They found a grungy little rest stop off of I-80, just west of the foothills, and pulled in. Jeffery volunteered to handle the water and waste so that Jordan could handle Darla. Jordan considered the best way to phrase his question as he rounded the car to open her door. As it turned out, the point was moot. She was already dead asleep. He peeled her out of her car seat carefully, and gently rolled her into his arms. He noticed suddenly how big she was getting. It wouldn't be long before she was as tall as his waist. For most kids, that wouldn't mean a whole lot; for her though, it meant that she would probably be capable of taking a grown man down. He was simultaneously relieved and apprehensive about that. Relieved because it meant that she would be able to protect herself, and apprehensive because he knew that she wouldn't always use her powers for good.
His concerns fled his mind as he lay her in her bed and covered her up to her chin. She looked like an angel when she slept, utterly innocent and completely harmless. She was innocent enough really. But she was far from harmless. He kissed her fine, red-brown hair and closed her curtains, wishing her sweet dreams. A loud thud from outside startled him, and he was instantly on alert. A second thud followed, and he realized that he was just hearing Jeffery put the caps back on the reservoirs. He sighed with mild irritation at the incessant anxiety of the last few days and rubbed a hand over his face. They needed to get to a safe place and they needed to get there soon. He was not set up for this kind of life, not anymore. He didn't like it. Things that would have once been exciting were now terrifying, and it had everything to do with his daughter. It was time for him to learn some new skills.
"That didn't take long," Jeffery said, surprised.
"Yeah, she passed out before we parked, I think."
He shot a glance around the rest stop and, once again, they were the only ones there.
"Any news from your people?" he asked.
Jeffery shook his head.
"Radio silence," he explained. "Until they plug the leaks, it's the only way to keep her safe."
Jordan nodded.
"Speaking of keeping her safe," he said, slowly. "I need to learn to fight."
"I’ll help you," Jeffery said, nodding. "I avoid it on principle, but I still know what I'm doing."
"You remember training from that long ago?" Jordan asked.
"Well yeah. I mean, it's a little fuzzy, but there are some things that stick with you."
"Understandable," Jordan said, with a shrug. "I'm mostly concerned about being able to fight immediately after shifting. Seems like it would take a lot of effort to push through the pain."
"Pain...? Oh! No, it's not painful. Not after the first time. See the first time, your body is essentially re-writing itself from the ground up. Now that it's already been re-written, you can shift painlessly. Well, almost painlessly. It's difficult at first, and I guess the pain does stick around a while. But it's similar to tattoos and piercings. Hurts like a son of a bitch at first, but eventually the pain wears off and you're left with only what you want."
"That makes sense," Jordan said, relieved. "I was having a hard time figuring out why and how Darla does it, but if it doesn't hurt her..."
"Oh, no, it doesn't hurt her at all. Never has. She was born into it, so her DNA is designed to shift. Yours had to be written over."
"You just used a programming metaphor," Jordan said, with a cocky little smile.
"I know my audience," Jeffery returned.
"Your audience wouldn't be opposed to your knowing it better." Jordan's heart fluttered dangerously in his chest as the words escaped his lips.
Jeffery met his eyes with a cocky little smile, and Jordan was dangerously close to forgetting the sparring exercise in favor of a different sort of physicality.
"Let's get you trained," Jeffery said, interrupting his musings. "There's a good chance you'll need to know what you're doing, and soon."
"Right," Jordan said briskly, letting the moment pass by uninhibited. "Where do we start?"
"What gets your hackles up?" Jeffery asked. "What makes you feel angry enough to fight?"
Jordan thought about that for a long moment.
"I don't do much fighting when I'm angry," he said, finally. "I've fought to protect people. Darla especially. When I get that fighting adrenaline going, it's never... well, I don't want to say never, that's a little absolute... but I don't remember ever getting that rush after being angry. It's only ever happened when someone I loved was in danger."
"That's where we'll start, then," Jeffery said. "Close your eyes. Imagine a convoy of shifters coming up the hill. Darla steps out of the camper just as they pull up."
The image was immediately vivid in Jordan's mind. It was his greatest fear; a fear which had just recently developed. He felt adrenaline course through his body, twisting around his spine, shooting through his limbs out to the tips of his fingers and toes.
"Good," Jeffery said. "Now flex."
Jordan did so and as he moved he felt his shirt tear across his back. His muscles quivered in a way that was reminiscent of the instant prior to orgasm and suddenly he knew what he was waiting for. That release, like a sneeze; a reflexive reaction. He stopped thinking about it, and just focused on the image of Darla surrounded by werewolves. His pants split, his belt cutting painfully across his middle, and he exploded out of his human form. Opening his eyes, he felt he was looking down at Jeffery. He stretched his arms and curled his fingers, fascinated by the way the kitten-soft fur rippled over his newly-defined muscles. Long, yellow claws tipped his fingers, and his new top-heavy weight was balanced by a long, bushy tail. He spun for a moment, feeling the way his reborn body moved and balanced, touching the instincts which had awakened within him.
He saw more colors than he'd seen in wolf form, but fewer than he'd seen in human form. The world was a painting in blues, grays, yellows and reds, like an old sixteen-bit computer screen. A silly little corner of his brain began playing the theme song to an old game he used to play as a kid, and he grinned.
"Good," Jeffery said, taking his shirt off. "Now we're going to see what you've got."
Jordan watched as Jeffery carefully disrobed and set his clothes aside. His breath caught in his throat; Jeffery was gorgeous. Not in a traditional way, but his thin frame was wrapped with taught, coiled muscles. He was wiry and fit; a fact which got lost under his extra-roomy clothes. Jeffery caught his eye and fought against a grin.
"Focus," he said, firmly.
"Sorry," Jordan grinned, forcing his eyes up to the shifter’s face.
Jeffery morphed fluidly, and Jordan wondered if he looked like that when he shifted. It was glorious. He rippled outward and upward, shimmering into something powerful and magnificent. Jordan had once been under the impression that all werewolves would look alike, but he'd been very wrong; he could still see Jeffery in the beast before him. The way his mane poked out wildly in all directions, the soft sadness permanently etched around his eyes, the way he held himself as if he wanted to shrink away, but refused to.
"Tackle me," Jeffery said.
"I tackled you to the ground as a human," Jordan pointed out, doubtfully.
"Caught me by surprise," Jeffery said, dismissively. "Training is different. Let's go."
Jordan shrugged, then ducked to launch himself at Jeffery's center. Jeffery spun out of the way and slammed an elbow down between Jordan's shoulder blades. Jordan dropped like a stone, but pushed himself up and whirled to face Jeffery.
"Again," Jeffery said.
Jordan lunged again, but dodged left at the last minute, catching Jeffery in the side as he moved to repeat his defense. They tumbled, unbalanced, to one side. Jeffery braced himself and used Jordan's weight against him, gaining the upper hand. Jordan found himself pinned with Jeffery's knees in his shoulders and his claws against his throat.
"Nice," he said appreciatively, commenting on Jeffery's skills and current position in a single breath.
Jeffery grinned and let him up.
"You're try
ing to fight like a werewolf," Jeffery said. "It's holding you back. I could tell when you pinned me that you had martial arts training. What happened to all that?"
Jordan pulled himself to his feet, considering the question.
"Martial arts are sort of muscle memory at this point," he said, slowly. "New muscle, new memory?"
Jeffery shook his head.
"Your various nervous systems carry the same information they always had. You're over thinking it. Stop trying to control it; let your body tell you what to do."
Jordan nodded, focusing on doing what Jeffery said.
"Now," Jeffery instructed. "Come get me."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jeffery felt a piece of himself come back to life as he rolled and sparred with Jordan. Those bits that he'd cut away in the aftermath of war; the pieces that haunted him. Flashes of memory distracted him as he fought; bones breaking beneath his hands, twisted humans screaming their dying breaths in his face. He wasn't proud of what he'd done. They told him it needed to be done, and he'd believed them. He still did. But the fact that his attacks had rarely resulted in fewer dead, in lives returned, stuck with him through the years. Each body he recovered for the allies felt like a personal failure on his part. Each survivor he rescued barely made a dent in the ratio. He had blood on his hands, decades of it, and no amount of pacificity could make up for his past deficiencies.
Jordan was hitting his rhythm. He'd recovered his human skills quickly, as they had never really left him, and he was beginning to enjoy himself. His blows came thick and fast and, with them, Jeffery's memories. Soon he'd lost track of who he was fighting and why. He was back in that thick, hot, humid jungle, surrounded on all sides by humans who had no hope of survival. He wished they would put their guns down and walk away; he wished he didn't have to do this. He reacted to the memory, taking on the biggest, baddest, member of the squad, trying to make an example out of him so the others would leave. Just let it go, he wanted to scream at them. Just walk away, for the love of God, walk away. They were shouting his name, over and over, taunting him.
"Jeffery! Fuck!"
Jeffery blinked, and the jungle melted away. He was standing over Jordan, gripping him by the throat, his arm pulled back ready to plunge his vicious claws through Jordan's eyes. Jeffery released him and stumbled backward, gasping for breath as reality slammed into him. He shook and shuddered, melted back into his human form, and stared blankly at the beast before him. The screams quieted and the images faded. It was just him and Jordan now, naked in the middle of an empty dirt lot. He felt the dirt beneath his bare feet and the breeze in his hair, then he murmured the date to himself and multiplied three by eighteen. Each bit of information wrapped around his brain like a gossamer thread of spider silk, slowly anchoring him in the present.
Jordan stepped toward him slowly as he melted back into his human form. He came close, nearly close enough to touch, but kept his distance. Jeffery was drawn to Jordan's eyes in spite of himself. He knew that it would be painful; that looking into the unshielded reaction to his insanity would hurt. But he desperately needed to know; he needed to know how Jordan felt, how harshly he was judging him, how scared he was. He lifted his eyes slowly, drifting over Jordan's broad chest and strong shoulders, his neck and his angular jaw. His heart beat hard and painfully as he rose over the ridge of Jordan's cheekbones to meet his eyes.
"Hey," Jordan said, softly. "Welcome back."
Jeffery looked for it. The judgement, the fear, the annoyance; but he couldn't find it. Jordan's eyes were limpid green pools, warm and soft and caring. He was completely open; utterly neutral. He was safe. Jeffery reached an aching arm out to touch Jordan's face. He needed to know that it was real; that he wasn't dreaming the acceptance he felt. Jordan let him touch him. He didn't grab his hand or lean into him; didn't put any pressure on the gesture whatsoever. He simply stood, peaceful and patient, as Jeffery broke through his fog and back into reality. Words couldn't express what Jeffery felt in that moment.
"Thank you," he said, knowing it wasn't nearly enough.
Jordan just smiled. There was nothing sinister in the expression. It was pure. A lump rose in Jeffery's throat, and he tried to swallow. It didn't help. Tears fell from his eyes. He didn't fight them. He couldn't with not having the energy. Jordan opened his arms slightly, inviting Jeffery in without demanding that he accept and Jeffery curled into him, breathing his scent in, watching his tears trickle down Jordan's chest. He felt Jordan's strength ripple into him like a blood transfusion, healing all the broken bits of scar tissue that clouded Jeffery's mind.
"If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. Don't feel obligated."
Jeffery nodded, brushing his cheek against the fine, soft curls on Jordan's chest. He wanted to talk about it, but just didn't know if he could. The slightest negative reaction would kill him, and he didn't think it was possible to unburden himself of this without evoking shock and disgust. He couldn't take that; not again. There were no excuses for his actions that sounded valid in this day and age. It was a different era back then. The ugliness of humans and shifters alike was obvious and incendiary. You did what needed to be done to remove the threat. Young shifters and increasingly old humans didn't understand. They wouldn't be able to contextualize it; not really. Jordan had never been to war; any kind of war. Jeffery would have seen it if he had. He shuddered in the warm circle of Jordan's arms and wished he could find a way to express it all.
"Jeffery," Jordan said, softly.
Dread filled Jeffery's gut. Here it comes, he thought.
"Jeffery, look at me."
Jeffery did so, locking his gaze onto the burning green eyes, steeling himself for a well-meaning verbal cut.
"Whatever happened," Jordan said, gently. "Whatever you did and however many times you did it... it's okay. You don't have to tell me, and I won't think any less of you either way. I just want you to know that it doesn't matter to me. I like you. I like you just the way you are. You've had a lot more years to screw up than I have, and I've done some pretty shitty stuff in my time. I would be an idiot to think you could live through a century in this world without collecting some scars and regrets."
Jeffery was watching Jordan's face and body language as he talked. He wasn't lying even as far as sugar coating, and he wasn't making grand promises that he couldn't keep. He expressed himself in an honest, open way; the way he expressed himself to Darla. He'd said exactly what Jeffery needed to hear without knowing that Jeffery needed to hear it, without an ulterior motive. Just to say how he felt.
Jeffery closed the few inches between them and draped his arms loosely around Jordan's neck, who tipped his head forward so their foreheads touched. He curled his arms around to hang on to Jeffery's shoulders, then they swayed in the breeze, dancing without music, feeling the energy flow between them. Jeffery had fallen to pieces, and Jordan had caught him. It was a noble gesture, but Jeffery knew that Jordan wasn't interested in nobility. He simply met the need. The knowledge filled Jeffery with a grinding, powerful longing; an ache that demanded satisfaction.
In a rush of bravery, Jeffery tipped his face up until his lips met Jordan's. His body reacted out of sync with his emotions, and he floated in the in-between for a long time. Jordan didn't push and didn't try to take the embrace to new levels of intimacy; he simply gave back to Jeffery in equal measure. Pleasant, comfortable warmth trickled through Jeffery, coating his raw nerves in honey. Honey rapidly turned to fire, and Jeffery couldn't seem to get enough. He drank Jordan in, and Jordan gave without restraint, plunging into his mouth again and again, a reflection of the action they both wanted so desperately.
Their hot, slick bodies slid side by side as their hands raced over their skin, pulling each other close but not nearly close enough. Jordan was growling; a heady sound, a warning that he was coming to a point of no return. Jeffery suddenly realized how exposed they were, and began pushing Jordan toward the truck. Fumbling with the handle and groping one another, they finally
managed to get the door open and lay the passenger seat back. Jordan held Jeffery close as they inched ever closer to coupling; cradling and stimulating him all at once.
Jordan pulled back and caught his breath, gazing up into Jeffery's eyes. "I don't want to push you," he said, his voice husky and low. "I want you to be sure."
"Oh, God, I'm sure," Jeffery groaned, sliding his slick, firm ass over Jordan's thighs.
Jordan kissed him hard and popped the glove box open, groping around for the baby oil he carried out of habit. As a parent, he'd never figured out the use. As a man, he was thrilled to have kept it on hand anyway. He used it liberally, slipping his fingers deep inside Jeffery, readying him to receive his girth. Jeffery groaned and leaned back, letting Jordan have his way. It had been so long. The intimate touch was like a spark of life, waking up parts of him he thought had died. Unable to resist any longer, Jeffery pulled Jordan inside of him, riding him slowly as he waited for the wolf in Jordan to respond.
Jordan gasped, rolling his eyes back in his head. "Dear God," Jordan groaned. "What's happening?"
"You're knotting," Jeffery gasped, rolling his hips slowly as Jordan swelled and locked inside of him. "You're stuck right here until I make you come."
"Can't think of a better place to be," Jordan said, running his hands over Jeffery's milky white skin.
Their lips met and they rode the wave together, rushing to the brink of ecstasy and easing back, extending their lovemaking as long as they could. Heat pulsed at the base of Jeffery's erect manhood, and Jordan began to throb deep inside him. Their breath caught and quickened as they raced each other, rocking the truck with their eager, primal thrusts, until finally, in a whirlwind of ecstatic pleasure, they came together as one.
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