Gabriel's POV

The stewardesses are watchin' me closely. Used to be I'd have figured it was because of my stunning good looks an' magnetic personality. Not lately, though. Y' see, ever since some bozos started redirectin' flights to Havana back in the sixties, the airlines have trained their personnel to spot anythin' unusual about their passengers. If you're actin' antsy or broody, an' they can't put it down to usual flying jitters, they watch you. An' I'm both jittery, and broody, by turns. They're worrin' I'm gonna pull out a Uzi, even though I went through that damn metal detector at the airport.

I want to tell them not to worry. "Don't sweat it. ladies. Still a coupla days to the full moon, ain't there? Just don't wave raw meat too close to me and we should all be okay."

That's where they got the term lunatic, you know? They used to believe that the moon influenced the unstable, making them worse as it grew toward fullness. Pretty fuckin' accurate in my case, I'm afraid. Lots of people scoff at that these days. But talk to a policeman, or emergency room tech, or mental institution worker, they'll tell you. It does get crazy during the full moon.

I wish I could have a drink. That might help, but it's too early. I got a funny look along with a polite expiation when I asked the flight attendant about it. Now they think I'm a lush. Another reason to watch me.

Christ, ever since that night in the forest, it seems like someone's been watchin' me. Grace, Gerde, the Smiths...Pryin' eyes on me all the time. It's enough to make me want to rip somethin'...

I'm at the back of the plane. I didn't want anyone behind me. It would make me nervous, an' I'm afraid of what I might do now, if I get startled. The restroom is at the end of the aisle, just to my left. It smells faintly of chemicals and human waste, and I wonder if anyone else can smell it, or only I. I seem to be noticing things these days that escape others. The scent doesn't disgust me, as I expect it would have a month ago. Now it's just...interesting.

Two figures are making their way down the aisle toward my seat. One is a handsome young man. His good looks are marred only by the murky, unfocussed look in his brown eyes. He is blind. The second figure is a large golden retriever, in harness, leading him with placid assurance.

As they near, though, the dog hesitates. Then it turns and stands across the aisle, blocking the man's path. He bumps against it and stops. Reaching down, he pats the dog's rough head. "What is it, Grover?" He slides his foot forward cautiously, feeling for an obstruction.

"There's nothin' there." His head turns toward the sound of my voice, and he smiles.

"Thank you. He should only do that if there's something hazardous ahead, but this is only his second time to fly. He may be nervous." He shakes the harness gently. "Grover, forward." The dog whines, and leans heavily against his legs, almost making him stumble. The dog is staring at me.

I stare back, and feel the hair on the back of my neck rising. I don't look away, I don't blink. The dog's whine rises in pitch. He begins to tremble. The blind man can feel the animal's tremors. "Grover, what's wrong, boy?" He pets the animal, feeling over it's tensed body in search of anything that might explain the animals agitation.

I slowly bare my teeth. A soft, low growl rumbles in my chest. "Grover!" He thinks that the dog is making the sound. The dog's ears droop. It lays down, and rolls on it's side to show me it's belly. I reach down and scratch it's belly, gripping it's throat tightly for a moment, letting it know that I accept it's show of submission.

The man says, "I'm sorry about this. He's never acted this way before. Well, except once, when we were at the zoo, and one of the wolves came too close to the fence."

"No problem." He holds out a hand toward me, eyes directed just above my head. "I'm Lawrence Casden."

I shake hands. His grip is smooth and firm. "Gabriel Knight."

"You're an American, Mr. Knight?"

"Gabriel, yeah. I'm from N' Orleans originally."

His face lights with a smile. "Ah, the Big Easy! I try to make it for Mardi Gras every year."

"It's quite a show." I wince. "Sorry."

He laughs. "Don't be. I'm sure sight would enhance the experience, but New Orleans is a feast for all the senses. Grover, forward." Grover gets up, and leads his master on to the restroom, ducking his head humbly as he passes my seat. Well, it seems that I was the alpha male. Here, at least. I seriously doubt that will be the case when I meet von Glower again.

Casden is in the restroom for a moment, then there's the rushing sound of the toilet, and water running. The dog waits patiently outside till the door opens again. He gropes for the harness, missing it twice. I reach out and take his wrist. He stiffens slightly, but when I put his hand on the harness, he relaxes. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Would you like to sit and visit a bit? I been achin' to talk to another American." *I don't want you to go just yet. You're...interestin'.*

I move to the window seat, and he sits in the one beside me. We start to talk. I let the conversation wash over me, making appropriate responses automatically. All the while I'm drinking him in. He's not more than twenty, I think. He's a young, vigorous, healthy male animal. Perfect, except for the eyes. Blind...A combination of strength and vulnerability. Something deep inside me is growling hungrily. *Prey.*

He's talking about clubs. "How many do you suppose there are in New Orleans? Must be hundreds, I suppose." A small laugh. "It's my ambition to visit them all, eventually."

"Ever been to Dominion?" I haven't been myself, but I know of it. It's pretty famous throughout the south, if you're gay.

He goes still for a moment, the smile stiffening a little. At last he says carefully. "Yes, I've been there. I prefer Extremities, though. The dancers are friendlier." Yes, they are. That `friendliness' has gotten the place raided in the past.

We're both silent for a minute. I lean close to him and murmur, "You smell good." He draws in a deep breath. I scent the first faint, musky whiff of arousal.

"Gabriel..." His voice is hesitant. "Could I touch your face? It's how I `see'."

In answer I pick up his hands and place them against my face. He begins to touch me, slowly and gently. His long, smooth fingers skim over my forehead, stroke my brows, dab at my closed eyelids, tickling the eyelashes. They glide down my cheeks and follow the line of my jaw and chin, rasping over the bristles I didn't have the patience to remove before I left. Finally he reaches my mouth. He traces the lips delicately, feeling the slow, smirking smile I can't contain. I let my tongue dart out and lick him. He gasps softly. Before he can draw his hand away, I grab it and take his index finger into my mouth, sucking on it.

He groans quietly. "Don't tease me."

We are alone in our section. I see nothing but the backs of the other passengers' heads to the front. I release his finger, slide my hand back into his thick, dark hair, and pull him toward me. His lips are firm, and warm, and they part quickly when I touch them with my tongue. He tastes even better than he smells.

His hands are roving over my arms, my chest, my back. He pulls away and rubs his face against my shoulder. Grabbing the collar of my leather jacket, he sniffs deeply. His smile is dreamy as he whispers, "Rough trade?"

"The roughest." Taking his hand, I pull him to his feet, open the restroom door, and shove him inside, then follow. I shut the door, twisting the knob that locks it and shows the `Occupied' sign, then turn to him.

He stands against the wall, palms pressed flat behind him, chin lifted, clouded brown eyes still seeming to search. His head turns slightly, and I know he is listening to my breathing in this still, small room. He is waiting, waiting for the predator to spring. Eager prey.

"What are you going to do to me?" The words are plaintive, but there is a husky thread of desire in his voice. This is part of it for him. He needs to be taken, needs to surrender. The beast inside he lunges nearer the surface, slavering.

My own voice is harsh. "This." I grab his head and kiss him savagely. When his mouth opens meekly, I plunge inside, tongue lashing. I suck and lick and bite till his lips are passion bruised, and he is whimpering, fingers scratching at the metal wall behind him.

I release his mouth, and he is panting. I put my lips against his ear and hiss, "You're gonna do what I want, aren't you, pretty?" I grab his crotch, squeezing the firm bulge till he winces. "Aren't you?"

"Yes. Whatever you want."

Sweet, sweet submission. I open his fly and roughly dig out his prick. It's already swollen with lust, dripping with pre-cum. Damn, he got excited fast. I knead his flesh almost violently. He moans, pushing himself farther into my grip. Then I let go and force him to his knees. "Blow me." I say harshly.

He fumbles at my waist, hands sliding down. Of course he has to do it by touch. The thought of him not being able to see, only to feel, excites me even more. When he unzips me, my cock springs out to meet his grasp. I have gone commando, unable to bear the strangling confines of my jockeys.

He holds me, and his tongue flicks out. He misses the first time, but then finds the range. He laps at my cock hear, licking up the clear fluid, dipping his tongue into the tiny slit. I grunt my pleasure, and I see him smile. Again I grab his hair, and plunge deep into his mouth. Now he is the one who grunts as I force him down on my shaft. He shifts, making a little protesting whine, which I ignore. I don't stop till his chin rests on my balls and his nose is buried in my pubic hair. Then I hold him there till he begins to struggle.

When I can tell he's fighting for breath, I loosen my hold and let him pull back a little. I allow him to choose his own movements. He bobs up and down my length, slurping softly. I look down and see that he is pumping his own rigid dick as he sucks me. His free hand grabs my ass, kneading the cheeks through my blue jeans.

I'm getting closer now. I fuck into the hot cavern of his mouth, bumping the back of his throat. Again I make him deep throat me, and I cum in a burning gush. He chokes, trying to pull away, but I hold him fast, growling, "Swallow, bitch! Drink it down." He gulps convulsively, and the squeezing motion draws another jet of sperm from me.

My softening cock slips from his mouth as I haul him to his feet, throwing him back against the counter. I bend and take deep into my mouth. My teeth rake across the top of his cock, and he cums with a shout. I turn my head and spit into the sink. I'm alpha here, and I do not swallow. But I lick him clean with rough tenderness before planting a spermy kiss on his gasping mouth.

The dog is whining outside the door. We silently zip up, and I open the door, peering outside. A stewardess near the front looks back, but I block Lawrence with my own body. After a moment she turns away, and we slip out. Again I direct his hand to Grover's harness, and sit down.

He hesitates a moment, then says softly, "Thank you."

I get out my wallet and extract a business card. Pressing it into his hand, I say, "That's my shop in N' Orleans. I may be back there soon. Stop by and see me sometime if you're down there." He smiles, tucking the card in his pocket, and makes his way up the aisle.

I stare out the window. The physical satiation has dulled the burning buzz that is running through me, at least temporarily. But it will be back in full force soon.

It wasn't enough. It wouldn't have been enough if I had raped his ass. But then, it isn't rape if the victim is willing, is it? As it was, I was still holding back. I have to get to Cascade, and talk to Sandburg. See if he's experiencing what I am. See if we can help each other. Because as that harmless, gentle young man knelt at my feet, sucking me, I was imagining my teeth in his throat, and how sweet the blood would taste...

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 29

Jim's POV

It's late when I get home, past one. And Blair isn't there. I try not to worry. I keep telling myself he's a grown man. There are only human monsters in this city, and he can deal with them. I want to protect him, but I run the risk of smothering him if I go as far as I want to. It pisses him off, and I can't really blame him. By clinging too close, I could push him away.

So I wait. I change into my boxers and a T-shirt and slump on the sofa, legs spread and sprawled. I sit in the dark, flipping through the channels on the tv, never pausing for more than three or four seconds. My thumb freezes on the advance button. The picture is changing so fast that it is almost a stroboscopic blur. The remote drops from my hand, and I zone.

Stupid shit. I should have known better.

Blair's POV

I considered spending the night with von Glower, but he gently insisted that I return to the apartment. "You mustn't alarm your friend, my boy. He could make things...difficult. But perhaps a bit of persuading will make him see the rightness of this." He stroked my cheek. "I'd hate to deny him to you. He IS a magnificent creature. Already closer to us than many."

Before I leave, I take a shower. A very thorough shower. I scrub myself with strong deodorant soap, and wash my hair twice. I need to get von Glower's scent off me, because I'm not ready to deal with Jim about this.

It's past two when I get back to the apartment. I had been tempted to just run home, racing the moon, but I didn't. It wouldn't be safe. Perhaps later...

I know something is off when I open the door. The lights are off, the tv is on, and I can see Jim draped half off the sofa. The reason I know something is wrong is because there's some hair spray lacquered blonde chick on the screen selling cubic zirconia. Jim would watch someone read the phone book and eat popcorn the whole time rather than watch a shopping channel.

I go over to him and bend down for a look. His eyes are open, staring blankly at the screen, and his breathing is slow and shallow. Zoned. The remote is lying on the floor nearby, and I pick it up and put it on the table. Damn it, he knows better than to do that, especially when I'm not here to bring him back. How long has he been gone this time?

I sigh and grip his shoulder, preparing to talk him out of it, bring him back. Then I stop. I stop, and take a good, long look at him. With my free hand I take the remote and hit mute before laying it aside again. The room is quiet, lit only by the frosty flickering of the tube. The flashing light plays over Jim's face, such a beautiful, blank face.

I let my gaze drop the length of his torso. Freidrik is right. He is magnificent. The perfect alpha male animal, in his prime. Suddenly my mouth is watering. Because he IS so strong, so beautiful...and so utterly helpless at this moment.

I take the hem of his shirt, and push it up a little, then stroke the flat belly that I have exposed. Usually the taut muscles will ripple at my touch. Now the only response is the gentle heave of his breath. I push up farther, to his chest. I grope, and my fingers seek out his nipples. I play with them, and they begin to harden. So his involuntary responses are still functioning, the scientist lurking in the back of my brain observes. The beast doesn't care about that, though. The beast just knows that Jim feels good, and smells good. As Von Zell had said in the forest, fuckable.

I stroke and pinch till the little nubs are pebble hard, thrusting against my palms. I can feel his heart beat under my hand, the slow, steady rhythm picking up speed. His expression hasn't changed, hasn't altered one iota. His pupils are dilated, and his normally pale eyes are dark. I'm getting hard in my pants.

I've done it countless times with Jim, joined with him in carnal union. It's been everything from slow, sweet love making to primitive rutting. But it's always been Jim inside me. We never discussed it, it just happened that way. Somehow I always end up on the bottom. And I've enjoyed it. But now...

Dear God, he's just LYING there. So pliant, so vulnerable. *You can't do this, Sandburg. Jim trusts you. You're his Guide, you're supposed to take care of him. Well, he's supposed to take care of me, too. And he seems to feel that a caring relationship includes my taking it up the ass.*

I shake my head at my own thoughts. That's crazy. I've always welcomed Jim, always been a more than willing participant. Now I'm thinking about using him when he's incapable of saying aye or nay. What the fuck is wrong with me?

And even as I think this, my hand creeps down to his boxers, and cups over the mound of his genitals. I squeeze lightly, and feel the response. The proper nerves are being stimulated, and extra blood is being pumped into the tissues. He starts to get hard.

That's all it takes to decide things, a slight thickening. Because now I can tell myself that this is what he wants. That he'll enjoy it as much as I will, and I'm going to enjoy it A LOT.

I'll just have to be careful, not do anything that could bring him out of the zone at an inopportune moment. Because I'm GOING to fuck him, and it would be difficult to impossible with him awake, aware, and ready to fight.

So I'm gentle. I dip my head, and run my tongue over his chest. He tastes like soap and salt. I lap at his nipples, relishing the crinkled texture of the skin. He makes a soft sigh, and I look up sharply. But his expression is still smooth and void. So I move down, working my way down his ribs, his flat belly. I spend a moment darting my tongue into the shallow dip of his belly button.

His flavor intoxicates me. I pull back from him long enough to strip, discarding my clothes impatiently. Then again I crouch naked between his sprawled legs. I grip my own stiffening cock, and stroke it as I bury my face against his fly. I mouth him through the fabric, licking and nibbling, and he grows harder still. Finally I can't stand it anymore. I have to get to him.

If I try and drag the shorts off him, it may snap him out of the zone. I can't have that. I could go to the kitchen for a knife and slice them away, but I don't want to leave him for a second. I use my teeth instead. They're blunt, and human, but with my determined hands, they serve. I can't break the thick elastic at the waist band, but I manage to totally rip them open. The cloth is now nothing but strips and flaps, dangling from the waistband. I shove them aside to reach my goal.

He's positioned perfectly. His hips are forward, butt resting just at the edge of the couch. Presented, as if for this act alone. I reach down and slip a finger into the shadowy crease of his ass, probing for the entrance to his body. I find the little pucker, and push, testing. I am astonished when my finger sinks in easily. There is scarcely any resistance. Then I realize. In his zone, he is totally relaxed. There is no tension in his body. He is completely open to me.

The idea removes whatever little sanity remains. But still I do not simply ravage him. I want to prepare him, even if I can't take the time to go in search of lubrication. I lift his legs a little, and burrow down below his balls. My tongue seeks out the little hole, and I lick lavishly. He's clean, even here. I glide my tongue inside, using as much spit as I can, wetting him. When I think I've moistened the way enough, I hook his legs over my shoulders, and rise up.

I line myself up, positioning the head of my dick right at the little ring, then reach down and grasp his hands in mine. They are loose and warm, fingers slightly fanned. I stare into that blank, placid face, and enter him in one long, smooth stroke.

This is probably the most pain free first penetration ever. I'm buried in him to the root when I stop. He's taken all of it without even a whimper, or a flicker of discomfort, and I'm not built small. This is the first time I've ever been inside another man, and I know right away that it's damn well not going to be the last. It's too fucking good. JIM is too fucking good.

I just stay there for a moment, feeling the tight heat of his body. It's incredible. At last I start to pump, short, shallow strokes. He's so peaceful. Mustn't wake him. But I can't keep that up long. The beast wants to rut, not make love. I begin to move more quickly, using longer strokes. I pull farther back, till I've almost withdrawn, then shove back in hard...

And suddenly Jim's eyes widen, pupils contracting as he focuses. There is a look of astonishment on his face. His hands tighten on mine. And at the exact moment his body suddenly clamps around me, almost painfully, he howls...

Jim's POV

At first I think I'm dreaming. I think somehow I've segued from zone to sleep. I've dreamed about this before. Dreamed of Blair on me, filling me, topping me. It hasn't happened in real life. I think he wants to, and I've been considering it. I love him enough to want to give him what he wants, and I'm curious as to what it would be like. He seems to enjoy it so much.

I am snapped out of my zone by a sudden burst of intense pleasure. I've only felt this particular type of sensation in a very unsexual environment: while having my prostate examined. The doctor once gave it a good bump, and I got hard as a rock. Very embarrassing, but he passed it off as natural, and not uncommon.

But the pleasure is followed by a horrendous burning in my bowels, and the feeling of being split apart. I jerk and yell with the pain, and am suddenly aware of my position.

What the fuck? I'm on my back, my knees up almost to either side of my face, and someone has a hard grip on my hands. Then I realize that the reason my legs are bent like that is because that someone has them up over their shoulders as they lean over me, between my thighs. I guess I was trying to deny it, but it isn't until I realize they are moving that I know that I'm being raped.

One minute I was watching tv, waiting for Blair to come home, the next some guy is shoving his cock up my ass, and I'm just taking it. It's gotten this far, and I haven't even protested. Well, he'll sure as hell hear from me now.

I buck, trying to throw him off. But that just seems to throw me up to meet his lunge. I cry out again in fresh pain, and he grunts with pleasure.

My mind is racing wildly, thoughts careening with little logic. I feel the smoothness of skin against my thighs and crotch, he must have taken the time to strip before starting his attack. God, where's Blair? Did he come home while I was zoned, and is he now lying somewhere in the apartment, injured? Or worse? Is he still out, but likely to walk in on this at any moment?

I somehow get hold of my panic enough to act instead of react. I dial up my vision so I'll be able to give a good description of the bastard...

Blair...

Dear God, that can't be. But it is. His long, silky hair almost covers his face, but it is as much a mark of identification as anything else. "Blair...stop. What are you..."

"Hush, Jim." His voice is rough. "Just relax. I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want this, Blair."

He laughs harshly. One hand is released, and he grabs my cock. I suddenly realize that I'm achingly hard, and slick with pre-cum. He strokes me firmly, and I unconsciously arch into his hand, driving myself farther onto his shaft. He hits my prostate again, and I whimper with pleasure. The pain is starting to recede.

Blair thrusts steadily, and his prick strokes my prostate every couple of insertions. The constant jolts of pure physical stimulation are scrambling my brain. I swing at him, but he's quick, and catches my hand again. He holds it for a moment, then tosses it back at me almost contemptuously, and I don't swing again. He resumes masturbating me, and says, "Quit fighting me, Jim. You know you love this. Just let me fuck you, and I'll make you cum, too."

My mind is numbed now. How often have I heard these words before, while taking a statement from some hapless rape victim? It seems to be the rapists' mantra.

No, I don't love it. It isn't the act itself I hate. I admit to myself that the physical pleasure is far outweighing the pain. It's the way it's being done. I'm being used. I wasn't asked, I wasn't seduced. I'm being taken. And it's humiliating, and frightening. Even when it's Blair, whom I love. Perhaps especially because it's Blair.

The combination of his hand on my prick and his own prick in my ass bring me to a shattering climax. I whimper and strain as my spunk, shoots over his hand and splashes on my belly. This drives him into a frenzy of short, stabbing strokes. I had clenched around him again when I came, and this hurts, a lot. I grit my teeth and endure it, not wanting to scream again.

I feel him cum. Suddenly he pulses inside me, and my back passage is filled with scalding, thick fluid. He is making an animal growl. I haven't heard anything like that since my time in Peru. It's chilling.

He lowers my legs, which are quivering weakly, and lies on top of me. The hair on his chest tickles my sweat slick skin. I just lie beneath him panting, stunned. He strokes my cheek and purrs, "You were so good, baby." He kisses me lightly on the mouth. His voice is gentle, but mocking. "Welcome to my world."

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 30

Jim's POV

The physical pain will pass. The emotional... I don't know. I hope so. It's hard to say. I love Blair, but will that be enough? This was the deepest, most complete betrayal I could ever imagine.

I was helpless. It's tantamount to raping someone who's in a coma. When I'm in a zone, I'm totally defenseless, and Blair knows this. He's my Guide, he's supposed to protect me. It...it's almost like a guardian molesting a child who trusts them. Am I ever going to be able to trust Blair again, as Guide, friend, or lover?

And he acts like he doesn't understand why I'm so upset. Either doesn't understand, or doesn't care. I'm hoping that it's lack of understanding.

I'm angry. Hell, I'm beyond angry. I'm not sure they have words to describe what I'm feeling right now. Although enraged grief comes close.

When he climbed off me, he settled down on the couch by my side, reached for the remote, and clicked over to a sports program. "Here ya go, Big Guy. I know you missed this Bulls game when it was first broadcast." So casual. Like he hadn't just gotten through filling my ass with his spunk.

I stared at him in disbelief. The flickering light of the tube played over his face. It was the first time in weeks that I'd seen him look calm. Oh, there'd been times when he'd looked BLANK, but those were scary. Now he looked almost...serene.

I feel some of my anger begin to drain away in bewilderment. What is happening here? He's totally different than he was a moment ago.

It's the sickness. It has to be. More and more I'm convinced that it isn't just emotional. There has to be some sort of organic problem. Maybe a chemical imbalance? He had such a shock to his system in Germany. Maybe the flood of adrenaline never really let up. If his adrenal gland is stuck in over drive, couldn't that account for the restlessness, the aggression, even the personality change?

Another, more chilling possibility strikes me. What about brain tumors? They have been known to cause sudden and dangerous personality changes. Like that guy Whitman, in Texas. By all accounts he lived an ordinary life. Then he started having mood swings, violent outbursts. One day, out of the blue, he kills his wife and his mother, climbs up an observation tower at a university, and proceeds to kill thirteen people before the police can take him apart. An autopsy, which he requested in a note he left, found a brain tumor.

It's a possibility. Or am I grasping at straws? Dammit, I WANT it to be physical. I don't want to believe that Blair could be so callus. I find it hard to believe that he could be capable of such an act, and I never suspected it. We've lived together for four years. I should have seen some sign, but I've never known him to be anything but gentle, kind, and caring.

I'm not going to report it. I can scarcely believe that, but that's how it is. My `cop voice' is railing at me, ranting about all the times I felt frustrated when I'd sit across from a battered, weeping woman (and yes, a few men, too) who was refusing to press charges because, "He really loves me. He didn't mean to. It just got out of hand." And I'd wonder how a seemingly intelligent person could deceive themselves so thoroughly.

"Not me," I'd think. "Never me." And now I'm reminded of something my father had said to me before. I understand it now. "Never say `I'd never do that', Jim. You don't know WHAT you'll do till you're IN that situation. Things look a lot different when you're inside, looking out." I think I finally understand what he meant.

No, I won't report it. For one thing, we aren't supposed to be having this relationship. Oh, they wouldn't...couldn't fire us. But life could become hellish. I know the attitudes of some of the officers. Our records would go straight out the window, as far as they were concerned, if it were learned that we were sleeping together. And there's a real possibility that someday we could call for back up, and it would be...delayed. I don't like to think about that, but I can't ignore it.

And even if that didn't factor into the situation... No matter how we try, rape is an embarrassing crime. Particularly if you are a man, worse if the perpetrator is your chosen partner (that brings it under domestic violence), and particularly humiliating when you are the physically stronger of the two. I doubt if many people would believe that Blair could overcome me with sheer brute force, and I can't explain about the zones. I can imagine what a defense attorney would make of that.

I'm drawn out of my mental rambling by the feel of his hand on my thigh. He's engrossed in the game, but he has his hand on my leg, stroking idly. Like he's petting a cat. I shove his hand away. He looks over at me. One dark brow lifts. "So, it's gonna be like that, is it?"

"Blair," I have to stop. I feel like I'm choking. He doesn't say anything, just watches me, waiting for me to speak. I finally get to where I can continue. "What did you expect? A thank you?" God, that sounds lame. Like a petulant child.

He shrugs. "Just a little sex, Jim. Sorry if I was too rough. Didn't mean to be. But you got off."

As if a few seconds of pleasure were compensation for violating my body and trust. "Blair...you RAPED me." Another shrug, and his expression is sullen once again. "I don't understand what's gotten into you."

Now his smile has a nasty edge. "You have, Jim. Many, many times. I just figured it was my turn."

"But...Why didn't you just ASK me?"

He studies me. "Would you have let me?"

"Yes."

He looks back at the screen. "Then what's the problem? You would have, I did. Let it go."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"You want me to go, Jim?"

"It's too late for you to be running around..."

He looks at me again, and there is a hardness in his eyes I haven't seen before. "No. Do you want me to GO? Permanently." I freeze. Leave? Leave me? He continues. "Because I can. I have someplace to go now."

He means von Glower. And yes, the baron would take him in. Would welcome him with open arms and a hungry smile, I have no doubt of that.

Is that what I want? This has been a horrible incident, a betrayal that has me feeling bruised and bloody of spirit. But do I want to lose Blair because of it? When there's a chance that it wasn't really BLAIR? Am I ready to go back to the hollow ache that marked my days before he came into my life?

No.

No matter how little sense it makes, I still love him. I still want him. I can't imagine my life without him. There has to be a way to make this right, and I'll find it.

"No, Blair. I don't want you to leave." His dark blue eyes search my face, and he nods slowly.

"I am sorry, Jim. I like it so much, I figured you would, too." He gives me a crooked smile. "Guess things are a little different for an alpha male."

This time when he slides his arm around my shoulder, I don't pull away. I force myself to relax against him, resting my head on his shoulder. He sighs in contentment, and starts stroking my hair.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I need to see about setting up a doctor's appointment. Maybe even a hospital stay for a battery of tests. Blood work, EKG, CAT scan, resonant imaging, X rays...the works. And maybe a psychological battery while he's there.

He won't want to do it. I may HAVE to report the rape, unofficially, to Simon, to have help in getting him committed for observation if he won't co-operate. Now I'M feeling guilty. But it's for his sake, as well as the sake of the relationship.

I love you, Blair. No matter what. I don't want to lose you.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 33

Baron von Glower's POV

I believe he is here. Yes, I believe that Gabriel has come to Cascade. The sense of connection has grown so much stronger in the past few hours, it can only be from his nearness.

So, you slipped your little Oriental watchdog, did you, my angel? You must have. I can't imagine you bringing her along, though she might very well follow...She is a marvelous one for seeking you out, Gabriel. She would have made an excellent schattenjaeger herself.

Poor Grace. She's a bit obsessed with you, I believe. Well, who am I to talk, eh? She sees you slipping away from her influence, and it's making her desperate, I think. She doesn't understand that you belong to me in a way you could never belong to her. It's on so many levels, Gabriel, not just physical.

Though there is that. Oh, yes, there is that.

Our time together has been so brief. Only that one night, really. And I didn't have you fully, then. Like I told you the night that Grace so rudely interrupted us, I want you awake, and aware. Gabriel, I want you to KNOW, beyond doubt, that it is I who gives you pleasure.

I've had my little wolf cub, and he was sweet, so very sweet. But I have craved you for so long, Gabriel. I have been looking for you all down the long years of my life. Now that I have finally found you, it's so hard to wait.

You are my true soul mate, I feel it.

I never believed that of Von Zell. Oh, I loved him. I still grieve for him. But he did not touch me like YOU, Gabriel. He did not leave me feeling pierced by the touch of his eyes, scorched by the touch of his hand...

I grow poetic in my old age, I'm afraid. That is what will happen when a grizzled old wolf loves a young one. It's as true for our kind as it is for the mortals.

Through all the companions and lovers I have sought through the centuries, Gabriel, there has only been one who even came close to you. Ludwig...my poor, mad Ludwig.

I wish you could have known him, Gabriel. He would have been as enchanted by you as I am, I believe. Granted, you are a bit earthier than what he generally sought, but your spirit, Gabriel, your fire...

He would have recognized your purity of essence, and treasured it. He wanted so much to attain the pure and noble in himself, he strove to rise about the material, carnal concerns of the world. And I...

Ah, I must admit it. I dragged him down. I regret that, Gabriel, you have no idea how much. But I truly didn't see any other way at the time. You must understand how things were then.

I had been living in exile in South America. I was born in Bavaria, I spent my formative years there. It was home, and it was denied to me. All because of my father's weakness. Yes, he was wicked, but...Pah, I have never believed in that biblical tendency to visit the sins of the fathers upon the children. I was no part of his deeds, but I suffered for them. I suffer still...

I did not suffer in a material manner, you understand. No, my mother had admirers, supporters who helped us. We lived well enough. I was educated, exposed to the finer things in life. Perhaps if life had been more simple, I would not have conceived the desire to return to my native land, and reclaim what was mine by birthright.

No, I'm fooling myself. It would have been the same, lavish lifestyle or abject poverty. It was my destiny to return to Bavaria. I've learned over the years that it just doesn't pay to fight some things.

There was one good thing about living in the more primitive area. My change...

When I reached adolescence, and the moon exerted its sway over me, I had wilderness nearby to roam. I could take myself deep into the forests, away from men, and just be. There was always prey. Myriads of small animals fell to my jaws, their hot blood and flesh feeding the beast. I did not kill men. Not then. I did not need to.

Poor mother. She didn't know what to think. She believed me to be running wild, and so I was, but not as she thought. She imagined me drinking, carousing, whoring. No. Oh, I sewed my share of wild oats. After all, I was young, and privileged.

Odd how much man can mimic the wolf when he is in his more bestial state. I ran with a sort of pack: other young bloods, like myself, protected by their families. Petty things, really. Breaking windows, loosing horses, harassing the tavern wenches. But there's always a chance with these groups that things will go too far. I was already pulling away from them when it happened.

They knew my routine. They called me `The Monk', for what they saw as my monthly `retreat'. And they were determined to break me of the habit. I was with them one night. The next night, the moon would be full. I still could not control my change. It WOULD come, and I must be deep in the forest when it did. I was going to leave early the next morning, to give myself sufficient travel time.

Dear lord, I should have known. They kept pressing drink on me, more, stronger. I should have stopped, but I had one of the foolish notions of the young: I believed my capacity was greater than it was. At their urging, I drank myself senseless.

When I awakened, the sun was high, past the noon mark. And I was locked in a room at the inn. Oh, how I raged, and cursed, and pounded at the door. And how they laughed, my companions. My friends. They promised to let me out that night. I told them they must either let me out now, or leave me there till the sun had risen again. But they didn't listen. Oh, God, they never listen.

The sun sank, the moon rose...and the change came. As it must, as I knew it would. I felt the familiar itching tingle as the fur sprouted. There was the agony as bone and sinew and muscles stretched, shrank, twisted, realigned. There is always pain in the change, no matter how often it happens, but I can bear it more easily now. It was sheer, hellish agony then.

I screamed. I screamed like a damned soul...which, I suppose, is what I really am. Then I howled.

And they opened the door. The fools. The fools. I would have probably made my way out in any case. The inn was not well built, the door was not sturdy. But it MIGHT have held. At least long enough for them to realize their mistake, and flee. But they released their own destruction.

I don't really remember what happened. Now I retain some of myself when I go to my wolf form. Then, I was wholly the beast. All I know is that I woke up the next morning, deep in the forest. My belly was full, and I was covered with gore, caked with it. Bits of flesh were under my fingernails, and there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't sticky with congealing blood.

I became ill, spewing the foul contents of my stomach onto the mossy ground. I turned away from the steaming mess, but not before I recognized a man's finger among the gobbets of flesh. My belly was empty, but still I tried to sick up what was not there any more. My body and mind was trying to rid itself of the realization of that first gruesome meal, but it would never be wiped away. And later...later it...was not quite so repugnant.

I washed myself as best I could in a forest stream, and hid in small cave I found for the rest of the day. That night I ran free in the safe vastness of the forest. I learned later that it was a good thing that I had hidden, then gone deep. When the slaughter was discovered at the inn, the townspeople organized a hunt. It was my good fortune that there actually WERE wolves nearby. They killed several of them, and satisfied themselves that the killers had been dispatched.

When the fullness of the moon had passed, I slunk home. I was afraid, thinking that they would be watching for me, ready to kill me for my murderous rampage. But I had to go back, if for nothing else than to steal clothes and money so I could flee.

But when my mother came upon me as I crept down the back hallway, she fell upon me with shrieks and tears of relief. They had thought me dead, killed in the massacre. I had not been suspected at all.

Three of my companions had died in the upstairs hallway, just outside the room that had confined me. The innkeeper had died in the front room. The serving wench had fled, screaming. A dozen witnesses had seen the great black wolf pursue her, run her down, and tear out her throat. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that it had been a bizarre attack by a forest wolf. It was believed that I had been wounded, and wandered away in the confusion to die in the forest.

A fourth companion, Elrich, had survived, gravely wounded. He was not in his right mind, I was informed. He babbled. I went to see him. He had been a handsome man. A hideous gash ran from his hair to his mouth, the right eye slashed and ruined. The wound itself, though only a couple of days old, was healing, sealing. But it was grievous. If he had survived, I believe he would have still been badly scarred. And he would still have lost the eye. Our powers of healing are great, but they do not include regeneration.

But he didn't survive. He might have, I think. When I visited him, he was quiet, but there was a spark of understanding in his one good eye. When the doctor left us alone, I spoke to him. I tried to explain. I apologized, told him of my grief at what had happened. And I explained what would happen to him. I promised him that I would be there for him, to help him through. That he didn't have to go through it alone.

He said nothing, turning away his face. I left, hoping that he would come to accept it before the next full moon brought his first change. That night, while his keepers slept, he managed to get out of bed. He found the draft that the doctor had been doling out to him for pain, and drained the entire bottle. When morning came, they found him dead, already cold. But they said that the unmarred portion of his face wore an expression of deepest peace.

I hated him for leaving me.

But this sad incident was what first kindled the idea that I could make companions for myself. I knew that my bite could pass on the curse, I'd seen partial proof. But Elrich had been unprepared for the attack. It had been too much of a trauma for him to survive. I could understand that. What I would need to do, I decided, was to choose my companions more carefully. And I'd have to ensure that the passing of the taint was done in a manner that did not shock the system too badly.

I knew that I did not have enough control of myself to do that at that point in time. So, I spent years mastering myself.

Through the good graces of Mother's patrons, I made my way in the world. When she died, I had my own circle of friends, and admirers. But I wasn't content to live off the good graces of others. There was an estate in Bavaria that was rightfully mine, and I was determined to have it. So, I went back to Europe.

Ludwig was king then. Ludwig, the builder of faerie castles. Poor Ludwig. He was born too late. He should have been a knight at Arthur's round table, seeking holy relics and defending pure maidens. He really wasn't suited for rule in a political world.

There were factions that wanted him off the throne. Factions that would eventually lead to involvement in the great war, but that was much later, and not my concern. What WAS my concern was that these factions saw in me a possible solution to their problem.

It isn't all that easy to depose a monarch, especially one who is loved by the people, and Ludwig was very popular, even though he expended fortunes on his building. The only way, outside of a blatant militery coupe, is to have the monarch declared insane. My friends, do you know how difficult that is? Royalty can get away with behavior that would have you or I locked in an asylum. They can do the most outlandish things, and only be labeled `eccentric'.

It was hoped that I could influence Ludwig to see things in a more sensible light. And, if not, the tension and guilt from `whatever relationship you have' (as they so delicately put it) would be enough to unbalance his already fragile mental state. In return, I was offered the title, and the return of all my ancestral holdings.

I didn't wish Ludwig harm, you must believe that. Yes, he was...an assignment. But I was taken with him from the very start. We had so much in common: a love of the finer, nobler things, a sense of our nation's history, a love of our beautiful country.

I caught his eye at a performance of an opera by Wagner. He did not know how carefully I had been placed in his way. As they had assumed, he soon sent for me, and we began a friendship. It soon blossomed into...something more.

But there were those who were not so ignorant of my nature, who suspected my motives. They tried to poison him against me. I didn't want to do it, but I was forced to take him against his will. If only I'd had more time, I think I could have persuaded him to join me willingly. Perhaps not.

After the wounding, he isolated himself in one of his castles. His behavior became more erratic. He wouldn't see me. I wanted so much to soothe him, to explain the changes he was going through. I was determined to be with him during his first change, to help him through.

But it never happened. The forces I spoke of moved. He was declared insane, and removed from his sanctum. They were taking him to a more secure location, when he escaped, killing one of his doctor. Killing himself.

And again, I was abandoned.

I didn't give up. I had my estates, my wealth, my position. I sought other companions. One by one, they sickened with the madness, and I had to find means to ease them from this life. Each time, I died a little.

But now I have you, Gabriel. You and Blair. It will work this time, I swear it. I won't lose either of you. And no one will stand in my way. Not Grace, nor Ellison. The one can be disposed of, the other, possibly turned. I hope so. But in any case...

You're mine, Gabriel. You're mine.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 31

Gabriel’s POV

They say that Washington state has some real pretty country. Wild country. That sort of thing never interested me before. I’ve always been a city boy, never had much use for the rough. But now I’m seein’ things differently. I find myself thinkin’ ‘bout shadowed greenery, an’ the smell of damp leaves. The way the moon would look through the lace work of branches overhead...

But I won’t be seein’ that here in Cascade, I suppose. It’s a big city. There may be a park somewhere in its depths, but I don’t have time to seek it out. I’ve got pressin’ matters to attend to. Urgent matters. The moon is almost full.

I find a room in a little motel near the airport. The desk clerk eyes me, an’ asks for cash. I don’t blame him much. I know that I don’t look exactly mainstream these days. I can’t keep the edginess out of my eyes, my voice. I can’t stand still, I’m movin’ constantly. He assumes that I’m on somethin’ illegal. I almost wish that was it. You can go to a clinic for help with that sort of sickness. There ain’t any twelve step program to help with what’s got me by the throat.

After I dump my things, I head directly to the Cascade Police Department. At the front desk, a policewoman turns politely from the computer screen she is scanning to greet me. I notice how white her throat is against the dark of her uniform.

“I’m lookin’ for Detective Blair Sandburg.”

“He’s with Major Crimes. But he’s on leave right now.”

“Can you give me his address? I need to talk to him.”

“No, I’m sorry. We can’t give out personal information like that. You understand.”

Yeah, I understand, but it doesn’t mean it don’t make me angry. “Look, this is urgent.” My tone is harsh, and she frowns. I draw myself back in. *Careful, Gabe, ol’ son. There’s ‘bout a ton of cops just out of sight, ready to kick your ass into next week if you get out of line.* “Please. Isn’t there any way I could get a message to him?”

“You could try giving a message to his partner, I suppose. He could pass it along, maybe arrange for a meeting. It’s upstairs, straight ahead, then to your right.”

I take the stairs. I can’t stand the thought right now of bein’ cooped up in the elevator. I race up the flight, takin’ it two steps at a time, tryin’ to burn off some of the energy that’s buzzin’ through me.

I recognize him when I enter the room. Jim Ellison, the tall, dark haired man from the clearing in Germany, and, later, the lodge. He is sitting at a desk, and seems to be absorbed in paper work. Seems.

He’s holdin’ a sheet of paper, starin’ at it. But he’s too still. He doesn’t shift or blink at all. The only motion is the shallow rise and fall of his breath. His pupils are dilated, his gaze unfocussed. It’s almost as if he’s in some sort of a trance.

He’s the only one in the room right now, so there’s no one to ask about his condition. But it CAN’T be normal. I go to him and look a little more closely. His pupils are enormous, his irises no more than a light ring around dark pools. He looks like he’s been drugged.

He’s a handsome man, no doubt about that. But he’s not at his best right now. Even with the blankness of his expression, I can see traces of strain in his face. He looks older than he did in Germany, like he’s gone through a lot in just a couple of weeks. I think about what I’VE been goin’ through. He’s livin’ with a man who’s most likely experiencin’ the same thing. Yes, that would be a trial, especially if they were...close.

I feel like it’s important that I snap him out of whatever sort of funk he’s gotten himself into. Besides the fact that he can’t answer my questions like this...it’s disturbing to see such a strong man in such a helpless position. And he IS helpless. I sense that. I could kill him right now, and he’d die without a whimper, never knowin’ what had happened.

What should I do? I’ve heard that it’s dangerous to wake up someone who’s sleep walkin’ suddenly. Is this anythin’ like that? “Ellison.” I speak softly. “Jim?” No response. I touch his shoulder gently. “Jim, can you hear me, buddy? Come back here. I don’t know where you’ve gone, but you need to come back.” I shake him lightly.

He blinks slowly. The paper quivers in his hand, then lowers, an inch at a time. He blinks again. His pupils slowly contract to a normal width, and he sighs, shakin’ his head. He glances up at me, and there is a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “Sorry. I...uh...I get distracted, sometimes. What can I do for...” He trails off, starin’ at me. I see recognition building. “You. Knight?”

“Gabriel.” I offer my hand. His is warm, the grip brief and direct.

“I guess your little friend found you, then.”

“Gracie? Yeah. She’s a pistol, ain’t she? Came after me like the marines stormin’ Normandy.”

“So...you’re alright, then?” There is hesitation in the question, and hope. But I can see what sort of answer he’s expectin’.

“No, I’m really not. And I think you guessed that already.”

He gets up, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair. “Let’s go somewhere. We can’t talk here.”

I follow him out of the station. I find myself watchin’ the flex of his haunches in his tight jeans as he moves in front of me. He’s big, and he’s healthy, and he’s in his prime. I can’t help wonderin’ what it would be like...Him and me. Who’d end up on top? Either way...

It’s after breakfast, and before lunch, and the little coffee shop we end up in is quiet. We get a booth at the end, and the waitress sets us up with coffee. Ellison’s cup rattles against his saucer as he sets it back down after a token sip.

There’s so much that needs to be said, needs to be discussed. But he can’t seem to find the words to begin, so I do. “How’s your partner?”

He looks up sharply, and the pain in his eyes is almost physical. He starts to say somethin’, but no words come out. Then he puts his elbows on the table and presses his face into his hands. His voice is muffled. “Something is wrong. Something is so wrong.”

I don’t say anythin’ else. I give him time to collect himself, and he does. After a minute, he sighs, and lowers his hands. He looks more tired and hurt than any man should be. “I knew there was going to be problems after what happened to him. My God, you can’t go through something like that without it leaving emotional scars. I...I thought I was prepared.”

“Tell me about it.”

He shrugs. “It’s like he’s a different person. He was always energetic, but now he’s...he’s hyper. It’s like he’s about to jump out of his skin, all the time. And he was always an easy going, good natured person. Naturally cheerful, you know? Now he’s either morose, or irritated. It’s constant. And he’s started to be...hurtful.” A pause. His voice is low. “Not just emotionally, either.”

I nod. “Same sort of thing is happenin’ to me. I don’t like it, but I can admit it. I’ve been bein’ a real bastard to everyone around me for the past couple of weeks. I didn’t used to be. Time was, I was real easy to get along with. Not since that night in the woods, though. Anythin’ else?”

“Yeah. There’s been physical changes, too. He HEALS too fast. The scar from the wound on his shoulder is already starting to fade, like it’s years old.”

“How was Blair injured, Jim? I didn’t have time to see much out there in the forest, and I was out of it at the lodge.”

Ellison’s face is pale. “He beat Blair, and raped him. The fucker even bit a chunk out of his shoulder.”

I sit up straighter. “He BIT him?”

“Yeah. They gave him a tetanus shot, just in case.”

“I was bitten, too.”

“Yeah.” Jim frowns. “Those wolves they were talking about...”

“Jim, you’re maybe gonna think I’m crazy, with what I’m about to tell you, but I swear that this is the truth. I went into that wood to hunt Von Zell. I knew he was crazy, a murderer. But I knew what else he was, too. I shot a wolf, Jim. It was Von Zell’s body that they found afterwards.”

He stares at me, and I wait for him to tell me how crazy I am. Or else to cautiously agree, all the while thinking of how he can call someone to put me somewhere safe. Instead, he nods slowly. “You believe me?”

“If I’d heard such a thing before I went to Peru, I probably wouldn’t have. But now...I’ve seen things. I’ve experienced them. Hell, I AM an odd occurrence. What you’re suggesting is the only possible explanation that covers everything. The question is, what do we do now? Is there any cure?”

I look him directly in the face. “I don’t know.”

Jim’s POV

*He’s lying. His heart rate just spiked. But he made a point of meeting my eyes when he said that. If he DOES know a way to fight this thing, why would he keep it secret?*

“Does any of this have anything to do with Baron von Glower?” Again the heart rate speeds. But his expression remains neutral.

“What would make you think that?”

“Come on, Knight. He’s a linking thread. He was Von Zell’s friend, and fellow lodge member. He was out with you when you shot Von Zell. He was very, very solicitous about you and Blair, and very insistent about having our stories straight, to tell the authorities. And then he shows up, here...”

His eyes almost glow. “You’ve seen him?”

“Yes. He came here yesterday. A man doesn’t travel halfway around the world out of idle curiosity. He came for a reason. I think he came for Blair.”

“That’s possible. I know from personal experience that the good baron is a very determined man. He goes after what he wants. An’ it doesn’t matter a hell of a lot if what he wants, wants him back. If you know what I mean.”

“I think I do. But...that isn’t necessarily the case here.”

Gabriel’s POV

He’s hurtin’. He’s fuckin’ WOUNDED. Von Glower must have his claws sunk deep in little Blair. It hasn’t been easy for me to resist, an’ I have the blood of the Ritters and the history an’ traditions of the schattenjaeger to bolster me. I had Gracie, an’ Gerde, an’ the Smiths, who had some idea of what we were up against.

My brother in blood has been runnin’ in the dark. As scared as I’ve been, he must’ve been terrified. To someone in that state, vulnerable, von Glower could appear like a godsend. He’d have answers, he could offer experience and understanding. You run to your own kind.

But he ISN’T our kind, Blair’s and mine. Not yet, not fully. We haven’t killed. We’re hoverin’, but not yet damned. There is still a chance for us.

But I’m not sure it’s a chance I can take. I’m not a natural born killer. I’ve had that role more or less thrust upon me. I’m able to defend myself, I have no problem fighting to protect others. But the solution to this problem would seem to involve cold blooded assassination. I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not sure I WANT to be ABLE to do that.

Right now, I want to ease the hurt of the man sittin’ across from me. “It isn’t like he’s just wooin’ your friend away from you, Ellison. Blair really WOULDN’T have any defense against this man. What he’s put inside him...it’s like a drug. Your friend is worse off than an addict right now, Jim. And von Glower isn’t the pusher, he IS the drug.”

I put my hand over his. It trembles slightly. He isn’t a man who touches easily. But he doesn’t pull away. “Just remember that it really isn’t him. It’s somethin’ inside him.”

“I know. But I can see glimpses of the old Blair sometimes. Then he’ll do something so hateful...” He shudders. What did that boy do to this man? He laughs shakily. “I...last night. I was hoping it was something physical. An imbalance they could give him a pill for. A tumor they could slice out neatly. Isn’t that twisted? I wanted him to be sick rather than to think that he could...he could do THAT to me.”

And I think I know what happened. I even think I know HOW it happened. He hit one of those trance states, like the one I found him in this morning. And Blair took advantage.

That would be devastating to a man like Jim Ellison on so many different levels. It would strike at him both as a man, and as a person. I can’t imagine that Jim has been a victim very many times in his life, and I don’t expect he can deal with it very well. It would be bad enough if a stranger did something like that, but a friend? A partner, someone you trusted with your safety, and your very life? A lover?

“It’s the taint, Jim. It makes us savage. I’m fightin’ it myself. I almost raped the best friend I have in the world.” He draws in his breath sharply, like I’ve stabbed him. He tries to pull his hand away, but I hold on tight. “If she hadn’t brought me back to my senses, I would have. I would have hurt her, an’ enjoyed doin’ it. An’ I’ve never had the desire to force myself on anyone in my whole life. But it wasn’t so much sex right then. It was power. I was frustrated, an’ angry, an’ that was one thing I could do. I felt like it was something I could control. But I realize now that it was a complete LOSS of control. That’s how it is with your partner. HE isn’t in control. Anything he does to you, you can be sure that von Glower either ordered it, or inspired it.”

“I want to believe that.” His voice is a whisper. “What can we do to help Blair? Stop von Glower?”

I begin to tell him about the legends that Gracie found in her research.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 32

Baron von Glower’s POV

I believe he is here. Yes, I believe that Gabriel has come to Cascade. The sense of connection has grown so much stronger in the past few hours, it can only be from his nearness.

So, you slipped your little Oriental watchdog, did you, my angel? You must have. I can’t imagine you bringing her along, though she might very well follow...She is a marvelous one for seeking you out, Gabriel. She would have made an excellent schattenjaeger herself.

Poor Grace. She’s a bit obsessed with you, I believe. Well, who am I to talk, eh? She sees you slipping away from her influence, and it’s making her desperate, I think. She doesn’t understand that you belong to me in a way you could never belong to her. It’s on so many levels, Gabriel, not just physical.

Though there is that. Oh, yes, there is that.

Our time together has been so brief. Only that one night, really. And I didn’t have you fully, then. Like I told you the night that Grace so rudely interrupted us, I want you awake, and aware. Gabriel, I want you to KNOW, beyond doubt, that it is I who gives you pleasure.

I’ve had my little wolf cub, and he was sweet, so very sweet. But I have craved you for so long, Gabriel. I have been looking for you all down the long years of my life. Now that I have finally found you, it’s so hard to wait.

You are my true soul mate, I feel it.

I never believed that of Von Zell. Oh, I loved him. I still grieve for him. But he did not touch me like YOU, Gabriel. He did not leave me feeling pierced by the touch of his eyes, scorched by the touch of his hand...

I grow poetic in my old age, I’m afraid. That is what will happen when a grizzled old wolf loves a young one. It’s as true for our kind as it is for the mortals.

Through all the companions and lovers I have sought through the centuries, Gabriel, there has only been one who even came close to you. Ludwig...my poor, mad Ludwig.

I wish you could have known him, Gabriel. He would have been as enchanted by you as I am, I believe. Granted, you are a bit earthier than what he generally sought, but your spirit, Gabriel, your fire...

He would have recognized your purity of essence, and treasured it. He wanted so much to attain the pure and noble in himself, he strove to rise about the material, carnal concerns of the world. And I...

Ah, I must admit it. I dragged him down. I regret that, Gabriel, you have no idea how much. But I truly didn’t see any other way at the time. You must understand how things were then.

I had been living in exile in South America. I was born in Bavaria, I spent my formative years there. It was home, and it was denied to me. All because of my father’s weakness. Yes, he was wicked, but...Pah, I have never believed in that biblical tendency to visit the sins of the fathers upon the children. I was no part of his deeds, but I suffered for them. I suffer still...

I did not suffer in a material manner, you understand. No, my mother had admirers, supporters who helped us. We lived well enough. I was educated, exposed to the finer things in life. Perhaps if life had been more simple, I would not have conceived the desire to return to my native land, and reclaim what was mine by birthright.

No, I’m fooling myself. It would have been the same, lavish lifestyle or abject poverty. It was my destiny to return to Bavaria. I’ve learned over the years that it just doesn’t pay to fight some things.

There was one good thing about living in the more primitive area. My change...

When I reached adolescence, and the moon exerted its sway over me, I had wilderness nearby to roam. I could take myself deep into the forests, away from men, and just be. There was always prey. Myriads of small animals fell to my jaws, their hot blood and flesh feeding the beast. I did not kill men. Not then. I did not need to.

Poor mother. She didn’t know what to think. She believed me to be running wild, and so I was, but not as she thought. She imagined me drinking, carousing, whoring. No. Oh, I sewed my share of wild oats. After all, I was young, and privileged. Odd how much man can mimic the wolf when he is in his more bestial state. I ran with a sort of pack: other young bloods, like myself, protected by their families. Petty things, really. Breaking windows, loosing horses, harassing the tavern wenches. But there’s always a chance with these groups that things will go too far. I was already pulling away from them when it happened.

They knew my routine. They called me ‘The Monk’, for what they saw as my monthly ‘retreat’. And they were determined to break me of the habit. I was with them one night. The next night, the moon would be full. I still could not control my change. It WOULD come, and I must be deep in the forest when it did. I was going to leave early the next morning, to give myself sufficient travel time.

Dear lord, I should have known. They kept pressing drink on me, more, stronger. I should have stopped, but I had one of the foolish notions of the young: I believed my capacity was greater than it was. At their urging, I drank myself senseless.

When I awakened, the sun was high, past the noon mark. And I was locked in a room at the inn. Oh, how I raged, and cursed, and pounded at the door. And how they laughed, my companions. My friends. They promised to let me out that night. I told them they must either let me out now, or leave me there till the sun had risen again. But they didn’t listen. Oh, God, they never listen.

The sun sank, the moon rose...and the change came. As it must, as I knew it would. I felt the familiar itching tingle as the fur sprouted. There was the agony as bone and sinew and muscles stretched, shrank, twisted, realigned. There is always pain in the change, no matter how often it happens, but I can bear it more easily now. It was sheer, hellish agony then.

I screamed. I screamed like a damned soul...which, I suppose, is what I really am. Then I howled.

And they opened the door. The fools. The fools. I would have probably made my way out in any case. The inn was not well built, the door was not sturdy. But it MIGHT have held. At least long enough for them to realize their mistake, and flee. But they released their own destruction.

I don’t really remember what happened. Now I retain some of myself when I go to my wolf form. Then, I was wholly the beast. All I know is that I woke up the next morning, deep in the forest. My belly was full, and I was covered with gore, caked with it. Bits of flesh were under my fingernails, and there wasn’t a part of my body that wasn’t sticky with congealing blood.

I became ill, spewing the foul contents of my stomach onto the mossy ground. I turned away from the steaming mess, but not before I recognized a man’s finger among the gobbets of flesh. My belly was empty, but still I tried to sick up what was not there any more. My body and mind was trying to rid itself of the realization of that first gruesome meal, but it would never be wiped away. And later...later it...was not quite so repugnant.

I washed myself as best I could in a forest stream, and hid in small cave I found for the rest of the day. That night I ran free in the safe vastness of the forest. I learned later that it was a good thing that I had hidden, then gone deep. When the slaughter was discovered at the inn, the townspeople organized a hunt. It was my good fortune that there actually WERE wolves nearby. They killed several of them, and satisfied themselves that the killers had been dispatched.

When the fullness of the moon had passed, I slunk home. I was afraid, thinking that they would be watching for me, ready to kill me for my murderous rampage. But I had to go back, if for nothing else than to steal clothes and money so I could flee.

But when my mother came upon me as I crept down the back hallway, she fell upon me with shrieks and tears of relief. They had thought me dead, killed in the massacre. I had not been suspected at all.

Three of my companions had died in the upstairs hallway, just outside the room that had confined me. The innkeeper had died in the front room. The serving wench had fled, screaming. A dozen witnesses had seen the great black wolf pursue her, run her down, and tear out her throat. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that it had been a bizarre attack by a forest wolf. It was believed that I had been wounded, and wandered away in the confusion to die in the forest.

A fourth companion, Elrich, had survived, gravely wounded. He was not in his right mind, I was informed. He babbled. I went to see him. He had been a handsome man. A hideous gash ran from his hair to his mouth, the right eye slashed and ruined. The wound itself, though only a couple of days old, was healing, sealing. But it was grievous. If he had survived, I believe he would have still been badly scarred. And he would still have lost the eye. Our powers of healing are great, but they do not include regeneration.

But he didn’t survive. He might have, I think. When I visited him, he was quiet, but there was a spark of understanding in his one good eye. When the doctor left us alone, I spoke to him. I tried to explain. I apologized, told him of my grief at what had happened. And I explained what would happen to him. I promised him that I would be there for him, to help him through. That he didn’t have to go through it alone.

He said nothing, turning away his face. I left, hoping that he would come to accept it before the next full moon brought his first change. That night, while his keepers slept, he managed to get out of bed. He found the draft that the doctor had been doling out to him for pain, and drained the entire bottle. When morning came, they found him dead, already cold. But they said that the unmarred portion of his face wore an expression of deepest peace.

I hated him for leaving me.

But this sad incident was what first kindled the idea that I could make companions for myself. I knew that my bite could pass on the curse, I’d seen partial proof. But Elrich had been unprepared for the attack. It had been too much of a trauma for him to survive. I could understand that. What I would need to do, I decided, was to choose my companions more carefully. And I’d have to ensure that the passing of the taint was done in a manner that did not shock the system too badly.

I knew that I did not have enough control of myself to do that at that point in time. So, I spent years mastering myself.

Through the good graces of Mother’s patrons, I made my way in the world. When she died, I had my own circle of friends, and admirers. But I wasn’t content to live off the good graces of others. There was an estate in Bavaria that was rightfully mine, and I was determined to have it. So, I went back to Europe.

Ludwig was king then. Ludwig, the builder of faerie castles. Poor Ludwig. He was born too late. He should have been a knight at Arthur’s round table, seeking holy relics and defending pure maidens. He really wasn’t suited for rule in a political world.

There were factions that wanted him off the throne. Factions that would eventually lead to involvement in the great war, but that was much later, and not my concern. What WAS my concern was that these factions saw in me a possible solution to their problem.

It isn’t all that easy to depose a monarch, especially one who is loved by the people, and Ludwig was very popular, even though he expended fortunes on his building. The only way, outside of a blatant military coupe, is to have the monarch declared insane. My friends, do you know how difficult that is? Royalty can get away with behavior that would have you or I locked in an asylum. They can do the most outlandish things, and only be labeled ‘eccentric’.

It was hoped that I could influence Ludwig to see things in a more sensible light. And, if not, the tension and guilt from ‘whatever relationship you have’ (as they so delicately put it) would be enough to unbalance his already fragile mental state. In return, I was offered the title, and the return of all my ancestral holdings.

I didn’t wish Ludwig harm, you must believe that. Yes, he was...an assignment. But I was taken with him from the very start. We had so much in common: a love of the finer, nobler things, a sense of our nation’s history, a love of our beautiful country.

I caught his eye at a performance of an opera by Wagner. He did not know how carefully I had been placed in his way. As they had assumed, he soon sent for me, and we began a friendship. It soon blossomed into...something more.

But there were those who were not so ignorant of my nature, who suspected my motives. They tried to poison him against me. I didn’t want to do it, but I was forced to take him against his will. If only I’d had more time, I think I could have persuaded him to join me willingly. Perhaps not.

After the wounding, he isolated himself in one of his castles. His behavior became more erratic. He wouldn’t see me. I wanted so much to soothe him, to explain the changes he was going through. I was determined to be with him during his first change, to help him through.

But it never happened. The forces I spoke of moved. He was declared insane, and removed from his sanctum. They were taking him to a more secure location, when he escaped, killing one of his doctor. Killing himself.

And again, I was abandoned.

I didn’t give up. I had my estates, my wealth, my position. I sought other companions. One by one, they sickened with the madness, and I had to find means to ease them from this life. Each time, I died a little.

But now I have you, Gabriel. You and Blair. It will work this time, I swear it. I won’t lose either of you. And no one will stand in my way. Not Grace, nor Ellison. The one can be disposed of, the other, possibly turned. I hope so. But in any case...

You’re mine, Gabriel. You’re mine.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 33

Grace’s POV

During my lay over in New York, I spend some change in the airport lounge pay telephone in an attempt to reach Jim Ellison in Cascade. First I try information, but they don’t have a listing for a Jim or James Ellison. There IS one for a Blair Sandburg, but that turns out to be a woman. I wonder if the guy used to get teased about his name. They must have an unlisted number. Not too unusual for police detectives.

So next I try the Cascade PD. I manage to get them, but I’m informed that neither of the men are in. They ask if I’d like to leave a message, but what the hell could I tell them? So I just leave the number for the pay phone, sit, and hope no one comes along and tries to use the phone while I’m waiting.

After a couple of hours, the waitress (who’s bringing me my fifth cup of coffee) asks, “Miss, are you doing anything besides waiting for a plane and ruining your kidneys?”

“I’m waiting for a plane. This is a lounge. I’m lounging.” That’s right, the bitch is back. I can’t help it. I’m stressed.

She isn’t offended. I suppose she has to deal with a lot of snappish travelers. “I was just wondering if maybe you were waiting for a call on that phone. I saw you use it earlier, and you’ve been watching it pretty close. You get all tense when someone acts like they’re going to use it.”

“As a matter of fact, I am expecting a call.”

“Oh, I was afraid of that.”

Those words are never a prelude to any sort of good news. “Why?”

“Well, you see, that phone can’t receive. It can only make outgoing calls.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What good is it, then?”

“Well, you see, it’s sort of a security measure. Airport security thought that it was being used a lot by drug dealers to set things up and make contact, so they had it fixed so that you can only call out.”

Well, isn’t that just dandy. Ellison could have been trying to reach me for the last half hour, and just gotten a busy signal. Now he’s probably thinking it was a crank call, and my credibility will be lowered before I even MEET him. “They ought to have a sign posted.”

“We did. But the drug dealers got pissed and pulled it down.”

Crap. Nothing to do now but sit and wait. And brood. I’m getting good at brooding. I really have to decide what I’m going to do when I reach Cascade. I can’t just blunder in and hope for the best.

And I can’t just kill von Glower. They stay in, or return to, human form when they die. I could easily explain killing a wolf (even if I couldn’t explain what one was doing running around an urban American area. But then, I don’t HAVE to explain that), but explaining why I murdered a German aristocrat could prove to be a little more difficult. I might get off with an insanity defense if I told them the real reason. But institutions are so dull.

More and more I’m convinced that I’m going to need Ellison, and not just for information on von Glower and Gabriel’s whereabouts. I’m not a hunter, any more than Gabriel is. And I don’t have the schatzenjaeger lineage to give me even the edge that he has. Despite what the Indiana Jones movies would have you believe, scholars are very seldom suited for vigorous adventures.

I think my greatest persuasive tool is going to be Blair Sandburg. He must be going through the same things now that Gabriel is: mood swings, restlessness, aggression, insomnia. If I can convince Ellison of the source of these changes, I believe he’ll throw in with me.

The thing is...

I’m not entirely sure that getting rid of von Glower will be the perfect solution.

It will save Blair and Gabriel spiritually, there’s no doubt of that. The taint will be removed. And, if they do not weaken and turn willingly to the darkness again, they’ll be alright. But there’s no telling how this experience has weakened them. There’s no telling whether or not the personality changes will remain, or they’ll go back to the way they were before this whole mess started. Frankly, I’m scared. Because I’m not sure it’s possible.

Even if they CAN return to something approaching their old personalities, they’re going to be carrying a lot of spiritual and emotional baggage with them. Hell, they’re going to have a TRUNK FULL.

Not just for what they’ve done, though that will be bad enough. Gabriel is going to torture himself over that incident in his bed room. Sandburg has probably had something similar. And beyond those incidents...

I can’t pretend to know their minds. But there must be dark thoughts, scary feelings, bloody impulses. They’re going to have to live with the fact that they are capable of these. Most men don’t like to acknowledge the animal side of their nature. It’s buried more deeply in some, but it’s always there. And having to face it can be devastating.

I’m feeling a little of that right now, looking at my own desire to kill Freidrik von Glower. It’s a side of myself I wasn’t aware of. And I wish I WASN’T aware of it now.

Damn. I wish now I’d never taken that job in Gabe’s store. It seemed so quiet, and safe, and...blah. Well, admit it, Grace. Not ENTIRELY safe. You knew that when you met Gabriel. Oh, we’re not talking supernatural, zombies and vampires and werewolves, oh my sort of dangerous. We’re talking emotionally dangerous. We’re talking ‘have your heart ripped out in a metaphorical rather than physical sense’ dangerous. And I thought I could deal with it. *snort* Okay, another fault to add to my list. Apparently I suffer from self delusional vanity, too.

Alright, I knew it would never be hearts and flowers with Gabriel. I honestly didn’t think he was capable of it. Despite what we’d LIKE to believe, I think there are certain people who are just congenitally incapable of monogamy, or even long term commitment. I was sure Gabriel was one of those. But now...now it looks as if it might be possible with von Glower. An eternity of racing through the night at your lover’s side. How the hell much more romantic can you get? And it hurts that I wasn’t the one who could inspire this in Gabriel.

Okay, I’ll be politically incorrect. It REALLY hurts that the one who could do it is a MAN. That should make me feel better. After all, how could I be expected to compete with him? We aren’t even on the same playing field. Talk about being out of your league. It’s like trying to stop a touch down when your opponent is going for a slam dunk.

Oh, Jesus, Gabriel’s influenced me more than I thought. Now I’m using sports metaphors.

They’re calling my flight. Finally. I go get in the line to board, awaiting my turn through the security metal scanner. This time I know enough to remove the talisman before I step through, and I pass without incident.

The guard who was holding it for me admires it. “That is absolutely gorgeous. So unique. Where did you get it?”

“Germany.”

“I’d like to have one of the stewardesses that make that flight find one for me. It would be perfect for my fiancé. Where can I get one?”

“I’m afraid you couldn’t. It’s one of a kind.”

“A designer original, huh? Well, isn’t that always the case. I suppose it’s expensive, too?”

“Friend, it’s priceless.” He’s shaking his head sadly as I board. The stewardess gives me a smile that’s more plastic than porcelain this time. As I set foot on the plane, somewhere up ahead, a baby starts crying.

Ah, crap.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 34

Gabriel's POV

I tell Ellison a lot, but I don't tell him everything. I tell him that the alpha wolf, the sire, cannot kill those of his own bloodline, and that eases his mind about Blair. A little. He knows for sure now that Freidrik will not kill him. But he also know that Blair is in danger of losing much more than his physical life.

"So you think that, even if von Glower were to return to Germany and Blair stayed here, there would still be a connection?" Jim asks.

"I know it. He could reach me clear back in Rittersburg."

"And Blair would be drawn to him, no matter what his conscious mind wanted?"

"It would most likely kill him to resist. Ya gotta understand, Jim. It's a part of him now, like his blood and his bones. He can't separate it."

"Could von Glower...release him?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. In any case, I doubt if he would. He sees Blair as belonging to him now. Me, too. And, in a way, we do. You never really get away from the one who made you, do you?" A pained look crosses his face. I think maybe Jim has `issues' with his father.

"I want to talk to Blair, compare what's been happenin' to both of us. Together, we might just be strong enough to put up a fight." *Oh, I want to do more than TALK to Blair, after I saw him in that dream. That's a hot little partner you got there, Jim. An' I got the feelin' that Freidrik won't be too interested in lettin' me top, so he might be my only chance. He looks like a tough little cookie, but I think I got the physical advantage.*

"Yeah, alright. And...I found this on the floor this morning." He hands me a small, crumpled piece of paper. It's a sheet torn from a pocket notebook. I see Freidrik's name, a phone number...and a hotel address. My lips want to shape themselves into a triumphant grin, but I manage to control it. The beast must not show his teeth just yet.

"Hold off going there," Jim requests. "I want to go with you and confront this bastard."

*You know, Jim, that might be interestin'. I'd kinda like to see how Freidrik would react to you now that you know what he is. I expect he'd either fuck you, or kill you. Maybe both.* "I want to go talk to Blair first. I'll go to your apartment, and we can both meet you at von Glower's hotel later. See what he makes of all three of us together." *Or more precisely, what WE three together will make of you. You're impressive, my friend, but I don't think even you could stand up against an alpha and two betas.*

So I leave him, and go to his apartment. I stand outside the door, and lean against it for a moment. Blair...He's in there. I can smell him. It's a mixture of his own scent, the beast, and on Glower, our sire. I don't see how Ellison could have missed it. He must be purposefully ignoring it, in denial.

I don't knock at the door. I scratch. I wait. In a moment, I hear the pad of bare feet approaching. He's just on the other side of the door. I hear sniffing, and know that he's scenting me. There is a low, soft snarl that raises the hair on the back of my neck.

We're both betas to Freidrik's alpha, but there is ranking among beta's, too. There's going to be a contest between us to see who's top beta. It's natural, and inevitable. I'm ready for it.

I'm looking forward to it.

Blair's POV

Jim's upset by what happened. I can understand that. He isn't used to being the one who is taken, and controlled. I may not be able to do it again, now that he knows what I'm capable of, but oh man, I enjoyed it.

And I kinda dislike myself for that. This isn't LIKE me. He was making noises this morning about medical tests and psychiatric examinations, and I blew him off, but maybe I SHOULD...

The sound of a quiet scratching at the front door drives these thoughts from my mind. I cock my head, listening to it. It isn't a common, human sound. It's more like a dog, trying to catch your attention. I go to the door cautiously, and sample the scent that drifts from the other side.

There's something familiar about this smell. It isn't entirely human, it's mingled with the beast. And there is an undertone that speaks to me of Freidrik somehow. I suddenly realize that this must be one of my bloodline, another child of the baron. That could only mean one person.

Gabriel...

Freidrik is going to be very pleased. If I can bring Gabriel to him, he will be pleased with ME as well. Oh, I'd LIKE that. But we have business first, Gabriel Knight and I.

Certain things have to be established. I remember what he looks like. He was worn and hurting in the lodge, but I've seen him since then, in the dream. He's an impressive man. I doubt I can really overcome him, but I have to try. I have to fight him, and make an effort before I roll over and offer myself in submission. It's just the way it is. And I might win. I find myself giving a feral smile. Stranger things have happened. I know that from personal experience.

The snarl rumbles up from my throat before I'm aware of it, and the only thing that bothers me about it is that now he is forewarned...

OVERVIEW

Gabriel hears the lock click open on the door, and he trembles with anticipation. The door opens, and Blair Sandburg is standing there. His hair is falling half across his face, and he stares at Gabriel through the silky curtain.

Neither man says a word, but communication passes between them. Blair backs up, and Gabriel comes into the apartment, and kicks the door shut behind him. What is going to happen between them is private. The outside world is not welcome.

Gabriel takes off his jacket, dropping it heedlessly to the floor. To anyone who knows him, this would be a sign that something was very wrong here.

The two men begin, very slowly, to circle each other. They are intent, studying and assessing, looking for strengths and, more importantly, weaknesses. Neither sees many of the latter. Gabriel thinks that perhaps his superior bulk and reach will give him the advantage, but Blair isn't going to be a push over. Not by a long shot.

Then Blair stands still, head lowered, eyes on the ground. Gabriel is startled. This is a classic posture of submission. Can it be that he's giving in so easily? It happens, when a weaker beast meets one who is obviously superior. But Gabriel had thought they were too evenly matched for an easy victory.

He reaches toward Blair cautiously, willing to accept his surrender graciously. He doesn't realize he's been suckered till the younger man has his arm, has turned, and is flipping him over his hip.

Gabriel hits the floor, but bounds up before Blair can fall on him. He hits the Guide low, in a charging tackle that carries both of them heavily into the wall, shaking picture frames.

Sandburg brings his knee up. Gabriel is low enough that his groin is protected, but the knee connects jarringly with his shoulder. At the same moment, Sandburg grabs a double handful of Gabe's hair and jerks down, trying to get him in position to catch him under the chin with the next knee lift.

Gabriel loses a few strands of hair, but he manages to get his shoulder under Blair's hips and lift him so that he tumbles OVER him, landing on his back with a tremendous thump that knocks most of the breath out of him. Gabriel turns to jump on him, but he is already rolling away, scrambling to his feet.

By unspoken agreement, there are no blows thrown. This is more of a wrestling match. Men use fists. Beasts do not.

Again they circled each other. Gabriel was impressed. Though he was small, Blair Sandburg was a worthy opponent, fast and cunning. There was a chance that he could wear Gabriel down eventually, worrying him till he made a mistake. Gabe couldn't allow that.

With a growl, Gabriel charged. Blair feinted to one side, then dodged back, but Gabriel had anticipated the move. He flung himself on the small man, bearing him down to the floor. He made sure to dig an elbow deep into Sandburg's midriff, knocking the breath out of him.

While Blair heaved for air, Gabriel wrapped his long legs around the other man's legs, trapping them, and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the floor beside his head. Blair snarled again, bucking against him furiously, trying to pull his hands free to claw. But Gabriel used his superior weight to press him down, half crushing him. Gradually the struggles grew weaker, as Blair wore himself out.

Finally he was still, except for an all over quiver, and harsh panting. He glared up at his conqueror. Gabriel said the first word that had been spoken since the door had opened. "Give."

Blair bared his teeth, then sullenly turned his head to the side, arching his neck and presenting his throat in a gesture of submission. Gabriel made a soft, approving growl, and bent down, settling his teeth on the smooth skin. He bit down slowly, feeling the pulse pounding through the soft, vulnerable flesh. He bit till there would be a bruise, and a semi-circular row of rudy teeth imprints, letting Blair feel his power. The young man shuddered more strongly, and made a placating whine.

Gabriel released his grip, licking the bruise gently, and reached down to unfasten Blair's pants, then his own. The ritual of domination had to be completed. Blair understood, and wiggled out of his pants, then lifted his legs onto Gabriel's shoulders without prompting.

Gabriel spread the taut ass cheeks, finding the little puckered opening at the center, and mounted him dry. Again Blair whined, this time with pain, but he pushed back onto Gabriel's invading cock, and his own dick was hard. Gabriel fucked him roughly, jerking his hips almost savagely. This wasn't love making. A point was being made, positions in the pack established. Gentleness could come later.

The room was filled with the gasp and slap of rough sex. Gabriel pumped so hard that he pushed Blair along the rug, and the Guide clutched at his shoulders frantically. As he neared climax, Gabriel took hold of Blair's cock and masturbated him, his touch far from gentle, but stimulating, nonetheless. Blair came first, jetting hot semen across his own belly. Gabriel followed him quickly, emptying himself deep into the narrow, clenching channel of the smaller man's body.

The schattenjaeger collapsed on top of Blair, letting the younger man's legs slip down and stretch out, pulling his cock free. For a long moment they lay there, panting. Blair began to lick and nibble at Gabriel's throat and face, and Gabriel allowed it. Now and then his own tongue darted out to tangle briefly with the Guide's.

After awhile he rolled off Blair. Still without speaking they went into the bathroom. Blair cleaned first Gabriel, then himself. Finally he said, "Freidrik is waiting for you."

"I know. I came as fast as I could."

"Gabriel?" Blair's voice was low, and he didn't meet the other man's eyes. "We're sick. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, little buddy. I know that. An' I don't know what we can do about it."

Knight saw a tear slip down Blair's face, then another. "I hurt my Sentinel." He put his hands over his face. "I hurt my Jim, and then I acted like it was nothing. But he still doesn't hate me. He loves me."

Gabriel thought about Grace, and felt a twinge. "I talked to him. I could see that."

"I...I don't know if I can stay with him, when I'm like this. I'm so afraid. And I think it's going to get worse, very soon. It's...it's almost the full moon. Tomorrow..."

*Jesus, God. Is it that soon? Yes, I can feel it. What happened here wouldn't have happened a day or two ago. I would have been able to control it. The fever's runnin' too high right now. It's going to be dangerous to go see von Glower, but what choice do I have? I've either got to break free of this, or get his help when...when IT finally happens. Cause I just might go crazy if there isn't someone with me who understands.*

Gabriel touched Blair gently, wiping away the tears. "We need to go, babe."

Blair nodded, sniffling, and went to get a fresh pair of pants.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 35

When she arrived at the Cascade airport, Grace did not bother to look for a hotel room. Instead, she got a taxi cab and headed directly for the Cascade Police Department.

It was late afternoon when she arrived and made her way up to Major Crimes, hoping against hope that either Sandburg or Ellison would be there. There were two men in the office when she arrived: an almost ridiculously good looking one who's desk nameplate identified him as `Rafe', and a handsome black man, who was in the process of putting on a coat.

She looked between them. "I'm looking for either Detective Jim Ellison, or Detective Blair Sandburg."

They exchanged glances. "This certainly is Jim's week for getting visitors at the office," remarked the dark haired man mildly. "I'm Simon Banks, his captain."

Grace was immediately alert, but hardly interested in who or what the other man might be. "Yes? If you don't mind my asking, who else has been here?"

"Um, well," said Rafe, "there was a very tall fellow a day or two ago. Had some sort of an accent. They went to lunch together, as I recall. Then just this afternoon he went out for coffee with another guy. That one had an accent, too. Souther drawl."

*Von Glower. Gabriel. Good God, if they haven't met up already, they're close.* "Is Detective Ellison in?"

Banks frowned. "Well, he was. Might as well not have been, for all the good he's been lately. Distracted as hell."

*Oh, you have NO idea.* "And now?" She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice.

Rafe and Simon exchanged looks again. Rafe said, "I think he went to transfer a prisoner to the county lock up. He may be coming back before he goes home, but I can't be sure. Do you want to leave a message?"

"No. I want to talk to him. It's very important. Can I have his address?"

She saw the denial in their eyes even before they both started shaking their heads. Well, it had been worth a try. "Then I'd like to wait, if I may."

Grace could see the indecision on Banks' face. "Look, if I don't wait here, I wait outside, on the street. I have GOT to talk to him."

Simon studied her. He said slowly, "Is what you have to say to Jim going to HELP him, or HURT him?"

She was as honest with him as she dared to be. "Probably some of both. Hopefully it will mostly help."

"Rafe, were you planning on staying much longer?"

"A little while. I want to catch up on some paperwork." He smiled at Grace. "The eternal monster." He wondered why she winced, and made a mental note to brush up on his small talk.

Banks said, "You can stay till Rafe leaves. If Ellison isn't back by then, you'll have to check back by tomorrow."

She wanted to tell him that tomorrow might be too late...But too late for what? Even SHE wasn't sure. She only knew that delay could only hinder, not help the situation.

The captain made his farewells, and Grace took off her trench coat, hanging it on a coatrack. Rafe pretended to be scanning his paper work, but his eyes were drawn to the petite oriental woman. She was a real beauty. Her appearance was so exotic that it was a little disorienting to hear such a thoroughly American voice and attitude.

He wouldn't ask, since it wasn't any of his business, but Rafe was eaten up with curiosity. What sort of business could such an unusual woman have with ELLISON? Sandburg, he could understand. Sandburg had always struck Rafe as a bit exotic himself, but Jim was about at white bread middle American as it was possible to get.

Rafe cleared his throat, and those sharp, almond shaped eyes turned to him. He pointed. "There's coffee left, if you can stomach it." He smiled. "Though Public Relations may chew me out of letting a defenseless member of the public get hold of station brew."

That got a smile. Just the ghost of one, and he had the feeling that she wasn't so much being friendly as being amused. He must be pretty obvious.

"Thanks. I'm used to that chicory blend in Louisiana that you can use to strip paint. I should be able to handle it."

It occurred to Grace that she might be able to pump some information out of this man before Ellison arrived. He certainly seemed susceptible. She had often frowned on women who used `feminine wiles' to get what they wanted out of men, but she found that lately her standards for what she would and would not do to resolve this problem had changed.

Ignoring the several straight backed chairs in the room, she went to the detective's desk, and leaned a hip against it, sipping. *God, he wasn't kidding. This stuff is foul.*

"Well?"

"Not so bad." *Surely I won't be sent to Hell for THAT little lie.* "So, Ellison has been...troubled lately?" He frowned. Grace shifted, letting her skirt ride up an inch. "Um, yes. He just hasn't been himself lately. He's pretty attached to his partner. Well, you get like that, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." *Brother, do I know.*

"Anyway, with what Blair is going through lately, I guess it's no surprise that it's affecting Jim, too. He hasn't been able to persuade Sandburg to see a therapist yet. From what I've heard, he's getting worse. Mood swings, insomnia, aggression, eating problems..."

*Deja vu all over again. Yeah, Sandburg's definitely going through what Gabe is. Ellison should be ready to grab at any assistance he can get by now. He was already suspicious of von Glower back in Germany. It shouldn't be too hard to convince him that he has to be eliminated, for Blair's AND Gabriel's sake.*

"How did he react to the other's who've been in to see him?"

"Surprised mostly for the German guy. Well, you don't really expect someone you met in another country to just show up more or less on your doorstep, do you? He didn't seem really agitated by him till he came back from lunch, though. And the second guy...Well, it was kind of the opposite. He was really stirred up when he came in, but when he came back from taking him to the diner, he seemed...I don't know. Not PEACEFUL, that's for sure. But a little less frantic. Like he still had a bad situation on his hands, but someone had showed him something that might help."

*What did you tell him, Gabriel? I'm betting you didn't tell him about that incident in your cell. I bet you didn't tell him that you weren't really sure whether you came to Cascade to kill your maker, or to join with your mate.*

Grace had all she needed from Rafe, but she stayed perched against the desk for a few minutes longer. He was a good looking man, and he wasn't quite drooling, so he had a little class. She might even have been interested, before this whole mess got started. Maybe when it was over. Because she had a feeling that she might as well never hope for anything in the romance department from Gabriel now. She'd be lucky to keep his friendship. Especially with what she might do to von Glower.

There wasn't ann mistaking the man who walked through the door. Even if he'd been in a crowd, Grace would have known him instantly. Besides just the physical aspects, he still had much of the same stress and anguish he'd exhibited in the hospital in Germany. God, had the poor man been living with this all this time?

"Detective Ellison?"

He seemed startled, and Grace had a feeling that Jim Ellison didn't startle easily. "Miss... Nakimura?"

"Grace."

"From Germany. You're friend..."

"We need to talk about him. Where is he?"

"Probably with Blair. I sent him to the apartment this afternoon. Maybe he can help..."

"Mr. Ellison, Gabriel can't help himself, much less anyone else. What did he tell you?"

"He thought that maybe together he and Blair could figure out how..." He looked at Rafe.

Rafe got up and put on his coat. "I was just leaving, Jim." He nodded at Grace. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Nakimura. I wish it was under more peaceful circumstances. Maybe some other time..." He shrugged.

"Maybe so." She gave him a small smile as he left.

When he was gone, Jim continued. "Maybe they could figure out how to lift the curse."

Grace frowned. "Figure out? Detective, Gabriel already KNOWS a way to lift the curse."

Jim's expression darkened. "I knew he was hiding something. There was something off about him. He didn't... smell right. How can they remove the curse?"

"It's simple. Von Glower has to die."

Grace saw a brief spark of elation in the big policeman's eyes, and found herself thinking *Yes! He'll do it, I won't have to.* But then the flame was doused by cold cop instincts.

"That isn't an option. Not if he isn't attacking someone."

"And if he is?"

"I'd try to stop him. If I couldn't do it any other way, only then would I resort to lethal force."

"You may not have the luxury of much time to decide."

"I'm fast, Miss Nakimura. Very fast."

"So is von Glower. Did Gabriel tell you what he really is?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe him?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Then we really DON'T have much time, Detective. Because the first full moon since the attacks on Gabriel and Blair is tomorrow. And if they turn, and should taste human blood, then there's no going back. They're damned."

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 36

The two young men were silent on the way to the hotel. All that needed to be said, had been. The beast was near the surface in both of them, and communication was a non verbal thing for the beast. It was more scent and sense.

They paused at the desk long enough to ascertain that Baron von Glower was, indeed, in his room, then passed on to the elevator. The staff in the lobby exchanged curious glances, then shrugs. The European aristocrat had...curious visitors. The long hair on one of the men, the leather jacket on the other, and the strained expressions on both, brought up some speculation. But then, this WAS the new millennium...

Blair didn't have to show Gabriel which room von Glower was in. The moment the doors opened on the hallway, Gabriel was moving. He almost loped down the corridor, head high, swiveling alertly for some sign of his alpha. And he stopped before the correct door, staring at it, chest heaving. He didn't have to knock. As Blair came up behind him, the door opened, and Freidrik was there.

For a long moment the two men stared at each other, emerald eyes meeting sapphire. Then Freidrik held out his arms, and Gabriel moved into them.

Gabriel tucked his head on Freidrik's shoulder, and the other man held him tight, rocking him and murmuring in German. "Meine Lebensdauer, meine Liebe, meine Seele. Meine andere Hälfte, die mich vollständig bildet. Ich wußte daß Sie zu mir kommen würden."

Blair watched the two men. There was such tenderness and joy in von Glower. It seemed to radiate from him. There was no doubt that he genuinely loved the rather confused young man he was embracing. Blair felt a pang. It must be wonderful to be loved like that.

Then he remembered another pair of blue eyes, and the passion and warmth blazing from them, directed at him, Blair Sandburg. And he knew that he DID have that sort of love, but it wasn't here. It wasn't with these men. There was a bond, yes. A strong bond, one of spirit and blood. But it wasn't love. Not for him. Love was with Jim. But what was he going to do? He needed this so badly. There was something inside that he knew would rip and tear at him, and anyone around him, if he tried to deny it.

He almost backed away quietly and left them there. Almost. But then von Glower looked up at him, and held out his hand. Gabriel tilted his head to look at Blair also. There was such acceptance and understanding in those eyes, blue and green, that he found himself moving forward into what became a three way embrace. He laid his head on von Glower's other shoulder. This was, he knew, a false sense of peace and belonging, but it would do for now.

After a moment, Freidrik pulled away gently, drawing them in, and shut the door. "Our affairs are not for the public eye, mein kinder."

Von Glower turned back to Gabriel, stroking his face, tracing the strong line of his mouth. "I would have come back for you, my angel. You know that."

Gabriel nodded. "I had t' come. I couldn't stand waitin' there. I was... I was afraid of what I might do... to Grace. To Gerde..."

"Yes, I understand." He laid his hand on Gabriel's chest. "The beast is here, growing stronger every minute, yes?" Gabriel's head dropped, the red gold hair obscuring his tortured expression. Again von Glower embraced him. "I know, my love, I know. The first time is very frightening. I am glad you came. I have so wanted to be with you for this."

"Freidrik," Gabriel whispered. "You don't know... When I started from Rittersburg... I... I think..."

"You were coming to kill me." Gabriel's head jerked back, and he gazed, horror struck, at the man who held him. But there was no reproach in von Glower's eyes. A certain sadness, but no recriminations. "It is natural, Gabriel. I never meant you any harm, but I have killed your old life. You can't go back to what you were. But you must realize that is the same whether I live or die. You can NEVER again be what you were before. Even if the beast is chained and muzzled, deep in your soul, never to roam free again, it will be there, and you will know it. When the moon is full, it will shake the bars of its cage, and howl."

That was a terrifying thought. To lose the curse, but only partially. Instead of dealing with the wildness a few days each month, and being done with it, to have to fight it every hour of your life, with no one who truly understood to help. That existence would be lonely beyond belief.

"But that will not happen, my two loves. I am here for you. I so wanted to be with you both for this first change. I will do all that I can to comfort you and keep you safe. We will need to leave here soon, and I'm afraid I'm not really sure where we will go. I want to take you somewhere away from men. I will keep you from killing your own kind, if I can. I...did not have much choice in the matter." There was an inexpressible sadness in Freidrik's voice.

"I don't trust to locked doors. They have failed me before, and THREE determined lycanthropes..." He shook his head. "Even a prison would be a risk."

"I know a place," Blair spoke up, eager and proud to be able to help his little family. "Jim and I camp a lot. Usually we use a tent, but there's a little cabin we've visited, when there's too much snow on the ground. I think it should be available now. It's miles from anyone and anything."

"That would be perfect, cub." Blair basked in his alpha's warm approval.

"I'll call Larry and see if it's available." Blair dialed the phone. While he spoke, von Glower led Gabriel over to the bed, and they sat together. Gabriel moved to curl up on the bed, his head in von Glower's lap, and the older werewolf gently stroked his hair as he watched the youngest beta make the call.

"Larry? Hey, how ya doin'? I'm fine. Yeah, Jim's fine, too. He says hi. Look, we got a little unexpected time off, and were wondering if the cabin is available. Right now. Yeah, tomorrow. For, oh," he looked at Freidrik. The baron held up three fingers. "Three, four nights. Sure. That would be fantastic. No, we won't need anything. Key in the same place? Uh huh. You KNOW what Jim told you about that. Well, I won't tell him. I'll just say that you sent me a duplicate, and I forgot to tell him. Okay. Thanks, Larry. You're a lifesaver."

Blair hung up, and turned to the couple on the bed. "It's set. The drive takes a little over three hours."

"Then we have time." Von Glower held out his hand to Blair in wordless invitation.

Blair hesitated. But Gabriel turned his head, and smiled at him, then turned back to begin nuzzling at Freidrik's crotch. Blair could feel himself beginning to stiffen in his pants. He walked over slowly, and sat on von Glower's other side.

Freidrik pushed his hair back from his face tenderly, and began to drop light kisses along his cheek, down his jaw. When he reached Blair's throat, Blair heard the quiet rasp of a zipper. A moment later, von Glower moaned against his skin as Gabriel took the baron's rigid cock into his mouth.

Slowly Blair and Freidrik undressed each other, as much as they could without Gabriel losing his oral contact with his alpha, because he refused to do that. When Freidrik had tried to tug Gabe's head back, he'd been met with a low growl. He laughed in astonishment, looking at Blair. "He gave me his teeth, the greedy thing!"

Von Glower leaned over Gabriel, and whispered in his ear, "Leibchen, you must let me go." Another growl, and a snuffle, as Gabriel very deliberately swallowed the entire length of von Glower's shaft. "Mein Gott!" Freidrik gasped. "You don't understand, my heart. I want to give you and my cub a gift for the first time we are together. Gabriel, I want both of you to fuck me."

Blair almost fell backward, and Gabriel released his prize with a slurp to stare up at Freidrik, unbelievingly. Freidrik nodded, smiling at their expressions. "Is it so hard to believe, dear ones? It is only right to want to give yourself to the ones you love." He caressed Gabriel's face, then Blair's. "And I trust you both."

Blair and Gabriel exchanged startled looks. Blair knew, better than Gabriel, how unusual this was. In the wild, the lead wolf of a pack did not submit to being mounted by an inferior. It just didn't happen. This could only be von Glower's human side. He cared for them both to over ride the brute instinct that drove him to dominate. He would give himself to them, without forcing them to fight for the privilege. It was, as he said, a gift.

Gabriel sat up, "Freidrik, you sure?"

"Yes, Gabriel. Please, do not be so dumbfounded. I have lived a long time. There are few pleasures I haven't sampled. I know what I'm asking for. I relish the thought."

He kissed Gabriel. "First you, my angel. Then sweet Blair. It isn't that I don't love you, cub, but he IS your elder."

"I'll live." The two older men couldn't restrain a chuckle.

"Now." Freidrik stood up long enough to remove the rest of his clothing, then climbed on the bed. He lay down, bending his knees and grabbing his legs, spreading them. "The lubricant is in the night stand."

Blair looked at Gabriel eagerly. "Can I open him up for you?"

Gabriel tousled his hair. "Go on, kiddo." Gabriel stripped while Blair located the little tube, and coated his fingers. Blair knelt naked on the bed, and ran his greased hand down the spread crease of von Glower's ass, eliciting a sigh. "Get him nice and wet, Blair." Gabriel bent over and began kissing Freidrik's chest. "He's gonna need to be ready if we're BOTH gonna do him."

"So considerate," Freidrik murmured wryly, then gasped as Blair slid the first finger up inside him. "It...has been awhile." he admitted.

"Should I stop?" Blair asked, concerned.

"No, pet, no. Just give me a moment at each stage, yes?"

Blair patiently worked the single digit in and out of his older lover, gradually loosening the taut, muscular ring. He was hard pressed to decide which to watch: his own finger pumping slowly in von Glower's ass, or Gabriel as he tongued and nibbled their lover's nipples, bringing them to aching hardness.

When he felt he was ready, Blair pulled out, added a bit more lube, and pushed two fingers into the hot, narrow channel. Freidrik groaned, his hips lifting slightly. "Ah, I had forgotten how good it was. More, Blair, more."

Blair had intended to go more slowly, but if this was what Freidrik wanted... He scissored his fingers briefly, then pushed a third finger in beside the first two. He twisted, probing, feeling for the magic spot. When he found it, von Glower's back arched, and he whimpered. "Yes! Oh, yes."

He clutched Gabriel's shoulder. "Please, Gabriel. Now."

Blair pulled his hand free and got out of the way quickly. He crawled higher up on the bed as the schattzenjaeger move into position between Freidrik's spread legs. Blair pushed Freidrik's hands away, and grabbed his knees, holding his legs up and open to give Gabriel access to Freidrik's core, and allow Freidrik to relax a bit and enjoy the experience.

Gabriel worked his knees up under von Glower's buttocks, positioning himself. Then he paused for a moment. He pressed his fingers up under Freidrik's balls, finding the sensitive spot, and rubbing, letting his thumb move down to dig shallowly into the hungry hole beneath it.

Von Glower's head tossed on the pillow, "Gabriel!"

Gabe grinned at him, sinking the thumb in a scant inch. Now it was Freidrik who growled, and tried to push back on him. "Gabriel, don't tease."

Gabriel relented. He replaced his thumb with the blunt, broad head of his cock, and pushed, slowly sliding into the wet heat till he was fully buried, his balls nestling in the crack of his lover's ass.

The baron let out a long, heartfelt sigh. "Perfect." he whispered. "I'm whole again. Fuck me, my angel. Fuck me hard."

Gabriel started to move on him, move IN him. Sex with Blair, and with the blind boy on the plane, had been good, but this... This was how it was meant to be. Him, and Freidrik. How could he have ever doubted it? Why did he fight it for so long? So much time wasted.

Gabriel thrust steadily, reveling in the sweet friction, relishing every tiny movement and moan that his lover made. *All because of me* Gabe thought. *I'm the one doin' this to him. I'm the one who's makin' this fine, strong man sweat and tremble and cry out.* Aloud he panted, "Gonna make you scream, Freidrik."

"Yes, angel. Do it."

Gabriel's thrusts speeded up, and became stronger. Freidrik was not fragile, he could take a lot. They both knew this. Soon Gabriel was throwing himself into the deed, slamming into his lover's body with all the power he could muster, feet digging and pushing at the sheets for leverage.

Finally he rammed into Freidrik deeper than ever before, feeling that he must have reached the man's very center, and came with a fountaining gush that shook every fiber of his being. Freidrik did, indeed, scream. He called Gabriel's name, clutching the heaving man to his body as Gabriel's seed emptied into him in pulse after liquid pulse.

But he hadn't cum yet. Trapped between his body and Gabriel's his prick was swollen rock hard, drooling copious amounts of pre-seminal fluid. Gabe panted, "Aw, shit, Freidrik. Man, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, my precious."

"But... you didn't get off, and I'm through for a little..."

Freidrik gave Gabriel a hot smile. "Gabriel, it's Blair's turn."

Gabriel laughed breathlessly, pulling out of von Glower. "Yeah, I almost forgot." He slapped Blair on the shoulder. "It's up to you, boy. He needs it bad."

Blair let go of von Glower's legs. His voice was hoarse, excited. "I want you from behind."

"Like I had you, pup? Yes, only fitting." Freidrik rolled onto his belly, then got up on his hands and knees, bracing his legs wide. "I'm ready for you, my lover."

Blair stared. Von Glower's buttocks glowed from the slapping of flesh against flesh when Gabriel fucked him. Freidrik reached back and used one hand to pull aside a buttock, exposing his most secret self to Blair's hungry gaze. The ass hole, so tiny and puckered when they had begun, was slightly open now, rosy from it's stretching and battering. As Blair watched, a dribble of pearly cum oozed out to trickle down the inside of a strong male thigh.

With a cry, Blair threw himself on von Glower. He rammed home so hard that he almost knocked the bigger man flat, and earned a sharp yelp of mingled pain and ecstacy.

It was different than it had been with Jim. Now he had no sense of taking advantage of someone's helplessness. His partner was not only willing, but eager. Jim had responded, but reluctantly. Freidrik sought Blair's pleasure, and his own, vigorously. He thrust back to meet each of Blair's lunges, squeezing with his internal muscles.

Gabriel reached under his jerking body, and gripped von Glower's rigid, swaying cock, masturbating him in time to Blair's fucking. Frederick was gasping, head down, overwhelmed by the sensations coming from two different sources, unable to decide which was more pleasurable. In the end, it didn't matter if it was Gabriel's hand on his cock, or Blair's cock in his ass that finally sent him over the edge. He came, spraying the rumpled sheets with hot, thick ropes of cum. His howl was worthy of the beast itself.

Blair didn't last much longer. It would have taken a man of iron to resist the internal flex that stroked his turgid staff when Freidrik shuddered and squeezed around him, and Blair Sandburg was only flesh and blood.

He came, shouting a name as his orgasm rocked him, and his seed spilled into Freidrik's ass to mingle with Gabriel's. And even as the tremors shook him, he was sobbing in sudden hurt and shame. "I'm sorry! Oh, I'm sorry!"

Shaking a little, Freidrik pulled free of the young man's impaling cock, which was beginning to soften. He turned, and pulled Blair into his arms, patting him comfortingly, as Gabriel watched, expression inscrutable.

"It's alright, cub. Shh. It's alright. I'm not hurt." He sighed, and kissed the top of Blair's head. "We have such a mess we must straighten out later. But I understand, pet." He rocked the Guide as his sobs gradually lessened.

"You don't mind?" Blair whispered.

"No, child, I don't mind. You love him." Again he hugged Blair, comforting. "It's only natural that you call for Jim."

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 37

Grace's POV

We went to the apartment that Ellison and Sandburg shared. I was hoping against hope that Gabriel would be there, talking to the other man who'd contracted von Glower's curse. No such luck, dammit. I should have known better. Things just DON'T go smoothly.

Ellison was troubled the second we got in his building. He froze for a second out in the hallway, his head going up. It was like an animal when the wind brings it the scent of something dangerous. I swear, I could almost SEE his ears pricking. "Something's wrong." He wasn't really speaking to me. I just happened to be there.

He moved quickly then, opening the door and almost running into the apartment, only to skid to a halt in the middle of the room. I watched as he turned in a slow circle. Somehow I knew he was seeing things I wasn't. Smelling them, too, from the way his nostrils were flaring.

"Jesus," he whispered. "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Blair, what happened? What did you DO? What did HE do?"

"What is it?"

"There... something happened here. It..." He grimaced, almost as if he were in physical pain. "It's... THICK in here."

"What? Ellison, what do you know? And how do you know it? The place looks fine to me."

"That's because you're not a sentinel."

"God, will you talk English, please? How can my not being a guard have anything to do with..."

"Not 'guard'. Sentinel. There's a difference. I don't have the time or patience to explain it, or try to make you believe it, so you'll just have to trust me and take me at my word. I'm different, Grace. My senses are heightened, and if I want to, I can make them VERY heightened. I can see, hear, taste, smell, and feel things ordinary men can't, and I use it in my police work. And right now the sensory input in this room is... is almost enough to make me zone."

I had no idea what a zone was, but I could tell from Ellison's strained expression and tone of voice that it wasn't anything I wanted to have happen. "Are you alright?"

He swayed slightly. "I need Blair." His eyes were starting to unfocus, the pupils dilating. His voice was becoming more distant.

"Jim!" I moved instinctively to touch him, laying a hand on his arm. "Listen to me! You can't let this get to you, you have to fight it, whatever it is. Do you hear me? Fight it! If you don't, then both Gabriel and Blair don't stand a chance." I shook his arm slightly. "Do it for Blair!"

I could see the man pulling himself together, drawing back both mentally and physically from some edge I could only imagine. He took a deep breath, his eyes clearing, and looked at me. "You know, I think we might need to try to find you a sentinel I think you may be guide material."

"Thanks, I think."

"Yeah, it's a compliment." He shook his head, as if to clear away the last of a mental fog. "Sorry, but it's pretty intense."

Again I looked around, puzzled. "What is it that you're aware of that I'm not?"

"Well, the most obvious one is the smell." I cocked my head. "No, you can't smell it, but it's only BARELY below your sense level, believe me."

"Is... is it like... blood? A dead body?" My tone was almost fearful.

Jim shook his head. "No, but it's the scent of aggression. There was a fight for dominance in this room; a serious one, not just a macho pissing contest. The testosterone and adrenaline levels are almost off the scale. And..." He slid an ice blue glance at me. "The pheromones."

I frowned. "Pheromones? But those are..."

"In the dictionary, it's a naturally secreted chemical that influences the behavior of a member of the same species. In common usage, it means a hormonal scent that both indicates and causes sexual arousal."

"Oh."

"Sex and power are close, Grace: in the human world, and even more so in the animal. And the animal smell is almost overwhelming here, too. It's mixed with Blair and Gabriel's scent so closely that it's hard to distinguish them. That would jibe with what you told me."

I stared around. "All right, I'll just take the scenting as a given. But what do you SEE? I mean, nothing's knocked over, or torn up."

Silently he went to the wall and minutely straightened a picture that was infinitesimally ajar. He used his toe to smooth out a slight wrinkle in the rug, then tapped the fabric. I bent and looked closer. There was a whitish damp patch, no bigger than a rice grain. Finally he tweezed something up off the floor between thumb and forefinger, and offered it to me. It was a single long, red-gold hair. Damn. With the rug pattern, I would have needed a microscope to pick that out of the fibers.

"Okay, so he was here, and... something happened. Where are they now?"

Jim rubbed his face. "THAT I do not know. I'm good, but I'm not psychic."

"Well, couldn't you, like, track them or something?"

He gave me a pained look, and I felt foolish. He said patiently, "How much luck does a bloodhound have if his quarry gets in a taxi and takes off?" His expression was suddenly intent. "But..."

He plucked a crumpled scrap of paper out from under the sofa, and looked at it, then handed it to me. I felt my pulse speed up. The words scrawled on the paper were in a hand that was hatefully familiar to me: von Glower's. It seemed to be the name of a hotel, and a room and phone number.

He had his keys out, and we were moving toward the door when the phone rang. He froze, then went to it quickly. As he picked it up, he said hopefully, "Blair?" His face fell. "Oh, hi, Larry. Haven't left for where yet?" He was suddenly even more tense. "Yeah, you're right. It IS nice to get a little unexpected time off. Yeah, I'll be sure to be careful. Don't worry. Did Blair mention when he expected us to arrive? Yeah, you're right, it IS a late start. Thanks again. Yeah, bye."

He hung up, and swung around to face me. That was a hunting face if ever I saw one. "What?"

"That was a guy I've rented a cabin from occasionally. He wanted to warn me that Blair and I need to be careful about building a fire when we get up there, because he thinks the chimney needs a good cleaning. He was glad he caught us before we started up."

"Is this cabin away from civilization?"

"Miles. It's isolated, off a dirt road. There aren't even any other seasonal cabins near it."

"He's taking them out into the woods for their first change. I... hadn't expected that. I thought he'd glory in the chance to be loose among unprotected people." This revelation bothers me a little. I don't like to think of von Glower as doing anything that might be even remotely considered mindful of others.

Jim shakes his head. "It's a damn good thing I didn't find that paper right away. We'd have been on our way to the hotel by now, missed the phone call, and we'd never have known where they really went." He started toward the door. "Come on."

"Wait."

He halted. "Why? Come on, we need to get after them."

"How long will it take us to get there?"

"Not long. A few hours."

"We don't know how long they've been gone. They could have just left, could have already arrived. We know where they're going, though. Once they get there, they won't be leaving, not until after the full moon passes, anyway. We don't have anything to worry about till moonrise tomorrow."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that we're both tired, and stressed, and that it might not be the best way to come up against three werewolves, especially when two of them are going to be brand new and probably scared out of their wits. Fear makes aggression. You know that. I think we should wait, and head out to the cabin tomorrow."

He hesitates, clearly torn. He sees logic in my argument, but the instinct to go after his friend is strong. These two must me... close. At last his broad shoulders slump dispiritedly. "I guess you're right. The drive will be tiring enough without going into it on top of a full day."

"I'll come by tomorrow early..."

"You don't have to leave." He gestures toward a small room on the ground floor. "You can have Blair's old room. I have fresh sheets."

I hesitate. I don't like hotels. There's something rather soulless about them, and I don't want to deal with soulless things after what I've been through lately. "All right."

He goes to the bathroom and comes back with sheets. "There's food in the kitchen, and beer. Help yourself. I'd offer to cook, but..." He trails off.

"No problem. I understand." He goes into the room, and I hear the faint rustling of cloth as he shakes out the sheets and begins to dress the bed. I go and look in the refrigerator, but nothing really looks appealing, so I just take a beer. I drink it, leaning on the counter, thinking about Gabe. I don't wonder whether or not I've lost him, I know I have. I just wonder on how many different LEVELS I've lost him.

Ellison has been in the room longer than it should take to slap a couple of sheets on the bed. I put aside the bottle, and go to look in.

The bed is made, and he's sitting on the edge of the mattress. A pillow case is pooled on the floor at his feet, and he's holding a stripped pillow, his face buried in it. When I come to the doorway, he looks up quickly, his face wet with tears, and I realize that this must have been Blair's pillow. He's been sitting there, drinking in the scent.

I ought to leave. Some moments are too private to intrude on. But I don't, because I remember how I felt in von Glower's house when I put my face in Gabe's leather jacket and smelled the scent that could belong to no other being on the face of this earth. I don't leave. Instead, I go in and sit beside him.

He's too upset to be embarrassed. He sighs shakily, laying the pillow on the bed and smoothing it. "Blair." The single word seems to explain everything. I nod.

He looks at me beseechingly. "It's not just NOW, you know? I... I feel like he's been slipping away from me for a long time, ever since that night in the forest. Slipping away before I could really take hold of him and tell him and show him how I feel."

"Yes, I know. Like Gabriel. But you had a chance to show him, didn't you Jim? I haven't with Gabriel. I don't think I ever will, now."

We look at each other, in silent communion. We are two people who are desperately afraid of losing someone they love, without being sure that the loved ones are even aware of that love.

It isn't the best reason in the world for what happens, but it's enough. It's an excuse, anyway, and I'll take what I can get. I'm feeling pretty cut adrift right now, and Jim Ellison strikes me as excellent anchor material.

I reach over, and wipe a tear off Jim's lean cheek. He closes his eyes briefly, and sort of leans into the touch. He's hurting as much as I am, maybe more. I think... this is going to happen.

I'm surprised at myself. Oh, I'm not a virgin, despite my parents' fond illusions. But I'm not a slut, either, and I've known Jim Ellison only a few hours. That doesn't seem to matter, though. We're both lonely, and hurting, and we need something, or someone. And if the other someone understands... So much the better.

I made the first move, I continue to lead the way. I don't kiss him on the lips. Somehow, that would be wrong. That's something for lovers.

I DO kiss him on the neck, pressing my lips to the strong pulse that throbs just beneath the skin. I feel his hands come up and gently cradle the back of my head. Such big hands. I'm not a big woman, but suddenly I'm feeling particularly tiny.

I kiss my way around his throat to the other side, and his hands slide down my back caressingly. The last time a man touched me in an intimate manner was in Rittersburg, when Gabriel, in the thrall of the beast, almost raped me. This is different: gentle, and slow.

I stand up for a moment, and start to unbutton my blouse. He watches me with shadowed eyes. I remove the garment, dropping it, and begin to unfasten my skirt, and he says hesitantly, "Grace? I haven't been with a woman... for some time. Not since before Blair and I... discovered what we really felt."

"It's alright. It's been a while for me, too." I take off my bra, then my panties. I didn't bother with hose, and the socks and shoes follow quickly.

"I love Blair. I... don't want to hurt him. But... but I feel..."

I sit beside him again, putting my fingers against his mouth. "I understand. Sometimes you just NEED someone, Jim. And if you can't have the one you really want, then someone else who cares a little will have to do."

He lets me pull the T-shirt over his head. He's different from my Gabriel. The muscles are sleeker, the flat nipples darker, but he's a beautiful man, all the same. He's just not my Gabe. I push him back gently on the bed, and begin to make love to him, running my tongue over the firm plane of his chest, teasing his nipples to stiffened attention.

He responds very quickly, and I wonder if it's his Sentinel sense of touch, or just his need. I trail my mouth down his torso while my hands work his belt, and open his jeans. By the time I reach his groin, I've eased out his half-erect prick.

I think about fellatio, but I've never done it before, and I'm not quite ready to start now. I DO blow hot gusts of breath over the staff as I work it carefully between my palms, bringing him to a full hard on. When he's erect and dripping with pre-semenal fluid, I skin his jeans and boxers down, discarding them along with his shoes.

He turns on his side, reaching into the drawer of the night stand, and comes up with a condom and a tube of lubricant. He looks at the tube for a moment, then quietly replaces it. He quickly tears open the foil pack, and sheaths himself in latex, then lies back down.

I have the feeling that he isn't usually this passive a lover, but then, this situation is out of the ordinary. As I move above him, he closes his eyes, covering them with his arm. It isn't me he's going to be fucking, and I can deal with that. I'm not really going to be making love to HIM, either.

I position myself as I kneel over him, holding his cock with one hand and fitting the broad head against my vagina. He hasn't really touched me, but I'm wet already. We really DIDN'T need the lubricant. Slowly, I start to sink down.

He's a big man, and I'm built on the dainty side, but I don't stop until I've taken all of him. When I stop, our pubic hair is meshed, and we're both panting raggedly. I'm so full I feel like I'm going to burst, but that's GOOD. I've felt empty for a long time.

I start to rise and fall on his impaling shaft, just an inch or two at first. He moans quietly, and I can't help but answer him. After a minute or two, I have to speed up. I increase the length of my slide: ascending farther each time, then gliding back down to take his full length. I set up a steady rhythm.

Soon, though, he begins pushing up to meet me. He pumps steadinly, thrusting deeply with each lift of his hips, and he speeds up, too.

He may have most of his face covered by his arm, but I can see the flush that spreads down his neck, out to his chest, even. His teeth are clenched.

Finally, eyes still squeezed shut, he moves his hands down and grabs my hips, holding me, and begins to fuck almost savagely, throwing himself up into me with every stroke. His grip slides, and one of his thumbs slides into the crease of my sex, finding my clitoris just above where his dick is buried in my flesh.

I come, howling, and he makes a few more ragged thrusts before spilling his seed into the sterile confines of the condom. As he comes, he turns his face, burying it in the pillow, and I can see his lips silently forming the name of the man he loves.

I pull off him, and we sleep beside each other in the narrow bed, touching, but not holding. I wish that I had called for Gabriel when my climax hit me, and I lie awake for some time wondering why I didn't.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 38

The three men stood inside the front door of the chain restaurant, waiting to be seated. Gabriel was grumbling. "Look Freidrik, if you thought we HAD to have breakfast, we coulda just had room service."

Blair chimed in, "Or donuts. We could have eaten them in the car while we drove."

Gabriel nodded. "I'd kill for a biegnet right about now."

Freidrik pointed at the breakfast buffet. "I believe they have french toast strips."

Gabriel shook his head sadly at his misconception, "Not the same thing, man."

Freidrik was patient. "I will explain to you again why we are doing this. First, we needed to get out of the hotel as quickly as possible. Blair's Jim had not yet come looking for us, but it was only a matter of time." As he said this, Blair tucked his head, eyes shadowed, and Freidrik rubbed his back comfortingly. The pup was really hurting over his partner. Freidrik feared that it was a true mating instead of a casual coupling. This might be difficult.

"Second, you two must eat."

"Well, I'm a tad peckish, but it's nothin' frantic," Gabriel muttered.

Freidrik captured Gabriel's eyes, making sure that he was paying attention before he spoke again, slowly and deliberately. "You must eat. Today I will stuff you as you have never been stuffed before. This is important, Gabriel."

The hostess came up, smiling brightly. "Three?"

"Yes, please. Non-smoking, if possible."

"Sure. Follow me."

The little group wound its way back through the restaurant. It was early but, since this particular chain featured an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet prominently in its national advertising, it was busy. The tables were packed, but a bus boy was just wiping down a booth near the buffet, and the hostess led them here.

Freidrik waved away the menus, saying, "We will have the buffet. Boys, tell her what you want to drink."

Blair opted for tea, Gabriel for coffee, and Freidrik had a glass of tomato juice. The waitress jotted down their order, then left, saying brightly, "Just help yourself to the food. Please use a clean plate for each return trip. We don't mind the dirty dishes!"

When she was gone, Freidrik continued. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and whatever snacks you can force down in-between. You will not disobey me on this, cubs," he said sternly.

"But why? I like food as well as the next person," Blair smiled faintly, "Better, if you listen to Ellison. And I AM a little hungry. But why should we cram?" He patted an admirably flat stomach. "I don't want to pork up.'

Freidrik smiled. "Believe me, pup, there is no chance of that. You two don't understand... You can't imagine what is going to happen to you tonight. The transformation, especially the first one, is... rigorous. Your bodies will need the extra fuel. You're going to burn off a lot of calories just... becoming what you really are."

The waitress brought the drinks, and the men fell silent. She glanced around at them. My, this was a handsome group, even if the two long haired ones looked a little worn out. "You folks can help yourself, anytime."

"Yes, miss." Freidrik smiled at her charmingly. "We just have a few things to settle before we begin."

"Oh. Okay. If you need anything, my name is Mandy."

There was enough of their old selves left in Sandburg and Knight for them to both give the girl smiles that warmed her to her bones. She walked away with a distinct tingle, and an extra swing in her hips. Freidrik shook his head. He had two charmers on his hands.

"And another reason why I want your bellies full when the moon rises: if you are not completely satiated with food, the need to hunt will be intense. And Blair, you have told us that the cabin is far from civilization, but nothing is certain."

Blair sat up straighter, his expression anxious. "You mean we might..."

"As you grow older, Blair, you will retain more of your waking self each time you transform. But this first time, the beast will hold full control. I have not killed man for a long, long time. Many years. Garr never got beyond that first stage. I should have realized..." He stopped, sighing at the thought of his mad, dead lover. "I hope that you two will never go through that. The first time, I wasn't given a choice, really. I don't want that for you two. So..." He slapped the tabletop lightly. "You feast today. For your own sake, and for my peace of mind."

Freidrik's directive wasn't all that hard to carry out, once they got up to the breakfast bar. Something about the scent of bacon was a trigger to the stomach. Before Blair had picked up his first warmed plate, his stomach was loudly demanding to be fed. A little girl ahead of him in line, no more than five, and holding onto her father's belt, turned to stare at his tummy, wide-eyed. Then she looked up into Blair's grinning face and exclaimed, "You sound like you have a big ol' doggy in there!"

Blair bent close and whispered confidentially, "Nah, it's a wolf." The little girl giggled and hid her face against her father's hip.

Gabriel poked him good naturedly, "Quit flritin' with the girls an' chow down, Sandburg."

"Oh, yeah, like you WEREN'T with that waitress."

Gabriel was scooping up a bowl of grits. He gave his packmate a serene smile, "Ah can't help it if ahm irresistible."

Frederick smiled, watching his two little one's tease each other. If all went well, their first night in beast form would be nothing more than one long, free romp in the woods. This was what he wanted for them: to experience the liberty and ecstacy without the darker aspects. To them, he wanted it to be a gift, rather than a curse.

There are certain people who can make the management of an all-you-can-eat establishment almost regret their policy. This was one of those groups. The servers kept busy trotting out portions of bacon, sausage, pancakes, eggs, biscuits, gravy, and french toast.

The little waitress cleared empty plates away from their table several times to make room for fresh. The counter help watched in growing amazement. Usually they didn't see that type of consumption from anyone less than the occasional lumberjack who passed through. And none of the men were the least bit fat. What on earth did they DO with all of it?

Then, when he was paying the bill, the dark haired man with the accent purchased a large bag of fresh donuts from the bakery section, telling the gaping cashier, "For the road."

The day manager shook her head as she watched them go out to the car. "I know we make up the extra they cost us on the people who only eat a few bites, but DAMN! And hardly a spare ounce on any of 'em. They must be those high metabolism types. I'd hate 'em on general principle if they weren't all so damn fine."

Grace and Jim's breakfast was much less ample, but neither really wanted to take the time for anything else. Breakfast sandwiches from Wonderburger and coffee were all any wanted, and that was mainly because they both knew that it would be better NOT to face a trio of werewolves if they were fainting from hunger.

Grace munched her breakfast, wondering how they got the eggs in those perfect little hockey puck shapes. Of course, they TASTED better than hockey pucks. A little. She admired the way Jim juggled cup and sandwich while he drove. He didn't have to do it for long. He'd gotten two sandwiches, and managed them in about four bites each.

"How far behind them do you think we are?" She nibbled.

"I don't know. I wish I knew if they'd left last night or this morning."

"Well, we really don't want to run into them on the road. Whatever happens, the less citizens around, the better."

"Yeah, you're right about that."

Jim was wearing his jacket. He'd gotten dressed while Grace was using the shower. "Did you bring your gun?"

He looked at her sharply. "Yes, of course I did. I'm a police officer, and this is a potentially dangerous situation."

"Good."

"Grace, I don't know what you're expecting. I'm not just going to shoot the man."

"No, that would be too much to hope for."

"Grace!"

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I've hated the man for quite a while now, Jim. It isn't easy for me to think of him as a human being, with rights."

"Look, this is going to be complicated enough without worrying about you going all radical on me. Do you promise not to rush into anything once we find them? I want a chance to talk to Blair before I take any real steps." She was silent. "Grace, goddamn it. I'll put your ass out by the side of the road right now!"

"All right."

Grace's POV

He doesn't understand. He's still dealing with this like we're up against a normal man.

I'm a little worried about him talking to Blair, or von Glower. Hell, or GABRIEL, for that matter. They're all three damn PERSUASIVE when they want to be. And, I could be wrong here, but I think I'm not, I sense a little bit of the animal, deep inside Ellison. It isn't quite like it is with Gabriel. There's something more feline than lupine about Ellison, but still. Will the animal bloods call to each other? Can I risk that?

I'm debating just how aggressive I should be in taking action.

I pull my purse closer, feeling the comforting weight of the schattenjaeger dagger inside. If Ellison isn't going to be the macho, rash, murderously protective lover I had hoped, I may have to try to use it. I'm not stupid, and I'm not a coward, but the idea of having to get close enough to use it on von Glower chills me.

And there's the very real chance that I could come off the worse in the confrontation. Unlike fairy tales, good does not always win out over evil in this world. He could kill me, rip out my throat. And even if he didn't...

What if I were bitten, but lived? Oh, God, what a fate that would be. Because I wouldn't be accepted into the pack, not after trying to kill their alpha. I'd be driven away, if not killed outright.

The thought is terrifying. A werewolf, doomed to immortality and loneliness, without anyone like myself, down through what might be centuries.

Then I realize that this is exactly what Freidrik von Glower has faced. I find myself looking at the world, for a moment, through his eyes.

And understanding...

I quickly shake my head. No, I can't allow that. I can't risk even an iota of sympathy or empathy. He has to be The Monster. That is the only way I can do what has to be done. Because if I begin to see him in human terms...

Again I push it from my mind. I slip my hand into my purse and touch the dagger, hoping to draw strength from the cool silver. My fingers trace over the blood red stone in it's hilt, and I repeat, over and over to myself, "Remember Gabriel, remember Gabriel, remember Gabriel..."

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 39

Von Glower's POV

Blair wasn't exaggerating when he said that the cabin was remote. Traffic became sparse, even on the highway, for the last hour of the drive. We passed through a small town that wasn't much more than a gas station, a post office, and a feed store, and when we exited, we turned almost immediately onto a dirt road.

We traveled for at least another half hour, perhaps more. The entire way, there were not other turn offs, no buildings in evidence. I could smell the fresh scent of open water, and knew we were near a pond or a lake. Mingled with the aroma of the pines and other green, growing things, it was almost intoxicating. Sometimes, when I have been in the city for awhile, I almost forget how ALIVE the forest is.

The road narrowed. Eventually it was only a deep rut between close growing greenery. Branches almost interlaced over our heads, so that the sunlight reached us only in patches. Twigs and long grasses brushed the sides of our car as we drove slowly, careful of the shocks.

Finally we made a sharp turn and emerged into a bit of relatively open space. The trees thinned out on either side. There was a bare patch of gravel laced dirt about the size of a small room in front of a tiny, neat cabin.

We parked and got out. With the engine cut off, the only man made sounds were the crunch of our footsteps on the gravel. Other than that, peace broken only by the soughing of the wind among the leaves, the occasional rustle in the brush of a small animal (oh, how my cubs pricked their ears at this!), and the distant song of bird.

I turned slowly, surveying the area. Gabriel and Blair watched me, awaiting my reaction. For a while, they would look to me for everything, but they would grow a bit more independent as time passed. All children grow up, eventually. At last I looked at them and smiled, nodding to Blair. "This will do nicely, I think." They relaxed into smiles. "Now, unload the car, children. I will take a quick look around."

I wanted to keep them occupied as much as possible. Brooding on what was to come tonight would have done no good. I went into the woods as they began to remove boxes of groceries from the trunk. There was quite a bit. We planned to be here for several days, and I was going to stuff them at every opportunity.

I walked into the woods until I could no longer see the cabin, or hear their voices, then I walked farther. I paused and turned slowly in a full circle, examining the sky, and the ground. There were no jet trails across the blue bowl of sky. There were no cans, cigarette butts, or scraps of paper on the ground to indicate the intrusion of man. I began to believe that this place might suit.

I walked a little bit, thinking. I had chosen Gabriel. If Garr had not bitten him, I would have eventually seduced him. But Blair... I sighed. Even with the spirit of the wolf moving so strongly within him, I was no longer sure that he belonged in the pack. He had been bonded to Jim Ellison before he took on the curse; perhaps not physically, but in the heart. He would never be wholly mine, as I knew Gabriel would, eventually. I tried to think of a way I could release him to his human lover. It didn't help that I knew less about my own condition than I had let on.

I, too, had learned most of my information from books and folk tale. If my father had lived, he might have been able to pass on to me some first hand wisdom. But he had been a made lycanthrope also, rather than a born one, like myself. He may have been even more ignorant than I.

They had finished when I returned to the cabin. "So, what can we do now?"

"Take a nap?" Gabriel yawned.

"No. You two need exercise. I want you tired out by tonight, remember?"

"We could have a swim," Blair volunteered. "The lake is just a few minutes walk."

Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know about you, kiddo, but I didn't bring any trunks."

Blair smiled. "So?"

Gabriel's eyebrows went up. "Ah."

"Race ya." Blair was off in a flash, long curls streaming behind him.

"Hey!" Gabriel was right behind, but he didn't have a chance. His legs might have been longer, but the younger man was a streak, moving through the trees. "No fair, head start! And I don't know where I'm goin'. No fair!" His only answer was laughter. Freidrik followed at a more leisurely pace, smiling at his cubs' antics.

By the time he reached the lake, both of the other men had stripped, and were in the water. In fact, Blair was in the process of getting a thorough ducking from Gabriel. But Gabriel made the mistake of turning his back on Blair once he released him, and got a wetting himself. Frederick sat on the bank and watched them frolic for some time.

When the light began to darken into the deep gold of afternoon, he summoned them from their play. It was quite awe inspiring, watching the two of them stroll naked back through the woods to the cabin. This must have been what man looked like before he started the long climb into 'civilization', Freidrik thought. Who was to say if it was, indeed, advancement?

At the cabin they dressed, but only casually. Both wore shorts. Blair put on one of his ubiqitous flannel shirts, but left it open. Gabriel was fascinated by the tiny gold hoop in his nipple, and Blair spent some time teasingly dodging his questing fingers.

There was still enough humanity left in them for them to want at least a token cooking of the steaks Frederick had brought for their lunch. Still, The meat was seared only long enough to take the chill off it. The boys devoured it while it was still dripping.

No cutlery was used. Oh, they had started out fairly civilized, with plates and knives and forks. But the steak knives were a little dull, and Gabriel was the first to lose patience. He dropped his flatware with a clatter, lifted his steak from the plate where it swam in red-brown juices, and ripped a chunk off with his teeth.

v Blair watched his obviously satisfied chewing, then looked questioningly at Frederick. His sire nodded, and Blair followed Gabriel's example. Frederick, more in control with his long experience, finished his meal in a manner approved by Emily Post.

But he enjoyed watching his children eat. Such enthusiasm. By the time they were through, both Blair and Gabriel were smeared with blood up to their wrists, their chins and mouths greasy.

Blair licked his fingers clean, while Gabriel mopped up the last of his steak's juices with a piece of bread. When he popped it into his mouth, Blair reached over, snagged his hand, and began to clean it with his tongue. Gabriel sat back, eyes half closed, watching the younger man lap away the stains. He was being groomed, a tribute to his superior rank in the pack.

"Have you had enough, cubs?" He was answered by replete groans. Each of the men had put away more than two pounds of meat.

Gabriel patted his belly. "Feel like I'm 'bout to burst."

"I haven't been this full since I won the rib eating contest at the precinct barbecue," Blair moaned. "It took me three days to recover from that."

"Believe me, you'll burn it all off tonight. That, plus supper." There were protesting sounds. "I know you don't think you can eat more, but you'll have to force down a little more just before sundown. No arguments."

"Yes, Daddy." Gabriel drawled. He slumped in his chair. "I could REEEALY use a nap."

"Gabriel, I will have Blair pinch you if you fall asleep."

He smirked. "Havin' someone else do your dirty work for ya, huh?"

"The privilege of the senior. Come outside, cubs. Perhaps the fresh air will keep you awake."

They went and sat on the porch, and Frederick began to tell them more of what they could expect that night."

"Will we remember being human?" Blair asked. He looked worried. "I mean, at all? I don't like the thought of totally losing my mind."

"You don't, cub. You become the beast, but you are not mad. Not YOU..." he corrected sadly. "If you were mad when the change took place, then you would remain so. The curse... It heightens everything, and if there is a weakness in the mind, I am afraid that it is gradually magnified. That is how it was with poor Garr. The tendency toward violence was already there, but I..." He sighed. "I could excuse myself by saying that I did not know, but that would be a lie. There was always a dangerous edge about him. That was part of his attraction."

He stared off thoughtfully into the shadows that deepened beneath the trees. "We do not have to be killers of men, my cubs. I realized this early on. If we are cautious, as we are being now, it need not happen. With Garr... I allowed myself to..."

He rubbed his eyes. "I told myself that they were deserving of death, the ones I hunted with him. They were criminals: murderers and rapists that we had met in the sewers of the city. There was a thrill to it, cubs, I will not deny it. When the beast held sway. But when I came to myself, when I was as much of a man as I ever can be..." Frederick's eyes were distant, sorrowful.

"And of course, I learned later that Garr did not limit himself to the animals in human form. He began to hunt the innocent. He even, God help me... He even took a child." Frederick looked at Gabriel. "The little girl. The one who's murder brought you to me, my angel. Though I do not know how I could live without you, I would give my life to make it so that never had happened."

Gabriel put his hand on the old werewolf's arm. "Your responsibility has to stop somewhere, Frederick. You can't take the care of the world on your shoulders, none of us can. Oh, we try. Look at me. The Schattenjaeger."

"And me," murmured Blair. "And Jim. Sentinel and Guide, protecting the tribe. But it isn't anything we can turn away from." He looked at Frederick, eyes pleading. "It isn't anything _I_ can turn away from."

Frederick caressed his hair. "I know, pup, I know. I will be very sad to lose you, but you do belong with your Jim. Eventually. But you must remain with me till you learn how to live with your new state. I did not intend for this to happen to you, but it has, and it must be dealt with. We must somehow make your lover see this. If he loves you as much as I am sure he does, we will find a way."

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 40

"Step on it, Ellison."

"Christ, Grace, I'm already over the limit. If we get a ticket, that will really screw things. There's no way I can explain why I should have special dispensation to run twenty miles over the speed limit."

"Yeah, well, moon rise is at 8:57 tonight, I checked. So haul butt or we'll catch them post-transformation, and we do NOT want that."

"We have time. It's only seven-thirty, and we'll be there in less than an hour."

"That's not enough time. I don't know about you, but I want a bigger safety margin between me and three werewolves."

"Grace, we can't even be sure that it's actually going to happen." The pretty oriental woman just stared at him. Jim sighed. "Right. I'm fooling myself." His foot eased down on the accelerator, and the speedometer needle crept up.

The miles flew by. After awhile Jim said quietly, "Miss Nakimura?"

Grace didn't miss the formal title. "Yes, Detective Ellison?"

"We need to be clear about something. No matter what happens, I'm still a cop. If you attack any of those men without what I judge to be a clear and present danger, I'll stop you." He paused. "I WILL shoot you, if that's what it takes."

*In a way, that's flattering. It means he takes me as a serious threat.* "I understand." Her breath speeded minutely. *It doesn't make a damn bit of difference, but I understand.* Jim glanced at her and, for a moment, Grace almost believed he could read her mind.

It was dusk when he turned off onto the road that would take them to the cabin. Beside him in the cab, Grace was almost vibrating with tension. *I'd tell her to stay with the truck, but I doubt she'd listen any better than Sandburg ever did.*

It was twilight when they pulled into the clearing before the cabin. Blair's battered Volvo was parked beneath the trees, and there was a light in the cabin window. The light was obscured for a moment by a shadow, which then moved off. Jim cut the engine. They'd heard them drive up, of course. There was no way they could have missed it in the quiet of the forest. He only wished he'd had time to park about a mile down the road and walk in.

He looked at Grace. "Would it do any good to tell you to stay here?"

"Not a whole hell of a lot, no."

"Thought so. Stay behind me."

They got out of the truck, and walked slowly toward the cabin. When he was still a few yards away, the door opened.

Blair's POV

"It's Jim." *Of course it's Jim. Who else would it be?* "He's got some little bitty Japanese woman with him."

"Fuck! Gracie!" Gabriel snarled, starting for the door.

Freidrik put a restraining hand on his arm. "No, Gabriel. Curb your anger, do not let the beast out before its time. These people are here because they care about you and the cub. We must not harm them, if it is at all possible."

I know that, and I'm sure Gabriel does, too. But for the last couple of hours it's been getting harder and harder to hold on to coherent thought. As moon rise approaches, I wonder at how calm Freidrik can remain. It HAS to be affecting him, too, but he remains unruffled. I suppose the centuries of experience have an effect.

"Let me talk to him. Maybe I can explain it well enough to get him to go back to the city. If I tell him... tell him that this doesn't have to change what we have." I look at Freidrik with a pleading question in my eyes.

He nods. "Try, cub. They must leave quickly. The moon will be up soon. Everyone reacts differently, and I want to be able to concentrate on helping both of you through your transitions. And you are so excited now, I fear they would not be safe. I fear that you would not simply escape into the forest." I went to the door and opened it, confronting my lover and the woman.

"Jim, wait!" I hold up my hand, and he halts. The woman moves in close behind him. She is trying to peer past me, and almost twitching with her eagerness to move past him and get to the cabin. "You shouldn't have come here."

"I had to, Chief. You know that."

His voice is raw, and my next words almost catch in my throat. "I know. But there's nothing you can do here except endanger yourself and her. You need to leave, Jim. Now."

"I can't."

"Look, I've talked to him. This, this separation, doesn't have to be forever. I can come back to you. I WILL come back to you. But it has to be after I get this figured out. After I learn what I can from Freidrik about controlling the beast as much as I can. If you'll go back to the city, I'll come to you when the full moon is past, and we can talk. All of us."

Grace steps around Jim. Her beautiful face is hard. "What about Gabriel?"

I fidget. What can I tell her? Gabriel is never going back to his old life, not entirely. She scares me, but I don't want to hurt her. "I don't know. I can't speak for him."

"You don't have too, kid."

Gabriel's POV

I push past Sandburg, to glare at Grace. "This is no place for you, Gracie. Go back to the city. Go back to Rittersberg, go back to N' Orleans. I don't care. You can have the shop, take it with my blessing. Just leave me alone. I have a new life now."

"No, Gabriel. This is no kind of life. Not enthralled to that... thing."

"Shut up, woman!" My voice is raspy, a snarl. Sandburg is looking at me apprehensively. I notice that he's begun to scratch restlessly at his arm. "This is what I want, Grace. I'm happy. I'm happy as long as you QUIT INTERFERRING!"

There is a sudden crawling sensation over my entire body. "Fuck! Freidrik, somthin' is wrong!"

Freidrik hurries out, pulling me around to look into my eyes. "Gross Gott," he whispers. "Oh, my poor cub! It's started."

Grace is frowning in denial. "The moon doesn't rise till 8:57! We have almost a half hour."

Freidrik laughs bitterly. "Woman, do you think the beast cares for your time tables and astronomic calibrations? It comes when it will come."

He grabs Blair's chin, looking into his eyes, also. "Oh, yes," he whispers. "You see?"

I look. The smoky blue of Sandburg's eyes is fading into yellow. As I watch, he rips off his shirt, whimpering. He always had a healthy crop of body hair. Now it has spread. As I watch, it thickens and spreads, flowing up over his shoulders, down his arms.

He looks at Ellison, and his voice is as thick as mine when he speaks, and it is tinged with desperation. "Jim! Go!"

"Chief?" The voice is pained, bewildered.

"Ellison!" Grace's tone is like a whip crack. "Shoot the bastard! Shoot him, before it's too late!"

My yell of anger rises into a howl as the pain hits me, and my bones begin to bend into impossible shapes.

Jim's POV

I draw my gun when Gabriel screams at Grace. I haven't heard anything in my life more menacing than that sound. It's a mingling of human and animal rage.

Von Glower grabs at his lover as he tries to lunge down off the porch, tries to reach the woman who's asking for Freidrik's death. Gabriel twists in his arms. Oh, God, the way he twists. Things are bending like God never intended for them to bend. And Blair...

Blair has dropped down into a crouch, and he's ripping at his pants, jerking them off, falling on his side. Naked, he curls into a ball, shaking and whimpering. Freidrik is trying to speak to him soothingly, but he's also trying to keep his hold on Gabriel.

"Grace!" I yell. "Get out of here! Can't you see you're driving him crazy?" She hesitates, then runs. But not back to the truck, damn her! She runs off into the woods. What in God's name is she thinking of?

But her absence calms Gabriel a little. He subsides into soft growls, sinking into a pained whine. His knees buckle *No, they're bending the wrong way, like a wolf's, oh God.* and he sinks to the ground also, Freidrik still holding him.

Freidrik looks at me and hisses, "Ellison! If you care at all for Blair, take that bitch and go! She's the only real danger here. If you leave me to my cubs, I can see them through this. But go! They'll begin to howl soon, and I won't be able to hold back my own transformation."

Blair is shaking his head wildly, his hair flying. He is scratching at the porch, and I hear the splinters tearing up. "I can't leave him like this."

"You MUST!"

Blair looks up at me. Oh, God, his FACE! The brow is lowering, the jaw beginning to jut, and the hair almost obscures it. But somehow... he's still Blair. And he's still beautiful to me.

Von Glower's POV

"For the love of God, Ellison! Put away the gun. If he think's you're threatening me, he'll kill you!" I have to make him understand.

He's staring at his partner, stunned. Blair is more than halfway through the transformation by now, more animal than man. He's going to be as beautiful as I thought. His hair is fading to a lovely, silvery grey. I can see that my Gabriel is going to be brown-red, darker than his hair as a man.

He doesn't put away the gun, but it is lowered, pointing harmlessly at the ground, and I feel a bit of relief. Maybe I can get us all through this without any bloodshed.

"Fuck," he whispers quietly. "I... I didn't really think..."

"It's true, Ellison. All of it." Blair twitches and quivers, a bushy tail unfurling. He's almost there now. Gabriel is almost there, also. The heavy scent of my betas is almost enough, with the moon, to trigger my own change, despite my fight against it. When they howl, I will be helpless to resist. I must speak quickly.

"You see how it is. Can you accept this, Ellison? Can you accept HIM? Can you love him, knowing that is what he carries inside him at all times?"

The silver wolf crouches on the porch, staring at the detective with glowing yellow eyes. His dark lips wrinkle back from ivory fangs, and a long pink tongue laps at his chops. *Oh, god, please. The man has a gun. Let my beta be safe. Let Ellison understand.*

The gun does not rise again. Ellison slowly and hesitantly extends a hand. His voice is soft. "Blair?" The sound the wolf makes begins as a growl, but melts into a wistful, questioning whine. "Baby, come here." The wolf-Blair looks at me, and I nod. He slinks down the few steps, and crouches again, staring at his partner.

Jim reholsters his gun, and squats. Again he holds out his hand. "Please, Blair." The wolf inches toward him, scarcely lifting its body from the ground. When it reaches Ellison, it rolls on its back, offering its throat and belly.

"Sweetheart," Jim croons. He strokes the furred belly, scratching at the domed chest between large, waving paws. "It's all right, Blair. This doesn't change how I feel. You'll be better now. We'll work this out, somehow."

The young wolf squirms in joy, craning its neck to lick at Ellison's hand. Ellison continues to caress it, whispering.

I smile down at Gabriel, in my arms. The green gaze he returns is much the same, but now it looks out from a lupine face. "They are happy together, pet. You must be happy for Blair. Do not grieve for losing him. He will still be with us for a little time." Large, pointed ears flicker, then Gabriel turns to look into the forest, ears lying back flat against his head.

"No, liebling. Forget her. She is not worthy of your distress."

I hear a whimper that carries a familiar, longing note. Ellison is scratching low on Blair's belly, and the wolf is becoming frantic. I don't think the Cascade detective knows what he is doing. Perhaps he doesn't realize how strong the physical desires run in The Beast, and how little they are restrained.

His fingers pass over the furry sheath that houses The Beast's cock, and suddenly the tiny pink tip slides out, glistening. Ellison freezes, staring down at it. Blair whines, and Jim looks into his yellow eyes. Tentatively, he strokes the loose, furry skin, feeling the roll of the firming cylinder inside. Another whine, and another inch of slick, deep pink flesh slides out. "Christ, Chief, I don't know..."

The wolf rolls to his feet suddenly, and shoves its large, rough head into Ellison's crotch. It begins lapping steadily at the denim covered mound of Ellison's cock. Surprised, stunned, Ellison drops onto his ass, legs spreading. Whether he did it consciously or not, Blair has freer access, and begins biting at the denim, oh, so gently. Any other man in that situation would be pissing his pants by now, sure that the wolf was preparing to rip off his private parts. I can see, though, that Ellison is getting hard.

"Ellison?" I call. He looks up quickly, face flaming. He had forgotten us. "Go on. It will help calm him. He needs you, and you need him."

"But I can't..."

"What the moon sees, it never tells. Besides," I hug Gabriel, who curls a long, wet tongue around my ear. "Am I one to judge?"

"But... I..." The wolf cannot manage buttons, but it has somehow taken the zipper tab between its teeth, and it tugging on it. "Stop it, Chief. You'll tear them, and I don't have any more." The wolf sits back, ducking its head. "It's all right. Just let me..." He undoes his belt, opening his pants fully, scooting them down to his knees, along with his underwear.

The wolf moves forward immediately, and Jim yelps as his cold, wet nose bumps the heated skin of his half-aroused cock. There is a grumble of apology as Blair begins to lick the offended flesh.

Blair's POV

*sweet salt good good good* I nuzzle into the heat and scent. My alpha is behind me, holding my packmate, but somehow this is my alpha, too. MY alpha, mine only.

My alpha is strong, and beautiful. I want my alpha to claim me, to show his ownership, his dominion. He seems reluctant, but I will convince him.

I concentrate on the source of the musk. His cock is naked, no sheath, like mine. But mine is not sheathed now. It quivers against my belly, long and hard with need. I lick his sex, over and over. He moans as my tongue wraps around his shaft. I see moonlight glint on the liquid that oozes from its tip, and I lick at that eagerly, gathering the heady taste and hearing his breathing become harsh.

I move down and turn my attention to his testicles. These are furred also, only a bit more thinly than mine. They are heavy, luscious. When I scrape them gently with my teeth, he twitches, moaning, but does not try to push me away. He trusts me.

Farther down, the smell is different, but no less intriguing. I push, and he rolls back on his spine, lifting his legs a little so that I can nose down. I find the crease of his buttocks, and begin exploring again.

He is panting hoarsely. "Oh, Christ, Blair. What are you doing?" But he reaches down and spreads the muscular cheeks, opening the shallow valley. I do not hesitate. I run my tongue along the offered crack again and again, leaving him wet with my saliva. Then I find the puckered opening that is so rich in scent to my sensitive nose. I concentrate there, licking steadily.

*in inside want in* I press harder, more determinedly, and wiggle my tongue past the muscular little ring, just a bit. The effect is strong. His hips buck, his erect prick slapping at his belly, leaving streaks of precome. I do it again, working almost the entire length of my tongue up into him, and he throws his head back, making a keening sound.

"Please, Chief."

I want to mount him, but I don't quite dare. He hasn't taken the submissive pose. Instead I pull back out and again turn my ministrations on his leaking cock. At the same time, I straddle his bare leg, gripping it with my forepaw, and begin to hump against him.

With one hand, he reaches down to grip his own balls, rolling them firmly in his fingers. With the other, he reaches under me, and finds my stiff, naked prick. I hump against his palm hard, stabbing my tapered cock into his gentle grip as I lap and lap and lap.

He cries out, his seed bursting from him in hot, white gouts that I devour with joy. Then my own climax hits me. My semen, thinner and hotter than his, jets from me, and I throw back my head, howling in triumphant completion. Gabriel echos my howl, and there is a guttural cry from Von Glower.

As the swelling of my now replete cock begins to subside, I turn to see that my sire's own transformation has begun. He cannot resist the call of his own kind.

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Part 41

Grace's POV

What the hell is it about werewolves, anyway? Is it only a guy thing? Because I don't feel attracted to von Glower at all. Of course, I've known what he is since the first time I saw him, and he's been trying to get my Gabriel all that time, so I suppose I'm prejudice.

But Gabriel has gone to him so completely, and now Ellison and that Blair character. I know, I know they were together BEFORE this happened, but honestly. If you see your lover sprout fur, fangs, and a tail, shouldn't it put a cramp in your sex life? I mean, he made a cute wolf, but he's a WOLF, for God's sake! And Ellison let him...

Well, there's not discreet way to put it, he basically got a blow job from the beast. I couldn't believe my eyes. Guys are usually so CAREFUL about having sharp objects around their equipment. God, just let one of them get pinched in a zipper and listen to the screams and whines. And Ellison had fangs RIGHT THERE.

Yes, I know. I shouldn't have watched. It's not like they were expecting privacy, is it? They were right out there in front of the cabin, in front of Gabe and von Glower. But I didn't want to get too far from the cabin. I had to be close enough to keep tabs on what was going on while staying out of Gabriel's range of sight.

His reaction hurt, and it scared me. He hasn't been reacting like that to anyone except me, and I can't help but take it personally. I shouldn't blame him. I want the man he loves dead, even though I know that won't get him back. Even though I never really had him.

I know by now that, as to the mission to bring Gabriel back to some semblence of our old life together, I'm doomed to failure. Even if I succeed in killing von Glower and releasing Gabriel from his curse, he'll never forgive me.

But I'm not going to stop, I've come too far on this. My hatred runs too deep. I've stopped telling myself that I'm doing this for Gabriel. I lost that illusion when he screamed at me on the porch, and von Glower held him back from attacking me. My enemy, protecting me. I want to kill him more than ever.

It wasn't easy, seeing Gabriel transform. I'd seen glimpses of the beast in his eyes, especially back in Rittersburg when he attacked me. There was such heat and savagery in his gaze then, but it's different now. Yes, he's the beast, but his eyes hold... tenderness. That is because he is looking at the great black wolf that, a few moments ago, was von Glower.

Ellison has pulled his pants back up, and that big ass wolf that is his partner when it's in human form has crawled across his thighs like it's some kind of lap dog. He's scratching it's neck, whispering to it, and it has it's yellow-green eyes squeezed half shut in contentment. On the steps, Gabriel is licking von Glower's muzzle. They all look so... DOMESTIC. Pretty fucking ironic, considering that three of them are wolves.

Then Gabriel whines, and moves in front of the big alpha wolf. He crouches low, lifting his tail and shifting his back legs, then looks back and whines again. My gorge rises as I realize that he's inviting von Glower to mount him.

The black wolf watches him, head cocked. Then it gets up and walks to him, long snout nudging at the base of Gabriel's fine, plumey tail. He starts to lick slowly, long pink tongue curling over the fur and small, bare pucker of his packmate's anus. Can wolves moan? That's the sort of sound Gabriel makes.

There is a faint glint under his belly, and I realize it is the moonlight glistening on the tip of his penis. Von Glower is growling, and his narrow hips move in little jerks as he sniffs and licks. Suddenly he rises up on his hind legs, straddling Gabriel's back, hugging him with his forepaws. He moves forward, hips hunching.

"NO!" I didn't intend to scream, but I find myself doing a lot of things I never intended to do, now that I've left New Orleans. In any case, my shout accomplishes what I wanted. The black wolf drops back down before he can penetrate the brown one, and they both turn glowing eyes to where I am hidden in the trees.

I step out where they can see me. "Freidrik! Leave him alone, you bastard! If you want him, come fight for him!"

"Grace!" Jim is trying to get up, but Blair is trying to get up, also, and they've somehow managed to tangle themselves. "Grace, leave or get in the truck. He'll kill you!"

He didn't say THEY will kill you, and I know he isn't talking about von Glower. Because the thing this was... is... Gabriel is stalking down the steps on stiff legs, snarling. The great black wolf follows, and moves between him and me. Gabriel moves to go around him, and Freidrik shifts, always keeping his body between his beta and where I stand. But Gabriel keeps trying, feinting right and left, and gradually Freidrik is baked up toward where I stand.

Ellison gets to his feet finally, and starts toward us. "Grace, get in the truck!"

"Fuck you! He's got you charmed, just like everyone else. He's a monster, Ellison, and he has to die."

Gabriel howls, and leaps, springing completely over von Glower. I feel as if someone has hit me with a sledgehammer as his paws thump into my chest, and I'm thrown backward onto the ground. Once again, Gabriel is on top of me, but this time it isn't lust that I see in those green, green eyes--it's death.

I can feel his hot breath, strong with the meat he's eaten today, and I feel hot saliva drip on my throat. Black lips wrinkle back from ivory fangs, as he pulls his head back a little, preparing to lunge forward and rip.

I'm going to die.

Then suddenly the weight is off my chest, and I can breathe again. There is a horrible snarling and growling, and the sound of bodies tumbling in the grass. I sit up to see Gabriel and von Glower locked together, rolling in the grass. The alpha is disciplining his rebellious beta, administering bruising bites to legs and flanks, but drawing no blood.

The son of a bitch is DEFENDING me!

My purse has fallen beside me, and I crawl to it, reaching inside. When I pull out the Schattenjaeger dagger, I hear Ellison yell something, but I'm too intent to understand. I lunge toward the struggling animals and sink the blade deep into von Glower's back, almost to the hilt.

Beasts cannot speak, but they can scream, and all three of the wolves scream. It is more horrible than anything I have ever heard, because human sound mingles with the animal. Von Glower staggers away from Gabriel, who leaps up, forgetting me, and comes after him, whining anxiously.

Ellison is running over, and his voice is horrified as he says, "Oh, FUCK! What have you done, Grace?"

"I've killed the monster," I gasp, as the black wolf's legs give way, and he falls. A great shudder runs through the big body as the brown wolf noses it, licking at the dagger jutting from its back.

But then both Gabriel and Blair are screaming again, and they're transforming. Fur retracts, as do fangs. Bones creak and bend, becoming plastic. I don't care how damn good CGI ever gets, they'll never be able to reproduce that sort of transformation. Von Glower goes through the transformation, too, but silently, and still.

"You see? He's dead. They're coming back. It's over."

"LIke hell it is." Ellison falls on his knees beside the still body of the ancient werewolf, and examines the wound. "There isn't much blood." He pulls it out slowly, carefully, watching to see that there isn't a sudden heamorage. He checks von Glower, fingers pressing his carotid. "Dammit! No pulse, no breathing. The stab must have shocked them into stopping."

I watch in astonishment as he folds his hands together, places them on the man's bare chest, and pushes sharply several times. Then he bends, fits his mouth over von Glower's, and blows breath into his lungs. He repeats it, again, and agian. The asshole is giving him CPR!

"No! You can't, stop it!" I dive at him, raking at his face. I'm grabbed from behind and slammed back against a tree. A very naked and very angry Blair Sandburg has me by the shoulders.

"STOP IT! You've killed him once, but that doesn't necessarily mean a damn thing, lady. I'm living proof of that. You just stay away and let Jim try. He's good at this calling back the dead business."

I see Gabriel stand up, a man once again. The look on his face tears at my heart. I have never seen such grief, and suddenly I realize what I have done to him. I have killed a part of him, and the one person in his life he has truly loved. All the fight goes out of me.

When he looks at me, the rage is gone, and there is only sorrow, but I know that won't last long. As soon as the first overwhelming crush eases, he will want to kill me more than ever, and I am almost tempted to let him.

But it seems that my death is to be delayed indefinitely. Ellison calls to him. "Knight! Knight, come help me."

"I don't know how," he says helplessly.

"I'll do the compressions, you just breathe into his mouth. Anyone can do that. Just make a tight seal and breath in gently, just enough to make his chest rise. Hurry, we can't pause."

Gabriel drops to his knees beside his fallen lover, and bends over him. I can see tears fall on the still, white face as Gabe fits his mouth over von Glower's and breathes the first puff of oxygen into the empty lungs.

Sandburg has gone to the truck and gotten Ellison's cell phone, and I hear him talking to someone, giving them directions, telling them that there's been a stabbing, that CPR is being performed, that they need to haul ass...

Blair comes and relieves Gabriel, telling him, "Talk to him, man. Call him back. Sometimes..." He looks at his lover, who is still pumping steadily, forcing von Glower's heart to push blood through his body. "sometimes it works."

As the two policemen detectives work, Gabriel takes one limp hand and pulls it to his face. "Freidrik? Freidrik, baby, don't leave me like this. Please. Oh, man, you gotta come back. I can't stand it without you, man. There's nothing without you."

I go to him, touching his shoulder timidly. I want to apologize for hurting him. Oh, not for killing von Glower, I'm glad he's dead. But I never wanted Gabriel to suffer.

His head jerks toward me, and he looks at me with cold eyes, then turns back to Freidrik. "There's nothing without you, lover. Nothing and no one. Don't leave me."

And that's my answer. Von Glower isn't the only one who's dead here. As far as Gabriel is concerned, I am, too.

I can hear the thin wail of sirens approaching. How long have they been working on him? They might as well give up...

There is a gasp, and Sandburg whoops. Another gasp. "That's IT, man, that's IT! Suck it down, Freidrik, you can do it. Help is almost here."

Ellison has paused in his compressions, and is holding his ear to the other man's barely moving chest. He doesn't smile, but some of the tension eases out of his face. "He's got a pulse, a strong one. I think we may have done it. Blair, get your pants, and Gabriel's. This shit is going to be hard enough to cover up without you two being bare-assed when the ambulance arrives.

Sandburg shoves past me, and I'm so numb that I don't react. Not dead? How can he not be dead? "I killed him."

I don't realize I've spoken out loud till Ellison responds. "Hell Grace, that might have worked back when he was born, but in this day and age? You should know better. He's going to be sick for awhile, but maybe not all that long. I understand they have hellacious healing powers."

"But the curse is broken." I point toward the sky. The moon rides high, full and silvery.

Ellison looks to where Gabriel has sat, drawing von Glower's head into his lap. "I guess so. Technically, he died, so the curse was lifted. If it hadn't been, I think they'd still be in beast form. So you lifted the curse, but you almost committed murder."

"He's a monster."

Ellison's voice is cold. "Who's the monster? He was protecting you, and you literally stabbed him in the back."

"My angel?" The voice is hoarse, whispering. Freidrik has opened his eyes. They are painded, and bewildered, but clear. "Gabriel... I..."

"Hush, baby." Gabriel leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Be easy. The ambulance is almost here. You're gonna be all right."

"I thought it would be peaceful, after all these years. But all I could think of was that I had left you so alone." He tried to reach up, but he was too feeble, and his hand fell back. Gabriel took it gently, and held it to his own cheek. "I came back for you, my angel."

"I know."

"I couldn't leave you. I'll never leave you. But you..." His fingers flexed on Gabriel's cheek, and he smiled faintly. "Nothing but a bit of five o'clock shadow, my love. The taint is gone."

"Yes."

"Ah, well. God willing, we will have a few years together."

"More than that, Freidrik." Gabriel held his wrist to Freidrik's mouth.

"Gabriel, what are you DOING?" I shrieked. I grabbed at him, but strong arms took hold of me, and Ellison dragged me back. "Stop, let me go! Don't you see what he's doing?"

"I do. And you're going to stay the fuck out of this, Grace."

Von Glower gazed up at Gabriel. "Angel?" His voice was faint, questioning.

"Do it, Freidrik." Gabe said quietly. "I want you to. I need you to."

"But my love..."

"Damn it, Freidrik, DO IT!"

Von Glower studied Gabriel closely. Then he smiled slowly, and there was a look of infinite love and tenderness on his face as he sank his teeth into Gabriel's wrist, drawing blood and a gasp that almost sounded like a man experiencing the ultimate in physical pleasure...

Verliebt Sein In der Junge Wolf
Epilogue

A month later

Jim awakes to find that he is alone in bed. It isn't happening as often as it used to, not since Blair started talking to the therapist. He can't tell her everything, or he'd end up on a locked ward, medicated and being observed by psych students, but it helps. He talks to Jim about the rest of it, and that helps Jim too, knowing what Blair went throught. He isn't as worried as he was at first.

Jim reaches out with his senses and locates Blair easily. His Guide is out on the balcony again, watching the night. Specifically, watching the moon. Last night was the first full moon since the incident up in the woods. They had discussed things together, and Jim had prepared a storage room in the basement, putting two strong deadbolts on the outside of the door, and providing bedding inside. At sunset Blair, pale faced, had kissed him and gone inside, and Jim had locked the door. Then he had settled down in his sleeping back in front of the door and waited. He hadn't slept all night, listening to the soft sound of Blair's tread as he nervously paced the room. All his senses had been focused on that little room behind the secured door, but aside from elevated heart rate and breathing, there was nothing unusual: nothing that he hadn't sensed on a thousand nights. The curse was gone.

Jim had known that, deep in his heart. The WRONGNESS had been gone. Blair was still troubled, probably would be for a long time, but he was not WRONG any more. There was no lingering scent of the beast about him. There had been with Gabriel. When he had shook hands with the roguish southerner at the airport before he left once again for Germany, there had been the feral scent he had come to associate with lycanthropy about him. Jim knew that he was going to be looking for that smell, consciously and uncosciously for the rest of his life.

The smell also came from Freidrik von Glower, who leaned heavily on Gabriel's arm. He was pale and drawn, but it was obvious that he was on his way to recovery. The doctors had been astounded. In a week he'd healed what they would have expected would involve at leat a month of convalescence.

Blair had hugged the elder werewolf, gently in deferense to his still tender back. Freidrik had stroked his hair gently, and smiled at him as he pulled away. "You were a magnificent wolf, cub, but I'm glad you are back with you friend. This life is not an easy one, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone who did not choose it." He reached out, without looking, his hand finding Gabriel's.

His younger lover slipped a strong arm around Freidrik, supporting him carefully, his expression tender. They were returning to Germany. Gabriel would stay at von Glower's house while he regained his strength, then they would see what would come next. Gabriel was talking about Freidrik joining him at Schloss von Ritter, working with him in his endeavors as a Schattenjaeger. He had been immersed in thte darkness for a time, and could not abandon the calling that was bred into his blood. Freidrik seemed doubtful, but Jim had the feeling that he would be won over. Gabriel could be very persuasive when he wanted to.

And he felt that now, with Freidrik to help him learn to control his beast, he could turn the supernatural strength he had gained to fighting the true evil lurked in the darker corners of the world. He had been touched by it, and it had made him more aware, and more determined to fight. It would be good for Freidrik, too. He had done dark things in the past centuries, things he regretted bitterly. This was a chance to pay back a little to the greater good. There was no telling how long he would live, and he wanted to do his penance here on Earth as best he could.

Jim got out of bed and went to the railing, looking down into the the living room. The sliding door to the balcony was open. The faint breeze that blew through it brought him Blair's scent. Jim closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it. There was nothing but the clean smell of soap and the herbal conditioner he'd used on his hair. Those, and his own warm, musky scent. There was no tang of fear, or sorrow, no stink of madness or rank odor of the beast.

Jim pulled on sweat pants over his boxers and went down the stairs. He looked through the door and saw Blair in his ratty old flannel bathrobe *God, Blair and flannel,* he thought affectionately. *He should buy stock.*, leaning with his hands on the rail. His head was tipped back, hair trickling almost down to the middle of his back, his face turned up to the full silver disk of the moon.

Jim came up behing him, slipping his arms around his waist, moving to press against his body. Blair, relaxed and unsurprised, took his hands off the rail and laid them on Jim's arms where then croseed over his belly, leaning back against him. "Whatcha thinking, Chief?"

"It's not the same anymore."

"It doesn't affect you now."

"That's not exactly what I mean. Sure, it's not the same as when I had the beast, but it's not the same as it was before... before it all started. That night in Germany I was walking along and looking at a moon just like that. I can hardly remember what I was thinking or feeling then."

Jim nuzzled his ear. "You were probably thinking what a shit I was."

Blair smiled, "Oh. Yeah! That's it. Jim's a shit."

Jim snorted in his ear, causing him to laugh and shiver. "Well, you don't have to agree quite so enthusiastically."

"I was thinking that I was going to have to go back to that inn and lay next to you all night long without touching you. I was thinking that maybe it might be a little easier if I had just checked directly into purgatory."

Jim's arms tightened. "I want you to know, Chief, so you 'll be sure. This didn't happen just because you were hurt, or endangered." Blair's head dropped. "You were worried about that, weren't you?"

Blair's voice was soft. "I don't question what we have, Jim. I'm just grateful for it."

"But it's worried you."

Blair makes an indecisive noise, then says reluctantly. "The timing..."

"Was unfortunate. But I knew I loved you before it happened, Blair. I was on my way back from that bar to make love to you."

Blair stiffened slightly. He turned his head, looking back at Jim, his eyes huge and serious. "Yow were?"

Jim nods. "I was going to try, anyway." He kisses Blair softly. "I had alternate plans all worked out in case you got mad at me. I was going to be so drunk I didn't know what I was doing."

Blair frowned. "That's kind of a lame ass excuse, Jim."

"I know that, Chief. Are you aware of any notable success I've ever had in the romance department, aside from you?"

Blair smiled. "No. But you made up for it with me."

"Flatterer."

"Hey, anything that gets me laid."

Jim laughed, but it turned into a low growl as Blair ground his rump back against Jim's crotch. "You're asking for it."

"I'm BEGGING for it."

Jim slid his hands down over Blair's hips, kissing his throat. "Do you want to top?" Bottoming still didn't come completely easily to Jim, but he enjoyed it, now that he'd tried it a few times with Blair. At first he'd done it to give his lover a much needed sense of control, but he'd found that there was something very freeing about turning over all the decisions to his Blair. He didn't want to do it exclusively, he still enjoyed fucking Blair too much. But it made a nice change.

"Not tonight," Blair murmured. He reached back and, stretching, managed to cup Jim's firm ass, squeezing. "I want my alpha to show me who I belong to."

Jim sighed, rubbing his face in Blair's curls. "Come inside."

"No. Here." He punctuated the words with squeezes.

Jim's heart sped up a little, and his cock, already half-hard, started thumping toward a full erection. "Chief, we can't. Not right out here in the open. Someone might see us."

"It's three-thirty, Jim. No one is out at this time of the morning. And if they are, hell. Their job is so shitty they deserve a little show. Besides, with the robe, we don't really have to SHOW anything."

"You're a pervert, you know that."

Blair wiggled, crooning, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but a good rod makes me scream."

Jim laughed again. "I'll have to go get a condom." Blair reached in his pocket and handed Jim a tiny foil packet. "I'll be damned. I still need to go get the lube."

"No ya don't." Blair took Jim's hand and pulled it up under his robe, guiding it to the crease of his ass. Taking the hint, Jim gently pushed the cheeks apart and probed carefully.

His eyes widened when he encountered the slickness. "Blair..."

"I prepared myself in the bathroom before I came out here."

"Why you... Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I just know my Sentinel." His hand was tugging at the waistband of Jim's sweatpants. "C'mon stud."

First Jim looked up and down the street, vision at maximum accuity, hearing fine tuned. Nothing except for an alley cat foraging almost a block away. "Oh, hell." He shoved his sweats and boxers down to his knees and lifted the tail of Blair's robe, moving up behind him, them paused. "Come over here and lean against the wall."

"Aw, Jim, I wanna stay here and look at the moon."

Jim was rolling the rubber down over his erection. "You can do that from over by the wall. If I'm going to fuck you out under God's glorious sky, I don't want to have to worry about fucking you over the damn rail."

Blair chortled as they shuffled together back closer to the apartment. "Intend to get that passionate, do ya?"

"You're going to be lucky if I don't fuck you through the wall, Sandburg."

"Big talk..." He had braced his forearms against the wall, and he gasped suddenly as Jim jerked his robe up again and, in almost one motion, spread his cheeks and rammed into his already greased hole. "Oh, damn!"

Sunk deep inside him, Jim paused. "Okay, Chief?"

Blair's answer was a backward hump. "Fan-tastic. Fuck me, Big Guy."

Jim snarled softly and began to drive in and out of his lover's snug channel. The cool wind ghosting across his bare, humping ass was in direct counterpoint to he moist heat engulfing his cock. He knew now that Blair needed this sometimes. He needed to be mastered, and lose himself in the sensations. Jim no longer agonized over whether or not he was using Blair when he did this. The young man had made his enjoyment abundantly clear, as he was doing now.

Blair moaned and writhed, tilting his pelvis so that Jim's cock would scrape over his prostate on each thrust. Soon he was slamming his hips back to meet each thrust, moving as strongly as the man who was plowing into him, matching his fervor. When Jim fumbled for his prick, he pushed his hand away. "I'll do it. Use those big hands to jerk me tighter when you stick it in me." He was going to have bruises on his hips from Jim's grip, but he'd prize every one of them.

He kept one arm braced to keep his face from smashing into the wall and grabbed at his wavering prick with the other. It took him three tries before he managed to get a grip on it, it was bobbing so wildly with the force of Jim's lunges. He finally did, though, and started to masturbate roughly. It wasn't going to take much, and he wanted Jim to come quickly, too. Then they could go to bed and, in an hour or so, have one of the nice, long, slow screws the so often enjoyed, maybe with Jim on the bottom this time.

Jim lost it when Blair started chanting, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Over and over, like a fierce form of one of his mantras. Blair knew he was coming when he shortened his strokes, giving him little, forceful jabs that almost lifted him onto his toes. The battering of his prostate did it for him and he cried out Jim's name, his spunk splashing the wall in front of him. Jim howled in response to the strong, pulsing clench of Blair's ass, and shot his load. The latex caught and held it, but Blair felt the heated throb deep in his core, and it coaxed the last few dribbles of come from his tight balls.

When it was over Blair leaned panting against the wall, and Jim leant panting against Blair. He stroked his Guide's heaving back and sides, murmuring nonsense words of love and sated lust. Blair listened, filled with a peace that he hadn't known too many times in his life, but was experiencing more and more these days.

He turned in Jim's arms and kissed him, then just held him, his head on the broad, solid shoulder, feeling so damn warm and safe. His eyes slid up, and fixed on the moon, looking down at him as he held his lover. The moon, which had once been his mistress, and Jim couldn't understand until he explained later why he whispered, "Jealous?"

Forty years later

"Gramma Gracie, c'mon. It'll be fun!"

Grace Tomosaku smiled at her youngest grandaughter. Lacey had only turned eighteen a month ago, and was eager to enjoy her new status as an official 'adult'. "Lacey, you don't want an old lady like me with you when you go down to Bourbon Street. Go on with your young man."

"No, Gramma, please! Mardi Gras won't be nearly as much fun without you. Just come watch the parade, you don't have to stay out late."

"You know I usually keep the shop open late during Mardi Gras. Sometimes we get some good customers who wander in just looking for some peace and quiet, and end up buying."

"Oh, pooh! You don't NEED to. You're doing well enough."

That was true. Her husband had retired with a very nice package from his engineering firm, and she had a nice little income of her own from her research and consulting jobs. But... Well, the St. George Bookstore was special. Always had been, always would be.

Grace had gone back to her parent's home after the debacle in the woods, letting them believe that she'd finally become disgusted with her low-level, low-paying job and decided to finish her degree. They were ecstatic. Two nights after she'd returned home, Ronald Tomosaku had come home with her Dad for dinner and to 'discuss business'. Right. Yeah. About as subtle as a twelve-pound sledgehammer. But he was nice, and pleasant looking, and NORMAL. Oh, so normal. Very normal. As she'd learned during the years of their subsequent marriage, almost excruciatingly normal.

Gabriel had meant what he'd said when he told her to take the shop, he didn't want it any more. The deed to the place, and all the other paperwork, had arrived in the mail one day. There had been a phone call from a lawyer informing her that the deal was good only so long as she never tried to contact Mr. Gabriel Knight or Baron Freidrik von Glower.

Grace was tempted for about a half second to rip up the deed in a grand gesture of contempt. But she didn't. If nothing else, Grace was a practicle girl. She found a good manager for the store, and the money it brought in took her comfortably through college.

She married Ronald, got her degree, became a respected researcher, contributing to many important books and becoming much sought after as a consultant for museum exhibits and such things as period movies. She had babies: two boys and a girl. They grew up and had babies. She had eight grandchildren now, ranging in age from Lacey at eighteen to Lewis at twenty-three.

Grace had retired two years before, and devoted herself full time to running the St. George Bookstore. It was still in the same place, and still much the same. Her husband, and then her children had tried to persuade her to tear it down and put up a more modern building, or at least rennovate, but all she would agree to was minor redecorating.

And she told them that she kept the small apartment in the back in case she had to work over late and just didn't feel like going home for a few hours sleep. They didn't know that she'd sometimes go into the back room and just sit on the bed, or at the desk, occasionally rubbing an ancient T-shirt between her hands, or squeezing out a dab of hair styling gel from an almost empty tube long abandonned in a medicine chest.

"Please, Gramma." Lacey brought out the ultimate weapon. Her bottom lip quivered. "Mom said I can't go without a 'responsible adult' with me."

Grace smiled indulgently. "Oh, all right. Let me get my coat."

The weather was clear, but cold, and she wrapped up tight. Lacey's latest young man was waiting out on the sidewalk, and they whispered and giggled together as Grace locked up the store. Seeing that the children were involved with each other, Grace quickly checked out her reflection in the front window. Not bad for a broad on Social Security, she thought. The hair was still thick and healthy, even if it was iron grey. She'd given up trying to dye it. It tended to end up looking like a Halloween fright wig. There weren't many lines, even it they WERE a little deep. Whe wished she had more around her eyes from laughing, and fewer on her forehead and bracketting her mouth from frowning. And the body... She shook her head. She'd managed to avoid most of the chunkiness women her age tended toward, but the bosom and butt only stayed in place thanks to Maidenform these days. Oh, well. No one stayed young forever, and she didn't look bad for someone with grandkids in the double diget age range.

She glanced up at the sky, noting the quarter moon hanging almost overhead. It was surprisingly bright for such a small moon. They made their way to Bourbon Street. The crowd got thicker and noisier and roudier the farther in they went. Most of them weren't interested in giving way for the safe passage of an elderly lady and a teen-age girl, but Lacey's young man was a junior fullback at Rice University, and was very adept at clearing paths. He got them right up to the curb just after the parade had begun.

She enjoyed the parade. The krewes had outdone themselves once again. The theme for this year was 'Eternity', and the floats were elaborate, fantastic, phantasmagorical. The men and women riding them were dressed in elaborate concoctions of satin, net, velvet, sequins, spangles, and beads. Lots and lots of beads. They tossed handfuls of candy and strings of beads to the noisy, begging crowds. Grown men and women shoved and snatched for the trinkets and goodies.

Lacey's beaux snagged necklaces for them both, and managed to scare a group of teenagers away from a handful of foil wrapped chocolate coins, which he presented to Grace with a courtly bow. She didn't eat sweets much anymore, not for years, since her mother had become diabetic, but she figured she could treat herself tonight.

Unwrapping one of the coins, she nibbled, letting the sweet taste spread through her mouth as she looked at the crowd around her.

It was the leather that caught her attention. The arm that thrust out of the crowd a few yards down the curb to snatch a strand of neon green plastic beads was clad in brown leather. Grace froze, eyes locking on that arm, remembering another brown leather jacket, remembering scolding the owner for wearing it in ridiculously hot weather, simply because he knew he looked good in it.

"No." Grace whispered.

Another float was passing, and another shower of beads flew toward the crowd. Again the arm snaked out, easily visible in a waving sea of limbs, and this time it caught a lurid purple strand. Grace heard a hearty laugh rising over the babble of the crowd, a familiar laugh. Candy pattered to the pavement, and most of the crowd stooped to grope for it. Only a few people remained standing.

They were standing less than a quarter of a block away. The shorter man, his red-gold hair flowing to his shoulders, was draping the beads around the neck of his taller companion. The dark haired man, dressed in rich tweeds, laughed, and leaned down to press a kiss to the generous, smiling mouth of his companion. The tall man with the ice blue eyes smiled fondly at his companion, caressing his cheek in a gesture so tender that ic could be made only by a lover. They spoke to each other, but Grace could not make out the words over the ambient noise. Still, she knew that one spoke with a German accent, and the other with a honeyed Southern drawl.

Just before they turned to go, the younger one glanced casually in Grace's direction. The green eyes lighted on her, and her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Then he smiled at her, a smile full of sweet, and utterly impersonal, charm. The smile that a polite young stranger would offer a dignified little old lady. Then he linked arms with his lover, and they started back up the street, quickly disappearing into the milling crowd.

Grace stared after them, the candy melting forgotten in her hand, the sweetness on her tongue turning to bitterness. She felt a jog at her elbow. "Gramma?" Grace just stared, wanting desperately to catch one last glimpst of that shining hair, those broad shoulder, that body that was still lean and strong and vigorous after two score years. "Gramma, are you all right?"

Feeling very, very old Grace Tomosuka, nee Nakimura turned to her grandaughter and said numbly, "I'm all right, dear. I just saw a ghost, that's all."

The end

Translation:
Meine Lebensdauer, meine Liebe, meine Seele. Meine andere Hälfte, die mich vollständig bildet. Ich wußte daß Sie zu mir kommen würden.
My life, my love, my soul. My other half that makes me whole. I knew that you would come to me.

meine kinder
my children