by Dakota Rebel
“So what? You’re here to tell me how great it is to be a werewolf? How turning furry once a month is the best thing that could happen to me?”
He laughed. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.
“No. No, not at all.” He closed the door and walked into the living room. “Why don’t we sit down?”
I sat on the couch and turned to face him as he sat in the chair. He looked at me for a minute before leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of himself.
“Mitch, I’ll admit that being a werewolf is not the end of the world, but I won’t lie to you. It won’t do any good to paint you some beautiful picture when you’re going to find out the truth in a couple weeks anyway. It’s a difficult life.”
“I take it Jarrod didn’t send you here to make me feel better, then?” I laughed ‘cause I didn’t know what else to do.
“He just sent me here to talk. He has no idea what I’m going to tell you, and to be honest, I didn’t really know, either. I wish I could ease your fears, but when I got infected, I had someone who tried to do that. I just ended up angry that I’d been lied to. I don’t want to lie to you. I don’t know you, but I know Jarrod. He’s a good friend, and pissing off his lover isn’t going to win me any points with him.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because he asked me to come.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. Maybe it did to him, but I wasn’t in a mood to have a meaningful conversation about the ins and outs of being a werewolf. I wanted to scream and yell and hit things. Sending a stranger to my house to talk to me while I was in this kind of mood was not the smartest thing Jarrod had ever done.
“Look. I appreciate you coming over here and being willing to talk to me, but now, isn’t really a good time. Maybe you should just go.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. You have some important decisions to make, and you don’t have a lot of time in which to make them. So I’m going to tell you the truth, then you’re going to fix things with Jarrod. You still have time to get your happily ever after, and I won’t sit here and let you fuck it up if I can help it.”
“Why do you care about me?”
“I don’t. I care about Jarrod. We’ve been friends for a long time. I sat back and watched while Skip fucked up that man for too long. I won’t let it happen again if I can do anything about it. Skip, I was afraid of. I’m not afraid of you.” He held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “Yeah, I know what you are and what you’ve done. I don’t give a fuck. You’re not going to hurt Jarrod. He’s been through too much.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. A week ago, I might have just shot this guy, but now, things were all fucked up and I felt lost. It was amazing how much Jarrod had managed to turn my world upside down. While most of it had been good, some of it was pissing me off.
“Good,” Christian said with a small smile. “Now, first off, being a werewolf sucks.”
The statement caught me so off guard I actually laughed. But when I met his eyes, the laughter faded immediately. He hadn’t been kidding.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay. I’m sure that wasn’t what you were expecting me to say. But it does. The change hurts. You lose control of who you are, how you think, everything changes. Every day, you wake up and you know you’re not human. It’s worse around the full moon, but after a few years, the feelings begin to affect you all the time. You crave horrible things. Most werewolves don’t act on them. The need for blood can be something like a vampire feels. They want it, and while they think they would do anything to get it, there’s control there. Obviously, in your line of work, you’ve run across werewolves who aren’t so reserved, but most of us can settle for animal blood.”
He sat back in the chair and looked around the room. I wanted to ask him which category he fell into but figured it was probably not a polite question so I just waited for him to start talking again.
“I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone. It’s hard to have relationships with humans because you never know if you’re going to accidentally infect them or hurt them because you’re so much stronger than they are. In the books and in the movies, they make it seem like we rally around each other and run in packs like real wolves, but usually, if you get two werewolves in a room together, they’ll just try to rip out each other’s throats. There’s something about lycanthropy that makes others intolerable to be around. So we can’t mate with each other. It’s awful.”
“Why the hell are you telling me all of this? I mean, sure I appreciate honesty, but I can’t change this. You’re just making me want to shoot myself in the head.”
He gave me a soft smile. “Because you can change it.”
I looked at him incredulously. Not only was he kind of an asshole, but he was obviously also insane.
“Before the first change, you can infect yourself with something else. Lycanthropy is a weak disease. It can’t fight off a stronger infection. Like vampirism.”
I stared at him dumbfounded. He had just boiled down my choices to being a werewolf or being a vampire. I don’t know if he thought that would make me feel better, but it didn’t.
“Well, I appreciate you stopping by, Christian. If you don’t mind I’d really like to be alone right now.” I stood and walked to the door, holding it open for him.
“Mitch, you’re upset. I get that. But it’s important that you think about this. Yes, the choices suck, but you have a choice. If you wait until the full moon, you’re out of options. Promise you’ll think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said softly.
He nodded and walked out the door. I shut it behind him and went into the kitchen hoping I had beer left. Unfortunately, the fridge was completely empty. Just fucking perfect. I grabbed my jacket off the chair where I’d thrown it, pulled out my cell phone and plugged it into the charger then took off in search of booze.
I ended up driving to Torque for lack of a better place to be. I didn’t want to sit home alone and drink all night, so I thought the club might help me feel better. Unfortunately, it was early so Torque was almost as empty as my apartment. I still ended up drinking alone at the bar for two hours before things started to pick up.
As it got later, the music got louder and more men showed up, but I didn’t know any of them so I kept my back to the dance floor and continued to nurse beer after beer while I replayed the horrific day in my head.
“Hey there, Captain America. You come here often?”
In spite of everything that had happened, I still found myself smiling at the sound of Jarrod’s voice behind me.
Chapter Seventeen
It only took a few minutes for Jarrod to convince me to go home with him. I was pretty drunk by the time he had shown up and not really in a mood to argue anymore anyway. The ride back to his loft was quiet. I think we were both trying hard not to start fighting again—at least, until we were in the privacy of his home.
He had to help me into the elevator since I kept stumbling over my own feet. I hadn’t thought I’d drunk that much, but my equilibrium proved to the contrary. I managed to make it to the couch on my own then fell unceremoniously onto my back, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.
“So, how are you doing now?” Jarrod asked softly. He sat on the floor next to me and ran his fingers lightly over my arm.
“Apparently, I’m a little drunk, but other than that, I’m all right.” I wasn’t all right, not even a little actually, but it wasn’t going to do either of us any good to rehash the afternoon. I could lie until a more appropriate time.
“You know, you’re kind of a cheater,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You know how much I like to find you drunk at gay bars. It was a little unfair of you to run and hide in the one place you knew I would find you.”
He had a cute little smirk on his face when I turned to look at him, an
d I laughed. He raised himself up on his knees so he could lean over and kiss me. I ran my hand up the back of his neck, curling his hair around my fingers while our tongues tangled together.
He sighed into my mouth, his hands digging into my arms to hold me against the couch while he climbed over me, straddling my hips and grinding against my growing erection.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I asked quietly.
“Is it ever a bad idea?”
He had a point. If nothing else, fucking was something we would always be good at together. The relationship stuff might take some work, but I would always want to fuck him.
I let him pull me to my feet and lead me to the bedroom. He shoved me down onto the bed, climbing over my body with an ease I knew I would never master. His body moved as though it were made out of liquid, so smooth and graceful. His placed his leg between my knees and laid over me, kissing me again with the same fever as in the living room. His fangs nicked the inside of my mouth, the taste of my blood drawing a growl from both of us simultaneously.
My cock was so hard by this point, it almost hurt as he ground his hip against it. I slid my hands up his back, pulling his T-shirt with them. He sat up enough to let me take off the shirt, and I threw it across the room while he tugged at mine. When we were both naked from the waist up, he fell back on me, his smooth skin cool against mine which felt as if it were on fire.
I hooked my leg behind him and forced him over so that I was on top of him. I slid down his body, kissing over his neck and chest, sucking one of his nipples into my mouth and rolling my tongue around it until he moaned for me.
“Mitch, I want you to fuck me,” he said.
“Later.” I had kissed my way to the waistband of his jeans and used my teeth to unbutton them then the zipper. I wanted him, too, more than I had ever imagined I could want a man, but there were things I needed to do to him first.
He raised his hips for me so I could pull off his pants. I threw them to the floor before slamming my mouth over his cock. He gripped my hair between his fingers, yanking roughly at it and making me moan around him. His pre-cum hit the back of my tongue, and I moaned harder, reveling in the taste of him.
I gripped the base of his cock in my hand, moving my fist in time with my lips, up and down his shaft, pausing occasionally to swirl my tongue over his head then taking him down my throat again.
“Mitch, please.” He clawed at my arms, trying to pull me back up his body.
“You never let me have any fun,” I said, releasing him from my mouth.
“Is that so?” He laughed, sliding to the edge of the bed to rifle through his beside drawer. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess I’ll just go find something else to occupy myself.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” I said, reaching for his arm to pull him back into bed. “When I said never I meant always.”
“Take off your pants,” Jarrod growled.
I stripped down quickly, throwing my jeans to the floor next to him before lying back down on the bed.
I watched him rip the condom package open with his teeth and roll it down his cock. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just smiled and nudged me onto my stomach with his hand on my shoulder.
I turned for him, letting him raise my hips to the level he wanted and holding myself steady on my elbows. I hissed at the cold lube he dripped on my ass then made myself relax as his fingers played lightly against my opening. He pushed two fingers slowly inside me, crooking them slightly to pulse against the sweet spot in my ass.
When he finally drew a moan from me, he started to work his fingers in and out for a few minutes until he felt I was ready to take him inside me. As I felt the head of his cock push past my tight ring of muscles, I had to wonder if I would ever not be ready for him or ever not want him inside of me. Then he was moving, and all thought was washed away at the feel of him sliding in and out of my ass.
His fingers dug into my hips as he slammed faster and faster inside of me. I tried to move my hips with him, but he gripped me harder, holding me still so he could set the pace he wanted.
“Touch yourself,” he demanded. “Play with your cock, and come for me.”
I moved my hand to slide it over my shaft, swirling my pre-cum around to get my hand slick. Jarrod slammed into me so hard I heard his balls slapping against my ass, and I struggled to focus on jerking myself off for him.
“Are you close, baby?” he whispered. His rhythm started to falter, and I knew that he was. “I want you to come with me. Mitch, please.”
His “please” pushed me over the edge, and I screamed out, coming in hot spurts on my hand while he dug his nails into my hips again and cried my name as he came inside of me. I collapsed under him as he fell onto my back. He climbed off me and threw away the condom in the trashcan next to the bed before flopping onto his back.
I felt an intense feeling of relief as we lay in the dark together, sweaty and panting, our hands clasped together as if either of us would float away if we let go. My decision was made, and while it wasn’t going to be hearts and flowers all the time, spending the rest of forever with Jarrod was better than any alternative I could think of.
“Hey, are you still awake?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up?”
“Did Christian come talk to you today?”
“Yeah he did. I was actually just thinking about that. Thanks for sending him over.”
Jarrod squeezed my hand a little. “Can I ask what he said?”
“He told me that being a werewolf sucks, and it’s awful, and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.”
Jarrod laughed as I’d done earlier when Christian had said it. His laughter faded when I didn’t join in. He turned on his side and ran a finger up and down the crook of my elbow.
“I’m sorry, that wasn’t really what I was looking for him to do for you.”
“I know. It’s good actually because he told me that there’s a way to avoid this happening. I really need to talk to you about it. After the first full moon, it will be too late.” I blew out a sigh as I got up the courage to go on. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think that I would really prefer to be—”
“Don’t,” Jarrod whispered. “Please don’t.”
I hadn’t noticed until he’d spoken that he had gone completely still next to me as I’d told him about my conversation with Christian.
“What?” I asked. “Jarrod, what’s wrong.”
“Mitch, I can’t do this.” He rolled over and climbed out of bed. When he started pulling on his jeans, I jumped up and grabbed his arms.
“What the hell is going on? You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
He struggled against me, breaking free of my hands and buttoning his jeans into place.
“Yes, I do, and I can’t. I can’t make you a vampire. I won’t.”
Momentarily frozen to the spot, I watched him walk out of the room. I was completely confused by what had just happened. When I finally came back to my senses, I wrenched on my own jeans and followed him out.
“Jarrod, will you fucking wait a minute, please?” I looked around but didn’t see him in the living room. I blew out a sigh, listening for some clue as to where he had gone, then I heard the sound of a guitar playing down the hallway. I walked quickly to the studio and watched him from the door for a minute.
He sat with his back to me, looking out the large picture window with his guitar in his lap. I didn’t recognize the song. It was more like he just stroked the strings and made noise to be doing something. I walked into the room and leaned against a speaker looking at him.
“I need you to talk to me,” I said finally.
He put down the guitar and stood before walking past me to the window. He pressed his palms flat against the glass and sighed heavily.
“Look, Mitch, I love you. I’m sure whatever Christian said to you was scary, but I just can’t make you vampire.”
“Can you tell me why?”
<
br /> “I’ve only turned one other person, and it did not go well. In fact, it was awful. I can’t do to you what I did to him. I just can’t bear the thought of it.”
“Jarrod, you’re not making any sense.” I tried really hard to understand him, but I just didn’t. He had told me only hours before that he didn’t remember what it was like for him to lose his humanity, and he had never so much as hinted that he didn’t enjoy his life. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to make him unwilling to help me.
“Skip was already a werewolf when I met him. And he hated it. He had heard that vampirism can kill lycanthropy and begged me to infect him. We sought out help from older vampires and weres but were told it only works before the first full moon. Skip wouldn’t let the idea go that, if I infected him often enough, eventually I could kill off the other infection in him.”
“Why would he think that? After you were told it wouldn’t work, why would he push you like that?”
“Because he knew he would win. I loved him, and I would have done anything he asked me to do. So every night I infected him. Even when he was almost dying from the vampirism attacking the lycanthropy in his blood, he begged me to do it again and again, and I did. Over and over, I fed him my blood. I would hold him while he vomited and had violent seizures. Even the week he went completely blind, he made me do it. It was the most horrific thing I have ever witnessed. He was in so much pain. Some days he couldn’t even talk, but he would cling to me, and if I didn’t open my vein for him, he would try to attack me.”
“Why didn’t you stop it sooner? Why would you let him do that to you?”
“To me?” He laughed harshly. “I was doing it to him.”
“Because he made you! Why did you let it go on so long? Why didn’t you just leave?”
“He told me that, if I loved him, I would do anything for him, sacrifice everything for him, and I did. I loved him so much I sacrificed who I was and what I believed in. I might have regretted what I did to him, but I’ve never regretted proving to him how much I loved him.”
