by JC Holly
“Uh, I’d prefer it if you didn’t watch me shift.”
“Oh, right.” Conor turned his back, though Tommy kept watch. “Though both your forms are nice to look at.”
“They may be,” Ethan replied, his voice sounding strained. “But the forms in between aren’t so pretty.”
A moment later the room filled with the sound of cracking bones and joints. Conor winced at the sound. If it was half as painful as it sounded, the shift must have been agonising. It was over as quickly as it began, though. A wet nose pushed into his palm, and Conor turned to find Ethan the wolf sitting on his haunches, his head cocked to one side.
“Wow.” Conor shook his head. “I mean, I saw the change once already, kinda, but...wow.”
Part of him didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. Surely Ethan had just stepped into the next room and a wolf had padded in from somewhere. Even after Ethan’s answers the previous night, it all still seemed surreal.
“It’s you, right?”
The wolf nodded, and Conor felt stupid. Of course it’s him. Look at the eyes. Not to mention the scar. It was healing just as fast in this form, but the hair around the area had yet to grow back, leaving a bald patch of pale new skin.
Conor knelt in front of Ethan and, after a deep breath, reached out and ran his hand through the wolf’s fur. It was nothing like Tommy’s. Where the dog’s fur was fine and soft, this was coarse and almost rough to the touch. He touched his fingers to the healing patch.
“Does this hurt?”
Ethan shook his head, then stood and walked to the back door. Eager to stretch his legs.
* * * *
The back door swung open, and Ethan took a deep breath through his now-much-enhanced nose. The wind was blowing directly at him, so it was an easy job to pick scents from the nearby area. No wolves had been near in more than a day. He could certainly smell himself, though. The step and garden stank of his blood. Hopefully the drizzle would turn to rain, though, and keep the scents down.
He stepped out onto the garden and stretched his back. No aches, but he was stiff in a few places. Especially his neck. He shook his head from side to side. It would be fine. The lack of fur would be an issue for a few days, but after this jaunt, he wouldn’t feel the urge to shift for a while anyway. By then he’d be fighting fit again.
Conor cleared his throat, and Ethan swung back to look.
“So, are you heading out?” Conor asked, winding Tommy’s leash around his hand a few times. “We’ll wait five minutes, then follow, okay?”
Ethan nodded once, then ambled to the end of the small garden. It was surrounded by a steel wire fence, but part of it was pulled aside. He didn’t remember doing it, but he could smell himself all over the wire. He’d obviously wrenched it aside—he could hardly use the gate—with either a paw or his teeth, back when he first arrived. He’d have to remember to tell Conor about it, assuming he didn’t notice now.
Ethan felt confident he could jump over the fence now but he opted for the break in the fence instead. Better safe than sorry.
Once he was on the other side, he took another few sniffs at the air and then took off toward the tree line, keeping low, his eyes and ears open.
Some time to think. And he had a lot to think about. The wolf attack to begin with, followed by the sabotage of his truck, which he’d need to collect at some point, and Conor. He ducked under a low-hanging tree and was in the tree line. Might as well go in order.
The attack had been staged and planned. There was no doubt of either. Avani hadn’t fallen upon the scene by chance. The first wolf had known her route and made sure he was around at a time when she was on the hunt so he could stage a fight and provoke Ethan into investigating. That showed some knowledge of Avani. She wasn’t the kind of wolf to go a long way out of her way to investigate a foreign scent. She was a hell of a fighter, but she wasn’t stupid. Someone had to know her exact route. That meant either watching her, which was a tricky thing to do given a wolf’s sense of smell, or talking to someone who did.
Ethan stopped in the shade of a large tree and took another breath. Still nobody. Good.
The pack knew each other’s routes, as they often joined one another on runs. But none were stupid enough to tell a non-pack-member about where they ran. It was asking for trouble. But if one had wanted to bring trouble, it was a simple enough way to do it, and introduced the possibility of a chance encounter. Finding two wolves waiting for him the next day, though, removed that possibility again.
No, the thing was staged. Someone—and Ethan had his money on Craig—had told a couple of packless wolves when Avani would be running, and one had got Avani riled up enough to attack. Then, when Ethan showed the next, they were waiting. That was why it was Avani who had been attacked, too. If it had been someone else in the pack, someone lower down the hierarchy, Ethan may not have investigated personally.
The clang of a gate got Ethan’s attention. Conor and Tommy were headed over, the dog straining at its leash. They’d still be a minute or two, though. He shook his head to clear some of the rainwater from it, then retreated back further under the tree.
The truck was no great difficulty to work out. The wolves had likely planned to incapacitate, if not kill, Ethan. One of the two had probably done it while he was investigating the scene.
Ethan watched as Conor took the leash off Tommy, who made a beeline for the tree. No, that idea didn’t work. Ethan would have picked up their scents on or near the truck. He was distracted at the time, yes, and didn’t check the surrounding area, but he would have picked them up on the truck itself. And that only smelt of the people who had been near it lately. Him, Avani, and Craig. Ethan let out a snarl loud enough that Tommy slowed for a moment in his approach.
Craig had slashed the tyres. He had no real proof, but he was certain of it. In turn, that implicated him in the rest. Looks like Craig is after the top position. First he weakens Avani, the pack’s second, then he tries to take out the pack leader. If it had worked, once Ethan had been found dead or crippled, Craig would have challenged the next in line, Avani, for the leadership. It still would have been a tough fight, and no doubt he’d hoped she’d come away with more injuries from her fight, but he’d still have had a chance.
Tommy made it to the tree, but some of his excitement was gone. His tail was low and his ears flat, no doubt due to Ethan’s growl as he approached. He remedied it by grabbing a small branch in his teeth and tossing it at the feet of Tommy. The dog responded with a happy bark and ran off with the branch, heading toward Conor, who laughed as he approached.
“Not every day you see a dog playing fetch with a wolf.”
Ethan nodded as he padded over, then brushed himself against Conor’s leg.
The odd pair wandered through the trees, making one-sided conversation, pausing occasionally to either throw a branch, or try and wrestle it from Tommy in Ethan’s case. He listened to Conor talk about his work, his ex, his hobbies, and tried to pay attention. The issue with Craig would have to wait till tonight at the earliest, so he tried to put it out of his mind. After all, it was a nice day, he was out in the world, and he had a good-looking man at his side. Granted, he was in the wrong form to fully appreciate the last part, but it still felt good.
It felt right.
* * * *
Ethan was being quiet. Granted, he could hardly whistle while he walked in his wolf form, but Conor noticed a distinct lack of interest in pretty much everything. His guard was certainly up, and he nodded and shook his head when Conor asked him something, but he seemed absent. Maybe he’s thinking. He must have a ton on his mind, after all.
The only real moment of emotion from Ethan was when he paused by a tree and growled, having picked up a scent. He relaxed, though, and through a series of nods and shakes, Conor worked out that he’d smelt a human. Probably just a jogger.
He’d overheard most of Ethan’s call to his work friend—Avani?—so he knew the wound had come from a fight, and that he’d put down two wolves
in the process of defending himself. Did those wolves turn into humans after they died? And if they did, would Ethan have the police coming after him?
No. That couldn’t be right. If shifters had existed for this long without mainstream discovery, it stood to reason that they remained in whatever form they died in. They’d have been discovered long ago if not. He made a note to ask for more details when Ethan could do more than nod.
They walked for another twenty minutes or so before they started back toward the house. Despite the oddness of the situation, Conor felt more peace than he had in a long time. Ethan was three different people. In his human form he was strong, witty, friendly. In his wolf form he was calm, playful, even silly, judging by how he played with Tommy. Though in the bedroom was when Ethan was really an animal.
They had come together with nothing on their minds other than sex, but things had changed when Ethan had turned up on his doorstep, and again once he’d turned up wounded at the kitchen door. Conor was quickly becoming very attached to the man, and he hoped Ethan felt similarly.
* * * *
Ethan stayed in the kitchen to shift in private, while Conor went to check the mail. By the time he was back, Ethan was in his human form and stretching his aching muscles. The walk hadn’t had much of a drain on his energy, but the shift always did. He still didn’t quite feel himself, despite the time to rest and heal. On the bright side, though, his neck and shoulder felt good as new.
Conor had the phone in his hand, his attention on its LCD screen. “We had a call while we were out. I don’t know the number.”
We? As off guard as the word caught Ethan, he had to admit that it sounded pretty good coming from Conor’s mouth. He took the phone and glanced at the number.
“It’s Avani’s phone. She runs the bar when I’m not there.”
Conor nodded. “The woman from the first night we met. I remember her.”
“Yeah, she’s memorable all right.” Ethan hit the redial key. She picked up on the first ring. “It’s me. You called?”
“Yeah, I did. How are you holding up?”
He rolled his shoulder. “Almost back to normal. What’s up?”
“Craig.”
Ethan tried not to snarl. “What about the little prick?”
“He’s stepped up his game. Called a pack meeting.”
“What?” Ethan’s grip tightened on the phone, and the plastic creaked. “On what grounds?”
“He says that, since I’m wounded, and since you’re missing, we need to decide on a new direction for the pack. He says that if you don’t show, you forfeit your leadership.”
“What! He can’t do that. He has no right. I’m the one in fucking charge.”
“That’s what I told him, but he says that since you’ve gone to ground, you must be hiding something.”
Ethan dropped into a kitchen chair. “He thinks I’m wounded still, that’s what. Since I killed the two wolves who attacked, and left my truck, he thinks I’m either holing up to heal, which I am, or I’m headed off to die somewhere quiet.”
“Exactly. And my refusing to give him a number to contact you on has him thinking it’s bad, I guess.”
“When’s the meeting?” The bastard needs teaching a lesson.
“Today, at twelve, at the disused mill on the outskirts.”
“I’ll be there.”
That settled it. The mill was their chosen place for all pack fights, whether they were trials or disputes that needed settling. About a mile from anywhere populated, nobody ever went in there, so there was no need to clean up afterward. Craig wanted blood. And I’m going to give it to him.
* * * *
The meeting was six hours away, but it was also an hour’s drive away in lunchtime traffic. Also Ethan’s truck was still at the end of the dirt track with slashed tyres, as far as he knew. Conor offered to take him once Ethan had explained, but Ethan declined.
“While I trust most of my pack with my life, Craig is different, and I don’t know how many other members are on his side.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Ethan chewed his lip. He needed to put Craig in his place, and he needed to do it in a way that left no confusion. Ideally he needed proof of Craig’s involvement in the attack, so he could present it to the pack. He’d probably have to fight either way, but if he could prove that Craig had intentionally hired wolves to try and kill him, he’d come out of the fight with everyone on his side, too.
To that end, he made a quick phone call to Avani, then went to find Conor in the lounge.
“I need a ride.”
Conor smiled. “You changed your mind?”
“No. It’s too dangerous for you to come with me to the meet. Non-members aren’t allowed, for one thing, and for another, I don’t trust Craig not to do something stupid.”
He frowned. “Then why do you need a ride?”
“I need a lift to my apartment to grab clothes and spare tyres, then to my truck.”
Conor jumped to his feet. “I’ll get my car keys.”
The man headed upstairs, and Ethan dropped onto the couch. It’d be nice to be in clothes again, but it’d be even nicer to turn up at the meeting in the truck like nothing had ever happened to it. He was interested in seeing Craig’s reaction. If he’d expected the wolves to deal with the tyres, he’d be surprised at seeing the truck unscathed. If he’d done it himself, he’d have less of a reaction, and assume Ethan replaced the tyres. It was a minor thing, but anything to keep the guy unsure.
Conor reappeared with his keys and a large bathrobe. He tossed the robe to Ethan.
“Bought this a while back, but it was too big for me. You’ll need it for the drive so we aren’t pulled over.”
Ethan thanked him and pulled it on. “Hold on. If you had this all along, why didn’t you give it to me earlier?”
Conor grinned. “What, and lose the nudity? Not likely.”
Ethan laughed and followed him out the door.
The drive was quiet for the first five minutes before Conor broke the silence.
“So, um, afterward.”
“After what?” Ethan turned from the road to look at the man.
“After the apartment, the truck, the crap with this Craig guy. What then?”
Ah. That talk. “I honestly don’t know. I may be in no shape for anything adventurous for a while.”
Conor’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Is that all you’re interested in?”
“No, but—”
“It’s fine. I get it.”
Ethan closed his eyes. Well done, jackass. Killed the conversation in two sentences. “That’s not what I meant, Conor. It’s just that this may be messy, and it may lead to more messiness in the future. I don’t want to risk your life over something that has nothing to do with you.”
“Isn’t that my decision to make?”
“Frankly, no.” Ethan shrugged. “Look, I don’t want you getting hurt. I like you, and I think this could go somewhere, but you’ll have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“I do, Ethan. It’s just...” Conor sighed and took his eyes from the road for a second to glance at Ethan. “I like you, too. A lot. And I want to help.”
“You are helping. You’re stopping me from being arrested by walking to my apartment naked.”
Conor laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I meant a little more helpful than that.”
“When I’m at the truck and ready to go, I want you to go home and get Tommy.” He went to speak, but Ethan held up his hand. “After that, you’ll go somewhere safe. A friend’s house. I doubt Craig will try anything, or that he even knows about you, but I’ll be happier knowing you’re out of the picture.”
“And then what?”
“Then we talk.”
“Talk?”
Ethan nodded. “Talk.”
They drove the rest of the way to the apartment in silence. Conor parked two blocks away, near an alley that lead to the building, and Ethan
made the rest of the way on foot. He needn’t have worried, though. Nobody was watching the place, that he could tell. He jogged up the steps to his front door and retrieved his spare key from a hiding place, and let himself in.
The first thing he did once inside was phone Conor’s cell and tell him the coast was clear. That done, he quickly pulled on jeans and a high-collared shirt. The wound gave him no pain now, and the scar was mostly gone, but there was no point showing it off.
Conor’s car pulled into Ethan’s parking space below the bedroom window, and Ethan headed into his spare room to retrieve his winter tyres. Not exactly perfect for this time of year, but they were all still inflated, which was an improvement on what was currently on the truck. Conor was at the door a moment later, and Ethan passed him his spare jack and wheel wrench, just in case. Within five minutes the wheels were loaded in the back seat of Conor’s car, and they were away.
* * * *
Conor stole another glance at Ethan while he drove. The man seemed calm, despite what was going on. Conor had no doubt that the man was walking into a fight, and while he knew Ethan could take care of himself, there was still a hell of a risk.
“I have to ask,” Conor said, eyes back on the road.
“What?”
“What happens if Craig beats you?”
Ethan was silent for a few minutes before he spoke. “He’ll take charge of the pack.”
“And the others will just go along with it?”
“Most will, yes. Some won’t be happy about it, some will, but most will just accept it.” He shrugged. “It’s the way of the pack.”
Conor had a hard time understanding it. If he was in a group of people where the leader was replaced with an asshole, he’d leave. It wasn’t worth the hassle. But a pack is different. It’s not some country club, or knitting group.
“Some may leave,” Ethan continued. “They are welcome to, with no argument. It’s generally only the youngest that do, though. Those who don’t realise how hard it is to find a new pack.”
