Werewolf Journals 01 - Wild in the City

by Camille Anthony

  “Why did you let me live? Why didn’t you just kill me when you killed Roland?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted you to suffer. It was your fault my own brother turned against me and had me thrown in prison. You were my bitch-whore. I had just started to make good money off you when he came along, gazed into your puppy dog eyes and went all marshmallowy. Besides, I wanted to see your face when I did this--”

  Flicking a switch on the remote, he bent down and spoke into what had to be a built-in microphone. “Kill the little bastard!”

  The screen went black.

  “No! Nonononononono!” Melody screamed. Swinging her purse up, she fired through the sequined side, not taking the time to clear her little revolver from the clutch. The bullet hit Spenser high in the shoulder--a wound, not a killing shot.

  Spenser shouted. Moaning, he slumped against the desk, eyes feverish with hate. Glaring at Melody, he spat, “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!”

  Melody ignored him, dropped her purse, along with the concealed gun and fell to her knees. Arms wrapped tight about her waist, she rocked and moaned, lost in grief.

  I was the only one not taken by surprise when Fortrayn shouldered the office door open, having smelled his approach. Spenser and Melody both turned toward the entry where a hulking Fortrayn stood in the open portal, fur matted with blood and gore, clawed hands marked and dripping with crimson fluid. Through a stained muzzle, he grinned, sporting sharp, curved fangs, one of them trailing a bit of red, stringy meat. In his arms, nestled calm and quiet, was a blanket-wrapped infant.

  “Auntie…this…yours.” He held out his arms, offering the child to her. He turned his head and grinned at me. “Am gorged…can change now?” His gruff, low rumbling growl of a voice vibrated the cheap wooden floorboards.

  Face transformed with laughter, Melody jumped up and rushed over to him, snatching her child from his arms to clutch the babe to her breast. I had thought her lovely, beautiful before. Now she shone, her sadness transmuted to joy. “Oh, Fortrayn, thank you, thank you!”

  Hands shaking, she impatiently unfolded the blanket, frantically examining each limb and dropped a commiserating kiss on the one little fingerless stump. Brushing a tender finger over the little face turned up to hers, she murmured assurances of love. Tears dripped unashamed as she turned to me, crying, voice shaking, “Hunter, he is so filthy…and I can almost see his little ribs. He’s been so neglected and starved--”

  He’s a strong little tyke, like his mother. We will finish here, take our pup home and get him cleaned up. You can get food into him. Stay focused, beloved. We must deal with Spenser so he will never bother you and yours, again.

  Glancing up from her closely held bundle, she eyed Spenser, her gaze gone cold and deadly. “Gerald, you don’t know my new nephew, Fortrayn. He’s a werewolf.” She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Wow! I just had a thought. Since we are semi-related, I guess that makes him your nephew, too. I’m sure you two will want to get better acquainted.” She smiled. “Say hello, Fortrayn.”

  My cousin, always the show off, flung out his arms, threw back his head and roared.

  Gerald staggered backward, tripped and fell into his chair, a smothered gurgle rattling in his throat. He clutched his injured arm, the scent of blood and fear burst from his pores in an oily gush that coated his goose-bumped flesh in the most fragrant of sauces. My stomach growled.

  “Auntie, bring pup.”

  “Yes. We’re coming, Fortrayn.” A new flood of tears washed her cheeks. “Oh, dear, how remiss of me,” she said, scooping up the envelope that held her son’s fingertip and slipped it into the briefcase, spinning the locks before handing it to Fortrayn. “Gerald, I rudely forgot to introduce you to my new fiancé, Hunter. He’s Fortrayn’s cousin. He is a werewolf, too. I hope you don’t mind that I invited him over to dinner?”

  Spenser swung his head in my direction, eyes bulged. I smiled at him, showed all my fangs and let him read his death in my eyes. His bladder released and the sharp, acrid smell of piss rose in a miasmic cloud about him.

  Nostrils crinkling in distaste, Fortrayn sniffed, grimaced. “Uncle no…eat. Meat smells…bad…good parts outside.”

  With a chilling smirk, Melody patted Fortrayn’s arm with one hand, her other curled about her son. She turned back to look at me, her eyes fierce and implacable. “Hunter, as long as you are not really going to eat him, I guess it is okay to play with your food this once.”

  Leave, woman. Now.

  The expression in her eyes cooled as she met the frightened eyes of her soon to be late brother-in-law.

  Spenser half-stood, hurriedly sank back down at my warning snarl. “Melody, I…you can’t leave me to…” His eyes, pupils dilated with horror, cut over toward me. “Please, I let you live!”

  “You never let me live, Gerald. I’ve been dying since I met you. I died a little the night you raped me in the ass, telling me it was my fault. I died the day I put my husband in the grave. I’ve died every day for the last four months, missing my son. You lucky bastard, you only have to die once.”

  Face contorting in rage, the man sneered at her. “My other men will be here, soon. They’ll take care of you and your monster freaks. I’m gonna kill you with my bare hands, you goddamned bitch-whore. You’re gonna regret the day you met me.”

  “Oh, I regretted meeting you five seconds after you said, ‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ Goodbye, Gerald.”

  She eased the door closed behind her.

  Fortrayn had it half right. Spenser smelled of bad meat and rank urine, but his heart tasted just fine.

  I Take a Bite Out of Fatherhood. It Bites Back

  “How can you ask me to allow this? He’s been through so much. You will frighten him, Hunter, and he’ll be afraid of you forever.”

  I tried to be patient. No, he won’t. Haven’t I proved you can trust me? You’ll just have to trust me a little bit more. I have to do this, sweet bitch. He can never travel with us into pack lands, otherwise.

  “Why do you have to do it now? Can’t it wait?” She clutched the babe to her, eyes wary as they rested on me. “Just until he gets a little stronger.”

  I must do it tonight, Melody, while I still wear fur. The enzymes in my saliva are strongest during the full moon. The bite won’t hurt him much and as well as marking him as pack, there will be added immediate benefits.

  “What kind of benefits?”

  He is Breed, like you, for the modified wulf gene is dominant and most commonly passed through the mother. Therefore, also like you, once he partakes of my genetic material, he will become harder to hurt, more difficult to kill. He will heal quickly and most importantly, I will be able to communicate with him along our telepathic bond.

  “You promise it won’t hurt him? Blair has suffered so much.”

  We’ve just spent the night rescuing your babe. Do you think I would willingly hurt him?

  I sighed, realizing I was dealing with a woman suffering from frustrated motherhood. Like a she bear, she would face down any perceived threat to her young. I looked forward to her taking the identical stance with the pups I planned on giving her…hoped I had already given her.

  I couldn’t blame her. Little Blair had suffered greatly. Six months old when kidnapped, he had spent the last four months neglected and starved, hungry for affection as much as for food. He was dangerously underweight, resembling a five or six-month-old rather than the ten-month-old he really was. The first thing on my agenda--after biting him--was to get some nourishment in him.

  What I am offering is fatherhood. I will stand in the place of your child’s father, be his father, if you will allow me. After tonight, Blair will be my son in all ways, even to an equal share in my inheritance. I will love and protect him as I have vowed to love and protect you. Anyone seeking his harm will have to come through me and mine. I will lay down my life for him, if necessary, for both of you. All you have to do is trust me. Whatever your decision, you must choose quickly, my lo
vely bitch. I sense the waxing of the moon.

  Her lips quirked in a half smile. “I love hearing that word on your lips. Tonight illustrated the vast difference between how you say it and how Gerald always used it.”

  Kneeling, she laid the baby on the faux fur rug before the fireplace, shushing him as he fretted over losing the warmth of her arms. “Okay, but make it quick.”

  Thank you for your trust. I will never betray it.

  “I know you won’t. You are very much like Blair’s birth father in that respect.”

  I never thought I would feel honored to have her compare me to a dirt monkey. Shows you learn something every day.

  We need to make this look like a birthmark. The best place to situate it will be on his buttocks. Which cheek do you want me to mark?

  “Why do you insist on asking me questions I have no way of answering?” She didn’t look up, busily removing the baby’s clothing. When the tyke lay on the rug, bare-butt naked and propped in the air, she moved aside, allowing me close to her precious bundle--my bundle now, also--her agitated thoughts like a thousand buzzing bees in my head.

  I had no wish to drag the procedure out. Despite her verbal avowals of trust, I knew Melody remained disturbed. I lowered my muzzle to Blair’s left cheek and bit down, carefully removing a bit of his baby-soft, enormously tasty skin.

  No, before you ask, I informed Melody, our councils do not condone the eating of infants and yes, just like calf’s liver, infants have the tenderest, most succulent flesh. Just as human hunters draw the line at killing Bambi before he grows his racks, we draw the line at premature eating. Baby-killers we execute without fail.

  Enough said. We were talking about my son. The only person that would ever sink fangs in him again--and live--would be his mate, should he decide to take a wulf bitch to bride. I licked his bite mark. My saliva invaded and sealed the wound, promoted quick healing and imparted my DNA.

  Hey, Blair, hello, my little pup! Listen and know the voice of your daddy--

  Daddy, Blair cold.

  “Oh, my God, I heard him, Hunter. I heard my baby’s thoughts!” Tears dripped from her eyes as Melody gently turned our baby over, cradling his head on her forearm.

  I leaned over to inspect my new son. He had two eyes, the same golden brown as his mother’s. His arms and feet were spindly, all too scrawny for a ten-month-old infant. We--his mother and I--would take care of getting his weight up to par. Meanwhile, he needed food and sleep. It had been a long night for all of us.

  Daddy, Blair cold!

  I hear you, little pup. Mam will--

  A hot stream of piss shot from Blair’s tiny erect penis, splashing in my eyes before reflex cut in and I snapped them shut. Howling at the indignity, I batted at my face with my paws, shaking my head to get rid of the stinging liquid. That didn’t work very well and I rolled my face on the rug, trying to scrape the stuff off.

  Melody fell over, laughing so hard I thought she would injure herself. Still laughing, she recovered enough to dig a diaper out of the bag Fortrayn had taken from the baby’s keeper. He had disobeyed my orders to kill everyone and had allowed the girl to live. After he told us her story, I couldn’t fault his decision.

  Only thirteen, the girl had been a runaway, captured by Gerald and forced into prostitution, much as had happened to Melody all those years ago. Beaten and abused, believing he would kill her for it, she’d still found the courage not to carry out Gerald’s last, insane command.

  Melody giggled now, happy as a child herself, as if the tragic events of her past had never happened. I vowed to keep her that way.

  Securing the diaper about our son’s lean hips, she glanced up and winked. “I guess Blair felt he needed to do some marking of his own. Welcome to our family, Hunter.”

  Melody Gets Wet and I Cum Clean

  The moon released her hold on me while Melody, finished with feeding Blair, prepared him for bed. Facing away from me, she didn’t see me stand up, stretch and knuckle at my eyes that still stung from my son’s urine.

  “I’m going to shower before coming to bed. Wait up for me?”

  “Oh!” Melody turned, almost dropped the baby when she caught sight of me. I rushed to catch him, cuddled him against my chest as I steadied her on her feet.

  “My God, Hunter, you’re back.” Her eyes lit up. Licking her lips, she locked her gaze on my quiescent cock. Under her interested look, it didn’t stay quiescent for long. Hardening and lengthening, Buford rose in salute.

  I smiled. “Somebody’s glad to see you.”

  She looked at the babe but didn’t reach to take him out of my arms. Instead, she palmed the head of my cock and gave it a firm squeeze. “Let’s get Blair to bed so I can say a proper ‘hello’ to Buford.”

  Cock jumping in her grasp, I chuckled, eased her hand off me and headed for the study, where we had rigged a makeshift cradle. “I’ll settle for an improper greeting if I can entice you into sucking my dick like you did earlier,” I told her with a wink and a loving leer, handing over our sleepy pup.

  Her tongue came out, swiped her lips before retreating into her mouth. I heard her breathing kick into high gear as she bent over to place the boy in the blanket and towel stuffed drawer, tucking him in tightly. That wiggle she gave was unnecessary since she always had my undivided attention. Before she straightened up, Blair had drifted off to sleep.

  My hand slid down the curve of her round ass, fingers dug into one dimpled cheek. She pushed back against my hand and I stepped closer, trapping my cock between us. I bit my lip, forcing back a scream. I wanted her badly, immediately.

  I backed off her, grimacing as our skin separated, already feeling lonely without her flesh connected to mine. “Damn, I’ll have to jack off in the shower to take the edge off. I have a powerful hunger for you, lovely bitch, which will take more than one session to appease.”

  Glancing at me from under her lashes, she walked beside me to our bedroom. “Can I…do you mind if I shower with you?”

  I turned from the closet, one arm loaded with towels and a washcloth. Without a word, I grabbed another towel, an anticipatory grin stretching my lips. “You know what will happen if you climb into that shower with me, right?”

  My eyes flashed to where her breasts heaved, her agitated breathing causing her tits to quake. “I’ll have you wet and coming before the soap gets lathered good.”

  Her gaze skittered over my body then away…then back down to where Buford eagerly bobbed, salivating for another chance at being surrounded by her snug heat.

  “I’ve had this one fantasy forever. I’m making love in the shower, being taken hard, against a wet wall with warm water cascading over me.” She lifted her eyes to mine and I saw the fevered heat in them. “I’m with the man of my dreams.”

  She wanted that shower scene and I wanted to give it to her. Still, this close from the change, my lust was a powerful entity that needed handling with kid gloves. She wanted vanilla sex and I needed chocolate.

  “If I give you what you want, will you let me have your ass?”

  Her breathing escalated.

  “I smell your heat. You just dampened your panties, so don’t try to pretend you aren’t turned on by my suggestion.”

  Melody sat on the edge of the bed and began taking off her clothes, her words measured and spoken without heat. “Gerald forcibly sodomized me when he found me huddled in an alley, a fourteen-year-old runaway. Afterward, I felt so filthy and dirty that I believed him when he told me I was only fit for the streets. I prostituted for him for three years. Then I met Roland, who had returned to town, fresh out of seminary. He found out what Gerald had been doing and turned him in to the police. They arrested him; put him in jail for ten years.

  “Roland took me and a few others of Gerald’s victims and cared for us, reunited us with our families. He even helped those without family--like me--complete their high-school education. I hero-worshipped him, because he rescued me from hell. As soon as I turned eighteen, he asked me
to marry him and I did. We tried to have children for nine years. During that time, he never once licked my pussy or sucked my clit, something I had grown used to and liked. Lots of johns like going down on poontang. In contrast, our married sex was so tame it should have been rated ‘G’. And now you ask me to let you have my ass.”

  Her words killed my ardor. Buford drooped and I wanted to kill that bastard, again. I regretted not playing longer with his sorry ass. Setting the towels down, I pulled her into my arms, offering comfort, rocking her against me in silent communication.

  As we walked into the bathroom, I tried to soothe her, not caring to see her so agitated. “Thank you for telling me your story. I will not lie to you…I want your big, fine beautiful ass with a hunger that will never die, but I also love you. I will take what you can willingly give, and find satisfaction.”

  She paused and turned to me. Her soft hand covered my mouth, hushing my confused ramblings. Her next words gave me a pleasant shock.

  “I wasn’t finished, hon.”

  She stood before me, unashamedly naked, her full breasts tipped with stiff, candied nipples. I ached to suckle them into the heat of my mouth, to roll their hardness on the surface of my tongue. Softly rounded all over, she made my mouth water and my balls tingle. Her belly pooched out just a little, a perfect pillow for a wulf’s head, as I had proved when I lolled against her in full fur.

  “Everything you have done with me has been phenomenal, different beyond comparison. I have never wanted to give a man a blow-job, yet I went down on you and found I loved the taste of your cock.” She laughed a little. “You’ll never have to bribe me to suck your cock. You might have to beat me about the head to pry me off.”

  “Never!”