Jared
Jared ran as fast as his body would let him. He didn't see or hear anyone. There were people, but their faces were shapeless, meaningless, empty to him. He exploded out of Statsby Hall like a small hurricane, running the pizza guy over without hesitating or stopping. He didn't know where to go, but it didn't matter. If push came to shove, he would scent his way through the city, follow the trails Darwin had left hours before.
His face partially shifted and he didn't care. It was night and he was full-out sprinting, nobody would get a good look his face and he needed his increased wolf senses to track Darwin. A few late passersby gasped and quickly scurried out of his way when he shot past them, but otherwise he had the streets all to himself.
When he reached the gravel road leading to the edge of the highway and two of Darwin's tracks mingled, he stopped for a second and jogged a wide circle to find the fresher trail. There was no distinction between his wolf half and his human half at this point: Both wanted to find Darwin, both agreed on the actions needed to get there. He had never felt this much at peace with his inhumanity before, starting off again as soon as he had the scents sorted out without hesitation.
The fresher trail led to George's house and he rounded it twice to look into the windows, but didn't intrude when he again found another trail leading away from it. The information that Darwin wasn't there anymore was enough to not bother going in.
Darwin must have been in a car on this part of the route and it made tracking hard work. Jared slowed down, trying his best to stay on the scent, but the delay just fed into his panic and rage. When he reached the intersection at the main road where a smaller concrete path led into the hilly woods, his arms and back had grown gray fur that gradually and painfully seeped through his skin. As a born werewolf, his shifting usually went smoothly, controlled and with little pain, but the running around and the panic weakened his control over his body. His wolf-self tried to wrestle its way to freedom bit by bit.
'When we find whoever hurt him', Jared whispered in his mind, 'you'll have full control over his punishment. Just wait until then.' He wanted nothing more than to let his wolf-self take over, but they still were within city limits and the risks of being detected and maybe even shot at were still too high. He help if he got himself injured or killed.
The trail led Jared along and up the side road. He stopped when he saw a bicyclist working his way through the darkness and up the steep hill further along the way. Being seen in his state of change would mean killing the bicyclist and that would cost him more precious time— not worth the risk. He scurried off the road and into the woods.
In the darker forest, Jared let his wolf take over navigating them through the brush. His face shifted further, taking the shape of a wolf's head and giving him access to better night vision, hearing and smelling. The downside of being cursed proved to be an upside this night. As he leapt over fallen trunks, dodged trees and branches, and evaded burrows, his trousers and his shirt ripped and shredded under the pressure of growing muscles and fur. Once or twice, the man-beast stopped and raised his muzzle to scent the nightly winds, but it took another ten minutes until the smell of blood hit him and made him skid to a halt.
It didn't make him think of food, it made him growl with triumph.
Darwin.
With a low yip, he started running again, zigzagging through smaller and denser groups of trees, and he only slowed when he smelled another werewolf. He could see the edge of the forest. Between the trees stood a werewolf dressed just like the bicyclist he had seen on the road. On the ground in front of the stranger lay Darwin, bloodied and lifeless.
Jared didn't stop to find out if he was friend or foe. He didn't hesitate, didn't want to hesitate. He tackled the other werewolf at full speed and burrowed his claws into his flesh to rip bits and pieces out of him until he stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped being.
His fury was so intense, he didn't spare a thought to the feeling of triumph when his victim lay dead and broken before him. He turned around with shivering muscles and carefully picked up Darwin's unconscious body. His instincts told him to retreat, so that was what he would do. Go somewhere where they were safe, nurture the wounds of his mate, and then take revenge.
While Jared's human side pondered over the thought of having a mate, the wolf started running again, towards the city of Banes.
The hotel stank even from the outside, matching the dilapidated district surrounding it. Jared had seen hookers standing in front of it as early as five p.m. on the few times he had passed it by, disappearing into a room whenever a 'customer' approached them, but the sign close to the entrance proclaimed that rooms could also be rented by the day. However long people generally stayed, it was obvious that the rooms were never cleaned. Not that it mattered at this moment, Jared didn’t plan to actually stay.
Three cars were parked in front of the street side and no security camera in sight. Jared gently put Darwin on the ground around the corner from the entrance and checked his pulse. The unconscious werewolf was nothing but a bloody, lifeless heap with a slow, hesitant heartbeat that drove Jared near mad with worry, but he didn't seem to get any worse for now.
The wolf still lurked close to the surface, itchy and aggressive, but also sharpening his senses as he peeked around the corner to observe the parking area and the hotel rooms. There were a few lights on here and there and the soft sing-song of a TV show drifted through the ratty windows of the reception area, but besides that, the place looked deserted.
Jared couldn't carry Darwin around any longer. The jerky movements worsened Darwin's condition with every mile they walked. He needed a car and he needed it fast. His own Volkswagen Beetle was at the university and carrying Darwin there was not acceptable. Of course, he could always steal a car, but he wanted more than that. He wanted a specific car.
Crouching down next to Darwin, he brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, kissed his forehead and whispered, "I'll be back real soon, I promise." He got up, shook himself and approached the hotel's entrance in a jog.
The receptionist lost all color in his face when Jared barged in, but Jared didn't give him much notice. "I need to make a call. Give me your phone," he ordered the shocked guy behind the desk and grabbed the phone without waiting for an answer.
It took five minutes to get in touch with the doctor on call, but even though Jared fought the urge to reach through the line and pull the poor guy through the cables, he managed to make it sound urgent but not urgent enough for an ambulance. "We're in the last room on the front, please hurry," he whined and hung up. The receptionist had an uneasy look about him, but it took just one hard glance to make him look away. To be sure he didn’t do anything stupid- like call the police-, Jared hissed, "Don't even think about it, you hear me?", and walked off without waiting for an answer.
He left the reception and ran the long route around the building. If the receptionist watched him, he didn’t want to tip him off on his intentions. Darwin's only chance at survival was a perfect emergency first responder car-theft.
He didn't know how much time passed, but watching Darwin's chest struggle with each breath made it feel like hours. When a car turned into the hotel parking area, Jared couldn't suppress an agitated growl. He peeked around the corner once more and nearly hooted with triumph when he saw the doctor's car standing right there, next to the reception entrance. The doctor on call got out of it and wandered off, looking around. He didn't lock the car.
Jared scooped up Darwin from the floor and hushed him soothingly when he made a pained sound. He snuck out of their hiding spot and to the car. Sure enough, the key was still in the ignition. Thank god for country bumpkin naiveté! It was the dumbest luck Jared had ever had.
He put Darwin on the back seats, opened the front passenger door and scooted behind the wheel, just as the clueless doctor knocked on the last hotel room door, far, far away from his car. He only realized the whole scheme when the engine of his car roared to life and da
shed out of the parking area with screeching tires.
Jared headed back into the city. When they passed through a short stretch of acres and wilderness right next to the city limits, he left the road to turn into one of the dirt roads, drove for thirty minutes further into the countryside and finally happened upon an empty hunting cabin. Jared broke the lock on the door and carried first Darwin inside, then the big first aid kit, then drove the car another five miles further, left it there and jogged back to the cabin.
Exhausted and even more tired than before, he barred the door, walked over to Darwin's sleeping form, and collapsed to his knees. They finally were in a safe place.
Jared couldn't do much for Darwin except taking care of the injuries as best as he could. He found a bottle of medical morphine and syringes in the kit and injected Darwin with a dosage that would have been deadly for a mere human and enough to drug a hurt werewolf into submission. The mere thought of hurting him too much to work without anesthesia tightened his chest.
It felt wrong to undress Darwin like this, with the stench of pain in the air and the intermittent sounds of broken bones grinding against each other. It sickened Jared and it ruined the last twinge of thrill on seeing him naked again. This was not how Jared had imagined it happening, not even close. All the cuts and the giant bruises on his skin only made it worse. Jared shivered with rage, with helpless worry, trying not to think about the amount of force necessary to hurt Darwin this much. Whatever notion of heroism or romance he had held before, treating those injuries snuffed them out and left him gagging and close to tears.
Just as he started working on the broken fingers, Darwin began to move sluggishly and weakly. Those beautiful ice-blue eyes opened and moved aimlessly over the ceiling, the walls and finally Jared, but there was no recognition in them. He didn't seem to register Jared's presence, much less his own pain when he tried to sit up.
"If they'd told me morphine would make you trip like this, I'd have waited." Jared grinned faintly. It was bloody relieving to see that much life in the boy, even though he still was pretty out of it. Staring blearily at nothing in particular, Darwin moved his all but puree-ed fingers, and though he didn't seem to feel actual pain, his body wavered a bit.
Jared got the first plaster bandage ready and tried again. "Do you remember where you are?" he asked and grabbed Darwin's left hand to tend to his breaks.
This time he answered, although haltingly and disjointedly. "It is very bright here. I don't like the roses," Darwin muttered and tried to curl the fingers Jared had just encased with plaster.
Jared cursed when the wet plaster bent a bit. "Stop moving around, you're making it worse!" He quickly picked up more of the coated bandages and finished the other fingers, including the rest of Darwin's Hand just to be sure.
And just when Jared thought he had Darwin's cooperation, that insufferable guy moved his right hand. "I said stop moving, damn it." Jared grabbed his wrist.
"I love you," Darwin whispered. Then he collapsed again.
Jared blinked. "Wait, what?"
Darwin
He lay in a bed of roses. No, not a bed of roses, but a bed with white satin sheets, covered with uncountable numbers of rose petals. The air was mild, if a bit cool, and the soft breeze stroked his body every so often, raising the hairs on his arms and chest where they met the wind. The room was so very white, he was blinded by it, but it didn't matter. He sat up, brushed a few of the beautiful petals from his abs and thighs, and looked around confusedly. There was nothing else in this snow white room, only the bed, the bright red petals, and himself.
His fingers were numb, so he balled them into fists a few times. The world swam and wobbled. His vision blurred, just like on a broken camera, but when he sat still for a few heartbeats, it stopped and everything came into focus again. Then the contrasts grew more and more intense, the piercing white started hurting in his eyes, and the red splotches on the bed sheets turned darker and darker, burning themselves into his vision.
"If they'd told me morphine would make you trip like this, I'd have waited."
The voice came out of nowhere, dull and amphoric, but Darwin recognized it. He knew the owner of the voice, he couldn't quite pinpoint who it was. It made Darwin's heart race with some unknown emotion, but in the place he was, that made no sense. There was no reason for something like panic, or joy, right? And if there was, he would have been told by...
He couldn't remember. It didn't matter.
He licked his lips, only to find them already wet with a thick, tasteless fluid that had turned sticky on the edges. He wanted to ask why everything was so damn bright, but he just didn't seem to be able to grasp his own thoughts, or put them into words. It was the strangest feeling.
"Do you remember where you are?"
That voice again. It made him shiver with anticipation, pulled words out of his spinning head.
"It is very bright here. I don't like the roses," Darwin mumbled, because it was the first thing that came to his mind. He couldn't have stopped his blabbering if his life depended on it.
Something tugged at his left arm, but when he turned his head he didn't see anything but blurs and streaming colors.
"Stop moving around, you're making it worse." That voice again. Darwin liked that voice, it filled this strange place with giddy feelings and happiness. The fingers on his left hand became stiff, so he tried his right hand.
The world wavered again. "I said stop moving, damn it!" said the voice again, and Darwin smiled happily.
"I love you," he said, and sighed. Then everything went away once more.
The world was back to normal when Darwin woke up again. This particular 'normal' included throbbing pain throughout his whole body, but it was a healthy, stable agony, filled with the scent of sunshine and wood, warm and cozy. He still couldn't use his right eye, but it didn't hurt in that alarming way it had before, it just... hurt.
His hands felt heavy and he couldn't move his fingers, but that also was somehow calming. A bandage enclosed his stomach and back, another went around his upper left thigh, and a blanket covered most of his body, giving warmth.
Another source of warmth was the massive body right next to him. A broad back touched his elbow and it sent him into a state of sudden panic. Gasping for air, he tried sitting up, but all he accomplished was rousing that other body from sleep and into full alarm.
"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" a voice rasped, drowsy but attentive. The body wiggled until Jared's face came into view.
Jared, of all people.
Darwin tried to back away, to get some kind of distance between him and that way too attractive bastard, but the wall was right at his back. "Where am I? What are you doing here?" A short pause, then he barked, "And why the fuck are you naked!"
He answered with an irritatingly slow grin, but at least Jared rolled off the small camp bed and grabbed his tattered trousers. "We're in a hunting cabin somewhere east of Banes." He put on the pants, stood up, and walked through the tiny room to a shelf filled with canned goods. "I saved you, that's why I'm here." Grabbing a can of peaches and a can opener he turned and showed a dazzling smile, answering the last non-question. "I was naked to give you more skin contact. You were shivering."
For a few seconds, Darwin was speechless and just stared as Jared cranked open the can. Only when Jared walked back to the bed did he wake from his trance and turned his eyes away.
"You saved my life. Thank you."
The camp bed creaked when Jared settled his weight onto the edge. He peeled the can lid up. "Don't mention it. You must be hungry. Here." A shiny slice of peach hovered into Darwin's line of sight, held up by two fingers. Somehow it made him angry.
"I can eat without your help, damn it!" he protested and lifted his arms, only to find himself confronted with plaster cast and ultimately useless fingers. The peach wobbled a bit, then sunk down to touch his lips.
"Stop being a fairy and eat." Jared stuffed Darwin's opening mouth with the slice before he c
ould protest any more. The food felt so good going down, he didn't try to speak again until the can was empty. Now that the hunger was gone, he got drowsy and tired and had a hard time not falling asleep on the spot.
"Why didn't Harry come?" he asked as his eyelids drooped.
"Because that guy would have killed him, right after finishing you off."
Jared
The fever came a few hours later, as expected. Werewolves heated up like ovens when healing and Darwin had suffered innumerable injuries, so no surprise there. When Darwin's temperature climbed over 102 °F in the afternoon of the following day, though, Jared had to admit that wet rags and cold sponge baths weren't going to quite cut it any longer. He got Harry’s number from Darwin’s phone, then walked outside to get better reception and dialed from his own cell.
It took a while for Harry to answer, but eight persistent rings later he picked up. "Hello?" Harry's soggy voice told stories of tears and sleepless nights. Very melodramatic.
"It's me, Jared. I found Darwin, but he's hurt," Jared said without thinking. When Harry hyperventilated on the other end of the line, he wanted to kick himself. Way to go breaking the news!
"Where are you? Where is he? Can I talk to him?" Harry's sudden spurt of fear was audible enough to make Jared clench his teeth in jealousy. How dare that little Texan twink have feelings for his mate, damn him! But the last few days had been a learning experience for Jared. He swallowed his anger enough to keep it out of his words, if not his voice.
"No you can't. He's got healing fever and it's getting worse, so I need you to do something for me. Are you listening?"
Harry shut up, but the soft crunching of the phone's plastic casing being squeezed echoed through the line.
"What do you need?" Harry hissed, barely controlling his agitation.
Unwilling: a shifter romance Page 7
