by Myles, Eden
“I love you,” Roman admitted. “I need you. I have since the moment we met.”
Kevin groaned, faintly astonished by Roman’s admission. He knew if he stayed, he’d be giving in. From there, it would only be a short fall to becoming like the others. “If you love me, you’ll let me leave,” he whispered, disentangling himself. “Because you know that if I love you, I’ll come back to you.”
Looking reluctant, Roman let him go. It was all Kevin could do to keep from crying. He wordlessly put himself back together and left the house before Roman could see the tears in his eyes.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
“Something bothering you, big bro?” Hannah asked as she carried another box of cans into the old United Methodist Church only a few blocks from their apartment building.
Kevin tried to ignore her question. Once a month, on a Saturday afternoon, Kevin helped his sister with the local food drive. It was a worthy cause and he enjoyed helping out those in need. A big part of him was happy it had fallen on this weekend; that meant he had a legitimate excuse not to see Roman or be with the pack.
Time, he thought. I need time to sort things out.
How ironic that only a month ago, when he had first met Roman, he had wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment with his new family. To run with them and learn what it meant to be a Pedigree werewolf. He’d wanted so desperately to be in Roman’s bed, in his heart. Now, though, he realized that time apart was exactly what he needed to put his head together properly.
Roman said he loved him, but Kevin wasn’t sure what that meant. Did Roman love him as a lover, or as something to own and dominate? It was almost impossible for him to understand their alpha. Roman was so old, so mysterious. He felt like a man trying to see inside the mind of a god.
Hannah’s boyfriend Matthew stood outside the box truck parked in the delivery alley, holding a case of canned tomatoes. “Earth to Kevin,” he said to get Kevin’s attention.
Kevin shook himself from his fugue and took it. It felt about as heavy as a pillow. He was surprised by how increasingly strong he’d gotten in the last few weeks, almost like being with the pack was increasing his wolf strength. “Stick another on,” he said, and Matthew complied, whistling.
“You working out, Kev?”
“Been going to the gym, yeah. I have to stay in shape to defend my little sister from unscrupulous suitors,” he joked, though perhaps his face didn’t show it because Matthew looked worried.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Matthew, a large, handsome, African-American man studying to be an attorney like Hannah, said. “Remind me never to piss you off, man.”
Kevin laughed, ducked inside the church. Hannah stood at one of the many long trestle tables where they would be handing out foodstuffs to the needy, counting cans by running her fingers over them. Hannah was always very concerned that there was enough for everyone who came to the church. “You broke up, didn’t you?” she said without looking up.
Kevin set the tomatoes down. “What is this obsession with my love life? You’re as bad as Jolene.”
“I care about you, stupid,” Hannah shot back, tossing her long, loose blonde hair back over one shoulder. “Your breakup is my breakup. And I’m not as bad as Jolene, I’m worse.” She pinched his nose. “Get it right!”
Kevin discreetly removed one of the cans that Hannah had counted.
“I know what you did. Put it back.”
“No.”
“Put it back!”
“Make me.”
“Kevin!”
“Not till you stop asking me stupid questions about my boyfriends!” Kevin laughed.
Hannah reached for a bag of white bread on a nearby table, swung it around expertly, and hit Kevin in the chest with it. The bread made a dull thud as it connected with the hard, lean muscles of his pecs.
“That’s a declaration of war, I’ll have you know, young lady.” Kevin reached for a pack of bagels, took one out, and threw it at Hannah. It bounced off her shoulder.
“And that’s not?” She hit him again, harder, smashing the bread flat, and before long they had a full-fledged food fight going on—or a bread fight, in any event.
Reverend Shrewsbury stepped into the room at the sound of the commotion, shook his head, and discreetly left to gather more foodstuffs.
Neither Kevin nor Hannah were paying any attention when the window on the opposite end of the church hall blew out in a rain of deadly sharp glass daggers and a huge, shaggy beast burst through. Its fur shimmered and its teeth flashed as it lashed out at the air with an outstretched claw. It hit the floor and slid across the waxed hardwood, heading right for Kevin and Hannah where they were picking crumbs of bread from their hair.
Hannah gasped, turning toward the commotion, her hands blindly seeking answers. Kevin knocked his sister out of the way at the last moment, and the werewolf skidded by them, crashing into the long trestles set up, toppling them, snapping some in two, and sending others and hundreds of pounds of cans and boxes of foodstuffs spinning into the double doors of the church hall like a barricade.
“Kevin!” Hannah shouted, scrambling to her feet. “What’s going on?”
The werewolf threw off debris and stood up. It was huge, upright and silvery-pale, looking every bit like a typical movie werewolf—and just as terrifying. Its Navy Seals tags jingled around its thick, furry neck. It eyed Kevin with pale, savage eyes, leaving no doubt in Kevin’s mind as to who it was. “Pedigree…” it snarled at him, though the sound that came out of its jaws was anything but human.
Hannah screamed.
Kevin looked around, but the doors of the hall were blocked, and there were no other exits. The window was broken, but there was no safe way to get Hannah out. From the other side of the barricade, he could hear Matthew and Reverend Shrewsbury banging and shouting, but they weren’t getting in. Grabbing Hannah’s hand, he yanked on it. “Follow me.”
Fenrir swiped his arms about angrily, knocking cans and boxes to the floor. He bellowed like a train.
“What’s going on, Kevin?”
“Just follow me!”
He dragged her down the hall. Reverend Shrewsbury had a desk set up near the back where he punched tickets or wrote down the names of needy parishioners. Kevin shoved his sister in the kneehole and crouched down, blocking her escape. “Stay here. Don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”
“Kevin…Kevin…!” She grabbed at the front of his shirt in her panic.
“Please, Hannah, trust me!”
Sobbing, she nodded.
Kevin stood up and turned, just in time. Fenrir was bearing down on him, his wicked claws slicing the air like scythes.
Kevin ducked and rolled, coming up inches away. But before Fenrir could lunge, he kicked out, his shin connecting with Fenrir’s knees. Fenrir howled in pain, shattering another glass window with his high-pitched wail of outrage, and dropped to the floor, giving Kevin just enough time to scramble away.
“You run!” Fenrir snarled out.
“No,” Kevin said, stopping and calling on the wolf. It filled his body, increasing his height, broadening his chest, thickening his muscle mass, and making dark, reddish hair spring to life all over him. His head flattened and became a pair of snapping jaws and his teeth and claws lengthened to three-inch-long knives. Within seconds he was like Fenrir—almost eight feet of towering muscle and fanged, furry rage. He roared a warning at Fenrir, and Fenrir roared back.
If he wanted to hurt Hannah, he would need to go through Kevin first.
Fenrir tried. With a lunge, he tackled Kevin to the floor. Errant boxes and cans shot in every direction. He tried to snap his jaws down around Kevin’s muzzle, but Kevin caught them in his hand, holding them open. It was like wrestling with an alligator. Fenrir snarled and whipped side to side, trying to snap his jaws shut. Kevin grunted and kicked, slashing at Fenrir’s belly with his clawed hind legs.
Fenrir squealed in pain and jerked away, but Kevin c
ame after the werewolf, determined to defeat him—to kill him, if necessary. The two locked together like wild dogs and began thrashing and biting and slashing at each other with their claws. They ripped clumps of hair out of each other, scratched at eyes, slashed at bellies. Fenrir threw Kevin against one wall, breaking the cinderblocks that made up the church hall. Kevin quickly recovered and jumped on Fenrir, pummeling him.
The savage noises of battle they made caused Matthew and the Reverend to bang even harder on the barricaded doors and shout to be let in. Kevin could hear Matthew screaming for Hannah—could hear Hannah sobbing from her safe place under the desk. He couldn’t let Fenrir go. Fenrir would return—Fenrir would try and hurt Hannah to get back at him for stealing Roman’s affections.
A burst of rage gave Kevin the upper hand he needed. As Fenrir lashed out at him, he sidestepped the other werewolf and reached out one long arm, snagging Fenrir by the dog tags. He wasn’t sure if they would hold, but they did. Fenrir let out a choked scream as Kevin cut off his breath. He released the panting Fenrir only to lift him up off his feet and drag his face close. “You will not hurt my family!” he roared before throwing him the length of the hall.
Fenrir skidded along the floor and crashed into the wall beside the broken window. Kevin hoped it would be enough, but Fenrir jumped to his feet and glared at Kevin, panting breath and drooling blood onto the floor. He looked at the broken window beside him, at the shattered glass. He grabbed up a long shard in one hand and pounced forward, trying to drive it into Kevin’s exposed belly.
Kevin dodged, and as Fenrir flew by, he picked up a folding chair and cracked it over Fenrir’s head. Fenrir turned, unfazed, and sank the shard of glass into Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin screamed in rage and pain, but before he could retaliate, Fenrir lunged.
Their combined weight carried them out of the window, still tearing and snarling at each other. It was a short, first-floor fall, but they landed atop a car parked in the delivery alley behind the church. Their combined weight crushed the car like a tin can and blew out every window in a spray of glass that littered the dirty alley.
The two werewolves rolled over in the alley, clawing and scratching. Fenrir got atop Kevin, pinning him to the ground. He wrapped both hands around his throat and began squeezing the breath from him. He was stronger than Kevin expected. Kevin coughed and scratched at Fenrir’s giant, clawed hands, but they were like bands of iron. He could not budge them.
Just as darkness began seeping into his vision, he spotted a shadow standing behind Fenrir. He recognized it immediately as Hannah. She was scraped and bruised from climbing out the broken window and letting herself down into the alley. She wielded her white walking cane, and, with a grimace of determination on her face, lifted it high and brought it down soundly atop Fenrir’s head. “You leave my brother alone!” she cried as she broke the metal cane over the werewolf’s thick skull.
Fenrir let go of Kevin’s throat to turn and face this new menace. He started to growl.
“No!” Kevin roared. Still choking, he reached blindly for any weapon close at hand, closed his furry fist around an errant piece of rebar, and brought it around, knocking Fenrir’s legs out from under him. Fenrir went down hard in the alley. He turned to Kevin, foaming saliva lashing his fanged jaws. Kevin brought the rebar around and jammed it in his open mouth.
Choking, he withdrew just enough for Kevin to find his feet. Furious, Kevin reached for the only other weapon available—the crushed car. It was heavy, huge, but his strength, he quickly learned, was enormous, and rage fueled his determination. As Fenrir prepared to lunge at him once more, Kevin picked up the twisted piece of metal and flung it at Fenrir.
Metal screeched and twisted, knocking him far back in the alley. The crumpled car rolled over and over, finally ending up on its roof, its wheels spinning. By then, though, Fenrir had had enough. He turned tail and disappeared quickly down a long alley, vanishing into the city like a silvery ghost.
Kevin thought about laying chase, but pain and exhaustion drove him to his knees. He hunched there in the alley in his tattered clothes, panting, blood pouring from the wound in his shoulder. He whined deep in his throat and Hannah rushed forward to help him, ignoring the fact that he was quite obviously a monster like the one that had attacked them. “Kevin,” she cried, and took his giant, bloodstained hand.
Her touch soothed something deep and primal inside him and he found himself letting the wolf go. He shrank down into his human form, the shard of glass falling from the wound in his shoulder. Hannah put her hand on his seeping wound, but it was already in the process of mending. “Oh god, Kevin,” she cried, tears in her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he managed. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I…” Sirens in the distance made Kevin stiffen. Matthew and the Reverend must have called the police. They would be here in only a few short minutes. He didn’t know if Hannah would help him, but he had no one else to turn to. “Can you get me to the car?”
“Of course,” she said as he struggled to his feet. She dug her shoulder under his arm, and together they started back to Kevin’s car.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen
A crash from the kitchen sent Kevin scrambling from bed. “Hannah! Hannah, are you all right?”
She stood at the counter, making a sandwich for herself, a broken bottle of mayonnaise on the floor at her feet. “Dammit,” she breathed. “I’m such a klutz! I should have gotten a guide dog when I went to that school for the blind.”
Kevin smiled, relieved it wasn’t anything serious. “How would a guide dog make you any less of a klutz, sis?”
She put her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Lemme help you before you step on any glass.”
Hannah swatted him away. “I’m blind, not a baby, goddamnit!”
“Hey, I’m just concerned!”
“About what? That something in the refrigerator will jump out and eat me?”
Her words made him pause. “More like we’ll wind up in Emergency while a doctor pulls glass out of your foot.”
She rolled her eyes but dutifully jumped up and sat on the counter so Kevin could sweep up the fragments of glass. “Are you going back to work soon? Because you’re driving me batshit crazy being home all day.”
“Tomorrow,” Kevin said, retrieving the broom and dustpan from the kitchen closet. “Jolene said they’re reopening the club tomorrow.”
“Well, thank god for small favors!”
Kevin sighed, didn’t know what to say, so instead started sweeping glass while Hannah fetched a bucket for the mop. As they cleaned up the kitchen together, Kevin said, “I’m sorry if I’m being difficult and a little…overprotective. I just thought you might still be shaken by yesterday. God knows I still am.”
“Yeah, well, we did almost get eaten by a werewolf. Who wouldn’t be rattled?”
Kevin grimaced as he dumped broken glass into the kitchen garbage. They still hadn’t talked about that little detail.
Hannah stopped mopping and watched him with her blind eyes. Kevin squirmed. He knew, intellectually, that she couldn’t see him. But that didn’t stop the insinuating feeling that, somehow, she could, that she had some secret inner sight.
“So when were you planning on telling me your little secret?”
“What secret?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Kevin,” she said in a low, soft voice. “I know what you are. I’ve always known, I think. I just somehow convinced myself that I was crazy. But after what happened in the church yesterday, I just know I’m right.”
Kevin felt his pulse jump in his throat. “The police are calling it a pack of dogs.”
“Yeah, the same kind of ‘dog’ that killed that pedo and put him in the Dumpster behind the club. The kind of ‘dog’ that isn’t a dog.”
Kevin cringed. “Have I always been so obvious?”
She shook her head. “Maybe not to others, but I can smell wolf on you, Kev. When yo
u come home from being in the mountains, you always smell like a wet dog. And there have been other things , too, going all the way back to when we were kids. Your interest in werewolves, your little getaways, little things like that.” She shrugged. “I’ve always known. When are you going to figure out I’m blind, not stupid?”
“I never said you were stupid,” Kevin answered, getting defensive.
“But you think I don’t know. Why do you think I haven’t moved in with Matthew?” She sighed and set the mop aside. “You promised Mom and Dad you’d look after me, but I made a promise too. I promised myself I wouldn’t let you get hurt, and I won’t.” She paused as a loud bang sounded from somewhere in the building. They both stiffened and waited, then heard muffled cursing from the floor above them. It was just old lady Margaret upstairs, struggling with that window that always fell down. They let out a joint sigh, realizing they were both on edge after the attack.
Hannah nodded and said in a softer voice, “I’ve thought about this long and hard. I want to know who the other werewolf is and what he wants with you, and I want to know now.”
Kevin’s first instinct was to lie. But then he reconsidered. Maybe if Hannah knew what they were up against, she would be better prepared to deal with anything that came their way. “Drop the mop and come with me.”
She did, following him out into the living room. Kevin sat down on their ratty, old green sofa and took Hannah’s hands, guiding her down beside him. Taking a deep breath, he started telling her everything, starting from when he was a teenager and covering all the important points up to his meeting with Roman.
Hannah sat quietly a long time before picking her words. “If you’re part of Roman’s pack, why isn’t he doing anything about his lieutenant?”
“You’re taking this awfully well. It’s actually kind of creepy.”
“Answer the question, Kev!”
“I don’t know, Hannah. Maybe he loves Fenrir too much. Maybe he thinks human beings have no value.”
“Are you going to leave Roman’s pack?”
Kevin thought about that. The idea depressed him to no end. To be alone again seemed more horrible than anything he could imagine. But there was no way that he and Fenrir could co-exist. And he wasn’t so sure about Roman’s moral value. There had to be another way. “I’m not sure. I may have to.”