Werewolf Me

by Amarinda Jones

  Murphy turned to look at the woman in the bed. “I love you,” he murmured. The words were soft yet Murphy meant every one of them. Truro was his woman. He had travelled the country searching for his soul mate. When William sent a message to come to Ludlum to join up with the clan, Murphy came as bid. And I found her. He wanted to take her in his arms once more and feel their bodies slide slick with sweat as he pumped inside her until she screamed his name. But Truro had been so worn out from working and fighting her feelings that Murphy let her rest.

  After they returned to her van, Murphy had gathered her into his arms and lay down under the covers beside Truro, despite her half-hearted protest.

  “Petal, I just want to hold you in my arms as we sleep.” The open-mouthed look of shock she gave him was comical. “Or we can have sex.” They were both fully clothed but for their shoes. It would take little to remove the rest.

  “Sleeping is good.” Truro had rolled onto her side to ignore him.

  Murphy had simply moved in behind her and pulled her back close against his chest. “Just relax.”

  “You make that impossible,” she had mumbled. But before long both of them were asleep.

  Murphy had enjoyed the best sleep of his life with Truro wrapped in his arms. And despite her initial hesitation, she had easily turned to him in her sleep and he had willingly given her the comfort of his body. Lying beside Truro gave Murphy a sense of calmness he had been longing for. It gave him a great feeling of peace that this lonely, wounded woman could trust him enough to surrender to him like this. While sex was one thing, the simple act of being together with no other motive but to give comfort was harder to do. He doubted Truro had allowed herself much comfort in life. William had filled him in on most of what was known of Truro’s life. It was not pleasant. Murphy vowed to try to do whatever he had to in order to make her happy for the rest of her life.

  “Murphy?”

  He smiled at the sound of concern in her sleepy voice. “Yes, petal?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh yes.” Murphy walked back to the bed and looked down at his woman. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair was a mess and she was screwing up her face squinting at him through the darkness. She is beautiful. She is mine. As much as he longed to gather Truro into his arms once more and make love to her there was no time and this was a lady that he wanted to savor. “I have to go.”

  “Why?”

  That she wanted him to stay made him almost wish he could defy his calling. “Nature calls.”

  “I have a bathroom you know.”

  Murphy chuckled and leaned down to kiss her nose. If his mouth met hers, there was no way he could walk away. “I want to go check out the wolves.”

  Truro yawned. “Oh right, that nature thingy. Well, be careful. They’re wild animals. We saw what happened to Rodney.”

  It was not the wolves. But that was not a discussion he could have with Truro yet. He needed to speak to William and Gil to find out if there was any more news on who had done the killing. “I will be careful.”

  “And it’s probably cold out there so wear a jacket,” she murmured as she rolled back onto her side.

  “You’re so sweet.” That Truro cared about him meant everything to Murphy. I am home.

  “No, not at all. Because if you die of a chill I won’t get payment for the rental.”

  Despite all the reasons he shouldn’t, Murphy leaned in once more and kissed Truro hard. “I adore you.”

  “Yeah well. Go and do whatever it is you do out there.” Truro snuggled deeper into the blankets.

  “I will show you one day soon.”

  Truro snapped one eye open. “Oh God no. I’m not wandering out in the dark to look at feral animals. Now go.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  “You better be. I need payment.”

  “You need more than that. You just have to admit it.”

  Truro grumbled under the covers. “Save me from freaking sensitive New Age men.”

  Oh yeah, life was going to be good with Truro.

  ———

  They stood in the moonlight and watched the transformation of man to wolf.

  Tavernier was horrified. “That is the most fucking grotesque thing I have ever seen. Do you think these women realize who they are sleeping with?”

  “They wouldn’t care. People in love only see beauty in their lover.” Absolon once knew that feeling. That was before William took away any chance of happiness he had and left him with the bitter, driving need for revenge. I am an old man but I am not useless. William will pay. I have waited years for retribution. “We can use this caravan park woman.” By herself she was nothing special but she did have one use. She would be protected by the clan from now on. She could be used as leverage to get what he wanted.

  “Her? How? She’s no better than the Scott woman—actually she is less so for she has no power.”

  “Oh, but she does.” But Absolon wasn’t about to let this man know any more than he needed to. The woman called Simpson was a friend of William’s woman. Added to that, the Irishman was more powerful than Absolon initially thought. That had taken him unawares. He was so focused on the Destroyer’s descendant and the probability of Montague trying to mate with Joan Scott that he had almost not seen the Irishman was the next leader of the clan. The Simpson woman was the wild card. The lowly van park employee had more power than he suspected. Absolon could see the Irishman taking William’s place when he passed. Not even a werewolf lived forever. The Irishman loved this woman. That weakened him. Weaken the clan and their attack is not as strong. I will win this last round, William.

  “What now?” Tavernier looked at his employer in confusion.

  It was so hard working with someone who had no imagination. “We stir up trouble.”

  “How?”

  “The townspeople are worried about the wolves. We give them something to really worry about.” Before Tavernier had time to react, Absolon reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out a long-bladed, rake-like weapon that had five razor-sharp prongs. He slashed the blades at Tavernier tearing through clothes and flesh. Blood spurted through the deep cuts in his arms and chest as he tried to defend himself.

  Tavernier fell to the ground bleeding profusely. “What are you doing? Are you mad?”

  Absolon looked down at his handiwork. It was just enough not to raise suspicion but sufficiently gory to horrify the locals as he dragged his colleague back into town. “You’ve been attacked by a wolf. I think the locals need to go hunting.”

  Chapter Four

  “Bess!” Truro was amazed to see the older woman. Her last visit down from the mountains had been almost four months ago. “How are you?” Truro constantly wondered how this seventy-year-old woman managed to look as fit and as spry as she did. She lived in a remote location alone. To Truro’s knowledge she had no help at all and yet Bess seemed none the worse for any of it. In fact she looked pretty good in her faded jeans and flannelette shirt. The only sign of her age was the curly gray hair she had bundled up on the top of her head.

  “I’ve come to see how you are.” Bess dumped her backpack on the ground at her feet.

  That was typical of Bess. She was always caring for others. “Oh, muddling along.” I am having amazing sex with a hunk of man and can’t stop thinking about him—but other than that just swell. Like Bess would want to know that. “Wanna check the books?” Truro asked, hoping she would say no as she always did. Truro was a terrible record keeper. While she made sure everyone paid on time and followed the caravan park rules, she was lax in recording the details. The most she managed each couple of days was filling out a bank deposit slip and banking the money in Bess’ account.

  “No, I’m sure you’re doing a good job.” Bess moved over and sat down on one of the split post-and-rail beams that were fashioned to make a seat. “I want to talk to you.”

  Truro felt a sudden shiver shoot down her spine. “Oh yeah?” She crossed her legs and sat down in one fl
uid move on the grass beside Bess.

  “It’s about the wolves.”

  “Yeah—what is it with them? They seem louder and closer this year.” Not that it scared Truro. She just couldn’t fathom why she was more aware of them this year than in the past.

  Bess nodded her head in confirmation. “They are closer but there’s no need to be frightened. They won’t harm anyone.”

  “They’re wild animals, Bess.” As an ex-city girl, Truro was no expert on anything with four legs. But anything that had a mind of its own and could not be controlled was something to be wary of. “Rodney was killed by one.”

  “Yes, they are—but they’re not.” The older woman’s eyes were intense and bright. “And something else killed Rodney. Most likely his own greedy and ignorant heart.”

  “O-kay.” There were times with Truro wondered if Gil and Bess were related. Each had the ability to look at you as if searching your soul.

  “What was he even doing in Ludlum?” Bess looked at her with concern.

  “Well, he’s probably between girlfriends and looking for a warm body to slide into.” He would be damn wrong it he thought it would have been me. If he had even suggested it to her, Truro may just have tried taking him out herself. She looked at the older woman with interest. “It’s not that I’m not glad to see you, Bess, but I’m wondering what’s going on.” She had the look of a woman who had something on her mind.

  “I want to tell you something but I want you to remain open-minded, my dear.”

  To Truro’s way of thinking that was never a good way to start a discussion. It usually meant it was going to be something she didn’t want to hear. “I always am, Bess.”

  “Yes.” The older woman nodded her gaze shrewd on Truro. “But this will test you. Tell me, what do you know about werewolves?”

  Whatever Truro thought Bess was going to say it hadn’t been that. “Um—well, only what I see in late night television when I can’t sleep. They hang out with Dracula and Frankenstein. They are generally in need of a shave and they tend to terrorize people. I think it’s because of the no shaving thing. Stubble rash can be a killer.” Truro knew. Her skin was red and blotchy from the ardent kisses Murphy had placed on her body. Just thinking of him made her wet.

  Bess snorted in derision. ”That’s Hollywood. I mean real werewolves.”

  Real werewolves? Wow. Bess needs to come into town more. “Well gee, Bess, I can’t say I’ve met one. Have you?” That would be something. Werewolves in Ludlum. That would set the town on its ear. It would be bigger than when someone who looked like George Clooney passed through town driving a cattle truck.

  “Yes.”

  Right. The word “dementia” shot into Truro’s mind. Maybe Bess being alone in the woods wasn’t a good thing. Although Bess had always appeared capable to Truro, she was now beginning to wonder about the state of the older woman’s mind. It had to be lonely at the old homestead. Truro had only been there twice at Bess’ invitation. Each time she knew in her heart she was a city girl and that scenery belonged on postcards. “Bess, I think maybe you should move back in here with me.” Although Truro had no family of her own, she considered Bess to be the closest to that she had. Besides, she wanted to help the woman who had given her a job and a home and a new start in life. Truro owed Bess that.

  The older woman reached down and gripped Truro’s shoulder. “It’s important you listen to me, Tru. What I’m about to say effects your destiny.”

  For a woman Truro had been worrying about getting older and more fragile, Bess had a powerful grip on her shoulder. “My destiny?” Truro rarely thought beyond what to eat for dinner. Destiny sounded ominous and like it needed planning. Truro didn’t plan. She stumbled and fell into things and made out as best as she could.

  “Yes, your destiny.” Bess’ gaze never left hers. “The stranger who has come to you. Tell me about him.”

  While Truro knew that gossip was an art form in Ludlum, Bess didn’t strike her as being an advocate of it. Besides, Truro doubted anyone had seen her with Murphy. Though there was that meeting at the diner and the moment yesterday in the van. Hmmm. “We get lots of strangers staying at the van park, Bess. You know that.” Truro decided it was best to act vague until she knew more about what Bess knew. Besides the caravan park was halfway between Brisbane and the whale watching tourist spot of Hervey Bay. People often stayed over in transit. Bess could be talking about anyone.

  “The one who has touched you, Tru.”

  Okay, well that narrowed the field down to Murphy.

  “Well Bess, the thing is—” Truro wasn’t about to explain her sex life to anyone. However, she didn’t want to hurt her friend.

  “’Not just your body but your heart.”

  “I don’t have one of those.” That was Truro’s usual response. It was the line of defense she hid behind. If you believed something enough then eventually it made it true. Besides, hearts got you in trouble. It was better not to acknowledge one.

  “Don’t be flippant,” Bess snapped in irritation. “Look girl, I know what you think. I used to be like you. I hid from that which I did not want to feel.”

  This was unusual. Bess never got irritated. Added to that, while they talked, neither had ventured too deeply into personal territory. Sure, Bess knew vague details on Truro’s life but not enough to make it awkward for Truro. To her, pity was pitiful at the best of times. “Bess, I—”

  “Why did you come to Ludlum?”

  Truro looked up at Bess. “You know why. I ran out of money and the car broke down.” The fruit-picking season was over so Ludlum seemed as good a place as any. When Bess offered her the job it seemed crazy to turn it down. Truro had a car to repair and some cash to bankroll until she made a decision where to head next.

  “It’s been two years, Tru. Why did you stay?”

  “I—” Truro stopped and thought about that. There was no answer that came instantly to mind. Her car was fixed and she had stashed some money aside for emergencies. So why am I still here? It was hardly her scene. A small town surrounded by bush. Sure fruit picking was located in the country but she never stayed in any one small town for any length of time. Normally as soon as the season ended she went back to Brisbane and worked as a waitress or bartender. Had it really been two years? It was the longest she had stayed anywhere. The time seemed to go so fast. “I really don’t know.” The sudden lonely sound of a wolf caught and held in the air. A shiver ran up Truro’s spine. Wolves. Werewolves. Truro was not a great believer in coincidence. “I’ve never heard them during the day.”

  “There is a reason you are meant to be here now at this time.”

  Truro shook herself. Maybe this was a wake up call. Maybe it was time to move on. “Are you okay?” Bess would be only person she would really miss. Her mind went to Murphy. It wasn’t like he was going to say around anyway. Falling for someone just passing through was madness.

  “Yes, but I need you to focus, Tru.” She patted the seat beside her and beckoned Truro to join her. “I know what you’re thinking. You think I’ve lost my marbles.”

  Truro sat beside her old friend. “Well, that would, of course, be rude to say.”

  “But you think it.” Bess smiled. “I always liked you, Tru. From the minute I saw you I knew you belonged in Ludlum.”

  “I was kicking my car’s tires and swearing when you saw me.”

  “But you did it with passion.”

  Yep, give me something to kick and I will kick the crap out of it. “So what’s going on, Bess? You rarely make a trip into town.” It had to be something important.

  Bess reached over and took her hand. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “Um, no. Stuff just happens and you go with it.”

  “Soul mates?”

  “Greeting card philosophy to make people search pathetically for ‘the one’? That would be another no.” Yet, as she thought it Murphy’s face instantly sprang into Truro’s mind.

  Bess shook her head in mock rep
roach. “You’re not as cynical and tough as you make out, you know.”

  “You know if you tell anyone that I’ll have to kill you.” Like most people, Truro had developed a shell-like layer that kept her safe from being hurt. It was not something she was about to abandon any time soon. And yes, some people like Bess, and now Murphy, could see through it but her private, deepest thoughts remained her own. “So, you have something to tell me.”

  “It’s about the wolves.”

  “And werewolves apparently.” Truro grinned at her friend. It was not everyday that someone mentioned that particular creature. “You haven’t been mixing up your blue pills with your orange pills again, have you?”

  “I know what you’re thinking. It’s what I thought fifty years ago when I was told the truth.”

  “The truth?” Again Truro heard the cry of the wolf. “Do you have them trained to do that on cue?” The small, secretive smile Bess gave her raised the hair on the back of her neck. “Bess?” Lordy, she wasn’t playing with wolves as pets, was she?

  “About the werewolves—and don’t look at me like I’m mad—they exist. Do you ever wonder why I live so far out of town?”

  “Well I just figured you were—”

  “Crazy?” Bess laughed yet her eyes were clear and focused as she looked at the younger woman. “In some ways I am.”

  “No, I was going to say you had your reasons and I don’t believe in questioning what other people do.”

  “But you question what you do?”

  “Well, I do some very dumb things.” Like have sex with Murphy. Like falling in love with Murphy. While it was excellent, it did not smack of longevity. Not that I’m looking for happily ever after.

  “Would you like to stop tying yourself in knots like that?” Bess’ eyes were shrewd on hers. “Do you want to be at peace?”

  This was starting to get too deep and meaningful for Truro. “You’ve not come to sell me something out of a catalogue or something to bring order into my life? You haven’t been taken in by a plastic container or make-up cult and now you want me to become one of you?” Truro had sold some of that stuff door-to-door for about an hour until one person told her it was a load of crap and she had to agree.