Scintilla

by Elizabeth Noble

  Raul’s hips thrust up and down, his hand was back around Brandon’s cock moving in time with each pump. Brandon gave up his last bit of control when he felt the scratch of Raul’s thick, coarse wolf hair against his skin. Raul’s knots bulged inside Brandon and he dropped his head back onto Raul’s shoulder, eyes closed, mouth open to gulp in air.

  A hazy blue field of electrical power flowed out from Brandon and swirled around them like a slow spinning tornado. His extending charge ebbed and flowed in time with Raul’s thrusts, restricted to short jerks because of Brandon’s weight on him. Raul grunted and his arm around Brandon tensed, his fingers tightening on Brandon’s cock. Brandon felt Raul’s body tense then he howled. Hot, thick liquid filled Brandon’s ass in time with the sensation of Raul’s knots throbbing. The intensity nearly choked Brandon, making him gasp for breath.

  Pressure from Raul’s knots, combined with the pulsations of his own cock sent a steady wave of shudders through Brandon. Raul’s hand on Brandon’s cock moved faster, his thumb swiped over Brandon’s slit with each stroke. Brandon understood now where the phrase ‘come apart’ originated. When his orgasm hit, he was sure he’d shake his limbs loose.

  Eventually one of Raul’s wide hands rested on Brandon’s quivering belly, warm, sure and strong. He breathed in and out, each time more slowly than the one before. His knots softened with his cock and even that sent sparks through Brandon.

  Raul moved Brandon, easing out of him and inched away. The loss of contact was almost painful for a few seconds. Brandon heard Raul inch closer to him and he was held in a strong embrace against Raul’s chest. Brandon was so completely spent his charge dwindled away leaving his arms and legs feeling like wet noodles. Every single muscle in Brandon’s body was weak to the point that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t move. He shivered.

  “You okay?” Raul rumbled in his ear, breath warm and comforting against Brandon’s skin.

  “Hmm.” Brandon didn’t have the energy left to ask Raul the same question.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Raul moved a little more and Brandon felt a blanket being laid over him. Raul’s body was like a blast furnace. Between the heat and gentle rise and fall of Raul’s chest Brandon was lulled.

  “Need recharge,” Brandon mumbled and hoped Raul understood.

  “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  Raul’s words were the last thing Brandon focused on before he let go and drifted to sleep.

  Brandon woke up to a sky full of stars that had moved since he’d fallen asleep. When he sat up and yawned his breath crystalized in front of him, which fascinated him since they were in a desert. He was wrapped in the blanket and on the mattress.

  Alone.

  The panic that surged through him was as forceful as the most powerful charge he could produce. He tried to scramble to his feet but tangled in the blanket and landed on his ass. The sudden, sharp reminder to his earlier activities made him yelp.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?” Raul stepped out of the van and pulled the door closed. He held out a sports drink to Brandon. “Electrolytes?”

  Brandon blinked at him for a few seconds before getting the joke. He took the bottle and cracked it open, chugging half at once. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he snickered. “Thanks.”

  He took in Raul’s bare chest, loose sweatpants and socks on his feet. “Are you… did I…?”

  Raul grinned. “I had some singeing in a few sensitive places but shifting into full werewolf and a little Aloe Vera fixed that right up.” He settled cross-legged beside Brandon. “That had to have been the most amazing experience ever.”

  “We should probably skip that part with the traffickers, too,” Brandon said.

  Raul shrugged. “A little electrifying live porn would distract them.” He doubled over and woofed an ooommff when Brandon backhanded him in the gut. “But you’re right. That’s personal and intimate.” He twisted and took one of Brandon’s hands. “Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me.”

  “It’s a very personal thing, for obvious reasons. I’ve never felt I could let go like that with anyone even if I wanted to.”

  “So, you and your doctor never…” Raul made a wavy motion with his other hand in the air in front of them.

  Brandon snorted a laugh. “Oh, God, no. Used the wrong way, or with a child or an inexperienced adult it’s paramount to rape, even if there is no sex or physical contact. As you saw, you had a lot of control over my body, mind and emotions. We’re taught the very basics as children, more as a defense so it can’t be used against us. The rest is learned from books and computer simulations. You’ll have to be careful to keep the connection constant to be my anchor. It won’t take long before I’m too deep to function on my own. If needed, I think I can act the part well enough after a half minute or so without going in deep.” He paused. “That was the first time for me, too, with someone else.”

  Raul squeezed Brandon’s hand and hooked one finger of his other hand under Brandon’s chin, turning his head so he was looking directly into Raul’s eyes.

  “Brandon, you are always safe with me. No matter what happens between us in the future, I vow to you that no one will ever have that control over you unless you want them to, not while I’m around. I will always, always, protect you.”

  Brandon leaned closer and ran his fingers over Raul’s cheek. “Why do you think I was able to let go like that? I knew that already.” He tilted his head, slipping closer for a kiss. Then nearly jumped out of his skin.

  Howling, not very far away, broke the mood fast.

  Raul laughed. “Coyotes.” He nudged Brandon’s elbow, stood and stripped. “Watch this. There’s howling and then there’s howling.”

  He shifted into his full werewolf form and it was spectacular. Gleaming long white fangs, thick, dark hair, glowing copper eyes and a powerful body that was reminiscent of a human but still obviously wolf. He could move on two legs or run on all four if needed. Raul moved a few feet away and sat on his haunches. His chest expanded, muscles bulged and if Brandon wasn’t still exhausted and recharging he’d be hard as a rock. Raul thrust his long, elegant snout in the air and howled. The sound was haunting and deafening. It was one long, smooth wail followed by a few shorter bursts more like a bark then another loud, deep howl.

  The desert became still and so quiet it was eerie.

  Brandon looked all around. Nothing moved, there was not even a breeze. Raul shook himself and reverted to his human form and pulled his sweats back on. He settled beside Brandon again and rolled his shoulders.

  “There, nice and quiet to get a few more hours sleep. Being at the top of the food chain does have a few advantages,” Raul said. He yawned and stretched before flopping back on the mattress. He held one arm out to Brandon. “Gonna share that blanket?”

  Brandon smiled and eased down beside Raul, arranging the blanket over them. “I can do this,” he whispered.

  “We can do this.” Raul tugged Brandon closer and kissed his forehead.

  They were going to do this.

  Chapter 9

  El Paso, like any other large city had ugliness within its beauty. Raul had been in plenty such neighborhoods as the one they drove through now. Rundown buildings, iron bars and chain link on every window and door, everyone looking over their shoulder, desperation and a sense that people would do whatever was needed to survive. Raul wondered, what it said about him that he was capable of fitting in with such ease in an environment like this? He drove around the streets in their targeted area until they found a rundown building less than a block from where the victim baiting was taking place.

  “This building is abandoned,” Brandon said. He moved his finger away from the computer’s port and leaned forward to look out of the van’s window.

  “No building in this neighborhood is abandoned. This one simply has no owner,” Raul pointed out. He guided the van off the street and to the back of the building. There was a loading dock with the doors still i
ntact. He stopped there.

  Brandon jumped down from the van and jogged to one of the large bay doors and grabbed it for a second before Raul saw a flash. Looking back, Brandon grinned at him as the door slid open allowing Raul to guide the van through. Once inside Brandon closed the door while Raul parked and shut the engine down. Raul jumped down and left the door open.

  There were tall metal barrels a few feet away. Raul purposefully strode to one of them and gave it a kick, knocking it over, making plenty of noise. Some burnt debris rolled free and a puff of ash boiled out then floated to the floor. He went to the next one and looked inside before stripping off his jacket and shirt. Returning to the van he tossed them inside.

  “Stay inside the van,” Raul said. Brandon opened his mouth—no doubt to issue protests—but Raul wasn’t making a request. He crowded Brandon in the driver’s side door with one hand on either side of him, so he was trapped.

  “There are people in this building,” he began in a low voice. “I can smell them and hear them. They were burning fires in those barrels. We don’t know anything about them and they might be involved with the traffickers. The parts we play? Those start now. You’re my meal ticket and I control you, remember?”

  Brandon nodded. “Yeah.”

  Raul continued to stare at Brandon until he dropped his gaze to the floor. Leaning close to Brandon, Raul whispered in his ear, “Get in the van, lock the door and don’t open it unless it’s me.” He pressed the keys into Brandon’s palm and whispered, “Dealing with criminals is what I do. Trust me.”

  Brandon pulled his lower lip between his teeth and bit down before curling his fingers around the keys. “I do… trust you, that is.”

  Raul nudged Brandon into the van. “Good. If I’m not back in ten get out of here and call Tad and Janey, tell them I need help. Fahim can have them here in minutes.”

  “You know I can—”

  “Ever been in a bar fight?”

  Brandon shook his head no.

  “Elbowed another player in a game of pickup? Shoved someone?” Raul paused, and Brandon shook his head again. “Kicked a kid on the playground?”

  “No.”

  “Sometimes the best defense is being able to throw a punch.” Raul winked. “Stay in the van.” He gently closed the door before stripping off the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a pile next to the vehicle.

  It was a common misconception that werewolves looked and acted like actual wolves when transformed. Where the term werewolf even came from Raul had no idea, though he knew it was used as far back as there was written history. He’d seen photographs of cave drawings depicting werewolves and humans—magical or otherwise—jinn and any number of other types of so-called mythical or supernatural beings he interacted with daily. None of this was new.

  Raul’s body thickened, his chest became more barrel-like. Coarse hair sprouted and covered him. Since he was of Spanish descent with black hair and dark bronze skin, the fur that grew followed that color pattern and created a pleasant mix of black, deep russet and brown hairs. If he looked in a mirror he’d no doubt, see bits of gray sprinkled along his lower jaw. His face elongated to a snout and his canine teeth lengthened to formidable fangs.

  The changes to his feet and hands were equally dramatic. Fingers and toes stretched to twice their length in human form with webbing between them—werewolves were excellent swimmers—and his nails were replaced with thick, extremely sharp talons. He could run at high speeds on all fours for short distances, but it was more common and comfortable to walk on two legs. Raul freely admitted his legs strongly resembled the hind legs of a wolf, as did the bushy tail he now sported. A heavy, fur-covered penile sheath formed to protect his groin.

  If the fluctuations someone could witness were dramatic, the transformation of his senses were a hundred times more. Even in human form most werewolves had acute aural and olfactory perceptions, with a little better than average human sight. Now he saw colors in the ultraviolet range as well as the human color spectrum and heat signatures stood out like neon signs. Sounds and scents bombarded him. He experienced some vertigo for a few seconds while his brain adjusted to all the new information coming in. As a small child, he’d been taught to breathe steadily, close his eyes and count to ten slowly then open his eyes gradually over another few seconds. That technique never failed to bring everything into focus and transition the parts of his brain that processed his senses.

  Now, Raul could filter out different scents, know what they were and where they were up to a few miles’ radius. What he heard was automatically processed in much the same way. Background noise was easily ignored while voices, machines and other sounds he sought were identified and located.

  Raul prowled through the section where his van resided. There was no one else in what he recognized as a small loading dock about twenty feet square. A door hung from its top hinge and was dented to the point Raul surmised at some point someone—or something—had broken through. He followed his nose and ears to the door and slipped through and into a long hallway. Though he walked quietly there was no attempt at stealth. Most people—magical, supernatural or not—other than another werewolf, wouldn’t bother tangling with a shifted werewolf unless they were out their heads high, incredibly stupid or heavily armed with multiple automatic weapons.

  There was no evidence Raul could find via his enhanced senses of any of those factors. He did smell human bodily waste and sweat tinged with an odor he’d long ago learned was from too much alcohol and cheap cannabis. Not enough mind-altering substances to cause someone to pose a threat to Raul. He saw heat from fires, smelled singed metal and heard slight pops—the fires were probably contained in more of the metal barrels.

  Raul heard footsteps from the farthest end of the hall then the creak of a swinging door followed by the sound of liquid hitting the floor. He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes when the stringent aroma of urine curled through the air at him. Backing away, Raul moved through the door and returned to the van. If any of the squatters in this building were a threat or part of the trafficking ring there was no evidence to prove it to Raul. If they didn’t cause him and Brandon any trouble, they wouldn’t bother the building’s current residents.

  After returning to human form, Raul pulled his jeans and boots back on before rapping on the van door.

  Brandon cracked the window. “What’s the password?”

  Raul snorted a laugh. “Smartass.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it,” Brandon said.

  “Hmm.” Raul leaned his elbow against the van door. “We need to practice our control act more?”

  Raul was nearly knocked over when Brandon shoved the door open. “That one works.” He climbed down from the driver’s seat and handed Raul his shirt and jacket. “What’d you find out?”

  “I don’t think anyone using this building for shelter are human traffickers. I think they’re homeless and probably harmless. But,” Raul held up one finger. “I think we need to keep up the ruse here in case someone does decide to watch.”

  Brandon ran his hand down Raul’s side. “I like that idea, the practicing.”

  Raul sighed out a deep rumble and nuzzled Brandon’s cheek. “We need to create a little security first,” he said in a low voice.

  “And how exactly do we do that?” Brandon licked his lips and a shiver rippled through him.

  Drawing in a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Raul took a step back.

  “First we need to do something about that door.” He nodded over his shoulder to the door he’d just come through. “I have some basic tools in the van, but I don’t know if they’ll be enough.” Raul took another step away from Brandon. He needed more space between them to think more clearly.

  “The fencing and chains?” Brandon asked.

  Raul shook his head. “It folds against the side, but it’s bolted in and once opened up attached to more bolts. I don’t want to disassemble it, I’ll never get it back in the right way.” He motioned to th
e barrels. “There’s more of those inside the building if we need them. I think we can use them.”

  Brandon wandered to the middle of the loading dock and looked up. Crossing his arms in front of him he asked, “Do you suppose there’s some copper piping in the ceiling? Or anywhere here?”

  “I might have a little spool in the tool chest.”

  Brandon shook his head. “We’ll need more than that. Did I see iron rods in there?” He turned and motioned back to the van.

  “Well, yeah, half the runners I bring in I can either take down or help confine with iron. The rods don’t take up much space and are pretty decent weapons if I need one,” Raul pointed out. “Do you have an idea?”

  “We can run current through those barrels, magnetize them and create a barrier. All we have to find is enough copper.”

  Raul nodded. “I like it. I’ll get the rods, see if you can find some copper piping, but stay in this area. If we have to go into the rest of the building, we should go together.”

  To Raul’s utter surprise, Brandon didn’t argue but simply nodded. “I’ll start over there. Looks like some sort of utility junction.” He motioned to a floor-to-ceiling metal locker that extended out about four feet from the wall and was at least another four feet wide.

  Raul retrieved a half dozen of his iron rods from the van. They were three feet long and an inch in diameter. He’d had them specially made and if needed he was strong enough to bend them. Holding them in one hand, Raul used his free hand to grab one of the metal barrels and carried everything to the ruined door. The rods were deposited on top of the barrel before he carried two more over and set them in a row by the first barrel. He turned to see what Brandon was doing.