The Black Wolves of Boston (eARC)

by Wen Spencer

  "But you'll lose it if you don't?"

  "Yes." He was almost losing it now. "I---I---" Couldn't think of another answer.

  "So? Do it." Joshua let go.

  Decker had him in his arms, nuzzling into Joshua's neck, before he could stop himself. The scar from the werewolf attack was at the juncture of Joshua's shoulder and neck. It hadn't been a ragged wound of a mauling, but one bite, done with almost surgical care.

  "Hey! Hey! What are you---? Decker!" Joshua yelped as Decker's hands moved by an instinct he couldn't control.

  He could sense the power locked within the werewolf's skin. Deep as an ocean, warm, smelling of green. He wanted to wallow in it. Needed to. It was full of dappled sunshine and dark shadows and soft fur. He licked his way to Joshua's mouth and kissed him hard and drank deeply. He was vaguely aware of Joshua's fingers tangled in his hair. Decker half expected Joshua to tear his head from his shoulders, or at least rip his hair off his skull. The werewolf could; he had the strength. Instead Joshua whimpered and moaned and strained against him. Power flooded through the connection, dark and wild.

  He hoped he would be able to stop with just a sip, but his body drank until he was full. Satiated, he slumped against Joshua.

  Joshua gazed at him with full golden wolf's eyes.

  "Oh, Joshua, no," Decker whispered, fear filling him. Was the boy going to transform? Decker had never fed on a wolf before. Had he stripped away Joshua's control? The window was right there; Joshua could be in the street, killing, before Decker could even try and stop him. "Stay with me."

  Joshua blinked and his eyes returned to their human brown, but filled with confusion. "What---what the hell was that?"

  Decker laughed with relief. "I told you that you would hate it."

  Joshua stuttered for a full minute trying to make words come out before he cried, "I thought you were going to bite me! Drink my blood! That's what vampires do!"

  "I only sink to that level if I lose total control." His limbs were refusing to move. Joshua was going to hate him for this. Decker could see it on his face already. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I should have gone out yesterday. Killed something."

  "But---but---did you have to---you know---touch me?"

  Thank God he had only touched. There were worse things his body could have done once it slipped free of his control. "Life essence is strongest during sex and death." He could have killed Joshua.

  "Oh God, don't say sex." Joshua pushed him off. "I need to go shower."

  Decker laid on the plastic dropcloth, limp with magic-fed euphoria, even as Joshua crawled toward the stairs. He'd screwed up horribly. Joshua was going to hate him. Joshua might never want to see him again.

  "You could have warned me!" Joshua called back. "We could have had this conversation days ago!" He deepened his voice to mimic Decker's. "Oh by the way, you might want to keep me fed or I'll try and jump you!"

  Decker covered his mouth to keep in the laughter. But if he didn't laugh, he was going to weep his soul out. Not that either would help at this moment.

  28: Joshua

  What was that? What the freaking hell was that?

  Joshua huddled in the scalding hot water, not wanting to think, but not able to get past the echoes of something rolling through his body. When Decker had talked about power and light bulbs and the surface of the sun, it had all seemed metaphysical and stupid and relating to someone else but not him. Not him. That wasn't him.

  It was the wolf.

  But he was the wolf.

  But that wasn't him.

  He'd known that he was feeling weird around Decker. His tablet was full of stuff leaking out that he didn't want Decker to know about. That he smelled good. That smell made him want to be close to Decker. To roll. To wallow.

  And Decker had reached through Joshua and tapped something huge within him---something that he didn't even know was there. Tapped and opened the valves and poured it through him.

  And the wolf enjoyed it.

  The wolf had moaned and opened his mouth wide and thrust his hips in an effort to feel more of Decker. The wolf had raised his hands, grabbed hold of Decker's hair and pulled him closer. The wolf wanted more.

  Joshua had been merely been along for the ride.

  Decker had warned him that he would hate it. Joshua felt so stupid. He'd thought it would be painful and bloody and he had the possibility of dying---nobly protecting the lives of others---but actually dying. He'd asked that stupid question about being killed.

  And afterwards, Decker had laughed at his stupidity.

  Decker knew he'd hate it.

  Decker probably thought he was a stupid, stupid little homo kid.

  And now he was being a stupid little emo kid. Sitting in the shower, crying his eyes out.

  The water started to run cold. He didn't feel better. Cleaner.

  He turned off the water and woodenly toweled himself off.

  What was that? What had Decker tapped into? He couldn't feel it as strongly as when Decker was---was---doing that to him. But it was as if he'd been blown up like a huge balloon and now was walking around, aware of the emptiness inside of him.

  No, not empty.

  Dormant.

  A forest at dusk instead of full day.

  There had been sunlight and the smell of green.

  Was green his favorite color? Really? Had he even ever actually had to sit and think about it? No one ever asked. At least, he couldn't remember anyone ever asking him. It wasn't a question people asked boys. It was a girl thing.

  Decker thought green was Joshua's favorite because he'd bought all green shirts at Target. But for back-to-school shopping two months ago, Joshua had bought all blue shirts.

  His favorite color had been blue.

  What the hell was that?

  He went to his empty bedroom and sat on his airbed. This is my life. One big vast emptiness. No family. No friends. No future. Not even a favorite color. The wolf took everything. I have nothing.

  He felt utterly lost. He hated the feeling. He'd been happy all day. The paint had transformed the kitchen and family room that had been filled with trash just the day before. He'd been looking forward to moving on to painting his bedroom. He and Decker planned to buy a couch and TV tonight. The man hadn't seen a movie for forty years. There were so many things Joshua wanted to share with him. All the Hobbit and Lord of the Ring movies alone would take a week to get through. Decker was going to be so blown away by all the special effects.

  Was he really excited about sharing the movies with Decker? Or was it the wolf who wanted to be with the vampire?

  Oh God, he was freaking whimpering again.

  If he sat here alone until sunrise, then he would be utterly alone afterwards.

  He couldn't call his folks. Ignoring the entire werewolf issue, there was no way he was going to talk about sexual orientation with his parents. Ditto for his handful of close friends. Elise had sounded like she was too busy trying to stay alive to deal with his petty problems.

  Which meant that the only person in the world safe to talk to was downstairs.

  This was going to be so embarrassing.

  If Decker made a single freaking joke, he was going to beat the snot out of the vampire.

  * * *

  Decker sat on the floor of the kitchen, hands pressed to his face.

  Joshua stood at the door, not knowing what to say. Not that. Or that. Nor that.

  He scanned the freshly painted family room. He'd done it first in forest green. He didn't know how it made him feel. Part of him thought that the color was calming and restful. That it made the house a safe retreat from the world. He suspected, though, that was the wolf. The real Joshua probably didn't give a shit what color the walls were.

  "What was that?" Joshua finally decided was a safe thing to say. "The green?"

  "It's the source of your power." Decker's voice was ragged with emotion. The vampire sounded as if he was close to crying. "A werewolf's bite is a magical wound. It connect
s you to the pack's magic. That's why it isn't a disease that can be cured. I've never heard of anyone being able to seal off a soul once it's been opened to a power source. Trust me. I've spent hundreds of years searching for a way to free myself from my curse. If it were possible, I would have found it. The only reason I still exist is I've always been too much a coward to kill myself. It's probably why I can't keep my mouth shut; I keep hoping I'll piss the wrong person off enough that they'll put me out of my misery."

  "You really want to die?"

  "I have been very happy the last few days. To have you leave---I could not bear that. Not after remembering what it's like to be truly alive. I've been so lonely since Saul died. Please don't hate me."

  "I don't hate you," Joshua snapped. "I'm pissed. I didn't want---I'm not gay."

  "I know. I have teased you, and I'm ashamed now. It seemed harmless, since I thought nothing would ever come of it. And now those thoughtless jests poison everything. I'm sorry. I did not want to hurt you."

  "I think Joshua likes you. I know the wolf likes you a lot. Why? And how do I know when it's me and not the wolf?"

  "I don't know. My friendship with the Grigori and the hours I keep mean I rarely cross paths with werewolves. They're all early to bed and early to rise people; it's the Puritan influence on Boston."

  "Someone has to know."

  Decker sat quietly on the floor, thinking. After a minute, he said apologetically, "The royal vet."

  "The who?"

  "The prince maintains a doctor to take care of the pack. She's the royal vet. If anyone is going to know anything, it's Dr. Huff."

  "You're taking me to a vet?"

  * * *

  They took a taxi to Watertown. The offices were closed when they reached it.

  "Great," Joshua growled.

  "She's the royal vet. She'll see you, no matter what time of day it is." Decker got out and paid the taxi driver.

  "You're kidding."

  "No. The prince paid for her training and bought this building for her. She cannot refuse you."

  * * *

  The vet looked barely old enough to be a doctor, although it might have been the long pigtails, black eye shadow and lipstick. She glared at their hands, then their feet, then out at the curb.

  She scowled up at Decker. "Where's your pet?"

  Decker tilted his head slightly to indicate Joshua.

  "Oh!" She smiled brilliantly and patted Joshua on the head. "Who in the world are you? Such a little cutie! Good boy! Good boy!" She scratched him behind his ear, which felt ridiculously good. "Come on in."

  Dr. Huff led them through her living room, full of chrome and black leather, pushing aside her small pack of mismatched dogs. She had a three-legged black lab that was gray around the muzzle, a pit bull missing an eye and a little Jack Russell terrier that seemed to have springs built into its feet. By a side door, she paused to get a large cookie out of a big clear jar.

  "Here." She handed him the cookie.

  It was a very good cookie, although very savory, as if it had bacon mixed in with the sweetness.

  She took out another, broke it into three pieces. "Sit. Good boys. Stay." She tossed a piece to each dog.

  "Did you just feed me a dog biscuit?" Joshua said.

  "I bake them myself." She led the way through the side door, calling, "A hungry wolf is a dangerous wolf!"

  There was a waiting room that smelled of disinfectant with pictures of dogs and cats and various illnesses each could get. Joshua slowed down as he took in the various magazines scattered on the side table, a wall of flea and tick medication, and a poster that stated "Get your pet microchipped!"

  "W---w---wait," he cried. "You're a real vet?"

  "Of course I am. You don't think the prince would trust his family to a quack, do you? Here, take your shoes off and step on the scale."

  It was a low, wide scale meant for large dogs. Joshua eyed it for a minute before sighing and taking off his shoes. "Is this totally necessary?"

  "Yes." She noted his weight on a form. "Good boy!" She handed him another biscuit. "Now your height."

  Joshua stared at the cookie. The first one had been good. He wasn't sure he wanted to eat another now that he knew what they were. "What is in these?"

  "Things to keep werewolves happy and healthy." She nudged him toward a wall-mounted height rod. It looked identical to the one that his pediatrician used. "They're also good for dogs, but I balance them for werewolves."

  "How can everyone just look at me and know I'm a werewolf? I don't look any different!"

  She noted his height. "This job requires a degree of awareness. Psychic. Spiritual. Supernatural. Whatever you want to call it. It's why the prince chose to send me to school and not any other of the fifteen hundred applicants for his scholarship."

  She noticed that he was still staring at the biscuit. "Eggs, milk, bacon bits, maple syrup, whole wheat flour, and oats." She patted the stainless steel table. "Hop up. You radiate 'I am magic' now to anyone that can sense that kind of thing. Those of us with experience with various magical creatures can tell what kind of being you are. Good boy."

  This was because he'd eaten the cookie or scrambled up on the table or both.

  "Please don't do that." Joshua glanced at Decker and it worried him that the vampire wasn't smirking as usual. Decker was still looking freaked, which was at once unsettling and reassuring. Decker was really scared that Joshua would leave, which might mean that he was deadly serious about killing himself.

  "Sorry." She caught herself before scratching behind his ear. "It's been a few years since I had a wolf patient."

  "Why? What happened to all the wolves in Boston?" He flinched as she tapped his knees with rubber mallets. "And do you need to do that? You haven't even asked why I'm here yet."

  "You're a wolf in Boston." She took his hands and looked at the fingernails on his right hand. "You're now my patient. I need to get a baseline of what is normal for you before someone drags you in here half-dead and wanting me to treat you for God knows what. It takes a lot to bring a werewolf down, so when one comes to me, they're very messed up. Unfortunately, there is a shitload of weird stuff in Boston these days that the Grigori can't keep up with, so I want a complete workup on you. Especially if you're with him. You are Silas Decker, aren't you?"

  "I didn't realize I was known," Decker said.

  Dr. Huff snorted and switched to Joshua's left hand. "Oh, please, you've been in Boston longer than I've been alive. People talk, especially about potentially dangerous neighbors. If it makes you feel better, people are glad that Boston had a backup plan now that the shit has hit the fan."

  Joshua jerked free his hand. "What do you mean by that? 'Especially if you're with him.' What shit and what fan?"

  She stopped and stared at Joshua. "Oh. Oh dear."

  "What?" Joshua asked fearfully.

  "You---you weren't raised by wolves?" Dr. Huff said.

  "No!" He was fairly sure she meant werewolves and not literal wolves.

  "Oh my!" She glanced at Decker. "Where the hell did you find him?"

  "Back Bay Fens. Killing trees."

  "You mean the huntsman was after him?"

  Decker nodded.

  "Oh, good God!" Dr. Huff said. "Do you even know the first thing about taking care of a puppy?"

  "Hello!" Joshua cried. "I'm still here! What shit? What fan? How do you know about the huntsman? It wasn't on any newsfeed. And don't call me a puppy; I'll be eighteen in four months. I can take care of myself."

  Dr. Huff gave him two cookies. "A puppy is a werewolf under the age of eighteen. Although I suspect you're actually a newborn. Werewolf families normally isolate newborns for a month. You're a lot stronger than you think. You can kill someone if you hit too hard. You must never hit a human."

  "I know. It's why I left home. I wouldn't---hit that is. The first thing they tell you in martial arts is not to strike out in anger. Next year I would have gone to college." The hurt of that failed dream m
ade the wolf whimper. "I would have left home then."

  She huffed. "You might be able to take care of yourself if you were still human. You don't know anything, however, about werewolves. Worse, you can't go on the Internet and look it all up. Which is why you're probably here. You've got questions that Decker doesn't know the answers to, but he does know I'm an authority. Which is amazingly clever, but I suppose to live as long as Decker has, you need to be intelligent."

  "Thank you," Decker said. "I think."

  "Can you take off your shirt?" she asked Joshua.

  "What happened to the wolves in Boston?" Joshua tried to ignore Decker as he stripped off his T-shirt. At least the vampire was pretending to study a poster about heartworms. "Is that the shit you're talking about? That the prince's family was killed?"

  "Yes." She inspected the wound where the werewolf had bitten Joshua. "You were changed two or three days ago? This is a classic bite that wolves use to change their younglings to wolves. This here." She traced the arch of the bite. "Misses all major arteries. It's on the left side so the wound doesn't affect the dominant arm. Upper torso so the newborn has no difficulty walking afterwards. You were changed by someone who knew what they were doing and took a great deal of care doing it. But you don't know who, or you'd be with him, not a vampire."

  Elise was right that the werewolf must not have chosen him at random.

  "Three years ago, the Wolf King demanded that the Prince of Boston send his oldest son, Seth, to New York City to live. No explanation. The prince had to pull all of Seth's medical and school records to go with him which is how I know the nitty gritty. The prince was furious but he had no choice. Two weeks later, every wolf in Boston and half the Grigori were dead. The Grigori that survived brought me Seth's uncle, Anton Cabot. I couldn't save him."

  "What---what killed them?"

  "A large breach had been torn open down in the subway tunnels. The wolves and the Grigori managed to keep the city from being overrun but at a horrific cost. The Wolf King came with his Thanes to clean up the few that the prince and his wolves hadn't killed before dying. Since then, Boston has been a very dangerous place to live. If it weren't for the Grigori, the streets would be littered with dead."