Wolf Moon

The moon shall change you…..

The moon was bright in the cloudless sky, one of those magnificent late autumn nights when the moon seems to flood the sky with its silver light. I parked the bike and set about unshipping my gear from the panniers, struggling a little since I didn’t want to wake the neighbours and the only light was the gentle silver of the moonlight. As anyone who has experienced that knows, the shadows tend to be deeper in those conditions and make the contrasts more difficult to distinguish. Retrieving my holdall from one pannier and my briefcase from the other, I closed both and stepped back to set the bike’s alarm. As I turned I found myself staring at the most magnificent and the most frightening creature I had ever seen.

It sat on its haunches beneath the Jakaranda tree that graced the garden of the condominium building in which I was currently resident. To be honest, it had that sort of hungry look as it fixed me with a sort of gunsight stare that turns your knees to rubber and gives your bowels and other bits a strong desire to drop everything as you take to your heels! I froze, my brain doing a sort of frantic shuffle sorting out the Maslow scale which, in these circumstances boils down to the three Fs – Fight, Flight or the other one. OK, so the last wasn’t an option – this creature was definitely a boy and even though I’m gay it didn’t look like I’d be the one doing it. The other two didn’t look that great as options either. This beast was big, had the appearance of a wolf, but it was around four times the size of any wolf I had ever seen before – and it looked magnificent! I tried to brazen it out even though the stench of my fear must have been almost at knock-out levels for anything able to smell it.

Fighting to keep control of my voice and my bladder I said, “You’re a good looking fella, where do you live?”

The jaw opened in a tooth filled gape, saliva forming sparkling droplets in the moonlight, and snapped shut again as headlights swung into the street. The head swivelled, and suddenly the creature was on its feet and vanishing into the shadows. I made it inside in nothing flat, snapping on my lights and locking and bolting the door. It took me several minutes to stop shaking enough to walk to the bathroom and avoid an accident. Me! I may be gay, but I’m also ex-service and decorated for gallantry under fire. Yeah, I know; a decorated ex-soldier afraid of a big dog. 

Except for some strange reason, that dog had had a familiar look, something I just couldn’t pin down, and the look in its eyes was hungry. Dogs that size tend to get to eat anything they want and I had the feeling that it had wanted me. I poured myself a stiff whiskey – yes, it is spelled with an ‘e’ if it’s Irish, the real whiskey – and made sure the windows were secure and the curtains drawn. If that thing was out there and after me, it wasn’t going to find it easy to get inside! 

I took a gulp of the whiskey and slopped it down my chin. Damn, that thing had shaken me up more than I thought, but it had been a beautiful animal all the same; and what an animal! I fetched down my copy of “What is it?” and sat down, the glass still in hand as I clumsily turned the pages. I saw the picture I was looking for at last, that had to be it – but it was the wrong colour and the wrong size. At least it was according to this book! And yet, it couldn’t be anything else. That long muzzle, the thick fur, the lean flanks, the deep chest and that great mane of fur across its neck and shoulders – and when it stood up, displaying the brush of its tail – it had to be a wolf. And not just any wolf; this one was clearly an Alpha male, the leader of a pack and not one to challenge from the look of him. It had to be a wolf, even though everything I knew about wolves said they don’t get that big and they aren’t usually that gorgeous golden colour in their fur. Then it hit me – they don’t normally have blue eyes either!

It took three more whiskeys before I felt calm enough to go to bed and to try to sleep – and then I slept badly, disturbed by some very odd dreams involving wolves with golden fur and blue eyes. When I awoke I felt like death and had two cups of coffee before I could even get my head together. It’s at times like this that I really do feel my lack of any close friends or, better still, a partner. I needed to talk this through with someone but it isn’t the kind of thing you can tell just anybody. Not without someone asking some serious questions about the use of certain, not so legal, substances. Or unless you want to spend some quality time exploring the benefits of strait jackets and asylums!

I was late starting out and got to the bike just as a neighbour I had seen around but not yet got to know walked out of his Condo and climbed into a sports car I had been admiring ever since I arrived. I nodded to him as I sat astride the bike in my leathers, helmet still dangling as the bike warmed up. There was something nagging inside my head about him, something familiar, and not just my having seen him occasionally – we are neighbours after all.

He smiled, returning my nod, “Nice bike, I’ve been admiring it since you moved in.”

“Thanks,” I returned the smile, adding, “I had the bike customed to suit my tastes.” Indicating his car I said, “Nice little roadster you’ve got there, bet that’s a real honey on the road.”

“It certainly is,” he slipped into the driver’s seat, his brilliant blue eyes looking directly into my green ones and started it. “See you later,” he called above the engine and backed it into the road, then took off smartly in the direction of town. 

As he did so both brain cells connected – the bush of golden hair streamed in the wind of the roadsters movement and I had a sudden vision of a mane of golden hair framing the head and shoulders of a very large wolf. I shook the image out of my head and regretted it instantly – how much whiskey had I drunk last night? I pulled my helmet on and lifted the bike off its stand, then eased it out into the road and opened the tap. I was going to be late for work. 

I was home before the moon rose and hurried to get inside. You never know what’s lurking in the bushes and the memory of turning round to find that thing staring at me – hunger in its eyes as it did so – had shaken me more than I cared to admit. I had the door open when my golden haired neighbour came out of his condo and waved, “Home early then,” he called.

“Yeah; earlier. I’ve been working a bit too late since I got here, but now things are settling into place and I can relax a bit. You?”

“Know the feeling, but no, I work freelance so I’m flexible,” he laughed. “I’m Felix by the way, if we’re going to be neighbours we better get to know each others names at least.”

I acknowledged his introduction saying, “Yeah, you’re right, Felix, I’m Pat and I’ve just moved into this area. New job, new routines and all that.”

“No partner then?” his question was casual; almost too casual, “Who have you joined?”

“No, we split a few months back,” I grimaced, “You know how it is. And I’ve just joined Megatel IT Corp, I write some of their technical stuff. Can do a lot of it at home too which is useful.” I was getting nervous, the moon would soon be rising and I wanted indoors before then, the hungry stare of that big creature still haunted me. A thought hit me and I asked, “Say, do you know anyone who owns a very big golden haired dog around here? Gave me quite a fright last night and I don’t scare that easily.”

He gave me a strange look and replied, “Golden haired dog? No, no one round here owns any dog like that.”   

The subject dropped, though we saw each other often after that. Truth to tell, I found him very attractive and did my best to attract him. We shared a lot of interests including working out in the gym, swimming and, by accident I discovered, a love of sailing. But he seemed to step back whenever anything like intimacy offered.

“I think I must have BO,” I joked one evening after he had yet again declined to join me for a beer in my condo. “I’m beginning to think you’re trying to put me off. You needn’t worry; I don’t have rabies or anything.”

“Rabies?” he regarded me for a long moment with a penetrating stare. Then he grinned, “No, of course not. It’s just, well, evenings are a bit tricky for me and I’m not much of a beer person either. Tell you what though, how about we have dinner at Luigi’s Friday?”

My heart leapt. Carefully I answered, “Sure, I’ve heard it’s a top restaurant, but I’ve never tried it.” Truth to tell, Luigi’s is the place to eat – if you could get a reservation and afford the prices. The main reason I hadn’t tried it was simple – on my salary I couldn’t afford an entrée!

“Great, I’ll make a reservation – my treat,” his smile was warm and genuine as he said this and once more I felt really attracted to this guy.

“If you’re sure,” I responded, I didn’t want him to be disappointed though so I said, “I’d like that, but isn’t it really difficult to get a reservation? And we can go Dutch if you like,” I added, furiously thinking of how I’d pay for it on a loaded credit card. “I hear it’s quite expensive.”

He grinned and I had a sudden image of fangs before he said, “Not if you know how to ask. Let’s make it seven for seven-thirty. We can go in my car and I insist it’s my treat.” He grinned again and said, “I have to go away until Friday morning so I’ll see you in the evening. I’ll have it all fixed by then.”

That evening the moon was full and twice I awoke with the distinct feeling that I was being watched by something or someone. Yet the moonlit yard was empty, not even a mouse stirred in the bright silver light that flooded the lawn outside my window. Did I mention I’m an ex-soldier? Probably, well I sleep light and I have excellent night vision and hearing. I’m also good at spotting what isn’t right – and no movement, no animals, no bats, no cat prowling – nothing moving is plain wrong. There is always some small animal on the move no matter what. Something was out there, something that had scared the living daylights out of every other creature around this part of the yard and had sent them into hiding, too frightened to move. I slid off the bed and stepped slowly and carefully into a position from which I could see out. Avoiding the window I stood deep in the darkest part of the room and carefully studied the area in view inch by inch. Nothing. I moved position carefully and tried again. Still nothing. I moved a third time and got the same result – but now the hair on the back of my neck was standing upright – there was something out there and it was staring back at me! Why couldn’t I see it? Where the hell was it?

Then quite suddenly the feeling of being watched was gone. For a while longer I sat absolutely still. Slowly I realised that things were moving in the garden again, a cat emerged from somewhere and moved carefully across an open space, something else rustled through a plant and the tension slowly drained away as the night seemed to breathe out slowly and normal life returned.

I mentioned this the next morning to Svetlana, the drop-dead gorgeous partner of Sheila, my next door neighbours.

“Ah,” she said, “Full moon last night. You know how it is, some of us have a little ‘Moon Madness’ when it’s full – you probably just picking up the vibes from someone round here.” 

“Funny that,” I paused, then took the plunge, “A few weeks after I got here, I came home late-ish and found a huge dog watching me when I got off the bike. Big golden haired brute; looked exactly like a wolf, except it was way too big! I asked Felix if he knew of anyone with an animal like that.” I paused briefly thinking about his reply. “And he said ‘No one owns that dog.”

She gave me a funny look and replied, “He said that did he? Well he’d know. Now, if you’d asked about a big black brute I might have some ideas, even a brown one, but golden?”

“Yeah, gorgeous golden, with a big mane of hair framing its head; a really beautiful creature if you like wolves – and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” I stopped, had I heard right? “You said you knew someone who owned a big black dog like this?”

“Not owned, you don’t own them, at least not in the usual way,” she smiled, “But yes, I do know several of them. They don’t usually mess around here though,” she laughed, “Too many of us Queer Folk here already.” Suddenly serious, she asked, “What’s the problem? Has someone said something to you about this?”

“No,” it was my turn to laugh, “I’m just jumpy I guess, new town, new job and everything. Plus I get a bit twitchy when I can’t explain something.”

“Oh,” she smiled again, “Well, you know what the straights say – nothing as queer as a queer! Don’t let it bug you, it’ll sort itself out and if there is a problem you can always talk to Sheila or to Gord down on the end of the row. Gord’s partner is a shrink so he can usually help sort things out if it’s just settling problems.”

“Thanks, that’s good to know,” I grinned at her and added, “But I’m a head case anyway. Even the Army couldn’t sort me out properly and they certainly tried!”

We chatted some more and then I got the bike going and headed into town. There was plenty to keep me occupied and the conversation and the strange happenings around the condos slipped into the back of my mind as the full moon came and went. By Friday evening I was ready for a break from work and looking forward to that dinner with Felix. OK, so I was really attracted to the guy, he was just, well, so damn sexy and just the sort of person I liked to be with – even without the sexual attraction. Damn, I’d have tried to be friends with this guy even if we had both been absolutely straight! 

I dressed carefully. After all, this was a first ‘date’ and I wanted to look good for Felix, especially somewhere like Luigi’s. Perhaps I should explain, Luigi’s is the place in town where the ‘in’ crowd meet. If you can afford it regularly, you’re a member of the ‘in’ set. Felix apparently could afford it, and I didn’t want to embarrass him or feel out of place myself. So, after I’d showered and shaved, I made sure I had my best real silk shirt on, my tight fitting tailored slacks over a specially cut lycra thong that shows off my package well and my best pair of shoes. The combination looked really good and I added a smart sports jacket and just the right dash of my favourite aftershave, a subtle scent I liked, to finish everything off.

At exactly seven the door chime sounded. I opened the door to find a smiling Felix standing there, a smile on his face and tired look in his eye. “Hi,” I greeted him. “Bang on time Felix. You look tired; sure you want to do this?” I asked, my concern showing.

“I am a bit tired, but an invite is an invite, Pat. Besides I need to feel human again, it’s been a rough week,” he replied. “Come on, Luigi won’t hold the reservations forever and I’m starving.”

I pulled my door shut and locked it, slipping the key into my pocket and turning to follow him down to the car. To my surprise he held the door for me and I slipped into the comfortable seat with a grin, “Why thank you, sir,” I wisecracked, “You’re a real gentleman.”

He grinned as he shut the door carefully replying, “It’s nice to be appreciated. But it’s really so you don’t slam my door – I know you biker types, don’t know your own strength.”

He slipped into his own seat and started the motor, almost absently fitting his seatbelt with the other hand. Backing into the street he accelerated away and, at the intersection, turned towards the city centre. 

“You said your week was a tough one?” I asked as he drove expertly through the increasing traffic, “Want to talk about it?”

He flicked a funny look at me and said, “Not a lot to tell really, always the same at this time of the month, a lot of stress for a few days, but then things get back to normal again. How’s your week been? Any more encounters with the wildlife?”

“If you mean my big dog visitor, no. But I had a strange feeling all Monday night – it was as if something was outside my bedroom. I could feel it watching me but couldn’t see what it might be.” I glanced across at him to gauge his reaction, “Kept me awake for a bit, but then I’m used to that.”

“What, being watched or being kept awake?” 

“Being awake. It’s the Army stuff – and I sleep light so anything out of the ordinary wakes me.”

He pulled the car into Luigi’s carpark and turned off the engine, then he asked, “So what woke you – there wasn’t any noise.”

“That’s it, there wasn’t any noise and there should have been something, a cat prowling, mice or moles or something.” Then it hit me. He hadn’t asked if there was no noise, he’d stated it! “How did you know it there was no noise?” I asked my senses now alert.

“Just a guess really,” he replied casually, his ready grin disarming me. “I mean, it had to be something that would disturb a soldier. What would disturb a soldier most is something not as it should be. Simple deduction.”

Luigi’s was packed. It always is on a Friday night. The Maitre d’ hotel hurried forward to meet us, a plastic smile on his face as he greeted Felix. “Mr Kirsch, how good to see you, it’s been a while since we had the pleasure.”

“Thanks, Marco,” Felix grinned, “It has been a while as you say. I hope you’ve a nice table for us this evening.”

“I think so,” the Maitre responded, snapping his fingers at a waiter, “Gino, see Mr Kirsch to table twelve and take his drinks order.”

I followed the waiter, Felix having made it plain he wanted me to go ahead of him. The table was a good one, clear view of the small stage and next to a window allowing us to see the garden terrace outside. I settled my butt into a chair held by the waiter and watched Felix seat himself then take the wine list.

He looked across at me and smiled, “I know you prefer your Irish Whiskey,” he said, “But let’s enjoy a bottle of wine. Do you prefer red or white?”

“Red,” I responded, my mind racing. How did he know I drank Irish whiskey? I was pretty sure I’d never mentioned it to him. “I rather like a Cabernet, but a medium dry is good.”

He nodded, absorbed in the wine list. Finally he made his selection and ordered it. The waiter’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise I think, but he made a note and departed, leaving us to examine the menu.

“I’m ravenous,” Felix said, “Will you join me in an entrée, a main and a desert? It’ll mean a serious workout in the gym next week, but I feel like enjoying a really good meal tonight.”

I glanced at the entrée pages and tried to gauge the cost of the items. My menu had no indication of the price of anything, a sign of a really top notch eatery.  I grinned, “OK, I’ll join you, but only if you agree that next time – it’s on me.”

“If you insist,” he smiled lazily, his eyes hooded, “Or you could simply invite me to your place for a home cooked if you prefer.”

I laughed as the waiter hurried back, “I tried that, but you weren’t biting then. OK, so next week then?”

Our conversation was suspended while the waiter presented the label and then poured a small quantity into Felix’ glass. I watched in admiration as he sniffed it, then sipped and held it in his mouth for a moment. Finally, to my and the waiters apparent relief, he said, “That will do, though it really needs to stand a while.”

The waiter poured a measure into my glass then did the same for Felix, replacing the bottle in a holder next to our table he moved away again to allow us time to make our selection from the menu. I was having real trouble now – everything looked delicious – so I narrowed my choices and opted for a roulade of salmon and avocado slices to be followed by a Luigi’s speciality, a steak served in an oyster and mushroom sauce. Felix nodded in approval as I ordered and then gave his own, ordering a steak Diane. We laughed as we almost echoed one another in answering how we liked our steaks cooked saying “Rare!”

The food was superb – as you would expect – but for me, the company was even better. Felix was not just a superb host, he really knew how to make his companion feel really special and the evening simply flew past until eventually our mints were consumed and the coffee a memory in the cafetiere. I’d forgotten how good it felt to have a really good meal in the company of someone you find really attractive. I excused myself to pay a visit to the men’s room and when I returned he’d paid the bill. Now I could see the tiredness in his face and I said, “You look all in, it must have been one hell of a week. Much as I don’t want to end the evening, you look like your bed is calling.”

He stood up, his smile lighting up his face and his eyes flashed something else, briefly, as he said, “You’ve no idea how tough, but I’ve enjoyed this evening so much I think I’ll take back my acceptance of your invitation – just so I can get you to come here again!”

“Hey,” I said as we made our way to the door, “No fair. But I certainly won’t object to being treated here again – after you come to dinner at my place.”     

At my door he smiled and said, “Thanks, Pat, thanks for coming out with me and for being such great company. I’m sorry I’m so tired, it really has been a very rough week, but I really needed to be able to just be human and in good company tonight.”

“It’s me should be saying thanks,” I shot back. “I’ve had a great time. I’ve had the company of the best looking guy in town and he even bought me my dinner.” I grinned and took his hands. “I’m glad I have you for a neighbour and even gladder I can call you a friend. Now do me a favour – kiss me; and then I can sleep and so can you.”

For a moment I thought he was going to refuse and then he moved close and put his lips to mine, his arms slipping round me in a surprisingly powerful embrace. The kiss was a deep and lingering one; he took control of it and left me in no doubt of it. I surrendered to it and enjoyed his warmth, his strength and the sensation of being controlled, marked as his property. 

Slowly it came to an end, the intensity fading as he carefully drew back. For a moment longer he held me, his eyes boring deep into mine, then with something between a sob and a sigh, he released me and turned to go.

“Wait,” I said softly. “Felix, thank you. I mean this, you are welcome in my home anytime – and I’ll have a really good meal ready for you next Friday to prove it.” He stared back at me for a moment and I added, “And anytime you want to take our friendship further, I’ll be ready.”

For a moment he hesitated. “Give me some time to think things through,” he said. “It’s not as easy for me as it seems. It could even be very dangerous for you and I don’t want that.” His blue eyes locked with my green ones and his smile flickered briefly. “We’ll have to work on it.”

Our friendship developed rapidly from this dinner, though it remained just that – a good friendship and nothing more, no matter how desperately I would have liked it to develop into a relationship, something held Felix back. His monthly disappearances ‘on business’ became lonely times for me since he never even answered e-mail and messages left on his mobile phone went unanswered. His returns were always quiet and he invariably looked dead tired for at least a full day afterward – but selfishly I was always delighted to see him when he returned.

It was during one of his ‘Business’ absences that I happened to be watching the news and almost spilled my drink as the newsreader dramatically announced, “In developing news, there has been an attack on a group of men from the League Against the Forces of Darkness. The extreme religious group have been campaigning for years to bring in a new statute to outlaw what they refer to as “perversion and moral laxity in our society” and have been implicated in a number of assaults on people they label ‘Children of the Devil’. Preliminary reports state that they were ‘disciplining’ a pair of young men they had surprised on the university campus engaged in ‘aberrant acts’. One of the group has told police they were set upon by a pack of what they call ‘Hounds of Hell’. Investigations continue, but the renowned paranormal investigator Dr Erich Van Halen has offered his services to the city to rid it, he says, of evil forces that have been harbouring here for years.”

I downed my drink and swore violently, my temper boiling over. Damn! Damn the bloody League! They had driven me out of my home town years ago and some of their bullies had given me a working over a couple of years ago just because I had been open to the wrong people about my relationship with my ex-partner. And now the evil bastards were here and hunting people like me again. I hoped the ‘Hell Hounds’ had given them a damned good going over. It certainly sounded like it, but now the ‘Hounds’ would need to be careful, Dr Van Halen’s reputation as a merciless killer of anything he labelled ‘paranormal’ was legendary. Damn him too!

The Police Chief was just finishing a statement as I switched my attention back to the screen, “ … we thank Dr Van Halen for his offer, but will not be taking him up on it at this stage. I’m afraid his reputation and the methods he employs are not acceptable in our jurisdiction and would raise several problems for us. Our investigations will continue, but I must stress that these will include a full examination into the activities of the League and its members. Ours is a civilised and tolerant community and I will not allow, and the Courts support us in this, any group or activity which threatens that tolerance.”

As the news moved on to the latest famine in Africa or war in the Near East, I lost interest, wrapped in my own thoughts. Felix was away again, but I expected him back tomorrow, after all, we had another dinner date. My mind went to the ‘Hell Hound’ description and it registered that it fitted the huge hound that had surprised me so many months ago. So what the hell were these animals – and why did you never see them except at night – not that I had since that first encounter, where did they go during the day?

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I put down my drink and got up, checking the spyhole before I unlocked and opened it to Svetlana. She was in a bit of a state as she said, “Come quickly, Gordon needs help, he’s been injured.”

“Where is he?” Automatically I looked towards the street expecting to see cars or a group clustered around someone there.

“He’s in his condo, Phil is with him but they need help.”

“Have you called an ambulance?” I demanded, grabbing a first aid kit I usually carry on the bike and locking the door I followed.

She gave me a strange look and said, “No. It’s …” she paused, “Damn, this is difficult, look; let’s just say Gordon’s not himself at this time of the month. I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if we didn’t trust you – and we thought that as you are ex-forces you’d be the best person to know what to do!”

I found myself being pushed into Gordon and Phil’s condo, the last in the row that makes up our low-rise block. It was beautifully furnished and really homely, a real ‘home’ and not, like mine, just a place I lived when not at work. In the middle of the living room Gord lay naked and bleeding badly – but he looked really strange, part of him was very animal and his face seemed contorted or covered by a mask. The noises he was making were also animal and not human and then it hit me, his head, chest, arms and back seemed to be covered in thick black fur. 

“What the hell?” I gasped before I could stop myself. Then I saw the problem. He’d been shot and my training kicked in. I had my pack open before anyone could respond to my surprise and I was on my knees with a bomb dressing in my hands. “Let me see the wound,” I demanded. “Has it gone clean through him?” I checked for an exit hole and found it. Typical, it had made a real mess, some bastard was using soft nosed bullets. Fortunately it didn’t seem to have hit anything vital, but he’d lost a lot of blood. I packed the wound with medicated dressing and gauze, then asked, “When he was hit, was he wearing anything?”

Phill shook his head staring at me, “You don’t know, do you,” he said quietly, “No, he wasn’t.” He looked at the still struggling figure and asked, “Will he live?”

“It’s a bloody messy wound, but it hasn’t hit anything vital and as long as there’s no foreign matter like bits of cloth in there, he should recover, but he’s lost a hell of a lot of blood – he needs a transfusion.” I finished packing the wound and secured the dressing properly. “That should stop the major bleeding at least until we can get him to hospital. Have you called the ambulance?” I asked again.

There was a silence. Then Svetlana said, “Look at him, Pat. We can’t call the ambulance, they’ll be watching and looking for him. They know he was injured, but we got him first and managed to get him into a van to bring him home.”

I took a good look. Now that the battle training was ebbing from me I realised that the person I was looking at wasn’t quite human, but somewhere between human and – what? I looked down and something clicked into place. “Gord is a ..,” I hesitated.

“Yes, Gord is a Werewolf. Like most of those here who are, he leaves town and they go up into the mountains or somewhere away from people when it comes on them. And if we take him anywhere near a hospital with this wound the police will be all over him and anyone close to him in minutes.” Phil looked at me, challenging me to argue. When I didn’t he continued, “They know those bastards in the League tried to kill them and they know one of them was wounded so they will be monitoring every medical facility for miles.”

“What about the guys the League attacked,” I asked. “Are they OK?”

“Thanks to the pack, yes. But they’ll have to move on now too, the League has vowed to purge the Campus of us ‘deviants’.” Svetlana spat the word.

“OK,” I said. “But now we have to worry about Gord. Is there anywhere we can get some electrolyte infusions? Any of you able to set up a drip? If we don’t get some fluid into him he may just die on us through blood loss. Better would be a blood transfusion, but I don’t know how much he’s lost or how much he’ll need. Anyone we know a doctor or a nurse with some kit and the expertise?” I looked at Phil. “You’re a shrink aren’t you? Well, do you have access to any of the kit we need?”

“Thanks for bringing me back to reality, Pat. Yes, you’re right, I do, but it’s all in my surgery and it would raise suspicions if I went there right now.” He frowned in thought for a moment. “I may have our father’s old medical bag in the closet though.” He got to his feet and disappeared down the corridor.

I did my best to make our now weakening patient more comfortable. Svetlana had brought blankets and we wrapped him carefully in these trying not to disturb the wound more than necessary and leaving it visible so I could check on the bleeding. As I worked I had time to study the mask-like features that contorted my neighbour's face and I realised that his appearance was something between a human and a wolf. The hair covered his ‘muzzle’ and swept back over his head to cover his chest, shoulders and back. Even his genitals had become dog-like, though he seemed to be between species in that his arms and legs were more human than animal, though his feet and hands still bore more resemblance to paws than hands or feet. We had just succeeded in settling the patient more comfortably and clear of the now drying pool of blood, when Phil returned.

“Found it,” Phil said, “It’s not got much but at least I can check his heart beat and blood pressure with the kit I have here and maybe even stitch up some of the damage. We do need to set up a drip though; I don’t like the colour of his gums or his tongue.”

I looked at what he was saying and memories of vets and childhood pets flooded back, the last dog I had ever owned had died after being hit by a car and his gums had also gone this pale white colour as he had bled to death internally on the way to the vet. We worked carefully for a while longer and the BP reading showed that we really did need to give Gordon a transfusion, but where and how to get one? Then Sheila had a moment of inspiration.

“Erica,” she said, “She’s a medical rep – she has a garage full of samples. I’ll call her!”

“Great,” said Phil, “We need around ten saline packs and any sutures she might have. Also any antibiotics, doesn’t matter what for now. And dressings – medi-gauze preferably with antibacterial coating.”

Fifteen minutes later Svetlana and Sheila were on their way to collect the items. Within ten minutes they were back with the mystery Erica and her partner. In the interim Phil and I had managed to get our patient into the bedroom and onto the bed and I had made a reasonable stab at cleaning up the mess on the floor and the traces of blood on the walls and the door he had come in through. 

Relieving me of the cleaning kit, Sheila said, “Get in there Pat, you are more use to Phil there than we are – and we can get this sorted while you work on Gordon.”

“OK, but I’m not a medic, just got some battlefield first aid training is all,” I protested.

“Damned sight more than the rest of us have,” snapped Svetlana. “Phil needs your help – his medical training is as rusty as hell, he’s spent too long playing with people’s heads since medical school.”

I got to the bedroom to find Phil and Erica struggling to find a vein into which they could insert the needle for the drip. With the loss of blood, Gordon’s veins were hard to find and even harder to get a needle into through the fur still thick on his arms. I nipped into the bathroom hoping that one of them at least still shaved as I do with an old fashioned razor and got lucky. Returning to the bedside I gently moved Phil aside and said, “Here, let me shave some of the fur away, it’ll be easier to see what you are doing then.”

He shot me a grateful look and moved the lamp. 

I applied the shaving lotion and began to mow the fur away from the inside of the elbow. The skin looked pale and felt clammy, a sure sign of bad shock setting in. We didn’t have long – and then a thought hit me. If the bullet that hit him wasn’t silver – a werewolf won’t actually die will it?”

“I don’t want to have to find out,” Phil said in a tight voice, “You may be right – at least that is what the legends say – but I don’t want to have to lose my brother to check it!”

“Brother?” I said, pausing in my shaving to look at him, “I thought ….”

“Yeah, most people do,” Phil nodded, “Actually we are adopted. We grew up together, raised in the same household, as ‘brothers’ but we aren’t genetically related. Still, he’s all I’ve got as family, and we've been lovers since our ‘teens,” he added shyly.

I finished my shaving, cleaned the area and fitted a tourniquet above the elbow, twisting it tight. Even with this in place the vein was still hard to see, but with a grateful grunt of approval, Phil managed to insert the needle and couple up the drip. I glanced at the label and grinned. Turning to Erica I said, “Brilliant, synthetic plasma – it saved a lot of my mates in the services and me after my APC took a hit. Now I’m certain he’ll make it.”

She shot me a grateful smile, “Thanks, I’ll still have to figure out how to account for these but if it pulls him through, I’ll find a way.”

“I’ll get my surgery to make up an order for you,” Phil interjected. “My usual range of tranquilisers and dopamines should give a cover for these.” He looked at us both and smiled weakly. “I have to thank you both, but you especially, Pat. We weren’t thinking straight until you hit the floor and took charge. Some damned doctor I am!”

“Not your speciality is all.” I gripped his shoulder. “Now all we need to do is make sure no one finds out what happened to him. Where does he work?”

“That’s an easy one. He freelances so the only people who’ll be looking for him are people he does regular jobs for. I can cover those, but I can’t be sure the police or someone else won’t come sniffing round here if anyone saw us get him into the van and tracked it here.”

“Whose van is it?” I asked.

“It’s Gordon’s,” came the response. “I’ve put it in the garage – the insides a real mess, I’m not sure how we’ll ever get it cleaned without arousing someone’s suspicion.”

“OK, we’ll have to figure that one out.” I nodded. “Now; would someone tell me what this is all about? I think I deserve a little bit of an explanation.”  

The explanation covered what I had started to add up. Our town was home to a colony of Werewolves. There weren’t that many of them and they generally went out of town and into the hill country away from people when it was ‘that time of the month’. But they had also formed a sort of protective alliance when the League had begun operating in the town a few years earlier. Mostly it was enough to scare the living daylights out of the homophobes and leathernecks that fell for the Leagues garbage, but more recently things had turned nasty. 

The league now used weapons against them and didn’t hesitate to rough up anyone they suspected of being a ‘hell bound deviant’. The change had all begun when a new and fiery preacher had moved into town and taken over a congregation. That he was also a Dean of Faculty in the University had lent strength to his position, and now he was demanding that Dr Van Halen be invited to ‘cleanse’ the town of the ‘Hell Fiends’ that had been allowed to settle here. Dawn was breaking as they finished telling me all this, but at least Gordon was once more assuming his human form and he was also looking a lot better than he had been – he still looked like hell, but at least it was a better looking hell.

As I let myself into my condo, Felix pulled into his parking spot. I waved a greeting and he responded, but now my mind was on sleep and how I was going to cope with a day’s work. Then I stopped myself. To hell with it. I marched to the phone and called in sick, leaving a message with the night service recorder for my boss. I was beginning to think it was time I moved again.

The next morning I reported for work and found the office buzzing with excitement. There were security guards everywhere and even a police cruiser parked outside.

“What’s going on?” I asked at reception, “Are we due for a visit from the President or something?”

“You missed a hell of a day yesterday,” the receptionist told me as I signed in. “The Reverend Abel Bashim came round to see the General Manager, demanding that if we wanted to keep the university’s business he had to sack every ‘Son and Daughter of Satan’ we employ.”

“Well I guess I’d better pack up my things then and wait for my pay-off,” I joked half-heartedly.

She gave me a strange look, “Are you …” she began and then changed her mind, “Why? The GM picked up the phone and told the university to start looking for another supplier immediately. That we wouldn’t be servicing their contract with immediate effect and that none of our staff would be permitted to respond to any request from them. Then he threw the Reverend out, literally,” she finished with a laugh.

“I bet that went down well with the League.” I laughed. “Hell they must be getting ready to burn us out for that.”

“Well, they’ve made some pretty specific threats, but Commissioner Milligan responded with some threats of his own for any ‘vigilante’ action and they seem to have gone to ground.” She looked me in the eye. “You over whatever bug you had yesterday?”

“Yeah,” I lied. “Must’ve eaten something that didn’t like me. You know how it is sometimes.”

Things simmered for a while with lots of sabre rattling in the press and on the television. A couple of bars got trashed, amusingly one of them a straight club frequented by the football hooligans and which no self-respecting gay would have been seen dead in. I wondered to Felix how the League had managed to get that one wrong and he laughed, saying only that they got plenty wrong.

Our friendship had really grown after the incident with Gordon, but still he held back from anything more intimate than the occasional kiss. Eventually I confronted him asking, “What is it you can’t share with me Felix? You know I’d do anything you want me to.”

He fixed me with those blue eyes and there was a yearning in them as he replied in a tight voice, “It’s not you, Pat. It’s nothing to do with you, it’s what I am. You’ve seen Gordon. Well, you’ve seen me too. That first night you came home – I was waiting for you. I had you marked down for a kill. We all thought you were straight and possibly with the League, come to sniff out me or Gordon, so I was going to maul you – infect you so that you’d be like us, force you to become one of us.” He got up and drained his glass. As he put it down he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you that. I’ve been trying to find a way to forget it, but it doesn’t go away. We were mistaken and I’m sorry.”

I was on my feet now, “So you think you can tell me that and just walk out of my life?” I demanded. “What are you afraid of? That I might hold it against you? That someday I might turn out to be one of Van Halen’s acolytes and stick a silver bullet into you?” I gripped his shoulders. “Damn it all Felix, what must I do to show you how I feel about you? I don’t care what you planned to do to me that night – you didn’t so that’s it – gone, finished, forgotten. I don’t care that for five days a month I’m going to have the most beautiful golden wolf in the world slobbering at my throat, our friendship – no the love I feel for you – means a damned sight more than any of that.”

For a long time he said nothing, then slowly he drew me closer and we stood in a tight embrace. I could feel his yearning and I knew damned well he could feel mine, then he drew slightly away and held my eyes with his. “There are big risks Pat and I don’t want to put you at risk, you’ve more than proved yourself a friend and, yes, a lover. Give me a little more time is all I ask – and next time you see the golden wolf – throw him a bone.”  

Gordon’s recovery was slow. Certainly it wasn’t helped by his not being able to get proper medical attention, but at the end of a month he was able to pick up some of the work he had been doing. I met him in the parking lot. “Hey, Pat,” he greeted me. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you. Phil told me how you took charge and fixed me up.”

“He’s exaggerating,” I replied. “All I did was stop the bleeding and sort out a couple of other things. How’s the wound?”

“Healing nicely.” He winked. “There are advantages to being what I am and being damned hard to kill is one of them.”

“I could have used that ability when I was serving in Afghanistan,” I joked. “They damned near finished me off permanently.”

“Then you’d better talk to Felix.” He grinned. “There are more fun ways it can be done!”

I put this to Felix over dinner, saying, “Talking to Gordon a day or two ago, he says that there are other ways someone can become a werewolf. Is that true?”

“He shouldn’t have told you,” Felix said. “It is risky, very risky. The only sure way is to be born one, or for you to be killed by one – and that isn’t going to happen to you if I can help it!” His tone seemed to close the discussion and I would have left it there, but he continued, “I have a proposal for you, Pat. I have a holiday home in the lakes. Will you spend a week there with me after the next full moon? We can try and work something out for the future there.”    

I was surprised into silence for a minute, then I grabbed his hand across the table and said, “Try and stop me. You bet I will spend time with you and we will find a way – I know it.”

His smile was pure happiness as he said, “Slow down hero, it won’t be easy, but, yes, we will work this one out. I think you’re ready to face the wolf again and this time he’ll be a much nicer Lupus.”

“I know it,” my grin felt as if it would split my face, “and he is one wolf I want to see again and again.”

The cabin was set on a spur rising above a canyon, one side bounded by an almost sheer cliff of limestone, the other by a wide strip of land and a less precipitate slope into the valley. The views were stunning and I stood for several minutes just drinking in the beauty of the landscape around us, Felix at my side. We didn’t speak, there was no need. My hand sought his and I squeezed it gently, a gesture he returned and for a while longer we just stood, hand in hand and let the peace sink into us, both of us reluctant to break the spell. Finally I turned toward him and said softly, “Thank you.”

Taking my free hand in his, he said, “Don’t thank me yet, we have a difficult choice to make – and for you it may be very painful.”

“Lead me to it my love, I want to be with you and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to do that.” I planted my mouth on his and we locked into a long slow kiss, our pent up feelings for one another finally taking charge.

Drawing away gently he said, “Not here, and not yet.” He grinned, “Now let’s get the stuff out of the car and rustle up some supper. I’m starved – not a good thing in a wolf you know!” 

I wanted him so badly I almost tried to force him, but then sense prevailed and I grinned, “OK Mr Wolf, I obey you. Will you cook or shall I?”

“We’ll do it together,” he said hefting our holdalls out of the luggage space, “Bring in the groceries and I’ll put our stuff in the bedroom.”

I found the bags and the chiller box and unloaded them, making for the kitchen in his wake with three bags and the chiller. The kitchen was an alcove off the main living area and I quickly found that the cupboards were well stocked with tinned food so I simply added the stuff we had brought, carefully rotating it to the back or the bottom as was appropriate. I turned to find him stocking the small fridge from the chiller box and asked, “Won’t that need to chill up?”

“Solar panels,” he responded, “Keeps this and several other things running.” He emerged, two drinks in hand and handed me one. “Let’s take a seat and relax – I think a BBQ in a while don’t you?” 

The meal, the clean air, the scent of the trees and the earth combined to relax me in all but one thing. I wanted to make love to this man more than anything in the world, but he was still playing caution. Finally he rose and stretched. “I think it’s time,” he said, his face suddenly serious. 

“Time for what?” I asked.

“Time to find out if this will work.” He stared at the floor. “It’s time for you to face the wolf again.”

“I’m ready for that, Felix, I’ve been ready since we got here.” I moved close to him. “So let me face him.”

He studied me for a moment, then he nodded. “OK. There are three ways you can become a werewolf. You know two of them. The third is sometimes the most difficult. You’ll have to trust me on this and do exactly as I say. Can you do this?”

I nodded, unsure what to expect or to say.

“Good, then go to the bedroom, strip off and take the stool you will find there, put it at the foot of the bed and lie over it along its length. I’ll join you in a minute, but I must warn you, it can be rough – when I’m in my wolf state I don’t always have the ability to restrain myself.”

“Felix, I’m ready for this, I’ve wanted it for a long time now. Whatever happens remember that I’m doing this because I love you and because I want to.” I planted a kiss on his lips and walked to the bedroom. It didn’t take me long to strip or to position the stool and put myself on it. I heard the door swing wider, felt the warm breath as my lover explored my anus and then my scrotum. His tongue teased the sensitive tissue of my sphincter and my erection thrust against the underside of the stool. The rough tongue explored further and I moaned softly in pleasure, gripping the legs of the stool tightly. 

Carefully now, he rose on his hind legs and his chest brushed my back, his forelegs gripped my torso and suddenly there was pressure on my sphincter, a moment of pain and he was inside me. The contact with my prostate sent a wave of ecstasy rippling through me and I moaned again in pleasure as he set to work. Then whimpered in fright as his teeth sank into my neck, a deep and terrifying growl filling his throat as he thrust himself into me. It lasted seemingly forever and then I felt the change and the eruption deep inside me. 

Finally spent, he eased off my back and sank down beside me, but to my surprise we were still joined. It was then I remembered that dogs sometimes have to wait until the dog’s penis relaxes. So Werewolves suffered from this as well, I thought slowly. A warm tongue licked my face, cleaning the salty tears from my cheeks and I took one hand from my stool leg and ruffled the glorious golden mane around his throat, “Thank you,” I whispered, “Thank you my glorious wolf.”

I don’t know how long we remained like this, but I was weak at the knees as I stood up when he had finally withdrawn. My neck was a little bloody where he had bitten me and I dabbed at this with a wet cloth and applied some cream to the wounds as my glorious golden wolf watched. Then I moved to the bed and lay on my back, pulling aside the covers, I said softly, “Please my beloved wolf, join me, let me feel you next to me and show you how much I love you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he jumped nimbly onto the bed, licked my face and then jumped off again, vanishing into the bathroom. I listened in awe to what sounded like painful contortions and then my gorgeous Felix walked out and eased into bed beside me. We wound ourselves into an embrace and kissed long and hard. 

With a deep sigh he broke the kiss and leaned back to look at me, “I’m sorry about the bites. I did warn you – but now you are certainly going to be one of us. When we get back we’ll have to decide which Condo we release,” he grinned, “Now there’s a variant on ‘Your place or mine’. Welcome to the world of a werewolf Pat – I can’t wait to see you in your wolf shape!”

I pulled him toward me. “Neither can I lover, now make love to me again – this time in your human form!”   

End