Kathy Love - My Sister Is A Werewolf

“Calm down,” she muttered to herself. “Relax. You are close.”

She’d even been so sure she was only just a few genome sequences away that she’d sent her latest serum to Dr. Fowler, her mentor. He’d be able to look at the cell changes and tell her where the cure stood. She knew it was so close.

And that was probably part of her impatience and agitation. She couldn’t wait to hear back from Fowler.

Opening her eyes, she still felt unsteady, but her reasoning had helped a little. For the first time, she realized her workstation was littered with test tubes, petri dishes, discarded slides. She frowned at the mess, surprised by it. Normally, she was very neat. Almost compulsively so.

“That’s your problem,” she said, fumbling to tidy her space. “You’re rushing. You’re not taking your time and thinking clearly. You are anxious to hear what Dr. Fowler thinks and it’s making you careless. You need to just calm down.”

“Who?” an eerie voice said from behind her.

Elizabeth spun; her lips curled back, her stance ready to attack. The thick plastic seemed to shiver as the wind whistled through the barn boards, but otherwise she heard no sound. Still she didn’t relax her pose as she cocked her head, listening intently.

The walls creaked under another gust of the wind. She could hear the leaves rustling outside. Then she heard the ghostly question again.

“Who?”

Taking slow, precise steps, she edged closer to the entrance of the lab. The plastic rustled as another blast of wind caused the barn to moan. She hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then whipped apart the thick, draped plastic.

“Who?”

Elizabeth ’s head snapped upward, realizing the sound was coming from overhead. Even though the barn was dark, she could still easily see the several oval shapes lined up on the rafters. Yellow eyes blinked down at her.

She tilted her head, surprised.

“Owls?” she said, a bewildered smile touching her lips. Seven owls peered at her. When was the last time she’d seen an owl this close? In the stables of her family’s Derbyshire estate, maybe?

She watched them for a moment, amused by the rare sight. Or rather, a rare sight to her. Then she took a step closer, fully expecting the animals to sense they were near something that they really shouldn’t be, and fly away. But they remained still, except for the occasional blink of those impassive eyes.

Frowning, she stepped closer, until she was nearly beneath the rafter. The birds didn’t shift and showed no inclination to flee. Instead they bowed their heads, watching her with those golden, unreadable eyes.

“What are you crazy birds doing?” she finally asked, with a bewildered shake of her head. The reply to her question was more incomprehensible blinks.

How very odd. It would have been odd enough for so many owls to be perched in the barn. But to stay near her? That was very strange.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Elizabeth wondered if the birds had decided she was a safer risk than the approaching storm. Another gust of wind hit the barn, and a draft reached her where she stood. Air played over her skin and ruffled the tendrils of her hair like unseen fingers.

She gasped at the invisible touches, something akin to desire rocketing through her, shocking and powerful. Too powerful. Overhead she heard the whoosh of wings fill the air, joining the mayhem.

Well, the owls weren’t completely senseless. They had sensed the powerful change in her, and self-preservation had finally kicked in. She watched them swoop through the rafters, as she tried to suppress the strange compulsion inside herself. Finally, although she had no idea how much time had passed, she felt under control. Mostly under control.

Slowly, one by one, the owls returned to their previous perch, again watching her. She stared back, confused.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

One hooted, another blinked, and none of them answered her-of course.

Suddenly the strangeness of the past few days, the agitation within her, this new and sudden flare of restlessness that had felt strangely like arousal-even the damned owls staring down at her-were too much.

She had to be driving herself too hard. She needed a break. Surely she could spare one evening. She obviously needed it. Then she could approach all of this again in the morning, calmer, more relaxed.

She looked back up at the owls, who sat stock-still. The embodiment of tranquility.

Oh yeah, she needed to get away from here.

Elizabeth heeled down the kickstand of her motorcycle just as the rain started to fall in large, cold splats around her. She’d parked the large black Harley Night Rod as close to the side of the building as she could, hoping that would shield it from some of the water. With quick steps, she approached the bar, working the chinstrap of her helmet and pulling it off just as she stepped through the door.

She glanced around, searching for her brother. She located him behind the bar, where he poured a mug of beer from the tap. The sight still gave her pause. Christian. Her brother. Her family. The family she’d believed was gone forever. The fact that the wealthy brother she remembered now tended bar in a backwoods watering hole just added to the surrealism of the scene.

“ Elizabeth,” he greeted her with a smile that seemed just a little amazed as well.

As she walked up to him, her boots thudding loudly on the worn floorboards, she wondered if his expression reflected his own amazement that she was alive, too. The fact that she and her brothers had been reunited for nearly three months now hadn’t diminished their wonder. Her beloved brothers.

Christian’s eyes left her face, dropping to her outfit for just a fraction of a second. Some of her joy fled. Maybe the amazement in his eyes had more to do with the fact that she was nothing like the little sister he remembered.

But whether he was shocked by who she was now or not, his pale eyes shone with pleasure as he came around the bar and gave her an enveloping hug.

“Hey, I’m glad you stopped by tonight,” he said after he released her. “Jolee and I were thinking about coming up to your place to be sure you were all right. You’ve been a real recluse since you moved there.”

Guilt filled her. When she’d believed her brothers were dead, she’d cried over the loss for years. She’d begged to have them back. Yet now that she finally had them, she had a hard time facing them.

“My research is keeping me very busy,” she told him, feeling the excuse was lame, even though it was true. Just not the whole truth.

She feared that her brother wouldn’t understand, much less like, the person she was now. She was so, so different from the young, naive girl her brother once knew. But she didn’t want to be. She had her family back now, and she wanted that girl back, too. That long-gone girl.

Whereas, aside from being more handsome, stunningly so, Christian was unchanged. He looked just like the brother she believed dead in 1822. But time had no effect on vampires, except to make them more attractive. He was still the Christian she remembered.

She knew he didn’t see the same arrest of time in her. She’d once been the baby of the family-nearly ten years Christian’s junior-but now she’d caught up to him. In fact, she was his same age exactly. And that was just the start of the changes.

Did he wonder where the frivolous, carefree, innocent sister he’d once known had gone? And who was this older, leather-clad, toughened woman who stood in front of him now?

“You look great,” he said as if he guessed what she was thinking. He hugged her again.

This time, she closed her eyes and hugged him back. God, she had missed him.