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Page 5

by Champagne Jackson


  And with that, all hell broke loose. I glanced back behind me to see Frost changing, his body growing and becoming all the more bestial: his chest broadening and growing hairy, tearing his shirt before completely shredding it, his ears growing and becoming long and pointed, almost like knives—his nose, long even for a human, grew into a long wolf’s snout, and his legs seemed to raise his body a foot or even two higher.

  He let out a howl as a shadowy figure, with blazing red coals for eyes, burst out of the darkness and collided with Frost.

  I couldn’t see what happened but Frost tossed away the enemy wolf’s corpse moments later, a sickening squelch resounding as he withdrew his blades from the beast’s gut.

  I heard something in front of me and I gasped to see what looked like a large dog charging me on all fours, its mouth hanging open and its impossibly long tong slobbering viciously, teeth bared.

  Its fangs seemed easily six inches long and in a brief moment, I imagined what they would feel like when they closed around my throat, tearing into me, air gushing into my larynx as I choked on my own pulsing blood…

  “Don’t just stand there!” Frost roared, his voice changed now: no long was it the gruffly melodious tone of a young man. Now, it was bestial. Now, it was the voice of a warrior. “Shoot, damn it!”

  I leveled the gun directly pointed at the wolf’s face and squeezed the trigger, just as I squeezed my eyes shut.

  The gun burst into life at point blank range and jerked up in my hand, almost flying out of my grasp. I gave a yelp in surprise, feeling Frost stagger behind me as he hurled yet another wolf off of his body, blood splattering and bursting into the air like dust being flung up into the musty, stale light of a long since locked room that is only just now being cleaned and rejuvenated…

  I opened my eyes to see the body of a naked young man lying before me, a gaping hole in his chest. He stared at me, baring his fangs—he had not yet completely transformed back—and I couldn’t help but let loose a sob as I watched him expire, his eyes growing dull.

  In his eyes, I saw the anger and rage give way to fear, to terror of the unknown, and then finally to resignation, only to be clouded over and to grow still as he breathed his last.

  But there was no time to reflect on his death.

  Another wolf. Another shot from my silver revolver. Another young man, dead in the dust, his chest shattered.

  I spread my legs slightly, taking up a strong stance, bracing myself against Frost’s broad shoulders, and fired once more, and then again, and then again, the gun cracking like a wild beast in my hand, screaming in time with the dying wolves around us.

  Suddenly, I felt the reassuring presence of Frost behind me disappear. I turned in amazement, crying out, when I saw him on the ground, covered in wolves—two, three, no, four of them!

  “Leave him alone!” I screamed, leveling my pistol at the nearest one. My shot smashed his shoulders and knocked him off Frost, which gave my werewolf an opening to drive his knife into the one poised with its claws over his throat.

  Heaving the dying beast off of him, Frost’s blades lanced out, striking the remaining two wolves simultaneously.

  He staggered to his feet and to my surprise, I realized we were in the midst of a momentary calm.

  “Nice shootin’, Tex…” he grunted. I scowled, throwing down my revolver and running to him.

  “You’re hurt,” I whispered, my fingers reaching for the deep gashes in his chest but then pausing—I was no doctor; I had no idea what to do here!

  “I’ll be fine,” he growled. “I’ll heal before you know it…”

  I could tell that he was in pain, however—I tenderly and gently laid my arms around his shoulders.

  “Well, I’ll take good care of you while you do,” I whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

  “Tia, damn it, watch out!” Frost cried out just as my lips were about to touch his. I turned just in time to see a motorcycle flying at me.

  Transformation

  I blacked out for a moment. When I came to, I felt something huge and heavy on my chest, with what seemed like a hundred sharp pains digging into my flesh. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to live.

  “Frost…” I whimpered. I looked around. For a moment, I thought the weight might be him but it was not—it was the motorcycle, hurled at me by the last of the werewolves who had attacked me.

  Peering over the edge of the bike, I was able to see Frost engaged in mortal combat with the wolf—the biggest I had ever seen. It howled and screamed in rage as they clashed, colliding over and over with one another, their powerful bodies delivering crushing blows that made my weak, trembling heart shake.

  “Frost…” I gasped as the huge wolf leapt atop him, knocking my wolfman to the ground.

  As he raised his huge, clawed fist over Frost, I noticed the glint of my revolver out of the corner of my eye. It was close—just close enough for me to reach, as long as I stretched—oh god, but it hurt…

  Somehow, I forced myself to grab the weapon. My hand shook as I raised it, just barely able to take aim and then, with a loud crack, the gun went off. The enemy wolf was flung into the darkness with a tortured, strangled yelp and it was over.

  “Tia!” Frost cried, leaping to his feet and running over to me. He heaved the motorcycle off of me as if it had been a child’s backpack.

  “Are they all dead?” I gasped, finding it hard to focus on Frost.

  “They’re dead. All of them. We killed them all. And you saved me…”

  I found myself smiling, in spite of everything that had happened.

  “Good… I don’t think we’re going to be seeing each other anymore.”

  “Don’t talk like that…” Frost hissed, but I could see from his face that he understood exactly how bad my injuries were. “I can save you but…”

  “But what?”

  “I’ll have to make you like me.”

  “A wolf?”

  “That’s right. A werewolf. It’s a hard life—you’ll never be accepted, no matter where you go. You won’t be able to settle down anywhere.”

  He cast a forlorn glance at the crushed and gutted bodies surrounding us.

  “Violence is a way of life and it becomes the only way…”

  “Do it. I’ll be like you.”

  “Tia…”

  “Do it!” I cried, cried out so hard that it hurt and I almost blacked out.

  “I love you…” he whispered as he began to transform. His kind, tear-filled eyes turned yellow and cold. His mouth lengthened and widened. I heard him let out an involuntary growl as he crouched over me.

  The last thing I remembered, before I blacked out, was the feeling of his long fangs piercing my neck. Just as I had imagined before…

  ~

  I awoke later—how much later, I couldn’t tell you. My head felt like it was swimming. I felt like puking for a second, until I sat up in bed and then realized that I felt… Powerful.

  I looked around. A motel room. Typical. As I got out of bed, I realized I was naked. My body was spotless, though—no bruises, no cuts, no scars.

  The bathroom door opened and Frost appeared, raising an eyebrow and a smile to see me awake.

  “Did the Queen of France sleep well?” he asked with his wolfish grin.

  “I… I think so…” I said, stretching. I definitely felt different, but not in a bad way.

  “You… You turned me into a…” I continued, looking at him questioningly.

  “A werewolf. That’s right. Just like me,” he replied, his eyes alternating somehow between laughing and seriousness before finally settling on serious.

  “And that’s why I’m all healed up?”

  “That’s right.”

  Not a bad perk.

  Suddenly, I felt like I really… noticed Frost. Noticed his body: his tight wife-beater stretched over his powerful chest, the way his crotch looked in his tight, worn-out black jeans… The stubble dotting his jaw line and the pale red of his lips.

  God,
but I wanted him right then and there. More than I had ever wanted anything.

  I approached him, feeling like I was a hunter on the prowl.

  “You’ll probably notice some changes in your mood, your energy levels… That’s normal. You’ll learn to manage them and after a few weeks, it’ll seem like you’ve always been this way.”

  “Shut up,” I murmured before throwing my arms around him and forcing my tongue into his mouth. He tasted like toothpaste. Minty and fresh.

  We kissed hard, our mouths dueling for supremacy as I slid away from him, down his body. I hooked my fingers over the neck of his wife-beater and tore it in two, leaving his powerful chest exposed

  “Your sex drive is also going to be out of control for the first few weeks…” Frost murmured. I could all but feel him smirk. The bastard.

  “Just what you wanted, huh?” I asked with a teasing smile as I worked my way down his powerful belly to his crotch. I began to undo his jeans, feeling the growing cock inside…

  “I can’t claim it wasn’t an ulterior motive…” he murmured, running his hand through my hair as I found his hardness. I slid it into my mouth without further ado, engulfing his shaft in my warm, wet mouth. God, but it was so good—somehow, it felt even better to be sucking him off, now that I was like him…

  I bobbed my head faster and faster, going harder and harder, taking him deep while sometimes pulling all the way off his cock to lick and slurp at his shaft. He was delicious and I wanted to make sure I savored his flavor…

  “That’s it, my little wolf girl,” he grunted in pleasure, throwing his head back and moaning oh-so-sexily.

  But it wasn’t enough for me. I needed to feel him inside of me.

  I pushed him down onto the bed suddenly and climbed atop him, positioning his hard rod right at the sopping wet entrance to my cunt.

  “I’m going to fuck you to within an inch of your life…” I hissed as I slid down on him. I threw back my head in delight… It was the best cock I had ever felt inside of me. It was maybe the best thing I had ever felt in my life.

  I shuddered in joy and delight as his cock throbbed inside of me, rubbing against my pussy walls as his flesh impaled me—or, rather, as I impaled myself on his flesh, for I was definitely in control here…

  “Oh, god, it’s so good!” I squealed, shuddering and moaning as I rode him, my body shaking with pleasure. “I never knew sex was so good for werewolves…”

  “A well-kept secret,” Frost laughed as he thrust up into me, his cock digging deeper and deeper into my wet depths, the werewolf knot burying itself inside of me and expanding in lust as I shuddered and shrieked, gripping my tits as I rode him.

  My nipples and breasts were even more sensitive now that I was a werewolf… God, everything felt so fucking good. How did people get by NOT being werewolves?

  Every stroke of his cock drove me crazy. Every moment was like orgasming. Finally, I felt my real climax coming.

  I impaled myself once more on his huge cock, grinding my clit into his hard belly, feeling the waves of delicious warmth and pleasure radiate out of my pussy and through every cell of my body.

  My shuddering, spsming pussy must have finished him off too because, moments later, I felt his hot wolf seed filling me up, stream after stream entering my tight, hungry wolf pussy.

  As I snuggled up to Frost, close and tight in his arms, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fact that I couldn’t wait to do this all over again… and to maybe even have a little of were wolf pups with Frost.

  But that was for the future. All there was for me now was Frost’s passion, his intensity, and the sheer pleasure of our coupling… As much as I tried to snuggle him, I couldn’t help but find my finger teasing his cock into hardness once more, getting him ready for another go at me…

  Drowning

  Table of Contents

  First Encounter

  Discovery

  Investigation

  Passion

  Departure

  The Date

  Torn

  Betrayal

  Reunited

  First Encounter

  “That’ll be $14.59.” My voice was bored, but who could blame me? It was a boring Tuesday afternoon. I should have known to be suspicious of Tuesdays, though. It’s always the most boring day of the week, after all, isn’t it?

  You see, Tuesday isn’t the beginning of the week, like Monday. Well, I guess it sort of is, but that’s beside the point. It’s not the very beginning of the week and it’s still so far away from Friday that the weekend is like a barely visible dream just over the horizon. On a Tuesday afternoon, it feels like the week will last forever and you might as well get used to it.

  And of course, that was my problem. I had gotten used to it. I had gotten used to my boring life. To working at this place. But it was all about to change. If only I had known…

  The stranger paused, perplexed. His treasures, a motley assortment of cigarettes, snack food, and, most strange of all, a teddy bear, had apparently cost him more than he imagined they would. He tucked the ten-dollar bill back into his wallet and hesitated for a moment before pulling out a credit card.

  “You take Visa?”

  “Of course!” I chirped chirpily. They told us to be chirpy, especially with the men, and especially with the men like this one, who looked tired, who looked beaten down, like they’d been on the road so long that they were the road, like the road was riding them.

  Men like him were born on the road and they responded, I had found, to chirp and so I chirped. I was good at chirping. I had always been good at chirping.

  My name is Heaven Jefferson. I’m nineteen years old. I’m just another black girl with no prospects in California. I work at a no-name convenience store about fifty feet from an exit ramp off of I-7. It’s boring, boring work but it’s indoors and it’s a job, so I guess I can’t complain.

  Of the forty girls in my high school graduating class, I’d say about half are pregnant, a quarter have jobs like me, and most of the rest are messing around with drugs or gangs or both. One or two might have gone to college, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had dropped out by now, owing to one of the other situations I just listed.

  So, when you put it all in perspective, it starts to seem like I was doing pretty good for myself. But it sure as hell didn’t feel this way.

  I glanced at the stranger’s Visa card as he handed it to me. Michael O’Connor was his name. I ran his card and printed off a receipt for him.

  “There you go, Michael,” I said, chirping still.

  “Crow,” Michael said. “I go by Crow.” He signed his receipt with a great big, illegible signature that, as far as I could tell, did indeed begin with a giant “B.”

  “Crow? Why’s that?”

  His eyes flashed. It was only then that I realized how… How handsome he was. In a torn up, beaten down, miserable kind of way. Like an old leather jacket (which, coincidentally, he was wearing). He couldn’t have been more than thirty, but there were years of wisdom in those dark brown eyes. His long hair was swept back into a ponytail with surprising care, with only a few strands drifting loose. What’s more, he was tall… And I love tall men. He looked like he had a model’s physique underneath the leather jacket and stained undershirt but I knew that men like him don’t get such bodies from years in the weight room. They don’t knock back protein shakes while on their bikes. They’re men who’ve had hard lives and so they get strong in response, like a diamond being forged over the centuries, and the result is the six-pack and firm biceps barely contained by his clothing.

  Weird as it seems, he reminded me somehow of an animal. I couldn’t tell you exactly what kind—maybe a wolf of some sort, or a bear? No, really, what it was… Was a jackal. He reminded me a desperate, lonely desert jackal, angry and powerful, ruthless, the kind you see on National Geographic documentaries with blood and antelope meat dripping in rivulets out of his fang filled mouth. And looking him in the eye, I felt like I could ver
y easily be the next antelope to fall victim to his hungry gaze… not to mention his claws.

  “Watch.”

  Discovery

  He took the teddy-bear and laid it face-down on the counter in front of my cash register. He revealed a switch blade, previously hidden in the pocket of his jacket. As it clacked open, I gasped and looked around. The store was empty. I started to reach for the panic button but the touched the blade to the flesh of my forearm. He lifted a finger to his lips, smiling as he shushed me.

  Now, he applied the blade to the back of the teddy bear. He slashed it open and it gushed stuffing. I felt bad for the bear, even though it was dumb. I felt stupid for mourning the death of this plush bear and I felt myself blushing even as tears came to my dark brown eyes, as much from fear as anything else.

 

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