She was as far as a Werewolf could stray from human-based relationships. One hundred years and finally, she found someone who she could be with and feel fulfilled, feel like a partner on a great journey.
TH challenged her. Every single day, he challenged her in some way. Her IQ was off the charts, but so was Terry Henry’s. His memory was crisper than hers. He never forgot anything he read.
And physically, they were a perfect fit.
Yes, she’d wear the wedding dress, make Margie Rose proud. “Will you walk me to the altar?” Char asked the old woman.
“Of course, my dear. It will be like walking on a cloud!” Margie Rose’s cheeks flushed from smiling so much.
Felicity directed Char to the spare bedroom and gave her time to herself, promising to do her hair and makeup once she was dressed. It took Char all of one minute to pull the dress on and button it. It showed a little more skin than she had expected, but again, fabric was in short supply. There were no more quick trips to Jo-ann Fabrics.
It was cocktail length and showed off Char’s legs, perfectly shaped and scar-free. Even the thin white line on her face was mostly unnoticeable. Ever since she and Terry had gotten together, she felt stronger and healthier than ever before. She chalked it up to breathing in strong pheromones and getting some of Terry’s nanocytes.
She knew that she looked good, but since the fall, she needed to be good. Looks had nothing to do with survival, which became foremost in the lives of all the people who wanted to live just one more day.
Then she happened to walk into a town where TH had a vision of a world that was well beyond tomorrow. And he worked tirelessly to achieve it.
“I am where I’m supposed to be, doing what I was meant to do,” she said to the mirror. She nodded to herself and opened the door to find Felicity patiently waiting.
The hair, the nails, the face. Felicity worked on Char as if it were her job. “Hey!” Char interjected. “Aren’t you going to have a ceremony, too?”
“Nah. Billy and I decided that this would be your day. We’ve already seen the deacon and taken care of business,” Felicity confided.
“So, you did what we wanted to do?” Char asked.
“Probably. You know how men are. They only want the ceremony because it’s supposed to make us girls hornier. I’ll tell you, I got no problem with that, if you get my drift!” Felicity giggled.
She stopped when she heard Marcie start crying. The ears of a mother were keenest of all. The sound quickly ended as Billy talked to the baby, and the two women could hear the floor creak from his pacing. She continued exactly where she left off.
“Sorry if you expected us to share some of the pain, but it seems that you are the most popular couple in town! Y’all need to just take your medicine and let the people show their appreciation.” Felicity looked down her nose at Char, who was sitting at a dressing table where various makeups and concoctions were spread out.
With an artist’s touch, Felicity swept around Char’s face, hesitating at what was left of the scar. “I don’t know what you did, honey, but I thought that scar was there forever. All of a sudden, it’s gone. It’s like a miracle happened right before our eyes,” Felicity drawled, looking sideways at Char.
How much does she really know? Char thought.
“You have to tell me, what’s it like being a Werewolf?” Felicity asked.
“Jeez, I don’t know. I can change into a Werewolf, bigger, stronger, faster, and much to Terry’s joy, I have a tail,” Char dodged, steering Felicity away from the killer pack conversation.
“Do you play, you know, while you’re a wolf?” Felicity probed.
“Not at all,” Char replied, looking at the mirror appreciatively. “You are a master of the palette, Felicity. Thank you so much. Shall we make our appearance downstairs?”
“What’s the chance that Terry Henry shows up all sweaty?” Felicity scowled.
“Just how I like him,” Char teased, giving the smaller woman a friendly push.
Felicity threw the door open and waved a hand as if she were introducing the queen.
***
The big change that had taken place between Terry’s departure and his return was that the area around Billy’s house was completely packed with people. Clyde ran to him with his tail between his legs.
“What’d you do, boy?” The dog didn’t answer, but he wouldn’t leave Terry’s side. He indubitably got into something he shouldn’t have, which probably earned him a smack with a wooden spoon or getting something thrown at him.
Deservedly so. He tended to get into too much. Terry loved the fact that his dog was a go-getter.
Others used critical terms like ‘undisciplined’ or ‘untrained.’
Terry ran the gauntlet of well-wishers, smiling and greeting them all. He was surprised that he knew most of their names and the names of their kids. He felt like a politician running for office.
I hope Char shows up soon. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and can get the hell out of here, he thought.
“There you are!” Antioch’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Make way, people! Let the groom through.”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses. Terry waved and slapped hands as he passed, getting into the spirit of the event. The people were so damned happy.
Who was he to disappoint them?
Antioch ushered him to the makeshift stage. When Terry stepped onto it, it wavered and groaned. When Antioch joined him, Terry thought it was going to splinter. The old man declared it to be nothing, but suggested they stand at predetermined points over top of the supports without moving around too much. Even Clyde looked at the stage oddly and some noises creaking from it, but he wouldn’t leave Terry’s side.
Terry stood tall, looking out over the smiling faces of the largest crowd he’d seen in over twenty-two years.
So this is what progress looks like. They need to know why they’re happy and it isn’t because Char and I are getting married, he thought.
Terry held his hands up for quiet. Claire and the other women from the kitchen trickled out the back door and joined the crowd.
“Good people of New Boulder! I thank you for coming to one of the happiest days of my life,” he said, projecting his voice so all could hear.
Many clapped and cheered, but he waved them to silence.
“What we are really here to celebrate is all of your accomplishments in making this a great town, the first in a new civilization. We are what we are because of you. Your hard work has put food on everyone’s table, put heat in their homes, and put lights on the streets. We smile and greet each other as friends, not enemies, not competitors, not anything other than friends, working together to make a better tomorrow.”
Terry looked at the crowd, saw the platoon securing one area, not intermingling. Mark gave him the thumbs up. Terry nodded in response as he tried to get the feel of what would resonate best with the civilians. He caught a couple people looking toward the food tables. “Let’s hear it for New Boulder!” he yelled and started clapping. He moved away from his designated spot and the board dipped dangerously, so he carefully moved back, giving Antioch the hairy eyeball.
The people continued to cheer and clap until Terry signaled for quiet. “What do you say we get this show on the road? I would hate to see any of that go to waste!”
More cheers as Terry looked at the back door expectantly.
Nothing.
Everyone continued to look back and forth from the door to Terry. Time seemed to drag on endlessly.
People cheered when the door opened, but they stopped when it was only Margie Rose, beaming as she walked slowly down the steps. Terry’s heart started to beat faster. Why was he nervous?
Felicity appeared next, carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Then Char appeared and Terry was stunned at the appearance of the raving beauty who was to be his wife.
“What did I do to deserve her?” he whispered to Antioch.
“I don’t know,
but it must have been something incredible, my friend,” the deacon replied.
The crowd was silent as Char passed. Terry’s stomach grumbled. He still hadn’t had anything to eat. Clyde looked at him as if it were dinnertime, but Terry shook his head.
Char made it to the stage and Terry tried to step forward to help her up, but Antioch grabbed him to keep from unbalancing the stage.
Margie Rose held out an arm that Char used to climb up and then carefully tiptoe across the stage. She was barefoot since her boots would not have done her dress justice. Terry wore his old jeans and a button-down shirt that Margie Rose had made for him a while ago. He felt like a bum standing next to such a radiant creature.
Char read the expression on his face. She leaned in close, brushing her lips on his ear. It gave him goosebumps.
He hoped that it always would. “You look great, my love.”
“And you, too,” he answered, whispering into the hair at the side of Char’s face. Then he gripped her shoulders and held her close. “I’ve got it! We make love like Klingons.”
Char leaned back, eyebrows raised as if looking at a petulant child. “I never liked Star Wars,” she replied. Terry choked and started to cough until Antioch slapped him on the back with his big hand.
She poked Terry in the ribs as they assumed their correct positions on the stage, freezing in place when the stage started to sway.
***
The pack crouched on the overlook, watching the city. The gathering of the people was unmistakable. Timmons waited for the question. The others sat expectantly, quietly watching Ted.
“Are we there yet?” he asked, the same expression on his face as every other time he asked.
“We are, Ted. We are here,” Timmons replied, wrapping an arm around his pack-mate and pulling him close. “And Char is down there, too, but not Marcus.”
“There are a lot more people than the last time we were here,” Sue said to no one in particular. “I wonder how that happened.”
Timmons hoisted his bag of gunpowder. “What do you say we make some fireworks? Seven of us, eight with Char, versus a few hundred humans? We will own that town by night’s end.”
The others nodded darkly. They were tired of running. It would be nice to have servants bring them whatever they desired.
Timmons stepped first from the ledge, hitting the soft ground underneath and sliding down the hill until the footing firmed up. His jaw set, he strode boldly downward. The others jumped over, one by one, and joined Timmons.
No one questioned his actions. They followed without complaint.
He was leading them as their alpha.
And Char was only minutes from him. “I’m coming, Charumati. I’m coming for you,” the Werewolf told Mother Earth as his pace quickened on its own.
He raced downward, ever downward until he reached the bottom, then he continued to a fairly well traveled street. Took one turn and headed straight for the gathering.
***
Char’s eyes shot wide and she looked at Terry in surprise. The deacon was mid-sentence. He stopped and looked at the couple. Char leaned close to her husband. “The pack is on their way here, right now.”
“How long, and are they in Were form?”
“Minutes at the most,” she answered. “Human.”
“Then let’s finish this. We’ll pull them aside when they get here. These people are used to seeing refugees.” Terry leaned back and looked at Antioch. “Let’s finish it up, deacon. We’ve got some visitors inbound, and they may not be pleasant.”
Antioch looked oddly at them, but both Terry and Char twirled a finger, encouraging him to hurry up.
CHAPTER FIFTY
“…Man and Wife. You may kiss the bride,” Antioch finished. They kissed quickly, then waved to the crowd.
“If you would, Antie, set up a receiving line. We’ll be along shortly,” Terry told him as they carefully moved to the edge of the stage and jumped down. Hand in hand, they walked away from the crowd.
The cheering and clapping died away as the people watched, but Antioch started yelling from atop the platform and soon the people forgot they were at a wedding as the food line took shape.
“I have my knife,” Terry whispered.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Char whispered back. “You bring a silvered knife to your wedding with a Werewolf. That’s pretty fucked up.”
“I have the other one, too, if that makes any difference.” Terry carried his knives everywhere. Char knew that, but her angst wasn’t with him. Terry had thought the bear cub would wreak havoc on the town. That was nothing compared to what a Werewolf pack could do.
They had walked only fifty yards before the new arrivals appeared, looking little better than hobos. Their clothing was a wild mix of items, held together with bits of rope and straps. Timmons walked up front with the others arrayed behind him. Terry and Char stood hand in hand and waited.
The pack stopped twenty feet away and the She-Wolves devoured Terry Henry Walton with their eyes. The males glared at Char. Timmons looked only at their hands.
“Where’s Marcus?” Timmons asked.
“Dead,” Char replied simply.
“Who’s this?”
Terry made to speak, but Char stopped him. “You look different, Timmons. Did eating people build your courage?”
Timmons growled, getting angry. He hadn’t envisioned Char standing up to him. He expected her to respect the alpha. “What happened to Marcus?”
“I killed him,” Char said boldly. “He was a pig, and I killed him.”
The She-Wolves shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other for confirmation that it would have been possible for Char to kill Marcus.
“How?” Timmons pressed, incredulous.
“While my husband held him, I bit his throat out. Then we sawed off his head using a silvered blade. He’s buried in the Wastelands, five days’ travel from here if you’d like to dig up his carcass,” Char offered.
Rage seized Timmons and he snarled. “Husband?” he blurted and stormed forward. Char let go of Terry’s arm and stepped to the side, trying to draw Timmons toward her. He didn’t take the bait.
Terry rocked to the balls of his feet, shifting one foot slightly rear of the other. He loosened his shoulders and tensed his arms, but didn’t raise his hands.
Timmons stopped in front of him, same height as Terry Henry, but his eyes were yellow and teeth slightly fanged. He examined the human, sniffing carefully.
Clyde barked and growled, but stayed back. Adams hissed at the dog.
“There’s something different about you, but I can’t tell what it is,” Timmons said. He locked eyes with Terry Henry and the stare-down began, where Timmons expected to weaken the human’s resolve. It didn’t work. Terry’s lip curled in a snarl.
Timmons leaned back and at Werewolf speed, sent his fist straight toward Terry’s face. At better than Werewolf speed, Terry’s hand was there. He caught Timmons’s fist, stopping it dead, mid-air. They stood that way for a millisecond until TH surged forward, grabbing Timmons’s neck as he powered into him.
With all the strength in Terry Henry’s body, he picked Timmons up, carried him for a step, and then slammed him into the ground. The street shook from the impact. The red glow in Terry’s eyes was unmistakable, but it quickly disappeared. The Werewolves wondered if they’d seen it at all.
Terry let go and stepped backward, giving Timmons the opportunity to continue the fight.
Timmons lay on his back, in agony, every bone in his rib cage broken. He closed his eyes as the healing process took over. Months of travel through the Wastelands and mountains to build up to a battle that lasted two seconds.
“What the fuck are you?” Timmons croaked. Char’s brow furled as she watched Terry.
He’d never shown that kind of strength before, but everything was different now, wasn’t it?
“My name is Terry Henry Walton,” Terry said, looking from face to face. The pack submitted by not movin
g, not questioning. "And I’m her fucking husband!"
Char was the first to do something. She strode to Timmons’s prostrate form, grabbed him under the armpits, and lifted him upright. She spun and threw him into the pack. Helpless to fight it, Timmons flew into Merrit and Adams, taking them down with him as the three of them rolled to the street.
Timmons groaned from the pain. The others stayed where they were. The scene would have looked ridiculous with Char kicking ass while wearing a wedding dress if it weren’t so deadly serious.
“I claim status as the alpha. Who wants to die tonight? Challenge me so I can see your blood drip from my fangs,” Char called. She walked up to the others, touching each, locking eyes, then moving to the next.
She lifted Timmons and dusted him off, despite his wincing and gasps of pain.
She stepped close until their noses were almost touching. “Swear your loyalty to me,” Char commanded.
“I accept you as my alpha,” Timmons conceded.
“And him, too,” Char prompted, loudly for all of them to hear.
“But he’s not a Werewolf and a pack can only have one alpha,” Timmons argued weakly, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s a new day. I’ve accepted him as my alpha and he’s accepted me as his. You will accept us both. Period.” Char lifted Timmons’s chin as she showed her perfectly white human teeth.
“I accept you both,” Timmons whispered.
“And you will be my beta, Timmons. Do you agree?” Char asked the rest of the pack. They nodded along with giving muffled affirmations.
Terry watched, wondering. Where had that strength come from? Did he now have a full pack of Werewolves to add to the Force? How would that work?
Too many questions for now. Clyde hadn’t accepted any of them. He continued to bark incessantly.
“If that’ll be all, I invite you to join us at our wedding reception. We have plenty of food, drink, and then we have work,” Char said, turning to Terry. “Timmons is a first-rate engineer, Merrit a chemist, Ted a nuclear engineer, Shonna’s an engineer, Xandrie a computer programmer, and Sue is a master of administration and finance.”
Nomad Omnibus 01: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 43
