Fangs and Fur

by M. A. Church

  But not me, I take it. “What happened to Hogan? How did he die?”

  Dylan tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he drove. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not sure we’ll ever find out, but he’s dead, and that’s all that I care about. The threat is gone.”

  Alvin stayed silent as they drove through their jamboree lands, then onto the highway and took the exit to the interstate. Yes, Hogan might be dead and the threat to Cade gone, but the damage Hogan left in his wake wouldn’t be as easily dismissed.

  Almost as if sensing Alvin didn’t want to talk, Dylan turned on the radio. Alvin was thankful. His emotions were all over the place, and he was worn out. Tired to the bone. Talking about what he and Bert had been through didn’t help. Instead, it was kept fresh. Well, fresher. Every punch, every kick, every heartbreaking scream circled in Alvin’s head, no matter how hard he tried not to think about it.

  The more agitated he became, the more his cat paced in his mind, fangs bared and hissing, wanting out. The urge to shift annoyed him like an itch he couldn’t reach. His skin tingled with the pressing need. But as badly as he wanted to lose himself in his cat, he didn’t dare. Human practicality was what was needed, not the predatory nature of his cat. Not yet, at least.

  About an hour into the drive, Alvin was fairly sure he had enough control to talk about Bert without wanting to rip something to pieces. “Do you know anything about the betas who beat Bert?”

  Dylan turned down the radio. “If you’re talking about the two in the video, one is dead and the other is missing.”

  Fuck. Missing? Dylan’s statement hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. Then the threat wasn’t over, not to Bert. “Do you know who’s missing?”

  Dylan clutched the steering wheel. “Not really sure, but you can bet that’ll be one of the first things I ask when we get there. Whoever it was should have been contained. I promise you, the ones who did this will pay.”

  “Why would Grady be concerned? I mean, Hogan is dead. Like you said, the threat to Cade is nonexistent now.”

  Dylan jerked his gaze to Alvin. “Dude. Really?” Huffing, Dylan looked back at the road. “Actually, I’m glad you brought this up. I said we would talk, and since you seem calmer, we’re going to.”

  Well, hell. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

  “Those assholes hurt Bert. No matter what went on before that, they hurt your mate. You’re a member of this jamboree, and they beat your man. Forced you into an untenable situation, a situation you couldn’t win. Do you honestly believe Grady would let this go?”

  Alvin flinched. “But I—”

  “Tried to kidnap his mate, yes. Betrayed Grady’s trust, yes. Look, I’m not trying to be harsh, but those are the facts. On the other hand, greed wasn’t what motivated you to do such a thing. It was pure desperation on your part. You screwed up, Alvin, but after seeing that video… yeah.”

  “But—”

  “Your punishment was being stripped of your delta position, something I know you treasured. I won’t blow smoke up your ass either. Some members may turn against you. It isn’t going to be easy, but Grady is giving you a chance to redeem yourself. Meet him halfway.”

  Could he? Could Alvin put the past behind him and move on?

  “I want to.”

  Dylan took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Alvin. “Then let me give you a little advice. You have to find a way to forgive yourself first. You do that, and the rest will come.”

  If only it was that easy.

  Instead of voicing his thoughts, Alvin stared out the window. After a while, Dylan pulled over and filled up. Once that was done, they were back on their way. It wouldn’t be much longer.

  Another hour or so passed.

  “We’re getting close,” Dylan said.

  “Good. I’m ready to be there.”

  They crossed the boundary lines, and Alvin looked around. Immediately he noticed how rutted the streets were, how trash littered the side of the road. The grass desperately needed cutting too. The farther into the territory they got, the more obvious it was just how bad things were.

  Businesses that were open stood in disrepair, with few cars in the parking lots. Many more were abandoned and boarded up. Things only worsened as they drove. The majority of the homes were shabby. Hell, they were little better than shacks.

  “Fuck.”

  Dylan sighed. “Yup, it’s bad, isn’t it? According to the GPS, we should be nearing the jamboree house shortly.”

  Alvin shook his head. “Doesn’t look like anyone is going to greet us.” He understood things were chaotic, but still. Where were the patrols? Why was nobody watching the borders?

  “It was the same way when Grady and I came here. No way would anybody have gotten this far without several of our vehicles surrounding them. But, to be honest, I imagine the Council has its hands full and hasn’t had time to deal with the lack of security.”

  “I guess.” The few times he and Bert had managed to sneak off, Alvin had gotten the impression things were bad, but this was much worse than he thought.

  Dylan slowed, turned onto a gravel road, and passed several more shacks. Fuck, were people actually living in those? No way Grady would’ve allowed a jamboree member to reside in such a hovel. Or hell, even an animal.

  “This is just…. I have nothing. No words.”

  “Oh, it gets worse. Just wait.”

  Flabbergasted, Alvin dragged his gaze away from the desolation surrounded them and looked at Dylan. “How can anything be worse than this?”

  Dylan stopped in front of a residence. There were a couple of SUVs and a stretch limo parked in front. Dylan waved his hand. “Hogan’s jamboree house.”

  Alvin’s mouth fell open. “Fuck me. Really?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Again, the neglect was painfully obvious, but what was more harrowing was the shroud of evilness hanging over the place.

  “It certainly shows how bad he let things get.”

  “I agree,” Dylan said. “Our jamboree house is old like this place, but it damn sure doesn’t have this sense of hopelessness surrounding it.”

  Sickened, Alvin took in the surroundings.

  The shrubs that still lived needed to be trimmed and watered. Hell, might as well pull them up and start over. Grass struggled to grow, and off to the side of the house, a rusted-out truck sat on blocks. Broken limbs from nearby trees were scattered across the lawn. Shutters dangled off the windows, and the house itself needed several coats of paint. And a new roof. And, and….

  “It should be razed to the fucking ground.”

  The door to the jamboree house swung open, and a tall man stepped out. Even from inside the SUV, Alvin could feel his power.

  “Well, looks like the greeting committee awaits us. Shall we?” Dylan asked, opening his door.

  Alvin gulped. Whoever was standing on the porch was fucking intimidating and damn powerful. Alvin unbuckled. “Let’s get this over. I need to find Bert.” He stepped out and followed Dylan to where the stranger stood.

  “Gentlemen, I’m Councilman Rob Eagle. May I inquire as to who you are?”

  Dylan stepped forward. “I’m Dylan Sandusky, beta to Alpha Grady Williams of the Moon Valley jamboree.” He gestured to Alvin. “This is Alvin Hall, also part of the Moon Valley jamboree. He’s Bert’s mate.”

  Chapter Three

  RUN!

  Muscles bunched. Heart pounded.

  Escape!

  The pain. The agony.

  Hide!

  Unknown hands touched him and fear spiked. No, not again. Never again would the big cat allow such pain. What little human rationale he managed to retain after shifting fled. Only animal instinct remained. Turning his head, he snapped at whoever hovered behind him.

  Get out!

  Nothing made sense but the need to flee the pain, the horror. Urgent words filled the air around him, their meaning lost, and that added to his fear. Light filtered through the nearby
hole in the shack, beckoning him.

  There! Go!

  He sprang across the room and exploded through the opening, needing to get away. Jerking his head to the left and the right, he scanned the surrounding area, heart racing. Footsteps pounded behind him as shouts filled the air. Terror exploded in his mind, and he whimpered. No, no, no! He’d die if he went back into that room. He didn’t know how he knew that; he just did.

  Snarling, he lurched forward, heading toward the thick cover of the forest. He passed a body, and recognition teased his mind, but he never slowed. The acidic scent of anger assailed him, along with the tinny aroma of fear and the sour odor of confusion. The stench burned his nose, ratcheting up his anxiety.

  He shivered as he bumbled along, nearly knocking himself off his paws. At least the trailing footsteps and shouts had drifted off.

  Emptiness spread through him. He was unanchored. Adrift. The sun beating down on his back failed to warm him as coldness set in. His vision wavered, and he shook his head frantically.

  So tired. So weak. Hide!

  He stormed toward the forest, seeking escape within the comfort of the trees. Branches snapped, some whipping against his body as he crashed through the underbrush. The small flickers of pain barely registered.

  Birds squawked above him, taking off in a mad flight of feathers. Small prey scrambled out of his way. Again his vision wavered. Something is wrong. Sucking air, he continued to lope along, trying to outdistance the horror he left behind.

  Eventually the sweet scent of water caught his attention, and he veered toward it. Hunger unlike any he’d ever known rose up, demanding his attention, but his thirst was greater. Eating would have to wait. Stumbling to a stop, he crouched at the tree line, scanning the area, looking for threats.

  Can’t fight. Not right now. Something’s wrong.

  Satisfied nothing there was interested in hurting him, he slunk forward, ears twitching as he listened for any sound that didn’t belong. Step by hesitant step, he prowled to the water’s edge. Still nothing triggered his instinct to flee, so he drank desperately.

  After he quenched his thirst, the urge to scout out a spot away from the sun’s incessant rays nearly overwhelmed him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t safe yet. Safe from what, he didn’t know, only that he needed to be farther away.

  A faint voice whispered through his mind that this was the wrong course of action, but the animal side of him stomped it down. Restlessly, the big cat paced near the water’s edge, shaking his massive head as human and animal battled mentally.

  Fuck humans and their materialistic, mercenary needs. All they did was plot and wreak destruction.

  The human side of him resisted, and the cat roared in anger.

  Fuck human mentality. They hurt him. Used him. Broke him and left him to suffer. Why? He couldn’t remember and didn’t care. The animal side of him growled dangerously. No more. They were done with that life whether the human agreed or not. That side melted away under the big cat’s fury. Human rationale and consciousness took a back seat to animal instinct. The cat grabbed control.

  He needed to be away from here, so away he would go. But first, his hunger needed to be appeased. He needed to hunt, but…. Turning his head slightly, he snarled at one of his back limbs. Damaged. Not right. Bringing down deer was out of the question, so he returned to the water to hunt easier prey.

  After a turtle or two, and a nest of eggs he found, energy filled him. Better. Much better.

  He set off, weaving none too gracefully through the trees. The sun lazily moved across the sky as he tottered along. Miles passed. His body ached, but he refused to stop. Like leaves on a breeze, thoughts floated through his mind, but he ruthlessly shoved them aside. The drive to put as much distance between him and the horror he left kept him moving.

  Twilight marched across the land, and he searched for a place to bed down. Bypassing several trees, he continued until he finally found one close to the slow-moving stream he’d been following. It appealed to him, and he dragged himself up it. This was harder than he remembered. Once he was high enough, he draped himself across a large branch and settled in for the night.

  Safety was an illusion, he knew that, but he felt less threatened. But now that he was somewhat relaxed, the thoughts from earlier returned and insisted to be examined. Out of breath from the climb, he laid his head across his paws.

  Broken shards—recent human memories, maybe?—played through his mind. Sighing, he let them come. He caught glimpses of his Alpha hurting him, but he couldn’t remember why. His upper lip curled in anger. Alphas were supposed to protect, not hurt. He was done with taking orders from them.

  And something had apparently happened to his Alpha, because the connection between the two of them was gone. Good. He hated that Alpha. It was a resentment that had built over time—he somehow knew that.

  He growled softly. What kind of Alpha beat his jamboree? Instinct told him not a good one. They couldn’t be trusted. They turned on their members. Hadn’t his own Alpha proved that? His tail thumped against the tree in aggravation, then settled suddenly. Or had he done something to deserve the beatings? No, that didn’t feel right. He closed his eyes, wishing he could remember.

  Why couldn’t he remember?

  His head hurt. This wasn’t normal. Was that Alpha responsible, or had something else happened? No, his Alpha beat him. Hadn’t he? Confused, he stared up at the sky. Fuck it. He no longer cared what happened. He was done with humanity.

  The human side of him reared up again, pushing for dominance, desperate in its need to convey something to him. He shut that side of himself down, burying it deep. Being human had brought them nothing but pain, and the big cat was in control now. He didn’t plan to give up.

  He drifted off, the human side of him finally silent.

  THE FIRST rays of the sun warming the land woke him. Stomach gnawing, he eased down the tree and cautiously made his way back to the stream. He had more energy, although his gait was far from nimble.

  After a thorough inspection of the surrounding area, he crept toward the bank. Lowering his head, he lapped at the water, his ears twitching as he listened for predators. A twig snapped behind him, and he jerked his head up, swinging toward the sound. Something small beat a hasty retreat.

  Damn. There went breakfast.

  Sighing, he turned back to the water, and his reflection gave him pause. Granted, it’d been awhile since he’d paid attention to his visage in this form, but the changes in his face were noticeable.

  Lean. So gaunt.

  A disturbance in the water several feet away caught his attention, and his stomach growled. Carefully he prowled into the water, tracking the fish. Crouching, he waited for the perfect time, then sprang forward, claws at the ready… and missed.

  Disturbed at the lack of power in his back leg, he chased his meal, slamming his huge paws down through the water time and again, splashing his face repeatedly. Aggravated, he shook his head to clear his vision. His prey darted off, and he bound after it. Damn thing was practically running circles around him, and his belly wailed with hunger.

  It zigged when it should have zagged, and he sank his claws into it. Relieved, he secured it in his mouth and stumbled back to the bank. Dropping it, he watched it flop around in amusement. His stomach growled again, reminding him that his amusement could wait until later. Leaning down, he ripped a huge chunk out.

  Once he finished, he hunted along the bank, looking for more unsuspecting prey. After devouring a couple of unlucky frogs, he returned to the water and caught more fish. The water called to him, so he took a few minutes to play in it.

  Finally he meandered onto the bank and flopped down on a comfy-looking patch of grass. Belly full and happy, he allowed himself to rest briefly. The sun shone down, warming him. Nearby, a bird squawked indignantly, and he chuffed at it. Oh, get over yourself. Or better yet, come a little closer and complain. I haven’t had dessert yet.

  Almost as if the bird understood him
, it screeched one more time in outrage and took off. Shrugging, he rolled onto his back and stretched. A twinge in his leg reminded him of his problem, and he flopped onto his side, curling up.

  Slowly he investigated the limb. He growled at the obvious deformity. That was new—something he hadn’t had before. Had he? No, it was new. No wonder his gait was so awkward and the strength in his muscular hind legs noticeably less. Angle boiled under the surface. How had this come to be?

  A human memory fluttered at the edge of his conscience. Before he could tamp it down, a brief vision appeared of him as a human strapped to a chair. As he watched, a thick, scarred boot kicked him repeatedly in the knee. His back limb twitched with phantom pain.

  Broken, whispered through his mind. Shifted while damaged. Permanent now.

  Heartbroken and angered beyond reason, he threw his head back and roared. The sound echoed around him, and the voice in his mind disappeared in the molten explosion of anger.

  Deformed. Damaged.

  Permanent.

  Fucking humans. Nothing, nothing, was worth shifting back into that form for ever again. A wave of desolation swamped him, and the human side of him tried to rise again, wailing there was a reason to shift, that there was… was something worth returning for….

  Hardening his reserve, the big cat shoved the human voice down deep, silencing it again.

  No. There was nothing worth returning to that form for.

  Nothing.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ALVIN STUDIED Councilman Eagle. He definitely had Native American heritage. His long black hair was left loose and hanging down his back. Even though he was dressed in jeans and a nice button-down shirt, he wore his wealth and prestige elegantly.

  Councilman Eagle came down the steps and stopped in front of Dylan. “Greetings, Beta Sandusky. Nice to meet you, although I’m sorry it’s under such circumstances.” He held out his hand.

  Dylan took it and shook. “Same here, Councilman.”

  “Please, call me Rob.” Rob turned from Dylan and stepped toward Alvin. “Greetings to you too, Alvin. Again, I’m sorry we’re meeting in such dire circumstances.” Rob held out his hand.