Brothers of the Fang

by Sharon Joss

  “Healing that fast can’t be good.”

  “It’s still too early to tell if he’s been infected,” she said. “It’s within the boundaries of normal. Dr. Singh is optimistic.”

  “I thought you were the werewolf expert.” He snagged a piece of bacon from her plate.

  Her coffee cup paused halfway to her mouth. “I’m an ALVS therapist Mike, not a physician. I teach lycans how to control their beasts once the disease takes hold. Until it becomes evident that Tom’s metabolism has mutated, or the next full moon, I am merely one of several consulting professionals to Dr. Singh.”

  “Sorry.” She was strawberry parfait to Yolanda’s smoky barbecue. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I do have a question.”

  Her brilliant smile told him all was forgiven. “Ask me anything.”

  He felt Tehuantl’s prurient interest stir, and shoved him back down as he cleared his throat. “I’ve noticed that some weres have the ability to exert influence over others. I’ve even felt it directed toward me. Is that wolf pheromones? It seems like the more powerful the wolf, the stronger the affect of the pheromones. Is that right?”

  “To a certain extent, yes. One of the ways in which the lycanthrope virus alters human physiology is through changes in the hypothalamus and vomeronasal organ, which become hyperactive and much more efficient at emitting and receiving signals. The longer a lycan lives, the more functional and sensitive the organs become.”

  “So are you saying that a person who has been a werewolf for decades, say, could control everyone around him? Bend them to his will? Like mind control?”

  She shook her head. “There is no evidence that humans are susceptible to werewolf pheromones, but lycans are sensitive to the effect. We do not yet fully understand the mechanics, but pressure with the tongue on the roof of the mouth stimulates the Jacobsen's organ. When the stimulation is coupled with an emotional thought, intention, or phrasing, the pheromone is released. However, for whatever reason, lycans with higher status within their social structure produce higher levels of pheromones, proportionate to their standing in the pack hierarchy. Even a newly-infected werewolf can produce massive pheromone levels if he or she holds Alpha status or even Beta in the pack.”

  “Do you think cats would be susceptible?”

  She nodded slowly. “Very likely. All felines have a well-developed Jacobson’s organ and the Flehmen grimace response is well-documented in lions and all big cats. In fact, many predators share this sensory ability to transmit and recognize pheromones as a form of non-verbal communication. Cross-species comprehension has not been studied, but it would not be surprising.”

  That explained his reactions to Vince, and to a lesser extent, Trick. “Thanks. That helps, I guess.”

  He flinched when she reached across the table and took his hand. “I do want to help you, Mike.”

  He pulled his hand away, and the arrival of the waitress forestalled any further discussion. His stomach growled as he ordered. Coffee and a bacon cheese omelet with hash browns, and an extra side of sausage. Mike kept his hands on his coffee cup and made small talk about Tom and his recovery until his food arrived.

  She drank her coffee and sat in silence as he ate. He kept his mouth full and his head down, but it didn’t seem as if she was going to give up easily.

  The food worked miracles. As he pushed aside his cleaned plate, he felt good enough to linger a few minutes longer. Clearheaded, but not enough to let her browbeat him into becoming her patient. Better to change the topic of conversation altogether.

  “The reason I asked about the pheromones is because I’ve recently been around a lot of werewolves. I got a job at Mythica.”

  She frowned. “That’s not a good place for you.”

  He found himself resenting her disapproval. “What would you know about it?”

  She glanced out the window before meeting his gaze. “I man the community outreach booth out there for the hospital on Saturday nights. A lot of people coming into the park have questions about getting help for family members and friends with ALVS.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “If you want to learn about pheromones and the dominance an Alpha exerts over his pack, there is no one more powerful than Vince Dazak. You could learn a lot from him.” She covered her empty plate with her napkin. “But he can’t help you with your beasts, and until you learn to control them, you’re not safe to be around humans.”

  He reddened. “I’m not a lycan. Believe me, I’m nothing like them. Besides, it’s just a short-term contract to get Tom’s medical expenses covered.” Damn, why didn’t he keep his mouth shut when he had the chance?

  She gazed up at him, her blue eyes holding his. “Tom told me what happened to you. I also feel it when I touch you. You’re different. But you’re still losing the fight with your beasts.”

  How did she do that, he wondered. How did she turn a simple statement back around to suit her purposes? He did not want to have this conversation.

  “I’ve treated hundreds of lycanthropes, Mike. I told you, I have a gift. I can look into people and read their spirit. I teach people to communicate with their beasts. If the human and beast spirits don’t converge, the beast will take over and the human spirit will succumb. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

  He looked around for the waitress, but didn’t see her.

  “I sense more than one beast in you. Your spirit has shrunk to accommodate the others. You have allowed your own spirit to become subservient to them, and locked yourself away from them. As a result, there are at least two others who are now stronger than you.’ She sat back in her seat. “You know I’m right.”

  He stared at her. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “If you don’t integrate your spirit with the others that inhabit your soul, you will lose yourself. Both of your beasts are stronger than you are. I’ll bet you don’t even sleep in human form any more. You’ve got to let me help you.”

  She looked so sincere. She was smart and attractive, but her fragile humanity terrified him. But where Yolanda triggered feelings of lust, his attraction to Sarah seemed to rouse bloodier hungers in the cat and Tehuantl. They thought of her as prey. He couldn’t trust himself to be alone with her. Where the hell is that waitress?

  “I know it’s hard for you to hear what I’m trying to tell you right now, but you need to listen to me. To put it simply, you must make friends with your beasts.”

  “I’ve got to get going.” He pulled his wallet out and laid a twenty on the table.

  “Your spirit is fading, Mike. I know you’re not lycan but you must listen to me. Lycans resume their true human form during REM sleep. You don’t. In fact, I’d be willing to be you haven’t slept in human form for a very long time.” She grabbed his hand again.

  He jerked away from her as if burned. “Stop it. Look, I don’t know how you know these things lady, but one of those spirits you’re talking about is a psychotic sociopath.” He lowered his voice. “The last thing I want to do into integrate anything of mine with him. He is a killer. Do you understand?” He leaned forward to make sure she heard every word. “He likes to kill people, Sarah. He’s a cannibal. He rips their still-beating hearts out of their chests and he eats them.” He gripped the edge of the table so she wouldn’t see his hands shaking.

  “This is important, Mike. You have got to integrate your spirit with your beasts.”

  How could he make her understand? She was way out of her depth here. She had no idea what kind of monster he’d been living with. And if he told her the truth, she’d--.

  He stood to leave. “You can’t possibly understand what you’re asking.”

  “I’m trying to help you. He’s the one in control right now, you just aren’t aware of it. I’ll bet he can communicate with your other beasts better than you can.” She stood and reached for him again, her blue-green eyes blazing with intensity. “You know I’m right. Let me help you!”

  “Keep your voice down.” The last
thing he wanted was to let Tehuantl get anywhere near her. He fought the urgent need to run like hell. “Look, I don’t need your help. I’m real glad Tom is doing better, and that you’ll be there to help him if he needs it. But right now I’ve got some things I need to take care of.”

  “I know what I’m talking about, Mike. I could hypnotize you; facilitate the conversation. I’ve helped hundreds –.”

  He didn’t wait around to hear the end of it.

  * * *

  Tom had been moved into a private room. He smiled wanly as Mike pulled the chair closer to the bed. Although Tom’s neck was still covered in bandages, the tracheotomy tube had been removed, and Tom could speak, albeit in a whisper.

  “I know you feel guilty about this, son. I want you to know I don’t blame you. Not one bit.”

  Mike gripped his outstretched hand. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear--.”

  “Stop that. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all. I could have just as easily been hit by a truck. It’s just bad luck.”

  Mike brushed his godfather’s forehead. It felt a little warm. “How are you feeling?”

  Tom gave him a wan smile. “You mean do I feel furry? No. I feel like I’ve been hit by that truck, and that’s the honest truth.”

  “Dr. Singh says you’re doing well. He’s optimistic. Try not to worry.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”

  “I’m fine Pops. I’m not leaving. I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I don’t want you out there at Mythica. The Fae have been battling Van Cleve and that pet Mage of his out there for centuries. Gordon was banished by the Fae for tricking some of the High Tor folk into slavery; forcing them into blood stewardships for the Van Cleves. They’re sworn enemies.”

  “Whatever happened between the vampires and the Fae three hundred years ago doesn’t affect me, Pops. I have nothing to do with any of it. And besides, it’s just for a couple of months, and I’ll still be able to take care of you. It’s good money, and they’ve even agreed to cover your medical expenses if you develop lycanthropy. Not that it’s for certain,” he added hastily.

  “I don’t care. They’re like ticks. Once those vampires get their claws in your business, you’ll never get rid of them.”

  “I thought you’d be relieved.” The nurse had warned him about not saying anything to upset the patient. No need to say anything about the plan to throw Vince out of the pack. “They’ve got a bunch of big-wigs coming in for a meeting in a few weeks and have asked me to consult on their security.” It was only a little lie.

  “They’ve already got that big Alpha wolf Dazak over there. What do they need you for?”

  “They’re short-staffed. Ambrose said Vince needs some experienced help.” He took the glass back from Tom and put it on the table. “Although the guy seems alright to me. Bit of a hard-ass, maybe.”

  Tom snorted. “Vince Dazak need help? He ran that place for years all by himself. Let me tell you, he straightened out a lot of hanky-panky shenanigans going on out there before.”

  “What kind of shenanigans?”

  Tom shrugged. “Gambling, for one. Loose women. You know they’ve got their own still up there. That Gordon is some kind of moonshiner.”

  “Oh come on, Pops. They ran a speakeasy during Prohibition.” He’d never realized Tom was such a prude. “It’s a private amusement park now. Kind of cool, actually.”

  “Van Cleve fed off his slaves right up until the emancipation. I’m not saying he was the only slave owner in the north, but he hung onto his longer than most. And your Dad used to say they kept the Fae on as hostages.”

  “It’s nothing like that now. Just a lot of people having fun out there. Besides, that stuff is all in the past. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

  “You’re wrong, son.” Tom grabbed his arm. His grip was as powerful as a much younger man. “The Fae of the High Tor never forgive. The feud between the Fae and the Van Cleves has been going on for centuries. How do you think the Fae would react, knowing Farley Bane’s son is fraternizing with the Van Cleves? You think they’d ever be inclined to lift that Tor hound’s glamour?”

  He stared at Tom, shocked. “That’s not fair. Don’t be saying that.”

  Tom sighed. “To hear your Dad tell it, the Fae are quick to anger on an insult, slow to act on a promise, and they never, ever forgive. Think about it. Promise me you’ll stay away from those blood stewards; they’re the worst. And that Mage especially.” Tom fell back against the pillow, pale and shaking, his eyes closed. “The Van Cleves are blood suckers, Mike. Why are you defending them?”

  “I’m not.” Mike picked a piece of lint off the blanket. “I don’t know, Pops. I guess I just don’t want you to worry.” I should never have told him. He’s still too sick for any of this. He tried another tack. “Guess who I had breakfast with? Dr. Powers.”

  “Sarah?” Tom’s face smoothed out and little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. His eyelids fluttered and closed. “She’s something else isn’t she? A fine woman. I can tell she likes you. A man would have to be some kind of fool--.”

  He stayed until the snoring started. He kissed the older man’s warm forehead. “Love you, Pop. I’ll be back later.”

  CHAPTER 19 : GLADIATOR

  Silas met him at the Mythica employee entrance. “Well, well. Look who’s here,” he grinned.

  Mike could feel the heat rise in his face. “Shut up,” he grumbled. “Let’s get this thing over with,”

  “Hold on there, Romeo.” Silas handed him a case of energy drinks to carry. “What’s your rush?”

  Silas looked like the cat who’d just stolen the cream. “What are you so happy about,” Mike asked.

  The were-man shrugged and looked at his shoes, but couldn’t keep the amusement off his face. “Nothin’. I’m just glad you showed up, that’s all. Chaney was getting pretty good odds against it.”

  Mike hoisted the case under one arm and shoved his way past Silas into the park. “Glad to be of service.”

  Silas clapped him on the back. “Don’t feel bad Mike; she’s done it to most of us.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she and Trick planned it.”

  “If it helps, Trick was her last victim.”

  Mike brightened. “Well yeah, maybe that does help a little.” They reached the east gate on the other side of the park. “You seem entirely too cheerful about this.”

  Silas swiped his keycard through the reader and held the door open. “You kiddin’? With you showing up, Chaney and I stand to make a bundle. Besides, it’s been weeks since we’ve had any whup-ass around here. Everybody’s looking forward to this. Hell, Vince even got the chef over at the Bloody Fang to bring in eats afterward. It’s going to be a party.”

  “Now isn’t that just wonderful,” he muttered.

  He followed Silas down a winding game trail through the woods behind the park. They passed a prefab employee clubhouse, which Silas told him held a lounge, workout room, and showers for the pack. A hundred yards past the clubhouse, the trail widened, and opened onto a terraced area, where more than a dozen pack members waited.

  Mike stepped down three levels into a natural arena, roughly fifty feet across. Silas, Striper Dave, and five other pack members sat in a loose cluster on the right-hand side of the arena near Vince. Each were-man in this group appeared alert, calm, and relaxed. On the opposite side of the arena, a sullen, fidgety group including Striper Dave’s buddy Steve-o from the bait shop sat in a loose group around Trick Adaire. A split pack.

  He took off his shirt. Yolanda, the lone female, sat all alone in a middle tier equidistant from both groups. She smiled at him, but he ignored her; hating how she’d manipulated him so easily.

  Silas had assured him that this was nothing more than a ritualized dominance slam-dance. He would take a few good licks and demonstrate his respect for the Alpha. The only pain inflicted woul
d be to his ego.

  At this hour of the afternoon, the sun and humidity were intense. He slapped at the sweat files mobbing his hair. Vince raised his arms for silence as he stepped into the arena, wearing only an old pair of army green sweat pants.

  “This lone shifter has crossed into our territory and violated pack protocol. Many of you,” Vince nodded to the agitated group around Trick. “Have expressed your outrage and demanded a melee of retribution.”

  Mike shifted his feet uneasily. A melee would mean an all-out attack by the entire pack. The cat wouldn’t have a chance. Tehuantl…

  “Other, cooler heads have pushed for a more reasonable response, since neither of the parties directly involved is a pack member.”

  Mike could feel the aggression rolling off Trick and his friends from thirty feet away.

  “Although I have appreciated your honesty and candor in this matter, the appropriate response is mine alone to decide.” Vince glared pointedly at Yolanda, who had all her attention focused on Trick.

  “The nature of the insult requires more than a simple apology by the trespasser. Therefore, the battle will be to Omega submission after blood.” An instantaneous shout of exultation arose from Trick and his friends.

  Wait a minute. This wasn’t part of the deal. Mike looked around uncertainly. He’d come here expecting lone wolf status. He had no intention of actually joining the pack; it wasn’t part of the deal. Not only that, but he would be Omega--the lowest ranking member. He was going to have to actually fight Vince. Submission after blood precluded any simple ritual submission. This was not going to be about recognizing the dominance of the Alpha wolf any longer; this was going to be a matter of face. Once blood was drawn, control of a lycan’s beast might be impossible. Not only that, but the scent of blood and Vince’s pheromones could affect the other wolves, too. There was simply no way the cat could fight off an entire wolf pack.

  He looked to Silas, who grinned and gave him an enthusiastic, two-fisted thumbs-up. So did the guys sitting with him.