She thrust the thought aside. She would not think of that now. The sun was high in the sky; it was a beautiful, clear day. Last night's rain had left the earth smelling fresh and clean. Birds sang cheerfully in the treetops. Squirrels and chipmunks were scampering on the ground, chattering and chasing each other from tree to tree and branch to branch.
Feeling somewhat like Eve exploring the Garden of Eden, Regan started walking, praying that she wouldn't come across any snakes or mountain lions along the way. She wouldn't go far, just a short stroll to stretch her legs. Wildlife was plentiful, she noted. A doe bounded across her path. She saw a skunk moving sedately through the trees. A short time later, she happened upon a narrow trail that wound its way upward. Curious, Regan followed it for several yards, smiling when the trail led her to a small pool.
Kneeling at the edge, she rinsed her face and hands and ran her fingers through her hair. When she looked up again, she saw a gray wolf watching her from the other side of the pool, but it wasn't like any wolf she had ever seen before.
For one thing, it had hazel eyes. For another, she didn't think it was flesh and blood. She wasn't sure why she felt that way, unless it was because the creature seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, as if it wasn't made of flesh and bone, but what was even more strange was that it cast no shadow.
She stared at the wolf, thinking how odd it was that she wasn't afraid.
She lost track of time as she sat there gazing at the wolf. It seemed as though a river flowed between them, not of water, but of understanding.
She was somewhat startled when she heard a voice in her mind. It was a deep voice, an old man's voice murmuring, "Pahin Sapa."
Frowning, she repeated the words, though they meant nothing to her.
The wolf barked once, as if to say "yes."
Regan leaned forward, thinking she must be losing her mind to think that a wolf was speaking to her telepathically. "Pahin Sapa. Is that your name?"
The wolf barked again.
"What are you doing here?" Regan wondered aloud. "Where did you come from? And why do you have hazel eyes?"
The wolf smiled at her, its tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth.
"This is too weird," Regan muttered, shaking her head. She glanced up, surprised to see the sun was no longer high in the sky. "Stick around," she said, "should be quite a show later tonight."
With a wave of its tail, the wolf turned and disappeared into the trees.
Regan remained where she was for a long while, feeling as though she was caught between two worlds and not sure if she belonged in either one. Tonight she would know if Vasile's bite had cursed her to become a werewolf or not, and all she could do until then was wait and wonder and worry, though deep inside, she was afraid she already knew the answer.
As the sun slipped behind the mountains, she began to tremble uncontrollably. Nerves, she thought, it was just a bad case of nerves. And yet it was more than that. She felt as though her skin no longer fit, as if she had woken up wearing someone else's body.
She was trying to summon the strength to rise and return to the cave when Santiago found her.
There was no need for words. He took one look at her pale face, the tremors that wracked her slender frame, and pulled her to her feet and into his embrace.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. Shaking so badly she could hardly speak, she said, "I'm… so… afraid."
"I know." He stroked her hair and her back, all the while promising her that it would be all right, that he would be there with her through the night, that there was nothing for her to be afraid of.
"I'm sorry to be… such a coward."
"You are not a coward."
She buried her face against his chest. "I've faced vampires. I've staked vampires. I should be able to handle this."
"You are handling it just fine."
She looked up at him, her face drawn, her eyes brimming with tears. "Were you afraid, when you were turned?"
He nodded. "Afraid does not quite describe what I felt."
She sniffed back her tears, comforted somehow by the knowledge that he had once been afraid. "I talked to a wolf today."
"Indeed? And what did you talk about?"
"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"No. I believe you."
"You do? Really?"
"In the old days, the animals were not as they are today. They were bigger and stronger and had mystical powers. In those days, they were friends to the Indians and often spoke to them."
"But I'm not Indian. Anyway, I think I imagined the whole thing." She laughed self-consciously. "He told me his name was Pahin Sapa."
She didn't think she had ever seen Santiago looked surprised, but he was definitely flabbergasted now.
"You are sure that is what he said?"
"Yes, I think so, why?"
"Pahin Sapa is the name of the shaman we came here to see, the one who was killed."
The moon had taken command of the sky by the time Santiago and Regan returned to the cave.
Anxiety rolled off Regan in waves so strong it was palpable, almost visible, provoking an answering tension in Santiago. The only werewolf he had ever seen shift had been Vasile and, due to the werewolf's age, the transformation had happened in an instant.
Inside the cave, Regan began to pace. She couldn't sit still, couldn't stop shaking. She kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket as heat built inside her. Then she paced some more. Time and again, she reached up to explore her face with her hands, as if to reassure herself that nothing had changed, then, uttering a harsh cry of dismay, she came to an abrupt halt. She was trembling uncontrollably now.
Eyes wide, she stared at Santiago. "It's happening," she whispered. "Oh, lord, it's happening now. Make it stop! Please, make it stop!"
"Try to stay calm," Santiago said. "Listen to the sound of my voice."
Regan saw his lips move but his words had no meaning. She clutched her stomach, doubling over as a burning sensation spread through her, as if all her internal organs were on fire, melting and reforming. There was a buzzing inside her head. Her skin rippled, her bones popped and cracked as they realigned themselves. With a hoarse cry, she dropped to her hands and knees, staring in horror at the thick coat of fur that sprouted from her arms, the strong claws that replaced her fingernails.
Looking up at Santiago, she cried, "Help me!"
He shook his head, helpless to do anything for her now except watch as the transformation progressed. Her shirt and jeans ripped at the seams and she shook them off.