Creature Comforts

by Creature Comforts (lit)

  Several times now, he’d dreamed of the time Before. That’s how he and Tank divided the two segments of their lives. Before, best friends, Charles Weston Redding IV and Theodore Drake Knight had almost everything. Great careers, in the fields they loved, as befitted sons of affluent families. Beautiful wives of the correct social standing to further their family interests. And one small son to love, to share between them.

  Lissie’s machinations may have gained her the Knight name, but they were brothers by choice. Tank, his best buddy, watched out for Chase’s interests. Poor little Charles Weston Knight, the innocent little boy who’d never seen his fifth birthday, had been caught in the middle. After the werewolf attack that Changed and destroyed everything the two friends loved, they still watched each other’s back.

  * * * *

  Carter finished his study of the wolf pack’s tracks and stood. He righted the backpack that tried to slide off his shoulder. The backpack held everything he needed to survive on the cross-country trek the bitch and her three followers were leading him on.

  Oh yeah, she was leading him on a merry chase. Through Texas of all places. When the weather wasn’t hot and dry, it was muggy and rainy. He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket, checked for service, and was vaguely surprised to have it. Senses open, eyes scanning for a potential attack, he dialed.

  “The sky is green” The voice on the other side spoke with the deliberate precision of a cloak-and-dagger flick.

  Carter ground his teeth. “Dammit, Chowder. I’m not playing your stupid spy-games. I’m on foot. I need you to get my Hummer stashed.”

  “I repeat. The sky is green.”

  Fuming silently, Carter choked back another lecture on the difference between a Hunter’s duties on keeping humanity safe from the monsters and the James Bond movies that Chowder overdosed on.

  “The sky--“

  “God-dammit Chowder! The fucking sky is baby-shit yellow.”

  “Uh. Carter? You were just supposed to say that the sky is yellow.” Carter ground his teeth until his jaw felt in danger of locking.

  “Okay. Okay. You don’t have to growl. One of those things didn’t bite you or anything, huh?”

  “Just shut up and deal with my Hummer. And don’t get it lost either.”

  “Uh. Yeah. There it is. Got it on GPS. I’ll call it in to the nearest community and…. Hey! I see you on GPS too!”

  Carter shut the phone before he said something that would hurt Victoria’s favorite nephew’s feelings. Since Chowder was too weak to make an actual Hunter, Victoria insisted that Carter give his cousin the base operator position once old Ned retired.

  Personally, Carter didn’t think the chowder head had what it took to make base operator. The dimwit was going to get him killed one day. It wasn’t clairvoyance, just common sense.

  * * * *

  Chase stretched out under the canopy of leaves in the magical Green Wood, eyes closed as he absorbed the peace. The elemental magic of the place. His ears flicked at the sounds of childish laughter even as he braced for the onslaught of three small furry bodies and one not furry.

  The tumble began and he rolled, pinning a squirming, giggling dark furred pup. Uncle Chase! Pin the warden! Small pale arms circled his neck as Justin rode his back. The boy was as human in the world of magic as he was wolf in real world. His mental laugh sang through the pack bond while the furry pups tried worrying his ears and flank.

  Wolven born, those three wouldn’t Change for real until puberty. Here they were the pesky wolf pups they were at heart. More giggles as small sharp puppy teeth tugged at him.

  Enough. All of you.

  Chase stopped. The pups froze mid-wrestle.

  Diana Weis, in all her otherworld beauty stood with arms crossed over her breasts. Alpha female, powerful psychic. The woman had no idea of her effect on him. Or, she carefully kept the knowledge hidden to allow him his pride.

  Were the other pack members as enthralled as he was? Tank was. That, Chase knew for certain. Perpetual frustration and longing for the forbidden. Was this how the alpha females kept their control? How the other pack females kept a leash on their mates?

  He shook off the hanging pups, chastising himself for his uncharitable thoughts. A small smile of approval from her spiraled his carefully guarded emotions into orbit. He finally noticed Karen standing beside her mother, just as lovely, but without the constant tug on his soul. The girl he could like as a small packsister. Her psychic powers were like the moon, cool and calm. Diana, was the sun around which the pack orbited.

  Children. We came for a lesson, not to play. Diana’s brown eyes rested on him, perhaps seeing more than he wanted her to. The magic that bound him to her made him want to go to her. He would be happy to lie at her feet and feel her hands in his fur. Chase, the children were about to have a lesson in recognizing psychic magic. Would you like to join us?

  He shook his head, turning the movement into a full body shake. He stepped over the skinny blond haired boy, Justin, who looked at him with wide blue eyes filled with trust. The little one had come a long way from the abused half wolf-half wolven pup, Runt, Mark found while chasing down Bailey in Georgia. The scamp, through a strange twist of fate, turned out to be Mark’s biological half brother. Without Marcus, their sick sperm donor out of the way, Mark, Bailey, and their newly adopted pup could work getting an official happily ever after.

  Chase avoided the boy’s touch. His already raw emotions remembered the look from another child. Charlie, his son had that look during every one of Chase's stolen moments of visitation. Complete trust that ‘Daddy Charles’ wouldn’t let him fall, no matter how high the swing went. Then when the visit was over, the boy would go home again to his mommy and Daddy Theo. If he’d lived, Charlie might be having kids of his own about now. He and Tank would be granddads. What a joke. Nah. You and the kiddies have fun, ladies. I’m goin’ for a run. He slipped away through the trees. Away from Diana and her pull. Away from the pups’ reminder, until he could put the past back to rest.

  Chase ran. If he ran long enough or far enough, maybe he could escape the memories and what-ifs. Trees blurred by. He leapt over a log. And another. A black shadow of a wolf solidified, running in perfect tandem with him. The black wolf, larger than him, stayed with the pace Chase set. Light and dark, the wolves ran. They sped through the forest while Tank’s presence soothed the loneliness in his soul. His best friend, his brother, understood him best.

  Chase slowed to a lope, then a trot, finally throwing himself to the ground in a tired sprawl. Tank sat, then lowered himself in a much more dignified manner. Chase laid his head down on his paws. Bastard. You’re not even winded.

  I did not run far. You should be sleeping.

  Chase snorted. You can’t tell difference between sleep and an astral run…or whatever the hell this is.

  You thrash in your sleep. Tank’s assessing gaze bore into him. When you travel here, you lie quietly.

  I’m not tired.

  Yes. You are.

  Okay, smart-ass. How do you know I’m tired? Chase didn’t know why he was picking a fight. Yeah, he did. It didn’t seem right that Tank should be so calm when he was still unsettled. Chase wanted to go back to pretending that the past never happened. He couldn’t do that without his best friend’s presence.

  We are both exhausted from my work. In addition, you are tending to both mine and your duties as warden.

  You still in the lab?

  Yes. I am awaiting the results of my comparison of the biological samples from the cheetah kits to those of the other ill supernaturals.

  So why aren’t you sleeping?

  Tank lifted his black muzzle to look Chase in the eyes. The brown gaze was as steady as the earth beneath them. I am…unsettled.

  Chase climbed to his feet, closing the distance between them. He lay back down. The contact would make them both feel better. There was no embarrassment or anything hinky about it. Shapeshifters, as a rule, needed to share physical contact.<
br />
  If he asked Tank about it, his bud would go off on some tangent about the sharing of metaphysical energy and how packs shared their aura. Touching completed a magical circuit and recharged them somehow. It was all very weird. As a human, Chase would have been kind of freaked about it. As a wolven, it worked for him now.

  He stretched his nose out and licked the other wolf’s ear, offering a bit more comfort than he would around others. You need to find a woman and get laid, buddy. I know this hot redhead….

  Tank shook his head and flicked his ear, so Chase stopped with the washing. Sex is not the answer to our problems.

  No. But it sure helps to put them in perspective.

  Tank sniffed, the closest the wolven would come to a snort. Even as a wolf, he was dignified and uber-polite. Silence stretched between them.

  I need to ask a favor of you. An odd discomfort radiated from the black wolf. I must leave the pack for a short time. Supernaturals are dying. I have to find what is causing this illness before it reaches the pack.

  You’re leaving? Panic clutched at Chase’s gut. No way, buddy. We watch each other’s backs. Always.

  Charles.

  No. No, no, no. You’re not pulling the human brotherhood card on me now. Panic clawed at him as the seriousness of his packbrother’s mood soaked into him. They’d been together for over twenty years. Most human marriages didn’t last that long nowadays. We’re in this thing together. You are not leaving me.

  You managed fine alone in Georgia. Mark returned safe from his escapade, mate and pup in tow. Due to your skills, all three were relatively unscathed.

  Tank. Theo. Buddy. Pal. You need me at your back.

  The black wolf moved in a blur of motion. Chase jumped back, with a yelp of surprise. Dread and purpose settled into his gut. In all these years, they’d never been at odds. His hackles rose as they circled, each vying for a dominant position. Chase feinted right, diving to nip at a black paw. He danced back before Tank could snap his jaws on more than a mouthful of fur. Chase dodged, his attacks half-hearted. This was Tank. They were friends, partners, brothers.

  The black wolf barreled into Chase, twisting, Tank pinned Chase to the ground before the golden wolf could regain his feet. Sharp teeth, meant for tearing, pressed gently against Chase’s throat. He sagged, non-threatening. The weight of the action stabbed deep in his soul.

  I do not want to chance you contracting this virus. Painful emotion connected to the statement, friendship, a brother’s love. Resolve hardened Tank’s words into an order. You must keep the pack safe, Charles. Protect the Alphas. Keep Her safe.

  The black wolf faded into a translucent mist. I will come back, brother. Tank faded out of existence.

  Chapter Five

  Chase knew that by the time he hauled his real body out of bed and beat it to the safe house Tank used for an offsite lab, his friend would be long gone. The ache of loss settled deep inside. Instinct pulled him to his feet. Loneliness surged through him, pouring out into wolf-song. Howling, his pain to the Forest.

  More wolf-song joined his. Others, not his pack, telling him that he was not alone. When his song ended, one remained, clearer, closer than the rest. The echoing loneliness in the Call touched him. Chase lay back down. His own raw betrayal at Tank’s defection superseded the other wolf’s pain. Sleep would not come easy. Old, painful memories crouched, waiting for the moment he dropped off to haunt his dreams. Well, then he just wouldn’t give in to sleep. He was a big boy, dammit. He could function without Tank holding his hand.

  His ears flicked forward. Eyes narrowing, he stayed perfectly still as a black wolf form eased out of the trees. Cleo? The rich scent of musk and a female’s heat swirled around him perking both his interest and, yes-- dog that he was, his libido. Cleo’s pretty, white lined eyes watched him with a quiet steadiness.

  The wolf’s form did not frown, but he felt the emotion. Was that pity in her eyes? Irritation needled him. Her come-hither female scent was the result of a biological calendar event, not a sign of real interest. Not that he was in the mood to find out how interested she was anyway. He closed his eyes, setting his muzzle back on his front paws. He had no need for pity or compassion, or ovulating wolven females. Inwardly he frowned again, punctuating the feeling with a small growl. Tank didn’t want to chance him catching some virus? To hell with that. He could follow his friend easily enough and make sure Tank didn’t get in over his head. The big nerd might not realize how many people he pissed off with his bossy ways. One angry old lady at the bus stop toting her good silver plated butter knife in her handbag would be plenty to take out Tank. Tank would be too busy playing Boy Scout and trying to take her blood pressure and cholesterol readings. Then, bam, skewered right in the gizzard. An old human lady at that. Yeah. It could happen. Tank needed him…and so did the pack. He sighed.

  Warmth settled beside him and he found himself the recipient of his earlier treatment of Tank as her warm tongue washed over his cheek. Desire swam over his pain for a moment, but he ignored it.

  What would he do without Tank? He growled to himself, but Cleo continued, apparently sensing his internal argument. He was an adult. Damn the bastard. Tank was the one who’d wanted to get tied up with a pack in the first place. Now, his friend had bailed, leaving Chase to explain and protect. He huffed out a breath, dredging up a little indignation.

  Tag?

  Chase opened his eyes. Her pink tongue swiped over his nose, sweet and hesitant but definitely gaining his attention. Do you want to run? Play tag? She asked. Damn if she didn’t give him flirty girl eyes. He nipped at her muzzle, the scent of her heat swirled in his senses. Feeling lighter, his jaw dropped in a doggie grin. What do I get if I win? She nipped back at him and slipped out of reach. Dancing on her dainty paws, she looked like a vision. Or a momentary diversion while he accepted his loss.

  Cleo twitched her tail and dashed into the trees. Tag! You’re it!

  * * * *

  Chase woke with a start, his body hard and unfulfilled. Cleo had slipped away again. A man’s face swam into focus, disturbing once and for all, the fantasy of catching the little minx.

  “Ahhh!” Chase surged away and was pinned. Again. “Damn, boss. Don’t do that.”

  Adam Weis’s mouth twitched in a smirk as if the Alpha knew what he’d been doing. Chase’s heart thundered for a different reason. “No, really.” How long until Adam sensed Tank’s defection? “I was having a great dream. I coulda’ kissed you. And that would be just wrong. Freaky wrong.”

  “You need to sleep more instead of running around The Forest.” Irises like pale blue flame regarded him. “You sound like Mark and the kids trying to distract me from getting in trouble.” Adam rested a forearm on Chase’s chest. The boss had even less respect for personal space than most wolven born. White-blond hair brushed his chest as Adam got nose to nose with him. “Something’s wrong. I feel it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Adam frowned. He cocked his head, studying his warden for a long moment. “My pack is weakened. You’re in pain and I can’t get Tank to answer.” As pack Alpha, perfect mate to Diana, Adam had a special connection to every member. He knew things about them even before they did. Chase didn’t even want to know what the Alpha knew about him. “You could Call him.” Selfishly, he wanted Adam to do it. He wanted it so bad that he could taste the words on his tongue. Then, he wouldn’t have to cover and Tank would be back where he belonged. Avoiding the alpha’s eyes, Chase bit the end of the offending organ to remind himself that he had a little pride left.

  “Yes, I could force him to my side. But I figure you could make it easy and just tell me what you and he have been hiding from me.”

  “Hiding?” the words sort of squeaked out. Thank God, no one else was around to witness his mouse moment.

  His Alpha’s knowing smile brought more than a little guilt to the fore. Damn Tank for turning him into a pack wolf. Every instinct made Chase want to confess. He sighed and slumped in defeat. Out of great respec
t, not weakness.

  “Not hiding, so much as going out of your way to not worry us.” By us, Adam meant he and his mate Diana. Chase may still covet Diana’s attention, but that was the price for giving her his blood. The blood-oath also required for him to take the Alpha male’s blood. Chase may tell himself that his first loyalty was to Tank. As a warden, blood, magic, and love bound him deeply to both of his Alphas. In essence, they owned him. He’d given his soul willingly. That was the proper order of things. The Alphas were perfectly matched to lead their pack and he was their protector.

  With a heavy heart, he relaxed for a long and potentially explosive conversation. “Well boss, it’s like this…”

  Adam raised a pale blond eyebrow. The weight of his arm resting on Chase became subtly heavier. A warning?

  “The Weres are sick. Have been for a while. Tank’s gone to check it out.” There. Maybe the boss would accept that.

  “Maybe you should explain that.” Or not. Chase winced at the mild rebuke. He told the Alpha about the cases of influenza Tank had been investigating along with the usual setting and resetting of broken bones, pregnancy checkups, and general information gathering that the doc did on the supernaturals. The Alpha listened in silence. His eyebrows cool white slashes in a troubled countenance. “Supernaturals are not supposed to pick up diseases,” Adam said in a neutral voice as he gauged his warden’s response.

  Chase gave a single nod. “Yeah. I know. That’s why he’s been pushing the vitamins so hard.”

  “Then we’ll have to make sure the Weres keep their distance from our territory.” Adam didn’t look or feel very happy along the packbond about that determination. He tapped Chase’s shoulder with his knuckles. “I had guests coming from a Florida pack. I should cancel that.”

  Guests? They had guests coming? Chase kept his questions to himself. Barely. Anderson County had a lousy rep thanks to Adam’s psychotic predecessor. Twenty plus years later and outside packs still did their best to pretend they didn’t exist. They had few, okay no requests for wolven to transfer to their pack. The Wolven Council showed up once, then turned a blind eye instead of ordering them all killed.