by Mac Flynn
"Almost finished," he promised. He returned to the rear of the dam and kicked the remaining logs. They fell over the front or broke completely, and the rest of the water followed its brethren down the hill. Adam came back to the edge of the empty pond and hefted himself onto the ground beside me. "How are you doing?" he asked me.
"I-I'm f-f-a-a-achoo!" The sneeze whipped my head forward and heard my neck crack under the strain. "Owie," I whimpered. Adam chuckled, and I glared at him. "Can't a g-girl suffer in p-peace?" I growled.
"I won't allow either to happen," he quipped.
My eyes grew wide when I noticed soft, fluffy fur sprout from his bare chest. There were some things that never ceased to amaze me. One was how things never fit back in the box they came in, and the other was Adam whenever he transformed into a werewolf. This time was only a partial transformation. Only the chest and some long arm hair appeared. Adam grabbed his shirt, and stuffed it over my head.
"H-hey!" I complained through a mouthful of shirt.
Adam ignored my protests and hefted me into his arms. One side of me lay against his luxurious fur and I buried my face into the warmth. "You must be kept warm or you will catch your death of cold," he warned me.
"Ah hmph," I replied.
He blinked down at me. "Pardon?"
I pulled my face out of his fur. "I said 'I guess.' Now can we go home before I turn into a fattening treat?"
He smiled. "Hold on to me."
I frowned. "Why? What are yooouuuuu!" Adam raced toward the top of the path and jumped into the abyss of air above the steep incline. I clutched onto his furry self and pressed myself against him. "Murderer! Homicidal maniac!" I screamed all the way down the hillside.
Chapter 5
We reached my cabin in less than half the time it took to get to the top of the hill. "Wait a minute," I spoke to Adam before he took me inside. I nodded at the pond. "Let me see it."
Adam carried me over to the pond and I was glad to see my trails weren't in vain. The water had returned and the frogs were snug beneath their wet mud to await the time when spring would return. "All right, time to get me out of these wet clothes."
Adam chuckled and carried me into the cabin and to my bedroom. He plopped me on the edge of the bed and walked over to the dresser. "What do you need?" he asked me.
"Privacy," I quipped as I slid my outer layer of coats off my body. What remained were my soaked clothes and the soggy nutri-gross bar in a side pocket.
"But-"
"Nope."
"Perhaps-"
"Not gonna happen."
"What if-"
I snapped my finger toward the door. "Out. Maybe later when I'm not a drowned rat we can play, but this rodent just wants some warm clothes and a warm shower."
Adam slyly grinned at me. "But perhaps you need someone to help scrub your back."
"I've got a long-necked scrubber for that, but I'll be sure to call you when it breaks," I assured him.
He bowed his head. "Very well. I'll fix you some soup at my cabin, and return in a short while."
"Sounds great, now shoo."
Adam shooed and I too my much-needed shower. It was refreshing, but my bones still ached with cold. If I ever did that again I'd become as good a barometer as old Abner. I walked out of my room and noticed a warm, cheerful fire blazing in the hearth and some warm cocoa water on the stove. I couldn't help but smile at all the sweet gestures. Maybe I should have taken him up on that offer to scrub my back. Heck, maybe I'd take him up on anything when he got back. I could use the warmth from his smooth, warm body pressed against me. How he'd make me groan as those strong hands slid along my-door?
I frowned at the door. I swear I heard someone knock. Maybe it was Mr. Woodpecker asking for a cup of sugar for the winter. I draped a quilt from the back of the couch over my shoulders and walked over to the entrance. The sound didn't repeat itself, and I peeped through the peephole. Nothing but the darkness. Night fell early this time of year and I could hardly see five yards beyond the porch.
I swung open the door and peeked my head out. My breath came out in large puffs of white air and the chill made me shiver. All the world was covered in the white of an early frost, and not a creature stirred. I shrugged and closed the door. Maybe it was just my imagination.
My imagination came knocking again, but this time the thud was really loud. I returned my eyes to the door and the point of a Bowie knife stared back at me. My eyes widened and I stumbled back into the trailing quilt. I tripped over the blanket and fell on my rear onto the hard floor. The Bowie knife stared down at me with its sharp, mocking tip. I waited for something else to happen. Maybe the Bowie knife wanted me to invite it inside for some cocoa. The Bowie knife said nothing, and nothing happened for a further two minutes.
I threw caution to the wind, shrugged off the deadly quilt, and rushed the door. I flung it open and stared out into the dark nothingness of the chilly, frosted night. It stared back as unhelpfully as the Bowie knife. I glanced at the door and saw the rest of the Bowie knife along with a note pinned to the wood by its blade. It would be rude to leave a guest out in the cold, so after a brief struggle I unpinned the Bowie knife and carried both inside. The door was securely locked and I took a seat on the couch with my pair of discoveries in my lap.
The Bowie knife was five inches long and two inches at the widest part. The handle was an ordinary brown. Nothing told me who the owner was of this lost little knife, so I turned my attention to the note. There were some words scrolled on the surface by someone who flunked out of the fifth grade. It read as thus:
Keap out of the damn if ya no any beter. If ya don't than youll regret it.
I regretted reading that note, but mostly because the terrible English made me weep for my native language. I jumped when there came another knock on the door.
"Chris?" Adam's voice called through the door.
I set aside the knife and paper and hurried to the door. I swung open the entrance and on the porch stood Adam. Tucked in one arm was a pot, and on his face was a frown. "What happened to the door?" he asked me.
I walked back to the couch and held up my discoveries. "These happened. Somebody left their calling cards just a few minutes ago."
Adam set the soup pot on the coffee table and took the note. He poured over the short, almost-illegible contents of the note. His frown deepened and returned the note to me. "This is what I feared would happen."
I held up the blade and smiled at him. "At least I got a free knife," I quipped. He didn't smile back and I plopped the Bowie knife into my lap. "All right, jokes aside, we both kind of know who did all this stuff, don't we?"
Adam nodded. "The Owens brothers."
I shrugged. "I was going to say Woody Woodpecker, but he can probably write better notes than that mess in your hands."
Adam lifted his nose to the air and cringed. "I smell skunk."
"The tell-tale signs of the Owens boys," I agreed.
"I will remain here for the night in case they should return," Adam proposed.
"All right, but no howling at the moon," I commanded.
He looked to me with a raised eyebrow. "Does none of this situation frighten or worry you?"
I shrugged. "Kind of, but having a werewolf around kind of equals the playing field. Doesn't it?"
"Perhaps," he admitted.
I blinked at him. "What does 'perhaps' mean?"
"It means I'm not sure what danger the brothers hold for either of us, and we had best be on our guards until we learn more about them and what they may be planning," he replied.
I scoffed. "What kind of danger could a couple of hillbillies hold for a werewolf?"
Adam's soft eyes looked down on me. "They could hurt you."
I blushed beneath his steady, sincere gaze. "Well, I'll be careful," I promised.
Adam slipped onto the cushion beside me and slipped his arm over the back of the couch behind me. He leaned toward me and his warm breath wafted over my face. "I can't let
anything happen to you. If someone hurt you I. . .I don't believe I could control myself."
I tried to keep a straight face as a very naughty thought came to mind. "So you'd tear someone apart just for me?" I teased.
He inched closer and my instinct to flee was overridden by the nearness of his male scent. "I would kill to protect you," he confirmed.
"I don't know about doing-"
Adam captured my lips in a searing, demanding kiss. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me against his warm, muscular chest. He enveloped me in his warmth and passion, and my lithe body responded by bending to his will. His lips meshed against mine and his hands roamed along the small of my back. I pressed my hands against him and groaned.
I whimpered when Adam pulled away. His breath came out in sharp, struggling gasps and his eyes were the color of an autumn wheat field. He ground his teeth together and turned away from me. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sorry for what? Giving me the best kiss I've ever had?" I asked him.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I. . .I believed I could control myself around you, but it seems my instincts to have and protect you are too strong. If we continue down the path we're traveling you may. . .I may bite you," he explained.
I clasped his chin in my hand and turned him so he faced me. He opened his beautiful autumn eyes and I smiled at him. "If we're going to go all the way with this then we're just going to have to accept that you might bite or scratch me. I don't want us to live our lives together stepping around each other to avoid that."
"But-" I pressed a finger against his lips.
"No buts except your cute one. If it happens then neither of us will regret it. Promise?"
"Hm mhmhss," he replied.
I laughed and took my finger off his lips. "Care to repeat that?"
He smiled. "I said 'I promise.'"
"Good, now about that kiss." I leaned forward, but Adam stood and I fell face-forward into his empty couch cushion. I sputtered into the fabric of the cover and sat up to glare at him. "What's the big idea? We had a promise. Do we need to pinky-swear over it?"
Adam chuckled. "I will keep my promise, but I also swore to protect you and I can't do that without focusing on our surroundings, and not you."
I slumped on the cushion and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'd rather have you observing me," I grumbled.
"Another time when mortal danger doesn't lurk in the shadows. For this night I will wait in the shadows in case the brothers should reappear," Adam told me.
I held the knife straight up and let the blade glisten in the overhead light. "I don't think my admirers are going to come back tonight. Maybe tomorrow or if we mess with that dam again, but probably not tonight."
"My natural instinct to protect you doesn't want to take that chance," Adam argued. He leaned down and pecked a light kiss on my forehead.
I stuck my lip at him and crossed my arms. "You're mean teasing me like that."
"It's a promise for future fun, but goodnight," he returned. He walked over to the door and opened the entrance.
A small, frosty breeze let itself in and I shuddered. "You're seriously going to spend all night out there?" I asked him.
Adam glanced over his shoulder and I saw his face was furry, but through the fuzz I could see a smile. "I will be fine. Have a good night's rest."
He shut the door behind him and I slid down the couch with my back against its back. "Dang him and his heroics ruining my fun," I grumbled.
Chapter 6
I had a fitful sleep knowing Adam was out there all night protecting me from lunatic hillbillies with a Bowie knife to grind against me. When my clock struck six I gave up on a relaxing sleep and turned on the lights to alert Adam to my waking. He strode in a minute after I switched on the living room light. His face was still covered in fur, and a thick white frost blanketed the tips of the hairs. He retracted the fur and the moisture stuck to his face, giving him a beautiful glow that he wiped off with my kitchen towel.
"Any scent of skunk?" I asked him.
He seated himself at my kitchen table and ran a hand through his fuzz. "No, nor any sign of them."
I plopped myself down in the opposite chair and raised an eyebrow. "You almost sound disappointed."
"It would have been easier to confront them on your property than to search for them out on theirs," he pointed out.
"You think that's what we need to do?" I wondered.
He gave a nod. "That, or tempt them by destroying the dam again. Unfortunately, that would still give them the advantage of knowing when their attack would take place."
"So what do you suggest we do? Break the dam again whenever they get it back up and hope we catch them sneaking down here and leaving me neighborly gifts?"
Adam shrugged. "No, I would rather like to find out where their home is and pay them a visit."
I grinned. "Good. Then we can give them back their present. It's a little too big to use as a steak knife. I'm guessing we go talk to their uncle first, right?"
"Exactly, but after a nice, warm mug of cocoa. The frost was heavier than I expected and I've grown rather soft living in the cabin," Adam admitted.
I stood and fetched him his drink. "Don't go getting pudgy on me," I teased.
A sly grin slipped onto his face. "I wouldn't mind if you were to become a plump little wife."
I returned to the table with a steaming mug. The cup was set on the table, and I set myself in his lap. He gave a little 'oomph' of surprise. "You sure you want me to gain a few more pounds?" One of his hands roamed upward toward my breast. I squealed and tried to free myself, but he grabbed my hips and held me down. "I'm ticklish!" I yelped.
"You shouldn't have told the enemy your weakness," he cooed. He slipped both his hands beneath my shirt and wiggled his fingers over my twitchy skin. I cackled and swatted his hands away. My efforts to escape meant I slipped off his jeans and onto the floor.
I scrambled away on all fours to the safety of the opposite side of the table and glared at him over the top. "That was cruel and unusual punishment. I should hit you up on the Geneva Convention," I threatened him.
"The Geneva Convention applies to humans, not werewolves," he countered.
I climbed into my chair and glared at him. "Uh-huh, and what else doesn't apply to werewolves?"
"Shaving, gym memberships, and the need to eat our vegetables," he ticked off.
"There's a lot of upsides to this cursed life," I quipped.
"It has its perks, but if you're quite done with your follishness then I suggest we eat breakfast and be started on our way to the hardware store," he advised.
My mouth dropped open. "My foolishness? What about the tickle torture?"
He stood and waved off my argument. "Merely a defensive measure, but what would you like for breakfast?"
I slumped over the table and rolled my eyes. "I'll forgive the tickle torture just because you're making breakfast. Oh, and toast and scrambled eggs."
The meal was eaten, and at seven o'clock we drove down the road. The way was slow because I foolishly insisted on driving my vehicle. A thin sheet of frost lay on the road, and I had a deathly fear of ice on roads.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather let me drive?" Adam offered.
"I got this," I growled. My eyes flickered out the window and I swear I saw a squirrel along the road pass us. "I'm just a little cautious, okay? I'd like to live to see my next paycheck." I inched us past a deep, frozen puddle and the car responded with all the dexterity of a turtle. "Maybe I need a new car," I muttered.
"I don't mind driving on such roads," Adam persisted.
"We'll get there, just give me time," I argued. Time was what I needed because it took twice as long as usual to reach the bottom of the hill. The highway was bare and I zoomed us along the smooth asphalt. We reached the hardware store at ten minutes till eight and found it already open. "Does he live here or something?" I mused.
"In the rear," Adam told me.
I snorted and followed him inside. Clemens, the owner and manager of the store, was in one of the aisles stocking the shelves. He noticed our coming and stood. "A bit early for you folks to be down here, isn't it? Those roads couldn't have been much fun with all that frost."
"I told you I was just being cautious," I whispered to Adam.
He ignored me and smiled at Clemens. "It was a little frosty, but we wanted to ask you about your nephews, the Owens brothers."
The corners of Clemens lips turned down. "Whatever they've done now I don't want any part of it, and I'm not bailing them out of jail."
Adam shook his head. "It's nothing like that. We wanted to know where they lived because Chris and I were planning on taking a long hike in the woods and didn't want to stumble on them."
Clemens snorted. "You can't stumble on them unless your sense of smell's shot to hell, which is what you might be if you find out where they're staying right now. I don't know myself, but Agnes or Abner might know. They hear all the gossip around these parts and tell everybody who'll listen, and a bunch of folks who won't."
Adam smiled and bowed his head. "Thanks, we'll go ask them."
We turned away, but Clemens' voice called us back. "And remember what I told you about shooting. Those boys shoot first and ask questions later if they remember what they were thinking to ask."
"We'll remember," Adam promised.
Adam led me outside and we walked to our respective doors. I didn't unlock the car, but instead stared at him across the roof. "You sure this is such a good idea sneaking up on a couple of trigger-happy weeders?" I asked him.
"Nothing in this trouble is a good idea, but I would still rather have the advantage of surprising them than the reversal," he replied.
