the forest. It took a while, but her nerves settled, finally. What was this, she asked herself, what was happening here really? The other human footprints? She had no clue. How long could a footprint last undisturbed there on the beach in that sheltered place? From one good rainfall to the next, she supposed, and she didn't know when the last one had occurred. Must have been someone just stopping by, she thought. The cove was nowhere near the fields. Her thoughts turned to the wolf. She found a lot of confusing thoughts there, and got up to head for the kitchen. She made a cup of tea, and sat trying to think it through rationally. This had to be done, she told herself, because she needed to come to a decision now. Was this wolf -- this animal - a threat to her? Well he sure was built for it, she thought, but really, was he? She admitted to herself that he'd scared the hell out of her with his appearance there on the beach, but he hadn't harmed her in the least. If anything, he'd tried to be friendly in a way. Well, as friendly as something like that could be. What about the bear- fighting thing? Was he protecting her? He sure seemed to be, but why would he? Why would something as clearly wild as that do anyone a favor? And a human at that? It didn't make much sense, but it had clearly happened. She still discounted the tale that she'd been told right out of hand, now that she was clear-minded. True, he was huge for a wolf, and she had no explanation for that. She'd also never heard or read of a wolf that had been coal black with no other coloring. She wasn't an expert, but knew that timber wolves do not usually have that coloring, so there was another inexplicable detail. Usually. Well, he sure wasn't usual, she thought, so there. Wolves don't usually try to make one's acquaintance either, do they? But he was obviously a wolf, and a black one at that. Back to the fighting, there had been blood on his paws both times, but she hadn't seen how that had happened, so who the hell knew? The blood down his front was self-explanatory. She also hadn't seen exactly how or why she'd been able to see that he appeared to stand up twice briefly. It had been far too dark to see anything definitively, and the fight had occurred on the far side of a small rise of ground. Maybe he was on a stump that she couldn't see from her vantage point. Coming back to that, why would a wolf take on a bear single-handedly? Helen figured that wolves and bears would be competitors for much the same food, so it was natural that they'd be enemies, but she couldn't see a wolf behaving that way and actively attacking a bear alone. Her next thought made her smile. Well, she thought, this wolf was big enough to handle it, quite obviously. Unless she now began to see a whole pack of these Superwolves leaping around, it would be safe to assume that he's on his own here. A boy like that, she reasoned, wouldn't have much to fear from bears. Based on what she'd seen, it was obviously the other way around. Her next thought was a bit disconcerting. What would a wolf like that eat? She looked at her own arm, the one that she'd extended to him. Well, he could eat people, though she could see that sooner or later that would have to end badly for him, or... her eyes opened wide at the thought. There were no cattle on the island. Perhaps the bears on this island were food? Her thoughts were heading farther away from what was really on her mind. She looked at her hands holding the tea cup. Did she still want this island now? Anybody in their right mind, she thought, would do the only logical thing that was to be done. They'd get up tomorrow, pack their stuff -- maybe not even that -- and just get the hell away from this place. She smirked to herself. And that's if they slept the rest of the night at all and didn't just sit in the corner cowering in fright. She smirked again at her next thought. She herself didn't feel threatened in the least right here. She knew that right after she finished her cup of tea, she had every intention of going right back upstairs and going back to sleep. What was the matter with her, she thought? Hell, she felt like having another cup of tea! Alright, there was still the issue to deal with. She didn't want a wolf for a pet, but could they just be neighbors? She wouldn't mind him hanging around once she got used to him if he had the side-benefit of keeping the bears away. But she couldn't base her purchase of the place on that assumption, she decided. Not without further indication from him that they might be able to coexist on the island. And that was one huge assumption in any regard, she realized. Well, she had a couple more days to decide before her meeting with Beamish. She stood up to turn on the kettle. One of the floorboards creaked out on the porch, and even before she snapped her head around, she knew what -- or who - she'd see out there. It still came as a shock to see the size of him there looking back at her through the window. The yellow eyes regarded her with a bit more interest and a lot more curiosity now. She smiled at the animal, and waved her hand slightly. His response was that nutty head-tilt of his, and then his tongue appeared as he panted a little. Helen had a thought, and remembered that the porch was open at both ends as well as the middle. He could just back away if he felt he needed to, so she did about the least logical thing that could be done, but it made sense to her in an odd sort of way. She got out a large pot and filled it with water. Carrying it to the door and fumbling for a second, she got the door open and cautiously walked out, talking to him the whole time in a low calm voice. He backed up, and almost turned to leave. "Aw, come on," she said a bit sadly, "I don't have anything for you here. I'm trying the only thing I can think of, Buddy." The head tilted again, but he stood still and, she noted, he didn't tense. A big plus in her favor as far as survival was concerned, she thought, though that could change at any time. She walked forward and set the pot down, backing carefully away a step. He regarded her for a few moments, and then stepped forward to sniff at the pot. The mosquitoes were having a field day with her. She felt them, but didn't dare try to swat one right then. She felt the edge of one of the chairs against the side of her leg and very slowly sat down. It wouldn't matter much, but she wanted him to see her relaxed and not as a threat -- not that she could ever manage to be that to him. After what seemed like twenty minutes, he began to drink, experimentally at first, and then more quickly. His eyes never left her the whole time, so she began to speak to him again. "I don't know what to do," she said with a bit of a sigh, "I have a chance to buy this island, Buddy, and I think I can do it. But I'd have thought the big question for me would have been 'Do I really want to live here?'. Well, I'm pretty sure now that I do, you know? I'm not sure yet how to get through the winter here, but that's not the big issue right now. You are." She was a bit surprised when he stopped drinking for a second, and licked his lips, but then he began again. "Well anyway," she continued, "I do seem to like you quite a bit, and since you haven't killed me yet, I'm kind of thinking that you don't mind my being around here. I was sort of wondering if we could get along like neighbors, you and me." Helen knew that he couldn't understand her words, but it did make her feel a little less nervous to talk to him, and she admitted to herself that she really liked the way that he seemed to be listening to her anyway. She was surprised at how she wasn't even looking at him now. She found her gaze looking down at the boards in the darkness and the alternating pattern of light and dark cast by the light in the kitchen through the bars on the windows. She realized that he'd stopped drinking and looked over at him again. His eyes still looked steadily at her, but they seemed a bit less cold to her as he stepped a bit closer. The intelligence was still in evidence, however. She began to reach toward him again, "I wanted to thank you for today, what happened with the bear or um, bears, maybe, if that was another one. I don't know if he or they would have attacked me, but I know that I'd have probably been in big trouble without you there. So thanks, ok?" She touched his long ear and ran her finger behind it for a second before scratching lightly there, "I don't know much about wolves and I think you're pretty different from the little bit that I do know, but I'll tell you what, I'm going into town tomorrow to get some things and groceries. I don't think it would be a good idea to try and tame a guy like you, but I don't see why I can't do you the odd favor. So I'm going to see if I can get some big old soup bones. I want a couple to make soup and stew with, but I think you can have the rest if you'd like." She smiled widely now at him and the way that he seemed to take everything that she'd said in. She began to stand up slowly, "I've got to get some sleep now. I hope I see you around tomorrow sometime." She said it with a smile, and he watched her walk back to the door. Helen made sure to turn her back to him as she walked. Well it had worked the first time. As she opened the door, she looked back, and he still stood there looking at her. The tongue appeared again as she told him goodnight. Without another word, she turned out the light and walked up the stairs with only a quick side ward glance that told her he still stood there on the porch. She was covered in mosquito bites, but it didn't matter that much to her. Helen's mind was almost made up as she got back into bed, and she was asleep very soon after. Helen had been right on the money about a few things, one most of all. There was a lot of processing power sitting behind those yellow eyes. He sat and watched her as she went up the stairs, watching her disappear from the top down until at last her feet disappeared. He heard her footfalls on the floor above and the creak of the bed as she got in and put her head down. He sat down on his haunches for a while, considering. He'd been staring at her for most of the time for a reason that she'd never have considered. Staring and listening to the sound of her voice and the words that she'd said. He'd also been picking up her scent. It had been this that had caught his attention a few days ago, and he'd mostly been following her around ever since, he was so taken with it. Every person has their own individual scent to a creature with a well-developed sense for it. He'd watched her as she'd worked, the heat of the work bringing out more of her wonderful smell. He appreciated the strange scents that she seemed to add to it, but it was this one, her own individual scent that captivated him to a degree. Quite a degree, he admitted to himself -- enough for him to have stood there watching her over the bush until she'd looked up. He still couldn't believe his carelessness. Up till then, he'd watched her intently as she swam in the cove, marveling at her form. All of that had made him wonder about her, wonder enough to force his decision to walk down to the beach for a better look at this creature. He'd sensed her fear of him, but it had amazed him that she hadn't lost her mind on the spot in her fear. That she'd tried to feed him blueberries and stroke his face had shocked him. What she didn't know was that he loved blueberries too, but though he'd eat them off of about any other surface, he'd be damned if he was going to eat them off the sand there on the beach, and his mouth wouldn't let him eat them without some difficulty -- not like this, anyway. He considered the wonder of her some more. This hadn't been what he'd expected from her even now. She'd heard him there on the porch, and again mastered her fear to give him a drink of water. This human female who sat drinking tea in the middle of the night and even brought him water -- all while completely naked. He'd never seen anything like it. He'd almost snorted when she'd asked him not to take her arm off and again just now with her statement that he hadn't killed her yet. He hated the taste that the flesh of humans left in his mouth. He'd rather eat squirrel than humans. He'd tasted human tissue a time or two as he'd fought in his own defense, but eat it? Never had, and he wasn't about to start now. But this new talk that she was on about, he loved to listen to her soft voice. She wanted to buy the island? What did that mean? He had a thought that it might mean that there might be less people tramping around. He had a hope that it was what would happen. And she wanted to live there? Alone? He thought he could manage that as he thought of her nude form again as one hell of an improvement in the scenery. He was amazed that she'd thanked him for intervening with the bear. True, the animal would have found her fairly quickly both times, and it might not have gone well for her. Why had he done it? He wasn't certain, but he did not want harm to come to her now that they had seen each other. He didn't want this strange feeling to end soon, and the bear might have done that. Other than that, the bear was just as meddlesome as any of his kind, too slow and stupid for his own good. He thought about her again, and how she looked as she walked without clothes. He tried to remember how long it had been since he'd held a woman. It must be over seventy years now, not that it mattered. Listening again, he filtered out the usual night sounds, one by one, until he could hear her soft deep breathing. It told him that she slept. He had a strong urge to go to her now. Just to be there. Just to watch her sleep. He shook off the thought, and began to walk away. As he entered the forest, he remembered another thing that she'd said. Something about getting him soup bones. "Sssh..ssshh" He gave it up. He couldn't get the tongue inflections like this. Muscle groups shifted until he stood up tall on two legs in a halfway form that he preferred above the others. Maybe like this, he thought. Maybe if he practiced a little. He'd never really tried. Never had a reason to. A sigh escaped him. Not like her, he thought. "Ssssoup b-boness." He smiled to himself. "Soup bones." He liked her more and more. He began to walk through the black night a little quicker now, as silent as death, walking to where he knew there was a fresh kill. Her talk about soup bones had made him hungry. --------------------- Helen was up early the next morning. A quick coffee while she reflected and then she was on her way with her long wavy chestnut-colored hair in a loose braid. The day was looking a bit iffy at this point, but the ancient dial-up connection that she'd set up told her that storms were possible in the evening. Based on that, and the morning sunshine, she walked down to the cove, but now she kept her thoughts clear and paid attention, ready to change direction at the first sign of a bear. At first she thought that she was being just a bit paranoid, but it seemed to be a better plan than bumbling into one. Down in the cove, the thin sunshine had already warmed the place in the absence of the cool breeze. Helen looked around and decided that today would probably not leave her time to rent a chainsaw, but she wasn't bothered by a day here or there. She forced herself to wait about five minutes before looking up along the rim, but laughed anyway when she did because she saw him there. Today she felt a lot less trepidation, and though something told her not to, she waved at him anyway, and in a few seconds he trotted toward her across the sand. Her smile widened as she noticed that today his tail wagged more. It wasn't a "Thank God you're here" wag like you'd get from your dog, but she did see it. She thought they must have looked like a comical pair - the wolf and the woman - he stood listening to her, and she spoke of her plans for the day as she stood with her hands in the front pockets of her jeans wearing an old cable knit sweater over top. She had lots of time yet, she decided, and this had to be the only warm place on the whole island today, so she enjoyed it. She spoke of how she'd be really pleased once she'd gotten the beach cleared, and said that this was what she'd always wanted as she sat down. He seemed to sense the way that he loomed over her and stretched himself out as he enjoyed the sound of her voice. Helen was prattling on and she knew it. But whenever she stopped talking, he looked at her intently, so she found herself smiling at him and talking some more. At one point, he had his great head down on the sand near her leg, and she reached over to tousle the fur on top. Her reward was a deep and satisfied groan, and he slowly collapsed onto his side against her. His weight against her thigh pinched a bit between him and the ground, but it was no problem to adjust her position while staying in contact with him. She went on, wondering if it might be better to block the inlet with a tree or something to keep trespassers out,. "I did see a man's footprint here yesterday. Right over there. That wouldn't bother me that much, but I want this place to sunbathe, and I'd like to be sure that nobody can just sail on in here in a canoe or something." He took it all in as he stretched just a bit to push his nose under the edge of her sweater. He sniffed and then inhaled, getting the sweater's wool-ish smell, along with the denim, the fabric softener, and traces of the detergent. He filtered all of these out, and he was left with the smell of this human's soft skin. Thinking about that, he noticed the traces of soap, but it didn't distract him. He reveled in it all, but the moment was broken when he snorted playfully and his nose touched her bare side. Helen's reaction was a ticklish one, and he pulled back when she flinched with a laugh. She looked hard at him now that he'd rolled back upright and looked back at her. Her expression turned to a shocked smile, "You're trying to play with me!" He held the look for a moment, and then picked up the nearest paw and placed it across her forearm. It was heavy, but she wasn't pinned or anything. She looked at him and thought she saw a playful challenge in his expression. She pulled her arm free and tried to grab his foreleg just above the paw. The reaction was instant. He pulled it back, but the expression was unchanged, so Helen reached for the other one suddenly. He pulled that one back too and his head dove for her arm. She felt his wet tongue and the edges of his teeth, but he only used enough pressure to hold her. She laughed and pulled her arm free to try for his paw again. This continued until she had to call a halt because his nails were scratching her arms up. He was contrite, however, and licked her hand a little. "It's about time I headed into town. Thanks for the fun, Buddy." She wasn't sure if it had been such a good idea to play with him like that, but he'd shown a lot of restraint, and it wasn't lost on her that he could have easily broken the skin of her arm with his teeth. Truth be told, her arm was feeling a bit bruised, but it had still been fun. She stood up and began to walk up to the rim with her large friend tagging along. She stopped near the wildflowers to admire them now and then, before walking on her way. Every so often she'd let her arm rest lightly across his shoulders as they walked. He didn't seem to mind, she noticed and felt more and more like she'd managed something wonderful to gain his acceptance like this. As they neared the rocks leading down to the dock, she turned. "I'm going to go into town now, but I'll be back with food for me and maybe some for you too. I have to see what I can find, but the folks at the grocery seem to be pretty helpful. I'll see you when I get back, I hope." The wolf stood watching as she walked down to the dock. Just an Old Legend Ch. 03 As she got the outboard started, she thought about her waiting decision. It didn't seem like such a big deal now she decided, and untied the lines front and back, getting in and clunking into reverse. The boat pulled away from the dock, and once in the clear, she swiveled it and pulled into forward. As the boat swung slowly around, she looked up at the ridge above. It took a second, but there he was watching. She smiled and waved before feeding in some throttle, smirking to herself and feeling a little silly. He watched impassively from the bushes at the top. There was a part of him that agonized a little and wondered if she'd come back, but mostly he knew fairly well that she would. Hers was not what one might call a frenzied and terrified exit. He'd know if it was, he told himself. He'd seen a few. Besides, he had work to do. He headed for the small barn. Down on the beach, he looked around. There were several deadfalls that she hadn't cleared. Wolves can't move timber very well, but he wasn't concerned since he wasn't one. Within a few seconds, he wasn't a man either, but he got down to business all the same. A quick tug to see how anchored a trunk was in the sand, and he began to knock boughs off with swipes of his claws. Up to a certain size, they snapped at the first impact. A few needed to be told twice, and the largest required him to wrap his arms around them and pull. Only a very few required the old bow saw that he'd brought from the barn. He worked quickly, stopping often to clear away and pile it near where Helen had piled the driftwood. He turned to the largest deadfall. This one hadn't blown over in a storm or collapsed under the weight of a heavy winter's snow load. There had been a plot of soil near the edge of the rim and this one had grown there, he remembered. The soil had been eroded by wind and rain over many years and that had caused it to fall. It had fallen alive and died here on the beach, the lack of soil the cause of that too. He walked closer for a better look, though he was fairly certain of what he'd find, and one look at the bark gave him his answer. Ironwood. This type of hornbeam had been murder on the saw blades and axes of so many settlers trying to clear a patch of ground to feed themselves. Finding that one's land had a good stand of these caused many to just leave them be, hunting and tearing out any young ones. Finding that one's land was covered in them had caused more than a few to walk away altogether. He had a strong sense that she'd cleared the driftwood away for her own reasons. He didn't mind helping if that's what she wanted. He remembered what she'd said with a low grunt. He stopped for a moment in thought. He liked seeing her happy when she saw him. That was a very new feeling. It took some digging, but he was able to finally get the hold on it that he wanted. The last pull was a strain, but he didn't much care by then. It felt good to use what he'd been given - even if he hadn't exactly asked for this. All of his activity here had attracted the attention of several deerflies. They were on his shoulders and one was on his nose now as he strained. He stopped for a second to brush his snout under an arm to dislodge the little bastard. But he was on a roll now, having called up his strength, and he didn't do much more than that to impede them. Their bites irked him, but a little pain here and there was nothing, and it even goaded him on. With a groan and several cracks, the largest portion of the tree gave up at last and came free of the sand. He'd allowed himself one quiet roar with the exertion of the pull and the heft of it up high, but now stood with the old ironwood trunk over his head. He turned slowly, taking small shuffling steps, and got to where he wanted to be with it. Another dull groan from him, and it was airborne, sailing quietly for a second to land with a wet crash at the entrance of the inlet. He walked farther and began to wade in with a satisfied and furry smirk as he swung out his massive arms to get some fresh blood flowing through them. As an adjective, the word 'superhuman' might have applied to his strength, but it was a bit on the impotent side. He reached the trunk and looked carefully out into the channel beyond. The sudden cool weather was keeping most of the humans inside today so there were no water skiers out, but he still peered carefully along the shore to either side. You never knew when one of them would come along close in to shore with one of those silent motors as they fished. Satisfied, he heaved and tugged to get the old wood where he wanted it. Now the inlet was blocked, but the lake water could still get past it without restriction to keep the water in the tiny cove fresh. He walked back out and the water that clung to his coat ran streaming to the sand as he changed to the form that had no fur as he searched for and found a light bough with a few leafed branches on it. With that, he swept the beach of his tracks before picking up the saw and turning to go. He wasn't finished yet. He stopped at the top of the ridge for a moment and thought about how she had stood here. He looked at the wild flowers, trying hard to remember the ones that she'd smiled at or leaned down to smell. Setting the saw down again, he picked a handful, leaving the stems long where he could. Finally, he carried them back along with the saw. Stan Beamish sat looking across the diner booth table at Helen. They'd run into each other on the street, and she'd suggested that she buy lunch. She reminded him of one of his young granddaughters, but all grown up. He found himself wishing that she might indeed grow up to be much like this remarkable young woman in front of him. He found his admiration for her growing, but along with that came his concern for her. "I must say that I'm pleased that you've taken to the island so well, Helen, but your interest to purchase it leaves me a bit baffled to say the least. Did you discover gold or something?" Helen smiled and shook her head, telling him that she just loved the place, and that it was perfect for her needs. Beamish pointed out that it wouldn't be quite so lovable in winter, but she said that she was willing to learn to adapt as necessary if she had to. "Why not just continue to rent from me then?" he asked. Helen shrugged, "I wouldn't mind that, Mr. Beamish, and it might come to that if I cannot arrange the necessary financing, but the reason that I wish to purchase it stems from my feeling that I've found my place there. I was thinking about that and remembered that you told me that you had trouble renting it, and thought that maybe we could come to an agreement if you were willing to sell." "I did admit to you that I had difficulty renting it to the locals, Helen, but this is a tourist area - summer and winter. I have rented it to vacationers quite often. At a good price, I might add." Helen allowed her face to show just a hint of a smile, "Perhaps quite often, Stan, but not lately. I inquired at both of the marinas in town, and neither of them could remember it being rented for longer than a week within the past decade. There was never much turnover, and absolutely none of the renters who made purchases at the marinas ever returned. They were just one-time deals. But I was told a few hair-raising tales when I asked. That's a lot of up-keeping expense, the way that I see it, with not much return. So I thought of other possible uses for the place. The outfitters and the tackle shop told me that no one will hunt there since there is always a shortage of game on the island. Moose and deer have even been introduced in the past, but there are never any to be found by Spring, every single time that it has been attempted." She leaned forward, "Look, Stan. I'm pretty sure that I want it, but I'm not about to pay blood for it. You're just trying to jack me on the price, so that I don't fall over when you tell me at the meeting. I don't blame you for trying to make a buck, that's your business. But if you try to highball me, I'll just walk. I'll likely stay the summer then and leave with fond memories if your opening price leaves a sour taste in my mouth. If you're reasonable and I can't afford it or move you, I might rent over the winter. But don't turn an opportunity to be rid of it away for the sake of squeezing me on this. I have a load of artsy friends who may also want to move here. If we can meet on the price, guess whose realty office I'll be pimping like crazy." Beamish sat back. "Listen, I need to know this. Have you seen or heard anything unusual there? I know it's only been a week or so. Was there anything?" Helen shook her head. It was as close to lying as she wanted to come. "I was born in the city, Stan. But I spent a few summers on fire watch, I've done geology surveys way the hell away from civilisation, and we had a cottage in the woods when I was a girl growing up. I don't jump out of my skin very easily. I've heard the noises that trees make when they rub together in the wind, and I've seen my friends freak out over the sounds of a huge beast as it came crashing though the woods. I don't know what it's called but there is a bird with rather large feet that kicks up a lot of dead leaves in the woods looking for bugs. No Stan, the most that I'll admit to on the island is sign of bears. And so far they've left me alone." Stan was feeling a bit better, but felt that he had to go the one extra step. "Do you, or have you ever hunted, Helen?" She shrugged, "I have, though it's not my kettle of fish. My ex-husband is a hunting fanatic, and he's very responsible about it. I don't mind the meat at all, but once you've shot something, the real work starts. I'd rather just buy my roasts at the market when I feel like one. It happens rarely, and I see no need to kill something just because I want to eat some kind of blade roast." "But you're no stranger to firearms, then?" Beamish asked. She shook her head. "Alright, Helen," he said, "I'll level with you. I'm pretty certain that you and I can come to terms when we meet on Wednesday. I've got to hand it to you, that's a great head you've got on your shoulders, and I find myself admiring you more and more. But... well look, I have some concerns for your safety, and don't look so shocked. You'll be out there alone." He looked around and saw that no one paid them any attention. "If we're done here, I'd like you to come to my office. As far as I'm concerned, in a very short time, you'll own yourself an island, but there are more things involved than just the deed to the place." Half an hour later, Stan Beamish opened his personal safe. "I was out there one fall, years ago to close the house up for the winter. Now I told you about the murder there and the legend, but this isn't one of those campfire moments. I was reaching behind the sink to shut off the water valves and I found something. A false panel in the wall. The murder occurred very long ago, and all of the investigating parties have long gone to their final rewards. I stared at what I'd found, and just couldn't see the good of getting the law all upset all over again. It's bad enough for business as it is. I sure didn't want the local paper getting wind of this - I'd never be able to rent the place again." He walked to the door and locked it, before opening the box on his desk a little bit. He took out a sheaf of old papers. "These are the letters that the original owner's wife had sent him. I once took them to be translated, and you'll find the translations in each letter's envelope as well. She was very much in love with him, and I'm sure it was mutual. There is one letter to her from him that I'd guess he'd never mailed." He pulled out a black nylon shoulder bag, and handed it over to her, "I bought this bag to carry the thing in. Unless you and I have major issues Wednesday, I think you ought to have this. It's a cut-down, side-by-side 10-guage. I tried it, and I can tell you that it's quite a cannon, but it does still work. I think you ought to have it. Personally, besides breaking a lot of laws, I am afraid that you might need it one day. I've cleaned and cared for it over the years, but now I want it gone. If you don't want it, I'll just lose it overboard one day, but I think it would be wise to hang onto it. You'll find a small cleaning kit inside as well with swabs and everything." Helen unzipped the bag and pulled the thing half-way out. It was old, there was no doubt of it, but she could see that it had been well cared-for. She shrugged, "Maybe I'll lose it too, or just call the law and tell them I found it around the old place." He shook his head, "I don't recommend that. At the very least, you'll then have all of the local twits re-telling the tale and half the teenagers in town trying to bring their dates there after dark, but soon it will likely be your business what you do. But I think it belongs there, and I'd feel better knowing that you have it, just in case. If we fall through in the deal, I'll take it back." She opened the box wide and stared. She was looking at the butt ends of shotgun shells. There were originally twenty in the box, and perhaps half of them had a dab of red paint on the ends. Three were missing. She looked at Stan with raised eyebrows. He shrugged, "Some are buckshot, some are slugs. They were all hand-loaded. The ones with the paint?" He took a deep breath. "The red ones are slugs too - but the slugs are a type of solid silver. That's why I believe that this is the murder weapon. The slug kicked the crap out of the tree I pointed it at and that's when I noticed that the slug was a hardened silver alloy." Helen thought for a moment before shoving it back into the bag and zipping it closed. The wooden box went into her large bag. She looked at Stan for a few seconds, "You really believe that I'll need this?" He shrugged, "Better to have it and not need it, I think. Bears can get nasty at certain times of the year, if you take my meaning." Helen looked at the realtor dubiously, "Hardened silver slugs," she said, "For bears?" The old man shrugged, "I don't see why they wouldn't work on a bear just as well..." She had a strange feeling, but didn't want to sound like a nutbar anymore than he did. "Just as well as two of them did on a woman once? Or maybe you're thinking of something else? Have YOU seen anything there, Stan?" He nodded, "Once only, and only for a split-second, so I was never sure what it was that I caught a glimpse of. I spent the day there fishing after I found that. A few beers with my sandwich lunch, and I fell asleep on the couch. It was getting dark when I woke up, and I ran my fat ass off getting down to the dock to get home. I thought I heard something behind me, but didn't dare stop to look. I started walking fairly quickly, but in the end I was just running as fast as I could. As I pulled my boat out of there, I'm sure that I saw something huge and dark silhouetted there on the rocks above. A glimpse was all I got of it, but Helen, what I saw there was no man, and it sure as hell wasn't a wolf either." He sat back in his chair, "I'm a fat old man now, but I've tramped all over this area all of my life and seen about everything there is to see around here. Never saw anything like that before or since. That's why I want you to hang onto this, alright? Just do an old man who wishes you the best a favour and carry this with you when you're out, that's all." Helen looked at him for a second and believed that he saw something. What it was, whether real, imaginary, or just a trick of the light, she had no idea. She shouldered the bag with a nod and walked to the door, "I'll see you Wednesday morning, Stan." She walked to her car and out the bag into the trunk. She had some grocery shopping to do. Just an Old Legend Ch. 04 On her way back to the island, Helen sat thinking about a lot of things. The wind was coming up and the skies that had looked foreboding earlier now offered a bit of hope since the clouds were showing patches of blue. She throttled back enough to just maintain a bit of headway. She needed to think. Her eyes fell on the nylon bag and she picked it up. A quick look around told her that there were no other watercraft within sight. Now would be the perfect time and place to lose this troublesome detail that she really hadn't wanted to accept from Stan in the first place. As was usual for her, she thought, as her hand began to open the zipper on the bag, she realized that she was probably going to do the wrong thing. It seemed to be her way. Helen lived her life quietly and just tried to enjoy small pleasures where she could. The artist in her would be taken and captivated by the smallest things, sometimes - a dew drop sitting on a single petal of a daisy, or the patterns created by a gust of wind on the surface of still water. She had a bit of a photographic memory and often saw things which she could and would recall later to create a scene if she chose to paint it in any of several mediums. But there was a dark side to that. The same memory ability would cause her to recall and reflect on things which she didn't necessarily wish to think about. At times, her memories could really bring her down as they replayed in her mind. She'd watched all of her friends fall in love and get married - and then divorced. She'd even decided once that she wouldn't do what they'd done. Helen had resolved stay well clear of that trap, since the only tangible results that she could see were rich lawyers, bitter people of both sexes and children. She thought it might be better in the long run for her to only date now and then if she found someone who might hold her interest for a time. Just to keep things simple. She'd told herself that it wouldn't happen to her, this tangle of unhappy complications that everyone found themselves bound and chained in the center of. She just wanted to live and keep her life simple, straightforward and simple. And what had she done? Why, she'd fallen in love with Pete. Excellent plan, that had been, she smirked. Well it had been a bit of a storybook romance, she remembered fondly, and everything had gone so well too with the two of them living a very real fairytale in bliss together. But she'd been raised to think for herself and to always question. Not bad, as far as that went for personal qualities, she thought, but she recognized that she did have a few others that hadn't helped the mix. She could be as argumentative as hell, and could be so stubborn in an argument that she'd stick to her guns even if it was clear to anyone and everyone that her position was just wrong. On occasion she'd take it way past the point where she should have abandoned it purely as a point of personal pride. That had cost her so much, she realized sadly, especially with Pete. There had been one fight between them that she just wouldn't let go of, and she raised it to him time and again, long after he'd declared her to be right, because it just hadn't been worth it as far as he was concerned. He loved her and didn't want an almost academic, and stupid argument to come between them. He'd even begged her to drop it. But no, she'd been too hard-headed for their own good. The unions at two of his family's factories had wild-catted at the worst possible time for a work stoppage. Pete was beside himself trying to deal with the strikes, find out the causes to deal with them, and he was frantically scratching around for ways to meet the contracted deadlines for product delivery. It had taken him two years of hard work to procure the contracts in the first place. Right in the middle of that, and for reasons which Helen herself could never explain to herself even now, she'd forced their old issue again. It had taken Helen a couple of years to realize that the very qualities in her that had brought this thing on between them were among the ones that he'd most admired in her, her willingness to doggedly pursue an end and her unending wellspring of determination. Show her an underdog, and her heart was with him or her. That had always been her first gut reaction, and Pete was so proud of her for that. But not that time. She'd flown at him once more over what should have been dropped long before, throwing it in his face when his mind was elsewhere. She shook her head once more thinking back. She'd wanted to pick a fight, and he was beset from all sides as it was, trying to keep over two thousand workers employed, never mind keeping the cash flow up and the customers at bay. When he wouldn't take the bait, she'd slapped him, and his reaction had been instant. He'd pushed her from him - hard, and she'd fallen backwards. He looked at her in shock, and then down slowly to his own tightly clenched right fist in horror. She could see that it killed him that he'd reacted like this even though he hadn't struck her. Curling that fist had been automatic as a secondary reaction, and maybe it was the stress, but to him it was something that he'd never have allowed himself to do. He'd opened his hand then and shook his head in disbelief, asking her if she was hurt. But her blood was up then, and she'd spat the magic words at him that shattered the spell and ended the fairytale. And that had been that. Since that time, she'd lived alone. He'd gone alone for a time, but was now remarried to a far smarter woman. They'd met once, and Helen was happy for them. Her replacement could complement him perfectly in his world and unlike her, she knew what he needed from her and when. She wished that she'd had that ability. Most of all she wished that of all of her replacement's graces, she'd have been happy with just the ability to keep her mouth shut at the right times and her razor-sharp tongue caged behind her teeth that once. Helen nodded to herself, he deserved to be happy now. She had a lot now because of him, she thought sadly. But she didn't have him anymore. For almost seven years now, she'd have traded everything she owned, everything that she'd done, and probably her soul if they could just go back to that terrible day. What he'd needed then was her support, and her mind on the problem, as he'd asked. She smiled, he'd asked her for her help, an idea, something. That was Pete. His respect for her was boundless. A pity that it had been misplaced. Here, she thought, in the middle of nowhere, she suddenly had a few options. She could just lean over the side, and slowly sink the bag letting it fill first to be certain that it never came up again. Looking over the side she saw a very unhappy woman looking back. Someone who had up to now just accepted her unhappiness and carried on. She could take the bag with her and keep it just in case, as the old man had pleaded with her to do, as much as she didn't like it. Or,... She could just,... fully accept her failure. Right here and now. She pulled the old scattergun fully out, and reached into her bag for the box. Taking one of the shells loaded with buckshot between two fingers, she opened the breech and shifted her grip on the shell to use her thumb and slide it home into the left chamber. There were tears in her eyes as she snapped the gun shut. A bit of her own determination would go a long way now, she thought. This old thing had been turned into an illegal weapon the day that it had been sawed short so long ago. She wondered why and listened to the gulls. Her eyes went to the horizon where she could just see the island which with a bit of luck now she could own very shortly. She thought about the big wolf for moment, and was hopeful still for more of his friendship, as strange as their relationship was. And then she looked at the old envelopes - letters written between two lovers long ago. She wondered if it had gone badly for them the same as it had gone for her and Pete, but with a higher price paid. She wiped her eyes. Looking at the thing in her hands, she saw the safety, and the two triggers. She looked at the island in the distance once more and her thumb lifted to the breech release. The shotgun cracked open, and she pulled the shell out and put it back into the wooden box. No, she thought, It didn't matter anymore that the fairytale had turned to shit. She'd try to make her place in the world right there. She could always take the easy way out, she decided. She snapped the empty breech shut and slid the thing back into the bag. Looking down at the envelopes, she carefully closed the old box and opened the throttle on the motor, pointing the bow toward the island. What had gotten into her, she wondered? How could she be having these thoughts while there was a home for her right there, and a jeezly-huge wolf to be fed? And, she smirked, now there was no way that she was not going to read the translations of those old love letters. She chuckled. There surely can't be a woman alive who could leave them alone. ------------------ There was another secluded little pool on the island. It was just a little depression between the rocks of the shore, hidden by a tangle of plant growth. Not much to it, really, unless you were someone who wanted to wash off a day's sweat and dust. In the distance, a sightseeing tour boat went by, the guide's voice droning on that off to their right was an island with a tragic past, and the rest was lost to him in the breeze. He ducked his head under and ran his fingers through his hair for as long as he could hold his breath before coming up for air. This was just how he'd always washed during the warmer months, and it sure beat rubbing his body with snow as he did in the winter. He stepped out and looked at his reflection for a moment. This was the closest that he could come to what he'd been born as. His hair was still dark, any aging that would normally have happened to him gone with the arrival of this curse of his. He supposed that if there were any others of his kind now that they probably didn't live for very long. There was a lot of madness to this at the beginning, a lot of self-destructiveness. But being where he was, and having the will that he did had pulled him through, though he'd often wondered about that. The pain of the first transformation had been nothing compared to his anguish and the soul-crushing guilt for what he'd done when he'd killed what his wife had become. It had been decades before he could come to grips with it afterward. Working and waiting and never giving up hope for Danaya. Worrying for her fragile health and if she'd even ever get to his arms, and then to find that she was no longer the sweet girl who had held his heart so when they were courting. She'd become something else after being attacked one night on a lonely road. He cursed himself endlessly for wanting a better place for them and leaving to make their humble dream come true. If he'd never left, she wouldn't have been alone there that night. He didn't know what he'd have done, but she'd had no chance there without him, no chance at all. And the cruelest thing about it all was the knowledge that it was manageable, now that he himself had experienced the curse. The first while was lost in confusion, but afterward - that was when the full impact came to him. Only afterward once he'd found that he was still in charge, still himself inside what he had become. He could change at will with three forms to alternate between, each with its advantages or disadvantages to any situation. If he'd only known, he'd never have done the terrible thing that damned him in his mind. Danaya had tried to tell him that it was this way, that they could still live and love like this, but it was beyond what his simple rustic upbringing would allow. To him at the time, this was just evil. Now? He smirked sadly, it just was what it was. He supposed that he could pass himself off as what he once was and live among them. But for the way that he spoke, and the need that he had sometimes to hunt something - anything. He looked at himself with a small laugh. That, and the fact that he had no clothes to wear while hiding in the crowd. His old clothes had worn out years before, and anyway, their styles had changed. His hand came up to his chest and the remains of the bite that had begun it all. His fingers slid down the ridges created by his abdominal muscles. He tried to remember what he'd looked like before. Much like this, he knew it, but this curse had added its flavoring to everything that he was now. Even in human form he was different from before in some small ways and one very big one. He was better than he'd been. He'd grown up fairly muscular - the by-product of good farm nutrition and as much physical work as any human could ever do. But what he was now... He felt the mosquito settle on his upper thigh and moved a hand to brush it off before the bite. It was an almost unconscious movement, but he watched in the reflection of the pool as his abdominal muscles tensed even more with the reach and his eyes darted to the knots of muscles there under his skin over his ribs. Another one, or maybe the same mosquito went for his shoulder, and he watched as his arm reached for the spot. It was a pity, he thought, that today nobody needs to work as he did in his day. Back then, a man like he was could easily earn a living with his back or feed his family working his farm. He smiled, a man such as he was now could work himself to riches with a bit of sweat. He could probably do the work of seven or ten men easily. He looked at his face reflected in the pool and his mind drifted to a dim memory clouded over even now with old longing from so long before. There had been one young girl who had loved him from their childhood together. She'd been all that he could have ever wanted, he remembered with a smile. They'd wanted so much to get older, and couldn't wait for that time to come. But life had thrown them a rock in the road when he'd moved away with his parents. He'd tried for a long time, but could never find where she'd gone as well afterward. The memory pained him a bit and her lovely young face faded in his mind. He hoped that she'd found someone for herself who could take care of her and her difficulty as he'd done for her. God knows she deserved to be taken care of by a good man. After growing up in another province of the mountainous land where he'd come from, he'd had his share of farm girls back in his day, but never thought about his looks very much and never had a thought about giving his heart to anyone. It had taken Danaya to make him care what he looked like, hopeful for that one dance at the village festival so long ago. She'd been the only one who had somehow gotten through to him. Afterward, they'd each admitted to the other that they'd been hopeful for that one evening for months, just for the wishful chance at the other's heart. They'd both prayed for the chance, and vowed that if fate would only smile at them once, then this was the one chance now. He sighed. They'd been so happy then. Danaya had a temper and was sometimes spiteful, but then he supposed that it came with the territory. He came back to himself and changed to the tall furry beast that he was. He shook his head after a glance at what he'd become. He didn't know why he'd never used the gun on himself the first while, other than the thought that it was wrong to his religion. It was what he really should have done rather than try to live like this. It took him years to decide it, but by then the fat man had found the gun and taken it away. He spat on the rocks. He should have torn the fool apart when he'd had the chance of it. Well it hadn't happened, that was all there was to it. But now? What was going on now? He knew that he was becoming infatuated with the woman who seemed to like him, and even smiled and laughed when she saw him. He wondered about that. Was he this lonely that he'd fall over the only female within miles? He decided that couldn't be the way it was. By any standard she was beautiful. He wondered at what he wanted from this. In the fantasy world that his grandparents had painted for him with their stories when he was a child, you were supposed to just accept it when magic came your way. He snorted. This was magic? This would get even worse for him soon and he knew it. All that he could ever do was to follow her around and try to keep bad things from happening to her. He sure couldn't ever let her see what he really was. He suddenly had a thought then. She seemed to want to be a friend to him. He might not deserve more than that, but he'd take it if it was all that he would ever be allowed in this prison. He decided that it would have to do, and that was the end of it. If she needed a friend to keep her company, he'd be happy to be her friend. It would be unsatisfactory, he knew, but it would be better than nothing. He'd loved a girl his age from their first meeting as very small children. She'd been lost to him due to circumstance. He'd married Danaya and after years apart, it had become a horrific nightmare at the end. He'd been alone here with his dark pain for so long. Now he couldn't love anyone as a man because he no longer was a man. He was something else whether he liked it or not. Now all that he might have was the friendship of a lovely woman who talked to him and seemed to enjoy his company. Not much, he thought, but maybe it was enough to keep him sane. He completed the transformation and bounded away as a wolf. --------------------- Helen was in the kitchen. The potatoes had been peeled, cut and washed, the bones boiled and removed and some set aside for soup. The weather would turn colder with the arrival of a new front and to Helen, that meant you needed something that would stick to you and warm your insides. Carrots were peeled and in, chunks of brazed stewing beef too, beans, corn, whatever she had that she thought would go well. She even toyed with the idea of making drop biscuits with cheese and garlic powder. The whole thing was going nicely, she thought. Now all it needed was time. She looked out and decided that the weather couldn't hold forever, so if she wanted to get her ass onto a beach towel, this might be it for a couple of days. Getting a few things together, she was almost out the door when she saw the bag on the table. She hesitated, and then threw a couple of shells into the side pocket of the bag before zipping it up and slinging it over one shoulder. Let's just see how much of a pain in the ass this thing can be, she thought. This might be the first and last time that she granted the realtor his wish. She was about halfway to the cove when she saw him coming. She couldn't believe that a living thing short of a cheetah could cover ground like that. She was sure that he'd moved faster in the forest, but here she could see him motor along in the open, and he was clearly happy. She'd hate to see what he looked like coming her way if he were pissed. Then he was beside her, nosing her hand onto his head and back, and sniffing to see where she'd been. Helen didn't even think about it. She just began to tell him what had happened to her in town, where she'd been, who she'd seen as though she'd just met her friend at the mall. She'd just accepted that he'd want to hear everything, and she told it as though he were human. She wouldn't dream of treating him like a dog. But after a minute, something began to bother him, she noticed. He sniffed more insistently, his nose in solid contact with her clothing. He smelled something familiar about her, where she'd been, or rather, he thought, who she'd been near. He knew that smell. Just an Old Legend Ch. 04 He came around the front of her and blocked her. She was very surprised at this and a bit alarmed. His snout now poked against her sweater, and when he exhaled to make room for more sniffing, his breath felt hot against her skin through the material of the sweater. The breast on the side where he'd exhaled was all in favor of hot, but on the whole, it was rather invasive, she thought. "Buddy," she protested, "Hey! I was in town, alright? Come on, my ex-husband wasn't this bad when I'd go out! I met up with Mr. Beamish, the real estate agent and we talked. I have to talk to him. He's the guy who I'll be buying the island from." Her hand went to his nose, and she laid her fingers on top of the snout and pushed. The wolf stopped sniffing and stared at her eyes. "Just stop it, ok? I wish you could understand me, because you know I tell you everything, right? You wouldn't have to do this whole vacuum cleaner thing to me. All you'd have to do is listen to me." she looked into the now serious eyes that looked back. "Ok," she laughed, "and THEN you could do the vacuum cleaner thing like a jealous husband. Sheesh." His nose began to wander to her right. There was something there, he thought, something... someth- He jumped suddenly. Helen looked at him twenty feet away. Gun oil. He snorted hard, trying to be rid of the odor. Gun oil and gunpowder. Gun oil, gunpowder and traces of cleaning solvent. He stared at her, trying to keep his hackles down. She had a gun. Helen wasn't stupid. While she'd thought that it might not have bothered him to take the gun along if it were kept under cover, she was now kicking herself for forgetting about his nose. She had to make this better now and quickly. She began to walk as though it was no big deal. "Yeah, it's a gun," she said airily, "but don't you worry yourself, stud muffin. This is only along in case we get trouble from one of those bears. I can't let you do all the work, can I?" She looked back at him standing there. "Come on, honey. I don't shoot my friends. Call it a personal policy. I just consider it such bad form, you know?" She didn't look back again, but kept walking, telling him everything. It worked eventually. He realized that if he wanted to hear her sweet voice, he'd better get where she was. He decided that if she'd wanted to kill him, she'd likely have done it before now. And anyway, he thought, all she really had to do was to be near him and NOT talk to begin the process of killing him. Besides, he'd suddenly discovered the quiet joy of walking the trail behind her. His new friend had flat-out amazed him again, he admitted to himself as he followed her. Her wavy hair was tied back in a long loose braid that always seemed to want to be on the verge of coming undone, but never really did. It was a bit of a mystery to him as he trotted along, mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the shape of her legs in those jeans. He realized that she was just walking, but he appreciated it all the same. The thought came to him that if she were to playfully strut just once for only about fifteen feet from this angle, well, he'd likely just fall over. After some distance, Helen turned to look back once more and almost doubled over in laughter at his expression. He closed the distance between them and she put her arm around his huge neck to pull him close to her as she ruffled the fur for a moment, "You know, I've had arguments with people before over whether dogs, and I guess wolves now, have the ability to smile or not. I said that they couldn't, that it was just what people wanted to see in their faces." She looked into those shining yellow eyes and grinned, "Shows you what I know, doesn't it?" Her fingers drifted up to the point of one tall ear and back down, "You are the most handsome guy I've ever seen, Buddy. And don't think I'm not thankful for meeting you here. I've never minded being alone all that much, I guess, but having you around is so much better." She slid her hand over his sleek fur and pounded the flat of her hand against his powerful shoulder affectionately. Her reward was his pleased look. She felt the power of the way that he was built and it pleased her so much now just to be allowed to be his friend like this. A thought came to her as she held his head against her, really tousling his fur affectionately. Because of his size, that had him looking up at her with the swell of one of her breasts over his left eye. It gave him a roguish look as he grinned in his way, almost as though he was winking at her. "Baby? You must be some kind of love machine to the girl wolves around here." She winked at him, "A big, gorgeous, handsome boy like you? I'll bet they come running from everywhere for your attention when they need you." She turned slightly to look at the eyes under his raised eyebrows, "You do have a girlfriend or five or ... at least eight, don't you?" She nodded with a chuckle, "Must be at least eight. I'll bet they just hate having to wait for their turns with you." It made her laugh to think about it, "I'd probably love to see the DVD of that show - 'Buddy the Stud Muffin does the Wolfpack' or something like that. I don't have any dirty movies, Buddy, but that one?" She laughed a bit more, "I'd keep that one right out on the coffee table." Helen couldn't say how she knew it. There was no change to his expression that she could see, but she instantly regretted her laughing comment and was glad that he couldn't understand her. Somehow she was suddenly certain that there was no female here for him, no hopeful wolf-bitch for him to mount or curl up with. She thought about what the winters must be like here, long, cold and lonely. He was so obviously different from any kind of dog or wolf. She tried to picture him trying to mate with a regular wolf bitch. There was just no way. It made her a little sad for him. She had no idea what a female canine would consider attractive, but whatever it was that would cause a female to want him, he had to have tons of it. But he was all alone. She hadn't known him for very long, but to her, that just wasn't right, somehow. He stared at those soft green eyes for a moment. There was a twinge of sadness in his chest for a second as he thought about the limitations of their relationship here, but overall he was happy that she was here with him. He closed his mouth and strained just a little as he pointed his nose toward her. He had to be careful now. He strained just a little more, looking as though he wanted to get just a little closer, but was not quite able to. He willed her to look into his eyes. He wanted to admire the dusting of freckles that he saw there on her face, but he maintained eye contact with those green orbs. He laid it on a bit more and pulled his ears back and down a bit. A little more, just a little closer... Helen saw him try to reach her. She wondered about it briefly. He seemed to want to get closer without appearing threatening in any way. He was so regal, she thought, so gentle-looking when he wanted to be. A brief thought of warning came to her as she saw his face approach so slowly, but his eyes drew her in. She leaned down just a little, wondering what he wanted that would make him strain so much trying to reach her. Those eyes of his were mesmerizing as she felt herself drawn closer. And then he sprang his trap and lunged. Helen recoiled and tried to get her free arm up defensively, but it was too late. He'd made out that he had to stretch to reach, when he'd really had plenty of reach left for this. His tongue was everywhere in an instant and he licked her as fast as he could, knowing that he only had the briefest of moments before she pulled away. "Gah!" Helen sputtered, wiping his saliva with her sweater. He'd gotten her from her forehead to her throat. When she looked, he stood there with the most self-satisfied grin that she could have ever imagined. The moment was over and his demeanor had changed. He looked completely different now. Now he was every inch the rogue, thoroughly pleased with himself. He trotted off in front of her, leading the way now. He'd gotten what he was after. He decided that he liked the taste of her freckles. And those lips... Helen stumbled along behind him, spitting at the bitter taste in her mouth and shaking her head, wondering how she'd let herself be sucked in so easily. "You frenched me!" "Eww," She spit again, "You're a dirty scoundrel, Buddy!" He walked for a few steps and pranced just a bit as he listened to the grumbling and muttered words from behind him. Her voice was low as she spit some more and tried to wipe her tongue and lips against the material of her sweater, anything to lose that taste. "...a low-down ... sneaky, scheming ... rotten ..." Helen remembered her own dog from her childhood and the way that he'd licked his ... It hit her that he must do the same thing and she recoiled. "AH!" she shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought. She spit even more now. He didn't look back. He knew where she was headed. By the time that they'd neared the beach, all was forgiven, though barely. Helen told him not to do that again and he'd looked so contrite and apologetic that she'd put her arm over his shoulders again as they walked. She caught his look, though. He was going to try it again at some point and she knew it. She stopped for a moment and bent down a little waving her finger at him. "Uh-uh," she said. "Don't do that again. No." He licked her finger and she turned away rolling her eyes to continue walking and tried like hell not to laugh. They're all the same, she thought, some have fur and some drive Corvettes or some other sports cars, but deep down, they're all the same. Down on the beach, she kept up the patter, telling him about how she'd talked to the marina operators and the outfitters to get a real picture of how busy the property had been. He was impressed, admitting to himself that he'd never have thought of it - but then he was only a poor farmer, back when he was a poor farmer. Helen set the nylon bag down, spread out the towel and started taking off her clothes to catch at least a few rays. She'd just set the last of her clothes down when she looked over at him. His eyes were hard to read, but she was sure that she'd never seen them that big. And then his tongue flopped out of his mouth like so much bad punctuation and Helen laughed and laughed, "I can't remember the last time a man looked at me like that, but thanks Buddy. I sure needed that!" The air in the cove was still fairly warm, and she thought that she might get about an hour in before the sun lost its juice for the day. Her chatter tapered off until she was still, lying there on her front. He watched her, looking over at the bag now and then. He didn't like it. He listened to her breathing, waiting for her to doze. When he thought she'd gotten there, he walked very quietly and as much as he hated the stink of it, was just forcing his teeth to close on the strap. He intended to lose this in the bushes quickly for her own good. He'd come back for it later. "No." He let go of the strap and turned to see her eyes open and looking at him. "Please leave that alone, Buddy. Come here." She rolled onto her side as he walked to her and she reached up to rub his ear. It was a big ear on a big head and it was farther to reach than she'd have thought at first, though he tried to lower his head for her. "I'd almost think that you were up to some mischief there. Look, just stop getting spooked by that bag. I'd only ever pull that out if there's a bear that's too interested. That's not for you. You might not know it or care, but you're pretty much my closest friend right now." Helen scratched him lightly under his chin and he looked to be in a moment of bliss as she did it. "You've shown me that I can trust you and you show me that more and more. So if I can trust you, you need to trust me a little too, ok?" She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. He stood looking down at her and trying to deal with the emotions that her gentle words had brought to him. She'd called him her friend. He knew that she had no way to know, but he was on the edge of being overwhelmed here. She'd spoken of trust. He supposed that this did take a large measure of it from her point of view. He hadn't thought of being able to trust anyone in... He shook his head at the thought of it. After a few minutes of silence, he began to sniff her skin. He just began near her ribs and went from there. Helen found his breath something of a thrill and she tried hard to remain still when his whiskers touched her now and then. He was astounded that she had let his mouth this close to her pretty throat. He kept breathing her in. He wondered about this - he'd never been this taken with anyone's skin scent before. It was a marvel to him. He thought briefly about biting her just enough to get his saliva into her bloodstream, but as appealing as that was, it was not something that he'd just do. That had been the cause of all of their misfortunes, his and Danaya's. How could he spread misery like his? And not to the only one who even liked him, though she didn't know the danger that she willingly placed herself in. Well, he supposed that it was much the same thing. She was showing her trust here to an animal that she believes to be wild. But while the animal whom she lets smell her lovely skin is far wilder, he realized that he was an animal just the same. In either case, she could die in a heartbeat. He smelled over her navel. Mother of God, he thought, how he wanted to... "Hey!" Helen's eyes flew open. Just at the bottom of her vision she saw his huge shoulders, and then they were gone, followed by a soft thump on the sand. She raised her head and saw him lying with his head on the sand between his paws. "Way too close. That's enough of that." Helen made a point of locking her eyes onto his as he looked up a little apologetically. "Not allowed." She sat up and rubbed the big head with a smile, "Come on, we ought to get going. Dinner should be about ready," She looked intently in his eyes and smiled a bit wider, "I did promise you something earlier and I've got some soup bones for you. I just hope I didn't let you down, but I think you don't have any other girlfriends who can cook at all. I probably win with my lousy cooking by default." She stood up and pulled her clothes on, scooped the blanket and turned to get the bag. Just as she'd lifted it, she stopped. They'd been here the better part of an hour, she thought. How could she have not noticed this? She stared and turned to see the now-cleared beach, where yesterday there had been dead-falls that she couldn't have moved with a tractor. She looked at the inlet suddenly, wondering who had come in through there but now saw the dead tree blocking it. She walked to where the tree had been wrenched out of the sand, spinning to look for tracks, but the beach had obviously been swept clean. Walking to the piles of wood, she noted that some had even been sawn. Who the hell had done this? And why? The wolf walked to her and just touched her hip with his body. Helen looked at his yellow eyes, wondering. Buddy must know everything that goes on here, she thought. There is just no way that anybody could just come here, do a ton of work and leave without his knowing something about it. She laid her hand on his head and her thumb caressed him between his eyes, "I'd bet that you saw whoever did this, huh? Jesus, Buddy, I really wish you could talk to me right now. I need to know what the hell is going on here." She squatted and opened the bag. He grew apprehensive for a moment as he watched her pull out the old gun - his gun! She loaded the two shells in an instant, snapping the thing shut and setting the safety as though she'd been doing that all of her life. She was amazing, he thought. Danaya had trouble picking it up - most of the time she refused to even touch it. Helen slid it back into the bag, but left the zipper open just enough to reach for it if she had to. She turned to him as she shouldered the bag, "Let's go." The trip back to the house was all but silent. He wondered what was wrong, he thought she'd have been pleased. But then he thought about it from what her point of view must be and wanted to run his head into a tree. Of course, she'd feel threatened, thinking some humans had done the work. He wanted to tell her that she didn't need to worry, and that she was safe here. He knew that he'd have to be very careful if anyone came here to visit her. A false move or one that could be misinterpreted could prove fatal. For them. He'd been shot before with buckshot, high-powered rifle bullets and razor-tipped hunting arrows by fools who had thought he was a bear, a moose, or a deer, depending on their level of buck fever or how badly they'd needed their optical prescriptions renewed. He'd been shot twice by idiots looking to collect on the old wolf bounty, way back when. In each case the damage had been irritating, annoying or just painful, but temporary nonetheless. He healed quickly and bore no scars but Danaya's. His retribution in every case had been permanent. Amazing the number of broken necks and drownings around this island during hunting season, he thought. They reached the house, and she hung the bag behind the door. She realized that she liked having the shotgun along, but not for her safety. It didn't make her feel half as safe as he did when he was beside her. No, she liked having the thing along because she feared for him. All it would take is one fool. "You wait right here, ok?" Helen leaned down just a little, and kissed him on the top of his snout. She turned to go inside. You could have knocked him over with a feather. She came back out with the biggest stainless steel bowl that she'd found earlier and placed it in front of him. The aroma was pretty heady to his mind. Inside there were two large soup bones, still warm from being boiled and there was a lot of meat on them. "Enjoy them, my friend. I'll be back in a minute." He'd just gotten started on the first when she was back to sit on the step with her own dinner. She was happy to have him there for the company, and suddenly wondered if she would feel this secure if there was no Buddy for her on this island. She already knew that answer, and sat in wonder watching him gnaw and try to work out the marrow. Yesterday she'd asked herself if she wanted the island with him on it. Today she was feeling more like she wanted this island because he was on it. He looked a bit nervous as she set her plate down for a minute to come to him. "Keep eating," she said, "I'm not going to take that away from you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him before walking back to continue her dinner. Just an Old Legend Ch. 05 They sat on the porch together. Helen had brought her plate to the sink and returned to watch her huge friend work one of the bones over. He'd noticed her looking at him after a time, and had picked up the bone, carried it over in his mouth, and began on it anew right next to her, looking at her the whole time. The vibrations created by his teeth dragging over the bone were amplified by the wooden structure, and she also felt it through her bottom. There was some kind of power in those jaws, she thought as she sat cross-legged smiling at him, and after a minute, had swiveled one leg out to touch him. She looked at the sky. The weather was changing quickly, and they both sensed it. There was a chill in the air now as the temperature dropped, and heavy clouds scudded in, leaving the clearing darkened. He stopped to look around and sniff. "The environmental site I was looking at earlier was calling for some heavy weather, there's severe storm warnings up for all around here," she stated. He listened to her, but didn't understand what she'd said about looking at something. He knew that there was bad weather on the way. He had his own indicators for that, and he could smell rain in the distance, cold rain, too. Something not normal for this area at this time of year, he knew. This wasn't the usual cycle of weather - there had been no steady build up of humidity that would be broken by the towering cumulonimbus clouds that might throw lightning and maybe even hail on occasion. This was something larger - a big shift in the air mass. Soon it would not be a good time to be a sailor out in deep water. Helen looked at him, "What are you going to do, Buddy? Do you have someplace to go?" She didn't know how to handle this. She did trust him, but could he even handle being inside, as wild as he is, she wondered. She had a sudden mental image of him lifting his leg at the couch and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. But the thought of him outside in a bad storm didn't appeal to her either. She looked away wondering what to do. That brought her gaze to the pot that she'd left out overnight with water for him. Her eyes widened and she got up to get closer. The pot was there still half full of water, but there had been a few donations. He followed her with his eyes, and wanted to run his head into a tree again. If she'd reacted badly to the work that he'd done clearing the beach, he just knew that this wasn't going to help at all. Helen was staring at wildflowers laid there in the pot, their stems in the remaining water. What the hell now, she thought? Somebody clears the beach, jams the inlet, and leaves me flowers? She felt an uncertain fear creep into the pit of her stomach. Did she have a stalker? Way the hell out here? She stood transfixed, and didn't notice the quiet clicks of his claws. "Well this settles it for me, Buddy. You're staying right here tonight. That is, if you don't mind." She turned to smile at him, but he wasn't there. One soup bone was still waiting for him in the large steel bowl, the other lay there picked clean. She spun around and just caught sight of his tail and one hind leg as he vanished into the forest. "BUDDY!" she called after him, and then added quietly, "please don't go now..." He was running hard, cursing his foolishness. What had he been thinking? How was she supposed to react to this strangeness? To her mind, there could be no "Aw, you brought me flowers," There could only be the feeling of some unknown possible threat. He pushed himself harder, bounding out of the woods and tearing a black streak across the meadow directly into the cold wind. He didn't care about that. He had one thought that she would certainly interpret as more covert and strange behavior, but he knew something that she couldn't, something that needed to be done, and her uncertain fears be damned. He'd figure out later how to hide what he was about to do, that could wait. But he had to act now. He tried to run faster still as the cold rain began just a little. He already knew that she kept the boat tied close to the dock, a little too close, and always on the channel side. If he didn't do something now, she'd likely find the boat and maybe the dock destroyed. He tore along the ridge as the rain began in earnest. He should be hunkered down someplace right now, he knew it. He looked through the bushes as he passed. There were no boats to be seen anywhere. He glanced down. The little boat was already pounding against the dock in the white-tipped waves. He swung away and started to shift, his smooth bounding gait becoming more ragged and violent. This middle form was not as well suited for covering ground quickly, but paws and claws wouldn't be of much use to him in a minute. He lunged at the edge, and as he cleared it, he stretched out as a man in a long arcing dive. As soon as he felt the water, he made for the surface, and swam in powerful strokes to the dock. Pulling himself up just enough, he glanced around furtively to see if he'd been noticed, but saw no one, and so he set about untying the lines. It was another full ten minutes of hard awkward struggle before the boat was on the sheltered side and the tethers left long to allow movement with the waves that might still find it. The best thing that he could have done, he knew, was to unmount the little motor and leave in on shore before pulling the boat onto the dock to turn it over. But there was a limit to everything, he thought, even what he was prepared to do for her right now. This couldn't be helped. Once he was done, another look around, and if there had been anyone to see him, they'd have seen a huge wolf step out onto the rocks to run up to the cover of the ridge in the silver wall of cold rain. He tried to find some cover in the meadow, but there was no getting away from the biting wind and the hissing cold rain as he made for the woods. He had several holes to hide in, but he should have gotten to them before getting soaked. Once in the cover of the forest, he became a man again, wet and cold. But doing this allowed him to shed much of the water, and turning back into his middle form again, he could move through the dripping forest easily. He checked one hole after another, the only one that was dry was now occupied by a bear, and even he wouldn't try to dislodge a bear from a den, not like this. The best that he'd be able to do was kill it inside the hole, and then he'd have a bloody and reeking hole - if he could even fish the carcass out of it. Helen was inside the house as the storm hit. Even partially sheltered by some trees, she heard the pounding of the rain on the roof. She lit the woodstove and soon had some warmth from it to help keep the air inside dry, but she kept wandering to the front windows. She was afraid now for herself if there was someone watching her, but that was secondary to how she worried for her large friend out there someplace. Helen wished that she hadn't seen the flowers yet. She wondered if she really could have convinced him to come inside before the weather turned this sour. She loved a good storm - always had - once she was assured that there was shelter for her if she wanted it. But now, well there was just no enjoying this, not with the huge wolf that she now cared deeply for out there. She was probably worrying needlessly, and she hoped that was what it was. The thought of him out in this with no shelter, no place to go ... A completely insane thought came to her as she pictured him in her mind. He was so bright, so intelligent. She had no doubt that if he'd been born with thumbs and could understand her, they'd have a lot of fun with it, but he could probably be kept happy and fascinated once she'd shown him how to work a mouse and use a computer very basically. She thought of children's programs, just basic shape stuff. It was a nutty thought that amused her as she pictured it, but she was at least a little bit certain that he was bright enough for it. It was probably just as well that he was the way he was. She laughed a little, imagining herself coming home to the island one day to find him bidding for a cat on eBay. The thought amused the hell out of her. She saw him there on the beach or in the open meadow in her mind again. He was one fantastic example of whatever species of wolf that he was. She remembered what she'd inadvertently said to him about girlfriends and it made her sad for him again. He didn't indicate it, but she knew that he was proud of his place in the food chain here and he had a right to be. She thought about his shoulders and the way that he was built. He was big enough and powerful enough to take on at least one freaking bear without a thought to protect her blundering ass. It was her amazing luck to have met the Terminator of wolves. It was obvious that he sure liked her, she was still thankful for that. And damn, he was so gorgeous to look at. She chuckled a little, remembering where his nose had been headed there on the beach. That wasn't ever going to happen and she resolved to pay more attention the next time in case it was about to, but ... She admitted to herself that if she were a wolf, anywhere even close enough to his size to allow what she suddenly visualized him doing with a female of his kind, well then she figured that they could both be a lot happier for it. That wasn't possible either, though she did admit that it was a pleasant thought. She wondered just how big a female dog would have to be to be serviced by him. If she knew it would work, she had a thought to get him a St. Bernard or something if she bought the island. Helen thought highly enough of him to want that for him - anything so that he could get laid once in a while. She chuckled; he'd probably need a pony. That wouldn't work either, she realized. He'd probably just eat the thing. Well, really eat it. She shook her head with a smirk. She needed to read better romance books. She turned from the window and went to get an oil lamp. The place was fed electrically by an underwater cable, but before that it was an overhead cable from somewhere. She wasn't sure how reliable the power was in this area during things like this, but she'd spent enough summers in the woods to know that these power lines were long - and it only took one tree blowing down. Her thoughts were confirmed a few minutes later just as she saw the first flicker. She turned on her flashlight just in case, but the crackling boom told her it had been lightning. She shrugged and lit the lamp anyway. As soon as she 'd turned off the flashlight, the power failed. Slowly at first, the lightning began, but as the last of the daylight finally failed, the storm's intensity picked up markedly. Lightning flickered almost constantly, sometimes managing to find a good solid target someplace while it held on and snarled for a long second or two. The thunder from those near strikes shook the building. Helen found them a bit disconcerting, but remained more concerned for him. With nothing else to do, she went to the door and retrieved the nylon bag. Out on the porch, he was cold and miserable, but he watched her with interest, wondering what she'd do with the cannon. He watched as she broke it open and extracted the shells, before setting it down again. She got up and looked under the sink with the flashlight. Finding the panel, she removed it, and set the gun inside before going back to the table. He looked at her and was curious now. With a start, he knew that she was reading. He saw their old letters, but she was only looking at them. The papers that she read were new. He shivered, but was resigned to it. At least he wouldn't drown out here under the overhang. Helen laid the letters out in as close to chronological order as she could, preparing to read part of the tragedy. She had a vague feeling of some small guilt, but that left quickly. The parties in these letters were dead, she told herself, and she found that she was reading them for not so much a prurient interest, but was more hopeful in a way to read a little part of someone's real love story. She just took a quick scan of one of the translations and noted how much this Danaya loved her man. Looking quickly at the other translations she read her happy acknowledgment in receiving his letters to her, so she knew that this love was expressed both ways between them. She thought that they must have ached for each other's touch and wondered how long they'd been apart. Her thoughts were interrupted by a low vibration that she could just feel through the floor. As soon as she began to pay attention to it, it was gone, but when she was about to reach for the first translation to read it fully through, the shake began again. She looked around, and her eyes went to the window. She didn't even need the flashlight. She could see his eyes. He shuddered again, and Helen was up and running for the door. "Buddy! Come here!" He looked at her and the tail waged slowly. His eyes looked uncertain again. "If you think I'm going to leave you out there tonight, Mister, you're wrong. You come here, you look like... well you look like something, I just can't find a good word." His tail swung wider and he shook himself off. A silver arc of water flailed from him and she heard some of it hit the window and wall. He took a careful step toward her. "Oh come on," she said, "this isn't a time for you to look like the mysterious loner. I've got the stove going and you can dry off and be warm, so come on." He walked to her and she went inside. Turning around, she saw him hesitate. "Now you're being foolish, and maybe even stupid here. Come on in." He walked in and stood dripping on the floor while she grabbed every towel that she could find. The first was her beach towel, and she threw it over his shoulders while she hunted for more. She hoped that big towel would keep him from shaking off water again inside. Dropping the pile onto the couch, she began to rub him down with the beach towel, marveling at how much of him there was. He groaned deeply in a very quiet way as she rubbed. "See?" She laughed, "You won't get this kind of service out there." He wasn't inclined to argue, he just squeezed his eyes closed in pleasure. Helen came at last to the one area on him that she felt hesitant to dry for him. She'd had a male dog as a girl and had done this then. She wouldn't have given it a thought if he was her dog, but he wasn't hers and he sure wasn't a dog. Well, what if it were her who couldn't do this for herself? Under those circumstances she'd overlook the awkwardness of a friend doing this for her, so she went ahead and began to cautiously dry his equipment. She didn't know for certain, but she imagined that a male wouldn't like running around with those things cold and wet very much. Helen was careful with his testicles and she tried to be gentle with everything. She brushed the strangeness of it aside with her usual constant chatter, but his now-wide eyes as he looked back at her made her laugh at both her and him. She smiled at him. "Sorry Buddy, but I thought you needed this dried too. I'm not trying to get fresh with you, ok?" He looked unconvinced somehow. "I'm serious," she joked to him, "Ok, I'll admit that it's been a while since I've had one of these in my hand, but I am NOT trying to cop a feel here, believe me." The animal's expression remained the same. If anything, Helen thought that he looked just a bit skeptical now as well. She rolled her eyes, "Look, I'm hurrying here. I don't think either one of us wants me to rub this very much with this towel though I'd probably be impressed. I'm doing the best I can and I'm almost done. Just hold still." She stopped and grinned at him, "Actually, you probably wouldn't mind that, would you?" She realized that she was still holding onto it and decided that it was dry enough right then – even if it wasn't completely dry, it was good enough. She looked at his face again and his tongue flopped out. Helen laughed until there were tears in her eyes. The wolf turned and licked her face. "No no, it won't do you any good to beg. That's not the kind of service that I meant," she chuckled, "this isn't one of those places." She grabbed another towel and began to work on his legs. She reached for his foreleg and he took it as a game. It ended with her on the floor in a fetal position and him circling her, looking for an opening in her defenses to poke through with his nose. She hadn't laughed this much in so long. She ignored him after a while and got back to drying him. Soon, almost every towel was wet, but he was a lot drier. Oddly enough, she was now probably wetter than he was, after rolling around defenseless in the small puddles where he'd stood. She stood up, "That was fun, Buddy. I forgot how I like that game. I haven't played that since I had a dog when I was a kid." She walked to the kitchen with a sigh, "I need to get out more." The thought came to her that she could probably stand to get laid really well herself. She just nodded to herself, "Yup." A few minutes later, she came back with the stew pot, and a plate. She poured a little onto one plate, and then set the pot down in front of him. He stared at it, and then looked at her. "Go on," she said, "that's all for you." She began to eat, "It's probably not what you're used to, but it's still warm, a little, and it'll be good for you, I hope. I can't see anything that might be bad for you in there." It smelled wonderful to him. He also knew that she had likely been saving it for herself the next day. The thought hadn't escaped him. But he was surprised anyway at her generosity. He paused to sniff it. The thought came to him that this would be the first cooked meal that he'd eaten in... it wasn't worth thinking about, he decided. His tail swung widely and he panted at her with a grin. "Listen, pal, you'd better not even think about turning your nose up at that," she said it in a mocking tone, but it wasn't lost on him. He dug in. She stopped eating for a moment, and moved a little closer to him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She laid her arm over his shoulder, "Look at us, Buddy. Don't we make a fine pair?" He heard her, but had nothing. She sat eating on the floor with her big friend, happy now. She didn't care what fell out of the sky. When she was finished, she saw that the pot was absolutely clean, and doubted that he's left a molecule of stew behind. She looked at her plate. All that was left was what one would leave behind with an eating utensil, but it wasn't as clean as the pot. She moved the pot and put her plate down, "You're welcome to this too, if you don't mind that I ate it first." As the man that he once was, he'd likely have pushed the plate away. But if the woman that he loved had offered it to him in these circumstances, he'd have eaten it, he realized. He looked at her. What was the difference, he thought? He was close to there already. The plate was spotless within seconds. She sat stroking his damp head for a while, listening to the storm. He only sat and looked at her. Now and then, he'd try to get her to scratch his throat so that he could slowly lick her arm as gently as he could manage it. "I'm so glad that I met you. I hope that we can stay friends here somehow and that you can stay as wild as you need to be." She leaned over and kissed the side of his snout very briefly, "No peeing against anything, though. Try to let me know if you have to go so that I can open the door for you. I'll try to remember to do that anyway." Helen got up to return to her reading, telling him to make himself comfortable, and reminding him of the warm woodstove. It was easy to forget what he was, she decided. Those eyes always said a lot to her now. Just an Old Legend Ch. 05 He just watched her for a time, trying not to think about the letters. That had been so long ago, and he'd tortured himself over it for decades. But a thought came to him. He was aware that she likely couldn't read anything written in his mother tongue, but for some reason, he suddenly found a desire within him that she see that he was not a stupid beast, and that the man in that old love had not been uncaring on his side of it. He thought for a minute, and then got up to walk to a low bookshelf that he'd made long ago. His nose went to the space between it and the wall, and he pushed a little. Helen watched him, wondering if there were mice in the walls that he smelled now. He couldn't possibly still be hungry, could he? She got up and walked over. The shelf was mostly empty, and he pushed the corner of his jaw against the wall to lever the shelf away a little with his snout. He hoped that no one had looked there. The shelf shuddered a little, and he pulled back. Helen looked, and saw the corner of a piece of paper on the floor there. She reached in, and felt more paper. In a few seconds, she had a second pile of envelopes. She stood to examine the letters, and by the postmarks on the faded paper, she knew that she was looking at what the man had sent to Danaya. The man's wife must have brought them along when she'd come. She just didn't know why they'd been hidden there after Danaya had arrived here. She turned to look at him, wondering how he could have known several things, like what was behind the bookshelf, like knowing that she'd be interested, and why it would be important to her. Had his nose led him here? Or had he been inside this building before? For his part, her friend just walked to the floor in front of the wood stove, lay down and closed his eyes with a deep, long, and very comfortable groan. Helen sat reading by the light of the old oil lamp. She purposely read very slowly through each of the translation sheets, trying to feel the longing that this woman had felt. This Danaya kept calling him 'Ion'. Helen got that it was his name, but wondered if it was a short form or an endearment, or what, and thought about how it might have been pronounced. She read of her worries for him alone there in a strange and empty land, as he had described it to her, and yet there was her burning hope to hold him again as soon as it could be possible to travel to him. More than anything, Danaya had said, she wanted to feel his arms around her and be safe inside them. The single translated letter from him to her had stated his joy that between them, she now had enough money for the passage, and how he had trouble sleeping now that he knew she'd be coming soon. He'd said that even working himself into the ground didn't allow him to sleep now that he knew. There were soft and quiet written promises to her of kissing her everywhere. Helen found herself blushing a little at the tender things that they'd written. These must have been a joy to translate, she chuckled, imagining maybe an old spinster engaged by Beamish to do this. She supposed that this letter had been destined to be mailed, but that Danaya had arrived before he'd had a chance to mail it since there was no postmark. A trip to the post office in the town wasn't undertaken in his rowboat lightly. He must have set it aside for the next time that he was going for supplies, Helen surmised. By the dates, it had been three years that they had been apart. Danaya expressed her sorrow many times that she could likely not give him any children due to her health. She recognized that he had said that it didn't matter to him, but she had the sorrow anyway. Someone like him, she'd written, should have strong sons to help with the work and lovely daughters to be proud of. These were the fears of a woman, Helen recognized, even more real to her in that time and place. Her heart ached a little in sadness for how much they must have loved each other, and what had become of that love here on the island. Helen's attention kept being diverted by the small sounds that her large friend made as he slept now. His deep breathing was a comfort to her if indeed she now had a possible stalker around. There were the quiet sounds of his twitching, and she hoped to God that he didn't start chasing a rabbit in his dreams. One of his barks, even asleep, could likely wake the dead, she thought. She looked over at him fondly, happy to have him in her life. There was still the worry of him becoming tame, which she didn't want. She just needed his friendship. She watched him twitch for another moment, but then began to stare hard at him in the low light. He was doing more than twitching. He was changing, somehow. She didn't dare to move or even breathe as she watched spellbound. His shape changed slowly, becoming even larger for a moment. She couldn't see much of his face now because of the way that he was lying there, but she knew it must be different now too. The legs had gotten thicker, longer a little, the overall structure had changed, and it kept on. The fur that covered him began to shorten, and the feet that she saw were shortening a bit. His front paws became... hands, the long vicious-looking claws that she was sure that she'd seen there only a moment ago were now - fingernails. She stood slowly up on shaking legs, careful not to move the chair on the wooden floor. She couldn't help herself - she had to see his face. She crept closer, looking at the muscles there on his thighs. Her eye was drawn involuntarily to his genitals. He sure didn't look much like a wolf there, either. She moved her gaze to slide along his ribcage and she didn't see much there in the way of ribs. It looked to her as though even his muscles had muscles. The shoulder that she could see was probably as large in circumference as her head, she thought, and the bicep which now covered much of his face was probably wider than her waist - from left to right. She crept quietly to move to where she might get a look at his face. He had black hair - a little longish, perhaps, with a forelock that hung over his eyes a little. The eyelashes, what she could see of them, were normal for an attractive man, and they lived beneath eyebrows that looked kind in sleep like this. His face was in her view now, and even by the dimness of the oil lamp, she almost gasped. He was beautiful to her. For an instant, she saw him as he must have looked as a boy, and that he just had to have had a mischievous side, from the line there at the corner of his mouth. She was lost, thinking that he'd have looked adorable then, the kind of boy whose mother could never scold him for his pranks, not too harshly, anyway. She almost jumped straight up as he rolled onto his back, but once she'd calmed herself, she kept staring at the wonder of this man, and there was no mistaking what he was now. She wondered for the first time about the legend. There was something of it in front of her here that she was looking straight at, right here and now. If this shit is real, she asked herself, could this be Ion? And if it was Ion, Helen suddenly knew that what Danaya had written was true. A man like this should have children. But that was over seventy years ago, she knew. This couldn't be that man today, could it? That man was supposed to have murdered his wife, and left a crudely written confession in his naturally poor English that went on and on about a werewolf. From what she'd read in Danaya's letters and the one from him that had never been mailed, those two had difficulty breathing without each other. The godlike form in front of her certainly didn't look like much of a murderer to her, not with a caring face like that. With a soft smirk to herself, she admitted that to get to a man like this, she'd happily crawl through a few miles of broken glass, if it meant that he'd notice her with any interest. She'd never thought much of the narcissistic body builders that she'd seen pictures of. They'd never held her interest. She preferred real men. It astounded her to see that the man asleep in front of her now looked more real that any man that she'd ever seen before in her life, though he just couldn't be, could he? Everything there on him had a purpose, and had been built up during hard usage to do something other than meaningless repetitions moving weights in a gym. She looked around for a moment at the building and thought about the farm. He'd done almost all of this alone. He hadn't done work to build this body, the body was built to do work. She knew the difference, and the results were there in front of her. If he was who she now thought that he might be, then this place had been his gym. All of his bodybuilding had been done before he came here - this was only the end that needed building for him and his woman. To have a man who could do this and be intelligent enough to work out the engineering so that he could do the things that needed more than one man to do,... well, it blew her mind as she remembered wondering at all of the blocks and pulleys that she'd seen in the barn. Now she knew what they'd been for. As much as she'd tried over the past couple of days to include him in her chatter, he really had been a man all along? How was this possible? She looked at the well-developed musculature in wonder, from his throat to his pectorals, down to his abdomen, the muscles there now pulled down by the rise of his ribcage. Her eyes darted lower and she remembered that she'd held that part of him in her hand and joked about it. If he'd looked like this then, she probably wouldn't have let go of it yet. She looked at one scar there on his chest. It was ragged, the only imperfection that she could see on him, but it had healed that way, she guessed. She walked slowly away to collect her thoughts, looking back over her shoulder. That's how she stubbed her toe hard against the couch. There was a word. One word that she would have used here in response to the nerve endings which screamed their messages of pain to her brain. It was a word in the common vernacular, though she used it very seldom herself, and mostly at times like this when she'd want to yell it out loud. She clamped her mouth shut, and bit down on the first letter as she stooped to hold onto her damaged toes. "Ffff...ffffff........" Once she had swallowed the pain, she quickly looked back to be sure that she hadn't disturbed him. Her own sound had been very quiet, but the bang against the couch.... Her eyes widened. He was sitting up, and his thoughtful amber eyes were looking right at her. Her vision narrowed down instantly to those eyes, and she felt as though he were boring right through her own eyes, directly into her soul. She was lost, so completely lost, and had one conscious thought that she had heard the tale and the warnings about looking into his eyes. As usual, she thought as her control drifted, she'd done exactly the wrong thing, and now it was far too late for her. If he'd spoken anything understandable to her now, she'd do exactly what he asked, but all he said was, "Please..." He'd been pulled out of a deepening sleep by her noise. He'd sat up, disoriented and groggy. He stared at her in shock, and for the first time in he didn't know how long, he'd been caught. His muddled mind was scrambling, trying to assemble something coherent for him to act on. He thought that she'd be less afraid of the wolf, and began to shift there as he got to his feet. The result of his groggy thinking showed in her eyes as sheer horror. To get to the wolf, he had to pass through the middle form, and now towered as he stood, his long ears growing to stand straight up, adding to his formidable size. Recognizing his mistake, he wanted to reassure her that he had no thought of harm to her, but he was already beginning to approach the wolf, and suddenly knew that the wolf couldn't speak, and began a hasty shift back - through the middle form again. He tried even now to talk to her, "P-Please... wait." It was too much. Whatever spell she might have been under might have held her if he hadn't moved his eyes, but he'd looked down at himself once, and now Helen stood with her pretty mouth agape, quaking from her legs, her arms trembling far outside her conscious control. The rest of her wasn't receiving the appropriate directions from her locked-up brain. The organism that was Helen took over its own management - fight or flight. That's all it had. Fight was right out, so it prepared for flight, and it wasn't about to carry a full bladder around. He stared at the dark spot growing there in her jeans, and wanted desperately to try to calm her, but knowing that if it had gotten to this point, there was no hope of it at all. What was left of her control struggled to turn and even to grasp the doorknob. That took her three tries - two before she could even close her fingers on it. She pulled the door open, and heard his anguished voice, "Please, .... Do not..." He was stuck. Frantically, he searched his mind for the English word 'leave'. All he could summon up was the word in Romanian. She began to turn back at the pain in that voice, and saw this large fur-covered animal take one step toward her. He was actually trying to beseech her, but she didn't see it that way. The information passed to her brain by her wide eyes only caused more terror, and in a last-ditch effort, the system went into automatic launch mode. She took the first strong step of the run for her life and then turned as she went. The edge of the open door caught her solidly just to the left of her nose with a bang. Helen saw a bright flash as she recoiled backward, and he was already shifting as he moved quickly to catch her before she hit her head on the floor. Helen's vision was a mess of glowing painful sparks on the left side. The right side saw those concerned amber eyes upside down as he held her up while her body twitched itself toward limpness. She had a slightly nauseating sense that she was sinking. Her last thought was that she had been right. He did have a caring face. And then, as the old romances say, she knew no more. Just an Old Legend Ch. 06 I'm trying to move this one ahead, so it'll likely be quite long. I'm trying to mix this up a little. There's some of the dreaded (for me) background needing to get said in here somewhere, so for fun and frolic - or something like that - I'm throwing in a curve. Oh, and the wolf guy gets a name in this, just sayin'. Hope you like it. ---------------- He looked down at the woman that he now cared so much about as she twitched feebly and he lowered her carefully to the floor. His mind was still working on the word to finish his sentence. "Do not leave." He said it at last, but now had other words to search for which might have worked better in the event, such as - 'run away' - 'hurt yourself'- or perhaps the best possible phrase - 'run into the door behind you'. He looked down at her face, and she wore a confused look that turned into a weak smile for some reason before her lights obviously went out. He sighed. It might have gone better if he'd known her name. He admired and loved a woman from across an abyss who had no name to him. He shrugged. She'd never told him. He hoped fervently that she wasn't badly hurt here. He'd caused enough damage. He stood up and looked out the door into the still-teeming rain. He was about to walk away when he suddenly had a desire to look at her one more time. That look led to more gazing and then he thought of how he just couldn't leave her like this. For God's sake she was lying in a puddle. He found the pile of dry towels and stepped to the sink with one. Turning on the water, he rinsed it well, glad now that there was still some hot water and pressure in the tank below and then walked back to her. He considered a moment, and then mentally threw up his hands. He would either do this or not, he told himself. He knew what he would have done if it were Danaya - before he'd left to come here, and so he decided that it would be appropriate for his now ex-friend here as well. It didn't matter anyway, he told himself. There was no way now that he'd ever let her find him again - even on this little island. He gently undid the button at the front of her jeans and the zipper. Taking hold of the wet material, he gently but firmly tugged them off, moving her to a dry part of the floor in the process, and carefully used the warm wet towel to wipe her body. Then he took the last dry towel, threw it over his shoulder, and very gently picked her up, being careful to cradle her head. He cursed himself the entire time. He should have known his place and remained outside, regardless of her words. What could she have done? He was much too heavy for her to move. He turned to carry her to the couch, looking hard in the dim light and realized that her soft voice was much more than his weight or his will could have withstood. There are certain automatic functions to the human body - even to one such as his. And there are certain automatic functions to the male body, specifically. He felt one of them begin and willed it not to, but before he'd reached the couch, his unwanted erection brushed against her and he groaned with more frustration. Wonderful, he thought, and now this too. He laid her carefully down and placed the clean beach towel where it would do some good. Then he thought about her eye, and stepped to the kitchen. He'd only been inside the place a very few times in all the years since, and it had been upgraded a lot since he'd built it. He wondered what to do, and then thought of the refrigerator. Tearing open the freezer, he found a bag of frozen vegetables. He found it as stiff as a board, but a few light raps against his hand and it went limp, the attachment between the individual frozen pieces broken for the moment. He walked back to her. Kneeling at her side, he looked down and felt truly saddened now. He'd really enjoyed being near to her the last little while. Now he wouldn't even be able to stay close enough to her to protect her from anything. He leaned down and kissed her softly, noticing the single tear that he left there on her cheek, but not daring to wipe it away. He studied her a minute, preparing, and then gently placed the bag on the side of her face that she'd hit. It wouldn't stay put, so he grabbed a cushion to block it so that it stayed. He was worried that the cold might be enough to wake her, but was relieved when it didn't. He turned to go, and then worried that if it hadn't woken her, then maybe she was more badly injured than he'd thought. Shaking his head, he stood at the door for a while just watching her. At the first sighing movement that she made eight minutes later, he was out into the rain and gone. Helen woke in confused pain. Her head was searing agony. Half of her face was numb, too, She reached for this first and her hand recoiled from the cold plastic. She pulled it away from her face and wondered about the echo that still rang in her mind. It was the front door clicking shut, she thought suddenly. She went to sit up and saw stars for a second, and then remembered what had happened. She sat up as slowly as she could and noticed that her pants were gone. She wanted to shake her head, but just knew somehow that it would be a bad idea. She recognized the terrycloth of a beach towel by touch and wondered how that had gotten here. Suddenly everything became clear to her and she tensed. Where was he now? She'd hit the door. Why was she here, then? She looked around, and began to have some frightening thoughts, but got it together, grabbed the cold plastic bag and stood up cautiously. She wasn't quite steady, and held the armrest tightly. She looked in wonder at what she held in her hand. Frozen vegetables. She found her dinner dish out on the table. She remembered putting it in the sink. Looking there, she found her clothes, wet along with a sopping towel. She smelled the urine and remembered. She walked to the window. He was there. Way out at the edge of the woods. She just saw him through the rain in the dim flicker of far-off lightning. He was standing still in the rain. Her first thought was to grab the gun and load it up with the red-painted shells, but as she was about to turn to do this, her eyes fell on the pot out on the porch with its poor wildflowers, a sad but hopeful offering. There was no stalker, she realized suddenly. There was only him. He'd picked her flowers, just as it had been him who had moved the dead-falls on the beach and blocked the inlet - as she'd said she'd like. She remembered how intently he'd listened to her. Well, now she knew that he was a man as well. And he was also something else. She wondered if he was more than a man, or something less when he was like this. She herself, or anyone else for that matter, might have needed a tractor with a winch to rip out the tree trunks, but he certainly wouldn't. Someone like him, who could separate a bear from its life in five seconds flat by dis-assembly, could have done that work if he'd had half an hour, and Buddy'd had all day, mostly. So what had happened here? She'd been frightened well out of her wits this time, and it hadn't been her fanciful imagination, but what it had been was her own visceral fear, and she'd had good reason, perhaps. But then as she thought about it, he hadn't done anything to her. She had just reacted. She'd realized the edge of the door was there but it had been too late to stop herself. She'd fallen, and he was looking down at her. And then she'd woken on the couch. He must have carried her there. She looked around. She would have to mop soon, but for now, he'd even wiped the floor. What kind of wild beast wipes the floor? She looked at the bag of frozen vegetables, the no-name, least expensive variety that they sold, and then she touched her face. There were a lot of people who would never have thought to... But something less than a human did? It wasn't possible. She looked again, and suddenly knew exactly why he still stood there. She saw one of the plastic bags that she'd brought her purchases home in, and grabbed it, moving as quickly as her head allowed her to move. Grabbing the bag, she stepped quickly to the table. The wooden box was still there with his old letters to Danaya on top where she'd put them down. She hoped that he hadn't been more observant than she had been for a lot of this. Setting the envelopes aside, she looked. There had once been twenty shells that he'd loaded. Ten had been loaded with silver slugs. Three of those had been used, leaving seven. She'd bet money that a poor farmer working alone, and maybe hiring himself out to work for others would have used every nickel he had to do what he'd done, and wouldn't have a gram of silver left to his name now. She ripped the seven shells out of the box and stuffed them into the bag, spinning around to look for a place, someplace where a wolf's nose wouldn't find them. She settled quickly on the spices in the cupboard - right behind the pepper. As an afterthought, she flipped the lid of that jar open, and sprinkled a little on the tightly wrapped bag before putting it back. Hobbling to the door, she opened it. She was half-naked here. She looked at her windbreaker, but as her hand touched it, she heard the swish of the fabric. Not good. Her last laundry load sat neatly stacked, waiting for her next trip upstairs. She had another bulky sweater... It was freezing cold in the hissing rain, but if he was still there by now, then she dared not call to him. She knew enough about him to know that if she did that, she'd likely never see him again. She walked out and hobbled down the steps with her injured toes. As she struggled over the cold mud and grass, she questioned her sanity, wondering if she should have brought the gun. That was just stupid, she knew and she knew all the reasons for that, not least among them that it would have been the sane thing to do. Well, she'd never let a little thing like sanity get in her way before, so ... Walking the hundred yards was taking forever the way that she hobbled, careful to be as silent as she could, but she worked out some plusses as she went. The sweater was already soaked, and the rain would likely kill the smell of it. Thank God it wasn't wool, she thought, and as long as it rained, she might have a shot at getting close. She began to be able to make out his shape as she walked carefully. Jesus, she thought, what was she doing here, trying to sneak up on something that used stealth as easily as he drew breath. She doubted that this would work, but he didn't seem to be aware of her yet. Then Helen thought with a start that maybe he was actually facing her, she couldn't tell from this distance. She decided to bank on his facing away from her. But the closer that she got to him, the larger he seemed to loom. She saw with some relief that his back was turned. He stood in the rain for the second time, but he didn't mind it or care anymore. He was struggling. He'd gotten this far and should by rights have been long gone by now. But he'd forgotten something. He knew what it was, and was now caught in his own thoughts. Back there, in the house that he'd built long ago for himself and his Danaya, on the farm that he'd begun here, was the solution to his pain. It was the old shotgun that he'd cut down for ease of use in tight quarters as he hunted what the love of his life had become. Loaded with the silver slugs that he'd made and the shells that he'd hand-loaded as he wept for his beautiful wife, the old cannon could end this forever. It had taken all the money that he had left to buy what he needed. He couldn't have known then, though he understood now that there was little madness once you got past the first part. But in his mind back then, he just couldn't stand by and watch his wife hunt as a wolf. The people in the town would never have known what hit them. Not that many had been kind to him, being a foreigner, though there had been a few who had treated him as a friend. He had put off what he knew he had to do until late in the autumn. He didn't dare wait until the channel froze over, there would have been no stopping her hunger then... He shook off the memory and decided. There was no point to any more of this. He'd learned to live with this curse, though in all of the time that he'd had to think about it, he'd never thought of a reason why he'd deserved to live this unending horror. He'd gone on alone and managed to survive, but he had no idea why, if there had to be a reason for it. Just when he'd been almost at peace with what he was, this lovely woman came. He loved her from a distance, and that was all that it could ever come to, but now, after over seventy long years, he no longer wanted any of it. The price had become much too high for him. He wondered if she were conscious yet. He ought to go back and retrieve the thing whether she was or not. What could she do to stop him? Why would she try, now that she knew? He'd be doing her a last favor, and she could have the island. He hoped that she'd be happier here than he ever was. All it had been to him was a prison that he'd adapted to. He looked down and began to weep. Helen found him there. She'd actually been a few feet off to the side, but another flare of lightning had illuminated him, and she'd adjusted her path to stand behind him in the driving rain. She was cold. So very cold, but she didn't shiver. Her head hurt, and her cold bare feet ached. At least the cold had numbed her poor toes, she thought as she looked at him, close enough now to feel the heat from his body a little bit, and she could even see him in the darkness here. He was massive, she thought. No wonder that bear hadn't stood a snowball's chance in hell against him. And he'd been her friend. Yeah, she thought, she was still almost scared to death of him like this, but she knew him as a huge wolf, and he hadn't harmed her. She'd seen him as a man now, whose mind obviously lived inside the wolf when he was in that shape, so why not while he looks like this? She remembered that he'd even tried to plead with her in this shape. She wasn't that afraid of him now, she realized, especially now that she was listening to him cry. She knew that even in the rain, she had only seconds before he became aware of her, so she began to slowly reach toward him. She watched her hand and arm as it went. There were tremors - she couldn't hold her arm steady at all. The rest of her wasn't shivering, she thought, so this can't be the cold, it had to be fear. She stopped still right there, feeling stupid with her arm out while she thought. Her hand moved further. This wasn't so much fear of him, she now knew. It was fear of what he might do. Her middle and third fingers touched his clawed hand. He inhaled sharply and spun with a roar and time instantly slowed as she jumped back. A bolt of lightning tore across the heavens from one cloud to another at that instant, and in the flare of light, they saw each other. But his massive arm was already in motion, driven hard by the same muscles that she'd admired a little while ago. Helen saw it coming and was certain that this would end things for her, but then she thought sadly that she'd removed his way of ending it for himself. The pieces were in play now, she thought, so be it. She watched his claws come, and pulled her head back. In the sticky slowness of it, she heard one of her vertebrae click in her neck. Out there, past the sharp focus of her view close in, she could see his yellow eyes in softer focus as his brows rose slowly and the eyes opened wide. The wind from his swing moved her hair in the rush of the wet vacuum left behind it, and the rainwater that saturated the fur on his arm was thrown off to hit her face as hard as any bucketful of water could have been, and it stung her skin. His powerful right arm was raised now and moving for the follow-up in this defensive move. Hunting bears the hard way as he did left no room for not connecting. She knew that he wouldn't miss twice. She doubted that he ever did. But he was pulling back now, as hard as he could. What came from his throat was a tortured groan, and Helen's eyes widened even further. She was determined suddenly to see the end as it came. It took everything he had, and his shoulder muscles strained against the inertia that normally was what dealt the damage that he depended on. Helen's vision was jarred from the impact and she felt his claws come to rest against the back of her head and neck, one pressing her ear uncomfortably. It caused even her to see even more bright sparks in her left eye. But she noticed that she was still standing. Her own left hand was moving now, and she slapped it on top of his as everything crashed to a halt. The wind fell off as did the rain for a moment. Helen heard her own heartbeat in her ears, as well as everything around them dripping. She couldn't hear her own breath, but there was his between them to replace it as he exhaled fog like a steam locomotive letting off its brakes. She admired his yellow eyes as the tremors finally started in her legs. He began to slowly pull his hand back, but she grabbed as much of his fur as she could and held tight. He relaxed, and the horror of what he had almost done came to him. It was worse now than the terrible split-second when he'd realized what he'd been about to do. There was no apology that he could think of for this. They stared at each other's eyes for a long few seconds. Helen squeezed her eyes shut against the dull throb in her head. When it had passed she opened them and blinked, and just said, "Please ....." He was struggling in so many ways now, but she sensed it, and only allowed him enough movement to take some of the pressure off her skin. She felt the thin, warm rivulet of blood from the edge of her ear run to her throat. She knew that he'd see it in a second or so and recoil in remorse, so she turned her head and kissed the inside of his wrist before turning to him with a small smile. That he had tried to stop and that she was still alive settled all of her questions now. "Please don't kill me now," she said quietly, "I couldn't bear it if this got any worse now." He was transfixed, as he thought of what she'd done here. The courage that this had taken... He looked down, still in absolute surprise, "Why I should kill you? I never would hurt you if I knew you were there. Why do you do this? It is cold here for you." He looked up above her head at the farmhouse, "I have to go back. I need my gun." Helen let go of his hand and leaned against him as desperately hard as she could, throwing her arms around as much of him as she could hold, and knowing it was nothing to him, "No," he felt her shake her head, "That won't help you. I want to help you." He was confused now, "I need my gun. There are red shells. I have to..." "NO!" she screamed it at him and it made her head hurt again. She even saw flashes of light in her left eye. He stopped and stared at her. The wind began again, and it brought more rain. "How can you help me? No one can help me. The red shells..." "They're at the bottom of the channel," she lied, "I threw them overboard this afternoon as I came from town. I want to help you." He didn't know what to feel now. Rage came to mind, now that he'd decided it, but that was quickly replaced with sadness. He'd never have his way out now. She squinted up through the rain lashing her eyes, "How do you say your name?" He looked at her, "Ion," he said.. It came out like 'yon'." "Ion," She tried it, and then said, "It's John here, isn't it?" He nodded slowly, "Yes. What is your name, please, and why do you want to help me?" She smiled through the rain, "My name is Helen, and I have a friend. I didn't know his name because he didn't ever say it. I just called him 'Buddy'. He's my friend, and I know that you're Buddy. You're my friend. I won't let my friends cry in the rain, Ion." Just an Old Legend Ch. 06 "Buddy is wolf, Elena." She smiled for a second at how he'd said her name, but shook her head and thumped her fist against his chest, raising her voice in the wind, "No! Buddy is in here, Buddy is a wolf, Buddy is a man named Ion. Buddy is you! It was you who cleaned up the beach for me. You brought me flowers!" Her voice softened as she spread her fingers into his fur, " I'm sorry I was frightened, I'm not any more, not really." She reached up and held his face, "Listen to me. We can get along, just like my friend the wolf and I. There's the house that you made. You don't have to live out here. I can't change what happened, and neither can you. But I want to know you and God DAMN it, I want to talk with you!" She wound down, "And I don't want to learn about you out here in this freezing shit." He looked down sadly, "You do not know what I am, Elena. I am beast, an animal, ..." he sighed, "I am murderer." She stood on her toes and pulled on the fur of his cheeks until he lowered his great head, and she kissed his face, "Look at me. Don't look at the house, look at me. Listen to me. I, ... I want to know you. I want to know about you, Ion. I want to hear your side, but only if you want to tell me. In any prison system around here, you get at most twenty-five years in prison for murder. They'd never have understood why you did it, but I'm pretty sure that I do. Twenty-five years. They call that 'life in prison.' You've been in this prison for a lot longer than that with no one. At least prisoners get food and clothes." She knew what was rising up in her, she'd found an underdog. Not just any underdog, but one whom she couldn't abandon to his dark thoughts and pain. She understood loyalty perfectly as a concept, and she thought that she had more of that than any six people. He heard her voice, soft again now, even through the wind that tried to whip her words away. She was quietly determined. It was a rare quality even in his time. If there was one person who could override his own will, he thought that she could very well be that one. The thought came to him that for all that he was, all that he had reluctantly become, he just might have met his match here in this person. She was still talking to him, beseeching him to see it her way. He resigned himself to hear what she had to say as she continued, "... I'm a very stubborn person, and I don't care what you say. I can argue even you into the ground. Goddammit, look at me, Ion!" He was helpless in this. His arms rose slowly to her back, and he pulled her gently, needing to hold her now. "I already know a lot about you. I don't know how this works, or anything like that, but now I absolutely know that you have control over how you look - when you're not asleep, anyway. And I know that you have control over what you do, and that you don't want to hurt me. I'm still your friend. That's good enough for me, Ion, it's all I need. Please, let's go." He stared at her, and she nodded, "Please, Ion, let's go back inside where it's warm. My feet are frozen, all of me is cold." He looked down at her and smiled softly, before reaching to pick her up gently. "Try to find place where rain will not drown you, and keep your face there." She smiled and hid her face against his neck as he walked back to the house. This close to him, he was warm. She wondered about the classic wet dog smell. He didn't have it, and she thought he smelled wonderful. As he carried her up the steps to set her down, he paused. "I have to turn into man, but I have no clothes." She took his hand, and said, "We didn't need them at the beach or in here before. I sure don't care now, as long as we can get warm and we can talk. None of this matters. No one knows who you are or who you were. We have time to work everything out. For right now, just see if you can get the woodstove going really well." She walked to the pot and took out the wildflowers with a soft smile that he would never forget. He nodded shyly. The last of the water ran off his skin as he changed and they walked into the house. Ion walked to the woodstove and opened the door to add wood. Helen looked at him. She herself wasn't quite as sure as she'd tried to sound to him and thought about that a little. There would be challenges to this, she realized. But as she stood looking, she came to herself again, and thought about how much they seemed to be attracted to each other. Friendship might just be the start of something. And God knows she needed something to restart her life. It might just be the restarting of his life that does it. And, she thought mischievously as she stared at his backside, holy cow, there just had to be a way to keep clothes off him at least part of the time! Helen broke her reverie and walked up the stairs to the bedroom with the flashlight. She found a clean towel, a good thing, because every other towel in the place now needed washing. She toweled her hair as dry as she could get it with only one towel and she turned to the mirror and noticed that there was a bit of blood now on her sweater which had run from the slight wound on the rim of her ear. The flashlight made it difficult, but she could see that the wound had begun to form a wet-looking scab. She stepped back and very carefully pulled the sweater off. She was about to head for the bathroom to soak the sweater when she looked at herself there in the mirror. She smiled a bit to herself. Nothing to write home about here, she thought, but she'd taken care of herself, and she knew that she'd once had enough in the way of charms... She smirked and began to shake her head at the thought. The dull pain that resulted she took as a reminder not to have these thoughts. She wet the sweater in the bathroom sink before walking down the stairs again. She hoped that the blood would come out, but if it was the price for getting this far with such a friend as Ion, she considered it well-spent. Her head was still attached, after all. Ion had the woodstove roaring by then, and she walked past him and then turned with a smile, knowing several things at once. That he'd feel embarrassed about his nudity here in the shape of a man. That he'd heard her coming down the stairs and had likely watched her walk past. And finally, that this would likely be a long night of talk that she hoped he looked forward to as much as she did. She found his eyes looking at her shyly and laughed a little. Apparently, she still had it, whatever it took to get the attention of a male who had lived alone for seven decades. "I'm going to make some tea," she said, "Do you drink tea, and how do you take it?" She'd found that when he was a wolf, she could sort of get him past things if she made out like nothing was a big deal. She hoped it would work now, at least to get them past some of the awkwardness that she was sure would come. With his answer, she found and filled an old, but clean blackware kettle and set it on top of the stove while she hunted for some Ibuprofen for her head and toes. She sat on the couch behind him and indicated a spot on the floor in front of her, "I'm way too small to do this right any other way, but if you'll sit on the floor right here facing away from me for just a minute, I'd be happy to dry your hair for you." He was just about to begin shaking his head with the apologetic refusal that would go with it when he saw her determined smile as she pointed to the spot, "Sit,.....please." With a shrug and an awkward smile, he stepped over and sat. Helen wasted no time and got to work. "Listen," she said, "I want you to think about something. Over the past few days, you've seen me naked a few times, and if you need me to tell you, I'm the kind of person who is comfortable with my body. You were naked then, and yeah, you were a wolf, but I did get to see, didn't I? When you'd changed to that big beast that you can become, I saw everything then and Ion, you know when you're like that, what's there is pretty much the same as it is right now, it's just hidden better in more fur. Sorry to break this to you, but while you were sleeping right over there, I got up and I saw everything you have as you slept- " He spun his head around with a slightly wounded look that she ignored. "AND," she continued, "you have nothing to be ashamed of. I saw a man. Now while I still have a ton of clothes that I could be wearing here, you have none, right? So maybe I'm sitting here completely naked out of consideration for how you might feel. I for damn sure wouldn't have let you see me naked if I'd known then that you're a man inside that wolf, but it happened. That I'm naked now and sitting this close to a naked man means a couple of things. I'm doing this so that you don't need to feel badly that you have no clothes. That I trust you, and that I like you an awful lot. You just think about that." She worked in silence for a couple of minutes. She was done, and lowered her head to the side of his with her arms on his shoulders, "I'd think you'd just prefer to enjoy this - and I've had men in my life before. I was even married once. Believe me, I know all about men's parts and what might just happen, even though you might not want it to at the time. If that does happen, I want you to know that I'd just think that it is what it is. Don't feel bad here. We're just a couple of people, ok?" She kissed his cheek and got up to get the cups and the teabags without a backward glance. Which was just as well, he thought, with a quick downward look as he shifted once uncomfortably. He shifted again just after he remembered that her breasts had been against his back after a thought about when that had happened last. She walked up the stairs again to the linen closet and returned with a comforter. The kettle was about to begin to boil from the heat of the stovetop, now a dull red. "Could you please pull the cushions off the couch - " she smiled, "sometime while my back is turned to make our tea? Just put them there on the floor so we have something to sit on under this comforter. I'll get warm faster and you'll feel better then." And so several minutes later, they sat together under the comforter drinking tea and talking. She got up several times to make more tea, and once insisted that it was a bit unfair and that he do it just once. But by then, Ion felt much more at ease with his friend. He told her what he knew of his condition - as she seemed to call it rather insistently. "I will have some trouble," he said, "As example, I see now that I hurt you on your ear there, and I am so sorry. But I want to say that to look at this as a man, I could accept this before, but as what I am, because I care about you, I feel that I want to lick there - to try to make it better somehow. This I can never do, and you know why. Only a little from my mouth..." He shook his head. Besides the pleasant thought that he'd just given her, Helen thought for a moment, "Ion, how long was it after Danaya's arrival here that you found out about her?" He looked away for a moment, remembering, "Almost a month, I think it was, but please, Elena, I think that I could tell you everything about this. I see how you try to make me feel better, but you will need to wait some time. I am not ready yet to talk about it, about everything." She nodded, "I understand, Ion, but that wasn't why I asked. You were man and wife, right? And you had been apart for what? Three years? Did you two not even kiss each other for a month after she came?" He looked down a bit shyly, "We kissed many, many times, Elena." "And more, right?" He looked up, and found her green eyes looking at him steadily, waiting, "I read your sweet promises to her in your letter." He blushed furiously, "Yes, of course, but- " She said, "I think I understand a bit now. This thing you have, if it's a virus, or something like that, it must be a fairly large one as these things go. It must need to be placed directly into the bloodstream through a large wound or a tear that opens the bloodstream. In any person's mouth, there are always small tiny wounds, scrapes that we make with our own teeth, things like that, all the time, but we never feel them. I'm sure that two lovers such as you were must have done much more than kiss each other on the cheek, but it wasn't until she opened up your chest there with her solid bite that you were affected with this. How long between her bite and the start of it?" He shrugged, "Hours, Elena, and I washed the place over and over in this time with lye soap, even, and it burned. But I knew in only a few minutes. I could feel this in me even then." He went on to give her a brief overview of what he'd felt , and she knew that he was leaving a lot of the pain out of it. Their discussions turned to her and then a bit of the future, as he said that sadly, all he knew how to be was a farmer and how to work. Helen countered that it was nothing to sneeze at, and said that if he wanted to continue this, he could now do that, if she was successful in purchasing the island, but that maybe he ought to think about the winter months and what he'd do, "I cannot say at all, Elena. I cannot now keep cattle here, can I?" "Maybe you can, Ion. If you can control this, you can keep enough here for fattening and private consumption. If you plant a bit more crops, we'd have plenty to survive, and wouldn't need to buy much food. I'd be proud to eat what you provide. We'd have to check about a lot of things that didn't even exist when you came here, but I'm sure that a little subsistence farming just for us isn't a problem. It's when you go commercial that you need permits and paperwork out the ass." She looked over at him and laughed at his expression, taking his hand, "That's just a modern and not very nice way of saying it." He looked down at her hand and smiled, "I do not think that it would be so easy. I think the cattle would be afraid of me, no matter how I look to them. Many animals can sense this. But I am happy that you came here. I cannot say how it is all possible, but thank you for only coming here." She took her hand back and placed her other one in his as she stretched a bit to put her left one on his shoulder and leaned against him lightly, "I'm happy I came here too." They sat like this for a long time looking at the flames in the stove. Eventually the weariness of the day's terrors got to her, and she suggested that they call it a night. Ion said that he'd be happy to sleep on the floor or the couch, but she shook her head with a smile, "You forget that I've already watched you as you slept, Ion. The floor is right out for any friend of mine, especially you, unless you're a wolf who wants a nap on something hard like a floor. The couch is out too. What would happen if you went to sleep like this, and became the um, wolfman? One move in your sleep..." He smiled, "And I would be on floor anyway, so you see - " "That's why you're going to sleep in the bed, and I'll sleep down here. At least you have a chance then to get some rest." she said. Ion was willing to go a long way for her under any circumstance - even as they were before, but this was one thing that his background and his upbringing would absolutely not permit, and after a few minutes of it, Helen had to admit that there were some things that could not be moved, the Rocky Mountains came in second in the 'Immovable' category - right after Ion's iron will on something like this. "Please listen, Elena. We are friends, and you cannot know how this makes me feel inside. In my heart, I am nearly crying, I am so happy. But before you will sleep on the couch, I will sleep on the porch, or in the old barn with the mice. You are my friend too, and I will not let you do this. My heart will not let me." "Fine," she said with a small smile, "then I will do what MY heart tells me to do." It was all that she said, though he waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he asked her. She summoned up her most adamant look, though she did try to soften it a bit, "WE, you AND me, WE are going to sleep either on the floor, or in that bed upstairs. If you insist on the floor, that's where I'll be too. You want to be stubborn about it, fine. I only hope you have enough sense to choose the bed now, though either way, it's you and me, since we're each as pig-headed as the other." He stared at her, "But..." "And just think, Ion," she said pointing with a smirk, "if you think THAT'S uncomfortable now with a naked woman just sitting next to you, imagine how it will be lying next to me," His eyes opened wide at the thought but she wasn't done, "And just so you know, I like warm, and that's another nice thing about you, so I'm gonna be about this close to you all night long." She held up her thumb and forefinger squeezed together. He laughed then, he couldn't remember when he'd laughed like this. It had been so long. So she was smart, beautiful, AND she really could argue him into the ground, just as she'd said she could. "I will sleep in the barn, then," he said with an evil smile. "All right, tough guy, but that just means I'm going to be even closer to you." His mouth fell open. "Two reasons," she said, "I'll need you to keep me even warmer then, and I'll only feel safe from the mice if you hold me." He threw up his hands, "I am back where I started then. I will have to sleep outside as beast." "No, she said, reaching to pull his head to hers and kissing his lips quickly, "You will have to grow a brain and sleep in the bed with me. I don't actually want to do anything but sleep right now. I can't promise about tomorrow night, but for tonight, that's what I want." He shook his head, "You are so beautiful, Elena, but what you want..." Her pretty eyebrows rose, "You don't think you can sleep next to me, is that it?" "Of course I can," he said, "I even WANT to sleep like this, but I do not think that I CAN sleep under this thick blanket here, What if I change? I did not even know that I change while I sleep. What happens then?" She smiled with a chuckle, "Then, since I want to sleep with your arm over me, I'll be even warmer, won't I?" "But I could... you will feel..." "I'm sure I'll feel just fine, Ion, and I know what you're trying to say, though you're embarrassed about it. It won't bother me. But fine, you win. If you want to be that way, you get to sleep in the bed, and I'll sleep on the couch." He was relieved. He cared about her, and as he lay in the bed, he even had a wishful hope that this could be more than an odd friendship that they shared. His eyes had been closed for several minutes before they flew open as the realization came to him that she'd gotten her way after all. He began to chuckle at himself. Elena was amazing, he thought. "What are you laughing about?" her voice came to him from downstairs. "I am laughing how you won this." he called to her. "Do I have your admiration for the way that I argue?" He laughed at himself again, "Yes! Admiration," he repeated, "you have it." She appeared in the doorway a minute later, and his breath caught in his throat as he looked at her in the dim light of the moon, now that the storm was done. She walked to him slowly, "I'm glad then, it feels good to have someone's admiration." she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss him, "But even though I was joking around with you, now I realize that I'd still rather have your arms around me." She slid her hand over his chest as his reached for her shoulder. "Can I have both, the admiration and your arms?" Ion smiled and nodded, as he moved to make room for her. She got onto the bed and pushed herself back until she was as completely against him as she could get. She turned her head, "I was still a little cold." Just an Old Legend Ch. 06 He kissed her as softly as he could, "Sleep then and I will keep you warm," She felt him against her there, knowing that he couldn't help that, and then felt him shift as his arm folded over her carefully. She felt the fur against her and smiled. He waited until he was finished with the change, and carefully pulled her tighter to him, as she held his clawed hand to her breast. She was quietly astounded when the arm that she was lying on curled up to hold her shoulder joint in the other hand. She settled her head there under his chin, "Goodnight Ion, thank you for being my friend." He smiled, "Thank you for being my very brave friend, Elena. Goodnight." "Why do you think I'm brave?" "For what you did tonight," he said, "You still wanted to be my friend, and you knew, Elena, what I am when you walked out. Even now you are brave, only for lying here - for coming here to lie down to sleep against me like this." He heard her soft chuckle, "I didn't want to lose my friend because we didn't understand each other and I had been afraid of you like that. Now? I'm just any regular woman, you should know yourself that we always want to be warm. Didn't you lie with Danaya after you knew?" "Yes." "Why did you do that, Ion?" she asked. He sighed, "Because she was my wife, and because I loved - " He stopped. Helen smiled in the darkness and just pushed back a little, "Mm-Hmm." "Do you say that you love me, Elena?" He was shocked. "I don't know," she said, "I think we like each other enough for this tonight, and for tomorrow, we'll have to see. Goodnight." He carefully pulled her tighter to him, this woman who, given time, had unraveled the weave of twisted history and superstition that he'd been bound in. He was aware that this same ability would allow her to see his heart whether he tried to hide it or not. It didn't matter to him. He had one friend in all of the world now, one lovely friend for him, and she was in his arms. He had trouble with English sometimes, but for this there were no words for him in any tongue. Finally, he had some inner peace. ------------------------- 11:36PM Local time, Birmingham United Kingdom The bag lady stood in a tiny alcove watching the entrance to a popular local club a few doors down the street. A typical Saturday night in Birmingham, she sighed, with people out enjoying themselves in the club district. She pulled her dirty, over-sized sweatshirt a bit higher up on her shoulders to get a little more overhang from the hood to hide her face, and then reached up her sleeve to check the straps on her right wrist for comfortable snugness without running the risk of cutting off any circulation. She looked down and blinked slowly for a moment to hopefully ease a bit of the discomfort from her contact lenses and then she checked that her bags were still there leaning against her legs just so. She smoothed the old-fashioned plaid skirt and pretended to ignore the holes in her old leotards. Doing this also had the benefit of making her less noticeable to the policeman who had just walked past. She hoped for an end to this soon. If he came back, she knew that she'd have to move long before he got to her. People swirled around her, most not even knowing that she was there, and some stepping sideways a bit as a precaution in case the old woman might try to bother them for their change or just plain bother them. She didn't mind. At least those ones took her mind off the drag of the time spent here. If anyone looked as though they'd get a bit too close to her in passing, she'd begin to mutter whatever craziness came to her mind, and they'd veer off. She was waiting for a particular person to make an appearance by leaving that club. It had been just over an hour now. Maybe the pickings were slim tonight, the bagwoman surmised as she waited, or perhaps the woman whom she'd followed here just hadn't found anyone who had appealed to her. She couldn't figure that out. What difference would the appeal have to do with it? She supposed that someone such as the person who she was here for might have a preference to find somebody who at least bathed a bit regularly, but in a place like that it shouldn't be all that hard to do. But then, she reasoned, everybody is different. Maybe it was because statistically, your average run of the mill werewolf had once been a human themselves, but the vast majority detested the thought of eating human flesh. The federation had banned it for several reasons. Those who engaged in the hunting and killing of people for dietary consumption tended to have a nasty habit of wanting to continue the practice, for one thing. That almost every self-respecting werewolf was repulsed by the thought of it played a large part, obviously. Perhaps the biggest reason was that torn up and half-eaten bodies tended to come to light eventually. The federation was all about integrating seamlessly with the human world. Humans were unaware of the werewolf population which lived peacefully among them for the most part, and that was all to the good. Nobody wanted the attention that this sort of grisly hobby could bring. And of course there was the plain fact that humans really don't taste all that good to most werewolves, she thought. In her own past there had been a time when she'd been hunted and had been forced to kill a couple of people in order to make her getaway. That had been before they'd all gotten together and tried to leave the solitary, self-destructive part of their nature behind them once and for all. In her case, it was a move based in desperation and not deadly intent. She'd been caught and then had to fight her way out. Once in the clear, she'd spent the next few hours spitting and gagging, washing her mouth out repeatedly to be rid of the awful taste. It was worse than eating a crow, she remembered. But this one here, this girl in the club seemed to have made something of a regular thing of it. She wasn't part of the federation, but that didn't matter. Decide that you liked to gnaw human body parts off for nourishment and sooner or later you'd come to the federation's attention and be branded a renegade even if you weren't aware of it. And then they'd send somebody after you. In this case, a bag lady, she smirked. The commotion of a small group of people noisily exiting the club caught her attention and she looked pointedly. Yes, there she was, on one end of an obviously tipsy threesome of women, laughing and giggling over some drunken joke or comment that one of them had made. The attention of the girl at the other end was drawn by a man who had called to her and she wandered in that direction to flirt a little. The pair continued on, and as the bagwoman picked up her bags she just caught the glint in her target's eye for a split-second as she tried to guide her new-found friend toward an alley. Switching both bags to her left hand now, the bag lady toddled over, muttering to herself loudly, and waving one arm a little to emphasize her point to someone who wasn't there. The target noticed her and tried harder to steer her victim away, but the homeless seem to have a knack for getting into your path and staying there. She muttered louder argumentatively, and then as she got very close, she extended her foot a bit just in the right place to catch her mark's toes. Their collision would normally have never happened had the target been alone, but when you're half-holding someone up without appearing to be too strong just yet, it gets a bit harder to avoid the bothersome schizophrenics who wander about on the loose in urban areas. She half-stumbled off balance for just an instant. The mark's eyes opened a little wider as her nose sent her brain a warning that there was more than just the scent of a filthy old woman here, but she hadn't sorted it out yet. In the middle of the confusion, the old woman's right hand curled inward unseen in the dark, and the heavily plated dagger slid down into her latex-covered hand. "Hey, mind where yer walkin'," the old bagwoman muttered. She brought her arm up as though to steady herself, but instead she shoved the blade under the target's sternum and into her heart. The bag lady instantly changed her tune to a more conciliatory one. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear, are you alright?" she asked as she applied a sideways motion right to left, and then she twisted her hand to repeat the motion front to back. The target's breath hissed inward in agony as the silver on the blade scorched her deep inside. The face under the hood in front of her smiled, and the stricken changeling saw that her assailant wasn't old at all, but she had no strength to save herself now. She gasped in a half-whisper. It was all that her rapidly waning strength would allow. The sudden pain was more than she could scream through and she slumped forward as the old woman cut twice more before pulling the blade out. For a werewolf, there is no recovery - no possibility of healing oneself of a heart shredded by a silver blade. She was already very nearly dead as she sank to the pavement. The intended victim was just beginning to clue in that there was something amiss when the bagwoman began to yell at an imaginary purse-snatcher as she turned. "Hey!" she cried, "Come back with the lady's purse, you!" Anyone who looked would have seen no one but an old woman who looked as though she would smell pretty ripe run off to give chase. About the only thing remarkable would be the speed of her progress. She was out of sight in the darkness by the time that the drunken girl saw the spreading blood and was able to manage her first horrified scream. Several bystanders came running to help, but there was a dead person on the street now with a burned hole low in her chest which would soon confound the coroner. A block and a half away now, the bag lady began her metamorphosis. The bags had been discarded along with the glove and the smelly hoodie. The dagger and wristbands had been peeled off and dropped into a trash can that would be the only one emptied by the passing refuse truck in about twenty minutes. As she turned the next corner well out of sight of the commotion, she smiled as she walked, a pretty young woman in a plaid skirt over trendy torn leotards and sneakers, now a couple of inches taller without the feigned stoop to her shoulders. That was one of the reasons for her smile. It felt good to walk normally again. Her face clouded over after a few seconds as an old memory came to her mind. That she'd ever been able to walk normally was due in large part to one person, just a boy in the mountains so long ago. She'd never gotten the opportunity to thank him and show him how she'd finally gotten to be able to walk unaided like everyone else without a thought. He'd never seen how she could run as fast as anyone could, mostly because of his efforts then. She didn't have these recollections often unless she visited the place where he'd taught her to draw strength from inside herself where he knew it lived in abundance. She fought off the sting in her eyes and blamed the contact lenses that she'd worn to hide the color of her irises from her target. The passage of time was inevitable, but that didn't remove the debt from her heart. He'd been her only childhood friend. After all that she'd been through and everything that she'd become, he was still the only boy she'd ever loved. She shook the thought from her mind and crossed the street to get into the parked Acura. She had no time for this now, but as she twisted the ignition key and checked her mirror, she wondered if he'd have been proud of her. ------------------- 8:04AM Local time 30,000 Islands Georgian Bay, Ontario Canada His eyes opened as the power was restored. Specifically, it had been the quiet hum of the refrigerator that he'd heard through the structure of the building. The birds outside were exchanging their morning pleasantries, and by the diffuse daylight coming in under the overhang, it would soon be mid-morning. He couldn't ever remember sleeping this late. He gradually became aware of several things. He was not alone here, Helen's soft breathing came to his ears. He looked for her and smiled at her soft expression in sleep. He took it in for a moment, and thought that he could have looked at her all day, just like this. But there were other considerations. The first was the discomfort of the messages that his brain was receiving. He moved his hand, knowing what he'd find, but reaching anyway. His bladder began to yell for attention, and he was faced with the small conundrum that human males are faced with a lot of mornings - a rock-solid erection at the same time that he painfully needed to pee. It doesn't work both ways, he thought, as he began to carefully shift so that he could get out of bed, hopefully without waking her. One or the other, he told his body. But the pressure of his bladder had been a major contributor here. The conundrum was that as long as he was anywhere near erect, he couldn't pee, and even if some angel magically appeared to help with the arousal, he thought with a smirk, the bursting bladder would painfully demand attention too. As he got to where he could get to the floor, there was another deep discomfort, an ache. Despite his struggles the evening before with his bashfulness, his upbringing, Helen's comfort with their unclothed condition, and his trying to come to grips with all of that, there was always the primal male underneath everything. And he'd had so many erections over the course of the time, that now there was this ache. Well, he thought, as he remembered a few of the adventures of his own rural adolescence, despite how teenage boys plead with their dates, nothing had changed. This hadn't killed him then, it certainly wouldn't kill him now. It was just something that he hadn't experienced for a long time. He wanted to look at her for more than the moment as he stood at the door, but his bladder wouldn't allow more than a long glance. It took a lot of concentration, but he finally managed to empty his bladder, and that seemed to take forever today. The dull ache? He shrugged, and walked back to the bedroom to stand leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. If he looked with a critical eye, he thought as he searched his memory, he could find a few little flaws to her wonder. But that would take the eye of a person shopping for the best fruit, an old man or woman peering at every piece as though they feared that the shopkeeper wanted to cheat them. He smirked to himself for making the comparison. Danaya had been perfect, he'd thought, way back then - and she was in her way - but compared to this beauty, she'd been a stick girl, for all of her blonde loveliness. Elena wasn't large either, not that it mattered, he realized. Every woman has her flaws and her wonders. But to his eye, Elena was easily the epitome of feminine beauty. He'd been with more than a few farm girls in his time, but he'd never once seen someone like Elena. She wasn't large, she wasn't small, everything, every detail was just a variance, maybe even a tiny bit off perfection. But combined, taken together, or even in large pieces of her, like a leg, or a shoulder, for example, she was a prize to be cherished, worthy of any artist's brush or the film of a photographer. And she loved him, he thought - a little, anyway. To his cautious mind, there had to be at least a little love in her for him or she'd never have done this. No woman without some feelings would have crawled into bed with something like he was. He couldn't understand why she was alone. Surely some man, somewhere... He remembered that she'd said that she'd been married. To his way of thinking, that would have meant that she must now be widowed, normally, but over the time that he'd lived here with the occasional renters passing through, he'd snagged a magazine or newspaper now and then and struggled to read them. He knew that people today sometimes fail in their loves, and wondered how to broach this to her. She was on her back with her face toward him now, and he listened to her breathing. Every once in a while she gave a soft snore that made him grin. He followed the lines of her legs, the series of curves there that led to the wondrously long and impossible to describe arcs of her hips, one of the wonders of a woman to a man with eyes to appreciate it all. Her abdomen and stomach were flattened in the way that made his pulse pick up. He'd been with women who had disliked having a man see them as they lay like this for what gravity did to their breasts, but most men don't care, and Helen certainly didn't have a reason to feel any sense of deficiency or lack of beauty. His eye went to details, and it could be said that here too, there were imperfections, but pulling back even just a little, they complimented each other. He stared at her lovely throat with a barely audible sigh. He knew that he could spend a week only in that one area appreciating. With a shrug, he admitted to himself that even if this worked, even if she'd let him, he probably never could love every square inch of her the way that beauty such as hers demanded. His eyes went to her face, partially hidden by her long wavy dark hair, and he had the feeling that he could lose himself just there as she slept, never mind how he could just drift off watching her face as she spoke to him, or only smiled at him. There was a danger there, he realized suddenly. It had already happened the night before. She could talk to him, and he could drift off to the sound of her soft voice, spellbound as he stared at her loveliness. He could miss the content of her words then, and she deserved to be heard, he decided. He became aware that her breathing had changed, and even with this warning, he was totally unprepared for it when she opened her eyes to look at him. He stood spellbound. "Hi," she said softly, and he was lost again. He struggled to come up with something besides what he imagined must be a goofy grin, though she didn't see it that way. She was looking fondly at male perfection topped with a smile that said a lot. "The electricity is on again," he tried tentatively. She nodded and sighed as she stretched, and he thought that he'd fall down then. "I have to, well, you know," she said, and he nodded, "Of course." She swung her legs over the bed, "And I have to do a lot of laundry, I guess," she said as she stood and walked to him, reaching up to kiss him softly, "You stay right here. I'll be back," she said as she trailed her hand down his arm in passing. She tried to think of something, some conversation that they might have now, she didn't know if he could hear what she was doing as she sat there, "Hey, Ion, I was thinking, if you were to start farming again now, do you have what you need to do that? You're still the same man who started this farm, but your tools and things must have aged. Maybe sometime today you could look at that so we know what we need." He nodded to himself. "A lot of it has turned to rust, I think and any leather straps have been eaten by the mice or are dust now. I can look." "Good," she said, coming back to him to hug him tightly for a moment. She felt him brush against her as his reaction began again and she smiled at him. "I've got a lot of things to do today, but this guy here just won't give up, will he?" Ion was only slightly embarrassed now, "No, it seems not, Elena." To his surprise, she took gentle hold of him and grinned, "Well you just bring that over here then, we'll have to make some time, I guess." As they moved on the bed, exchanging kisses, she'd have thought that his would become more insistent, and they did, but remained the soft kind that she could drift away in. It was almost more than she could exert control over. She had a doubt, an uncertainty that nagged at her, and she was careful to only allow him so much. Just an Old Legend Ch. 06 "Not till later," she whispered, "I can help you with this, Ion, but I don't want to go where we need to go right now, and I really want to. Just trust me here." It turned into more of a petting session between them, but she worked at it mostly to give him some relief, though the things that he did always tempted her to just throw everything to the wind. She'd already been pleased a couple of times, though not in the way that she wanted, before he groaned in his throat, and she felt the seminal fluid. She felt a bit sad. She'd wanted to do more than just use her hands, but there was an unknown here that they hadn't had time to talk about. She began to stop her motions, but he asked her to please continue, and she was happy to, though she couldn't understand why. He asked her to just continue in small motions, so she did. It took about ten minutes. Ten minutes, she noticed, during which time his contractions had almost, but not quite abated. Four more times, they'd returned strongly and there was more from him. She'd never seen anything like this before and wondered where it all came from. They were both something of a mess now. When she finally felt him begin to soften, she kissed him, "Better?" He nodded weakly with a smile, and his thanks. "Good, and thank you," she smiled as she kissed him, "I only hope there's some hot water by now. We need a shower, and now this cover needs a wash too." She sighed, "I guess there's more work to keeping a wolf-man than I thought. Do you always do this?" "Yes," he nodded in some embarrassment, "since I became this. I am sorry, Elena." "Don't be," she said with a grin, "I guess I did that well for you, so I'm happy about that. I Just don't get how you can do that. I've never seen so much. Do you know how to work the shower?" He nodded, and she told him to get started, though they'd both be dripping wet with only the one towel between them, and her hair normally needed a couple by itself, but she didn't mind. He was surprised when she got into the shower with him, though it left little room. "Small hot water tank," she said apologetically with a smile. Since neither of them were hungry, they just had some coffee. His eyes were closed in near-rapture, "This, and the tea last night, Elena. I had forgotten how this tastes." He was able to find one old tape measure in the barn. It wasn't his, he'd mostly used a reel type. The tape in that had been canvas, and there was nothing left of it now. But the first few feet of this old steel one were still good, if a little rusty, and Helen used it to get some measurements of his body, hoping to find some trackwear or something that would fit him. They talked as she worked. "I'm going to head in to town in a little while," she said, "We need some things. I'm going to get a ton of food and maybe give the bears around here a little break." she smiled. Placing her arm around him as he sat, she kissed his cheek and continued, "How is it that you can um, do what you did up there? I've never known any man who did that, no matter what I did." He was a bit embarrassed, but he was getting better, he thought, "I do not know. I only know that things changed when I was bitten. Before this, I was as you have just said. Little things are different about me, even as man. I think maybe I am like wolf in some ways, like as I said last night about your ear." It gave Helen an Idea, and she turned on her laptop. That brought a lot of questions from him, but she told him that she'd explain better when she got back. She told him to slide his chair over beside hers. Within a few minutes, even at her painfully slow dial-up speed, she knew a few things about canine physiology. "When you're the wolf,' she asked, "have you ever mated with a real wolf?" He blushed furiously, and shook his head, "I think about it once, but I would have to fight her male at least, maybe whole pack, kill them, and for what? They run from me anyway." "That's ok, Ion. I'm not trying to embarrass you, I was just looking for something. Try not to be embarrassed here, but is there something that's different about your, um, penis as a man? I think I already know the answer, but I want to be sure." He'd have just gotten up and walked out before, but she cared for him, he knew, and she was trying to help. He said that he hadn't noticed anything different. "From what I read, deep inside, there is supposed to be a small bone in a dog or wolf," she said, "Men don't have that, and you don't either as far as I could tell. Which is a good thing, I guess, but how you can go on for so long at the end raises another question. Kind of a big one for me." He looked at her and said that if he could help, he'd be glad to, and to ask him anything. She smiled and leaned against him, "I don't think you know the answer, my friend." She pulled his jaw around further and kissed him softly for a moment. "Before you get all embarrassed again, I want you to look at this from my side, if you can, and don't you dare want to go off all alone into the woods hating yourself again. It's just something that we need to think about because I'm pretty sure that somehow we do love each other, right?" He nodded, but felt a cold uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. "What is it?" "Well, you're three things, and even though you can make these huge changes to yourself, there seem to be some parts that remain constant between them. Like your mind, your eyes, the way that you're, um, built there, and that makes me wonder about something else in that neighborhood, Ion. Even if it's the worst answer, I think that we can get around a lot of it, but there's the one thing," She looked at him. "Everything works right, just like it's supposed to, and believe me, I'm glad. But what kind of bullets are you shooting here? Man, wolf, or what? And I know that you don't know the answer to that." She kissed him again, and got up to make them more coffee. He looked at the door. "Don't even think about it, we're just trying to figure things out together," He looked at her back. She'd said that without even looking at him, but turned now with a smirk, "I know you a little bit, Ion. Let's just work on this, I even have a solution or two already, and I still accept you, so just calm down. If it's some of that strange male pride that's bothering you, I sure don't see you as less than a man. Do you need me to repeat that, just to make sure it sinks in?" He shook his head. "Good, because even if you were a normal man, I've never met anyone like you." She sipped her coffee after placing his in front of him, "How was your wife after she arrived? Any difference that you could tell?" He nodded, with a slightly grim expression. "Good," she said, "that's where you'll start then," sliding a letter pad and a pen to him, "While I'm in town, could you please try to make a list of what kind of farming things you'd need just to get started? But the most important part is this - " "But I have trouble speaking English sometimes, Elena. Writing it is hard for me." She shook her head, "I don't have to read it, you'll read it to me, so write it however you want to. I want you to make a list of ALL of the things that were different about Danaya when she came from how you remembered her - everything, no matter how small, or even if it makes you uncomfortable to tell me. This is important to me, Ion, and to us. If you haven't figured it out yet, women today are not as shy as they were back then and there. We talk about things. Sometimes, we even talk about them to the men in our lives," she winked with a smile. "So while I'm gone, even if you don't get to the farm stuff just yet, do this for us. Everything, remember, physical things about her body, changes in her way of acting to you, anything that you can remember. I know you might have trouble with the memory, I understand that perfectly, that's why I want you to do this while I'm gone, ok?" He nodded, "Yes." With a bit of a thought, he spoke up, "You will find boat on the other side of dock. I moved it. Was in wind too much and I was afraid it would break, maybe. Will maybe be full of water too, now. I will empty it for you. There is small red pump." She was amazed at him, and said so, but she didn't see how he could pump it out for her, considering he had no clothes. He just smiled and told her to get going as he stood up and hugged her to him. After his long kiss, she admitted that she really didn't feel like going anywhere now, but that she'd do it anyway. Ion laughed and after a quick kiss, he was out the door. By the time she'd gotten dressed, tied her hair in a loose braid, and applied a bit of makeup to cover the slight discoloration that her impact with the door had brought, he was already well into emptying the boat. He had no idea how his making a list as she'd asked him to could help, but for her, it was nothing to him if he could help her. She stood there in amazement as she reached the dock, "Ion, you know that there are water skiers and fishing boats all around here, what are you doing?" It took him a second to stare at her and how she looked with her hair braided, but he laughed, "People only see what they want to see, Elena. Nobody that far away sees dog in water, and nobody sees man here on this side emptying boat standing in water!" He scowled as the pump began to suck air a minute later, "But I can go no more, I think. I must get on dock or in boat to do more. But there is plug to empty boat as long as it moves. Only be sure to put back before you stop, yes?" She laughed at him and tousled his hair, "This is great, Ion, thank you." He nodded with that smile of his and slipped under the dock. She watched for a moment as the wolf swam off from the other side, getting in to start the motor. Just an Old Legend Ch. 07 I'd like to thank the many readers who provide a bit of feedback now and then. For one thing, it let's me know if I haven't done something as well as perhaps I should have. The comments that I've seen for this tale tells me that I've left one or two scratching their heads and I take that as my failing. If I was a better writer, I might have avoided that. ~shrug~ In my defense, I'll say that this tale has twists and turns, but it shouldn't give you a headache either. So with that said, allow me to make a few things a bit clearer. Ion is the boy of long ago. He lost contact with the girl and later was married, but left his homeland to start a farm. In the meantime, his wife was bitten, and he knew nothing about it until she arrived to join him in their new land seventy years ago. In this chapter, you'll hear his recollections in his own words, but to answer a comment from a reader, he has never left the island after being bitten. It's a long, long swim to the mainland. The danger in winter is that the area is a vacation playground to many and the frozen channel echoes with the whine of many snowmobiles for most of the night. He'd rather not be caught out on the ice, since whenever he's been in contact with humans, it usually ends with their deaths, since they shoot him. It's an incorrect assumption he's made. He'd try to fit in if he had some way to, but he has no clothes anymore, and based on how he was treated when he was a man, he thinks he'd stick out like a sore thumb as soon as he opens his mouth. He knows nothing of the multicultural aspect of today's society. Back then, he was one of the few immigrants for miles in that area. And of course, there's that other thing that he doesn't know about yet. To get by in today's world, you need some kind of identity. So do the munchy thing if you need to, and dig in. This will be a long one. Oh, and I've added a glimpse of the Huntress again for her um, fans. :) I should point out that I know nothing of the established ways of the packs that appear in the tales of others. These are my werewolves, after all. -------------------- He sat in the shade of an overhanging tree with her pad of paper and the pen. He kept looking at the thing. Almost all of his writing had been done with a pencil, and he'd used an ink pen once in a while. Ballpoint pens were something brand new for him, being commercially available on a wide scale only just after he'd come to this country, and back then, he sure didn't have money to try out anything new. He'd seen them in the store, but had needed nails. The choice had been easy for him. He looked at the paper again. He had a couple of pages of terse notes now. A lot of this had been difficult for him to write for a few reasons, but every time that he'd balked at putting something down, he remembered Elena's request and was hopeful to solve this question for her. All of this was hard for him to do. But he knew how he felt, and she'd said that she'd felt the same way. Loving someone could be hard enough without his curse now affecting even this. It made him determined in his quiet way. Anything, any detail that he could smile at and interpret as somehow cheating what had robbed him of the life that any man had some expectation to be able to live, well it brought him pleasure now. All he'd wanted was a life with the woman that he'd loved, to maybe have children with her, and then grow old together. All of that had been torn from him with her awful bite that one terrible night, just as the bite that she'd suffered before had cheated her - as if she hadn't had enough to worry about. Well she'd been dead and gone a long time now, he thought, and he'd suffered for that and more. If this could work between himself and Elena, well he'd welcome anything with her. He already knew that it would be impossible to tear himself away from her now. She liked to be close to him, it still amazed him. That she wanted to find a way for them to ... he shook his head. He didn't know for certain, but he strongly doubted that Danaya, as much as she'd loved him, could have brought herself to want to do this if it had been him with this thing in him beforehand instead of her. He looked down at his list, and doubted if he could think of anything more. He put the list on the deck of the house and began to walk to the dock. Just as he got near the ridge, he heard her boat, and walked to where he'd be able to see her. Their meeting brought them both to laughter. Helen loved the picture of this wonderful man stepping into her view completely naked, and hoped that he'd continue to do this for her once in a while. He laughed at her slightly shocked and very pleased smile, even more after she'd told him that the sight had made her think very hard about just throwing off her clothes right there. With her purchases put away, she taught him how to work the clothes washer and drier. He'd looked a bit askance at her, and she already knew the thoughts there. She asked him to examine the machines, and tell her what parts of them indicated to him that they were only for female use. "That's right, my friend, there aren't any. If you were here as a normal guy, you'd have to do this too. You're normal enough for this. I'll show you the things of mine that you can't just dump in and crank. I'll wash those myself. There are a lot of things that we're different in, Ion, but there are more that we are the same in. I can't do what you do, and you can't do what I can, at least not yet, but there are common things, so you do your half, and I'll do mine." He nodded with a smile. She thought she'd have more trouble with it, but she hugged him and showed him how to make coffee the easy way with instant. Then she pulled out the clothes that she'd gotten him. Almost all of them even fit him, and she was amazed. She loved how he looked in a T-shirt, but after looking at him a little while, she asked him to take it off for a while. He had a bit of trouble with her explanation that if he kept it on, she'd want to rip it off him, so why not just spare the shirt, she'd said, as she handed him another one to try on. Helen promised him that now they could go into town and get him the kinds of things that would fit properly and suit his activities better as a farmer - just to start with. Ion began to protest at the cost of this to her after seeing the price tags on a few things, but she explained a little about inflation to him and pointed out that he'd need clothes to wear no matter what, and that seemed to settle him down. She asked him about the list and he produced it. His face took on a bit of a somber look. "Understand, please, Elena, we were poor people. I worked long time to have money to come here and begin. Elena worked long and hard and I sent money when I have some for her to come. When she came was war, and still she came here, and all alone." He looked down, "I do not think that she was bad." Helen hugged him, "Of course not, Ion. I didn't think that she was anyway. I only see this as something terrible that happened to you both. There's no way I can know how you must have felt, but I'm trying to understand, and you don't have to tell me what you don't want to, either. I hope you know that. I only need to know what I asked about. Try to tell me like it's a machine that is broken and what you saw." "Danaya was beautiful girl," he said, "and always very shy. When she came here, I think I see that she is not shy so much anymore. I think this is good thing at first." He went on to relate a sad tale that included Danaya's depredations on their cattle, but Helen stopped him. "Ion, forgive me, but you're telling me the facts like I'm interviewing a crime suspect - and that's not what I wanted, but I'll listen whenever you want to tell it to me. I wanted things like how she was different as your wife." "Yes," he nodded, turning the page, "I have this too." and he began to read what he'd noted. Helen made notes of her own on some points. When he was finished, she made them some coffee and sat down next to him. "So she was more argumentative, and moody, but you thought this might be because of the isolation of your home here..." This carried on until Helen had worked out some things about their sex life and how it had changed. Danaya had become more assertive, which Ion had initially welcomed, but he began to detect a worsening pattern after he found out about her new nature - that is, that she was a werewolf. She had always been deathly afraid of becoming pregnant because her health had been so frail, but now welcomed him and wouldn't hear of him withdrawing when he ejaculated. She began to change her form in the middle of coitus, and now wanted more than anything to be mounted from behind. She sometimes grew dissatisfied with this position and would then prefer to be on top. Ion had no problems with any of this, though he wasn't as attracted to her in her middle form and refused to have anything to do with her as a wolf. She tried to beg, plead and cajole him into allowing her to bite him, saying that they could still love this way and how it would be better because she knew somehow that she could give him children this way. At last one day she told him that it was only a matter of time before she bit him in any event, but by then he had already seen firsthand the destruction that she was capable of, and though it broke his heart, he prepared to kill her, fearing for the people of the town. One night, she demanded sex while he was in the milking shed, and tore most of his clothes off before climbing onto him. Ion had taken to keeping the shotgun nearby wherever he went, and it was close enough for him to reach. Danaya had laughed at his carrying it around telling him that she didn't fear it, but she did not know about the slugs that he had cast and used in the shells. Ion looked up with tears in his eyes, "She bit me then, Elena. And then she laughed. She said that now she had her way, and I would be wolf too." He wiped his eyes with his hand, "It hurt to move my arm, anything, I pushed her with gun, and she laughed again, but I shot her. She flew back and up and she hit beside the door and fell. I went to her." He took a deep breath and sobbed. His voice cracked as he said, "She was my Danaya again, but she told me I am fool before she died." He was silent a long time, and Helen hugged him and thanked him for telling him such a painful thing. He asked her if she had what she wanted, and she said, "Not everything yet, but I have what I need, I think. I just have to think about a few things. What I wanted to know must be in there someplace," She looked up, "But let's not worry about that for now. Come here," she said as she pulled him to face her part way, and she shifted the rest of the way to lean in. She kissed him very softly for a few minutes and then pulled back, "You're not a fool. You're a man who has lived through a very long hell." She touched his hair and smoothed some of it behind his ear, "Can you go on? What happened after that?" He took a breath, but then looked into her green eyes and smiled at least a little, "Thank you, Elena. For doing this for me. I feel better, a little bit because of telling you." Elena nodded as a way to encourage him. "I did not know what would happen then, but I was did not want to leave her there like that." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I was crying very hard," he said, "but I picked her up and moved her to middle of the floor. I - I went to the house and came back with some lamp oil. I poured a lot on her and the rest I poured everywhere and lit it. She had killed all of the cows anyway and the horse too while I was working for a farmer near the town to get money for silver. When I was sure that fire could not go out, I tried very heard to clean blood and where she bit me. I wrote a letter about everything then. I do not know why I did this. I came back to be sure that she was burned. I stayed until there was nothing very much left. Then I ran to the end of the island. By the time that I got there, I was beginning to change, and everything hurt. I do not know how long I was like that, but I woke up and I was like wolf. It was daytime." "I smelled the smoke of the fire and I smelled the men who came. They stood around and from what they say, they wait then for the constable to come. I hid from them. It was easy to do this now. People came and went for days, and I hid. At night time, they were always gone and it was then that I was the worst. I did not want to hurt anybody, but now I looked at the smaller ones and thought about eating. I think that I lost my mind sometimes, but no one found me. They did not look much, because they were looking for a man," he looked down, "who killed his wife." "After they did not come back, I found I could change myself, but I was hungry and I wanted to be dead. I even tried to kill myself. I tore myself open many times, but I did not die. I always get better very quickly. Finally, I just began to hunt the animals here. If I refused to eat anything, I change to wolf and just hunted anyway. There was nothing that I could do to stop it." He looked at her with a sudden worry, "Sometimes I must hunt something, Elena. I, ... this cannot be stopped. I have hunted men before, but I have never left the island to do this. This does not make it right, what I did, but I did not want to hunt them. It was in the years after, I was hunted because some men thought that I was some animal. They didn't seem to be sure of what animal, but they were here to hunt and saw something to shoot at." He looked at her, "I got away if I could, Elena, but it is an island. If they hurt me, or if there were too many of them, then I would hunt them. Please believe me. I have tasted human meat, but I never ate it. I only killed to protect myself, and most of them looked like they had drowned. Some had broken neck. By the time anyone came to find them, the other animals and the fish had their chance to eat." "How did they hurt you?" she asked. He shrugged, "Once with a trap that I did not see in time, it was kind that closes on the leg. It hurt, but it was not made to catch something that could open it again. I got away from it, but then I knew that someone who had set trap would come back to look. I think he was trapper. I don't think he was trying to catch what I was. But he came back and searched a few days later. He saw me as a wolf and before I could get away, he shot me, so I kill him. I have been shot many times, Elena." "What happens then," she asked. Ion shrugged, "I get better very quickly." He stood up, "I will show you. Come." He walked to the sink and lifted out the coffee cups from earlier in the day. He opened a drawer and selected a short knife with a wavy edge. "Do you faint when you see blood?" She shook her head, but before she could ask him why, he held his arm over the sink and cut deeply in a long line that she could see must have severed more than one artery in a lengthwise direction. He quickly leaned forward to keep the spray of the blood aimed at the sink. Elena hadn't even had time to accept what Ion had just done before the deep slash had closed and the flow of the blood was stopped. "I can do this again if you want me to," he said as he turned the tap on to carefully clean the sink. She shook her head, and he turned the arm so that the damaged area was on top. As she watched, it finished closing and healed in seconds. "Would cut like this kill a man if the blood did not stop?" She saw that he already knew the answer as she nodded and kept watching. Inside of a minute, there was no trace of what he'd done, no scar, nothing. "Killing myself has been dream of mine for long time," he said, "but there is only one way, and I have missed my only chances. The door was locked, and I did not want to leave a sign that I was here in case I failed. Then the fat man took the gun away before I could stop him without killing him." He looked at her and then stepped to the spice shelf. He touched nothing, but turned back to her in a second, "There is silver here. Why did you lie to me last night? Shells are here. I can smell gunpowder on a shelf that has only spices. I can smell the gunpowder from the shells still in the box over there. And I feel the silver. Why, Elena?" She shook her head as she stepped back, and he saw the beginnings of her fear and shook his head as he raised his palms, "I am not angry. I think I know why you do this. It was because I would have used one last night. I understand. I think I have something else to thank you for now." he stood looking down in some shame, but he took her hand, and before she could pull it back, he'd kissed it. Elena stood in shock, but she stepped forward to put her arms around his neck, "You're always beating yourself up. I have my own confession to make to you." She looked into his yellow eyes and felt the power of his gaze again. She felt his honesty, and felt a little worse about her own. "I hate lies, Ion. I felt bad last night for telling you one, but I was a bit desperate. I'm sorry for that - but I'm glad now that I did it." "You wanted to stop me, I understand." She shook her head, "That's very true. That was the main reason, the one that caused me to lie before you could stomp away to get the gun. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't have been able to stop you. But it's not the only reason, Ion. I didn't want my friend to end his life, " she reached for his face, and strained up to kiss him for a moment. "I wanted to know more," she said, "I wanted to know you more than anything. I, ... I think that I also wanted to have a chance like this with someone like you. I felt like it was the last chance that I'd ever get, and don't ask me to explain it because I can't. I think that I almost used that thing on myself on the way back from town yesterday." She watched his expression change. She knew what he was about to ask. "Because, ... because I thought that I had a reason to give up right then, that's why. And I had the way to do that in my hands then. You're not the only one living with regrets here. I haven't had to live in a horror story for years and years, but I've been alone a long time because of something that I did too. It's not anything like what you've lived through, but I know I'm not as strong as you are. I mean inside and outside. I had a love that any woman would want once. A great husband who adored me, anything that I could have dreamed to own, I could have. But I'm a pretty big fool, Ion. I did two things that cost me everything. I would not let a stupid argument go because I had to be right, and at a terrible time I badgered him to push me like the spoiled brat that I acted like. Then I told him that I wanted a divorce, right when he was at his lowest. Right where I'd driven him in stupidity." Helena smiled weakly, "So I got my wish. I threw away a good man and a happy marriage. Today he has a woman and they're doing well, so at least he was able to get past me. I'm ok mostly, but it gets hard to go on in an empty life sometimes. I've met other men, but, ..." she shrugged, "I never blamed my ex-husband. I blamed myself and I've never met somebody who I thought might be the one for me - who could be the one that I needed. I just lost interest in life, mostly." "What stopped you yesterday?" he asked. She hugged him and listened to his heart through her ear against his chest, "I realized that I could really have this island if I wanted it. I knew that I had a great big friend here, though not that he was any more than a huge wolf who seemed to like me a hell of a lot. Those two ideas together made me want to live here. I think I want this place to be my little part of the world. Then I found out about you, and after things made a little sense to me, I knew that you would think about suicide if you found that the gun and the shells were here. Ion, I don't even know where I found the strength to walk out to you, but I didn't want to lose my new friend. Without you, I wouldn't want to be here alone, even though it had been my original idea before I saw you. With you, I can't wait to try to make a new life here. We seem to have something, and I want it to be what saves us - both of us." Just an Old Legend Ch. 07 He was a bit uncertain about some of what he'd heard and asked, "You think that you need me, Elena? What could you need me for?' "We need each other, Ion. Can you give me a good reason why we don't? We have each other as friends. If you don't kill yourself, you need me to help you have some kind of better life. If I don't kill myself, I need you for the same reason, don't I? In me, you have somebody who can accept you like this. Most people would crap themselves to see you. I'm already pretty used to you. Even if you were a regular guy, I'd want to know you better. You're the first man who has ever made me feel this way again. It feels pretty good to me the way that you look at me, and I love holding you." She looked at him, "That was a hint." Ion chuckled as he quickly put his arms around her and she shivered as she felt his breath against her ear and found that she couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her when he kissed the side of her neck. "You are safer now, I guess," he said quietly, "but you never knew the danger of letting me come close with my teeth before." Helen smiled from the pleasant feelings of what he was doing. "Why am I safer now? I just had a thought that maybe I might be in even more danger now from you wanting to bite me." "You are, in a way," he admitted, "I feel that, but I can be happy like this with you, and it is not so important to bite you now." He thought about it, "I do not even know why this is, Elena. I just know it." "I think I might know why," she said, "but you have to promise me that if I tell you, you won't get those feelings about what you think a man and a woman should and shouldn't talk about between them. I told you, things are different now. People should talk between themselves, especially for this, and more especially for us. It saves a lot of mistakes, and I think we've both made our share of those." There was a silence as he kissed her for a minute, "Please tell me then." He saw her smile and then watched as it turned serious, "I meant what I said. You have to promise not to get all weird on me. I'm pretty sure that we're weird enough just as we are, and you need to learn to feel comfortable talking about anything with me." He nodded, "Then I promise." "I thought a lot about you while I was away. I'm a human being. You used to be one, and I believe that you still are someplace in there. But you can be three things, and as I said, there are things that are common between them. What you told me about Danaya gave me a couple of thoughts too. You stop me if you get lost in this, ok?" He nodded, and she continued, "In any creature, there are basic things that are important - food and water, shelter, warmth goes with that for mammals, and the desire to mate. For some animals, that means a steady mate is preferable to raise offspring, for joint protection, and to love. All the forms that you have want this, the wolf, the man, and the one in the middle, correct so far?" "Yes." He nodded again. "So all of them would like a steady mate. You've shown me that you recognize me in any of the forms, so this combination that you are, you see me as your friend, and we probably both see each other as that potential mate." His mouth opened in silence for a moment, "You do?" She ran her hand over his chest lightly, "Yes. If this was a normal meeting of two people here who are friends and hopeful of more, neither of them would talk like this, but I think that we need to be more open because of our differences, like how you were raised the way that you were. I know that Danaya had changed and wanted your babies. You probably didn't want any, if they were going to be like her, right?" "It frightened me," he said. "I don't know what to do about this." "Well, listen carefully," Helen said, "and tell me if what I'll say makes sense to you. That bone that I was talking about this morning, the one that you DON'T have" she pointed and continued before he could blush, "That's important for wolves or dogs. It's to lock them together to assure that the female gets the seed. It wouldn't work on me if you had it - nothing to lock against. I'm not built that way. So you're still a man there, not a wolf. Good so far?" "Yes," he replied with a fair bit of caution. "If this condition of yours could to be spread by having sex, you wouldn't feel the need to bite anyone to put your saliva into their blood. You'd be a serial rapist instead. Last night, I felt you against me a whole lot, so your middle form still has the whole mating thing, I think, even still. And the human form that I'm falling for so hard here, that obviously still has that old mating desire." She chuckled, "And I'm thankful for that. So aside from the way that you seem to deliver your semen, everything kind of tells me that you're human down there. That means a couple of things if we get romantic sometime. For now though, it means one big important thing." He waited as she worked her way out of his arms and stepped to the refrigerator. He thought that he liked what she'd said so far, but was now confused, since she'd walked away. "What is this big important thing?" Finding what she was looking for, she tossed a plastic-wrapped package onto the counter with a flourish, It landed there with a thump. "We're having steak for dinner," she grinned at him. "I am lost now," he said, "What has this got to do with - " "Well, not all that much," Helen laughed, "I just remembered that I bought them for us, and I'd better get started marinating them. These two are huge. I think that I'll only want a little of mine, and you can have the rest, big boy, and tonight, we're not eating dinner off the floor, unless you really like to eat like the wolf, and then you'd better be really careful if I have to hang onto them so you can tear chunks off. You bite my hand even once, and you can go sleep in the barn like you said last night." She walked back to him and pulled his head down to her. After a kiss that left him breathless, she winked, "I'll eat with you any way you want, Ion. As long as you're comfortable, I'm happy. After that, we can talk some more upstairs, ok? Now I need to prepare the marinade, and you need to wash the mushrooms in the fridge for a start." ----------------- Helen had finished her meal a few minutes before Ion, but she covertly watched him eat a little and listened to the crackling of the woodstove. She didn't want him to notice that she observed him. She also didn't want him to stop because of her. Besides admiring him, doing this told her a couple of things about him. Though he had perfect table manners, which was a good thing, she thought, it was obvious that he hadn't used eating utensils for a long time. He looked a little embarrassed as he struggled. She reached her hand across and touched his forearm. "Hey, it's ok, Ion. I just want you to enjoy the meal. That's what's important here. Stop worrying about me. I can see that you're having some trouble getting back to eating this way. I ate all that I can possibly hold. I know that you're a lot bigger and you need more than I do and that takes more time. I'm going to make some tea, so that way you can eat without feeling self-conscious." She stood up and walked to the kitchen, "Hey, when you get a second, tell me if it's enough for you. I don't know how much you normally eat." He paused as he worked on his baked potato, "It is more than enough. I have not had food like this..." He shook his head, "Long time, anyway, and never this good." Helen smiled as she took a load of folded laundry upstairs. Ion had finished by the time that she came back. She reached for the kettle, but he told her that he'd made the tea and invited her to sit. Watching her sip her tea, he leaned forward and she noticed it with raised eyebrows. "You said before that we are friends and I like this. You also said that maybe we could be more, and I think it can be also. But I see now that there is something that is wrong, maybe. It is in your eyes. Tell me, please." He knew that she'd shake her head, and just said, "No," before she'd even gotten started. "You said to me that we must tell everything between us. I see now that there is something and I want to know now." Helen was surprised at his intuitiveness but she was hesitant, "I don't really know how to say it. I was thinking about you and I and then I thought of something that I guess I wanted to forget about," she sighed heavily, "but I can't". He sensed that whatever was bothering her, it was about to cause her to be upset, and now wished that he hadn't brought it up. "Is it trouble for you, or me, or us?" Helen set down her cup and her shoulders slumped, "Probably all three. There's another reason why I guess I never found anyone else. It might not bother some people, but it has always made me feel,... like I wasn't worth the effort." Ion stood up, and his face looked a little unreadable to her as he walked around the table. He said nothing as he walked to the stove and tossed in another log, before stepping quickly to the couch. Before she could ask, he'd moved the cushions to the floor, and stepped back to take their cups away, "Last night, we were here, Elena. We talked plainly, and you said to me that we were two people, and we could just talk. I liked this so much. Please come here. I want to talk like this again." She stood hesitantly and came to him, "I don't know, I - " He held up his hand to stop her, "You helped me then. You helped me last night, this morning, and all day. I think you need help now, maybe. We are still two people, yes or no?" She nodded, "But - " He took her hand, "Then come sit and we talk." He picked her up and the next thing she knew she sat on his lap. He was sitting on a cushion with his arm around her shoulder holding her against his chest. "I don't know how to say it," she began. "Just tell it. If there is trouble, it is better to know." She nodded with some resignation, "When I was married, we wanted to have children." He heard the subtle shift in her voice and put his head over hers and wrapped his free arm around to stroke her head as her tears began. "I was pregnant, and then I got really sick. I almost died and I lost the baby." Ion held her and stroked her gently as she wept. She didn't say anything for a long while, she just cried softly. After a time, she slowly looked up, "I can't have children, Ion. I guess you should know this." Her tears began again, and he kissed her face until she slowed to look at him again. "I understand. You think I will not want you because of this? Maybe you should listen to the words you said to me last night. You said you wanted to know me. You said you accept me. I have been alone so long, and I have such a beautiful girl here now who tells me she loves me. Do you love me, Elena?" Helen sniffled and nodded slowly, "Yes." He held her to him, "I understand why you cry if it is for yourself. Please do not cry for this because of me. I hate it if you cry. I do not want children, Elena. What can I do for my children? Would they be like me? Like you? How can I be a good father like I am? I love you. Maybe we should not be together, but if you want me like this, I want you as you are. This does not make me want you less. If it is big problem for you, I want you as you are - children or not." He sighed with a sudden thought, "Does this make you feel like you are not a woman or something? There is more to a woman that that. Even I know this. Can you take child who needs parents? I do not know this word." She looked up and pulled his head to her, "No, Ion. Stop. I wanted you to know because I just remembered it and I thought it might be important to you. I agree with you, I don't know what we would do with children. But I had this thought, it was more of a daydream, really, that if we could, they'd be great kids. It made me sad and afraid that I didn't tell you. I still feel bad that I lied about the red shells." He smiled, "For me this is a problem only because it makes you cry. Danaya couldn't have children. I was used to this long time ago. I love you for you, not a wish to have children." Their conversation drifted off as they held each other. Over the next hours, the lights were turned off and Helen lit an oil lamp again. There was no argument over who would sleep where this time. It wasn't important. Helen marveled at how gentle Ion could be for such a powerful man. He sensed that it was what she needed then, and did his best to love her in ways that were focused on her. His hands and mouth left her a quivering mess and she finally pushed him onto his back and spent some time with her hands. By then, her efforts were welcomed by him, but after the first spurts, she knew that there were more in the wings based on what had happened that morning. She kept up her motions, but when he neared the second release, she laid her head on him to take him into her mouth and did her best to swallow everything that he produced. By that time, he was too far gone to protest. She was able to get quite a bit more before he softened. They didn't speak for some time. Ion was a bit overwhelmed and surprised by what she'd done for him. He wasn't as surprised as Helen, since it really hadn't been her plan to do that. She'd just gone with what she'd felt was right and it wasn't until now that the thought came to her that she no longer cared about the clinical definition of what she'd swallowed. She loved him and frankly, that was good enough for her now. "Was that alright?" she smiled as he regarded her weakly. He nodded, "I have never felt anything like that." "Then you're welcome," she grinned, "I would have done it the whole way like that, but I didn't want to get a sore jaw and numb lips." Helen had an idea and wondered about it. "Hey, is there a difference inside your head between the shapes?" "Yes," he nodded as he stroked her hair, "As wolf I cannot speak. I can in the middle shape, but I only began two days ago because of trying to say 'soup bones' after I hear you say it. I practice after that. I think clearly in any shape, but best as man, worst as wolf. The wolfman as you say, I think almost the same as like now, but, ..." He thought for a few seconds, "There is more need to act as reflex in wolf, not so much in the middle, but it is still there." "So you're more of a beast when you're not a man?" "Not a lot, but yes," he said, "something like that. Why?" She rose on her arms and moved up a little to straddle him. She moved herself around a little, "I just thought of it," she said with a sigh as she felt him begin to react under her, "I might not always want such tenderness from you every time, that's all. I can see myself wanting this a little bit rougher once in a while, but not too much. Women are strange creatures, Ion. We want to be safe when we love, but we're drawn to a little danger sometimes." Feeling what she wanted now, she adjusted and slid herself slowly down onto him with a groan. She began to rock gently, "I guess I'm asking if it's possible for you to be like that and not lose your mind and bite me." "I think so," he said, pushing his head back with a sigh, "but from behind, you are in the greatest danger. I might want to hold your shoulder and neck with my teeth near the end. I don't know if I could stop myself then." ---------------------- Helen woke to find herself alone on the couch. She didn't think she'd been asleep that long, the way that she felt. The oil lamp had been put out, and the only light in the room came from the half-moon outside. She was about to call out to Ion when she saw the eyes regarding her from beyond the end of the couch. "There you are," she said relieved, "I was beginning to - " She stopped as she noticed the yellow gleam in them and how they seemed to rise up to tower over her. Uncertain now, she reached to pull up the comforter, but he tore it from her grasp to continue staring at her. In the thin moonlight, he looked every bit as large and menacing as he had the night before in the rain. Helen didn't know what to think, and had less of an idea about what to do now. She was about to speak his name, but that turned to a startled scream when his clawed hand clamped around her ankle. She felt herself being dragged slowly to the other end of the couch. She tried to kick at him with her free foot, but cried out as he caught that one too, and kept pulling her toward him. He began to pant heavily as he began to lift her up by the ankles. She fought as hard as she could and managed to break free. Falling in a bit of a heap, she spun instantly to her hands and knees to try to scramble away, but felt his arm slide roughly around her thighs. The other one clamped onto her waist, and she was once again being drawn toward him. She felt such thrills of fear flash up into her chest and grew light-headed with the adrenaline. She began to realize the foolishness of what she'd done to try for his friendship. She was being lifted bottom-first toward those jaws. The worst part was the tickling of his whiskers as he drew her scent to his nose. She felt cool air moving there when he sniffed, but when he exhaled it felt like the hiss of a steam iron to her. For a moment, she thought that she might cry. Helen realized that for perhaps the last time in her life, she'd done the wrong thing again and tried to get her legs together but it wasn't possible with his head there, and anything that she tried in her struggles made no difference to the outcome whatsoever. He could obviously do whatever he liked with her now. His hot tongue lashed out and she gasped. Full of fear now, she didn't want that thrill. But he did it again and grunted. The third time, his tongue penetrated her deeply and she moaned in spite of herself. He did it again, and before she could think, his tongue was everywhere down there, all at once, or close to it. She bucked and groaned, still trying to break free, but he held her fast. She was just a toy now or a late night snack or something, she thought. The sensations began to get to her and she writhed helplessly. Though she wasn't aware of it, Helen cried out every time that his heated tongue penetrated her like a wet and flexible poker. She began to feel like two women, one fighting for her life and the other wanting to struggle backward to feel more of that hot tongue. Helen suddenly thought of where his thighs were, and then had a thought to grab his genitals and hurt him somehow to get him to stop. But she found herself crying out in pleasure when she felt his huge jaws open fully against her. She wasn't a big woman, but she wasn't a tiny thing either, yet his upper canine teeth were pressed lightly into the backside of her hips, and to her amazement, his lower ones touched her far above where the thin stripe of her pubic hair ended below her navel. He was breathing through his mouth from his exertion and lust and to Helen, it felt like heated blasts from a furnace when he exhaled against her most intimate parts. These were the most frightening, terrifying, wonderfully lustful sensations that she'd ever felt, but... His tongue rammed into her again and he flexed it wider while it was deep within her passage. Helen screamed in terror and joy together and she bucked against him in her exertion as she tried to get away and push herself right back onto that tongue all the while. The rest of his teeth felt as though they were all in contact with her flesh - and then he closed them to gently squeeze her over and over as his tongue pressed against her mound. She realized that he might be trying to gnaw on her for her juice as though he were eating a large and juicy peach. Whether she wanted it or not, she knew that she was dripping – or she would have been but his tongue took it away surely as fast as she could produce it. Just an Old Legend Ch. 07 There was a short pause while his tongue licked her as though he was savoring the taste for a moment, but the moment passed as he grunted and sealed his lips to her as best he could to suck noisily several times and she moaned when she felt the tip slide along between her inner and outer lips. Helen felt a loud groan escape her when she felt the pressure of that heated tongue lick her from front to back again and again. She was wet in places where no one had ever thought to explore her body before. She thought it might be a strange last thought to have, but now realized that she was enjoying this. She wondered how long she had left to live now. The beast didn't seem to ever want to stop his assault on her and Helen found her desperation giving way to wanton desire as she bucked and whimpered feebly in his grasp. She hung with her face and forearms on the couch while he did what he wanted to her bottom end. Gradually, she couldn't help herself and she reached for his testicles to caress them gently. There seemed to be a strange association that she wondered about, but when she touched his shaft and heard his deep groan, the first of her orgasms ripped into her. There were others which followed quickly as he sped up his assault even more, but the first was the strongest and she would have hung gasping, but he gave her no rest. She gasped anyway for the oxygen as she quivered. The rest of her orgasms, she just accepted and shuddered as she rode them. He slowly let her down onto her front and she crawled away a little as she listened to his breath. It came to her that she was pleasing him and it gave her a hope that he would stop now, but now it wasn't what she really wanted. She didn't care anymore about anything else. She was what she now wanted to be more than anything. He looked at her wet haunches glistening in the moonlight and then watched spellbound as they began to rise before him, She was looking back at him, and he saw only desire there as she pushed herself back. "Please," she whispered, "Please?" He seized her hips to pull her back the rest of the way and mounted her. She felt his sheath press itself against her clitoris so that she groaned, feeling the sound right through her ribs. To his slight surprise, she cried out in joy and bucked hard against him. He timed his thrusts to match what she wanted. "Please Ion, pull me harder. I love you so much." He told her only once how he loved her and those were the last intelligible words between them for a long while as they grunted and slapped together for long minutes. The way the cushions forced her to kneel, Helen didn't think she could hold herself up like this much longer and was a bit surprised when she felt him pushing her forward. At first she resisted, but his strokes lifted her right off her knees as he slapped against her. She got the message after only a few like this to crawl forward after she realized that if her slammed her hard like this when he really meant it, he'd be hitting her cervix. He got onto the couch himself then and forced her hips down a little and managed to bend and position himself as his clawed hands stroked her softly, though the ribbed pads at the ends of his fingers scratched her slightly if he forgot himself. She felt him pull out only a little from the angle of this position, but it changed nothing of what she felt. It even brought his sheath against her nub even more in a different and very delicious way. As he rutted into her, she felt his hands shift until he held her hip with his left hand and brought his right under her ribs as he leaned to rub and squeeze her nipple. Helen screamed at the feeling which flashed in a heartbeat to her sopping sex, but it was only a gesture in passing. The gesture worked, since she pressed herself back against him to present her opening in the new and better angle. His next motions told her that what he'd done had been calculated to have just this effect. Her breasts were now in solid contact with the material of the couch and his right arm carried through with the motion that he'd intended all along as he reached farther under her in an almost painful, sudden way to amaze Helen when his hand turned palm upward to grip her left shoulder securely from below. She felt him become much more urgent and she mewled her encouragement, though he was beyond listening now. Helen cried out in slightly painful surprise when his head appeared right next to her own and he clamped those jaws onto her shoulder. She could smell herself on the fur of his snout. He grunted and growled with every rapid thrust now and Helen loved it, this show of primal lust. She turned her head to see his left eye regarding her and she hoped that she now wore the wanton and lust-filled expression on her face that she felt. She felt him harden inside her, and knew that it wouldn't last much longer. The thought made her a little sad. She had no idea how long this had gone on for, but she didn't want it to ever stop. "Fuck me, Ion," she whispered in between her tiny gasps, "fuck me, oh, I need this so much." His growls grew more insistent as he held her firmly with his teeth so that she couldn't move or be anything but the vessel for his seed when it came. She felt him harden even more and then he stiffened while she gasped in joy, feeling his contractions. For some reason it was important to her that she could please him when he was like this and she'd done it. When he'd almost stopped, she bucked weakly on, trying to coax more from him, "More," she moaned softly, "I want everything, Ion. Help me, I can't push much more." It really didn't matter. He'd been in total control over her body's position for a long while now. He still guided all of their motions and continued as she did her best to maintain her position. She moaned and begged each time that his contraction began anew. When he felt that he'd given everything, he released her and gently pushed her away while he kept his hands on her hips to guide her down gently onto her side. He climbed onto the couch and stretched out against her back. When she'd gotten some of her breath back, she pressed back to fit herself to him. He told her that he loved her as he held her gently. "I know," she sighed softly, "I really love you Ion. I was so scared at first, but it felt so good after a while, and then I realized that you wouldn't ever hurt me. You didn't bite me, but you held me fast so that I'd get everything. I really loved that," she gasped quietly. "Now I know what I wanted to find out about how you are like this. The problem is that I really liked it." She chuckled quietly, "I've always been really assertive in bed a lot of the time. I guess that I'm warning you by telling you this, but when you did that to me, I just became your happy bitch right then." She reached back to stroke his thigh, "It's kind of a new experience for me." He leaned over her to slowly kiss her, pulling her against himself so that he could wrap her in his arms the way that she liked. She reached to pull his face closer for another kiss, "I'm so in love with my wolf." ----------------------- 3rd level down, A renovated large bomb shelter. Bucharest, Romania. She walked down the corridor in a bit of a foul mood. It was due to a couple of things and one of them was her own approaching heat. Coming into heat could be a wonderful and joyous time to be a female if one had a male to love with. It was a time to just give in to the purest of drives with the perfect male for one's heart, a time to spend in bliss and happy copulation. A time to make whelps. She grimaced. At least that was how she'd heard that it could be. She wouldn't know. In her situation there just couldn't be a more useless function. She knew of many unattached females who looked forward to this time just for the wanton sensuality of carefree and unattached rutting. Once you'd found the one for yourself, then the two of you would set out on a long love together, and forever if it was possible, mating for life in the way of all wolves. But before you'd met the one, well ... Birth control had given she-wolves the same freedom enjoyed by millions of human females, but with the heightened primal drive that powered the she-wolf of today ... She stopped that line of thought right there. All that it had ever done for her was to make her murderous. She hated this when it happened, her body gearing itself up to mate and reproduce. She was sure that during these times, there were suddenly more nerve endings all over her body than there were normally because of the way that little things felt to her then. She became hypersensitive. She remembered eating dinner in her apartment the last time, and reaching out to pick up a letter there on the table. The motion caused her breasts to graze the edge of the table and the sensation had almost driven her mad in a second. She wanted to back away from the edge. She wanted to repeat the motion, hoping to repeat the thrill at the same time. She'd hung her head sadly for a minute, and then she'd gotten up and thrown everything – her dinner, the plate, and even the cutlery into the garbage and done the only thing that she could do. She was in misery and dragged her lustful body to lie in the cold, dry bathtub as a human woman since she couldn't trust herself to keep quiet as what she really was. She was so ashamed at what she did then and wanted no one else in the apartment block to hear any sounds that she might have made as she masturbated quietly, even in her wet heat with tears running the whole time imagining what it might have been like to have the hands of the man that the boy had one day grown into loving her body. It was another thing that she'd never known. When she was finished, she sat up and turned on the shower – full cold – and crawled to her bed to weep. Now? Here? She didn't need the betrayal that her body was playing at. And this, she thought as she turned a corner on her way to her superior's office, this being summoned for a psych evaluation – at a time such as this – by all the saints in Heaven, she thought, somebody just might pay the supreme penalty today and more than one if too many others crossed her path. It irked the hell out of her, and she could barely contain her fury – and she hadn't even arrived yet. The federation now spanned much of the globe with affiliations to many of the most established clans and packs and more were being led to their standard every month. All of that had been born in a lonely forest glade in between two mountains in Transylvania when eleven of them had met almost by accident and begun to talk among themselves about their position and circumstances. The talk had lasted for days, and some broke off to hunt, coming back to lay down the bodies of deer or whatever else they'd found so that everyone could eat and the talk could continue. They were for the most part turned individuals – the lowest form of werewolf, regarded as classless dregs by the snobby and elitist established packs of purebloods. But there was one important difference. Aside from one, they'd all been turned by the same lone werewolf or one of his "descendants", they'd discovered. Whether it was by design or defect, all of them were very powerful, much much more powerful than the turned ones usually are. The reason for that secret hadn't been understood until only recently in their laboratories. But back in the glade, that day, they decided that to survive and – it had been a feint longing then – to prosper, they'd have to make changes. They resolved to act as a proper species, supporting each other and elevating themselves, - actually thinking before they acted - hunting singly or in small groups and then sharing everything, and all the time thinking of ways to do more than suffer the long agony of baseless survival in a land where they were known from the beginning – where men had learned to hunt them down long ago. It had taken decades. But it had become the Kaze – to borrow the Nipponese term for wind. The new wind. Now they had wealth and influential power. They had the wherewithal to fund research, to exploit their abilities for the common good, and as always, to drive the new wind farther and faster every day. Nothing could stop the wind. The goal to survive with dignity had long ago been met. They now had paramilitary capability as well, for one couldn't just hold up one's hand and express a desire to join the federation, though that was often how it began if a solitary individual was located, contacted and shown what was possible for them all. One could join and be welcomed as a brother or a sister, but part and parcel of that was a stint with their own paramilitary forces for evaluation, training and practice, male and female equally. Because along with their ascension and gains had come new threats – and from other werewolves, not from man. She smiled. It was to be expected and it had been planned for in every case. They were rocking the boat on purpose, upsetting the old ways with a vengeance. Many of the wolf-lords with a brain had allied their clans willingly, seeing the advantages. Some had sworn to wipe the Kaze from the earth. Those ones had only set their own packs back on hard times, trying themselves to survive the aftermath. Those ones had died for their haughtiness and the survivors – the ones left behind, and most especially the young and small ones, those had been welcomed and cherished for what they were and most warmly. The federation was just that – an affiliation of groups based on the common good with a central leadership – not the good of the old ways that rewarded only the top echelons by accident of their high births. You proved your worth or you didn't lead. Done. The dream was shifting now. It was only just beginning, but some could even see a day when their kind would not have to live in the shadows and need to remain undetected by humanity. A day was coming when they could emerge and tell mankind that there were new neighbors who wished to coexist peacefully in plain sight. It might require that they have their own homeland. It might require a war. But if it came to that, well, that's what would have to be in order to establish themselves. They were made up of many now. Full-bloods, half-bloods, turned ones, and yes, even some humans, all striving to promote a democratic and equal society for themselves. And all of this had begun one cold and rainy day among the dripping trees of a forest by eleven homeless, wet and bone-chilled individuals. She felt a bit better to think in these terms. She felt herself to be a part of the thing that was the Kaze again. She was one of the negotiators - when she had to be - during the first stages of contact with the other packs and clans as they were approached. The federation always approached openly and was most often rebuffed with sneers the first time. But never the second time. Even so, new affiliates were welcomed and it was always said that they shared the bounty of their feast as equals. It took some getting used to for outsiders. That was one of the reasons that she was often the first and second round negotiator. Because she was good at it. Because she was the best huntress. Because she was one of the eleven. Thinking of it like that, she squared her shoulders and strode forward. She knocked on the door of her old friend and boss and entered at the sound of his welcome. Of the three of them in the room, she alone was in human form because of the time of her cycle. She preferred it this way. Micha sat at his desk with another individual, a youngish pureblood. She had nothing against anyone. Micha's lovely mate Jenna was a pureblood as far as that went. But this one had two things about him that did nothing more than piss her off. He had that thinly veiled sneer of superiority, for one thing. To someone who had often seen those sneers only because she'd had weak and misshapen legs as a child, it was something very difficult to let pass. And he was a psychologist, for another. To her that meant nothing more than a self-serving, smooth-talking parasite who claimed to have a higher purpose – and somehow never did anything like honest work. She stood and suffered through the introductions, and this Stefan started right in on her, questioning her methods and motives and how she'd dealt with one of her last kills and why she'd chosen that route. She drew a breath and sighed. So this was how it was going to be, she thought. Well if there was one thing that she was good at, she smiled to herself, it was ruining someone's perfect day. In the middle of the fifth paragraph from his notes, she's swept everything onto the floor – notes, pen, folders and coffee mug before holding up her hand as she turned to face him. Stefan stopped in mid-sentence, staring. "Shut up, you worthless little fop. You weren't there where I was, faced with the choices that I had before me. You were in your bed," she looked at him a little hard, "getting fucked by your cook boyfriend and dreaming of power when you should have been working as we all must." She really couldn't have cared less about his orientation, but she saw that her words had the desired effect. She watched as he sputtered in indignation. "Shut up now," she said, "or I'll complete your transformation for you with my own hands. Firstly, I am here only because Micha sent for me, and not to meet with you. Secondly, I am deadly serious. I'd kill you only because of my cramps today." Stefan watched in stony silence as she handed over the file that she'd carried here. Micha opened it and began to read. He stopped once to regard her, "You know, your methods and results cannot be questioned," he grumbled quietly with his friendly smile, "But really, sometimes you are far, far past direct with your words." "I know it," she sighed with a shrug, "I'll try to do better." She tried to look at least a little apologetic as she stood with her hands in the pouch of her hooded sweatshirt. "That's one of the things that I was speaking about, "the psychologist began again, "you repress so much from your past, from what I've read, and then you act on it all at once. I believe that it points to very nearly psychopathic tendencies in you." Both of them turned to regard him with disbelief. She hit him four times in the span of a second or so. Her thumb against his throat down low caused his eyes to begin to bulge, and her fist against his sternum caused his knees to buckle. She helped it with her boot against the back of his leg, and he landed on his knees, just beginning to retch. Her extended middle knuckle dinged his temple, and he was on his face, trying not to choke on his vomit. For a pureblood werewolf, it was more than a little humbling. She crouched in front of him. "You were looking at planted tales and stories of my upbringing in those files, Stefan. The truth is much more bleak than anything you've read about me. But in any event, it is none of your business, and, "she smiled, "thank you so much for helping me with your psychology. I have just now successfully repressed the urge to cave in your temple and so I only hit you there lightly enough for this. but the effect of your help is passing even now," she said, feigning a crazed look at his pained face. She stood up and buried her combat boot between his loins with a vengeance. "There," she smiled sweetly, "I know that helped me a lot more than your method." She reached into the pouch and produced the one-shot syringe that she'd carried here, and grabbing the fur on his head, she injected the contents into his neck. Stefan didn't seem to notice. The remains of his breakfast were coming up fast. She looked at her boss, "Sorry for the mess, but another minute of his bullshit and I've have killed him. Our fears have been confirmed, Micha. His way in was Cornelius. Stefan found nothing but what lies we fed him, but it was Cornelius who was his contact here." Just an Old Legend Ch. 07 "Shit!" Micha exclaimed, looking over at her. "You're certain?" She shrugged, "As certain as I am of the cook. I don't care, but I knew that I'd upset him to say it. There are photos of them at the back of that folder." "And the cook?" "One of ours, obviously. I assigned the cook personally to take care of his every desire. Stefan was hopelessly in love inside of half an hour," she chuckled. Micha stepped over and looked at the failed infiltrator. "Where is Cornelius now?" "In the cells below," she said, "being questioned now." "Shit and damn!" Micha roared, kicking Stefan in the face. He picked up his phone and dialed security. Looking up, he said, "You will interrogate this one." Great, she thought, I really need this now. "Look," she said, "I'm just about to start my – heat, Micha. I'm certainly not in the mood for any of this now. I was just about to take a couple of days vacation to go to my old home ..." she looked down and shook her head, "But I know that we need answers." She looked sad and disgusted, "Very soon now there will be only ten of us from the forest." He nodded, "Cornelius was always open to the clans. It is where he came from, banished by his own." Well," she said with regret, "at least the rest of us are all from the same strain. We all think alike. He was always the one who argued every point just to be contrary." ------------------- He woke up nauseous and sore to find himself restrained in an upright position and.... She was holding his penis. "What – what are you – " She didn't look up, "I'm inserting this catheter. You'll be here for a while, and I'm already tired of cleaning up after you. You shouldn't try to fight against the restraints, Stefan, there's silver there, and the latex covering is very thin. If you rip the latex, you'll burn yourself." He cried out as she finished the insertion and pulled her gloves off with a smile. "I hope you're satisfied. I don't know what you thought to accomplish with your pretend evaluation, but you've made a bad day worse for me and I'm going to take it out on you. We'll play a game now. I'll ask you simple questions, and you'll answer them." She turned on the recording equipment and walked away to a chair and a table ten meters away. "I won't tell you anything," he growled at her. "Not at first," she said, seating herself on the chair as she picked up an automatic pistol. She screwed on a suppressor and selected a clip of nine millimeter ammunition. With the pistol loaded, she cocked it and pointed it at him. "What's in the gun, silver bullets?" She rolled her eyes, "Lead." "I'm a full blood," he laughed, "I can't be killed by lead bullets, you stupid bitch." She pulled the trigger and he felt the pain in his chest. The sound of the shot had been more like that of a staple gun. "I know that," she said, "I'm going to shoot you until I feel like beginning the questions. Then you'll answer, or..." she looked away and he followed her line of sight to the shotgun lying on another table, "I'll start shooting larger pieces of you off until you do. I have all day and lots of ammunition. I wanted to be alone today to enjoy a little quiet psychopathic repression, but you chose today, so ..." She shot him in the thigh twice and then emptied the clip into him here and there. "We can start now," she said, as the ejected casings tinkled and rolled along the floor, "Are you really a psychologist? I saw that in the background that I found about you." She ejected the clip and inserted another. He was panting hard from the pain. "Yes," he said. She lowered the gun, "What would it say about me if I told you that what you've just said is making me so very aroused right now?" "It would mean that I was correct about you in my diagnosis and that you seek sexual gratification from your assignments." he groaned. She got off the stool and stepped closer until she held the end of the silencer against the front of his ear, right at the scalp. "Well that would be your interpretation, "she smiled, "It's always about your own little pricks, somehow." He screamed as she pulled the trigger and his ear disappeared. She waited to watch it grow back in most of the way. "If you had any true sense of feeling, you'd know that I'd be lying. I'm not aroused at all. For you?" she spat on him, "What for? I'm just pissed off and crampy." She emptied the rest of the clip into his chest. While he sobbed, she walked back and picking up a glove, she unscrewed the hot silencer and put another one on before changing clips again. "The rubber wipers in these things are only good at quieting them for about a clip." She sipped at her cup of tea. "Feel like talking yet?" The bullets from a couple of her earlier shots clattered to the floor after his body had worked them loose by itself. "You can fuck yourself." She smiled grimly and very carefully shot him in the eye from thirty feet, sipping more of her tea as she waited until it glared back at her once more. "The next one is for the other eye, and after that I'll put a few into your brain through your ears just to stir things up and to make you twitch. If that doesn't get me some answers, and I run out of my thermos of tea, I think that I'll turn that rig that you're fastened to around." She smiled thinly. "I'll fuck you with that shotgun over there, Stefan, and somehow I forgot to bring any lubricating jelly. But I know I'll like it when you come, because the shotgun will sing its own joy right afterward. We can do that again and again. I'll wait for you to regenerate, Stefan. We can play like that all afternoon." "You haven't asked me any questions." She thought that she now detected a fearful quaver in his voice. "Who sent you? I want it all," she said," the family, the individual, the names of all of your handlers, everything." She reached under the table and came back up with a submachine gun. He began to tell her everything. She put on one of the headsets to be certain that it was being recorded and smiled. She was moody and she knew it and why. She was very upset underneath about Cornelius and his attempt to sell them out. But at the least, it had been contained and she was completing even this assignment quickly, not that she'd imagined that someone from as pampered an upbringing as his had undoubtedly been would have lasted long in here. She sighed. Another job well done, she told herself, but for what? Micha and Jenna were so good to her. They sensed her sadness and did their best to include her as often as they could. She loved to come for visits and play the kindly aunt to their many whelps. She made it a point of personal pride to spend time with every one. Jenna often told her mate to be sure that his best huntress could take time for herself whenever she needed to, and sometimes gave her vacation packages as gifts from them both. It was all vey wonderful. But then she was faced with the cold and empty reality of her life once more – the busy and occasionally very deadly ghost. ----------------------- 7:44AM Local time 30,000 Islands Georgian Bay, Ontario Canada She awoke alone again, but smiled and stretched with a sigh as she smelled the bacon as Ion worked on breakfast. A quick trip to the bathroom, and Helen just followed her nose down the stairs. Ion smiled at her and reached to set a cup of coffee on the table for her. He grinned and said that she must really be hungry to come downstairs without a thing on. "I am," she grinned, as she entertained thoughts of tearing his clothes off. It was a pleasant enough daydream, but she knew that she was overlooking something and said so as she sipped and tried to concentrate. "I think it is the day that you wanted to talk to the fat man about buying the island," he smiled. Her eyes flew open, and she twisted to see the clock, but then she relaxed, "I still have time, but not too much. Thanks, Ion." He set her plate before her, "Elena, what will happen if you cannot buy it?" She hadn't really thought of the possibility of failure and shrugged, "Then I'll keep renting it for a while, and then I guess we have to think of something else, Ion. We'd need a bit of time, but if you can leave the island, we'll think of something. I won't leave you behind. Unless you tell me different or we start to hate each other or something, we're together. The place doesn't matter to me if I have you in my life, though I really want to stay here now." He nodded with a smile, "I wanted to hear that very much. Thank you." "What will you do while I'm in town today?" He shrugged, "I will do anything that you want me to do. I even have ideas for something that I want to do for you. Maybe I will plan that while I wait. I do not think that I want to start anything until I know if you are, ..." he searched for the word, "successful." Ion grinned that he'd come up with the right word, "You see? My English gets better because of you, Elena." As Helen approached the island, she began to look for him and wondered where he might be. Tying up the boat, she climbed the stairs and looked around. Still no sign of him. She sighed, and turned around to look at the thin horizon. She began to think about it and gave a thought to painting a scene of her view from here. She felt him press against her side and looked to see him sit to regard her quizzically. Helen sank down to sit on the rocky ground next to him. The yellow eyes were much the same. Now she thought that she had something of a key to unlock what they said to her. She realized that she hadn't had this earlier, and that there was a lot more information there than she'd ever given him credit for. She put her arm around him and smirked at how comical it might look to an observer. "Stan Beamish and I argued back and forth a long time, Buddy." She had wanted to correct herself, but he didn't seem to mind it when she called him that, he just listened to her. "After that, I went to see a real estate lawyer. I'll know in a day or so, but it looks like we have a home here. I signed a conditional agreement, and if everything works out, the deal closes in a week. The irony of it kind of kills me, but you'll have the home here with me that you built yourself. I'll need a bigger boat, and I'll move my art stuff here after that." She leaned against him, burying her face in his fur, inhaling his wonderful scent. She looked up into his eyes again, "Did I do the right thing? Will you be happy here with me?" She found her view of the world tilting and then he was playing the biggest fool dog that she could ever imagine as he licked her face and any exposed skin that he could find. She was helpless against him and laughed until she cried. When she'd caught her breath, she looked at him in front of her there with his head on the ground between his great paws. She moved toward him slowly and he watched her come to him. He was mesmerized, taking in all of the details and finding many more to see. He could barely wag his tail. Her face came down to his and she kissed his snout softly, "I don't even know if you can do it, Ion, but could we go to the cove? I think I'd really like it if you could try to make love to me as gently as you can in the sunshine there as we finished up last night. I was in heaven, but I'm a bit stiff today. Even so, I'd want the wolfman now if you can do that. If you can't, then I'd prefer the man then, if I get a say. For today, I'd really love to be with you and feel fur while we do it." ---------------------------- They made gentle love on the wet sand of the cove and Helen finally knew what Danaya had meant about crying her happy tears when he'd loved her. In the quiet afterglow, Ion began to spend a lot of time kissing her breasts. Helen had always found her nipples to be incredibly sensitive after a solid orgasm, but Ion amazed her with the way that he had of nuzzling there so softly that she was learning to just allow him this and enjoy it as she caressed his head. But it did give her questions. She thought to ask as she stroked his hair. She didn't necessarily want him to stop, but what she wanted to ask had come to her mind a few times before, and it had then been chased from her mind just as quickly every time by circumstances. "Ion? I wanted to ask you something." "Hmm?" She had to give him credit, she thought with a soft smile, he did manage to sound at least a little intelligent as he kept on. "When Danaya was a woman, after she'd been bitten, her breasts were the same as before, right?" He slowed in his attentions just a little as he replied, "Mm-hmm." She drifted in the pleasant sensations for a minute, but Helen did manage to come back to what was on her mind. "When she was a wolf, she was like any other female canine, right? I mean, she was like any female dog or wolf who wasn't nursing whelps at the time, right?" "Mm-hmm," came the reply. Helen thought for a minute, "So when she was a wolf, she had eight nipples?" He slowed for a second as he cast his mind back, but then answered with a decisive, "Mm-hmm." He wasn't as single-minded as he let on to be. He was thinking about it, though Helen didn't notice. There was a long pause as she thought. She was caught up in what he was doing, but at last, she just had to know. "When she was in her middle form, the wolf-girl, how many -" He lifted his lips, "Eight." She froze, "Eight?" Ion looked up to regard her, "Eight, yes. Why do you ask?" "Well nothing," she fibbed a little self-consciously, "I was just trying to imagine what that looked like, that's all." At that instant, he had just begun to kiss a nipple again, but now looked up at her and began to chuckle. "This was a time before cameras like today. We were too poor to have one anyway, but now I am a little sorry that I have no pictures to show you of this." She began to feel a bit embarrassed that she'd asked him, and would have tried to dodge and hedge until she could turn the conversation in another direction. Ion knew this instinctively, and wanted now to playfully keep her from managing to do it. He moved up and her thighs parted due to the slight increase in his weight on them. He used it to his advantage and slid inside her again. Helen wrapped her legs around him as he began to thrust so slowly that she could only sigh and go with what he was doing. "Try to picture this in your mind," he said quietly. "As a wolf, you are right, she had eight nipples. As a woman, she had two breasts, like before. The middle-form is always in between, with things from the others - the same as it is with me. In the wolf-girl form, she had eight breasts, but the top pair were just as before, the next were much smaller, and the next even smaller, and so on. The bottom ones were little bumps with nipples. I cannot say for certain, but I think that if she had gotten pregnant and given birth, then they would all swell with milk to the same size - I think, but I don't know this. It sounds very strange, but it fit somehow, and didn't look out of place at all." He groaned, but then continued, "It only looked a little strange if she was wet from a bath, if she changed then to that form. Remember that she had fur just like the fur that I have then. It suited her, you can trust me. You like my chest then. You said the fur is not too much to see what you would like. She was mad near the end, but though you are so beautiful, she was beautiful too, only completely different. As the wolf-girl she was still lovely to me and very wild. The fur hid the breasts just enough, the top ones were as easy to see as my muscles there that you love." Helen struggled with the mental image that played in her mind. It was much more difficult to hold the picture in her head since they were copulating again, but she heard Ion quietly mutter something after a minute. "Pardon?" she asked. He wanted to do this a bit faster now, and was a little distracted himself. Still, he mentally shrugged to himself. One of the things that he loved most about her was the way that they could talk quietly about things as they did this. It seemed that if one or the other grew insistent, they'd save the rest of the talk for later and just settle to it. He looked at her lovely eyes and tried to concentrate on the talk. "I said, it was still such a waste." Helen was a little sorry now that she'd brought it up. "I'm very sorry for bringing back memories, Ion." She didn't say it, but for that instant, she felt a little like the second choice, even though that had never happened. What she hadn't reckoned on, was his growing ability to sense the feelings of the one that he now loved so. She had also not reckoned on his mischievous streak. He raised his head, and Helen felt instantly better for the love that she saw in his eyes. There was no mistaking that. "Do not ever feel that you would compare badly to her. She was very beautiful and you are just as beautiful and even more, but completely different. As a man, I can say that you are easier to love. You are more womanly where her beauty was like a young girl who never grew up as you did. I can love you as you want me to. I could never let myself go with her, she was too small and frail. It was her greatest sadness, and I could never get her to let go of it." He shook his head, "The past cannot be changed, Elena. Thank you for your kind words, but that was not what I meant here." She was now confused, "Then what did you mean, Ion?" He sighed with a smiling shrug, "A waste. Eight breasts, and still I have only two hands and one mouth." Helen stared and then they smiled at each other for the briefest of instants. And then Helen began to laugh. Though Ion loved her flat stomach, it hid well-developed abdominal muscles. He groaned in discomfort as her laughter ejected him forcibly. Ion made a mental note not to joke with her too much when they coupled. A sudden thought of what could happen if she sneezed during coitus scared the hell out of him. "I wanted to say something to you about my middle-form, Elena. I think you are right about my seed. But after you said what you thought, I felt carefully in a private minute. You were wrong about something. You said that dogs and wolves have a small bone." She nodded, remembering the conversation, "What was I wrong about, honey?" He smiled as he began to shift, "I have that small bone there in this shape. Can you feel it?" This was the first time that he'd taken her face to face as the wolf- man. She did indeed now feel the slight ridge that the bone created during his erection as he began to thrust harder. It hadn't been there when he was the man, she was sure of it. She clung to him as she bucked and cried out in joy. Her considered opinion was that she loved it. ---------------- Though the weather had gotten very warm again, the warm front had brought humidity with it and by the evening, the rain had begun. Ion was preparing dinner because he'd said that he wanted to. Helen was happy to let him, but hung around in case he had trouble finding anything. She sat sipping coffee and thinking as she leafed through a book that she'd bought in town that day. At length, she stood up to get the piles of old letters. Dinner was a bit worrisome for him, but Ion was relieved when Helen pronounced it delicious. "I cooked only to feed myself when I was alone here," he said a bit apologetically, "it was never meant to be more than that. I am happy that you like it." Helen shook her head, "No, this is great. I know it's just a regular goulash to you, but it's something that I probably couldn't get in a fine restaurant without a lot of looking to find the right place - and that's if I even could. Don't worry yourself over it. I'm happy with it, believe me." Just an Old Legend Ch. 07 He asked about the letters and she smiled, pointing at them and the book, "These are your after-dinner assignment. I'm going to transcribe all of them. But I'd have a lot of trouble finding a translator for the ones that Beamish didn't know about. Fortunately, I just happen to have a Romanian translator handy, since I sleep with him. I'd like for you to read them to me in English while I type them into my laptop. I know that you'll probably be a little embarrassed over some of the more personal parts, but with them and this book, I have a little bit of a plan." Ion looked at the book. It was a collection of ghost and spooky mystery stories from the local area. He looked a bit puzzled. "I know that you must see some string here that ties our old letters to the book, but it is still invisible to me, Elena." "Well, that night in the storm, you might not have taken me seriously, but I promised to help you with your life," She looked over at him, "And I meant it very much. I have the beginnings of a plan to do that. Stan Beamish wrote that book. He knows mostly all of everything that's ever gone on around this area. He's an amateur historian and a bit of a writer. He knows a lot about the story of what happened on this island, but he doesn't know all of it. He had the letters translated to use in this book, I think, but he didn't have enough to go ahead with it. He's given up, I'd say. That's why he gave me the letters in the first place." She reached across the table to touch his hand, "You might not want a lot of it to become public knowledge, but we can work on that. From talking with him, I think I know a couple of things about him. He is not a superstitious man, but I'm pretty sure that he knows there's something on this island. He keeps asking me if I've seen anything odd here. Now there's no statute of limitations on the crime of murder, but the prime suspect has never been found, has he? And even though we both know that he's still alive, the possibility that it could have been you is ridiculous in the eyes of the law. There is no provision to prosecute a werewolf since there is no accepted proof that werewolves exist outside of legends and horror films, and as a man you're plainly too young to have even been alive then, never mind commit the crime." "Another thing about Stan is that I almost believe that we can trust him. Remember that he gave me that old gun of yours. Since it's been sawn off, it's an illegal weapon here. What he should have done the moment that he found where it was hidden was to call the police, but he didn't, for fear that it would cause all kinds of unwanted attention. He told me that he had enough trouble renting the island. He didn't want the only renters that come here to be kooks and nuts. At the very least, the local newspaper would have had a field day with the story. By not calling the police and giving it to me, we're guilty of firearms offenses and he knows it, but he wanted me to have the gun for my personal protection against whatever he is afraid of on the island. If he thought that all that I was in danger of might be a bear or two, I'm pretty sure that after asking me if I was familiar with firearms, he'd have just suggested strongly to me that I buy myself a gun. But he didn't do that. He knows what's in the red-tipped shells. He knows what somebody might need to use silver slugs against." She scooted down in the chair for a second to dig into the pocket of her jeans. Coming back up with a fistful of change, she sorted through it and smiled. She placed two dimes on the table. "These two coins are different ages, though the pictures on them have stayed pretty much the same except for a detail or two. See the boat? That's the Bluenose. It was a pretty important schooner way back when in Maritime Canada. The dime on the left was minted in 1996. The other one was minted in 1963. See the difference in the metal?" He looked, and saw that the newer one had more of a shine to it, a very slightly blue shine, whereas the other one was duller, and it was more neutral. "The newer one is made of nickel. I'd almost bet money that you don't want to even touch the coin on the right," she smiled at him. He nodded, "Yes, it has silver in it. Not much, but some." "Uh-huh," Helen said, "Silver was used in some coins here until they stopped that because of the cost." She picked up the coins and placed them into her watch pocket of her jeans, and then began sorting the letters in order of their dates. Almost a later, Stan Beamish walked into his office as the phone on his desk rang. "Beamish Realty, Stan Beamish speaking," he said as he set down his paper cup of store-bought coffee and spread out the thin morning paper on the desk in front of him with one hand. "Good morning, Stan, this is Helen Patterson calling. I wanted to know if you'd heard whether the deal on the island closed yesterday." The old realtor smiled, "Yes it did, Helen. I got word late yesterday afternoon that it went through without a hitch. I'd planned to do the happy real estate broker thing and stop by with a bottle of the cheap wine that I usually drop off, but for you, I wanted something better, and I'd also planned to give you a call beforehand. I'd hate to go all the way out there to find that you were out for the day or something. Congratulations, by the way." Her soft laughter came down the line, "Thank you. You know, I have to confess that I did plan to whine in a joking way that for what I paid, I ought to at least get that cheap wine, but that's only one reason that I'm calling. I'd be happy if you could see your way to coming out today if you could. Listen Stan, are you alone?" "Half a second," he replied as he got up to close the door to his office. Coming back to sit down, he picked up the receiver again, "I am now, what's up, Helen?" "Remember when you told me that you had originally wanted to know more of the island's story? I mean more than you'd been able to dig up?" "Yes," he said, his interest beginning to rise, "Have you found anything more out about it?" "You might say that I now have enough to call my favorite realtor and historian over and not be afraid of wasting his time. When can you come out?" "I can be there in maybe an hour," he said, "I don't have a whole lot going on today. I'll just wait for the liquor store to open up, and I'll head out." "Can you bring what you have in terms of research material on the story? I'd love to borrow it if I could for a little while." "I'll do better than that, Helen. I'll make photocopies for you. I'll see you soon." Just an Old Legend Ch. 08 Stan Beamish huffed his way up the steps from the dock, and wondered about the pile of sawn lumber that he saw under a tarpaulin. It had been carefully and neatly stacked. He shrugged and carried on. It was when he got near the house that he stopped again. The scrub and tangled bramble were gone, and the earth that it had covered was freshly turned and he could see bags of peat moss off to the side, ready for the next section to be dug. The mess which had once been the way to the house was in the process of being turned into rock gardens of considerable size. The man doing the work was bent over in work pants and a T-shirt, but before Stan could say a word to him, the gardener was gone around the corner of the house with a wheelbarrow. Stan walked up the steps and Helen met him at the door with a grin, "Stan! Come on in. Don't worry about tracking dirt in, I never let the broom get far from my hand today." Beamish sat at the table where she'd indicated, and he offered Helen the bottle of Merlot that he'd picked up. She took it happily and put it in the refrigerator. "I must say that you're not wasting any time in getting the beautification program underway. Those rock gardens will be pretty big, I can see. Who's doing the work for you? I know most of the landscapers around, but obviously not all of their workers. I can't say as I've seen that fellow before. Come to think of it," he said, "I didn't see another boat tied up at your dock." Helen set a coffee mug in front of Stan and sat down opposite to him, "That's my boyfriend," she smiled, "Once he gets something into his head, he's off and running. How long do you think it would have taken to clear the weeds that were there and turn all of that soil? He ripped out the mess yesterday afternoon, and did everything that you see in the last three hours. He hasn't stopped, except to pee, I guess." Stan stared out the window, watching Ion work. As he turned back, he was about to ask if she'd met him in town or knew him from the city, but he found himself looking at a copy of his book. Helen smiled warmly, "I picked this up last week. I've got to say that I really enjoyed it. You've done a wonderful job and I found that when I was done, I wanted so much to read more. It gave me an idea," she said, pushing a small stack of books over to him, "These are mine. I was wondering if you'd like to collaborate on a book with me." Stan looked at the author's name and then back at Helen blankly, "My wife loves this writer, but, ..." Helen's smile grew wider, "Well now you can tell her that you know the writer. It's a pen name, Stan. Check the photo and the bio in the back of them. He did and set the books down in wonder, "Well, that's you in the photos, for sure. I'd have never guessed, Helen. How many have you written?" "Just those three. There are two more, but not under that name," she said. Pointing at his book on the table, she said, "This isn't a criticism in any way, but though you write superbly, the subject matter and the area have a limited appeal to mostly people around here. I think you might have done it that way on purpose, right?" Yes," he nodded, "I wanted to document some of the area's quirky history, and doing it that way seemed the best way to get a few sales as well as maybe educate some folks around here that the area does have a rich history, if only they'd take the time to look. Also, I didn't want that history to grow moldier and even more forgotten. You're right, though, sales from that book have mostly been through strictly local vendors, touristy places around here and such." Helen leaned forward, "Let me tell you what I have in mind, Stan. I was thinking that if you and I worked together on something of a historical romance - the tragedy of this island, set to the way these tales sell as fantasy romances, such as I write, I think we could both pull off one hell of a hit. There is another benefit to you in this. I'm not huge by any means, but I am already fairly widely published, and I can't see how a working association with me could do anything but help your reputation as a writer as well as obviously bring you to the attention of my publisher. I was thinking of an even split on the royalties." The realtor was grinning, "I'm all ears, Helen. What have you got?" She stood up, "For that, I can see that we'll need refills on our coffee." As they went through what he'd brought, Ion finished up and walked up to the house. Stan watched idly as Ion turned on the hose and took off his shirt. He was a bit sideways to Stan's point of view, but Stan marveled at the man's physique. "He's washing under the hose, Helen. That water is pumped right out of the lake, and he doesn't look like he minds the coldness a bit. I'd already be blue trying to get done as fast as I could. Better yet, I'd be using the shower. I wouldn't be using the hose at all." She smiled, "He doesn't mind it. He's used to hard work. That's the way that he likes it. He doesn't care what kind of work a man does, as long as it's honest, and that there's a component of real physical work at least some of the time. He says that without that a man slowly stops being a man. Like he'd respect you for how you like to tromp around and gather history in addition to your real occupation. That's just his way. If he ran Microsoft, he'd still be wanting to do hard work sometime." She chuckled, "A hot shower to him is something to scrub out any stubborn dirt with soap and then relax under." "Anyway," Helen said, to pull Stan's attention away from Ion for the moment, "Your research here is after the fact - after the murder was committed and the investigation had long gone cold. What if I could offer you the view before the fact, the things and scenes that led up to it? What if I could give you cause to doubt the foregone conclusion of the investigators?" Stan smiled, "Where does the fantasy in this begin, or has it already begun, Helen?" Helen shrugged, "Do you know the identity of the victim other than a name you found in the letters? By the way, there are a lot more letters than what you knew about, and I have translated transcripts. I have both sides of the conversation. The investigators were such idiots that all they had was a well-burned female body with some anomalies which they couldn't explain. No proper autopsy was ever done. They didn't even know who she was." Helen continued, "They didn't bother to try hard to find out. Remember that this was a very different place then and they had their own prejudices. To them, it was just one dumb immigrant killing somebody that they figured had to be another immigrant, since there was nobody missing from around here at the time. They were only in it for something to break up the boredom and hey, they got to investigate a real murder for once." Stan was a little doubtful, "And I suppose that you do know her identity?" Helen smiled, "As you already knew, her name was Danaya Sorescu. At the time of her death, she was twenty-five years and six days old, and was a recent immigrant here from Romania - specifically, the part of Romania once known as Transylvania. I have the name of the place where she was born. It's in the middle of the Carpathian Mountains, but neither of us could pronounce it, trust me. There were no photographs taken here from before her death, and the ones after don't tell you that she was petite and a very light blonde with light blue eyes. There is only one small black and white photograph of her taken for her passport. It obviously doesn't show her eye color, but I know that too. I have her passport and immigration papers. I even know that her people were from the German-speaking minority in that part of the world where her husband was not. They could converse in Romanian between them, and it was the only language that he knew before he picked up English when he was here alone before she came three years after him." Stan's jaw fell open, "How did you find that out?" "I'll tell you in a few minutes," Helen smiled, "but I've got more to show you," she said as she reached for her point and shoot camera. Turning it on, she began to step through the photos on the memory card as she continued, "You know how you're always asking me if I've seen anything odd or unusual? Ah, here he is." She turned the screen of the camera to face the older man, "I think this guy is an old almost-acquaintance of yours." He put on his glasses, and then almost fell over as he stared at the image there. "That's him," he blurted, "That's what I thought I saw from the boat the day that I was sure that I was being chased." He looked at the datestamp there on the little screen. "This - this was taken yesterday! How did you get this?" Helen laughed softly, "I asked him to hold still while I took it," she took the camera back and deleted the image. "Don't worry about this shot. I can always get more, and I only took it so that you'd see that what you were always wondering about was really here. And don't worry, I'm not in any danger here, and neither are you. I met him on the third day. He actually ran off a bear that was getting too close to me for his liking. Of course he didn't look like that at the time." Beamish was so completely amazed that he hadn't heard the door close. He looked at Helen's boyfriend as he walked over with a thin smile. "I'm sorry sir," Stan said, a little taken aback by the eyes that regarded him, He stood up a little awkwardly, "I'm - " He felt his hand being grasped in a warm, friendly handshake, "Please forgive my interrupting you this way. You are Stan Beamish. Elena has told me about you. You and I have almost met many times, but this is the first time that I have the pleasure of really meeting you." He held on to Stan's hand for just a split-second longer, "I am Ion Sorescu. Danaya was my wife. I am the one who killed her, and now I would like very much to tell you of this if you have the time to hear it." Stan Beamish shook his head in a friendly doubtful way, "But you can't be the murderer." "I can understand your ..." Ion looked at Helen. "Doubts, Ion" "Thank you," he smiled self-consciously, "I am here over seventy years, but I still fight with English every day. I can understand your doubts, Stan. Let me explain this, please. Did you know that I wrote a letter that day?" Beamish nodded, "The alleged murderer wrote a confession, saying something about the woman being a werewolf, and that he had been bitten himself and had to kill her. I have a copy of that letter that I got from the archives, but..." "You found my gun many years ago. You used one shot on a tree outside. I was there that day, and I almost caught you as you ran to the dock. I could have caught you easily, but I did not want to hurt you. I only wanted the gun - to kill myself." He smiled, and shrugged, "I was very angry with you for this, because it was the only way for me to do it." Stan was shaking his head, "This is ridiculous. That was almost forty years ago. How can you look like that if you were there?" Ion turned to Helen, "I told you that he would never believe me." He excused himself and turned away to make himself a cup of coffee. Helen tried a different angle, "Stan, you've been telling me from day one to keep an eye open for anything unusual. Yes or no?" "Yes," he nodded, feeling foolish now for having done it. "And you tried the gun on the tree. Why would anyone use silver slugs? What would you hunt with silver slugs?" "Come on," Beamish said in a slightly derisive tone, "The slugs were hand-loaded by a sadly deranged individual many years ago who disappeared without a trace. Now you want me to believe that this man is him?" "Answer my question, Stan. What could silver slugs be deadly against that any other projectile would not be?" He shook his head, "Next you'll tell me that this guy can be repulsed by garlic too." Ion laughed, "Sorry, but I am from Romania. You cannot be Romanian or even Eastern European and hate garlic, we cook so many things with it. And it is not true that I disappeared. I never left this island." "Ok," Helen said, "let's go with the old wives' tales then. What is a silver bullet used to hunt for?" He drew a deep breath, almost out of patience now, and trying to think of a way to get away from these wing nuts, "Legend has it that you can kill a werewolf with a silver stake through the heart. I suppose that if you had silver bullets, you might kill one - if there were such a thing - with a shot through the heart." Helen pulled out the dimes, "Hold these in your hand for a second Stan. Come on, just humor me." He did as he was told, "So?" She waved Ion over, "Hold out your hand, Ion." To Stan, she said, "Please don't take your eyes off his palm when he opens it. Now please place the coins side by side on Ion's palm." "Oh for Pete's sake, Helen. All right, I'll do it, and then I'm leaving. I've had enough of this." He laid the coins on the outstretched palm. One of them laid there quietly, and the other caused Ion to grimace and the skin that was in contact with the coin to begin to smoke and hiss. Ion reached out with his free hand and grabbed Stan's wrist, "Tell me if the coin feels hot." Before Beamish could object, the dimes were in his own hand. They felt like they'd both just been held in someone's hand, neither of them was hot. He looked over at the blackened circular outline where the one coin had been. "Keep watching that spot, Stan." Helen said. Before his eyes, the obviously burned skin healed in seconds. He looked up, "I don't get it. What did I just see there?" She pointed to the coins, "Check the dates. One of them is silver. Before you try to explain it away as an allergy..." He was flummoxed, "I don't... wait a minute, if you're the murderer, how could you have made the slugs?' There was no humor in Ion's sad smile, "I make them before I was bitten. I could not make them now. I am not trying to fool you somehow. I came here to build a farm. Danaya waited for me to have enough money so that she could come here. But before she came to me, she was bitten and became werewolf. She killed my cows and my horse. I made slugs for shotgun. I cut shotgun short so I could keep it near me. I had to stop her before the water froze. If she could get to the town, many would die. Danaya bit me, and I shot her." He lifted the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, indicating the scar on his chest, "I cannot be hurt by anything but silver. Please do not move from there, only watch please." He hurried to the sink only twelve feet away and repeated what he'd shown to Helen using the knife on his forearm. Beamish stared as the deep cut healed and was about to shake his head, but Ion held up his hand, "If you still do not believe me, I can show you more." Beamish sat still, not knowing what to think. "Wait," Ion said, "you must understand this before I begin. I do not want to harm anybody. Not you, not Elena, nobody. And I never wanted this," he indicated the ragged scar. He quickly pulled off his workpants and before Stan Beamish could react, he began to shift. He stood up as what Stan had thought he'd seen long ago, and then shifted further to stand on all fours - the largest wolf that could plainly never exist. Beamish had turned white, and looked at Helen. "Well, you weren't getting it, were you? If you haven't crapped yourself yet, Stan, just watch his eyes as he changes back. You'll see that you're looking at the same individual the whole time." Stan looked at the wolf again, and just as she'd said, those eyes remained constant though everything else changed around them - lashes, eye sockets, skull, teeth, fur, everything. Finally, Ion pulled his pants back on with some shy embarrassment, "I am very sorry to show you like this, but you didn't believe me, and the pants are new." He looked at the realtor, "Please, I would like now to sit down at the table and tell you what happened, but I think that you still do not want to hear." "You're wrong, um, what is your name?" "Call him John if it makes it any easier," Helen said, "That's what the name means here." Stan looked at Helen questioningly, "Has he bitten you or anything?" Helen shook her head, "No, and I'm not about to lift up my shirt to show you, either. I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't even if I wanted him to, seeing as how that started all of this in the first place to his eyes." "John," Beamish began, "I still can't get over what I've just seen and I doubt anybody would. You can sit down, but please, just move slowly. I've got a heart condition. Before you begin, I would like to know if, ..." he opened his shirt and pulled out a small crucifix on a chain, "does this bother you here?" Ion looked down and shook his head with a sad smile, "The only thing that bothers me a little is the lie of it. What it stands for, ... I no longer believe. As a boy I was raised and taught to believe, and I never did anything bad to anyone. How can such a thing happen to Danaya and me? Why was it allowed to happen? Danaya always wore cross and she was bitten. I had a cross a little bigger around my neck too that day and still she bit me. We were only two poor people. Even after she was bitten, Danaya was good person, but she became crazy because I did not want to let her bite me. I was crazy too for a little while after that, but I became myself again." He looked at Beamish, "I do not want to hurt anyone unless they try to kill me - because it does not kill me, but it hurts for a while. I know what you will ask, and you can ask me anything. I do not want to bite Elena or anyone. I wanted only to kill myself for many years, but you took the gun and the slugs and so I could not. I could not even hurt you to get the gun. I have been in my prison here alone longer than Elena says that murderers must stay in prison. Now Elena loves me, and I don't want to kill myself anymore." He looked up, "Elena gives me hope for myself. Even before I meet her, I wanted to protect her. I would do anything for her." He looked at Helen with a soft smile, "Even tell my life to you if you want to know what happened on this island." Stan Beamish looked into the yellow eyes in front of him. He thought about it and concluded that he couldn't possibly have been misled in everything that had been presented to him here. He also sensed that this strange man was being honest with him. "John," he said, "forgive me if this does not come across well to you, but what are you now? I've seen that you can change your shape, but which of them is you?" Ion shrugged, "Truly, I do not know. What I knew of the stories that I had heard, ... I could not believe what Danaya told me was right, that we could go on together if she bit me. That everything would be alright. I could not accept this at all. I thought she must be some terrible creature, but really she was a powerful creature who was losing her mind. Afterward, after I knew that I was still myself somehow, I knew that she was right, but, ... for her, this caused madness. She wanted to hunt people. For me, it was not like this. After the crazy beginning, I hid myself and hunted mice and anything that I could catch." He looked at Stan, "I think that you want to decide if I am evil, no?" He leaned forward slowly, "Am I evil because of what I am, or am I evil for what I do? None of us can change what we are, not you, or Elena, and not me. I can only change how I look. But we can change what we do. I want to harm nobody. Does that make me evil or good? I cannot answer this. I only try to live my life the way that I know is the right way - to hurt no one. This has not changed from before. I think that I am guilty of killing Danaya, but I still know that it was the right thing. I loved her, but I could not let her hunt. That would be evil, I think, to allow that. I sometimes think that I have suffered because I killed her, but I do not know that it is so." Just an Old Legend Ch. 08 "Maybe this will be funny idea to you, but for many years, I prayed to God for help and answers. I stopped asking for answers. I prayed that I could be dead. I was taught that it is wrong to kill yourself. I didn't know what to do. When I decided, you took the gun away. And still I prayed." He stopped to sip his coffee, "I heard only the pain in my voice and the wind. I felt no love that God has for his creatures. I felt only rain and snow, maybe because I am not God's creature anymore. I am only my own. I save my breath now and do not ask God for anything anymore. He has gone away, or he has no time to hear me." Ion smiled, "And anyway, if I am evil, what kind of hell can he send me to that is worse than the one where I have been for over seventy years? Hot and tormented by insects in the summer and I had to see people like I once was laughing together. Cold and with no clothes in the winter, only the fur that I have when I change, and always alone and cursing the day that I thought of coming here to make a better life. What life have I had? Now I have to wonder if God answered me when Elena came to my prison. I do not know this either, but I know that I am happy every day since she came." He looked again at where Stan's crucifix lay hidden under his shirt, "Believe what you want to, Mr. Beamish. I think if I was really evil, I might bite you to show you how little that thing is worth when you really need it. But that would be cruel, I think you say. And anyway, if you lived through the change, you would only hate me for it. I have had enough trouble in my life. So, you should decide now, please. If you want to hear my story and write a book with my beautiful Elena, I will tell you anything that I can answer. If not, please excuse me. I have work to do for her." Stan looked at Ion, "Are you angry with me for taking the gun when you needed it?" Ion smiled genuinely and shook his head, "This was not your fault. You didn't know any of this. How could I be angry? I was only angry that it was gone then. I think that maybe I am not so evil because I didn't think it was right to hurt you to get the gun and so I let you go that day. And now it was you who brought Elena to me. I cannot be angry now, can I? I should be thanking you, I think." Beamish smiled at them both, "Well, either this is one hell of a hoax, or it's a real fairy tale come true. I sure as hell don't know what to think. But I do think you're both quite remarkable. I'd be happy to work with you on this, Helen, as long as it won't open up a long-dead murder case. John, please start at the top, wherever you want to begin." He pulled a notepad out of his battered old briefcase and rolled up his sleeves. --------------------------------- Stan held up his hand, "No, Helen. I'm about as full of coffee now as my stomach, bladder, and blood pressure will allow. Thanks but no more," he smiled. Turning back to Ion he said, "There are a few things about the whole werewolf thing that bother me in a few ways. I'm trying to understand, I guess. How is it that you can change at will? Are you in control of this at all times?" Ion smiled, "Please remember that I had no teacher for this, but I can tell about what I know. When I first changed, it felt to me like my body was on fire, so much pain. And then the things about my body began to change." He looked at Helen, "Can you help to explain it, please?" She looked like an impatient schoolteacher, "You should really explain it, because you need to work your English if you want to get better, but ok, jump in if I get anything wrong then." She looked at Stan, "His English is getting so much better, but sometimes he still has trouble with finer details, and the level of his mastery changes, depending on stress, or the level of complexity, I'm finding. I'm trying to help him. I don't mind it at all - I even like it, and I'm sure you don't care, but he wants to lose his accent if he can. It's a goal that he's set for himself." "Anyway," she said, "from my own observation of him, he's in complete and total control of his shape at any given moment. He can change at will, back and forth. It doesn't seem to bother him now. But I think what he was trying to say was that if you think about it, it's not at all like a bluebird suddenly becoming a red one. Think about what has to happen on a physiological level to his body. Bones have to change shape and size, and while that's going on, his tendons, muscles and organs have to follow and not be torn apart. I mean look, just consider what has to be happening to his teeth alone as one example. None of this is possible, I'm positive, from any scientific view that we know about. But he can do it with ease. The first change must have been agony, as he's said. And he changed and lived through that, but he didn't know that he could have control, right?" Ion nodded, "This came later, that I found how I could change by wanting it. I think that some of this is that my body can decide what it needs to stay alive. I feel that I must hunt sometimes. If I try to starve myself, I will get weak, just as any man. But instead of dying, I will change to wolf and hunt until I have something to eat. When I have some strength again, then I have control back. It is hard to explain this." His eyes opened wide at a sudden thought and he sat back for a minute. Helen was about to ask, but he held up his hand for her to wait. He laughed a little, "I was thinking about how my body decides sometimes what it needs. I was thinking about how you found that I am not only wolf that night. How many winters have I had only small place to sleep in? I could not change in some of them - there is no room for this. But I was asleep over there that night on floor, and I change in front of you!" Helen held his hand, "Maybe you're right." To Stan, she said, "There was a storm that night, and I got him to come inside. He didn't want to, but I was about to haul him in by the ears if I had to. He fell asleep on the floor by the stove, and I saw him change his shape for the first time. That might end up a part of the story in the book, I haven't decided, but that's what happened." Stan nodded, and scribbled some notes, but suddenly looked up, "What part does the phase of the moon play in this?" Ion laughed, "What do I need the moon for? Do you know if the moon is full now or not?" Beamish reached into his pants pocket, "I don't know. I'll turn on my GPS and find out, I guess. I always carry this around with me. I've found it so useful in my business, and when I go hunting or fishing." He looked at the screen and watched as the instrument began to acquire signals from first one satellite and then another. "Ah," he said, as he found the function that he was looking for, "it's full." He looked up and found Ion and Helen smiling at him, "What?" Helen pointed out the window, "It's one of those days that," she made quotation marks in the air, "the 'werewolf legends' don't take into account. The moon is full whenever it's reflecting sunlight. The time of day plays no part, does it?" Stan looked past her and saw the faint full moon there in the early afternoon sky. "The legends say that a werewolf will change shape when the moon is full and the creature has no say in the matter," Helen smiled, "but he's looking right at it now, and he's still a man. You already know how he feels about religious symbols. So much for legends. I've got some garlic cloves hanging up right over there. Want to watch him eat some? I'm sure he would, but I sure won't kiss him for a while after that." Beamish laughed, "I guess there's a BS factor to any set of legends. I've read that in Denmark they thought they could cure werewolves by scolding them." Helen smirked, "Well that's another one that doesn't work. I can tell you that right now. I've personally noticed some subtle differences between his shapes that might be of interest," Helen said, "He has full control over his will in any shape, except for what he's said. There are small basic common physical factors that carry across the range of shapes. The color of his eyes stay basically the same, but the more wolf-like he gets, the brighter the intensity. The closer he is to the wolf, the more feral he gets, but still with control of his will. Higher logic functions are slightly impeded, and he then lacks the physiological ability to speak because he can't form the words." "He's only recently discovered the ability to speak in the wolfman form, but it seems to be because up to the time that we met, he never had a reason to try. The physical structure of his mouth then is more wolflike than human, but he can speak like that, and he's getting better at it. I'm as big a pain in the ass to him then as now, because I encourage him to improve, just like I try to help him with his English," she smiled a bit ruefully. Ion chuckled, "I don't mind when she helps me. No one ever wanted to help me before. They only shoot at me or run from me. When I am a man, I can make things, I can build something. As wolfman, my hands are not, ..." he looked at Helen. "Suited," "Ah," Ion smiled, "thank you again. My hands are not suited for it. But as example, Elena once said to me that she wanted to clean little beach sometime. I was wolf then. When she was gone, I did this for her. As man, I used my old saw, but to break branches, and lift tree, I was wolfman." "That's another thing that I should point out," Helen said, "I think that before he was bitten by Danaya he was a pretty strong guy, probably at the peak of his strength. But now, in any of his shapes, he has incredible physical strength, speed, and agility. That tree that he mentioned was half-buried in silt and sand. He broke off what he could, he told me, and then just ripped it out of there and threw it to block the inlet to the cove because I'd mentioned an idle wish that nobody could sail in there when I might be sunbathing, because that was kind of a nice thought to me. I thought I was just driveling on about my little passing fantasy to my friend the huge wolf. I had no idea that he could understand what I was prattling on about. And he did that for me. Stan, I think it would have taken a small crew of men and a winch to do that." She indicated the building around them with a sweeping gesture, "I know that you've made improvements over the years to help rent the place, but he built almost all of this alone. He only had help - that he had to pay somebody for - to get the main beam up for the roof and a few others. For everything else, he found ways to rig things so that he could do it alone because he had so little money. So before he was bitten, he was a pretty smart cookie, I'm thinking, and strong as an ox. He says that he is only a little different physically from before, but I'm telling you, if I need a mountain moved, he'd do it somehow, I have no doubt of it." She smiled, "We play a little game sometimes. I pull out a quarter, and toss it up. Whatever I call, heads or tails, he snaps out his hand at the right instant and grabs it to show me. The side that I call is always the one against his palm, no matter how fast I try to make it flip in the air." The afternoon was full of revelations for Stan, but he called a bit of a halt so that he and Helen could get down to some kind of framework for what they wanted to do with the book. Ion announced that he'd had enough of a break and wanted to get back to the gardens for Helen. Stan watched him for a minute as he worked, "He seems to be very devoted to you, Helen. That's pretty obvious to me, and you both seem happy." "It's still early days, Stan. I've got to be fair about it. But yes, we are pretty happy. There are bumps in the road - a lot of them, but we try very hard. I have my own reasons for that. I'm not going to elaborate, but in certain very real ways we're saving each other. It's not anything like his story, but I've had to fight my own demons. And I'm just as devoted to him. That's the real reason that I want to write this with you. I don't want him to attract attention to himself, but I want for him to have some kind of real life now with me. You couldn't have known that the man who built this was still alive, but he's had to watch as his life and dreams were either torn from him or just taken away. His wife, and the horror of all of that, his own life ruined, and then the way that he's had to hide and watch as what he built with his hands was taken and sold off. He understands all of that, and he still doesn't hate anybody." "Now he still doesn't even own what he built. I do. But I want for him to have some kind of benefit from this. If we're successful, I'll use the proceeds from what I make to set something up for him so that he has some income from it. It's even harder than I make it sound, because we live in an age where you have to have an identity to take part in anything, right? I don't know how to get him one, either. Whatever pride he once had was smashed, but I see that he needs to have something to be proud of besides the woman he loves. He knew that I brought the gun back. The first night, it was all I could do to keep him from using it on himself. Once he saw that I knew what he was, he ran out in the rain, but then remembered that his way out was here. He wanted to come back and end it for himself. I don't know how I managed it, but I went after him. I found him weeping out there at the edge of the woods. As big as he gets when he's the wolfman, he was standing out there in the lightning and teeming cold rain, crying his eyes out when I found him. He didn't know I was there, and I startled him. He just reacted and he almost killed me by accident. His body took over, but he stopped himself just in time." She looked out at Ion as he worked, "Did you know that a wolf can actually cry? I don't mean howl, I mean cry. Can you imagine how that sounds from something like him? It's actually not very loud, but it's the purest, most soul-wrenching sound of hopelessness and forlorn sadness that I've ever heard in my life, Stan, and I'm certain that it wasn't the first time since he's had to live this nightmare that he's cried." Helen wiped her eyes, and Stan was surprised at how they now blazed with her conviction, "He doesn't know this, but I made a promise to him one night as I watched him sleep. I promised him that I would do anything that I could to prevent him from ever doing that if I could manage it. I don't ever want to hear that sound again. It hurts me too much to hear it." She came back to herself and smiled a bit self-consciously, "But first things first. I need to move my things here, and I'm encouraging him to farm again at least to feed us. A man like him needs to feel like he's contributing in a real way. It started as just objections on his part about me paying for things, but we've had real fights over it. He's the mysterious farmer, by the way. And before I move, I need to buy a better boat, so that's where I'll start tomorrow." Stan Beamish thought for a second, "I can help with that part, Helen. I know of a boat that I think you'd find useful. Let me make a call when I get into the office tomorrow, and I'll give you a call when I know for sure. I might even be able to help with that identity thing, but that'll take a little longer." "Thank you, Stan, but why do you want to help, not that I'm questioning your kindness or anything." He shrugged with a smile, "Because this isn't about writing a story anymore, is it? I do want to do that now, but I'm seeing a person who has lost so much and caused none of his own misfortunes. I like a happy ending as much as anyone, but my God, what he's had to deal with and overcome. It boggles the mind, but I'm certain of a couple of things here. It's impossible - what has happened to him. It's just as impossible that he could be what he is, who he is - everything. And yet he plainly is what we see, isn't he? We can't both be sharing a common delusion. I don't know what all I can do to help, but I want to try." ------------------------ Helen stared as she stood with Stan at the marina. She didn't think she'd ever seen a boat such as what she was looking at now, "It's beautiful, Stan. What is it?" "It's an old man's dream," he said softly, "I've had her for years, but I'm getting to a point where I think she needs to be in younger hands. She's a Chriscraft, built not long after the war ended. She's thirty feet of class, Helen. Her engine is the third one that I've put into her. It lives in that doghouse there. She's real mahogany, front to back. Come on, let's take a ride, shall we?" He got her seated and he hooked up the battery before she pressed the bright chrome button which caused the engine to crank and start. They slipped off the lines, and Stan pulled the bumpers inside. Helen eased the drive into forward, and they motored out sedately. "One thing to be aware of," he said, "you can forget about any huge economy from this. She was built in the days of cheap gasoline, and that's a converted car engine back there, a police interceptor V8. The tank holds well over a hundred gallons. But I think it would suit your needs nicely." Helen found herself grinning in spite of herself. "Is she fast?" "Fast enough," he said, "she's no slouch there, but I don't think you really crave speed, do you?" Helen shook her head, "No, I was just asking, that's all.' "The engine is far more that the little eighty horse one that it came with from the factory. You'll find that, beyond about two-thirds throttle, she won't go much faster at all, she'll just make more noise and burn more gas. The hull wasn't designed for speeds over that. But you can haul a load with her, and there's seating for, I dunno, eight people if you want to entertain. That thing behind us is the top. It can be put up even in a stiff wind, but then you need to put up the outer windshield too, if you want to operate in bad weather. I'll show you how later. I have a section of rear cover folded in the stowage compartment. You can close her up completely if you need to get to town on a crummy day. You won't be as limited as you are with the aluminum one that I threw into the sale of the island." She grinned, "I feel like an old-time movie starlet here." Stan nodded, "That's the kind of feeling that she was made to inspire." He told her about all of the features, and she saw how he'd prided himself by keeping it up over the years. Helen mentally prepared herself for a huge price, but when he mentioned it, she pulled the throttle back to idle. The wind of their motion dropped off, and she stared, "How much?" "If you'll promise me that you'll do your best to keep her up, I'll sell her for two thousand, Helen, but only to you. I could get a hell of a lot more for her any day of the week, easily twenty times that and more. But there's more to having something like this than meets the eye, as you know. She'll need more than that every year, even if you don't have her put into the water. I just have trouble with the idea of some rich fool driving her around. I'd rather see you have her." He reached into the pocket of his shirt, "You cause me to break more laws than I'd ever have imagined, my girl. Here. Call that number when you get a chance. The man's name is Benny. He might be able to help with Ion's identity problem. If it goes badly, or if Ion ever gets caught with it, I don't know you or him. But I think he can help, and I've never heard of any of his ID jobs going sour before, but if this works, Ion will have to be an upstanding citizen, right? He'll have to pay taxes just like the rest of us, God help him." Helen threw her arms around the old realtor, "Thanks so much for this, Stan." Two hours later, Helen pulled up to the dock with her new boat, and tied up carefully, before she hauled on the painter line to bring the old fishing boat to the other side of the dock. She was about to climb the steps when she saw Ion there at the top. Just an Old Legend Ch. 08 "What it this, now?" He was clearly mystified. "Come here, baby," she purred as she grabbed his hand to walk to the house, "Momma's got a whole lot of news to tell, and we've just got way too many clothes on right now for me to tell it all." She made them some coffee and sat down with Ion. Starting at the top, she explained everything that had happened. He sat there in amazement, "So from what you say, I cannot get a job now, I cannot do anything?" She nodded, "Things are a lot different these days, Ion. But I did make that call. I'll hear in a few days, I hope, and then you won't have to hide here so much. As it is, if a policeman asks you for identification for some reason, you have none to give. You can't give your real name, because if somebody ever runs that name through the police computer, what will come up? A man wanted for the long-ago murder of his wife. No one would even believe that you are that man, and so they would think you were lying. You need to have a name. With a real name, you can get a job if you want one, you can learn to drive a car, own property, everything. Right now, you can't even use that little old boat that we have. You need a license for that, too. I don't carry my wallet to hold money as much as I need it to carry all of the stupid pieces of paper that I need to be able to do anything." He sat back in shock, but Helen was prepared for it. "Listen, cutie, I don't want to write that book for me. I want to write it for you, so that It'll make money. Every time that someone buys the book, I'll get some money from it, and I want to put all of that money someplace for you, Ion." She reached for her purse, and pulled a bank card from her wallet. "This," she said as she held it up, "this is how banks run today. I put money into my bank. If I need some to pay for something, I can pay at the store using this card. The money goes from my bank to the store's bank, and it's done. I can go to the bank, stick this into a machine, and take out some of my money, if I need to have real money. I want you to have the same thing. But before I can do that for you, We need two things - money, and a name for you. I hope the book will make you some money. With a name, you can have money in a bank, and you can have one of these. No name, no bank, no money, nothing. Understand now, honey?" "Not everything yet," he said, "but I am happy that I have you." "What an amazing coincidence," she said, "I was just thinking the same thing. That thought crosses my mind about every time that I look at you!" Over the next week, Helen had to make a couple of trips to her condo in the city, and she marveled at how strange her old life now looked to her. She arranged for movers to haul her things to the town near their island and prepared everything that she could think of, finally calling a realtor to put it on the market. There were a few calls to Benny from payphones and she met with him once to provide him with the passport photos and fingerprints that she'd had taken of Ion. On her second trip in, she checked with Benny and met with him for the transaction. "I got real lucky with this one," he said, "This is a real life waiting for your guy to step into. They even look the same, pretty much, and the guy's first name is the same as your guy's middle one," he said, as he showed her the photo that he had. "Landed here two months ago with legal immigration papers, everything. I have it all, even his old stuff from home in the package there. Not much in the way of relatives that I could find on the net, and none here. He just had a few bad habits. You don't need to know much more than that, but I'm gonna be out about six thousand since I had to cover his debts as I mentioned on the phone. But his name is clear now, even from the folks that he owed money to. Can you top up our price so that we're square?" Helen nodded, and passed the envelope, "Here it is. You want to count it?" Benny shook his head, "Nope. I don't need to. Stan said you'd play this right. One thing, tell your guy that he should stay the hell away from the west coast, if he can, and maybe Vegas and Jersey too, if he goes down south. I don't think you want to run into the kind of people this guy ran with, that's all. I covered everything I could find, but you never know, right? I can't say I'm perfect. There might be something that I didn't know about." "What about the real guy ever showing up?" she asked, "I don't need to know much, but what if this man gets into trouble with the law and they pick up my friend instead?" "Not possible anymore," Benny shrugged, "Nothing left to even get fingerprints or dental records from, Gorgeous. No police record, nothing. Just plenty of stupid. This guy had it in spades, but he didn't get far enough along to make anybody notice him on the law's side of the street. He just blew through somebody else's money too fast for his own good, and had no way to pay. Once they figured that out, ..." He shrugged, "By the way, there's something really lucky here I ought to mention. Your guy's fingerprints. They have some matches with the dead guy's. I'd say enough to get real ID with, if you ever get brave enough to try. It shouldn't be a problem. I was surprised. I mean, I've seen it before, but it's just quirky luck to match one or two things here and there. This is just about a legal match, nine out of ten on the important fingers. I can say they're different in some ways, and your guy's fingers are larger, but it caught my eye, you know. This could work out real good for him, I figure. Best of luck to you, doll." Two days later, Helen ran up the steps and tackled Ion. He smiled at her and told her that he thought he had a surprise for her. He showed her sketches that he'd prepared of a studio for her. Her mouth fell open, "You'd build this for me?" His smile widened, "Elena, I already have the wood for the framing. I am sorry, but it would already have been framed and ready for closing in and finishing, but I needed one detail from you - and you were not here for me to ask." "What detail, Ion? This is perfect! Why would I care about a detail?" "Which side of the house would you like me to build it on? It can go here, or there," he said pointing. Helen laughed, "Well, that is a bit of a detail. I'd prefer it if it could be there." She noticed the expression of relief on his face and laughed harder, "You would have put it here, right?" He nodded, "So glad I waited now." She hugged him tightly, "How long until it's finished?" He shrugged, "A week, and the paint will be dry. I only need some siding, and not much, the shingles and the paint, of course." "You are the most amazing man," she said, kissing him, "I have a surprise for you, too. Come here." Ion stared at the documents that Helen had tossed on the table. Helen spread them out in a couple of piles. "Who is this?" he asked mystified. "That's you now," she said, "Nichita, ... however you say that other name there. You need to read through the other pile there, and memorize everything. That's your new history to go with the name. You need most especially to remember your birthdate here. Heck, you need to memorize it like it's your own life, because that's what it is now." "And this man," Ion said, "where is he?" "Sit down, honey," she said patiently, "You might as well begin right now. I'm not going to tell you some of this, because it's actually better that you don't know. But these are good. They're real. The man is dead. That's all that you need to know. You've only been in the country for the last two months. My how your English has improved!" ---------------- Stacey McCutcheon sat on a bench in the shade of a huge oak tree sipping her bottle of water and admiring the parkland scene – or appearing to. She tossed her blonde hair with a wave of her head and watched as another woman came along the paved path on rollerblades. She reached into her purse. She didn't say anything, but she keyed a button on her radio twice. She heard the acknowledgment as a single word through the Bluetooth earphone under her hair. "Copy." The other woman slowed to a stop in front of her and looked across the open area to watch the kid's soccer game that was in progress there. She didn't look at Stacey, but Stacey heard her well enough to pick up the slight eastern European accent. "The other side of this rise behind me," she said, "twenty minutes. Head for the big chestnut tree out in the open there." Stacey couldn't believe that this woman was changing the meet. She shook her head, but the woman looked to be absorbed in the game. She wasn't even looking. "You can't do this," the blonde said, "Who do you think you are? This was set up two weeks ago..." She carried on until the woman said something quietly. "What did you say?" "I said," the black-haired woman with the long pony tail repeated – still not looking at her, "Just what kind of idiots are you people here? That's your boy out there, right? The little blonde guy? Cute as anything, number 12?" "Yes," Stacey nodded, paying a lot of attention now. "If you live through this, Stacey, don't ever bring your child to something like this ever again. You're playing with his life. My people made him when you kissed him before his game started. How do you know that we wouldn't snatch him?" She turned then and dropped a pair of photographs onto the blonde's lap. "The top picture is what's left of your spy," she said, "I did him myself. The bottom one, ... anybody look familiar?" She was staring at three bodies and she recognized them all. They were half of her security on this. She'd been speaking to them less than thirty minutes ago. "The rest are on their way out," the woman said. Looking back at Staceys now-wide eyes, she smiled as though they were talking about the weather. "Yes, I know that you were expecting somebody else for this. But you guys started this by sending in Stefan there to infiltrate us. That's how you rate meeting me today." She turned to go. "Chestnut tree, ten minutes. Your asshole handlers don't give a shit about you and even less about your baby out there. Meet me under the tree while my guys keep your cutie out there safe and I'll make sure that he gets you back after this. He's as safe as he was as a fuzzy whelp in your arms seven years ago. By now, you're the only one left on your side." "Don't fuck this up, Stacey. I WANT you and your little guy to live happily ever after." She skated away. "So," the woman said eight minutes later under the tree, "In spite of this, I'm happy to meet you. But I think you ought to take a good look at things, because this shit here points to a lot of what's wrong." She looked over her sunglasses at Stacey. "You were told to put your kid there today. I know that. It ought to tell you something. You're a pureblood, proud and in chains that your own clan put on you because you weren't born to high enough parents. I've read the file we have on you and you do good work, but you're not going anywhere – ever. And no matter how well you do your job, you'll never get more than the six that you had here for a screen to keep you alive. They didn't even put anybody on Junior, did they? They're risking your whelp as part of your cover and they didn't even cover him." "By the way," the woman said, "pull your wire now. I want to see it and there's nobody listening right now since we're jamming it. I just need to talk to you and not have to choose my words." Stacey stared for a second, but laid her radio on the ground. The woman picked it up and threw it as far as she could. Turning back, she took her sunglasses off. "It's my accent, isn't it? I said, take off your wire or I'll take it off for you." Stacey opened her blouse and pulled off the microphone and the transmitter with a grimace. The adhesive tape hurt her nipples as it came off. Ponytail threw that into the weeds as well. "Now," the ponytail said, "I know that this was considered high priority, this meeting here. And they sent you out this light – six males for a pureblood to a meeting that they KNEW would be a risk. I'm only a poor turned werewolf and I'm here with twenty-two, and loaded for a heavy fight right here in the park if it has to be. On my side of the street, you do good, you get resources. End of story. How blue your tail is doesn't mean shit to us." "Now that we're here and nobody's watching or listening, I want to give you my card. There's an email on the back. If you want out after this, send me something about soccer. I don't care what, and I'll know and I'll try to contact you if I can. How you get it past your handlers is your problem. Maybe stuff it in your bra under a boob or something. They're really not that bright, but you never know. Or you can hand it in to them, but if they try to set me up, you'll die for it, so use your head no matter what you do." "But I want you to think about something; you come work for us, and your baby stays out of gunsights because he'll be playing soccer where there's no garbage like this here. On my side of the street, a whelp's life means something. On your side, well it all depends on how many have to kiss his daddy's ass, doesn't it?" "Now I'm going to tell you what we want. You'll tell your people, and I already know that they'll do the wrong thing. We approached your clan with wide-open arms. They responded by sending an idiot to infiltrate us. Knowing that we'd be just a bit pissed, they sent you out like a lamb to talk to me. It doesn't get much more callous or stupid, Stacey. You're worth more to me than you are to them. I hope you can see that." "One last thing before we start and it's a short list." She handed Stacey a small pile of photographs. "Be sure to hand these over," she said, "These are only copies, but those are the heads of four clans which we consider more powerful than yours. They did the wrong thing too. Their clans are allied with the Kaze now anyway – but these guys here didn't make it. I nailed every one of them to the floor myself." She looked at Stacey to be sure that she understood. "Every one, Stacey. Through the heart. Those four were worth two hundred k to me in bonuses on my contract. I make good money turning stupid into ashes. If anything happens to you or your angel back there because of this, I'll hang your boss by his balls just for fun." She leaned forward with a warm smile, "It's a pleasant thought, no? I even know how you are treated." "So," she said, "Here's what you'll tell your boss..." Just an Old Legend Ch. 09 The first chapter of this has caused some confusion due to the way that the story twists. This is the huntress' tale. It might answer some questions and then, it might cause more. Don't give up, we're getting to where this all weaves together. ------------ Helen looked up, admiring his powerful body again. She reached and ran her fingers through the straight fur of his chest with a soft smile as she looked at his yellow eyes there over his snout. Ion thrust harder suddenly and her hand fell away in a bit of bliss as he shifted his weight onto one hand and caressed her stomach up to one breast. He bided his time and then thrust again just after pinching her nipple softly. Helen flew over the edge once more and began to buck as hard as she could, and then clung to him as though her life depended on it as he filled her again. She recovered and bucked a bit more gently, cooing her encouragement for more spasms from him, "I love the way you do this," she sighed, "You're such a machine." After he'd spent himself, she hugged him, "You know what? I've finally figured it out. I'm addicted to you. I mean, every time that we do this, I love the tingle that I get from it. That's never happened to me with anyone before." He looked at her, "What do you mean, tingle?" "Exactly that," Helen smiled softly, "When you finish, your semen goes in, the same as any man's would. But for one thing, there's so much of it, and mainly, it makes me tingle after. I guess I should have told you before, but right from the very first time, that's what I've always felt, and it doesn't matter where you put it, either. So thanks for that." It had been well over a year now that they'd been together. Ion now had legal identification though other than twice, Helen had never taken him into the town. Ion wondered what the point had been. He had a small subsistence farm going that he had just got the harvest in from, Helen's writing and her artwork were selling, and her book, co-authored with Stan Beamish had hit solidly on the seller list and was moving up quickly. Ion reflected that his life was now far out of hell and well into heaven, as far as he was concerned. To his mind, he owed everything to Helen and Stan. He'd never have imagined that he could have such happiness. He wondered if he deserved it. He kept that quiet little doubt locked away. The one time that he'd voiced it had been the worst fight that they'd had. After she'd wound down, Helen had apologized. "Look, Ion, I'm very sorry for that. But you always sell yourself short. You are a wonderful man. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I just hate it when you put yourself down the way that you do. I understand about you thinking that you're just a humble guy. But I know how fabulous you are." "I've always told you what I'm doing. I'm doing most of it for us - the same as you do - for us. But I also do some things just for you. I love you, and that's enough reason for me right there, but it's also because you were cheated by everyone and everything, whether they were aware of it or not. I could support both of us and not notice the cost, pretty much, but I know that you need to do some things to feel that you have worth. I get that. I'm just helping you to get started." There was something in what she'd said that bothered him to a small degree for its slightly condescending tone, but there was also something else in the sound. And right there, he saw the small tear begin. His vision drilled down to sharp focus on that tear within a tenth of a second of time. He embraced her and asked about it. Helen struggled, but finally just quietly said it, "I need to do this for you, Ion. I'm not going to be around forever, am I? You just stay the same, but I get older every day." He now thought about that, and what she said that she felt during sex. With no answers, he filed them away for the moment. The truth was that in spite of the way that she talked, he'd noticed that they seemed to be drifting apart a little bit. With nothing to compare what he'd noticed against, he could only wonder about it vaguely. Helen had her reasons to pull back a little and they bothered the hell out of her, though she said little. For one thing there was that aging problem. He could go on like this forever, but she faced the arch enemy of all women - time itself. She'd mentioned to him several times that it might be better for them if he'd just bite her so that they'd have it out of the way. Ion had real fears based on what had happened to Danaya's mind. It terrified him to think that it might happen to Helen, and so he refused. He could see that his gentle refusals were beginning to bother her. From her point of view, she'd done a lot for him and he was holding out on her. From his viewpoint, this wasn't a gift at all, what she was asking him for. She was asking him to be let in to a nightmare without end. Another thing was that she could say what she wanted to him to cover it, but he was helpless in the modern world without her and that took a lot of effort on her part. She'd wanted a man who was something of an equal. Ion was far more than that, in many ways, but for some things, ... And then there had been that one unexpected email, hidden among the many that landed in the mailbox provided to her by her publisher. She scrolled through them and even answered many from her fans old and new and there were more every day now, but seeing that one had almost caused her to drop her laptop when she'd recognized the old account where it had originated. Pete might just be an ex-husband, but he bought and read everything that she published, she knew from before their divorce. It just had never occurred to her that he'd still be doing that. It had taken her over a week to decide to answer it, but she did answer finally. The conversation of their emails told him that she was living on the island of her book. When he'd inquired about what had inspired the book, she'd been stuck, but had finally replied that it had sprung from some old history in the area. Helen in turn had learned that Pete was now on his own again, and he said that he didn't mind it. Before she could ask, he just said that they'd drifted apart, but after about another week of correspondence, he admitted that whatever they'd had, it had just flamed out after a time, and they both realized that they were drifting. He asked for a phone number where he might reach her if it wasn't a problem, and Helen had hesitated for a few days, and then told him that she'd be on the road making appearances for her publisher, and they might meet up somewhere for coffee. She wrote that she'd advise him of her itinerary. The next day, she had a cell phone. It wouldn't work on the island, since there were no cell towers for miles, but she told herself that with it, she could check in with Ion while she was on the road to make sure that he was ok. Well, that was what she told herself, anyway. Stan Beamish was a bit surprised when she'd told him that she was going away for a while. He'd been asked to go with her, but his business had forced him to decline. Now Helen was asking him to look in on Ion for her while she was gone. He was hesitant. "I don't mind giving him a call now and then, Helen, but I'm not going to go there without an invitation from him. It's a half hour by boat and a half hour back. I don't have that kind of time very often. How long will you be away?" "It ought to be about two weeks, Stan. I'm not all that worried, but I'm mostly asking for my peace of mind. But you're right. I shouldn't have asked it that way. Just call him every couple of days, that's all. I'll be calling him about that often too." Stan finally agreed, and Helen left, wondering why she felt guilty. Pete caught up to her by the third day. Helen was happy to see him again as they had dinner together. About halfway through, Pete admitted that he was sorry that they'd split up, and that he still missed her after all the time that they'd been apart. Helen's admission surprised him. She told him that she'd wished to be able to turn back time and do that one day over. She said that she'd never have made that mistake if she'd known how much she'd needed him. Helen lay awake in her hotel room. She had so many things to think about. Ion was the biggest of them. She thought that she'd have missed him more than she seemed to be. She had much more on her conscience to wrestle with now. She looked over and smiled for a moment at Pete asleep there next to her. It felt like old times, almost like they'd never been apart. Pete was still such a handsome man. He might not be able to thrash her around on a bed the way that she liked now and then, and he wouldn't be a furnace to cuddle up against on a cold winter night, but he was still such an attentive lover, and that was all that she'd ever really wanted from a man. They could make love and actually talk about intelligent things during the glow and afterward. Helen smiled as she remembered how Pete had been so thankful for this opportunity. Of course, she hadn't told him about Ion. Pete made some changes to his itinerary and got on the horn, assigning people to cover for many of his functions while he was away. It got to where they traveled to together on her tour. She'd make the required appearances, and then she'd sign copies of the book that had made all of this possible. And all the while there was Pete, somewhere within her field of view. He'd always been proud of her and that hadn't changed as well after all of this time. It wasn't long before they told each other the three words that were working like a magic ointment to repair the damage of all that time ago. This was new and uncharted territory for Helen. She'd never cheated before. She tried to tell herself that she and Ion weren't married, but it didn't allow her to feel any better. ------------------------------ Playa de Las Teresitas Village of San Andrés Tenerife, Canary Islands On the Island of Tenerife, Lia Pantoferu set down her empty drink beside her deck chair and looked idly around for a waiter. She smiled as one came hustling over to ask if she wanted another and she nodded. She glanced around casually at the other people for a moment, taking in the women's bathing suits which left so little to the imagination these days. Lia wondered why they wore them. Why not just head for a nude beach? She herself wore a stylish one-piece that said much more if you had the eyes to see it. Lia didn't have a need to hide a thing, she just wasn't about to advertise needlessly. She nodded and smiled her dazzling smile when the waiter returned. He wore just about the look that she expected, and even tried in his banal way to strike up a hopeful conversation about the parts of her tattoos that he could see, but Lia wasn't in the mood to look at the message that he was trying to send her. She guessed that it must work for him about twenty percent of the time, given the goods he was pushing. It wasn't his fault, he just didn't have the horsepower for what she wanted, as fit as he thought he was. She dug briefly through her bag and pulled out the novel that she'd picked up in the duty-free shop in Bucharest. She wouldn't have given it a second glance, but had asked her friend the salesgirl to recommend one to go with the three others that she'd picked out herself. She always liked to ask the sales staff whenever she bought books. A lot of the time, those recommendations turned out to be worthless drivel that entertained the sort of minds which liked to lap up nonsense, but every so often, Lia had found a jewel in this way. Dacia had apologized that the only edition that they had was in English, but Lia didn't mind. She'd laughed and thanked Dacia for her advice as she paid for the books and strutted away just before her flight began to board. There had been a bit of a funny moment as Lia glanced back briefly to find Dacia looking at her. They had both laughed a little and Lia had walked off. They'd been best friends for a while now. Lia was certain that without her elfin-looking friend's ability to make her laugh at herself, she'd long ago have become murderously miserable. Lia had no interest in women, but with a smirk, she thought that right now, Dacia stood a better chance of getting her into bed than this waiter, and that was never going to happen either. She had no doubt that he'd get his share that night anyway. Given the talent that she saw around here, he probably didn't strike out all that often. Her quick glances showed plenty of office-types whose idea of a relatively safe vacation bedtime adventure was right there with the tray of drinks. She decided that if this didn't improve soon, she'd be asking around for the nearest nude beach. There'd be less drinks, but she hoped for at least some better scenery to entertain her. All of the men here liked to eat too much, even the young ones, she noted sadly. She scanned the back cover of the book in her hand and read the usual patter about an impossible romance against all odds and so forth. The villain was a werewolf, apparently. Amazing, she thought with a slight grimace, I need to know of such things. Werewolves and vampires and zombies, oh my. She set it down and looked at her other purchases. That took five whole minutes. They were worse that the nonsense about the werewolf, she thought. With a tired sigh, she picked it up again and began to read. Twenty minutes in, she motioned the hopeful waiter to come and adjust her chair and turned onto her front to continue. By dinnertime, she was reading it through for the second time, but much more slowly as she scribbled notes and sipped wine. At midnight, she set it down and turned on her notebook to connect to the net through the WiFi in her suite. Lia did a quick search for the relevant parties, and came up pretty thin. That was fair, she thought, and she sent a query via email to an old friend. He'd never failed her, she thought with a small smile as she turned in. By ten the following morning, Lia had eaten breakfast and turned on her notebook again. There in her inbox was a lengthy reply with more information than she thought she'd ever need. She sat on the balcony of her room and ordered more coffee as she began to take more notes and put things together in her head. The afternoon was spent on the net doing her own research. Early the next day, she was already checked out and in the limo to the airport for her flight home, or rather, to the home that she wanted to be in while she laid out her itinerary and did some shopping and as always, more research. She read the book again during the flight, finally admitting to herself that she'd liked it after all. That brought her to think of Dacia for a moment. It was a passing thought that clung there somehow. It had been a long while since Lia had had a friend. She now always felt so thankful to have one. As her flight passed over Greece, Lia flagged down the stewardess and asked to make a call. ----------------- Henri Coandă International Airport, Otopeni, Romania Dacia groaned as she looked at the clock. Another hour and a half. She could have sworn that the thing was stuck or that the mechanism was filled with molasses or something. The hands always moved so slowly when she was looking at some time off. Her cellphone jingled in her pocket. Dacia looked around. There were no customers in the store, so she pulled the phone out and answered it. She smiled to hear Lia's voice. "Where are you now?" she asked, "Are you calling me from Shanghai today?" Lia smiled, "Hardly. I'm, ..." she looked out of the window, "I'm just leaving Greece." "You're in Greece?" Dacia was amazed, "I thought you were going - " "I'm just leaving Greece behind and far below me. I'm on the flight in from Madrid, since I had to switch planes there. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner and hang around tonight. I had thought of maybe going to a club, but I'm all tired out from using my ass to hold myself up in the seat. What are you doing tonight?" Dacia grinned, "I was just going to go home and flop onto my couch. I'm tired too, but I have a few days off now." Lia sat up, "So you're at the airport? Can you meet me in arrivals? We can get some dinner. I'll pay." "You're sounding pretty happy. Did you find any game to hunt? I'd love to hear all about it. I'll be waiting for you." They sat in the little travel eatery, "Can you tell me about your trip? I'm still wondering how you hunt what you hunt for." Dacia was always pumped to listen to her friend's travel adventures. Lia smiled, "I will, but not here. Let's finish our meal and then can we go to your apartment? I don't really want to go to mine tonight. If I do, I'll get lost in paperwork until Wednesday, and I just want to be with a friend after being alone in a strange country for awhile." Dacia nodded, "Sure. Did you bring me a werewolf stuffed inside one of your bags? My apartment is as cold and lonely as ever and I need some strong furry arms to keep me warm." As silly as Dacia often made herself out to be, she had many redeeming qualities. She was as intelligent as her best friend, and held a degree in linguistics, among other things. Lia had found her in her dead-end job at the airport, and that meeting had begun a huge change in her life. Dacia was one of only a very few humans who knew of the Kaze federation. Indeed, they were her actual employers now. She taught languages and was used as an instructor in travel protocols, how to be aware of and work with - or around security systems and procedures. She often joked with Lia that she was a werewolf-in-training. The truth of it was that she really did want to be turned. Lia had brought Dacia's desire forward to her superiors. They were waiting for clearance and permission now. From their side of it, the federation was pleased since it would remove the issue of a potential security weakness. Dacia was satisfied for the moment. The wait gave her a chance to look for and hopefully meet a prospective mate for herself. In the meantime, she hung out with Lia whenever their schedules allowed. Dacia was a gorgeous little thing and dressed just a bit ahead of whatever the latest trend was. She was a bit on the small side and her huge pretty eyes gave her a slightly elfin appearance. Lia loved her for her pure heart and staunch friendship, while Dacia played the loyal sidekick when they were together. She was hip as hell with her long, bright red hair, but the truth be told, she was also a reluctant virgin. She covered it with the most hilarious sauce, though. Lia had found that out right off. At Dacia's apartment, they'd gotten a bit drunk. Dacia sighed tiredly and looked at Lia. "I like girls, you know," she announced with a sly and silly grin at her best friend. Lia's eyes rolled skyward, "I know, Dacia, I've heard that about you." Dacia was shocked, "You - you have?" "Of course," Lia said off-handedly. Dacia was surprised and a little off-balance now. She was wondering if this was that obvious about her. "Where did you hear that?" Lia snorted, "From you, you drunken twit. You've only told me that six times now. I mean, six times tonight. You always tell me that repeatedly just as soon as you get alcohol into you when we're together. I keep telling you that you're barking up the wrong tree, but it doesn't stop you." "I don't believe it for a minute, since I never see you make a pass at any women when we go out. You don't even make eyes at them. I doubt that you've got the nerve to try it. And don't even think of going further than talking about it with me. I love you too much to lose you over this." She put her arm around Dacia and hugged her, "If that's how you are and you want to talk, that's fine. I don't mind. But it's not what I see when I look at you. What you are, my dear friend, is horny and frustrated, that's all. I think that you need or would like someone who is larger than you and feels protective toward you. That's why you talk this nonsense to me, because I fit this role for you somehow. But the rest? I'm sorry Dacia, I can't be that for you." Just an Old Legend Ch. 09 Lia smiled warmly, "What I'm positive would make you deliriously happy would be to find a good-looking man with a fairly strong personality. But he also has to be soft toward you, and allow you your good humor and flamboyant ways. That's the type that I'm always keeping my eyes open to find for you - when I'm not looking for a guy for myself. I'm not having much luck at it either, but then I'm not looking for the same kind that I think would be just perfect for you." Dacia looked over with awe, "That's really deep, Lia. It's like you can see right into me." She paused to think on it, "I'm fairly certain that you're right, too." She sighed and settled in against Lia's shoulder comfortably and was still for a moment. "But I still like-" Lia clapped her hand over Dacia's mouth, "Enough. Say that one more time to me and I'll decide that you're too drunk and really need to be held under an ice cold shower. Understand?" Dacia's bright eyes opened wide over the side of Lia's thumb, "Mm-hmmf," she said with a slight nod. "Good," Lia said, "I love you to death and beyond only for being my friend. I haven't ever had a friend like you, Dacia. But I have no interest in what you are talking about here, and even less in hearing about it if it concerns me." She took her hand away and they sat in silence again. "That's really kind of you to look out for a guy like you say for me." Dacia sighed with a bit of sadness, "Maybe you could look for a girl like that for me, too. I don't know how to start with one any more than I do with a guy, and the men that I seem to attract like flies are such obvious assholes that I just get repulsed by them." Lia turned to glare at the smaller woman, "If you're not careful, I'll drag you into one of those clubs and watch as you find that you really don't like girls as much as you think you do while they chase you around because you're so cute or hand you from one to the next to sit on their laps. They can be quite aggressive there and I need more laughter in my dull life." Dacia was silent for a moment, but it didn't last long. It never did. The face beneath the bright red mop turned to her friend, "But if you did that, and I decided that I didn't want to be chased by them, you'd save me, right, Lia? You'd pull me out of there before it went too far, wouldn't you?" Lia found that it was very hard to keep her face straight now, but she managed it as she replied, "Maybe." "No," the mop nodded with certainty, "you'd intervene. They'd leave me alone anyway because they'd all see that we're together. If they didn't you'd pull me out and I'd get to go home with the most beautiful woman I know, so you see -" The rest was replaced by the sounds of Dacia's pleading as she was dragged to the bathroom under Lia's arm. Lia had no trouble holding Dacia balanced against her hip as she turned the shower on full cold and ignored her bleating cries. "Last chance," Lia said through clenched teeth, "Admit to me that this is foolishness. I'm getting very tired of it all now." She was surprised to see that her friend was about to cry. She shut off the water and held her up. "What is it now?" Dacia sniffled, "I'm sorry, Lia. I won't say that anymore. I know that you're right, but I love to tease you like this and wonder what might happen, that's all." "You mean besides your losing a few teeth?" Lia exhaled heavily. "Nothing would happen, Dacia. You'd find me to be very unresponsive. I can't even find a man that I want for me. A woman doesn't even come into the picture. Come on, let's go back to the couch. The wine is too far away over there." The two friends sat in the dark together, sharing the bottle of wine that they passed between them. As so often happened, Dacia's thoughts were random from Lia's point of view. The conversation about her orientation was forgotten to be replaced by something else that her friend hadn't seen coming. "I just love ghost stories," Dacia sighed as she sat on the floor next to Lia leaning against the couch, "I've adored them since I was a little girl. Do you know any?" Lia nodded, and Dacia said, "I like them best when It's quiet and dark late at night and I'm a little drunk." "You mean like now," Lia said. "Yes," Dacia sighed, "I like all kinds, but my very favorites are the ones that aren't all that scary, but they're really haunting - and I'm not making a joke here, you know, the kind that are a little bit sad in a ghostly way. Do you know any like that?" "One," Lia replied distantly. "Well, can you tell it to me? Really quietly?" "Dacia," Lia said, "I will, but you have to shut up long enough for me to get started at least. And I'm tired, so just listen now." Dacia's little girl nature seemed to take over and she unconsciously snuggled closer to Lia after she nodded happily. Lia rolled her eyes to herself and sighed. It was like babysitting a young cousin or something. "In the middle of the Carpathian mountains, I know of a sunny mountain meadow. It's a beautiful place, and from near the top of it, you can see far down, almost all the way to next week if the sun is out. It's so pretty all year round, but my favorite time of year is the late spring to early summer when the wildflowers are almost jumping out of the ground. I go there sometimes to watch a couple of ghosts." "In the daytime?" Dacia asked, whispering. "Ghosts are trapped spirits, Dacia. They do what they've always done. In this place, the daytime is the time for them. Anyway, at the top of this slope, there are some trees and an old cart path road. This is at the end of it. Farther along below, there's what's left of a little village. There's nobody much left there. The people left a long time ago to get jobs in the city. The end of the road at the top has the ruins of two small cottage farms about 300 meters apart. One is in worse shape than the other because the people who lived there moved away sooner, but both stand empty now and have for a long time." "I think that sometimes a life is fated to suffer before it's really begun. One of the ghosts was a young girl. She was born with bent and twisted legs, and so she had a lot of trouble getting around and walking was a terrible task for her. Her parents were as poor as anyone else around there, but they did without a lot of things and were able to buy her braces for her legs, and shoes to make her feet and legs begin to grow straight. The worst was the shoes for their daughter. These shoes were very expensive, and of course the girl grew, even though she was small for her age. They couldn't always get her the shoes that she needed, so she wore the ones that she had until the shoes themselves hurt her feet." "The people in the other cottage were just as poor, but the man there knew how to work leather a little bit, and he always did his best to make her shoes fit better, and sometimes even made new rough-looking shoes out of the poor leather that he could make if they slaughtered a cow for meat." "Being at the end of the road, the girl had a long struggle every day to get to the little school. She had to leave much earlier than the other children so that she wouldn't be late and also because - well, children can be very cruel. They would tease her and often push her down so that they could laugh as she tried to get back up again." "The other family had a boy the same age as the girl. He was only a little bit bigger, but he had a very large heart. He would walk with her to school. Whenever the girl was knocked down, if he saw who had done it, he would fight them with everything that he had, no matter how many there were. He often had his own clothes torn up from it and he would be beaten by his parents when he got home, though his father was never too hard on him after he learned why his son had done it. After he'd driven the other children off, the boy would comfort the crying girl and help her up. He always made her stand up straight so that he could see if the leg braces needed to be adjusted for her." "They liked to sit together there on the slope in the meadow and talk. The girl would ask him why he always fought so hard for her, and he would say that he did it to hurt the other children enough to make them think before they tried to push her again. Since they didn't care about the girl, they would have to care about how they'd get beaten if they tried it. Sometimes he would get beaten pretty badly too, but the girl could see that he always put his heart into it so that they'd leave her alone." "The boy grew stronger and bigger, and they were the best of friends who always had each other. If he had trouble with schoolwork, the girl would do anything that she could to help him with his lessons so that he would be able to do as well as her. He could have been friends with any of the children, but he loved that girl and always looked out for her. She had a lot of trouble getting around on the slope, but he encouraged her to try as hard as she could to get stronger and manage better. He always seemed to know when the girl couldn't go on anymore, and then he'd pick her up and carry her home so that her mother could rub her aching legs with liniment. None of the other children liked the girl because of her deformity, and the two friends went to the meadow often because they'd be left alone there." "I can see them when I sit on the slope there. Sometimes, I see them walking, and I can almost hear the words that the boy says to the girl, always praising her, but watching so carefully to know when she can't go further. Sometimes I see them sitting close together and talking as the girl paints pictures of the world with her words and they watch the clouds. My heart always flies if I see that the boy is lying on his back, so that the girl can lie down and rest her head on him, because it was her favorite way to spend their time together with him telling tales of adventures that they might have together some day. I sit there and cry for them, but it always makes me feel a little better if I'm feeling sad when I go there." "The years passed, and with the boy's constant help, the girl's legs began to grow straight, and they did start to grow strong, finally. The boy was always there for his friend, no matter what work he had to do. If she could, the girl tried to help, and he told her it helped him even if she only was there as he worked. But one day, the boy's father gave up his farming there and took a job closer to the city, though still on a farm. Both of the children were upset because the boy would be moving away. The girl tried hard not to cry because her friend had always taught her to do her best to be strong and not let anyone see that she had to struggle so hard." "The last day was the worst. They sat in the meadow for hours only hugging each other, each fighting back their tears. Finally, the boy's parents called him to go. The two friends kissed each other one last time, and he walked away up the slope. The girl stood and waved until he was gone. Then she began to cry until she thought that her poor heart had burst from her sobs. She didn't know what to do without him and she cried for weeks." "The boy's father was a relation of the schoolteacher, and together they'd sat down some time before and wrote a letter on the girl's behalf to the officials of the school district. The letter moved from one desk to another up the line, until one day some months after, it was arranged that the girl was to go to a better school where she might learn at a speed more suited to her own pace. She was twelve then and arrangements were made for her to board at the school free of charge. She excelled in this school and graduated quickly. By the time that she'd finished, she was sent to a college, and then offered a job as a teacher herself and as a young woman now, she began to teach." "While all of this was happening, she received care for her legs, and the doctors were amazed that there were now only small adjustments needed before she could walk without braces and even run for the first time in her life. She told them of her friend and how he had encouraged her. They told her that he'd done exactly what she'd needed, far more than the village doctor had ever done for her." "The boy's grandparents stayed at the old farm, and when she could, the girl would travel home and visit with them hopefully to learn what she could of her friend. He had grown by now and helped his father until he was old enough to join the army and become a soldier. The young woman always hoped to be able to see him again because she loved him so. Some of the boys in that place were now interested in her, but all that she could remember was the way that they'd treated her before. She wanted only her boy, as she thought of him, and nobody else even held her attention." Dacia was enthralled by the tale, but she was also surprised to see that there were now tears on her friend's cheeks. Lia sighed sadly, "But it never happened. Their lives and their jobs worked against them, and then his grandmother got sick and died. The old man did not live long after her, and then the young woman got no news at all for some time. One day, a letter came from the girl's aunt informing her family of her cousin's wedding. The groom was the girl's friend from long ago. Her parents were the poorest of the relations and had received no invitation to the wedding. So the girl went back to her little room at the college and cried yet again." "A year or so later, she was visiting her parents and learned that the boy had gone to start a farm in another land far away. The cousin now came to visit sometimes, and once admitted to the girl that she had feigned becoming pregnant so that the boy would marry her. It was an easy matter then, she said to "lose" the baby after the wedding. The girl didn't know what to think, but what could she do about it? They were married then. She hadn't seen the boy in years at this point, and just gave up her childhood dream of loving the boy for herself." Dacia stirred after a few seconds of silence, "What happened then? What happened to the boy?" Lia was still for another moment and then she continued, "Almost two years later, the cousin visited again while the girl was at home and said that the boy had sent her enough money for her to join him. They sat up late at night and talked. The girl by now hated her cousin for many reasons, and made an excuse to step outside for some air. She felt that if she couldn't get away from her cousin, she'd tell her what she thought, but as she walked a little, she heard a sound behind her, and when she turned around, she found that her cousin was coming after her quickly and began to turn into a wolf before her eyes. Before the girl could even try to run, she was forced to the ground and bitten. The cousin stood up and laughed, saying that she knew of her feelings toward her husband, and that she'd now go to him and make him a werewolf as well. The girl ran stumbling and falling down the dark slope of the mountain and into the forest. As she wept, she began to change." "What happened then is that her life ended as she knew it. She never went home again, she never saw her family again, except for once as a wolf. She lived like an animal for many years after. As a wolf, she hunted other animals to eat, and even preferred it to being a woman, because as a woman, she would remember her life and all of its pain more clearly." "That's terrible," Dacia said, "What happened to her? What happened to the cousin and the boy?" "After many long years, the girl became like a ghost in her heart. She met others like herself and they began to try to bring themselves up from beasts to be intelligent creatures at last. She still does this, but she is a ghost in reality. When she visits the old meadow all alone, she then feels as though it's the only time that she's not a ghost herself when she sees the ghosts of the boy that she loved and never had for herself, and the girl who she once was." "But," Dacia struggled, "How can she be a ghost? You said she was a werewolf." Lia's face showed only a sad smile, "She is a werewolf today and has been since she was bitten. She lives like a ghost. She feels like a ghost. Remember that I said that ghosts are trapped spirits, Dacia. What is the difference if the spirit is trapped in some small place like a graveyard, making little noises, or trapped on a hillside, being a happy girl, or trapped in an empty but busy life, and never having been happy since the day that her boy left? It's true, she is not dead, but that's just a matter of time, isn't it? Even werewolves do not live forever." "So she's not dead then? Do you know her? Is she really a werewolf? How do you know of this, Lia? Have you seen her there? It makes no sense to me now." "All right," Lia said quietly, "she still lives, though all of this happened long before you were born. You know her because you know me. Remember me? Your glamorous friend? You know that I am a huntress. Some of us hunt others who act like beasts and kill people. I hunt them and I kill them as you know, Dacia. That is my glamorous job." She sniffled quietly for a moment and then tried to speak, but her voice cracked and her pain came out along with her words. "I am the girl. I am a ghost who still lives, but doesn't know what for. Until I met you, I didn't care about anybody anymore. Now I have a friend who is not afraid of me." She opened her shirt, and Dacia saw the torn scar there above one breast. Dacia was saddened for her friend. She'd known what Lia was for a while but had never heard her story, or even considered that Lia was far older than she appeared to be. "I thought that it was just a story," she said, trying not to stare at her friend now, but not being able to help it as she noticed the silent tears streaming from her eyes. "That's what they are, Dacia. That's what they all are. But each one of those stories contains a life that has been ruined and cannot ever be repaired. There is nobody living near the meadow now. It took me many years, but I bought the land of the upper meadow and I bought the two small ruined farms. It's the only place in the world where I can go to feel a little bit better for a while. " "You wanted to know about the boy, and you joked that you wanted me to bring back a werewolf for you. Nothing was ever heard about my cousin or her husband by their families again. Sometimes I find werewolves who do not know about the federation. If I can, I try to see if they are sane and then I pass their location on to Micha for him to arrange what might have to be done for them." Her beautiful face hardened for a moment after she wiped her tears with her hand. "Do you ever wonder why I hunt? I have a different hope now. If I ever find that my cousin still lives somewhere in North America, the federation can do whatever they want to me afterward for breaking the rules. I swear that I'll rip her rotten heart out of her chest with my bare hands to kill her. That's all that I want for myself anymore." "What would you do if you found the boy still alive as a werewolf?" Dacia asked. Lia shook her head, "The odds are very long that either of them are still alive if they've lived as beasts. Even if they were still alive, they'd look awful for it. If he still lived and I found him after killing my cousin? I don't really know what I'd do, Dacia. I think I'd probably let him watch me kill myself in front of him with my silver blade." Lia sighed, "Now you know why I can't find a man for myself. I almost always have no interest, and even if I did, what would be the point? A human man couldn't love me like I'd want as what I am. Another werewolf wouldn't know a thing about loving me as I know that my Nikki would if none of this had happened, and a human man might be able to do that, but would never be able to get as close to my heart as Nikki would have with just his touch." Just an Old Legend Ch. 09 She hid her face in her hands and wept. Dacia's own tears slid down for her friend as for once, she was the one doing the comforting as she held Lia tightly. She didn't think that she'd ever want to hear a sad love story ever again, now that she'd heard Lia's. -------------------- Bucharest, Romania Two days after, Lia was up at dawn, with a sweater, tight jeans and boots on her thin sweet frame, grinding through the gears of a battered light truck that she'd borrowed. She was on her way out of Bucharest. She smirked as she thought that life could be so odd sometimes. It had taken an aborted vacation to Tenerife to get her hands on that book. In Dacia's VIP duty-free shop in Bucharest, of all places. That book was now leading her on a pilgrimage of sorts. Lia brushed her long black hair out of her eyes and leaned forward a bit to see through the smeared windshield on her way to someplace that she'd once sworn to herself that she'd never go back to again. Her journey took her to old parishes and churches, and each visit required long quiet hours in the graveyards afterwards, checking names and dates, something that she hated to do. Finally, she began her hunt in earnest, checking hotel bars and country inns. A bill passed quietly often gained her more than she wanted to hear. Somebody always said too much, but Lia didn't mind. For what she was after, it wasn't all that hard. This was something that she really ought to have done long ago, but there was an aspect to it that had always caused her to put it off. She finally ended up outside a ramshackle barn near a little town with a lot of personal significance. It wasn't anywhere near where she was from and Lia was trying hard not to think about that part of it, but it kept creeping into her thoughts as the day grew old. All that it accomplished was to keep her angry. Finally, she caught her first glimpse of him as he hobbled out through the broken doorway to urinate against the wall. She was a bit surprised, since she'd expected to see somebody a little bit more powerful-looking. He just looked like a broken-down drunk to her, though she could see that he was the one. She could always tell. This guy just looked like a wreck, but she supposed that a century and a half of hard drinking could do that to anyone. He must have been a wreck when he'd been bitten and had certainly not improved any. He heard her soft approach, and began to grumble, "I'm an old man. Having to piss a lot just goes with that naturally. I'll be on my way in a minute, just have some patience." He tried to stretch out what he was doing as he gauged the distance to the sound of the footfalls. He hadn't seen anyone pass by here in a week, so that couldn't be a good thing for this one, he smiled to himself. It was a stroke of good luck to him, he wouldn't have to go far for a meal tonight, and he hoped they had a drop of something to drink on them. He spun around to lunge as he changed, but saw only a young woman of maybe twenty-four or so, and she was about fifty feet from him. He wondered about his hearing for an instant. It wouldn't matter much anyway, he thought. He prepared to spring at her, but saw only a streak as she ran toward him. He found his vision a mess of bright flashes as her kick connected, and he flew through the rotted old wood of the barn to land on his back. She landed on her feet and was in front of him in an instant. He felt the heat of her silver sword against his chest. The smell of his burning flesh was awful. The pain was far worse. He reverted to human form. There was no point to anything else. He looked up in confusion. "Who are you?" Her face was only mildly grim, "Nobody." She waited for his fogged old brain to catch up to events. She saw it when it happened in his eyes as he saw hers, "You. You - you're - " "A lot cleaner than you are, yes, you smelly old swine. Beg for your life." He looked confused, but she was serious. "Come on" she said, "show me what a man you are and beg me not to kill you. I can't wait to hear it. Let's hear you plead for mercy. You must have heard it often enough as you killed. Come on, it's your turn now, you bag of shit." He thought about putting up a fight, he even began to shift but finally just wheezed at her, "P-Please, don't -" "Oh fuck off," she said as she rammed the sword into his heart. She shook her head, even his last scream had been pitiful. Lia pulled a point and shoot camera from her pocket and took one photo with the old face showing clearly, the sword through his chest and into the ground as he lay bent backward in his last agony. The next shot was only of his head after her lightning fast sword stroke had severed it. Lia wiped the blade carefully with a clean rag which she discarded right afterwards. She got the old gas can from the back of the truck and poured that around until it was empty and then bent down to place the sealed white phosphorus packet onto his body with the tiny explosive charge and turned the receiver on. As she drove away, she hit the button on the transmitter. There was a bright flash inside the barn just before the sky lit up behind her. A quick turn on two roads and she was away. Lia pulled out the camera and stepped through the photos as though she was afraid that they weren't there. Satisfied, she shut it off and just drove. It didn't matter now anyway, she thought. The strange super-strain of the condition had been isolated in the laboratory and understood and explained. There was no reason for the derelict and self-serving drunkard who had caused such misery with his long trail of depredations to be ignored and allowed to live any longer. She was sure that if the federation's scientists had figured this out as she had, they'd have wanted to bring him in alive, but Lia had prevented that forever. If they ever found that she'd been the one who had deprived them of their lab specimen of the original super-strain there would be hell to pay. Lia herself couldn't have cared less. She'd loved her grandfather when he'd been alive. The federation scientist's way of looking at the progression angered her for comparing this piece of shit to the love of a real biological grandparent. This one had no biological tie to her. He'd only been in her chain of turned individuals. In werewolf terms, from one bitten person to the next in a line, Lia had just murdered her grandfather, the one who had turned her cousin. It was a start, she admitted, but the whole thing had still pissed her off. She checked her mirrors and headed for the larger roads back to Bucharest. Just an Old Legend Ch. 10 Fine. I've danced you all over in this, so let's get this party started. Grab your reading accessories. In answer to my committing the cardinal sin of romance writers, I want to mention what's going on in Helen's heart. She's loved Ion very much, but there are limitations to him in her mind. I can't really say myself, but she's never tried to do what she can to improve those limitations. It's one thing to have gotten him ID and all, but it's still a big step to get him integrated into modern society. Maybe it's the effort, I dunno. It's made worse by him refusing to give her what she wants and it gets worse all the time. Did I mention that she loves to a good argument? Running into Pete, and finding that there is a way to fix what happened, one thing leads to another, I guess. Maybe loving a werewolf isn't all it's cracked up to be. Maybe loving a bazillionaire is everything it's cracked up to be. Yeah, I know she's my character. That doesn't mean that I've figured her out myself. ---------------- Bucharest, Romania Sitting in her apartment, Lia finished her report on the successful hunt of the old renegade in the barn. She logged off the federation server and went back to her mental planning for how she'd begin the ground part of her hunt for the werewolf in the fictional romance. As she sat back and nibbled on a slice of toast, she kept her eye on her inbox. It didn't take more than the amount of time that she guessed that Micha needed to read what she'd sent before she received an email from him. The message itself was just drivel about month-end figures for some business, but the wording contained key words that told her that he needed to see her. She smiled and finished her toast before heading in. The meeting was a congratulatory one, and he asked her about making up the vacation. She told him that she'd like that, but also that the kill had just been a clean-up of an old problem in the area. She pointed out how she'd come to her decision, and that what was really on her mind was the fairly real possibility of a renegade in North America - one who might have survived there for up to seven decades. She remarked that if there was truth to what she had put together, there could well be a woman there in danger at the least, and a whole town at worst. She left twenty minutes later with Micha's blessing for the ground search. It was what she'd been after the whole time. Lia's skill and her record allowed her certain privileges over the other hunters, such as hunting down the renegade who had turned Danaya without needing to seek approval beforehand. But she still couldn't mount a whole campaign on her own, so she'd used the one kill to point to the need to root out any subsequent turnings. And she hadn't said a thing about the bloodline involved. Micha had agreed that they needed to know if the individual in the book did indeed exist, and if so, was he sane and adjusted? If he was, then Lia had permission to make contact and inquire if he'd like help from the Kaze to fit into modern human society. If in Lia's sole opinion, he was a possible threat to humans, then she now had authority to remove that threat discreetly. She secretly hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that as she packed and booked the tickets for her flight. --------------------------- Northbound Highway 400 Ontario, Canada Lia pulled off the highway into a rest stop half an hour out of the city. She left the rental van running and stepped into the back to change. Six minutes later, she was back on the road and motoring northward for a few hours and enjoying the blaze of the fall colors as she reflected. She always went over things seventy-nines ways or so as she began a hunt, once her feet hit the ground. This time, she found her thoughts hitting walls. There was a slim chance here, and that made this too personal. She recognized that the ideal outcome was long past unlikely, but it prevented her from becoming as clinical in her approach as she would normally be. That and the time of year prevented her from going about this the way that she'd have preferred. The best way to her mind would have been in the middle of summer. She'd have approached the island and circled it in a boat driven by someone else as she pretended to be sunbathing and looking with binoculars casually. With that done, she'd have come back and landed after dark to begin this a lot more coldly, taking it nearer and nearer to one end or another. None of that was possible now and besides, if the one in the book was living with the woman, that would have added thousands of complications. The line of thought raised one possibility that she wanted to consider least of all, though she'd thought of it. What if whoever this mystery werewolf had bitten the writer? She'd be facing two if this went badly. She shrugged. If there were two renegades here, she'd be forced to save herself since she was going in light for that. She'd seen something like that once before. It left less time for examination, and added to her body count. She found a few unexpected hitches on her arrival. For one thing, finding accommodation was easy. Finding accommodation with WiFi was something else again. The best that she could do was a place where she had to actually plug into their LAN. But any road will do, she thought. She was a little travel worn, but made the effort to seek out the wealth of tourist information available, and picked up a copy of Stan Beamish's book right there in the motel lobby. After eating a light dinner, she headed back to her room with maps of the area and spent the evening studying. The next day, she called on Stan at his office. It didn't take all that much to charm the man, and she left with her copy autographed and everything. She didn't really give a fig about that. He wasn't what one could call forthcoming in his answers about the co-author of the werewolf tale, but his evasiveness told her that she was very close. A trip to the local marina yielded charts of the lake and the channel. It being very near to the end of the season, she was able to rent a boat for the next day with ease and she headed to the local outfitters shop to do a bit of shopping. As she looked for some warm gear to keep herself from freezing, she stared at the goods and added a few things to her list to grab on her way out of town later in the week. She saw a few things that she thought would light up Dacia's face. The thought came to her that if this trail went cold, her next personal project would be to use some of her vacation time dragging her best friend someplace else on the globe, it didn't matter where. They always had a great time, and she was sure that Dacia had never been out of Romania in her life. With her purchases in the van, she headed for what passed as the shopping district in the little place. The customs were a little odd for buying oneself a bottle of wine, but she managed to find the one outlet there and in the drug store down the block, she had to smile to herself. Right next to the stand of sunglasses was a rack full of novels, and she picked up a new copy of the one that Dacia had recommended. Hers was dog-eared by now and the insides of both covers were covered in cryptic little notes in Romanian that she'd written while in Tenerife. She'd asked Beamish a few questions about the land registry office. Armed with his answers, she was on the road. Two hours later, Lia knew who had purchased the island. So much for the pen name, she thought as she headed back to the town for dinner. As she sat in the restaurant eating and poring over maps, a hopeful man stopped by her table trying to pick her up and, using the maps that he saw on the table as his opening. Lia listened to his pitiful attempt as he offered to "show her around" the area, and his questions about what she was looking for. She shrugged and answered him in Russian. Every time that he tried to speak, she replied in a different language. It was hard for her to keep a straight face, but after Italian, Greek, Romanian, German and Swedish and Spanish, she grew tired of it. He tried once more and she pointedly told him to fuck himself in Japanese. He still didn't get it, but he understood the tone and the look. She checked the local weather forecast and turned in. The next day dawned bright, clear, windy and cold. Lia was glad of her purchases then. ------------ It had been a week now. He sat on the ridge overlooking the crude steps to the dock. The weather had dawned bright and cold. He didn't mind it as much as he'd minded the distance which had opened up between himself and Elena when they were in the same room their last evening together. The issue of him biting her had risen once more. He knew that she had no idea what she was asking for. She kept calling it a gift that he was withholding from her. And after making a statement to that effect, she invariably followed it up with something along the lines of this after everything that she'd done for him. He thought about that a lot, and he always came up a little short to his way of looking at it. She'd bought the island and allowed him to live on it with her, she'd said. He smiled as he thought that it wasn't as if he wasn't here anyway, he'd been here for decades before she'd been born. The island had a different owner now, but it still wasn't him. He'd once thought of asking her what she'd do about it if she didn't "allow" him to live on it anymore. She'd bought him some clothes. That was nice, he realized, but he hadn't ever asked her to, and really, what was the purpose of that? Aside from two trips to the town, she'd never taken him there again or anywhere else for that matter in all of this time. The whole desire to be bitten had only surfaced within the last four months. He hadn't been off the island in over a year. At first he thought that perhaps he'd embarrassed her somehow, but then realized that he couldn't have, really. She'd told him to let her do all of the talking, so that's what he'd done. She sometimes made a big deal about having bought him some identification so that he could pass freely among the humans, making sure to tell him how much it had cost her to do it. He hadn't asked for this either, and anyway, he'd never gotten a chance to use it. If she needed anything in town, she went alone and never asked him to come along. The only thing that really bothered him a little was that she'd promised to teach him the ways of the modern world, but that hadn't happened. He'd asked a few times, but she'd told him that she was busy or she'd just put it off. Whatever her original intent, he still didn't know how to live the way that she did. He was still a prisoner on the island. Despite the success of her book, the only benefit that he saw from it was to her, since she now often went on book-signing appearance tours for her publisher. During those trips, he was left alone. The magical bank account that she'd spoken to him about had never materialized either. He hadn't said a thing about what his nose told him each time that she returned. She came back smelling of far more soaps and cosmetic smells than she did when she left. That didn't bother him originally the first time that he'd noticed it. He'd assumed that she would come back with the different scents from the places that she'd been. But she'd made an error then by almost dragging him to bed on her return each time, saying that she'd missed him so and now wanted to make up for lost time, make it up to him for being without her, she'd said. During those times, his nose told him what all of the baths, showers, soaps and cosmetics couldn't hide from the skin that he'd loved to smell -- anywhere on her. Only the passage of at least a day would hide the scent that he'd picked up under her jaw, even though she'd applied perfume there. She'd taken another male, and he'd had to play the worst acting game in pretending that he didn't know it. She'd wanted the wolfman every time she'd returned, but he was careful not to allow himself that. He didn't want to kill her over it. He thought about it for hours every time after she'd gone to sleep. More than once his tears had come to him, but he'd asked himself what he'd thought that he could have expected. The last time had been two days before, and it had planted the seeds for this argument, since he'd refused when she'd wanted to go to bed. He thought that he now knew what it was to be an unwanted pet. He did his best not to get caught up in the way that she often tried to bait him, but that invariably drove her to get angrier with him, he realized sadly. She couldn't see that it was this that pushed him away harder than anything. He could overlook most of everything here, he thought, but her dogged determination to win any misunderstanding now that he was in her bad graces was what hurt him the most because her belittlement of him was not long in coming afterward. He never mentioned how it felt to him that she now plainly regarded him to be stupid. He wondered about that. To him, it was stupid for her to forget that he could end her existence with one motion. But she likely supposed that he'd never be driven to do that, and in that aspect she'd be correct. He'd done something else. The final issue had been her telling him that the food that she provided was costly to her. He smirked now as he remembered that she'd said that while eating the potatoes and vegetables that he'd grown there. He'd stared for a second and then quietly told her that he was very sorry for everything. Helen had misinterpreted it to mean just the argument and she'd pounced on that. He'd actually meant that he was very sorry that he'd ever let her see him in the first place. He'd stood up and gathered a very few things while ignoring her - the few clothes that she'd bought for him the year before, the letters to and from Danaya, along with his old sawed-off shotgun and the shells. She'd protested at that, but he'd quietly said that they were his, unless she now wanted the clothes back. The gun was illegal anyway, he said. He was doing her a favor. What could the police do to him, after all? The letters were another matter, he'd said. He pointed out that she now made money from her tale of his unfortunate life, and he wanted the letters back. In that regard, he told her, she was no better than anyone else who'd taken what was his from him. She had no argument for that, and only stood there staring. "You want to be bitten because you think you would like to live longer," he'd said quietly, "it is not so much fun to live longer when you have to jump after mice and bite their heads off so that your stomach stops aching. Bears stink when they're living, and they're hard to kill sometimes. They are even less appealing when they are dead and you have to eat while covered in their blood." "And what am I to do when you get the idea to hunt something easier, like people? What am I supposed to do if you go mad and stay crazy? I have done this once already, protecting people from a crazy she-wolf. I cannot do it again. And for what? You told me many things, but I am still here and nothing has changed much for me while your life has gotten better." He'd regarded her a little bitterly, "Hornets do not ask me to stick myself into their nests. I sometimes get stung only passing by, but they hurt me less than your words. Why do you drive the people that you say you love away from you? I have seen you do many things that I might consider to be stupid, but I would never say it to someone who I love." She looked into his eyes and saw nothing there but regret. He'd just walked out into the night while she'd stood in the doorway saying that this was his solution for everything. She was wrong, of course, though she didn't get it right away. It was only his solution this one time. He'd turned then and spoke very quietly. She had to strain to hear him, but she heard it. "You have made almost all of the choices between us. You have told me how it will be, how it will be done, whatever the issue is. I have said nothing and done what you wanted. I will only tell you of your own stupidity once." Helen had almost walked to him then, wanting to take what sounded like a coming challenge that she'd argue down, but he'd finished his thought then and she was left with no wind in her sails. "You have been stupid coming to me, thinking to cover your guilt by mating with me. It is your choice, Elena. But if you have love for your new male, do not ever bring him here." He'd turned then and walked off into the night. It had taken a week, but then she'd walked all over the island calling to him and saying that she was sorry. He'd watched her from a distance. She wasn't as sorry as he was for all of this. He now kept his few clothes in a metal toolbox in the barn where the mice couldn't get at them and went back to hunting for himself. She hadn't seen him since, but he'd watched her leave seven days ago looking unhappy. They hadn't spoken in almost three weeks. He planned to make that permanent, now that he'd realized his error. He should have just never tried to get close enough to meet her that day on the beach. They'd have been fine if she'd never seen him. He supposed that even if she didn't return, there were a few things that he ought to do to prepare for the winter that he knew was just around the corner. This had to be one of the last good days. Soon the calendar would roll over into November, and that always brought days of icy cold rain and storms. A hell of a way to presage the snows that came right afterward, he thought. He'd need to scout out burrows again. He'd cleaned out the old cast iron stove in the back of the barn and had put up a few boards to give himself a small room. There was firewood cut and stacked inside, so after the hunters had come and gone, he could live in the barn in a bit of comfort, and if worse came to worst, he'd live as a beast once more. As he thought about everything, his attention was drawn to a speck out on the water. It didn't take him long to decide that it was a small boat out there, heading toward the island at a time of year when there was almost no one out on the water anymore. He wondered about it, since it was too small to be the wooden launch that Elena had bought the previous year, and the aluminum boat that had come with the sale of the island was right there below him, tied to the dock. The boat was still a long way off, but he had a sense that he might want to be more discreet in his observation of it. Making no sudden or large moves, he drew away from the ridge to stand inside a grove of saplings that afforded him much the same view as the edge, but provided a lot more cover. Lia reached into her pocket for the compact set of binoculars that she'd bought and scanned the island. She knew that she'd probably see nothing much as she approached. The maps and satellite photos had shown the house to be set far back from the dock and likely it wouldn't be visible anyway. A quick look told her that she'd been right. She put them away and concentrated on keeping the cold wind from freezing her ears off. As she neared the dock, she throttled back and glided along the channel side of the dock to tie up. Ion had watched her approach with rising concern. He wasn't sure how to handle this. He saw the slender woman in the bomber jacket wearing mirror aviation sunglasses and had even noted in passing that she had nice legs in those jeans. He wondered why she'd come. There were no other islands on this side of the channel, and the others were almost a mile away on the other side of it. He thought that he could maybe just handle this dressed as he was until she set her pack down on the dock. Just an Old Legend Ch. 10 There was a long black webbed case there beside the pack, a little over two feet long. That itself hadn't caused him to stare so much as the way that she pulled back the top of it and began to strap it onto her back after moving her braid out of the way. He suddenly knew that there was a fair amount of silver there. He could sense it. It didn't take him long to see that there was a short sword in the case as she strapped it on so that the haft stuck up just above her shoulder before she put the backpack on overtop. By the time that Lia had her GPS turned on and was ready to climb the steps, he was just inside the closed doors of the barn. He thought about it quickly. If she were here, Elena would scoff at him for being alarmed over nothing. But he'd been on his own here and hadn't survived all of this time by being as stupid as she seemed to think he was. Something was very wrong here to him. Who carries a silver sword? He'd never seen one, but there was just no untoward plausible reason to. The woman also exuded confidence by her motions. The way that she moved told him that she was no lost hiker looking to tramp over the island. He wasn't afraid, but he was very curious now that he'd decided what her purpose might be, though it made no sense to him. It was inexplicable, but to him it looked as though he was about to be hunted. It had happened before, and other than the inconvenience, it wasn't that much of an event unless somebody got stupid. But all of the other times, the hunters were after natural game and tended to get a little bit trigger-happy. For the most part, they were easy to elude. But this one looked to him as though she knew exactly what kind of game she was after with that sword. He latched the door, and snatched up the old shotgun. There had never been any glass windows installed in the old barn - he'd never seen the need and hadn't had money for that anyway back then. There were just neat, framed openings with shutters. With quick, silent motions, he opened the shutters to the windows on the side where he could see the house. There was only one window on the other side, and he left this unlatched, but closed. He turned to watch her approach, standing well back in the shadows. Lia walked up the worn path slowly as she looked around. She was really here to meet the writer if possible. If the subject of the book was really here, she needed to be sure that he was sane and had truly adjusted to life here. The book - if it was to be believed - had indicated this, but in her occupation, one just never knew and it paid to be as prepared as possible. The blades had been a last-minute order to a blademaker that she knew and trusted on this side of the ocean, and he'd had them couriered to the address that she'd given him the second that she was in her motel room. He was a small, one-man show, but he was one of the best, and always kept certain items in stock for her call. He charged her a bucketful of money every time, but she was always pleased and said so. The smells that came to her nose were nothing much out of the ordinary, and the cold temperature and wind weren't helping. She was trying to get a sense of occupation. She reasoned that she ought to be able to pick up the scent of the woman who lived here. What she got was nothing definitive or recent. Her ears picked up rustling leaves now and then, but it was the time of year for the deciduous trees to shed, so that was another nothing to her, unless something disturbed them while the wind was down momentarily. She came to a bend in the path and slowed even more. She could see that the house was just around it, so she stepped into the edge of the woods and walked quietly to where she could observe for a while. The building looked to be built at least half on rock, the front half on pilings, so anyone walking inside ought to transmit at least a little sound. There was no apparent activity, and nothing coming from the chimney. She found that a little odd. On an island like this, and this far back from shore, it was unlikely to be heated with propane or oil. The piles of firewood there told her that it had to be heated with wood and she was looking at a woodstove chimney, so that made sense, but why not use it today when it was cold enough to warrant it? She saw no activity, and heard nothing. The aluminum boat tied up at the dock had contained quite a lot of the brightly-colored leaves that the trees were now dumping in it, so that told her that it likely hadn't been used for a time. Why not? Putting that together with what she now saw and the lack of recent human smells, she wondered about it. The book had led her to believe that the woman in it lived on the island. The details in the book jingled too many bells to be the likely product of complete fantasy to her mind. It pointed to two possibilities - if the book hadn't been a total fabrication. Either the woman was not now living here because she'd left for the winter, or she wasn't living here because she wasn't alive. Lia looked around for a way to approach the building under some cover, but saw that it wasn't possible, so she stepped out of the woods and back onto the path. She needed a better picture, and her nose was the tool for that. It couldn't be helped. He saw her walk into sight far too cautiously to be a misdirected tourist, hiker, or sightseer. Every alarm bell in his brain began to clang when she got to the path and did something that he'd never seen even a hunter do here. She slowly began to crouch down and placed her hands on the path. With a look around, she turned back to the house and sank even farther down. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise as he watched her bring her pretty nose to the ground and sniff. He tried to remember the last time that he'd used the path. More than ten days came to his mind, and it had rained since. He smiled at that, but knew that she'd find something pretty soon. He knew that he would if it were him out there. Lia still got nothing recent from the path and stood up quickly to walk up and climb the steps. She stood at the door and knocked a couple of times quietly. She called Helen's name cautiously once and he heard that, wondering. Lia thought about picking the lock, but decided against it. Her nose on the door told her that no one had been here lately either. There was a barely discernible smell of two individuals here, but they were old scents. He liked the fact that he had some advantages here on his home field, but the fact that at this latitude, the season and time of day placed her face in shadow bothered him a little. He wanted to at least get a clear look at her face. She walked down the steps without a sound, her back to him now. He noted that. Anyone else would have just walked down, but he'd seen her go carefully. His curiosity was piqued now. He got something of an answer when she stepped under the deck at the corner of the building and peered carefully around the corner. She didn't know it, but he had a perfect view of her next actions as she now definitely picked up his scent from the ground there. Lia froze as the receptors in her nose went wild. So the place wasn't deserted after all. She now knew that he was here somewhere, and that he wasn't human. She stood up and thought it over. She'd come with a very faint hope, but was prepared for the worst. This one might not be the individual that she had in mind. He could be another that had been turned long ago since. Had he killed the writer? Had the fool learned too late that she'd been living with a bomb all of this time? She obviously couldn't be sure of that, but... She looked around, and tried to put herself in his place. She felt certain of one thing if it were her who lived on this island alone. She'd be looking at this spot right now and watching. Her nose had informed her that her quarry was definitely male. It called a specific set of details to her mind. There were strengths which each gender possessed as advantages. And, she smirked to herself, there were weaknesses to be exploited for the very same reasons. Just like humans, werewolf males were stronger, given two equally-sized individuals of either gender. That was just the way of it. Females were usually, though not always craftier. Since she hadn't found any tracks yet, she didn't know how large he might be, but she'd been at this game for over half a century now. She killed at minimum, one renegade per year, but usually had better years. She'd killed well over a hundred now, and this year looked like it was going to be a banner year for her record. She pushed a sad possibility out of her mind. She knew the odds. This might just turn out to be a regular business trip for her after all. Lia was aware of an old ploy that female assassins had always used to their advantage. She'd used it herself on occasion. You could always get at least a split-second of hesitation out of almost any male opponent if you dangled some femininity before them. For her, that split-second was plenty. There was no one around here anyway, other than the two of them. She might as well enjoy not being encumbered with noisy clothing and hunt like it was life or death, since that was pretty much what it was starting to look like it could come down to here, though not for her. She set down her pack. He may as well get a look at who he was facing, she thought, as she removed her sunglasses. His eyes opened wide while he watched her shed her human clothing and stand there as a proud huntress on two legs as her black fur came in. A she-wolf with a long braid. Well it was different, he mused. He'd been bothered about that braid somehow, but now saw that his opponent was many things besides a beautiful human woman. She was just like him. He smiled to himself as he shook off the distraction. He knew exactly what she was doing and why. He almost chuckled out loud as he realized that it was working, too. Well, he thought, if this was how the match was to be played, he'd better retain the same edge. He set down the gun and took off the clothing that would place him at a disadvantage now. When he picked the shotgun up again, he drew a deep breath and smiled. The day was looking far better to him now that he had something to hunt as well. Just an Old Legend Ch. 11 This was an interesting bit to write. I mean, I created the arena that I wanted in the island and I put these two on it at a time of year and in circumstances that would pretty much guarantee that they could hunt in a natural state for them. I even gave them wind and rustling fall leaves to make it different. But until I got them here in this arena, I wasn't sure about how it ought to go. Anyway, I really hope this reads properly. I've read it through far too many times to maintain objectivity. A lot of coffee went into this chapter. o_O --------------- He looked around the inside of the barn and saw something that would be perfect for what he had in mind there on the ground. A horseshoe. He stepped back to where he'd been and watched as she set her clothing down and placed her knapsack on top. The sword was returned to her back as she strapped the scabbard on again. Then he saw her strap a sheath onto her left thigh after she'd taken a few seconds to carefully look around before squatting down to urinate quickly, as though she didn't want to be carrying the slight weight of that around. She covered the spot with dirt swept by her foot, and then tightened the straps on the sheath. A dagger and a sword, he noted, both with rubber hafts to keep the silver from her skin. So there was high silver content there, he thought. Silver was a terrible weapon material by itself, having little strength, but if it were alloyed properly or if it were plated on, that would be a different story. He somehow knew that this was an alloy. That was what he'd have wanted if he'd had a say in how it had been forged for him. He was sure that she was doing this for his benefit, but wasn't certain of what she was trying to convey. Either she thought he was stupid and wouldn't now be watching her from someplace, or she was like him, and was certain that he would be watching. Was he supposed to be losing confidence in himself seeing her weapons? Was this display supposed to tell him that his time was up or something? All that it told him was that she was right-handed, but he did enjoy the show, he thought. He watched her disappear out of his view as she walked around the building. He felt something of a primal urge, and brushed it aside to do nothing and keep watching. It took only ten minutes, but he saw her come around the other side, looking carefully about in a tense way. He almost laughed out loud now. He knew that game perfectly, though he'd never played it. He was supposed to have been drawn to where she'd urinated to sniff to see if she might be receptive. He was grinning now, enjoying it. He'd get her scent anyway soon enough. Lia had assumed that he'd been watching. That he hadn't run right over to smell told her that this one was many levels higher than a newly-turned individual. Well that was fine, she thought. She'd have been disappointed if this turned into a quick kill. She looked around and went low. The ground told her which way to go, and it made sense. She headed cautiously toward the barn. Standing now near one of the front corners, she could see the large door and down along one side. The open windows told her quite a bit. If he was inside, he'd more than likely seen everything up to this point. That was good too. She approached the door. He saw the changes in the light coming in under the edge of the door as she came close to it and watched the shadow deepen, moving back and forth. The sounds of her careful snuffling came to his ears. She'd realize that he was here in just another second. The door was very slowly pulled back, just enough to tell her that it wouldn't open because it was latched from the inside. Lia stepped back to where she'd been. A quick look around the other side told her of only one window there, and it was closed. Back where she could look down the other side and also see the door, she stood ready. He was inside, she was absolutely certain of it. "Come out of there," she said. Her answer was the stiff breeze ruffling her fur. "Look," she said, "just come out. There's no point to hiding in there. I'll just rip the door off and then we can begin it if you wish. I'm not here to hurt you, unless you force me to." Of course, he thought to himself with a smile, I'll just come out and we can be instant friends. Me with the hope of mating, and you with the silver sword and dagger. Doesn't every wolf-girl carry those things if she's hoping for a little romance? He moved just a little sideways to allow himself just a moment to admire her form through a thin gap between the planks of the heavy door from well back so that she couldn't see the motion. He shook his head. Why did she have to be so lovely? The way that she'd come here made no sense to him. Why would any werewolf come here for him? The weapons told him more than he needed to know, but why a female werewolf would come to hunt him made no sense at all. He almost sighed as he prepared himself. He hefted the horseshoe for a moment to get the balance of it and thought back to the horse that he'd bought it for. That had been a crying shame that he still blamed himself for. He'd never owned a horse before, all by himself. That one had been perfect - friendly, strong and healthy, almost impatient to be hitched up for some work. He'd had a hell of a time getting the animal onto the island, but once there, they'd gotten a lot of work done in no time, he remembered. They'd both enjoyed every minute of it. And then Danaya had come. She'd ripped the poor fellow apart the same way that she'd torn up everything else in his life. To a man who'd known only farming, he felt that he also bore some guilt for the death of his cattle. The loss of the horse had been far worse because they'd gotten along so well, but he couldn't have foreseen what she'd do while he was off working to get money for the things that he'd need to keep her from killing people. It still bothered him, he realized. He told himself that he should have known and just set the horse free, but he knew that she'd have found him anyway. It was an island, after all. He calmed himself, listening for his visitor's next move. She'd force this in only another second or so. "Have it your way then," she said as she stepped to grab the edge of the door. The shutters of the closed window exploded outward off their old hinges, and Lia jumped and ran to the far corner of the building, hearing the crashing through the dead leaves receding through the trees on that side. When she got there, she saw nothing. "Fair enough," she said quietly with a grin, and followed at a run. He jumped through the open window on the other side, hit the trunk of the tree outside, and watched her run off from where he stood now on the roof. He'd smashed out the shutters and thrown the horseshoe. She was chasing the sounds of the horseshoe as it tumbled through the brush for a few seconds. He was satisfied that she'd fallen for the ruse, but was now even more puzzled. He'd heard her clearly, and the last phrase had been spoken in Romanian. He jumped down and went off in the other direction. Lia stopped, and stepped forward. She was looking at a horseshoe, half buried under a few dried leaves. She picked it up and walked back to the barn, laughing at herself now. Her nose told her where he'd landed as she climbed inside through the window that he'd left by. So this wasn't going to be a simple hunt for a half-crazed fool, she thought. She stood there a moment and then went to unlatch the doors and push them open wide for some light. If he spent any time in here, she wanted now to get a better sense of her quarry. She looked around and thought of the builder and who he might have been, but shook her head. She wasn't here for that anymore, she thought, but then she stopped. Maybe, she thought. It was still a possibility. Her approach with her challenge had sometimes brought hiding males out almost following their erect organs, as ridiculous as it was, with them doing their best to charm the visiting wolf-girl. She never, ever showed any sign that she wanted to mate or was even the least bit receptive, they'd just always assumed it. The worst were the old ones who'd lived outside since they were turned. Many years of living the hard way usually turned werewolves into nasty-looking things. The more usual response was a furious one, the actual door crashing outward. Those ones had always ended after a quick fight. Only a very few had done something else, and none had just tried to cover their escape with a ruse. It was as though he didn't want to hurt her or something, and had only wanted to get away. But there was something missing here for that to be plausible. She sniffed around and was certain. This one wasn't the least bit afraid. The ones who'd run from her had always been afraid because of her confident approach and the silver, if they could sense it. She could pick up their fear in the smells that they'd left behind. Their uncertainty had always turned to fear. She sniffed again and realized that she was up against a whole new animal. There was something here that set her back on her heels a little bit in wonder, and raised a possibility of something that she'd never encountered before in all her long years as a huntress. He wasn't afraid of anything. Was this just a game to him? Her chasing after the horseshoe had given him the time that he'd needed. A quick sniff at the dirt told him that he'd been correct - she wasn't in season, not even close to it. Though he'd only spent a little time with one, he knew that female werewolves come into heat just like the wolves, but unlike real wolves, they also had as much freedom to mate as a human woman would. He got much more from the quick look inside her pack, and with her clothes there as well, he now had her scent. He moved quickly, but made no sound as he tried to give himself a little space. Once in the cover of the trees, he ran quickly, but made hardly a sound, avoiding the dried leaves as best he could. He needed to ditch everything that he was carrying. He'd been hunted by men with rifles, shotguns, hunting bows, snares, traps, and even dogs. He snorted, now even werewolves wanted him dead. Nothing surprised him anymore. So now he would be hunted by one of his own kind using silver. Everything else had been taken from him. Now someone was after the last thing that he had left. Whoever she was, she obviously knew her business and coming here like this just stated what was plain to him. She was after his life. Well that was fine too. Since she was a werewolf, he could play this for keeps, since he wouldn't have to worry about the police coming to search for anyone. For her sake, he hoped that she could run. He was enjoying this, he realized. Lia stood there inside the barn, still trying to get herself into his mind and how he'd think. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a small stone hitting the back of the barn. She glanced at the wall. There was daylight coming through the spaces there. When the place had been built, the planks had been nailed tightly together. After so long, the old wood had naturally shrunk a little. She began to step over to the wall. "Hey," she heard him call to her in accented English, "Aren't you being a bit rude here? How would you like it if I came to visit you with weapons and threatened to tear off the door to your home? Would that be alright with you? Would you like it if I went through your things while you were gone?" She placed her eye to the wood and peered as her jaw dropped. He stood on the small rock ridge above her there, not a hundred feet away. She couldn't believe what she was looking at. He was massive and God, he was put together well. He turned sideways and walked slowly along the crest of the ridge looking in her direction. It gave her a view of his heavily muscled chest and arms. His fur shone as the wind blew it a little, but it couldn't hide the reserves of power in those muscles and fur-covered sinews. She's never seen body language such as this when she hunted. There was no tension in him, only complete ease in his readiness. She'd seen pretty much everything in her time as a huntress, every unconscious sign of uncertainty - and all of it was missing in this one. The alarm bells in Lia's head were going off like a fire alarm. This was all wrong. No tension, no fear, she thought. She looked hard for the signs again and came up empty. There was no macho here, placed to cover uncertainty or foolhardiness. He knew that he was being hunted. By now he'd figured it out and he must have sensed the silver. There was absolutely no bullshit here, she thought. He was the real deal and none of this bothered him beyond what he saw as an affront in her poking around in his personal belongings. It was obvious that he knew something of what he was facing. He just accepted it and was prepared to deal with it. She snorted quietly to herself when it came to her, the perfect definition for this attitude. What he gave off wasn't even what she could call confidence. It was more a sense of certainty. "I can see you through the cracks too, you know," he said quietly with a half-smile, "you really should step back a bit." The eyes there watched her as he walked without worrying about a misstep. In spite of herself and her reasons for being cautious, she knew that he could get to her. She'd never seen any wolf-man like him. She doubted the story in the novel now. This couldn't be the one in that book, could it? He had been here this long, lived in the wild and was still at his peak? Those were most definitely not the eyes of an insane werewolf, she realized, as she saw the late autumn's weak sunshine on his fur. He might not be a human woman's kettle of fish when he was like this, she thought, but to a female of her kind, he was like a god to look at. He dipped for a second and came back up with an arm motion that the gap in the wood didn't allow her to follow. She heard the faint hiss plainly though, and ducked as a rock almost the size of her head crashed through the tired old plank where her face had been only a moment before. Lia revised her estimation. Those were the eyes of an annoyed werewolf, she decided. "I warned you to step back. I do not give warnings often and I would still like an answer," he said calmly, "or do you think that carrying your silver toys allows you to be this rude? Your silence only reflects badly on the way that you were raised." "Come down here," she called to him as she stepped back, trying to decide which way to run for some space if she had to, "and we can discuss my manners. You can instruct me where I go wrong." There was no reply. She walked around the corner of the barn to see his back as he walked off the far side of the little ridge. She almost ran straight up the sloping rock face, a little off to the side, and only needed to use an arm to grab a root once. Unless he'd been running, he was now an impossible distance away as he walked without looking back. The ground was too rocky for her to run very quickly. She smiled as she held up the horseshoe. She'd never seen a large male yet who could resist a direct challenge by a female. It was one of their weaknesses. "Hey Handsome!" she called out as she threw it hard, hoping that he'd turn around. He did, but he turned far too soon and moved his head aside effortlessly as the horseshoe rang off the boulder behind him. He smiled genuinely, "Not bad." Lia was surprised at how his simple praise warmed her vaguely. It made her smile back at him. "Thank you," she grinned with a mock curtsy, "now we're even." He chuckled with a nod, "Maybe you should not warn me anymore either." With a soft laugh over his shoulder, he was gone into the field of corn. When she'd gotten to the spot, she had no trouble finding his footprints and followed carefully. She was sure she'd heard his tone correctly. He wasn't laughing at her. She felt that clearly. She felt a thrill of uncertainty as she thought about it. To a regular male who was not overly frightened, what she'd done would have brought him storming back at her, full of attitude. His attitude was an indicator that hunting him would plainly take her into new territory. She'd never hunted someone like him. He was having fun. She went for a little distance and then stopped to listen. All that came to her was the wind among the dried stalks. She went on again, but now heard rustling coming from her right, a lot of rustling. She turned and wondered if there was a herd of cattle coming at her. This was far too much noise for even someone as large as he was to be able to make. Could it be that there were more of him somehow? Was there a pack here? It might explain his sleek and healthy condition. But since there had been no reports of killings in the area over the Kaze feeds which scanned the news wires of the world looking for just that, she knew that it was unlikely. The noise came closer at a fast pace and she could even hear the sounds of feet and between the tops of the stalks she could see the ones a bit farther off being bent down. Lia reached over her shoulder and drew her sword as she tensed, but had no idea what this was. It stopped just a few feet off. The only sound now was the wind through the stalks again. She stepped forward cautiously. There was nothing there now. She was about to examine the ground, but heard the sound now coming from farther off and receding. She wanted to jump up to see if there was anything visible, but then heard the sound coming back at her from a different direction now. She waited with the sword in a two-handed grip. Again, the commotion stopped abruptly just in front of her. The wind had died off for the moment, and though she listened hard, she couldn't pick anything up. Then the wind began again and she heard the stalks moving with it. She was about to relax, but saw something there - or thought that she did. She took a pace and swung anyway, in a blindingly fast horizontal slash before her. The dried cornstalks gave way to her blade until it rang against something hard and metallic. It was a signpost, a metal signpost with a white enamel-painted sign facing away from her. The sign now wore a gash halfway through its middle, and peering to look, she read 'NO TRESSPASSING - NO HUNTING'. The stroke had been stopped by the post itself. The noise in the stalks had come from his carrying the post sideways through the cornstalks until he'd quietly forced it into the ground in front of her. As Lia examined the edge of her blade for damage, she heard the soft laughter from behind her a way off and receding. Lia walked the other way. She didn't like this so far. She was much more used to calling the shots in her hunts. She had the distinct impression that he was the one doing that in this place. She needed to gain the initiative and then some momentum. With that in hand, she could force him onto the defensive - where he ought to be, running for his life and making mistakes. She ran out of the corn and began to turn to come around the field, but stopped for a moment. She could hear him coming through the corn directly toward her. She dashed away with a quiet laugh, and hoped that he'd be curious. Out in the clear, she lengthened her stride. Lia wanted to open some space between them, but not too much. A quick look over her shoulder and she was almost disappointed for a moment, but then the cornstalks parted and he came after her. She laughed out loud while she had the breath, and poured on the coals as she made for the trees a hundred yards away. She had to reach them. Once inside, she'd turn and they'd see what was what. Just an Old Legend Ch. 11 That plan evaporated as another quick glance showed him gaining fast. She couldn't believe how he could run. He hadn't even changed into the pure wolf form for the speed as she'd hoped he would. She'd been counting on that, since it ought to give her an advantage in mental horsepower. She made the trees and hid for a moment beneath the bushy lower boughs of an evergreen to get some wind back. A second later, he flew right past and kept going. Lia smiled and shifted position. The aromatic needles would cover her scent and she'd just wait for him to backtrack. But he didn't do that. Ten minutes later, Lia began to follow him. The trail led her to a rocky depression near the shore. His scent just vanished. She looked everywhere, even up in the trees, but came up empty. It was as if he'd just jumped into a hole and was gone. She got her nose down to recheck. There was a faint trail on the rock. It led her to a pool right at the shoreline. The pool opened outward behind some branches toward the channel. Had he just swum away? She crouched and peered through the branches. The water here was calmer than outside, but it still bore the ripples of the autumn wind. She wondered where he could go if he'd jumped in here to swim away. She looked down into the darkness there. After a second, she thought she could see two slightly brighter narrow lines. Lia leaned down just a little to see if they were only reflections and felt the sharp point and gentle burn of silver just touch her under her topmost breasts. Her eyes opened wide in realization, but she knew that it was already too late. If he pressed hard, she'd be skewered. Lia jumped backward as he shot upward out of the water. She landed hard on her backside twelve feet away. He tore off the way that they'd come. Scrambling to her feet, she ran after him. As he ran, he changed to human form to shed the weight of the water in his fur, and then changed back through the wolf-man to the wolf. He didn't even miss a step and just accelerated away. Lia realized that she had no chance to catch him now even if she followed suit and changed form. She slowed to a stop. She chuckled anyway about a couple of things. That she was still alive was the big one. If he'd really wanted to, he could have killed her easily. That he hadn't killed her just reinforced her idea that he was in this potentially deadly game for the fun of it. The second thing made her grin. For just a second, she'd had a perfect view that had made her failed attempt worthwhile. She thought he had the nicest ass that she'd ever seen on a male werewolf anywhere. ----------------- They played this all day. Lia would try to gain control of the game, and he'd take it back sooner or later. She was growing raggedly tired, but whenever she started to flag, he would somehow appear tantalizingly nearby for just a second. He didn't do it every time, but he seemed to know just when to laugh or chuckle quietly. It always got her blood up and she'd be back in the game once more. She realized a several things from it. He appeared to be able to do this forever. He made it look effortless and showed no sign of getting weary before sometime next week. The one time that she'd caught him in trees, he'd simply knocked one flat between them, tore out a smaller one before she could blink, threw it at her with a grin and was gone as though it was nothing to him while she'd had to dodge it. So her earlier estimation of his power from what she'd seen of his build had been incorrect. He was far stronger than that. Though he'd always laughed good-naturedly if she was on top, she knew that if it ever came down to a last-ditch effort on his part, he'd be a murderous opponent. Finally, the last thing made her grin and shake her head in open admiration. She was having a really great time chasing him. There were usually about twenty Kaze hunters at any one time. Lia was by far the best of them and he was making her look like a fool with ease. She knew that he'd have some home-field advantage, but even if she allowed for that, he was plainly giving her the most challenging hunt of her life. She looked down and stopped for a moment. What the hell would she do if she actually cornered him with no possibility of escape for him? Males always went down fighting if they were not complete cowards. It was rare, but she'd been in some fights that had torn her up pretty badly before she got the upper hand or they'd made their final mistake. He hadn't made any yet, and she wondered if he could be brought down at all. It might take all twenty of them, and she'd still be hesitant to give great odds of their success after what she'd seen today. Before she could really begin to chew on that, to her slight surprise, she came upon her own footprints walking toward herself, and there next to them were his footprints leading away. She began to follow and turned off when he had. It led her to a flat stone surface on the top of a rock outcropping. There were some old evergreen trees around it like sort of a tree ring with two entrances. She could see the water beyond that, and just past the crest of the rock, she saw the top of a dark shape. She crouched and walked cautiously forward. Thoroughly on edge now, she took her time and was careful not to look directly at the shape. If this was her quarry, she didn't want him to sense her glance on him. Another few slow steps and she wanted to curse. There on the rock before her sat her knapsack. She looked around, and waited a full minute until she was sure that she was alone. Finally, she stepped over and snatched it up in disgust. The now-missing weight of the knapsack allowed the thin rope underneath to slide away to the side and disappear out of sight. Lia jumped back, clutching her pack - right into the path of the old broken piece of tree trunk which now came swinging at her. She wound up on her ass. She sprang up and grabbed the pack and her sword with lightning-fast motions. This was going from bad to worse to just awful. She couldn't believe that she'd fallen for something as simple as this. Though she stood ready, there was no threat, - nothing coming at her. If she'd put something like this together, she'd have followed it up with a second surprise to complete the confusion before stepping in for the fight against a disoriented opponent. There was nothing at all here that she could see. She was disgusted with herself. She felt even more disgust at herself when she noticed him standing there, leaning with his right shoulder against the trunk of a tree with a soft friendly smile. She stopped and glared at him across the space of perhaps twenty feet. She set her pack down and held the sword in a two --handed grip. At least he wasn't laughing. If she had set an opponent up this way, she'd have made sure to laugh just to goad them. He just looked surprisingly relaxed and wasn't even giving her a hint of the satisfaction that she'd have felt if their roles were reversed. Lia stared at him. He was a beast. All that she could see was serious muscle wherever her glance went on him. He was completely relaxed, but his build and obviously great condition told her that silver sword or not, this fight -- whenever it happened -- was going to be a cast iron bitch. Her own strength and condition might slow him -- just maybe -- but if anything could get her through, it was going to have to be her speed and technique. She willed herself to be still and forced her rage down deep. She had to gain some control over this situation. Putting just a little sad honey into her voice, she asked him if he was satisfied now. He still smiled, but shook his head. "No. There can be no satisfaction for the one who is hunted. At best, the hunted one survives. But I have enjoyed the chase. I had the chance several times, but my respect and my curiosity would not allow me to kill you any more than why you did not press the advantage against me the times when you had it." He bowed his head to her very slightly while keeping his eyes on her as a precaution. "I admire your courage and persistence." Lia was surprised by his civility and obvious respect. She even felt a little charmed by the open smile that he'd said it with. The smile faded only a little as he added, "By the way, I do not consider that either of us has won the game yet. " There he'd said it. He'd confirmed what Lia had wondered all along. Though she'd come prepared to kill an adversary if she had to, with all of the weapons that she'd need to kill that adversary six ways from Sunday in any of perhaps twelve different proven approaches ... He'd only been playing with her, and had likely been in complete charge of this despite what he'd just said to the contrary. He tilted his head, "I wonder who this beautiful she-wolf is who comes here for me. I just live quietly here alone. Now I have a werewolf after me, one who by her weapons and skill shows me that she is experienced at hunting what we are." "Do we hunt each other as trophies now? I would like to know what I have done to deserve this attention though I have to thank you for this. I have enjoyed it so much. I would even like to play it the other way around with you, but I guess that you are not here to play at all by the way that you look at me. Would you please tell me why? " Lia didn't relax a muscle. She was prepared now for anything, but she smiled a little coldly, "I guess first off, I'd like to know where Ms. Helen Patterson is, the author who wrote the book about you." She heard one quiet chuckle from him, "You speak as though you are not the one with a sore backside here." He shook his head a bit sadly, "I asked you a question first, and all that I get is an angry question from you in return. If you keep going this way, I will only begin the game again, and this time, I will play it a lot harder. We will see how the huntress feels as she runs for her life." He stepped away from the tree and brought his right hand out from behind it. Lia stared at the shotgun's double muzzles rising to settle in a steady point at her chest. "The one from the book," he said with a bright smile, "It's as though the little story springs to life before you, isn't it?" The smile disappeared, though he maintained a slightly friendly expression. "To answer you and, I hope, begin a civilized conversation, I do not know where Elena is. I think she is off signing copies of her cursed book somewhere. She left a week ago in her wooden launch. We have not spoken for three weeks now." Lia tilted her head, "Why?" "Why what?" he asked, "What are you asking me, why we haven't spoken or why she left? She left to make more money from my life. We haven't spoken because I no longer wish to speak to her. Why are you asking this?" "I came to make sure that she was alright, -" "Ah," he said, interrupting as his friendly expression faded, "you want to make sure that I have not killed her. You - a werewolf yourself, and you care about her while you hunt me?" He laughed, "This gets better as it goes along. I would not hurt her in any way. I only want her to leave me alone." He looked her up and down, perhaps sizing her up as though he might have missed something, puzzled why one of their kind would hunt another. "So, you are here for her welfare? I heard your comment when you thought that you were alone. You spoke limba română. You have come a long way. It is quite a journey for only the welfare of a writer who has never been to Romania." His left hand let go of the shotgun to flick out and back, and there was a flash of silver in the air between them. Lia dodged a bit as a throwing knife thudded into the tree behind her at about the height of her heart. She looked back as the thin rubber covered haft of it vibrated there and she groaned. It was one of hers. "You know then that I have four more like this," he smiled, "You have such well-made toys. At the barn, you said that you are not here to hurt me -- yet you are armed with weapons such as these. Can we please come at last to my questions? I now want some answers that make sense." He was right, she realized. Beside anything else here, she'd been rude. "Of course," she nodded as she tried to sound professional, "Please let me apologize for my rudeness and also for asking about her before asking about you. I needed to know if she was alive or if you had killed her. It changes things." "What does it change?" he asked. "You hunt me like this without knowing if she is alive. If you found her dead, it would make you, ... chase me harder? You make little sense," She shook her head, "Her being alive or not is only a condition, a signpost for me. What is most important, ... I came here to see if you were sane and if you were, I hoped to find you well-adjusted here." He snorted, "Sanity. What good is it if what I think does not fit the madness that my life has been? You are sane only if you fit to what you perceive. Look around you and imagine yourself here with what has happened to me. There is no sanity here in the winter when the wind screams and there is nothing to eat and nowhere to go. I rub snow on my skin to scrub off my stink because I cannot bathe, and then I shiver in a hole in the frozen dirt and hope to sleep. What good is it to be sane then?" "And look how well I am adjusted, as you say. I am always being adjusted, even if I don't want it. My life here has been a grand and never-ending ball of dancing and laughter. You have read her book, no?" Lia nodded, hoping vaguely. She found herself holding her breath as he exhaled heavily. She tried to see if he was giving her an unwitting opening, but the dark bores at the end of the shotgun didn't move a hairsbreadth in his fur-covered hand. The muzzles hung there in the air waiting. "Well then I can say that it is much as it was, my life here. Except for the ending. The book has a happy ending. For Elena." "My life has only more of the same long pain for me. I came to farm and make a home. My wife adjusted my life by killing my cattle and my workhorse. I worked like a dog for money to buy silver and this gun to keep her from hunting people. She adjusted me with her bite. The men around here adjusted my land and my home away from me since I could not tell them what had happened. Who would believe me? I was so adjusted that I ate mice and bears and even a skunk in my happiness and joy. Then Elena came and adjusted me again." "The only adjustment that I want is to be left alone, since I cannot go anywhere else but this prison. Now you come here with weapons and talk foolishness about NOT wanting to kill me." He shook his head slowly. "My face hurts with all this happy laughing." His expression changed and Lia could see that it showed just a hint of sorrow, "How sad is my life that being chased now by a lovely wolf-girl with a silver sword is the most enjoyable day that I have spent in over seventy years?" He chuckled, "You thought I was going to run out and sniff where you made water?" His laugh suddenly turned bitter, "Females of any sort have brought me only pain in one way or another. I have no use for more pain. I have no use for anyone anymore. I trust no one. Elena kept me as a pet or something. She thinks that I am stupid. With her last breath, my wife told me that I am a fool." His smile turned inwardly bitter as he looked down just a little. "I must be one, I think. Everyone else cannot be wrong." Neither of them spoke for a minute as the wind blew coldly. Lia found her desire to exploit any chance fading from her. Whoever this was, she thought, here was one whose heart felt the same cold wind that chilled her own and she knew that for him, just as for her -- that wind never ever stopped. It might drop off a little for a time, but it was always there. His voice softened to a sad and quiet tone, "So please, ... tell me now, ... am I adjusted enough for why you came here?" Lia found that she had no words for him as she felt her shoulders slump slightly. If wild and solitary werewolves were sane when discovered, it was usually a joyous meeting. It wasn't supposed to go like this. His eyes suddenly burned brightly as he looked at her with defiance. "You say one thing, but your sword there says something else to me. If it is really what you came here to do, then do what my wife and Elena have never done and just speak the truth to me. I deserve that at the least. Be honest and tell me that you have come to kill me." He looked away for a moment in obvious pain, fighting to maintain his composure when clearly he wanted to do something else which would show how he really felt deep inside. His gaze came to her again, and he spoke through his teeth, struggling to keep the sob that he felt from escaping. "Say it now so that a fool like me can understand it plainly. If you do that, maybe I will let you make the last adjustment to me with your sword now. You can go back to your home with your trophy. I am so tired of being this happy." Her eyes narrowed their focus to the single tear that rolled from his cheek. His next blink would send two more Lia was torn. She now knew what she'd wanted to find out, she was almost certain of it. Yet he was so bitter that his glare felt almost like a slap. She found that she had no rage left anymore. He hadn't meant what he'd done to belittle her. He'd done it to force a pause in the hunt so that they might speak to each other. She suddenly felt only profound sadness. "I've gotten this all wrong," she said a little distantly, "I came here for several reasons. I am afraid now that you won't even listen to me if I try to explain the other ones to you because of how badly I started this. I found nothing recent about this woman, and I just assumed the worst. That is usually how I find that these things have gone. But you aren't like the others that I often find. You're very different." He watched as she sheathed the sword and stepped away from her pack. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I want you to know that I enjoyed this game as much as you did, and I want to talk with you about that later, if we could. But for now, what I want very much is to be able to begin again the way that I really should have done it," she said as she opened the clasps of the scabbard. She took it off and set it down on the rock between them, and then removed the sheathed dagger to place it down as well. She stood before him, facing him empty-handed. "Alright then," Lia said, "I will speak the truth to you -- if you think that you can believe me. I really didn't come to kill you, though I was very prepared to, and I have handled this all wrong. I want you to see something by this," she said, indicating her weapons. "I need to speak with you without these things getting in the way. I have two tasks. If we hear of a werewolf who is barking mad and killing humans, someone like me is sent to kill them. We do our best to live hidden among humans so that we all can benefit. Crazed werewolves draw attention to us. It was my mistake here. You are not one like that. I am very sorry for my assumption." She bowed her head for a moment and then continued. "If we hear of a werewolf who is unknown to us, we look to see whether they live well and quietly. We offer help if we can. That is what I want to do for you as well, if you would let me. I have so much to tell you. I can't do that if we only stand like this, and, ... there is something else, something that we both need to be sure of. I'm not speaking for the federation who I work for now. I speak only for myself and for you. This Patterson woman, you are not - involved with her now?" He wondered about all of this, but shook his head, "I was, but, ..." He shrugged. "We were close at first, but I caused the start of our trouble when I refused to bite her. Elena said that I was keeping a gift from her, and it got worse from this point. Much later, I saw that this book only made her richer. The things that she promised me never came. That is not the hardest part to bear for me, but it is a part. I am now sorry that I let her see me at all. She was sorry after I left, but it is only for a time. If I went back, this would all begin again. She would demand that I bite her, and I would refuse. I do not see this as having a gift, do you?" Just an Old Legend Ch. 11 "No," she shook her head, "I never saw it as that. It only made me able to suffer the pain of my life for longer than a person is supposed to live." He nodded a little sadly. "So, I am not alone with this pain." She sighed, "I said that I'd speak the truth, so you have to listen now. I came for the federation -- and I also came to find out if you are the one who I am searching for. I see that you are bitter from many things, but, ..." Lia stopped for a moment to draw a breath and try to hold his gaze. "If you are the one who I came halfway around the world to seek out, then you must also know that there was one once who always loved you." Her voice cracked a little at the end and his resigned look changed instantly as he stared at her. He looked at her a bit strangely. Her words brought up a memory that he'd lain down long ago, but he nodded finally, "I had a friend who I loved from when we were small. My family moved away when we were about twelve. I never saw her again, though I tried. She went to a school far away, and then I heard that she had gone to another. I was a soldier by then. I saved my leaves so that I could travel to where we once lived for news of her." He sighed at the unpleasant memory, "I only wanted to find an address where I might write to my old friend. I wanted to find her, and I hoped that she was well. I heard that she became a teacher. She was always good at that." His face clouded over, "But I never did find very much. I was stationed at the other end of the country. I tried three times, once every year. I could never travel fast enough, and I came back to my regiment late every time. Each time, they took my rank away from me again and threw me into the military prison. That was the punishment for coming back late from leave; prison and beatings." He looked down for a moment, "The truth of it is that from when I was little, I always knew that I wanted to marry her. The years apart didn't bother me if I could see her again. I even told myself that if I found her and she was in love with someone, I would be glad only if I found her happy. It was a dream, I guess, and the prison cured me of it. When I left the army, I went home to my parents and still I heard nothing of my friend. Then I met my wife." He looked at her and was surprised to see that she had tears there herself. "It is worse than that," she said, "I never knew about your journeys or the prison. Otherwise, I know quite a bit about it. Just tell me since I need to hear now. What is your name?" "Ion Sorescu," he said with a shrug, "What do you know of this? Please, do you know anything about my friend? Please tell me if you do. I think that she must be dead by now, or at least very old, but I must know if she was happy." Lia was surprised that she could speak through her tears. She supposed that she'd had plenty of practice crying, after all. She shook her head, looking down. His eyes were draw to the dark spots on the old rock which marked where her tears fell. "No. She was never happy after you moved away. No, she is not dead, though she is old. And no, you are not Ion Sorescu. You are Ion Nichita Sorescu." She looked up at him. "I always called you Nikki." He shook his head, looking a bit angry now, "No. I don't know why you would tell me this, but it is some trick to go with your silver knives. Only one person has ever known me by this name. You cannot be- " He stared as she stood there in human form, a beautiful and now very cold human woman standing in the autumn wind. His glance went from her face to her legs and back. "Lia," she said through her tears, "I am Lia Pantoferu." His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. She sniffled, "I am the same Lia - your Lia. Do you remember? As a little boy, you never asked my mother where Lia was. You always asked her where your Lia was when you looked for me, and that is how I always thought of myself. I was your Lia, and you were my Nikki. You helped me with everything," she sniffled again. "You helped me up when other children only pushed me down and laughed at me because of my weak legs. Until you moved away, you were my only friend. Then I had no one and I cried," she sobbed once. "I think that I have spent most of my long life in tears." "You taught me to be strong just like you were. You taught me to make myself walk when I was too weak inside myself to go another step. I finally saw better doctors because of that school. They helped me, but they told me that it was you who had done the most with your help and your words and your heart. That I can walk and run at all I owe to you. I have never had the chance to thank you." She stepped forward slowly and reached her left hand out to him, past the waiting muzzles of the old gun to gently place her palm against the side of his wide chest, "I always loved to lie down in the meadow with you and you let me put my head here." She smiled with a sniffle, "You always worried about where you put your hand around me once these began to come in," she indicated the two breasts that her human form retained. "I always told you the same thing about where to put your hand, - that you could always hold me there." she said, reaching for her braid to show him the end. "And you always loved to play with my braid here, Nikki." His fingers flew away from the twin triggers as he stared open-mouthed and he now felt foolish that he'd leveled the shotgun at her. He felt even worse about the throwing knife, "But you, you're - " She nodded, pointing to the scar on her chest, "And so are you. We both have lost our blue eyes to the same cruel bitch who gave us these golden ones instead - another dark part of our sad story. I did not want to tell you about that but it doesn't matter much anymore and I think you are ready to hear it. A lot depends on how you remember my cousin." "Your cousin, ..." "Yes," she said, "my beautiful cousin Danaya, who laughed at me our whole lives. She knew where to write to me the whole time that you were with her. She even knew that you had searched for me, she must have." "My bad luck that the one I ached to see again moved close to the same village where my own cousin then had even more to laugh at me about. From my aunt, she knew that we were friends, you and I. My aunt said nothing to my parents because her daughter had found such a strong and handsome man for herself, and so they had no news to give to you. They didn't even know where the school that I was living at was, really. The name meant little to them, and they couldn't read well." Lia smiled bitterly, "Danaya began to write me proud letters crowing about you only after it was too late and you were married. I received no invitation to the wedding. You were here for three years when she was bitten herself, and it only brought her meanness out more." "You should have heard her laughter after she did this to me the same night that she told me that she was leaving to come to this place. It was the only time that she ever came to visit my family alone. She told me that she would bite you, even then. I stood in pain and shock, and she laughed with my blood on her face." He watched Lia's tears stream down, amazed that she could cry like this without a sob. It told him that she'd done it for long years, just as he had himself. "I was never able to see my parents again," she said, "I tried once to go home as a wolf because I had no clothes anymore to come as a girl. I only wanted to see them, but my father ran after me with an axe. He thought that I wanted to eat his sheep. After that, I didn't try again. It hurt me too much." She looked up and wiped her eyes with her hands, "I have never hated anyone, Nikki. Not even those who tormented me when I was little. You know this. But I wanted to kill my cousin for what I knew that she would do to you. I could do nothing but hide in the forest and cry. Thank you for killing Danaya. I know that the price was high for you, but thank you." He wanted to protest, but deep inside, what she'd said made perfect sense to him. He'd seen that Danaya had a mean side to her for himself. He'd just never seen it while they courted. He felt his own tears beginning as he realized the full depth of what Danaya had done to them. He pushed the thought aside in his mind angrily. She was no longer worth remembering. If only he'd known. "You are very brave here," he with the first of his own sniffles, indicating the shotgun. "Perhaps no braver than you," she said. "I learned many things about you today, things that I should have known and remembered about you." "You showed me no fear. I have killed many and it is unusual. They are always afraid of me. It bothered me until I saw that you really have no fear of anything at all. It shouldn't have surprised me. You were always the bravest person that I have ever known. And I also saw that you have no fear because you are not afraid to die. You would welcome your death." Lia reached for the muzzles slowly and guided them to her breast, laying them directly over her heart, feeling the deadly silver there from this close. "I am the same, Nikki, just the same as you. My life has gone on the way that it has for far too long. I have lived most of my life completely empty inside." She looked into his eyes, "I think that I can even guess what you want to ask of me now, or soon. You spoke of it as a sad taunt just now before you knew who I am. If you ask this of me, I would do it, but not here and not now, and only in a certain way." She slowly took the shotgun from his hands, and laid it down on the ground by her swords. Coming back to him, she reached out slowly and put her arms around his neck for a moment, "Since we were parted, for eighty-four years I have ached to hold you like this, Nikki, but could you please let me see you as the man that you are now?" She sighed as he complied, and smiled softly, "I always knew that you would be the most handsome man when you grew up. You are just as I saw you when I closed my eyes to go to sleep as a girl." They looked at each other's wet eyes and she smiled. He began to smile a little softly, "You are lovely, and you cannot know how good it is to see you without your braces." His eyes shone at her as he laughed quietly, "And you can run! Like a deer, Lia!" His smile widened and she continued, "Then please only hear me out. If you are truly tired of your jail here, then let me take you away and set you free at last. We can go home to Romania. It will take a little time, but I promise that you can learn all that you want to. How to live in the world and understand its ways today and how to live free. I promise you this, and you know I do not lie. I will even help you as I always did, Nikki. It would be my honor to do this for you." "Then you and I can go home. I mean home where we were born. I own that place now. I always thought that one day I would be your happy wife there, but I gave it up at last." "You could do this, Lia?" He was incredulous, "What are you saying to me?" She smiled a little hopefully to him. She had an idea and needed now to make him understand. "Now I think that maybe we could have what we missed. So I want to bring you there. We both carry old wounds. I feel better now only standing near to you. I think it would make you feel better to have me working beside you there to make a home for ourselves. I want to try this now." His arms held her to him and she laid her head against him for a moment, and then she looked up, "And if we do this, if we try to have our time together at last, and we find that it will not work for us anymore even in that place where we once belonged to each other, then if you still want me to, I will kill you as you wish, but on one condition." She looked directly into his eyes and they both felt it, that the slim chance that they had after everything ought not to be wasted. "It must be with pistols loaded with silver. I have them at my home. I will kill you only if you kill me then at the same instant, because for me, that would leave me nothing more, now that I know that you live and I have touched you." "I am just as tired of my empty life as you, though I am sure that I have lived better than you did here. The sad story of the two little children will then finally end where it began. Do you agree, Nikki? We were those children long ago and we made promises to each other. I have never forgotten, and I am certain that you now remember our promises. They have a lot of dust on them, but we both meant what we said to each other. I am saying that if you agree, then we should sweep the dust from them and live them as we intended to." He nodded, "Yes, but are you saying that you still want me for your husband, even now? I tried to find you but could not. I think that I broke my promise to you." Lia shook her head, "Not really, I think, since you tried so hard to find me and someone else hid the truth from you. I came here for the federation in case you were another one gone mad, but really, I came for the tiny hope that I felt as soon as I read that book. I thought that it had to be about the one I loved so long ago." She looked at him and felt some small hope rising between them. Decades and decades without hope at all and now ... "Please," she said what came to her as carefully as she could, wanting at the same time to just drop to her knees and beg him, now that they were this small distance apart on a cold and windy island, "As soon as we can get your life in order, I would marry you in a church if you wish, though I only wonder who would marry a pair such as we are. Before that, I would consider you my husband if you only tell me that you are. I would marry you even right here and now, Nikki, before only God if I must and you tell me so. Only tell me that you might still love me, and I'll be happy. I'll never let you go again." He looked at her for a long moment, "It was simple then, no? We just knew what we were supposed to do and we waited only to be old enough." He looked into her warm smile. He felt the chill on his chest from their tears as they ran down in the cold air. "Yes," she said, "I remember the times that you helped me up into the loft so that we could kiss each other a little longer without being seen. I would hug you and you would be a little ashamed sometimes." She chuckled, "We lived on farms and we saw how things were. I never minded it, but it was then that I just knew that I was for you and that you were to be mine one day. So? This is one day, isn't it?" He found himself in trouble wanting and needing to believe this here. "In spite of what you think of me, Lia, I do have a fear. I have grown afraid to hope. But I know it will be alright," he said, making up his mind. "You seem to know what you are doing if you can travel around the world as you do. You will have to guide me like a child, Lia, but I will trust you, because if I do not, then Danaya has still won and because I want to trust you. I still have my Lia in my heart; do not worry for that, even more now that I find you against me here like a miracle. I am afraid now that you will disappear, and I couldn't bear that anymore now. Does this place still exist? Really?" She nodded, "Everyone is either dead, or gone to work in the cities and now in homes for the aged. The farms are beginning to fall down. But I know they can be repaired, even still. I bought the land so that I could go somewhere on this earth to feel only a little better. You would feel better there too. I go there and I see us when we were children, Nikki. The meadow needs cattle and sheep again. A few children wouldn't hurt it either to keep the weeds trampled down." She looked up with a smile, "At least I didn't have to buy the mountain. No one tries to take it away yet." "So after these years apart, you still want to love me and be my wife? I believe what I hear you say, but forgive me for asking again. It had been so long since I felt like this. Only your voice sounds so good to me, but your words... You are certain?" "Yes," she nodded, "That is what we always said that we would be. What else is there for people like us now that we hold each other again? There is only a life together or we can be together in death. Even dead, I can no longer think of being without you because I know that you still live and I hold you in my arms at last. This curse that we share has kept us alive for so long. Maybe it could be a blessing too now that we are all that are left." "I think this might be hard, but for our parents and grandparents, they just said it and lived their lives. That was our promise to each other. This is all that I want for us. I still have my job. When the federation learns of a man who could not be hunted by their best, they will want to find out why. Perhaps you can have a job there too. But even so, we can live together and I think that we still love each other somewhere inside. I feel it already from you, and I know that I still love you somehow, enough to come all this way to look for you." He kissed her, trying hard to do it just as he did then. It turned into something more very soon after. "This chance that you want to give to us, we will not make it to that place if we do not grow some fur again very soon, Lia. And then where will we go, to the house?" She shook her head as her change began, "No. I have to return the boat. We can go to my motel in town, and tomorrow, we can begin the long trip home." She looked at him, wanting his words. She needed to have this out in the open between them now. Lia had to know. "But you have not told me how we are to go. Are we to be only friends to start? I can wait a little longer for you." Her last sentence was the same little joke that she'd often said to him, the one who waited so often for her as she struggled on her braces and canes. On the rare occasions when she'd gotten ahead of him somehow, she would say this one little phrase to make them both laugh. He already knew that a miracle had happened to them and the hopeful way that she'd said it made him know that she really was his Lia, beyond any possible doubt. His head swam a little at this final proof, and he wondered now if his heart had torn loose in his chest. He surprised her when he shook his head, but she saw the laughter in his eyes and wondered how she could have had a doubt that it was him. If she'd been close enough to see this look at the outset, they'd have saved the whole day of running around after each other. Then again, she admitted to herself, it had been fun. "No," he said, "now that we know each other, we only need to throw away some things that we have carried. My friendship to you is not in question, Lia. You have it already as you always have. And you do not need to wait for me any longer." He smiled as he pulled her head close to his while the cold wind whipped his hair around them unnoticed. "If it is what you need to hear, then I tell you that I am your husband, now, - as quickly as I can say it -- before anything else can happen to two poor children, and you are my wife, since you still want me for your own after all this time. But I cannot only tell you. I must hear it too. So please, Lia, tell me yes, right now and quickly before the earth opens or the sky falls on my head. If you say yes, and it works between us, I will want one day to do this better." She looked up, a little surprised, but suddenly so very happy, "I can finally have my Nikki now? Then yes. My answer is yes a thousand times, Nikki. To do this better, you said? I can wait for that. Only that you say this to me now is enough. Even before then, we can go somewhere warm, like the bigger island where I found the book about you in my hand by luck. Even tonight in my room, Nikki," she grinned at him a little mischievously, "you can put your hand where I told you that you could always hold me. But I have a hope that tonight you will not leave it only there. I have only one thing to ask about how we begin." Just an Old Legend Ch. 11 "Ask me anything, Lia. Now is the best time to ask. I am holding the bravest, most beautiful girl in the world. The one I thought I would never see again, and who comes to free me at last." "I ask only that we do not begin this here. I would not refuse you if you ask now, but I want to start my life with you away from this jail of yours." "Of course," he smiled, "Now that you say it like that, I cannot wait to get away from this cursed place." She kissed him deeply for many minutes and almost lost her resolve herself about beginning somewhere else. After picking up their weapons and her pack, he took her hand as they walked back to leave the prison that he'd built so long ago. "I am thinking of what you said about winning the game," she said as they walked, "I think that you won it." He looked at her and shook his head. "I disagree. Think back a little. You have disarmed me and won my heart -- or, won it back, maybe. So I think that you won the game." "It is not a clear enough outcome," she said with consideration while she did her best to look determined to resolve it. "I think it can only be settled on our meadow, "she said. "This is serious, and we will need to chase each other like foxes, I think, each one hunting the other." He looked down at her mischievous smile. They walked further and she looked off into the distance. "What do you think, Nikki?" "I think," he said as considered, "that it is not a clear enough outcome." Just an Old Legend Ch. 12 They stood before the house on their way to the dock. The day was still bright, but the shadows were now growing long in the afternoon and there was a wall of clouds off to the west. "I think that we should hurry a little, Lia," he said, "that could be the first of the cold rains that come here in the autumn. I only need to get my clothes and the papers that Elena bought for me from the barn." He came back from the barn dressed and carrying the rest of his few things. She'd gotten dressed herself in the meantime. "Don't you have anything for the cold?" she asked. He shook his head, "Let's go now." The wind picked up even more as they got underway, but once out of the channel and pointed at the town, it helped to speed them on their way. "Don't you want to get a last look at your island?" she shouted over the breeze. He shook his head as he began to pull the old shotgun shells out of the box to begin tossing them overboard. "No, I've seen enough of it." Lia watched the deliberate way that he did it. He saved the ones loaded with silver slugs for the last. Reaching for the old scattergun he looked at it and then looked up at her. "I feel strange throwing this away." he said. "Why didn't you use it on yourself when you finally had it back?" she asked him. He smiled and broke open the breech to pull out the two shells there. He handed them over to her as he dropped the shotgun over the side where it was instantly gone from sight on its way down to the deepest part of the lake. She looked at the old shells and noticed the dents in the primers. They'd been fired but they hadn't gone off. "I tried all seven of them against my chest yesterday, many times in each barrel. They are too old to work anymore." he said with a shrug. She stared at him, and thought of kissing the two dud shells for saving his life. She let them go overboard as well. She shook her head, "And you knew this and yet you played our hunt all day with me, knowing that I might have killed you? My old friend is the bravest man ..." She pointed to her weapons, "Please throw mine over too, and don't forget the throwing knives. We can't travel with them." They got to the marina dock and she hustled to get him into her rented van as soon as she could after returning the boat. She twisted the key and set the temperature control as high as it would go and she drove them to a clothing store. The sky was completely overcast now and the gloom of the late afternoon was almost a palpable feeling. Twenty minutes later, he had his first jacket and Lia was pleased that he'd chosen one like hers. "We still look like a set," she laughed as they trotted through the cold rain. Nikki noticed a face that he knew in the window of the realty office. He asked Lia to come with him for a moment. He had something to do, he told her. Stan Beamish smiled as he shook hands. "This is a surprise. I can't believe that you're allowed out on your own." Stan winked. He introduced the woman there in his office with him as his wife, Maggie. When Beamish had introduced Nikki as the subject of Helen's book, the woman stared and then grinned, "Stan told me that the book was written about the man who came to farm on the island, and what he had become. I loved the book, but of course I never believed it, ... Are you really him? You look so young." Nikki blushed, "Yes." It was obvious that Mrs. Beamish didn't believe him, but she was too well-mannered to call him on it. Nikki struggled for a second, "Stan, I consider you to be my friend. I came to say goodbye. I am leaving. Elena and I are no longer speaking. She is signing her books somewhere and we are not together now for a few weeks. If you see her, please tell her that I wish her only the best, but I cannot act like the pet that she wants me to be anymore." The old man's face fell a bit as he nodded, "I was a little afraid that it wouldn't last between you. I always asked her where you were whenever I bumped into her around here. She always gave me a reason that sounded like you weren't ready to come over. I had a call from her a few days ago. It sounds to me as though she might not be back for a while now. She asked me to look in on you and close the house up for the winter." "I understand," Nikki said, "Could you also tell her thanks for me? I am sure that she didn't mean for this to happen, but her book has been sort of a gift to me. Please let me introduce you to my friend, Lia," Nikki said. "We were children together long ago, before this curse on our lives. We are going to be married." Beamish shook the hand that Lia offered, "We've met, Ion. She came to ask me questions a few days ago. Congratulations! So you're like Ion?" She nodded, "We were lost to each other from the time that we were twelve or so. His wife bit me even before she came here to bite him. She was my cousin and told me nothing about the man who she would marry until it was done. You know him as Ion, and that is his first name, but he is Nikki to me." "I read the book that you wrote with Helen and I almost knew that it was him in it. It might surprise you to know how far the book has gone. My old copy was purchased in Bucharest, and I didn't begin to read it until I was in the Canary Islands off the coast of Africa. I think you should feel a little bit proud of that." "I do," he laughed, "I'd never have guessed that it would go that far. My other book never made it out of this area. Where are you going now then? This is a bit sudden isn't it?" "It is sudden, but you only have to understand us, and it might make a little sense," Lia said, "Neither of us was born like this. We began like you. We were friends from the time that we could say our first words. Our mothers used to bathe us together in the same laundry tub. Nikki and I are leaving to go home to the Carpathian Mountains where we were born. We are getting married perhaps sixty-five or seventy years later than we'd ever planned to when we'd first promised ourselves to one another." She smiled as an idea came to her. "I think that when we get settled, I would like one day to contact you to give you some notes if you ever feel like writing another book. This one would be about us. It is a long sad tale, but I think now that it comes to a happy ending. You could have a follow-on to the first book. Please give me an email address if this interests you. I would hope that if it does, that you might want to write it by yourself. I have also read the book that you wrote about this area's mysteries. I enjoy your writing style better than Helen's." Stan reached for his stack of business cards and wrote his personal email address on the back of one, "I think that would be an interesting story, Lia. Please write to me at intervals anyway, and I'll let you and Ion know what's going on around here. What do you do there, if I might ask?" Lia laughed, "I do not think that you really want to know this, but if Nikki calls you his friend, I don't see the harm - especially as you know about us, I mean, what we are." She glanced at the expression on Mrs. Beamish's face and grinned, "Besides, who would believe what I am about to tell you? There are more of us, Mr. Beamish. For a long time now, we have done things a bit differently. We live among you peacefully, and wish to harm no one. That is how we survive rather than as beasts. In order to do that, we cannot tolerate a werewolf who kills humans for food or out of the madness that besets us in the time after their first change. Those who do are hunted down. We exterminate them ourselves. We cannot allow that behavior if we are to exist with humans. Does that make sense to you? It's not a big stretch if you consider that in your own society you do not allow serial killers either. We know that to humans, we are very hard to kill, so we remove the threat to you ourselves since we have hunters for that purpose." Maggie looked as though she was about to scoff, but Stan nodded. He could see the sense of it. "And what part do you play in that, Lia?" "I am one of the huntresses. Over more than fifty years, I have averaged better than two kills per year. I was on my way to four for this year, but I had no proof that the one here was murderous," she indicated Nikki. "Imagine my joy to find my old friend at last." She smirked, "And try to imagine how it felt to hunt him for a full day to the best of my ability while he had the time of his life turning the tables or just eluding me as though I was an amateur at this." "That sounds like a hell of a chapter right there, Lia. Please be sure to write to me. I'd love to know more of it." They wished each other the best after Nikki informed Stan that the old gun and the shells were now where they wouldn't likely cause anyone harm. As soon as they'd gone, Stan began to scribble notes to himself and tried to learn where those mountains might be. He loved the idea that Lia had floated in his mind. His wife laughed at him for believing a word of it. Out in the van, Nikki turned to Lia. "Would you really let him write this book?" Lia shrugged, "I doubt it. I don't think the Federation would be happy to know that a huntress might be in a novel. But if I could think of a way to do it without that part of it, maybe. And anyway, you and I would have to agree, and ... " she threw up her hands in a helpless gesture that made him smile before putting the van into gear. -------------- "Where are we going now?" He asked Lia as they drove through the rain. "I thought that you might like something to eat," she said as they pulled into a restaurant lot. She smiled at him, "The choice is yours, Nikki. That one serves what is called 'fast food'. It is designed to be informal, and not really expensive. The food comes quickly, and you can find places from this company all over the world. The other one is more of a regular restaurant. They serve better food, but it takes a little while before it comes to your table. So which one? That one is ground beef, and this one is steak." He pointed with a smile, and she laughed a little. She was in that lot anyway, so steak it was. He let her order for him and was pleased with his choice of establishment, since he sat across the table gazing at her in the soft glow of the candles there on the table. He shook his head, "I would have laughed if I'd had the idea this morning that I would be here now with you of all people. My hope to see you again left me a long time ago when I thought that I would be on the island forever. To me, you were gone from the world." She smiled, "As I had thought you to be. You have to meet my friend, Dacia. You would love her from the first five minutes. She was the one who put the book in my hand. I didn't think it would even be a good book, but as I began to read, I just knew, and so I began to think about how I might find out if anything in it was true. I have to thank Dacia for this - and I think that you do as well. You will meet her soon. Dacia is a bundle of nervous energy like a bouncing top. She can't often sit still, but when it happens, she is so quiet and as thoughtful as a young girl, maybe a little bit vulnerable too." "Then I have to thank her," he said, "How will we get home?" "We have to go to the consulate, and from there, we go by airplane. This will be something very new for you. You came here by ship, no?" He nodded grimly, "Yes. I went by train to Germany, and then by ship. I haven't thought of this in so long. I hung on the rail and was sick most of the way, it seemed. I was far below the deck, but always I had to run to be outside. I could not stand to be in a room that bounced like that for ten days. What is it like, the way that we will go?" "Less bouncing, and no place to go if you need to be outside. We sit in seats and look out of the window. The world is smaller and far below - if we can even see it through the clouds. You cannot go outside, it flies too fast. If you break the lock and you could open the door, everyone inside would die. There is not enough oxygen that high up. Everything inside would be sucked out, so you will have to sit still and behave yourself, Nikki. If it bothers you, just try to sleep. It takes only seven hours, maybe eight." "Seven hours, ..." he couldn't believe it. "Yes," she smiled, "but it is not so easy anymore. We have to be at the place hours before we leave, then we leave the ground, fly across the ocean, and then land again in Bucharest. We will take a car to my home." She looked thoughtful, "Tonight, I have to make a report that I am bringing you back with me. It will not be a problem. You will be welcomed, but they will want to know how it was that I couldn't catch you." He smiled, "So? Don't tell them then if it will be trouble." "I have to tell them," she said, "it won't be trouble, they will only be curious, that's all. And anyway, they are paying for the fare. You will stay with me for a few days. If I must be away for any reason, Dacia will stay with you. And then they will want to meet you. You will go to the school for a while to learn about yourself and how to live today. For this, I think that we can stay together at my home, and if not, then I will stay wherever you are. I will not let us be apart for very long anymore, Nikki. Not now." He thought about it, "When can we go to our village?" "We can go to see it if you want to, but winter is coming. I think that we should wait to begin our home in the spring. That way, you can learn all that they can teach you." "What do I need to learn about me? This sounds strange." Lia laughed, "We know much more about ourselves now. You need to learn about you, and about me too." She smiled at him mischievously, "Do you know what our babies would be? Tell me then." She had him there. He didn't know. His answer came out weakly, "Loved and beautiful?" She gave him the smirk that he'd loved long ago and hadn't seen in so long. "I understand now," he said a bit sheepishly. They talked quietly in Romanian all through dinner and then drove to the motel. He sat and watched as she wrote and filed her encoded after-action report. She sat back and waited. Nikki asked her what she was waiting for. "My reports got to files, but also, my superior sees them instantly. I know that you do not know about this -- but you will soon. It is early morning now in Romania. If Micha is awake, he will see this and I need him to give me approval to bring you home. I know that he will do that, but I hope that he sends it right away." ----------------------------- Half a world away, an email server noted the match on the address and miles away from that, a notebook which had been in sleep mode on a small desk in a bedroom awoke. Micha had been awake for a few minutes already anyway. It was early on a Sunday morning -- far too early. He considered whether he ought to get up now, or sleep for a bit longer. He ran down his list and would have gone back to sleep but for the activity on his computer. There were a very few email addresses that he wanted routed to him at any time, and this had to be one of them. He got up to sit at the end of the bed. His wife Jenna noted it and sat up as well. For the decisions and actions that her mate had to deal with, she'd learned a long time ago that it paid to know at least something. "What, Micha?" When he didn't answer right away, she sat up herself and got behind him to rest her head on his shoulder as she hugged him. He shook his head slowly, "I don't believe it, Jenna. Lia has scored again." "So?" he felt his mate's smile against his shoulder, "Lia is always scoring. That's why she is the best, no?" She ran her hand over his chest. "Was it someone important that she hunted this time?" He chuckled, "If this is correct, I think that he is so important that we can't even use the word. She hasn't killed this one and she's bringing him in." He began a reply concerning monthly sales forecasts. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment to be sure that he remembered the key words that he'd need to include. "She's used a key word here that I've never known her to use before. She's happy." "What does that mean in your crazy spy-world, Micha?" Jenna asked with a grin, "It all means nothing to me. I am happy all the time, though I'm only a happy wolf-bitch in love with her male and a busy mother to their whelps, all four hundred of them." He stopped for a second. "Four hundred?" She sighed, "Alright, eight. But it feels like four hundred most days. What does this mean that she's happy - that she's murderous again? Lia is always at least a little murderous. Does she say now that she's happily murderous or does it mean that she is murderously happy?" He shrugged, "No, she didn't use it as a key word. She used the key word for 'happy'. It means that she's happy. She says that the one that she was after this time is her childhood friend. Have you ever heard her story? I'll tell it to you sometime when we have too many boxes of tissues around the house. You'll need them then, trust me. She says that she will need some time off very soon. She says that they're getting married." Jenna's head lifted from his shoulder and popped up so that she could see some of the screen as well, though the coding that they used prevented her from understanding any of it. "Married? Finally a word that I can understand in the mystery world that you share with her." "It says that she hunted him for a full day on an island and HE caught HER. I need to find out why he's still alive. I need to learn why she failed. Lia has never failed." He heard Jenna's soft chuckle. "I see no failure here," she said, "These are things that you should ask me about," she said. "This is nothing mysterious, Micha," she whispered as she stroked his ear in a way that she knew would make him shiver. "It's just what we females do." Jenna stretched a little to kiss his cheek, "We chase you though you don't know it and then we catch you by letting you think that you have captured us." She laughed softly, "You do what you need to do, Micha. You sort and sift and think and analyze probabilities all that you need to when they come in. Me? I have my own task ahead of me." He looked at over his shoulder at her, "What task?" She slapped his handsome cheek softly, "Idiot. I have a wedding to plan for Lia -- who is so happy. If she wasn't needed all of the time, I would have had her modeling with me before -- but for two things; she would want no part of it, and the expression that she has always worn. She is so beautiful, but her face has always worn a blank inward look, hardly ever smiling, and even then, it was always a restrained smile." She laughed, "If Lia is happy, Micha, that is something that I must see for myself -- and I want to meet this childhood friend for myself as well. Have you sent your reply yet?" "Half a moment," he said, completing the code needed to give the huntress authorization to bring the individual to the Kaze. "I'm giving her the authorization that she requires." He felt her fingers begin to work their subtle magic on his maleness. "Well hurry, my love. I'm giving you all the authorization that you need for what I require right now. We have at least two hours before any of our little ones wake up to whine for their breakfast and I intend to take full advantage of it." -------------------------- Back at the motel, Lia's in-box showed the receipt of Micha's reply. She read it and told him that they had permission to go home. Nikki was amazed. She brought his attention to a pair of photos that she'd opened on her laptop's screen. Ion stared at the corpse caught in the glare of the flash, the subject's final agony immortalized in gory detail. "This was the one who turned Danaya. It was taken about ten days ago less than a minute after I killed him. In werewolf terms, you could think of Danaya as our mother since she bit us. This bag of dung that you're looking at would be our grandfather since he was the one who bit her. He was old, over a hundred and fifty years as a werewolf. There is no telling how many he turned by drunken accident, intentional bitings and bitings while he raped someone, but he killed hundreds of people for food." Just an Old Legend Ch. 12 She shut down the computer and pointed him to the shower with a smile. He was surprised a minute later as the curtain opened a little and she stepped inside with him. "Why do you look at me like that?" she asked, "I came to wash you, and then I want you to wash me. It will be fun and, ...." "And what, Lia?" he smiled. Lia was stuck for a moment, but finally grinned, "Practical," she nodded with satisfaction. He chuckled, "Yes, I can see that it would be practical. Though you can travel the world in hours to find me, I can also see that you are still a farm girl inside. Only a farm girl would find a way to hide something that she hopes to enjoy with that word." She nodded brightly, "We would save water. You could wash me, and rub my sore bottom. And my legs still hurt me sometimes. They haven't hurt me this much in years, but today I found something that makes then hurt a bit." "I have to know this," he said, "What makes them hurt today?" "Chasing after you," she said as she stood with her arms around his neck. "I would never have thought that it would be so much fun, but now I'm sore." As he toweled himself dry afterward, he watched Lia untie her braid and shake her damp hair out. As she worked to dry it a little more trying to avoid tangles, she was at first unaware that he stood spellbound as he watched her. She looked at him quizzically, "What is it?" He shook his head, "Nothing, I guess. I was trying to remember the last time that I saw you with your hair undone. I have always been amazed by your beauty, even when we were little. I struggled for an answer to how long it had been as I stared. Things were going black for me for a moment. I guess that I forgot to breathe," he shrugged with a smile. His reward for the comment was another of her smirks, and then after a moment she looked at him, "You were really amazed then?" "My whole life until we moved, yes," he nodded. "I could look at you for hours. I would even do that sometimes, if your legs had made you tired and you fell asleep. There were some times when we were there in the meadow that you fell asleep, and your mother came to look for us because she had some chore for you. She would find me watching you sleep with your head on me. Most times, she would just smile and whisper to me that I should bring you back home as soon as you woke. I always thought about how beautiful you were. I worried sometimes that you would see a boy that you liked better than me." He found her with her face against his chest. Her eyes were closed and she smiled for a moment. "You're very sweet," she said after kissing him there. "You worried for nothing, Nikki. You were the only one that I wanted, and you always had my heart. You were everything to me. I always knew my luck. I had you, and you helped me always. I could never be with you enough, and still I dreamed of you at night. I used to watch you from the kitchen window while you worked in your pens. I had my fear that you would find a prettier girl who had strong legs. My mother said that very soon, every girl would try for your heart and that you would be strong and handsome, but she told me that you wouldn't even see them, because you loved me so much." He kissed the top of her head, "She was right about that. That was how it should have gone for us. But we are together now, Lia." He bent quickly and she found herself in his arms as he carried her to the bed. "If we are to be man and wife, I will need you to teach me about the world. Right now, you need me to rub your aching miracle legs for you." Lia was somewhat surprised by his almost shy expression as he set her down carefully, "When I brought you to your home, I always wanted to rub your legs for you because I knew they hurt you so much. I wanted to make you feel better, and of course, I couldn't do that then. But I wished to be able to do that whenever your legs hurt." "I knew that, Nikki. I always felt how much stronger you were getting as you carried me. I never told you, but I wanted you to carry me all the way into the house, and I really wanted you to rub my legs for me too. I used to wonder how far my mother would let you carry me when you'd grown strong enough to carry me that far. It was just a girl's daydream then. I didn't think that I'd get better, and I never thought that I'd have legs as strong as anyone else's when I grew up, so in my daydreams, I was grown up, and by some miracle, you still wanted me. We'd be married in my dreams, and I'd always do my best to make up for my legs, if only you'd carry me inside our house and rub my legs when they got bad." She tousled his hair with a grin, "And of course, when I was a bit older, my dreams let you rub more than my legs, but we were apart by then." "I always tried to hide my uncertainty about things - like when you worried about how to put your arm around me in the meadow. You didn't think that you should keep putting it in the same place as when we were little. I would hide it with the pragmatism of a country girl, but I worried too. Inside, I thought it was silly. It wasn't a problem when we were small, and I knew it wouldn't be a problem when we were grown and married, since we both knew that we'd be together, didn't we? It was just a problem while we were beginning to grow up." Lia laughed quietly, "Well, we grew up a long time ago, and now you can put your hands anywhere that you like on me. And you can rub my legs as much as you want to." He began to massage her legs carefully as he told her that he was so happy that all of their wishes about her legs had finally come true. He'd stop now and then to kiss them here and there. Lia finally had her dream come true with him. He was really there, and she felt like a happy cat as she sighed in response to the work that his hands were doing. "Nikki," she said, "there's something that you need to know about us, I mean what we are inside." She looked up and saw his eyes. It was almost too late for them even now. She already saw it in him. And she knew that he was seeing the same thing in her eyes looking back at him now. She still felt that she ought to tell him, all the same. "Nikki, if this is good for us, you need to know that we've found out that we usually mate for life. It's just what we are. So if you think that you want me forever, that's fine with me. You already know how I feel about you. But if you're not certain about me, then you should stop now before it's too late." She watched as his smile grew, "You want me to rub your legs when they get tired. I was ready to do this for you always," he said softly, "I already wanted to love you forever. I only stopped long years after we lost each other. If I hadn't moved away, Lia, we'd have been married, and I'd have rubbed your poor legs even after they grew stronger and you didn't need your braces anymore. We would both probably be dead by now. I was a boy then, but I knew that was what I wanted. I see no difference here. What has changed is that we are different creatures, but you are still the same, and I am still the same. You want me to be certain? Do not ask me this again, Lia. I was certain before I was seven years old." She felt her eyes grow wet in her joy, and she reached to take him in her hand, "This was always a mystery to me back then, Nikki. We even watched together what the farm animals did and we knew how it was supposed to go, but I wondered how we would do it when the time came. By the time that I was eighteen, we hadn't seen each other in years but I thought of this alone in my room where I boarded. You were so much bigger than me, and now the margin is even larger. Now I know how it goes, but did you ever think about how we would do it then? I mean, me with my legs and everything? I thought about kneeling in front of you, but how would it work for us like that? I couldn't even hold myself up for very long, could I?" He cupped the core of her in his hand and squeezed softly as his hand worked her there. "You have no idea how much I thought of that back then, Lia," he said with a soft smile, "it's strange that you say it at that age, because I had the same thoughts then when I was in the army. Of course, it was torture for me since I slept in a bed in a barracks with many others around me. I was a young man after all, but I knew that I would have to love you very gently. I knew that I couldn't just go at you like an ox. I thought about it quite a lot." He smirked a little, "Well, that is what boys do, isn't it, think about that a lot?" Her smile to that was worth quite a bit to him as he looked at her with her raven hair around her, "It has been a long time now," she said, "but when I was at the school, I thought about how you might approach this problem every night - as soon as the lights were turned off. Could you show me what you finally arrived at for a solution, Nikki? I find that I am so tired now, but I want to begin as your woman right here and I want to pretend as I often did -- that we had found each other and we were just people." He stretched out on the bed beside her. "I thought of many ways that it might be done," he said, "but if we are pretending now, then you only need to lie on your back, and I will help you raise your legs like this," he said as he positioned her gently. Lia was amazed at how easily he could move her body around on the bed, being so careful with her all the while and never showing that it was any more effort than she might have used to move her coffee cup on the table in the morning. He spread her legs for her, being careful not to move them quickly, and then asked her if she could keep them this way for only a moment. "I -- I don't know what you'll find there, Nikki." She looked a bit uncomfortable, "I am still a virgin." The look which he returned to her made her feel as though some explanation was required. "I have always wanted only you, and, ... I -- I've never allowed it." He looked at her, thinking a little, knowing that she might be sensitive on this one subject. He kissed her softly, "Then I must really do this as I had thought so long ago when I imagined it." Lia smiled, "You really have thought about this," she said softly and he nodded, but then they both groaned as he entered her slowly and with great care. He froze and then pulled back when he heard her breath hiss between her teeth, but she held onto him. "Please, Nikki," she whispered, "Don't leave me. Stay in me here. I think it's past now." Well it wasn't. But before he could pull back again, she moved herself quickly and reached to pull him. "Sorry," she said as the discomfort passed, "after all of this time, I will do what I have to for this here." When they were completely joined, he kissed her and smiled as he repositioned her legs for her and asked her to try to wrap her legs around him. "I will do everything, Lia, but it will likely be that you cannot go on for long like this. You only have to tell me before it gets uncomfortable for your legs, and we will move another way." He moved slowly and as they found their best fit together, he found a gentle rhythm as he kissed her. When Lia noticed that her thighs were beginning to complain to her. She mentioned it, and he moved them again. He changed their positions several times. Lia had the beginnings of soft orgasms from every position and as soon as Nikki became aware of it, he always did something to her that pushed her higher as she went over the top. Whether it was his fingers on her nipples or her nub, or just his teeth gently on her throat, it always brought a satisfying intensity to her. He asked about the tears that he saw from her eyes, and she told him that it was nothing bad - that she was only happy now. But Lia protested after a time, pointing out that she wanted him to find pleasure as well, but he only laughed softly and asked her what she thought that he'd been doing. His own interpretation was that she was tired from the day of running and decided that she should sleep soon. Lia wanted to argue the point quietly, but he told her that if they were now a mated pair, then they had a long time ahead of them and he didn't mind if they just stopped now, but Lia wouldn't hear of it. "Think about how I might feel, Nikki. I see that you are doing all of these things for my pleasure, and I am so grateful to find that you are still so thoughtful, but I now want to have the pride of being able to satisfy my man. I think that we need to drop the charade of you loving a girl with her weak legs." "Perhaps not," he chuckled, and she found herself on her face with her legs draped off the edge of the bed. She moaned as he penetrated her and took her by her hips. His loving was still careful, but she now found herself being pounded more gently than she'd have ever thought possible for such a large man until at last she felt his contractions inside of her. Lia lifted her head to smile back at him, "Let me go only when you've given me all of it," she smiled, "after all of these years. I want every drop that you can give me, Nikki." He stopped for a minute and only smiled back and stroked her bottom, but the next contractions began and he groaned while Lia sighed happily. "This must be better than loving a man," she said, as she worked her internal muscles to entice another gush from him, "I only wonder if I can hold all of what you give to me here." The statement caused another ejaculation that made her whimper a little in her joy. Lia was pleased now to find that she could talk more out of him this way. After the seventh, Nikki knew that he was done for the moment and warned her that he'd withdraw slowly. Lia had her hand ready when he went to the bathroom for a towel for her. They curled up tightly together and she kissed him softly, "I wanted to be more, ... lively for you the first time, but I don't have the strength tonight. Was it good?" He nodded, "Better than I'd even hoped when I dreamed of loving my friend who had weak legs. I always knew that we could find a way for ourselves. Best of all, I can say that I love you now as I once did, my Lia." "And are we mated then?" she asked, "I warn you that our next time, I will be far more active for you. I only wanted to see tonight if you could be satisfied with being gentle because I'm so tired, and I didn't want to put this off between us for a moment longer. I might even be aggressive the next time." "Yes," he smiled, "Do you feel mated to me?" "I always did feel mated to you, even as a human girl long before we were ready to do anything. The only thing missing when it was time was you," she chuckled. "But as what I am now? More than ever," she sighed, "after this the world can do its worst, but my place in it is by your side, wherever we are," she explained as she asked him to change to his middle form. "We need no blankets like this," she smiled as she stretched to turn off the light. She turned back to him and found a comfortable position against him. "This is what I have always wanted," she sighed. ------------ **I'm going to leave them here for a little while, I think. I've got some ideas for what happens when they get back, and after that. I think Lia and Nikki have more to their story, but I've got to work my ideas out and I'm not done with Dacia's part in it either.