by Pixie Unger
Copyright © 2019 Pixie Unger
EMB Publishing, Saskatoon, SK, Canada
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-9991729-0-0
Thrown to the Wolves
The author respectfully acknowledges that this book was written in Treaty 6 territory, traditional lands of First Nations and Métis people.
Dedication
I would like to thank my beta readers and cheering section Jenifer Allen-Barron, Brianna, Paws, and Nicole Sophia Craine for helping me through the rough patches.
I want to thank Toast The Magnificent for turning my photograph into an amazing cover on short notice when my first cover didn’t turn out as planned.
And especially my editor, Sarina “Wolfy” Irwin for her constant support, pep talks, proofreading and being my sounding board at odd times of the day and night
Preface
Thank you for choosing my book. Near the end of 2016, I had someone near and dear to me tell me that my decades of notebooks filled with chicken scratch handwriting were a pointless waste of time and I should just stop. As my 2017 New Year's resolution, I decided to actually post my work. I started with fan fiction on AO3 because I didn't think anyone would be interested in original work. In 2018, I joined an original work challenge and Thrown to The Wolves is the first novel I have written and shared.
I was lucky to get a warm reception for the first, very rough draft. That encouraged me to start a Patreon account and take writing more seriously.
The Luper Universe has been rattling around in my head for more than a decade, looking for ways to sort of explain lycanthropy, I came up with my stem cell pseudo science theory. Things just took off from there. I'm happy to finally get to share these characters with the world.
Prologue
May 9th, 1919
Marv had last met his alpha in Atlanta a little over fifty years ago. Fighting until both of them were nearly dead, they each ran off to heal and Marv had just kept running. He spent the intervening time walking the world as a lone wolf. It suited him just fine. But here he was, 52 years later in New York, and suddenly he had picked up the bastard’s trail. Marv tracked the one who had infected him for five days. Learning his routine. It turned out, the bastard was running a brothel trafficking human women across state lines. His pack was a mess. Simon was the only one still there that Marv knew.
Marv considered his options. He wasn’t overly pleased that this guy was still effectively running slaves. Human women shouldn’t be his problem. If asked, he would lie and say that fifteen women locked in small rooms wasn’t a consideration. His beef was with his former alpha. It wasn’t exactly a territory challenge, it was just settling a score. Marv didn’t think he could win in a tooth and claw fight, they were too closely matched. But he had picked up a few things during the great war and he knew where to get a sniper rifle.
He left Simon in charge of the Manhattan pack. Marv wasn’t a city boy. But one of the lupers followed him out of town. Skinny little git wouldn’t stay gone.
April 30th, 1999
Sean woke up feeling full and well fucked. He also woke up to the mouth-watering smell of blood. How was this now his life? He yawned and stretched. When he opened his eyes, he turned to his wife, Lori. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Her neck ripped out. Her entrails spilling onto the floor. Her internal organs missing. Sean scrambled out of bed and plastered himself to the wall.
Then he saw himself in the mirror. His hands and mouth and dick were all covered in blood.
June 12th, 2004
Sarah didn’t really care that a meteorite had struck a house in New Zealand. At thirteen, she didn’t even care that there was only one week of school left. No. What was worrying Sarah was that she was going to spend the summer with her only living grandparent. Her dad’s dad was going to be taking care of her while her parents finalized the divorce and sold the house.
She had known things weren’t good between her parents for years now, but she hadn’t been expecting this.
Grampa Alton was nice enough, in a completely self absorbed able bodied white male kind of a way. He was a baby boomer. He hadn’t really bothered to come visit after Gramma Vivian died of breast cancer three years ago. Sarah kinda got the impression that he hadn’t contributed much to her dad’s upbringing.
And now, he was going to be in charge of a thirteen year old girl.
Sarah would rather have spent the summer with one of her friends from school. When she asked if that could be arranged, neither of her parents would look at her.
No. Once the house was sold, Dad would be getting a one bedroom apartment in the city to keep his job. Mom would be moving back east where the housing was more affordable. Sarah would be starting High School in a new town.
It was the dumbest thing Sarah had ever heard, but her parents said they were rushing the divorce so that she could register for school in the fall, instead of having to move half way through the year. That was bullshit! If they cared about her, they would find a way to stop fighting all the time.
This was so unfair.
Chapter 1
For the purposes of this archive, bold text will be used to indicate the Luper language.
536 AD - Initial Deployment
The Makers successfully repel a Frost Giant invasion of Earth with the creation of The Dogs of War. Humans born male are gifted, or perhaps cursed, so that they were able to change their shape at will into that of beasts suitable for defending from future invasions by non humans. Initial packs were unstable with infighting being a significant cause of morbidity and mortality. At that point, the infection was non-transmissible. The first deployment was self eradicated by 661AD.
August 22nd
Sarah was on her way to Plattsburg to start a Masters in Environmental studies. She was starting to think her GPS had a sense of humour. It had her on the I-86 when she was reasonably sure there was a more direct route. And now, it was raining. Of course it was! She was driving a 1960’s VW bug with slightly bald tires, why wouldn’t it be raining?
That made her laugh again. Her car was made of spare parts from every year from 1958 through 1964 except 1960. Nonetheless, that was the year on her registration. They went with the average.
She was pulling up behind a biker, so she slowed down and was careful with her following distance. The last thing she needed was to smoke someone if he laid the bike down in the rain.
She read his jacket. “Hel’s Hounds.” Hmmm… either surprisingly well-read, or surprisingly bad spelling. After a moment she sagged. Or white supremacist. God, she hated people sometimes.
Molly whimpered and nudged her elbow. Sarah reached over and scratched her ears. “I hear you girl. First gas station I see, we’ll get out and stretch our legs, OK?” Her dog gave a disgusted sigh. Sarah laughed.
Which is why she didn’t see the biker swerve to avoid the board laying in the road. When she hit it, a random nail shredded her tire. Sarah swore and pulled over. Then she sat there and thumped the steering wheel and cussed until she felt, if not better, but prepared to go out into the rain to change her tire.
She let Molly out to pee, resigning herself to riding with a wet dog until she found a town with a motel. Once her dog was back in the car, Sarah dug the spare out of the front of her car and jacked up the front passenger side. Her hands were cold and wet and her lug nuts were stuck. She took a deep breath and tried to avoid swearing. Or crying. She got back into the car to check her cell signal.
“Hey, Siri - where is the nearest garage?” She gritted her teeth that the suggestion was for the clothing company. Eventually, she found one in Bellmont, but it was af
ter hours and it looked like they specialized in bikes not cars.
Molly started to growl. Sarah tensed. Looking around she saw headlights parked on the other side of the road.
Molly was a pound dog. She was generally really sweet, but she wasn’t always good at meeting new people. If she was growling, something was up. The... truck seemed to have its hazard lights on, but it was dark and raining and Sarah couldn’t see much through windows that were now fogged up.
Oh shit, she thought. In the movies, this is where the serial killer turns up.
----
Sean walked up to the Jolly Rancher Green Bug and knocked on the fogged up window. He could hear the dog barking on the inside, so he tried to project a calm presence.
The woman inside the car rolled the window down about an inch and worried brown eyes peeked out of the gap at him.
“I’m Sean. I work at the garage in Bellmont. A biker saw you go off the road and called me to come make sure you were OK.”
“I’m fine, but my tire blew and my lug nuts are seized.” She was still worried about him, but at least the dog was calm.
“I’ll go see what I can do.” He hesitated for a moment. “Look, the heaters in these things are notoriously shit. Why don’t you and your dog go wait in the tow truck? It’s warm and the radio works. Keys are in the ignition if you want to fire it up to keep the heater running.”
“That’s awfully trusting of you, Sean.”
“Yeah, well, damsel in distress and all that. ‘Sides, the truck ain’t exactly inconspicuous if you steal it.”
The woman got out of the car. God she smelled good. He scratched the dogs head and watched them cross the road and get into his truck. He checked the lug nuts. He was pretty sure he could get them off. Hell, he could snap them off if he needed to, but not while pretending to still be human. And not without having to replace the bolts. He packed up her jack and her spare and ran over to the truck.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m gonna have to tow you back to the shop and do this inside. It looks like someone who didn’t know how to use the impact driver over torqued the nuts. We’re gonna have to replace the bolts.”
The woman groaned. “Yeah. That would have been me. New tool. I got a little excited.”
Sean stared at her in surprise for a moment before looking away. “Woman after my own heart,” he said.
She grinned. “I’m Sarah, this is Molly.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Sean shook the woman’s hand. The dog held up a paw, so he shook that too. “This will just be a moment.” He pulled the truck around and went back out into the rain to hook up the bug. The back seat and most of the trunk was full of boxes and suitcases, and a Rubbermaid tote was strapped to the minty chrome and wood roof top luggage rack. Interesting. He gave it a jiggle, it seemed secure.
After hooking everything up, he climbed back into the cab. “Mac is gonna be so disappointed he wasn’t working tonight. This is his favourite vintage of car, and it’s so shiny. The chrome looks amazing.”
“Thank you!” Sarah beamed, “It takes a bit of effort to keep it that w- I’m sorry, you already know that.”
Sean grinned. ”Yeah, but most folks don’t really appreciate that.”
Sean kept the conversation light on the drive in, but Sarah wasn’t very good about being guarded. He learned her last name, Williams, and that she was moving to Plattsburgh. She was planning on staying in residence and was feeling nervous because she didn’t know anyone there. At twenty-six she was starting to feel too old to be a student, but she had worked for a few years after getting her degree.
Sean laughed at that. “At twenty six, I was finishing college after doing two tours of duty with The Marines.”
“Huh. Well, Semper Fi.”
“Rah.” Sean replied automatically, then paused.
“I’m sorry, was that wrong?”
“No, ma’am. I just… don’t hear that often.”
“What did you go to college for, Sean? I mean what did you take?”
“I became a mechanic. I had done some work as a MOS - 3521, so when I got out it seemed like the obvious choice.”
Sarah nodded.
The truck pulled into a parking lot that was full of motorcycles. Including one that looked suspiciously like the one Sarah had been following. She swallowed nervously.
“You OK?”
“Yeah. I’m just suddenly really glad I was being polite while following that biker earlier.”
Sean laughed as he pulled into the garage. “Gus mentioned that. Now be careful, the running boards are going to be slippery.”
Sarah nodded, opened her door, and stepped out of the truck. She promptly slipped, cracking her skull on her way down.
“Aw, shit.” Sean muttered. He ran around to the other side of the truck to check on her. She was still breathing, but when leaned in and gave her a sniff, something was very wrong. He started to panic and sprinted towards the rest of his pack.
He ran into the office where everyone was sitting around watching football. “Um… I think that girl I picked up is dying.”
“Jesus, son, you eat another one?”
“No! Fuck, Marv! She slipped getting out of the truck and hit her head.”
Gus was suddenly paying really close attention. “Married?”
“No! She’s on her way to grad school in Plattsburg.”
“Huh.” Gus said, pointedly looking at Marv.
Mac sat up. “I can smell her dog. You bite her and we can blame the dog and get an Ulfurinn.”
Marv gave him a hard look. “You really think setting up her dog to be put down is the best way to start a relationship?”
Gus was still watching Marv. “Is that your only objection? If the girl is dying anyway?”
The two shared a long look. “What do you have in mind?”
Gus jumped up and ran to the kitchen. He came back with a mug and the meat tenderizer. He handed the mug to Marv. “Spit!” he commanded.
Marv raised an eyebrow.
“Or, more specifically, drool.”
Marv changed to combat form and drooled into the cup. It got a lot easier after he was close enough to the girl to smell her. Her dog was standing over her growling at them. Marv snarled. The dog started to shiver but didn’t back down. Sean grabbed her collar and stuffed her back into the truck.
When he had about half a cup of drool, Gus loaded up the meat tenderizer syringe and unbuttoned her pants. Marv grabbed his arm. Gus stopped. “I can’t go into her shoulder, boss. The joint is round, the needle will slide off. Her pelvis is a flat bone. Better chance of this working.”
Marv nodded and released his second’s arm.
Gus stabbed Sarah hard. There was a crunch. He pressed the plunger, then pulled out the syringe and fixed her pants. “OK. Call the ambulance.”
Marv's jaw wasn’t the right shape to use English, but he growled, “Hide her bag, first. We don’t know anything about her. Her name is Sarah. Sean picked her up on a tow run.” It only took them a few minutes to empty Sarah’s car and tuck everything into the unused apartment over the garage.
Mac tucked her phone in his pocket and headed out on his bike before the ambulance arrived.
Marv changed back to humie looking and insisted on riding in the ambulance with her to the hospital. That left Sean, Gus, and Craig to dig through her stuff to find out what they could learn about the woman.
It was Gus that found the dog’s registration and proof of vaccination in her purse. “The dog’s full name is ‘Miss Molly Dog Pollywog Princess Webbed Feet’.” He went silent at that as it sunk in. “This may have been a mistake.”
----
The thing with getting old, Craig reasoned, was how much the world has changed. His name for example. He was on his - what?- tenth name? Maybe more. Every couple of hundred years names fell out of date. There were other things. He had been a respectable five foot when he turned. In the next hundred or so years, all the shifting back and forth had stretched h
is bones to a freakishly tall six feet. Now that was normal and he was up to 6’6.
He supposed that made sense. How would you blend into the general public if your features were centuries out of date?
He had arrived in Point Rosee in… time was a difficult thing to keep track of. It had been before the Mass Suicide of the Ulfurinn. He had crossed the ocean on a long boat and had been left behind when the rest of the pack left. It had been a much more feudal arrangement back then.
Marv was the most relaxed pack leader Craig had ever met. The alpha who had infected Craig had run his pack and his Ulfurinn as his personal playthings. He kept them all functional, but they were definitely kept.
Craig didn’t see any appeal in that. He was perfectly all right living alone. He had learned the local language, several times, in fact, as different groups occupied the area. There was always something to hunt.
All that time alone had given him a lot of perspective. If the woman lying on the floor of the garage wasn’t dying, he would have stopped Gus.
He wasn’t sure it was worth ruining someone’s life just because the boys were lonely, and he was under no illusions that they wouldn’t be ruining the life of whomever they infected. Look at Sean and Lori. Become a dog of war and you could never really go home. Between the increased strength and speed, the heightened sense of smell and the fact that you had effectively stopped aging… it was better not to spend more than ten years in any one place. Five was better.
If this didn’t work, though, this woman was dead anyway. However it turned out, she was lost to her family now. If it worked, maybe she could still spend some time saying goodbye and fading out of their lives.
It seemed like a roll of the dice about who they were getting. That was foolish. You should be sure the person would fit into the pack before you infected them. On the other hand, her dog was willing to stand up to Marv in full combat form, where most dogs peed in fear and ran to hide at the sight of them. It wasn’t even a particular dangerous looking dog. Female, spayed, fifty-five pounds or so, mutt, not the sort you would expect to see as a guard dog.
