by Sean Michael
Cody was here. Had been here. Recently.
“One of us?”
“Yeah. Smaller than me, wearing dark glasses, even at night.”
Her face went tight and she shook her head. “He’s sick, Uncle. There’s something wrong with him. I can smell it.”
His lips went tight and he stopped her, turned her so they were looking eye to eye. “He’s mine, Lisa. You understand? Mine. You tell me where he is.”
“Oh.” The worry turned to pity. “Oh, man. Room 817. He always takes it, every time.”
He bit back his snarl, but couldn’t stop his growl. “Every time?” How often was Cody here?
“That’s the rumor, yeah. He’s a regular.”
Dark haired, dark eyes—she looked just like his sister, Yvonne.
Damn it. A regular. And he’d only seen Cody what? Six times in the last ten years? Maybe seven.
“Tell your mother I said hi.” He patted her shoulder and headed for the stairs; no way was he going to have the patience to wait for the elevator.
“I…I will. Do you need room service?” she called after him.
He didn’t bother to answer, taking the stairs two at a time.
He was pissed off enough that he made it up them double time, bursting through the stairwell door and jogging down the hall to room 817. He was going to kill Cody, the man coming here and watching him, staying away more times than not if rumor had it right.
He banged on the door. “Let me in!”
The sound from inside the room was sudden, sharp, incredibly huge. What the fuck?
“Cody!” he roared, banging on the door again.
Doors began to open on either side, people peeking out. The door under his hands moved, sliding open the barest bit. “Go away.”
“No.” He turned from the door long enough to snarl at the lookie-loos, and then pushed his way into Cody’s room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Go away.” The scent of pain and booze were overwhelming.
“You’re hurting.” Wasn’t he just the king of obvious? He growled and grabbed Cody, tugging him close.
“Go away…” Cody’s muscles were jerking, rolling, his entire body fighting to change.
Fuck, he’d forgotten how awful this was. He hadn’t seen Cody go through this since the man had first left. Somehow, he’d convinced himself it wasn’t this bad. “Is it like this every full moon?” He pulled Cody to the hotel bed.
“Just go away…You need to go. Tomorrow, you’ll change. You can’t be here.”
“How long does this go on for?” He pushed Cody onto the bed and began to work those poor, twisted muscles.
“Go.” Cody arched, mouth open as Barker worked, pushing on those horrifying knots.
God-fucking-damnit, this wasn’t right. No one should have to go through this, especially not month after month. He snarled. “Shut up.”
“Fuck you.” Cody sobbed. “Why are you here?”
“You’re my mate.” He ground the words out between clenched teeth. “Do you take anything for the pain?” Had Cody ever seen a doctor? He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that one would be a big fucking no.
Cody shook his head. “No. I don’t want you to see this.”
“Too fucking bad. Is this helping at all?” Barker kept working, the muscles like stone under his fingers.
Cody nodded, panting softly as Barker massaged one arm then the other.
“What else helps? Heat? Cold?”
“Whiskey.” The laugh was pained but real.
“It smells like you’ve already had plenty.” He worked the muscles of Cody’s back, making his way down the poor spine.
He felt his mate began to relax, slowly ease into the mattress.
A sound rumbled in his chest. “There. Better?”
Cody’s sigh answered him, his mate breathing easy. He lay down carefully on top of Cody, feeling each breath. Shudders hit the man every so often, but Barker pressed down through them, forcing them to loosen their hold, let his mate rest.
His hand found one of Cody’s, and he twined their fingers together, holding on. He wasn’t going to sleep; he was going to watch his mate, protect him.
And when the son of a bitch woke up and tried to run, Barker was going to kill him.
* * * * *
The moon. The fucking moon was coming. Cody groaned, arched, something warm and heavy easing him, holding him down.
“The moon…”
“It’s coming. Like it always does.” God, he swore Barker’s voice got gruffer every time he heard it.
“Why are you here?” Barker needed to leave. Had to. The moon was coming.
“Because you are.”
He shouldn’t have stayed, but he’d kept it too late, waited too long.
“It’s like this every time, isn’t it? Just as bad as the first time. Maybe worse.”
Cody nodded. It didn’t matter. He coped. Mostly.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Oh, thank the Goddess. “Swear it?”
Barker punched him in the arm. “Don’t be an asshole. Why did you keep this from me?”
“This isn’t yours. I’m not Clan. This is mine to deal with.”
“Bullshit. You’re my mate. That makes you mine. All of you.”
Cody would give anything for that not to be true, to believe that Barker would find another mate.
“And I’m pissed off. Not only did you keep this from me, but I find out today that you’re here a lot. A lot more than I knew.”
“Just go away. I’ll leave. I promise.” He lied. He couldn’t. He needed to see Barker sometimes, to smell him.
“Not an option anymore, babe.” Barker seemed to become heavier, more solid on top of him. “I’m doing what I should have done ten years ago.”
The heat seemed to bake into Cody, ease him, bone deep.
“We belong together. Everyone knows we mate for life. It was wrong of the Clan to kick you out.”
“I’m defective. You know that. Only the strong survive.” He knew that. He knew. Still, when his family, his pack, had come with fire, with guns, with bared teeth, something in him had run gibbering from the world. Hateful, ugly, half-formed thing that he was.
“Looks to me like you’ve done pretty fucking well in the survival category. Ten years you’ve lived with this. Ten years of unbelievable pain every full moon. On your own. Makes you pretty fucking strong in my book.” That heat never wavered, never let up. Barker kept pressing him down, forcing his muscles to let go. “With the two of us, you’ll be twice as strong.”
“I won’t dishonor you, mate. I swore it.” His need for Barker was stronger than anything but his shame.
“No, instead you abandoned me, spied on me.”
Cody’s cheeks burned. He hadn’t been spying. He simply…He had to see. It was a biological imperative. Barker was strong enough that the man hadn’t needed him.
He pushed Barker aside, using what little strength he had left, and slipped off the bed. “What can I say? I’m a shit.” He headed for the bathroom.
Barker’s growl came after him, followed by the man himself. Grabbing his arm, Barker pulled him back around. “Yeah, you are. But you’re my shit.”
“Fuck off. You’ll change tonight. You have to go. Get out of town.” He knew that Barker headed into the wilds for the change; most of them did.
“Only if you come with me.”
Cody wished he could, more than anything. “You know I can’t.” He would be walking bait. Or, more accurately, writhing on the ground, whimpering bait.
“Then I’m staying with you.”
“You can’t.” He pulled away, forcing himself to stand strong. “Look. You know how this is; so do I. I’d give my balls to be whole, to run with you, but it won’t work. You can live. Do it.” Leave him to his half-life.
“I won’t leave you here on your own.” Barker stalked to the window, looking out and down. “My grandfather had a cabin, deep in the woods.”
“I won’t. I need my mate.”
Cody closed his eyes as a wave of agony and need and loss slammed through him.
Barker’s arms wrapped around him. “I’m sorry, Cody, I can’t let you go this time.”
He moaned, head falling forward. He should have run. He should have. He would, as soon as the moon began fading.
He was pulled tight against the solid chest. “Here or in the wild, babe. Pick one.”
Cody had only ever seen Barker change that first time. Maybe Barker would turn on him, kill him, in wolf form this time. That would be a blessing.
“Not here.”
“If we leave now, we can be at my grandfather’s cabin when the change comes.”
“Fine. I have to pack my things.”
Barker moved to the door and stood in front of it, hands folded across his arms. “Go ahead.”
His eyebrow arched. “You don’t trust me. I’m hurt.”
“I don’t trust you not to try and run, no.”
He didn’t have much, and it didn’t take but a few seconds to gather up everything he owned into a duffel bag. He worked when he could, saved for his trips here to watch.
“Come on. My truck’s parked around the corner.”
Hopefully he’d never have to come back here. If there was a god, Barker would put him down tonight.
“I’m right behind you.”
Chapter Three
Barker drove like his ass was on fire. He felt the full moon hunting him with every second the sun dropped lower in the sky.
He’d been driving since dawn, pushing his battered truck hard. He knew Cody would be safe at his grandfather’s old place. And he could run out there when the change took him. And it was far enough out, Cody couldn’t disappear on him while he was out howling at the moon.
Cody was silent beside him, skin gray as ash, eyes closed. The man smelled sour to him, sick. He rolled his window down partway, letting the forest air clear the cab out. He needed to find someone who could help Cody, fix him.
Those glowing eyes cracked open, peering at him over the dark glasses. “You need me to drive?”
“I’m good. We’ll be there soon.” Out in the middle of nowhere, the cabin would be a safe place. Cody could lock himself in.
He got a nod then the black lenses were pushed back in place.
“You’ll like it out here. It’s isolated, fresh, clean.”
“You come here often?”
“Every now and then.” It was a good place to go and howl at the moon. Whenever Cody showed up and then disappeared again, he’d go out and run until he was exhausted, spend some time all on his own. It was private. His. A place he didn’t have to see others. It hadn’t been easy, when Cody hadn’t changed. Knowing what he’d lost…
Where did Cody go? Where was Cody’s home, for God’s sake? Would the man even begin to answer him if he asked?
“So. When you aren’t stalking me—where’s your home base?”
“I don’t stalk you.”
“No? What do you call it then?”
“Weakness. I had to see you. I didn’t ever bother you.”
“No. You show up over and over and hide it from me. I’m your mate, damn it!” They bounced over the dirt road and Barker slowed back down, hands tight on the steering wheel.
“You deserve better.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t even deserve you. If I’d stuck by you when the Clan said you had to go—then I’d deserve you. I didn’t though, did I?” He’d been young, scared and hurting. Not excuses, just reasons why he’d let it happen.
“No. No one did. I’m not Clan. I didn’t belong there.”
“You’re mine. That means you belong with me. I’ve hated every second we’ve been apart. There’s a piece of me missing when you’re not there, Cody.”
Cody didn’t answer him to begin with, head ducking. “I’m fucking sorry. I would never have answered your call if I’d known.”
Barker shrugged. “It happened. You’re mine. We have to deal.” He shot a look at Cody. “Better than we have been.”
“You could kill me. I’ve tried to off myself, but…” Cody shrugged. “A body wants to live.”
Barker went silent for a long time, working on that one. “It’s that bad?”
“What part? Wanting to live? It’s ridiculous, but true.”
“I meant the offing yourself part. Cody, you should have come to me with this. I would have helped.” He was going to help now.
“How? You have a life, a home. You’ve had lovers, friends. I’ve seen. I’m proud of you.”
He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’ve been here all those times and I never knew. That you were watching me and I had no clue.” He was an asshole. Of course, so was Cody. How could he not have known? That scent…maybe a part of him hadn’t wanted to believe it.
Cody shrugged. “I just needed to see you. I left for weeks at a time. Wandered.”
Which brought him back to his original question. “So where do you wander to? Where’s home?”
“Wherever. I work when I can. I don’t carry much, so I move light.”
“So the place you are the most—that’s in that hotel room, right across the fucking street from me.” Fuck, he was a blind fucking idiot. How could he not have known?
“I can see you from there.”
“You know where else you can see me from? My fucking place.” He nodded at the clearing ahead. “There it is.”
Cody looked. “You come here a lot. I can smell you here, even from the car.”
“Nothing wrong with your nose,” he said softly.
“No.” Cody shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with my nose at all, or my appetite.”
“I keep a cooler in the back full of food. Help yourself. I’ll get something while I’m out tonight.”
He pulled the truck to a stop next to the cabin and jumped out to grab the cooler, as well as the pitifully small duffel bag that was apparently home to all of Cody’s worldly possessions.
Cody seemed tiny in the clearing, oddly foreign and draped in layers of sadness. Barker wanted to take Cody out under the light of the moon and then run with him, just go like the wind, his mate beside him. He would settle for coming home to his mate after he’d changed back.
“Let me have my bag, man. You don’t have much time left and neither do I.”
“I’ve got enough time to get you inside. Show you how to work the lock.” He led the way, shouldering open the door.
Cody followed him, head down, all coat and glasses and hat.
“It’s not fancy. There’s an outhouse out back and a water pump up front.”
He plopped the stuff down on the floor next to the door and prowled around, making sure the windows and back door were secure. “It’ll keep you safe, though.”
“Come kiss me.”
His eyes widened in surprise—Cody was usually telling him to let go, not drawing him closer. He went, bringing their mouths together in a kiss fueled more than a little by the animal lurking beneath the surface.
Cody tasted like tears, but the kiss was heartfelt, tongue sliding to taste his mouth. He wanted to stay with Cody and rut. He wanted to sink into the taste and the scent and the feeling of his lover.
It was no time at all before Cody pulled away from him, though, a light sheen of sweat covering the lean body. “It’s time. Go.”
“Look.” He showed Cody how to lock the door. “You lock it behind me and you don’t let anyone in until I come back at sunrise.”
“I see how it works.”
“Promise me you’re going to lock it and not let anyone but me, as I am now, in.”
“Go, Barker. The sun’s down.” Cody stripped the shirt off him, popped the buckle open on his pants.
“I want that promise, mate.” He let his pants fall down around his a
nkles and worked off his running shoes. He felt the tug of the moon and knew it wouldn’t be long. “Promise.”
Cody’s hand stroked over his stomach, his palm wet with sweat, the scent of pain almost unbearable. “Go.” Then Cody shoved him out the door.
Snarling, he turned and ran while he could still control the animal, ran as far away from the cabin as his legs would take him. When the moon’s rays hit him, he transformed, leaping into his wolf form, four legs now taking him through the forest.
* * * * *
Cody watched through the window, watched the man he loved more than life do the one thing his body needed to do more than anything. It was a special kind of hell—looking at heaven through a dirty, cracked window and iron bars. He stayed there as long as he could then he stripped himself down.
If he was lucky, he’d be dead come morning. If he wasn’t, at least his clothes wouldn’t be fouled and he could put them back on.
Cody found his pocket knife and a bottle of whiskey in his duffel, managing to make it out into the clearing in front of the cabin before his legs gave out, his body writhing on the dirt for a few torturous minutes before the wave passed.
“Please. Please, let it be over. For me. Please let it be done. Tonight.” He drank deep then cut a long line across his arm, letting the blood flow free. Let Barker come for him.
Either way, Barker was going to kill him. Either the wolf would do it, or Barker would be so pissed at him tomorrow that the man would.
Another wave of agony hit him and he convulsed, legs and arms slamming into the ground, the knife blade pushing deep. Either way worked.
Cody heard the lone howl—Barker, his mate.
He sobbed, his entire body twisting as his muscles jerked and pulled.
Once.
Once he’d been happy, excited. The change was coming, and his life would be whole. He would find his mate and he would change.
The howl came again, closer this time. Barker was coming.
Tears streaked his cheeks and he fought to breathe. He’d wanted to be enough, he’d wanted to change, he’d wanted to make Barker proud.
Barker came bounding out of the woods, huge and dark gray, eyes shining.
“Beautiful.” He held out his bleeding arm, making a clear offer. “Please.” Make it stop.
