Fangs and Fur

by M. A. Church

  Bert wasn’t in a rush to get back. In fact, he kind of dreaded it.

  When they finally arrived, Alvin followed Bert through the cabins on their way to his home. As they walked, Bert picked up the scents of the enforcers and Councilmembers. An enforcer—Bert thought it might be Rhett but wasn’t sure since he’d only seen Rhett for a brief moment—was speaking to other members, along with another jaguar shifter who smelled like a delta.

  Tensions were still high in Bert’s jamboree, but there was an overwhelming sense of relief too. Bert noticed several members were actually out and about, talking with some of the enforcers. Some even tentatively waved and smiled at him. That was a first, and it was nice to know they were glad to see him. Before, most scurried home and hid in a desperate bid not to draw Hogan’s or his betas’ attention. As a group, they were so downtrodden. Living under Hogan’s rule installed fear in every last one of them.

  Still, though, their eyes held wariness, and under that, soul-deep fatigue. But that small spark of hope showed in their eyes. The youngsters played outside now, several running by as he and Alvin walked.

  Unease flittered through Bert. How many times could his jamboree withstand having their hopes raised, only to be brutally crushed yet again? He shook his head, annoyed with himself. There was no reason to think the Shifter Council wouldn’t help them, but trust was hard-earned.

  There was a flash of shame when he stopped in front of his rough-hewn, shabby cabin. Quickly he glanced at Alvin. Even in animal form, there was a pinched look on Alvin’s face. Well, that was reassuring. Not. Bert didn’t blamed Alvin for his disgust. His home was basically two rooms with a loft.

  There was a small porch he’d built with scavenged materials, and chopped wood was stacked at both ends. By the door there were two Adirondack chairs someone had thrown out and Bert brought home. Fortunately his cabin had trees next to it that provided much-needed shade.

  He shifted and stepped onto the small deck. “Home sweet home,” Bert mocked.

  Alvin shifted too, then sliding his hand behind Bert’s neck. “Babe, don’t. The condition of the housing and land isn’t something anyone here should be embarrassed over, because it’s not your jamboree’s fault. It was Hogan’s.”

  “Yeah, well, just because someone says you shouldn’t be embarrassed doesn’t negate the fact that you are. Dammit, I know Hogan’s responsible for the fact we practically lived like refugees, but it’s still embarrassing. I saw your reaction earlier—your disgust—at my home.”

  “Oh, babe, it wasn’t disgust.” Alvin sighed. “It was horror at how you were forced to live. No one should have to live in such poverty.”

  Alvin’s touch helped wash away the sense of shame, but still. Bert hated Alvin seeing just how bad he lived. He dropped his eyes, and of course, the first thing he saw was that magnificent cock of Alvin’s. His own twitched in appreciation, and thoughts of his dreadful living conditions scattered. Little tingles of pleasure raced through him. He swallowed noisily. What a perfect mouthful. Long without being too long, and thick enough that he’d feel it without walking funny the next day. He wanted it in him again.

  Bert pried his gaze away from Alvin’s cock and slowly trailed it up Alvin’s body. Fuck, Alvin was ripped. Bert swallowed again. Nerves danced up his spine, and he caught himself rocking from foot to foot.

  Their time together before was always rushed. Frantic touches and hurried lovemaking was all they knew. They’ve never had the chance to truly explore each other. Now there was no need to keep an eye on the clock and… fuck, Bert didn’t know how to act.

  Alvin released Bert’s neck and nudged Bert’s chin up. “Hey, what’s wrong? I can feel the tension rolling off you.”

  “It’s weird seeing you here.” At the look on Alvin’s face, he rushed on. “Jeez, that didn’t come out right. I don’t mean actually having you here, but… the lack of pressure or the need to be on guard, and I don’t…. I just….”

  Alvin threaded his fingers through Bert’s short hair and pulled Bert closer. Bert leaned into the embrace, resting his hands upon Alvin’s hips. He’d never noticed how equal in height they were. Or how flawlessly they fit together. Alvin’s lips were right at the perfect kissing level. His cock brushed against Alvin’s.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Alvin whispered.

  Shivers raced across his skin at the soft puff of breath from Alvin’s words. He tilted his head, and Alvin brush his lips across Bert’s. This time it wasn’t frantic, and Bert marveled at the softness of Alvin’s lips.

  Moaning, he pressed closer, opening up. Alvin’s tongue swept inside. Bert’s cock swelled to full hardness, rubbing against Alvin’s. His desire spiked, his scent mixing with the muskiness of Alvin’s and that always-present aroma of coffee. He wanted to touch every part of Alvin, and then do it all over again with his tongue. Find every spot that would make Alvin squirm, pant, and whine with need. Then he wanted to….

  His stomach growled. Loudly.

  Alvin ended the kiss, smiling softly. “Hungry?”

  Bert blushed from the tip of his ears to his toes. So much for not showing up hungry. “Not exactly the type of growl I was hoping to make, unfortunately. But yeah, I am a little. And we’re outside and buckass naked too.”

  Snickering, Alvin stepped back but grasped Bert’s hand. “I forgot where we were.”

  “Me too. You kissed me and…. I’m probably going to sound like a sap, but everything else faded away.”

  “If you’re sap, then so am I, because the same thing happened to me.” Alvin glanced at the shack, then back at Bert. “My clothes should be in there. How about we dress and find out what’s going on? Maybe there’s food too.”

  “Sure.” Dreading what Alvin was about to see, Bert nevertheless threw open his door. Kind of like he’d thrown open his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  “IT’S NOT locked?” Alvin asked.

  Bert huffed in what could only be amusement.

  Unsure what was so funny, Alvin stepped inside. The stifling heat nearly drove him back outside. Holy fuck, it hot in there.

  To the left of the door, he saw a counter made from mismatched tile, with a small sink. Above that was an open window with a scrap of material for a curtain. An ancient black minifridge sat under the counter, and an old, small white microwave that had seen better days perched on a shelf above the fridge. A nice, well-built hutch—which was surprising, considering the other things he saw there—held several chipped bowls, plates, and a few glasses, along with tins of food and boxed meals sitting out too.

  Bert nudged Alvin farther into the cabin, and Alvin up. Above the kitchenette, someone had built the loft he assumed held Bert’s bed. Damn, Alvin bet Bert couldn’t sit up without hitting his head.

  “Keep going,” Bert said quietly.

  Three steps and Alvin stood in the living area. A ladder led up to the loft, with a rickety card table with a fold-up chair underneath. Was that his kitchen table? A dingy love seat of indiscriminate color—with an old, small rug sitting in front of it—was the only seating beside that fold-up chair.

  Alvin’s clothes were lying on the couch, so he slipped on his jeans and checked his pockets. Thankfully his cell phone was still there. And fuck putting on a shirt; it was too damn hot. While he dressed, Bert disappeared into the bathroom. He returned wearing shorts.

  “Hey, it’s too hot for jeans. It looks like we’re close to the same size. You want to borrow some shorts?” Bert held them out.

  “Actually, that sounds good.” Alvin pulled his phone out and changed. He slipped the phone in the front pocket and dropped his jeans on the couch, already feeling cooler.

  He noticed a well-built end table that appeared to be handmade next to the couch, with an ugly lamp on it. Another window in the living area, also with a curtain made from scrape material, helped let a breeze in too.

  Now he knew what Bert found so funny earlier. There was nothing worth stealing.

  If Hogan wasn’t
already dead, Alvin would kill him again. Happily.

  Alvin glanced down the length of the room. Passed the potbellied stove was the door Bert disappeared into earlier. Near that was another window with an air-conditioning unit in it. Alvin turned on the lamp but nothing happened.

  “Shit, the electricity isn’t on.” Alvin wiped his forehead with his arm.

  “Wonder if the water is on yet.” Bert walked to the sink and turned the faucet. “Guess not.”

  “Jesus, seriously?” How could an Alpha allow members of his jamboree to live like this? Infuriated, Alvin fished his phone out of his pocket and called Dylan. Something had to be done. Now.

  “Hey, Alvin. I’d heard you and Bert were back and that he shifted. I was just about to call you,” Dylan said. “How is… everything?”

  Alvin shot a quick look in Bert’s direction. “We’re good. He’s good. Listen, we’re at Bert’s cabin, but there’s no electricity and no running water. What the hell, man? We can’t stay here in these conditions.”

  “I know.” Dylan sighed. “Councilman Eagle contacted the utility company to get services turned back on right after you left.”

  “So, why aren’t they on?”

  “Red tape, I guess. Plus, some new lines had to be run for electricity. Don’t know what the holdup on the water was, but the good news is, everything will be on by this evening.”

  “Evening? Fuck.” Alvin wiped his hand across his damp forehead again. It was sweltering in there.

  “I know. I’m sorry. There’s no utilities, they hardly had any food, and these people are basically wearing rags, and… and then there’s… never mind.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just nothing.” Dylan swore softly. “Fuck, Alvin. The members all looked half-starved, and they watch us with these haunted eyes, and… and I’m not equipped to deal with this kind of horror. I’m not an Alpha. My heart’s just breaking.”

  “Believe me, I know. Firsthand.” Did he ever, but Alvin had the feeling there was something else going on beside the condition of the jamboree members, something Dylan didn’t want to talk about.

  “Look, the jamboree house has electricity and running water,” Dylan said. “Of course that bastard Hogan wasn’t going to go without. Anyway, Councilman Eagle sent Rhett and me to get food a few days ago, and we’re serving it buffet-style here at the main house. Just come on and eat. You don’t have to wait.”

  At the jamboree house? As much as Alvin didn’t want to go, it made the most sense having the food there since they had lights and running water. “Good. We’re hungry.”

  “There are cases of water, hygiene products, and so on for the members if you want to take some. Oh, and snacks to take home, so you don’t have to run to the jamboree house every time you want to nibble.”

  “Sounds like the jamboree house is the base of operations,” Alvin said.

  “For now, at least. You’re also welcome to hang out there, but it stinks of Hogan still, so Bert might not be comfortable.”

  Bert shook his head fiercely.

  “Yeah, that’s a no,” Alvin related.

  “I figured. None of the members here want to hang around longer than necessary either. Most of them are staying outside since it’s too hot indoors. You could also get Bert to show you the stream not far from here. I’m sure he could find a private area for you two if he’s not in the mood to socialize yet.”

  “I guess it’s better than nothing.” Alvin looked to Bert, who shrugged. “At least the water will cool us off.”

  “Well, come and eat first. Enjoy the time off while you can. Also, can Bert speak to Councilman Eagle, and maybe Rhett too, about what happened to him soon, you think?”

  Alvin shot Bert a quick glance. Bert nodded.

  “We’ve barely walked in the door. Give him a chance to adjust.”

  “I understand. I do, really. Just… there’s a certain enforcer breathing down my neck who’s wanting to talk to Bert now that he’s back,” Dylan grumbled.

  “Damn, that was fast. We seriously just got here,” Alvin said.

  “‘Fast’ should be this guy’s middle name,” Dylan snapped. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to take your head off. I need this guy off my ass, so do your best. Please. For my sake.”

  Now that was interesting. “You do mean Enforcer Carrick, right?”

  Dylan groaned. “The one and only.”

  Alvin practically heard the eye-roll over the phone. “Problem?”

  “Only an endless supply of them.”

  That answered absolutely nothing. “O-okay, then. Well, this should help lighten the load. Dun is dead. Instead of clearing out, he must have been stalking Bert. Or just dumb luck had him running across Bert.”

  “Fuck! Is Bert okay?” Dylan asked.

  “He’s fine. Actually, between the two of us, we killed Dun.”

  “Hot damn, Rob will be pleased to hear that!” Dylan exclaimed.

  “I bet. Pass the word on, will you? We’re going to head up to the jamboree house. Why don’t you meet us and I’ll introduce you to my mate?”

  “Is that okay with Bert?”

  Bert nodded.

  “Yeah, he’s good with it,” Alvin said.

  “Great. I’m already at the jamboree house, so I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Alvin disconnected the call. What an interesting conversation that was. “Ready?”

  “Yes. By the way, I have some sandals if you’d rather wear those instead of tennis shoes.”

  “Trying to keep me as naked as possible?” Alvin asked, grinning. He was totally on board with the plan, if that was the case.

  Bert blushed. “That, and I like seeing you wearing something of mine.”

  Alvin enjoyed the color brightening Bert’s face. His mate was a shy one. That wasn’t to say Bert was afraid. He was a delta, after all. There was strength in that half-starved body, and a stubborn streak a mile wide. But more importantly, Bert was loyal. And honest. How he managed to endure under Hogan’s reign was a testament to his will to survive.

  Hand in hand, they walked toward the jamboree house. Everything still looked downtrodden, but laughter from the children playing outside cut through the gloom. Efforts to pick up the trash lying around had already started. Adults nodded as they strolled past. Alvin saw what Dylan meant about the members looking half-starved and wearing ragged clothing.

  His heart hurt.

  As they approached the jamboree house, the front door opened and Dylan trotted down the steps. Other than Bert, Alvin could honestly say he’d never been so glad to see somebody.

  “Hey! I was keeping an eye out for you two.” Dylan stuck his hand out to Bert. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dylan Sandusky, beta to Alpha Grady Williams of the Moon Valley jamboree, and computer extraordinaire.”

  “Nice to meet you too.” Bert shook Dylan’s hand.

  “Dylan? This is my mate, Delta Bert Morris,” Alvin said.

  “Well, I was a delta. I don’t know if I should still claim that title, considering,” Bert said after they finished shaking hands.

  “As far as I know, all ranked members still hold the same rank they held before,” Dylan said. “But yeah, that’s something to be addressed once there’s a new Alpha.”

  “Oh.” Faintly Bert shook his head. “Of course. I’m sure he’ll probably bring his own. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Speaking of, has anything been said about who will take over?” Alvin asked.

  “No formal announcement has been made.” Dylan shrugged. “There just hasn’t been enough time yet. But I did overhear Rob telling Rhett they had someone in mind.”

  “Rob?” Bert asked.

  “Oh, sorry. Councilman Eagle’s first name is Rob. When he first introduced himself, he gave us permission to use it,” Dylan said. “Okay, enough small talk. I’m sure you guys are starving. Why don’t the both of you follow me inside and I’ll show you where we’re set up?”

  “Sounds
good to me.” Bert rubbed his stomach.

  “After you.” Alvin grinned at Bert. The summer breeze shifted, and the scent of something good drifted to them. Alvin heard Bert’s stomach rumble.

  “Huh. Would you look at that?” Dylan nudged Bert as they walked up the steps of the jamboree house. “Alvin is actually letting someone get between him and food.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Alvin playfully growled when Dylan turned back to smirk at him.

  “You must be really something special.” Dylan winked at Bert.

  “Oh, he is. He most definitely is.” Alvin made a point of pushing between Bert and Dylan. Dylan was only playing around, and he knew that, but seeing another male bat his eyes at Bert, who still didn’t wear Alvin’s mark, triggered his instincts.

  Snorting at being pushed out of the way, Dylan showed them where the food was.

  ONCE THEY filled their plates high, Alvin followed Bert to where tables were set up in case anyone wanted to sit outside. Fortunately not many had showed up to eat yet, so they were pretty much alone.

  Until he smelled the food, Alvin hadn’t thought he was hungry. But now that he had a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs, a pile of bacon, yummy-looking sausages, and toast in front of him, he couldn’t wait to dig in. Bert sat across from him, steadily making his way through his plate.

  Since both of them were more interested in the food than talking, Alvin let his mind wander. Whoever became Alpha of this jamboree better have deep pockets. While getting their food, he noticed the inside of the jamboree house looked just as bad as the outside. The furniture might be in better condition than what he saw in Bert’s home, but there was still stained carpet, peeling paint, and holes in the walls.

  Granted, the Council would help, but a new Alpha was expected to share in the cost. A lot of work was needed here, both physically and mentally.

  Alvin sincerely hoped he could talk Bert into returning to Grady’s jamboree. Alvin wasn’t afraid of hard work, but what was needed here was almost overwhelming. And in Alvin’s opinion, getting Bert away from here was the best thing for him.