by RJ Blain
I bared my fangs at her and growled to display my opinion on her request.
She swatted my snout. “No. You’re going to do as you’re told without snapping at me.”
One little nip wouldn’t hurt, would it? A single drop of my blood could spread my virus to her, a subtle claim on her no one could reverse.
If my virus could speak, it would’ve been singing, Mine, mine, mine.
The click of a safety disengaging alarmed me into rising to all fours, snarling as I searched for the source of the sound. Several cops pointed their weapons at me, waiting in tense silence. I stood and straightened to my full height, restraining the urge to shake.
I didn’t want to infect them, but if they came near my boss while armed, I’d rip them apart.
“Easy, Dale. You’re soaked in blood. It needs to be neutralized.” My boss patted my arm. “Officers, he’s not the issue. The pack attacked him. He’s a CDC employee—one of my contractors. Jerome, please introduce your pack to the police while I take care of Dale.”
“You got it, Ethel.”
Since standing hurt, I crouched at my boss’s feet, snarling and snapping my teeth whenever anyone thought about closing closer. When growling tired me, I kept my teeth visible in silent warning.
I meant to stay on guard for as long as needed, but my virus flew the white flag of surrender. Without it sustaining me, I sank into a semi-conscious daze, aware of only the presence of the woman I had no business desiring but needed anyway.
Chapter Two
Jerome prodded me with his shoe, and I landed a bite on his sneaker. I spit out a chunk of leather and flattened my ears.
“You need to shift, Dale. There’s no way we’re going to drag your fat ass around. You’re caked in neutralizer, too.”
My boss snickered. “You’re rather pink and sparkly right now. It’s a good look on you.”
Pink and sparkly beat electric purple and blue any day of the week. With a tired groan, I lurched to all fours, braced, and shook out my fur. “I don’t need to be dragged, thank you. I can walk.”
“You’ll pass out in my truck on the way home. Your virus is tapped. Shift to your wolf so we can carry you once you go down. You’re coming to my place until we’re sure you won’t snap like that crazed bitch and do something you regret. Don’t worry about her, though, she’ll be all right; she’s so hopped up on pixie dust right now she won’t be a threat to anyone other than herself. I thought you’d appreciate knowing. Unless you press charges, she’ll get off light.” Jerome prodded me again. “Once your virus recovers, you’ll need to be questioned.”
Talking helped me ignore the sensation of my skin tightening and itching as my virus worked to heal my battered body. “There’s not much to tell. I did my rounds. The hybrid female approached me. She wanted to know where the male she’s courting was. I told her to contact the CDC. She decided she needed collateral. When I said no, things got violent.”
“Well, you put up a fight, I’ll give you that much. You tossed a young one into a car so hard you about killed him. He’ll probably survive. If he doesn’t, well, no loss there. Only an idiot attacks a pack wolf and expects an easy win. You got a better look at them than we did, I suspect. Do you believe any of them attacked the bitch’s male?”
I grunted and barely avoided shaking my head and tearing open the wounds on my throat again. “I don’t know.”
“Shift to your wolf form, Dale,” my boss ordered. “We need to see how well you’re healing.”
With no way to escape exposing my humiliating fur color, I sighed, crouched so I wouldn’t fall over during the shift, and obeyed. It took longer than I liked, more evidence my virus was nearly tapped out trying to keep me alive. I flopped onto the asphalt with a pained groan.
“Fuck. He’s still bleeding.” With no fear of contamination, my boss ran her fingers through my fur around my throat. “Check his leg.”
Jerome batted my boss’s hand aside and grabbed me by the scruff with one hand, pinning me with his weight while he leaned over me to check my hind leg. “It’s still bleeding, too. I’ll call in a few members of the pack. Hopefully, Allison and I can provide enough blood, but I’d feel better having the others on hand if something goes wrong. Where should we take him?”
“Nowhere; too high of a risk of spreading the virus. We’ll do the transfusion here, wait for the wounds to close, and hose the lot down again. It’s your lucky day, Dale. You’re about to get a hit of the best pixie dust money can buy, and I get to be the one holding your leash. It’ll be a literal leash, too. We’re going to have a great time.”
“But I was going to take him home with me,” Jerome protested.
“Not while he’s under the influence of pixie dust you’re not. He’s going home with me.”
My flagging virus liked any attention she gave me, but I worried. When my boss sounded so pleased and eager to defy Jerome, she was causing trouble for someone. Me. The kind of trouble I wanted wasn’t up on offer, but as I had no real say in the matter, I surrendered without a fight and hoped for the best.
Sometimes, I was an idiot like that.
My pack laughed at me, and I couldn’t blame them for their mirth. In the bright spotlight illuminating the parking lot, there was no way for me to hide the color of my fur. Jerome’s mate, Allison, laughed the hardest. “This explains so much. Most of us would kill to have the hybrid form, but I can totally understand your hesitancy with that fur color. How long have you had access to the hybrid form, Dale?”
I refused to meet her gaze, turning my head to discover my ex-girlfriend, her mate, Pete, and all six of their puppies staring at me intently.
“Yes, do tell, Dale,” my ex said. “Just how long have you been a hybrid?”
Thanks to the transfusion, which fed Jerome’s blood into my right forepaw, I couldn’t run away and hide, which was my preferred method of dealing with uncomfortable questions. The other way, a silent, reproachful glare, had lost its effectiveness.
“Don’t be so shy,” she muttered. “Are you seriously telling me one of your parents is a hybrid?”
My boss placed her hand on the top of my head, pressing down with enough force I froze, uncertain what had stirred her ire. “Neither of Dale’s parents are hybrids. Until now, the source of his father’s infection was unknown.” When Dana didn’t reply, my boss lifted her hand and turned her attention to the line feeding me a bag of blood stolen from Jerome. “I’ve heard of lycanthropes with this color strain, and they all come from the same place. It’s more unusual that Dale’s father isn’t the same color.”
My boss knew how my father had contracted the lycanthropy virus? I lifted my head and pricked my ears.
“A hot spot near Ocean City,” she explained. “It had a one percent infection rate and flared for a single day before burning out. Your father puts the known count of infected up to nine individuals, assuming we can confirm the strain through a blood test. You might just be an oddity.”
I flatted my ears and whined.
She rolled her eyes. “A handsome oddity. Does that make you feel better? Come on, Dale. I never pegged you as the type to have self-esteem issues. You’re usually so confident and comfortable with yourself.”
While it pleased me I’d managed to fool her, I worried she’d be disappointed in the truth. Me? Confident? I couldn’t even shift to my wolf without wanting to hide.
“You think he’s handsome?” my ex blurted.
I flinched at the astonishment in Dana’s voice, but I didn’t quite dare to growl, not with Pete and her puppies nearby.
“Darlin’, if you weren’t aware he could leave a trail of dropped panties and panting ladies in his wake, you haven’t been paying attention.” My boss huffed, shook her head, and checked the bag. “Next bag, Jerome. Still your blood?”
“There’s one of mine left. Allison has three of hers waiting in the cooler. If that doesn’t jumpstart his virus, he’s going to need at least a week of peace and quiet to recover.”
“Meter,” my boss ordered.
I growled and attempted to tuck my paws under me so I wouldn’t be subjected to yet another poke. Jerome joined forces with my boss, holding me by the scruff so she could stab me and check my virus levels.
“Still low, but not dangerously so,” she reported. “Do the rest of the bags while I call the neutralizer tanker back so we can hose the place down again. Allison, think you can run the rest of the bags into him at one time so we aren’t here all night?”
Jerome’s mate snickered. “He has four paws, so I don’t see why not. He’s going to be so hopped up on the virus you really will need to dose him with pixie dust to control him once we’re done.”
“I’m calling in for the dust along with the tanker. If I have to dose him, he really is coming home with me since I’m the only idiot in the area with the right training to handle someone under the influence of the highest grades of pixie dust. Try not to let him give you the slip while I’m gone. There’s been enough excitement for one day.”
Infecting an already infected lycanthrope with high concentrations of the virus usually led to trouble, a blood bath, or both. Sometime between stabbed with a meter and stuffed full of virus-contaminated blood, my boss lived up to her threat of dosing me with the type of pixie dust the CDC kept under lock and key.
Within minutes of the injection, I went from snarling my discontent to trying to purr. Purring wasn’t one of my skillsets, and it emerged more as a rumbly growl, but I tried anyway.
Why couldn’t wolves purr? I wanted to purr.
At my boss’s order, someone hosed me down with neutralizer, and I rolled in the foam, wagging my tail and kicking my paws at the way it made my skin tingle.
“Dale, please come here,” she ordered.
As neither my virus nor I saw any need to disobey and rather enjoyed being closer to her, I surged to my paws, bounded over, and leaned against her legs. She sighed, which I took as an invitation to flop over onto her feet and show her my belly.
“Are you really sure you want to handle him alone, Ethel?” Jerome knelt beside me and scratched under my chin. I melted under his affection, and he laughed. “Pixie dust is great. I never would’ve guessed Dale enjoys attention. That’ll make it easier down the road, assuming we can convince him to wear his fur coat more often.”
“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” my boss promised. “Are any of your pack fighters free tomorrow? I’m going to need a lycanthrope to cover his shift, and I’ve already booked the rest of my contractors. I’m not going to put someone who can be infected on this shift, not when there’s been two attacks in as many days.”
“Standard comp?”
“Double plus hazard pay; with two confirmed attacks, I can classify it as high risk. I can authorize two on the shift if two of your pack are available.”
“Allison? Think you can take off work tomorrow?”
“You betcha. I’d love to get my claws on the asshole who started this mess. No one fucks with our beta and gets away with it.” Allison paused. “Except for you, Ethel. You can fuck with him as much as you want. I bet he’d like it.”
“Allison!” my ex squealed.
“Give me a break, Dana. Ethel’s the only one Dale even looks at, and he’s too damned professional to make any moves on her because she’s his boss. It ain’t anyone’s fault other than your own that you let him go. You have an entire litter of puppies and a good mate now, and it’s not like it matters that you sampled the wares. No one cares, really. Do you care, Ethel?”
I sure as hell cared they were talking about me like I was a prized specimen worthy of being passed around.
Wait. What? The idea they were even interested in gossiping about me like I was a stud worth passing around stopped me dead in my tracks, especially as the conversation involved the one woman my virus desired. It didn’t help—or hurt—that I wanted her, too.
My boss chuckled. “Not at all. I’m only concerned about actual competition.”
She was what? I blinked, my mouth dropping open, wondering if I’d heard her correctly. Jerome scratched me behind an ear, and I slumped to the asphalt with a happy groan.
“Ladies, if you’re going to discuss his prowess, I recommend you do so when Dale’s coherent enough to enjoy it. The man could use a little stroking of his ego.”
Allison leered, directing most of it at my boss. “Of his ego, huh?”
“Not helping,” Jerome muttered.
“Sure I am. I’m making it perfectly clear Ethel shouldn’t be stroking just his ego. She can stroke his ego all she wants, as far as I’m concerned. I just thought I’d impress upon them both they have our approval. Wasn’t that nice of me? I’m being nice. You’re always telling me I should be nicer to people. I was just doing as you wanted.”
Jerome got to his feet, caught his mate in a headlock, and dragged her away. “Do whatever you want with him, Ethel. Don’t listen to this menace. Just return my beta in reasonable physical and emotional health when you’re finished with him.”
“Reporting time for tomorrow’s shift is ten. Make sure your fighters aren’t late.”
“Allison and I will stand in, and I promise you, we won’t be late. We’ll see you in the morning.”
My boss patted my shoulder. “Come on, Dale. Let’s get out of here before someone else decides to aim their perverted commentary in our direction.”
Chapter Three
When my boss ordered me to relax, I obeyed in the best way possible. I took a nap in her car, surrounded by her scent. Some commands were worth following, and I would’ve done as she said without hesitation, even without the pixie dust.
Jerome was probably right, though. Pixie dust was the best.
Pixie dust won me an invitation into my boss’s bed, and in the privacy of her home, her perfume couldn’t hide the truth. She was infected with lycanthropy, too. When I thought about it, all the signs had been there from the start. She had no fear of me or any other lycanthrope. There was nothing for her to fear.
The only thing she needed to worry about was picking a mate, and as a rare unmated infected female, she decided which male won her. Once word spread she was unmated, every single lycanthrope in the area would be after her. Looks didn’t matter to a lycanthrope, either, although I found her more attractive than most.
My virus probably had something to do with that.
If anyone found out she was an unmated lycanthrope, I wouldn’t be able to compete, not against so many other wolves. Even if I could, she was my boss. Wait. If I quit, just like I wanted, she wouldn’t be my boss, which meant I could compete for her. Defective fur coloration aside, I did have access to the hybrid form. Mated to me long enough, her virus would develop to allow her to access the hybrid form, too. If the hybrid form enticed her, I’d sacrifice my dignity and prance around in my electric purple and blue coat for however long she wanted.
That led me back to quitting. I needed to quit first and prance second. If she didn’t drive me off, shoot me, or otherwise reject my displays of interest, I’d figure something out. Ditching my job so I could attempt to convince my boss she wanted me around permanently hadn’t been a serious option before.
Then she’d talked about panties being dropped in my wake. While I had no interest in the panties of other women, my virus was more than interested in discovering what sort of panties she wore, if she’d drop them for me, and if she’d accept my posturing.
Allison had spoken the truth, and I wanted to know what my boss thought about it. Ethel Frankwell was the only woman I ever looked at twice. She also snored.
I’d heard softer trains.
Learning to sleep next to the equivalent of an ongoing explosion hadn’t been a part of my plans, but I’d make do. It occurred to me her snoring had woken me. Yawning, I lifted my head for a better look around. A dim glow from the hallway illuminated most of the room, which was a disaster of dirty laundry. If she cared I could see her lingerie, I’d be in trouble when she woke
up. From corner to corner, lacy bras and panties waited to be cleaned up and run through the wash, which I determined was the primary source of her scent marker.
I doubted her lingerie did a good job of covering her.
Under no circumstances would I peek under the blanket to discover what she wore to bed. To keep a firm leash on myself and my virus, I wiggled off the bed, stretching out my forepaws so I wouldn’t thump to the floor.
She kept snoring.
I shifted to my hybrid form and prowled around her home, inhaling in her scent and memorizing her lycanthropy marker. To my astonishment, she lived in a tiny trailer. My apartment wasn’t much better, something I’d need to change if I somehow lured my boss into accepting me as her mate. While her trailer was small, rather battered, and old enough to tempt me into breaking things to give her a good excuse to move in with me, she had a washer and dryer tucked into a nook in the hallway.
Restless energy coursed through me, and the simple but tedious task of doing laundry would give me a chance to relax and regain control over my virus, which wanted me to return to bed with my boss, wake her, and test the waters to see if she was interested in me as a prospective mate.
Doing her laundry wouldn’t land me in too much hot water, would it? It was challenging to tiptoe when I weighed in at eight hundred pounds, but I managed, stealthily picking my way through her room and retrieving every piece of clothing I could get my paws on, careful to avoid tearing anything with my claws.
The nightstand clock informed me it was eight in the morning, which would trigger panic in my boss when she realized she’d slept in. Then again, I’d been convinced my boss never slept; no matter how early I showed up at the office, she was always there before me.
Stealing her clothes, I sorted them, taking my time checking labels so I wouldn’t ruin anything before starting the first load. Leaving the machine to work its magic on her laundry, I searched her trailer for my phone, wallet, and keys without success.