by JL Merrow
“Nick?” Julian’s voice was a little worried. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No, I, ah—” Nick ran his hands through his hair and gave Julian a rueful smile. “I’m being a bit stalkerish, aren’t I? Sorry. Half an hour suddenly seemed like an awfully long time to wait.”
Julian smiled, his whole face brightening. “That’s all right. Come in.”
The room was as bare as Nick remembered it, but a lot less tidy. Julian made a face. “The police searched it. I’ve been trying to clear it up.”
“Christ, why didn’t you tell me? I’d have come and helped. God, what a thing to come back to. We should damned well complain about this.” Nick’s heart was pounding.
“It’s all right. Really.” Julian gave another tired smile. Nick tried to calm his breathing. It wasn’t really that big a deal—but it was just one more way that bastard had violated Julian. As if his life meant nothing, could be turned upside down on a whim. “Nick?”
“I—sorry. Look, let’s go and get an early lunch, all right? Then we can get on with what we need to do for tonight.”
Julian nodded but didn’t move. “Nick?” he asked again, and this time his tone was quite different. It was soft, almost just a sigh. Nick stepped forward almost without knowing he did so, and suddenly Julian was in his arms, their bodies molding together like they’d been made to measure. They shared a long, slow kiss, and although Nick’s body had an inevitable reaction, he didn’t press for anything more. It just seemed right, somehow, to simply hold Julian.
When they parted, a lot of the tension seemed to have drained out of him, and Julian’s smile was more relaxed too. I love you, Nick thought with a kind of wonder. He raised a hand to stroke away a strand of still-damp hair that had fallen over Julian’s face, and breathed in a waft of his shampoo, comforting in its familiarity. For a moment the coming evening seemed very far away and slightly unreal.
But only for a moment. Nick sighed. “Come on. We’ll grab a sandwich at the Copper Kettle, and then we’ll need to get moving.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
DRIVING OUT to the Godolphin Estate that evening, Nick’s whole body thrummed with the tension that had been building all day. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a wholly unpleasant sensation. He realized he was in a certain sense looking forward to the coming confrontation. This was his chance to beat Herrscher—not at his own game, perhaps, but beat him nonetheless.
If it worked. If the day’s preparations hadn’t all been a waste of time. He risked a glance over to Julian in the passenger seat. Julian was slowly regaining his color, but his hands in his lap looked painfully cramped.
Nick’s heart lurched. “This—you don’t have to come, you know. I won’t think any less of you if you change your mind. He’s your father—it must be damned hard for you. You weren’t raised to defy him.”
Julian took a deep breath and stretched out his fingers deliberately. “It’s all right. I—I’ve had a little practice defying those I was taught to obey.”
Nick was absurdly relieved he hadn’t mentioned Schräger’s name. God help him, just the very thought of that bastard made his blood boil, even now he was six feet under in an unmarked grave.
“I’ll take the lead anyway. You don’t even have to show yourself if you don’t want to.” He reached across and gripped Julian’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I have to be here. We’re pack, Nick. We stand together.”
Perhaps he realized that wasn’t precisely the sort of terms Nick wanted to be thinking in right now, because after a moment Julian added, “And I love you.”
Nick’s fingers tightened of their own accord, but as they reached the turning, he had to let go of Julian’s hand to change gear. They’d got to the estate well in advance of the prearranged hour. It was still light, the sky just beginning to turn from pale autumn blue to the inkier shade that presaged full darkness. On such a clear night, the moon would be bright and the sky full of stars. Nick wondered if he’d still be around to see them, and shivered.
“Is everything all right?”
Nick looked across to Julian and forced a tight smile as he put on the hand brake and unbuckled his seat belt. “Yes. Come on, I want to make damned sure there are no nasty surprises lying in wait for us. Your father’s had a whole day to prepare, even if I imagine what he’s prepared for isn’t quite what he’s going to find.”
They walked around the Ring, eyes peeled for any signs that Herrscher and his cronies had got here early, occasionally using sticks to beat at thickets. Nick suspected Julian was only humoring him—apparently there was a sort of honor among wolves that forbade the laying of traps. Nick supposed he was going to be breaking that code tonight, but found he didn’t much care. He’d never asked to become a wolf—he was damned if he’d consider himself bound to obey their rules. What the hell was so bloody fair about a fair fight, anyhow? It didn’t make you any more right if you won. It just meant you were bigger and could hit harder.
Or, as it might be, had sharper teeth.
As they patrolled the area, Nick felt a curious sense of something being mildly out of place, and laughed in spite of himself as he realized what it must be.
“What is it?” Julian asked.
Nick gave a wry smile. “I’ve just realized this is the first time I’ve walked around here with my clothes on.”
He was disconcerted by the sad look on Julian’s face. “It seems like so long ago, when you brought me here last time. Before all….” Julian didn’t finish.
Nick put his arms around Julian. “We’ll come here again. I promise you,” he added as if it wasn’t just a pretty lie, as if he could know for certain how Herrscher would react when Nick confronted him. “It’s a good plan,” he added, quite possibly for both their benefit.
Julian nodded, his eyes downcast and teeth worrying his lower lip. “Yes.” He looked up. “Nick, I—”
A car door slammed in the distance, and they jerked apart. “He’s here,” Nick said unnecessarily. “Time to get ready.”
His eyes fearful, Julian nodded once more and disappeared into the trees on the side farther from the road.
Nick ached to see him go. He hadn’t even had time to tell Julian he loved him, for Christ’s sake. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things. Ruthlessly forcing out all feelings of regret, Nick moved into the open area at the center of the Ring, and waited, his mouth dry. He strained his ears, but caught few sounds of Herrscher’s approach. The tension that had previously lightened his limbs and sharpened his mind now coiled into a lead weight that rested uncomfortably in his stomach. Nick shook himself lightly, trying to dislodge the stiffness that was creeping into his body. If all this went wrong, he’d need to be able to react quickly.
Not that it was likely to help him do anything but delay the inevitable. His jaw clenched as his mind insisted on speculating what it would be like for Julian if that happened. God, he should have told Julian to go back to his mother—Markham had money, surely he could have protected him? Perhaps Nick should call him—
Too late. Herrscher stepped out of the trees and into a patch of moonlight, as if the spotlight had been arranged in advance. On the other side of the clearing, the rabbits continued their attempt to munch the rough grass out of existence, moronically oblivious to the predator in their midst. Nick stood his ground and waited for Herrscher to come to him, fighting the urge to snarl at the smug expression on the man’s face, clearly visible among the shadows cast by the moon’s cold light.
“So. I am here, Dr. Sewell. And now we must discuss what is best for the boy.”
Nick resisted the impulse to grind his teeth at Herrscher’s arrogant tone. “There’s nothing to discuss. Julian is staying here with me.”
Herrscher laughed. “You think you are the one to make that decision? I am his father. I know what is best for him, and it is not to stay here with one who hardly knows what it is to be a wolf. If he stays here, his potential will be wasted.”
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br /> “His potential for what? To become a killer?” Nick’s hands bunched into fists. “Forgive me, Herrscher, but that’s not the kind of education I tend to view as essential.”
Herrscher stepped forward. It took every ounce of self-control Nick had not to leap at him. This was his territory, damn it. Julian was his. “You know what your trouble is, Dr. Sewell?” Herrscher asked scathingly. “You think like a man, not like a wolf.”
It was clearly intended to provoke, but it had the opposite effect. Nick relaxed infinitesimally and even managed a laugh out of sheer bravado. “And you think that’s a character flaw? I’ve got news for you, Herrscher—I am a man. So is Julian. And there’s a damned good reason humans are the dominant species on this planet.”
“Humans!” Herrscher’s lip curled in a sneer. “Don’t you see, Sewell? We are the higher species. We have everything—the intelligence of men and the instincts of the wolf. If Julian does not learn to master his wolf side, he will be nothing—a pale shadow of what he might have been. Is that what you want for him?”
“It’s what I want” sounded from the darkness, and Julian stepped forward. Nick hoped the scent of Julian’s fear wasn’t as obvious to Herrscher as it was to him—and that the sharp spike of terror that had coursed through his own breast on Julian’s behalf was equally undetectable.
But the anger he felt swiftly subdued it. There was a foul taste in Nick’s mouth from Herrscher’s speech. It had called vividly to mind images of older, hate-filled tirades against Untermenschen.
“I don’t want to go back with you,” Julian continued, his voice high and tight to Nick’s ears, “and I don’t want to stay with my mother. I belong to Nick.”
Herrscher turned to face his son. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he visibly bit down on his instinctive response. “Schräger was a misjudgment,” he said at last. “This time, I would train you myself.”
Nick felt a fierce sense of pride as Julian managed to look his father in the eye, even if only for a moment. “I’m staying here.”
Herrscher’s face darkened, and every hair on Nick’s body seemed to stand on end. This was it. This was where it could all go horribly wrong. His wolf instincts were screaming at him to change, to fight, to defend his pack, his mate. “There’s something you should know,” he said quickly, before he could lose control.
He had Herrscher’s full attention now. “What?”
“There’s a police officer who’s been investigating the murder of the young man your misjudgment killed. Detective Inspector Phillips. Met him?” Nick paused. “Interesting man. Bit like a pit bull terrier—once he gets hold of you, he really doesn’t like to let go. He seems to suspect the existence of werewolves. I thought, seeing as he’s taking such a keen interest, it would be only fair to enlighten him.”
“What?”
Nick carried on past the dryness in his throat. “So this afternoon I put together a file, with names and addresses in Germany. Photographs of myself midtransformation. Julian helped with all that. At present, it’s lodged with a friendly solicitor, but I’ve given instructions for it to be forwarded to the detective inspector should anything happen to me or Julian. Including, of course, unexplained disappearances. Obviously, Phillips has no jurisdiction in Germany—but I shouldn’t have thought he’d really need that to make life exceedingly difficult for you.”
There was a moment of absolute stillness. Nick waited, every sense alert to Herrscher’s reaction, to find out if he’d pushed the man—the wolf—too far. If they fought, was there even the remotest chance he would win? Even if Julian were to help? Nick wasn’t sure he could count on that in any case. This was Julian’s father, for Christ’s sake. Please, God, let me not have to kill Julian’s father in front of him.
Although in the circumstances, he’d definitely prefer that to the alternative.
Herrscher’s eyes were the merest slits, glinting in the moonlight, and his body seemed to thrum with barely suppressed rage. His fingers stretched out from his hands as if itching to become claws.
Nick could imagine only too well how they’d feel ripping through his jugular. His throat was impossibly dry, but he felt curiously light-headed, almost buoyant in anticipation of a fight. His weight shifted forward instinctively onto the balls of his feet as he waited for the man to speak.
When Herrscher finally did so, it was with a snarl of contempt so vicious Nick almost mistook it for the beginnings of an attack. “I overestimated you, Sewell. And the boy.” Herrscher gave a harsh laugh, turning to Julian. “Did you think I would be impressed by your use of low, human cunning? This is not the way of the wolf. You disgust me. You are no son of mine. Kommt!” As he barked the order, the mismatched figures of Luther and Wahl broke from the shadows to follow their leader.
Nick watched them move out of sight, scarcely able to believe that they were going without a fight. When he heard the sounds of doors slamming and the car moving off, the tension finally broke, and he sat heavily on the ground. He hadn’t had the slightest inkling of the presence of Herrscher’s henchmen. Christ, if he’d had to fight, it would have ended up a bloody massacre.
“Thank God for low cunning,” he said shakily as Julian dropped to the ground beside him.
Julian’s arms wrapped around Nick and tightened convulsively. “I didn’t understand,” Julian whispered, his head buried in Nick’s neck. “Why you were not like them. You confused me.”
“And now?”
“I think your way is better. Whatever my father thinks.” He looked up into Nick’s eyes. “Can we go home now?”
“Yes,” Nick told him. “We can go home.”
THE DRIVE back to college seemed to pass in a blur. Nick drove on autopilot, hoping distractedly that enough of his subconscious was paying attention that they wouldn’t have an accident. Perhaps they should have stayed out on the estate, eased the tension with a run—but Julian had wanted to go home, and Nick had felt a powerful urge to get him back where he felt safe.
They walked back through college holding hands, Nick rather reveling in shocking the few students who were around to see them. For God’s sake, it wasn’t like they were performing sodomitical acts in the middle of Main Court.
As they reached Nick’s staircase, the figure of Angus Lemon bore down upon them. “Ah! Sewell. Need a word—”
Nick smiled savagely and held up his and Julian’s clasped hands so that Lemon couldn’t possibly overlook them. “Not now, Angus. Julian and I are a little busy. I wouldn’t bother knocking later, either—I doubt we’ll be opening the door.”
He had the satisfaction of rendering the old goat absolutely speechless, although the faint sputterings of “Well, really!” that followed them up the stairs showed Lemon had recovered fairly quickly. Still, Nick had a feeling he’d be staying well out of their way for the foreseeable future.
Julian was in his arms the minute the door had closed behind them. Their bodies melted together, fitting perfectly, and Nick reached up and stroked that pale gold hair that had fascinated him as long as they’d known each other. Having Julian in his rooms seemed to have gone from awkward and unusual to entirely natural and proper. The short times he’d been absent earlier in the day had made the place seem far too empty. Christ, had he really ever thought living together would be a bad idea? First thing tomorrow he was heading down to the estate agent’s.
Julian leaned into the caress. “Take me to bed?”
“God, yes,” Nick breathed. He didn’t move for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of Julian pressed against them, but as Julian tugged gently at his shoulders, Nick recollected just how much better it would be if they were naked. He shrugged off his jacket and dropped it to the floor, then reached up to push Julian’s jacket off his shoulders. “New?” he asked absently, enjoying the way Julian’s scent intensified as the leather fell to the ground.
“Yes.” Julian sounded distracted, busy undoing Nick’s shirt. Presumably Tiffany was claiming squatter’s rights on the old jacket.
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“I like it. Better off, though.” Nick breathed in sharply as soft hands moved over his bare chest, and his fingers fumbled with the buttons of Julian’s shirt, desperate for more skin-to-skin contact. Julian wasn’t helping—he’d leaned in to nuzzle at Nick’s neck with teasing little nips and kisses that were entirely too distracting.
Nick finally managed to get Julian’s shirt off and pulled him in closer. He wanted to feel him, not look at the marks that bastard had left on him. Julian was hard, as hard as Nick himself. They frotted against each other for a while, mouths finding necks and nipples and finally each other once more, then Nick felt slender fingers working at his belt buckle and undoing his trousers. As they fell to the floor, he hurried to return the favor, pushing clothing down over slender hips and finally pressing their heated lengths together.
The more he had, the more he seemed to need. Nick grasped Julian’s buttocks, trying to be gentle as he urgently ground their cocks together. It still wasn’t enough. “Bed,” he suggested breathily, and bodies still entangled, they kicked off their shoes, stepped out of their clothes and headed for the bedroom.
The sheets, as Nick pulled them back, still smelled of them, of their lovemaking last night. They fell into bed together, as if any loss of contact could be disastrous, and kissed deeply, Nick remembering to be as gentle as he could with his lover’s bruised form.
“I want you to take me,” Julian said, breaking their kiss.
Nick froze. A thousand implications of that simple request hung in the air between them like Schräger’s ghost. At Julian’s stricken look, Nick forced himself to relax as far as he was able. “It’s all right—”
“Please,” Julian whispered, and it was too much.
Nick could have wept. “If it hurts, you are to tell me immediately, understand?” He almost snarled it. Julian didn’t answer. “Understand?” Nick repeated more forcefully.