Wild Passions

by A Storm Moon Press Anthology

  The fox pointed his finger at someone in front of him, hidden from Jake's sight. "This guy's full of bullshit," he growled. "The chief is gonna die if we don't act soon, and all this idiot has to offer is talk. I've had enough!"

  "Ethan, stop it." It was Liam's voice, calm and firm. Jake strained to hear. "I know we don't share the same views, but what you're proposing is insane. It would be a massacre. I understand you're impatient, but that's not the right way to go."

  "Do not tell me what's right!" Ethan snapped. "You hang out with humans. You make friends with them. You brought a fucking human right here! You have no idea what's best for our people, so just shut the fuck up!"

  "We've had this argument more times than I can remember," Liam's tone grew cold. "I'm tired of trying to convince you. We will not attack full front, and that's final. We'll carry on with the plan as discussed; we'll infiltrate the lab as quietly as possible, free the chief, and leave. Quietly. End of discussion."

  Ethan looked about to spit at him. "You think you got some fucking right to stand there and be the boss? So you're a white fox, how cool, now let's go bend over for your new man buddy and screw everything up," he sneered. "That why you brought him here? You got the hots for the big guy's cock?"

  "Cut to the chase, Ethan," Liam said flatly. "We both know what's really bothering you."

  "White foxes. Think you're so much better than the rest of us, don't you?" Ethan growled. "Your rank means nothing. You're a pussy, that's what you are, scared to get your pretty fur dirty. That's not how things get done; that's not how you protect your people."

  "That's exactly how I protect our people." Liam stood up and walked forward, entering Jake's field of vision. His expression was damn near frightening in its coldness. "I protect them by not sending them to be slaughtered when it can be avoided. I protect them by not giving the militia the perfect excuse to hunt us down and wipe us out once and for all. The chief gave me this responsibility, and you will respect that. Or do you challenge his authority as well?"

  "Don't you dare talk to me about him." Ethan sprang forward, his hand clutching Liam's throat, the nails biting into the skin. The other foxes tensed, shifting forward, yet no one dared intervene. Jake clenched his fists and struggled not to jump to Liam's rescue. "The chief trusts you, God knows why, but he's wrong. You're weak, Liam. You don't have the guts to do what needs to be done to get rid of this human scum."

  Liam's eyes were pale, golden ice. "We're not murderers," he said. "You can accept that, or you can leave. Now get out of my face."

  Seconds dragged on. Ethan finally let go, taking a step back, and his fingers were red with Liam's blood.

  "Fine," he spat. "None of these fucking cowards dare agree with me, and I can't attack alone. I'll do as you say." He turned on his heel and walked to the door, yanking it open. "I'll teach you a lesson one day, Liam. Mark my words."

  And with that, he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Jake flattened himself against the aluminum wall, but Ethan didn't pay attention to his surroundings, and he soon disappeared from sight.

  Jake released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and turned to peer once more inside the room. Liam stood still, unfazed by the angry red marks on his neck.

  "We are on your side, Liam," a blond fox said, one of his ears crooked and scarred. An approving murmur rose around the room, everyone nodding and looking very supportive.

  Jake rolled his eyes. Now you take sides, you jerks.

  "I wish he could understand." Liam crossed his arms. "I fear his thirst for blood will put us all in trouble one day. Should he--" he stopped, abruptly. His nose twitched, a flicker of emotion passing over his features. In a heartbeat it was gone, and Liam was shaking himself and reaching up to brush his hair away from his bloodied neck nonchalantly.

  "So," he said. "Can anyone tell me what the hell is wrong with the waterworks this time?"

  Jake moved back then, carefully placing each step on the cluttered ground until he was at a safe distance from the shed. His head was spinning.

  What the bloody, ever-loving fuck was going on?

  Jake sat on his rickety bed, head bent. He was absently rubbing his shoulder, the shirt's fabric rough under his fingertips. When the door was yanked open, he didn't look up.

  Liam's footsteps were light as he walked to his bed, ostentatiously turning his back to Jake. At the corner of his vision, Jake could see the white blur of Liam's tail as it twitched angrily from side-to-side. His lips curled up in the smallest of grins. Liam would have been pissed to know his cool act was betrayed so easily.

  Jake straightened up, repressing a grimace when his shoulder protested. "I made you tea."

  Liam hesitated a moment before answering. "You didn't have to wait up for me." He didn't turn around as he shrugged out of his jacket, his hair falling haphazardly on the tense muscles of his back.

  "Shut up," Jake said. He rested his elbows on his legs, hands hanging between his knees. "Just drink the bloody tea already."

  He could hear the smile in Liam's snort of contempt. Obediently, the fox stepped to the small stove and retrieved a chipped mug. He hit Jake on the head with his tail, and Jake graciously took the hint and scooted to the side, allowing Liam to settle down beside him.

  Silence stretched like the thread of a psychotic spider.

  When Liam spoke, his voice was low. "Just ask."

  Jake's head snapped up. "What?" he blurted. He could feel his face heating up and tried frantically to think of a way to divert Liam's attention. "It's really unkind to assume I made you tea as... as some sort of bribe. You should know that I'm a really nice and thoughtful person."

  Liam's ears gave the tiniest twitch. "You know, rotting potatoes have a really peculiar smell." He leaned to the side, craning his neck to gently nuzzle the hair on Jake's nape, and breathed in. Jake fought to repress a shiver. "Especially intense. Even keeping downwind isn't really enough."

  Jake couldn't quite swallow until Liam moved back. Liam tilted his head to the side, and that infuriating smile was on his lips again. "Really?" Jake squeaked. "How interesting. I didn't know that. But you know, there were plenty of people in the kitchen today, like, at least... well, a lot of people. So, in case you, you know, smelled someone, chances are, it wasn't me. I mean," he cleared his throat. "Well. A lot of people."

  Liam just stared at him, one eyebrow cocked. Jake wondered what sort of chance he had that, say, a mutant pigeon would fly in and kidnap Liam. That way, he could look all manly while rescuing the stupid fox and his current ridiculous predicament would be forever forgotten.

  Not much of one, Jake reckoned.

  "Okay, fine," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "No use in trying to lie. Yes, it was me, and yes, I've been wondering what the hell it was all about. But, you don't have to tell me. I just... when Ethan..."

  "Politics. You needn't concern yourself," the fox said.

  Jake hesitated. He felt it would be frighteningly easy to say too much. "I don't want to cause you trouble."

  "This isn't about you." Liam's hands cradled gently the mug. He sounded very tired. "It's about Ethan and whatever issues he's got with his rank in the pack, and... with me."

  Jake could feel icy claws sink in his stomach. Whatever issues Ethan had with Liam, he realized, they seemed much too personal for his liking. The way the fox had been almost brushing Liam's lips as he spoke, his hand on Liam's neck, the bitter gleam in his eyes when he'd accused Liam of sleeping with men, as if he'd been mad with... jealousy. Suddenly, it all made a sickening sense.

  Liam carried on, oblivious. "White foxes, we're the only ones to have powers. Tradition has it we're the leaders' caste. Destined from birth to guide the pack. Of course, that's bullshit, but..." He rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes. "Ethan doesn't understand he can't lead us into a war with the humans. He cannot see why such bloodshed would be wrong. That's why he can't be our leader. That's why the chief chose me. But he doesn't see t
hat."

  "What happened to the chief?" Jake asked, a hollow, worried sense settling in his chest. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

  Liam reached to carefully place the mug on the floor. "He was captured," he said. "The militia has a lab where they try to figure out our powers. They want to see whether they can be transplanted or some shit. Experiments. We know from our informants that he's still alive, but..."

  "I understand," Jake said. His skin prickled. He knew the place Liam was talking about. He knew it well. He wasn't particularly proud of it. "My opinion doesn't count for much, but there's no glory in murder. And they would come after you. It would be a death sentence, but you know that. You're a wise leader, Liam." Jake could hear his own heart thumping loudly in his ears.

  Liam's smile was a mere curve of his lips, yet impossibly luminous. "Thanks for the tea," he whispered.

  Jake had never been fond of words. There were too many, all too empty, all that sounded just not quite right. He lifted his hand, hesitant, his fingers painfully awkward in mid-air, and reached to brush a long white lock away from Liam's face. Liam's eyes were wide and wary, gleaming dimly in the room. Jake leaned forward and captured Liam's mouth.

  Liam's lips were warm and ripe when Jake traced them with his tongue. Liam didn't move for a long, pulsing, painful instant. Then, with a soft sigh, he leaned into Jake, kissing back, his hand pressed to Jake's chest. The warmth of Liam's body seeped into Jake's bloodstream, pleasant and near damn intoxicating. He clutched Liam tighter, pulling him close, one hand buried in his hair, the other at the small of his back. Soft, inquiring brushes of lips gave way to hungry, open-mouthed kisses. Liam's arms slid around Jake's neck as he straddled Jake's lap, his white hair everywhere. Jake groaned into the kiss, pushing his thigh up between Liam's legs, drunk on Liam's flavor.

  "Fox," he rasped, interrupted by Liam's tongue licking a dirty stripe up his neck. He felt teeth graze the corner of his jaw, and shuddered. "God damn you, fox."

  Liam's head snapped up, his ears twitching. He pulled back abruptly, slipping out of Jake's grip, cheeks flushed and eyes pointed at the door. Jake blinked, his arms suddenly empty, his whole body aching--burning--from the loss of Liam's touch. Before he could pull himself together enough to ask what the bloody fuck, the door whipped open and Kye's small head poked inside.

  "Hey, kid," Liam said, managing to sound remarkably normal, if a little breathless. "It's the middle of the night. Was wondering where you'd ended up this time."

  He cast a quick glance in Jake's direction before he rose, tossing his hair behind his shoulders, and walked to his bed. When Jake averted his eyes from Liam's form-- from the inviting hips that were under his hand mere seconds before--he found Kye looking at him inquisitively. He did his best not to glare in return.

  Within minutes, Kye was sprawled on Liam's stomach, snoring peacefully. Liam's eyes were closed. From his bed, Jake couldn't tell whether the fox was awake or not.

  He let himself fall onto his pillow. This was bad. He couldn't get involved. He just couldn't.

  He covered his face with his hands and let out a deep breath.

  This was very bad.

  He was alone in the shed when he heard the screaming.

  Jake yanked the door open and found himself in the midst of chaos. The foxes were tumbling out their barracks, sprouting from fucking everywhere, yelling and calling and running past, all in the same direction. They were lifting their heads, trying to see into the distance, their eyes wide with uncertain terror. Without hesitation, Jake forced his way into the crowd, advancing in large strides toward whatever it was they were trying to reach. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good. Maybe he could help.

  As he neared the border of the camp, the crowd suddenly froze, foxes stumbling over one another. Some craned their head back and let out low, keening wails. They sent shivers down Jake's back. Just what the hell...

  Then he saw.

  Two dark haired foxes were walking slowly toward the camp, their faces drawn in pained grimaces. And between them--kept upright by their arms around his back--stumbled a lean, heart-wrenchingly familiar figure. White hair hung in tangles, streaked in harsh red. The same dark, too-vivid red stained the torn jeans, the tattered shirt, gleamed in ghastly patterns over pale arms, and trickled from limp hands. The fox proceeded slowly, half walking, half dragged, his head lowered.

  Jake's heart missed a beat.

  Surely it couldn't be, he thought frantically, in desperate denial. It was some horrible, horrible mistake. Surely there were other white foxes. Surely--

  The fox raised his face, pale and bruised and spattered with blood. Pained golden eyes scanned the crowd as if in a daze, and Jake was running, running like hell, shouldering his way between the foxes, his mind gone blank except from the imperious need to just get to him.

  "Liam," he called, sheer terror lacing his voice. He broke across the edge of the stunned crowd and flew across the feet that separated him from the trio. The fox's eyes snapped on him, disoriented, and then grew wider, seeming to focus.

  He mouthed, Jake, and then again, Jake, without a sound. He lifted his arms from the shoulders of his two companions and tried to disentangle himself from their grasp, to step forward. His legs gave out and Jake was barely in time to catch him as he fell, winding his arms around the fox, holding him up.

  "Liam--oh, God, Liam," he murmured when the fox looked up at him, a furious anguish on his features. Jake reached with trembling fingers to push away bloodied locks clinging to his forehead, his lips, and tried fruitlessly to wipe away some of the blood on his face. "Are you wounded, do you need--"

  Liam just shook his head, his hands fisted in Jake's shirt. The smell of blood was sickening.

  "They attacked us," he whispered. His voice was rough, ruined; he must have screamed his throat raw, screamed until he just couldn't make a sound anymore. Sudden anger sizzled down Jake's spine, making him stiffen.

  "It's okay. You don't have to say anything." He slipped his arm around the fox's back in order to hold him up. "Let's take care of you. Can you walk? Can you..."

  But Liam shook his head again, clinging to him, refusing to let go. "They were too many," he said, his eyes too wide. "They took... Samuel and Eric and Matthew and... and the others," he choked out. "Dead. All dead."

  Around them, Jake could feel the wails increase, the foxes howling their mourning to the sky. He couldn't bring himself to care. Liam was in his arms; Liam was alive. The rest of the world could have been burning, and he wouldn't have noticed.

  "It's okay," he repeated foolishly. He tightened his hold on the fox. "You're safe now. It's okay."

  Gravel crunched loudly under Jake's boots as he walked. That was good. He wanted to give the fox time to hear him, smell him, recognize him. He inched closer, careful not to slosh the water he carried in a tin bowl. A clean cloth that Kye had found God knows where was stuffed in his pocket.

  Liam sat on what remained of a low wall, hands braced on the ruined bricks.

  He had insisted on being left alone as soon as he'd calmed down and been able to stand without help. Everyone had complied, respectful and maybe a little afraid of crossing him. Until now.

  Slowly, Jake placed the bowl on the ground and sat down beside the fox. Liam didn't look at him. "Are you--" he broke off, the words dying in his throat. There was no point in asking questions. He already knew the answers. He lifted his face, staring up at the starless sky. Even the black of the night seemed stained, smudged with the city's smoke and blood and dirt. He let his hands dangle between his knees, glancing at Liam's expressionless face. "I'm glad you made it back."

  Liam just blinked. He was shivering, his clothes torn and bloody. The shirt someone had tossed on his shoulders was not nearly enough to shelter him from the wind. He didn't seem to notice.

  "Liam," Jake repeated softly. "I'm glad you came back to us." To me. Because, if you'd died...

  Silence pulsed like an open w
ound.

  "They didn't take me," Liam said then. His voice seemed to come from a far, far away place. "I was on the ground. I had been shot, and I couldn't move. My chest, my neck. My legs. There was blood everywhere."

  "They left you for dead," Jake murmured.

  "They thought I'd bleed out before they could even reach the lab." Liam's eyes were vacant. "One of them wanted to shoot me in the head. Put me out of my misery. His captain wouldn't let him." He gave a short, barking laugh. "The sadistic bastard saved my life."

  Something snapped inside Jake's chest. He leaned forward, covering his mouth with his hands. For the first time in many years, he felt the overwhelming need to pray, to have someone to thank. "Your power," he said, almost choking on the knot in his throat. "You healed yourself."

  Liam just closed his eyes, tilting his head back. His locks swayed gently in the breeze. "I tried to heal them," he said. Bloodstains on pale skin. "The others they left. When I could move, I tried to heal them. But they--"

  "Please, don't," Jake whispered. Liam ignored him.

  "They were dead. All of them." He lifted his hand, staring at it without any expression. Blood had dried in harsh streaks on his arm. His eyes sparkled golden, and a faint luminous aura appeared around his hand. It pulsed gently, a slow, warm heartbeat. "Convenient power. And yet, it's useless."

  "No." Before he realized what he was doing, Jake's hand closed around Liam's wrist. "Don't you dare say that. Your power is the most amazing thing in this fucking world. Because it kept you alive. Because I--" Liam was looking at him with incredibly wide eyes, as if he had only just begun to really see. Jake swallowed. "You survived for a reason. Your people need a leader. They need you. You survived so you could take care of them."

  Slowly, Liam nodded. The light around his hand faded, flickered, and then disappeared altogether. Jake could barely hold back a relieved sigh. Liam was there again, returned from whatever depths he'd been drowning in.

  "You're right," Liam said. His voice, though still harsh, was no longer a haunted whisper. "I am here for a reason. That's why I gave orders to accelerate the plan. We're going to free our brothers. That's all that matters."