Were-Geeks Save Lake Wacka Wacka

by Kathy Lyons

  Now that was something Bruce understood. He started cleaning out Wulfric’s wounds. He was as gentle as he could be, but the guy’s face needed a plastic surgeon. “I don’t usually work on this end,” he said. “I’m the ‘scoop them up and get them to a hospital’ guy.”

  “And now you’re the werewolf who eats a fairy apple so he can save the world.”

  Bruce didn’t even blink. “There’s lots of irony there too, if you care to look.”

  “I am. Believe me, I am.”

  Well, wasn’t that cryptic? “Care to explain how I’m going to do that?”

  “You’re the one who ate the apple. Don’t you know?”

  Bruce shook his head. “All I’ve got is a bunch of murderous fairies telling me I’m going to save them.”

  “My mother says it too. About you saving the world.”

  Great. “I just came here to help my brother.”

  “He’s the one guy who doesn’t need it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve already figured that out, but thanks for poking at the wound anyway.” He dabbed hard on a crusted-over abrasion. Wulfric didn’t so much as blink.

  “Tit for tat,” the man answered. And when Bruce shot him a confused look, he smiled. “You’re poking at my wounds.”

  Right. Banter. He was trading quips with a two-hundred-year-old werewolf who didn’t believe in magic. Could his life get any weirder? “You really need a doctor. And a plastic surgeon.”

  “My mother will make me pretty again once this is done.”

  “And if it gets infected?”

  Wulfric stretched to the bedside table and pulled open a drawer. There were pill bottles in there. A quick scan showed them to be heavy-hitter antibiotics and the hydrocodone.

  Bruce nodded. “What about other pains? Bones? Joints? Are you having any trouble breathing? Heart palpitations?” He ran through the standard litany. Wulfric shook his head for each one. “Are you lying to me?”

  “Would it matter if I was?”

  “To me? Not in the least. To you, if you suddenly keel over from sepsis? Yeah, probably.” Or maybe not, given that Wulfric didn’t seem to care if he lived or died.

  “I’m not lying. It takes too much effort.”

  “Says the guy with the fairy glamour.”

  “That was put on me years ago. I couldn’t take it down if I tried.”

  That explained the hero worship Bruce heard in everyone’s voice whenever they mentioned Wulfric. Bruce kept working on the wounds. He stopped when Nero came in with a couple of bowls of broth, two smoothies, and some sports drinks. And one straw.

  Nero set everything down on the edge of the bed, his gaze turning sharp the moment he saw the bloody water in the basin and the antibiotic cream that Bruce had been using.

  “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that, Wulfric?”

  The superimposed image was back, and it showed a healthy Wulfric grinning. “I do try.”

  Nero looked at Bruce. “He going to live?”

  “Probably. But he needs to be watched closely. He ought to be in a hospital.”

  “They can’t see through the fairy shit.”

  Right. That did cause a problem.

  “I’ve survived for two hundred years. I’m not going to keel over now.”

  Even though he might want to. That was the message underneath the guy’s words, and Bruce didn’t have a way to address that. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type. That was why he’d become a paramedic. He routinely rolled out lies like You’ll be fine. The doctors are the best. Your wife is fine and will see you at the hospital.

  He’d long since stopped looking to find out if what he’d said was true. He didn’t check up on patients after the hand-off, and he sure as hell wasn’t hanging around to learn that the wife hadn’t made it after all.

  Nero, however, took the words at face value. He grunted in approval and shoved a straw into the bone broth. “Drink.” Then, when Wulfric gingerly held it to his mouth, Nero continued, “I can’t believe I offered to make you a steak.”

  “I know,” Wulfric agreed. “I gave up meat decades ago.”

  “Bullshit,” Nero countered, and Bruce had no idea which was true.

  It didn’t matter. He focused on debriding the wounds, then applied the cream and gently laid gauze over the injuries. All through the process, Nero watched them both with heavy eyes, and the superimposed glamour stayed strong.

  Bruce had finished putting everything away when Wulfric asked him a question. “So what are you going to do?” he asked. “About finding the demon and saving the world.”

  Bruce turned back. He didn’t have a fucking clue. “You’re the one with fairy magic. You tell me.”

  He thought Wulfric would treat it as a joke—that was what he’d done with just about everything so far. Instead, the man narrowed his eyes. Beneath his lowered lids, his blue eyes seemed to blaze. And well beneath the glamour, a kind of shimmer happened. It was like his blood suddenly started to glow.

  While Bruce was still blinking to clear his vision, the sight disappeared.

  “What did the prince tell you?” Wulfric asked.

  “That I would be more.”

  “Be more? Or have more?”

  Bruce had to think back, but he thought he remembered the exact words. “Have more.”

  Wulfric grunted. “There you go.”

  Bruce almost said something caustic, but Nero beat him to it. “Use your words, Wulfric. Not all of us have two hundred years of experience to understand code from the 1800s.”

  “Be thankful for that,” Wulfric said. Then he took a deep breath. “The apple gave you power. Think of it like electricity. You have a store of it inside you now. Like a big battery.”

  Great. That wasn’t disturbing at all. “What do I do with it?”

  Wulfric rolled his eyes. “You create a light bulb.”

  “A light bulb?”

  “Yes. One that will save the world.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  Wulfric shrugged. “I can’t tell you that. You have to figure it out.”

  “A light bulb.”

  “Make it a big one, because that demon is growing stronger every day.”

  Great. “Any other helpful advice?” He invested his words with as much sarcasm as he could manage.

  “Yeah. Drink the smoothie. You’re running on empty, and I’m lactose intolerant.”

  Nero was right. The guy was an asshole. “Me too,” Bruce said. Then he grabbed the sports drink and chugged.

  Chapter 19

  WHEN SUPERHEROES TAKE OFF THEIR CAPES

  LADDIN THUMBED off his phone and let his hand, phone, and entire body drop onto the mattress. It had been an hour since Nero had taken Bruce to see Wulfric, and that was too long. Didn’t they see that the man was doing everything he could to help out? And under extraordinary circumstances too. He’d become a werewolf, been attacked by two sets of fairies, gotten handed the responsibility for saving the world, and now had to report to Wulfric as if he were a schoolboy being sent to the principal.

  It took all of Laddin’s self-control not to storm into Wulfric’s room and chew him and Nero out. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that it wouldn’t help Bruce one bit. The man had to find his own way with the higher-ups. But still, it pissed Laddin off.

  So he’d grabbed all the distraction techniques he could think of. He’d taken his shower, organized his suitcase from the mess it had been, stopped by the kitchen, and even phoned Captain M to give his report and express his opinion on Bruce loud and clear—that he was a good guy and would be a great asset to Wulf, Inc. if they would stop treating him like a traitor. She hadn’t been any more impressed by his assessment than Nero had been.

  So now all he could do was lie on the bed and stew—

  The door opened and Bruce tiptoed in.

  “Do you seriously think I’m asleep?” Laddin asked. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Bruce stepped into the light. He looked
a little wild around the eyes but otherwise okay. “I’m fine. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  Laddin sat up. “Because I was worried about you. What did Wulfric want?”

  “Medical attention. He’s got a fairy glamour that makes him look good even though he’s at death’s door.”

  “He’s dying?” Laddin asked, alarm shooting through him. Wulfric was the cornerstone of Wulf, Inc. Sure, he rarely interfered with the day-to-day activities, but he was the one who guided the company, who said what was and wasn’t important, and who…. “Is that why everyone adores him? Because of the fairy glamour?”

  “Probably. Because honestly, he’s kind of an ass.” Bruce dropped down on the edge of the bed. “He says I have to make a light bulb.”

  “Incandescent, fluorescent, halogen, or LED?”

  Bruce laughed and the tension in his shoulders eased with the sound. “Metaphorical. He says I’ve got fairy electricity inside me. I have to create a light bulb that uses it.”

  “Oh. Got any ideas on how to do that?”

  “Nope.”

  Laddin sat up and faced Bruce. “Well, I’ve been thinking—”

  “Of course you have—”

  “Shut up and listen. You’ve been going nonstop. One of us has to process, and I’m the most organized thinker here.”

  “You are?” Bruce challenged.

  Laddin rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m the most organized person everywhere.”

  Bruce tilted his head. “Really??”

  “Let’s say unfolded socks make me insane.”

  “Good to know.”

  “So, listen. You’ve eaten the apple and the cherry, and everybody says you’ll find the demon.”

  “By Thursday.”

  “Two days from now. Awesome.” Not. “You’ve got this fairy electricity inside you, and you’ve got to figure out how to create a light bulb.”

  “You’re repeating me.”

  “Because I’m wired. I had a triple espresso while I waited for you.”

  Bruce perked up. “They have an espresso machine here?”

  “Focus. Why don’t you build your light bulb at the lake where everyone says the demon is? We’ve been running around behind the scenes here, but we need to be on the front lines. You have to use your juice to—”

  “Shine a light on the demon. Got it.” He pushed to his feet. “So let’s get me some espresso, and then we can head out to Lake Wacka Wacka.”

  “That’s not its name.”

  “It’s what Nero calls it.”

  “Nero can’t remember names for shit. It took him three weeks to call me anything but Mr. Happy.”

  Bruce smiled. “You are chronically perky.”

  “God bless caffeine. And before you go in search of that espresso, I have to tell you something. We can’t go to the lake right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Remember those phantom kangaroos that smashed Nero’s face?”

  “Not really.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Captain M told me they’re back… with reinforcements. They’re being ridden by Haunchies.”

  “By what?”

  “Some Wisconsin thing. They’re little people whose goal is to cut everyone down to their size. So they’re smashing equipment and slicing up people’s legs.”

  Bruce frowned as he looked out the window. “They’ll need paramedics.”

  “Not you. You have to build your light bulb.”

  “I don’t know how to build a freaking light bulb.” He sighed, and Laddin could see the frustration that chewed away at his confidence. Bruce wanted to help. Hell, the man wanted to save the world, but he hadn’t the foggiest idea how.

  “One step at a time. How do you usually figure things out?”

  “YouTube video.”

  “This isn’t going to be on the internet.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” He blew out a breath. “I’m a hands-on kind of guy. I usually work things out by doing them.”

  “So do something. Anything.”

  Bruce stared at him, his hands lax by his side. As the seconds ticked by, his forehead furrowed, his breath shortened, and his hands slowly tightened into fists.

  Laddin waited until he couldn’t take it anymore. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to see the demon.”

  Laddin could already tell it wasn’t working. A moment later Bruce flopped backward on the bed with a groan. “We are so totally screwed.”

  “You’ve barely started,” Laddin countered. “You can’t give up now.”

  “I’ve shot my one wad. I’ve got no other ideas. And if we can’t go snooping around Lake Wacka Wacka right now, then I’ve only got my fallback position, so to speak.”

  There was a wryness in his tone that Laddin didn’t understand. He crawled up on the bed to lie next to Bruce. “What position is that?”

  Bruce rolled his head to look straight at Laddin. “Whenever I get stuck, whenever I can’t see my way through a problem….”

  “Yes? You do what?”

  “I find the nearest willing girl and do her. Any way I can. It clears my head and I figure things out.”

  “You can’t possibly have been that studly in school.”

  Bruce’s mouth curved up into a devastatingly handsome smile.

  “Okay, you probably were.”

  “A gentleman never tells.”

  Laddin snorted. “Something tells me you told everyone in the firehouse.”

  Bruce’s expression sobered. “No, I didn’t,” he said softly. “It was bad enough I was using the girls for my own ends. I didn’t need to humiliate them in the process.”

  So even in his sexcapade years, Bruce had been a gentleman. “My mistake.”

  Then, suddenly, the man’s cocky grin was back. “The girls were the ones who told everyone. I neither confirmed nor denied.”

  Laddin snorted to cover the hurt he felt. He didn’t like thinking about Bruce’s playboy ways, especially when it involved him banging every girl he came across. Fortunately, they had a world to save, so he suppressed his personal problems and focused on Bruce’s.

  “Not that I object to an orgasm to clear one’s head—hell, it was how I got through French class—but I’m fresh out of horny girls right now and—mmph!”

  The kiss was fast and delicious. It had just the right level of need mixed with playfulness. Bruce’s tongue pressed in, danced with Laddin’s, then pulled back.

  “Whatever gave you the idea I was talking about girls?”

  “The fact that you said ‘girl.’”

  “I was talking about my past. This is my right here, right now.”

  Laddin frowned, unable to dance away from the question. “So you’ve accepted it? That you’re into men?”

  Bruce shrugged. “I’m not a deep thinker. I let Josh do that.” He immediately rolled on top of Laddin and pressed his thick cock against Laddin’s. “I want you. And it’s a bit hard for me to think about demons when we’re in a bed together with the door shut.”

  “You do realize everyone will hear us anyway?”

  That gave Bruce a moment’s pause; then he shrugged. “We’ll tell them I was doing exactly what Bitter… you know who… told me to do.”

  Laddin winced. “He told you to have sex with me?”

  Bruce’s grin was wide. “He told me the sex would be fantastic. And since we can’t go to the lake now that slasher kangaroos are running around….”

  “You want to clear your mind and experiment with your powers.”

  Bruce’s expression took on a serious cast. “You okay with that?”

  Laddin’s body was definitely okay with that. He was already thick, and his hips ground upward against Bruce’s. But he didn’t say anything, and when he thought Bruce would simply take the invitation, the man did the exact opposite. He pulled back and looked into Laddin’s eyes.

  “You gotta tell me this is okay.”

  “Fuck buddies again?”

  “It worked last time.”
>
  It had. But…. “I know you better now.”

  Bruce’s eyes widened and he nearly leaped off the bed. In the split second before he turned his face away, Laddin saw his expression of hurt, as if he’d taken Laddin’s words completely the wrong way.

  “Wait!” Laddin grabbed Bruce but lost hold when the man jerked away.

  “It’s okay,” Bruce said, his words rushed. “It’s not the time. If I need to jerk off, I can do it myself in the bathroom or something.”

  “Bruce. Damn it, slow down!” The guy was heading out the door to leave, but Laddin didn’t let him. He grabbed hold of Bruce’s chin and jerked him back until they were face-to-face. “You are going to calm down and talk to me. Right now.”

  “Good God,” Bruce said with an exaggerated eye roll. “You don’t have to go all Oprah on me. If you don’t want to fuck, we don’t have to—”

  This time Laddin was the one cutting off his words with a kiss. Only his kiss was aggressive. He thrust his tongue straight into Bruce’s mouth and made him shut up. He felt the man’s shock in his sudden stillness. And then, when Laddin gripped the back of his head, Bruce pushed him up against a wall and kissed him back.

  Their tongues dueled—in his mouth, in Bruce’s mouth, back and forth as they ground together. But this wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was an expression of anger and frustration and need, not passion—and certainly not love, though God knew no one had said that word yet.

  When Bruce finally let up, they were forehead to forehead, and their breaths came out in harsh panting, Laddin finally managed to speak.

  “I know you better now,” Laddin said. “I like you more. I like you a lot. And the meaningless sex stuff isn’t meaningless to me anymore.”

  Bruce took a moment to process that. Then, when he spoke, there was a raspy tone to his voice. “It’s been one day. One fucking day. You don’t know me at all.”

  Really? “Seems like longer.”

  Bruce grunted in response, so Laddin elaborated.

  “It seems like you’ve saved my life twice, been given an impossible task, and spent the whole time trying to do right by your brother.”

  Bruce pushed back and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want from me, Laddin?”