Object of My Affection

by Tracey H. Kitts

  Kat had inherited a huge chunk of property smack in the middle of nowhere. There was an enormous field just beside her house, and this was where the party was. I’d gone over early that crisp October morning to help her get set up. We roped off an area on one side of the field and designated it for parking. Long tables with colorful decorations and orange tablecloths were set up in front of her house for refreshments.

  Just in the edge of the field was a platform we’d moved from inside Kat’s large barn. This was for the band from The Oasis that she’d insisted on hiring anyway. The rest of the field would be used as a dance floor. Kat had also rented a couple of port-a-potties for the event, but slipped me a key to her house before I left.

  “Just go in the back if you need to go,” she said, “and don’t let anyone see you.”

  She locked everyone out of the house, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Kat’s house had started life as a three room farm house in the early nineteen hundreds. She’d restored it wonderfully and added on quite a bit. It looked like a big log cabin. She’d even restored the original plank floors and the huge beams that ran across the ceiling. Of all the things Kat had decorated, that house was her masterpiece.

  —

  A few hours later I was nearly ready to make the thirty minute drive back to Kat’s house. I put on my platform shoes, tightened my black corset, and straightened the ruffles on my little frilly dress. After slipping on my red velvet cloak, I had to admit, I made a damn good Red Riding Hood.

  It had taken us all day to set up, and by the time I made it back it was dusk. Several dozen people were already there and the band was warming up. They were dressed as medieval style minstrels and it went with the theme. A large banner was strung across the front of the platform that read, ‘Creature Comforts’.

  I smiled as I saw Kat walking toward me in a frilly white dress and carrying a shepherd’s hook. She curtsied expertly and chuckled. “What do you think?”

  “Nice.” I smiled. “So, Little Bo Peep, where’s your sheep?”

  Charles had offered to dress to match her, though at the time I’m sure he didn’t know what he was getting into.

  “He’s by the chips,” she pointed.

  There, I saw a nice looking redheaded man who stood out clearly. He was the only six foot sheep.

  “You’re so bad,” I teased.

  I decided I would meet Charles later and went over to speak to the band. I introduced myself to the drummer who’d reported my whereabouts to Marco several months ago. To my surprise, they were a nice bunch of guys. They also didn’t seem the lease bit interested in causing any trouble, which was why I’d gone over in the first place. I had no doubt of their talent, I just wanted to make sure the ‘Creature Comforts’ weren’t going to wolf out at my friend’s party.

  When I turned around I was greeted by Mark, the tall dark bouncer from The Oasis. He was positively dashing, all decked out in black and gold. He looked just like a fairy tale prince.

  The costume was something in between a musketeer and an eighteenth century courtier. His tattoos were all hidden from sight. His long black hair was swept back into a low pony tail and tied with a gold ribbon.

  He made a sweeping bow and removed his hat with its long black feather. “A pleasure to see you m’lady.” He smiled and kissed my hand. “I am Prince Charming.”

  I laughed and he winked. “What do you think?”

  “Oh, I love it.” I beamed.

  “Would you care to dance?” He made another melodramatic bow and I nodded my agreement.

  Mark placed his large hands around my waist and lifted me from the band’s platform. Although it was difficult with our height difference, Mark and I had fun attempting to dance together for the next hour. The band was breaking into a chorus of Werewolves of London, just as I rounded the corner. I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of a very large black werewolf standing by the punch bowl. He was at least as big as Bade and frightening wasn’t an accurate word.

  There were now over a hundred people present and I heard murmurs throughout the crowd about an incredible makeup job. But that was no makeup. As I looked closer I could see that he was wearing a pair of ripped jeans. It looked like he’d put on a pair of pants way too big for him and then transformed. Shreds of the material still covered all the important parts.

  Someone bumped into me. It was Marcy, and she was drunk. “Hi,” she hiccupped.

  I looked at her costume and couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t bad, just funny. She looked like a bratty school girl in a goofy little dress, complete with a bonnet and piggy tails.

  “Who are you supposed to be?” I asked.

  “Little Miss Muffett. But I still don’t know what a tuffett is.”

  It was then that the wolf’s deep laughter reached my ears, and I recognized him.

  “Have you seen The Big Bad Wolf?” Marcy asked eagerly.

  “Yes,” I said, looking back toward him. “We’ve met.”

  I left Marcy to find her tuffett and made my way to the punch bowl. As I navigated through the sea of people I bumped into Elijah. He and two of his fellow police officers had dressed as The Three Little Pigs.

  “How are you?” he yelled above the music.

  “I’m good.”

  I hadn’t heard much from Elijah since Alfred’s return. I think he’d been afraid to call, but we’d spoken a few times in town. Mostly we’d kept in touch through Kat. It was good to see him and as he smiled around his piggy nose, I chuckled.

  The three of them were wearing full body pig suits with prosthetic snouts.

  “You guys are hilarious,” I told him.

  “A sense of humor should never be wasted.” He smiled.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said another familiar voice.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Luther. I had known Luther since junior high school, though we hadn’t seen each other in years until recently. As it turned out, in the years we’d been apart, my old classmate had been turned into a werewolf. His ex-wife had attacked him and in the struggle she was accidentally killed. Yes, Luther was all grown up now, but his sense of humor had not changed. He was wearing a short blue dress, complete with petticoat and white fishnet stockings. His long white blond hair hung in ringlets with little red ribbons.

  I doubled over laughing. “What are you supposed to be?”

  One of the other pigs with Elijah snorted when he laughed, and my eyes watered as I practically howled.

  “I’m Goldilocks.” He smiled broadly.

  Just as I was beginning to catch my breath John, the DJ from club Red, walked up. He was one of The Three Bears. I introduced Elijah to Luther and quickly excused myself in another attempt to reach The Big Bad Wolf.

  When I finally got close enough to talk, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to be there. He was bigger than Bade, though only slightly. His muscular physique was nearly as impressive as it was in his human form. One of his monstrous hands was wrapped precariously around a punch glass he was lapping from when he thought no one was looking. I steeled my courage and stepped up to him.

  “Hello, Red,” the deep rumble of his voice vibrated along my skin. It had been too long since I had heard that voice.

  Even deepened as it was from the change, I would have known it anywhere.

  “Marco, what are you doing here?”

  “Your friend invited me,” he said, lapping at the punch.

  “Like this?” I gestured toward him.

  “I promise not to bite or scratch anyone,” he said bitterly.

  The pain in his voice stung. I hadn’t meant to offend.

  “I’m sorry, but you are contagious in this form.”

  “And I’m not hurting anyone,” he said.

  He looked at me then and my heart beat faster, but not entirely with fear. I recognized the dark chocolate eyes that looked down at me, and they were kind. He reached out a clawed hand and I gasped when he threw back my hood.

  “You look beautiful, Red.”
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br />   “Thank you,” I whispered.

  I trembled as his fur brushed against my cheek. Seeing Bade as a man, and then a werewolf had not affected me this way. You’d think that after nearly eight years of werewolf hunting I’d have gotten used to the sight. But I’d never had someone I cared about show up at a party as a werewolf. A real werewolf. I had known what Marco was, but seeing the beast frightened me. I remembered Sam’s warning again and was just thankful I hadn’t seen him change.

  If I could understand something or make it familiar to me, I would no longer be afraid. I reached trembling hands toward his face and Marco lowered his head so that I could stroke him.

  “Don’t be afraid of me, Red. I can’t bear to see that look on your face.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said shakily. “I can’t help it.”

  I pulled his enormous muzzle closer and looked into the eyes of a man I thought I hadn’t missed. “Your eyes....”

  “I can keep them from turning,” he said softly. “I thought the amber would frighten too many people.”

  “If they could make it past this,” I stroked his face, “I think the eyes wouldn’t faze them.

  “I needed to see you. Don’t punish me, Red.” His voice was kind, but I was still afraid. Marco put down the punch.

  The look in his eyes was determined as he turned back to me.

  He extended one clawed hand toward me and I hesitated.

  “You can trust me, Red,” he almost whispered.

  I placed my small hand in his and let Marco lead me into the nearby trees, away from the crowd. How drastically my judgment had changed and all because of him. It would never have occurred to me even just a year ago to have let a werewolf get me alone. But this was no mere werewolf. This was the alpha male of the local wolf pack, and he was scarier than I could have ever anticipated judging from the handsome face I was accustomed to.

  “Close your eyes,” he said gently.

  At first I just shook, but I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt his powerful arms wrap around me and the fur of his chest touched my face. I whimpered.

  “Shh,” he said as he stroked my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you would feel this way. Not after what you’ve been through and the things you’ve seen.”

  I focused on his voice and felt my heartbeat begin to slow to a more normal pace.

  “Red, I know you’ve seen other werewolves. It’s me,” he pleaded.

  I wanted to cry. I knew I was hurting Marco’s feelings, but I couldn’t seem to get a grip. “I have seen others,” I said, my voice was breathy. “But in my defense, you’re the scariest, and you’re hugging me.” I gulped.

  He laughed and that deep masculine rumble helped to break the illusion. It was Marco that held me, not a monster.

  I rubbed my face against the fur of his chest and breathed in his familiar scent. I let the smell of him wash over my mind and comfort me like it had before, when I was hurt and I had needed him. This beast that held me was Marco and I was in no danger.

  “Marco,” I breathed as I embraced him.

  “Are you alright?” he asked softly. “I hear your heartbeat slowing down.”

  “Yes. I think I’ll be alright, but don’t let me go.”

  My eyes filled with unexpected tears as he squeezed me tighter. I brushed against his inner thigh and realized Marco had dropped to one knee to embrace me. God, I’d missed him. Even the beast who stood before me could not change that, for underneath his fur was the man that I remembered.

  We stayed that way for several minutes with my face pressed tightly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

  His fur was soft. By the time I started to pet him, I think he figured out it was safe to speak.

  “Kat told me what you’d be wearing,” he confessed. “In light of what I am, and what she’s named me, I couldn’t resist,” he said, obviously referring to Kat nicknaming him The Big Bad Wolf.

  I laughed softly and he said, “We’re a perfect match.”

  After a few more moments of silence he asked, “Where’s Alfred?”

  “He couldn’t be here. But I’m sure Kat told you that, or you wouldn’t be here like this.”

  “Are you happy?” he asked. “Kat said that you were happy.”

  “You’ve been talking to Kat?”

  “Just once.”

  “Sometimes I wonder whose side she’s on.”

  “She’s on yours,” he said gently. “Kat loves you. She wants you to be happy. But she’s a romantic at heart ... and I think she feels sorry for me.”

  “I won’t lie to you Marco, I really am happy ... But, I’ve missed you,” I breathed against his fur. “I didn’t think I had until I saw you again.”

  “I’ll continue to keep my distance,” he said sadly. “But if you’re ever not happy ... you know where to find me.”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I know where to find you. But what you and Kat don’t realize is that I cannot resist forbidden fruit when the tree grows in my back yard.”

  He laughed again and it made his fur vibrate against my face. In spite of the situation Marco’s laughter made me feel good. It lightened the mood and my heart. He let me pull back from him and I looked into his eyes once more.

  “Can Bade keep his eyes from turning, too?” I asked.

  I saw Marco’s brow knit in thought. “No, he can’t. Bade’s eyes just never turn. And when have you seen Bade?”

  I told Marco about everything that had happened with Richard and all that went on the night he’d been abducted.

  “I knew about everything else. David told me. But he left out the fact that Bade was there.”

  I heard a threat in Marco’s voice. “You won’t hurt him?” I asked about David.

  “He was deliberately consorting with someone who openly threatens me.”

  “But, Marco....”

  “That’s why he left it out of his story, and why he must be punished.”

  I looked horrified and he explained, “That’s how the pack works. I can’t go easy on someone just because I like them.

  David knew better.”

  I could see the logic in what Marco said, but I still felt sorry for David. Marco really was the scariest werewolf I’d ever seen, and I would hate to see him angry.

  “There’s one more thing. After Bade helped us he said, ‘tell Marco we’re even.’ What was he talking about?”

  Marco sighed and looked at the ground. “Do you remember the night when you and the cop were kidnapped?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, word of what he’d done had just reached me, and I was an hour away. I changed in order to travel more quickly and made my way to you.”

  “You were coming to save me?”

  “Yes, but Alfred beat me to it. When I arrived you were struggling with Bade while Alfred shot down the others.”

  I had a flashback of a large dark male werewolf knocking Bade off of me.

  “You saved me.”

  “And him, when I unintentionally knocked him out of the way of Alfred’s gunfire. When he thanked me, I pretended I’d saved him on purpose.”

  “Why?”

  “In the hopes that there might be some peace between us.” He looked at me as he pleaded, “Understand, Red, this man was my brother. No matter what he might do, or even if I end up having to kill him, I love him.”

  “I understand.”

  I also understood that somewhere in the battle going on that night Marco might have seen Julie’s crumpled body. I felt guilty for his sake, but not hers.

  As we walked back into the clearing Marco froze.

  “Who’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing?”

  I followed his eyes and saw Charles. “That’s Charles Xander. He’s Kat’s boyfriend.”

  “He’s a werewolf,” Marco growled. “And he’s one of Bade’s.”

  “What?”

  “How long have they been dating?”

  I counted on my fingers. “About six months.�
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  “And you didn’t know?”

  “I’ve never met him.”

  “Is there some place we can talk to Kat in private?”

  I sent Marco to the back of the house and met him there after I found Kat. She took one look at Marco and jumped.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s alright, Kat. It’s Marco,” I explained.

  She nodded, but still looked uneasy. She was clearly afraid, but reacted much better than I had. I suppose my feelings for Marco had made seeing his wolfman form more difficult for me.

  “We need to talk,” his deep voice rumbled.

  We followed Kat into the kitchen where Marco said, “You might want to sit down.”

  Kat took a seat, but her eyes never left Marco. The top of his head nearly reached the large beams in her ceiling.

  “Whatever it is, just tell me. The suspense is killing me,”

  she insisted. I touched her shoulder comfortingly as I walked past and heard her thoughts, “And you’re scaring me.”

  “How long have you been seeing Charles Xander?”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “Have you been having sex with him?” He asked bluntly.

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Rough sex?” Marco pressed.

  Apparently having a werewolf question her about her sex life was a bit much for Kat. “Just what are you getting at?”

  she asked indignantly.

  “Your boyfriend is a werewolf,” Marco said.

  Kat just stared at us both like she was waiting for the punch line.

  “You’re serious.”

  Marco knelt beside her chair. “Has he ever scratched you?”

  “No,” she almost whispered.

  “But you’ve been having sex, and you didn’t know?” he pressed.

  “That’s right. But why do you keep asking about the sex? I don’t understand.”

  “Most new werewolves have to learn control in order to prevent at least a partial, if not complete transformation during orgasm.”

  “Excuse me?” Kat and I both asked.

  “It takes practice.” He glanced at me and I blushed.

  “There’s a temporary loss of awareness then, and the sex calls out the beast. That’s one of the main reasons werewolves don’t normally date humans. That and the fact that their strength alone might accidentally break something.”