Dan grinned as Paul snickered at her deliberate pun. “A worthy cause.” He slipped an extra five into the general collection jar.
“Mom and Dad think so.” She nodded at the middle-aged couple at a booth across the way with several more blond children in tow. “Thanks.”
They walked on, checking out the other work by local artisans. Metal sculpture, concrete faces to be nailed to trees, making them look like ents, a variety of handmade clothing, jewelry and purses. The September sun beat down and Paul could feel his neck starting to burn.
They worked their way north to Central and stopped into the little Stop-n-Rob for a Coke before beginning the trek back south. The crowds were growing steadily thicker, and Cooper was sidewalk-to-sidewalk people. Paul caught Dan’s fingers as they pressed through the crowd, heedless of the danger. Dan shook free almost at once.
Once back in Dan’s apartment, Paul scowled at him. Dan returned it.
“This isn’t Wisconsin, lover. They kill us down here and the cops applaud. Don’t touch me in public again.” He moved in closer. “I love you, babe, and I don’t want to die any more than you do.”
“Don’t order me around again,” Paul growled, biting at his neck. He was in a really foul mood, between the crowd and the other were’s shop.
“Don’t do stupid shit and I won’t have to!” Dan’s beard crept over his face with startling speed, his eyebrows growing bushier.
He snarled. Paul snarled back, his own hands hairy and large. They circled. Dan snarled again at the smell of intruder on his territory. Paul growled low, off his territory, but an alpha wolf all the same. He launched himself at Dan, tumbling them both onto the futon.
Dan scratched at him, his own nails grown thick and claw-like. They didn’t connect. The men rolled over and onto the floor, Paul getting the top by dint of size. He snarled down at Furball, his face feral. Then, he kissed his mate.
He flipped Dan over, pressing the ridge in his jeans against Dan’s denim-clad butt. “Pound you through the floor, pup,” he growled.
“Yes!” Dan swiped back and laid open his shirt with claws.
Paul tore his jeans open, and shredded Dan’s with nails grown into claws. The lubricant was in easy reach or he’d have made do with spit. He was inside in seconds, low growls instead of love words. Dan beneath him was hairier than normal himself, and rose to meet every thrust.
This time, Paul actually howled when he came. A thumping on the floor from the downstairs neighbors made him grin sheepishly.
Dan laughed, having already come. “Time to go, lover. You feel better?”
Paul nodded and dug for fresh jeans while Dan went to change for the trip to the farm.
***
From the sound of it, Paul had expected the change hut to be a rickety hunting shack in the woods. It was a small, neat building comprised of a single room with a large eastern window. It had a dog door in the main door.
There were shelves on the wall, in easy reach of a man but too high for a wolf. Grandfather laughed and set his shoes on them, then ruffled Dan’s curls.
“Our Danior, he was a shoe chewer. I thought he’d never grow out of it. So we added the shelves.”
Dan looked mortified and pleased. If they were down to embarrassing adolescent stories, Paul was part of the family, at least as far as Grandfather was concerned.
Zoltan ignored all this and filled a small, low horse tank. Dan got a couple blankets off the shelf and dropped them near a similar pile.
“Not quite as domesticated as you, BB.” He drew Paul to stand at the window.
“Not bad. You have a good view.” He watched the sky change color as the sun set.
Dan kissed him and started stripping out of his clothes. Less easy with the other males in the room, Paul did the same, only slower. He folded them next to Dan’s on the shelf and went to sit with Dan on the pile of blankets. Paul could smell the Dan-wolf all over the one pile of blankets. He tried stay on his own.
Thinking the older men were absorbed in the sunset, Paul stole a last kiss. From the corner of his eye, he saw Grandfather smile. Then the world went black and white.
In his human mind, Paul knew he hadn’t eaten enough to make the wolf sleep. As a wolf, he didn’t care. His mate was nearby. He could smell water and the den of his mate’s pack.
He pounced his mate, biting playfully at Dan’s ruff. Dan-mate whined and rolled over. He licked his mate.
A sharp bark from Grandfather-leader drew their attention. Grandfather-leader bounded out the door. Zoltan followed, lean and black, a hungry look in his yellow eyes.
The next bark segued into a howl as Grandfather-leader greeted the Moon-Mother. Zoltan joined it. Paul hesitated but Dan-mate made up their minds by bouncing out the door to sing. Paul couldn’t bear to be inside another minute. He nudged the dog door, scratching and whining. Finally, he butted his way through the swinging flap.
The night exploded all over him. Earth under his paws. A million new and exciting smells in his nose. The howl came again. He sat beside his mate and sang the Moon up.
There had never been such a night. Moon-Mother hung full and bright. The air was warm. Paul ran for miles, for sheer joy of running on four feet. Through the wooded acreage, into empty pastures where the scent of calves made him complain they were not there to eat and then back to the creek side where Dan-mate was splashing.
Dan-mate shook off and submitted to the mating when Paul nipped him again. Both gave voice as they finished.
Distracted by the smell of rabbit, Paul cuffed him playfully and bounded off. Dan followed and they found the warren.
The hot blood in his mouth intoxicated him, and he devoured the rabbit as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. They ran together, playing and tumbling like pups. Tired at last, they loped back to the hut and curled up on their blankets.
Paul woke, smiling. He was wrapped protectively around his mate, Dan nestled into his chest. He understood Dan’s contempt for his basement now. The very thought felt like a cage.
“Morning, boys.” Grandfather strolled in, dressed and smiled at them. “Breakfast is ready. Don’t dawdle.” He winked.
Paul nudged Dan. “Breakfast, babe.”
Dan stretched and yawned with a gratuitous tongue curl that tempted Paul to forget the injunction about dawdling. “Morning, BB. I could get used to this, you know?”
“Yeah, in a bed, though.” Paul sat up, stretched and creaked a little. “Hard floor.”
“Geriatric case.” Dan tossed him his clothes.
“Insatiable pup. Let’s go for breakfast.”
***
Breakfast was fine, but Sunday dinner was more tense, if possible, than Thursday’s had been. Corin and Cian had accepted the invitation, and came to the farm for lunch. Mama and the aunts put on a good spread, mixing Hungarian dishes with old-fashioned Southern cooking. The Irish visitors tried to keep the conversation light, as did Grandfather. They talked of places they’d lived in their wanderings, of all the places they’d seen.
“And what do you think of Memphis?” Uncle Zoltan asked, his smile too wide with too many teeth.
“We are enjoying the city a great deal,” Cian answered.
“And the cottage in Mississippi is comfortable when I require a change.” Corin’s bristling did not go unmarked by the rest of the family.
Zoltan nodded. “I wonder, though, if you might not find an Arkansas property more to your liking. It’s a swamp, but there is very good hunting in the river bottoms I hear.” The implication of dividing the territory, with the river as boundary line, was very clear.
Dan spoke up. “When I finish my teaching contract for this semester, I’m moving to Wisconsin.” The announcement lay on the table, putting an end to the sparring. He nodded to their guests. “I must impinge upon your area for few more months. But since we both leave the city to change, it should be no problem.”
“Lad, we’re the ones who moved in on you. Don’t let us drive you out,” Cian said.
Paul just looked at his plate. He never meant to take his lover away from his family. He didn’t like the cold silence that greeted Dan’s announcement.
***
They knew it was a bad idea, but the argument had run too late for Corin and Cian to make it safely home.
“You take Dan’s room, Cian,” Grandfather said. “I’ll look out for your mate.”
“Thank you, sir,” Cian smiled.
“Time to go.” Grandfather opened the glass doors to the yard. These had struck Paul as
ridiculous from the first time he’d seen them. He had visions of bursting through them in wolf form and eating Dan’s sisters or mother. He knew he’d seen too many movies.
As they walked out into the woods, Grandfather explained the change hut. He pulled a metal spiral--a dog stake, Paul realized--off a shelf. “Zoltan, do you need to be leashed, Son, or can you behave?”
“I’ll be fine, Father.” Zoltan busied himself filling the water pool.
Paul didn’t like the look in Zoltan’s eyes. He exchanged glances with Dan and saw the same worry on his mate’s face. They’d spent the afternoon near Corin, listening to his stories and acclimating to his scent. Grandfather had done the same. Uncle Zoltan had not, he had merely picked the fight that detained the visitors.
The excellent dinner weighed in Paul’s stomach. All he wanted tonight was a nice long nap. Dan yawned beside him as they walked into the hut.
“Your mom’s a good cook, pup,” Paul said.
“Tell her, not me,” Dan snapped.
“Touchy, touchy.” Paul circled his waist, yanked him close. “Maybe you need a reminder who the alpha wolf is?” He nipped at Dan’s neck.
Dan cuffed him upside the head, a snarl on his face. He said nothing, merely growled low in his throat. He felt the family tensions reaching the breaking point as well.
Paul backed off. “Sorry, Furball. I was teasing.”
“Don’t.” Dan hadn’t stopped snarling. “It’s too close to time.”
Paul could tell. He knew he was out of line. Dan stripped fast and arranged a bed for their guest before he sat down on his own blankets. He rose to turn, sniffing worriedly, every few minutes.
Paul folded his clothes onto the shelf and sat beside his mate, pulling him close. “I’m sorry, pup.” He stroked Dan’s curly hair, rubbed along his jaw and ears as Dan liked best. “I love you.”
Dan kissed him as the sun began to set. “Love you, too. Is my bed still in the basement?”
Paul nodded. “Water bowl too.” The last word turned to a howl as the change came upon him. Around him, he heard the groans of the others and his own noises of pain. Then Grandfather gave tongue, the primal cry of their people, and the pain was gone.
Paul ran on four paws, the night his playground. He paused with the pack to sing Mother-Moon up. Grandfather-leader loped off on his own business. Zoltan headed for the creek, the smell of anger on him. Corin-guest howled again then touched noses with Dan-mate.
Dan-mate touched back, and touched nose-to-tail as a gesture of welcome. Paul circled them and touched noses with Corin-guest. Corin-guest gave a bark and ran for the woods. Paul circled Dan-mate. He pounced.
Dan-mate mock-fought, puppy playful. Paul mounted, dominating, and Dan-mate howled joy to the Moon. When finished, Paul sat back and licked himself, licked Dan-mate. He butted Dan-mate, herding him back to bed. They curled together like puppies and slept.
Fighting from outside woke them. The moon was high and bright. Zoltan launched himself at Corin, trying for his throat. Grandfather intervened, his grey body a wall between the lean black shape of Zoltan and the stockier brindled wolf that was Corin. He butted Zoltan away.
Grandfather touched noses and nose-to-tail with Corin, signaling his welcome in the pack territory. Zoltan snarled again. Before he could launch himself, Paul rammed him from the side and Dan bit at his tail.
Zoltan turned on them. Dan snapped again and extricated himself. Zoltan and Paul circled, snarling and snapping. Dan touched noses and nose-to-tail with Corin again, reiterating the welcome. They stood back to the watch the fight.
Zoltan cornered Paul near a large magnolia tree. Paul whimpered and presented himself for mounting, acknowledging Zoltan’s dominance. When Zoltan bit his ruff, Paul clawed back with his raised hind legs. He flipped them over, foreclaws searching for Zoltan’s soft belly. He bit and clawed, tasting blood from a bitten foreleg. He could smell Zoltan’s fear. Finally, he got the black wolf down, belly up under him. He went for the throat.
Grandfather slammed into them from the side, snarling. They were knocked apart. Grandfather backed Paul off. Paul tucked tail and sidled back to Dan. Dan licked his bites.
Zoltan turned on Grandfather, leaping at his undefended flank. Dan barked a warning too late. Over and over the wolves rolled, each seeking the bite or claw that would force the other to pull away. Blood hung heavy in the night, covering the smoke and leaf-spice of autumn.
They broke apart to circle again, snarling. Zoltan was bleeding from bites and scratches.
Grandfather favored his left hind leg. With a growl, Zoltan attacked his father again.
Paul tried to go to Grandfather’s aid and Dan stopped him. He understood. The battle for pack leadership had been brewing like the thunderstorm and had just broken in a cloudburst of blood and fur. He and Corin had only been catalysts, not causes.
***
Corin sat away from the family, licking his wounds and watching. He had no doubt that if Grandfather lost, his own throat, then Paul’s, would be Zoltan’s next targets.
Grandfather set his teeth to Zoltan’s throat and nipped hard enough to draw blood. Then he climbed off and turned his back on Zoltan. He kicked dirt over the black wolf as if burying him like a piece of waste. Zoltan whined and limped off into the night.
Corin touched noses with Grandfather, then licked one of the bites. Grandfather licked him back and went into the hut. He settled his shaggy grey body on his bed. Corin licked the nearest wound. Dan approached and touched noses with Grandfather and Corin before settling in to lick the bite on Grandfather’s flank. Paul walked over slowly. He touched noses and licked the scratch on Grandfather’s back.
They licked the old wolf, nuzzling and caring for him. Then they slept, all together like a pile of pups.
At dawn, they dressed and returned to the house. Zoltan arrived just as they were finishing the first round of breakfast.
“Father, I--”
“No.” Grandfather sent his coffee mug down too hard and the flatware rattled. “Do not apologize. You did as you thought wisest, son. I’m proud of you. I raised you well and taught you right. Some night you will tear out my throat as is our way. But last night was not the night.”
Zoltan sat and started on the sausage and eggs. “Mr. Faw, I am sorry. I had no business
attacking a guest of the pack.”
Corin nodded, thick eyebrows knit over his coffee. “That you didn’t, lad. But I forgive you for being a young hothead with more pride than sense.”
Dan hid a snicker with his biscuit. His mother caught it and hit him with the spatula as she set another bowl of scrambled eggs before the weres. The rest of the family was long finished. Aunt Rita fussed over Zoltan’s wounds. Cian was hovering, checking Corin over.
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