The Persecution of the Wolves

by Lucy Felthouse

  “Christ, woman, you’ll be the death of me,” he said, rearranging himself before his jeans cut off vital blood supply.

  “Well…” She giggled. “What a way to go!”

  They quickened their pace through the village, and soon arrived at Matthew’s house. “Come inside a second,” he said, opening the door. “I’d invite you in properly, but I don’t know how long Isaac’s going to be out. And, let’s be honest, if we’re planning to get through a shit-ton of condoms, it’s probably better to do it in a house we know is going to remain empty, right?”

  Nodding, Sally followed him in, then waited in the hallway as he hurried up to his bedroom to grab the box of protection. When he returned, the box in his pocket, she was peering into the living room.

  “Want me to show you around?” he asked.

  She turned back to him. “Another time. Right now, I’d rather get you home and naked.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  They left the house and continued up the road to Sally’s cottage, where she let them in, then locked the door behind them.

  “Can I get you a—”

  Her words were cut off as he took her into his arms and melded his lips to hers. An overwhelming need for her had overcome him, spurring him on to kiss her even as she tried to ask him a question.

  “Later,” he said, parting from her briefly. “Later.”

  They kissed for several more long, hot seconds, until Matthew broke their embrace, reached down, and slapped Sally’s arse. “Upstairs with you, woman! Time’s a-wastin’.”

  “All right, all right, Mr Impatient.” Her words said one thing, but her tone, and the way she scurried up the stairs, implied she was just as eager as he was to get to the bedroom. Indeed, as he followed her into the room and closed the door, she tugged the curtains shut then stalked back over to him and put her hands on his chest. “Get ’em off then, gorgeous.” She stretched up on tiptoes, kissed him briefly, then trailed her lips down his chin and neck as she undid his belt and button.

  He pushed her gently away and tugged his top over his head, gratified when she moaned. His own top discarded, he undid the tiny buttons on her blouse—it took a great deal of willpower not to rip it open—and shoved it off her shoulders, then reached around to get rid of her bra, too.

  Now they were both topless, their gazes met for a second before they broke away to drink in the sight of each other.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said, toeing off his shoes, then reaching down to pull off his socks. “So incredibly beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, eyes glinting and lips parting temptingly. “You’re pretty damn sexy yourself.” With that, she removed the rest of her clothes, spurring him on to do the same.

  She turned and headed for the bed. “Don’t forget the condoms. You’re going to need one very, very soon.”

  After fishing the box in question from his pocket, he followed her, then dropped the protection onto the bedside cabinet before clambering onto the mattress. Cupping her jaw, he kissed her again, hoping he conveyed with that simple gesture just how much he wanted her. “That’s what you think, sweetheart. Earlier was a bit of a rush. But right now, neither of us have anywhere to be except here, so I intend to take my time. To explore every millimetre of your luscious body with my fingers and tongue. I want to stroke you, pinch you, rub you, lick you, bite you…”

  “Ooh,” Sally replied, tangling a hand in his hair and tugging it, sending sparks of pain dancing across his scalp, the resultant arousal pooling in his groin. “I think I just came already.”

  “Wow, I really am good, aren’t I? I’m just getting started. Hold on, gorgeous. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Isaac was manoeuvring his car out of a space at the supermarket when he spotted a familiar face. In the row opposite and a little further up, Nathaniel opened the bonnet of his vehicle and stared down at the engine, looking exasperated.

  Isaac drove over, then buzzed his window down. “Hey, Nathan, you got car trouble?” It was a silly question, but he didn’t see the point in offering to help, as his knowledge of cars was next to non-existent. Filling up with petrol and topping up the oil, radiator, and washer fluid was about as far as it went for him. Anything else he left to a professional.

  The other man’s head snapped around and the glare on his face disappeared when he realised it was Isaac. He stepped over to Isaac’s car and leaned an arm on the roof. “Yeah, I’m afraid so. Bloody thing won’t start. I’ve tried and tried, but it’s just chugging, not biting. Reckon it could be the spark plugs.”

  “Damn. I wish I could offer some useful advice, but my job is fixing people, not cars.” He smiled, hoping to lighten Nathaniel’s mood. Even frustrated, the man was gorgeous, his green eyes glinting and his cheeks rosy with irritation.

  Nathaniel returned his smile, then turned back to the exposed engine and stared at it for a second before pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket. “I have no idea what I’m doing either. I’m gonna have to call for a tow—I don’t have breakdown cover.”

  “Hey, no,” Isaac said hurriedly. “Don’t do that. It’ll cost a bomb. I have towing rope in the boot of my car. I can tow you back to the village and you can sort it from home, maybe get a mobile mechanic out or something. It’ll be slow going, probably, but we’ll get you home before your frozen stuff thaws out.”

  Nathaniel sagged with relief. “Wow, really? Thank you. You’ve saved my bacon. Literally.”

  They laughed, and Isaac popped the boot and got out of the car. “Use some of that bacon to make me a sandwich sometime and we can call it quits.”

  “You’re on.”

  Isaac retrieved the tow rope, then, between them, they secured the cars together and manoeuvred them into position, ready to leave the car park.

  “Okay,” Isaac called from his open window. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Isaac put his hand out of the window in a thumbs-up. When Nathaniel returned the gesture, he pressed his foot to the accelerator and started the slow journey home.

  Once they were out on the main road, minus all the parked cars to worry about, he relaxed a little. Inevitably, his mind wandered to the man trundling along a few feet behind him. He’d hardly seen Nathaniel since their interrupted kiss, and that wasn’t entirely an accident. The guilt and confusion had eaten at him, and instead of facing it head-on like a mature adult, he’d shoved his head into the sand. Other than work, he’d kept himself to himself, avoided the local shops and the pub, and done his best not to linger on what had happened between them—and what would have happened if Matthew hadn’t banged on the door.

  His brother hadn’t been around much either, as he’d been spending a lot of his spare time with Sally, who, it appeared, was staying in the village for a while longer. Isaac wasn’t entirely happy about the development, but figured it wasn’t worth another argument. He needed to pick his battles, and his brother’s fling wasn’t one of them. The bastard who was trying to ruin their lives definitely was.

  Sighing, he drummed his hands on the wheel. His head had been way better off in the sand, because now it had been pulled out into the open, it was whirling. Thoughts of Nathaniel, their kiss, what could have happened, what it would have been like, how wrong, how impossible it all was… It was a wonder he didn’t crash the car.

  For possibly the bazillionth time in his long years, Isaac cursed what he was. Yes, it had its perks, like the good health, strength, slow aging, long life. But its downsides far outweighed them. The secrecy, the lack of a love life. Granted, he and his brother were lucky in that many people around them did know, so it wasn’t as if they had to be careful in every single conversation they had, every move they made, to ensure they didn’t slip up, but still… a love life had grown to be something he missed more and more as the years went on.

  It seemed silly to miss something
he’d never had, but over four hundred years without ever knowing romantic love sucked. To watch people in the village meet, get together, fall in love, marry, have children, and live happy lives together was tough. And he’d seen it over and over again with different couples, different generations.

  Now his mind wandered to his brother. They’d never really discussed their feelings on the matter. It had been a case of them both knowing relationships were impossible, and that was the end of it. Until recently, with events stirring up many things, including their emotions. But how did Matthew really feel about it? Sure, his flings and fuck buddies would satisfy his physical needs, but it wasn’t the same as just spending time with someone, having fun, and seeing where it went. He seemed happy enough with Sally at the moment, despite knowing she wasn’t going to be around for much longer.

  There had been the thing with Mrs Smithers, of course, all those years ago. Not that Isaac really knew what had happened. Back then it had been almost unheard of for people to have sex out of wedlock, and as marriage had never been an option… had it just been a case of unfulfilled love? It hadn’t been unrequited; Isaac knew that much for sure. Mrs Smithers—or Miss Hart as she was back then—had been just as smitten with Matthew as he was her. Literally the only thing that had prevented them from courting and marrying had been Matthew’s nature—the one thing he couldn’t change. She’d eventually married someone else at her parents’ insistence, and Matthew had appeared to give his blessing, but Isaac couldn’t shake the feeling there was still a bond between them, something stronger than being long-time friends and neighbours. Perhaps, if his brother could turn back time, he’d do things differently.

  Isaac let out a growl. Christ, if it was possible for werewolves to exist, why couldn’t other types of mythical creatures exist—and magic? If he could wave a wand and cast a spell that could make his brother happy, that could make him happy, he would do it without a second thought, and definitely in spite of the consequences. Four hundred years was a bloody long time to be without love, and it seemed to get harder with every passing year.

  Thumping the steering wheel, he wished he could get all of this crap out of his head. It was depressing, overwhelming, and almost irrelevant compared to the other stuff going on, but it was impossible to ignore.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hopeless, helpless. Some nutcase was trying to fuck him and his brother over, and he couldn’t distract himself with a relationship, or even just casual sex. Everything looked so bleak, with no quick solution. A weaker person would have fallen into total despair by now, drowning their sorrows with booze or going out and getting laid.

  Normally, Isaac was the kind of guy who could see the good in people and situations, but even his ever-optimistic nature was taking a battering. He continued to wallow in his gloomy thoughts all the way back to Eyam, only pulling himself out of his funk when he carefully drew up outside Nathaniel’s house—he didn’t want a bump to make either of their days even worse.

  After shifting the car out of gear and pulling on the handbrake, Isaac jumped out, untied the rope connecting the cars together and threw it back in the boot. Then he moved towards Nathaniel’s vehicle, ready to help him push it into a safe position on the driveway.

  Once it was done, Nathaniel flashed Isaac a grateful smile. “I really appreciate you helping me out, mate. Seriously. Do you fancy that bacon sandwich I promised you? Ever since you mentioned it, I’ve been jonesing for one.”

  “Ooh, yeah. I’ll never say no to a bacon sarnie. Let me head home and put the shopping away, then I’ll be back. That all right?”

  “Not a problem. I’ve gotta get mine put away, too, then I’ll get the frying pan on, so don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t. See you in a few.” Isaac hurried to his car and got in, started the engine, then turned it around and drove home. He grabbed the shopping bags out of the car, then put the frozen food away first, followed by the rest of the groceries. He was nowhere near as careful and precise as normal, a fact he put down to the lure of a bacon sandwich. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was less about the sandwich and more about the man who was making it.

  It was fine. Yes, he fancied the pants off Nathaniel, but in spite of all his internal whinging about love—or lack of it—it could never happen. It just wasn’t safe or practical.

  Why weren’t there any other gay guys in the village, ones who were in the know? He’d be willing to give it a go then, see what came of it, whether he could cope with his partner aging much faster than him and eventually shuffling off this mortal coil, leaving him behind.

  Shaking his head, Isaac put the last item away, then grabbed his keys and left the house. He strode back through the village, his thoughts still tormenting him. He really, really had to put all this stuff out of his head. It was messing him up, conflicting him, making him argue with his brother. And nothing was worth risking his relationship with Matthew—if he didn’t have him, he was alone. Totally alone. They’d been the one constant in each other’s lives since they’d lost their parents and, as reluctant as they were to admit it, they needed each other.

  No. I’m not going to keep torturing myself. It’s not healthy. Nathaniel and I are friends. Yes, we had one little slip-up, but I’ll make sure that never happens again, make sure he doesn’t think it will happen again, and that’ll be the end of it. I’m over four hundred years old, for Christ’s sake, I’ve had enough sexual tension to last five or six lifetimes, I can handle a bit more. Eventually, it’ll get old, stale, and won’t be an issue anymore.

  In the meantime, he could enjoy someone’s company, like a centred, mature adult, without feeling the need to jump his bones—couldn’t he?

  When he reached Nathaniel’s house, he headed straight around to the kitchen door. Before he got chance to knock, the other man spotted him through the window and gestured him in with a wave of his spatula.

  “Mmm,” Isaac said as soon as he opened the door. “Smells good already. What is it about bacon, seriously? I mean, all kinds of pork cuts are nice, but bacon is plain addictive.”

  “It’s probably the crack they put in it.” Nathaniel grinned, flipping over the rashers as they sizzled in the pan. “It’s nothing but clever marketing, a plan to take over the world with delicious-smelling, addictive meat, one rasher at a time. Take a seat.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I think you’re right about the crack, you know. It’s the only logical explanation. Any news on your car?”

  “Far as I know, it’s still broken.” Nathaniel’s dimples appeared and Isaac hurriedly averted his gaze. That kind of behaviour would undo every vow he’d just made to himself.

  “I mean, have you called a garage yet?”

  “Bloody hell, man, give me chance. All I’ve done since you left is put away my shopping and start cooking this bacon. I’m not magic, you know.” He threw an amused glance over his shoulder.

  Isaac gave a wry grin before Nathaniel turned back to the frying pan. “Sorry. Let me know what happens when you do, won’t you? If you need another tow or a lift or whatever, just give me a shout. As long as I’m not working, I can help. And if I am working, Matthew probably will instead.”

  “Thanks, mate, that’s very good of you. How do you like your bacon?” He didn’t turn around this time, so Isaac took advantage and enjoyed the view of Nathaniel’s backside, clad in tight, dark-blue jeans. As he drank in the sight, he almost forgot to reply.

  “Oh, um, crispy as you can without it being burnt, please. Though, if that’s a problem, as long as it’s cooked, I’ll eat it. It is bacon, after all.” He hoped Nathaniel hadn’t noticed his delayed reply.

  “Not a problem at all. That’s how I like it, too. Hey, would you mind grabbing the sauces and plates, please?” He waved his spatula around again, indicating the correct cupboards.

  “Of course.” He tried not to snoop as he grabbed the items, then quickly came to the conclusion that even if he did
snoop, he wouldn’t find anything. Nobody kept interesting stuff in their kitchen cupboards.

  After handing the plates to Nathaniel, who nodded his thanks, Isaac put the bottles of red and brown sauce in the middle of the table, then pulled out two place mats and put them down opposite each other. Then, wondering if that implied romance, he moved one so they were next to each other. But that would put them awfully close together…

  He rolled his eyes. What happened to playing it cool? To just being friends and forgetting the rest? It was a bacon sandwich, for heaven’s sake, not a proposal of marriage.

  Stifling a sigh, he shifted the place mat once more, then sat down heavily. It was rapidly becoming clear to him that the only solution to his problem, albeit extreme, would be a lobotomy.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Nathaniel made a satisfied sound and turned off the burner he’d been using. Then he put the sandwiches together, leaving the top slices of bread next to them, ready for the sauces, and placed them on the table.

  “Ah, crap,” he said, stopping as he was halfway to sitting down. “I haven’t offered you a drink.”

  “Don’t worry. Just get your sandwich while it’s hot. To be fair, I could have made drinks while you were cooking. I guess we’re both a bit off it.”

  Shrugging, Nathaniel sat. “All right, if you say so.” They reached for the brown sauce at the same time, then went through a silly you-first-no-after-you exchange before Isaac gave in and grabbed the bottle, squirted a liberal amount onto his bacon and passed the bottle to Nathaniel.

  They dug in to their sandwiches in silence, their gazes meeting every now and again, raised eyebrows and wide grins conveying how their taste buds felt about the meal.

  “Wow,” Isaac said when he was done. “That was amazing, thank you.” Standing, he continued, “Right, I’ll let you get on, get your car sorted and whatnot. Just give me a shout if there’s anything you need.”