Werewolf Journals 01 - Wild in the City

by Camille Anthony

  “That’s not as easy to do as you make it sound, Hunter. For over six months, I’ve done nothing except worry and fret over what new torture my brother-in-law would devise for my…torment.”

  There. There was that flash of thought, quickly aborted. What was she hiding? Having told us of the trouble she faced, why would she hold back something that might prove vital?

  After tonight, your only worry will be how much fucking your little pussy can withstand. I have not had nearly enough of you, yet.

  “Is fucking all you think about?” Her chiding voice belied the shaking fingers spasmodically clenching in my dense fur, the sharp, sudden scent of heated juices pooling between her legs, slicking her puffy lips.

  When I am around you? Yes. I imagine I will still be thinking of fucking when I’m toppling you from your wheelchair and beating you to the ground.

  She looked at me askance. “And the funny thing is…you say that with a straight face.” She looked again and added under her breath, “As straight as doggy faces can get, anyway.”

  Shaking her head, she stroked my flanks, her fingers brushing dangerously close to my sheath. “You know, life is strange…a girl waits all her life for Prince Charming to come along, and he turns out to be a dog.”

  That’s it, young lady--

  I caught her fingertips with the edge of my teeth, worrying them without pressure. She giggled and tried to pull her hand free, swatting me away from where she lolled against the back of the car seat. In retaliation, I jumped up and maneuvered carefully in the space between the seats. Facing her and placing my paws against her shoulders, I pinned her in place, acting like the canine she teasingly persisted in calling me. Wriggling my body against her, I wagged my tail and licked her face wet, evading the hands that batted at my muzzle, trying to keep me away.

  I edged between her knees, forcing her legs apart and leaned my weight against her chest. With way over two hundred pounds of wulf lying on her, I had her well and truly trapped. Laughing and sighing, she gave up, draping her arms about my neck. I touched my muzzle to her up tilted face, indulging in some serious nose nuzzling.

  Pulling back to stare into her eyes, I told her again, how I felt, would always feel.

  I’m falling in love with you. Every inch of you is beautiful to me and I will continue to tell you so until you begin to believe me.

  I knew she didn’t entirely trust my promises yet, but she would learn. Unlike humans, a wulf loves forever…is faithful to his mate forever.

  I found it ridiculous that I should have to tell Melody repeatedly just how beautiful she was. What kind of society brainwashes its females into believing their lush bodies, designed by a Creator who had the inside track on what males liked, are ugly?

  I had often wondered it there were some inimical force in Earth’s atmosphere that foments contention and adversity, for the members of my race--whose sole claim to virtue is not being native to this rock--do not suffer from the social ills that plague humans.

  Don’t get me wrong, we had our share of in fighting and politicking, but we were, by and large, the most loyal, community-minded creatures inhabiting Earth. As I’d said, before, that probably had nothing to do with our worthiness as a race and everything to do with not being indigenous to this planet. Here’s a scary thought--if my people lived here long enough, would we begin to devolve and become more like humans? Yeck!

  Surprisingly, Melody seemed to be free of the pettiness and mean-spirited attitude that riddled humankind; she had a soft heart and a soft spot for an underdog. When the time came to present her to my parents and pack, I would do so proudly. Snuggled up to my own contrary human, I gave heartfelt thanks for finding her.

  Sometime later, Fortrayn eased the car into a shadowed alley between two abandoned warehouses, located out on the fringes of the San Francisco wharf. He lowered the privacy panel, shut the engine off and turned to face us. “We’re here.”

  We exited the car, being careful to disable the interior light and leave one of the back doors ajar. Fortrayn opened the trunk, taking out a snap-leash and collar and affixing both around my neck. He handed the leash to Melody and began to undress, tossing his clothes into the trunk.

  “Oh, what fun, Hunter! I could seriously get into leading you around on a chain! I love a man who knows his proper place.” Her chuckle died when I gave a sharp pull to the leash. The chain and collar separated, dropped to the ground and left me free. I got in her face.

  We will discuss my proper place later on tonight, I promised with a toothy grin, standing still so she could refasten my collar. While her hands deftly reattached the lead, Fortrayn divided the money in two, placing part in a canvas bag and the rest back in the briefcase, hiding the bag in the secret compartment under the middle seat. Earlier, I’d ordered Fortrayn to divvy up the money and set some aside in our hiding place. While I was fairly confident of the night’s outcome, it was possible we might become separated. I wanted Melody to have cash on hand if she needed to run.

  “Fortrayn, what in blue blazes are you doing?” Melody’s shocked whisper carried no further than the edge of the car. She gasped, wide eyes glued to my cousin’s lean, naked body. I saw her gaze drop down and heard her gasp again, obviously having caught sight of his equipment.

  “I can’t shift in clothes, Auntie. I’d get all tangled up.”

  I growled, disgruntled at her reaction. What was so gasp-able about his little pecker? Mine was bigger, as she had pussy-pleasing cause to know. Hell, time to get this show on the road before something else sidetracked her or I got mad.

  Shift to mid-change, cousin. It’s party time. Melody, once you get us in, remember to get back and stay out of the way. In fact, as soon as we confront Spenser, I want you to hightail it back to the car.

  It was a good thing we were speaking mind-to-mind, because if not, I’d have been wasting my breath. It was another good thing I was a shorthaired wulf. If my fur had been an inch longer, the look she gave me out of narrowed amber eyes would have curled it.

  “I am COMING with you. I am STAYING with you. There will be DIRE consequences if either of you attempts to accidentally or otherwise leave me behind. Do you hear me, you flea-ridden bag of fur and teeth?”

  Jeesh! I hear you, sweet bitch. There’s no need to speak in capitals and no need to call names.

  “Just so you know.” She stalked off toward the dark warehouse at the end of the pier. Hearing only her own footsteps, she stopped, swung around and peered into the night, whispering, “You guys coming?” She jumped straight up, smothering a scream when Fortrayn tapped her shoulder from behind.

  “Looking for us?” Fortrayn’s quiet laughter faded when he caught a glimpse of Melody’s pale face. He began to backpedal as she advanced on him, eyes ablaze in the moonlight, mouth tight with anger.

  “Damn it! Shit! Crap! You damned, piss ant puppy, you scared me half to death! If you ever sneak up on me like that again, I’ll twist your tail in a knot.” She punctuated every word with a pointed jab of her fingertip into his chest and arms. “And I don’t mean the one you’ll be wagging before the night’s over.”

  Thank goodness, I hadn’t given in to the temptation to startle her by nipping at her shapely heels. As it was, I enjoyed watching her lambaste the boy, but enough was enough.

  Kiddies, we have other things needing attention. Namely, ridding my mate of a nuisance and tenderizing my dinner.

  “Gee, Uncle, she’ll make a great Pack Bitch and later, Pack Prima. Is that why you chose her?”

  Never think it. Her scent lured me to her, and then her beauty knocked my world off kilter. Her Alpha skills are pure luck, Fortrayn…an added bonus.

  Fortrayn slowly shook his head, his jealousy a thick musk on the early morning air. His glowing eyes, trained on my mate’s retreating form, tracked up and down the length of her well-rounded, bouncing body. With a rueful shrug and a long, drawn out sigh, he met my watchful gaze. “You are one lucky dog.”

  I’ll Have Mine with Sau
ce

  Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. This one looked like a very handsome black male of about forty years of age. Lean and muscular, dressed in an expensive, dark brown double-breasted suit jacket worn over a pair of cream slacks, Gerald Spenser sat at his wide wooden desk, busy scribbling in a journal. He didn’t raise his head at Melody’s entrance.

  “You bring my money, bitch?”

  Earlier this evening, I had told Melody the word ‘bitch’ carried honor and status among my kind. Hearing it spat from this man’s lips made my ruff stand up. My lips peeled back from my fangs and a snarl trickled from my muzzle. Cautioning myself to be patient, I stood stiffly by Melody’s side. This man would soon pay dearly for his disrespect.

  “I have the money, Gerald,” she replied, her words clipped. She swung the briefcase up onto the desk, snapped it open and spun it around to display the neat stacks of twenty-dollar bills. “Do you have…what you promised me?”

  The man lifted his head, inspected the money and smiled. Glassy black eyes glittering, his pupils huge and unfocused--telling me he had recently indulged in a little private sampling of his illegal wares--he nodded. “Right here on the property, little mama. Did you tell anyone?”

  “No. I’ve told no one. Since you made it a condition of not chopping off any more body parts, I took you at your word, such as it is.”

  The smile slid off his face and he made a moue of disgust. “I’ll be glad to finally be rid of the thing. It’s been nothing but trouble around here. None of my bitches want to take time off the streets to watch it.”

  “Let me see him.”

  “Sure, why not?” Swiveling his chair to face the bookcase behind his desk, Spenser picked up a remote and pointed it at the small television monitor on the second shelf. “Closed circuit cable to a remote location,” his knowing smile raised my hackles, “and once I have the rest of the money, I’ll tell you the location. You can go pick up the baby and everything will be cool.”

  “It’s all there…all twenty-five hundred dollars. What more are you talking about?” Melody sounded confused.

  “I’m talking about what I’m charging you for keeping your brat in babysitters. Quality care don’t come cheap, you know.”

  “Why you--” Her complaint broke off in mid cry as her eyes became glued to the television monitor.

  On the screen, a thin female, looking more like a lost little girl, sat holding a little baby boy. The tiny black child appeared wizened and pale with hardly any flesh to its bones. A thin, hungry wail leaked from its mouth in a wordless monotonous plea for comfort and nourishment.

  “He’s so thin! Gerald, you promised--” A sobbing gasp escaped her before she gathered control about her like a suit of armor and turned her accusing stare on her brother-in-law. “You haven’t been feeding him.”

  Gerald swung back around to sneer in Melody’s face. “Bitch, do I look like I’ve got titties? I bought milk. All the damned thing does is scream and shit, scream and shit. I’m bout ready to snuff it. You better have another grand in there, cause I ain’t giving no second chances.”

  “Neither am I.” Her voice a snarling rasp, she slid the loop of my leash off her wrist, snagged the chain of the tiny red purse dangling from her shoulder and brought it to her chest. With a quiet snick, the catch came loose and without looking down, she drew out a small cellophane envelope containing what looked to be a dried cylindrical tube and laid it on Spenser’s desk. “You never planned to give him back, did you?”

  My guts slid sideways as I got a good look at the article and realized it was the miniscule finger of Melody’s baby. Shock snatched my legs out from underneath me and I dropped to my haunches, sickened beyond measure. Mind racing, recalling the moment under the restaurant table when I had caught a whiff of an unrecognizable scent, I howled soundlessly, heart hurting for my mate. Even through the plastic, I could smell the scent that identified the small scrap of flesh to be of Melody’s blood and bone.

  Mother’s milk had been the elusive fragrance I’d smelled while under the table. The scent had been faint, unexpected, but there. She should have told me, no matter what Spenser threatened. She should have known I would never allow anything else to happen to her son.

  Eyes burning with an otherworldly glow, focused on the creature that had torn my mate’s child from her arms, I let the anger build in me, knowing it would soon rage out of control. Determined to execute this--for want of a better word, man--slowly, I flashed an outraged message to Fortrayn.

  He has been holding Melody’s pup to force her to his will. The little one is mutilated. Find our pup--they are keeping him in a nearby building--then let no one escape. Kill them all.

  Spenser leaned back in his chair, set it swiveling from side to side. His face carved in an expression of pure evil, his lips curved in a smile all the more chilling because it looked so innocent. “The bitch finally catches on. I thought you never would.”

  He gave a huffing laugh, and twirled a pen between his fingers, flexing it smoothly so that it looked like it was made of rubber. “I mean, you’ve never figured out I snuffed your do-gooder husband, did you?”

  He brought his chair upright. “Do I got to tell you everything, you dumb-assed broad?”

  Before Melody could answer, a distant howl, eerie and soul-chilling sang on the air. Enraged as only a wulf could become over the harm to an innocent pup, Fortrayn reacted to the mental images I relayed of that tiny, severed finger, preserved in a shrink-wrapped covering. Out in the night, screams of pain mingled with shouts of terror rose on the air. Gunshots rang out. Men began to die.

  There was nothing subtle about the sudden cacophony. Gerald rushed to his feet, head jerking to the left and right, eyes wild and panicked as the sounds of grisly dismemberment and bloody death began to penetrate the thin walls of the warehouse. “What the hell’s going on? What is all that fucking noise?”

  Leaning over his desk, her face shoved close to his, fists planted beside the small package, Melody spoke through gritted teeth. “It is the sound of retribution, Gerald.”

  Insanity swam in the eyes he turned on my mate. “Bitch, you goddamn ungrateful whore…what the fuck have you done?”

  “Why, I did everything you instructed, Gerald. I gathered all my savings and it wasn’t enough. I sold my house and that still wouldn’t satisfy you. I borrowed from my husband’s friends to pay the ransom you demanded, and later came begging for my son’s life. In response, you sent me this.” She gripped the little detached digit, fingers unconsciously gentle on the package holding her baby’s flesh.

  When she looked back up at him, her amber eyes glinted with hatred, glowing almost as much as mine while in the midst of changing. “Only a madman would torture his own nephew. Madmen should be destroyed, put down like rabid dogs, don’t you think?”

  He stepped away from the desk, hand reaching under the side, fingers scrabbling for his gun or, perhaps, a security button. A snarl from me had him jumping and throwing a nervous glance in my direction.

  “Take care to keep your hands above the desk.” Melody stroked my head. “He bites when he gets nervous. Er…that is to say, when I get nervous.”

  “I let you live, you stupid bitch. I could have killed you when I killed that mealy-mouthed brother of mine. It would have been easy. You weren’t but a month back from the hospital, still weak as a syphilis whore. I heard your pathetic mewling from upstairs. ‘Roland, Roland who is it? What’s happening? Are you all right?’ I laughed at you, ignorant bitch. Hell yeah, he was all right and tight dead! Ha--ha, dead as a doornail!”

  “You left my child and me destitute. The insurance company wouldn’t pay on his policy because you made his death look like a suicide. Then you came slithering back, demanding money I didn’t have, talking crazy nonsense about some treasure you claimed Roland had bragged about.”

  “He had it, all right. I know he did. No one brags like that unless it’s true. If you didn’t know about it, he was probably tired of your fat as
s and fucking some slim bitch on the side, sharing the money with her.”

  She ignored his slur about her weight, obviously focused on other things. “The word ‘unfaithful’ wasn’t in Roland’s vocabulary. He didn’t know how to spell it, let alone practice it. What could he possibly have told you, Gerald, to make you believe he had access to that kind of money?”

  “He claimed he had a treasure worth more than all the wealth in San Francisco, claimed I’d never be able to possess it because I could never find it.”

  Silence ruled for the space of a minute and then Melody laughed. And then kept on laughing, gales of it, tinged with hysteria. Suddenly, she stopped laughing to scream, “You stupid, ignorant, crazy asshole, you killed your own brother, kidnapped my son and your only nephew for ransom…all for nothing.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I was his treasure! Me! My child and I were his treasure!” She began to sob as she shouted at him, the tears flooding down her face, clogging her voice. “You…you…you…fucker! You destroyed my family looking for something we never had. We were poor as church mice, all our extra money going to help the destitute members of Roland’s little congregation. I only stopped working when I began to really show because a pregnant nightclub singer just isn’t sexy enough to bring in the dough like--”

  Melody’s tears choked her. Her breasts rising on a deep breath, she regarded her brother-in-law with disgust, shaking her head side to side. “Well, at least now I know why you did what you did. And I feel totally justified in leaving you to your fate.”

  “You still don’t know anything, damn fucking whore.” Spenser spat across the desk, a gobbet of spittle landing on Melody’s chest. The icy calm of the very insane frosted the air as he used his sibilant words to bombard my mate. He leaned against the desk, nonchalantly crossed his legs and continued his conversation while his henchmen fell to Fortrayn’s fury.

  “Oh, I never believed that sorry-assed story about a treasure, but I’ve repeated it enough to cop to an insanity plea if I ever get caught out. I would only spend, what, four--five years at the most in Atascadero. Medical breakthroughs happen all the time. I’ll wait it out, pretend I’m cured and be out like that.” He snapped his fingers.