TOL2 Kiss of the Werewolf Read online

  TAO OF LOVE 2:

  KISS OF THE WEREWOLF

  Sedonia Guillone

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual situations and graphic language.

  Tao of Love 2: Kiss of the Werewolf

  Sedonia Guillone

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © November 2006 by Sedonia Guillone

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-277-6

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Ansley Velarde

  Cover Artist: Sinamin

  Chapter One

  A man with outward courage dares to die,

  A man with inward courage dares to live;

  But either of these men

  Has a better and a worse side than the other.

  And who can tell exactly to which qualities heaven objects?

  -- Lao Tzu

  Xiahe, Gansu Province, China, near Tibet

  The beast was freeing itself. The creature that had invaded his body and soul now scraped and clawed at his insides.

  Jie fought the change with every ounce of strength he possessed. In the three years since he’d been bitten, he’d managed to keep his hated alter-ego at bay. Tonight, the full moon’s light pulled at his soul with more force than ever, as if the universe itself were angry with him for the creature’s imprisonment.

  He exhaled, sinking his bent knees into a deeper meditative stance, his arms crossed in front of him at the wrists. He would stand all night in the wu chi position, if that’s what would center him. Whatever it took to ward off the ever-strengthening demand for transformation from man to ravening beast.

  He’d already pulled the shade tight and hidden in the corner where the moon’s light didn’t quite reach. Grievously, however, the woven grass shade over his window could never be thick enough to shield him from the silvery light whose rays seemed to penetrate his skin.

  A shot of burning pain seared his gut. He sucked in his breath, pivoted his upper body, and began circling his hands, making graceful arcs, one after the other. Releasing his chi had, until now, kept the beast at bay. Tai chi, the simple, graceful martial art form he’d mastered as a boy of eight, had been a savior many times in his life.

  The pain spread into his chest, fanning outward like evil wings. That deep gnawing hunger the beast carried began to gnaw at his belly. For the first time in three years, since he’d been bitten out on Sangke Prairie, tai chi was failing him. The beast was winning.

  Jie stepped out with his right foot, preparing for a bo stance. Before his heel touched down, another jolt of pain sent him toppling over.

  The flames of transformation spread down all four limbs and into his back, like fire through dead leaves. All he could do now was lie helpless until the process had completed itself.

  Slowly, he raised a trembling hand in front of his face, watching his nails sharpen and lengthen. Smooth ebony fur sprouted on the back of his hands and fingers. More was growing rapidly all over his body, forming a thick coat on his back, chest and thighs.

  He groaned, straining against the agony of change from human to wolf. The power of speech receded, leaving him able only to utter the sounds of the animal.

  An unearthly cry formed deep in his throat, his only release from the pain. His howl reverberated through the tiny cottage, swallowed up by the vast prairie of waving grasses and dry winds. To his horror, the sound emanated from his own elongated snout, past sharp incisors meant to rip apart his prey.

  His trousers slipped off as the beast’s slimmer musculature replaced his legs.

  After what seemed an eternity of torture, the pain and burning receded, leaving him limp, panting. When he’d caught his breath, he rolled over and lifted himself onto all fours, shaking himself vigorously, like a dog that’s just had a bath.

  The sudden smell of fresh meat assaulted his nostrils, aggravating his deep hunger. Licking his chops, he turned. Li Yun Po stood in the doorway, watching him, a large bowl of raw cubed beef in his hands.

  The old man’s gaze penetrated his. No smell of fear emanated from his godfather at all. Li had been a father and a teacher to Jie since he was a boy and his parents were professors living away all the time in Beijing. When Ming An and Tzu Chai were killed in Tiananmen Square, Li had been the one person in his life to whom Jie could turn.

  The only other person who knew his secret.

  Li bent over and set the bowl on the dirt floor. He rose up again and looked at Jie. “Here, my friend,” he said, his soft gentle voice carrying across the room. “I know how you feel about killing. I thought to save you that suffering.”

  The wolf growled defensively, but deep inside where Jie remained, he knew that Li had sacrificed much of his own comfort to pay for this food. His love for the old man deepened, the man who’d taught him tai chi so many years ago.

  Jie trotted over to the bowl and snapped up a cube of meat. The taste of the food unleashed his ravenous hunger and pure instinct overcame him. Mindlessly, he attacked the large pile, feeding wildly on his godfather’s kind offering.

  “That’s right, my dear friend,” Li said. “Feed now, and when your moon has passed, I have something important to tell you.”

  * * * * *

  Chinatown, Boston, Massachusetts

  “Do not fear the werewolf’s kiss.” Grandfather spoke in his quiet voice. The sound always reminded Megan of waves lapping the shore. His face hovered before her.

  A pang shot through her heart and she held her arms out to him, the way she had when she was a little girl. “I miss you so much, Lao ye,” she whispered. “It’s like death.” She leaned forward to embrace him, only to find her arms cutting through empty space.

  His face remained, however, smiling, the dark eyes looking at her with gentleness. She watched him, her hand out, trying to touch his graying beard.

  “I miss you too, granddaughter.” He smiled. “Do not fear the werewolf’s kiss.”

  “Who’s the werewolf, Lao ye?” Desperation to understand his words gripped her. Grandfather had been her teacher for so long, and she’d always struggled to understand everything he’d said. This time, she couldn’t. She tried to embrace him again, but his image began to fade.

  “Lao ye!” she cried.

  But Grandfather’s face dissolved, melting into the darkness from which it had come.

  Meg opened her eyes and gulped for air. She heaved several deep breaths before realizing she was in her bed. She grabbed fistfuls of her comforter, letting the soft material bring her into the present. Her heart s
till pumped as if she’d been running.

  Groping beside her, she found Fluffy and dragged the stuffed bear into her arms. Squeezing the bedraggled toy against her chest, she lay quietly, staring at the ceiling. She’d long ago given up feeling foolish for keeping Fluffy. Perhaps a woman almost thirty shouldn’t still have a teddy bear, but one day she’d thought about how Fluffy had been a gift from her parents just before they died. Fluffy was her last connection to them. After that, she couldn’t criticize herself for her attachment to him.

  Her dream still clung to her. She sighed, remembering Lao ye’s face and his words. Tightening her grip on Fluffy, she lay still, letting the pain wash through her. Lao ye had died six months ago, but to Meg, it still felt like yesterday. He’d been her best friend, her father and teacher. The only person who’d been there for her when her parents had disappeared. Her father’s parents had long ago disinherited him for having married a Chinese woman, and Grandfather had stood by his daughter and son-in-law. He’d been the one to break the news to her when their bodies had been found after the plane crash in the Brazilian jungle.

  At seventy-five, Lao ye had appeared to have at least ten more years in him. His heart had said differently. Of course, Meg had wished he would live forever.

  The full moon filtered through her bedroom curtains. Meg turned, letting the moonlight splash silver across her face. From the angle of her window, she could see the glowing orb in its entirety. It was getting ready to set and shone against the backdrop of the pre-dawn sky.

  Since it was almost time to get up anyway, Megan released Fluffy, set him aside, and got out of bed. She stood at the window for several minutes, watching the moon. She’d always loved looking at the moon. Something about it was mysterious and wondrous to her, drawing feelings from deep inside. This morning, however, it made her restless, sent a fluttering movement through her stomach. The moonlight must have shone on her during her sleep and mingled with her grief over her grandfather to produce that dream.

  Do not fear the werewolf’s kiss.

  Still, the words sent a strange shiver up her spine. More accurately, it was the word kiss that was affecting her. A kiss meant a man. It had been an incredibly long time since Ben. She’d thought she was madly in love with him, but when he got a job offer in San Francisco and wanted her to move with him, she couldn’t. She hadn’t wanted to leave Lao ye, especially when he was an old man and didn’t have anyone else to help run the market.

  Perhaps if she’d loved Ben enough, she would have gone. That’s what she always told herself to assuage her guilt.

  There hadn’t been anyone since Ben. Perhaps she’d been too afraid to get involved again. Perhaps she hadn’t met the ... one. She didn’t know.

  Her childhood friend, Danny, had helped her out for many years during school holidays and weekends, but after college graduation, he’d gone right to graduate work at MIT and hadn’t been as available. Since he’d met Dave, his soul mate, he also had less time.

  She watched the moon another few seconds, then sighed and turned. There was too much to do to be spending time at the window staring at the moon, remembering the past or worrying about the future. Like showering and having breakfast so she’d have time to run through her tai chi before opening the market. Like feeding Mei, who was now mewing loudly for her breakfast and emphasizing the plea by threading her fluffy white body in a path around and between Meg’s feet.

  “Sorry, Mei. Breakfast for you first.” She went to the small kitchen and opened a can of cat food. Mei’s hungry cries increased in volume as Meg spooned some food into the cat’s dish and set it on the floor. “There you go, sweetie.” When Mei was happily chowing down on her breakfast, Megan headed for the shower to start the day.

  When Grandfather was alive, they shared the burden of running the market. She’d even had time to give evening tai chi lessons in the studio after Grandfather had gotten too tired to teach. Now he was gone. She was running the store by herself, not knowing anyone else she trusted enough to help her except for Danny. Danny was qualified to teach the classes, but he’d just earned his doctorate in computer science and was teaching summer school. His partner, Dave, was also willing to teach self-defense classes, but he was taking summer classes to begin his master’s degree in social work. They were both very busy.

  If she hadn’t been so attached to the place and to the neighbors who depended on her, she might have considered the Boston Development Corporation’s offer to buy, which they kept pressuring her about. Sometimes, the temptation to sell was almost overwhelming, especially since business was threatened by the new Asian supermarket chain that had recently opened ten miles away.

  But she wasn’t giving up on her grandfather’s life’s work so easily. He’d loved the children in the neighborhood and gave the older kids tai chi lessons during the summer months when the inner city was boring for them. She intended to resume them as soon as she got on her feet. And so she’d keep going, with or without someone to help her.

  Chapter Two

  The sun had set again the next evening before Jie could move again. After devouring the bowl of meat his godfather had given him, he’d spent the night roaming the grassy plain, allowing the compelling moonlight to pull long, plaintive howls from deep inside his being. At the first hints of dawn, he’d returned to the safety of Li’s hut. After the change back into human form, he’d just had enough energy to crawl into his bed and pull the covers up to his chest.

  Li must have come in and raised the blind on the window, allowing the dry wind to penetrate Jie’s small room. His godfather had also turned on the small lamp on his bedside table.

  Jie rolled onto his back and stared out through the window. The change back had been as excruciating as the change to beast, and his entire body felt as if it had been mercilessly stretched on a rack until near breaking, only to be stretched again and again, like some medieval form of torture.

  A footfall sounded in the doorway. Jie slowly turned his head toward the noise. The sight of Li holding a tray with a steaming pot of tea comforted him. Since Jie was a boy, whenever he’d fallen ill, Li had done the same thing. “Thank you, Li sifu.” Jie winced at the way his voice rasped out harshly as if he were just learning how to speak.

  Li carried the tray to his bedside and set it on the nightstand. He leaned over and helped Jie to sit up, always surprising Jie with the strength of his seventy-five-year-old frame.

  When Jie was leaning back more comfortably against the pillow, Li poured a cup of the tea and held it to his godson’s lips. The old man’s touch alone was healing, giving Jie the strength to lift his hands and take a long sip of tea, knowing Li had let it cool just enough before serving it.

  Jie emptied the cup and lay back, exhaling a long breath. Just drinking from a cup had tired him. If he no longer had the inner strength to hold back the change, was he to endure this torture month after month, year after year?

  Li took the cup from him and set it on the tray before lowering himself to perch on the edge of the mattress. He looked at Jie, his thoughts practically transparent in his clear brown eyes. The old man’s expression shifted, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. “Sometimes healing does not mean a cure, Jie. You’re a doctor. You know that.”

  Jie nodded. “I do know.” He sat quietly, returning Li’s steady gaze, understanding also the kindness behind his words. “Does this have to do with what you have to tell me?”

  Li nodded. A faraway look came into his eyes. “In Tibet, the rinpoches and lamas are found using the stars.”

  Jie furrowed his brow. Li had told him this many years ago when he’d taken him to see the nearby Labrang monastery. It was the most important Buddhist temple in Tibet, next to the Potala, where His Holiness the Dalai Lama had resided before he was forced to flee the Communist regime. Thankfully, it was one of the few monasteries the Chinese government had let stand, intact.

  A moment of concern for Li’s mental health weighed on him. Why was the old man telling him some
thing he already knew?

  “The stars will tell anyone his destiny. Anyone who asks,” Li said.

  Jie sighed in relief. Li was an expert astrologist. “Have you asked the stars something?”

  His godfather nodded again. “I’ve been worried for you, my son. I needed to know your destiny.”

  Jiu experienced a wave of self-pity, something he’d been vulnerable to since the days when his parents would leave him with Li for long periods of time while they taught in Beijing. Since he’d been bitten, Jie already had a sense of his destiny, to fight off the curse of transformation from man to beast each month. He felt a newfound respect for women’s suffering, for what it was like for them, knowing that each month they would bleed. Month after month. Year after year.

  Only his was a lifetime curse that didn’t end after a certain age. He strained against succumbing to the crippling emotion of self-pity, if only out of respect for his teacher.

  “Jie, there is a woman for you.” Li’s soft voice cut into Jie’s thoughts.

  Jie looked up. A woman. The mere word sent sparks of energy into his limbs. To his chagrin, his groin tightened, as if imbued with a life of its own. He hadn’t been with a woman since Su Lin had divorced him. With the exception of the female patients he treated, he’d stayed away from women after that painful breakup. His heart couldn’t have borne another woman growing to detest him because of his sympathy for the Tibetan people, and he’d dealt with loneliness by throwing himself into his medical practice. That is, until he’d been bitten out on the prairie three years ago and had gone into hiding in his boyhood home.

  “She is meant for you, Jie.”

  He looked at Li. “How could that be, sifu? How could a woman know about ... my curse ... and want me?”

  “The stars don’t lie, son. We lie to ourselves.”