by Kat Bostick
Eventually Jasper showed the seat mercy. The entire back half was shredded until there wasn’t much left but plastic and metal framing. One of his back legs slipped off the bench and he made an angry noise in his throat. His exasperation with something so ridiculous made her lips quirk in spite of herself.
“Can I loosen that leash now? You’ll breathe easier without it.” She stretched out both hands, feeling her confidence return. Jasper wasn’t going to hurt her, even if he was furious with her.
The braided slipknot lead was snug enough that she had to wiggle her fingers between his fur and the rope to get any slack. Jasper held so still that she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. She moved quicker then, worried that the leash might be choking him. As soon as the rope was loose he jerked his head back sharply. There was a distinctive high pitched cracking noise when his skull connected with the window.
Mari apologized profusely. “I won’t use it again.” She dropped the lead in a heap on the floor to show him that she was serious.
There was no way she could have predicted what happened next. Jasper went from sitting motionless to diving through the cracked window in less than two seconds. A spray of glass skittered across the asphalt as the window shattered like thin ice. All Mari could do was gape as the red wolf vanished under the shadow of the shrubs that lined the parking lot.
“Oh, crap.”
Mari had two options: Climb behind the steering wheel and drive away, leaving Jasper to his fate, or find a way to persuade the brute to get back in the car at the risk of ending up like her front passenger seat. Since she was already due to be awarded the world’s biggest idiot trophy, she decided to go for option two.
A rustle of foliage told her that he hadn’t gone much further than the shrub. That was a good sign. When cooing didn’t coax him out she tried opening a fresh can of dog food and waggling it in the air. She set it on the ground and crossed her arms. More rustling but no Jasper.
“Jasper, come back.” She sang. He peeked his head out of the shrub and glared at her. “Please come out. We really need to go.” She continued in her sing-song voice, looking over her shoulder repeatedly and tapping her anxiety out with her toes on the pavement.
“Jasper, come here.” Mari ordered crossly when he still didn’t respond. “You’re being dramatic.”
The wolf scampered out of the bushes and growled. She repeated her command twice. He stepped up to her with a huff. Despite better judgment she crouched so that they were eye level. Actually, she had to look up to meet his eyes when she was this low, reminding her once again just how freaking huge Jasper was. And she was putting herself completely at his mercy.
“It was rude to put a leash on you. I was in a hurry and I didn’t think you would get in the car willingly. I apologize.” Just to demonstrate how sorry she was, Mari bowed her head and tilted her face away from him. There was such a mixture of information out there about wolf dominance that she couldn’t say for certain what was true but in that moment, being submissive felt like the right thing to do.
“There are two and half more months of summer. Eventually some bored kid is going to stumble upon you in the woods and then they’ll hunt you again.”
Jasper’s eyes were slits as he studied her. “If you come home with me, in my car,” she gestured to the silver Corolla. “you’ll be safe. At least until the full moon, when we go to the forest. A real forest, not like this place.”
When Jasper was unresponsive she blew a raspberry that sent her overgrown bangs fluttering along her forehead. “This is hopeless.” A cry of pain escaped her throat when teeth grazed her fresh wound. He quickly released her hand when she cried out.
“You can’t bite people just because you’re angry. Look, you made me bleed!” She shoved her hand at his nose, smearing blood across it. He licked the blood from his snout and then lapped up droplets that were running down her fingertips. He managed to run his tongue over the open wound three times before she pulled her hand away and said “Ew, that is definitely not sanitary.”
Mari and Jasper stared each other down. Her ire from being bitten—again—was enough to make her meet his eyes in challenge. When she was sure he wasn’t going to bolt she marched over to the car and opened the back door with an expectant posture. Jasper grudgingly stalked after her and scrambled into the backseat. Mari pushed air through puckered lips and carefully shut the door. She waited for a few seconds to make sure he hadn’t jumped out the other side where the window was broken.
“Okay, let’s do this.” She muttered as she slid the key into the ignition.
Mari rode the car up as close to the back gate as she could get when she pulled into her driveway. It was dark in her corner of the cul-de-sac. The bulb in the Victorian lamp post that normally illuminated her front lawn burned out weeks ago, which served to hide them from curious eyes.
Mari swung her pack over one shoulder and ran to unlock the back gate. She turned to grab the car door for Jasper and almost stepped on his paw. He was standing directly behind her, hunched with his ears back and his eyes wide. He must have leapt through the busted window.
“C’mon Red, in we go.” She hurried through the gate and waved for the wolf to follow. He did, though he seemed to grow even more agitated when she locked the gate behind him. Jasper stayed outside when she flung open the back door. “This is my home. My, um, den?”
Almost a minute ticked by with him hovering in the doorway. Then with a nod that seemed very un-wolflike, he stepped in and let her close the door behind him. He resumed his hunched position as she made her way through the kitchen and plopped her backpack full of cans onto the table with a thump.
“Well, this is where I live. It’s more than enough space for me but I realize it’s not nearly enough for you. Don’t worry, it’s only temporary. There’s a bed for you in the bedroom. Food and water in the kitchen if you need it.” She let out a tired breath. “You need a bath but I won’t risk that tonight. I’m too tired and I’d like to keep at least half of my fingers. Which reminds me, I better get this cleaned up before it gets infected.”
Jasper stayed put when she disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom. Mari had to grit her teeth when the hot water made contact with her torn flesh. Upon cleaning the wound she was glad to see that there wasn’t bone showing after all. Actually, it appeared much better than when she first assessed it in the car. The puncture marks were still deep, probably bad enough that she should go to the emergency room and get stitches, maybe antibiotics too. Then she would have to leave Jasper alone in her house. Not happening.
While she continued rinsing the bite she used her free hand to clumsily tap out a search on her phone’s web browser. “How…much…blood…” she asked the question aloud as she typed. “Do…you…have…to…lose…to…die…from…blood…loss?”
A lot more than what could come from the wound on her hand, fortunately. She was gingerly rubbing antibiotic ointment around the bite when the click of nails on hardwood made her look up. Jasper stood in the doorway with his shoulders back and his chest out, his confidence returned in a regal show. And apparently he was no longer cross with her.
“Hey Red, you really did a number on me.” She waggled her two wounded fingers and immediately regretted it when hot pain plucked at her tendons. Jasper dipped his head in shame. He cautiously crept into the bathroom and leaned against her leg in apology.
Seeing him out in the woods was fitting. He was a big beast that belonged in a big forest. Seeing him in her bathroom, where his head was over a foot taller than the counter, made Mari realize just how poorly he fit in a house.
Jasper’s snout almost came to her sternum and he took up the entire fifty square foot bathroom with his muscular form. She didn’t need to compare his size to an ordinary wolf or dog to know he was unique. There was preternatural intelligence in his mossy eyes when they met hers in the mirror. The longer she stared at him, the drier her tongue became.
“What are you, Jasper?”
✽✽✽
Jasper
What are you? He could have asked her the same question.
Jasper knew what he was—or what he had been before he was inexplicably broken—but he couldn’t explain it to her. What was he?
Wolf. Man. Both. He repeated until it nearly drove him mad.
Regardless of what he was, Mari was content to have him here. Jasper couldn’t share that sentiment. He hated being confined. The overwhelmingly strong smell of honeysuckle, magic, lemon, bleach, and old food wasn’t particularly pleasing either. Some of the scents on their own weren’t offensive but mingled together in a stuffy, closed space, it made his head hurt.
In truth, Jasper didn’t want to be in Mari’s den but he knew that she was right; his woods weren’t a place for him anymore. This wasn’t a place for him either. She promised it was temporary. Witches seemed to keep promises better than wolves. Mari hadn’t broken one yet. Despite their misunderstanding, he trusted her. Even after he bit her, she didn’t abandon him. She was a fierce little witch.
She was also a tired little witch, he noted with amusement. Once she finished coating her hand with greasy goo, they left the room that smelled of lemon and bleach to settle on the couch. Mari leaned into the cushion for only a moment before she was deeply asleep.
Since she didn’t need him to watch over her in her own territory, Jasper went exploring. His first stop was the kitchen. Despite the bowl of bison left in his reach, he didn’t like the kitchen. The white floor was slippery as ice, making both his feet and the bowl slide around. He liked when his dinner sent him on a good chase but not once it was already dead.
When the last of his appetite was gone he investigated the countertops. There was a loaf of bread on one counter that was definitely the source of the stale food smell. He didn’t need a wolf nose to judge that. It was covered in mold and seemingly untouched. The case was the same for the bowl of apples and bananas on the adjacent counter.
Next was the hallway that led to the lemon and bleach room. He’d gotten more than enough of that room already. There were two other doors, both of which were open. Jasper stepped through the first one, nostrils flaring and head swiveling in case there was anything he hadn’t initially detected on the other side of the door.
The room was teeming with life. Wooden tables and metal shelves were loaded with potted plants of all sizes. He was smacked with innumerable scents as the door pushed all the way open. They were practically undetectable from the rest of the house under the harsh fumes of what he assumed were cleaning solutions.
Each plant had a different note to it but many were subtle and earthy. Mingled with the fragrance of greenery was the lush taste of Mari’s magic. This must be where she practiced. It was very innocuous magic for such a powerful witch.
The other room was bigger, though that didn’t really matter since the furniture took up most of the free space. There was a tall bed with a black and yellow quilt neatly tucked in each corner of the mattress. That was the sole part of the room that could be described as neat. Dirty socks, underwear, and t-shirts were strewn about the floor. Three plates caked with old food stacked precariously on a nightstand were another source of rotting food odor. Most of all, the room was flooded with Mari’s spoor.
Jasper took his time in her bedroom. Close to the full moon, when his senses were sharpest, he could detect variations in people’s scents that came with different emotions. Mari’s clothing reeked of despair. The weight of it was so intense that he felt the need to shake his coat. Wolves who were also men felt deeply and empathetically. That was part of his draw to the honeysuckle girl. He understood her despair. Isolation blanketed his soul with it.
He was finishing his bedroom exploration when he stopped to sniff a pile of clothes. A pair of bright blue underwear caught his nose. The scent was flat with age but he detected the faintest sweetness and musk. Suddenly he was reminded of being a young man, just old enough to begin noticing the opposite sex and how a girl could make his cheeks—and other parts of his body—heat. Not only was he a curious youngster, he was also newly changed and the sensations were overwhelming.
Jasper was close to feral and terribly confused most days but in moments of clarity—like the ones he experienced with great frequency lately—he could appreciate the heat waves that her feminine scent would have poured through him if he walked on two legs. For a brief moment man came to the forefront and found himself wondering if he’d ever loved a woman. Was she out there somewhere, waiting for his return in vain?
That had him pondering another question that was equally important; was Jasper still a young man? It was impossible to say how many years had passed since that life altering day when he became man who is also wolf. It was even harder to say how many moons had passed since he became wolf who was man no longer. Was it only moons or had it been years? Decades? Time was a twisting, jumbled thing in the mind of a wolf.
The need to be himself again, his whole self, was unbearable. Jasper wanted free from the bonds of the wolf so he could know himself once more.
Wolf pushed back, insisting that it didn’t matter what form he took or who he used to be. The part that was wolf had a much easier time letting go of the past. There was no use dwelling on it. He ignored the curiosity around his origin and returned instead to the living room where Mari remained on the couch, surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. It was no wonder she was always reading. It would take her a lifetime to finish all of these.
That was another part of his former home she would enjoy. The library. Her library. Not Mari’s but his pack sister’s. That was it. That was all Jasper could remember beyond the forest but it was something, right?
The little witch was humming in her sleep. The soft sound resonated with magic and soothed him the way the steady cadence of her voice always did.
Jasper leapt onto the couch and carefully stepped around her to snuffle her wounded hand. A dot of the greasy goo she rubbed over it stuck in the fur of his upper lip. It took an excessive amount of licking to get it off and once it was gone, his tongue was slimy and bitter.
If only she had given him her hand. He could have fixed it or at least made it heal faster. That was his own little touch of magic. Werewolf magic was a finicky thing but on occasion it was quite beneficial.
Werewolves might be known for their bite but their kiss should be equally renowned. Just as the bite could change man to wolf so could the kiss change a gory injury into a tiny scratch. It didn’t always have such dramatic results. Sometimes it might only ease the pain. Other times skin could mend at remarkable speed and all that would remain was scarred and marked tissue.
Aside from one door in the corner of the kitchen that was tightly closed, his survey of her den was completed. There were very faint hints of others besides Mari on the couch and the living room carpet but that was all. They clearly hadn’t been there recently or frequently. Satisfied with the security of his new surroundings, Jasper relaxed onto the empty cushion beside the witch.
Outside the evening was sticky with the moisture of an oncoming summer storm. Inside Mari’s home the temperature was artificially cold. The cool air was refreshing and pleasing to a wolf with a double coat worthy of harsh northern winters but apparently it was too cold for a woman with no fur. Her humming stuttered and halted as she tucked her legs to her chest and murmured uncomfortable noises. Jasper stuffed his snout in the space between Mari’s hip and the couch. When she didn’t wake he stretched his body across her legs to warm them.
He craved this type of closeness as much as her regular affection. This was pack intimacy. Comfort gained from the familiarity of scent and body heat. Safety found in the knowledge that as you watched over your pack mates, they watched over you.
Jasper already considered Mari his pack but tonight she made it clear she felt the same. She showed the determination to protect him that pack would.
The wolf knew that witches had the potential for evil, but Mari was absolutely not evil. He
also knew that wolves should hate witches, but Jasper could never hate his witch. He was growing fonder of her all the time. In fact, if he were a man he would do whatever he could to charm her into being his mate. He wanted her to be his.
Jasper had never pined for a mate before. She would be one more person that could be taken from him. To love someone as family was a risk, one the red wolf took very sparingly. Yet now that the divine had brought him and Mari together, he understood that some rewards were worth enormous risk.
Only wolf. He reminded himself sadly.
That was right. He was only a wolf, always a wolf. Man was broken and Jasper might never walk in that skin again. No matter what he wanted, man who was only wolf could never take a mate.
Chapter 9
Mari
Mari was reconsidering the wisdom of skipping the emergency room when she woke to a numb hand. Her fingers hadn’t felt broken but the adrenaline from her scuffle with Jasper muted the pain. She was exhausted once they finally made it to her house—as evidenced by her waking up not in her bed but in a cramped heap on the couch—and it hadn’t even occurred to her that his bite could have damaged tendons.
When she flexed her fingers, however, they appeared to work just fine. And they barely hurt, though that was likely due to the numbness. She stumbled to the bathroom to remove the bandage and examine the wound, gasping at what she saw.
What was a bruised and bloody mess complete with stray flaps of skin last night was little more than a series of scabby puncture wounds. It looked like an ordinary dog bite and not a bad one at that.
“Jas?” She called hoarsely as she skidded her feet across the hardwood floor on a journey to the coffee maker. In the blink of an eye the wolf appeared at her side. “What have you been up to?”
He prodded her palm with the top of his head. She smiled and scratched behind his ears. Then she grunted as her pinky toe hooked on the leg of a dining chair and bent further than it looked like it was supposed to. Great, a broken toe was just what she needed.
