A Man of Many Parts

by Edward Kendrick

  Andre stopped suddenly, almost going on point the way a setter would, while staring at a large boulder ahead of them. Jax pulled out his gun, ready to fire if necessary. “Damn, Andre,” he muttered a moment later when a pair of rabbits dashed across the path into the safety of the underbrush.

  For the next hour they explored the area, avoiding two houses that abutted Donovan’s property. Andre flushed out a couple more small critters and managed to scare a squirrel up a tree, but other than that the walk was unexciting. That disappointed Jax. He had hoped Keegan would at least show his face, if only long enough to let Jax know he had found him.

  Eventually, Andre decided enough was enough. He began tugging on the leash to let Jax know it was time to go home. Jax agreed.

  They were less than a quarter mile from the house when Andre began to growl, teeth bared, ears laid back, the fur on his hackles standing on end. Jax’s gun was in his hand seconds later.

  “Now is that any way to greet an old friend?” Keegan asked, stepping into view beside a thick oak. He smiled wickedly, his gaze raking over Jax. Then, as quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone. In his place stood a coyote, then a fox, and finally a Doberman, its stance mimicking Andre’s. It sprang, and only Jax’s quick thinking as he pulled hard on the leash kept Andre from being bitten—or worse. Jax fired at the Doberman, hitting its shoulder. The dog snarled, turned, and sped away, disappearing into the trees.

  “Stay, Andre!” Jax ordered when the dog tried to yank the leash free from Jax’s grip. “Sit!” He pointed to the ground at his feet and with great reluctance the dog did. Jax holstered his gun then knelt beside him, stroking his back. “You couldn’t catch him unless he let you. If he did, he’d kill you.”

  It was the truth and Jax knew it. Once again Keegan was playing his games and this time it would have ended in Andre’s death if he hadn’t been on the leash.

  Standing, Jax shouted, “Enough games, you bastard. I’m here. Come for me!”

  There was no answer, but then he didn’t expect one.

  With Andre grudgingly walking beside him, because he obviously wanted to find the Doberman, they returned to the house. Donovan stood on the porch, holding a shotgun.

  “I heard a shot. Are you all right? He missed, I hope.”

  “That was me, and I hit him,” Jax replied. “He ran before I could get off another shot.”

  Donovan frowned. “You carry a gun?”

  “A precaution when I travel since I sometimes do as you suggested with the atlas and bring a book back to my shop rather than working on it on-site. Given what’s happening at the moment, I decided to take it with me while I was walking Andre.”

  “I’d say it’s a good thing you did,” Donovan replied. “Do you think he’ll be back?”

  “I have no doubt of it. If Andre hadn’t warned me he was around and then distracted him…” Jax patted the dog’s head.

  Donovan did the same before asking, “Are you still planning on going out to dinner with Noel?”

  Jax nodded. “It should be safe enough. I doubt the bastard will try anything more today. He’s got a wound he has to take care of.” The truth, but not all of it. Jax was aware that Keegan would heal quickly, being what he was. The same held true for him, although he hoped to hell he wouldn’t have to prove it anytime soon. Explaining why to Donovan and Noel…It won’t happen. I’d leave before I had to do that. There’s no way I could let them know the reason behind my fast healing without telling them what I am and who’s really after me—and that wouldn’t be safe for them, or for me.

  “I can drive you to the shelter,” Donovan offered. “Just in case you’re wrong.”

  “You could, if I didn’t have a car, but I do. I’ll be fine.” Jax decided discretion was the watchword. His going to Noel’s for dinner, instead of their going out, might give Donovan the idea there was something more than friendship between them. He’d be wrong, but Jax suspected it wouldn’t keep Donovan from coming up with more work for him to keep him around. Donovan was, Jax thought, a true romantic.

  * * * *

  Jax parked in the driveway beside Noel’s small house then sat for a long moment, scanning the area. There was no sign of Keegan or any of the animals he could become, but Jax wasn’t taking any chances, especially since he’d left his gun back at the house. While Donovan had accepted his excuse for why he’d had it with him, he didn’t want to have to go through it again with Noel. Let’s hope that wasn’t a big mistake. He didn’t believe it would be. Keegan may be crazy, but still he should be wary about trying to attack me with both Noel and Andre around. I would be if I were him.

  “Heel,” he said when he and Andre got out of the car. They crossed the lawn to the front door and, with no doorbell in sight, Jax knocked.

  “You made it, and right on time,” Noel said in greeting, letting them inside.

  “Punctuality is me, when I’m anticipating a pleasant dinner with an interesting man,” Jax replied, hoping he wasn’t pouring it on too thick. He looked around what was obviously a living-dining room combination. There was a sofa facing a TV on a low bookshelf, a table set for two in one corner, and another, taller bookshelf between the windows facing the street. He could see the kitchen through an arch on the left side of the room. A staircase to the right went up to the second floor where, he presumed, there was at least one bedroom and the bathroom. “Compact, but nice,” he said.

  “It’s got all I need,” Noel replied, sounding defensive. “Dinner’s almost ready.” He reached down to pat Andre’s head. “I even have something for you.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Jax chuckled, following Noel into the kitchen with the dog right behind them. He told Andre to relax when he realized he was still heeling. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked Noel.

  “Not really. It’s a one-dish dinner.” He took a covered skillet off the stove, putting the contents on top of rice noodles in a large bowl sitting on the counter. “Singapore Curried Shrimp. I hope you like it.”

  “If it tastes as good as it smells, I know I will.”

  “If you’ll put the bowl on the table,” Noel said, “I’ll feed the beast and pour our tea, unless you’d like a beer, instead.”

  “Tea is fine,” Jax replied, picking up the bowl. He set it on the table in the main room and was about to check out the bookshelves to see what sort of literature Noel liked when he appeared with cups of tea that he put beside their places.

  “Take as much as you want,” Noel said when they were seated, sliding the bowl to Jax. “There’s more than enough for both of us.”

  Jax did, and once he’d tasted it he said, “This is much better than anything we’d have gotten at the restaurant.”

  “Thanks,” Noel replied, smiling with pleasure. “I like trying new things.”

  “If this is a sample, you have another career if you decide to quit working at the shelter.”

  “Not likely. I mean leaving the shelter. I love what I do there.”

  “I gathered that. Donovan’s lucky to have found both of you.”

  There was an awkward silence at that point which they filled by eating.

  Accepting his invitation might not have been my best idea. We have nothing in common, and we’ve already talked about our lives at dinner a couple of days ago. This could be a long, silent evening.

  He glanced over to see Noel looking at him with more than a little interest in his gaze. If I don’t miss my guess, what he’s thinking at the moment involves moving beyond friends spending a pleasant evening together. Or is it wishful thinking on my part? What would happen if we did? We’ve both said we wouldn’t because I’ll be leaving soon, and he made it pretty clear he’s not into one-night stands. Still…

  He met Noel’s gaze and smiled. For a second, it seemed as if Noel would turn away. Then, he smiled back, his glance going to the stairs as he lifted an eyebrow in question.

  * * * *

  What the hell am I doing? Noel swallowed hard. This isn’t me.
I don’t invite a man I barely know to go to bed with me. I don’t! We already said we weren’t going to…to act on what we’re feeling, which are probably caused by the fact that we’re horny and nothing more. I bet he screws anyone who might be interested. Which, he had to admit, didn’t bother him as much as it should have. It had been a long time since he’d had a man in his life—by his own choice.

  “We should probably clear the table, first,” Jackson said, standing. “Otherwise Andre will have a field day cleaning up the leftovers.”

  And it’s done. Noel nodded and started to gather the dishes.

  Jackson got the serving bowl, which was still a quarter full, setting it on the kitchen counter. “Does this have a cover?”

  Noel pointed to a cupboard before he began washing the dishes, hyper aware of the man standing close to him. He managed a laugh, saying, when Andre whined pitifully as Jackson put the bowl in the fridge, “You already ate enough to feed two of you, dog.”

  “And then some,” Jackson agreed as he pointed the floor saying, “Stay.”

  Andre gave him a woebegone look but did as he’d been told, lying down beside the food bowls with his head on his paws.

  Feeling very nervous, Noel walked into the living room. His hands were shaking so he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then jumped when Jackson gripped his shoulder.

  Turning Noel to face him, he said quietly, “We don’t have to do this.”

  “True, but I want to, if you do. It will be better than wondering what could have been, if I hadn’t chickened out.”

  Jackson nodded. “I agree. Wondering sucks.” He took Noel’s hand, holding it as they walked upstairs.

  “Afraid I’ll run?” Noel asked with a small grin.

  “Maybe? You’re very nervous right now.” Jackson paused, looking at the doors along the hallway.

  “This one.” Noel opened it, stepping into his bedroom.

  Jackson came in, shut the door, then closed the distance between them and began to unbutton Noel’s shirt. As he did, his fingers brushed Noel’s chest, sending a shiver of need through him. He eased the shirt off Noel’s shoulders and it fell to the floor.

  “My turn,” Noel said as he quickly unbuttoned Jackson’s shirt. When he finished, he ran his hands over his chest, feeling the muscles tighten under his touch. He lifted his hand to trace the line of Jackson’s jaw with his knuckles, wondering whether he would be upset if he kissed him.

  He didn’t get a chance to find out. The air seemed to shimmer momentarily before a man appeared in the center of the room. He held a pistol in one hand, a lethal-looking knife in the other.

  Noel knew instantly what he was, and that he was the one who was after Jackson. Despite his fear, he turned to Jackson, saying, “You lied to us.”

  “I had no choice,” Jackson replied while moving away from Noel, his gaze locked on the man. “You could have chosen a better time, Keegan,” he said scathingly.

  “Aww, did I interrupt something?” Keegan asked, grinning wickedly as he studied Noel. “Tell me, boy, does Jax know what you are? Do you know what he is?”

  “What you are?” Jackson, or Jax as Keegan had called him, stared at Noel in shock.

  Keegan laughed. “How delicious. The metamorph has found himself a cat to play with and he didn’t even know it. Too bad it ends here.”

  “Your fight is with me, Keegan. Leave him out of it,” Jax growled.

  “Fight? I don’t intend to fight you, I never did. I intend to eliminate you. An abomination like you has no right to live.” Keegan waved his pistol between Jax and Noel. “Which one first? Your lover, Jax. Will that sadden you, or is he just another plaything to you?”

  “If I’m an abomination, what are you?” Jax replied, easing farther away from Noel until Keegan had to make a choice on which of them to watch. “Most people, most humans, believe shifters of any kind are creatures who should be killed on sight. Or they would, if they knew you existed.”

  Keep him talking. Noel was moving as well, inch by inch, to get behind Keegan.

  “At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not,” Keegan sneered. “How many people have you been in your long life, Jax? How many people did you take advantage of because they thought you were someone you’re not? How many crimes have you committed, looking nothing like you do now?”

  “How many have you murdered,” Jax retorted, “when you took the form of a wolf or a coyote to hunt them because you like to kill? At least I don’t have any deaths on my conscience.”

  “It’s what we do,” Keegan replied. “Ask your little panther. He knows the joy of the kill, I’m sure. Don’t you?” He spun around and fired, but Noel wasn’t there. Or rather, he was, but as a panther, so the shot went over his head.

  In the same instant, Jax morphed, becoming a huge, muscular man. His eyes flared with anger as he brought one large fist down on Keegan’s gun arm. Noel took advantage of that to leap, locking his jaws on Keegan’s shoulder.

  Keegan screamed in agony—and shifted. A wolf stood in his place, saliva dripping as he bared his teeth in a feral snarl, and Noel lost his grip on the wolf’s shoulder. Keegan lashed out with one paw, the claws ripping into Jax’s thigh.

  Jax clenched his jaw, obviously fighting the pain as he bent to pick up Keegan’s fallen knife. Noel struck again, clamping his jaws on Keegan’s foreleg. Keegan retaliated, raking Noel’s shoulder with his fangs.

  Lifting the knife, Jax plunged it into the wolf’s throat, pulled it out, and slashed it across his neck, almost severing his head from his body. Blood spurted, the smell of it and death filling Noel’s nostrils.

  Chapter 9

  “You guys made a hell of a mess,” Susan said from the doorway, shaking her head. Andre stood beside her, blood congealing on the fur surrounding a wound on his head but otherwise apparently all right as far as Noel could see. She didn’t seem in the least surprised to see a huge stranger with a bloody knife in his hand collapse on the bed. “You might want to shift—both of you, because I’m presuming you—” she pointed at Jax, “—are normally the man I know as Jackson. I want see how much damage I have to take care of.”

  She came into the room, setting a first aid kit that Noel recognized as the one from his kitchen on the dresser. Then she took the blanket folded at the foot of the bed, tossing over the bloody remains of the dead wolf.

  Both men shifted. Jax asked, “How the hell did you know?” between gritted teeth while his hands covered the wounds in his thigh.

  “If you mean that there was something wrong, it’s because of what we are and that we’re siblings, to boot. We can sense when one of us is in trouble. It’s a family thing. Move your hands so I can take a look.” When he did, she asked, “How fast do you heal?”

  “Not as fast as Noel probably does, but…” He shot a hard look at Noel. “You might have warned me.”

  “Did you tell him what you are?” Susan asked tightly as she turned to look at her brother’s shoulder. “Nasty, but getting better by the minute. I should have told you to stay in your panther form for a while longer.”

  “Of course I didn’t,” Jax replied, looking away from both of them. “You wouldn’t have believed me if I had…or so I thought until a few moments ago.”

  “I’m fine,” Noel replied, sitting on the edge of the bed beside the man he now knew was named Jax. “Take care of him.”

  Susan did, cutting off the leg of Jax’s jeans so she could clean the deep gashes, apply antibiotic cream—“Although you probably don’t need it”—and bandage them. “You’ll live to fight another day,” she said when she finished. “Now, who the hell was that?” She gestured toward the heap under the blanket.

  “His name is Keegan,” Jax replied. “He’s been searching for me for longer than I like to think about.”

  “He called you Jax. Is that you’re real name or another alias?” Noel asked.

  “My real name,” Jax replied, stopping long enough to pet Andre who had jumped up to lay his head
on Jax’s chest. “Jax Martel. Just Jax. It’s not a nickname, although I suppose it could be one for Jackson.”

  “Do you, umm, look the same when you’re Jax as you do now as Jackson?” Noel wanted to know.

  “Yes. This,” Jax swept his hand down his body, “is the real me.” He smiled wryly. “When you said you sensed two parts to me, you nailed it, although obviously I couldn’t tell you that you had.”

  “Any more than I could have told you there’s more to me than you thought,” Noel replied. “Especially since I thought you were a human.”

  Jax shrugged. “True, so we both had secrets we weren’t about to reveal. I am human. Just…different.”

  “I’ve heard about people like you, although from what I know there are very few of them,” Susan said. “You’re called metamorphs and you can change to look like any person you want to. That could be fun.”

  “It has its moments,” Jax agreed dryly.

  Noel closed his eyes, trying to remember something Keegan had said in the midst of everything that had happened. Opening them, he asked, “Are you a criminal? Do you use your ability to…I don’t know, rob banks, steal things, or worse, by becoming someone else?”

  Jax hesitated before replying. “I owe you an honest answer, because without you I might be dead. Am I a criminal? Some people would say so. I have contacts who let me know when crooks, thieves primarily, are going to do something. I use my ability to take the place of one of the gang members, or I’m introduced to the guy planning the theft as someone who can help him out.” He eased up to sit, his back against the headboard. “I find it amusing to double-cross them, walking away with the goods while making certain they’re caught.”

  Noel considered what he was saying. “So far, that doesn’t sound so bad, as long as you return whatever was stolen. You are making certain some bad men are arrested and put away.”

  * * * *

  “Well…you see…” Jax ran a hand through his hair, not looking at Noel. “I don’t turn over the goods. I fence them, or sell them to an interested party. Half of what I make goes into an offshore account.” He smiled wryly. “For my retirement, if it ever happens. I use a quarter of my ill-gotten gains to cover my expenses, and the rest I donate anonymously to an animal shelter in whatever city I’m living in at the time.”