Camwolf

by J. L. Merrow

  The pleasant warmth the meal and the wine had imbued him with was gone in an instant. Steeling himself, Nick flipped open the phone.

  Herrscher didn’t waste time with greetings. “Doctor Sewell, I think we should meet.”

  Nick felt his fingers tighten on the phone. “I thought we weren’t going to see each other again?”

  “Things have changed.”

  Nick turned away from the table, as if by doing so he could prevent Julian hearing what he was about to say. “You mean, Julian came back to college, rather than staying with his mother where you could get at him without involving me?”

  There was the clatter of a fork being laid down abruptly on a plate.

  “You are an intelligent man, Dr. Sewell.”

  “Yes, well, the university does tend to prefer that in its lecturers.” Another couple was descending the stairs to the cellar. The woman, her heels clattering on the iron stairs, sent Nick a startled look. He froze for a moment, wondering frantically if his other nature was showing—then realised she was simply shocked at how appallingly rude he appeared, pointedly ignoring his dinner companion for a phone call.

  He took a breath to calm himself as she click-clacked across the tiles in her stilettos. “What do you want, Herrscher?”

  “I told you. To meet. We need to discuss Julian’s future.”

  He could say no. But somehow he doubted Herrscher would simply fade away back to Germany, leaving Julian alone. “Not tonight.” He needed time to think.

  “Tomorrow, then. At the house in Fen Ditton?”

  “No.” Nick’s stomach twisted at the very thought. He’d never be able to think of that place without seeing blood disappearing down the plughole in the shower. “There’s an area of woodland, just outside of town. It’s called the Godolphin Estate. We’ll meet there, after dusk. Say, around eight o’clock. Come alone—I don’t want your thugs there.”

  “You have directions for this place?”

  “Google it.” Jaw clenched, Nick snapped his phone shut.

  Julian’s eyes were troubled. Worse than that—there was the same deadness Nick had seen in them when he’d found him in the cellar. “Nick…you mustn’t do this. He will fight you, and he will win. I don’t want you to…I don’t want you hurt.”

  “There isn’t any option!” Nick said a bit more harshly than he meant to. He sighed. “I don’t want to fight him, but I’m not sure… I need time to think about this. At least we’ll be meeting on my terms, on my territory. And there has to be another way to settle things than fighting like animals.” Nick wasn’t even sure if he could fight Herrscher. He might be a bastard, but he was Julian’s father, for God’s sake. It was one thing to put down a monster like Schräger—quite another to contemplate killing a man who, for all his faults, was a perfectly rational being. You’re not just the sum of your baser impulses, Nadia had told him. Maybe it was time to stop thinking with them.

  Julian nodded, a little of the colour coming back to his face. “You don’t regret…?” he said awkwardly.

  Nick captured Julian’s hand once more in his own. “No,” he said firmly, feeling himself smiling in a ridiculously soppy fashion despite Herrscher’s unwelcome interruption. “I don’t regret a thing. Come on, I’ll get the bill and we’ll go home.”

  They left the restaurant hand in hand. The woman from earlier smiled at them approvingly, although Nick was fairly certain her male companion muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath. Once out on the street, they prudently abandoned the physical contact. Nick almost laughed. If he ended up being arrested for getting into a fight with some of the ignorant bigots that still made up a regrettably large proportion of the population, Inspector Phillips would probably think all his Christmases had come at once…

  He stopped abruptly.

  “Nick?” Julian’s face was concerned as he turned back to look at Nick, caught in a streetlamp’s unnatural glow.

  Nick gave a slow, savage smile, excitement rising in his belly. “I think I have an idea. Come on. Let’s get back, and we’ll talk about it in my rooms.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When the knock came on her door at ten o’clock in the morning, Tiff was still in bed. She tumbled out, checked her pyjamas hadn’t shifted to reveal anything she’d prefer to hide (like muffin tops, for instance) and answered the door, expecting Crack.

  “Julian!”

  He smiled at her and picked a feather out of her hair. “Lazybones. Are you going to let me in? I could murder a coffee.” It was just like old times. Weird. Tiff stepped back and went to put the kettle on.

  “Um. Is everything all right now, with you and Dr. Sewell?” she asked, grabbing a couple of mugs and taking them to her bathroom for a wash.

  “Yes. Are you sleeping with Crack?”

  “Yeah, right. He may be skinny, but I still think you’d notice if he was in my bed.” Tiff couldn’t find a tea towel so she dried her hands on her bath towel and let the mugs fend for themselves. “He helped find you, you know.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, Julian was just standing there, looking serious. “I know. I…” He hugged himself and looked away. “Thank you. For all that you did.”

  Tiff’s heart clenched. “Don’t be daft. You don’t have to thank me for anything. You’re my best friend! Of course I bloody did everything I could to help you.” She hugged him awkwardly, one hand still holding two dripping mugs. “Right. Coffeemate?”

  He nodded. “And then you can tell me what you are doing with Crack.” His smile thinned. “He may seem all right, but he’s got a bit of a reputation, you know.”

  “Says the bloke who’s had more boyfriends than I’ve had hot dinners.”

  Julian grinned. “Certainly more boyfriends than he’s had hot dinners.”

  Tiff frowned. “He’s just got a really high metabolism, all right? He can’t help it if he’s skinny. And don’t look at me like that. We’re just friends, all right?”

  “Right.” Julian’s tone was so bloody sincere she could have decked him. She pointedly didn’t offer him a biscuit.

  “So, are you going back to lectures and stuff now?” she asked round a mouthful of HobNob.

  “Soon.” He played with the teaspoon in his mug, scooping up spoonfuls of coffee and then trickling them back in again. “Nick and I have to do something today.”

  Parting with Julian that morning after waking up in bed with him had been extraordinarily hard. But Julian had wanted to see Tiffany, reassure her that everything was all right. And Nick had phone calls to make in any case.

  Walking down to the Porter’s Lodge for his mail, Nick still felt like part of him was missing. He hadn’t planned to visit the SCR afterwards, but found himself needing a bit of Nadia’s no-nonsense company to shake him out of it.

  She was there, thankfully, her expression slightly strained as she tried to ward Angus Lemon off with a chocolate biscuit. “Ah! Nick Sewell, just the man,” she exclaimed the moment she saw him. “Do excuse me, Angus. Important matters to discuss.”

  Nick found himself seized by the arm and marched straight back out into Main Court once more. “Nadia?”

  “That’s the last time I do you any favours, Nick Sewell. Ever since I popped round to see old Lemon on your behalf I haven’t been able to get rid of him.”

  “Doesn’t he know about Marjorie? And that you’re a, er, follower of Sapphos?”

  “Oh, he knows all right. Unfortunately the silly old sod doesn’t actually believe in followers of Sapphos. Thinks all it’ll take is one good—”

  Nick coughed loudly to cover up her words as a gaggle of first-years streamed past.

  “—man, I was going to say,” she continued. “And seriously, dearie, if the little blighters haven’t heard the word by now, then it’s high time they did in any case. Can’t wrap all your students in cotton wool, you know. This way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Your rooms, obviously. I had to leave my coffee in the
SCR. If I don’t get my daily dose of caffeine, I’ll never be able to face the students.” She gave him a roguish look. “Am I about to be facing one of them now?”

  “He does have his own room, you know,” Nick said mildly. “And lectures to go to, for that matter.” Not that he would be today. Nick had told him in no uncertain terms to stay within the college gates until matters with his father were resolved.

  They made their way up to Nick’s rooms, Nadia puffing a bit after the climb. While she sank gratefully onto the sofa, Nick put the kettle on and cast his eye around hurriedly for any signs of his and Julian’s activities the previous day.

  “So, all’s well that ends well, is it? You and your young man, I mean. All sunshine and roses once more? Or are you still being pestered by young Phillips?”

  Nick mustered a smile. “Well, the last time I spoke to him he seemed to imply he’d given up on me.”

  “Good. I told him he was barking up the wrong tree with you. Still, you have to see it from his point of view—a bit of a coincidence, our Mr. Lauder going missing the same night as that dreadful—”

  “Milk?” Nick broke in.

  “Don’t be silly, dearie, you know how I always have my coffee. Now, where was I?”

  “To be honest, I’d rather not talk about it anymore, if you don’t mind, Nadia.” Nick gave a shaky laugh. “Bit of an unpleasant memory.”

  She nodded. “But things are all right with you and Julian?”

  “Yes.” Nick found he was smiling without any effort. “Yes, I think they are now.”

  “Good. In that case, you can bring him round for tea next weekend. Marjorie’s just gagging to meet the boy.” She frowned. “As long as he doesn’t turn out to be a vegetarian like that young man the other night. Tiffany Meadows’ new beau? Marje was horrified. He turned down a helping of her Hungarian goulash! No wonder the boy’s so damned thin.”

  Nick suppressed a chuckle. Turning down Marje’s Hungarian goulash was very nearly sacrilege. “No, Nadia, I think I can safely say that Julian is very definitely not vegetarian.”

  He’d arranged to meet Julian back at his rooms at twelve o’clock for lunch, but by half past eleven Nick was restless enough to wander down to Garden Court and climb those interminable stairs just on the off-chance that Julian was in.

  He was. He opened the door in a pair of well-cut jeans and a soft cotton shirt, in a faded blue that brought out the colour of his eyes. He’d obviously just got back from a shower: his hair was still wet. Nick’s breath caught at the sight of him. How in God’s name had he ended up with someone like this?

  “Nick?” Julian’s voice was a little worried. “Is something wrong?”

  “No! No, I, ah—” Nick ran his hands through his hair and gave Julian a rueful smile. “I’m being a bit stalkerish, aren’t I? Sorry. Half an hour suddenly seemed like an awfully long time to wait.”

  Julian smiled, his whole face brightening. “That’s all right. Come in.”

  The room was as bare as Nick remembered it, but a lot less tidy. Julian noticed Nick looking around. “The police searched it. I’ve been trying to clear it up a bit.”

  “Christ, why didn’t you tell me? I’d have come and helped. God, what a thing to come back to. We should damned well complain about this.” Nick’s heart was pounding.

  “It’s all right. Really.” Julian gave another tired smile. Nick tried to calm his breathing. It wasn’t really that big a deal—but it was just one more way that bastard had violated Julian. As if his life meant nothing, could be turned upside down on a whim. “Nick?”

  “I—sorry. Look, let’s go and get an early lunch, all right? Then we can get on with what we need to do for tonight.”

  Julian nodded, but didn’t move. “Nick?” he asked again, and this time his tone was quite different. It was soft, almost just a sigh. Nick stepped forward almost without knowing he did so, and suddenly Julian was in his arms, their bodies moulding together like they’d been made to measure. They shared a long, slow kiss and, although Nick’s body had an inevitable reaction, he didn’t press for anything more. It just seemed right, somehow, to simply hold Julian.

  When they parted, a lot of the tension seemed to have drained out of him, and Julian’s smile was more relaxed too. I love you, Nick thought with a kind of wonder. He raised a hand to stroke away a strand of still-damp hair that had fallen over Julian’s face, and breathed in a waft of his shampoo, comforting in its familiarity. For a moment the coming evening seemed very far away and slightly unreal.

  But only for a moment. Nick sighed. “Come on. We’ll grab a sandwich at the Copper Kettle, and then we’ll need to get moving.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Driving out to the Godolphin Estate that evening, Nick’s whole body thrummed with the tension that had been building all day. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a wholly unpleasant sensation. He realised he was in a certain sense looking forward to the coming confrontation. This was his chance to beat Herrscher—not at his own game, perhaps, but beat him nonetheless.

  If it worked. If the day’s preparations hadn’t all been a waste of time. He risked a glance over to Julian in the passenger seat. Julian was slowly regaining his colour, but his hands in his lap looked painfully cramped. Nick’s heart lurched. “This—you don’t have to come, you know. I won’t think any less of you if you change your mind. He’s your father—it must be damned hard for you. You weren’t raised to defy him.”

  Julian took a deep breath and stretched out his fingers deliberately. “It’s all right. I—I’ve had a little practice defying those I was taught to obey.”

  Nick was absurdly relieved he hadn’t mentioned Schräger’s name. God help him, just the very thought of that bastard made his blood boil, even now he was six feet under in an unmarked grave. “I’ll take the lead, anyway. You don’t even have to show yourself if you don’t want to.” He reached across and gripped Julian’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I have to be here. We’re pack, Nick. We stand together.”

  Perhaps he realised that wasn’t precisely the sort of terms Nick wanted to be thinking in right now, because after a moment Julian added, “And I love you.”

  Nick’s fingers tightened of their own accord, but as they reached the turning, he had to let go of Julian’s hand to change gear. They’d got to the estate well in advance of the pre-arranged hour. It was still light, the sky just beginning to turn from pale autumn blue to the inkier shade that presaged full darkness. On such a clear night, the moon would be bright and the skies full of stars. Nick wondered if he’d still be around to see them and shivered.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Nick looked across to Julian and forced a tight smile as he put on the handbrake and unbuckled his seat belt. “Yes. Come on, I want to make damned sure there are no nasty surprises lying in wait for us. Your father’s had a whole day to prepare, even if I imagine what he’s prepared for isn’t quite what he’s going to find.”

  They walked around the Ring, eyes peeled for any signs that Herrscher and his cronies had got here early, occasionally using sticks to beat at thickets. Nick suspected Julian was only humouring him—apparently there was a sort of honour among wolves that forbade the laying of traps. Nick supposed he was going to be breaking that code tonight, but found he didn’t much care. He’d never asked to become a wolf—he was damned if he’d consider himself bound to obey their rules. What the hell was so bloody fair about a fair fight, anyhow? It didn’t make you any more right if you won. It just meant you were bigger and could hit harder.

  Or, as it might be, had sharper teeth.

  As they patrolled the area, Nick felt a curious sense of something being mildly out-of-place, and laughed in spite of himself as he realised what it must be.

  “What is it?” Julian asked.

  Nick gave a wry smile. “I’ve just realised this is the first time I’ve walked around here with my clothes on.”

  He was disconcerted by the sad look on
Julian’s face. “It seems like so long ago, when you brought me here last time. Before all…” Julian didn’t finish.

  Nick put his arms around his lover’s shoulders. “We’ll come here again. I promise you,” he added as if it wasn’t just a pretty lie, as if he could know for certain how Herrscher would react when Nick confronted him. “It’s a good plan,” he added, quite possibly for both their benefit.

  Julian nodded, his eyes downcast and teeth worrying his lower lip. “Yes.” He looked up. “Nick, I…”

  There was the sound of a car door slamming, and they jerked apart. “He’s here,” Nick said unnecessarily. “Time to get ready.”

  His eyes fearful, Julian nodded once more and disappeared into the trees on the further side from the road.

  Nick ached to see him go. He hadn’t even had time to tell Julian he loved him, for Christ’s sake. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things. Ruthlessly forcing out all feelings of regret, Nick moved into the open area at the center of the Ring, and waited, his mouth dry. He strained his ears, but caught few sounds of Herrscher’s approach. The tension that had previously lightened his limbs and sharpened his mind now coiled into a lead weight that rested uncomfortably in his stomach. Nick shook himself lightly, trying to dislodge the stiffness that was creeping into his body. If all this went wrong, he’d need to be able to react quickly.

  Not that it was likely to help him do anything but delay the inevitable. His jaw clenched as his mind insisted on speculating what it would be like for Julian if that happened. God, he should have sent the boy back to his mother—Markham had money, surely he could have protected him? Perhaps Nick should call him—

  Too late. Herrscher stepped out of the trees and into a patch of moonlight, as if the spotlight had been arranged in advance. On the other side of the clearing, the rabbits continued their attempt to munch the rough grass out of existence, moronically oblivious to the predator in their midst. Nick stood his ground and waited for Herrscher to come to him, fighting the urge to snarl at the smug expression on the man’s face, clearly visible amongst the shadows cast by the moon’s cold light.