
Bayou Shifters: ChaseKira Stone
All rights reserved.Copyright ©2007 Kira Stone
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-792-3Formats Available:HTML, Adobe PDF,MobiPocket, Microsoft ReaderPublisher:Changeling Press LLCPO Box 1046Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046www.ChangelingPress.comEditor: Connie AlbertsCover Artist: Fabiano Fabris
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Bayou Shifters: Chase
Kira Stone
It is a madness that draws Chase to the Louisiana bayou, leaving his sister and his art studio behind. The fact that he longs to strip off his clothes and run naked through the swamp with the wild creatures who live there isn't his first clue that something isn't right with him... but it just might be his last.
There are many dangers in the brackish waters that can trip the unwary. Gators and poisonous snakes, oh yes. But also men with guns intent on their sport -- hunting the special breed of wolves that exist only in their little corner of the world. Werewolves, that is.
Casper knows all too well about the men who live to kill people like him. He vows he'll do whatever it takes to see that the newest man-pup to make the pilgrimage to his territory will survive his first shift.
But what can he do when sacrificing his heart, mind and body isn't enough to save Chase from his own worst fears...
Chase twisted up the single thin sheet covering his naked body, strangling it between his legs. Worn to exhaustion yet bursting with restless energy, he was too angry, hot and discontented to sleep.
"Damn this place." He considered the statement, then amended it. "Damn me."
He certainly felt like one of The Damned. The interior of this cabin on the edge of the Louisiana bayou was hotter than hell.
For a brief minute, he recalled his former life in a black and white montage of mental pictures. A loving family. A one-of-a-kind job he loved, where he could work as much or as little as he wanted and let his sister, Jackie, worry about paying the bills. An urban condo overlooking a man-made view that fed his creative talent with thousands of ideas for Jackie and him to turn into metallic art. And he'd chucked it all, for this.
Christ, he was stupid.
And desperate.
The wanderlust nipping at his heels since puberty had finally turned into a compulsion he had to obey. What was he after? Would he find it here, or would the time come when he'd feel compelled to move on once more? Would he ever be able to go home again?
These questions kept his mind running when his body wanted to collapse into a deep, dreamless sleep. Knowing from experience that the night only got longer when he stared at the ceiling, Chase untangled his legs from the white sheet and got out of bed.
His pampered twenty-four-year-old body had melted in the muggy bayou heat, sweating off fat as easily as pissing water. His long legs had a lean definition he hadn't been willing to acquire through hard exercise. Same for a set of six-pack abs and an ass so tight one could bounce quarters off it. As if any of it mattered. No one would be looking at his ass, or any other part of him, twice these days.
Naked and gleaming in the moonlight, Chase stood at the door to the old cottage -- hardly more than a fishing shack, really -- and gazed out across the black water.
The night air was rich with scents. Detritus of millions of years formed an extensive, nutrient rich soil upon which grew a warren of vegetation not a hundred feet from his front porch. Animals of all kinds, from spiders to gators, lived under its canopy. He wondered how soon it would be before he joined them.
Every day a little more of his civilized edge crumbled away. Back in the city, it never would have occurred to him to leave the house without clothes on. Now it took a concentrated effort to recall why he shouldn't. More often than not, he roamed the swamp bare-assed and footloose. He needed a keeper, but left Tacoma before his sister shouldered that responsibility too. She already had enough to do as the iron backbone of Dragon's Breath Creations. Controlling his mental illness was something he had to learn himself, one way or another.
The night creatures called to him, a siren song of invitation. Beat them or join them? It wasn't even a question he paused to ask himself on nights like this. Join them, that was the only possible answer. The dregs of his humanity would draw him back to the cottage come dawn, but in the twilight hours he was just as much a creature of the night as those who had been born there.
He headed down his favorite path, one that would take him into the heart of the bayou. The soles of his feet had toughened during his frequent amblings so he no longer felt the sharp rocks, twigs, and bones poking up through the soft soil. Soon his sweat drowned the mosquitoes trying to extract an ounce of his flesh, and he felt a small measure of peace.
Sometimes he picked up a companion on these nocturnal wanderings. The black wolfhound was hard to see in the shadow-laden swamp. Usually Chase detected him first by scent, then by sound. Tonight the wind brought him neither sign. He was all alone.
Or was he?
Lights danced in the distance, a bevy of blinking faerie lights. Eventually their presence connected with a logical conclusion in his sluggish human mind. Headlamps on an air boat or a rigged up river skiff searching the banks of an inlet, being as quiet and stealthy as such an activity could be.
Curious. He'd seen plenty of boats roaring up and down the channels without regard for the laws of the land. So why were these people creeping around? What were they after?
A fierce, inexplicable protectiveness rose in him. He wanted them off his land. Now. The fact that the strong compulsion made no sense did little to appease the need. If nothing else, Chase had to know what they were doing.
He grabbed a double handful of mud and ground it into his skin, darkening his brown sugar tan into the color of brewed coffee grounds. As far as disappearing acts went in this neck of the woods, it was one of the best. His occasional wolfish companion had taught him that.
Now suitably soiled, Chase advanced through the brush, stopping every couple of feet to listen. The bayou's evening song had quieted, another indication that something bad was about to happen. If he'd had hackles, they would have been raised. All of his senses were on alert. He strained to capture any hint of danger.
His human observation skills weren't up to the task. Chase almost stumbled over the wolf before he realized the creature was blocking his path.
"Go away," Chase hissed at it. "There's danger for you here." The wolf shook his head, as a human would. An oddity to be sure, but food for later thought. He had a mission, and a wolf wasn't going to get in his way. "Get. Run. Leave."
None of the words had an effect, so Chase resorted to kicking up a bit of dirt, hoping to scare the animal off. The wolf didn't even flinch.
"Right. Not afraid of getting dirty or whispered words. Stupid of me." Also, stupid of him to be naked while arguing with a creature capable of tearing his balls off. The wolf had never made a threatening move toward him before, but there was a first time for everything. Chase preferred to delay that particular experience as long as possible. "I'll just be on my way then. Don't try to follow me."
He tried to step around the wolf, but the creature paced him. Crossing the water didn't shake his furry tail either. No matter how he moved, the wolf stayed between him and the flashing lights.
Chase found a relatively solid stump to sit on while he pondered his options. Several feet away, the wolf turned in a circle before settling down. His huge head rested on his big front paws. He yawned once, then closed his yellow eyes. Chase wasn't fooled for a second. That wolf knew exactly where he was and would rise as soon as he moved. So where did that leave him now?
Their contact thus far had been limited to traveling companions. The wolf came and went on a schedule that only he knew, and usually kept his distance. This was the first chance they'd had to get to know each other. Since the animal didn't seem to mind, Chase studied him.
His glossy black coat was matted in places. Mud caked his padded paws. His right ear had a notch taken out of it, about halfway up the outer edge. Otherwise, he looked lean and healthy with a thick plume of a tail. A sexy beast, all in all.
Sexy? Ohmygod.
More than a term, it had a direct physical response on Chase's body. He did think the wolf was sexy, in a thoroughly carnal way. Oh, the things that extra long tongue could do to his balls...
Oh, hell no! Snap out of it!
What was wrong with him? He'd had some pretty strange fantasies lately, but nothing so deviant as this. Was he insane?
Despite the grim circumstances, Chase smiled. Jackie would be the first to tell him that his brain worked in mysterious ways. Considering that particular oddity generated enough money to keep them both out of the poor house, she didn't voice the observation as a complaint. She accepted him as he was, had been his strongest supporter when he struggled to find himself as a man and an artist, and had been his best friend through it all. And he'd left her without a word to avoid being asked for explanations he couldn't give. What a selfish bastard he was.
That line of thought wasn't doing anything to improve his current frame of mind. His attention darted back to the wolf. And his fantasies. "Are you a tame beast? Is that why you seem so comfortable with me?"
At the sound of his voice, the wolf glanced up at him. There was great intelligence glowing from those golden yellow irises, but no answers.
Chase didn't want to let the subject drop. It suddenly seemed as if all the answers he so desperately needed could be found within the wolf, if only the creature would speak to him. "Come on, you big, bad wolf. Talk to me."
The beast opened his mouth, letting his tongue slip free. The creature was laughing at him!
"I am losing it," Chase said, disgusted with himself for even thinking such foolishness.
Crack!
The boat bobbing in the shallow tide rocked with the recoil of a gun. The angry roar of an injured alligator rumbled through the night. Water splashed violently, as if two creatures wrestled in the waist-high depths. There was another shot, and then total silence.
Gator hunters were poaching on his land. Intolerable!
Laughter and effusive congratulations erupted from the direction of the boat. Chase shot forward, thinking of nothing but killing those men. A life for a life. How he would accomplish such a feat when they had guns and he couldn't even cover his butt, he didn't know. But he'd be damned if he'd sit by and let murder happen without at least trying to stop the men who'd committed the heinous act.
Surprise gave him a head start on the wolf. It wasn't enough. The animal bounded twice and landed squarely in front of Chase. This time he wasn't playing, or so the soft growl in the creature's throat warned.
"This is wrong. It needs to stop."
The wolf dipped his head in acknowledgement, but didn't move out of the way.
"I need to know who they are. I'll report them to the police instead of confronting them now if that's what you want, but I need names. A license plate. Something!"
He was running out of time. The men had hauled their prize into the boat with a noisy flop. Soon the engines would kick up a wild ruckus, destroying most of the evidence, and they'd disappear into the swamp at a speed he couldn't hope to match on foot. He had to move, now.
Chase charged the wolf, leaping over him with more ground clearance than he'd ever gotten during his stint as hurdler for the high school track team. He sprinted through the trees. The engines started and Chase pushed himself for another ounce of speed. He could almost read the name on the bow...
Smack!
The wolf tackled him from the side. Chase went down hard. His teeth bounced together, slicing into the soft tissue of his lip. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. "What the hell is wrong with you?" As he listened to the boat roar off into the night, Chase swelled with anger. "They're fucking gone and I have no clue how to track them down! Are you happy now?"
The wolf yipped in response. Chase wasn't sure how to interpret that, nor did he care to. Someone had violated his territory and killed a beast under his protection, and he'd done nothing to stop it from happening again. The insult stung his pride in a way he hadn't known was possible. The fact that he still couldn't explain why he felt so protective of this piece of land had no impact on the intensity of his feelings. "I'm going to see if they left anything behind. Stay out of my way while I do. Got that?"
He didn't wait for another cryptic response from his furry, unwanted guardian. Instead, he got to his feet. A thin trail of blood trickled from his chin and there was a shallow gash along his arm where a sharp claw had torn the skin. A bad scrape, but nothing permanent. He seemed to heal in minutes these days.
He fought through the vegetation to where the channel had eroded the land, forming a relatively stagnant pool. The signs of a deadly struggle were grim and obvious. A mother gator hadn't been willing to abandon her nest of eggs. She'd been a sitting duck once the hunters spotted her in the undergrowth.
A great sadness weighed him down as he looked upon the shell fragments. Sticky yolk that would never become gator babies coated the nest. Whether the desperate mother or the careless men had caused the carnage, it was hard to tell. Either way, Chase mourned the unnecessary loss.
With nothing he could do to salvage the situation, Chase turned his back on the destruction and moved under the cover of the mangroves lining the wet bank. He didn't understand why he gravitated toward the long shadows any more than he understood why he felt so strongly about the illegal hunting. Neither urge had afflicted him back home.
Back home. Tacoma and Jackie and all the familiar sights and sounds of his artist studio. Would he ever see it again? Probably not. Even if he hadn't burned his bridges by leaving like a thief in the night, he couldn't risk exposing his sister to whatever illness was slowly overtaking him. Not until he had it under control.
If it didn't kill him first.
Feeling sad, alone and sick to his stomach, he curled up into a ball on the forest floor. Coward. Weakling. He should have found a way to protect what was his. Jackie would have.
A soft snuffle brought him out of his brooding. The wolf sat near his feet, subjecting him to the same scrutiny Chase had given the animal earlier. "Go away. Leave me alone."
His dark head cocked at a questioning angle.
"Get out of here!" Doggedly, the stubborn creature refused to budge. Chase kicked out at him, missing his shoulder by a mile as the agile creature darted out of the way. "I don't need you. I don't want you around."
Yes, you do.
Casper didn't stick around to gauge the human's reaction to his mental comment. If he'd admit to hearing the words at all, the young man would become violent or demand answers he wasn't ready to hear. A fast retreat seemed best, so he loped off into the darkness.
Besides, he had a few needs of his own to resolve before he could help the confused man-pup.
Unlike most of his kind, he lived alone and moved often. His digs had to be abandoned after a few weeks of use, or he risked capture -- or death. He couldn't think of a torture worse than losing his freedom, so he practiced extreme caution to avoid it.
Tonight he had a place picked out, an old cement boat ramp. The ever-evolving bayou had abandoned it, leaving it exposed to more of nature's children. Wind and burrowing animals had carved out a hollow in the dirt over the decades, leaving the man-made cement as a roof. Dark as a cave and twice as comfy. He'd have a good night's sleep and figure out what his next move with the human would be in the morning.
On his way back to his resting spot, he caught a fat rabbit for a late night snack. The man-pup wouldn't approve, he thought with amusement. Not yet. But he was young, and he'd learn. Being a wolf had far more benefits than an ordinary human could appreciate.
Survival was a skill most animals started learning from the day they were born. The urban jungle had nothing on mother nature when it came to dangerous situations, so it was critical to get an early start. For those who lived in a habitat made from elements more organic than glass, concrete and steel, it became an everyday part of life. Those alive at the end of the day won.
That kind of primal struggle wasn't for the top of the food chain. Humans tended to over-coddle their young, leaving them vulnerable and unprepared for the harsh realities of adulthood. Never mind preparing them for the day-to-day survival in a hot, hostile swamp. The fact that the man-pup had followed his natural instincts so far on his own was impressive. He'd make a good wolf when the time came, if he could wrap his mind around the concept that the human way wasn't always the best way to do things.
Sex and food. That's where lupine sensibilities clashed most often with deeply seated human ones. Casper knew that from experience, his own and the other were-pups who'd found their way into his swamp. For some, the chasm was too great to cross. Their minds rebelled, and they usually ended up in a cage, real or imagined.
Casper didn't think his newest foundling would lose his mind. He'd already taken a very large step, thinking of Casper's wolf form in sexual terms. He'd seen as much in his eyes, read it in his body language, scented it in the air around him. The man-pup thought Casper was one hot wolf.
Casper barked in laughter. Maybe his wolf form wouldn't shatter any mirrors, but his human form took more tolerance to face than even he usually had. So he'd teach the man-pup the true meaning of puppy love. A wrestling match with an entirely different kind of playing. The only wrinkle would be if he had homophobic prejudices. Casper would have to do a little investigation there before he attempted such a rutting.
Assuming the human could keep himself under control long enough for Casper to find out, and what a joy that would be. The foundling had retained most of his puppy fat until the day he'd settled in the abandoned cabin on the edge of the bayou. The sweltering summer burned off a good bit of it, revealing the ripple of firm muscles underneath. He had grace and power and an innocence unique to a pup before his first full shift. The total package would be worth a good mint if he put his body up for bid on the Fetish Black Market. The chance to be the one to change him forever would bring over a million dollars.
Coming to the bayou ensured he would escape that kind of sleaze, the ones who would turn him into a fur-fetish whore. It was about the only thing O'Grady was good for; he refused to let anyone else poach in his parish. That still meant the man-pup had to find a were-partner, for the change -- both mental and physical aspects -- wouldn't be complete until he experienced all aspects of his new lupine life.
Oddly, Casper wanted to be his first lupine lover. Part of that was due to the wolfie pheromones the man-pup was pumping out as his body prepared for the trauma of his first shift. Even though Casper knew better than to take the arousal personally, sexual need clawed at his belly. The faint lingering scent of the human clung to his fur after their brief body contact. Too bad he hadn't had an opportunity to enjoy that position, pressing his weight down upon the naked man-pup. He could now, though, if only in his fantasies. But in human or wolf form?
The human world held little attraction for him. His animal side dominated his life. However, the idea of mounting the human, skin to skin without the padding of fur in between, pounding into his muscular ass until they both howled in release, was very appealing. He could give it a mental dry run, just for variety.
Balls, he was in the mood to rut. Shifting from fur to flesh took seconds after doing it for decades. Even so, his hips undulated against the night air before the process finished. He scored his chest with his rapidly shortening nails as his hands drifted down to his waist. The only pelt remaining, a dense thatch of curly black hair, served as an arrow, guiding him down his abdomen to the very promising land between his thighs.
He might be short on looks, but he was long in cock no matter which form he took. Already harder than the ground under him, Casper took a hold of his rigid shaft in a grip just shy of pain. He started at the head, sliding down. With his eyes closed, he watched his cock disappear into the imaginary man on top of him.
"You hot, tight little fuck," Casper whispered to the human. His phantom foundling had no reply, save to let his blue eyes twinkle in sheer enjoyment.
Casper arched into his fist, using his powerful legs to bring his ass off the ground. He locked his muscles to hold him in place as his hand manipulated the base of his cock. All his mind registered was the pleasure of his lover grinding down on his thick erection. "Oh, fuck yeah."
The words drew an extra hard squeeze from the imaginary anal muscles milking him. His free hand came up to slap his balls, adding a stinging counterpoint to each deep thrust. It felt so good, but not nearly good enough to get him off. He wanted to push in hard and fast and deep. He wanted to split the man-pup open, until they were both panting, begging for completion. To achieve release in a down-and-dirty, animal frenzy of a fuck.
And he couldn't stretch out properly in the tight quarters he'd selected. Time to take a short trip outside. A heap of green moss covering an abandoned gator nest provided the surface he was looking for. He searched the rounded mound for signs of hidden danger. Finding nothing but velvet-coated earth, Casper draped himself over it, belly down. His knees hugged the rise as his erection dug its own groove.
His inherent caution allowed him enough control to keep the first few thrusts slow. He didn't need to ruin the fantasy by impaling his cock on some sharp stake he'd missed during his hasty recon. However, the pace didn't stay slow for long. He wanted to let his lust burn.
The damp vegetation provided little friction as his cock glided over it. Each sharp snap of his hips drove him into the hard yet yielding surface. So much better than fucking the humid air.
Casper closed his eyes and let his fantasy settle back into place. The foundling lay underneath him, not the unresponsive block of earth. His back muscles provided an uneven surface that rubbed his puckered nipples in just the right way. He curled his fingers over the man's shoulders and rocked into his tight ass, grinding in.
Humidity thickened the layer of sweat coating his body. Moisture collected on his straining muscles as he repeatedly flexed into his lover's sweet hole. Droplets became a steady rivulet running down the crack in his ass, tormenting his own anus with a ticklishly tender, constant caress.
A moan struggled through the taut cords of his neck. His sac tingled with incipient orgasm. In his mind, he imagined jacking his partner's equally hard cock. "Gonna fill you up, boy. Are you ready for it?"
Wind hissed through the nearby leaves, giving him the answer he wanted to hear. Yes.
"Good boy. So good."
His knees ached. His hips and shoulders burned from the prolonged physical effort. Yet Casper doubled up his pace, fucking ferociously the way few real humans would ever allow. Fucking the way his true nature demanded, like a wild animal.
His cock throbbed with each beat of his racing heart. He rested his head in the curve of his phantom foundling's neck, then scraped the sides of his torso with his nails. When he reached the indent of his partner's waist, Casper gripped him tightly as the first avalanche of orgasm cascaded through his body. He plunged his cock into his mental lover's ass, balls deep. The imaginary man-pup pressed back, offering the firm resistance he loved. Semen pumped out in thick gouts, sending pulsating ripples of pleasure back to his balls.
A feral groan ripped through the night. Casper bucked through the last of his climax, until numbness and exhaustion forced him to collapse. Once upon a time, that would have been the first of many in a night. He was too long out of practice for such an extended performance. Nor was it necessary. Without a real flesh and blood partner to impress, once was good enough.
Still, he enjoyed the pleasing tingle of sexual awareness lingering in his blood. He ran his hands over his rapidly cooling body. He tweaked his nipples for an extra shot of pleasure before he got to his feet. His century-old bones made the task surprisingly easy. However, as he stretched to restore proper circulation, he realized he was likely to be sore in the morning.
Nothing new there. His battle scars would have guaranteed that much, even without the added workout.
Casper followed his nose to the nearest pool of relatively clean water. He splashed around in it to remove the worst of the dirt, moss and fluid that clung to him. After shifting into lupine form, he shook himself dry and padded back into his den.
Without the distraction of his body's mating call, his mind had more room to think about the problems the foundling presented. Rex O'Grady, the parish sheriff, wouldn't be threatened by the man-pup's interest in his nocturnal activities. Not yet. That didn't mean he'd tolerate the human interrupting his favorite sport of gator hunting. Kill or be killed was the O'Grady family motto. And the rule applied to more creatures than just the ancient reptiles. Casper knew that for a fact. He'd felt O'Grady's thirst for his blood, and paid a high price to learn the lesson.
Whatever it cost him, he had to make sure the foundling wasn't forced to learn the same lesson the hard way. An experienced swamp hunter like O'Grady would eat the clueless man-pup alive. Casper didn't want that to happen any more than he wanted to see the shiftless human go insane. The key to both involved forcing the change, accepting that he was more than man or beast alone, and then getting the hell out of the bayou so he could start living his new life.
Should he wait for nature to take its course? The man-pup was so close. There was a good chance a strong breeze against his naked body could blow him into it. However, experience reminded Casper that it was equally possible for the young foundling to stand on the precipice for years if his human mind rejected the beast within. Casper had seen it happen, seen people go crazy because of it. He'd snap the man-pup's neck to save him from enduring that nightmare of a future.
The choice could wait a few more days. Mother nature had a strong will. Most learned to bend to it before they broke. As long as the man-pup clung to the forest, stayed out of the nearby town, the bayou and O'Grady's hunting grounds, he'd be all right.
Casper would watch over him to make sure of it.
Daylight turned the one-room shack into a humid furnace. Chase gave up trying to sleep long before it became too hot to breathe. The vegetation didn't provide much more shade than the roof of his hut, but being surrounded by the greenery convinced him there was a lot more oxygen in the air.
For the first few hours, he worked at digging a body-sized basin out of the black soil. Brackish water filled it up almost as quickly as he could empty it out. That wasn't the important part. He wasn't making a tub to get clean, just to cool off and maybe shave. It was the one human ritual he had yet to forsake. As if keeping his chin smooth somehow kept him from de-evolving, no matter what was happening to the rest of him.
The hard workout helped him to keep his mind off other things, the wolf in particular. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the creature since he crawled out of bed. Nor did he want to. He was still angry at the way the animal had thwarted his efforts to rescue the mother gator or at least serve justice to those who had murdered her and her unborn babies.
Unfortunately, he was equally hot to fuck that arrogant, aggravating creature.
Every time the idea of having sex with the black wolf intruded, Chase redoubled his digging efforts. He was a good man, not the kind to bugger innocent children or animals. The fact that this particular desire wouldn't die a swift death worried him more than all of his other peculiar notions combined. Thankfully, the wolf with oddly human mannerisms was the only subject his deviant libido thirsted for. A quick mental check of other animals he'd come in contact with -- a friend's dog, beasts he'd seen in the zoo, horses and other farm animals that had become the butt of so many shepherd jokes -- proved he had no romantic designs on any other four-legged creatures. Just the wolf.
Silky black fur. Strong lines. Aggressive. Dominant. Alpha.
Maybe he should just save himself the trouble of going insane by --
No, he wasn't even going to finish that thought. He was sick, but that didn't mean he was incurable. As soon as he found what he was looking for in this damn swamp, whatever the hell that was, his life would get back to normal. And if it didn't, well, he'd deal with the situation then. In the meantime, he'd dig his mud hole and try to cool the fever in his body and his brain.
When his stomach demanded he stop and eat, Chase contemplated his options. His last grocery run had been weeks ago. The bargain bulk store had a limited selection of canned goods. He was getting tired of eating corn beef hash, mushy fruit cocktail and tuna fish.
Steak. That's what he wanted. Rare and thick. He could almost taste the juices dribbling down his throat. He had no refrigeration in the cabin so meat would have to be caught and killed -- something he had no experience doing -- or hunted down in one of the supermarkets in town.
He hadn't been among his fellow humans in a while. That could be part of his problem. Living in the jungle had brought out the beast in him. Spending some time in civilized society might restore some of his urban manners.
And net him a steak.
Decision made, he retreated to the hot cabin and dug out a pair of cut-off shorts and tank top from the rusty locker he'd stored them in. Like everything else in the bayou, they smelled musty but at least they were clean. He used a gallon of purified water to wash up then got dressed, grabbed his wallet and headed into town.
It was a hike, longer than he remembered. He'd sold his expensive foreign car months ago, needing the cash far more than the transportation. Tramping through the dense brush made him wish he'd held onto it a little while longer. Hauling his supplies home was going to be a bitch. It was almost enough to make him turn around.
Almost, but not quite.
Without a watch or a clock to tell him what time he'd left, Chase had no idea how long it had taken him to get to the edge of the small Louisiana town. It was still hot, and he now craved water more than anything.
Luckily, he'd stumbled into civilization near a convenience store. An SUV emblazoned with police insignias was parked in front of it. The deputy, a fit-looking man who appeared to be in his late forties, argued with a pretty blonde woman about half his age. From time to time, the woman darted a worried glance over her shoulder toward the interior of the small store.
Chase wasn't sure what it was about the couple that seemed off to him. The woman's fear was almost palpable yet there didn't seem to be a reason for it. However, the wrongness of their heated, soft-spoken exchange created an itch between his shoulders that no amount of scratching could satisfy.
Not his problem, he decided. He had enough of his own.
The itching continued to needle him as he walked into the snack shop. A blast of air smacked him in the face. He snapped at it, literally.
"What's your problem, mister?"
Chase spun around to see a young girl standing behind the checkout counter. She looked to be about fourteen going on twenty-five. Her red shorts were barely longer than bikini bottoms. A white tank top clung to her budding breasts. The look in her eye invited him to take a good long gander at whatever interested him, especially the items that weren't displayed on a shelf.
He wasn't even remotely tempted to take her up on that offer. Thank God. He pasted a polite, impersonal smile on his face. "It's the heat. I'm not used to it."
"Then you're definitely not from around here." She sat on a high, wooden stool and crossed her legs. "So where are you from?"
Small talk. He sucked at it, even before he started to go starkers. Where was Jackie when he needed her? His tougher-than-nails sister could put anyone at ease. Or on their guard. "Everywhere and nowhere."
"Seriously, man, you can tell me. I'm going to be a travel agent when I grow up, going to all the hot spots, seeing the sights. I'm gonna have fun." She tossed her mane of honey blonde hair over her shoulder. "So, like, what do you do for fun?"
Chase ducked down one the aisles, retreating all the way to the back. It didn't cut off the sound of her voice, or the pregnant pause that could have birthed triplets as she waited for him to respond. "I don't get out much, really."
"A hot guy like you? I don't believe it."
Great. A teenager thought he was hot when he knew he had to look like something that crawled out of the swamp to die. "I design things. I can lose track of time, playing around with the pictures inside my head. Women don't think much of you when you don't remember to show up for a date." Men neither, to be fair. Not even the ones who professed to adore his "artistic temperament."
"Geez, ever hear of an alarm clock?"
The feeling between his shoulders got worse, almost painful. He glanced out the window and saw that the man in uniform was staring back at him. Chase felt compelled to confront him, chase him off. Ridiculous, even more so than when he'd had the same feeling in the swamp. The cop had as much right to be on this land as he did. The best thing he could do was finish his shopping and go back to the shack. Fast.
He ducked down another aisle and started to grab things at random. "Tried them. Found I could ignore them too."
The girl angled her body to show off her slim curves in a practiced move she had to have picked up watching television. "Can't imagine. I'm up before the first beep ends."
Chase dumped his armload of supplies on the counter between them. She started ringing his order up like a pro. "Anything else I can get for you?"
Again with the look that said he could have whatever he wanted, even if it wasn't for sale. It gave him a panicky feeling that didn't help his already shaky nerves. "Ice. I need ice."
"That's outside. My mom's tied up, so you'll have to give me a hand."
She came around the counter, key in hand. The arguing couple outside was more animated now, gesturing wildly. The man didn't like what he was hearing, and the woman didn't seem to get much satisfaction from saying it.
The girl paused by the exit. "Are you coming, or what?"
Chase felt the cop's dagger glare knife into his back. Sheriff O'Grady wanted him off his turf as badly as Chase wanted the reverse. "Did you have some trouble at the store? Is that why the officer is here?"
"That's Rex O'Grady. He's the sheriff. He's always hassling us."
The woman looked over again, glanced around a bit panicked until she spotted them in front of the store. The girl stood still, seemingly torn between going to her mother's side and staying within flirting range of him. A slight shake of the woman's head settled the matter.
"I'm Alexis, by the way. That's my mom, Luna, with the sheriff."
"Chase." Damn. He didn't mean to give his real name. Though it was unlikely that anyone would think to look for him here, it was better to be safe than sorry. "Michael Chase."
She unlocked the door to the freezer. "How many bags do you want?"
"Two." He wanted more, but since he had to walk home, two was all he could carry.
"Rex, no!"
The cry came from behind him. The girl fell sideways, pulling out the bags of ice as she did. Both she and Chase turned in time to see the sheriff shake his arm free of the woman, Luna, who was trying to hold him back. He slapped her across the face hard enough to send her sprawling onto the dirt.
Alexis scrambled to her feet. "Mom!"
By the time his brain registered the decision to fight -- what he had yearned to do all along -- his feet were already moving that direction.
Until he spotted the black Mustang convertible swinging into the parking lot. The car was common enough, but the woman driving it was as unique as they come. His sister, Jackie. Somehow, she'd managed to track him down.
He froze, reason warring with instinct. The woman needed help, the sheriff needed a lesson in manners, and he needed to hide. Once again, Jackie jumped in and did the right thing while he and a few other passersby on the street did nothing. She was out of her car and beside the woman, her car engine still running.
He thought about taking her car, that's how low he'd sunk. He couldn't do it, not to Jackie. However, if he was going to be a coward and a thief, he might as well start earning the title. He grabbed the ice from the ground where Alexis had dumped it and took off running, back into the swamp with the other low-life creatures.
Where he belonged.
Half a bag. That's all the ice Chase had left by the time he'd made it back to his home away from home. Lot of trouble for so little reward, but since he had it he was damn well going to use it. He ripped a hole in the plastic with his teeth and dumped the remains of both bags into the muddy pit he'd dug earlier. It had to be near noon. Best time for a soak as far as Chase was concerned.
He stripped off his clothes, not even bothering to carry them into the house. Just shedding that much of his humanity made him feel better. Sinking into the muddy water was even better. It wasn't cold, by any means. But it was certainly cooler than the humid air around him.
At peace for the moment, Chase closed his eyes and tried to relax despite the shock of seeing his sister again. Jackie was in town. That worry was hard to let go of. How had she found him? He didn't think she'd seen him, or recognized him if she had. Still, he'd have to find some way to keep tabs on her. If she didn't leave soon, he'd have to.
He'd hate to do it. The thought of leaving the bayou and his little shack for good made him nauseous enough to retch. Okay then. Not for good. Maybe for a few weeks, days. Whatever it took to create a false trail that would convince Jackie he'd moved on, gone elsewhere. Then he could come back and spend all his days wallowing in the mud pit, happier than a pig in shit.
Maybe he wouldn't have to leave at all. No one ventured this deep into the swamp without a good reason. He'd have to give up going into town for supplies, but that was no hardship compared to leaving the swamp. He'd dine on boiled crawdads and fish cooked over an open fire. Eat leaves and berries. And stay the hell out of everybody's way.
Satisfied he had a plan he could live with, Chase scanned the area, looking for anything out of place. Finding all as it should be, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander where it would.
The gentle breeze. The water lapping at his belly. The sounds of the swamp critters going about their lives in peaceful harmony. These elements worked together to lull Chase into a dreamy sort of trance. His fantasyland, as Jackie called it. The place he could make dreams come true.
Images rose within his mind. Sculpted steel molded into the shape of mangroves choked by Spanish moss. The wolf balanced on a long limb reaching out over the water. A most satisfied look stretched across his furry face. Chase tried to push the image away, but time and time again his mind brought him back. He knew just how to twist the rods of steel to get the flowing lines, where to burnish the surface so the creature's muscles would appear to ripple. How he would capture the swaying wooden limbs as if they'd just been tugged by an evening breeze. It wouldn't be his most challenging project to date, but he knew it would be among his best.
That is, if he had access to his drawing board to create it, and to his sister's welding skill to give it life...
So much of his humanity seemed to be slipping through his fingers day by day. He didn't know how much longer he could count on remembering his own name, let alone the exacting art of design.
A lamenting sound escaped his throat. Not too far off in the distance, an answering call came back. Chase modulated his voice to better mimic the call. Low and throaty, he growled. Again the call came back to him, closer this time. He wasn't at all surprised to open his eyes and find the wolf standing a few feet in front of him.
"Hello there, boy." Chase ran a wet, lazy hand down his own chest as the wolf stared him down. "Why'd you do it, boy? Why'd you keep me from chasing off those men last night?"
The animal's head dipped in apology. At least that's the impression Chase got. Feeling the need to further press his point, Chase added, "Don't let it happen again. I may not be the type of creature you're used to seeing around here, but I do know how to handle myself in a fight."
A few men had thought he was a pansy because he was an artist, and a gay one at that. His scarred hands and arms should have given them a clue that he was tougher than he looked, but sometimes bullies were determined to be stupid. Chase learned to fight quick and dirty. Nothing good ever came from a prolonged boxing match. But given a choice, he'd rather be a lover than a fighter, especially when it came to men who wore a few battle scars of their own.
His rising cock broke the surface of the water. He couldn't help it. It seemed to take nothing more than a stiff breeze to make him hard these days. Not that he'd had any problems in that department before. His libido had always been as healthy as the rest of him.
But a wolf making his dick hard, that was something new.
And troubling.
The animal padded closer. His feet made no sound on the freshly dug earth as he approached. He sniffed the air, as if he could smell Chase's arousal. Well, he probably could. Dogs had an excellent sense of smell. He imagined wolves weren't all that different.
Or maybe it was the fresh water the animal wanted? Not that it was all that fresh after mixing with the dirt, but the sediment Chase had stirred up by sitting in his "tub" had finally settled, leaving a relatively clean layer on top. "Go on then," Chase invited.
The wolf lowered his muzzle to the surface between Chase's bent knees and lapped up a tongue-full. He paused and cocked his head at Chase, as if asking permission to continue.
"Sure, buddy. Have as much as you like." After all, how much could the creature really take? The water would eventually drain into the packed soil under him, but they could both enjoy it as long as it lasted.
Except as his tongue snaked out for another drink, Chase found himself imagining other things that long, agile tongue could do. He closed his eyes to block out the image, but it only intensified his need for sexual satisfaction.
Raw, hard fucking. That's what he craved. It had been awhile. After clawing his last lover so deeply the man required a few stitches to close the worst of the wounds, Chase knew he couldn't trust himself to be intimate with someone in his current condition. Fortunately, he had a vivid imagination and for a short time he could fool himself into thinking that he wasn't entirely alone whenever he jerked off.
He closed his mind to everything but the sensations reported by his body. The water now warmed by the afternoon sun cradled him from the waist down. The bottom of the shallow pool had shifted under his weight to form the perfect cushion for his body. A lazy breeze occasionally blew across his chest, teasing his nipples into sharp points. He hadn't yet shaved today, and the stubble scraped his palms as he brought a bit of water to his face and scrubbed.
His hands slid down his neck, then across his chest. He tugged on his nipples, hard, liking the biting pain such rough treatment brought. His cock flexed with a bone-deep craving to rut like the wild beast he feared he was becoming. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slide further down into the water, almost lying down now, and start stroking his cock in a tight-fisted grip.
He'd temporarily forgotten about his guest until a cold nose softly touched his balls. Chase flinched, then forced himself to hold perfectly still. The wolf was just drinking, right? No need for alarm.
Still stroking himself, although now with more reserve, Chase propped his feet up on the sides of the tub to give them both a bit more room. He wasn't entirely surprised when the wolf brushed against him again. His soft head tickled the inside of Chase's thighs. He could easily fool himself into believing it was a man's thick pelt of hair.
"Lick me," he urged his imaginary lover.
The next touch he felt was a broad, long tongue flicking over his balls. Chase groaned and arched under the erotic caress. It was more abrasive than he was used to, but it suited his desire for rough treatment.
"That's it, baby. Lick me again."
Alarm bells were going off in the back of his brain. He knew this was wrong in almost every way. He was no animal, and taking advantage of one went against every moral fiber left in his body. His libido, however, didn't particularly care. The wolf was getting him off and he needed that release almost as much as he needed to breathe. Maybe if he just kept his eyes shut and just thought of him as a really hairy guy...
The agile tongue slapped against his tightening sac. A cold nose nudged his hand out of the way. Chase couldn't figure out what the creature was after, but he moved anyway. He slipped his hands under his thighs and parted his butt cheeks so he could reach the tiny, empty opening there. A moment later, he slipped one digit inside, up to the first knuckle, stretching himself open.
The wolf whined softly, then ran his tongue up the length of Chase's full, pulsing shaft. The head glistened with pre-cum. It was soon licked away, thoroughly. As if he'd done it before and knew what would pleasure a man the most.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, the insistent voice in his head chanted. Chase knew that, and still he couldn't quite bring himself to shove the animal away.
The whining grew louder, almost shrill. He was so fucking close to coming that he almost didn't notice. If the wolf wanted to howl, that was just fine with him. He might even join in. But the sound hurt his ears and he finally opened his eyes to see what was causing such a fuss.
The wolf was poised between his legs, now alert. Reality came crashing down on Chase like a ton of bricks. The cops were coming, with sirens blaring.
And he was getting a blowjob from a wild wolf.
"Oh, fuck, no." Panic made Chase kick out wildly.
The wolf was unprepared for the sudden attack so Chase's heel connected solidly with the animal's chest. Although the beast was a lot heavier than Chase anticipated, the wolf went flying back to land on a fallen log. He let out a surprised whimper then whirled around on Chase, his ears back and fangs very much in evidence.
"Get the hell away from me," Chase screamed at him. "Leave me the fuck alone!"
He got to his feet and picked up a good-sized rock. He let it fly, hitting the animal on the shoulder. The wolf shied back. His head tilted, confusion swam in his amber eyes. He took a step forward, but Chase armed himself with another rock. He wasn't playing around.
The wolf seemed to get the message and backed off to the edge of the trees. The siren was so loud now that Chase's head was ringing with the noise, creating a monster of a headache. The wolf shook his head as if his ears too were bothering him. He barked once. Chase heard the warning in it, but didn't really give a shit what the wolf was trying to say. He'd gone way too far this time, and it scared the hell out of him. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to see that furry face again. "Leave, and don't come back. You hear me?"
Sick bastard. Chase wasn't sure if he was referring to himself or the wolf.
He didn't really have time to think about it. The siren ended with an aborted chirp and he heard the sound of a car door slam.
He had company.
At least one rib was broken from slamming into that stump, and his shoulder stung like a bitch, but Casper wasn't willing to retreat to lick his wounds yet. He was in no shape to confront the sheriff or one of his goons, but he was pretty sure the man-pup wasn't aware of the danger they represented. If he'd known, he'd never have tried to go charging after them last night.
Not that his own behavior had been much better. The foundling had offered himself up like an erotic buffet. It appealed to the animal in Casper and, he was surprised to find, the remnants of humanity in him. On a soul-deep level, the man-pup called to him. Once he'd begun his seduction, Casper had been blind to everything but the taste and feel of the man.
Dumb ass.
He knew better. He really did. And smelling the girl on the man-pup's body should have cued him in that trouble was coming. Instead of pouncing on him like he was a raw steak, Casper should have headed straight for Martin.
And now that the foundling had drawn O'Grady's attention, things were only going to get worse. Fast.
This innocent man-pup had to shift. Casper didn't think they could afford to wait for nature to take its course. Keeping Martin out of this was no longer an option. Not that the scientist would mind. Casper just didn't like subjecting him to further risk. His situation was precarious enough as it was. But someone had to talk to the man-pup. Someone who wouldn't scare the hell out of him. Casper knew even if he shifted to human form he'd be the stuff of nightmares come to life. The foundling would have enough to cope with. He didn't need Casper's ugly, scarred body to remind him of all the things that could go wrong with his new life.
O'Grady's voice drifted through the jungle to his ears. It was a struggle to suppress the low growl building in the back of his throat. Fight or flight? The age old war flared inside him, but the answer was pretty damn clear. He had to involve Martin. Now.
Though it went against every protective instinct in his body, Casper turned his back on the man-pup. If he moved fast enough, perhaps Martin could get to him before O'Grady did him any permanent damage.
"Trouble?" a lazy drawl asked from behind him.
Chase spun around, his still-erect shaft slapping his pelvis as he did. He found himself facing the sheriff he'd seen at the convenience store. "Rabid dog. Ran him off."
Since there was nothing he could do to cover his nakedness, Chase didn't bother trying. This seemed to earn him a grudging amount of respect from the man who wore his khaki summer uniform as if it made him bulletproof. "There's a few of 'em around here. I wouldn't let them get too close, if I were you."
Too late. "Thanks for the warning."
"Just doing my job. I'm Rex O'Grady. I'm the sheriff around here."
Chase nodded, but didn't offer his name or his hand.
"You know why I'm here?"
"Doin' a little fishing, I expect."
The sheriff smiled. "Could be, could be. There's some nice crappie in these waters."
"Some nice gators in these waters too," Chase pointed out. "Or there would be if the damn poachers would leave them alone."
The sheriff's eyes narrowed, and Chase immediately felt the chill wind rolling off the man in waves. Apparently poaching wasn't a subject he discussed lightly. "You've seen poachers around here?"
"Just last night," Chase replied. "Took a gator, smashed her nest." Rage boiled through him just thinking about it. His fists clenched at his sides.
"Did you get a good look at them?"
"No." Damn it.
The sheriff's position subtly relaxed. "I wouldn't get too close to them either. The locals around here don't take kindly to strangers butting into their business."
Was he actually protecting those guys? "You mean I should just ignore them and they'll go away?"
Rex laughed and shook his head. "No, of course not. I'm saying you should call me to deal with them."
"I will, next time I'm near a phone."
"You could always tell Lexi whenever you come to town."
"Lexi?"
"Alexis, the little blond you were talking to at the store today."
Oh, shit. Well, Chase couldn't say he was surprised that the sheriff had tracked him down after the way he'd run off. But he couldn't prove a thing. The ice was gone. The bags they came in had been melted down in the small fire he kept continually burning.
As for hitting the woman, Chase had no plans to admit he'd seen a thing. Jackie, of course, would take care of the situation. He didn't need to be involved at all.
"She's a bit upset with you," the sheriff said conversationally.
Since he couldn't incriminate himself if he didn't say anything, Chase merely raised his eyebrow.
"Says you ran off before she could give you her number."
Huh? Chase thought fast and furiously, then leapt on the most logical answer and prayed he wasn't making a huge mistake. "No, I got her number. Got it and lost it, well before I left the city limit."
"You sure? Pretty girl like that can make a guy lose his train of thought. Like forgettin' to pay for stuff he had in his hands when he left."
Chase didn't question why he was so protective of the girl that he'd drive all the way out here to make a point. He also didn't think it was a good idea to admit he had no interest in her because he was gay. That could just stir up trouble of an entirely different kind. Instead, Chase said, "Accidents happen. Nothing to get upset about, right?"
The pregnant tension lasted until the slam of another car door warned him that he had someone new to contend with. This place was damn hard to find by the mostly overgrown, gravel road that twisted through the Louisiana swamp. He wondered how it was that so many people suddenly knew how to locate him.
The man who strode into the small clearing was quite a surprise. He looked more like a Scottish laird walking about his highland hills than the swamp-happy Cajun type Chase had seen in the area. His fair skin had been burned a hundred times over, turning it to a weather beaten tan wherever it showed through the thin but extensive layer of clothing. His thick, long brown hair was wildly mussed. He had on hiking boots and a belt that carried a bunch of pockets and gadgets.
"Martin, what brings you out this way?" the sheriff said in greeting.
"Hello, Rex. Thought I'd stop in and give my new neighbor a hand."
Martin wasn't the most handsome creature under the sun, but he was certainly worth a second look. Chase had never seen him before in his life. How could he have possibly known that Chase had moved in?
He noticed the sheriff wasn't entirely glad to see him. It was another subtle reaction, just a shift in his stance, a tilt of his head. There was also something wolf-like about Martin. Though he wasn't on particularly friendly terms with wolves these days at least he knew they didn't mask their feelings. Chase's gut quickly decided this guy was more trustworthy than the law dog.
"Setting traps?" Rex asked.
Martin replied, "Doin' a little educatin'. City boy like him needs to learn his ass from his elbow if he's turning swamp rat."
The sheriff looked from one to the other, and seemed to decide that backing off for now was better than sticking around. "Stay out of trouble, boys. I've got a fresh gator steak at home, waiting for the grill. I don't want to have to miss out on that fine eatin' because you've gone and done something stupid."
Rex tipped his hat in a gentlemanly fashion as he walked back to his SUV. Chase waited until the engine started to fade before he turned to his other unexpected guest. "Now, Martin, suppose you tell me just who the hell you are and why you're really here."
"Martin Pejeau. And what might your name be?"
"Chase. Michael Chase." He used it before, so he might as well be consistent. "That still doesn't answer my question about why you're here."
"I heard the sheriff was paying you a visit, thought I might be able to help."
"What makes you think I can't handle the sheriff on my own? Why do you even care what happens to me?"
"You and I have a lot to talk about, and I thought saving your ass would be a good way to start. After all, trust has to start somewhere."
"I don't trust you any more than I trust him. You just --" smell better, he almost said. He clamped his teeth shut in self-disgust. Martin smelled like the wolf. There was nothing good about that.
"Regardless, I must ask you to come with me."
"Hell no." This day was getting just a little too weird. He needed peace and quiet to sort it all out.
"You must."
Chase put his hands on his hips, trying to look defiant. He suspected the fact that he remained naked while Martin was fully dressed made the gesture far less effective than he'd hoped. "Give me one good reason why I should."
From one of the pockets on his belt, he extracted a bloody rag and held it out. "You have a debt to pay."
"I don't owe you shit. I don't even know you."
"Not me, but you did injure someone today."
The wolf. The creature's howl of pain still echoed in his mind. That's why Martin smelled so familiar. He'd been carrying part of the wolf with him. One mystery solved, but another remained. Who was Martin, and why did he insist that Chase had to leave with him?
And when had his sense of smell become so acute that he could identify individual scents more than ten feet away?
"What are you? A park ranger or something? You going to arrest me for cruelty to animals?"
Martin shook his head. "I'm a doctor, of sorts. I could really use your help with the wolf. He's hurt pretty bad."
"Why do you think I had something to do with it?" And why do you think I'll care?
A genuine smile crossed his face. "He told me."
"You're crazier than I am." Chase turned his back on the man and walked into his hut. It was beginning to look like he was going to have to abandon it and find somewhere else to live. Too many people knew where to find him. Even one was too many, especially when that one was the sheriff. Jackie would corner the man eventually and he could lead her right to his door. Chase didn't want that to happen. He loved his sister, but he refused to let her bail him out of trouble this time. His mood was too unpredictable, his mind too unstable. He would not put Jackie's life at risk. It was the very least he could do for her.
But what alternative did he have? Hike deeper into the swamp? His instincts had guided him well so far, but could he really live out there on his own? Would he lose what little humanity remained if he further immersed himself in the animal world?
The prospect didn't bother him nearly as much as it should.
And that scared him.
Scared him enough to consider a third possibility. Going with Martin. He didn't believe for a second that the wolf had told Martin where to find him. Chances were the man had followed a trail of blood or something, then made a few logical deductions that proved to be right. It was entirely possible the good doctor was lying about the wolf's injuries altogether.
Remember the smell. Okay, so the wolf had been around him recently. There were plenty of explanations for that. And it didn't matter where he went, so long as it wasn't a place his sister was likely to find him. If Martin could assure him of that, maybe there was room to work out a deal.
After putting on his shorts and T-shirt and pocketing the few items Jackie could definitively link to him, Chase went back outside to find Martin patiently waiting. "Are you ready to go then?" he asked, as if the conclusion was inevitable.
"That depends on where you plan to take me."
"My lab."
"You keep the wolf in a lab?"
Martin laughed. "Are you kidding? I don't 'keep' him at all. But right now he needs me. And you. So he's waiting for us, at my lab."
"You talk about him like you know him. As if he has a personality."
"Yes, I do and, believe me, he does."
Chase found himself liking the doctor despite his lack of full disclosure about his motives for wanting Chase's company. "Where is this place?"
Martin smiled again, a bit sheepish this time. "I won't tell you that unless you agree to go with me. It probably wouldn't mean anything to you anyway, since you're not from around here. I can't even promise to keep you safe. Casper is a wild creature, and there's a chance you'll come to harm while you're around him."
Chase surmised he was speaking from experience. He wondered just how close he and this wolf were, and if that's where the wild animal had developed a taste for manflesh. Jealousy flared hot and bright, and Chase decided he was no longer interested in talking about the wolf. "I'm not asking for promises. I'm just looking for a place to lay low for a while, a place where no one can find me."
"Now that I can promise you."
Chapter 6 -- Going Somewhere?
Chase doubted the wisdom of his decision once a second since he slid into the jeep next to Martin. He was even more skeptical when Martin pulled up in front of an old cemetery. "You do experiments on corpses?"
"Yeah, I do." Martin got out and headed to the front of the jeep where he waited for Chase to join him.
"Uhmm... fresh corpses?"
Martin laughed. "You think I brought you here to kill you? I could have done that in the swamp and saved us both the car ride."
"Not with the sheriff around."
"We can stand here and argue about my motives, or we can go inside and help the wolf," Martin said, his patience seemingly at an end. "Guess which one gets my vote?"
He turned his back on Chase and headed toward one of the tall stone crypts. Figuring his chances with the strange man were about the same as his chances of surviving alone in the deep swamp, Chase slipped out of the jeep and jogged after him.
"So what is this place really?"
The rusty hinges didn't protest as much as Chase expected when Martin pushed open the door to the stone tomb. "Just what it looks like."
"It looks like I'm about to be fitted for a six-foot by two-foot bed."
Martin laughed. "I hope you don't much mind bein' disappointed."
"I could stand it, I think."
Martin lit a lantern sitting on the coffin in the center of the room. There was barely enough space to walk around. Martin nudged him toward the back of the enclosure, and Chase was immediately distracted by the tangle of spider webs that stuck to his hair and back.
"This place has been around a long time," Martin said as he fussed with something Chase couldn't see from where he stood. "Swamp land isn't good for buildin'. Too soft. It isn't all that unusual to see a coffin get spit out of the earth when it rains hard. But my great-granddaddy, he was a builder. Figured there had to be a way to use up some of that space under our feet."
"So he built a cemetery?"
"He built a hell of a lot more than that." Martin grabbed the lantern and stepped back.
Silently and steadily the lid of the coffin opened, as if being raised by hydraulic jacks. Chase stopped batting at the sticky strands. He'd never been more creeped out in his life.
Except maybe that morning when he'd realized just what the wolf was doing to him.
The wolf.
The wolf was in a coffin?
"No fucking way," Chase told the crazy doctor.
"What?"
"Whatever it is you have in mind. I want out. Now."
"Can't open the crypt door when the coffin lid is up," Martin informed him. "Clever, my granddaddy was."
Apparently some of those brains trickled down to the grandson too. Martin had him neatly boxed in. He could try to figure out all the mechanisms that would gain him his freedom, or he could keep going along with Martin's plan. Neither idea sounded ideal to Chase, but then little about this current life was.
He must have kicked puppies in a former life to be worthy of all this bad juju now.
"Coming?"
The question jolted Chase out of his musings. Martin was now on top of the coffin's base, looking inside the container as if he were about to dive in. "You want me to get in there? With you?"
Martin smiled at him as he put one leg over the side. "Yeah. I do."
Chase watched him disappear with the lantern. He seemed to be going down a ladder rather than stretching out to lie down. His absence gave Chase room to move. When he circled the coffin, he found Martin looking up at him from a black pit. The coffin was bottomless.
"Clever," Chase admitted.
"Come on then. Casper's getting tired of waiting."
"Casper?"
"Your wolf."
"He has a name?"
Martin apparently reached the bottom and stepped back a bit to give Chase room. "Sure. Don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm not..." Chase no longer knew what he was, so he just shut up.
"Don't bother with the lid. I'll go take care of things after you make yourself at home down here."
That would be around the second coming of Christ.
Everything in his mind was screaming at him to leave, to chip away at the stone walls with his bare hands if he had to. His gut told him to trust the wolf and his doctor friend. It defied all logic, and yet Chase found his body moving to join his mysterious host before he'd even realized he'd made the decision.
It was muggy and hot inside the pit. Mineral rich loam seeped through the wooden slats that created the walls. He could stand up, but his hair scraped the uneven ceiling as Martin led him down a dim corridor.
"Where does the fresh air come from?" Chase wondered aloud.
"Air vents, weather permitting," Martin tossed over his shoulder. "Generator when it doesn't."
The rooms they passed were too dark to see much. Chase relied more on his nose to give him clues about their purpose. One harbored chemicals, the kind that fit Martin's assertion that this place served as a lab. Another held a strong scent of Martin himself. Perhaps a bedroom or an office, where he'd spent a lot of his time. The next in line was a storeroom, then they passed a collection of cages that had held a multitude of different animals. Most of them were gone now, but their scent still lingered. And then, a few steps further down the dark hall, he smelled sex...
Raw, in-your-face sex.
And not just by one couple, but rather by a series of individuals, both male and female. It was as if he were inhaling the air that had witnessed hundreds of orgies.
Chase paused, momentarily stunned by the overpowering rush that smell brought to his body. A burning heat seared his nerve endings. His skin itched, his cock throbbed and it became almost impossible to focus on anything but the intense, erotic sensations nipping at his nervous system.
"In here," Martin said, stepping sideways to let Chase enter the room before him.
Unintentionally Chase brushed against him. Warm, firm muscle met his arm. It set off electric sparks in his already overloaded system. His knees started to buckle.
Martin caught him around his waist. "Whoa, you okay?"
Chase turned to reply, but his voice died in his throat. He was a bit shorter than Martin, and coming face to face with the meat of his shoulder rendered Chase speechless. He wanted to sink his teeth into it, to feel the flesh part under the pressure of his jaws...
A low growl convinced him that would be a very bad idea.
"Now, Casper, don't get your hackles up. I'm just helpin' the man," Martin said gently.
Chase managed to separate himself from Martin and face the wolf. The brute was bigger than he remembered, or maybe it was the small room that made him look larger than life. And damn healthy for a creature that was supposedly injured so badly that it would take two men to attend to him.
"Why isn't he caged up?" Chase asked, unable to look away from the wolf's amber eyes.
"Because he's no threat to you or me." Martin walked over to the large animal. The wolf growled a warning. "Oh, stop that. I'm tryin' to prove a point to our friend Chase here."
The wolf tolerated Martin's caress of the fine black fur between his ears. Once. When the man attempted to touch him again, the creature snapped at him. Chase could tell he wasn't really trying to harm Martin. Nonetheless, he took the warning seriously. No petting the puppy. Got it.
Not that he planned on getting all that close to the wolf again. His memories of their time together earlier in the day still haunted the back of his mind. He'd never forget, nor would he ever forgive himself.
"He doesn't look like he's in pain," Chase commented, still wary about what Martin really wanted from him.
"Wait until he moves around."
Martin went to the far wall and fiddled with something he found there. Seconds later the room erupted in light.
"Hey!" Okay, maybe it wasn't quite as bright as a solar flare, but it felt that way to his sensitive eyes. Chase blinked rapidly while they adjusted.
The wolf emitted a series of whines and barks, and Chase had a feeling he too was protesting the abrupt change.
"Yeah, well, I don't have your keen eyesight so I need more light. Sorry." Martin withstood another barrage of what passed for lupine conversation, then added, "You need stitches. Would you prefer I sew your muzzle shut instead of your shoulder?"
The wolf lunged, jaws snapping, but Martin neatly evaded him. Either the injuries were slowing the creature down or he hadn't intended to do any serious damage. Obviously the two were comfortable around each other. For some reason, that made Chase extra nervous.
The wolf continued to whine at Martin.
"No, I'm not going to chain him up, Casper," Martin said, sounding exasperated. "Not everyone appreciates being treated like an ignorant slave."
"Chain me up?"
Martin winced. "To keep you safe. I don't think it's necessary, but Casper disagrees."
Fuck this, Chase thought. Being locked up in a loony bin is better than staying with crazy people who take orders from rabid dogs. He started edging away, toward the exit. "Right, well, I think --"
In the next instant, the big beast hit him in the side and toppled him over. He pinned Chase to the ground by lying on top of him with one heavy paw on each shoulder. Chase tried to move his face so he wasn't inhaling doggy breath, but that only rubbed his face in more fur.
Chase struggled to breathe in without getting more of that intoxicating lupine scent into his lungs. Every time he so much as thought about gathering energy to escape, the animal let more weight settle on his diaphragm, easing up only when Chase relaxed.
He coughed until the hair tickling his throat was expelled. "We have to stop meeting like this."
"He wouldn't be so aggressive if you were more cooperative," Martin told him.
"Right. It's my fault because I have a problem with being locked up while this creature is free to jump anyone he chooses." Chase glanced up into the haunting, yet strangely comforting yellow eyes. "Are you sure he doesn't have rabies?"
Martin chuckled. "Quite."
"Then why does he keep tackling me?"
"Maybe he likes being on top of you."
"Not funny," Chase muttered. The wolf seemed to agree, giving the other man a warning growl.
Martin addressed the wolf. "I'll stop teasing him when you stop babying him. Chase has a strong mind. I say let him use it. Agreed?"
Chase couldn't say he heard the wolf answer, but he did understand the wolf was against the proposal. How could he possibly know that? Part of him wanted to pursue it, the other half of him wanted to cut and run, and never look back.
Martin continued to argue with his furry friend. "That's because you are one. The rest of us don't think like you do."
Another pause where Chase felt frustration and certainty coming from the wolf was followed by the doctor's response. "I agreed to help you, and I will. My way, first. If he doesn't respond to sweet reason, then we'll try yours. Now, let him up."
Chase picked up on the wolf's reluctant consent to that suggestion. It was all the warning he needed. As the wolf shifted his weight off Chase's chest, Chase shoved him away with both hands.
He'd grown stronger than he'd realized, and the large animal crashed into the stone wall with a sickening thud. The creature yipped in pain. The sound tore at Chase's heart, but he had to take his shot at freedom. He lunged for the door and raced down the hall toward the rickety wooden ladder. He heard the sounds of the other two giving chase, but he didn't slow down to see how close they were.
Too close, it turned out as he felt the barrel of a gun invade the privacy of his ass before he hit the third rung. "One more step, Chase, and I guarantee you'll learn a whole new way to get fucked."
He didn't think Martin was lying. The wolf, as far as Chase could tell, didn't seem to think the doctor was bluffing either. "What's the deal? I thought you were all for sweet reason. Not exactly the hallmark of Smith and Wesson."
"That was before I learned you have more balls than brains."
With the gun pressing against his ass in a thoroughly disconcerting way, Chase felt another hand slipping below the waist of his jeans shorts. "Hey, now. You already got a good peek at my balls today. How is it my fault if you misjudged them?"
The wolf laughed, or at least Chase thought he did. It was hard to tell as the impression was quickly smothered by a wave of pain.
"The size of your balls didn't interest me then. Now they do." Martin tugged on Chase's waistband. "Get down here."
The wolf added a silent echo to Martin's demand. Chase might have blown off the man, but the animal compelled him to obey in a way he didn't like or understand.
Reluctantly, Chase backed down the ladder and faced his captors with his hands up in a position of surrender. "Now what?"
"Finally, a reasonable question." Martin goosed him with the gun.
Chase took the hint and started walking down the dark hall. "You gonna give me a reasonable answer?"
"I suppose that depends on your definition of reasonable."
All this verbal sparring was starting to get on his nerves. He'd never been one to solve problems with his fists, but the idea was seriously tempting him where Martin and his furry friend were concerned. "Reasonable, as in logical to the average human."
"None of us are average, Chase. That's the first thing you have to accept about this situation."
Martin directed him to the room where they'd originally found the wolf. The animal padded in after him, noticeably limping. Martin followed last. The barrel of the gun never wavered from Chase's chest.
"Ripped it open again, didn't ya?" Martin asked the wolf.
The animal sat on his haunches but said nothing. His eyes were on Chase, as if considering whether he might try to bolt again.
"You need stitches," Martin insisted.
The wolf shook his head, not in a human fashion but Chase had a feeling he still meant no.
"I got a tranq dart that says you will..."
Martin was holding him hostage with a tranquilizer gun? God, this was turning into a B-class midnight special.
The wolf barked sharply, apparently vetoing Martin's suggestion.
"Too bad. Go willingly, or go quietly. Your choice, brother."
Chains... first.
The words came into Chase's mind like whispers out of a dark, empty room. He strained to hear more, wondering if all that physical activity had taken his swamp fever to a new level.
"Yeah, all right. I don't like it, but I see your point." Martin took a step toward Chase, forcing him to take a step back. "Sorry, Chase, but Casper insists that you're shackled before he'll submit to medical attention."
"Too bad," Chase replied. He didn't much care for the way he'd been treated so far. Being chained up wasn't going to make things any better. "I'm not going to let you hold me prisoner here."
"Tranq darts work just as well on humans as they do on Casper, you know," Martin said, conversationally.
Can't... shift... soon.
What was the creature trying to say? Chase couldn't puzzle it out.
Martin sighed. "As you can see, there's just no reasoning with him when he gets like this. You'll have to be restrained, Chase. You'll find the chain already bolted to the floor, under the cot behind you."
"I don't think so." He wasn't afraid of a dart gun. He could use a nice long nap. He just didn't want to be shackled for the duration.
The wolf growled and rose to all fours.
Okay, that was a little more serious. Those long teeth could do him major bodily harm.
Chase took a step back. The wolf advanced, snarling and limping. He didn't seem to be saying anything in particular this time, and Chase found that worrying. Why would he go back to acting like a normal animal just now?
"You better protect your gonads if you don't want to end up singing soprano," Martin said, amused. "This one fights dirty, especially when he's pissed. And I'd say he's a mite unhappy right now."
"Call him off then."
"You'll agree to being bound?"
"There's no need. I'm no threat to you."
"We've had this conversation. It won't end differently this time. Now grab the chain and lock it around your ankle. Casper is drippin' blood all over the floor, and it's startin' to annoy me."
Chase thought he could delay his imprisonment a little longer, but doubted it would matter much in the end. He wasn't going to escape. Not now. And if he secured the chain himself, maybe he could keep it loose enough so that he could free himself later.
He found the chain, under the bed as Martin had said. One end appeared to be bolted to the wall. He tugged on the other end, sliding the length out into the open. There was an old-fashioned leg iron at the end. Both were rusty. "You think this is going to hold me?"
"It's held bigger men than you," Martin informed him. "Hurry up."
Chase shrugged, figuring it wasn't his problem if the man underestimated the strength of the metal. He clamped the binding around his leg. It was a tighter fit than he'd expected. The rough surface would certainly cut into his skin if he moved around too much. Since the other end was bolted to the wall, he didn't think that was going to be a problem.
Suddenly the wolf slumped to the floor. Instead of slowly sinking, he looked as if all remaining strength had deserted him and he just collapsed. Martin set the gun down and started cursing. "Stubborn old coot. I knew you were in worse shape than you were letting on."
Such a vibrant creature looking so still and lifeless unsettled Chase. He didn't want the wolf to be dead. "Is he gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, sure. This time." Martin grabbed a bowl and filled it from a supply of bottled water. He placed that on the floor next to the wolf. "Start cleaning away the blood so I can see what I'm doing."
"You want me to get close to him? After all that growling?"
"Yeah. I brought you here to help him, remember?"
"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe." He shook his foot, causing the chain to rattle.
"That was Casper's decision," Martin replied, as if he'd had nothing to do with it. He quickly snatched a handful of medical supplies from the shelves at the opposite end of the room, then sank to the floor. "If you're not going to help, then get out of my light."
Chase hesitated. He didn't like to see any creature in pain. He really didn't like the fact that he'd apparently been the one responsible for inflicting said pain on this particular creature. However, the coppery, rich scent of blood was doing odd things to his stomach. And then there were those teeth...
"Yeah, I know it hurts," Martin said as the wolf growled softly. "The blood is caked onto your fur. Just quit whining and let me --"
Martin turned his head to the side and retched. He no sooner turned back to his task than he convulsed again. This time, he didn't stop until he reached the sink at the other side of the room and emptied the contents of his stomach.
Chase watched the wolf rather than the man.
The wolf made a soft noise in his throat. Not a growl, more like a plea. Help him.
Whether Chase imagined the words or not, the wolf's request did what Martin's arguments alone could not. Instinct and heart overruled logic, and Chase dropped to his knees. He took up where Martin had left off, cleaning out the wound so it didn't get infected.
The fur felt thick and warm under his fingers as he worked. He remained alert for the slightest indication that the wolf would turn on him. Amber eyes tracked his movements just as closely, but apparently a truce had been called. Neither of them seemed willing to break it.
"Thanks," Martin said, when he returned a few minutes later. "I can handle sewin' skin together, but the sight of an open wound gets me every time."
The rest of the messy job went quickly after that. Chase shifted position, moving toward the wolf's head so he didn't get in the way. He reached out to stroke Casper's muzzle, wondering if it was just as soft as the rest of him. He stopped as soon as he recalled the way the wolf had reacted to Martin's petting, and curled his fingers into a fist.
The wolf's wet nose nudged his hand.
"Well, I'll be..." Martin said, tying off the surgical thread.
"What?" Chase asked him.
"I'd take him up on that invitation to pet him if I were you. It may be the only one you'll ever get."
Martin withdrew, taking the detritus of the minor procedure with him. Chase eased closer, slowly uncurling his fingers. The wolf nudged him harder, and Chase was strongly tempted to stretch out next to the animal and wrap himself around him. The thought brought a painful throb to his stiff cock.
Suddenly he sensed someone approaching and his head snapped up to see Martin standing a few feet away. He held something in his hand that he tossed toward the wolf. Casper rolled onto his belly and surrounded it with his huge paws. With his head lowered, he began to eat the dead rabbit.
And Chase's stomach growled.
"Hungry? There's more where that came from."
"You think I'm going to eat raw meat like that? No way." His body wasn't paying any more attention to his protests than Martin was. His mouth watered, his belly ached to be filled. He could almost taste the meat on his tongue...
Martin dangled a haunch in front of his face. "Here. Try it."
Chase scrambled back. "Fuck that."
"It's an option," Martin said genially. "But that's not going to take care of your hunger pains, now is it?"
"I'm not some wild animal," Chase protested.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Positive." Except he wasn't, really. He hadn't been for days now. Something was taking over his mind. He didn't know how or why, and he certainly wasn't stupid enough to walk up to a doctor and ask for an explanation, but it was obvious that his behavior was far from normal for most humans.
"You're lying." Martin dropped the second rabbit beside the wolf. "You're scared, you're confused, and your body is sending you signals your mind doesn't know what to do with."
"So?"
"So you're about to become a werewolf. Congratulations."
Casper knew words weren't the way to convince Chase. His DNA was already half wolf. That's the part of the man-pup they needed to connect with. Human logic would only get in their way.
Humans talk too much, he yipped to Martin.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Martin replied.
I no longer remember.
"You no longer want to remember. A different thing entirely."
Nothing positive would come out of pursuing that topic, so Casper dropped it. He picked up on Chase's rapidly shifting mood instead. Irritation and fear slid into anger and confusion once again. His body chemistry was playing merry hell with every biological system as it tried to sort itself out, find a happy state. Soon he would shift, becoming what he was meant to be. Casper waited for it with grim patience, knowing far better than the tortured man-pup that shifting would be both a blessing and a curse.
Chase started pacing the floor like the caged predator he was. "You're talking to the wolf again."
Martin nodded. "You can too."
"No, thanks. I'd rather not." He slid his hands into the back pockets of his shorts. The soft fabric molded to his hips, outlining his rising sex.
Another side effect of the genetic alterations going on under his skin. Once the foundling practiced, the change would happen so fast that the side effects would be momentary rather than perpetual. However, his body had been working itself up to this point for weeks, maybe even months. Chase's cock would rise regardless of what the rest of him wanted right now.
That was why being around him was so dangerous. A thin line separated sex from violence when one's emotions were fluctuating faster than the air pressure during a thunderstorm. His human brain had to process input from the heightened animal senses, which only became more intense the closer he got to his first shift. No doubt about it, the first transformation sucked.
All the more reason to get it over with.
Explain, then go.
Martin shook his head. "He's already broken three of your ribs. You can't handle him alone."
Better than you can. Not even Martin could argue against that. History had recorded his failures, most written by his own hand. His friend had a big heart and often assumed the rest of the world did too. Casper adhered to the law of the jungle, classifying every creature he met as foe or fodder. Between the two of them, Casper was disappointed far less.
"Together we stand, divided we fall," Martin replied cryptically.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Chase demanded.
Tell him.
Martin rubbed his hand over his glossy black hair. "It means, Chase, that I trust this wolf with my life. You'd be wise to do the same."
"He attacks me, and I'm supposed to trust him for it? I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid."
"You're alive, aren't you?"
"Because O'Grady came along when he did."
Casper growled, hackles raised. He didn't realize he'd been so obvious in his dislike until Martin tweaked his ear in warning.
"If you honestly believe that, then we might as well turn you loose. Then you'll be crazy and stupid."
And dead. Casper projected his thought at both men. O'Grady has already started playing his game by showing up at Chase's place. It was an attempt to force him to do something rash, to send him deeper into the bayou. To begin the game of cat and mouse that would only end when O'Grady netted him and tortured him to death.
Had the man-pup heard him this time? He stood so still, so silent. A skill Chase had learned from him.
Finally, Chase started moving again, his mouth as well as his body. "Trust the wolf. Fine. But what's the point? It's not like he can do anything to help me."
"He can, if you'll let him," Martin replied. "We both can."
"How? He's just a wolf."
Casper wanted to laugh. He'd never been just anything. Not even when he'd been a man-pup himself. Chase was no different. The mysterious were-power throbbed in his veins. It overshadowed everything he did, knowingly or not. The werewolf DNA would continue to dominate him in either form. Another lesson for the foundling to learn.
Martin also seemed amused. "When you shift, you'll be glad to have him around. I guarantee it."
"Shift. Into a werewolf. Riiiiight. Is that going to happen anytime soon? Because, you see, I kinda had other plans for the rest of my life, and I'd like to get on with them."
"Smart mouth," Martin said to Casper.
I was much the same way.
"Still are." To Chase, he drawled, "We'll try to hurry things along, just for you."
"Thanks ever so," Chase replied with saccharine venom.
Martin gestured toward the rock-strewn floor. "Make yourself comfortable."
Casper shifted position. Pain balled up in his side, but the sharp sting was gone. Good thing he healed quickly. The next few hours would test his strength as well as his patience.
Chase looked at the floor as if it was going to bite his ass when he complied with Martin's order. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Give you what you need."
The obvious sexual invitation in Martin's voice trigged a sharp jump in Chase's already heightened sex drive. The scent of his arousal kicked up Casper's own want. He hoped that, when given a choice, Chase picked the answer that would give them both what they were craving. A thorough fucking.
"I don't need anything from you. I do just fine on my own." Chase ran the flat of his hand over his sheathed erection, giving his words a dual meaning.
"If you don't shift, you'll die."
"Is that an old bayou myth? We have one back in Tacoma, too. Fuck or go blind. Funny, I haven't had real sex in months and I can still see you."
He continued to pet himself. Casper longed to do it for him. Watching was driving him crazy. But that was the whole point. Fill the room, and Chase, with lust to the point where baser instinct overrode thought, goading his inner wolf out into the open.
"It's not just a bunch of words, Chase. It's a fact. They don't come any colder or harder."
"Says you."
Martin nodded in agreement. "Me, the wolf. Even O'Grady if you could get old Rex to venture an opinion about it at all."
Chase rolled over into anger, quick as lightning. "Fine. Whatever. I'll be the good stooge and sit down so you can get on with whatever torture you have in mind. I can take it." He sat then, his legs splayed out, his hands resting on his thighs. He rocked slightly as if he simply couldn't be still.
Martin stripped off his shirt and set it on the table. "I won't have to do a thing. You'll do it for me."
"Oh yeah? Then why am I still here?"
Casper wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Martin or himself with this show of bravado. Didn't matter. Chase had a lot of life left in him. A lot of spirit. He'd be fine.
Assuming he didn't mind getting a new fur coat out of the deal.
Explain the rest. Now.
Chase must have heard the command because he glanced over at him, then went back to Martin. "What did the talking rug say?"
"He wants me to spell out your options."
Chase crossed his legs at the ankles. "I'm listening."
Martin chose a spot on the floor to put him on Chase's level. Casper got up on all fours, stretched, and then settled on his haunches next to Martin. Together we stand.
Martin flashed him a smile before he continued. "Right now, you're as close to being two separate entities as one person can be, the human side that you've lived with all your life and the animal side you've never known."
"All the more reason to keep it locked away."
"It's not going to stay hidden just because you don't feel like dealin' with it. It'll eat you alive, literally. If you're lucky, you'll go mad first. You have to accept what you are, the animal as well as the man, if you want to survive."
"I'm already nuts. This conversation proves it." Chase pinned his gaze to the ceiling.
Casper wanted to lunge for his exposed throat. Bite it. Lick it. Rest his teeth against it and make Chase submit to the inevitable.
Martin settled his arm around his furry shoulders. It didn't help calm his need. He wanted Chase to shift almost as badly as the beast inside Chase did. Then he could teach the man-pup what "doggy-style" had going for it.
"Why fight what you know to be true?" Martin asked Chase.
"Truth? We're talking about me becoming a dog. It's not normal."
Martin's voice softened to a sympathetic rumble. "For most people, I'd agree with you. You're not most people anymore. You never really were. It just took this long for your body to start figuring that out."
Sadness shadowed Chase's expression. "Jackie always knew I was different. She loved me anyway." He brushed his hand over his face. "I don't think she'd love me now."
"Who's Jackie?"
Casper wanted to hear the answer to that question too. He would bet his life on the fact that Chase was gay, one hundred percent. Who was this important woman in his life?
"She's my sister. My best friend. My business partner." Chase hung his head. "Was, I should say. I left her back in Tacoma, but somehow she managed to track me here. I can't let her find me, not like this."
"It won't always be like this. It gets easier. Some weres have families, jobs. A real life."
And some don't. Casper didn't need the trappings of humans, didn't want them. Only time would tell what kind of life would suit Chase best.
"I can't be what I was. I can't go back." Chase's voice shook, on the verge of tears.
"No," Martin agreed softly. "You can't go back. You can go on though. Let us help you do that."
Chase paled. "Wait! Jackie! Oh my God. It just occurred to me. This might happen to her too."
"What makes you think that?"
"It's happening to me, isn't it? And she's my twin."
Martin shook his head. "She's a fraternal twin rather than an identical one. In that case, it's a genetic crap shoot. Even within the same generation, some will get Bayou Fever, as you did. The urge to run off to the swamp and be one with the jungle. Others will never feel the call at all."
"Just my luck, eh?" Chase's brow furrowed with worry. "Am I going to remember her? I mean -- and I really can't believe I'm saying this -- assuming I do shift, will I remember Jackie?"
Martin nodded. "You won't lose any of your memories. Instead, you'll gain a lot of new skills. You'll still be human. You'll also be somethin' more."
"I can't believe I'm actually starting to buy into this."
"Once you shift, there'll be no denyin' it."
Casper hoped that would be the case. Many tried to pass off their wolf form as a drug-induced hallucination. That would leave his spirit divided, unable to function well as man or beast.
Chase peered up at Martin through his sweat-damp hair. "So what would I have to do? If I wanted to shift, I mean."
"Let it happen."
"That's it?"
Martin shrugged. "Pretty much. The first time, there's no controllin' it. It just... happens."
"When? How?"
"When your body's ready. How, well, that's a bit trickier. Usually when you least expect it. Durin' a fight, or in the middle of some really hot sex."
"So you plan to beat me into shifting? Is that the plan?" His hands curled into fists. "Don't think I'll make it easy for you."
"He's a hellion, this one," Martin said under his breath.
With good reason, Casper reminded him. Remember the pressure he's under.
"Just make sure you're out of range when he explodes."
Chase suddenly looked as if he were strapped to a pound of dynamite and someone had lit the fuse. "I'm gonna what?"
"Damn, you've got good ears." Martin chuckled. "Don't worry. We've done this before. We'll take care of you."
"Great. That makes me feel so much better."
"No, it won't really get better until you shift." Martin crossed his arms over his bare chest. "So what's it gonna be, Chase? Fuck or fight?"
Chapter 9 -- Come and Get It
Chase groaned as another wave of lust assaulted him. His body already knew the answer, even if his mind was slow to come around. "Fuck you," he growled.
"I approve." Martin pulled a workbench stool over and set it under one of the dim bulbs, just out of Chase's reach. "Fighting always leads to bloodshed, and you already know how I feel about that."
The wolf made a soft woofing noise as he shifted position. Can't fight, that's why.
"Stuff it, fur face. My fists have saved your ass more than once."
When used for pleasure, maybe.
Chase wondered again about the relationship between man and wolf. Never mind the fact that he now understood the wolf as though he were speaking plain English. "So what's this going to be? Some kind of animal porn? Show me how real wolves fuck, and I'll get so horny to do it doggy style that I'll actually become a dog?"
Martin shook his head as he took another trip to the dim recess of the room. "Something like that, although I'm not into puppy play."
"What are you into?" Chase was so incredibly hard his shaft had to have zipper teeth imprinted on the skin by now, and Martin hadn't done anything but talk and walk. It wouldn't take more than a stiff breeze to set him off. How was he going to avoid looking like a horny pre-teen in front of these guys? Why did he even care what these two thought of his sexual prowess?
"A good blow job, with tight suction and those slurpy noises that means my partner wants my cum bad," the doctor informed him, unabashedly.
Martin returned to the column of light with a bowl in his hand. With his free fingers he released the button at the waist of his shorts and shimmied them off. Standing in nothing but a pair of navy bikini briefs, he reached into the bowl, then brought a hand to his chest, rubbing it in circles, leaving a trail of wetness behind.
Ice. The man was teasing himself with an ice cube. Oh, fuck.
Chase's mind fuzzed over into full lust. He panted, wanting badly to chase that wet trail with his tongue, to taste the man.
"What about you, Chase? What are you into?" Martin asked, his voice a little deeper. His fingers guided the ever-shrinking cube over his nipples which pebbled into tight points.
"Come over here, and I'll show you," Chase tossed back.
"Show me what you've got and I'll consider coming over."
Was that a slight emphasis on coming? Chase didn't much care. This wasn't about Martin's gratification. It wasn't even about his own. It was about purging the lust from his system so he could have a clear head to figure a way out of this mess. He was so desperate to fuck that his skin itched. Being free of the restrictive clothing would definitely help.
He shucked his shorts and underwear in one sinuous movement, then kicked them up the chain as far as they'd go so they wouldn't get tangled in his feet when he moved. He planted his hands on his hips, his erection jutting out in a sexual salute. "Come and get it."
"Hmmm, impressive," Martin murmured.
The wolf gave a confirming yip as he retreated into the shadows at the back of the room. Though mostly hidden now, his presence grated against Chase's consciousness. Wolf, wolf, wolf... The word echoed through his mind, audible over the heavy pounding of blood flowing through his veins.
Chase's right hand dropped to his shaft, stroking the length lightly. "So what are you waiting for?"
Martin tossed the remains of the ice in his hand toward the wolf, who lapped at it with a long pink tongue. Things that tongue had done to him so recently coursed over his skin like an electric current. Chase didn't know what it was that made the memory so powerful, but it came back to him as if it were happening all over again.
"Know the purpose of a teaser mare?" Martin removed another piece of ice from the bucket, swirled it over his torso and then grazed down his chest to dampen his cock where it poked out from the waistband of his tiny briefs. The rosy blush of the sensitive tip deepened and glistened under the light. "They arouse the stallion with a less expensive mare to take the brunt of his lust so that when the brood mare is put in front of him, he's ready to go."
"If you think I'm going to shift for a woman..."
Martin choked on the ice cube he'd just put in his mouth. Even the wolf gave a derisive snort. "No, no. Of course not. My point is that you can look all you want, but you can't touch me. And, uhhh, as much as I like you, I won't be touching you either, Chase."
They weren't going to play? "It's not nice to tease the animals," he said with a hard edge. He couldn't help but be aroused by the sensual vision Martin presented. Chase's hips were pumping rhythmically now, pushing his erection through his loose fist. Pre-cum oozed from the slit in a steady stream. He could come in a matter of seconds, but it was becoming a point of honor to hold out longer than the good doctor. Perhaps the only point of honor he had left.
"Trust me, it's far kinder than the alternatives," Martin muttered grimly.
Martin slid his hand under the elastic band of his underwear and cupped his balls. His fingers had to be cold from holding the ice. The thought of chilly digits stroking his sac hardened Chase to the point of pain.
On top of his own towering lust, his nose picked up on the arousal of another. Casper. Whether it was the sight of Chase masturbating like a virtuoso or Martin's erotic teasing that aroused the creature, Chase didn't know. It was certainly curious though. Why was the wolf so interested in human sex?
And why am I just as captivated by the wolf as I am Martin?
Before the ball of disgust could lodge in his belly, another flare of desire pushed it away. Fur or flesh, Chase didn't much care. He just wanted to come, and come hard. A deep growl burst from his chest as he struggled to control his powerful, mind-consuming craving.
"Can you feel it, Chase? Do you feel the wild need to rut? Is it really a man you want now, or the teeth and furry ass of your four-footed friend?" Martin taunted.
"You. Want you." His legs were shaking. He could barely stand. He used every remaining bit of strength he had left to hold off his orgasm.
"But you can't have me, Chase."
I can.
Chase glanced in the direction of the wolf. He decided his eyes were playing tricks on him. The outline of the beast was shifting, expanding. Casper stood on four feet, then on two. His muzzle shortened. Limbs lengthened, hair disappeared. In a matter of moments, he was looking at a man.
A naked man.
Who had just seconds before been a freakin' wolf.
How fucked up was that?
"You're one of them... one of the werewolves?" Chase croaked out through his dry throat.
Casper stuck to the dark corner of the room so Chase couldn't see much of his face, or the rest of him for that matter. Just a vague outline, and the impression of muscled strength.
"I am." The voice was rough, scratchy, and not entirely human. "Martin?"
Martin stood and backed up a step but didn't turn to look at his friend. "I'm all yours."
A dark chuckle rolled out in a tangible caress. It hit Chase low in his belly and settled there, leaving him feeling intoxicated. "What about me?"
Casper's arms wrapped around Martin's stomach and drew him back against his chest. His hands roamed the broad expanse of Martin's pecs and belly. "Wolf first."
"You'll take him like a man, but I get treated like an animal?"
"Better that way," Casper muttered.
Martin relaxed with his hands at his sides, letting Casper keep his body on the edge of orgasm by stroking his cock with one hand while he plucked his nipples with the other. Moaning, he added, "You can shift. I can't, or he'd make me shift to play too. More beast than man, this one."
Wild, untamed fucking. Chase could see it all unfold in his mind. How Casper would hunt him down like a dog and teach him a lesson about raw, animalistic passion. Chase wanted that so badly right now... and yet on the deepest emotional level he still shied away from anything that would strip away his last vestiges of humanity. He was no rutting beast!
"Don't you want it, Chase?" Martin taunted. "Don't you want to know what it would feel like to have his dick pounding into your ass?"
Chase growled. "Yes!"
Martin widened his stance by inches, just enough for Casper to slip his thick erection between Martin's meaty thighs. Chase could only see the glistening tip when it nudged out from under Martin's balls. More so, he could smell the heady scent of sex in the air.
"Want to change places with me?" Martin asked him.
"Yes."
"Then shift, Chase. That's all you have to do. Shift, and your ass will belong to him."
"I'm not an animal," Chase replied through lips now dry from panting. "Man."
"You're both. Accept it," Casper said in his blunt manner.
Casper did something that made Martin's eyes roll back in his head. Chase couldn't tell what he'd done, and jealousy burned through him. Casper should be his, damn them! He was the one in pain. He was the one who needed release. He was the one who loved...
"Coming," Martin grunted.
Red hot rage poured through Chase as he watched Martin lose his load. Cum splattered across the earthen floor at his feet as his cock jerked in Casper's expert grip.
A firestorm burned through Chase's veins and his body started to cramp painfully. Pleasure bubbled up through the pain, as if his body couldn't decide whether to finish the orgasm brewing in his balls or simply combust from unrelieved lust.
"Bend over," Casper ordered to Martin.
Martin did more than that. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air as his body continued to shake with the aftershocks of orgasm. Casper too kneeled on the ground. His face remained hidden in the shadows, but Chase had a splendid view of his massive erection when it dipped between Martin's legs.
"Take me, take me," Chase pleaded, no longer caring how desperate he sounded. He pumped his cock through his hand feverishly. Sweat poured over his skin as though the muscles were bunching up so tight that they were wringing the moisture from his body. The tendons and ligaments were stretched so tight he thought they'd snap in the next second if something else didn't give first...
"Let the wolf out to play, Chase," Martin urged him.
"Fuck," Casper said sharply. "Fuck you good, pup."
And yet it was Martin who was about to receive Casper's cock. Martin who was about to be fucked within an inch of his life. Chase burned with rage... and desire...
Sharp pain split him open. Chase cried out as he felt his body shred. Muscle and tissue ripped apart only to reform and rip again. The pleasurable rush of orgasm buffeted him against the worst of it, but it was still agony. He couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe. His own heartbeat drowned out every other sound in the room until finally he collapsed on the floor in a pool of his own sweat and semen.
His muzzle sank toward the ground to nestle in his front paws, and then, before he could even begin to analyze the total wrongness of that, Chase passed out.
It took Chase several days to get used to shifting. Intense emotion still tended to trigger the change between forms, and Casper was proving adept at manipulating his emotions. Chase had to admit the werewolf was an excellent teacher though. Nightly they roamed the swamp in lupine form so Casper could give him a crash course in how to take his place in the animal kingdom.
It wasn't easy. His human thoughts often intruded when he needed to focus on being a wolf, and vice versa. Martin assured him this was a good thing, allowing both halves of himself to blend into one united creature. Chase wasn't so sure about that.
He paused and lifted his muzzle into the night air, sniffing deeply. There were so many scents to sort out. His lupine mind did it on automatic pilot, letting him know that there were several nutria about as well as the remains of a teenage drunken tailgate party.
He spent most of the time as a wolf now. His new body fascinated him. It also guaranteed that his sister wouldn't find him. He hoped she'd given up on him and gone back to Tacoma, but he also knew she could be mule stubborn at times. If she couldn't find a lead on him that would take her out of the bayou, she might never leave. Maybe he could ask Martin to --
Humans!
Casper's sharp thought scattered Chase's line of thinking. He cocked his head, listening for whatever it was that had alerted the older wolf. Normal night sounds were all he heard at first, but then the sound of a boat engine crept up on his consciousness.
Run.
The large black wolf darted to the left, taking a route that led away from the water and toward the safe haven of Martin's laboratory. Automatically, Chase started to follow his mentor, but then the loud rapport of a gun being fired stopped him short. Poachers!
Casper's mental voice reached out for him again. Run. This way.
Poachers, Chase repeated. His grasp of the wolf language was minimal, so he tried to convey his sense of outrage with a deep growl. No more death.
Not your fight, Casper sent back with an alpha's commanding stare.
My land. Must protect.
Chase didn't stick around to argue further. He took off toward the sounds of a boat motor ramping up for a speedy departure. Green leaves whipped by in a blur. Earth sprayed up in clumps behind him as his claws bit into the soft earth. He kept to the banks, knowing he'd be gator bait if he tried to take a more direct route through the swamp water.
And he got there just as the boat disappeared up the channel.
He let out a long, frustrated howl.
Fool, do you want them to hear you?
Chase spotted the glowing amber eyes of his mentor among the low-hanging mangrove branches. Yes!
You have so much to learn.
Fury raced through his veins, triggering the shift. Chase rose to his feet, naked, and confronted the wolf. "I'm not a child."
No, you're a pup.
"Even so, I know the difference between right and wrong. What they're doing is wrong. Someone has to stop them."
Why must it be you?
Casper's sexual musk drifted over to him, further angering Chase. "Cut that out! I'm tired of you trying to lead me around by my dick."
You turn me on. So what?
"So then fuck me already!" It wasn't like they hadn't had plenty of opportunities over the past few weeks. But every time they got close, Casper stubbornly clung to his lupine form and Chase wasn't ready for puppy love yet. Maybe he never would be. It seemed to be the only line he hadn't crossed between man and beast, and he stubbornly clung to that morsel of humanity.
And yet there was no other beast he wanted more than Casper, in either form. The werewolf haunted his dreams and his days. He was the alpha male in a pack of three. Martin took his orders from the wolf, but they didn't share a bed. That honor went to Chase. Except all they ever did was sleep in it.
Shift, and I'll fuck you senseless.
Angry and desperate, Chase let the quicksilver magic course through his veins, altering his appearance from the inside out. The fur had barely settled along his spine before he reversed the flow. As soon as his vocal cords formed, he said, "There. Satisfied?"
A low growl was the only warning he got before the wolf tackled him. The momentum rolled them over. When they stopped, Casper had flashed into human form and straddled him. His hands held Chase's shoulders to the damp earth. His amber eyes burned with an inner fire Chase knew he struggled to keep banked even during the best of times. "You go too far."
"You don't go far enough," Chase replied, reaching between them to stroke Casper's rigid length. The satiny skin felt cool under his fingers which were burning from the effort of two rapid shifts in quick succession.
"I do this for your own good."
Chase swept Casper's cock head with the pad of his thumb, lightly scraping it with the nail. "This isn't good?"
Casper hissed through his teeth, his whole body practically vibrating with tension. "You must be wolf in all things, as you were once human in all things."
"Why?"
"To survive."
"Am I really in imminent danger of dying because I haven't known puppy love?" Chase couldn't imagine that anything had the ability to hurt him now. Not physically. Emotionally he felt all too vulnerable around Casper, and his fear of getting hurt kept pushing him back from challenging the alpha wolf.
But not any more.
"Answer me, Casper. Am I really in danger here?"
"More than you know."
"You know what I think?" Chase skimmed his hands up Casper's ribs and pulled the man forward. Casper came hesitantly. When their lips were within inches, Chase continued, "I think you're afraid of me."
Casper's laugh came out sounding like the bark of a mad dog. "You are fierce, little one, but I do not fear you."
"You fear having sex with me." Chase raised his lips to kiss Casper's chin. "Like this."
Casper tilted his hips, rubbing his thick erection against Chase's abdomen. "Does this feel like fear?"
"No, but this does," Chase said, putting his hand over Casper's rapidly beating heart. The answer had sprung upon him, unexpected. But the more Chase considered it, the more sense it made. Casper avoided human intimacy. Even with Martin he seemed more comfortable in lupine form. He'd spent decades as a wolf, and now it seemed he feared he couldn't be human enough to satisfy a furless partner... whereas in wolf form he had fewer doubts. "Let me show you how good human lovemaking can be."
Chase arched off the ground and twisted, rolling Casper under him. The fact that Casper let it happen at all was all the consent he was likely to get. Chase wished there was more light filtering through the dark green canopy so he could see the man's face.
He leaned forward, fitting his body to Casper's large frame. His hard cock throbbed against Casper's where they were pinned between their bodies. Slowly, keeping his eyes on Casper, he lowered his head.
A half second before their lips met, a hand grabbed a handful of hair and jerked him back a few inches. "Promise you won't go looking for the hunters alone," Casper demanded roughly.
"Promise," Chase said, meaning it. He wanted to stop the poachers, badly, but he could see how foolish it had been to go charging in unprepared and alone.
The grip on his hair tightened a fraction, then their mouths came together in a heated kiss. Immediately Chase opened his mouth and welcomed Casper's thrusting tongue. His hands roamed his lover's body, trying to find a grip that would bring them closer together. And yet no matter how close they were physically, Chase knew it wouldn't be nearly enough until he felt Casper moving inside him.
He undulated against the larger man. The friction of their bodies was cooled slightly by the copious amounts of pre-cum spreading across their stomachs. In between stringing kisses along Casper's neck, Chase murmured, "Want you. Want you inside me. Real bad."
Casper's throaty growl was music to Chase's ears. He pushed himself upright, so that he sat on Casper's erection. Little teasing jerks of his hips had Casper's cock sliding between his legs, brushing against his balls.
"No lube," Casper pointed out.
Nothing could make Chase stop now. Yeah, it would be a little rough but then so was his lover. Rough, playful, caring, dominant, angry, wild. Dangerous and comforting, often at the same time. No one had ever suited Chase better. He longed for their bodies to be joined, not only to soothe the ache in his cock but also to heal the wounds Casper's constant rejection in this most intimate way had left on his heart.
"No worries," Chase finally replied.
He raised himself up on his knees, then spread his ass cheeks and lowered himself onto the massive erection Casper held in position. The plump head invaded his body with an eye watering burn. He wouldn't admit to another cause for the tears as he sank lower. His gaze locked on to Casper's shadowed, scarred face. Once Chase had asked him about the jagged lines on his left cheek and neck, but Casper had refused to answer then worked him twice as hard to keep the question from being raised again. Now Chase simply accepted them as a sign of Casper's strength and courage. He let his admiration flow out of his heart and into the man filling him with exquisite patience.
"Don't be gentle," Chase told him. "I don't need it."
Casper grabbed Chase's hips, resisting his efforts to hasten the complete joining of their bodies. "What if I do?"
"Then I'd say I'm all yours to take any way you want."
"Damn right you are," Casper growled.
Inch by inch, Casper slid into Chase's tight body. The burn persisted, as did the intense warmth of Casper's flesh, until Chase's full weight rested on Casper's groin. The tiny dark curls tickled Chase's balls with every minute movement. He felt stretched, full and, for the first time in a long time, at peace. It was the rightness he felt upon finishing a special piece of art, knowing it was somehow more than the sum of its parts.
"Move," Casper commanded.
Chase leaned back to plant his hands on Casper's muscular thighs. He pushed up, then sank back down on Casper's rigid length. Casper raised his hips to thrust deep with each stroke. His nails raked over Chase's skin, everywhere he could touch. Chase kept the pace languid and teasing. Casper's amber eyes turned almost orange as they burned so bright with lust.
"Next time, I will suck these until you beg for mercy," Casper vowed as he fondled Chase's balls with one hand.
Next time. God, it felt incredibly good to know he'd done the right thing by pushing Casper into human sex, that the werewolf was already thinking about a next time. That knowledge combined with the erotic image of Casper on his knees -- dominant and defiant as ever -- licking Chase's balls nearly caused Chase to lose all control. As it was, his rhythm faltered, and a second later he was on his back.
Casper's black, sweat-soaked hair brushed against Chase's shoulder with each pounding thrust. The animal in him was loose now, and Casper showed him no mercy. Their bodies came together with a slap that echoed through the surrounding trees. Their boisterous grunts of pleasure chased away all the fauna. They were kings of the bayou, wild and free. Chase's heart could barely stand the pressure with all the emotion he was feeling packed inside.
"Come," Casper demanded. "Come for me now."
Chase didn't get a chance to answer as Casper sealed their lips together once more. Chase wrapped his legs around Casper's waist and clung to the big man. His body trembled with the force of the contractions as his semen spurted between them in thick gouts.
With a guttural cry, Casper came too. Casper gripped his shoulders fiercely. His nails left gouges in Chase's skin. Each lunging thrust pushed him across the forest floor, driving Chase's own pleasure higher. Warm fluid filled his ass, and as much as anything else the wolf had done for him, it cemented them together as a mated pair in his mind.
The aftershocks of release were almost as potent as the main event. It took several long minutes before the all-consuming pleasure faded enough to allow them to collapse on the ground, panting yet still locked together.
Casper rolled onto his back, taking Chase with him. When they were nestled together, he stroked Chase's back with a touch so tender it made Chase's heart squeeze with love. "Tired?" Casper asked him.
"Happy," he replied.
Casper tensed under him and Chase wondered if even that small confession was admitting too much too soon. Then Casper's arms tightened around him, hugged him close. "Me too."
\*
They must have fallen asleep, Chase realized perhaps an hour later. As much as he wanted to stay in Casper's embrace, he had some personal needs to attend to. He wandered through the dense vegetation toward the water's edge. Perhaps if he shifted to wolf form there'd be no need for washing, but that seemed wrong somehow. He understood his wolf side better, thanks to Casper and Martin, but he still didn't feel quite comfortable in his new fur coat. Like learning any new skill, it would take time to get used to --
Snap!
A rope jerked him off his feet and lifted him high into the air. His head dangled over the black water, his short hair sweeping through the current. He thrashed and twisted, but he only succeeded in tightening the rope around his ankle.
Fuck! He'd been caught in one of the poachers' traps!
Chapter 11 -- Hands of the Enemy
Casper knew something was wrong the second he woke. Perhaps it was that sense of wrongness which had woken him, or perhaps he just missed the warmth of Chase's body. He'd been surprised by how good it felt to be with a man in human form, one other than Martin who occasionally fucked him out of deep friendship and compassion rather than sexual desire. Chase wanted him, that much was clear. Heaven only knew why. But for how long?
The answer would have to wait. First, he had to find Chase. Then he'd look into whatever had made the surrounding territory go so quiet.
On four padded feet he used his nose to follow his lover's trail. Calling out might have worked just as well, but wolf instincts still dominated his thinking. The trail led pretty much straight to the water. Had Chase heard something and gone to investigate even though he'd promised not to?
"Well, well. Lookie what we got here, boys. A naked ape."
O'Grady. And the loud guffaws were coming from his buddies, at least three of them. Casper paused, trying to absorb what facts he could from the conversation. O'Grady liked to play with his prey before he killed them, so there was time. As long as Chase didn't do anything foolish...
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Now cut me loose," Chase demanded.
"Oh, and it talks too," one of the men added.
"What do you think we ought to do with him, boys?" O'Grady asked.
This conversation had been played out so many times over the decades that Casper could already see where this was headed. He was thankful for the wind that would cover the slight sound of his movements until he got real close. All he had to worry about was O'Grady. Being part wolf himself, the sheriff had an uncanny knack of knowing when other creatures were around.
Through the copse of trees and vines, Casper spotted Chase dangling from the end of a rope by his ankle. Blood ran down his leg from where the rough fibers had cut into his skin. Scratches from their lovemaking remained visible on his shoulders and back, telling Casper that he hadn't shifted since he woke up. Otherwise, the marks would have healed. He looked pissed off, but not seriously injured. Yet.
"Roast 'im, boss. I bet he tastes just like chicken."
"Nah, he's a scrawny thing. No meat on 'im," another commented. "I say we chop 'im into pieces and use him for gator bait. They don't care if he's all skin and bones."
Casper trapped an angry growl behind his teeth. Chase was no chicken-legged beast. He was beautiful, both as man and as a wolf. Muscles that flexed with graceful precision, strength, a growing agility...
... and some dumbass need to single-handedly save every single creature in the swamp from O'Grady's favorite pastime -- killing things.
Now Chase himself needed saving, and for one long moment Casper wondered why he should bother. The man-pup had promised he wouldn't go after O'Grady and his men, and broken his word mere hours later. Perhaps that was partly Casper's own fault for not fully explaining the dangers, but there were some things about his past that he didn't want Chase to know. Martin had argued against it, but Casper thought he knew better. He thought he could force Chase into accepting the laws of nature, that only the strongest survive so it didn't matter what happened to the losers. They were goners anyway.
But losing Chase mattered, more than Casper thought possible.
Damn his stubborn hide.
Even with a werewolf's extra skills, it would be a difficult task to save him now. But Casper'd do it, or die trying.
"He looks kind of feral to me, boss," the last one said.
Casper's breath stilled in his throat. Markum. The man was living evil. He was the only one who could rival O'Grady when it came to pure meanness.
"You think he might be one of those demon critters?" one of the others asked.
"Maybe," Markum replied. "Won't know unless he lets out that beast."
"Well, how about it? You got fangs and a tail?"
The groan of the rope told Casper they were twisting him around, playing with him. It wouldn't be long before they left teasing for real torture. Casper was getting closer, but he still had no winning plan for taking on three grown, armed men. Chase was going to have to hang in there a little while longer.
"Fuck you! Let go of me," Chase demanded.
"Feisty," O'Grady observed in a slow drawl. "Markum, why don't you see if you can settle him down a bit?"
The rasp of leather against fabric told Casper what was coming next. A whipping wouldn't kill Chase, but it was sure to hurt. Too much pain, and he'd shift. Chase couldn't help himself. That's what O'Grady was waiting for. Then the fun would really begin.
Take the pain, Casper said in the way of wolves. Don't fight him.
"Are you crazy?" Chase shouted.
Casper hoped the men thought his response was directed at Markum, who was now brandishing the belt as though it were a whip, cracking it in the air and putting on a show. "I ain't the one livin' out here in the swamp like some kind of animal."
The other men laughed as the first lash struck Chase's skin. "Ow! Sheriff, aren't you going to stop him?"
"I protect people," O'Grady said, amused. "You need someone from PETA to save your sorry hide. Not that it would do any good. Ain't no law on the books about huntin' and killin' demon spawn."
The belt-whip cracked again, and this time Chase's response was a low growl that sounded a little too real.
Stay calm, Chase. Trust me.
"Bastards! This is illegal. You can't do this!" Chase protested.
"Maybe you'd like to make a deal instead," O'Grady offered.
"What kind of deal?"
"See, freak of nature or not, it's not you I'm really interested in. I know that black mutt of yours is around here somewhere. If you turn him over to me, I'll let you go free. How does that sound?"
"Like a fucking trap that'll snare both of us," Chase replied. "No deal."
"Markum, change his mind."
The blows came heavy and often. Casper was close enough to smell the blood that now streaked Chase's thighs, chest and back. Being naked, he had no protection at all from the sting of the leather, and Markum was damn good with his weapon. Casper longed to rip the man's throat out, but he couldn't. Not yet. Maybe if he could take out one of the other men, O'Grady would be willing to trade...
Chase hurled curses as he took the abuse, but he couldn't hold out forever. The wolf in him was clawing to break free, to fight and protect. The same things Casper was feeling as he listened to his lover suffer. So as soon as he saw an opening, Casper leapt from the woods, hitting the larger of the two sidekicks square in the chest. Together they toppled off the back of the pontoon boat and sank into the black murky water.
Bullets zipped through the water as Casper swam to shore with the leg of his thrashing victim clenched in his jaws. Behind him, a slew of phrases were hurled at him.
"Casper, no! Run!" Chase shouted.
"Damn, water's too dark to see him," Markum complained.
O'Grady said, "Stop shooting. I want him alive."
"Danny! Danny!" his buddy wailed.
Casper shifted to human form as he climbed out, dragging his bounty up on shore behind him. The man was hardly fighting him at all now, and it only took a single glance to tell him why. One of Markum's bullets had found a home, in the guy's chest. Blood pumped out in thick rivulets and a red froth was forming around his mouth. Danny wouldn't be breathing much longer.
"Casper, get out of here!"
"Shut up, you worthless mutt," Markum said, kicking Chase in the head.
The man-pup grunted and fell silent. Casper vowed to make the man pay for that.
"I'll offer you the same terms I gave your pathetic pet. Your life for his," O'Grady said to Casper, his gray eyes now steel cold.
"He's not even trained yet. Hardly a worthy trade," Casper replied as he tried to marshal his hate and fear into productive thought. Without a hostage to barter with, he was in as much trouble as Chase.
"Danny! Oh, Danny. You've killed him," Danny's buddy cried.
"Stop his bitching, would you?" O'Grady ordered.
Markum nodded, a grin splitting his face to show two rows of yellow, crooked teeth. "My pleasure, boss."
Two shots were all it took, one to ensure Danny wasn't going to rise from the dead and another to make sure his buddy couldn't complain about it. Markum kicked the second corpse off the boat into the water. "Gators are going to eat good tonight."
Casper kept his eyes locked on O'Grady. They were now two against two. Then again, Chase could be unconscious -- or worse -- from that blow to the head. Casper decided to act as if he were on his own.
The sheriff had taken a point near the controls of his boat. No doubt his service weapon was stashed nearby. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, negotiating a trade. I think I've changed my mind. We'll take both of you."
"Why bother with him when it's me you really want?" Casper asked, hoping there was still a chance he could keep Chase out of it.
"He's important to you. I might find that useful."
"The pup means nothing to me. Hell, he's barely housetrained."
"Seen you fuckin'." Markum grabbed his own balls in a crude gesture. "Fucking faggots."
"If liking a partner was a requirement for sex, you'd never get any, Markum," Casper taunted.
"Queer bastard, I'm gonna rip out your dick and feed it to you one bite at a time. Bet I could hardly call it a snack, eh?"
O'Grady's lips curled in a smirk, but he put his hand out to stop Markum's quips. "Bind the young one and cut him down. Then we'll see just how much Casper cares about his friend."
Casper didn't dare risk trying to talk to Chase directly. Any form of contact would betray his true feelings. He was pretty sure O'Grady was just playing another game with him. After all, Casper wouldn't have put himself in danger by trying to free him in the first place if Chase truly meant so little to him, and they both knew it. This was just another way of drawing out the game, of torturing Casper a little longer. Casper was willing to play as it bought Chase more time to recover.
Duct tape bound Chase's arms to his torso. Another length taped his thighs together. Then Markum used a big knife to cut the rope holding Chase aloft. They hadn't bothered to reposition the boat. Instead of falling into it, Chase hit the corner with his shoulder and fell over the side, into the water.
Chase! There was no way on earth Casper could have prevented that noise from escaping his throat as he watched his lover's body sink under the murky water.
And when it failed to rise to the surface, cold rage took control of his body.
Chapter 12 -- Some Things Are Worth Fighting For
Chase swam under the boat, undulating his body in a porpoise kick. The water stung his fresh wounds, but not enough to slow him down. He wasn't alone down there. Besides the man who had been executed for having the guts to care about his friend, there were a few alligators cruising by to see what all the fuss was about. He didn't have time to worry about them. He turned his focus inward and shifted, fueling the change with his towering rage.
Once his muzzle had formed and the tape had fallen off, he lifted his nose above the water at the back of the pontoon boat and sipped in several deep breaths. Though the water distorted the sound, he could hear Casper and the sheriff arguing.
Announcing his freedom didn't seem like a good idea, but getting a little revenge did. Getting his captors to join him in the water was the first step. He raked the aluminum shafts with his powerful claws, opening up big rents in the side. He came up for air under the deck of the boat, then went down again, swimming forward to the next sealed compartment of the air-filled tube.
The noise above grew louder and bullets sizzled through the water once again, but not close enough to distract him. The damaged floats were starting to take on water though, and the boat canted. Chase hit one more section for good measure before shifting back to human form. Though his toes were precariously close to the toothy mouths of the ancient reptiles, he needed human arms to capsize the boat.
He never got the chance. A savage growl preceded a large splash. More bullets entered the water, one of them finding a home in his thigh. He roared in pain, only to take in a mouthful of dirty water. Then the boat engine turned over and he had to dive to avoid being cut in half by the enormous rotating blades.
Being face to face with an alligator didn't appeal to him any better. He frantically kicked his way to the surface, each movement of his leg creating a burst of searing pain.
Coughing to clear his lungs, he tried to make sense of the scene around him. The injured pontoon boat had been beached on the muddy shore. The sheriff had jumped onto the ground and seemed to be trying to push the boat back into the swamp. A few feet away, two men wrestled on the surface of the water. Chase was torn. Did Casper need help or should he try to stop O'Grady from escaping?
The boat deck became submerged and the sheriff disappeared into the woods. He carried his right arm at an odd angle, as if it were broken. Chase started to gather the will to change form once more -- he could run much faster as a wolf -- but then he heard Casper call out to him. "Chase, no. He's mine!"
Chase didn't see a sign of the other man as Casper started swimming for the shore. Since he had a shorter distance to go, Chase made it there first. They both dropped to the ground to shift, but Chase collapsed as soon as he tried to stand on all four paws. Apparently while what he wore on his body, human or lupine, got left behind during a shift, what he had in his body did not. The bullet was still lodged in his thigh, and his back leg couldn't bear his weight.
His soft whine halted Casper in his tracks. You're hurt?
Go on. Get O'Grady.
Let me see.
Chase tried to back up, but couldn't do more than drag himself a few inches. Casper jumped across the distance that separated them. One look at the painful hole had him howling mad. Anger made his hackles quiver.
I'll be fine. You have to stop the sheriff. And the other one... what happened to him?
Casper blurred, then stood before him naked, and sexy, and mad as hell. "Markum is dead. Ripped out his throat. O'Grady will be too, once I get my teeth in his neck."
Exhaustion settled on Chase like a ton of bricks. The adrenaline surge was wearing off, and as mad as he was, he couldn't summon the energy to revert to his human body. Still, he saw no reason to hold Casper back from his mission. Go then. I'll wait --
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." He scooped Chase up in his strong arms and took off in the opposite direction from the sheriff.
Wait --
"Don't argue with me or I'll throw your carcass in the swamp and let the alligators have you for dinner too."
Though his arms were gentle, his tone vibrated with anger. Chase didn't understand why Casper would be so angry with him. Okay, so maybe he should have been more aware of his surroundings. In wolf form, he probably would have avoided the simple trap. As a man, it simply didn't occur to him to look for it.
Since it didn't seem like a good time to dig into Casper's mood, he settled his muzzle in the crook of Casper's arm and let sleep claim him.
\*
A day later they were still not on speaking terms. Martin had removed the bullet and closed the wound. A few extra meals and the magical healing powers of a shifter helped improve his strength and hastened his healing, but Martin ordered him to confine himself to the lab for a few days. Casper had no such restrictions, and so he spent the majority of his time in the bayou, doing heaven only knew what. That gave Chase a lot of time to think and little time to ask the mountain of questions tumbling through his mind.
Finally, he decided to approach Martin to demand some answers. He found the doctor in the lab. He had a slide under the microscope, but instead of staring at it the blank wall seemed to require his complete concentration.
"Hey," Chase said softly, to get his attention.
Martin dredged up a weak smile. "Hey yourself. Feeling any better?"
"The leg is fine, but I'd like to ask you something."
Martin nodded as if he'd been expecting it. "You want to know what Casper's problem is."
"Yeah, I do. I thought things were going good between us, but now he won't even spend five minutes in the same room with me."
"I'd say what the two of you went through yesterday was bound to change a few things."
"Why should it?" Most of the events after his capture were blurry. He couldn't forget about getting shot; the ache in his leg was a constant reminder. The rest of it though, it faded in comparison to the time they'd spent making love. That's what mattered to him. That's what he wanted Casper to acknowledge and focus on.
"Maybe because your actions almost got both of us killed," Casper said, standing in the doorway.
"I think this is my cue to leave," Martin said, turning off the microscope. "Try not to put any more gaping holes in your hide. I'm out of sutures." He brushed close to Casper on his way out and murmured, "Play nice."
Casper didn't acknowledge him as he left. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "You're out of bed."
"So are you." Unclothed too. The dim lighting made his sculpted body look like a golden statue. Automatically Chase's mind kicked over into artist mode, choosing the right metals and the right curves to capture his lover's raw beauty. Chase longed to run his hands over Casper's magnificent form, and would have if he thought Casper wouldn't bite him for it. Since he looked ready to rip into him, Chase restrained himself.
"I'm not recovering from a bullet wound."
"Would you rather I didn't?"
"What?"
"Would you be happier if I didn't recover?"
"Stupid question," Casper muttered. He turned on his heel to leave the room.
Chase hobbled after him, determined to get answers. "You won't talk to me. Hell, you won't even look at me most of the time. What am I supposed to think?"
"This conversation is over."
Casper shifted, as if it were easier to pretend Chase didn't exist in his lupine world. Maybe he didn't belong there any more. But if that were the case, Chase wanted to know why. He deserved to know.
As the black beast trotted down to the room to where they normally slept, Chase limped after him. Since Casper couldn't close the door in his face, Chase followed him in and continued talking. "You convinced me to stay when I wanted to run off. You fought my fear of becoming a werewolf, and helped me through the transition. In the past month you've been my friend, my mentor and, finally, my lover. Now, you're turning your back on me as if none of that means a thing to you and I want to know why."
Casper settled his muzzle on top of his paws and feigned sleep.
"Was I not brave enough? Did I break some obscure code of lupine honor? Tell me, Casper, what did I do to make you so angry?"
Leave me be, he barked out.
"No, not until you answer me." Chase's leg was throbbing now but it was nothing compared to the painful ache in his chest. He really thought he had something special with Casper. What had gone so wrong? "Do you blame me for the deaths of those men? Is that what you can't get over?"
The wolf didn't make a sound.
"O'Grady escaped. Is that the problem? Are you pissed because I prevented you from hunting down your prey?"
You broke your promise to me, Casper replied in the manner of wolves.
That was so not the answer Chase was expecting. He could only gape at his lover.
You have your answer. Now go.
Casper wished with all his heart that Chase would give up this stupid need to understand him and leave. He didn't want to discuss the issue. He wanted Chase to heal, then get the hell out of his life. Going after O'Grady was a death wish, but Casper saw no other future for himself. Chase had been right about making O'Grady pay for his crimes. The time had finally come, even if Casper died in the process. Without Chase -- and he couldn't bear to watch the man throw himself into harm's way time and time again -- his life didn't matter to him anymore.
"What are you talking about?" Chase asked him.
I've said enough.
"Oh, no you haven't. Not by a long shot." Chase slipped off the edge of the bed and grabbed the back of Casper's neck. "Explain what you mean by that."
Anger boiled inside him, and for the first time in decades, he lost control over his form. As he gained the use of his arms, he batted Chase's hand away. "You don't even remember, do you? You promised you wouldn't go after the poachers on your own." He started pacing the short length of the room. Two strides, turn. Two strides, turn.
"I didn't," Chase protested.
"Right. So why then were you down by the water? You knew they'd been there just a few hours before, setting traps. What did you think you were going to do? Ask them politely to go away?"
"No, I was just --"
"Just what? Gonna spring their traps? They aren't boy scouts trying to earn a merit badge. They're dangerous men. I warned you, but you wouldn't listen." He'd spent more time talking to Chase in the past month than he'd talked to anyone else, including Martin, in the last decade. But now that the words were flowing, he couldn't seem to stop. "You could have died last night. And for what? So ancient predators who'd managed to survive just fine without you for centuries could continue to reproduce and thrive in a little corner of this huge swamp? Sounds like a pretty poor reason to die to me."
"I wasn't --"
"Going to live once O'Grady got his hands on you? Yes, I know. I know that very well. How do you think I got these scars?" He gestured toward the rigid, bumpy flesh that marred his face and neck. "The good sheriff knows what we are, and takes pleasure in hunting us as if we were big game. But he doesn't just kill his prey in cold blood as he had done with those men. No, O'Grady likes to watch us suffer first. He claims he's trying to cast out the demon spirit that gives us our power, but in reality he just likes watching things suffer."
"I know --"
"You don't know shit, Chase. You barely know enough about being a wolf to survive in the woods for a few days. You sure as hell don't know what to do with a master predator like O'Grady. So forgive me if I don't support your quest to challenge him on behalf of the living suitcases in the swamp. I know how that's likely to turn out, and I'd rather not watch you die." As if the memory had awakened all the old pain, Casper fingered the scars that marred his face. "Or worse, live with the pain of what he's done to you."
"I have no --"
"Damn right you have no --"
"Will you please let me finish one goddamn sentence!"
Their heavy breathing was the only sound in the small chamber for the next few minutes. Finally Chase got to his feet and put himself in Casper's path. "I didn't break my promise to you. I went to the water to clean up. I was so wrapped up in my feelings for you, in having your scent on my body, that I failed to notice anything else." Chase poked Casper's chest with his finger to emphasize his point. "I'm guilty of being in love with you, you stupid jerk. That's all."
The idea had never occurred to him. At best, he thought he could keep Chase by his side for a few months, until he had no more to teach the man, in bed or out of it. Was it possible that Chase had really fallen for him?
Chase's fingers softly traced the line of his jaw. "God, I would give a major organ to capture that look on your face right now. In bronze, or maybe copper."
Casper looked down into Chase's warm blue eyes. The love he found there stole his breath. The crazy man-pup really found him worthy of loving. Amazing.
He grabbed Chase by the shoulders and jerked him into a tight embrace. "After all I went through last night to keep your body in one piece, I'll not have you carving out chunks of it for my ugly mug."
Though Chase cuddled against him, he pinched Casper's ass hard. "Your mug isn't ugly."
"Your mind isn't right."
"Love me anyway?"
Chase's question revealed his insecurities, and Casper cursed himself for a fool. It had been so long since he'd even thought about having a relationship with another person that he'd forgotten all the skills one needed to make a successful go of it. They were in for some rough times just because he was who he was, but Casper vowed he wouldn't give up trying to do right by Chase. Starting now.
He swept his fingers up Chase's neck, loving the feeling of his rough beard against his skin. When Chase was looking up at him through his thick lashes, he said, "Yeah, I love you anyway."
"And you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked hopefully.
"I never was. Just scared out of my mind at the thought of losing you. Still am." Only now his desire to be with Chase outweighed his need to spare himself the pain of one day losing him. Without a doubt, O'Grady needed to be dealt with, but that could wait until they had a plan that didn't endanger either one of them.
And if that plan never materialized, they'd continue to live as they did now... hiding out in the bayou, looking for the lost man-pups who wandered into the swamp in search of a good home to grow up in. And, perhaps, thwarting the less dangerous poachers who threatened the ancient reptiles Chase seemed so fond of.
"Don't be. I'm not going anywhere without you." Chase's fingers danced up his spine, then got tangled in his hair. He urged Casper closer and fit their mouths together in the sweetest kiss Casper had ever experienced. Their chests brushed each other as they made the subtle adjustments necessary to deepen the connection. Hunger for his mate exploded in his gut as he felt Chase's cock start to stiffen.
He fisted his hand in Chase's hair and jerked his head back a few inches. His breath came out in ragged gasps. "Get whatever stuff you left behind at the shack and move in here with me."
"Okay," Chase agreed, equally breathless.
"Later," Casper amended as Chase tried to withdraw from his arms.
"Okay." Chase smiled wickedly. "What would you rather do instead?"
The idea of taking him up against the wall held lots of appeal, but he suddenly remembered Chase was still healing. "Go to bed."
"Huh?"
He swatted Chase's bare ass. "Go to bed. Our bed. And face the wall."
The young man did as he was told. He looked mouth-wateringly sexy all sprawled out across the old quilt. Casper couldn't remember the last time he'd used the mattress, preferring to sleep on the floor in his wolf form. He had a feeling it'd see plenty of use now.
Kneeling beside the bed, he peppered Chase's back with soft kisses. He took his time, going slow, covering every inch of skin. The scrapes and bruises from the previous day were all but gone. The only obvious wound was under the white bandage on his thigh. Casper kissed that too, praying it would heal quickly without leaving an ugly reminder of the event.
"Hey," Chase said softly, shifting his fingers through Casper's hair. "It's okay."
Casper turned his head to kiss Chase's palm. "Spread your legs."
The natural smell of Chase's most intimate parts drew him in. He licked his way down the crack of his lover's ass. The skin around his balls had already tightened. He laved them with broad strokes of his tongue before retreating to the tightly puckered hole. Blindly he reached for the drawer of the bedside table. There wasn't much in it, except the newly purchased bottle of lube Martin had made a point of procuring "just in case man sex suddenly appealed" to him. He quickly removed the cap and coated his fingers with the clear gel.
The first finger breached the ring of muscle with ease. Chase shifted restlessly, driving the digit deeper inside him.
Casper chuckled softly. "What a slut puppy you are."
Chase twisted his torso to look over his shoulder. "Only for you."
"Damn straight." Casper rewarded him with another finger. He rotated them, stretching his lover wide. Gently he began to finger-fuck him with the slow, languid motions that drove Chase out of his mind with lust.
"Oh yeah. That feels so good."
Casper knew it'd feel even better when he found that spongy button. He worked his fingers over it until Chase writhed with pleasure. The heady smell of sex permeated the room. The rising tide of lust within his own body made it hard to restrain himself. As much as Casper wanted to give Chase every pleasure imaginable, he also wanted to bury himself deep within his lover's body. Now.
He slicked the length of his shaft with a few rough tugs, then he stretched out on the bed, fitting his body to Chase's. He slid one knee under Chase's top thigh to open him up. The head of his cock sought out the small opening as if it knew right where it belonged. He poised on the brink of penetration to ask, "Ready?"
"Yeah. Fuck me, Casper. Please."
The needy thread to that request caused Casper's balls to harden painfully. The good kind of pain that let him know he was about to experience pure heaven.
He claimed Chase's body in a slow thrust that nearly killed him. Intense heat encompassed his cock. He adjusted to it within seconds, but that first rush never failed to thrill him.
With his hand on Chase's hip, he began to move, in and out. Chase groaned and gripped the edge of the mattress. He used the leverage to push back, further impaling himself on Casper's thick erection. Each of them seemed lost in the maelstrom of pleasure building inside them.
He licked away the beads of sweat that started to form along Chase's spine. The urge to rush to the finish was quickly becoming unbearable, but Casper maintained his steady thrusts. He knew the longer he held back, the more intense climax would be. He wanted that, for both of them.
"Casper, please."
"You want to come, my mate?"
Chase shuddered in his arms. "Mate?"
"Mine. My mate." Although he'd never really planned on taking a mate, with Chase, it was undeniably the right thing to do. They would be mated as man and beast. He couldn't imagine loving anyone more than he did the brave man-pup in his arms.
Words tumbled from Chase's lips. "I want... I have to... Oh, God. Now."
Casper ground against him, pushing himself deeper than ever before. "Do it. Jerk off for me. Let me watch you come. I want to feel you come."
Chase fisted his cock. He stroked the rigid length rapidly, often brushing against Casper's hand that now gripped his balls. Pre-cum pooled on the tip of Chase's cock and Casper's mouth watered at the thought of licking it away. He wasn't going to last much longer.
"Now, my mate. Come for me."
Chase let out an ear-splitting wail as his body clenched around Casper's cock. Though he meant to watch the creamy white fluid stream out in thick ropes from his lover's body, Casper had to close his eyes as he surrendered to the force of his own orgasm. The pleasure was so intense it actually made his toes curl. In one throbbing spasm, he fed his seed into Chase's tight hole. Chase's muscles continued to milk him for more until he was utterly drained.
It seemed that neither man could move a muscle after such an intense climax. Chase wiggled a bit until their bodies were pressed together from neck to knee. Casper wrapped his arms around his mate. Peace filled him in ways he never knew were possible.
Casper thought Chase had drifted off to sleep until he said, "Remember what you said before, about being afraid you'd lose me?"
"Yeah?"
"I've got your scent imprinted on me now. No matter where you go, I can track you down, so you can't lose me for long."
Casper laughed. "When you're ready, we'll scent each other in proper wolf fashion. For now, I'll settle for keeping you as close as humanly possible."
The chase was over. They'd captured each other, and formed a perfect whole out of their two opposite halves. O'Grady and the rest of the world would just have to manage without them until they emerged from their lover's cocoon, stronger, faster and smarter together than they could ever be alone.
Kira Stone
Kira Stone lives in a warm, many-chambered cave tucked away in the Scottish Highlands. A small band of ever-changing heroes keeps her company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, devils dance and angels sing her bawdy songs. Faerie folk often stop in for a cup of mulled wine and to listen to her spin a yarn or two. And when daylight turns to dusk, together they somehow find a way to keep the cold, uncaring world at bay for another night...
Okay, maybe not. LOL. When Kira isn't living in a fantasy world, she's writing about one from her ordinary house in Ohio with a few feline companions (who don't sing nearly as well as the angels do). Is it any wonder she prefers the cave? You can check out Kira's website at http://www.kirastonebooks.com, or join her Yahoo Group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/kirastonebooks.

