“Is that about average?”
“Do you want me to go back and recount every funeral I’ve been to since I was ten?”
“Could you do that?”
* * *
Michael
* * *
From the look she was giving him, he realised he’d probably said the wrong thing. And, in hindsight, maybe deaths weren’t the best place to start his fact finding. Turning it on its head, he tried for a more positive slant.
“How about births? Do you know how many wolves have been born in the last year?”
‘You know that we’re not born wolves?’
“I didn’t mean —”
“We are actually human. Human beings. Human babies.”
As Michael watched Freya’s mood go from cold to sub-zero, his temperature was on a definite increase.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me things instead?”
“Tell you things like what?”
“Like whatever you want. What’s it like to be a werewolf? What’s it like to be in a pack. What it was like the first time you changed.”
“That one’s not hard. It’s horrific.”
He jumped at the first piece of actual information.
“Really? Why?”
“Did you think having every bone in your body broken, rearranged and reset, along with the manoeuvring of your internal organs, while wire-thick hair sprouts from each follicle on your body, would be a pleasant experience?”
“I’ll be honest, I’d not really thought of it like that before.”
“That much is obvious.”
A sudden sense of guilt shifted through him. The last few weeks, he had been so busy trying to find information on the wolves, that he hadn’t really stopped to consider the fact that they were people too.
“So, is it like that now?” he asked hesitantly. “Does it still hurt like that every time you change?”
Her shoulders lifted and dropped in a half shrug.
“Not anymore, not once you’ve got control of it.”
Control was something he hadn’t thought of either. He scribbled another line in his notebook.
“So, you didn’t always have control of it? How do you learn? How long does that take?”
His pen was poised, ready for the answer although, instead of replying, Freya lifted herself out of the armchair and crossed the room.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, closing the notepad and watching her back as she walked away from him. When she reached the kitchenette, she slid open a cupboard he hadn’t noticed before, in which were stacked a dozen bottles.
“Just bear with me,” she said, bringing one of the bottles down from the shelf. “Because, if I don’t get a drink soon, I am never going to make it through this.”
Chapter Seven
Freya
It wasn’t that she had anything against the guy. To be honest, he might have been all right, even if he was a little on the dull side. Not to mention a member of Blackwatch. But the incessant questioning. It was like being forced to mind one of Chrissy’s little sisters. And Freya did not do babysitting well.
“So, alcohol,” he said, watching as she flicked off the cap and took her first, long draw. “Werewolves are okay to drink? It doesn’t affect you in any way?”
“What, like turn us vicious?”
“Pretty much.”
She laughed. She was only just noticing how scared he looked. Clearly this one-on-one was nearly as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.
“It depends on the wolf, the person,” she answered. “I suspect it would not be looked upon too kindly if one of the others found me here, drinking midday with a non-wolf, but I know my limits. I think.” Her attempt at a joke only increased the look of terror in his eyes. Maybe she could have more fun with this over the next few days than she had imagined.
“Don’t worry,” she said, taking another swig, before moving back across to the fireplace. “There are strict rules about changing in the village. It’s not allowed. In any circumstance.”
“Why?”
“Risk of exposing ourselves, mainly. A lot of people come through here. Deliveries and things. Not to mention the odd camper, looking for somewhere off the beaten track. We have to keep our other selves secret. No one outside the pack can know about us. Well, except you guys now, I suppose. Besides, there are children here. Being a wolf changes how you hear things, how you see things. It’s just not worth the risk.”
For once he didn’t jot anything down. Instead his eyes stared straight into her. Then, as if realising what he was doing, he broke the contact and cleared his throat.
“So, you learn to be in control?” he stuttered. “What does that mean? I thought it would be natural.”
“It is. But like anything, just because it’s natural, it doesn’t mean you don’t have to practise it. Like walking. People are meant to walk, but toddlers have to learn.”
“But you’re not turned when you are a child. We are still right about that, aren’t we? You have to wait until you are older, don’t you? Why is that?”
Sitting down again, she shifted her legs underneath her.
“I’ve always been led to believe that Blackwatch are the big know-it-alls. Eyes in the sky, etcetera. I can’t believe you don’t already have this stuff.
Sitting back in his chair, he shrugged. “Maybe a lot of it’s in books and files that Jessop and I just don’t have access to.’
“So, there’s a lot of cloak and dagger stuff going on, is there?”
“It’s an enterprise that was originally set up to control human and vampire interaction. I’m sure there’s enough in their files to keep us all in nightmares for a lifetime.”
She shifted her position again, this time a fraction closer to him. What she wanted was to be able to read his expression. Reading people had always been a skill of hers. Or, at least, she had thought it was. Frowning and nervous seemed to be this man’s main defaults. That didn’t fit with her idea of Blackwatch at all.
“So why did you join them?” She asked, hijacking the questioning and turning it on him. “What would make you want to be part of something you don’t even seem to trust?”
In his apprehension, his fingers fumbled with the edge of his top and Freya felt her own pulse rising. Clearly, this wasn’t something he had anticipated talking about. And part of her wondered if she should take back the question. But then again, why should she? He was allowed to ask her whatever he wanted. There needed to be at least some reciprocation.
“My father was a vampire,” he said. “Not my real father. The man I grew up calling Dad, he was. My birth father left home before I was even two. My mother was struggling for money and took on a job as a live donor.”
“Live donor? You mean…”
“Food for vampires. Yup. It’s all monitored by Blackwatch. And it’s pretty tightly controlled but, still, it’s not a line of work most people want to end up in. It has its risks, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Jeez.” She didn’t know where this conversation was going but, from the knot in her stomach, it wasn’t any place good. “So, what happened?”
His lips disappeared between his teeth. Motioning with his chin, he gestured towards her drink.
“May I?”
She nodded. He took a sip and handed the bottle back to her.
“Well, she was doing this job and it was only her second time. The vampire was female, something she hadn’t expected. The thing is, Blackwatch have these rules in place. They have punishments, laws governing vampires, just like people have, but it doesn’t mean that everyone follows them. So, anyway, my mother was at this woman’s house, this vampire’s house and it went for her. Not just a feeding, but in the throat, you know, aiming for the drain. My father, my step-father to be, heard her screaming and raced in. Without even a second thought, he snapped the vampire’s neck then plunged his hand into her chest and ripped out her heart. Didn’t even hesitate, that’s what my mum said. A
nyway, as he stood there he promised her she would never have to suffer like that again, at the hands of one of his kind.”
“Wow.” Freya took a moment to imagine the scene. The affect that would have had. “So, which of those is the reason you joined Blackwatch? The actions of your father or the woman vampire that nearly killed your mum?”
‘Both. My father was ostracised for decades because of what he’d done–saving a mortal at the expense of a vampire. That’s what the law says you should do, but that doesn’t mean vampires like it. I joined so that I could get justice for vampires like him. And make sure no one gets put in a position like my mother was again.’
Her skin prickled, as if a cold draft had blown in from outside.
“These live donors, do they still exist? Surely that’s barbaric?”
He nodded sadly, the first hint of an emotion, other than fear, she had seen in him all day.
“As long as there are vampires, there will be donors. I don’t see how there can’t be. And it’s far less barbaric than what would happen otherwise.”
“And your mother and father now, are they —”
“She is still alive. Living by the coast in Suffolk. And my father… he tries to be with her whenever he can. He loves her, of course. He will always love her. But she is suffering the effects of time. With her own eventual mortality.”
* * *
Michael
* * *
From the silence, he was certain he had said too much. The way her eyes had locked on him. Like she was somehow looking into him or at least trying to? How far did a werewolf’s telepathy stretch? he wondered. Could werewolves read people’s minds? His notes said no, but he already knew they weren’t up to date. Maybe she’d been in his head all along.
The fact was that, right then, it didn’t matter anyway. He knew the question she was about to ask him. It was the same one that everyone asked, when they heard about his mother. Not that he had shared this with many people. Anyone outside Blackwatch would have had him committed, for just thinking vampires were real. But he had told his girlfriend–now ex-girlfriend, after the hours of Blackwatch training had taken its toll on their relationship–and Jessop. They were the only two people he had divulged this to in his adult life. And now this wolf girl, with the pained eyes. Why he had told her his most intimate secret, he was still unsure. Still, he knew what was coming.
“Your mother, why did she not —”
“Why did she not have him turn her? I know. It would have been easier in many ways. I think that the other vampires in the community might have been more forgiving if he had, but there were reasons. Me, to start with. I was the main one. I was only young, remember. She was worried what would happen to me if she was changed. There is a Blackwatch rule about vampires and children, you know. They cannot adopt them in case, well, in case they abuse their power.”
“You mean feed from them?”
He nodded. “I think she thought that, once I was old enough, I would understand what he was, and what that meant. But, by then, she felt too old to change.”
“That’s ridiculous, surely? You can become a vampire at any age.”
“Of course you can, but my father had fallen in love with her when she was young. She did not want the woman he was stuck with for all eternity to be some older, withered version of herself. She has never said this in so many words, of course, but you can tell. .”
He was expecting more questions. About his upbringing. About whether his father did feed from him, or from other live donors. Questions he didn’t want to answer. But, at the same time, he did. Never before had he been able to speak so candidly with someone. Jessop had asked out of curiosity–a desire to deepen his knowledge of vampires and thus help his advancement at Blackwatch–but had never considered the emotional baggage that came with it for Michael. And as for his ex, Sophie, she worked at Blackwatch. That was about as deep as their connection went in the end. He had thought she was a woman he could be honest with about his upbringing, but her attitude had been similar to Jessop. He was just another source of data.
Aware that a silence had expanded between them, Michael brought himself back to the moment and turned the tables back to where they were meant to be in the first place.
“What’s the worst thing about being a werewolf?” he asked.
“Sorry?” Her head jerked up in surprise.
“Well, must be some great bits. I know you said it’s painful and everything, but it must be amazing, surely, to be able to turn into a wolf. To speed through the grass and flowers. To be able to see a whole different world. That must be … well, I can’t even start to imagine what that’s like.”
“It’s pretty special.”
“But what’s the worst bit? You can hear each other’s thoughts, right? Is that hard?”
Her mouth opened and he found himself leaning forwards, waiting to hear her answer. A sound cracked in her throat.
* * *
Freya
* * *
The worst bit. He was so innocent. After only an hour together, she could feel that sense of naïve optimism. It was amazing. Refreshing. What she would give to be able to look at life through his eyes. Even the way he spoke about his father. Somehow, he had even managed to find good in that. There was no good to be found in what she had done. What the pack, her mother, had forced her to do. A heat was building up behind her eyes. Swallowing, she tried to force it back. They didn’t cry in the pack. Why would they? They had everything they needed, didn’t they? And the other stuff? Well, anything else was done for the good of the pack. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?
“I’m sorry.” Michael’s face had crumpled in concern. In attempting to shake her head, a tear flicked free, which tumbled down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s…It’s…” What was it? What was she trying to say? There was nothing she could tell him. That was the truth of it. Even if she wanted to, she knew he wouldn’t understand. How could he? Even she didn’t. So, this time, when she parted her lips, instead of speaking and telling him of the horrendous atrocities she had committed in the name of the pack, she leant forward and placed them squarely on his.
Chapter Eight
Michael
Where the hell had that come from? He certainly hadn’t intended giving Freya the wrong impression. He’d been attempting to be totally professional. Efficient.
But his question to her, about what was the worst thing about being a werewolf, had shifted the atmosphere. The way her bottom lip disappeared under her top teeth and how her eyes had lifted up, as though she was trying to push away unhappy memories. When that tear had started weaving its way down her cheek, the impulse to wipe it away had been overwhelming. What he hadn’t expected was for her lips to land on his, just a moment later. And for the urge to kiss her back to take him over with such ferocity.
Heat from her body pulsed through him. Her hands were on his, on the small of his back, then at the front, fiddling with his buttons. First the top one, then the second. There was no waiting for the third. He lifted his arms and let her pull the shirt over his head. Then it was his turn. His hands on her body. His fingertips against her skin. Her arms above her head.
Shaking his head, he stepped back, his heart pounding beneath his ribs.
“No, we can’t do this. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t…I can’t… This is… This is…”
She stepped forward and took him by the hand and moved it down to the buttons on her jeans, her eyes fixed on his.
“This is exactly what we both need,” she said.
Freya
* * *
Lying in the bed, she laughed at the absurdity of the situation. As bizarre as it was, it was probably one of the few acts she had managed in the last few years that her mother would have been proud of. Future alphas were meant to mate outside the pack, to keep the gene pool as wide as possible. And it had b
een one hell of a mating. Sweat had beaded on his chest and across his shoulders. He was scrawnier than the men in the compound. Less muscular, paler, yet that hadn’t mattered. What did matter was that, for a while there, she was able to block it all out. The memories of the screaming and begging. The wide eyes filled with terror. The tears and the pleading. All of it was banished, as she focussed on the way his body moved. The way his fingers felt against her skin.
“You’re thinking that was a mistake, aren’t you?” Michael’s words brought her back to the room. “This was a bad idea. You’re right. You’re completely right. I should go.”
Flushing pink, he shifted over to the edge of the bed. But, before he could manage to sit upright, Freya was pushing him back down again.
“I wasn’t thinking this was a mistake,” she said.
“You weren’t?”
“Were you?”
A half shrug and shake of the head. ‘It’s probably not my most professional moment ever.’
‘Funny, I was thinking the exact opposite.’
His eyes narrowed on hers, the confusion caused by her statement clear on his face. Given how hard he had worked over the last hour, she probably owed him something.
“Future alphas are meant to mate outside the pack,” she said. “Bring new blood into the line.”
“Mate! You mean…?” He sprang back up, all the colour now draining from his cheeks. “You mean that’s what this was all about?
For what felt like the first time in forever, Freya laughed.
“Wow, seriously. You are highly strung.” She pushed him back down once more, unable to remove the grin from her face. “Don’t worry. We’re good. I just meant in general. That’s all.”
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