Falling for a Wolf Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  "How do you like the change? I tried to match it to the log cabin," he commented.

  I smiled and shrugged. "It's your house, you should be able to do anything you want to it."

  "But it doesn't ruin memories?" he wondered.

  I shook my head. "No. I bet if you hadn't fixed up this place it wouldn't even be here."

  He chuckled. "That is the unfortunate truth. The cabin was pretty terrible when I bought the property from Johnson four months back."

  "Well, let's see this bachelor pad," I suggested.

  Adam led the way and opened the door for me. I stepped inside onto the hardwood floor and my eyes widened. I beheld a cornucopia of collected oddities. On the walls were paintings of beautiful blue harbors and old ports. Beneath the small square windows were tables of small and large boxes with glass lids that showed off old gold watches, shark teeth, and bits of pottery inscribed with unknown languages and dark-inked images of people. Scattered among the boxes were whole vases with their pictures of ancient Greeks and Egyptians. Squished in the far-left back corner was a large bed made from hewn logs with a homemade quilt over its mattress, and beside the head was the local-stone fireplace. Its mantel was blackened with age and use, and on the opposite side to the bed was a small box of dry firewood.

  "Wow," I murmured.

  "Does that mean you approve?" Adam teased.

  I walked over to the table on my left and my eyes brushed over the large shark teeth. My fingers itched to touch everything, but my common sense won out. "Where'd you get some of this stuff?"

  "I am quite old," he reminded me.

  "So this is everything you've collected?" I guessed.

  He chuckled. "Not even close. I'm a bit of a hoarder, and this is just the part of my collection that most interests me at the moment."

  I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "So where's the rest? Some small storage unit?" I asked him.

  Adam shook his head. "No, it's all stored in a large home I bought years ago. My father's home, to be precise. I had it saved from demolition and restored, and now use it as a sort of museum that's open for private viewings." He came to stand beside me, and he picked up the small box case full of shark teeth. "Would you like to touch them? They're even sharper than they look."

  I blinked at him. "Should I?"

  "Why not?"

  "Well, they look a little old."

  "A few million years, but so long as you're careful I don't see why you can't touch any of these objects." To prove his point Adam opened the glass box and held the shark teeth toward me. "Go ahead, but be careful." I hesitantly reached out and tapped a finger on the top of one of the teeth. I yelped and pulled my hand away, and Adam chuckled. He nodded down at my finger. "I told you they were sharp." There was a bead of blood on the tip of my finger. Adam set down the box and walked over to a small, white medical kit with the red cross on the top. He pulled out a bandage and I noticed there was every imaginable supply in the kit from smelling salts to poison ivy ointment.

  "You're ready for a bruising," I commented.

  "I once studied for a doctorate in medicine, but found it difficult to put myself around so many wounded people without either attacking them or possibly infecting them with my own tainted blood. There was also the bit about sawing patients' limbs off to save them, but medicine has progressed beyond the nineteenth century techniques," he explained.

  I sighed. "Must be pretty hard living this long and not being able to do everything you want."

  "It still has its perks," he countered. He unwrapped the sterile bandage from its roll and mummified my finger. With a quick snip of scissors the wrapping was done.

  "Should I worry about shark cooties?" I joked.

  Adam grinned and shut the lid of the medicine box. "Only if you were a shark, but you should be fine. Feel free to entertain yourself with my belongings while I destroy your house."

  I scowled at him. "You said no knocking any walls down," I reminded him.

  He strode to the door and took it in hand as he looked over his shoulder at me. "I'll try my best, but the only guarantee I will give is I'll return at dinner. You can find food in the fridge." He nodded at a small, square fridge tucked against the foot of the bed beside a small chest. "But don't eat me out of house and home before I return," he teased.

  He left, and I was left with an uneasy feeling for the safety of my abode.

  Chapter 3

  I strode around the room and looked at all the oddities Adam collected over his centuries of life. Old silverware, maps, and meteorite rocks all caught my attention. There was even a whole bookshelf of first addition books, from Frankenstein to Stephen King. I peeked into the fridge and was pleased to find there was meat and bread to make a sandwich.

  As I knelt in front of the fridge a sound came to my ears. I tilted my head to one side and listened. Pat. Pat. The sound of rain. The storm had arrived, and with it came the dull sound of war drums as the thunder from the storm made war with any chance of a beautiful day. The victory was given to the storm as the rain fell harder and through the windows I spied the flash of lightning.

  I stepped outside onto the porch and watched the rain batter the ground and forest around the tiny cabin home. I had to admire Adam's skills as a carpenter. Not a single drop of rain slipped between the wooden shingles, and the inside of the ancient cabin was also as dry as the shark bone he showed me. I snatched up a book, plopped myself on one elbow onto the bed, and took to reading the time away until Adam returned with news of my home's destruction.

  The hours whiled away, and an hour before I expected him to arrive I lit a fire in the fireplace with the kindling. There must have been some magic in those pieces of wood because I actually managed to get a roaring fire started. Outside, the sun set behind the dark clouds and made the world an even darker place. I flicked a switch beside the door and was glad when the bulb overhead flickered on. With the return of light my curiosity was piqued once more, and I looked over his belongings.

  There were so many knick-knacks that one pass, or even ten, wouldn't have allowed me to see everything. My eyes spied the chest beside the fridge atop which lay the medicine box. The chest was of an ancient cherry wood with metal bands wrapped around the body parallel to the floor. The lid was also wrapped in metal bands that slipped beneath the front and back lips, and around the bottom edge. The chest was a foot tall and two feet wide. I slipped over and knelt before it. There was no lock and the lid opened without any problem.

  Inside were two compartments, one on the left and another on the right. The one on the left sparkled silver in the dim light. I'd found Adam's treasure trove of silver glitter he'd used to create my potent staff. I dipped my hand into the prickly, light sand of silver, and lifted it out to let the silver flow through my fingers and back into the compartment. It was a stream of beautiful light.

  I turned my attention to the second compartment and was disappointed to find it was filled only with a single bouquet of some dried flower. They were wrapped in a thick plastic bag. I picked up the bouquet, untied the string that sealed it shut, and gave it a sniff. The plant exuded a slight lemony scent, but one barely detectable to my nose. For a werewolf, however, this would probably smell deliciously sweet. I glanced around for a vase to put the bouquet in and noticed one on a table closest to the front door. Adam would be greeted with its sweet smell when he came home.

  I arranged the flowers in the dry vase and stepped back to admire my handiwork. It pretty much looked like a dry bouquet of flowers in an old vase, but I was still proud to put a womanly touch on the exotic atmosphere of the oddity-filled cabin. I sat down on the bed and awaited Adam's arrival.

  Ten minutes later there came the light tread of shoes on the boards outside the door. By this time even I could smell the scent of the dried flowers from across the room, and it made me a little lightheaded. The door swung open and Adam stepped inside. There was a wide smile on his face and his hair was soaked from the downpour that silhouetted his figure.
He stepped into the room and his smile faltered. He covered his face with his mouth and stumbled forward onto one knee.

  "Adam!" I cried out. I rushed to his side and grasped his shoulders in my hand. His breaths already came out in horrible pants, and when he raised his arm it shook like a leaf.

  "The windows!" he gasped.

  "The windows? You want them open?" I guessed. He furiously nodded his head, and I rushed to open all the windows. The damp smell and pattering sound of rain permeated the room.

  Adam slumped forward, but caught himself on his hands. He lifted his head with some effort and his eyes fell on the bouquet to his left. "Throw that. . .outside," he choked out.

  "But-"

  "Now!" he yelled. I rushed over, grabbed the bouquet and flung it through the nearest window. Adam tried to stand, but he stumbled and fell back to the floor. I hurried to him and tried to pull him toward the bed. He shook his head. "No, outside."

  I didn't argue this time, but helped him onto the porch. He weighed a half ton and I was glad to set him against the outside front wall. He slumped to the porch floor and leaned the back of his head against the wall. His chest moved up and down with frightening rapidity and his hands were balled into fists by his sides. I knelt beside him and touched one of his shoulders.

  "Did you want me to get Doc? I could drive down there-" He shook his head, but couldn't speak through his clenched teeth. I frowned and leaned against the wall at his side, but leaned forward to get a good look at his face. It was contorted into a painful grimace as though a thousand needles pricked him at the same time. "You want-" His breath evened and he slid across the wall toward me. He knocked shoulders with me and slumped over into my lap. "Adam!" I shook his shoulders, but there was no response. He still breathed, but he was out like a light.

  I grunted and pushed him back up so he lay against the wall. His eyelids were half-open and I could see his eyes were rolled back. His hands were no longer balled at his sides, but lay limp atop the wood posts beneath us. I tapped his cheeks hoping for a response, even a curse, but nothing. I recalled something that could help for just such an emergency, and hurried into the cabin. In a moment I was back out with a small vial in my hand filled with a strange, clear substance. I held the vial as far away from me as possible, popped the cork, and shoved the vial under his nose. The smelling salts did the trick.

  Adam's eyes shot open and he choked on the stench of the mixture of unknown smelliness. He pushed my hand away and leaned away from me to violently cough. "If you have any more strong-scented material up your sleeve I must ask that you dispose of it," he choked out.

  I plugged the vial and set it on my other side while Adam righted himself. His eyes were alert, but his face was ghastly pale and his hands trembled. "Mind telling me what caused that attack?" I asked him.

  "It was the plant, the wolf's bane," he explained. He coughed into his hand and a shudder convulsed his body. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled down at me. "I will be fine, but not for a few days."

  He looked so weak, so frail. I never thought a werewolf could be so near to death through the mere smell of a plant, and it was all because of my stupid curiosity. Tears sprang into my eyes and my own hand trembled. "I. . .I didn't mean to do this to you, really. I just thought it was a pretty flower-" He placed a finger against my lips as the tears streamed down my face.

  His eyes sparkled with life, a stark contrast to his shattered body. He brushed his thumb over my cheek and wiped away the streams of tears. "I still believe you could never intentionally do me harm, and I should have warned you to stay away from that chest. I'm just grateful you were not affected by the smell."

  My eyes widened. "Why would I be affected? You haven't-" I couldn't finish my question. The implication that he might have changed me against my will made me sick to my stomach.

  Adam shook his head. "I haven't changed you, but wolf's bane is more than a bane to werewolves. Its roots and odor are also toxic to humans, and if that bouquet hadn't been dried the mere act of touching it might have killed you."

  That made me feel worse because my curiosity had nearly killed us both. "I really didn't mean to be that stupid. I should have known there was something special about it and you wanted it in that chest."

  He leaned toward me and grasped my hands between his own. His eyes looked into mine and there was a shaky smile on his lips. "This was an accident. You meant no one any harm, and there will be no permanent damage. I merely need to rest for a few days to recuperate my strength.

  I cringed. "That long?"

  Adam chuckled. "At least we're not both fertilizer for Doc's garden." I shrank into myself, and he squeezed my hands. "Stop blaming yourself. You meant no harm," he repeated.

  "That's easy for you to say. You didn't just try to kill yourself and your-well, boyfriend with a poisonous weed," I countered. His eyes widened just slightly, and I blushed. "What? I can't say that?"

  Adam leaned forward and pressed his warm lips against mine. His body heat raced through my mouth, down to the tips of my toes and back up to my head. My mind swam in a puddle of warmth and my thoughts took on a more carnal tone. I whimpered when he broke us apart, and he pecked a teasing kiss on my lips before he pulled away and leaned back against the wall. Some life had returned to his cheeks and his smile was teasing.

  "Does that answer your question?" he asked me.

  Chapter 4

  I stared dumbly at him for a few moments before I shook myself of his enticing warmth. "What? Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I guess it does." I couldn't even remember the question. Adam laughed and broke our hands apart. He set his hands against the wall on either side of him and inched himself up. I frowned and grasped his shoulders. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  "Standing. I prefer not to slide my way back to your cabin," he explained.

  "You are not going back there. It's too far," I insisted.

  "I can't stay here. The dissipating scent is no longer toxic for you, but for my sense of smell the air is not healthy," he pointed out. He pushed through my hold and stood, albeit on shaky legs. Adam stumbled forward toward the path and caught hold of the upright post that held up the arched roof of the porch. I hurried after him and caught one of his arms. I meant to sling it over my shoulder, but he gently pushed me away. "I can get down on my own," he assured me.

  I nodded at the rain that still fell in large, steady drops. The ground was a water pool and the path gleamed with slick mud. "Stop being so stubborn and let me help you down. If you don't you'll probably end up having a hell of a time slipping and sliding on your stomach down the trail," I argued.

  "I want the changes I've made to be a surprise," he insisted.

  "What'll be a surprise is finding your body at the base of the path tomorrow morning if you don't let me help you," I persisted.

  "I will manage." Adam pushed himself from the post and stumbled into the rain. He walked ten feet before his unsteady legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

  I ran out to him in my socks and helped him stand again. "You were saying?"

  Adam sighed. "I was saying that I could allow you to help me if you didn't look inside," he replied.

  I snorted and turned him toward his cabin. "Good, I can get a clean pair of socks down there. Just let me put on my shoes and coat before I'm completely soaked."

  The coat and shoes were fetched, and in a few minutes we carefully made our way down the steep, muddy hillside. Our feet slipped and slid along the filthy brown ground, and more than once we found ourselves clinging to the other to keep from falling. Mostly it was me clinging to Adam, who still had a surprising amount of balance for a man-er, werewolf on such shaky legs. We made the journey mostly intact and arrived at my home soaked to the bone and my nose running as fast as the newly-created spring that ran down the hillside beside my cabin.

  We clattered onto the porch and Adam broke free from my grasp. I regretted the separation for two reasons: the first was the warmth of his body, and the
second was the comfort his strong body meant to me. I had to admit it was kind of nice having someone dependable to lean on, physically and emotionally. I'd have to try out more of this whole boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with him.

  Adam slipped into the cabin and came back with a couple pairs of socks. He stuffed them into his coat pocket and pulled off his coat, which he then held out to me. "You'll need this for the walk back."

  I turned to face the muddy slope and cringed. "Can't I stay on the porch?" I pleaded.

  "You'll catch your death of cold, but the way up won't be as difficult as down if you follow along that spring." He nodded at the new spring near the path. "The rocks along there will give you a foothold, and you should arrive at my cabin in no time."

  My shoulders slumped, but I saw he was dead serious and I took the offered coat. I slung it over my shoulders and was glad for the warmth his skin left on the inside. The outside was a thick sheep skin complete with a wool lining. "You kill the sheep yourself?" I teased.

  He chuckled. "Do you really want to know?"

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry I asked." I adjusted his coat atop my shoulders and sighed. "Well, here goes. If you don't here from me tomorrow then I'm probably face-down in the mud somewhere up the hill."

  Adam pointed at one of his pockets and pulled a phone from his own pocket. "Your phone's in my coat, and I have my own. Call me when you arrive."

  "Were you ever a boy scout in colonial times?" I asked him.

  He shrugged. "No, but I was in charge of a troop for a short while about fifty years ago."

  I trudged away from the promise of a comfortable bed and warm fire, and up the hill to the smelly cabin of my somewhat-boyfriend. The climb took twice as long as I hoped, but half as long as I expected. The rocks were slippery, but not nearly as bad as the trail itself. The spring tried to push me downstream, but like the strong salmon I flipped my tail and pressed on. Well, not quite my tail, but I reached Adam's cabin and stumbled beneath the protection of the porch.

  I leaned my right shoulder against the wall and gasped for breath. My pudgy body wasn't made for such stupid stunts and protested this maltreatment of extreme wet-sport exercise. Then the phone rang. My face fell and I pulled the phone from my pocket. The name on the phone read 'Stud.' I pressed the answer button and held it to my ear.