Once a Wolf

When Geoff awoke, she was gone. He didn't exactly

panic

, but he was concerned. Had he mucked it up with her

that

badly, that she didn't even want to be around him? What had set her off in the first place? They hadn't really done

anything

but kiss and cuddle. Why was it affecting him this way, anyway? It wasn't as though he were starved for female attention in his life, but

this

one....

She was everything the others were not; smart, strong, tough, assertive, self-reliant, intuitive, yet still charming, coquettish, and amazingly, surreally feminine. She was vulnerable, very human, too, as she had displayed so eloquently the night before. If only he could figure out what was going through her head.... He hated to admit she had gotten to him, fast and hard, gotten under his skin. Whatever happened between them from now on, he didn't want her to think badly of him, although he couldn't figure out why she thought badly of him in the first place.

He had no idea where she could have gotten off to and didn't fancy going to look for her by himself. The memory of yesterday was still fresh in his mind.

She

might have been confident the ants – and he was certain there had been more than one of the monsters – would be gone, but

he

was not. The thought of running into another –

alone -

was not high on his "to do" list. Perhaps he should just stay here a bit and see if she comes ba....

He heard the sound. It was faint; he couldn't quite make out what it was. His eyes strayed to the corner. Her sword was there, where she had left it the night before. That seemed damn peculiar. He didn't know her that well yet, but it was his impression she would no more leave without her sword than without her clothes. There was that sound again! He couldn't get a clear read on it, but it seemed to be coming from... one of the passages at the rear of the cave. Then, the thought occurred to him.

God, Giselle! She wasn't in trouble, was she?

All he could picture was one of those six-legged monsters grabbing her in its mandibles and dragging her back into the far reaches of the cave – while

he

had slumbered on in blissful ignorance.

He was moving then –

fast

. He snatched up the sword and made for the rear passage, stopping at intervals to listen and get his bearings. He had expected the cave to get darker the further into it he went. That was not the case. The rock walls were laced with minerals that appeared to have a natural luminescence to them. It was an eerie twilight, but a visible one. Once his eyes adjusted, he made his way quickly.

At last, he was able to make out the nature of the sound;

splashing.

A couple more quick turns, through otherwise empty chambers, around a corner and – he could not believe his own eyes. There, spread out before him, was... a

grotto;

a deep, subterranean pool, fed by a waterfall off to one side. The entrance to the grotto was at the top of a flight of stone stairs, seemingly formed by eons of natural erosion. The stairs curved downward to water level – actually, below it, like a swimming pool. The walls of the grotto were heavily infiltrated with the luminous minerals, above and below the waterline. The chamber was an oasis; a little piece of Paradise in the middle of nowhere.

Fittingly, Giselle was there; her lush, womanly body glided gracefully through the water. She approached the bottom of the stairs and began her ascent. Glancing up, she beheld him, standing at the top of the stairs – and just kept stepping. As she rose from the water, it became readily apparent she hadn't a stitch of clothing on. If she was at all embarrassed about revealing herself to him, she gave not the slightest clue. With that lush, curvaceous body, he thought, she had nothing to be embarrassed about. He descended the stairs, meeting her halfway. She noted the sword in his hands, then just looked up at him – and smiled. Dear God, she was beautiful, standing there like that! He thought his heart would burst.

"First," she asserted, "thank you for coming to my rescue. Since I am not in need of it

this

time, might I take a rain check?"

His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything to say to put the trauma of the previous night behind them. Before he could say anything, she glanced down, towards the far side of the step he was standing on. He looked down, seeing...

two plush towels

sitting there! He looked at her quizzically. She smiled. His heart skipped a beat at that.

"They are a gift from the Arcturans – along with a few other little goodies I 'requisitioned'," Giselle revealed. "Sorry; no new weapons yet. I don't know about you, but I am grateful to be able to get cleaned up. I found this..."

She swept her hand in an arc, indicating the grotto.

"...early this morning. Isn't it exquisite? It is

exactly

what I needed to feel better about myself. A shower and a swim, and I feel like a whole new woman, so to speak. However, I really

would

like to dry off now, so...."

Rather than stand there, looking like a complete idiot, he put down the sword, snatched up a towel, unfurled it, and held it up. She turned appreciatively and allowed him to wrap her in it, patting her dry in the process.

She turned back to face him. She raised her left hand and rested it softly on his cheek.

"I apologize for last night," the woman offered. "I want you to know that whatever you

think

happened, it was

not your fault.

I'm not ready to talk about it just yet, but we

will

talk; I promise you that."

Her hand had moved from his cheek to his chest. He felt her warmth against his own. His heart hammered madly in his chest. His

other

reaction was the obvious one. She glanced down, smiling mischievously.

"Here. You'll need this," the blonde observed.

He accepted from her the clear plastic bottle with the green and white label.

"Dr. Bronner's 18-in-1 Hemp Almond Pure-Castile...

Soap?

" he queried.

She smiled, nodded – and pushed. Geoff flew off the staircase, into the pool. He surfaced, shaking his head.

"You

really

needed a bath, Tiger," Giselle avowed. "First, lose the clothes. Don't be modest; I've already 'shown you mine'. The soap is concentrated; a little goes a long way. Use the ledge under the stairs. Rinse off under the waterfall. Take a swim after, if you wish. I found it really refreshing."

She sat there, on the step, watching him with a bemused smile on her lips. Geoff felt self-conscious and elated at the same time as he shed his dirty, smelly clothing. He couldn't remember a better, more joyful morning in a long, long time.

The grotto was a study in contrasts, just as was the woman who had introduced him to it. The ledge she had alluded to actually ran from the base of the stairs, around the curve of the chamber and behind the waterfall. There was a smaller pool in a recessed area behind the waterfall, surrounded by rock and separate from the main pool. The waterfall and main pool's waters were warm, yet the hidden pool was icy-cold. Perhaps there was a separate source feeding the smaller pool, or none at all; the still waters stood apart from the rest in their cold stone 'refrigerator'. Either way, Geoff was amazed with this natural spa.

He soaped, rinsed off, and swam, relishing the warming waters. All the while, he tried not to make it obvious that he was watching Giselle out of his peripheral vision. He could not get enough of the sight of her.

She

was making no bones about watching

him

! Perhaps

she

wasn't making any bones, but

he

was. He was embarrassed to step out of the water in that condition, but

it

wasn't going anywhere and

they

had to. There was only one thing to do....

He made his way back to the waterfall and stepped into the icy pool. Almost immediately, he spied a glint beneath the surface. It was a metal cylinder, perhaps two feet in length and eight inches in diameter. He looked up in puzzlement. Giselle caught his eye immediately. He read the warning expression on her face. She briefly cast her eyes upward, which he took to be a reference to 'eyes watching from above'. He nodded his understanding, then dove into the main pool and swam to the bottom of the steps.

Giselle awaited him at mid-step, towel in hand, as he had earlier for her. Despite his recent icy plunge, the sight of her standing nude before him awoke his 'friend' yet again. She was decent about it. She kept her eyes on his as he mounted the steps – but she

was

smiling a notch more than before. She patted him dry, as he had done for her. She spun him around – and they were face-to-face, and very close. His 'friend' was being particularly naughty, poking into places it oughtn't. She didn't object, didn't shy away, nor did she encourage him to go further. She just stood there, looking into his eyes, as if trying to decide exactly what her reaction

should

be. She settled on one, and voiced it.

"I want to thank you for a lovely

first date,

" she asserted. "I really can't remember when I've had a more enjoyable time."

She smiled alluringly. Then, she picked up her sword, turned and headed up the stairs. He followed, lost for words.

The chamber just before the grotto wasn't as empty as he had first surmised. There were two piles of clothing: standard-issue military camouflage fatigues, desert pattern, with "Sally Mae" utility harness, canteens, soft, floppy-brimmed hats, underwear, sox, and boots. He pulled his head back and looked at her askance. Giselle smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"I figured if we were going to play 'soldier' we should at least look the part. I guessed at your sizes. It should be pretty close."

Somehow, he felt this woman was not

playing

'soldier'. How did the Yanks put it? She was the "real deal". Did their armed forces now have female combat troops serving on the line? And who had taught her to wield a sword that way? Certainly not the American Army, nor any army he knew of. She hadn't said anything about it, nor would he ask her. The Arcturans were watching, and after what she had told him about the parameters they established for their 'contestants', it would be something best left unsaid.

A thought occurred to him then.

How much

were they watching? Were they only interested in the actual combat, or did they digest

everything?

He remembered the interlude in the grotto, her silent visual reference to their 'audience'. Were they watching

even then?

Given the situation, he had no reason to believe otherwise. The Arcturans apparently regarded them as little more than lab rats. If that thought had occurred to Giselle the night before, her reaction, then and now, suddenly made more sense. Once again, he felt slow on the uptake. As for her being "close" on guessing his sizes, he discovered she had been spot-on. She gazed at him approvingly from head to toe.

"I do so adore a man in uniform."

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. He held her there, against him, for a moment. She stiffened briefly, until she realized he wanted nothing more than that. Then, she relaxed and melted against him. He put his lips to her ear, as though he was nuzzling it.

"What is in the cylinder in the grotto?"

She nuzzled his ear in return.

"That, My Dear, is a little piece of the most destructive force known to Humankind."

He simply stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief. Although he knew little of this woman, he was not prepared to doubt even this.

They shared that brief intimacy before having to return to their roles as 'professionals'. In truth, he wanted

much

more, wanted to

ask

more. He wisely kept his mouth shut. She had already given every indication she was still interested – and that when she was ready to talk, she would do so. He chose to believe the previous night had not been a mistake; just ill-timed.

The American military-issue

MRE

("Meal, Ready to Eat") had been a luxury he had not expected. It was even self-heating! Then again, he hadn't expected any of this – or her. This was like

nothing

he had ever expected in his life – for stakes he had never expected to face. He hoped he was up to the task. Above all else, he hoped that, if the time came when she needed him, he would not fail her.

After policing their trash, he recovered his belt knife. She had him practice a bit more with his sword and knife movements, concentrating more at that point on fluidity of motion than speed. After a good workout, they donned polarized dark amber goggles to ward off the bright sunlight and set out on their morning patrol.

To Giselle, this was to be a simple reconnaissance mission. They still needed more information about the Golganthans. Where were they? What were they up to? What kind of weapons did they use? What tactics would they employ? How did they

think?

She didn't expect to learn much, if anything about their Arcturan 'hosts', but she would be receptive to any information she might glean.

They climbed an embankment, Geoff in the lead. He reached down to help her up. She flashed an appreciative smile. They just stood there a moment, him holding her hand. Neither made a move to release the clasp. After a bit, they just turned and resumed walking. Even Geoff knew there was nothing 'professional' about this, but it was an open space and they would be able to see danger well before it presented itself.

"Giselle?"

"Yes?"

"Yesterday, I mean, the ant...."

"We've already been through this."

"No, not that. I froze. I didn't know what to do. I didn't even have time to

think

about what to do."

"That's the nature of this business, Geoffrey. If you have to think about it, you're dead."

"That worries me. I mean, I'm here and all. If I'm not to muck things up all the time, I'll need to learn how to stay alive at the least. I would

like

to be a help, not a hindrance. I've had some firearms training, and some martial arts, but nothing for a situation like this. I mean, what would I do if I had to defend myself

right now

?"

Giselle raised one eyebrow, glanced down at their clasped hands, and smiled bemusedly. Her response was pure jocular American.

"Boy, you must be a

real

fun date."

He blushed beet red.

"You know what I mean."

Giselle smiled, adding her other hand to encompass his.

"Sorry, couldn't resist. All right, if I were to suddenly get this uncontrollable urge to

molest

you, I suppose you would just have to... turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yes. Turn around."

With that, the blonde pivoted on the ball of her foot, turning to the inside of their clasped hands. She trapped his hand firmly within her own, holding his arm close. She twisted outward and down with her arms, using his elbow as a pivot point. Geoff cartwheeled through the air, landing on his upper back with a

thump.

The wind was knocked from him. He lay there for a moment, looking up. In a moment, he collected air and wits.

"I see."

Giselle giggled and helped him to his feet. He glared at her with mock ferocity.

"You

enjoyed

that, didn't you?", he growled.

His companion smirked.

"Rather. It isn't often I get a really good-looking guy to fall for me."

He softened his glance.

"I doubt that very much. I can't imagine a man who

wouldn't

take a tumble for you."

Her smile faded just a bit.

"Not as many as you might believe. There really hasn't been time for it. Besides..."

She placed her hand on his cheek.

"... I'm choosey."

He rather liked the sound of that.

Geoff stumbled upon it as he scouted an outcropping of rock. He had been momentarily struck dumb in terror, then shouted out her name as he drew his knife. Giselle had come on the run, sword at the ready. When they determined it was no longer a threat, they relaxed and examined the carcass.

This one

had

been a 'major worker'. It spanned some fifteen feet in length. There had been nothing of Giselle's surgical precision in this kill. The beast had been deliberately, systematically hacked to death. It was apparent from the severity of the damage that great strength had been employed. That was consistent with what Giselle already knew about the Golganthans. This information was revealing in what to expect from their adversaries. It also gave them one other important piece of information:

Human

challenges could just as easily become Golganthan challenges. Conversely, an ordeal intended for the

Golganthans

....

There was something else about the carcass that troubled her. The kill was old – along the same timeframe as her own. Most of the damage had been to the head and upper thorax, as it should be; that was where the mortal blows had been struck. But there was a section of the gaster that was

also

incised. This one did not resemble the type of wound inflicted in the heat of combat. More time had been taken, more care.

That didn't make sense. The stinger was back there, and the sting from a fire ant

this

size was certain to be lethal – even for the Golganthans. If they were attacking the stinger outright, fine - but it hadn't been touched. Why even put yourself in

range

of being stung? Unless... the gaster wound had been inflicted

post-mortem.

That made a

little

more sense, but what would be the purpose of cutting into a dead ant's abdomen? Suddenly, she realized the incision hadn't just been inflicted post-mortem; it was

fresh!

The first boulder missed them by inches. The second, larger one, following immediately in the wake of the first, would have crushed them both – had they still been in the same spot. At that moment they were encircling the outcropping in opposite directions, looking for a way up.

Geoff's first view of a Golganthan was, in fact, the business end of a Golganthan fighting dagger. It missed his eyes by a whisker as he raised his head above the ledge. Dipping down to allow the return sweep to pass harmlessly over his head, he gathered all his strength and thrust upward with his arms, pivoting at the hips to vault both legs across the ledge. He caught the female behind the ankles, knocking her legs out from under her. She tumbled backwards and crashed on the rocks, bellowing in pain.

He made his way to his feet. She was not far behind, the blade held before her, waving back and forth. He could hear the repeated clang of metal on metal from beyond the crest and knew Giselle and the male were having at it. Geoff was in a precarious position; poised on the edge with the female before him and a long drop behind. She was not a pro; but then, neither was he. He focused not on the blade, but on her eyes, waiting for her to telegraph her next move.

She thrust twice in rapid succession; first right, then left. He dodged in opposite succession, his superior speed enabling him to evade the blade. She danced to her right, then thrust across. He turned to his right, taking her thrust harmlessly down his left side. Without conscious thought, he clamped his left hand down atop her right wrist, reversed direction, brought his right hand up to clamp the underside of her wrist, then pivoted down and out with his arms, using her arm as a fulcrum.

The effect was spectacular. The Golganthan flew off her legs, spun through the air – and over the ledge. He could hear the recurrent, sickening

crunch

as she bounced down the side of the rocks, then the dull

thud

as she hit the ground. Geoff just looked at his two hands, not comprehending what they had just done. A flicker of movement below him caught his eye. To his utter amazement, the Golganthan was hobbling away, in distress, but under her own power. He knew with certainty

he

would not have survived such a fall.