by J. C. Holly
“After all that exercise, you’ve still got the energy to get a hard-on.” Harlan reached down and massaged Mitch’s stiff cock through his pants. “See?”
“Hey, I’m a guy. It’s what we do.” Mitch colored. “Not that I think I’ve got the energy to actually do anything with it.”
Harlan chuckled and gestured to a bench, where they both sat. “It’s rest time anyway. We’ll take five, then head upstairs and grab something to eat. No doubt you need it.”
“You have no freaking idea. I could eat a horse, shoes and all.”
“Steak, then.” Harlan nodded and stood. “You’re about to witness something incredible.”
“I am? What is it?”
“I’m going to cook.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mitch settled on a stool beside the smaller of the two tables in the kitchen. “I thought you didn’t cook?”
“I do on special occasions.” Harlan stuck his head in the fridge and pulled out two packaged steaks. “Knew I’d smelled these last night.” He tossed them onto the worktop beside the hob. “Besides, you’re so hungry you couldn’t tell if it tasted good or not.”
“You have a point. I’ll take mine rare. Guess the wolf is starting to assert itself.”
Harlan nodded, his back to Mitch as he threw some butter into the frying pan. “That happens when you tap into your primal side, like you did today.”
“I did?”
“Sure. Heavy exertion. It always gets the wolf’s attention.”
“Then I’m surprised I’m not howling.” Mitch stretched his aching legs under the table. “I could sleep for a week.”
“You let out a few growls,” Harlan said, looking back with a grin. “And we recover fast, remember? You’ll be feeling worlds better in an hour or two.”
Mitch groaned. “You’d better not be hinting at more exercise.”
Harlan snorted. “No, not today. Though we need to start looking for a suitable place for your first shift.”
“What are you looking for in particular? I know the area pretty well.”
“Somewhere quiet, deserted, a good way from civilization would be good.”
Mitch drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. “Tough to find around here. Plus, as soon as I leave the house you can guarantee someone will follow. Why does it have to be far from people?”
Harlan paused in his cooking and looked back at Mitch. “It’s not… The first shift. It hurts.” He swallowed. “A lot.”
Mitch nodded and tried to ignore the twist of his stomach. “So I might scream.”
“No might about it. It gets better, but the first is bad. We don’t want anyone coming to see what’s going on.”
“All right, so quiet, with nobody in earshot.” He smiled. “I know just the place.”
“You do? That’s great.”
“Yup. I’ll show you after we’ve eaten.”
* * * *
Harlan followed Mitch to the back of the house, but instead of going out the back door like he expected, Mitch led him to a small library. As Harlan watched, dumbfounded, Mitch crossed the room and pulled at a bookshelf. Only it wasn’t a bookshelf. It was a disguised door. Mitch turned back, grinned, then pointed inside.
“Welcome to my recording studio,” he said. “Complete with the best soundproofing money can buy.”
“Well, look at that.”
The bookshelf door led into a small lounge with two doors and two windows at the far end. Behind the windows were two rooms, a recording room and an editing booth. From what Harlan could see, the editing booth had enough dials and switches to baffle him completely. The walls of the recording room were lined with soundproofing foam.
It made perfect sense to use the place—it couldn’t be more private, and the familiar surroundings may help Mitch—but it seemed wrong, somehow. Nature was a part of the shifter lifestyle, and shifting for the first time indoors was practical but spiritless.
“That’ll work,” Harlan said, grudgingly. “Though we’ll need to head out of doors at some point soon.”
“Oh, sure,” Mitch said. “I mean, I’d rather do it in the wild, surrounded by nature instead of speakers and microphones, but this is safer.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Harlan slapped Mitch on the shoulder. “You must be smart.”
“Must be. So, uh, when are we planning to do it?”
“Tomorrow. Probably.” He shrugged. “We’ll see how you feel. For now, though, we have more training to do.”
“More? You said we were done.”
“I changed my mind.” Harlan grinned. “It’s your own fault for recovering so damn quickly.”
Mitch sighed, but it was clear he was more excited than put out. “All right, but you have to match whatever I do.”
“Deal.”
* * * *
The sun had set before Harlan called an end to the day’s exertions. The man had pushed Mitch to his breaking point, and then way past it. And Mitch had enjoyed every damn minute.
He’d never worked so hard in his life. Harlan had made him use every single muscle in his body—some that hadn’t seen a workout in a decade—and carefully watched the results. Mitch wasn’t sure whether he felt like a student or a lab rat, but either way he was pretty sure he passed with flying colors.
As promised, Harlan had worked out alongside and had completed each task with half the effort. Then again, the guy hadn’t worked out as much in the morning. Mitch doubted that was the reason, though.
As soon as they were finished, they had headed into the shower together, and Mitch was pleased to find that neither he nor Harlan was completely spent. They’d fooled around a little under the water, mostly kissing and touching, but hadn’t taken it further than that. Mitch wanted to, but Harlan said he wanted to make sure Mitch was recovered first. It was frustrating, but also nice that the guy cared enough to hold back. Given the look in Harlan’s eyes when he’d said it, though, it had taken a good amount of determination. Mitch was pretty sure that, with a few well-placed lewd comments, he could break through Harlan’s gentlemanly restraint.
After the shower they lounged on the bed, watching a music channel on the TV. Thankfully only a few songs by The Twisted Nails were played. Mitch hated seeing himself in the videos. They were decided upon by his record company, and generally contained an abundance of women, multiple over-the-top action scenes, or both. Harlan smirked at them, but didn’t mock. Mitch was sure he wanted to, though.
The phone rang, and Mitch rolled to the side of the bed to answer. The caller display reported that it was someone from his security team.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Hey, boss. Sorry to bother you this late, but we spotted a couple of prowlers near the gate. We scared them off, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Mitch sighed. No doubt a couple of fans, trying to sneak onto the grounds. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Thanks. I’ll make sure the doors and windows are locked.”
“I can head over and keep watch if you need me.”
“No, I’m good. Let me know if you see anyone else, though.”
The guard agreed and wished Mitch a good night. He hung up and turned to Harlan, who was already frowning. Apparently he’d caught the whole conversation. Shifter senses. That’ll take some getting used to.
“Prowlers?” Harlan asked.
“Yeah. I get it often enough that it doesn’t exactly keep me up at night.” Mitch stood and stretched. “Still, I’d better check the doors and set the alarm.”
“I’ll keep you company.”
“Worried about me?”
“Yes.” Harlan smiled. “Though judging by today, soon I won’t need to.”
Mitch linked his arm with Harlan’s. “Indeed. Soon I’ll be kicking your ass.”
Harlan smiled, but it looked forced. Mitch didn’t mention it, though, and they walked from room to room, checking windows and doors. Harlan occasionally scented the air, too, which made sense
. Why have a superpower if you’re not going to use it? Mitch did the same, but he still needed practice so he didn’t place much conviction in anything he picked up.
As they headed to the back door, Harlan suddenly moved ahead, then slipped out of the door. Mitch moved to follow, but Harlan thrust a hand behind him, signaling for him to wait. After a long moment, Harlan reappeared, his frown returned.
“What is it?” Mitch asked.
“Shifters. They didn’t come onto the grounds, but they spent at least a little time by the fence.” Harlan closed the door and flipped the lock, then tested it with a swift tug.
Mitch chewed at his lip. “Were they from Brubeck’s pack?”
“I can’t be certain. I didn’t recognize their scents, but I doubt that the entire pack was at the meeting. Only a fool would do that, since we so easily remember scents. To an older shifter it’s like remembering a face.”
“What should we do?”
Harlan sighed and glanced about the room for a moment, his fists clenching and relaxing. “Nothing. If they had intended to attack, they would have done so. We’ll just lock up, set the alarm, and go back to what we were doing. Tomorrow I’ll walk the perimeter and see what I find.”
“I’ll come with you.”
He shook his head. “I’d love you to, but I don’t know what I’ll find.”
“I can handle myself,” Mitch insisted. “I used to study kickboxing.”
“Against humans. Even with your new strength and speed, a shifter in wolf form could tear you apart. You need to get used to shifting, as well as using your new instincts, before you go against someone who might want to do you harm.”
Mitch tried not to take offence, but it was hard work. He clenched his jaw and nodded, then headed to the front door to lock it. He knew Harlan was right, of course, but being told he was useless was not something he wanted to hear. Harlan must have noticed Mitch’s new attitude, as he put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll train you to fight soon. Your background in a martial art will help, but shifter fighting is more about letting your wolf take over, regardless of what form you’re in. Once we’ve dealt with your first shift, we’ll move on to self-defense.”
Mitch nodded again. “All right.” He took a breath. “In that case, I shift tomorrow morning.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am.”
Harlan kissed him on the forehead. “I look forward to seeing you in your fur.”
Mitch smiled, then turned to lock the front door and set the alarm. So much for his idea of seducing Harlan that evening. They both had way too much on their minds.
Chapter Fifteen
Despite having only slept for four hours, come six in the morning Harlan was awake and walking the grounds of Mitch’s home. He felt a little guilty about not letting Mitch come with him, especially given that it looked like it was going to be a glorious morning, but he’d rather have a pissed off boyfriend than a dead one.
The scents he’d picked up last night were definitely those of shifters, and seemed to have come from the east, so that’s where Harlan started, following the line of the ten-feet-high and spike-topped metal fence. The air was still, which helped the task, as it meant he wasn’t assaulted by so many scents.
In the tall grass on the other side of the fence lay the odd piece of trash, cans, and discarded candy wrappers mostly, no doubt left by fans waiting around in the hopes of spotting Mitch or one of his famous visitors. Harlan couldn’t really see the point. He’d never been interested in celebrity. They were just other human beings, only with more money and nicer stuff, and that was hardly a reason to elevate someone above others.
His task would have been easier if he could shift into wolf form and use his senses to their fullest, but Mitch would likely have a hard time explaining to his security staff that the wild animal on his grounds was perfectly safe and didn’t need to be shot at.
After a few minutes of methodical searching and scenting the air, he found the first clues. In an area a few feet from the fence, near one of the rear corners of the compound, there was a patch of tamped-down grass. The air was thick with the scent of at least two shifters, though it appeared that they had stayed in human form, probably in case they were spotted. And spotted they had been. Scents of humans, sweat, and gun oil came from the opposite direction to which Harlan had come, from the guards that had run over to get rid of the trespassers. There had been no scuffle. Likely the shifters had smelled the guards coming before they ever saw them and fled.
A reflection caught his eye and he glanced up to find a security camera mounted on one of the fence’s tall prongs. So that was how the guards knew they were there. The cameras made him feel a little more secure in the house, but they also stopped him from vaulting the fence to try and track the scents back the way they had come from. Instead he made a mental note of the scents, should he come across the shifters again, then headed back to the house.
Mitch was waiting for him in the kitchen, and Harlan greeted him with a tight embrace and a long kiss. Mitch reciprocated, then gave Harlan a bemused smile afterwards.
“What was that for?”
Harlan shrugged. “I need a reason?”
“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Mitch said with a grin. “So, did you find anything?”
“Two shifters were by the rear corner last night, near the trees. They either saw the camera, or heard the guards, and bolted.”
“Most times when a fan is out there, they stay around that area. If you head out from that corner and into the trees, you’ll eventually hit an old walking trail. There’s even an area to park if you go far enough.”
Harlan took a proffered coffee cup and downed its contents in one gulp, wincing slightly as the hot liquid scorched its way down his throat. “I need to go and check it out.” He caught Mitch’s momentary frown. “Later, though. Scents hang around long enough that it’s not urgent.”
Mitch sipped at his own coffee. “So, what do I need to do to prepare for my first shift? Any meditation, or chanting, or anything?”
“Only if you want to. Your body already knows what to do, so all you really need to do is take your clothes off and will the change.”
“Will it? What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to describe,” Harlan said. “You think about being a wolf, and this…pull manifests. You let yourself by pulled and the shift begins. The same thing works in reverse, too. It’ll make sense once we begin.”
“Well, let’s get started.”
* * * *
Harlan stared at Mitch. “Now? Are you sure?”
Hell no, I’m not sure. I’m about to go through probably the most painful experience in my life and turn into a friggin’ wolf. “Yeah, I’m sure. You need to get out and scout, and I need to meet with the guys later to discuss some album stuff. They called while you were out. It’s now or tomorrow.”
Harlan pulled Mitch close, his strong hands on Mitch’s forearms. “We could do it tomorrow if you wanted to.”
Mitch shook his head. “If I put it off, I’ll keep on putting it off. It’s now or never.”
Harlan nodded once, then headed toward the library, his hand tight on Mitch’s, who squeezed back just as hard.
It wasn’t that he was scared of the pain, or of the change itself. More the end result. He’d be a wolf, for God’s sake. A completely different species, with four legs and fur. Would he know how to walk and run straight away? What about his tail? How the hell did someone control a tail? He could ask Harlan, but he didn’t want to come across as overly worried. The guy was probably worried enough has it was, what with this pack of assholes after him. No, it was easier to change, figure things out for himself, and make Harlan proud.
“You know,” Harlan said, as they passed into the library, “this room is beautiful. I doubt I’ve read this many books in my life.”
“Me neither,” Mitch replied, then pointed to one shelf. “Those are the ones I’ve read. The rest are ones I bought as
a bulk thing. I had to fill the shelves somehow.”
Harlan laughed. “Are they even books you like?”
“Oh, sure. I called up a couple of local stores and told them to send me a selection of fantasy and science fiction. I’ve got series from all the big names, and stuff by people I’ve never heard of.” He shrugged. “I’ll get to it all soon enough.”
“Unfortunately your new abilities don’t extend to speed-reading.”
“Damn shame. At least the long life will help.”
“Definitely.”
Harlan opened the fake bookshelf and Mitch stepped into the lounge behind. Normally the room calmed him. It was his retreat from noise and stresses. When the band came over he wouldn’t even let their friends inside. It was for music, and music alone. Today, though, it was for something new. Something terrifying.
He jumped as Harlan pulled the door shut behind them, closing them in darkness for a moment before the automatic lighting kicked in and bathed the lounge in a low and warm light. Harlan put a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
“Now’s the time for questions,” he said, softly. “I know you’re scared, so ask away. It doesn’t matter how silly it seems.”
Mitch nodded and crossed the room to sit on one of the two small suede couches. He stared at his hands and tried to imagine them with fur and claws. It seemed impossible. He closed his fists and thumped them on his knees in an attempt to keep his focus.
“Walking,” he said, after a moment. “Will I have to learn to walk again? I mean, I’ll have double the legs and none of the arms.”
“It’s all instinctual. You’ll just know. Same goes for all movements and uses. When you need to run you’ll be able to, and when you overheat you’ll get the urge to pant, just like a regular wolf.”
“I’m glad. What about language. I know you heard me just fine after you shifted, but how will I talk to you? Can a shifter understand barks?”
“No, but in a lot of cases we can sense moods, which is often good enough. Other than that wolves who run together work out a series of gestures and sounds beforehand, and decide who will lead in cases where that’s necessary.”