Women of the Dark Streets Read online

  Eve looked thoughtful. “Seems likely that at least one of your birth parents was a shifter.”

  Thinking about that made Selene’s chest ache, which was why she didn’t dwell on those thoughts anymore. “I know. Can we not talk about this now?”

  “Okay.”

  Selene waited, hoping that Eve would really drop the subject. When Eve simply stared at her, then smiled, Selene relaxed. Without thinking, she said, “I used to feel totally alone in the world. Yes, there may be others like me, but I’m not sure whether I’ll ever know for sure. Luckily, I can live with that—because I’m not alone anymore.”

  Eve leaned in for a kiss. “Neither am I.” When she pulled back, her inquisitive expression made it clear that she wasn’t done asking questions. “Is there anything you can’t become?”

  Selene laughed. Now that she’d had some practice, she enjoyed talking to Eve about her ability. The visceral thrill of being able to share it with someone surpassed even her wildest expectations. “I haven’t found anything yet, but then again, I haven’t done a ton of experimenting.”

  Eve’s face lit up. “Do you think you could become an extinct animal? Like a dinosaur?”

  What an interesting idea. Curious, Selene sat up, scooted well away from Eve, then closed her eyes. This one took a bit more concentration than normal, as she scanned her memory for a suitable test case. It came to her in a flash. Pteranodon. Eve would go crazy for that.

  Body tingling, Selene recognized that she was already shifting, instinct taking over. She opened her eyes to see Eve staring slack-jawed from across the blanket. Selene followed Eve’s gaze down to stare at her body, then stretched out her wings, marveling at their leathery span.

  “Holy shit,” Eve whispered. Her hands trembled. She crawled across the blanket, stopping when she came within reach. “May I touch you?”

  Selene cocked her head, hoping that Eve understood. Always.

  Eve traced her fingertips over one wing, then the other. Then her hands were everywhere, examining Selene with boundless enthusiasm: the crest on her head, her beak, her limbs. After a breathless exam, Eve said, “Will you fly? Not too high…we don’t want anyone to see. Stay under the canopy of the forest.” She fingered one of Selene’s wings. “I just want to know…”

  Selene took a step back, then vaulted herself into the air, raising her wings as soon as she cleared the ground, then bringing them down to complete her launch. She hovered in the air for a moment before ascending to just below the treetops. Then she flew circles over Eve’s head, thrilled by the sight of her naked lover watching in awe.

  Selene swooped down and landed beside Eve, then reverted to human form. She grinned when Eve burst into wild applause. “You’re easily impressed.”

  “Easily impressed!” Eve gave her a playful shove. “That was the single most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. Probably that anyone’s ever seen!”

  “It felt pretty amazing, too.”

  “Of course it did.” Eve shook her head. “I’m not sure you’ll ever top that one.”

  Surprised by the tingle of anticipation that crawled up her spine at Eve’s casual comment, Selene said, “I’ll consider that a challenge.”

  “Can you become another person?”

  A chill ran through Selene’s body. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

  “Do you want to?”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “Not unless there was a very good reason. It doesn’t…feel right. I don’t like that idea.” Her stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. “No.”

  Eve nodded. “It wouldn’t be cooler than a pteranodon, anyway.”

  Pleased that Eve wasn’t going to push, Selene wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  *

  After two days of playful exploration and lovemaking, the evening of the full moon arrived. Over the past two months, they’d established a routine for the hours leading up to Selene’s transformation. Up until about an hour before sunset, they fucked energetically and nearly unrelentingly, taking breaks only to replenish with food and drink and to catch their breath. Throughout, Eve tried to keep Selene calm about what was coming.

  As nervous as Selene was, Eve knew the weekend had marked a turning point. Selene seemed more at ease in her body, more confident. Shifting regularly, and for an appreciative audience, had clearly bolstered her self-acceptance. Eve doubted she’d ever be able to persuade Selene not to fear the moon, but at least she’d convinced Selene of the value of her ability. That would have to be enough.

  With less than an hour before she changed, Selene started to panic. They were lying tangled up in the big bed when Selene’s breathing increased. Her eyes had gone slightly wild and she seemed to struggle to stay connected to her human consciousness. Her face was still wet with Eve’s juices after she’d spent almost forty-five minutes feasting on very willing prey. When she spoke, her voice shook. “You should restrain me.”

  Eve purposely hadn’t packed handcuffs or rope. “With what?”

  “We must have something in the car.” Selene glanced at the bedroom door, then blinked as though trying to remember what she was saying. “I’m not safe.”

  “You’re not dangerous.” Truthfully, Eve had no idea how tonight’s transformation would go. Neither of them did. From what she gathered, it had been years since Selene tried this without being tied down. But Eve knew that once the change happened, Selene would be harmless—at least to Eve. “It’ll be fine, darling. I promise.”

  “How can you know?”

  “I just do.”

  “But—”

  Eve silenced her with a gentle kiss. Then she whispered, “Tomorrow when you wake up, it’ll be to me saying, ‘I told you so.’”

  Selene buried her face in Eve’s neck like an upset child. “You have no idea how badly I hope that’s true.”

  Eve knew Selene didn’t trust her “beast-self,” as she called it, and maybe never would. Though she’d expected Selene to cut herself some slack after the night that “monstrous beast-self” saved Eve’s life, it hadn’t worked out that way. Which was exactly why Eve had a plan for tonight.

  Running her fingers through Selene’s hair, Eve murmured, “You would never hurt me, Selene. You’ll see.”

  *

  Selene awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed with her heart pounding. She didn’t know where she was or why she’d woken so abruptly, and it took a few minutes of sifting through her brain to get her bearings. She was at the cabin, alone in the big bed, naked. Her entire body throbbed with a moon hangover.

  Eve was nowhere to be found.

  Forcing herself to stay focused and not assume the worst, Selene closed her eyes and reached out mentally for her partner. She felt Eve’s answering presence immediately, assuring her that she was safe. Then the bedroom door opened, and Eve came in carrying her laptop and wearing a shit-eating grin.

  “Sleep well?”

  Selene laughed, then flinched at the harsh sound. “I think so?”

  Eve smiled. “You seemed to.” Wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of cotton panties, she crossed to the bed and climbed in beside Selene. Despite her exhaustion, Selene couldn’t help craning her neck to sneak a peek between Eve’s creamy thighs. “I saw that,” Eve said as she opened her laptop. “Hold that thought, okay?”

  “If you insist.” Though Selene was curious about her lost full-moon night, she stayed quiet. It was obvious enough that she hadn’t harmed Eve, which meant that her biggest fears hadn’t come to pass. Sensing that Eve wanted to show her something, she decided to wait before asking questions.

  Eve double-clicked on a file and the video player window appeared on-screen. The frozen image was of Selene, naked. Lying on the ground.

  Heat rose on Selene’s cheeks. “Eve!”

  “Wait. Watch.” Eve clicked Play, and within seconds Selene was watching the beginning of last night’s transformation.

  No wonder she didn’t r
emember Eve using a camcorder. She’d been out of her mind. Selene leaned closer, no longer embarrassed by the sight of her recorded nudity. This was something she’d never seen before.

  It looked awful. She writhed on the ground, moaning, before letting out an enraged growl that made the camera shake. “This part was a little scary,” Eve said. “But just wait.”

  Selene watched in horror as her body convulsed, then exploded outward into the monstrous shape of an enormous silver wolf. Her mouth hung open as she studied her beast form—this was her first glimpse of the thing she feared most. Hulking and freakishly large, she cut an intimidating figure. When the wolf stared up into the camera with shining green eyes, then leapt at Eve, Selene let out a startled scream.

  Eve chuckled. “Calm down. Watch.”

  But Selene had already relaxed. On the video, Eve was laughing out loud as the wolf bumped its head against her thighs. Selene stared at the sight of Eve’s hand, so small and pale, stroking silver fur as though petting the family dog. The video cut to a new scene. Eve sitting on the couch, a book resting open on her knees, as Selene’s beast-self lay on the floor with her head propped on Eve’s feet.

  “Warming your feet,” Selene murmured, recalling Eve’s prediction at the beginning of the weekend.

  Eve just grinned.

  One more scene: Eve lying in bed, the wolf beside her. Eve running her hand up and down the wolf’s—Selene’s—belly, while Selene soaked it up. Then Eve spoke: “What a small price to pay for the wonder inside you.”

  The video ended. Eve deleted it immediately, then shut the laptop and turned to Selene. Eyes shining, Eve climbed into Selene’s lap and held her tightly. It was only when Selene laid her face on Eve’s shoulder that she felt her own tears.

  And she realized that she’d never felt happier—or quite so free.

  Eve made a joyful noise. “I told you so.”

  Tempora Mutantur

  Jane Fletcher

  “Why did this happen to me?” The bleakness of my question matched the cold rain. Distant thunder reverberated through the shroud of black cloud, draped over the city. “Is this what it feels like to turn into a monster?”

  The wind fractured into sharp gusts, slicing at exposed skin. I moved to the other side of the alcove, seeking shelter, but my eyes remained trained on the parking lot—on her car and the path she’d take from the staff entrance—never flinching, even when a hard salvo of rain stung my face.

  I tormented the part of myself that so desperately didn’t want to be there, playing the game that in another five minutes I’d give up and leave. A cruel hoax. I knew I wouldn’t go. I couldn’t. I stayed in place the day before, and I’d be here tomorrow.

  Her schedule was imprinted on my memory. The subterfuge involved in getting it was one more reason to despise myself—fraudulent phone calls and timesheets snatched from notice boards. For a split second, I glanced down at my watch. Her shift had ended forty minutes ago, but she rarely left on time. More often than not, an emergency would delay her. She might not appear for hours, maybe all night. But I would wait, alone in the cold and gathering dark, just for one brief glimpse of her.

  My own job took second place. I’d tweaked and cut my timetable so I could be waiting when she left work. Back in the early days, I’d occasionally missed seeing her. No longer. I couldn’t stay away. Last week, when she was on an early shift, I’d called in sick, just to watch her walk those thirty yards from door to car. How much longer could I keep it up? I’d lost any hope the desperate need to see her would fade. If anything, it was getting stronger.

  “How have I turned into a stalker?”

  I no longer dared to confide in my friends. I knew what they’d say. And what they’d think, but leave unsaid. I was losing my mind, along with my self-respect. Maybe it was time to find a shrink. We could pry into the twisted recesses of my mind. Or would I only get the same bland reassurances my friends had offered? Dr Patricia Mallory saved my life. Of course she’d left an impression on me, a huge debt of gratitude. In the circumstances, an adolescent crush was no cause for surprise. It’s only natural I’d imagine some deep bond between us. Everyone would feel the same.

  But everyone wasn’t waiting in the cold dusk, soaked by rain, staring at a car park.

  I had no hope of getting her out of my head. The dreams made sure of that. They’d started while I lay, an inch from death, in the grip of swine flu. I’ve no memory of those days, but my family filled in the dramatic details, such as the nurse summoning them to say a final good-bye to my unconscious body. Everyone had given up on me, except Dr Mallory. She worked around the clock, a modern-day sorceress stealing me back from the underworld. Had my subconscious sucked my saviour into fever-racked dreams and buried her there so deeply I’d never be free?

  Every night the same stories repeated, with each retelling growing clearer, more detailed, more convincing. The most common dream was easily explained—a simple fantasy of repaying the debt by saving her from the volcano. Others were fragments taken from films and books, a miscellany of trite travelogues, bodice rippers, bad B movies, and butchered classics that had no place in the imagination of anyone past puberty. Regardless of the source, the castles, cow-barns, fires, and sinking boats were becoming as familiar as the city I lived in. No common thread bound them, except the two of us together.

  Always us together.

  That morning, my alarm clock had torn me from a dream, less dramatic than most, but heart-stopping in intensity. We stood, inches apart, at the edge of a forest, overlooking the smoking chimneys of a town. A procession of horse carts clogged the roads. Distance softened the drivers’ shouts into an accompaniment for the birdsong. Then she turned to me, staring centuries deep into my eyes. And I wanted to kiss her so much the world vanished; so much I would give my life for it; so much it made my fingernails ache. She leaned toward me, inclining her head, her eyes closing…

  …and the diabolic alarm had sounded, calling me back to a day of lectures and seminars.

  I shook raindrops from my face, wishing I could as easily shake away the memories. The shift in balance squeezed water from my socks. Cold, oozing between my toes, pulled my gaze from the car park. A puddle had formed in the alcove. How long had I been standing in it, oblivious? Three months had passed since I’d been discharged from the hospital. I’d stood watch in similar cloudbursts and knew the alcove would soon be a foot deep in oily water.

  The rain hardened. I scuttled across the road, panicking I might miss her while dodging traffic. The bus shelter was my second favourite viewpoint. It was closer to the car park, but she’d be hidden until she rounded the corner of the outpatient block. A few seconds less of my pitiful daily dose of Dr Mallory.

  I was now a bare ten yards from her car in its allocated spot. Despite the cold, my palms grew sweaty at the thought she would pass so close. Anticipation was tinted by the fear she might spot me, even though I was mostly hidden by bushes lining the hospital perimeter.

  Behind me, cars splashed by, sending up walls of water. Most had their headlights on. The hospital windows shone in the thickening gloom, surrounded by glittering halos of rain. Autumn was advancing and the nights were drawing in. Stalking her in freezing snow wouldn’t be fun, but I’d be there. My life was reducing to these few seconds of her each night.

  If I gave up my job, I could watch her arrive at work and double my exposure. Or I could find out where she lived. Thoughts of following her home were growing stronger, and I couldn’t hold out much longer. Still I battled the compulsion, refusing to succumb. My last line of defence. Because once I gave in, my descent into stalkerdom would be complete. I was so far beyond being able to help myself.

  “What sick spell have you cast on me, Dr Patricia Mallory?”

  The sound of footsteps. Her footsteps. Blindfolded, I could have picked them out of a passing parade, complete with marching bands. She’d left work.

  A ripple of relief that I’d soon be able to go home and dry off cras
hed into a wall of misery. Once she drove away there’d be nothing to look forward to, until tomorrow. Both emotions were overwhelmed when she appeared, head down to shield her face from the rain, her hand fumbling in her pocket. Watching her became the only thing that mattered, the only activity holding any meaning or value. My eyes ached with the strain. She reached the blue sedan and pulled out her car keys.

  A click came from my right, followed by buzzing overhead. I flinched at the sounds, although my attention didn’t waver, as the fluorescent tube in the shelter canopy battered its way into life. The automatic timer had turned on earlier than in previous weeks, due to the shortening days. Light flowed over me. The flare caught Dr Mallory’s attention and she looked up from her car door, straight at me.

  Time stopped. My chest contracted. My body turned to lead. She also stiffened, staring at me through the driving rain. Only her hair was moving in the gusting wind.

  Would she remember me? Had she recognised me? And how many times would she need to catch me out, stalking her, before she took the matter to the police? She continued to stare, clearly already knowing something was awry. A stranger at a bus stop did not warrant so much notice.

  An eternity later, she dropped the keys back in her pocket and stepped away from the door. Fear gripped my stomach, certain she would flee back to the hospital in search of security guards. Instead, she moved around the car, edging through the gap between it and the wet bushes. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, avoiding puddles, but she was clearly heading for the pathway through to the bus shelter.

  Fluorescent light glinted off raindrops on her cheek and eyelashes when she stopped, a scant three feet away. It was the first time since I’d been discharged that we were close enough to talk, close enough to touch. The weight of my longing tugged on muscle and bone, pinning my arms to my side.