Sheer Bliss (8 page)

Matings between shifters
were arranged early, sometimes when the prospective marrieds still
wore diapers. The ball served mainly to present couples in a formal
setting, not unlike a coming-out party. Nonetheless, it occurred to
Calla that Caleb might use the event to coerce her into a
commitment of sorts. Seeing Sheila when she dropped Caleb off at
the house reminded her of the lady panther’s not-so-subtle
encouragement—the woman wanted her at the ball tonight. Wanted her
with Caleb, though she hadn’t said that out loud.

She didn’t put Caleb up to
taking Trisha to the salon today, did she?

Calla shook away her
suspicions. With Bliss being such a small town, she expected to run
into Caleb often. Perhaps with her nephew on the market again,
Sheila sought to pair him with anybody halfway acceptable just to
get him out of the house. With three growing kids running around,
the woman no doubt had enough headaches.

Calla, on the other hand,
had no kids and nothing new to wear. Choosing to let fashion
inspiration strike on its own, she remained nude and went
downstairs for a glass of wine. She saw no need to be at the ball
right when it started.
Let Caleb stew a bit
, she thought
with a smile.

Glass of Chardonnay in
hand, she drifted over to the back glass doors and gazed with awe
at the cloud-streaked sky. Cirrus strips cut soft swaths into deep
shades of red and magenta—a true sailor’s delight, if Calla
remembered her nautical lore. In the distance, gentle waves lapped
against the empty shore, reminding Calla again how lucky she was to
live in such a lovely part of the Garden State. Normally she’d see
a die-hard beachcomber or two at this time of night, waving a metal
detector over the sand, but not a soul occupied the area now.
Everybody was probably getting ready for the ball or already
there.

A nice opportunity for
fresh air, she realized, and took her wine out into her enclosed
back yard. She relished the breeze coming in from the ocean as it
washed over her bare skin. One thing she liked about living in this
non-touristy part of the shore was the freedom to walk out in her
altogether and not worry about attracting an audience. Her
immediate neighbors rarely appeared outdoors on the beachside—and
Calla often questioned why anybody would buy an oceanfront home and
not take advantage of it—but if they saw her they kept
quiet.

Perhaps, she wondered, if
they said something she’d put clothes on next time. Calla laughed
aloud at the thought and drained her wineglass.

Stepping closer to the
brick wall, she recalled when Maya trotted up to her home in wolf
form. Thinking about what she’d gleaned from shifter friends about
how they lived and how shifting affected them physically and
mentally, Calla nonetheless fantasized on occasion of transforming
easily into a sleek, jungle cat and tearing down the shore. She
loved to jog on the beach and did so early each morning, but
imagined the added feline strength could propel her a greater
distance, to the point where she felt she could soar.

What is it like, Caleb?
Maya?
Once in a while, if she got up early enough, she’d spot a
panther or wolf racing across her line of vision. Many of them
worked out the kinks of living as a shifter in an urban area here,
and Calla would watch with a twinge of envy. Sure, being a shifter
might not grant her superpowers beyond enhanced senses, and it
wouldn’t make her a better or more successful salon owner. Still,
to be different, special…

She closed her eyes. The
wineglass slipped from her hand and fell with a dull thud to the
grass. A tingling sensation in her belly radiated sparks that shot
through her limbs. She smiled, picturing handsome Caleb dressed to
the nines in a sharp, dark suit, checking his watch and all points
of entrance for her.

Her right hand came to
rest on her left breast and squeezed gently, rolling the nipple
between her fingers. Yes, she’d be late for the ball. Soon as she
took care of one last thing…

Arousal quickly morphed
into concern. She couldn’t move her legs.

She couldn’t move
any
part of her body. The tingling rapidly took over,
leaving her frozen and numb and very sensitive to the breeze. The
sensation overcoming her now, she likened to an all-encompassing
toothache, the kind that sliced through your brain the second cold
air hit an exposed nerve. Calla wanted to cry out but her throat
had dried, then closed, forcing her to breathe heavily through her
nose.

That’s when the change
started.

* * * *

“
Caleb. Good to see you
again.”

“
Likewise.” Caleb took Dr.
Wes Dillon’s hand in a firm shake. A fellow panther and friend
since high school, Wes looked very handsome in his charcoal suit
and with his blond hair slicked back. The expression on the man’s
face no doubt mirrored Caleb’s, and Caleb imagined they shared
similar thoughts about the ball. Why, for instance, could the
planning committee not acknowledge that August was too damn hot for
a formal event?

Looking around at the
others, Caleb noticed varying ranges of discomfort. “I’m giving
serious thought to taking over for next year,” he told Wes. “Beach
casual attire, Jimmy Buffett cover band, and more selections at the
open bar.”

“
I hear you.” Wes laughed.
“How about we get a beer to cool down?”

“
Lead the way.” The two
panthers cut across the crowded hotel ballroom, past many Bliss
residents Caleb knew by name or sight, and took their place in
line. “Hey, Wes,” he said, leaning closer to be heard over the
swing band, “I heard Aunt Sheila paid you a visit.”

“
I’m sorry to disappoint
you, buddy. Your aunt’s going to live a long, long
time.”

“
Cute. She seemed more
concerned about Calla Savitch’s good health.”

Wes colored beet red,
obvious even in the dim of the ballroom. For a moment a wave of
guilt ebbed in Caleb for having put his friend on the spot, but he
wanted to know for certain that Wes offered up a correct evaluation
of Calla. Of course, he couldn’t imagine why Aunt Sheila would make
up something like a recessive shifting gene…unless that was her way
of giving Caleb permission to pursue a relationship on his
terms.

“
Caleb,” Wes replied with
a nervous chuckle, “you know I can’t breach doctor-patient
confidentiality.”

“
You’ve done it before,
apparently.”

“
Shit.” Wes looked away,
rocking on his heels. Then, glancing around to ensure privacy, he
leaned close with a hissing whisper. “Your aunt can be very
persuasive, you know. She just wouldn’t let it go.”

“
I’m convinced she’s part
viper, too, but don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I only
wanted to confirm what you told her is true.”

“
Yeah.” Wes nodded. “It’s
not like it’s uncommon, though. For all the griping the elders do
about mixing, it happens. With Calla, she probably had a
great-great something who was a shifter and mated with a
human.”

“
It happens, like you
said.” Now at the front of the line, they ordered their drinks.
“Does having a recessive gene for shifting mean your children can
shift, though?”

Wes shook his head. “No,
and I told Sheila that. It’s like being recessive for
left-handedness or blue eyes. Calla has blue eyes and is
right-handed, so if she married a brown-eyed southpaw, there’s no
guarantee of a blue-eyed lefty spawn.”

“
And if she mates with a
shifter?”

Wes tipped the bartender
and they moved away, beers in hand. “Same deal. All of her children
might be able to shift, or none of them. It’s a dice roll.” They
stopped at the edge of the dance floor, and Wes leered at his
friend. “Why are you so interested?”

Caleb smiled. “What did my
aunt do to persuade you to breach—”

“
I’m going to go say hello
to Lorraine Winston,” Wes broke in, and hurried away as Caleb
enjoyed a hearty laugh.

Chapter Ten

From where she perched
behind a row of thick shrubbery dividing the hotel from the
shoreline, Calla could not only see the activity on the other side
of the wide glass doors, but she could
sense
everything. Ice
in rocks tumblers crashed against glass in a cacophonous symphony,
and even the most clandestine whisper between friends sharing a
secret sounded as though people conversed with bullhorns. Yet Calla
gritted her teeth—fangs—and continued her surveillance in her new
form, one she hadn’t realized she was capable of
achieving.

She looked down once
again, still in disbelief as she lifted a large panther paw and
turned it over and back again. How could she have lived so long
without knowing her true genetic makeup? Her mother, rest her soul,
had mentioned nothing about this, on either side of the family. Her
father had died when she was three, and she knew little of her
paternal heritage. Perhaps her mother had been kept in the dark as
well. For her protection? She’d never know, but at least she had
this truth.

It still didn’t explain,
though, why she’d just now discovered this ability to shift. Caleb
and other shifter friends had come into their full abilities at
puberty, so it stood to reason she should have as well, regardless
of whether or not she was aware of it. First thing tomorrow, she’d
schedule an appointment with Wes for a checkup, and
answers.

Hopefully her doctor could
guide her toward a proper orientation of this new form and show her
how to control her senses and prevent overload.

Caleb could,
too.

Calla snorted and trotted
a few paces away from the party. From the moment she realized her
ability to shift, her thoughts turned to Caleb and rushing over to
the Houlihan house to reveal herself. Discovering this so late in
her life brought on bittersweet feelings as she realized what might
have been. How much pain could have been avoided were it known
Calla was a panther?

Of course, would it have
guaranteed that Jim Houlihan and the others would have arranged for
her and Caleb to mate? They may still have paired him off with
Teresa and given her to somebody else—maybe Wes. Calla’s thoughts
drifted to her doctor and good friend, and her heart panged to
recall how his mate had betrayed him.

Padding back to the
shrubbery, Calla attempted to focus all of her energy on Caleb.
Maybe through this singular thought, she could pinpoint him and
block out the increasing white noise and scents. Crouched low
behind the bushes, she scanned the ballroom through a hole in the
leaves and found him with Wes, chatting.

Damn it
. His voice
jumbled with the rest, and unfortunately this shifting ability did
squat for her lip-reading skills.

Who the hell are
you?

Calla snorted again,
surprised by the clarity of the voice in her head. She ungainly
whirled around and tried not to collapse on seeing the wolf staring
back at her. Bent in what Calla assumed was an attack position, the
wolf bared glistening fangs and scruffed one white-socked paw in
the sand.

White socks?

Maya,
Calla
cautiously called out in her mind,
is that you?

The wolf hesitated, then
relaxed her stance.
What the fuck…Calla?

Yes!

A low whine emitted from
the wolf.
What…what the hell? I didn’t know you were a
panther.

That makes two of
us,
Calla said.
I’m guessing this isn’t something that
happens when you wish upon a star.

Oh, hell no.
Maya
trotted back and forth, as though appraising Calla.
Unless I’m
drunk, and I’m not, I have no other explanation. You obviously have
panther blood in you, girl.

Fat lot of good it does
me
. Calla rose to all fours and stretched.

What do you mean? Now
all your dreams of Caleb can come true.
Maya’s voice echoed
with consternation in her head.

Just because I’m a
panther doesn’t mean I’m going to beat a path to his door,
Maya,
Calla said. True, this made things easier if she chose to
pursue a relationship with Caleb again, but…

The wolf edged closer.
What’s on your mind, doll?

Calla watched the wolf,
swearing Maya grinned underneath all that fur.
How is it,
she asked,
that you managed to get this far in life without
being forced to mate?

The wolf tossed back her
head and let out a yip.
Well, for one, werewolves aren’t
endangered
, Maya said.
There’s no pressure for me to mate,
not with all the hungry she-wolves roaming about. Besides, I rather
like the single life. So many possibilities, as you already
know.

Right.
Calla tried
to picture rolling around with Maya while in their animal forms and
shuddered.
Why aren’t you at the party?

It’s boring, and I’m
not the only one who thinks so.
With that, Maya nodded her
snout toward the glass doors as one of them opened.

Calla turned, expecting to
see Caleb dart out to look for her. Instead his aunt stormed up the
patio, her face contorted with anger. Only one thing could inspire
such rage on this important night.