Tales from the Oriceran Universe: Fans Write For The Fans: Volume 1 (Oriceran Fans Write For the Fans)

by Michael Anderle

  Despite the state his body was in, Jason saw his chance. His tail thumped against the floor. It was a weak, half-hearted movement, but that wasn't surprising considering how he was feeling.

  Fortunately, it was enough for the woman to move closer. He could hear her heart pounding, and sweat gleamed on her forehead. She smelled of fear, but that didn't stop her from coming forward.

  "Nice wolfie." She closed the distance, touching his fur. Jason used his last bit of energy to shove his muzzle into her hand. His tongue lapped her salty skin, but instead of backing away, she froze. Then she reached to smooth the fur at the side of his face.

  She smiled. "So soft."

  He thought the woman's skin was soft, as well as delicate and feminine. If it hadn't been for the pain, he would have closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention.

  Part of his brain wondered when he'd shifted into wolf form. He couldn't remember. At some point, he must have lost control and reverted to his animal state. It dawned on him how vulnerable his people would be with him gone. He whined.

  "It's okay, baby."

  The woman's voice soothed the part of him wanting to freak out. It occurred to him that she must think he was a normal wolf; she might not even know about shifters.

  She rooted in her backpack and then used both hands to probe the area around the chain. There was an object in her hand that he couldn't see.

  A stab of pain caused him to pull back. He whined again.

  "It's going to be okay; I almost have it. You'll feel better if I can just get this off."

  She was trying to remove the chain! He put his head in her lap, causing her to fall backward with a shriek. Perhaps that had been a bit sudden. He had forgotten how he must appear to her, although she had to be crazy in the first place to be petting a wolf as if he were a poodle.

  When he stayed still, she resumed her work. Pain flared. The skin felt as if it blistered whenever the chain moved to a new patch of fur.

  There was a small click, and the chain slackened. Relief was immediate. The woman paused and started to unwind the chain slowly, trying not to hurt him.

  Jason wanted to race around and roll until it came free, but he made himself stay in the one spot. Although it seemed to be taking forever, he knew this was the fastest and safest way to remove the chain.

  Jason's ears flicked towards the door. Someone was coming; they didn't have much time.

  The woman continued her slow movements, oblivious to the danger. He wanted to tell her to hurry but could only whine. This was too frustrating.

  A male voice came from the other side of the door. "Tell me you at least searched her."

  "There wasn't time, and she snatched the bag."

  "So, you don't even know if she has the artifact with her. Come on, she's a Bailey, they're as slippery as fuck."

  There was the sound of a key being inserted into the lock and turned.

  The woman's head came up. "Shit."

  Jason stood, the rest of the chain slipping from his neck in a final flash of pain. His power didn’t return, but adrenaline started coursing through his body, giving him strength.

  The door started to open. Jason surged towards it, hitting the center and slamming it closed.

  There was a rattle as the key turned. Footsteps hurried away, the two men whispering to each other.

  "Silly boy." The woman had both hands on her hips and was glaring at the door.

  Jason shook his body. It felt good. The pain in his neck had faded to a dull ache. He extended both front paws and arched his back in a satisfying stretch.

  "Look, Wolfie, if we are going to get out of here, you need to listen. No more scaring the bad men away."

  Jason stalked towards her, vaguely aware of the intimidating sight he presented. His furry shoulders came up to her stomach and his head to her chest, and in this form, he was about three times her weight. The way she spoke suggested that she knew what he was, but he doubted it. The fear he'd seen earlier was gone.

  She didn't retreat as he moved closer. "My God, you're a big boy, aren't you?"

  He'd been right in the first place; she was crazy. Why did that make him happy?

  Chapter Four

  Stacey knew it was stupid to get in the way of any wild animal with sharp teeth, and this one was so big, it had to be a male. For the moment, she was annoyed that he had scared off those two idiots. They could be out of here by now. She didn't have time for drama, although she was glad she'd saved the wolf.

  Kemp would want to talk to her; she had something he wanted badly. That didn't matter if he didn't know she was here, though. Stacey had no choice; she had to find another way out. She glanced at her watch. Two hours and forty-five minutes until her brother was dead—unless she got there first.

  There was no time to wait for the boss to find out she was here. If she was going to find Aaron, she had to act now.

  It hadn't escaped her notice that if she hadn't upset Jez, she wouldn't have ended up trapped with His Furriness in the first place. That was beside the point. She didn't know anything about wolves, and this one had been hurt. His body was covered in burns, and those chains had been way too heavy for the animal.

  The wolf growled low in his throat. By God, he was huge. He really was a beautiful animal, with a black and grey coat that gleamed enough to make a shampoo model envious. Distinctive markings across his face made it appear as if he wore a mask, and three of those adorable paws looked as if they'd been dipped in white paint. She would be able to identify him anywhere.

  Hot breath warmed her bare arm as she studied the way his snout wrinkled when he was trying to be scary. Intellectually, she knew she should be afraid. He was a wild animal, and for all she knew, he had been chained in here to stop him from eating anyone.

  The fearlessness that overcame her from time to time was her parents' fault, God rest their souls. They had indulged her far too much, teaching her that the world was safe and nothing could hurt her. Since their death, she'd had plenty of experiences that demonstrated the dangers out there. Nevertheless, confidence was still her go-to-position in life. Anyway, this wolf's eyes were too soft to convince her that he was mean.

  "You don't have to thank me right now." She gestured to the pile of chains on the floor. "Buy me sushi at Urasawa and we'll call it even."

  She laughed at her own joke, but the wolf stopped the low growling and sat back on his haunches. He tilted his head to one side slightly as if he didn't understand. Nothing new there. She was a mystery to most men; why not wolves as well?

  "We need to get out of here, wolfie."

  In answer, his body started to contort. Limbs lengthened, and his torso elongated.

  Stacey didn't know what was happening. The fearlessness had left her; she was now staring at some sort of freak show with her heart thundering and her bladder threatening to abandon control.

  Mesmerizing, she could not tear her eyes away. His body was reshaping into a human form—a very male human form. OK, so she had been right about that. She stared at the muscular thighs and the chest with its light dusting of hair. The man-wolf rose in front of her.

  Oh, Lordy. One large gloriously naked male stood a couple of feet away. Wow, Wolfie was something. Big, and surprisingly not too hairy. Her eyes didn't know where to rest.

  She tore her gaze away and went to look out the window. Perhaps if she ignored what she'd seen, she wouldn't go mad.

  They were only on the third floor—not that it wasn't high enough for a fall to result in serious injury, but surely it'd be possible to climb down from this height. Except the double-glazed window was a sealed unit, and there was no convenient ledge to walk along. It might be possible to break the window, but it would make a lot of noise.

  Heat radiated up her back and she swung round, palming a knife. They hadn't searched her very well before throwing her in here. She had more knives than they'd had time to find.

  There really was a naked man in the room. She hadn’t imagined it, and couldn't ignor
e it. No big deal; he must be a werewolf. Did that mean he would want to eat her? If the books about vampires and werewolves were anything to go by, it could go either way. At least it explained the chains; although they didn't look like silver, there was a greenish tinge to them.

  A mini fridge was across the room. There was probably food in there that would taste better than a human. He frowned and followed her gaze.

  "I was thinking you must be hungry." She managed to get the words past a tongue that had tripled in size.

  He grinned and strolled over to the fridge, giving her a view of his perfect ass. She watched as the muscles stretched and flexed, wondering if he would mind—

  No. She had more important things to do, like find her brother. She gestured towards the bedroom. "There might be something in there you could wear."

  It was only now that she noticed the ripped clothes scattered across the floor. She'd seen them when she came in, but thought they'd been left as bedding for the wolf. That didn't seem very likely now. They must be his clothes—the ones that hadn't survived transformation into a wolf.

  Stacey tried not to look at his ass as he walked into the bedroom. Halfway there, he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a knowing wink.

  Shaking her head, she tried to get her mind back on track. She supposed they were lucky to be trapped in a luxury room as opposed to one of the budget ones. There must be a way out.

  Chapter Five

  Jason found a whole closet full of clothes. Apparently, someone was occupying this room. He wondered which bar they were hanging out at while torture and mayhem went on among their possessions.

  Unfortunately, most of the clothes were too tight. Eventually, Jason found a pair of sweat pants, which while they didn't leave much to the imagination, covered what was necessary. That might be a problem for the mouthy female next door. He generally avoided humans, but she had a sexy vibe he found appealing, and she'd helped him before she knew what he was. Who knew how she was going to react now?

  He pulled on a white t-shirt, which stretched across his chest and made him look like a serious bodybuilder. He grinned and wondered if Ms. Sexy would like it. The shoes were too small, but his running shoes usually survived a shift. They would be somewhere in the other room.

  He left the bedroom, noting with satisfaction that the woman's eyes widened and her breath hitched on his return. He should not care if she found him attractive, but he rather liked it.

  He smiled to complete the effect. "Is this less distracting?"

  She blinked rapidly. "Yeah, right. Great. Can you use your superpowers to get us out of here?"

  Unbelievable! He'd never met anyone like her. The woman had just found out that shifters were real and rather than been awed into silence, she demanded that he magic them out of trouble.

  Perhaps she mistook his silence for lack of understanding, because she said, "I know you're a werewolf and all, but I don't have much time. It'd be really cool if you had other powers."

  He raised an eyebrow. "I'm a shifter."

  "Same thing. Do you—" She frowned. "Do you have any powers?"

  "I'm a shifter, not a bloody elf."

  "Oh." She deflated, then immediately brightened. "There are elves?"

  "Forget it. I'm Jason. Who are those people?" He gestured toward the door.

  "Stacey, and you don't know?" There was a distinct note of disbelief in her voice.

  He wasn't sure why he felt the need to justify himself. "I only know what they told me. They have something I need." He grinned. "You don't look ditzy."

  “Do you think you’re the first one to comment on my name?”

  She rolled her eyes as she went to examine the hotel door. "You must be desperate." He was, but had no intention of discussing the details with a human. "I mean, some stranger offers you something in exchange for nothing, and you happily show up and let them drape you in chains."

  "It wasn't for nothing," he mumbled. "Besides, they tricked me. What about you?"

  She paused, considering how much to say. "I can't think of any reason not to tell you."

  "Generous."

  Her smile was there and gone within a second, but for a moment Jason had the sense that he'd seen the true Stacey. "I'm looking for my brother. Kemp, the guy who owns this place, offered information if I did something." She shook her head. "No, not that sort of something."

  He realized he was glowering and pulled himself together. "What then?"

  She mumbled something even his sensitive hearing didn't catch. "Never mind. The point is, there's a deadline. I only have," she glanced at her watch, "another two hours and thirty-two minutes to find him."

  It occurred to Jason that he was on a bit of a deadline himself. Tyler wouldn’t sit at home for long. He was likely to do something drastic if Jason didn't turn up soon, no matter what orders he'd left; that was the downside of encouraging people to think for themselves. He went over to the window, studying the thick glass and heavy frame.

  Her voice came from close behind. "I don't think we can get out that way."

  She was quiet for a human. They usually stumbled around, banging into things. He half-turned, wanting to keep her in sight. It was disconcerting going from wolf-vision to human. The narrowing of perspective always felt wrong for hours afterward.

  She gestured at the ceiling "I'm thinking we might be able to knock a hole in the ceiling. I mean, it’s only plasterboard."

  "Hotels are made of concrete."

  "We're on the top floor."

  He narrowed his eyes; she was right. "Umm, it's possible." He went into the other room and stood on the bed where he could easily reach the ceiling. A hollow tap confirmed it. "This will be noisy."

  She handed him a lamp. "Hold on. I'll put the TV on loud."

  "That might draw their attention."

  "It's a risk," she acknowledged.

  He waited, hefting the lamp, which was made out of metal. It should be sturdy enough for the job. It occurred to him that Stacey was smart as well as brave and pretty.

  The blare of a TV came from the next room. Not wanting to waste any time, Jason immediately started hitting the ceiling. Debris rained down, and he closed his eyes to protect them from the powdery dust.

  It was easy once he'd pushed through into the cavity above. He got both hands into the hole and pulled the plasterboard out until the gap was big enough. Dust filled the air covering his white t-shirt in streaks of black.

  "You've made quite a mess." She stood at the end of the bed with her hands on her hips.

  Although the hole was big enough, he realized there wasn't anything to grab to pull himself up. The edges wouldn't hold much weight.

  He turned his attention to Stacey. There was nothing for it; he would have to trust the human. This must be the universe's way of getting revenge for all the times he'd gotten away with driving too fast and clever stunts like jumping off high cliffs into the sea.

  Jason peered into the hole. "Come on, I'll hoist you up."

  From the doorway, a man shouted, "Stop!"

  The TV continued to blast from the other room, which must have been why Jason hadn't heard him come in.

  Chapter Six

  Stacey swung around to find Kemp and Jez a few steps away. Their faces were frozen in shocked surprise, and neither appeared to have a weapon.

  She looked over her shoulder at Jason and mouthed, "Go!" They wouldn't hurt her. Well not immediately; not while she had something Kemp wanted.

  Jason hesitated for a heartbeat, then, using the bed as a springboard, jumped. His head and upper body vanished. There must have been something for him to grab up there because the rest of his body and legs quickly disappeared through the hole.

  Jez yelled something incoherent and raced forward, pushing Stacey out of the way. She barely caught herself on the wall. In his attempt to follow, Jez jumped and grabbed the edges of the plasterboard, which broke off in his hands. He landed on the bed with more of the ceiling on top of him.

  St
acey couldn't hold back her laugh. She put both hands over her mouth and closed her eyes to block out the sight of Jez on the hotel bedspread coated in white dust and dirty insulation.

  Kemp glared at her. "What exactly were you doing with that creature?"

  She stopped laughing. She still had to find her brother, and she couldn't do it locked up. "We were trying to get out of this crappy hotel room." Stacey tried to rein in her temper before she said something that got her into more trouble. Lowering her voice, she continued, "You know I don't have much time left. I couldn't waste it lounging in here after he locked me in." She pointed at Jez, just in case Kemp didn't know what had happened.

  "Do you have the ring?"

  "Not with me. I'm not stupid enough to walk in here where you could just take it."

  Instead of the expected annoyance, Kemp nodded. "Good. Let's go."

  "You go. I don't have time for a trip."

  "You haven't got a choice." He gave her a sinister smile she bet would work well on Halloween.

  Why did she have the feeling that he wasn't talking about going to fetch the artifact? That would at least make sense. It was a small comfort that they would never find it without her. The one thing every thief knew was how to protect their own valuables, or in this case, someone else's. Stacey had no intention of keeping the ring; it wasn't to her taste. She didn't like the way it felt almost slimy. If she wasn't careful, her imagination could get carried away.

  They got into the elevator again. Jesus, it was only three floors. Just how unfit were they? Stacey's body automatically tensed when she stepped inside, but she wasn't as worried with Kemp present. Jez was the one she had to watch, since he kept darting vicious glares in her direction. She had no trouble returning them. Yes, it would be sensible to cultivate people to her side, but she didn't have the time or inclination.

  They traveled in silence to the lobby, where Jez had a word with the woman at the desk. Probably organizing for someone to clean up the mess they'd left behind.