Midsummer Curse

by Megan Derr

  "We—" Ferdy managed as Brayton slid his mouth down to nibble at Ferdy's throat. "We—we have a curse and-uh—a—uh—stop that!"

  Brayton laughed, low and deep, but with a last nip drew back. "Okay, Itty-bitty. Finish your sentence."

  "We've got work to do," Ferdy said after a moment.

  "Yeah, I know," Brayton replied and dropped a brief kiss on Ferdy's nose before finally pushing away. "Let's go get rid of your curse and find that poor woman's killer." He grabbed Ferdy's hand and dragged him back to the kitchen. "So what'd we miss?" he asked, not letting go of Ferdy's hand despite Ferdy's none too subtle tugging.

  "Peter went to go examine the body they brought here," Low said. "I sent Connor and Toni to go try and ask around, even if we don't think that will result in much of anything."

  Brayton nodded. "I don't suppose she had any regular johns?"

  "I don't know," Low said. "Peter might, since she came to see him? I can go ask."

  "No rush. I'll find out from the yokels. First, though, I want food."

  Ferdy rolled his eyes. "It's on the table."

  Brayton gave the broth and bread a withering look. "That is not food." Ferdy scowled. Brayton smirked, and used his free hand to flick Ferdy's nose.

  "Stop doing that."

  "No. Let's go find me some real food, baby. Low, call if you do find out from Peter about her regular johns. I'll be in town. Got pen and paper?" He reluctantly let go of Ferdy's hand to jot down his phone number on the pad of paper Sally handed him then pulled out his own phone to punch in Low's number.

  Scowling when he saw Ferdy had shoved his hands into his pockets, Brayton settled for grabbing Ferdy's arm and dragging him to the kitchen door.

  "Oh, Brayton," Sally said, stopping him just as he was about to step out. "Welcome to Midsummer. I hope you'll like it here."

  "Ma'am," Brayton drawled, touching his forehead in lieu of tipping a hat he wasn't wearing. Outside, he finally made himself let go of Ferdy. He really wanted a damned cigarette, but his pack had been nowhere among his things, so it would have to wait. Looking around, he realized he maybe should have done this inside. Eh. Like he'd never changed outdoors before?' "Hey, Itty-bitty, need a favor."

  "What?" Ferdy asked cautiously.

  Brayton grinned and moved to where there was no way anyone on the road could see them. Then he started stripping. "Carry my stuff for me."

  Ferdy made a series of noises then, all the while trying very hard not to look at him. Brayton laughed and chucked every last scrap of clothing at him. Then he shifted and gave Ferdy a playful growl and bark.

  "I don't think I like you," Ferdy groused as he folded the clothes and bundled them neatly together, before he gathered up the items which had been in Brayton's pockets.

  That certainly wasn't true. With Kerry nowhere in sight, Ferdy was loosening up nicely. Already he was comfortable enough to say things like that, which he hadn't been just hours ago. Brayton barked again then led the way to the road and toward town.

  Ferdy sighed, joining him, clothes in one arm and held against his chest. They'd probably smell like Ferdy when Brayton put them on again later. He growled his approval of this, but Ferdy sighed again, breaking into his wandering thoughts. "I really miss things like cars and bikes," he said. "I hope we find the killer soon."

  Barking to indicate they would, damn it, Brayton rubbed up against Ferdy's legs, almost tripping him in the process.

  "Watch it!"

  Brayton only lolled his tongue in amusement and did it again.

  "Wolves," Ferdy muttered. "Nothing but puppies."

  That made Brayton growl. Just how many other wolves did Ferdy know? Just the pack? Or would he have to go start issuing threats somewhere?

  Ferdy sighed again. 'I really am sick of all this walking."

  Brayton pushed at Ferdy’s free hand, doing so until Ferdy finally caught on and kept it buried in Brayton's fur.

  "You make no sense."

  That wasn't true, even if it should be. Brayton made noises of protest and nipped playfully at Ferdy's leg in reprimand.

  "Stop that!"

  He did it again, just because he could. Ferdy rolled his eyes and tugged at Brayton's fur.

  Maybe that was why he liked Ferdy against all reason. When he wasn't all knotted up, definite spunk showed through. He wondered why Ferdy had been willing to put up with a loser like Kerry when it was obvious he could have had so much better simply for the asking—assuming asking had been required.

  But, he knew why. Ferdy himself had more or less admitted it—he got easily distracted by and lost in his work. Brayton had seen it dozens of times before with gremlins. Give them some broken bit of machinery or a mechanical puzzle, and they'd be absorbed for hours.

  Brayton still held even a gremlin couldn't stay focused on machinery if someone walked up to him, grabbed his dick, and said 'let's do something else for a bit'.

  He was, he realized, getting comfortable with the idea of Ferdy being his. Who knew?

  They continued on in uneventful silence until they drew near Ferdy's house, which they had to pass on their way into town, and the wind shifted, bringing him the scent of Kerry.

  Snarling, growling, Brayton jerked free of Ferdy and bolted off, racing toward the house, barking as he spotted Kerry in the yard.

  Kerry at least had the decency to look like he was about to wet himself. He bolted for his car and scrambled into it. Brayton stopped halfway there, realizing that somewhere in his mad dash Kerry had dropped his car keys. Amused, he picked them up in his mouth then strode to the porch. Sitting back on his haunches, he dropped the keys in front of him and gave Kerry a look that said I dare you.

  Trapped in his car and unable to go anywhere, Kerry swore loudly, colorfully, and for a very long time. Brayton chuffed in amusement and half-wished his mama was there. She'd beat the fool within an inch of his life for using such language.

  Ferdy came running up a moment later. He groaned as he took everything in. "Kerry, I said go away and stay away. Why are you here?"

  "Cause that damned fleabag has my keys," Kerry snapped. He then gave Ferdy a smile he probably thought was charming. "Anyway, I know you miss me. I told you, I'm willing to take you back so long as you're willing to make some changes."

  "You want me to stop acting like a gremlin," Ferdy said quietly. "You want me to charge everyone lots of money they don't have and I don't need."

  Kerry sneered. "You're too soft, Ferdy. That's the real reason most people can't stand you. All the spine of a jellyfish."

  Brayton growled a warning at the bastard. He really wished Ferdy would bring his clothes because he didn't want to be forced to shift and beat the bastard to death naked. Getting into fights naked was as far from fun as it was possible to get. Twice was more times than he could stand; he didn't want there to be a third.

  "I’m through discussing it, Kerry. You're the one who dumped me, so why do you keep coming back?"

  "I feel sorry you got hit with that nasty curse, babe. But I also thought it might be waking you up a bit, getting you to see past your silly bits of machinery."

  Brayton snarled and barked at that, truly livid now. They might be silly bits of machinery, lifeless pieces of metal to most of them, but to gremlins those same bits and pieces were all but alive. Anybody who cared about a gremlin would never show such contempt for something they needed like breathing.

  He really wanted to make with the chomping, but that would end in more trouble than it was worth. So Brayton settled for snapping and snarling, jingling the keys, and just generally looking like a big, bad, wolf. Even Kerry wasn't going to fuck with him, not when one good bite could kill him or worse. Only humans changed into werewolves. Everyone else… bad things happened, and they all eventually ended in death.

  "Just leave, Kerry," Ferdy said. "Just leave and stay gone, please."

  "Aw, babe, you know how much I like when you say please."

  Ferdy flinched.

  Brayton let ou
t a long series of deafening barks. No one was getting away with upsetting his mate that way. No one. Picking the keys up in his mouth, he walked over to Ferdy and dropped them at his feet. Free of that responsibility, he turned and launched himself at the car, landing on the hood, then climbing/jumping/something? up to the roof, leaning over and showing Kerry all his teeth.

  "Call off your fucking dog!" Kerry bellowed at Ferdy. Who, of all things, was actually laughing. "Asshole! Call off the damned dog, you little bitch!" Ferdy just kept laughing.

  Brayton continued to bark and snarl, more than a little pleased by Ferdy's reaction, harassing Kerry relentlessly until the dumbass finally had the sense to roll up his car windows. Barking one last time for good measure, Brayton then leapt neatly down and returned to Ferdy. He pushed himself up on his forelegs, paws on Ferdy's shoulders, and gave Ferdy a quick, sloppy lick before dropping down and backing away.

  Ferdy sputtered and cursed and shot him a look that said revenge would be had.

  They both jumped when a car abruptly started up—and before they could get themselves together, Kerry was gunning right toward them in his old Chevy. No. At Ferdy.

  Ferdy dodged right and tripped halfway to the house, but he managed to catch himself by twisting last minute, stumbling out of Kerry's path—

  —and right into Brayton's GTO.

  Brayton didn't even know what to do, what to think, as he watched Ferdy's curse wreck his car. But even as his mind recoiled in horror, he was moving toward Ferdy, far more concerned about him.

  Ferdy was in a heap on the ground, face buried in his hands, shoulders trembling.

  Kerry had stopped just short of plowing into the house and climbed out of his car, looking smug and cocky and begging for a broken nose.

  Snarling, Brayton charged toward him, shifting as he drew close and obliging. He felt nothing but satisfaction as Kerry's nose shattered beneath his fist. Then he grabbed the howling bastard and stuffed him back into his car. Yanking off Kerry's belt, he used it to attach Kerry to his steering wheel.

  That done, he went to find his clothes.

  Once he was decent, he turned—and god, it made him want to scream and hit something and cry like a girl to see his honey as nothing but a pile of junk.

  But his baby was hurt a lot more than his car, and Brayton couldn't bear that. He closed the space between them and dropped to his knees, pulling Ferdy into a tight embrace. Ferdy was trembling—shaking, really—and clearly reduced to tears. He was also muttering, but it took Brayton a moment to figure out he was spouting a litany of 'I'm sorry.'

  "Hush, baby," Brayton said. "It's okay."

  "But—" Ferdy looked up. "You—that car—"

  Brayton dropped a brief kiss on his mouth. "Baby, it's just a car. You can fix it once we break your curse, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then no worries."

  None at all, so long as he did not look at his honey, or even think about her. Poor honey. Poor baby. He was going to smash someone's face in for wrecking his car and upsetting his mate.

  Except he'd already shattered Kerry's nose. Brayton smirked at the memory, not even caring a little bit that his hand hurt. He wondered if he could get away with breaking other parts of Kerry's face. Body. He wasn't picky; any sort of breaking would suffice.

  "Come one, baby," Brayton said and dragged them both to their feet. "Get inside. I’m going to call Low about this mess, and finish dealing with him then we'll continue into town."

  When Ferdy tried to protest, Brayton kissed him—and kept doing it until Ferdy finally gave up and went inside. Brayton then pulled out his phone and dialed Low's number. "Low, Brayton. Had a minor incident here at Ferdy's—I just broke Kerry's nose. Yeah." He quickly explained all that had happened, then listened to what Low said and finally hung up.

  Shoving his phone away, he strode to where Kerry was still bitching and moaning while he made a half-assed effort to escape.

  "Hey, there, sweetheart," Brayton said cheerfully, bracing one arm on the roof of the car and bending down to look at Kerry. "You'll be staying there for a bit. Sure hope you don't need to take a piss, though you already smell like shit so I don't suppose it would make much difference."

  "Fuck you," Kerry said—or, at least, that was what it sounded like, as garbled as it was.

  Brayton just laughed. "You'd be a lousy lay, and I don't fuck douche bags anyways. But if you come near Ferdy again, goblin, I'll kill you."

  He could see from the genuine fear that flashed in Kerry's eyes for a moment that it had actually gotten through his thick head that Brayton's words were no idle threat. In the next moment, however, Kerry had forgotten all about being scared and threatened with death. "What the fuck does it matter to you what I do to that gremlin?"

  Brayton shifted, leaning into the car and as close to Kerry as he could stand to be, pleased when Kerry tried to recoil. He bared his teeth and said, "The gremlin is mine. You mess with him, you mess with me, and even a dumbass like you should know what that means."

  Kerry said nothing, but Brayton could see he'd gotten the message.

  Hopefully he'd remember it. Brayton didn't actually enjoy killing people, even if Kerry wouldn't be any loss to the world.

  Double-checking Kerry was secure, he locked the door, popped the hood then slammed the door shut. A few minutes of tinkering later, Brayton slammed the hood down, content that Kerry would be going nowhere even if he could get the fucker hotwired again. Smirking at Kerry just to piss him off, Brayton turned and finally went inside.

  He found Ferdy in his workroom, nose buried in books, manuals, and hand-written notes. All of it pertained to the Pontiac '67 GTO.

  "Baby—"

  Ferdy jumped, dropping the book he was currently reading, and looked up. He looked so stricken, Brayton really didn't know what to say or do. "I really am sorry," Ferdy said. "This stupid curse—and stupid Kerry—I—I'll fix it. I swear."

  Brayton moved across the room and sat down beside him, shoving all the books and papers out of the way, and pulled Ferdy into his lap, bundling him close. "Baby, stop worrying about the car. I know you can fix it. I told you—there ain't nothing wrong with me that you can't fix."

  "That doesn't make any sense," Ferdy protested. "It's almost midnight. You haven't been here twelve hours, and five of them you were unconscious."

  "And you stayed by my side," Brayton said. "Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?"

  "I felt bad," Ferdy said quietly, talking mostly to Brayton's chest. "Carl made you come help me, and then you had to put up with Kerry, then the wolfsbane—"

  Brayton kissed him, quick and sharp. "Now I know you're way nicer than anyone deserves, Itty-bitty, but I doubt you're that nice to everyone in town. That means it makes even less sense to fuss so much over a total stranger, and one who keeps calling you names." He winked.

  "I don't know," Ferdy said, voice still soft. "You're—different, somehow."

  Brayton made a laughing, rumbling sound, nuzzling the side of Ferdy's neck. "Yeah, different works. You're certainly not what I expected, but my nose is never wrong."

  Ferdy frowned. "Your nose?"

  "Yeah," Brayton replied and kissed Ferdy's nose.

  "I don’t follow," Ferdy said. "What does your nose say about me?"

  "That you're mine," Brayton said, voice low, serious. "Mine through and through."

  Ferdy's eyes snapped wide as the meaning of his words clicked into place. "That—that's not possible."

  Brayton grinned, suddenly very pleased with life, even if it was going to be very difficult for the foreseeable future. Cause Ferdy hadn't said no way, and he wasn't moving off Brayton's lap. In a long history of non-wolves being told they were a wolf's mate, Ferdy's reaction was practically acceptance.

  "You don't even like me," Ferdy continued.

  "I agree I never thought you'd be my type," Brayton said, "but I'm also willing to admit I was wrong. If I really didn't like you, baby, I wouldn't keep kissing you and wishing
to do a whole lot more." Ferdy looked doubtful, which Brayton supposed was fair enough. "I'm not Kerry."

  "I know," Ferdy said, and a brief, bitter laugh escaped. "Believe me, I'm well aware you're not him."

  Brayton smiled briefly. "I guess I can work with that, then. Now's not the time to work all this out, though. We need to hunt a killer down, hmm?" He grimaced. "At some point I really would like some food."

  "You have to fix it if you want to eat here and want to risk throwing up."

  Grimacing, Brayton replied, "We don't want me cooking. Guess we'll just keep waiting 'til we reach town, though at this hour…"

  "You'll be more in luck than you might think," Ferdy said, as Brayton got them both on their feet. "This is Midsummer. It's more nocturnal than not; even the humans flip to a night schedule."

  "Weirdest town I ever saw; can't believe I've never heard of it."

  Ferdy shrugged. "I hadn't either 'til I drifted through one day. Never left, obviously. I half-think Sally ensures it’s kept off the maps, publicity wise."

  Brayton snorted at the mention of Sally. "That woman is the strangest vamp I've ever met. I bet her hunter thinks she's hilarious."

  "Umm—I think she married a hunter? He's still human, though. I fixed his truck a couple of weeks ago and their lawnmower sometime last month."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Brayton asked, rolling his eyes. "Let's go." Ferdy nodded and followed him through the house. Brayton grinned as they reached the front hall. "You'll have to carry my clothes and stuff again." In reply, Ferdy rolled his eyes and abruptly turned, rifling through the hall closet a moment before withdrawing with a soft 'aha!' and holding up a black book bag.

  "Good idea," Brayton said and tweaked his nose, snickering when Ferdy scowled.

  Before Ferdy could voice his protests, however, Brayton began to strip. It was something he did so often, even more often than people did anyway, such a normal part of being wolf, that he didn't think about it even when he had a bed partner.