Manhattan Moon

by Jae

Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.

http://www.ylva-publishing.com

Copyright 2012 Jae

Smashwords Edition

First Edition: October 2012

Edited by Judy Underwood

Cover Design by Krystel Contreras

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of contents

Acknowledgment

Author’s note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About Jae

Coming from Ylva Publishing in spring 2013

Acknowledgments

As always, a big thank-you to my beta readers, Pam, Erin, Peggy, Sheryl, and Patty, and to my critique partners, RJ, Melanie, and Astrid. RJ also provided me with inside information about emergency rooms in the US—thanks for that too.

I also want to thank Marion for test reading. I promise that no wolves were harmed in the making of this novella.

Another thank-you goes to Judy for editing Manhattan Moon and to Krystel for creating yet another beautiful cover.

Author’s note

This novella is not really a sequel to Second Nature. It’s more of a spin-off. While it takes place in the world of the shape-shifting Wrasa, the story has two entirely new main characters.

I’m a psychologist, not a psychiatrist, but I tried to be thorough in my research. If there are any inaccuracies, please blame them on the full moon.

Chapter 1

Shelby Carson hip-checked the car door closed and crossed the psych ER’s parking lot. She breathed in the crisp fall air, preparing her sensitive nose for the smells that would hit her as soon as she entered Bayard Medical Center.

When she glanced up at the dark sky, she realized a full moon was shining down on her. “Oh, wonderful,” she murmured. “A full moon on Halloween. Just what I need.”

Contrary to popular belief, the moon had no effect on her fellow shape-shifters, but humans seemed to go crazy during a full moon.

The automatic doors of the back entrance whooshed open. Shelby strode down the hallway and had to unlock two sets of double doors before she reached the attending’s on-call room. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of chips, stuffy air, and disinfectant, she squeezed past the desk and the narrow bed. With practiced movements, she slipped out of her street clothes and into a set of scrubs. She clipped her ID badge to the scrub shirt and the beeper to her waistband, then shoved a pen into the chest pocket, feeling like a knight getting ready for battle.

As she left the on-call room, the sounds and smells of the psych ER engulfed her. In one of the isolation rooms, someone shouted and banged on the door, and in the next room, an off-key voice sang Broadway musicals. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as one of the nurses rushed down the corridor.

She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the triage area, weaving her way around gurneys and wheelchairs lined up in the corridor. The stench of sweat, cleaning agents, and metabolized alcohol made her wish for the stunted sense of smell her human colleagues possessed. Then she picked up the subtle scent of jasmine.

Shelby grinned. She would recognize that scent anywhere. Nyla.

Just inside the front door, Nyla Rozakis sat behind the triage desk.

Shelby paused and drank in the sight of her.

In the midst of the typhoon that was the triage area, Nyla was an island of peace. She brushed back a midnight-black strand of hair that had escaped her French braid as she stood and rounded the desk. Her eyes, almost as dark as her hair, didn’t seem to register the psych techs and security guards, who were wrestling to restrain a screaming man. She was focused solely on her own patient.

Nyla stooped down a little to address her patient, who was sitting in a wheelchair, and asked, “Do you know where you are?”

“In hell,” the patient grumbled.

Wrong answer, buddy. Shelby suppressed a grin. A psych ER is not a good place for sarcasm if you don’t want to appear psychotic.

“Can you tell me today’s date?” Nyla asked.

The patient told her, and Nyla made a quick note in his chart without taking her gaze off the patient for more than a second.

“Do you have any weapons on you? Any sharp objects?”

The patient shook his head, but his hands went to his coat pockets.

Shelby tensed, ready to step in should he pull out a weapon.

But Nyla didn’t need her help.

“Ben.” After a wave from Nyla, one of the security guards helped her search the patient’s pockets. They laid the contents of his pockets onto the triage desk: a lighter, a glass pipe, and—Shelby squinted—a pair of vampire fangs.

Humans. She grimaced.

When another nurse led the patient into an interview room, Nyla looked up. A welcoming smile dimpled her cheeks. “Hi, Dr. Carson.”

“Hello, Nyla.”

“I didn’t think you’d be working tonight,” Nyla said and went back to filling out the intake sheet. “I thought you volunteered to work Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

She knows my on-call schedule? Shelby held back a delighted grin. “I don’t mind covering the ER on holidays,” she said. “It isn’t worse than any other day.” Wrasa didn’t celebrate human holidays anyway, so she’d volunteered to work the night shift on Halloween when she’d seen that Nyla would also be on duty.

“Famous last words, Doctor.”

“Busy night, huh?” Shelby asked.

“Full moon on Halloween in New York City—if that’s not a recipe for madness, I don’t know what is. We have fifteen new admissions and eight still in triage. All isolation rooms are in use, and EMS keeps bringing in new patients.”

Before Shelby could think of a way to ask Nyla out for coffee later, loud grunts and moans from the waiting area interrupted them.

Shelby whirled around and took in the crowded waiting area. On one of the blue plastic chairs bolted to the wall sat a young woman clutching her belly. “Has she been cleared by the medical ER?” Shelby asked.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing physically wrong with her. She just thinks she’s giving birth.” Nyla stepped next to Shelby. Shoulder to shoulder, they gazed at the moaning patient.

Shelby wanted to moan too as she breathed in the intoxicating scent of jasmine. She tried to keep her voice light and professional. “Another baby Jesus?”

“No, this one thinks she’s giving birth to the child of a vampire slayer.”

“Vampire slayer?” Shelby arched her brows. Every time she thought she’d seen it all, a new patient surprised her. The psych ER patients weren’t short on creativity. “Didn’t anyone tell her that Buffy is a woman and can’t get her pregnant?”

Nyla’s dimples deepened. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Dr. Carson. There are plenty of options for a lesbian who wants to get her partner pregnant.”

Shelby marveled at the casual remark. Does she know I’m gay? Is she? She had asked herself that question for months now, but her diagnostic skills failed when it came to figuring out Nyla’s sexual orientation.

When silence grew between them, Shelby finally said, “I better get to work. See you later. And please keep her,” she pointed at the grunting patient in the waiting area, “away from Mr. Fangs.” She peered up at the board that listed patients still waiting to be seen, then grabbed a chart from the rack and went to see her first patient of the night.

* * *

Hours later, Shelby dropped into a chair at the nurses’ station. “Frank, is Mr. Sheridan’s urine tox back?”

“Just got it.” The nurse slid a sheet of paper in front of her.

She initialed the lab report and took a look. “Just what I thought. Strung-out on meth. Put him in one of the observation rooms.” She turned back to the stack of files in front of her and then looked back up. “Oh, and would you get me the number of Mrs. Clayburn’s therapist, please?”

While she wrote a discharge order for another patient, she became aware of the tingling of her skin. Her body buzzed as if charged with electricity. That’s what the constant chaos of a night like this always did to her. Working in the psych ER was like diving into a hurricane: a maelstrom of loud, unpredictable action, the unpleasant smells of sweat, urine, and booze almost drowned out by the stench of fear and the heady tang of mania.

Every other Wrasa would hate her job. She was the only shape-shifter on staff and, as far as she knew, the only Wrasa emergency psychiatrist in the world. Few Wrasa could handle the constant adrenaline rush and still be able to focus on their job while fighting against the urge to shift.

But Shelby was different. For some reason, she had a very high threshold for changing into her coyote form. It had made her an outsider as a teenager and still caused her family to shake their heads in puzzlement and humiliation when she had problems shifting during the monthly family get-togethers in the forest, but it also enabled her to do her job. And Shelby loved her job. She was drawn to the fast pace and the challenge of helping so many different patients.

“Dr. Carson?”

Even before Shelby looked up, a hint of jasmine made a smile spread over her face.

Nyla stood before her, one shapely hip propped against the counter.

After watching her for months, she knew Nyla was a leaner, constantly leaning against something as if it grounded her in the middle of chaos. Her presence had the same effect on Shelby.

“Will you come look at a patient with me?” Nyla asked.

Shelby lifted one brow. It was an unusual request. Normally, the nurses did the initial evaluation without consulting one of the doctors. Only after reading Nyla’s report would Shelby or another psychiatrist talk to the patient. “Sure, but what’s so special about him? Is he one of our frequent fliers?”

“No, I’ve never seen him before, but I have a weird feeling about him, and I thought it might save us some time to talk to him together.”

Shelby had learned to trust the instincts of a good nurse. She got up without hesitation. “What’s his story?” she asked as they walked over to the triage area.

“He’s a twenty-two-year-old white male,” Nyla said. “The police brought him in for a pre-arraignment eval because he says he’s hearing voices.”

Voices? Shelby’s diagnostic mind came up with half a dozen possible causes for auditory hallucinations. Schizophrenia was high on her list, especially since the patient’s age was typical for a first psychotic break, but she also couldn’t rule out drugs. An interview would tell her more. “What are the charges?” she asked.

“Assault with a deadly weapon.” Nyla met Shelby’s questioning gaze. “He attacked his girlfriend with a scythe.”

“A scythe?” It never ceased to amaze Shelby how inventive humans were when it came to hurting each other.

Nyla nodded. One corner of her mouth lifted in a sarcastic half-smile. “Apparently, they were at a Halloween party and he was dressed up as the Grim Reaper at the time.”

“The Grim Reaper.” Shelby shook her head. “Looks like I can add another famous patient to my list of references.” She unlocked a set of double doors and motioned for Nyla to step through first. They entered the triage area, which looked more like a police station than the entrance to the psych ER.

Two police officers stood around, trading war stories with the security guard, while two other officers guarded a struggling and shouting patient.

“That’s him,” Nyla said, pointing at the patient standing between the two officers. She glanced at her clipboard. “Joseph Linwood.”

Shelby wrinkled her nose at the smell of blood, alcohol, and smoke that clung to the man. She resisted the urge to step between him and Nyla. She doesn’t need a shifting-handicapped coyote to protect her.

“Officers,” she greeted his guards and nodded down at their weapons. “You guys shooting blanks?”

The officers glowered at her, but Nyla chuckled. “If you mean did we unload our weapons before coming in, yeah,” the taller officer said. He hiked his uniform pants up over his slight potbelly. “We know the rules.”

“Sorry,” Shelby said with a grin. “You know us shrinks. We have a weird sense of humor.”

“You can joke around all you want as long as you take this creep off our hands,” the officer said.

Shelby stepped closer to the patient, trying to catch a whiff of the man’s body chemistry. But the stench of violence and partying was too heavy for her to use her nose for diagnosing. “Let’s get him into an interview room.”

While the officers led the patient into the interview room, Shelby rearranged the chairs, positioning hers and Nyla’s next to the door. Just in case.

Once the patient was seated, Shelby sat across from him. “If we take off the handcuffs, will you behave yourself?”

“Sure,” the patient said. “The voices are quiet for now.”

She motioned toward the handcuffs. “Let’s take these off.”

One of the officers stepped forward and removed the handcuffs.

Shelby leaned forward. “Mr. Linwood, my name is Dr. Carson. I’m one of the attending psychiatrists here.”

“Then you can help me. I need help. I’m hearing voices, constantly. They’re driving me crazy. You should probably admit me to the hospital. You can hold me for seventy-two hours, right?”

No psych history and he’s that well-informed? Shelby glanced at Nyla. She’s right. Something about this guy is off. “We can,” she folded her hands on her lap, “but we rarely do. If you need help beyond just a night, we’d admit you to a unit upstairs or to a psychiatric hospital.”

“Whatever.” Linwood kicked out his heels, sprawling in his chair as if he intended to make himself at home. “I just think I need to be admitted. Maybe it can help stop those damn voices.”

“So these voices ... what are they saying?” Shelby asked.

“They’re telling me to kill people. To kill myself.” He swung his hands as if hitting someone with a club ... or a scythe.

Hmm. Unless he’s faking it, he might be a danger to himself and to others. This was her number one criteria in deciding whether to admit a patient. When the police brought over prisoners, she didn’t have to decide if they were mentally ill or might plead an insanity defense. For now, the police just needed her to decide whether the prisoner was stable enough for the arraignment.

“How long have you heard the voices?”

“Oh, I don’t know. For as long as I can remember. Started when I was just a little kid.” He indicated the size of a toddler.

Shelby met Nyla’s gaze. She bit her lip when she saw Nyla suppress a “gotcha” smile. They both knew that auditory hallucinations rarely started in childhood. And if he has heard voices for so long, how come he never sought psychiatric help before? Why now that he’s been arrested? Something wasn’t adding up here.

“So with hallucinations that severe, you probably see little green men too, right?” Shelby asked. She sent Nyla another quick glance, willing her not to react.

Nyla kept adding notes to the patient’s chart. Not even a muscle moved in her face.

Good. Play along.

“Yes, yes, I do!” Linwood looked at Shelby as if he were in awe of her professional insight. He sent her a smile. “How did you know?”

No blunted affect. This guy didn’t suffer from schizophrenia any more than she did. “Let’s just call it women’s intuition,” Shelby said.

A dimple appeared in Nyla’s cheek. She clicked off her pen.

“Okay, Mr. Linwood,” Shelby said. “Thanks for your patience. I think we can wrap up this interview now.” She got up but was careful not to turn her back to Joseph Linwood.

Eyes glinting, Linwood jumped up. “So you’re gonna admit me?”

“No.”

“No?” A scarlet color shot up his neck, and a vein began to pulse in his temple. “But I’m hearing voices!”

“Good for you, Mr. Linwood,” Shelby said. “It’s what we call having a conscience. Maybe these voices are now telling you that it’s not nice to lie to a psychiatrist to avoid prison.” She stretched out her arm, guiding Nyla out of the door.

“Bitch!” He tried to pick up his chair and throw it at them, but the chair on his side of the table was bolted to the floor.

The two police officers, who had waited right outside the room, rushed in and were on him before he could follow them.

Nyla glanced over at Shelby, merriment dancing in her dark eyes. “Little green men?”

“You ever heard of any truly psychotic patient who saw them?”

“No, but the night’s still young and it’s a full moon on Halloween. Anything can happen.”

Shelby grinned. Anything? She liked the sound of that. Maybe she’d find the courage to ask Nyla out before this crazy night was over.

* * *

The double doors crashed open, and two paramedics pushed a gurney into the psych ER.

Shelby barely glanced up from her discussion with one of the psych techs.

But then one of the patients in the triage area started screaming. “A werewolf! A werewolf! I knew it. They’ve come to kill us all.”

Shelby whirled around. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

The person on the stretcher was covered with a sheet, and one of the paramedics blocked Shelby’s view. All she could see was a bit of fur peeking out from beneath the sheet.

Fur?

It was light brown, streaked with a few ginger highlights. Shelby had seen that color before—it was the same as her own hair color and that of most coyote shifters.

Her heartbeat sped up at the thought of a Wrasa being wheeled into the ER, where someone would surely discover what he really was. She tried to catch a whiff of his smell, but from this distance all she detected was a dizzying mix of sweat, fear, jasmine, and fish sticks that had been somebody’s lunch.

Calm down. If this were one of us in coyote form, they would have taken him to the vet, not the psych ER. Besides, even in human form, Wrasa rarely suffered mental illnesses. Those who did were kept under close surveillance by their pack or pride.

She circled around and took a position next to Nyla, who was trying to take the fidgeting patient’s blood pressure. But instead of encountering human skin, she found long fur. A bushy tail hung limply down the gurney.

This can’t be true. Wide-eyed, Shelby stepped even closer. Then she let her gaze trail up his furry chest. Torn clothing covered the fur in some places as if the urge to shift had overcome him too fast to undress first.

Her own skin started to itch as her adrenaline level shot through the roof.

Her gaze traveled farther up. Shelby froze.

The patient’s face was all human.

A mask, complete with wolfish ears and large fangs, dangled on an elastic band around his neck. Shelby inflated her cheeks and blew out a long stream of air. It’s just some dumb Halloween costume.

Instantly, she vowed never to work the night shift on Halloween again.

When Nyla stripped off a glove that ended in fake claws, the patient pulled off the other one, then tried to get rid of the rest of his costume. “You wanna see more of my body, baby? Look, I have a perfect six-pack.”

“No, thanks.” Nyla helped the paramedics restrain his wandering hands. “Hairy chests aren’t my thing.”

Oh, really? Her comment caught Shelby’s attention. Had she been in her coyote form, she would have swiveled her ears to hear every nuance of Nyla’s tone.

“Why not?” the patient asked, his voice loud and enthusiastic. “I’m exactly what you’re looking for. We must become one.” He threw his head back and glanced over at Shelby and the EMTs as if they were his attentively listening audience. “We’re all one. All of us. Only once you give away all your worldly possessions and accept that all people, all things in the universe, are connected, only then will you be enlightened as I am.”

“Patient’s name is Lee Bowdan, twenty-six years old,” one of the paramedics said over the patient’s non-stop rambling. “No known allergies and not on any meds. He also claims he doesn’t have a psych history.”

Nyla shot her a quick look, and Shelby answered by arching a skeptical brow. Yeah, right. Hypersexuality, pressured speech, loose association ... He’s manic for sure. But was it drug-induced or did he have a manic or bipolar disorder?

“NYPD called us with an EDP,” the paramedic said, using the cop slang for an emotionally disturbed person. “He was standing in the middle of a Halloween party, trying to get people to throw away their wallets.”

“It was for their own good,” the patient shouted. “They need my guidance to realize they won’t get to the heavenly spheres by clinging to money!”

Heavenly spheres? Shelby added schizophrenia to the list of possible diagnoses. But before she could find out more, she had to bring him into one of the interview rooms. “Let’s go and talk about your fascinating ideas inside,” she said. This was when most patients lost control and began fighting against the people who wanted to help them. In some cases, they ended up medicated and restrained, so she wanted to get him inside as unobtrusively as possible.

Without pausing in his speech, the patient let himself be wheeled down the hall. He didn’t seem to notice when the doors clicked shut behind him.

“Frank, can you help Mr. Bowdan change out of his costume and into one of our fashionable gowns?” Shelby asked one of the nurses.

When Frank and Mr. Bowdan disappeared into the bathroom, Shelby turned to Nyla.

“My money is on manic disorder with psychotic symptoms,” Nyla said. “He probably went off his meds.”

Wanna bet? Your money against one date, Shelby wanted to say, but of course she didn’t. Cowardly coyote. “I’m not sure,” she said instead. “My nose is telling me it might be drugs.” Quite literally, but Nyla didn’t need to know that. When she had stood next to the patient, she caught a whiff of mushrooms on his breath.

“You’re thinking psilocybin?” Nyla asked.

Shelby nodded. “It’s possible.” The symptoms of a manic episode and the effect of psilocybin mushrooms sometimes appeared similar. “Can you make sure we get a urine sample from Mr. Bowdan?”

“Of course.”

When Nyla turned to walk away, Shelby called after her, “And —”

“Make sure to keep him away from the vampire slayer mom and Mr. Fangs,” Nyla said for her. Her laughter rippled over Shelby. “Will do.”

* * *

Shelby closed the tiny fridge in the staff room and carried her ham-and-bacon sandwich to one of the tables. Next to her, the copier and the fax machine whirred, but Shelby ignored the familiar sounds in the small room and focused on the conversation going on at one of the other tables.

Nyla sat with two of her colleagues, eating Chinese takeout. Her chopsticks moved in graceful arcs as she picked pieces of broccoli from her box and put them aside. Whenever they got Chinese takeout, Nyla ordered the Sesame Chicken and she always picked out the broccoli.

Others might have wondered why she didn’t just order something else, but Shelby found Nyla’s persistence endearing.

“Anyone ever have a patient with lycanthropy?” Julie, one of the third-year medical students, asked. “I read about it in one of my textbooks, and it sounds fascinating.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. What was it with humans and their strange fascination with werewolves?

“I don’t know about lycanthropy, but I once had a patient who came in growling and barking and bit one of the techs,” Frank said.

Hmpf. No shape-shifter Shelby knew had ever bitten a human. In their animal form, Wrasa were more likely to run and hide if they encountered humans.

Julie laughed. “Did the tech by any chance develop a strange preference for raw meat and start howling at the moon?”

We don’t howl at the moon. Shelby frowned down at her ham-and-bacon sandwich. And we rarely eat raw meat.

“Do they really think they can turn into wolves or other animals?” Julie asked. “You’d need to be pretty delusional to believe you can survive such a rearrangement of bones, joints, and organs.”

“Maybe they read too much of that paranormal romance stuff like someone else I know,” Frank said and flicked a bean sprout at her.

Julie threw her fortune cookie at him. “Hey, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Some of those novels are really good.”

“Too stereotypical for me,” Frank said. “I mean ... silver bullets, people who turn into wolves after being bitten ... That just exceeds my imagination.”

Shelby secretly pumped her fist under the table. Amen, brother.

“Not all of them are like that,” Julie said. “The latest J.W. Price novel isn’t even about werewolves. Her main character is a tiger-shifter.”

Shelby suppressed a smile. Her colleagues couldn’t know that Ms. Price’s shape-shifters lived among them and weren’t just figments of a writer’s overactive imagination.

Her gaze traveled to Nyla, who sat digging in her box of Chinese takeout and said nothing.

Strange. Usually, Nyla joked around with the others. Like most of the staff in the psych ER, she used her sense of humor to ease the constant stress in their line of work. But now Nyla kept silent. She fiddled with her chopsticks but didn’t eat.

The urge to go over and ask if everything was okay made Shelby forget about her own food, but if she did that, she would have to admit that she had observed Nyla from across the room.

The staff room’s door opened.

“Dr. Carson?” one of the nurses called. “I have Mrs. Clayburn’s therapist on the phone for you. He said you tried to reach him.”

“I’ll be there in a second.” With one last glance at Nyla, Shelby laid down her sandwich and strode to the nurses’ station.

* * *

Shelby let the door of the on-call room click shut behind her and leaned against the wall for a moment. Through the room’s tiny window, early-morning sunlight filtered in. Finally, the long and chaotic shift was over. The joking with her colleagues during sign-out had invigorated her for a while, but now exhaustion settled over her like a lead apron.

Stripping out of her scrub shirt, she crossed over to the narrow bed where she’d left her street clothes.

A knock on the door caught her with her Henley shirt partially on.

“Yes?” she called and tugged down the shirt.

The door opened, and Nyla stood in the doorway without entering. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know your shift is over and you have to be exhausted, but ...”

“Oh, no, I’m not exhausted at all,” Shelby said. She was never too tired to talk to Nyla. “Please come in.”

Nyla still didn’t enter. Her gaze was fixed on Shelby in a way that made her heart beat faster.

She followed Nyla’s gaze down and realized that she hadn’t buttoned her shirt. Her bra peeked out from beneath the shirt’s placket. “Oh.” Quickly, she fastened two of the buttons.

Nyla stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her gaze darted around, bouncing from the littered desk to the scrub shirt on the bed. She still didn’t say anything.

Hurriedly, Shelby lifted the latest edition of Journal of Psychiatry from her desk chair. “Please, sit down.”

When Nyla sat, Shelby perched on the edge of her bed. That left Nyla in the position of power and would hopefully make her feel more equal. She balanced her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, giving Nyla her full attention.

They gazed at each other across the corner of the desk.

Nyla licked her lips.

Why’s she so nervous? A sudden thought made Shelby giddy. Is she trying to ask me out?

Still not saying anything, Nyla reached up with her right hand and massaged her left shoulder.

Shelby stifled the urge to get up and take over the massage. “Hey. You look exhausted. Everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just pulled a double shift. Tina’s out sick.” At the last word, she painted quotation marks in the air with her index and middle fingers, which probably meant that Tina was out partying on Halloween.

Hmm. Then I doubt she’s got romance on her mind. Shelby swallowed her disappointment. A hot shower and a bed were probably the only things Nyla wanted right now. So why was she here instead of going home now that her shift had ended? “How can I help?” Shelby asked. “Want me to talk to administration about your shift schedules?”

“Oh, no. That’s not why I’m ... There’s something else I wanted to ask you.” In the silence of the on-call room, Nyla sucked in a breath. “Let’s say someone is seeing things that aren’t possible ...”

“Is there another patient you want me to see? I can stay a bit longer if you want.”

“No. It’s more of a ... hypothetical situation.”

Hypothetical situation? Shelby struggled to keep her expression neutral. What was going on with Nyla? “So this hypothetical person ... what kind of things is he or she seeing?”

Nyla looked down and studied her hands. “A werewolf,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She looked up. “And I’m not talking about Mr. Bowdan. I really saw —” She stopped and pressed her hand against her lips as if she wanted to take back the words. “I mean the hypothetical person saw a man change into a wolf.”

This isn’t a practical joke, is it? It wouldn’t be the first time her colleagues tried to pull her leg, but Shelby sensed that this was different. The smell of Nyla’s fear burned her nose. Shelby’s heartbeat hammered in her ears. Great Hunter, what’s going on? Had a Wrasa been stupid enough to shift right in front of Nyla? She rounded the desk with two steps and knelt next to Nyla. “Nyla. Look at me.”

Slowly, Nyla raised her gaze from her hands. Her eyes were even darker than usual, obsidian with fear and doubt.

“What did you see?” Shelby asked.

Nyla hesitated.

Shelby squeezed her hand. Nyla’s fingers were cold against her own warmer skin. And so very soft. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The answer came without hesitation.

“Then tell me.”

“Earlier, when I got takeout from that Chinese place across the street ...” Nyla squeezed her eyes shut. “Something rustled in the bushes next to the parking lot. When I glanced over, I saw a man ripping off his clothes and dropping to his hands and knees. He groaned and obviously was in a great deal of pain. I wanted to go over and help, but he changed into a wolf before my eyes.” A shiver shook her. She opened her eyes and glanced at Shelby. “Am I going crazy?”

Shelby clenched her teeth. When I find the damn stupid Wrasa who did this to her, I’m gonna have his pelt. “No.” Her voice boomed through the small room, louder than she had intended.

When Nyla stared at her, she softened her voice. “No, I’m sure you’re perfectly fine. You’re the most normal person I know.”

She desperately needed to convince Nyla of that—not just for her peace of mind. If Nyla told others about her encounter with the wolf-shifter, the Saru might hear about it. The Wrasa’s elite soldiers still liked to shoot first and ask questions later if a human knew too much about the shifters’ secret existence.

“Maybe what you saw was just a large dog,” Shelby said. “Or even a coyote. You know there were a few of them running around in Central Park a few months ago.”

At least, that was what they’d made the media believe. Only a handful of Wrasa knew that it had been a couple of Ashawe teenagers losing control of their newfound ability to transform into coyotes.

A mix of hope and doubt shone in the dark eyes.

She wants to believe me, even if her eyes told her something different.

“That still doesn’t explain how a man changed into a canine,” Nyla said.

“Let’s look at this logically, okay?” She stroked her thumb across the back of Nyla’s palm.

“Okay.”

“Then tell me, nurse,” Shelby made her voice playful, “what are the most common causes of visual hallucinations?”

A half-smile crept onto Nyla’s lips. “Well, I’m fairly sure we can rule out dementia and brain damage.”

“So,” Shelby said, “what other things can cause hallucinations?”

“Drug intoxication or withdrawal.”

“Are you taking any drugs?” Shelby asked.

Smiling, Nyla said, “Not counting the two gallons of coffee I drank to make it through this shift, no.”

“Next cause.”

“Schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders,” Nyla said. She tried to sound textbook-like, but fear flickered in her eyes.

Shelby pulled the desk chair around so that Nyla was now facing her directly. “Psychotic patients with visual hallucinations usually have more severe disorders than patients without visual hallucinations, right?”

Nyla nodded.

“Then it’s pretty unlikely that a person with isolated visual hallucinations and no other symptoms suffers from schizophrenia, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” The answer sounded like a relieved sigh.

“What else is there?” Shelby asked.

Nyla thought for a moment, then answered, “High fever.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding Nyla’s, Shelby reached up and gently cupped Nyla’s cheek.

Nyla leaned into the contact, and Shelby let her hand linger before she withdrew it. She cleared her throat. “You don’t feel overly warm. What else?”

“Prolonged visual deprivation.”

“You been blindfolded for any length of time lately?” Shelby asked with a playful wink.

Nyla’s dimples appeared for the first time since she had entered the on-call room. “Do you ask all of your patients such indelicate questions, Doctor?”

“Of course. Right out of the textbook. Are you avoiding the answer, nurse?”

A gentle nudge made Nyla chuckle. “I think we can rule out visual deprivation too.”

“Any other possible causes come to mind?”

“Extreme stress or sleep deprivation,” Nyla answered.

Shelby cocked her head. “Oh, you mean like working a double shift in a psych ER on Halloween during a full moon in The City That Never Sleeps?”

Now serious, all hints of a smile gone, Nyla stared at her. “You think that’s it? Just stress and lack of sleep?”

“During my residency, when I was working crazy hours, I once thought I’d seen a grizzly in my rocking chair.” The so-called grizzly had been her roommate, a bear-shifter, and she had turned Shelby’s beloved rocking chair into a pile of firewood when she sat down in it. But, of course, Nyla didn’t need to know those details.

Nyla rubbed both hands over her face, hiding her expression. “God.” She groaned into her palms. “I feel so foolish. I never should’ve bothered you with this.”

“Hey.” Gently, Shelby pulled Nyla’s hands away from her face and made eye contact. “You were worried about your mental health. You of all people should know that’s never foolish.”

When Nyla pushed back the desk chair to get up, Shelby stood and took a step back, giving Nyla room to stand too.

“Thank you, Dr. Carson.” The intense gaze of Nyla’s dark eyes conveyed her gratitude even better than her words could.

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad I could help. And since we’re both no longer on duty, please, call me Shelby.” She had wanted to make that suggestion for months now, but since nurses didn’t usually call doctors by their first names, she hadn’t known how to suggest a more informal greeting.

Nyla hesitated but then nodded. “Shelby.”

A pleasant shiver raced through Shelby at the sound of her name on Nyla’s lips.

With one more nod and smile, Nyla turned and walked to the door.

This is your chance. Ask her now! Her thoughts ping-ponged through her mind, and she desperately searched for the right words. Come on. Emergency psychiatrists are supposed to be so good at persuading others, chatting people up, improvising to get people to do what they want.

But when it came to Nyla, her professional skills meant nothing.

Nyla reached out for the doorknob. She opened the door.

“Nyla,” Shelby called just as Nyla crossed the threshold.

“Yes?” One foot already out the door, Nyla looked back over her shoulder.

Shelby said the next best thing that came to mind. “You really should relax more, take more time away from work.”

One dark eyebrow crept up Nyla’s forehead. “I think the pot is calling the kettle black. Aren’t you the one who volunteered to work Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas?” She didn’t sound accusing, just amused.

“Guess we both need to have some fun away from work.” Shelby clutched her hands behind her back. “We could go for a coffee sometime. Together, I mean.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

Damn. Caught. She blinked, but then a pleased smile darted across her face. She noticed that I don’t drink coffee! Quickly, she thought of something else humans usually considered fun and relaxing. “Then maybe we could go see a movie or something.”

Nyla tilted her head and studied her. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Shelby straightened to her full five feet six inches. Now or never. “Yes, I am.”

“Just when I thought nothing else could surprise me on a night like this,” Nyla mumbled.

“I know it might not be such a good idea,” Shelby said. “I mean, we work together. I’m a doctor, and you’re a nurse.” Not to mention I’m a Wrasa and you are an unsuspecting human. “I know theoretically I’m your boss, above you in the hospital hierarchy, and our bosses frown on that kind of relationship.” She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself, too afraid that Nyla would clearly voice a “no” should silence descend on them. “Chances are you’re not even gay, and you’re free to tell me to take a hike, but —”

Nyla took a step back into the room. “Yes.”

Shelby froze, mouth half open. “You want me to take a hike?”

“I mean yes, I’ll go out on a date with you.” A broad smile brought out Nyla’s dimples. “With Shelby, not Dr. Carson.”

Suddenly, Shelby felt like a manic person on meth. She wanted to shout out her joy but instead simply asked, “When?”

Nyla laughed. “Not today. I need eight hours of sleep, or I’m afraid I’ll see you turn into a frog should I kiss you goodnight.” A touch of red colored her olive complexion at her daring words.

Heat pulsed through Shelby at the mention of kissing. “How about tomorrow?” Her voice was trembling with eagerness.

“On one condition,” Nyla said and lifted her index finger.

Anything. Shelby gave an enthusiastic nod, prompting Nyla to state her condition.

“Let’s make the movie we see a romance, nothing with vampires or werewolves.”

Shelby grabbed her jacket and followed Nyla to the door. “No werewolves,” she promised. “A good romance is just what I want too.”

Chapter 2

Shelby waited until her cousin had finally caught her up on what was happening with all the cousins, uncles, and aunts. She switched the phone to the other side, scratched behind her free ear, and said, “Um, Jocelyn?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s assume for a moment that someone wanted to go on a date with a human ...” Since she couldn’t tell Jocelyn that she was planning on going out with a human, she would use a hypothetical situation, as Nyla had. Maybe Jocelyn could give her some advice on what to bring on a date. She was a psychologist who had studied human behavior after all. Shelby was pretty sure a human woman wouldn’t find a few pounds of roast very romantic.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jocelyn’s voice roared through the phone.

Coyote shit. Shelby lifted her shoulders to protect her sensitive ears from her cousin’s howling. It seemed hypothetical situations didn’t work any better for her than they had for Nyla. “What makes you think I’m talking about myself?”

Jocelyn snorted. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably because every time I ask about your work, you start going on and on about that nurse.”

Shelby furrowed her brow. She had always thought she had successfully avoided mentioning Nyla too often.

“Be careful, Shelby. If the pack finds out that your wonderful nurse is human and not a Wrasa ...”

Shelby wasn’t afraid. Not for herself at least. But if she imagined the council members setting their sights on Nyla ... She shivered. As a pup, she had heard stories about what happened to humans who found out about the Wrasa’s secret existence. In the past, the council had killed humans to silence them. Shelby swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t such a bright idea after all to go out with Nyla. “She’s not my nurse,” she protested weakly.

“Even if no one finds out,” Jocelyn said, ignoring Shelby’s objection, “what do you want with a human?” She made the word sound as if she had just spat out a foul-tasting bite of food. “It has no future.”

“Why not? Griffin Westmore and Jorie Price are very happy together,” Shelby said.

Jocelyn snorted. “They’re the exception. You can’t compare that nurse to a dreamseer like Ms. Price. She will never really know you. She’ll never understand what it means to be part of a pack or what it’s like to live as a hidden minority. And she’ll never be able to share the magic of a transformation with you.”

Now it was Shelby’s turn to snort. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last shifted shape? You know for me it’s not an effortless, joyful thing that I can share with a mate at the drop of a hat.”

Silence spread between them, as if Jocelyn was searching for comforting words or a logical retort but couldn’t find any. “Still,” she finally said, “you’re one of us. Not one of them.”

Us. Them. Shelby stared at the floor. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she just go out with this enchanting woman with the beautiful smile without it turning into a political act?

“I have an idea. I’ll bring one of my colleagues to our next family gathering. She’s a lesbian. And a Wrasa. Okay?”

“Sure,” Shelby said without enthusiasm.

Jocelyn started singing the colleague’s praises, but Shelby hardly listened. Even though she was a Wrasa, this woman couldn’t understand her any better than Nyla. No one could. For other Wrasa, shifting shape was as effortless and natural as breathing. And Jocelyn’s colleague wouldn’t smell half as good as Nyla. Shelby was sure of that. She bit her lip until she tasted blood. “Ouch.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Please don’t tell my parents about the stupid thing I almost did, okay?” She didn’t want to disappoint her family again.

“Don’t worry. You never told anyone about what happened to the neighbor’s rabbit, and I won’t tell anyone that you are tail over claws in love with a human.”

Not even the memory of Mrs. Gaines’s rabbit could make Shelby smile right now. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Oh, Great Hunter, how will I tell Nyla that going out isn’t such a good idea without hurting her?

* * *

Shelby lifted her nose and deeply breathed in the scent of jasmine. She remembered too late that she had wanted to avoid Nyla and the conversation they needed to have.

“Hey.” Nyla leaned her hip against the table next to Shelby and reached for a paper cup.

Despite her sadness, Shelby had to smile as she saw the posture that was so typical for Nyla. “Hi.”

Nyla poured herself a coffee and dropped a lump of sugar into the cup. Then another one. And finally a third one. With apparent fascination, she stared at the whirlpool her stirring created.

Shelby watched her out of the corner of her eye. Was Nyla deep in thought, or was she just as nervous as Shelby and had trouble looking her in the eyes?

Tell her now that you can’t go see the movie with her. Don’t string her along. Shelby gave herself a mental kick. “Nyla?”

“Yes?” Nyla looked up. The expression in her dark eyes was as open as that of a pup that rolled on her back in front of the pack’s alpha, trusting that her defenselessness wouldn’t be exploited.

Shelby’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. She stared at the paper cup so she wouldn’t have to look into Nyla’s eyes.

“A bit too much sugar. I know,” Nyla said. “But it’s three more hours until the end of the shift, and I have to stay awake somehow. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Shelby furrowed her brow. The thought that Nyla had tossed and turned the whole night made her wish she had been there to hold her. “I hope you’re not still worried about losing your mind.” A growl rose up in her chest as she thought about the Wrasa who had turned into a wolf or a coyote in front of Nyla.

“Oh, no. No, that’s not it. I was just …”

The scent of jasmine got stronger and mixed with a hint of salt.

Shelby looked up as Nyla hesitated. Even though she was about to cancel their date, she suddenly felt queasy. “You changed your mind and don’t want to go out with me?”

“No, no. No, really. That’s not it. I’m … really nervous.” Nyla straightened her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I dated. But I wouldn’t cancel our date for the world.”

Shelby beamed. “Me neith…” She stopped and bit her tongue. Then she sighed and said, “Me neither.” The heck with it. It’s only one date, and the council will never find out. It’s not as if I wanted to drag her to my den and raise a litter of pups with her. One date, and that’s it.

* * *

Shelby’s senses were working overtime as she got out of the car and crossed the street. Nyla’s neighborhood in Brooklyn smelled better than a steakhouse. Someone was frying lamb meat. Shelby’s mouth watered.

She followed her nose to the driveway of a small house that looked as if it had seen better days. The once probably yellow color had weathered to a grayish beige, and the gutters had gotten rusty. Well-groomed flower beds lined the path, though, and a comfortable-looking bench invited visitors to sit on the small porch.

Shelby craned her neck to check the street number, which was half covered by ivy. Number twenty-one. The heavenly scents were definitely coming from Nyla’s house.

Had Nyla made dinner even though they wanted to go out? Or did she live with someone? The thought made her frown.

She paused in front of the door and breathed in through her nose. In addition to the enchanting scents of lamb, coriander, garlic, and mint, she caught a whiff of jasmine. Her heart beat faster.

Then her nose identified another smell. Dog hair.

Oh, no. Please let that be the neighbor’s dog.

Before she finished the thought, a dog started barking inside the house. It barked and growled as if a dangerous predator had entered its territory.

Strictly speaking, that was exactly what had happened. The dog couldn’t know that Shelby was a harmless member of her species.

Before Shelby could work up the courage to ring the bell, the door was opened.

Nyla stood in the doorframe, a barking black-and-brown rat in her arms.

Shelby blinked and stared. Wow.

So far, she had seen Nyla only at work, where she wore her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Now her hair was down and fell in wild waves onto her back. A hint of eyeliner emphasized her eyes and made them look even bigger and darker. The shapeless hospital scrubs Nyla usually wore to work definitely didn’t do Nyla’s sensuous build justice. The jeans and tight sweater she wore now showed off every curve.

It took some effort not to slobber—and this time it had nothing to do with the scent of the lamb meat.

The dog’s barking ripped Shelby from her thoughts.

Nyla stood without moving and stared back.

“Uh, here.” She handed Nyla a bouquet of red roses. In all the books about human mating behavior that she had read, the date always brought flowers, never meat, as it was custom with the Wrasa. Shelby didn’t understand what was so romantic about slowly wilting flowers, but for Nyla’s sake, she had adapted to human traditions.

The dog tried to bite Shelby’s hand.

Only Shelby’s fast Wrasa reactions saved her from being bitten.

The overgrown rat growled.

Shelby nearly bared her teeth and growled back.

“Goliath!” Nyla gave the dog an admonishing tap on the nose. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with him today. He’s usually the friendliest dog on earth.”

Shelby grinned. “Must be the effects of the full moon.”

The appearance of Nyla’s dimples when she smiled made Shelby’s knees weaken. “Would you like to come in while I bring Goliath upstairs and put the flowers in water?”

“I’d love to.” Truth be told, she had offered to pick Nyla up because she was curious about her den ... her house.

Goliath’s growling filled the silence between them as Nyla led her into the house.

“Goliath, stop it!” Nyla said.

The rat shut up but continued to stare at Shelby.

They walked past furniture, oil paintings, and a fireplace, but Shelby ignored the visual impressions and focused on the scents surrounding her. They told their own stories.

On a bookshelf, a bottle filled with sand smelled of salt water and ocean breeze. The smell of old paper wafted up from a chest of drawers, as if it held letters and photo albums. The scents of half a dozen herbs clung to the cozy breakfast nook. Everything was permeated by the warm scent of jasmine.

Nyla’s house smelled like a home. A sudden longing for her mother’s kitchen filled Shelby, but she shoved back that feeling. It had been a long time since she had felt at home in her parents’ house—if it had ever really been a true home for her.

While Shelby waited in the living room, Nyla brought the yapping rat upstairs and then went to the room where all the enticing scents were coming from.

“Red roses?” asked a female voice. Thanks to her Wrasa hearing, Shelby could hear her through the closed door. “I thought this was your first date?”

“It is,” Nyla said.

Uh-oh. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken advice about human courtship from romance novels. She had forgotten that the color of roses held a meaning to humans. She sighed. Bringing roast to a date was definitely less complicated.

“Be careful, dear, or you’ll end up like me. Your grandfather proposed even before we finished our first date.”

A sound indicated that Nyla kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “And you said yes.”

“Of course I did. I couldn’t pass up a tasty morsel like your grandfather.”

Shelby started coughing as she tried to suppress her laughter.

“Will you introduce me to your date?” Nyla’s grandmother asked.

“And get a remake of ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding’ that ends with you shoving food down her throat until she pukes?” Nyla snorted. “No, thanks.”

“Nonsense,” the old lady said. “It’s not my fault if you bring home anorexic young things with sensitive stomachs. Come on. Introduce us.”

That answered one of Shelby’s questions. Nyla was out to her family, and they accepted her sexual orientation. Shelby knew that wasn’t a given with humans.

The kitchen door opened.

Shelby straightened, expecting to face a silver-haired Greek matriarch in a head scarf and a black dress. Instead, Nyla’s grandmother wiped her hands on her jeans and tugged on her pink T-shirt before she shook Shelby’s hand. “You must be Shelby. Nice to meet you. I’m Katerina Rozakis, Nyla’s grandmother.”

Behind her grandmother’s back, Nyla pointed at the door and mouthed, “Let’s go.”

But her grandmother had already taken Shelby’s arm and was pulling her toward the couch.

Shelby sent Nyla a helpless glance over her shoulder.

“Tell me a little about yourself,” Mrs. Rozakis said. “You’re a doctor, right?”

“She’s a doctor who will be late for the movie if we don’t get going,” Nyla said. She bent and kissed her grandmother’s forehead. Then she pulled Shelby up from the couch and dragged her to the door.

Shelby’s fingers tingled where Nyla touched her. She waved in Mrs. Rozakis’s direction before the door closed behind them.

“Oh my God.” Nyla covered her eyes with her free hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Gently, Shelby pulled Nyla’s hand from her face and looked into her eyes. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“Believe me, if we stayed for two more minutes, you’d change your mind. My grandmother would have force-fed you while she questioned you about your finances, potential STDs, and your intentions toward me.”

Shelby chuckled. A Greek grandmother didn’t scare her. Whenever she had gone out with a Wrasa woman, she had been sniffed out by the woman’s whole pack. And they hadn’t offered her food. “No problem,” Shelby said. “I have nothing to hide.” At least not when it came to her finances, STDs, and her intentions toward Nyla. She sighed.

“You okay?” Nyla asked.

“Oh, sure. I’m great.” She led Nyla to her Toyota and opened the passenger door for her. “So your grandmother lives with you?” Shelby asked after she got in on the driver’s side.

Nyla nodded. “When my grandfather died three years ago, she fell into a depression. Cooking and keeping house for me gave her a new purpose.”

Why hadn’t Nyla’s parents taken in her grandmother? Shelby didn’t want to appear too nosy, so she didn’t ask. She started the car and weaved through the slow-moving traffic. “Which movie do you want to see?”

“How about ‘Just One Day’? Have you heard of it?”

Shelby shook her head. Like many Wrasa, she considered movies and television a strange invention whose attraction she had never fully understood.

“It’s about the daughter of a millionaire. She falls in love with her father’s chauffeur, but of course her parents don’t want her to get involved with a guy who doesn’t have a cent to his name.”

Of course. It’s always the same. Parents had very specific expectations of the person their children should or shouldn’t end up with. That was one thing that Wrasa and humans had in common. Shelby sighed again.

Hesitantly, Nyla laid her hand on Shelby’s knee. “Are you really okay?”

The hand on her knee made Shelby flinch. Her knee hit the steering wheel.

Nyla withdrew her hand.

Shelby bit her lip. Get yourself together. You just get this one date with her, so enjoy it while it lasts. She wanted to reach for Nyla’s hand and put it back on her knee, but she didn’t dare. “Really, everything’s great. I’m just ...” She combed a strand of hair behind her ear and peeked over at Nyla, who tilted her head and listened. “... well, a little ... out of practice. This is my first date in five years.”

“Wow. Five years?”

“Almost six.”

For a few moments, Nyla said nothing. Then she shook her head. “But ... but why didn’t you date for so long? I mean ... you’ve got a great sense of humor, you’re good-looking and more down-to-earth than any other doctor I know.”

Shelby laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

When they stopped at a red light, Shelby looked over at Nyla.

Their gazes met. Nyla’s dark eyes revealed her feelings more clearly than Shelby was used to from Wrasa women. Did Nyla already feel more for her than affection between colleagues?

The drivers behind them started a chorus of horns.

“Yeah, yeah. Chill out.” Shaking her head, Shelby drove through the intersection. It was a mystery to her how other Wrasa managed not to freak out and shift in the crazy New York traffic.

“So why haven’t you dated in over five years?” Nyla asked. With a fleeting touch to Shelby’s knee, she added, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Shelby couldn’t tell her the whole truth, but she didn’t want to answer Nyla’s sincere question with silence. “It’s okay. I guess I just gave up looking for the perfect woman or starting relationships that were doomed from the beginning.” Then what are you doing going out on a date with a human? Shelby shoved the thought away. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Today belonged to Nyla and her.

“I know what you mean,” Nyla said. “My ex-girlfriend was a vegetarian who hated dogs and couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just leave behind my family to move to France with her.”

But at least the dog hater and Nyla had belonged to the same species. Shelby suppressed another sigh and focused on finding a parking space within a few blocks of the movie theater.

* * *

“Oooh, popcorn!” Nyla jumped up and down like a little girl. “Do you want some?”

Unlike lamb meat, buttery pieces of corn weren’t on Shelby’s list of favorite dishes, but she had to laugh at Nyla’s childlike enthusiasm. “No, thanks. Why don’t you get the popcorn while I go to ...” At the last second, she stopped herself from saying “to the little coyotes’ room.” “To the little psychiatrists’ room,” she said hurriedly and waved in the direction of the restrooms. At least in the ladies’ room, she could keep away from the crowd in the theater lobby.

“Okay.” Nyla walked away with a smile.

Shelby watched her until she disappeared in the crowd in front of the concession stand. She turned and shook herself. Now that Nyla’s presence no longer distracted her, she realized how uncomfortable it was for her to be stuck among so many humans. The stink of burned butter, sweat, and spilled soda hung in the air. At least she wouldn’t run into other Wrasa here. No Wrasa would go to the movies on his or her own free will.

No Wrasa?

Her nose said something else. The scent of pines, mandarins, cream, and fresh air drifted over ... and the cold sweat of a Wrasa fighting against the urge to shift.

She knew those smells. Isn’t that ...? Shelby turned.

On the other side of the hall, in a quiet corner, stood her neighbors, an elderly couple of fox-shifters. Lennard’s nostrils flared as if he was struggling not to breathe through his nose. He repeatedly scratched first his left forearm, then the right one. His gaze darted back and forth and finally zeroed in on the emergency exit. When a human searching for a movie guide came too close, Lennard whirled around and growled.

Great Hunter, why is he doing this to himself?

“Oh, Shelby, hi!” Clara, Lennard’s wife, waved excitedly. “Lennard, look who’s here!” She patted his arm and turned toward Shelby. “Are you here to see the movie? It’s supposed to be very romantic. Right, Lennard?”

Lennard nodded with a pained, but lenient smile.

After avoiding two human teenagers who nearly crashed into her, Shelby joined her neighbors in the corner. As always when she met the couple, she had to smile about their mate scent. Clara’s scent of cream mixed with Lennard’s mandarin and created something that smelled of cheesecake. Even as a pup, Shelby had been fascinated by the body chemistry of the Wrasa that joined two people’s individual scents into a more complex mate scent when they started a lifelong relationship.

“I didn’t know you also like movies,” Clara said.

“Um, I ...” As inconspicuously as possible, Shelby peeked over her shoulder. She hoped Nyla wouldn’t be back before Clara and Lennard had left. If her neighbors saw her with a human, they would ask questions that Shelby couldn’t answer. “No, I don’t really like movies, I just ...”

Before she could come up with an excuse, Nyla appeared next to her. “Ah, there you are. I also got us some nachos. I didn’t know what you … Oh, hi.” Only now did she seem to realize that Shelby wasn’t alone and two strangers were staring at her. She sent Shelby a questioning gaze.

Sweat trickled down Shelby’s forehead. Her forearms tingled. If things continued like this, she would soon join Lennard in fighting the urge to shift. “Um, this is Lennard and Clara, my neighbors. And this is Nyla, a colleague of mine.” She emphasized the “colleague,” hoping to make her neighbors think that Nyla was nothing more than an acquaintance.

Nyla’s normally warm, sensuous scent changed abruptly.

For a moment, the image of a jasmine shrub shaking in the wind appeared before Shelby’s mental eye. She bit her lip. Her remark had hurt Nyla. She promised herself she would make up for it during the rest of the evening. As soon as Lennard and Clara were out of sight.

Clara’s smile disappeared, and Lennard fixed Nyla with a narrow-eyed stare.

“Hi.” Apparently, Nyla had gotten over her hurt feelings. She beamed at the couple as if she had been introduced to the president and the first lady. “Are you also going to see ‘Just One Day’?”

Clara nodded but didn’t seem eager to start a conversation with a human.

“I hear the movie runs over two hours,” Nyla said.

“Two hours?” Lennard’s eyes widened. He ducked his head, looking like a fox that had been snared by a hunter’s trap and knew there was no escape. “I better go and get us some snacks, then.”

“There’s no time,” Clara said and patted his arm. “They’ll open the doors in a minute.”

Lennard’s shoulders drooped.

“Why don’t you take the nachos?” Nyla offered him the plastic tray.

Clara and Lennard stared at her. “No,” Clara said. “You got them for yourself.”

“It seems I bit off more than I can chew. Shelby and I won’t be able to eat all of this.” Nyla held out the nacho tray again.

“Hey, if he doesn’t want the damn nachos, I’ll take them,” a teenager shouted.

Growling, Lennard wrenched the nachos out of Nyla’s hand. “Thanks. How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing.” Nyla grinned, undeterred by his bad manners. “Just don’t call for a nurse if the nachos give you heartburn.”

Wrasa didn’t get heartburn, but Nyla couldn’t know that.

Lennard shoved the first nacho into his mouth and already looked a bit less grumpy. “Don’t worry. We won’t.”

Before the doors to the movie theater opened, Nyla had pulled Clara into a conversation about the best movies of all times. Lennard had stopped observing Nyla as if she were his mortal enemy and directed his attention toward the nachos.

Shelby watched Nyla with a smile. In the hospital, she had often seen Nyla chatting up a scared patient. She had a talent for making them forget about their sterile surroundings within a few seconds. It seemed Nyla’s charm had a similar effect on Wrasa. Oh, yes. Just look at yourself.

Too bad that their noses would constantly remind Wrasa that Nyla was human and not someone they would ever trust.

The heavy doors opened.

A pack of teenagers shoved past them to get into the movie theater.

“Let’s go in,” Nyla said.

Shelby was in no hurry to enter the stuffy room, but she followed Nyla without hesitation.

As they climbed the stairs, Nyla stumbled.

Shelby hurried to catch up with her and reached for her hand to guide her safely to her seat. Then she realized that Lennard and Clara could see them. Quickly, she let go of Nyla’s hand.

“It’s okay,” Nyla said and reached for her hand.

Shelby closed her trembling fingers more tightly around Nyla’s. Her neck itched as if she could sense Lennard’s and Clara’s gazes on her. She dropped into a seat next to Nyla and slid down a little so that her neighbors, who sat behind them, couldn’t see her so well. Only now did she realize that Nyla had chosen seats for couples. Their seats weren’t separated by armrests. She grimaced. Shelby Carson, this date really wasn’t the most brilliant idea you ever had.

Under the pretense of scratching her shoulder, she turned her head and peeked at the row behind them.

Lennard’s fox eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness while Clara’s eyes were hidden behind special glasses that allowed Wrasa to watch movies produced for human eyesight.

Quickly, she turned back around.

Nyla leaned toward her. “You okay?”

Shelby nodded.

“Are you uncomfortable with this?” Nyla indicated their seats.

What should she answer? If she said yes, Nyla would think Shelby didn’t want her close. But if she said no, Nyla might cuddle up to her during the romantic scenes and she would no longer be able to make Lennard and Clara believe that Nyla was just an acquaintance. “Um, well ...”

Nyla moved back and put some space between them. “You’re not out, are you?”

“Yes, I am. It’s just ...”

“Sssh,” someone hissed.

Oh, come on. They were just showing commercials right now. Humans. They don’t really want to see commercials, do they? She turned back toward Nyla. “I’m as out as anyone can be,” she whispered. “But it’s complicated.”

Two humans turned toward her. “Sssh!”

Shelby looked at Nyla and rolled her eyes.

Nyla answered with a smile that seemed a little sad and didn’t dimple her cheeks. Almost inaudibly, she whispered, “Later.”

Glad that her attempts to explain had been postponed, Shelby glanced at the movie screen.

After a few more commercials, they showed a movie trailer and then the opening credits started to roll. The bright, constantly changing lights hurt Shelby’s eyes, and she couldn’t perceive colors the same way humans did. But Shelby didn’t mind. She wasn’t here to see the movie anyway. Instead, she leaned back and watched Nyla.

If the giant cup had been filled with meat instead of popcorn, a Wrasa would have emptied it within a minute. But Nyla took her time. During every interesting verbal exchange on the screen, her hand lingered over the cup. Only when the next scene started did she reach for a handful of the sticky treat and eat it slowly, one kernel after the other.

Nyla seemed to sense Shelby’s gaze on her. She turned her head and gave Shelby a questioning gaze.

Shelby smiled at her.

Nyla’s teeth glowed in the dark as she returned the smile and held out the popcorn cup.

Shelby’s ears started to burn. To accept food from Nyla’s plate—or popcorn from her cup—practically meant getting engaged for a Wrasa. Of course Nyla couldn’t know that. She was just offering popcorn, not her eternal love. Lennard was still watching them with his sharp fox eyes, so Shelby shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not a big fan of popcorn.”

Half an hour later, Nyla set the empty cup on the floor and licked a bit of butter from her index finger.

Reflexively, Shelby licked her lips. Then she wrenched her gaze away from Nyla’s hands and watched the hazy figures on the big screen.

Dramatic music, much too loud for Shelby’s ears, boomed through the loudspeakers as a misunderstanding seemingly separated the two lovers forever and the movie’s heroine was about to marry another man.

“No, no, no, don’t do that, you fool,” Nyla whispered. “Have some trust in your relationship.”

Shelby turned her head and looked at her.

As if spellbound, Nyla stared at the movie screen.

Would Nyla still think like that and try to trust her if she told her who and what she really was?

Instantly, Shelby called herself to order. Are you out of your mind? How can you even consider breaking the First Law by revealing our existence? Pull yourself together!

Even though the chauffeur and the millionaire’s daughter finally ended up together, going to the movies was a depressing experience for Shelby. The evening had made one thing clear: for her and Nyla, there would be no happy ending.

When the final credits started, Shelby jumped up from her seat and tugged Nyla along by the hand. If they hurried, they would make it out of the movie theater before Lennard and Clara caught up with them.

“What’s the rush?” Nyla asked with a startled laugh as Shelby rushed down the stairs.

“Um, no, I just want to get rid of the trash before we leave.” Shelby held up the empty popcorn cup. When they reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder and suppressed a triumphant smile.

Lennard had to remain in his seat because Clara apparently wanted to watch the closing credits.

Shelby steered them toward the nearest exit.

“Can you hold this for a minute?” Nyla handed over her purse. “I have to go to the ladies’ room before we head back. I won’t be long.”

With the purse in her hands, Shelby stood and stared at Nyla’s retreating back. Oh, shit. Now she had lost her head start and might run into Clara and Lennard again. She tried to hide behind a column with movie posters. Hurry up, Nyla.

The scent of cheesecake drifted over.

She hunched her shoulders and turned.

Lennard and Clara were standing in front of her. “You are such a nice girl,” Clara said with a disapproving frown. “I really don’t understand why you associate with humans.”

Shelby started to sweat. A lump formed in her throat, and she nearly couldn’t get out her answer. “I don’t. Nyla is just ...”

The grim expression on Lennard’s face made her shut up. “Have you lived among humans for so long that you’ve forgotten we Wrasa can smell a lie?”

Shelby snapped her mouth shut. She threw a glance over her shoulder, hoping Nyla would take her time. “Please don’t call the Saru.” She reached for Clara’s hand. “Please. I haven’t told Nyla what I really am. She thinks I’m just a nice colleague.”

Lennard fixed his watchful fox gaze on her. “A colleague with whom she shared her popcorn and held hands with?”

Cold sweat broke out all over Shelby’s body. What could she say to that?

Clara squeezed her hand. “In movies, I find forbidden love so romantic, but in true life ... You are a promising young woman. Don’t destroy your life by getting involved with a human.”

“Nyla and I ... we’re not together,” Shelby stammered. It was the only thing she could say without lying.

“Then make sure it stays that way,” Lennard said.

The door to the ladies’ room opened and Nyla joined them. “Hi again. How did you like the movie? The ending was great, wasn’t it?”

For a few moments, Clara and Lennard kept their gazes fixed on Shelby. Then they turned toward Nyla.

“Bah, Hollywood kitsch,” Lennard mumbled. “Some couples are not meant to get together. They’ve got to accept that.” He looked directly into Shelby’s eyes.

Shelby gnashed her teeth but nodded obediently. She had no choice. Dejected, she left the movie theater and led Nyla back to the car.

* * *

“Here we are,” Shelby said as she stopped the car in Nyla’s driveway and turned off the engine.

“Yes.”

They looked at each other and then stared through windshield into the darkness beyond.

“The movie was really good,” Nyla said.

“Yes, it was.” Since she hadn’t paid attention to the movie, Shelby didn’t know what else to say. One problem solved. Nyla won’t ask for a second date. That’s for sure. You bored her to death, acted really squirrely all night, and made her think you’re deeply closeted.

Nyla unbuckled her seatbelt. The metallic click sounded much too loud in the silence between them. She glanced at Shelby, then at the passenger door.

In a second, she would leave. Everything in Shelby demanded she find a way to make Nyla stay, even though she knew there was no hope for them.

Nyla leaned to the side and opened the door.

“Wait!” Shelby nearly got tangled up in the seatbelt as she unfastened it. “I mean ... wait a minute. I’ll walk you to the door.” She finally managed to free herself of the seatbelt and hastened around the car. When she stood in front of Nyla, she didn’t know what to do. She stuffed her hands into her pants pockets and shuffled her feet while she studied the gravel in Nyla’s driveway.

Nyla closed the passenger door.

The loud sound made Shelby flinch. She followed Nyla to the house without saying anything.

Key in hand, Nyla paused in front of the door. The metal jingled as she spun the key between her fingers. “It was a really nice evening,” Nyla said.

Shelby stared at her in disbelief. She didn’t need to use her nose to know that Nyla was lying or at least not telling the whole truth. It hadn’t been the fun, relaxed evening she had hoped for.

“Okay,” Nyla said as Shelby continued to stare at her, “we had a few awkward moments. But I like you, Shelby. There’s no reason for you to be so nervous.”

What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn’t tell Nyla what had made her act like a criminal on the run all night.

“Maybe we can repeat it some time,” Nyla said. “This time without the nervousness.”

Shelby nodded, even knowing it was not a good idea. Something burned behind her breastbone. Did Wrasa suffer from heartburn after all?

“Good night, then,” Nyla said but made no move to unlock her front door.

“Good night.” Shelby didn’t move either. She stared at Nyla’s sensuous lips. Should she kiss Nyla? For the first and only time. Or would it just make things worse? Did Nyla even want to be kissed?

Her scent seemed to indicate that she was interested, but Shelby didn’t trust her senses. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Just do it. For once in her life, she would do something just because she wanted it instead of desperately fighting for the respect of her pack and her fellow Wrasa and never really getting it. She took a tiny step forward.

Did Nyla lean toward her?

Shelby wasn’t sure. She took another step.

Goliath started barking inside the house.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Mrs. Rozakis called.

The light on the porch flared.

Blinded, Shelby pulled back.

Nyla searched for the right key and pushed it into the keyhole. “We’ll see each other Monday, right?”

Shelby suppressed a sigh. “Sure. See you Monday.” When they would just be colleagues, nothing more. “I think we both have the early shift.” She fished her car key out of her pants pocket.

Nyla still hadn’t unlocked the door. She looked at Shelby. “See you Monday. And please drive carefully.”

“I will.” After a few more seconds of hesitation, Shelby gave herself a mental shove, turned, and walked toward her car.

After opening the car door, she turned once more.

Nyla stood in the doorway and lifted one hand to wave.

Shelby forced a smile and returned the gesture. She dropped into the driver’s seat. When she looked through the windshield, Nyla was gone. The door was closed and the light on the porch had been turned off. Only a tiny ray of light fell through the crack beneath the door.

Reproachfully, Shelby stared up at the waning moon. She wanted to lift her head and howl until every coyote in the neighborhood joined her lament. Instead she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

A knock on the window next to her made her jump. Her head smashed against the steering wheel. “Ouch.” Rubbing her forehead, she looked up.

Nyla stood next to the car. Her face was pale in the moonlight and looked almost too beautiful to be real.

For a moment, Shelby thought she was dreaming. Then she hurriedly got out of the car. “Did you forget something?” She glanced at the passenger seat, searching for Nyla’s purse or another object Nyla might have left behind.

“No.” Nyla combed through her locks with both hands. “Yes. Shelby, I ...” She stopped and leaned toward Shelby.

Shelby’s breath caught. Had Nyla come back to ...?

Her soft lips brushed Shelby’s, then backed away.

More, more! Shelby wrapped both arms around Nyla and pulled her closer to kiss her again. The touch of Nyla’s lips made her whole body tingle in a way that she normally only experienced in the seconds before a transformation. Her nostrils quivered as she greedily sucked in Nyla’s scent. She kissed Nyla’s full lower lip, breathed kisses along the heart-shaped line of her upper lip, and nibbled gently on the corner of her mouth.

Warm breath washed over Shelby’s lips, and then Nyla’s tongue teased her mouth.

With one hand on Nyla’s neck, Shelby pulled her closer and opened her mouth.

Yapping sounds made them jerk back.

“Goliath, be quiet!” Nyla wagged her index finger at the dog.

It took a few moments before Shelby’s vision cleared. Everything around her felt strange and surreal. Everything but Nyla’s taste on her lips. Growling almost inaudibly, she stared down at the dog.

Goliath bared his teeth as if he wanted to rip Shelby’s throat out.

Shelby fixed him with a warning glare. You better watch out, rat. If I manage to shift into a coyote for a change, I’ll eat a little thing like you as an appetizer.

Nyla picked up the dog. From his elevated position in her arms, he continued barking at Shelby.

“Goliath, sssh.” Nyla lifted the tiny dog until she could look into his eyes. “What’s wrong with you? Shelby isn’t hurting me. We just …” In the moonlight, her face turned a bright pink color.

Despite her growling rival, Shelby had to smile. We just kissed.

Nyla finally ignored the dog and glanced at Shelby.

They stared at each other without saying a word.

Every single cell in Shelby’s body screamed at her to pull Nyla into her arms again, to breathe in her jasmine scent, and—

“Nyla?” Mrs. Rozakis called from the porch. “What are you doing out there?”

Nyla groaned. “As if one chaperone weren’t enough,” she murmured. Then she called toward the house: “I’m saying good night to Shelby.”

With her sensitive Wrasa hearing, Shelby heard Mrs. Rozakis mumble, “That’s what they call it nowadays.”

“So,” Nyla said and looked into Shelby’s eyes. “Good night, then.” She caressed Shelby’s hand with two of her fingers.

Only now did Shelby realize that she was clutching the frame of the open car door. She let go and touched Nyla’s fingertips with her own. “Good night.”

Nyla hesitated, then leaned forward and brushed her lips against Shelby’s in a quick kiss. Before Shelby could return the kiss, Nyla turned and walked away.

Shelby watched her until she reached the house. Long after the door had closed behind Nyla and the lights in the house had gone out, she stood in Nyla’s driveway and traced her lips with trembling fingers. What in the Great Hunter’s name am I supposed to do now?

Chapter 3

“Doc? Hey, Doctor Carson!” One of the nurses waved a sheet of paper in front of Shelby’s nose.

“Hmm?” Shelby wrenched her gaze away from the triage desk.

“Here are the lab results you were waiting for.”

It took some effort for Shelby to focus on the lab results. “Hmm. The patient is totally clean. Not one hint of drugs. Who would’ve thought?”

“Well, some people don’t need drugs to have their heads in the clouds.” The nurse winked at her and walked away.

Shelby narrowed her eyes. What is he saying? Had he noticed that Shelby had some trouble focusing on work today? During the whole weekend, she hadn’t been able to think of anything but Nyla. Nyla and the kiss they’d shared in the driveway. But sometimes the endless loop of pleasant memories got interrupted by doubts and pangs of conscience. Getting involved with a human was crazy. She was tempting fate and calling down the Saru, the council’s soldiers, on her and Nyla.

But then she remembered the soft touch of their fingertips as they said good night. Never had a simple touch like that made her feel so much. Was she really prepared to live without that?

She sighed and tried to focus on the chart before her. But that wasn’t so easy when Nyla’s lovely jasmine scent seemed to be everywhere.

“Hi, Doctor Carson,” Nyla said directly next to her.

Doctor Carson. Shelby nearly melted into a puddle. How did Nyla manage to make her title sound like a pet name? She shook herself. Pull yourself together and stop acting like a love-sick coyote. You’ve got work to do.

“Is that Mr. Lessing’s lab results?” Nyla asked and leaned against the desk next to Shelby.

Shelby tried to keep breathing normally. She was talking to Nyla Rozakis, a nurse, not to Nyla, the woman she had kissed on Saturday. “Yes. I didn’t expect it, but he’s clean.”

“Hmm.” Nyla tapped a pen against her lower lip while she studied the lab report.

The gesture made Shelby’s heartbeat speed up.

“Weird,” Nyla said. “I could have sworn he’s high like a kite.”

“Me too. But the standard tox screen doesn’t check for every drug. I’ll order more tests, just to make sure we’re not missing something.” Proud that she had gotten back some control and behaved like a professional, Shelby scribbled down instructions for the lab and handed Nyla the piece of paper. “Would you take this to the lab for me?”

“Sure, but ...” Nyla stared at the note. “Isn’t the patient’s name Lessing?”

“Yes. L-e-s-s-i-n-g.”

“Um, but you wrote kissing.”

“What?” That couldn’t be true. Shelby jumped up and reached for the note.

Nyla was right. Next to “patient’s name,” she had written in big blue letters: kissing. She wanted to dig a hole and hide there forever.

Nyla laughed and gently touched her elbow. “Good to know that I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking of Saturday,” she whispered.

For a moment, Shelby wanted to protest and say that only her typical doctor scrawl made “Lessing” look like “kissing,” but then she shook her head. Why should she lie to Nyla? At least in this one thing she could be honest. “Good thing I’m not pulling a double shift. I’m not thinking straight right now.”

Still leaning against the desk, Nyla hesitated. Then she leaned forward so that her enchanting scent surrounded Shelby. “Do you want to come over to my place after work?” she asked in a low voice. “My grandmother is making souvlaki. Knowing her, she’s making enough for a pack of hungry wolves.”

The last sentence made Shelby flinch. She wasn’t a wolf shifter, but if Nyla knew whom she was inviting for dinner ...

“You don’t have to come if you have other plans. I just thought ...” Nyla trailed off and stared at the desk’s corner.

“Of course I’ll come over,” Shelby said before she became aware of her lips moving. Not one second later, she regretted her spontaneous words. Did you catch rabies? You said one date. Not two. You’re only getting Nyla’s hopes up if you don’t end it now. She opened her mouth to do exactly that, but she just couldn’t get her mouth to form the words.

“Great,” Nyla said with a smile that seemed to light up the whole psych ER. “How about six?”

Shelby could only nod.

Nyla fleetingly touched her shoulder. “See you later. I’m heading to the lab to order the tests for Mr. Kissing.” She winked at Shelby and walked away.

For a second, Shelby stared at her retreating back. Then she put her head in her hands and groaned into her palms.

“You all right?” someone asked behind her. “Can I help you somehow? Some Aspirin?”

Shelby turned. The colleague who would take over for her in an hour stood in front of her. “A blow to the head might be more helpful,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. But since you are here already, could you take over early today?” Shelby asked. “I have some errands to run.” If she went on a second date with Nyla, at least she wanted to show up prepared.

* * *

At exactly six o’clock, Shelby drove down Nyla’s street, parked a few houses away, and got out of the car.

A man whose scent identified him as a tiger-shifter crossed the street. He glanced at Shelby with an appraising look as if he knew that she was far from her own den and didn’t have any business being here.

Shelby hunched her shoulders and hurried down the street. She pretended to head toward the butcher at the end of the street. In front of the store, she paused and looked around.

The tiger shifter had disappeared into one of the buildings.

After one more glance to make sure that no other Wrasa was watching her, she walked toward Nyla’s house.

Nyla’s old Ford wasn’t in the driveway.

Shelby climbed the two steps to the porch and breathed in through her nose. The scent of Mrs. Rozakis’s souvlaki made her mouth water. The house smelled of meat, garlic, and lemon. Nyla’s jasmine scent surrounded the house, but it was fading, as if she hadn’t been home since leaving for work in the morning.

Weird. Shelby fished her cell phone out of her pocket. Then she remembered that she didn’t have Nyla’s number. Instead she called the psych ER.

An out of breath Nyla answered.

“Hi, Nyla. It’s Shelby. Seems you’re still at work.”

Nyla groaned. “Yes, I am. We had three new admissions just as I was about to leave, and one of them snapped and punched out Barbara. I probably won’t get out of here anytime soon. Where are you?”

“On your porch.”

“Oh, Shelby, I’m so sorry.”

Shelby imagined Nyla leaning against the triage desk with a guilty frown on her face. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, only the background noises of the ER filtered through the phone line. A patient was screaming and cursing. Paper rustled. Somewhere, a phone rang.

Finally, Nyla asked, “Do you want to postpone dinner, or do you want to go on in and wait for me with my grandmother?”

Shelby hesitated. Hanging out on Nyla’s porch was a risk. She had to make a decision. Now. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe dating a human wasn’t meant to be. “You know, I really think I should—”

Steps approached the front door.

Before Shelby could flee, the door opened. Aggressive yapping greeted her. “Oh, hello,” Mrs. Rozakis said. She held Goliath’s leash in one hand while her other hand ran through her dyed black hair as if Shelby was her admirer and not Nyla’s.

“Is that my grandmother?” Shelby asked through the cell phone that Shelby still held to her ear.

“Um, yes.”

“Let me talk to her, please.”

Shelby held out the phone to the old lady. “Um, hi. Your granddaughter wants to talk to you.”

Mrs. Rozakis handed her the leash and took the cell phone.

Baffled, Shelby stared down at the growling dog. Then she lifted her head and listened attentively. Even in her human form, her hearing was good enough that she could hear every word Nyla said.

“Hi, Yiayia. I’ll be home late. All hell is breaking loose here,” Nyla said. “Can you ask Shelby to come in and let her wait for me inside? I’m coming home as soon as I can.”

“Of course.” With her free hand, Mrs. Rozakis patted Shelby’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We will find something do to until you come home.”

Butterflies took flight in the pit of Shelby’s stomach, and they weren’t the pleasant kind. Maybe a Greek grandmother wasn’t any more harmless than the pack of a female Wrasa.

“No interrogating her about her income, sexual preferences, or genetic disorders in her family, okay?” Nyla said, obviously thinking Shelby couldn’t hear her.

Mrs. Rozakis gave Shelby a smile that was as sweet as sugar.

It was beginning to look like the toothy grin of a wolf to Shelby.

“I love you too,” Mrs. Rozakis said to Nyla. “See you later.” Before Nyla could say anything else, she ended the call and handed back the cell phone. She held open the front door and made a gesture of invitation.

“Oh ... um ... I think you were about to walk Goliath. I can do that for you if you want.” Even walking the yapping rat seemed like a relaxing activity compared to the interrogation Mrs. Rozakis would start as soon as they were inside.

“That would be so lovely of you. If you don’t mind, I could put the finishing touches to my souvlaki.”

“You do that. No problem. I’m great with dogs,” Shelby said, ignoring Goliath’s growling.

Mrs. Rozakis bent down and patted Goliath’s head. “Did you hear that? The nice young lady will walk you.”

Goliath whimpered and tugged on the leash, trying to flee through the open door and into the house.

“Cute. The little one’s so shy,” Shelby said.

“Shy? Goliath?” Mrs. Rozakis laughed. “He’s about as shy as my Giorgos, God have mercy on his soul, after half a dozen ouzos.”

Like every Wrasa, Shelby had no personal knowledge whatsoever about the effects of ouzo or any other alcohol, so she just nodded. “Okay. We’ll go for our walk, then.”

“Just ring the bell when you return.” Mrs. Rozakis stepped inside the house and closed the door behind her.

Goliath’s claws scratched over the porch. He howled like a coyote whose pack had left him behind.

“Don’t panic. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Shelby said in her most soothing tone.

Goliath didn’t seem convinced. He pulled on the leash as if his life depended on it.

A neighbor who was wheeling the trash can toward the curb looked over at them.

Shelby gave her a friendly smile. Okay, time to get out my secret weapon before the neighbors start thinking I’m torturing animals. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out one of the dog biscuits she had bought in the pet store. The salesclerk had promised that no dog would be able to resist the treat, and indeed, on the way over, Shelby’s coyote half had been tempted to try one of the biscuits. Only to make sure that they were as tasty as promised, of course.

She bent and invitingly held out the biscuit.

Goliath bared his tiny, but needle-sharp teeth. He leaped forward and snapped at Shelby.

Shelby wrenched back her hand. “Hey, what are you doing? Look how tasty this is. Yum-yum.” She pretended to take a bite of the biscuit and chew contentedly. Licking her lips, she held out the biscuit again.

The dumb dog didn’t even sniff. He continued to growl and bare his teeth.

Shelby regarded him with a shake of her head. What was she supposed to do now? Use the good, old coyote method? Somehow she doubted that Nyla and her grandmother would like it if she growled at the Chihuahua, threw him on his back, and stared him down until he submitted.

If he would do that. Goliath seemed everything but submissive.

A deep growl came from beyond the hedge that separated Nyla’s house from the neighbor’s property.

Great. Now I’m being growled at by two dogs. Shelby’s nostrils flared as she tried to identify the smells in the neighborhood. The neighbor’s house and the trash can she had wheeled to the curb were covered by the scent marks of another dog. Judging by the smell and his growl, it was a large dog.

But Goliath appeared unimpressed. He answered the threatening growl with his irritating yapping.

“Goliath, sssh. Are you out of your mind? That one is out of your league.”

The growling on the other side of the hedge stopped.

Uh-oh. Shelby knew that the sudden silence didn’t bode well.

A large black dog of an unidentified breed bounded toward them. Or more specifically, toward Goliath. In five seconds, Goliath would be mincemeat.

Finally, Goliath stopped yapping. He whined and hid under the porch.

Shelby stepped between Goliath and the large dog.

The attacker slowed for a moment, then rushed on.

Shelby took a deep breath, lifted her upper lip, and let out the scariest growl she was capable of. Even though she had a hard time turning into a coyote, she smelled like a Wrasa and now she allowed the wild fierceness of her ancestors to surface instead of hiding it beneath her human exterior.

The dog stopped as if he had crashed into an invisible barrier. His fur stood on end and made him look even larger and more threatening.

Shelby countered by straightening to her full five feet six inches. She stared the dog down until he slowly lowered his confidently raised tail. She pulled back her upper lip and deepened her growl.

Finally, the dog tucked his tail between his legs and crawled away with his belly almost touching the ground.

Ha! Shelby scratched at the gravel in the driveway with her feet until she realized what she was doing and hastily stopped.

“Hello?” the neighbor called through the hedge. “Did you by any chance see my do—? Oh, Ringo, there you are!”

“You better put him on a leash,” Shelby called, “before he attacks my Goliath again.” My Goliath? She rubbed her ear and stared at the porch, where the Chihuahua was hiding. Since when is that overgrown rat my Goliath?

“Oh, no,” the neighbor replied. “Ringo wouldn’t harm a fly. He’s just playing.”

Shelby snorted. She knew the body language of a playful dog. Ringo had definitely planned on having Goliath for lunch. As the door closed behind the neighbor and her dog, Shelby knelt next to the porch. She ignored the gravel digging into her knees. Gently, she tugged on the leash. “Hey, little one. You can come out. The scary beast is gone.”

A small black nose appeared from beneath the porch and moved up and down as Goliath sniffed. Then a narrow muzzle and two gleaming eyes followed.

“The coast is clear,” Shelby said and patted her thigh to lure Goliath out from his hiding place. “Ringo beat a humiliating retreat.”

The stink of fear surrounding Goliath slowly dissipated. Inch by inch, he slid his little body out from under the porch. Then he heartily shook himself.

“You okay, little one?” Carefully, Shelby reached out, prepared to pull back her hand if Goliath tried to bite.

Goliath lifted his upper lip as if he was about to growl, but no sound rose up his chest. After a few seconds, the furrows in his muzzle disappeared. Hesitantly, he craned his neck and sniffed Shelby’s hand. His smooth tongue shot forward and licked Shelby’s palm, at first tentatively, then more enthusiastically, until Shelby had been covered in slobber from wrist to fingertips.

“Would you look at that?” Maybe she should hire Ringo in the future whenever she wanted to gain a dog’s favor. She scratched behind Goliath’s triangular ears. “Okay, let’s get going before Mrs. Rozakis thinks we got lost.” She took a step toward the street, and this time, Goliath followed her without her having to drag him behind her on his leash.

* * *

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for Nyla?” Shelby asked, peeking at the lamb skewers on her plate.

Mrs. Rozakis patted Shelby’s arm. “There’s still enough left over for Nyla. You go ahead and eat.”

Shelby didn’t have to be told twice. Even though she rarely shifted shape and therefore didn’t use up as much energy as other Wrasa, she still had the appetite of all Wrasa. She cut off a large piece of meat and put it into her mouth.

A symphony of tastes exploded on her tongue: olive oil, lemon, dill, and garlic. She hummed as she chewed the tender meat. “Mmm. Delicious.”

Mrs. Rozakis beamed. “I’m glad you like it.” She heaped more rice onto Shelby’s plate. Instead of eating, Mrs. Rozakis leaned back and watched as Shelby wolfed down her meat. “Why did you become a doctor?” she finally asked.

Shelby paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. There it was, the first of the interrogation questions. And Shelby couldn’t answer totally truthful. “My father, two of my aunts, and my grandmother are doctors,” she answered. That much was true.

“Ah, so it’s a family tradition.”

That was only half true. Even though many members of her pack had dedicated themselves to practicing medicine, all but Shelby had decided on Wrasa medicine. She put another bite of lamb into her mouth and mumbled an answer that was just as likely to be a confirmation as a denial.

“Are all the other doctors in your family psychiatrists too?” Mrs. Rozakis asked.

Shelby couldn’t tell her that psychiatry was a not very well-known, if not nonexistent, branch of Wrasa medicine. Wrasa didn’t suffer from mental disorders. At least that was the official story. Maybe it had really been true in the past. Shelby wasn’t sure, but she knew today it was a lie. She laughed even though she felt like crying. “Oh God, no. Can you imagine family get-togethers if almost every member of the family is a psychiatrist?”

Of course, Mrs. Rozakis couldn’t imagine Shelby’s family get-togethers at all. Instead of looking at photo albums over coffee and cake and talking about family members who hadn’t been able to make it to the meeting, Shelby’s pack came together to shift shape in a hidden clearing and to run through the forest in their coyote forms until morning dawned.

Mrs. Rozakis laughed. “Then why did you go into psychiatry?”

Shelby decided to tell the truth. She liked Nyla’s grandmother—and not just for her food. “When I was growing up, my grandfather was my hero.”

“Was he a doctor too?”

“No. He ... As long as I can remember, he never worked. He suffered from bipolar disorder. Severe depression alternating with manic episodes.” Not that he had ever been diagnosed with any mental disorder. Officially, her grandfather was just an oddball who kept apart from the rest of the pack and rarely shape-shifted. He was an outsider within the pack, just like Shelby. “I became a psychiatrist to help people like him.”

As far as she knew, she was the only Wrasa psychiatrist in North America.

“What became of your grandfather?” Mrs. Rozakis asked.

Shelby swallowed.

The sound of a key in the lock prevented her from having to answer.

Slow steps approached; then Nyla appeared in the doorway. The smell of stress and exhaustion covered her like an old, heavy coat.

For a moment, Shelby thought she smelled blood. Just the lamb skewers. She jumped up to help Nyla out of her jacket. She would have loved to massage Nyla’s tired shoulders, but with Mrs. Rozakis watching her every move, she didn’t dare. “How was it?”

“Don’t ask.” Nyla groaned. “If Tanya hadn’t come in on her day off, I would still be in the ER.”

Shelby resolved to buy Tanya chocolate or some other treat that human women liked. She hung Nyla’s jacket over the back of a chair and pulled out the chair so that Nyla could get off her feet.

Nyla smiled and sat.

Again, Shelby caught a whiff of blood. This time, she knew it wasn’t the lamb meat. Her gazed roamed over every inch of Nyla’s body. She flinched when she caught sight of Nyla’s elbow. “Nyla! What happened?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Shelby’s finger trembled as she pointed at Nyla’s elbow, which was covered in dried blood.

Mrs. Rozakis stood too and hurried over to Nyla to take a look at her elbow.

“Oh.” Nyla stared at her arm. “That must have happened when that patient panicked. He lashed out and knocked out Barbara before we could get a handle on him. Somehow, I must have hit my arm on a wall in all that chaos.”

Blood roared through Shelby’s ears. The mental image of an out-of-control man shoving Nyla against a wall without caring that she might get hurt made her body temperature shoot through the roof. Her forearms itched, and a tingling sensation crept up her spine. She clenched her fists and could almost feel coyote claws digging into her palms.

Take a deep breath. She shook her head to clear it. Great Hunter, what was that? But of course she knew that her body had gone through the first symptoms of an adrenaline-induced transformation. She could count on two fingers of one paw how often she had felt those warning signals.

Mrs. Rozakis hurried away and returned a few seconds later with a first-aid kit, which she handed Shelby.

Nyla waved her away. “Yiayia, it’s just a scratch. I’ll clean it when I go take a shower.”

“Let me do it,” Shelby said. “You can’t be too careful.” At least not when Nyla’s health was at stake. She washed her hands and guided Nyla over to the sink in the kitchen. Gently, she stroked Nyla’s forearm while she let water run over her elbow. She put on the latex gloves from the first-aid kit and studied the wound. Now that the blood had been washed off, she was relieved to discover that it was, in fact, just a small abrasion.

Mrs. Rozakis peeked over Shelby’s shoulder, a worried expression on her face.

Shelby gave her a reassuring smile.

“So, Doctor?” Nyla tilted her head and chuckled. “What’s your professional diagnosis? Will I live?”

“Chances of survival are good. It’s really just a scratch. A Band-Aid will be enough.” Shelby took the antibiotic ointment from the first-aid kit and gently spread it over the wound. Then she placed a Band-Aid over it and carefully smoothed down the sticky ends.

Her gaze met Nyla’s.

Shelby realized that she was still stroking Nyla’s arm.

“Thanks.” Nyla cleared her throat. She sat down at the table again and peeked into the pots and bowls. “I see you already ate.”

Mrs. Rozakis and Shelby returned to the table too. “We didn’t know when you’d be home,” Nyla’s grandmother said, “and poor Shelby was starving.”

Shelby’s cheeks warmed. Next time, she would eat more slowly. And less.

“It’s okay.” Nyla looked around the dining room. “Where’s Goliath? Don’t tell me he’s hiding beneath the couch because he still can’t stand Shelby?”

“Oh, no,” Shelby said with a proud grin. “He loves me.” When Nyla raised a skeptical brow, she pointed beneath the table.

Nyla lifted the tablecloth and peeked under the corner seat.

Goliath was rolled up into a little ball, next to Shelby’s feet.

“Oh, isn’t he cute?” Nyla leaned over and kissed Shelby’s cheek.

If chocolate hadn’t been poisonous for dogs, Shelby would have resolved to buy not only Tanya, but also Ringo a big chocolate bar.

* * *

Despite the cold night air, Shelby and Nyla sat in the hammock swing behind the house. Here, hidden from the curious stares of neighbors and Nyla’s grandmother, Shelby could finally relax.

Nyla leaned against Shelby’s shoulder. “Wow, you’re really hot.”

Shelby chuckled. Of course, she knew that Nyla was referring to the higher than normal body temperature of all Wrasa, but she couldn’t help teasing her a little. “Thank you.”

“That’s not what I meant, but ... well ... you’re not exactly unattractive.”

Shelby poked her in the ribs and wrapped one arm around Nyla.

For a while, they sat in the dark without talking.

The low sound of dog paws crossing a lawn came from the other side of the hedge that surrounded the house; then they faded away. Ringo whined as he caught a whiff of Shelby’s scent. He scurried away.

“I’m sorry I stood you up,” Nyla said. “But I couldn’t abandon the other staff before things had calmed down a little. I hope my grandmother didn’t torture you too much.”

“Hey.” Shelby squeezed Nyla’s shoulder. “There’s no reason for you to apologize.” The better she got to know Nyla, the more she liked her—her sense of duty, her warmth, her love of animals, and her loyalty to her grandmother.

Nyla turned and studied her in the light falling through the living room window. “I don’t know what it is, but you’re somehow different from the women I’ve dated before.”

Shelby stopped breathing, caught between panic and hope. “Are we dating?”

For a moment, only the rustling of the wind through the hedge interrupted the silence.

Then Nyla took an audible breath and blew it back out before she looked at Shelby. “Do you want to date me?”

Thoughts bounced through Shelby’s head. A human and a Wrasa. There’s no future for that. If the Saru catch us ... But then she focused on Nyla’s question, and there was no doubt in her mind. Of course she wanted to date Nyla. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more. She nodded without saying a word.

Nyla cuddled against Shelby’s shoulder. “Then it’s official.”

Official ... The word echoed through Shelby’s mind. No, she couldn’t make it official. She would have to be careful not to give their relationship away, and she would never be able to introduce Nyla to her pack. Suppressing a whine, she shook off those thoughts. For now, being with Nyla was enough. Worrying about tomorrow’s problems could wait until tomorrow.

Chapter 4

Nyla looked back over her shoulder. Her breath formed little white clouds in front of her mouth. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” Shelby wasn’t even close to being tired. After spending the last several weekends with Nyla and her grandmother, she was glad to get out and get some exercise.

Nyla sped up.

Shelby followed without effort.

Cyclists shot past them, so they couldn’t run next to each other in this part of the park, but Shelby was content jogging behind Nyla. She grinned. In her tight black spandex pants, Nyla was a sight that made getting up early worthwhile.

The path before them broadened.

Nyla glanced back. “Last one to the statue pays for breakfast.” Without giving Shelby time to reply, she broke into an all-out run.

“Hey! Unfair head start!” Despite her protests, Shelby laughed as she chased after Nyla. Blood rushed through her veins. Her body felt nearly weightless. For a moment, she almost thought she was running up the hill in her coyote form. She almost let out a playful bark as she caught up with Nyla. But her feet were still encased in running shoes instead of touching the ground as paws.

The path bent to the left.

Without slowing down, Nyla followed the path. Her arms and legs were pumping. Her ponytail beat a rhythmic staccato against her back.

A part of Shelby wanted to keep running behind her so she could watch her, but the coyote in her wanted to match her strength against Nyla’s in a race. She jumped across a frozen puddle and prepared to overtake Nyla.

Nyla sped up too.

For a few seconds, they ran side by side, each step in perfect harmony.

The statue of George Washington appeared in front of them.

Shelby grinned and put on a burst of speed.

With a strained expression, Nyla tried to keep up. When she realized she was falling behind, she laughingly reached out her arm. She tried to grab Shelby’s waistband to stop her from reaching the statue first.

Nimbly, Shelby dodged out of the way. She wanted to run like this forever, but she stopped when she reached the statue and whirled around to watch Nyla.

A few steps behind Shelby, Nyla sprinted toward the equestrian statue. When she reached it, she bent at the waist and put her hands on her thighs. After she had caught her breath, she straightened and shook her head at Shelby. “My God, are you on any drugs?”

Wrasa endorphins, baby. Shelby laughed and wrapped one arm around Nyla. “If I’m drugged, it’s only with your presence.” Greedily, she inhaled the scent of Nyla’s fresh sweat.

Nyla’s long-sleeved shirt clung to her chest, emphasizing her full breasts. A few strands of her hair had escaped her ponytail and were now sticking to her forehead in damp curls.

Tenderly, Shelby brushed one of the strands behind Nyla’s ear.

“Charmer,” Nyla said. She shivered. “Let’s head back.” She held out her hand for Shelby to take.

Shelby hesitated. If a Wrasa saw her jogging with Nyla, that was one thing. But to be seen holding hands with a human ... “Um, we better not. My hand is all sweaty.” She wiped her hand on her pant leg.

Nyla didn’t say anything, but the playful mood abruptly vanished.

Shelby bit her lip. She knew she hurt Nyla every time she pretended they were mere acquaintances when they were out in public, but she had no choice. “How about we go to the holiday market tomorrow?” she asked when the silence between them grew.

“Really?”

“Sure. Why not? I heard the Union Square market is really nice.”

Nyla turned her head and looked at her. “But you said you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“I don’t. But I can help you find a few presents for your family.” At least they could hold hands without a problem at the Christmas market. With all the smells, the noise, and the crowd, no Wrasa would ever want to visit a Christmas market.

They reached the end of the park. Shelby looked left and right before crossing the street.

Nyla followed. “That would be great. I haven’t found presents for everyone yet.”

“We could—” A sound to her left made Shelby whirl around.

A yellow taxi hurtled toward them without braking at the red light.

“Nyla!” Shelby leaped.

Nyla stood frozen to the spot. She threw her arms up as if that could protect her.

Seconds before the taxi hit her, Shelby pushed her out of the way and tackled her. In mid-fall, she wrapped her arms around Nyla and rolled so that she, not Nyla, would hit the pavement.

Shelby’s elbow and hip skidded across the pavement. Brakes squealed. Someone shouted.

Then everything fell silent.

Slowly, Shelby lifted her head. “Nyla?” She took Nyla’s face between both hands and stared into her eyes. Nyla’s pupils were wide, but even. Good. No concussion. “Are you okay?”

A car door banged shut. The cabbie ran over to them and tried to help Nyla stand.

Growling, Shelby slapped his hands away and let her gaze trail over Nyla. “Are you hurt?”

Nyla shook her head. “No. But you are.”

Shelby realized that her running pants were torn at the hip and her elbow peeked through a hole in her shirt. Blood dripped down her arm. Her skin burned like crazy, but it wasn’t just from the abrasions. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and made her forearms itch. Age-old instincts screamed at her to shift and protect Nyla from any danger.

“Can you move your arm? How about your leg?” Gently, Nyla palpated Shelby’s limbs.

“Yes. I’m okay. Just a few scrapes.” If she were a Wrasa who could effortlessly shift shape, one transformation would have healed the superficial wounds.

With a guilty expression on his face, the cabbie stepped closer. “Are you hurt? Want me to call an ambulance?”

“No! I mean … no, that’s not necessary.” She couldn’t let herself be treated by a human doctor. Even a first-year med student would realize immediately that her lab results and her wound healing weren’t those of a human. She turned toward the gawking audience, which had gathered around them. “Nothing to see here. Please move along.”

Hesitantly, the cabbie climbed back into his taxi and drove away. The crowd dispersed slowly.

“God, Shelby.” Nyla caressed her uninjured arm. “I didn’t hear the taxi coming. If it hadn’t been for you ... How did you manage to react so fast?”

Despite her tense muscles, Shelby tried to shrug casually. “When it really matters, humans are capable of amazing things. I’m sure you heard the story about the mother who lifted a car to save her child.” Of course, the mother had been a Wrasa, but fortunately, the media had found a different explanation. She pulled Nyla into her arms again.

Nyla trembled.

Or maybe it was Shelby who was trembling. Her arms itched. She pressed her face to the crook of Nyla’s neck. “If something had happened to you ...” She didn’t want to finish the thought.

Nyla trailed her fingers through Shelby’s hair. “Let’s head to the diner over there so I can take a look at your elbow and your hip.”

This time, even the possibility that a Wrasa might see them couldn’t stop Shelby from taking Nyla’s hand. She wouldn’t let Nyla out of her sight again. Hand in hand, they entered the diner.

* * *

The phone rang upstairs.

Taking two steps at a time, Shelby raced up the stairs. In her haste, she almost dropped the keys before she finally managed to unlock the front door. “Yes?” she said into the phone.

“Hi, stranger.”

Shelby dropped onto the leather couch and smiled as she finally heard the voice she’d been missing for the last five days and seventeen hours. Since they had been on different shifts this week, they had barely seen each other. After two months of spending almost every day together, being alone took some getting used to. “Hi, Nyla. I missed you.” She pressed her lips together, unsure if expressing her feelings so openly was a good idea. Sometimes, she still thought she shouldn’t commit her heart and soul to Nyla because their relationship couldn’t go anywhere.

“I missed you too,” Nyla answered without hesitation. “Maybe next time you’ll let me come with you when you go running with your cousin, then you won’t have to miss me for so long.”

“Um, yeah, maybe.” She couldn’t tell Nyla that Jocelyn and she hadn’t been running. A run through the forest meant something entirely different for a Wrasa. It had been almost two years since Shelby had last managed to shift shape. The next family get-together was coming up, so she had wanted to practice shifting. She had hoped it would stop her from making a fool of herself in front of the entire pack, but she had failed again.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow night?” Nyla asked. “You could come over and ... um, if you want, you can stay over.”

Stay over ...

A meaningful silence filled the phone line. They both knew what it meant. In the eight weeks since their first date, their kisses had become longer and hotter, but they hadn’t yet slept with each other. Normally, Shelby would have answered Nyla’s invitation with an enthusiastic “yes.” She wanted to explore every inch of Nyla’s body, wanted to cover it with kisses and find out if Nyla smelled of jasmine everywhere. “Nyla ... you’ve got no idea how much I want that, but I’m driving upstate to meet my family for the weekend.” She stared at the family portrait in her living room.

“Oh,” Nyla said. She sounded as frustrated and disappointed as Shelby felt. A hopeful tone entered her voice as she said, “How about if I come with you? I would love to meet your family.”

Shelby had been scared of this conversation for weeks. She had long since met Nyla’s parents. Even though they weren’t happy about their daughter’s sexual orientation, they had still been friendly toward Shelby. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” Nyla sounded hurt. “You haven’t told your family that you’re gay?”

Shelby rubbed her forehead. “That’s not it, but ... Maybe another time, okay?”

Nyla inhaled and exhaled audibly. “You know … I really get the feeling you’re hiding something from me. Shelby, I hope you know you can tell me anything, no matter what.”

A lump formed in Shelby’s throat. “I know.” She had been as open as possible with Nyla. About everything except for who and what she really was.

“So? Is there something you want to tell me?”

Want to? Shelby snorted. Of course she wanted to, but it was inconceivable to tell a human the truth about the Wrasa’s secret existence. “No,” she said, even though lying to Nyla hurt. “There’s nothing.”

Nyla sighed. “That’s exactly why my last relationship failed. The constant lies and secrets my ex kept.”

Shelby’s forearms tingled. “Are you comparing me with that two-faced snake? Jennifer cheated on you with half of the women in New York.”

For a few seconds, only the ticking of the grandfather clock interrupted the silence. Then Nyla sighed. “No. No, of course I’m not. I’m just frustrated because I don’t understand why you always keep me at arm’s length. You refuse to introduce me to your family and friends. We’re always at my place, never at yours. Shelby, I don’t understand. I thought things between us were going great.”

Shelby tore at her hair. “They are.”

Nyla was silent for a moment. “Let’s talk about it another time, okay? I have to take Goliath to the vet. He’s due for his vaccinations.”

Normally, Shelby would have offered to accompany her and help soothe her little friend, but at the moment, she just couldn’t face Nyla. “I’ll call you when I get back on Sunday.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you then,” Nyla said, but she didn’t sound as warm as usual.

After Nyla had hung up, Shelby laid on the couch, stared at the ceiling and listened to the phone’s beep-beep-beep. Finally, she fell into an exhausted sleep, the phone still pressed to her ear.

* * *

Moonlight filtered through the leafless treetops and made the snow beneath Shelby’s feet glitter like silver. She shivered in the cold winter air. Her feet felt like lumps of ice. Forget the cold. You’re a Wrasa. Focus. She called up the mental image of her coyote, just as she had been taught. She visualized the brown-yellowish fur on the coyote’s back and the lighter hair on its flanks and chin. She imagined feeling the bushy tail wag back and forth. With all her might, she longed for the tingling, itching, and aching that announced a transformation.

Nothing.

She opened her eyes.

The pack around her was gone. Only paw prints in the snow indicated where they had gathered around Shelby and waited to see if she would manage to turn into a coyote this time.

Jocelyn, now in her coyote form, paused at the edge of the clearing, lifted her muzzle to the sky and howled.

Shelby grimaced. She felt like crying too.

The voices of half a dozen other coyotes answered. Shelby could make out her father’s smoky voice, in perfect harmony with her mother’s higher one. A tired smile darted across Shelby’s face as her nephew added his unmelodious howl to the chorus.

Even Robbie, barely more than a teenager, could shift effortlessly.

Only Shelby was still sitting here in her human form. Her shoulders slumped. She rushed over to the fallen tree where she’d left her clothes. Hastily, she slipped into her pants, socks, and boots and then put on her sweater and coat. Shivering, she sank onto the tree trunk and breathed into her hands to warm them. Her breath condensed in the cold air. Wrasa don’t feel the cold. Yeah, right. Maybe that was true for Wrasa in their animal forms, but in her human form, Shelby was freezing.

She wanted to take her father’s car keys from his pants pocket and drive home. Or even better—drive to Nyla. But, of course, she couldn’t leave the pack behind.

She kicked at the snow. A fountain of snow rained down on the shrub across from her. With a frustrated growl, she leaned forward, put her elbow on her knees, and buried her hands in her hair. I’d give anything to be with Nyla now. A mental image of Nyla appeared before her mind’s eye, much more clearly than the image of her coyote form a few minutes ago. Her dark eyes. The sensuous lips. Her dimples when she smiled at Shelby.

She hadn’t smiled as often in the last few weeks, though. Nyla felt excluded from Shelby’s life.

The secret of the Wrasa’s existence was about to destroy her relationship. It’s all so pointless. I’m a shape-shifter who can’t shift. The life she led was that of a human. And still her laws forbade her from living happily ever after with a human.

Shelby dug the toes of her boots into the snow and gazed at the clearing’s edge, waiting for dawn and the return of her pack.

* * *

“Are you taking a break?” David, a fellow psychiatrist, asked when he saw Shelby heading toward the staff room.

“No,” Shelby said without turning around. “I need to use the copier. Mr. Wilkins’s therapist finally sent over the treatment report, but Mr. Wilkins wants us to return the originals.”

“Why don’t you get one of the nurses to copy them for you?”

Now Shelby stopped and turned toward her colleague. “Have you looked around? All the nurses are running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They’re already stressed enough. I’m sure it won’t hurt me to do it myself.”

David shrugged. “Whatever.” His scent—that of overripe tomatoes—let her know what he thought about her answer.

Shelby walked away and entered the staff room. She opened the copier’s lid and stared down at the sheet of paper in her hands. Was she being too protective of the ER’s nurses? Would her colleagues start to suspect that Nyla and she were a couple?

Steps approached. Before the door opened, Shelby knew who it was and what she was about to eat for her very late lunch. She pressed the copier’s start button and turned around, smiling.

“Hi, you,” Nyla said. She walked over to Shelby and leaned against the copier, holding a white paper box from the Chinese restaurant across the street.

Sesame chicken. Shelby grinned and breathed in the scent of chicken and jasmine. Weird. Somehow, Nyla smelled different today. Her familiar jasmine scent was still detectable, but another, tangier undertone had joined it. Instead of clashing with Nyla’s scent, the new scent fit perfectly and brought out the jasmine even better.

I wonder what that is. She shrugged. Maybe there was a new soap in the nurses’ station.

Nyla moved back a little and regarded Shelby with a furrowed brow. “Am I reeking?” She lifted the neck of her hospital top and bent her head to sniff herself.

“Oh, no, no, I ...” Shelby rubbed her neck. Great Hunter, how embarrassing. Now she had been caught sniffing Nyla like a pup. “You smell nice. New soap?”

“I don’t think so.” Nyla opened the box and fished for a piece of chicken with her chopsticks. “Did you know you’re the only psychiatrist who didn’t lose the ability to make copies when you received your medical degree?”

“David just pointed out that making copies is a job for you lowly nurses.”

“You.” Nyla slapped her shoulder.

Shelby grinned and watched Nyla push pieces of broccoli to the edge of the paper box. She lifted her hand to polish off the unwanted vegetable for Nyla, even though she wasn’t overly fond of broccoli either. She stopped in mid-motion and pulled back her hand. In the last few weeks, she had become much too careless and had almost eaten food from Nyla’s plate a few times. She needed to be more careful even if Nyla had no idea what sharing a plate meant.

“You okay?” Nyla asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Shelby realized Nyla was no longer leaning against the copier. Instead, her hip and shoulder rested against Shelby’s body. Nyla didn’t seem to be aware of it. She leaned against Shelby as if she were a beloved piece of furniture.

An intense wave of love swept over Shelby. She pressed her cheek against Nyla’s and tried not to be too obvious about sniffing her. She really smells different. And I don’t think it’s a soap. “New perfume?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you wearing a new perfume?”

Nyla chewed and swallowed before she answered, “No. I never wear perfume at work.”

Whatever it was, the beguiling scent made Shelby’s head spin. She sniffed again. The scent was familiar yet totally new, as if it were a new mix of ingredients she knew well. She almost smells like a Wrasa. Or more exactly: she smelled like a coyote shifter. She smelled like ...

Shelby stared at her. She smells like ... like me!

No, that wasn’t totally true. The scent was a complex mix of jasmine and Shelby’s own scent.

Mate scent! Shelby rubbed her eyes. But how is that possible? We haven’t even slept together.

Shelby gave herself a mental kick. Only clueless humans thought that sex was the determining factor of a relationship. It seemed their bodies had decided that they belonged together, so their scents had joined.

As a doctor, Shelby understood the chemical processes taking place between a mated couple, but that didn’t matter now. She was stuck on one thought: There was no way out now. Nyla was the woman she would spend her life with. Her heart rejoiced, but her common sense whispered, “Impossible.” How could she share her life with someone when she couldn’t even tell her the most fundamental truth about herself?

Chapter 5

Shelby paced the living room like a caged animal. When she almost collided with the coffee table, she forced herself to stop and looked at the old grandfather clock next to the bookcase.

Shit.

Time to head out. She had to be at Nyla’s place in half an hour. Today, she would stay over for the first time. Nyla’s grandmother was at bingo with her sister, so they had the house to themselves. Normally, a pack of wolves couldn’t have stopped Shelby from showing up at Nyla’s doorstep on time, but she knew that taking this step in their relationship implied a decision that she wasn’t ready for.

Nyla wasn’t a woman who did things by halves. She deserved a relationship without secrets and a partner who trusted her—if need be, even with her life.

And Shelby did. Still she hesitated. Everything she had been taught since she’d been a pup warned her never to reveal their existence to a human. But this wasn’t just any human. This was Nyla.

Nyla, whose life was on the line if a Wrasa found out about their relationship and called the Saru. Shelby rubbed her palms over her face.

How long do you think this would work? How long until her pack suspected that she didn’t just smell of human because she worked in a hospital full of human colleagues and patients? Even if her pack kept Shelby’s relationship secret, one day another Wrasa would find out. And then what?

Shelby glanced at the clock again. Maybe she should just stay home. But the thought of never seeing Nyla again pierced her heart like a dagger. She couldn’t break up with Nyla without offering some kind of explanation. Nyla deserved to decide for herself.

But what if she would decide against Shelby? What if Nyla ran away in a blind panic or was disgusted at the mere thought of having a relationship with a shape-shifter?

So many ifs and buts. Shelby sighed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t win. She reached for her car keys and weighed them in her hand. Make a decision. It’s now or never.

* * *

Shelby’s heart hammered so loudly that she almost didn’t hear the approaching footfalls. She jumped as the door opened.

Nyla stood in the doorway. She smiled, and her dark eyes glowed like a star-studded night sky. Her favorite jeans clung to her shapely hips, and a white blouse with the two top buttons undone offered a glance at her soft, tan skin. Mate scent surrounded her like an enchanting perfume.

Shelby’s mouth went dry.

“Hi,” Nyla said. “Come in.”

As soon as Shelby entered, Goliath bounded over and jumped up and down, tail wagging, until Shelby bent and patted him.

He rolled on his back so that she could scratch his belly.

Today, Shelby was too nervous to focus on bestowing some TLC on Goliath, though.

“You’re late,” Nyla said over her shoulder as she led Shelby to the living room. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing worth mentioning.” I only made a decision that could cost me my life. And yours. The lump in her throat grew until she could barely breathe. She sank onto the couch. “Traffic was horrible.”

In New York City, that was never a lie, but Shelby couldn’t stand the half-truths and secretiveness between them any longer. But what should she tell Nyla? Oh, by the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you ... I’m a Wrasa, a species of shape-shifters who has secretly lived among humans for millenniums. But don’t worry. We’re housebroken.

“Are you sick?” Nyla sat next to Shelby and gently touched her arm. “You look like you have a stomachache.”

“No, no, everything’s fine. Don’t worry.” She wrapped one arm around Nyla.

Nyla didn’t look entirely convinced. She cuddled up to her and trailed kisses over Shelby’s cheek and neck. “Are you sure? Because I’ve got plans for you.”

“I’m fine.” Shelby leaned her head against Nyla’s. Each and every one of her muscles ached under the weight of the responsibility she carried. She loved and desired Nyla, but she wasn’t in the mood for passionate seduction.

“Are you hungry?” Nyla asked. “I’ve got some leftover lemon soup my grandmother made.”

Even thinking of food made Shelby clench her teeth. Her stomach revolted. “No, thanks.”

Nyla studied her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” At least physically. But most of her fellow Wrasa would consider her insane if they knew what she was planning.

Nyla stared at her for a few seconds longer. Then her face brightened, and a smile brought out her dimples. “You’re nervous. How cute.”

Cute? No, that’s not cute at all. For the first time in her life, Shelby felt as if she would throw up any second.

Nyla reached for her hand and entwined her fingers with Shelby’s. “If you want to wait a little longer ...” She lifted Shelby’s hand and kissed her fingers. Over their raised hands, she looked deeply into Shelby’s eyes. “That would be all right.”

“Wait?” Shelby shook her head. She had postponed this conversation for too long anyway. “No, waiting won’t help.”

In the sudden silence, Goliath’s yawning sounded overly loud.

Nyla let go of Shelby’s hand, put a few inches of space between them, and studied her with a baffled shake of her head. “Help? Shelby, I thought we both wanted this.” She pointed back and forth between them. “And now you sound as if you were about to be tortured instead of spending the night with me.” Her scent reminded Shelby of a mortally wounded deer staring accusingly at the hunter with its big, dark eyes.

“What?” Shelby slapped her own forehead. “No, no, that’s not what I’m talking about. I ...” I’m making a mess of things. Maybe I shouldn’t do this after all.

“What are you talking about, then?”

Shelby shook her head. I can’t do this. She jumped up, about to flee.

Nyla held on to her hand. “Shelby, please. Tell me what’s going on.” She stepped toward Shelby and hesitantly touched her cheek. “You weren’t ...? I mean ... did someone … hurt you?”

Hurt me? Shelby blinked. Her brain was on overload and took a few seconds to decipher Nyla’s words. “Oh. You thought ...? No. No, that’s not it. I’m not afraid to sleep with you. Well, I may be a little nervous because I want everything to be perfect. But under different circumstances, I’d drag you to the bedroom and stay there until tomorrow.”

A blush crept up Nyla’s neck. Her eyes seemed to glow when she looked at Shelby. “Then why are we still here in the living room?” Her voice sounded husky.

Goose bumps covered every inch of Shelby’s skin. For a moment, she actually considered postponing all worries and doubts until tomorrow and just enjoying the night with Nyla.

But that wasn’t fair to Nyla. She should be allowed to decide for herself after knowing all the facts.

“Because there’s something I have to tell you first,” Shelby said. “And I’m not sure you’ll want to be with me once you find out.”

“Nonsense.” Nyla wrapped both arms around Shelby and shook her gently. “Shelby, I love you. Nothing you tell me will make me stop wanting to be with you.”

Her whole life, Shelby had waited to hear those words, but now they tasted bittersweet. “I love you too.” Her voice trembled so much that she could barely understand herself. “No matter what happens now, I want you to know that I never toyed with you.”

“You’re beginning to scare me.” Nyla’s hands clutched at Shelby’s sweater. “Please, tell me what’s going on before I imagine one horrible scenario after another.”

She had to tell her. Nyla would never guess what Shelby needed to tell her. Shelby led her back to the couch and urged her to sit. In her experience, humans preferred hearing bad news while they were sitting down. She remained standing. Her whole body tingled as if it were a live wire. “First you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,“ Nyla said without hesitation.

“Promise you’ll never tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

Nyla looked up at her. She listened attentively to every word Shelby said. “Of course I’ll keep it to myself. You can trust me. You know that.”

Okay. Tell her. Now. Shelby opened her mouth. And then shut it. Her muscles trembled. All of her joints hurt, and she could almost feel the tiny hairs on her arms grow. If she didn’t get herself together, she wouldn’t have to tell Nyla. Nyla would be able to see who and what she really was.

With determination, she put her inner coyote on a leash. Down, dammit. She breathed deeply. “I know you wondered why I never introduced you to my parents and my siblings. Or why we never went out to meet my friends. And why I never invited you into my apartment.”

Nyla nodded. “It’s not just that. You rarely talk about yourself. I have to drag every little piece of information out of you as if you are scared to say too much.”

“I am,” Shelby whispered. “I’ve been hiding my whole life. It has always been easy because no one has ever asked.”

“Asked about what?”

“Who I am.” Her fingertips hurt as if claws were about to erupt from them. “What I am,” she added and tried to chase away the burning in her fingers by shaking her hands. “I’m ...” She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see Nyla’s reaction. “I’m not human.”

“Of course you are. Whatever you did doesn’t make you a monster.”

Shelby opened her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “You don’t understand.” And how could she? What Shelby was, was beyond human imagination. “I’m not a human being. I’m a Wrasa, a shape-shifter who can switch back and forth between a humanoid and an animal form.”

Nyla stared at her as if she had just confessed to being a serial killer.

“Please don’t be afraid,” Shelby said quickly. “Most of the time, we’re a very peaceful species. I would rather chew off my own paw than hurt even one hair on your head.”

Slowly, Nyla crossed her arms over her chest. “I know psychiatrists have a weird sense of humor, but do you really think this is the right moment for jokes that—”

“This isn’t a joke. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

Nyla wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. Her cheeks were as pale as the fresh sheets on a hospital bed. “You want me to believe that you’re ... what? A werewolf?”

“No. No. Werewolves only exist in horror stories. We’re not humans who have been bitten and now howl at the moon once a month. We’re a separate species. We ...” Shelby stopped when she saw the expression on Nyla’s face. She had often seen this expression at work. It was the way humans looked at people they thought were crazy. It’s not working. I have to show her, or she won’t believe me.

Right now, she was so filled with adrenaline that shifting shape shouldn’t be a problem.

With determination, she pulled the sweater over her head and slipped out of her shoes. Her socks, pants, and T-shirt followed.

Nyla blinked. Her arms dropped to her sides as if they were two pieces of wood. “Um, Shelby, it’s not that I don’t want to see you naked, but we’re in the middle of this strange discussion and ...”

Goliath grabbed one of Shelby’s shoes and dragged it beneath the couch.

“I’ll show you,” Shelby said. Her whole body was trembling, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to fear or the first sign of transformation. “But maybe you should lock Goliath in the bedroom first, or the poor dog will have a heart attack.”

“I don’t think that’s ...”

“Please.”

“All right.” Sighing, Nyla bent down and pulled Goliath, along with Shelby’s shoe, out from under the couch. “Be right back.”

While Nyla carried Goliath to the bedroom, Shelby slipped out of her bra and panties. She closed her eyes and focused on her coyote form. Blood rushed through her veins. Her cells seemed to vibrate. Her spine ached and creaked as if it was preparing to lengthen into the tail of a coyote. The smells in Nyla’s house got more intense. She could almost feel the coyote hovering close to the surface.

Normally, she would have been overjoyed. But now she wasn’t in the mood for celebrations. Would Nyla run away if she was suddenly face to face with a coyote? And if she ran, would she ever return?

Her sensitized senses made out Goliath’s howls of protest and the scratching on the bedroom door as he was separated from the rest of the pack. Then she heard Nyla’s breathing and her steps coming down the stairs. Nyla’s heart was beating almost as fast as Shelby’s.

Shelby kept her eyes closed. “Okay,” she whispered when she heard Nyla stop in front of her. “Watch closely. And don’t be afraid. Even as a coyote, I would never hurt you.”

Her breath rattled through her lungs. Warmth flowed through her body. She visualized her joints shifting, her legs shrinking, and her nose and mouth growing into a muzzle. She dropped to her hands and knees. Okay. Now.

Nothing.

She nudged her inner coyote. Come on. Don’t let me down. Not now.

The coyote remained where he was, just inches outside of Shelby’s reach.

Her head pounded as she tried to focus on the mental image of the coyote.

Despite her efforts, nothing happened.

She opened her eyes and realized she was kneeling on the living room carpet, stark naked, still in her human form.

“I’m not sure what you think you’re achieving with all of this. Is this some weird attempt to drive me away?” Nyla rose abruptly. “You better leave now.”

“No, Nyla, please. Let me try again. I …”

Nyla pressed the pile of clothes into Shelby’s arms. “No. This was supposed to be a romantic evening, followed by a beautiful night. And you ... you turned it into a joke. Just leave. I can’t see you or talk to you right now.”

“But ...”

“Call me once you’re finally willing to tell me what’s really going on with you.” Tears in her eyes, Nyla whirled around and hurried up the stairs.

Shelby wanted to chase after her, to comfort her, and if need be to take back what she had said, but she knew that was impossible.

Nyla slammed the bedroom door shut behind her.

Now it was Shelby who was separated from the rest of the pack. Maybe forever. With fingers that felt as if they didn’t belong to her, she dressed, breathed in the jasmine scent one last time, and shuffled to her car, wearing just one shoe.

* * *

As soon as the rapid ringing of the doorbell had finally stopped, Shelby’s phone started to ring. She growled and pressed her pillow over her ears. She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. But with her sensitive hearing, she couldn’t ignore the irritating phone. She threw the pillow against the wall. “Can’t I even have some peace and quiet to die of a broken heart?”

The ringing of the phone was her only answer.

She snatched the phone from the bedside table. “What?”

“Shelby, open the door,” Jocelyn said. “I’ve been outside your apartment building, ringing the doorbell, for half an hour now.”

Great. Her cousin. Just what I need. Shelby pulled the covers over her head and moaned into the soft material. Why did she have to belong to a shifter subspecies that lived in packs? Why couldn’t she be a lonely bear shifter? “I’m sick,” she said into the phone. “You better leave before you get sick too.”

“Nonsense. You weren’t at the family get-together yesterday. Your father will have my hide if I don’t check on you.”

The family get-together! Shelby groaned. That had completely slipped her mind. She had called in sick on Monday morning so she wouldn’t have to face Nyla, and since then, she hadn’t left her den.

Growling, she shoved back the covers and shuffled to the door.

“What’s going on with you?” Jocelyn asked as soon as she had entered the apartment. “You look like something a wolf swallowed and then spit back out.”

“Thanks,” Shelby grumbled. “You’ve always been the charmer in the family.”

“What can I say ...” On her way to the living room, Jocelyn stopped so abruptly that Shelby nearly crashed into her. “Holy coyote! Are you out of your mind?” She whirled around and grabbed Shelby’s arm.

Shelby growled and shook off Jocelyn’s hand. She wasn’t in the mood for discussions. “Leave me alone.”

“That’s why you smelled as if you had robbed a perfumery at the last family get-together! You wanted to hide that you reek of this human woman!” Jocelyn stepped closer and shook Shelby’s shoulders. “Shelby, you can’t seriously think that you can trick the pack forever. Someone will find out. And then ...”

“Then nothing,” Shelby said. Normally, she would have panicked and begged Jocelyn not to betray her secret, but since Nyla had kicked her out, nothing could touch her emotionally. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jocelyn finally stopped shaking her. “What do you mean?”

“Nyla and I ... we’re finished. She sent me away like a mad dog.” She hung her head and stared at the wooden floor.

“What? Who does this arrogant human think she is?” If she had been in her coyote form, Jocelyn’s hair would have stood on end.

“Nyla isn’t arrogant,” Shelby said. “She just couldn’t handle ...” She stopped and bit her lip. She’d almost revealed too much.

“Couldn’t handle what?” Jocelyn pierced her with her amber coyote eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t ...? Great Hunter, Shelby! We’ve got to call the council. If she alerts the press ...”

Now it was Shelby’s turn to grab her cousin’s arm. “No! The council can’t find out about this. Don’t worry. Nyla won’t tell anyone. She didn’t even believe me. I wanted to show her, but …” She hung her head. “I failed again.”

The tense muscles beneath Shelby’s hands relaxed a little. “Maybe it’s for the best. A relationship with a human ... it never would have worked.”

The remark stung like a slap to the face. With tears in her eyes, Shelby looked at her cousin. “It worked for almost three months. It was the happiest time of my life. I know you said no human would ever be able to understand me. But she got me, Jocelyn, better than any Wrasa woman ever did. She knows what it means to be part of a pack, a family. She’s a Greek lesbian, so she knows what it means to grow up as a minority. She loves her grandmother, her job, her dog, and ... and me.”

Jocelyn snorted. “Can’t be much of a true love if she doesn’t even believe you.”

“Would you believe something like that without proof?”

“If the love of my life told me that, I would at least think about it.”

“Thanks,” Shelby grumbled. “You really know how to cheer me up.” She plodded to the living room and dropped onto the couch.

Jocelyn followed. “I’m just trying to be realistic. Maybe she didn’t love you as much as you love her.”

Her use of the past tense hit Shelby like another slap. She straightened her shoulders and took a defensive stance. “Oh, yes, she does. You can’t fake mate scent.”

“Mate scent?” Jocelyn looked like a coyote that had accidentally swallowed a rabbit in one bite. “You mean ...?” She shook her head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“I swear on our grandfather’s fangs.” Shelby put one hand over her heart. “I haven’t seen Nyla in almost a week. If I smell like her, it’s not because I’ve been with her recently. At first, I thought I was imagining things, but what you smell is mate scent.”

Jocelyn noisily sucked in air through her nose. Then she sank against the back of the couch. “But ... but how is that possible? Only two Wrasa who are meant for each other form mate scent. It doesn’t work with humans.”

“We used to think humans can’t be dream seers either until Jorie Price taught us otherwise. I bet fifty years from now, a lot of what we believe today will be completely obsolete. But then it’ll be too late for Nyla and me.” She squeezed her eyes shut when tears started to flow.

Jocelyn slid closer and wrapped one arm around her. “Don’t take this so—”

The doorbell interrupted whatever Jocelyn had wanted to say.

“Great,” Shelby mumbled. “Is the rest of the pack coming to see if I’m still alive?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. What if they discover the mate scent?”

“Stay here. I’ll get rid of them.” With one hand on Shelby’s shoulder, Jocelyn stood. She marched to the door.

Shelby rubbed her forehead and perked her ears as Jocelyn talked to the person on the other side of the intercom. But instead of her father’s baritone, another voice sounded through the small loudspeaker.

Nyla! Shelby jumped up so quickly that her vision blurred for a moment. She hurried to the door.

“Is that her?” Jocelyn asked, pointing at the door with her thumb. “Your human?”

Shelby nodded. “Please, you’ve got to promise that you won’t hurt her or tell others about us.”

Jocelyn stared at her. Her brow furrowed until she looked more like a pug than a coyote. “You make me sound like a bloodthirsty monster. Of course I won’t hurt her.”

Hesitantly, Shelby pressed the button that opened the front door. Her heart pounded as she waited for Nyla to reach her fifth-floor apartment.

“What is she doing here?” Jocelyn asked.

“I have no idea.” Had Nyla come to hear her out? Or to break up with her once and for all?

Shelby’s knees weakened. She clutched the doorframe.

The metallic whirring of the elevator stopped. Footsteps approached.

Shelby sent her cousin a pleading look. “Can you please go and leave us alone?”

“Oh, no, I won’t. I ...”

The footfalls stopped in front of Shelby’s apartment door. The jasmine scent became stronger, but this time, it wasn’t the lovely scent of fresh blossoms. Nyla smelled of wilted jasmine.

Shelby’s stomach felt as if it were filled with gravel. Nyla’s suffering. She swallowed. “Jocelyn, please,” she whispered before she opened the door.

Nyla’s cheeks were pale. Dark shadows lurked beneath her eyes. She smelled of salt as if she had done nothing but cry for the last five days.

Shelby barely held herself back from enfolding her in her arms.

They stood staring at each other without saying a word.

Jocelyn cleared her throat.

Nyla jumped and looked at Jocelyn, then back at Shelby. “Oh. I didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s okay,” Shelby said. “My cousin was about to leave anyway.” She emphasized the word “cousin,” not wanting Nyla to become upset at finding another woman in her apartment.

Jocelyn made no move to walk toward the still open door. She stared at Nyla as if she had never seen a human before. Slowly, she stepped closer and reached out her hand. “Hi. I’m Jocelyn, Shelby’s cousin.”

When Nyla took a step toward her and took her hand, Jocelyn’s nostrils flared.

Shelby wanted to grab her by the neck like an unruly puppy and drag her away from Nyla. I know what you’re doing, cousin. Go ahead and sniff her. You’ll see that I was right. Even the smell of tears and wilted jasmine couldn’t hide the mate scent.

When Jocelyn let go of Nyla’s hand, Jocelyn’s face was as pale as Uncle Jacob’s winter fur.

“Thanks for checking on me,” Shelby said. “And if you see my parents, please don’t mention this. Please.”

Nyla looked back and forth between them. “What’s going on?”

Neither of them answered.

Ignoring Nyla completely, Jocelyn stared at Shelby. “Are you sure that this is what you want? Even if our laws change one day, you’ll be even more of an outsider than you are now.”

“I don’t care.” Shelby held Jocelyn’s gaze. For once in her life, she wouldn’t submit to her pack’s expectations.

After a few seconds, Jocelyn nodded and averted her gaze. “All right. Whatever you want.” She headed to the door and stepped into the hallway. After two more steps, she turned. “I’ll think of something to explain the mate scent at the next family get-together.”

Again, Shelby clutched the doorframe as her knees weakened, this time in relief. “Thank you.”

“Mate scent?” Nyla whispered. “What are you talking about?”

With trembling fingers, Shelby closed the door. Now she was alone with Nyla, who expected explanations. Would she be willing to listen, or would she send Shelby away again? Slowly, Shelby turned around.

Nyla was still staring at the door, where Jocelyn had disappeared moments ago. Her scent revealed the confusion and emotional chaos that had to rage within her. She looked up.

For a few seconds, they looked at each other.

Finally, Nyla said, “Here. I brought back your shoe.” She handed over Shelby’s missing sneaker. “Goliath chewed it up pretty badly. I’m sorry.”

Shelby stroked the thoroughly chewed shoelaces, then dropped the shoe next to the coatrack. “I don’t care about the shoe. How are you?”

“I won’t lie and say I’m fine,” Nyla said. “I barely slept all week. I lay awake, thinking. I still don’t know what to think about all of this.” She waved her hand in a gesture that included Shelby and the door that Jocelyn had left through. “I’ve got so many questions, and I need some answers.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

Nyla stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. “If I ask you something, will you promise to tell me the truth?”

Shelby’s vocal chords felt frozen, so she just nodded.

Nyla leaned against the wall as if she needed its support. “At Halloween, when I saw the man in the parking lot change into ... a wolf or something like that ...?

Yes, of course! Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Shelby nodded enthusiastically. “I’m pretty sure you saw a Wrasa.”

“But you said it was just stress and exhaustion.”

Shelby swallowed. “I know. But … I lied.”

“I don’t understand any of this.” Nyla entered the living room, looking around as if she expected to find a pack of wolves waiting for her. She sat on the only armchair, so Shelby had no choice but to sit on the couch instead of next to Nyla, as she usually did. “There are people who can turn into animals?”

“Not just any people,” Shelby said. “Wrasa. Some of us can turn into wolves—or at least into something that human brains perceive as a wolf. Some Wrasa transform into tigers or bears. And some, like my cousin and me, turn into coyotes.”

Nyla clamped her lower lip between her teeth. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you show me? Couldn’t remember the magic spell or something?”

The old feeling of shame rose in Shelby. She studied the floor. “No. We’re not sorcerers. For us, shifting shape is as natural as breathing. At least for all other Wrasa. I’m the exception.” With her thumb nail, she painted invisible lines on the leg of her jogging pants. “I don’t know why, but it’s difficult for me to shift. My parents dragged me to every Wrasa doctor in North America when I was a teenager, but no one ever found out what makes me different.”

“And you’re really sure you’re not human?” Nyla looked at her as if she still hoped it was all just a very bad practical joke.

Shelby sighed. “Sometimes, I wish I was human. Unlike many other Wrasa, I like humans. Not all of them, but ... I like you.” She shook her head. “No. I love you. That’s why I didn’t want to lie to you any longer. I’m truly a Wrasa.” She held her breath while she waited for Nyla’s reaction.

“How do I know that’s the truth?”

Nyla’s distrust hurt, but on the other hand, it wasn’t really surprising. Humans were used to believing only what they saw with their own eyes. “Think about it for a minute. I’m sure you noticed a few things about me that you found odd. You always tell me that I’m different from the women you dated in the past. Why?”

“Well ... For one thing, you never seem to mind playing cards with me and my grandmother instead of being alone with me.”

“I love being alone with you,” Shelby said, “but family is important. I enjoy being part of a pack after not really having that for so many years.”

“Pack ...” Nyla slowly shook her head. Her gaze darted back and forth. Lines formed on her forehead. “And you never complained about all the food my grandmother heaped on your plate. My exes sometimes looked like they were about to vomit, but you ...”

Shelby patted her belly. “I’ve got the metabolism of a Wrasa. The portions you normally eat for dinner are just a little snack for us.”

“Hmm. I thought it was because you are so athletic. Whenever we raced each other, you won without even getting out of breath. And you were fast enough to save me from that crazy cabbie.” Nyla chewed on her thumb nail.

“I’m not into sports,” Shelby said. “It’s just that physically, we’re superior to humans. That’s one of the reasons we keep our existence secret. Humans tend to hate what they don’t understand and to persecute what scares them.”

Nyla gnawed on her lower lip as if she had to digest the information. Finally, she looked up. “How many of you are there?”

“In the US, there have to be about,” Shelby paused to think, “three million.”

“Th-three million?” Nyla clutched the armrests with both hands. “But that means ... you’re everywhere! My neighbors, my friends, my colleagues ... everyone could be one of you!”

Nyla’s tone when she said “one of you” hurt. Shelby lifted her hands in a placating gesture. “Nyla, please. There’s no reason for paranoia. We’re not monsters who’re constantly out on the prowl, just waiting to slit the throats of innocent humans. Most of us just want to live in peace. We love our families, our jobs, and some of us, like me, even love humans.”

Nyla’s head rested against the back of the armchair as if it were too heavy to lift. “What does that mean for me? For us? Are you still the Shelby that I know?” She paused and then added in a whisper, “And love?”

“Of course I am.” If Nyla had been a Wrasa, Shelby would have gone over to her and let her scent speak for her. But humans couldn’t ascertain the truth of a statement with their noses, so she had just words to convince Nyla. “I love you from the bottom of my heart. If it had been up to me, I would have told you the truth from the start. But it’s not that easy. There are consequences if you’re a Wrasa who’s in a relationship with a human. That’s why I wanted to tell you before we ...” She pointed at the bedroom door.

Nyla kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs to her chest. She was still wearing her coat as if she needed its protection. “Consequences? What are you talking about?”

Her anxious expression coaxed a tired smile out of Shelby. “Don’t worry. You won’t turn into a coyote after I nibble on your earlobe or something like that. But we Wrasa have very strict laws. In the Middle Ages, we nearly became extinct because some humans found out about us and started a witch hunt. Since then, we protect the secret of our existence, no matter the cost.”

“No matter the cost?” Nyla wrapped her arms more tightly around her knees. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Our laws forbid close relationships with humans. The risk of being found out is too high. And if one of us violates the law and reveals our existence to a human ...” Shelby massaged her neck as a lump formed in her throat. “In the past, Wrasa who did such a thing were hunted and killed by the Saru. The same happened to humans who found out about us.”

Nyla let her head drop against the back of the armchair. She stared past Shelby as if she wanted to flee, but then she stayed where she was. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Saru?” she asked in a low tone.

“Soldiers who protect the secret of our existence. They’re not blood-thirsty killers, but they have killed humans in the past.”

Nyla swallowed audibly. “In the past? They don’t do that anymore?”

“A lot of things are changing. The Saru were ordered not to kill humans, but I wouldn’t stake my life—or yours—on it.” Shelby stood, circled the coffee table, and knelt in front of Nyla to look into her eyes. “You’re risking a lot by being with me. We’ll never be able to have a normal relationship. I can’t introduce you to my friends or my family. You can’t stay at my place because my Wrasa neighbors might see you. I’ll even have to move so that Lennard and Clara can’t smell your scent on me.”

“Your neighbors are shape-shifters too? That elderly couple? But ... but they ... they were a bit grouchy but otherwise seemed pretty harmless.”

Shelby smiled humorlessly. “They are harmless. I’m just not sure they would keep quiet if they find out we’re in a relationship. We would always have to hide.” She swallowed and forced herself to continue. “If you want to break up now that you know everything, I’ll understand. You deserve better than living in fear and secrecy.”

For a long time, Nyla sat without saying a word, her arms wrapped around her knees, while she stared at Shelby. Finally, she leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. Now their heads were just inches apart. They looked into each other’s eyes. “What about you? You deserve better too.”

Shelby lowered her head. “Of course I’d wish for a better life, but I don’t have a choice. You do.”

“Do I?” Nyla murmured as if she were talking to herself. “I don’t have any more of a choice than my grandmother did.”

“Your grandmother?” Shelby furrowed her brow. What did Nyla’s grandmother have to do with anything? Her heartbeat sped up. Had Nyla told her grandmother what Shelby was?

“My grandmother married my grandfather after knowing him for just three days. She always said she didn’t have a choice.”

“A forced marriage?” Shelby wrinkled her nose. Humans had strange traditions.

Nyla smiled for the first time since she’d arrived at Shelby’s. “No. She fell head over heels in love with my grandfather. Five minutes after meeting him, she couldn’t imagine sharing her life with anyone else.”

Carefully, Shelby shuffled closer. Her nose was almost touching Nyla’s. Shelby shivered as Nyla’s warm breath washed over her face. She stared into Nyla’s dark eyes. “You mean ...” She didn’t dare voice it.

“I’m scared and confused, and common sense tells me to run away as fast as I can. But,” Nyla shrugged and a tiny dimple formed on her left cheek, “I can’t pass up a tasty morsel like you—even if you’re a very strange tasty morsel.”

A pack of wild horses couldn’t have held Shelby back any longer. She eagerly wrapped her arms around Nyla.

Nyla, who had been perched on the edge of the armchair, slipped.

Before Shelby could stop their fall, they tumbled to the floor with Nyla on top. Shelby still had protective arms wrapped around Nyla. She barely felt the cold, hard floor. The only thing she felt was Nyla—her body, her scent, her warmth. “Nyla,” she whispered against the soft lips. She stared into dark eyes and admired Nyla’s long lashes, the elegant nose, and the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her mouth. Her nostrils quivered as she sucked in Nyla’s breath. The scent of wilted jasmine was gone. Now Nyla smelled of fresh blooms, mixed with the tangy scent of a coyote romping through dewy grass. She rubbed her nose over Nyla’s neck.

After a few seconds, Nyla sank against her. Every muscle in her body softened. Not even a sheet of paper could have fit between them now. “Is this a Wrasa tradition?” Nyla asked, her voice husky.

“Hmm?” Nyla’s nearness made thinking nearly impossible. Shelby lifted her head. “Um ... what do you mean?”

“Making love on the living room floor.”

Making love? Shelby swallowed. Heat rushed through her. Did Nyla mean …? “Oh, um ... no. Of course not.” She rolled around until she positioned herself over Nyla. Shifting her weight onto hands and knees, she looked down at Nyla. “You mean ...?”

“Everything feels so ... surreal since Saturday night,” Nyla said in a low voice. “I need something that lets me know that our love ... the connection I feel between us is not an illusion.”

“It’s real,” Shelby whispered. She lifted Nyla’s hand and pressed it against her pounding heart. “I’m really sorry I ...”

Nyla covered Shelby’s mouth with her soft fingers. “Not now. We’ll talk later. I’ve done nothing but think for the past five days, and if I keep doing that, my head will explode. For the moment, I don’t want to think. I only want to feel.”

Shelby looked into her eyes. The problems between them weren’t completely resolved, but the love she saw in Nyla’s eyes made her believe the two of them had a chance. That made her happier than going through a successful transformation. She leaned down and kissed Nyla, at first careful and slow, but then, when Nyla kissed her back, with more passion. “We Wrasa do have a tradition,” she murmured between kisses.

“Hmm?” Nyla nibbled on Shelby’s lower lip until every cell in Shelby’s body seemed to burn.

Breathing heavily, she looked down at Nyla. “If we make love, it lasts for three days and three nights. You better take tomorrow off.” She kissed Nyla. “And the day after tomorrow.” Another kiss. “And the day after that.”

Nyla pulled back to stare at her. “Are you serious?”

Shelby laughed. “No.” She laughed again at the mix of relief and disappointment on Nyla’s face. “But we can start our own tradition.” She stood on shaky legs and offered her hand to help Nyla up.

Nyla took her hand without hesitation. “Okay. I’ll call the head nurse.”

Shelby led her to the bedroom and, once there, pulled her close and started nibbling on her neck. “Later. Much later.”

Chapter 6

“Are you nervous?” Nyla asked as they left the trail and headed deeper into the forest.

For a moment, Shelby was tempted to give her usual answer: Of course not. Shape-shifting was totally natural for a Wrasa, so why would she be nervous? But this time, she was in the forest with Nyla, not with her family. There was no reason to pretend, so she nodded.

Nyla reached for her hand without saying a word. For a while, they strolled side by side until the dense forest forced them to walk single file. “You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself about the shape-shifting.”

“I’m not pressuring myself.”

“No?” Nyla caught up with her and lightly slapped her hip. “Whenever a family get-together is coming up, you disappear for a few nights to practice shifting, and when you come back, you’re frustrated because it didn’t work. And you’ve been so nervous today that you drove poor Goliath crazy.”

Shelby bent a low-hanging branch to the side and held on to it so that it wouldn’t hit Nyla in passing. “All right.” She sighed. Her shoulders drooped. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just that I want to show you how I look in my coyote form. I want you to share that part of my life.”

“I know. And I feel very honored.” Nyla hooked one hand into Shelby’s waistband because the path was still too narrow to walk next to her and hold hands. “But when it comes to me, you’ve got nothing to prove. I believe you when you say you’re a Wrasa even if I’ve never seen you turn into a coyote.”

Shelby grinned. “What gave me away? My appetite? My sensitive hearing? Or my incredible stamina during sex?”

Nyla slid her hand deeper and pinched her ass. “At least when it comes to the latter, we humans can keep up with you just fine.”

Oh, yes. Heat rushed through Shelby at the thought of how well Nyla could keep up with her.

“I don’t love you because you’re a Wrasa who can turn into a coyote. I love you for your honesty, your loyalty, your sense of humor, and ...” She gave Shelby a wink. “... your incredible stamina during sex.”

Shelby’s tension receded as she laughed.

“Seriously,” Nyla said. “If we leave this forest without me seeing so much as the tip of a coyote’s tail, I’ll still love and respect you.”

Shelby stopped and turned. Tenderly, she rubbed her cheek against Nyla’s and kissed her.

Nyla tugged a strand of hair behind Shelby’s ear.

They smiled at each other and continued deeper into the forest.

Shelby took in the sounds of the forest. With every step, her senses seemed to sharpen more. To her left, a deer was weaving its way through the undergrowth, but with Nyla at her side, Shelby didn’t feel the urge to chase after it. She followed the gurgling of a creek until they reached a small clearing. “Let’s stay here,” Shelby said. “Seems like a safe place.” She led Nyla to a fallen tree. “Do you remember what you’re supposed to say if I actually manage to shift and humans come across us?”

“I’ll tell them my dog is a fear biter and they should keep their distance. Then I’ll try to get you to the car as fast as possible,” Nyla said.

“Good.” Shelby nodded. “And if someone enters the clearing while I’m kneeling in the leaves stark-naked, trying to shift?”

With a straight face, Nyla said, “Then we’re worshippers of a neo-religious cult, practicing our right to freedom of religion.”

“And if any Wrasa show up?”

The humorous twinkle in Nyla’s eyes faded. “Forget it. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Nyla …”

Nyla shook her head, making strands of hair fall onto her face. “We’re a pack, right? A pack doesn’t leave any of its members behind.”

Shelby sighed but didn’t try again to change Nyla’s mind. She had tried to persuade Nyla since she had told her she wanted to bring her to the forest. Nyla hadn’t budged. It doesn’t matter anyway. I probably won’t make it this time either, and we’ll be back in the car within fifteen minutes.

The spring sun warmed Shelby’s back as she slowly undressed.

Nyla took each article of clothing from her and folded it carefully. When Shelby stood before her naked, Nyla embraced her and kissed her temple before she stepped back.

For a moment, Shelby shivered without the warmth of Nyla’s body against hers. Then she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the transformation. She called up the mental image of the coyote and imagined feeling his fur grow beneath her skin.

A slight tingling ran down her forearms, but otherwise, nothing happened.

Shelby tried harder. Her temples started pounding. Normally, shape-shifting didn’t cause this kind of pain. You won’t make it. In a minute, she would open her eyes and give up, but first she wanted to take in the forest.

The muscles of her ears twitched as she tried without success to rotate her ears toward the birdsong. The sun was strong for a day in spring, and Shelby imagined it shining down on her fur. She sniffed, breathing in the scents of moss, ferns, and earth. A smile crept onto her face as she caught a whiff of jasmine.

Even though jasmine wasn’t native to American forests, the scent mingled with that of the forest as if they had always belonged together.

Shelby relaxed and imagined lying next to Nyla, her muzzle on Nyla’s thigh, and sleeping until the scent of the souvlaki they’d brought roused her.

The skin on her forearms began to tingle; then a burning sensation ran down her back. Heat spread from cell to cell.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

Her bones creaked. Pain shot through each of her joints. She rose on her toes as her foot became part of her leg. Her fingers connected to leathery footpads. Needle-sharp claws erupted from her fingertips. She lifted her muzzle, which had formed from her nose and mouth, and howled.

Slowly, the pain lessened. Panting, she opened her eyes. The world had mutated to an array of yellows, grays, and browns. Again she lifted her muzzle into the breeze and sniffed. An enticing scent hit her nose. The wind carried the scent of jasmine and human. Her human.

With a short bark, she ran over to her mate and bowed down on her front paws until her chest nearly touched the ground. Then she jumped up, playfully nipped her mate’s calf, and bounded away.

After a wild chase across the clearing, she slowed to allow her slower pack mate to catch up. She rolled on her back and allowed gentle fingers to pluck leaves and clumps of earth from her fur. After a while, she rested her head on her mate’s warm thigh and let out a contented sigh. Her human caressed her ears and trailed her fingers through her ruff. Protected by her pack, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

In her dream, she was frolicking through a garden filled with jasmine, her mate by her side.

###

About Jae

Jae grew up amidst the vineyards of southern Germany. She spent her childhood with her nose buried in a book, earning her the nickname “professor.” The writing bug bit her at the age of eleven. For the last six years, she has been writing mostly in English.

She works as a psychologist and likes to spend her time reading, playing board games with friends, spending time with her nieces and nephew, and watching way too many crime shows.

Connect with Jae online

Jae loves hearing from readers!

E-mail her at jae_s1978@yahoo.de

Visit her blog: jaefiction.wordpress.com

Visit her website: jae-fiction.com

Follow her on Twitter @jaefiction

Coming from Ylva Publishing in spring 2013

http://www.ylva-publishing.com

Crossing Bridges

Emma Weimann

As a Guardian, Tallulah has devoted her life to protecting her hometown, Edinburgh, and its inhabitants, both living and dead, against ill-natured and dangerous supernatural beings.

When Erin, a human tourist, visits Edinburgh, she makes Tallulah more nervous than the poltergeist on Greyfriars Kirkyard—and not only because Erin seems to be the sidekick of a dark witch who has her own agenda.

While Tallulah works to thwart the dark witch’s sinister plan for Edinburgh, she can’t help wondering about the mysterious Erin. Is she friend or foe?

Hot Line

Alison Grey

Two women from different worlds.

Linda, a successful psychologist, uses her work to distance herself from her own loneliness.

Christina works for a sex hotline to make ends meet.

Their worlds collide when Linda calls Christina's sex line. Christina quickly realizes Linda is not her usual customer. Instead of wanting phone sex, Linda makes an unexpected proposition. Does Christina dare accept the offer that will change both their lives?

Table of Contents

Acknowledgment

Author ’s note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About Jae

Coming from Ylva Publishing in spring 2013