Raising Wolves

by Preston Walker

  "Would, um... swallowing work?"

  Jeffery shook his head, and Jordan dropped his.

  "I was afraid of that."

  "Not much for being the bottom?"

  "Never have been. Don't really have an interest in it. Seems like it would be uncomfortable."

  "Depends on who you have on top, I guess," Jeffery mused, blushing as he gazed into the dark at his memories.

  Jordan shifted slightly, rearranging his pants around his growing bulge.

  "I guess you would be the one to turn me," Jordan said, thoughtfully.

  "Your options really boil down to me or Darla at this point, and I don't see her biting you voluntarily."

  Jordan laughed out loud at that, laughed until his breath was gone and his eyes watered.

  "God, you should see that kid when I tell her 'no'," he gasped. "She nearly ripped my arm off the other day. She would do it in the middle of a fit if I let her. Well, maybe. I'm not sure how upset she would have to be to actually maul me."

  "I barely know you and I'm wincing at the thought of mauling you," Jeffery admitted. "You're alright, for a human."

  "Gee, thanks," Jordan teased.

  "I mean it," Jeffery said, seriously. "I've seen shifter pups have temper tantrums. I'm really surprised that you stuck it out this long. I get it, now. You've taken your parental responsibilities in stride. If there were more people like you... in both species... my job would be a lot easier."

  "Do kids get dumped a lot?"

  "Too often," Jeffery said, sadly. "Find them digging through the trash, terrified and feral as all hell. Takes years of training and coaxing to get them to shift back to human, and a lot of times they're never comfortable that way. Once or twice we've rehomed them with a friendly wild pack of natural wolves. They seem to do alright in that environment."

  "That's heartbreaking."

  Jeffery nodded. "One of the worst parts of my job."

  "Why do you do it?" Jordan asked.

  Jeffery sighed and gazed up at the twinkling stars.

  "Because I save more than I don't," he said. "When that changes, I'll quit. For right now... I can't bear the thought of lost shifters. Newly turned or abandoned toddlers. I can't sleep at night knowing that they're out there, frightened and alone and dangerous to themselves and everyone around them. It's no way to live. We aren't animals, not anymore. We're better than that. And if I can save two... well, the one that I have to put down or rehome is almost worth it. Almost. It kills me a little bit more every time."

  "I don't doubt it," Jordan said. He moved as if to touch Jeffery, but pulled back.

  Jeffery closed the distance between their fingers, touching Jordan. It sent shocks of electricity through his body, a spark he hadn't felt from such a simple touch since he was a boy at school. Jordan had somehow managed to slip by his every defense and awaken something deep inside, down where he thought he was dead. His pants grew tight, and he admonished himself for his impulsiveness. Now was not the time. He dared a glance up into Jordan's kaleidoscope eyes and his heart skipped a beat. Jordan was looking at him with the same smoldering flame that Jeffery felt burning in his core. Jeffery felt paralyzed. He didn't make the first move; he never made the first move, but Jordan's full lips beckoned him in the moonlight. He played the scene again and again in his head; he leans forward, Jordan moves to meet him, sparks fly. If only he could bring himself to move.

  Jordan didn't wait for him to. He closed the space between them, brushing his lips lightly against Jeffery's. The gentle touch started a cascade of molten lust swirling through Jeffery's body, igniting him from the inside out. Pressing back, he tasted the simple humanity on Jordan's mouth and trembled, feeling like a shaken soda ready to explode. Jordan pulled back and gazed at him, his eyes dark with lust.

  "Hope you don't mind," he said.

  "Nope," Jeffery squeaked, embarrassingly.

  Darla cried out from inside the camper, and Jordan was on his feet in an instant.

  "I better go to her. Would you like to sleep in the cab tonight?"

  It took Jeffery a moment to make his brain start working again.

  "Oh! No. I won't be sleeping. I turned the GPS off on my phone, but I was updating Bates on my location from the restaurant to the off ramp. I'd better stay on guard. Thanks, though," he said, mildly disappointed that Jordan hadn't offered him a place in his bed.

  "Here," Jordan said, fishing keys out of his pocket. "In case you change your mind."

  "Thanks," Jeffery said again.

  Darla cried out again, and Jordan disappeared into the camper. His soothing voice floated back to Jeffery like a ripple of chocolate through a bowl of ice cream, and Jeffery drank it in. Jordan was utterly intoxicating. For a moment, Jeffery could almost forgive Alex's betrayal. He completely understood falling head over heels for Jordan. The camper lock slid shut a few moments later, and Jeffery suddenly felt more alone than he had any right to feel. He shook himself and paced a circle around the truck, keeping an eye out for suspicious human and animal activity.

  An hour after Jordan had gone to bed, Jeffery realized that it was time to move. He shoved his laptop into his satchel, double-checked that the door of the camper was secure and flipped the keys in his hand. He briefly considered waking Jordan and the girl before he did it, but there wasn't time. He'd seen their eyes in the distance; heard their hunting calls.

  Montague's men had found him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Darla's scream woke Jordan from a dead sleep.

  "Daddy!" she shrieked. "The stars falling!"

  Jordan rolled out of bed and hit his head on the wall before falling backward down the ladder. He'd forgotten where he was, and had expected his bed to be where it had always been, right across the room from Darla's in their little basement apartment. Dizzy and throbbing with pain, he stumbled his way to her bed as the floor vibrated and rolled beneath him. He pulled her curtains open, and looked where she was frantically pointing. Streetlights zoomed past them at incredible speeds; fast enough to look like falling stars. God damn it, Jeffery! He kept the thought inside his head, and crawled into bed with Darla. She climbed onto his lap and nuzzled her face into his shirt, hiding from the lights.

  "The stars aren't falling, baby," he told her, gently. "We're on a spaceship, flying past the stars."

  "Where we going?"

  "To a magical land, filled with people who are just like you. They shift and howl, just like you do. The moon makes them feel funny and bright, just like you. There are hundreds of them, and they're all dying to meet you."

  "Me?"

  "That's right. You know why?"

  "Why?" she asked, through a yawn.

  "Because you're a princess," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

  "I know, Daddy," she said, sleepily adamant.

  "Good," he chuckled. "Then it won't be a shock when people start calling you Princess Darla."

  She yawned again and quickly fell asleep against his chest. He held her tight, bracing his feet against the end of the bed to keep them steady, mapping out what he would do if they crashed. His body ached to go back to sleep, but he stayed alert through sheer force of will. Without her car seat, she was vulnerable. He tapped the glass on her window. It felt like safety glass, but there was no way for him to be certain. He imagined this camper probably wasn't designed for this, and just hoped that Jeffery was a decent enough driver. He watched the lights flip by outside the window and tried to guess how fast they were going. Faster than the speed limit, he was sure. A twinge of dread made him think that he knew why. He hoped he was wrong.

  He played with the idea that maybe Jeffery was hijacking him and taking him somewhere unknown to be drawn and quartered or ground into dog food, but that didn't fit with the man he'd met. The man he'd kissed, impulsively; stupidly. He considered that maybe Jeffery was just too impatient or restless to wait till morning. The moon was full, after all, and that had a particular effect on werewolves. But there were two other possibilitie
s that were both more probable, and more terrifying. Either Jeffery was running from someone who was hunting them, or he had been overcome by werewolves back at camp and now one of them was driving him to places unknown for the drawing, quartering, dog food scenario. Jordan desperately hoped for the former. He would rather run than fight these days; a fight lost was a daughter abandoned, and that was simply unacceptable.

  He watched the window for what seemed like hours. Three times flashing red and blue lights lit up the dark, and three times the truck outran them. Jordan couldn't imagine how. The truck wasn't anything particularly special and, with such a heavy load, it shouldn't have been possible to outrun the police. But it did, and he found himself simply accepting the reality, however insane it seemed. He watched the sun rise, and experienced the odd out-of-body feeling of standing still and moving fast all at once as the sun maintained its position in the sky and the world whipped by.

  Morning traffic began soon after, and he felt the truck slow dramatically. Now that they were moving more slowly, Jordan could hear the hollow rattle of his nearly-empty gas tank, and hoped that the driver was paying attention. As soon as they stopped for gas, he could jump out and evaluate the situation. He mentally ran through a list of everything he had in the trailer, trying to find something he could use as a weapon. He came up empty, hoping he'd missed a bit of wood or a paint roller in his hurry to unload the trailer, but he didn't think he had. All he could do was hope that Jeffery was behind the wheel. He watched as the truck moved over to the right lane and rolled down a ramp as the sun blazed aggressively through the morning smog.

  Darla began to roll and mumble on his chest, murmuring as her dreams disappeared. Jordan cursed internally.

  "Goo' morning, Daddy," she said, sleepily.

  "Good morning, Darla. We're about to stop. I need you to stay in bed for me, okay?"

  "Potty," she said, with a grimace.

  Jordan hesitated for just a second before lifting her and carrying her across the floor to the little closet of a bathroom. Just as they reached it, the truck turned sharply, and Jordan had to spin and brace himself with his free hand to avoid squishing her between his body and the wall. The truck stopped just as her situation was becoming critical, and he got her to the seat just in time. He looked out the window, and saw that they were at a gas station.

  "Stay right there," he told her, firmly.

  She blinked sleepily at him, and he decided to take it as an agreement. He peered out the window, but was blinded by the fractal glare of the rising sun reflecting through the shiny pumps, and he couldn't see more than a shadow of the person who was pumping gas. Creeping to the back of the camper as slowly as he could, he carefully swung the door open. The horde of zombified weekend workers shuffling through their morning routines were too tired to care what happened one pump over. He peered around the corner of the truck. The man's back was to him, but the sun ignited his fuzzy, spiky hair in an utterly recognizable way.

  "Jeffery," he said, stepping around the truck.

  Jeffery turned.

  "Good morning," he said, sounding exhausted.

  "Yeah, decent morning. Where the hell are we?"

  "Um... I think we're still in California," Jeffery said. "Got my GPS off, just kinda picked a direction and went with it."

  "Uh-huh. Why?"

  "Wolves," Jeffery said shortly, slumping against the truck. "Rest stop surrounded. Had to book it."

  "Oh. Well... thanks. Did you do something to the truck?"

  "Fuel additive. Had some in my satchel. Blessed by a priestess or something, I dunno. Makes things go farther; faster; less fuel. We're way north of where we were, I know that much."

  "North is good, right? That's where we want to be?"

  Jeffery nodded mutely, his lids sliding down over his eyes. He jerked himself awake and shook his body.

  "You need a nap," Jordan commented. "I'll get Darla strapped in; you take the top bunk for a while."

  "Gotta stay on guard," Jeffery murmured.

  "Yeah, and if we're attacked right now what are you gonna do, yawn on them? Go take a nap, I'll handle it."

  "Okay," Jeffery sighed, hanging the nozzle back up. "It's full."

  "Thanks."

  Jeffery began trudging toward the back of the truck, and Jordan capped the tank and followed.

  "Daddy!" Darla screamed.

  Jordan pushed past Jeffery, nearly knocking him over, and bolted into the back of the camper.

  "What's wrong? I'm here!"

  She was alone in the camper, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes from her seat on the toilet.

  "Uh... help me?" She asked.

  He sighed with relief. Adrenaline, relief, adrenaline... if the wolves didn't kill him, the mini heart attacks would, he thought. He got her cleaned up and dressed, then walked her to the back of the camper as Jeffery tried to hoist himself up into the truck. The missing stairs weren't a problem until someone tried to get in while tired. Jordan leaned over to set Darla gently on the pavement ("Touch the truck, Darla."), then lifted Jeffery in to the truck. He waited for the door to lock, then he strapped Darla in and gave her what would have to pass for breakfast – a cereal bar and a juice pouch. She was satisfied with it, which made his life easier, and he slid behind the wheel.

  "Where going, Daddy?" she asked.

  "Somewhere safe," he told her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Somewhere with people like you."

  "Hungry."

  "You just had a cereal bar. Let's drive for a little while then we'll get lunch, okay?"

  "Hungry!"

  "What are you hungry for?"

  "Um, banana... cookie... monster pie..."

  "Monster pie?"

  She giggled behind her hands.

  "Bananas and cookies sound good. But first, music. Or cartoons. Which one would you like?"

  "Cartoons!"

  "You got it."

  He cued up her favorite to stream on his laptop, then propped the computer on the center console where she could see it. The inane opening song made him wince. He really wished he could get her hooked on some other show; something that was better for her developing mind, but there was something about that irritating little sponge that she absolutely adored. Tuning it out, he checked his phone for new messages from his clients. His phone popped up with the automatic notification that it would take him eleven hours, twenty-eight minutes to get home from his current location. He didn't think anything of it for a moment, but then he froze. Montague had his phone number, and he hadn't turned his GPS off. Sudden dread made his hands sweat. He updated the settings quickly, and shut his phone down for good measure. He decided he needed to put some distance between his last known location and himself before hunting down a grocery store, so he hit the highway, figuring that Darla would be distracted for at least forty minutes by her show.

  He didn't get so lucky. Within twenty minutes, she was whining about being hungry again.

  "Here, sweetie, have another cereal bar."

  "Yucky!"

  "It's all we have right now, baby. We're stopping at a grocery store in just a few minutes. Do you want the cereal bar?"

  "No!" she screamed. "Yucky! Want banana!"

  "I know, and I'm gonna get you a banana, you just have to..."

  "Want banana!"

  Her scream nearly burst his eardrums, and he snapped.

  "Darla! You do not scream in the car! We will get bananas when we get to the store!"

  "Now!"

  "I don't have any bananas right now."

  She began to wail. He checked the mirror and found her eyes dry and her face red. She was more angry than anything else, and she was just going to have to deal with being angry until he got them to a safer place.

  "Watch your show quietly, or I'm going to have to turn it off," he told her.

  She glared at him and crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to return the gesture. He breathed deeply, reminding himself that h
e was the adult around here, and he needed to behave like one. He ground his teeth and gripped the steering wheel. She stayed quiet, but kicked her feet petulantly every few minutes, watching him in the mirror to see if he was going to react. Settling into a Zen place in his mind, he focused on nothing but the road. She was testing him, and he knew it. He just wished she'd chosen a better time.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jeffery awoke, startled by the silence and the stillness. He'd been rocked to sleep by the vibrations of the truck, and had been lost to the dreamless sleep of one who had been awake for too long. The second the vibrations stopped, he'd been jolted awake. He leapt from the top bunk, instantly alert. His body was functioning normally now, and he wondered how long he'd actually been out. He checked his watch. Two hours. His heart sank. Anything could have happened in that time. He ran to the window and peered out. Sunlight glittered off of an army of parked cars. He rubbed his eyes, forcing them to adjust, and looked up to see the familiar blue and yellow sign of a superstore. He breathed an irritated sigh. Jordan shouldn't have taken her to such a public place without backup.

  He stepped out of the camper and closed the door tight behind him, wishing he had the key. As he turned to walk into the store, he saw something that made his heart sink. A rough-looking man in a sharp suit and fedora was standing by the sliding doors, reading his phone. He was normal enough, considering the location, but something about him made Jeffery uneasy. He walked closer, deliberately ignoring the man, and stopped to tie his shoe a few feet away. He inhaled deeply through his nose as he stood, and caught the scent. The man was a shifter, and not one that Jeffery recognized.

  Heart pounding, Jeffery walked into the store, fighting himself to keep his pace steady and casual. In the little security television over the door, he watched the man walk in a few paces behind him. He had to wonder if the man had recognized him. The store spread out in front of him in endless departments, and aisles upon aisles of things, and Jeffery was stuck. He had no idea why Jordan had brought the girl to this place, so he had no idea where to start looking for them. She's a shifter, she gets bored easily, Jeffery thought. They're probably here for toys. He searched the signs hanging from the ceiling, and chose his direction. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the fedora and veered off the tiled walkway and into the women's underwear. The fedora didn't follow, and Jeffery breathed a sigh of relief.