Chapter 4 Moonlust Strikes
Moonlust Strikes
With each passing day, Tāwera’s fascination with the lovely woman increased. His curiosity. His desperation to communicate with her. He stared out of the window into the early morning darkness, thinking, planning. Hoping.
The woman had scrubbed the salt, the sea, the stinky green plant off his outer shell, and he’d slowly dried.
Then, she’d moved him from the small room in which water poured from the wall.
His new position offered him a view of the sea and the upright black-and-white birds that waddled to and from the water.
He recognized their clicks and honks and brays, but until the woman had found him, he hadn’t seen the creature that made these sounds.
This change brought new brightness to his world, and he savored his enhanced senses.
Even better, the woman spoke, telling Tāwera about her day.
Small, inconsequential happenings, some of which mystified him.
The lack of communication, however, frustrated him.
He’d tried to send his thoughts over and over and over, but they never reached her.
The woman exited her sleeping room, dressed in a soft green garment that bared her long legs, and humming softly.
From his position by the window, he couldn’t see her, but he’d learned her routine.
She’d eat and prepare for her day, then dress in the strange outdoor clothes that made her resemble a man and leave.
Sometimes, she returned for nourishment, while at other times, she stayed away for long hours while he amused himself watching the creatures coming and going from the beach.
“Huh,” she said, capturing his attention. “An email at long last. I’d wondered if Mum and Hana had forgotten me.”
Once again, her words mystified him, but he listened closely, enjoying her soft voice and the way it caressed his mind and calmed his angst.
“I’ll read it to you.”
Yes, he’d enjoy hearing more of her strange world, and he wished she’d stand in front of him so he could admire her beautiful body and study her strange, sometimes scanty clothing. Warmth crept through him, and Tāwera welcomed the sensation because it meant he wasn’t entirely crazy.
“‘Dear Nyree, Hana and I are happy living in our new home. Manu and Jessalyn have made us welcome, and because the land is private, we enjoy the solitude, especially during the full moon. Ari came to see me at my job.’” Nyree paused, her voice cracking.
She stalked into his range of vision, pale and perturbed.
Tāwera had already overheard her angry mutters about this Ari-man.
They’d been together, but something terrible had happened.
Nyree had left her home to escape. In the days since she’d found Tāwera and brought him here, she’d lost the tension in her shoulders.
She’d relaxed and laughed more readily. She walked with a spring to her step, her hips rocking enticingly.
Now, the tension returned. Her smile vanished into a pinched line.
Tāwera wished to ease her stress, and frustration assailed him at his lack of agency.
A strange cracking pounded in his ears, and Tāwera feared his heart had fractured.
He stretched outward, shifting within the confines of his prison.
This woman had changed his drudgery to a more exciting life, even if he still struggled with his curse.
Nyree—he assumed that was her name from various conversations he’d heard—cleared her throat in a loud swallow.
“I don’t know what Ari’s plan is, but I hate him visiting Mum or Hana.
H-he’ll hurt them to get to me. They can’t see past his charm.
” She paced the length of the room and back, her cheeks rounds of red and her hands fisted.
“Mum and Hana think I’m an idiot for leaving him. They don’t understand.”
She stomped out of his sight and back, her limbs jerking, her hands yanking at her hair. She bumped into a table and righted the cup she almost knocked to the floor.
“He’s a monster. If he doesn’t get his way, his charm falls by the wayside. His temper takes control. Now I’ve pricked his pride by leaving, he won’t hesitate to strike against them.”
“He hit you?”
Nyree jolted, her eyes widening. She stared at him or rather his rock prison, and a frown formed on her sun-kissed forehead. “D-did you say something?”
“This man struck you in anger?” To Tāwera’s disappointment, the words didn’t emerge with clarity, and when her expression remained impassive, his aggravation grew. His beleaguered heart shrank inward until the tight pressure had him wanting to roar his frustration, his disappointment.
What did he do to change his fate, to communicate with this intriguing woman?
She inched closer and ran a hand over his stone. He sighed at the gentle caress, and the force on his chest reduced, allowing him to take a full breath. Her eyes widened. “You’ve got a fracture. Maybe I shouldn’t have let you dry out.”
A crack? His rock prison had never suffered damage, not even when the sailor had dropped him into the sea. It had been the last time he’d seen the sailor.
Her finger gently traced an area on his front, and warmth emanated from her stroke.
“George, you’re such an ugly gargoyle. I wonder how you ended up in the sea. The internet told me nothing, but you intrigue me.”
Yes, she fascinated him too. Why did she call him George?
Her taniwha status raised so many questions.
Before his brother had cursed him to this endless existence, the taniwha numbers had been few.
He’d never sought others, had never sensed others in his region.
His mother had taught him to keep their nature a secret.
She hadn’t wanted him to endure the persecution her parents had suffered when all they’d craved was a peaceful existence.
Nyree stepped away from him and returned to her letter.
“‘Ari told me he’d take you back if you apologized.’” Nyree scoffed, disgust ringing out in her derision. “He’s a two-faced monster. He’s worse than me, and I’m the taniwha.”
Tāwera bade her continue because the more she spoke, the more he learned of this strange world.
“‘Ari mentioned a misunderstanding. He loves you and wants a future. Children. Family. Grandchildren. There were tears in his eyes when he mentioned how much he misses you. He said he’d gone to George Taniwha & Son to ask after you, and your cousin, Hone, manhandled him from the premises. They refused to tell him anything, so he approached me. Before we discussed the matter fully, Manu arrived and forced Ari to leave. Ari begged me to call him.’” Nyree paused and made the expression of a Māori warrior about to head into battle.
“What a load of rubbish,” she spat. “Ari is a liar, and he’s trying to fool Mum.
Perhaps I should’ve told her more instead of hiding the truth from her and Hana. ”
She halted and ceased her muttering, much to Tāwera’s disgust. He wanted details.
This Ari-man sounded brutal. Tāwera had known some in his time—men who’d mistreated their wives. These warriors had cowered at the rear like sniveling children during a battle. They were cowards attempting to make themselves appear brave and robust by hurting those weaker.
Nyree gathered her belongings and turned off the machine she read from, as was her habit. She retreated, leaving Tāwera alone and frustrated. He ached to speak with her. A shudder rolled over him as he recalled her caress.
Most, he wanted to touch her and rid her of this terrifying Ari-man, even though she was a powerful taniwha. Why she didn’t attack the man and remove the trouble he brought to her life? Was this man a taniwha too?
Perhaps the taniwha had grown into a powerful tribe during his absence.
Tāwera didn’t know, and his vexation at his lack of conversation grew each day. The occasional thought reached her, but the transmission was inconsistent.
Nyree strode from the bedroom, now dressed in a formfitting shirt and leg coverings. As usual, she’d arranged her straight black hair in a braid, and it hung down her back, bouncing with each rapid step.
“Okay, George. I’m off now.” She flashed a grin and hustled from the room. Seconds later, the door slammed, and he was alone.
George. Again. One of the many Nyree puzzles that plagued him.
His chest tightened again, this time in dissatisfaction—how he craved the ability to communicate aloud.
Since she’d rescued him from the sea, he’d become used to hearing her speak the English language.
Rāwiri and other senior members of Tāwera’s tribe had declared him stupid to learn the pākehā words, but he enjoyed new challenges.
Now, he was glad of his skill since she didn’t speak Māori, despite her obvious—at least to him—heritage.
Tāwera sighed. Perhaps this was another test of his mettle, and he’d never speak with Nyree man to woman. Despondency nipped at him, and he focused on the view outside the window. He had the birds to occupy his mind, which was more than he’d had before.
Without warning, a familiar prickling started in his chest, the old awareness taking him by surprise. The moon. It was approaching its full cycle. Another week before it waned again.
If he’d been in his two-legged state, he’d have shifted to a dragon and gone for a long flight, or when he and Aroha were together, he’d make love to appease his taniwha and maintain his control.
He had no idea why this recognition was occurring now when his taniwha had remained inert since the curse had entrapped him. It had to be the woman’s presence.
Ah, so many questions and not a single answer.
“What are we doing today?” Nyree asked Carolyn.
“How about dusting the next museum exhibits on the list? We have a cruise ship arriving at eleven. I’ll get you to cover the shop today, and I’ll do the whaling station tour.”