Thunder Moon (Nightcreature 8)

The memory amused me now, but back then I’d insisted we go home, and I hadn’t returned for two weeks. Though I knew E-li-si had wanted to talk about it, I’d pretended nothing ever happened.

“She could walk me into the ground any day of the week,” I continued. “One Saturday I showed up early and she wasn’t there. I waited on the porch and saw her running up the driveway. I’m not slow, but I never would have caught her. I don’t think a U.S. track-and-field star could have caught her.”

Ian remained silent and waited for me to finish.

“But the most interesting thing of all was when we ran into a bear after dusk one night. Usually bears run the other way, but this one had cubs. They sprinted right up to us. I didn’t think, I set my hand on one, and the mother came bellowing out of the trees. Grandmother put herself in front of me and—”

“What?”

“She snarled.” I heard again the sound she’d made—feral and furious. It had stopped that bear cold.

“Like a panther?” he asked.

I’d never heard a panther before that day, but after—I’d gone to the library, the Internet. I’d searched and searched until I found a recording; then I’d known the truth.

“Yes. She snarled like a panther, and the bear and her cubs ran away.”

“What did your great-grandmother say about it?”

“Nothing.”

“She didn’t teach you—?”

“I didn’t want to hear about it then, and by the time I did, she was gone.”

He shook his head, disappointed.

“I was a kid. My father constantly told me that he’d put an end to my visiting her if I started to act weird. I needed to see her; I couldn’t take that chance, so I pretended nothing magical happened, and she let me.”

“She could access her other nature like I can. That’s a gift not everyone has.”

“I certainly don’t.” And I never would, because I’d been too cowardly to fight for what was important, and now it was gone forever.

“Not necessarily,” Ian said. “How do you explain the animosity between Elise and you if there isn’t a little canine-versus-feline involved?”

My hands clenched on the steering wheel as I turned into Quatie’s long, rutted drive. “Maybe we just don’t like each other. She is kind of a pain.”

“And you’re not?”

“Hey!”

“You have to admit your social skills could use some work.”

I wasn’t going to admit anything, even if he was right. “E-li-si told me we were connected to the panther in a way no one else could ever be.”

“She was right.”

“But she died without teaching me what to do.”

“There might still be a way

, if you’re interested.”

I bounced into Quatie’s yard and turned off the motor. “Would your spell work for me?”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to or not. The thought of losing control of myself, of becoming something else, even partially, scared me.

“No.”