Full Moon Madness

"Don't go 'round tonight

It's bound to take your life

There's a bad moon on the rise"

-Creedence Clearwater Revival

***

Lavinia's eyes dropped from the mirror and she couldn't help looking at the newspaper headline blaring at her from the top of the bureau:

"'WEREWOLF' STRIKES AGAIN!"

She stopped what she was doing long enough drop the paper into the trash, holding it with two fingertips. It was a month old; Ray was always leaving old papers around for weeks.

The voices of the evening news filtered through the tinny TV speakers in the next room as she continued getting ready:

"...curfew in effect, as police warn residents no to leave their homes during tonight's full moon. Joining us now is Kate Corrigan, professor of folklore at UCB. Now professor, you don't really believe this werewolf talk, do you?"

"Arthur Conan Doyle said that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains must be the truth. No ordinary human being can do to a body what this killer does, and no ordinary animal could get in and out of the victim's homes without a trace. What conclusion must we reach?"

Lavinia applied her lipstick slowly and deliberately.

The newscaster said, "But in this day and age—"

"That's precisely the point: The belief that malevolent human beings can assume the shapes of animals is contemporary to EVERY age. Fear of the werewolf in particular dates to antiquity. We may not want to admit that such things still happen, but we can't deny the evidence."

Lavinia snapped the clasp on her double chain of pearls, then straightened them in the mirror.

"What can people do keep themselves safe tonight?"

"First and foremost: Don't leave the house. Even though the werewolf has gone after victims still in their homes before, it's much more likely that it will first try to pick off those who expose themselves by going outside after curfew. Most importantly—"

Lavinia turned the TV off. Then she put her keys in her purse and slipped her heels on. Finally she dialed the phone, chewing her lip as she counted the rings and waited for an answer. When the click on the other end came she felt a rush of relief.

"It's me," she said, whispering. "Are you alone? Yes, I—look, I'm coming to see you. Right now."

Her heels clicked on the floorboards as she went to crack the Venetian blinds. Nothing moved outside, but a taxi cab idled at the corner.

"Don't tell me no, I have to see you," she continued. "I'll go crazy if I wait even one more day, and Ray is only gone for tonight. It's got to be now."

She paused, listening, then, "I know it's a full moon, but I don't care about that. And the curfew doesn't start for another hour anyway. I'll take a cab, it'll be perfectly safe."

And then she rushed to get out the next part before she could be cut off:

"Please don't argue. I...I need this. And I know you've been missing me too, right? The streets are lousy with cops, so nothing can happen to me on the way over. Just wait and I'll be there soon."

The blinds clicked as she let them shut again.

"I love you too," Lavinia said. "Bye for now."

After hanging up, she double checked the locks on all of the windows and doors, then paused with keys in hand, listening for the faintest hint of anything...but it was all utterly silent.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hall and shut the front door behind her. Lavinia walked down the dim hallway to the elevator as fast as she could. The peephole on every door felt like a spying eye watching her.

There probably WERE some neighbors eyeballing her curiously, wondering who would dare go out on the streets after dark with a killer on the loose?

Let them wonder, Lavinia thought, getting into the old elevator and punching one of the brass buttons. It jolted and groaned and lurched down to deposit her in the lobby with a ding, and the next thing she knew she was out on the ink-black street.

The full moon peeked from between high-rises but from here looked no bigger or brighter than the street lamps overhead. The taxi she'd spotted still crouched on the corner; normally this block would be full of people, but now even the vagrants had gone to seek shelter indoors, leaving only a few cautious cars poking along, trying to make it home on time.

The cab's light was off, but when Lavinia raised a hand it snarled to life and crept up to her. The door popped open for her automatically, a surprising feature in such an old looking car; the interior smelled crisp as she settled into the backseat and crossed her legs.

"Reynolds Street, please," she said.

The cab pulled away from the curb with its engine humming. The radio was on: "...in and out of homes so easily, Karen?"

"Werewolf lore and legend ascribes a great many powers to the monster. Passing physical barriers is unusual but not unheard of. In Chinese provinces..."

The driver turned it off. She was a woman about Lavinia's age, although Lavinia couldn't see much of her except for the back of her head, with all of its thick hair standing out, and a sharp pair of eyes in the rearview mirror, with two broad, dark eyelashes above them in an arch, so big and expressive that they nearly met.

"You're lucky I was still here," the driver said, looking at her. "I've never seen such a dead night. Is that in poor taste, 'dead night'?"

"Maybe," said Lavinia. "But I'll never tell."

The driver laughed, and Lavinia caught sight of her shiny white teeth. "I'm Elizabeth," she said.

"Charmed."

"You're out awfully late. Under the circumstances, I mean. Running home to beat the curfew?"

None of your business Lavinia wanted to say.

But she scolded herself; after all, the woman was just trying to make conversation. Besides, being standoffish was suspicious...

"Actually I'm just leaving home. I have plans tonight, and I'm not about to break them over some silly curfew."

Elizabeth made a throaty sound of approval. "I like a woman who lives dangerously. Keeps everything more interesting for the rest of us."

"Nothing dangerous going on. Just taking a drive to see...friends."

Lavinia watched the street signs and the traffic lights flicker past one by one: Brandner, Crowe, Housman...

"So you don't care about the curfew, but what about the werewolf?" Elizabeth said, drawing the word out.

The cab sped up a little bit, its engine stirring as she pressed the pedal. The sound of jewelry rising and falling punctuated Lavinia's shrug.

"There's no such thing," she said.

"But on the news—"

"Bullshit," Lavinia said. She kept herself perfectly upright as they turned, Elizabeth not even bothering to slow at the corner because there wasn't a single other car driving. Every fourth thing they passed appeared to be a cop car, but none of them made a move to stop the cab.

"I'm sick of hearing about it," Lavinia continued, letting her voice steep in the anger she nestled deep in her bosom. "It's practically all anyone talks about anymore: 'The werewolf,' 'the werewolf,' 'the werewolf.' Bullshit."

"What makes you so certain that it's bullshit?" Elizabeth's tone was hard to place, but Lavinia couldn't shake the feeling that the other woman was making fun of her somehow. She chided herself for being paranoid.

"It's obvious," she said. "Only a child would believe a story like that. A child or an idiot."

"The police believe it. I hear they're all spending half of their pay on silver bullets. And they travel four to a car now, for safety."

"Police are stupid and crude," said Lavinia. "I was married to a police detective once; he believed anything I told him."

She checked the time. It had been 40 minutes already since the phone call, but it felt like much more than that. Elizabeth was already speeding, but Lavinia wanted her to go faster. She wanted the cab to grow wings and fly. Instead it just swerved to drive around a shape—a garbage bag—in the lane.

"Of course you're right," Elizabeth said, looking at her in the rearview mirror again. "I don't believe in werewolves either. But the murders are real, aren't they?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth, checking her reflection in a compact. "But they don't worry me."

"Why not?"

"I'm just not the sort to worry. Why are we stopped?"

"It's a red light."

"Keep going anyway, no one's around."

"There's still a camera, though, I'll get a ticket. Hey."

Suddenly Elizabeth twisted around in the driver seat fully, and Lavinia saw the woman's face for the first time: pointed, eager, probing, like the cab driver was sizing her up.

It was just the two of them in the little car, and something about that look was too aggressive for comfort, coming as it did all of a sudden, and with only a foot between them...

All at once Lavinia became afraid. I'm here alone with a crazy person, she realized as he looked into the whites of those strange eyes. This woman is out of her mind and there's nobody around to see whatever she does next. Even the cops on the street are too scared to so much a get out of their cars. Her breath caught in her throat

She tried to reach for the door handle, imagining herself fumbling it open and darting out into the street, but her hands refused to move. Instead she just flinched inside and waited to see what would happen. Any second now, she was sure, the cabbie would do something crazy: scream or laugh or just grab her and then do who knows what next...

But nothing happened. Elizabeth just relaxed and turned around again without explanation, and when the light turned green they sped on.

Lavinia put a hand to her chest and forced herself to take deep breaths until her heart stopped racing. She felt dizzy and confused. After a few more blocks the cab driver spoke up:

"I'm sorry about that. For a second I thought...look, I know this is really crazy, but with you acting all not afraid of nothing, and then just that casual way you talked about the killings, like they just didn't bother you one bit...well, I got scared, you know?"

Lavinia saw the other woman's brow knit in the mirror for a moment. She continued, "It's silly, but for a second I really thought...anyway, never mind what I really thought. I just freaked out on you is all. Sorry."

Blinking, it took Lavinia a moment to grasp what she'd heard. When she did she almost slapped her face in embarrassment; it hadn't been menace she'd seen in the cab driver's face, it had been fear. In her own paranoia, she had mistaken Elizabeth's moment of panic as a threat.

"No need to apologize," Lavinia said, once the tightness dropped out of her chest. "A woman's got to watch her back these days. Why are you still out driving anyway?"

"It gets me out of the house. If I stay home I have to deal with my husband."

They laughed together.

"I know that feeling. Mine's out of town tonight. Work called him away."

"He left you alone with a murderer loose? Asshole!"

"I wouldn't want him sitting around and minding me like a mother hen anyway." said Lavinia. I guess it's like you said: I'm really not afraid. To be honest, I forget that most people are."

They came to Reynolds Street, and the cab stopped. As Lavinia reached for the door with one hand and passed a handful of bills up to the driver's seat with the other Elizabeth said, "I hope whatever's up tonight is worth the harrowing ride."

"For you too," Lavinia said, then got out.

She wanted to say more—to thank the other woman, perhaps, or to share another comment about solidarity, but the words didn't seem to want to come, so instead she just got out of the car, and immediately realized that just in the time the ride had taken it was suddenly colder and darker all over the city than she remembered it being in a long time, and she shivered.

The cab's taillights glowed like two red eyes all the way down the block before it turned away. Lavinia looked around: The gloomy old gothic spire of St Dominic's reared up on her left. She hated that building. Weren't churches supposed to make people feel safe, she thought? This one just made her feel watched...

The apartment building next to the church was square and flat topped, but an antenna on the roof split the face of the full moon in half. Lavinia almost went to the front door but reminded herself to go around the back and take the stairs instead of the elevator, so no one would see.

She clunked up the eight flights of echoing stairs. As she climbed, she sang under her breath:

"Yesterday upon the stair,

I met a man who wasn't there.

He wasn't there again today,

I wish, I wish, he'd go away..."

Apartment 8B. She tapped on the door with the tips of two fingers and held her breath. There were fewer doors with fewer spying eyes in this building than in her own, but she still wanted to be inside as fast as possible. Please open, she thought. If there is a god, open up now...

The door opened. Lavinia darted in and the door slipped shut again. Then Lavinia breathed deep, drawing in the feeling of relief, almost laughing. The clock said that it was nine; she'd made it with time to spare.

Turning, she presented her best and widest smile. But before she could say anything Helen walked right up and slapped her in the face.

It wasn't hard—Lavinia had almost tapped on the door with more force—but the surprise sent her rocking backward.

Helen glowed red with fury. "What the HELL do you think you were doing?" she said.

She stood with her arms straight at her side, as if they were flat things nailed to her body, and her every breath raised her shoulders into two sharp shapes as they went up and down. Righting herself, Lavinia felt anger rise like the scream of a boiling kettle, but she pushed it away.

Instead she fixed another smile on her face, much smaller than the first one, and said, "It's wonderful to see you too."

Helen crossed her arms. "Don't give me that. Coming all the way out here tonight of all nights, with all of the things they're saying on the news? Do you know how worried I've been? I've never met someone so selfish and so impulsive and so thoughtless and—"

"Isn't that what you love about me?" Lavinia said, taking her long gloves off and laying them on the back of a chair.

Helen's apartment was not so big, but it was tastefully decorated, with a minimalist touch that Lavinia admired in a woman so young. She slipped her stole off to reveal her bare shoulders, her dress, her jewelry, the works, and draped it across the marble coffee table, then sat on the white couch and crossed her legs at precisely the right degree before looking at Helen again.

"If I wasn't thoughtless and impulsive we'd never even have met," she said. "Is that what you want?"

Helen froze like she'd just been hit with a spotlight. The red in her cheeks remained, but now dialed down from fury to something else.

"That was different..." she said, but without force. Lavinia shook her head.

"You only thought it was different. But I can't ever be any different than this; what's that expression, 'the nature of the beast?' There's no turning me on and off whenever it's convenient, Helen. I'm all me all the time; can you deal with that?"

Going over to where Helen was still camped out near the door, Lavinia put her arms around the other woman's neck.

"I'm sorry I worried you. But you can see that I couldn't stay away. I'd go insane if we waited any longer. I wish it had been some other night, but I made it here safe and sound just like I promised, didn't I?"

"Well..." said Helen, and her posture shifted, leaning into Lavinia and putting one hand on her waist.

"I'll make it up to you, of course," Lavinia said. "Just let me try?"

She paused while going in for the kiss, as if asking permission, and then pressed her red lips against the other woman's until Helen, initially stiff, melted into it, and they stayed in one embrace for a long time before coming up red faced and smiling together. Lavinia kissed the back of Helen's hand.

"I'd murder for a drink," Lavinia said.

"There's one already waiting for you in the wet bar. Where is Ray tonight?"

"Out of town. Emergency meeting with a client in Reno. Or was it Sacramento? Doesn't matter. His return flight is due early tomorrow. Just enough time for us."

Their lips brushed one another's softly at first, but then Helen leaned more into Lavinia and soon they were in each other's arms, lips parted, tongues tangled. The humid night air clung to them.

"The bedroom," Helen said between kisses, but Lavinia pulled her closer on the couch.

"Forget it," she said. "Right here is fine. Just take me."

They started fast, and before Lavinia could catch her breath Helen pushed Lavinia's hand between her legs. Lavinia moved on top of her, running other hand along the lines of Helen's body. Her skin was hot under the thin fabric of her dress. Their lips met again, dancing, and then Helen pulled back, teasing a little, nipping her lower lip.

Lavinia felt Helen's perky breasts under her dress, barely concealed. Helen growled a little, and at her encouragement Lavinia's touch became harder, more insistent, and eventually even rough. Their bodies ground against one another. The apartment became hot around them, like an oven.

Helen pushed Lavinia's hand lower, glancing against the inside of her thighs. Helen whimpered in her ear. Then Lavinia paused for a moment. "You little minx," she said. "You're not wearing a thing under this."

Blushing slightly, Helen said, "So?"

"You must not have been all THAT worried about me, if you had time to get ready." She pressed harder and felt wetness. Her pulse went into overdrive.

Lavinia kissed Helen's neck, her tongue lapping at the soft curves of flesh while her fingers moved up, rubbing the inside of Helen's thighs and then touching her in the spot that made Helen gasp and tremble.

Helen wriggled her ass against the couch and bit her lip, moaning under her breath: "More, please..."

Helen's arms wrapped around Lavinia's waist, hands caressing her hips and then grabbing her ass with both hands, pulling them into one another.

"More, please," she said again.

Lavinia slid one finger inside, then two, and Helen went wild, thrashing her head back and forth. "Oh god!" she said. Lavinia pushed them all the way in and then twisted them, once, and Helen cried out "Oh God!" again.

"More?" said Lavinia. Helen nodded. Lavinia pushed up, and Helen's body jerked, and they writhed together, and then she did it again, and her other fingers splayed on the outside of Helen's sex and touched her at the most sensitive spot on top, and Lavinia thought that Helen's body might break apart with shaking.

Helen's lips found Lavinia's again, and then they were on her neck. Helen's hands moved up Lavinia's body, pushing her away just a little so that she could feel Lavinia's breasts through her dress, thumbs glancing over erect nipples.

"Help me get out of this thing," she said, feeling ridiculously overdressed. They thrashed for a moment, discarding garments and leaving them strewn across the living room. When they were done Helen's hands reached around and cupped Lavinia's ass, squeezing. She was whispering over and over:

"Take me. Take me..."

Lavinia stuck her fingers back in and twisted her wrist, turning her hand over. Helen screamed. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck....again!" Lavinia did it again and Helen screamed herself ragged.

They were sweating together now, and Lavinia's head spun around and around. She kissed Helen in an attempt to smother the other woman's rising screams. Helen, out of control, clawed at her and bit her and, reaching a point where she couldn't speak, signaled to Lavinia to stop by beating her on the shoulder with one little fist, over and over, as her body jerked and twitched, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a constant, silent scream.