by Cara Adams
* * * *
Alex had turned thirty three months ago, and ever since then the jokes had started, hinting he was “getting old” and asking him when he planned to find a woman and “settle down.” The concept of finding a woman and making a home was fine by him. He really liked the idea of someone special to snuggle up beside on the couch in the evening, and even better, to snuggle up beside in bed at night. Oh, no. He had absolutely no problem at all with the concept. It was putting the concept to action that was the sticking point.
First he had to find a wolf he wanted to live with, and then together they had to agree on a woman. The final, and most likely the most difficult step of the entire process, would then be for the woman to agree to mate with the two of them. A human woman mating with two male wolves. He’d even had some of the men nudge him, wink, and say the woman was guaranteed to find the sex with two men mind-blowingly good. That was very likely true. But was it good enough for her to put up with two men in her apartment for the next forty-however-many years?
It seemed to him that most women found one man dropping his smelly socks on the bedroom floor was hard enough to tolerate, never mind two men doing that. And Alex was smart enough to understand that even if he always put his socks in the dirty clothes hamper and remembered to squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube, he would likely forget ten other things all equally annoying to a human female.
All in all, the entire process appeared to him to be fraught with hazards and unlikely to succeed. Assuming he could even progress to the starting point of locating a man he could get along with happily.
Alex cast a glance over his customer service team. Yes, they were all present and correctly dressed in the official quasi-medieval costume, right down to leather sandals tied with leather strips, no buckles or Velcro.
The castle was going to open in less than five minutes and already the outer courtyard was filling with cars and tourist coaches. Two tour guides were marshalling their people into long lines at the turnstiles. At least they were following the castle guidelines and leaving one turnstile for people not with a tour group, instead of blocking them all up.
The chapel bell would ring at eight for the castle to open for the day, so according to the clock on his computer he still had a few minutes to think about last night. Tatiana was lovely. She was full of light and fun but took her work seriously nonetheless. He grinned at the thought of her long blue fingernails. Somehow they didn’t quite say “medieval” to him. Suddenly he wanted to know if she would remove the polish before visitors saw her, or not. It mattered to him, although he felt sure no tourist would really care.
And then there was Piotr. The candy store manager. A good man who also took his job seriously. The candy store was one of the most popular of the Village Traders. And Piotr was endlessly patient with his customers, wanting everyone to come away content. They’d had some fun times together, including their game of racing up and down the south tower, but could he live with the man? Or would they drive each other crazy?
The chapel bell began to ring. Eight o’clock. He pressed the button and the turnstiles lit up. His staff opened their windows and tourists began to flow into the castle proper. Alex grinned and wondered if any of them realized the chapel bell wouldn’t have rung at eight in the old days. The bells would ring at dawn for Prime, then at nine for Terce, at noon for Sext, and again just before dark for Vespers. Well, here it’d ring again at six to signify the end of the tourist’s day. Maybe by then he’d have some idea of what he wanted. His subconscious could work on the problem of his lack of a relationship while the rest of his brain made sure everything was flowing smoothly here among the tourists visiting Werewolf Castle.
A small boy tapped on his window. Alex looked down at the child and smiled. “How may I help you, young sir?”
“Are there really werewolves here? Will I really see a real live werewolf today?”
Alex had been asked this question before and “You’re looking at one now” was not the approved answer, however truthful it might be.
“Make sure you go into the graveyard beside the chapel and you’ll see where the biggest, baddest werewolf ever is buried,” he said, sending mental apologies to the long dead Alpha whose grave was there.
“Really?”
“Really.”
The child ran off with his family.
If only all questions could be answered so easily. Can I get along with Piotr well enough to spend my life with him? Is Tatiana the woman for me? For us both? Does she even like me? Will I like her in a week? A month? A year?
* * * *
This was Tatiana’s second summer working at Werewolf Castle, but until now she’d always been hidden away in the private part of the castle. Once the banquets began for the tourists she’d be out in plain sight. She already had her costume to wear. Actually she’d had it last year as well, although she’d almost never needed it. But the lure of playing her flute and dancing at the banquets was able to overcome her dislike for the long woolen dress and flat leather sandals and having to remove her nail polish for the rest of summer.
Still, the banquets were a brilliant idea and a logical extension of the activities the tourists were offered. There was already an eatery called “The Castle Kitchen” which served “authentic” medieval food. Well sort of authentic. The chef, Evan Huber, had worked really hard to make Middle Ages-style dishes that twenty-first century people would eat and enjoy. He used honey instead of sugar, baked heavier breads with seeds and fiber instead of pure white bread, and assembled dishes reasonably true to the former days. A huge favorite with the tourists, and wolves as well, was “Werewolf Stew.” The meat was beef, not wolf, but the chunks of potato, carrot, onion, turnip, and other seasonal vegetables were all true to the original recipe, and served with a rich, spicy gravy.
Damask had been instrumental in presenting the idea of inviting tourists to book in for a medieval banquet in the middle of the day. Midday was when the main meal had been eaten all those years ago, and it suited the tourists’ schedule as most tourists spent half a day at the castle. As well as an authentic meal, the banquet was to include medieval music and entertainment. Tatiana was adding a display of a medieval dance to the jugglers and fencing bout already proposed. She would also play her flute—well, a more medieval-looking wooden one—for at least one song during the meal as well.
Up until now Tatiana had spent her days tucked away in the costume department mending the outfits and making new ones. She’d enjoyed researching how to create pants and shirts without zippers and buttons, and agreed that most of the first costumes constructed couldn’t easily be improved on, unless modern fabrics were used. But to stay reasonably true to the period, the original costumer had done an excellent job.
Fortunately the clothes were not washed by hand in the river these days. They used nice twenty-first century laundry facilities and sewing machines for the seams as well. They still insisted on hand sewing for areas that were plainly visible, such as the apron pockets on the women’s costumes.
Today, however, instead of thinking about the elegant W she was embroidering on a long strip of fabric which would be the table runner for one of the two banquet tables, she was thinking about Piotr and Alexandre. They’d both been very helpful and excellent company the previous night as they’d designed and polished the medieval dance. They had a nice bit of weaving their bodies in and out of the joined hands, which she thought the tourists would appreciate.
The real problem was that sewing costumes for a tourist attraction in summer, and even dancing at the occasional banquet was not exactly a career. For a career, she needed to work for a large professional theatrical company, or at the very least, a clothing designer whose fashions were made here in Europe, not in some impoverished third world country. So finding a proper job wasn’t going to be easy, and it was almost impossible unless she headed to a much larger city, preferably one of the capital cities, Paris or Rome or even London.
Piotr
and Alex were a distraction. A mighty delicious distraction. But unless she was seriously thinking about marriage, a summer romance was all they would ever be, if they became that much. Neither of them had even kissed her yet or asked her on a date or anything really. Likely she was building their innate good manners and a little bit of friendly teasing into something much bigger.
All of which was rather a shame as they were very nice to look at and she’d enjoyed spending the previous evening with them. She absolutely would not have said no if they’d wanted to kiss her. But it’d be better if she put them out of her mind and turned her brain instead to what she would be doing after summer. Likely she should be sending off her resume to all sorts of appropriate companies.
Dammit. She liked it here in the castle and would have been happy to stay. She also loved the mountains and would miss them terribly if she had to leave. But yes. She was kind of addicted to eating and having a roof over her head come nighttime. And that meant a job. A genuine, forty-hour-a-week job. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t date those men if one of them asked her. Not that either of them had. Or had even hinted they were interested in her.
Chapter Two
Promptly at six the chapel bell rang, warning the last lingering tourists that Werewolf Castle was about to close for the evening. Damask was serving the last customer in the candy store and had already given Piotr the list of things he needed to restock for tomorrow. Sales were good this summer, possibly the best summer ever, which pleased him because it meant that the castle as a whole was doing well. The pack had to make enough money in summer to provide for them for the entire year and it seemed that this year would be successful once again.
All day he’d been thinking about what to say to Alex and how to say it. He didn’t think it was appropriate to decide to share Tatiana just yet. The first step would be to check that he and Alex were compatible. But having said that, he didn’t want to risk losing Tatiana either. It seemed rather “dog in the manger” to want to keep her for themselves when they didn’t know if they wanted her yet, but really, he couldn’t see any other way of behaving.
It’d be heartbreaking if she agreed and then they split up because the men were unsuited to a union. So, the first step was for him and Alex to go somewhere they could talk at a deep and meaningful level without being overhead. And he couldn’t think of where that might be. Anywhere in the castle was out. But the town near the castle, just seven miles way, was only a small one where the locals would recognize them from the castle, and every restaurant, square, and park, would be crowded with tourists right now.
The only real choice was to drive an hour or more to get away from the area. Shit. Every step was as complicated as an army’s battle plan. Besides, the entire program could come crashing down around his head if Alex wasn’t at all interested in him or Tatiana.
He pulled down the shutters and locked the store for the evening. Not that he thought anyone in the castle would steal the candy. It would be like stealing from themselves. It was more just a signal to any lingering guests that they really needed to leave now. He watched Damask walk back to the priests’ house beside the chapel. She, Grigori, and Jairus were in the middle of renovating a new apartment for themselves in the south tower. In the meantime she still spent some time with the other unmarried human women who were staying in the old priests’ accommodation.
Piotr watched patiently as the cleaning crews began work, using leaf blowers to sweep the stone floor of the courtyard. Another team checked all the nooks and crannies for missing tourists. Once before, a child had hidden in the jumping castle determined to wait until midnight to see a werewolf. A couple of wolves got out tall ladders and looked over the seven-foot-high hedges of the maze to make sure no tourist was still lost inside, then barred the entry.
The other wolves who worked in customer service had already passed him on their way back to the castle, but Piotr knew Alex wouldn’t leave his post and lock up the barbican until he was assured every tourist was accounted for. Someone else would right now be checking that all the cars still parked in the outer courtyard belonged to the wolves themselves.
In the relative silence of the falling night Piotr heard the dull thunk of the barbican gate closing. Residents of the castle could scan their way in and out of the barbican through a small side door using their ID tags at any hour of day or night. But the barbican gate closing would keep everyone else out.
Piotr straightened his shoulders and spread his feet to balance his weight equally, and then internally he grinned at himself. This wasn’t a battle. All he was doing was asking Alex a simple question. But his subconscious wouldn’t let him relax. This was important. Oh, no, not a battle, but certainly a vital step toward his future. A future where he and Alex were partners, mated together with Tatiana. It was just a bit hard to take it so seriously when nothing was decided. He didn’t know if either of them were people he wanted to spend the rest of his life with yet. All he knew was that the time seemed right to open the discussion.
Alex was coming toward him, and the opportunity for thinking was passed.
“Hey, Piotr. Are you waiting for someone? Seeing you here has reminded me that I thought after last night likely we should get together sometime to talk about our mutual interests.”
Piotr smiled. “That’s why I’m here. I thought the exact same thing. Perhaps we could go into town for a meal together tonight, unless you have other plans, that is.”
Alex gave him a serious look, then a sharp nod. “I’ve got no plans that can’t wait another day. I just need to change out of my costume first. Shall we meet in the parking lot in half an hour then? Your car or mine?”
“I have no idea what kind of car you drive. Mine’s a blue Volvo. I’ll be leaning on the rear fender in thirty minutes then.”
“See you soon.” Once again Alex nodded and left, walking briskly. Piotr watched him for a minute, then turned and ambled through the private door of the barbican and out into the outer courtyard. He’d changed into regular clothes in the back room of the candy store. He always kept a few changes of clothing there to save going back and forth to his room in the east wing.
The outer courtyard was all still part of the original castle. But instead of granaries and stables with animals, now there were coach parking areas, visitors’ parking, and staff parking spaces, with half a dozen ancient wooden buildings still leaning against the wall for the customers to look at while they waited for the gates to open in the early mornings.
All the staff parking spaces were against the outer castle wall, leaving the closer ones for the guests. Outside the wall was the moat, which was actually part of the river that had been diverted to encompass the castle hundreds of years earlier. Back then it had provided fresh water and fresh food, in the form of fish, as well as a nice wide barrier to anyone wanting to attack the castle. Now the bridge across it, while still only narrow and one lane, was a permanent fixture and the security for the castle relied more on the deliberate misleading of the tourist attraction than on anything physical.
Piotr wondered for perhaps the millionth time in his life why people were willing to spend their money to visit an old castle that advertised itself as the ancient home of a werewolf, whereas the thought of a genuine werewolf sent them into a killing frenzy. His people were not safe in the human world. People who knew werewolves existed were often determined to eradicate them, like a weed in the vegetable garden. Yet he and his people were no worse than humans in their likes, dislikes, habits, and abilities. In many ways they were completely indistinguishable from their human neighbors.
Some of the wolves liked to transform and play in wolf form often. Others didn’t bother to shape-shift for months on end and saw no need to be in their wolf persona on a regular basis. It was as individual as anything else about them. And, despite what people saw in the movies, biting someone would never change them into a wolf. It was a gene given to a child at birth. A person was born with the gene, or not, and no amount of biting or
full moons would change that.
He sighed. And now their people were dying out. For many years, far more boys than girls had been born into werewolf clans all around the world. Maybe one quarter to one third of births were females, which was totally unsustainable. Some packs were in denial, waiting for the numbers to miraculously reverse. Other packs now encouraged interspecies matings, and still others urged men to share a woman. His pack had chosen to take a two-pronged attack to the problem. Two male werewolves mated one human female. Not only had this made men more likely to find a bride, it also seemed to be the beginnings of a solution for the next generation, in that the children of these matings were fifty percent female.
That was another reason his pack wished to remain as anonymous as possible. The Werewolf Castle pack had never allied itself with the Werewolf Association and their Alpha had made no oath of allegiance to the Supreme Alpha of Europe, which was a damn good thing right now, as the Supreme had recently died and several Alphas were vying for the top position.
The Alpha of Vojvodina and the Alpha of Turkey were already canvassing for support quite openly. France and Germany were also potential contenders. As far as Piotr could see, the whole of werewolf Europe could end up in a battle for supremacy before the matter was settled. It was much better to maintain their own Alpha’s position and keep the hell out of the whole situation. Although he was well aware their Alpha made sure to receive plenty of fresh intelligence from the various countries, so he was aware of who was supporting whom. They just weren’t taking sides or pledging allegiance to anyone.
