by Mac Flynn
I slipped one of his arms over my shoulders and helped him to his unsteady feet. "Come on. My car's not far."
The distance was only fifty yards, but it felt like forever. The place was mostly empty except for my car that sat near one of the railings. The light above my vehicle flickered on and off, and cast the area in semi-darkness.
We reached the rear passenger door when two shadows slipped beneath the lower rung of the railing. They were gang-bangers with tattoos, bandannas, and no sense of hygiene. The pair leered at me with yellowed teeth rotted by drugs, and in their hands they each held a long metal pipe.
"Hey, lady, watcha doing here so late?" one of them asked me.
I took a step back. Dives let out another groan. His whole body shuddered. He didn't seem to be completely conscious.
"Please, I've got to get him to a hospital," I told the pair.
One of the thugs glanced down at Dives and his eyes widened. He looked to his friend and jerked his head to Dives's wrist. "Look at that watch."
His friend smirked. "Nice watch. We'll take that, and your purse."
I clasped my purse with my free hand. "Fine, but let me get out my car keys first."
The second thug snorted. "Like we're that fucking stupid, lady. Watcha got in there, a gun?"
The other one stalked around Dives and me. "Nah, she wouldn't have a gun. Probably mace."
His friend laughed. "
Dives let out a horrible, strangled gasp. His body convulsed. I lost my grip on him and he fell onto his stomach. He curled into a ball with his arms and knees beneath him. I knelt by his side and grasped his shoulders and whipped my head up to the thugs.
"Just back off! This guy could be dying!" I snapped at them.
"Then he won't need his watch," one of the thugs commented.
He stooped down and grasped the band of the watch. Dives didn't look up as his hand whipped out and grabbed the thug's arm. The thug's eyes widened and he tried to pull his arm away. Dives raised his head and looked at the man. I gasped and fell backwards so that I landed on my hands and rear.
Dives's face was covered in fur and his nose protruded outward like a snout. His yellow eyes glowed in the shadows and his lips curled back in a snarl.
"W-what the fuck?" his captive stuttered.
The other one stumbled back with his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "H-he's some kind of fucking monster!"
Dives stood. His tight clothes burst at the seams and thick mats of grayish-brown fur poked through the holes. His fingers lengthened and his nails curved into long, sharp claws. My eyes widened as his shoes close beside me burst open to reveal long furry feet that ended in more sharp nails.
He lifted the thug off the ground and shoved their faces together. The thug screamed and a noticeable wet spot appeared in his crotch.
"Don't kill me! Please don't kill me!" the thug pleaded.
Dives snarled, but his face contorted into pain. He stooped and panted for air. The thug grabbed Dives's hand and tried to pry himself loose. Dives's eyes flickered up and narrowed. He tossed the thug five yards and over the railing to the lower level, and then turned to the other thug. The man yelped and turned tail. He clambered over the railing and fell over the other side.
I stood on my shaky legs and stumbled backwards until my back against one of the columns. The thugs picked themselves up and ran away. A growl brought my attention back to the matter at hand, namely one terrifying boss.
I whipped my head to Dives. He stared back at me with those bright, illuminated eyes. The pain in his face remained, and he stumbled towards me with one hand outstretched. For a moment his eyes flickered back to their blue color.
His garbled, albeit mostly human, voice called out to me. "Please. Please help. . .help me," he choked out.
Another shot of pain stiffened his body. He cried out in a mangling of a growl and cry, and dropped chest-first onto the ground. His chest moved up and down from his panting and his eyes were half-lidded.
I took a cautious step towards him. He groaned and shuddered. I froze. His long, sharp claws dug into the concrete floor and left inch-deep scratch marks. My eyes were glued to the marks until I heard a familiar, and unwelcome, sound.
Police sirens, and they were coming this way.
3
My shoulders drooped and I pursed my lips. Great. Just when I didn't need them, they arrive. My eyes flickered between my car and the half-conscious thing close to my feet. I still had my purse slung over one shoulder. A few simple steps around the monstrosity and I would be home-free.
I took a couple of those steps, but paused when I came close to his head. One side of Dives's face lay against the concrete, and the other looked up at me. His half-lidded eye pleaded for my help, and his words echoed in my head. Help.
My sensible mind told me this was very wrong, and that I should leave. It also told me, in an offhand way, what would happen if any of the authorities found him in this condition. Think 'science experiment.'
The less-sensible part of my mind reminded me that even transformed as he was, he was still cute. And rich. And in desperate need of some help.
I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. "Damn it, Dakota. How do you get yourself into these things?"
I hurried the few feet to my car door and swung it open. My purse was tossed into the passenger seat, and I opened the rear driver's side passenger door. The sirens were getting louder as I hurried back to my fallen boss. I rolled him onto his back and slipped my arms under his. The new fur must have added fifty pounds as I dragged him foot-by-foot to the open door. I leaned his back against the car and scooted into the back of my vehicle. A few long, hard tugs and he was spread out in the back of my seat.
I slammed the doors, slid into the seat behind the wheel, and backed out of the parking spot. The garage had two exits. I went to the far one because the sirens were closer to the other one. It was now dark, and the streetlights flashed through the windows as I made my way through traffics and lights. The occasional groan and shadow in my rear view mirror were constant reminders of my hairy problem.
I lived in a small fifth-floor apartment at the far end of town. The twenty-minute drive ended without incident, but I had a new problem. I couldn't exactly park on the curb and heft the furry load in through the front door. I turned off the street an alley short of my building and bumped us to the wide alley that split the block in two. The area was wide enough for dumpsters, and a car with a suspicious passenger. There was also a back entrance people used only for illegitimate reasons.
I parked the car among the trashcans and boxes, and stepped out. A puddle awaited me.
"Damn it. . ." I muttered as I hopped out of the water. It was too late. My shoes were soaked.
I tiptoed around the other puddles and to the rear door. Dives's cheek was pressed against the glass and one of his yellow eyes glared at me. A scream escaped me before I slapped my hands over my mouth. The sound carried all the way down the alley. A few people peeked their heads out their windows, glared at me, and returned to their cramped dwellings.
I clutched my chest and took in the picture before me. Dives was now seated in the back. He panted and clutched at his chest. His short hair was changed to the gray mix and had progressed down his sideburns and back. His hard breathing let me see his extra-sharp teeth. Just for that reason did I hesitate to open the door.
"Mr. Dives?" I asked him.
He grimaced and closed his eyes. "I'm. . .I'm still me," he replied.
I raised an eyebrow. "So you won't bite me or tear me limb-from-limb if I open this door?"
He tilted forward and shook his head. I hesitantly opened the door. His weight shoved it open and he slipped out. I dove down and caught him before his clothes resembled my soggy shoes.
"Easy there. Come on," I grunted.
I hefted his arm over my shoulders and he managed to stand. That was an improvement over my dragging him because the floors in my apartment building weren't too clean and there wasn
't an elevator to take him up to my place. We stumbled up the broken-concrete stoop and through the tattered and half-broken back door. The entrance led down a short, narrow hall to the lobby, and from there up the stairs to the apartments. There was also a fire escape stairwell directly to our right. It was used mostly by druggies and hobos, but Lady Luck finally smiled on us. The place was deserted on that Friday night, and we made our way up the five flights to my floor.
The apartment building wasn't exactly high living. The wallpaper, what little remained, peeled off the walls in large strips, and sat on the worn wooden floor boards. All the doors to the apartments looked like they saw better days during the Biblical Flood, and the inhabitants weren't much better to look at. We creaked and groaned down the hall with Dives and the floor alternating with the groaning.
We reached my door, the spacious apartment at the end of the hall. I fumbled for my keys and inserted the right one into the lock.
"Who have you got there?"
I froze and winced. My mind worked on a terrible excuse as I looked over my shoulder at the middle-aged occupant of the room next to mine. She wore a bathrobe over her flowered dress and bunny slippers adorned her otherwise bare feet. Her graying hair was done up in a tight bun behind her head and her small, curious eyes fell on Dives.
"Um, nobody, Miss Ardelio."
She turned up her peeked nose and wagged a finger at me. "No lying, Miss Combes. I can see you have a young gentleman here, but what on earth is wrong with him? Have you called a doctor?"
I glanced between Dives. "It's really nothing. He-um, he's practicing for a play he's giving. The fur's his costume. See?" I leaned him against the wall and tugged on some hair that stuck out from his shirt. He winced, but didn't cry out.
Ardelio waltzed up to us. Her narrow eyes studied his face and posture. "He certainly looks ill."
I flung open my door and pulled Dives's arm over my shoulders. "That's just him staying in character. He's a-um, a method actor. But if you'll excuse us." I pulled him into my apartment and slammed the door in my neighbor's nosy face.
My apartment didn't look much better than the hall. The wallpaper was more often on the walls than the floor, but the small kitchen had warped cupboards and a sink with hard-water spots. The furniture in the living room, if you could call the small space in the right-hand corner, was of some ancient vintage, perhaps the Sixties, and was hidden beneath new cloth covers to hide the holes and springs. I hefted Dives over to the couch and plopped him down. He landed on his rear and leaned against the back with a heavy groan.
I sat down in the small chair opposite him and sank into the cushion. It helped that there weren't any springs left to keep me up. I studied my unexpected, and furry, visitor.
Dives's breathing was less erratic and his arms hung by his sides. His eyes were still yellow, and it was unnerving to be watched by them. He didn't blink much.
He shifted on the cushion and winced. "I think one of your springs is broken."
"It's probably missing," I replied. I leaned forward and set my elbows on my legs. I clasped my hands together and set my chin on them. "So do you always get hairy when you hit on girls, or is this a new thing?"
Dives managed a hoarse laugh and shook his head. "No. At least, not until after the first date which is after I've learned her name."
I raised an eyebrow. "So this has happened to you before?"
All humor fled from his face. He pursed his lips, but nodded. "Yes, but not this-well, it's never gotten out of my control before."
I looked him over. The gray-brownish fur. The increased muscle mass. The sort-of-snout. It all pointed to one unbelievable conclusion. "So you're a werewolf?"
He sighed and sank deeper into the couch. That, or it was slowly sinking beneath his heavy weight. "Yes."
I frowned. "After saving your life all I get is a 'yes?'"
A mischievous smile slipped onto his lips. "I could give you something more, but you already refused my kind offer."
I leaned back and rolled my eyes. "I don't think making out with a werewolf is on my bucket list."
Dives chuckled. "I suppose not, but I guess I could give you some more explanation. That is, if I can trust you with it, and if I can know the name of the beautiful woman who saved me."
I shrugged. "Would anybody believe an office girl when she tells them the owner of her billionaire-dollar company is a werewolf? As for my name, it's Dakota Combes."
He smiled. "Dakota Combes. Not a bad name."
"Now for the story," I insisted.
My boss tilted his head back and nodded. "I see your point about the authorities, but it's a long and strange story."
"It's Friday night, and I've got nothing to do."
4
Dives sighed. "It all started like a lot of regrets, with a girl."
I snorted. "Figures."
He shrugged. "I suppose I don't deserve pity, or even sympathy, but I'd be grateful if you waited until the end of my story to pass judgment."
I pursed my lips, but nodded. "All right, have it your way."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, like I said, this all started with a girl. It was about ten years ago. I was on a cruise to escape some of my more persistent admirers."
"The ones who kept sending you pics of wedding dresses?" I guessed.
Dives smiled. "The very ones. The cruise sailed around the Mediterranean and Aegean. At a port in Greece we picked up more passengers. One of them was a lovely little Gypsy in a troupe of musical performers. She was the dancer."
"So you got it on with her," I surmised.
He shrugged. "What else could I do with a beautiful woman who barely knew any English? Talk philosophy?"
I sighed and waved my hand. "Go on."
He pursed his lips and sank lower into the couch. "It turns out she didn't speak very good English, but her troupe leader knew more than enough to get me into some deep shit. It was he who got her to my state room where we had a little fun. Then she bit me." He pulled down the collar of his shirt. The fur was thinner near the jugular and I noticed a crescent mark made by sharp teeth.
I winced. "That must've hurt."
"Like hell, with an extra dose of curse to give it a good kick," he agreed as he released the collar. "Her troupe leader knew how rich I was and told me if I didn't pay him a king's ransom to teach me how to control myself I'd kill someone."
I raised an eyebrow. "And did you?"
He smirked and shook his head. "I didn't give him a dime. All I had to do was point out that if I did kill someone I'd reveal their existence to the whole world. They'd be hunted down like rabid dogs and dissected like lab rats. He got mad and then scared, and taught me enough so I could get by. At the next port I jumped ship and headed to an estate my family owned in Scotland. I worked a little longer on my self-control until I was sure I could get through any one-night stand and headed home." He shrugged. "And that's it."
I shook my head. "If that was it than I wouldn't be sitting here listening to your lame story. In all those ten years you never lost it and wore a real fur suit in public?"
Dives pursed his lips and studied me with those yellow eyes. "I do have trouble controlling myself around the full moon."
I jerked my head to the right towards a dirty-glassed window. "The full moon isn't due for another week."
He tilted his head to one side. His eyes never left me. "I know. It doesn't make any sense to me, either."
I furrowed my brow. "I'd say it was the mugging, but you dropped in the elevator."
A sly smile curled onto his lips. "Perhaps it was in the elevator that something happened."
Dives stood and walked up to me. He set his hands on each arm and leaned down so our faces nearly touched. I shrank as deep into the chair as the cushion would allow. His yellow eyes studied me with carnal interest. I found my body responding to his attentions in a most pleasant and annoying way. A warm wave of desire swept over me. I was nearly drowned in lust for this strange creature that st
ood over me. My heart quickened and my breathing deepened. I grasped the sides of the arms and trembled.
He leaned closer so his lips brushed against one of my trembling cheeks. His low, sultry voice slipped into my ear. I had to bite back the groan. "Perhaps it was someone in the elevator that happened."
A knock on the door startled both of us. Dives spun around and growled at the door. I jumped from the chair and swept past him to the entrance. "I'll get it!" I yelled in a squeaky voice. I grabbed the knob and flung open the door.
It was Miss Ardelio's turn to be surprised. She started back and the pie dish in her hands nearly dropped to the floor. "My goodness, but you frightened me!"
I gave her a shaky smile. "Sorry about that. I thought you were a salesman."
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Miss Combes, you know those types of men aren't allowed in the apartment building."
I glanced over my shoulder at another type of 'man.' Dives had his back turned towards us. "Oh, right, I forgot." I returned my attention to Ardelio. "But is there something I can do for you?"
She smiled and held out the pie. "I thought perhaps your young gentleman friend there would like this. Actors can have such strong appetites after being under those hot lights all day."
I swiped the pie from her hands and pressed the tip of my foot against the door to give it a good slam. "Thanks, I'm sure we will."
Ardelio took a step inside so that shutting the door would involve cutting her into two. Her dream-filled eyes never left Dives. "Perhaps the young gentleman-I never caught his name-might entertain me-us, that is-with some of his acting. What play was it?"
I swept through my old-story recollections even as I inched the door shut. "It was-um, the Hound of the Baskervilles. He plays the dog. But he's really tired and-"
"The Hound of the Baskervilles?" Ardelio wondered. She grasped the door with one hand to keep me from shutting it. "I had no idea that was a play. He must perform his howl for me."
