Bite Me Tender

by Kate Lowell

  Dammit, this is down to the OCD. No wonder he can’t handle the idea of Connor. Fuck!

  He’d ruined it. All because he couldn’t get his head out of his ass long enough to really look at the situation from Glyn’s point of view. He got to the last cupboard and stared at it.

  In the end, he took both the bottle of rum and the bottle of bourbon with him and went out to Glyn’s sunroom, the one Levi had built for him last summer after they’d finally scraped together enough money to buy a place in town. He sat in one of the battered old chairs, unscrewed the cap of the first bottle, and swallowed close to a pint of the expensive rum at the first go.

  What else could he do except get completely plastered and spend the night throwing his guts up? As he sat on the worn fabric, with all Glyn’s carefully tended plants hovering over him accusingly, a night spent worshiping the porcelain god seemed like a fitting punishment. The hangover tomorrow would be the cherry on top.

  In the moments before the first warm flush of alcohol hit, he hoped cruelly that Connor would die tomorrow night instead of changing.

  This sudden bloodlust should have bothered him, even with the alcohol tracing its comforting path through his veins, but he simply could not bring himself to care anymore. He’d go tomorrow night, do his duty, and—well, maybe Glyn had the right idea. Maybe he’d put the house and his share of the bar up for sale and go someplace else. He’d keep the farm, though. The pack needed that land to run on.

  If I begged hard enough, would he have me back? The two of us, in New York again? He’d even be willing to turn a blind eye if Glyn wanted to go back to his one-night stands for a while. It would hurt, but everything he’d done to Glyn over the past year had been terrible as well. Small enough price to pay for forgiveness and a future together.

  Levi reached to his left and pinched a leaf, then brought his fingers to his nose. Peppermint. He smiled. It was so typical of Glyn that each of the plants was useful, could be eaten or used to season food. No room for things that were only ornamental—Glyn had no patience for anything that didn’t pull its weight.

  His smile faltered. Levi hadn’t been pulling his weight, had he?

  The afternoon light had faded to midnight blue by the end of the first bottle. Levi’d staggered to the downstairs bathroom a few times, each trip a little longer, a little less steady, his original beeline gradually coming to resemble a path created by a half dozen snakes on drugs.

  This is your fault, isn’t it? He poked mentally at his wolf, who was as drunk as Levi, stretched out on its figurative back with its legs pointing shamelessly in all four directions and its tongue hanging limply out the side of its mouth. The wolf groaned and growled at him before going back to whatever drunken things metaphysical wolves dreamed of when completely tanked.

  Levi grunted and opened the bourbon.

  He was sitting on the floor of the sunroom, looking up through the skylights and wondering how much booze it would take to stay drunk right through tomorrow night, when Bryan found him.

  “Shit, Levi, how much have you had? I could smell you from the front door.”

  Levi glanced down at the bottle in his hand and then squinted at the empty one a few feet away on the tiled floor.

  Bryan crouched beside him and reached for the bottle. “I take it you and Glyn are still fighting.” They wrestled briefly over the bourbon until Bryan gave up with a hiss of frustration.

  “He left me.” Levi took his time, pronouncing each sound as carefully and precisely as Glyn might in the same situation. “Signing over the house, the bar. Leaving.” He took a swig from the bottle, ignoring the trickle that ran down his chin to soak his shirt.

  “Shit. Leaving, as in leaving town? Leaving our territory? Damn it, you know we can’t let him do that!”

  Levi’s head wobbled as he tried to focus on Bryan. “Try ’n’ stop him. More luck stopping a tank.” He let his head fall back on the seat of the chair, currently the only thing keeping him even remotely vertical. The room started to list.

  Oh fuck, that’s not good.

  If Glyn had been around, he’d have shaken his head, laughed, and then set Levi up with a bucket while he curled up in the armchair with one eye on the Journal and the other on Levi. Back when they’d first started, he could even have done something witchy about the spins. That had stopped not long after Glyn had followed Levi home, as the OCD got worse and they realized together that Glyn in a small town wasn’t much better than Levi in the big city.

  But he stayed anyway. Because he loves you. Moron.

  Levi came back to himself as Bryan said something about pack secrets. “Wha’?”

  “Fuck, you are so wasted. I don’t know why I’m talking to you.” Bryan stood up. “Never mind. We’ll deal with it. If you’d just put your foot down with him, none of this would have happened. For a guy who claims to be desperately in love, I’m surprised you’d let it get to the point where the pack is forced to do this.”

  Where…? What? The point of Bryan’s lecture finally snapped home, and Levi suddenly felt very, very sober. “No, Bryan. Not on the table at all. He’s a witch—he’s not going to run around selling our story to the tabloids.” He tried to get to his feet, only to stumble and fall back again. Adrenaline mixed with the alcohol to create an eerie sensation of being incredibly focused and completely removed from the situation. Except for his fear for Glyn.

  Bryan stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “It’s not my call. Not even our pack’s call. I’m sorry, Levi.” He looked down at the floor and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Levi scrambled to follow Bryan as he headed for the front door. “Bryan!”

  Bryan turned around, his expression of pity turning instantly to fear. Levi was drunk, but not that drunk anymore. It took a hell of a lot of booze to knock a werewolf off its feet for long and even more when they were as big as Levi.

  “What do you think you’re going to do?” Levi swayed forward to brace his arms on the frame of the door into the hallway.

  Bryan paled, and a thin layer of sweat sprang out on his face. “I have to tell the pack. This isn’t a new rule.” He backed slowly down the hall, eyes fixed warily on Levi’s face.

  “No, you won’t.” Levi followed him, his feet surer with each step. His wolf shook itself awake at the promise of blood in the air, and its excitement showed in Levi’s grin. “Not a word. Or I’ll hunt you down and eat your living bones.” The thought excited his wolf, and he spent a precious few moments wrestling it back down.

  Some of the struggle must have shown on his face, because Bryan flattened himself against the wall beside the front door, his fear-clumsy fingers slipping repeatedly on the knob as he tried to open it without taking his eyes off Levi. “Levi, we’ve been friends a long time. Think about this.”

  “I have.” Levi moved to stand right in front of Bryan and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Now, do as I say, and get out of here before I change my mind and decide to eat you anyway.” He let the wolf up far enough for a growl to crawl out between his lips and ran his tongue over Bryan’s pulse, tasting the bitterness of his fear. “Better go, Bryan. I think you need to run.” Levi was still too drunk to be frightened at the calm tone, but Bryan wasn’t. He turned and clumsily wrenched the door open, stumbled over the sill, and ran to his car.

  Levi watched him go, feeling oddly disconnected. There was going to be violence tonight; the scent of it hung in the air like smoke. He closed the door and locked it before leaning against the stair railings to think.

  And then he let the wolf rage.

  * * * *

  Glyn dreamed. It wasn’t a normal dream but more like the ones he used to have in the coven if he fell asleep in a charged room and his soul went swirling along the lifestream until it got so far his body forced it back.

  All the potential futures lay spread out in front of him, clearer than they ever were in real life. He walked along the tracks, naked, his bare feet tingling with the power flowing underne
ath them.

  The first path he chose led him straight to Levi’s death under the claws of another wolf, older and grayer but somehow victorious.

  His second choice too led to Levi’s death and to the deaths of many of the pack, people Glyn had never cared about but whom he accepted because Levi was fond of them.

  A third, a fourth, and a fifth led to futures where Glyn was absent, though he sensed an echo of himself in the distance. In two of them, Levi and Connor slept curled around each other.

  He raced down the paths, frantically searching for one, just one potential future that would let him keep what was dear to him. Each path grew steeper, more difficult to navigate, and the air thickened and caught at him as if determined to keep him from his happiness.

  More paths leading to Levi’s death or to Levi living alone in the farmhouse or to Levi not even in town but in some place Glyn didn’t recognize.

  In stories, the hero always had to sacrifice something he held dear in order to win in the end.

  What do I have to give up to find the right path?

  When he put his foot on the next track, he found himself.

  Marking Territory

  Full-moon night. The farmyard was filled with cars, moonlight gleaming on chrome and windows, soaking into cloth seats. Springtime chill was settling in, the dew on the grass turning slowly to frost as the pack milled around the wide swath of lawn behind the farmhouse. The smoke from the barbecue drifted almost unnoticed across the yard—most of those in attendance were interested in meat much less well done.

  Levi sat on a deck chair at the edge of the driveway, picking at the label of the beer bottle in his hand. The pull of the moon had already called a few of his pack into wolf form. They padded around the clearing, waiting for him to change and lead them on the hunt. He was still working on convincing them they didn’t need to wait for him, but old habits died hard. It normally wasn’t an issue; he was as eager as any of them to run. Problem was, for the first time ever since he changed, he wasn’t in the mood. The prey he wanted was holed up in a hotel in town, probably looking up flights to New York at this very moment.

  He’d screwed up royally. Even the morning’s monumental hangover and Bryan’s nervous avoidance couldn’t cut the pain.

  With a sigh, he finished the beer and put the bottle on the ground beside the chair. The alcohol wasn’t helping, except maybe in a hair-of-the-dog way. Trashing the house last night hadn’t been exactly a bright idea either, but he’d gladly take his lumps explaining it to Glyn if he could have a second chance.

  He caught a glimpse of Connor roaming in the crowd, never too close but never far either. His scent wove through the assorted farm and pack smells, teasing at Levi’s nose. It was probably a smart strategy on the council’s part to bring him here tonight. Even if Levi refused him, there might be someone else in the crowd who would take him on, someone who was unexpectedly strong or would find they had a knack for getting a big enough piece of their own wolf into the candidate on the first bite. Enough that it wouldn’t burn itself up in healing its host and die off before it could be fed again And someone with enough control not to kill the person volunteering for the bite.

  Guilt pricked at him for that momentary thought last night. It wasn’t Connor’s fault—he seemed like a great guy—but Levi didn’t want the one he changed to be Connor. The more he thought about it, the more wrong it all seemed to him. He was on the point of hopping in his truck and heading back to town to beg Glyn to reconsider and try again, even had the keys in his hand with his finger on the remote start, when a familiar set of headlights snaked down the road and drove up the long driveway. Glyn’s Civic pulled onto the grass on the front lawn and parked neatly parallel to the front porch of the house, carefully avoiding the weed-filled flowerbeds. The headlights went out as the rumble of the engine cut off.

  Glyn and his grandmother got out of the car and stood in the suddenly harsh moonlight. They exchanged a look and closed the doors, then turned as one to walk toward Levi. Levi felt his breath catch in this throat. God, he’s beautiful. Wild, like the wolf was, despite all he did to control it. Levi felt himself respond, his nostrils flaring to catch Glyn’s scent, his cock hardening as he watched the long, slender limbs eat up the distance between them.

  If only it would be so easy to deal with the distance between them emotionally.

  Glyn stopped directly in front of him. “Is he here?”

  Levi knew who he meant. “Yes. The rest of the council brought him.” Levi held his breath, waiting for the bomb to go off.

  It didn’t. “I see. What do you plan to do?”

  Levi reached out to stroke Glyn’s cheek, then farther down, to touch the edge of a scar peeking out from the collar of Glyn’s T-shirt. “I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you anymore if it isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need a new wolf tonight to prove that we’re strong.” He swallowed, his throat tight, and asked the question that was burning a hole in him. “Why are you here?”

  Glyn’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and touch Levi in return. “You can’t make a choice if the choice isn’t there to be made. I’m here so you know the choice is too.”

  “Thank you,” Levi whispered. Maybe he could make this work. “Are you sure it will work this time?”

  Glyn shrugged almost nonchalantly, though Levi knew him well enough to read his uncertainty in the set of his shoulders and the way his eyebrows pinched ever so slightly together. “Who knows? All we can do is try.”

  Levi realized Glyn was doing his best to come to terms with the possibility that he would never change, and it wrung Levi’s heart, even as it made him fall more in love. He leaned down to kiss him in gratitude.

  Glyn’s hand on his chest stopped him. “And the council?”

  Levi paused. “I don’t know. I mean, you and I, we made this decision together, that a council was the right thing to do. If I go back on it, what does that make me?”

  Glyn pressed his lips in a tight line and looked away briefly. One hand clenched into a fist, then straightened with glacial speed. Hesitantly he reached out and cupped Levi’s cheek. “You’re right. I’m an ass. Do what you need to do. Just…” And for the first time in Levi’s experience, Glyn seemed to have trouble finding the words he wanted. “I can’t stay there if the decision is him. You understand that, don’t you?” His eyes pleaded with Levi for understanding. “I don’t want you to suffer for my nature.”

  Levi bowed his head, his hand rising of its own volition to press over Glyn’s. “I know. I don’t think I could watch it either, if it was you. I’d never expect you to stand for it. Will you…” Now it was his turn to search for the right words. “Will you come back, after?”

  The corners of Glyn’s mouth turned down, and his voice shook. “I don’t know. I’ll try. But I can’t promise more.”

  Levi nodded. It was more than he’d had a few minutes ago. Enough to be going on with, as his grandfather used to say. He turned his head and laid a gentle kiss in the center of Glyn’s palm, repressing the urge to throw the other man over his shoulder and carry him into the farmhouse when Glyn’s entire body shuddered in desire. Levi’s wolf pricked its ears, wiggling closer, tongue lolling in anticipation. Glyn laughed and looked right at Levi.

  No, not at. Inside.

  Glyn pressed his hand to the center of Levi’s chest again. “Well, are you done fighting me? Have we played your game long enough for you to realize that there are consequences?” But he wasn’t speaking to Levi. The wolf whined a response, and Levi was sure that if it had had a physical body at that moment, it would have wagged its tail and jumped up to lick Glyn’s chin. Glyn smiled and shook his head. “Yes, it was fun, but it needs to end now.” Then he said a few more words, but not in English or the few words of Spanish Levi knew, the pleasant expression on his face transforming to something sober and a little angry.

  The wolf sat back, surprised, and seemed to become thoughtful. Glyn leaned in for another kiss, openmou
thed and hungry, his arms winding around Levi’s neck to pull them together. Levi wrapped his arms around him, kissing back as if he might never have the chance again, before pulling away. As much as he wanted to stay there with Glyn, the moon was calling, and his wolf was restless. Time to run.

  A flicker of light through the trees lining the old country road caught his eye, followed by the earsplitting roar of an eight-cylinder engine running wide open. He pulled Glyn close, instinct setting his body between that of his lover and the potential threat. No one else should have been coming—his entire pack was here.

  Cars, a whole line of them, made the turn and began to climb the long driveway toward the farmyard. The pack formed up behind him as individuals noticed the advancing stream of headlights. Levi whistled shrilly, catching the attention of those few who hadn’t already noticed the newcomers.

  He knew that car, the one at the head of the line. The ’69 Mustang had a distinctive profile, the aggressive jut of the hood scoop like an outthrust jaw on an undersized head—a lot like its owner. McCourt was paying them a visit, on their territory, on full-moon night.

  The rest of the council stepped up to flank him. For once, he didn’t grouse about them putting him in the center like some titular hero. This was challenge, and if there was one thing his wolf knew about, it was challenges.

  McCourt’s pack parked their cars, blocking the driveway completely. The driver’s door of the Mustang opened, and McCourt unfolded himself from the depths. He stood behind the still-open door, long, muscled arms resting casually on the roof and the top of the door. A heavy frosting of silver in his hair glinted in the cold moonlight, the only part of his appearance that gave away his age. The rest of him was lean and solid muscle, like a man thirty years his junior.

  Like Levi.

  “What are you doing here, McCourt?”

  McCourt just grinned. “What? You tellin’ me you didn’t get my message the other day? And I thought I was so clear.”