by JC Holly
“No, but in a lot of cases we can sense moods, which is often good enough. Other than that wolves who run together work out a series of gestures and sounds beforehand, and decide who will lead in cases where that’s necessary.”
“So one bark for yes, two for no?”
Harlan smiled. “That, or we’ll simply nod or shake our head. Obviously that may draw odd looks if we’re being watched, but that’s rarely an issue. Other than that we can paw the ground, wag our tails, blink, growl, and a bunch of other stuff. You’ll get the hang of it.”
“All right.”
“Anything else you want to know?”
Mitch shook his head. “The rest is stuff I can figure out afterwards.” When I’m a frickin’ wolf. “I suppose we should start.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He stood. “If that was the case we’d be in here till next week. So, how do we do this?”
Harlan glanced around the room for a moment. “You need to be in the largest room, ideally, which would be the recording room. Since these are soundproofed rooms, though, I need to either be in the recording room with you, or in the editing booth with the sound on so I can talk to you.”
“Would it bother you much if you were in the same room as me?” Mitch felt his cheeks color. “I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to watch the change.”
Harlan smiled as he stood. “Mitch, I’ve seen many changes. They don’t bother me as much as they would you. I’d be happy to be with you, if it’d put your mind at ease.”
“It would, yeah.” Mitch glanced at the recording room door and swallowed hard. “Right, let’s do this.”
Harlan opened the door for Mitch, then crossed to the exit door to make sure it was locked, before heading inside the foam padded room. While Harlan was moving chairs and instruments left from the previous session with the band, Mitch began sorting through the various cables that crisscrossed the room, unplugging what he could and simply brushing aside what he couldn’t. In short order, the room was as clear as it was going to get.
Mitch stood in the middle of the room and began to undress, handing Harlan his clothes. Harlan folded them and placed them in the corner, well out of the way.
“Now, when you’re shifted, you’ll be weak,” Harlan said. “This is your first, and your body has to learn to adapt to the new form. The best thing to do is to just sit for a few minutes and get used to your senses. Don’t try to walk until you feel you can do it safely.”
“Got it.” He pulled his last item of clothing, his boxers, down and tossed them to Harlan. “You can keep those if you like.”
Harlan laughed. “I have no need for the clothes when I have unrestricted access to their contents.”
Mitch had to laugh, and shook his head. “Right, so what do I do?”
“Close your eyes and get down on all fours.”
“Hey, I know this position.”
Harlan snorted. “Quiet, you.”
Mitch did as he was told. “So I have to do this each time?”
“Not at all. It just helps on the first few. You’ll find it easier to keep your balance.” Footsteps hinted at Harlan’s movement. “Now, concentrate on the thought of becoming a wolf. Want it.”
“Got it.”
Mitch focused on becoming a wolf. On sprouting fur, fangs, claws. On running wild between the trees and under a warm sky. He frowned as he felt a pull in his core, as if he was trying to turn inside out starting from the stomach.
“I feel weird,” he said.
“That’s the pull. Relax and let it come.”
“I’m afraid, Harlan.” He took a breath as the pull became stronger. “What if it goes wrong?”
“It can’t,” Harlan said, his voice soft. “It’s not possible. Your body only knows two forms. Human and wolf. If you’re one, you can only become the other.”
Mitch nodded once and let his body take over.
* * * *
As the change came over Mitch, he let out a scream that Harlan remembered well from his own first shift. Immediately he felt guilt for not telling Mitch just how painful the first time was. It was unavoidable, though. If he’d been honest Mitch would never have wanted to shift.
Shifters had experimented with painkillers in the past, but none had ever worked. There was a reason surgeons didn’t just use aspirin during major surgery.
The man managed to hold his balance throughout, which was impressive. Most new shifters fell, either due to the loss of equilibrium, or from the sheer mind-numbing pain of all their bones breaking and rejoining in new positions. Even The Ancients disliked the shift, and they’d been doing it for uncountable years.
The process took longer than usual, again since it was the first, but was still over in less than a minute, leaving a panting wolf where a human had once been. Mitch whimpered once, then jumped as he realized he’d made a sound that wasn’t human. He glanced down to look at his paws, then back up at Harlan, who smiled and crouched by him.
“Sit down, Mitch.”
Mitch did as he was told, first moving to his haunches, then lying down entirely, his head on his paws, his gaze still on Harlan. The pain in his eyes was clear, but it would fade soon.
“Ignore it,” Harlan said. “Concentrate on a sense. Your hearing at first. You’ll notice that soundproofing isn’t so effective to a wolf’s ears.”
Even to Harlan’s trained ears, sounds from outside could be heard. Even cars passing at the end of the long driveway. Mitch’s eyes widened as he no doubt started to detect the same.
“It’s another reason I like to do the first shift in the wild,” he explained. “Less noise.”
Mitch opened his mouth and began to pant, his eyes darting about the room. Harlan assumed he was testing the acuity of his vision.
“Oh, and I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that you’re fucking gorgeous,” Harlan said with a grin. “Sleek, black, powerful.”
Mitch chuffed once and his tail wagged side to side, making him jump to his feet and spin to try and watch it. Harlan laughed.
“Hey, don’t give wolves a bad name.” Mitch stopped and turned, then walked slowly back to Harlan, who scratched his head between the ears. “Okay, since this is the first shift, I don’t want you doing too much, but I also don’t want you shifting back just yet. I want you to try and sleep a little. After all the exertion you won’t find it hard. Besides, wolves can nap any time, just like dogs.” He kissed Mitch on the head. “Settle down and close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mitch barked once, more to see what it sounded like, Harlan guessed, then settled back onto his paws and closed his eyes. Harlan lay down beside him, one arm over Mitch’s back, and did the same. Sleep didn’t come so easily to him, but he figured that he might need the rest if he came across pack members later. He doubted they would be looking to talk.
Chapter Sixteen
Mitch wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep for, but he did know it was some of the best sleep he’d had in a very long time. As he came to, pain worked its way back into his joints, but it was a tenth of what it had been, and was easily bearable.
He opened his eyes and just for a second panicked, as everything looked wrong. Sharper, more vivid, and taller. He tried to say “huh” but it came out as a chuff, which kick-started his memory. He glanced around, then stood slowly and stretched out and shook his head to clear the fuzz.
I’m a freaking wolf stood in a recording studio, beside my sleeping lover. He bent and nudged Harlan with his snout. The man stirred, his eyelids flickering before they opened fully. He beamed as he saw Mitch and reached up to scratch his head. Mitch cocked his head as the man did it. Something so simple should not feel that good, he decided. His tail wagged, and he was pretty sure he didn’t tell it to.
“How are you feeling?” Harlan asked as he shifted to a seated position. “The pain has faded?”
Mitch nodded.
“Once you’ve shifted a few times you’ll only really feel
it for a few minutes directly after the shift. Also, it hurts a lot less to shift back to human form. Way less.”
That was a relief. Mitch wasn’t sure if he could have taken the same again. With a chuff, he backed away from Harlan and focused on the idea of becoming human once more, then let the shift happen.
Harlan had lied.
Pain ripped through his core, as his entire body broke and realigned, forcing a howl from his previously clamped-shut jaw. He tried to distract himself from the pain, but it was impossible. Every part of his body had to change, and it was making sure that he felt every moment. Seconds stretched into eternities before his howl finally became a human cry. Harlan rushed over and held him as he shivered from the shock.
“Y–y…” Mitch swallowed, trying to find words.
“Take your time. There’s no hurry to speak.”
“Y–You…lying bastard!” He sucked in air. “That hurt like hell.”
Harlan hugged Mitch tight. “And if I’d told you the truth? You might never have shifted back.”
Mitch gritted his jaw against the aches in his body and nodded once to agree. Harlan had a good point, no matter how infuriating it was to admit he was right. He rocked back onto his haunches, then sat on the floor, his breathing still heavy.
“I’m not sure I ever want to shift again, if that’s how it feels.”
That wasn’t entirely true. The moment he’d become a wolf, a whole host of urges came over him, and he wanted to test them all. He wanted to run, to inspect the world from a wolf’s eyes, ears, and nose. He even wanted to hunt, which was completely unlike him. It could all wait, though. Even if the pain lessened each time like Harlan claimed, taking the step again would take a while.
Harlan no doubt sensed the uncertainty behind Mitch’s statement, as he didn’t call him on it. Instead he stood and collected Mitch’s clothes for him.
“I’ll stay till you’re recovered,” he said as he handed Mitch his pants. “Then I need to track the shifters.”
Mitch nodded and quickly dressed. “I need a sofa, a coffee, and another steak.”
Harlan grinned. “You take care of the first part and I’ll handle the other two.”
* * * *
It killed Harlan to have to leave so soon after Mitch’s first shift, but if he didn’t he’d risk losing the trail Brubeck’s pack mates had left. The only way he could put a stop to their pursuit was to tackle them on his own terms, and that meant finding out where they were hiding.
Mitch hadn’t been very talkative during his meal, anyway. It was to be expected. The guy had a lot of new information to process all at once. He’d probably need the time that Harlan was away to come to terms with everything.
“Shit,” Mitch finally said at the end of the meal. “I’ve got that band meeting in an hour. I’d forgot. Maybe I can cancel it.”
“No, you should go. A little normalcy might help you work things out in your head. Normalcy for you, anyway,” Harlan added. “Most of us don’t have band meetings.”
Mitch smirked. “It’s nothing fancy. We eat junk, we drink beer, we discuss songwriting and then don’t do any. And you’re probably right. When do you think you’ll be back?”
Harlan shrugged. “Hard to say. If I find nothing much I’ll be back before you miss me.”
“And if you find something? Or someone?”
“Could be a while.” He rolled his neck experimentally and was glad to find no pain. “I’ll take my cell. If you get a pleasant-sounding text, I’ll be back soon after sending it. If I complain about work, I’ll be a while.”
Mitch downed the last of his coffee, an eyebrow raised. “How very covert.”
“It’s a habit I picked up on the job. You never know if someone is reading the messages.” Harlan stood. “I’d better get going.”
Mitch stood, too, and pulled Harlan close with surprising strength. “When you get home, I’ll probably have questions.” He rubbed his groin against Harlan. “And the horn.”
Harlan slipped a hand under the waistband of Mitch’s pants and grasped the man’s stiffening cock. “That settles it. I’m definitely coming back in one piece.”
“Good.” Mitch leant closer and kissed him hard. “Now go and be a badass.”
On Mitch’s instruction, he headed upstairs to a spare bedroom located on the side of the house. It was one of only two places that you could leave the house completely undetected—apparently Mitch had smuggled a boyfriend in and out that way before. Harlan let himself into the room and crossed to the window and unfastened its lock before sliding it open. There was a rope ladder attached to the ledge that could be unfurled for a quick exit. Harlan left it where it was and climbed through the space, dropping to the ground with a soft thud.
To either side of him lay security cameras, fitted onto the high steel gate. Where he stood, though, was a dead spot in their visions, leaving him invisible to the security crew. Thick trees stood on the other side of the fence, which also blocked him from their eyes, should they happen past. Harlan took a breath of air, confirmed that nobody was near enough to be an issue, then ran for the fence and leapt.
He landed most of the way up the fence, his hands only a foot from the top, then pushed off with his legs and grabbed a thick branch that hung low. From there he swung into the canopy of the tree and slid along the branch. He froze as he heard distant steps, followed by the crackle of a radio.
“The boss wants us to check something on the other side of the house,” Harlan heard from the radio. “Says he thought he saw someone.”
The footsteps headed off in that direction and Harlan dropped to the ground outside Mitch’s home. From there he darted into another patch of trees, then followed the line to where he had scented the shifters.
Despite the time since they had left, the scent was still strong. Harlan took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. It would have been easier if he could have got closer, but the security camera would have picked him up. Definitely two shifters, both male, and at least one had carried a gun. Amateurs. Their trail led in the direction that Mitch had mentioned, and Harlan followed the old walking trail away from the house.
He relaxed as he got further into the woods, though he stayed alert. He’d been involved in too many traps—as both the trapper and prey—to let his guard down entirely. Still, being a little further from civilization always soothed him. His wolf was almost crying to come out, but that would have to wait a little while yet.
Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. Other than the scent, other clues were few and far between. From the few footprints he could find it appeared that one male was light, with average-sized feet that put his height in the five-seven range. The other shifter was much larger. His footprints were twice as deep, and larger than Harlan’s, which made him likely well-built and over six feet. If they were still together they’d be easily spotted.
Harlan walked for another twenty minutes before the trees thinned and more city sounds could be heard once more. He slowed as he realized that the scents he’d been following were also becoming stronger. The shifters were still in the area. Thankfully the wind was in his favor, so it would be harder for them to sense his approach.
After a few slow minutes he heard the slow rumble of an idle car. Staying low, he crept to the side of the trail, into the tree cover, then moved closer to find the two shifters, sat in a car, their attention on a small television on the dashboard. The windows to the car were rolled up, which, along with the TV, explained why they hadn’t heard him coming. They had probably never expected him to pursue in the first place.
The smaller man sat in the driver’s seat, his fingers drumming on the wheel. Harlan would have preferred to take out the much larger man first, then use that as a way to intimidate the smaller man and get information, but only one door was accessible to him without risking being spotted. With a sharp breath, he made his move.
He crossed the space between the trees and car before either spotted him, and had alre
ady wrenched the car door open before the larger man cried out in surprise. The smaller man whipped his gun around, but Harlan was faster and smashed the man’s wrist on the open car door, then wrenched him out onto the dusty parking lot.
The man was fast as a snake and spun out of Harlan’s grip and jumped to his feet, fists raised and ready for a fight. Harlan backed up a step, aware that the larger man hadn’t yet made a move.
“Go,” the smaller man called. “Let them know what happened. I’ll take care of this.”
Harlan cursed silently as the car shot away, wheels screeching as he floored the accelerator. He’d hoped to get both men, or at least follow them back to their hideout. He made a note of the license plate and hoped it was traceable.
“Confident, then,” he said, turning back to his opponent.
The man shrugged, slowly advancing. “Better than Brubeck. Better than the two you fucked up in the car crash.”
“I should hope so. They were barely worth the effort.”
“That was a nice trick, by the way. Flying through your own windscreen takes balls.”
Harlan smirked. “Takes a thick skull, too.”
“This is nothing personal, you know.” The man cracked his neck sharply to one side. “Brubeck was an asshole. But when the alpha barks, I listen.”
“I can relate.”
The man came in faster than a human was capable of moving, feigning left. Harlan realized the feint and threw up an arm to block the fist that came from the right, then lashed out with a punch of his own. He hit nothing but air as the man danced away again, his feet shuffling like a professional boxer.
“This ain’t your first time,” Harlan said as he turned to follow the man.
“Ain’t my last, either.”
He came in again, this time throwing several punches. Harlan blocked or dodged most, but took a glancing blow to the stomach and one to the jaw. He lashed out with a kick and the man shot back again, just out of reach. Harlan shook his head hard and spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt, then squared up to the man once more.