by R. Cooper
They should have taken a squad car, Ray thought distantly. They could have locked Cal in.
But he didn’t look, trusting in Penn to keep Cal safe while he searched the space around them. Kirkpatrick, or some Were, was close. He smelled water and then soil/fur/strength.
He forgot about his gun and felt a moment’s discomfort, not quite agony, as his hands shifted enough to let his claws out. Behind him, he heard Cal’s soft, “Whoa” and the sound of Penn drawing her weapon, checking her spare clip, because you didn’t need special bullets to kill a werewolf, you just needed enough bullets.
Ray twitched. He also smelled blood. Rabbit. Nothing human. Nothing like hatred. Just a hunt. But he didn’t relax, and at the first hint of movement, he stepped forward. The other Were came forward out of the trees at the same time, his hands up.
“T. Kirkpatrick? Come on out, real slow.”
“Well, well, well.” The light hit Kirkpatrick as he came nearer, revealing a tall young man with blazing red hair and freckles. He was barefoot, with loose jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt that he’d obviously thrown on, that probably wouldn’t have covered his wide chest even if he had buttoned it. Ray nearly relaxed a fraction. If Kirkpatrick had changed to human to meet them and had gotten dressed, then he wasn’t in some sort of frenzy.
He moved with natural grace, hardly making a sound until he came to a stop. Then he laughed. “Well,” he said again, “a city werewolf. I’ve heard of those. Running without a pack, City-Wolf?”
“Whoa.” Cal repeated himself, and for the second time in his life, Ray wondered what Cal saw when he beheld a werewolf, if he saw the same power that Ray was seeing, that hint of something primal and wild in the man’s eyes as he considered all of them, dividing them into predator or prey. When his gaze flicked over Cal, Ray lifted his head and stared hard. His breathing was heavy, hackles officially raised, and for a second all he wanted to do was grind this upstart into the dirt.
He was still between him and the others. “I have a pack.” Hurt them and I’ll hurt you. It didn’t need saying. At his back, Cal seemed to be stuck on a loop. “Whoa.”
“Detectives Del Mar and Branigan with the Los Cerros PD.” He assumed Penn was holding up her badge. “We’re here to ask you some questions.”
Ray couldn’t smell anything of the victim on Kirkpatrick, but he could have washed very carefully, and they had to be sure, so he didn’t say anything and let Penn step in. He heard her, very slowly, holstering her gun, then coming closer.
“Someone you know was murdered this morning. Perry Paladino.”
It at least got Kirkpatrick’s attention.
“That asshole?” He shrugged. “Am I supposed to cry? Another drunk human who thought he could take a Were in a fight. I didn’t even have to shift. Anyway, that was months ago. I only pressed charges since I figured it would teach that idiot better than a beatdown would. He seemed like he’d known a few of those already.”
He stopped, then shrugged again. “Murdered, huh? I suppose saying I’ve been here alone all week, but I didn’t do it would make you guys go away?”
“Nope. Sorry.” Penn didn’t sound sorry. “But I’m sure if you are innocent and don’t have anything to hide you won’t mind us checking out your lair.”
Kirkpatrick’s attention came back to Ray, not that it had ever fully left him. The man wasn’t stupid. He rubbed his nose, then smiled without much humor.
“Sure.” With a slight wave, he starting moving backward, slipping through the trees. Ray led the way after him, keeping him in sight at all times. But it wasn’t far to a small clearing underneath some tall, tall redwoods, against a hill where an outcropping of rocks led to an actual cave, though there was also a tent and a fire pit. No signs or smells of anyone else, wolf or human.
“Don’t see your pack.” He couldn’t help a smirk.
“To be honest, I’m more of a lone-wolf type.”
Penn was moving carefully around the campsite, peering in the open door of the tent without entering it, poking at the remains of a rabbit with her toe. There really wasn’t much to look at.
“You live here?” Most wild Wolves had better shelter than this. So-called City Wolves usually had houses or cabins so they could visit the wilderness when needed.
“Recent breakup. Decided I liked it. Haven’t felt like anything more permanent.” Kirkpatrick’s shrug didn’t hide the undercurrent of pain at the word “breakup.” Ray reconsidered him. Not a Mating, clearly, but the man had lost something meaningful.
Penn took no interest in that as she stared into the cave and declared it shallow before announcing that she couldn’t see anything. They hadn’t really expected Kirkpatrick to be guilty, but the lack of evidence was good to hear, though Ray didn’t ease his posture, not for a second.
“Why a werewolf?” Kirkpatrick asked suddenly.
“We have our reasons,” Cal answered, and Ray barely hid his flinch. He couldn’t look, didn’t dare, but there was Cal’s warm scent, mingling with the moss and dirt and dark forest smells and Kirkpatrick’s odor: lonely, hungry. He didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it any more than he liked how the other Were’s gaze narrowed on Cal. Again.
Idiot should have stayed in the car. Anyone with any sense would have stayed in the car. Goddamn fair—no, goddamn, Cal.
“Well hello, little fairy.” Kirkpatrick greeted him, smiling for real for the first time. “Oh, half-fairy, my bad. Little half-fairy with little, pretty, tasty wings.” Cal’s breathing did a strange thing. So did Ray’s. The other Were looked at him. “So, Detective, you always put your mate in danger like this?”
Ray growled. Not quietly. “She’s not my mate. She’s my partner.” The bond was similar in some ways, easy enough to mistake, but too late Ray realized that Kirkpatrick hadn’t gotten it wrong at all, and Ray had just confirmed that.
Of course he’d smell the truth, out here with no mitigating scents, with Ray vibrating with the need to act on his instincts. If it wasn’t Penn, then there was only one person who could be creating this worry/need/protect in Ray.
“Not her,” Kirkpatrick informed him anyway, reckless, or just an asshole with a broken heart. “A City-Wolf like you, so weak. I figured the half-breed was the best you could do.”
Ray moved. The air moved with him, and then Kirkpatrick was against a tree, slammed into the trunk with Ray’s claws digging into his neck and Ray’s face close to his as he let the jackass catch his breath. His teeth were bared. Kirkpatrick’s weren’t for one startled moment, and then Ray could feel the man’s body tense as though he might shift.
Fool hadn’t even gotten a chance to get his hands up. Ray pulled back to avoid the dead rabbit breath, and heard the other two calling his name. He shook them off, felt his body go tense too.
“You don’t get to talk about him,” he informed Kirkpatrick, his growl only intensifying with so much wolf so close. “He’s smarter than you, prettier than you, and he damn sure smells better than you.”
Kirkpatrick rolled his eyes, leaning his head back into the tree and closing his mouth. He wasn’t any kind of alpha yet, too young, too immature, but Ray kept him where he was until the message was received.
Kirkpatrick sniffed the air a few times before glancing from Ray to the place behind him where the air smelled like Christmas and Valentine’s Day. Cal. Then he smirked.
“Oh,” he said, his volume going up. “He’s not your mate at all, is he? You haven’t even fucked him yet.”
Ray’s claws tightened. He watched Kirkpatrick’s skin go red and then white with the pressure. His face, his body, were hot. Burning. And he was growling, growling until he heard Cal speaking.
“Ray. Ray Ray. Raymond.”
Kirkpatrick was eyeing him, weighing him for something, and still talking, in the barest whisper that Ray allowed him. He wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t about to die. This was wolf business and Kirkpatrick shouldn’t have involved the others.
“Why not?�
� He wanted to know, seemed honestly confused, and his loneliness hit Ray again, almost made him relax his grip. “He’s pretty, and the desire for you radiates from him.”
As though Ray didn’t smell the lust/need/want everyday. Hearing it from someone else twisted his gut.
“Ray,” Penn murmured, urgently.
“You’re too young to understand,” Ray answered him at last, even as only a wolf could hear. “He’s Fairy. They don’t…. They don’t Mate.” It hurt to say. Kirkpatrick blinked.
“Who cares? Take what you can. It’s better than….” He swallowed. “You want to let me go now?”
Ray took it as a suggestion because it sure as hell wasn’t an order. He waited, because he could, and then released him and took a step back. He watched the other Were rub his neck and then offer him a rueful grin.
“Not bad spirit, for—”
“A City-Wolf, we get it,” Cal finished for him, strain in his voice. Ray raised his head.
“Callalily.” He spoke quietly, flatly, without turning, because he couldn’t look at Cal now without quite possibly losing it completely. “Wait in the car.” He couldn’t think without picturing Cal with him, at his home, out here, curling around him with the free, wild, forest air blanketing them.
He could almost hear Cal’s pout, the protest about to happen, and preempted it.
“Now, Cal. Please.”
It was the please that worked. Cal made a thoughtful, unhappy sound that was just wrong coming from his kind and moved. Only once he was really gone did Ray get back to business.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Kirkpatrick, you seem to be innocent, and I have no reason to kick your ass. Unless you want to give me one….” He stopped. It was a speech he’d given before. He only half meant it, usually. At the moment, however, he felt raw enough to consider rearranging that young face with his claws.
Penelope switched to overly bright sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your time today. The Los Cerros Police Department appreciates your cooperation. If you have any questions, feel free to call….”
Ray turned before she was done handing over information that Kirkpatrick didn’t want or need. Seconds later she was crashing through the trees behind him, not exactly in her element out here.
She still had the keys, but just to be clear, Ray slammed into the passenger seat, not glancing in the backseat at all. “You drive.”
He rolled down his window the rest of the way, not especially caring, for once, if Cal was chilled, because the window down meant Cal’s scent was somewhat diluted. He closed his eyes as Penn started driving and then consciously forced himself to shift back to fully human.
Some of the rest of him had changed too. He’d torn his shirt, damn it. If only that was his biggest problem right now. He’d revealed too much.
Not with the shifting. Cal had seen Ray semi-shift once before, had leaned back with his bared throat and his round eyes and nearly asked for Ray to bite him.
Ray hadn’t, a regret that still burned.
He had only opened his mouth, sticky with the heat, soaked to the skin from his shower, and watched the colors in Cal’s eyes swirl.
“What are you waiting for, Rover?” Cal had demanded, and Ray had shifted, knowing it wasn’t what Cal had been asking for but unable to keep himself from wondering what Cal Parker, his brand new mate, but not, would think of him. He hadn’t changed all the way, but just enough, leaving himself on the edge.
Strength. Implied violence. Power, that’s what Ray was when he was like that, and yet he’d been shuddering and weak in front of one little half-fairy, hoping he could be anything to those eyes that Cal would want.
He had been a creature in pain and still hoping, and Cal hadn’t noticed. Ray remembered thinking for the first time that it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t right that he should want a fairy like this, a fairy who would never be undone for Ray in the same way.
But then a hand had touched him, and he had watched, stunned, as Cal’s palm had wandered over his chest, petting through his fur.
“Soft.” Cal had been sweet, was always sweet, even when he was breaking Ray’s heart. “Soft,” he’d said. “You’d think you’d be scary. But you’re soft.”
Ray was shaking and turned his face away from the others, facing the window as his pulse raced in his ears, left him hot. His breathing was loud, the others would notice. But he didn’t stop replaying the memory, wishing, as he always did, that he hadn’t been so stupid.
With those words hanging between them, Cal had hesitated again, the light around him unstable, glitter exploding, leaving glowing auras in Ray’s vision. And then Cal had gasped and the world had gone back to normal.
“Rover.” Cal’s words still buzzed like bees around their honey. “Ray. You. You’re….”
Ray had known then that Cal hadn’t understood. He had wanted to howl, there with claws against the wall on either side of Cal, with their breath mingling and his mate, his brand new but unclaimed mate so close.
But Cal hadn’t understood, still didn’t. What it meant. What Ray needed.
Ray made a noise, strangled and furious, that made Penn glance at him with worry and which made Cal, with that same un-fairy-like discretion he showed on occasion, begin to talk only to her. It was all nonsense, shotgun sequencing, the weather, the trees, elementary particles, what peony nectar tasted like compared to fermented rosewater, how could Penelope possibly prefer ouzo, topics just to fill the silence and spare Ray the need to say anything.
He was grateful and hated it at the same time. When Cal cared for him like this, it made the longing worse, reminded him of what he could have and why he shouldn’t have it. He hadn’t expected Kirkpatrick to know that.
He tried not to listen for that reason, only if it had no distraction, his mind kept replaying Kirkpatrick’s words.
And then Cal, asking Why? Whispering, There you are and here I am. Just take me.
He should have by now. Spared himself some of this agony and taken what Cal could give him and pretend it hadn’t been anything else when Cal flitted on to someone else so Cal wouldn’t feel guilty for wounding him.
Breaking his heart. Leaving him soulsick. It wouldn’t be something Ray would be able to hide anymore, not after briefly having Cal in his bed with him. Cal and his eyes that according to Nasreen saw more than Ray could ever guess. Cal would look at him and know. Not that Ray would blame him, or try to force him to stay.
It wasn’t Cal’s fault, it was his nature. Fairies couldn’t help it. They simply weren’t meant to be unhappy and didn’t like to see others that way either.
Proving his point, they weren’t back in town a minute before Cal apparently decided that Ray had had enough time to brood.
“So he wasn’t the guy, obviously. Even if he was a total dick.”
“Word.” Penn sniffed. “That guy had an attitude I didn’t care for, but he’s no murderer.” Cal moved from where he’d been sitting primly for the drive and pressed against Ray’s seat. Ray tensed, and Cal retreated.
“Ray?” he started in a small voice, and Ray had the sick feeling he was going to ask, or that he’d heard what he’d whispered to Kirkpatrick after all. He held his breath. “Ray.” Cal was so quiet. “Do you really think I’m prettier than he is?”
“Cal.” In his mind, Ray was holding Cal right now, and in reality Cal was… being Cal.
“Really. I had no idea other werewolves were so… impressive. I mean, everyone says fairies are so beautiful, but you guys are something else. I wouldn’t blame you at all for preferring that. I mean, I clearly….”
Ray squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. If he could have, he would have shifted right there and bolted from the car. He imagined Cal’s hand on Kirkpatrick’s chest and then couldn’t take it anymore. “Cal,” he said again. “Shut up.”
Cal pouted silently for the rest of the drive, with even his wings quiet and motionless. Only his glitter continued to move, pouring steadily down.
RAY’S mood rubbe
d off on Penn. She got out of the car immediately back at the station, offering him a tight, consoling smile but unable to talk with Cal still there. In the end, when Ray didn’t move from his seat, she nodded at him and headed inside to get her things and go home. Soak in her tub. Eat something.
Ray needed to eat again too, but he didn’t feel hungry. Just drained. Tired. It was dark out, the growing moon taunting him. He kept his eyes closed as the back door opened and Cal climbed out of the car, kept them shut when Cal closed the door after him, but then gave a start when his door was swung open with force.
He looked up and there he was. Cal Parker. The bane of his existence and his reason for living.
“Back off, Primrose.”
“No.” It was short and direct and forceful. Ray frowned. He was a werewolf and a suspected murderer. Why couldn’t Cal take him seriously, just this once? He should be afraid. Ray had growled. Cal should be terrified. He should be taking his little non-flying, half-fairy ass out of there as fast as he could and find some new Being to torment.
But Cal was still, just the wings giving away his agitation. They were worse than a tail, those wings. Ray glared at them, at Cal, then sat up, because that lift to Cal’s chin meant business.
“Oh, good. Here it comes. Got something to say, little fairy?” He sounded like Kirkpatrick and hated it. Cal just waved at him, then crossed his arms.
“What that guy said,” he began, and Ray jerked his eyes away so they couldn’t be read, felt his muscles tighten. “You don’t have to defend me, Ray.”
He looked right back, hot all over, even knowing that he ought to be grateful that Cal hadn’t understood.
“Yes, I do, Calla—” Damn it. He was breathing hard. They both were, he realized. He wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or claw up the car’s upholstery. It was nice to know Cal didn’t know everything after all, but it would have been useful if just once he could have understood what this was for Ray. What the teasing did to him. What Mated meant. Maybe even explain why Ray’s soul had locked onto Cal’s with no warning.