Blue moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,70

of lycanthropy. If Mel had had rabies, he should have been cured, not killed.

If I believed Mandenauer that far, why not go the entire way and buy into a Nazi werewolf army? I wouldn't put it past them.

So who was a werewolf and who wasn't? It was impossible to tell, unless I shot everyone with silver. I wasn't willing to do that. Yet.

Sunlight filled the room. I should be in bed, but 1 wasn't the least bit tired. I got out of my uniform and into my swimming suit. Then I tossed what passed as a purse for me - a small plastic makeup case sans makeup, with just enough room for a few personal necessities, my keys and my ID - into a gym bag along with a towel, some water, my gun of course, the totem - I wasn't letting the thing out of my sight - and headed for my pond.

I needed the exercise. I needed the release. I needed the peace of my own special place just to think.

Theoretically I should be safe - it was broad daylight.

Half an hour later as I swam back and forth, back and forth, across the pond I pondered some more.

Who could I trust? Mandenauer said no one, but he could be nuts for all I knew. I certainly didn't trust him. No more than I trusted Cadotte.

Closing my eyes, I remembered the big, sleek black wolf I'd encountered the first night I'd hunted with Man-denauer. The way the animal had moved reminded me of Cadotte. Or maybe it was the other way around.

I swam until my head stopped spinning, pushing myself until all I could think about was the next stroke, the next kick. The sun was warm first on my back, then on my face. Peace settled into my soul. This was what I had come here for.

When I couldn't drag myself any farther, I crawled out of the water and sat on the bank, trailing my toes along the surface.

The sounds of nature surrounded me - bees buzzing, birds twittering. A frog splashed into the pond on the far side. A fish flipped its tail in the center. I rooted around in my bag for my water, tilted my head, drank.

And the forest went silent.

I swallowed what was left in my mouth, but my tongue was still dry. I lowered my head, and my eyes scanned the tree line just as he stepped out of the woods.

He was as naked as he'd been the first time I'd seen him. As he walked across the meadow separating us, the birds started to sing again. A crow swooped nearly down to his head, then up to the treetops. He didn't notice. His gaze was focused on me.

I watched him walk and was reminded again of the wolf. Loose hips, long strides.

I frowned with a sudden memory. His hip. The night I'd met him he'd had a nasty bruise there.

Again I experienced the mythical click in my head of a puzzle piece. I'd forgotten about the bruise, since it bore no relationship to anything. Unless you considered a wolf could become a man. And what if that wolf had just been tapped by the bumper of a great big SUV? Would the man then bear the bruise?

Keeping my eyes on Cadotte, I let my hand slide over to my gun. He stopped several feet away.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Don't you want to see me?"

"I'm seeing quite a bit of you. Where're your clothes?"

He glanced down, blinked as if he was as surprised to see all of him as I was. "I was working out."

"You work out in the buff?"

"Don't you?"

I swept my free hand down my body to indicate my perfectly modest one-piece swimming suit.

"Obviously not."

He shrugged. "I was practicing my tai chi."

The ripple of lean muscle beneath his skin, the shine of the sun across his belly, his shoulders, his hair, was making me forget I should probably shoot him.

"Was that what you were doing the night we met?"

"Of course."

How convenient. Too bad I wasn't buying it.

"You were practicing at four in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep."

Because he'd been chasing - something - through the woods and been hit by a car.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't. I called." He looked away as if embarrassed. "All your numbers. When you didn't answer I thought you might be here. So I walked over."

I glanced at the trees, gauged the