Winter’s Wolf (11 page)

“I want up. Let me go, female!” His dad’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

Shit.
He dropped his briefcase and ran. Inside the room, Rita pressed a washcloth against his dad’s red face with one hand while her other tried to keep him from hurting himself against the padded restraints she’d snapped on his wrists. His legs thrashed and covers lay in a heap on the floor. Matt never had the heart to shackle his legs, even though he used those feet as weapons.

Matt stepped up beside Rita and put his hand on his father’s arm. “Sorry I’m late.”

She tried to smile, but the whole scene strained her as well as his father. It was a wonder she didn’t quit, but she seemed to genuinely like the old man. Worst of all, his father’s monthly battles taxed his heart, but you’d never know it. On the full moon, he had more than double his usual strength.

“Need to go to the forest. Let me go. Let me.”

Every month, obsessed with the woods. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m here. Just lie back and we’ll go to the woods as soon as you’ve had some rest.”

“You’ll take me, Matty? Won’t you?”

Jesus, it broke his heart.

With him taking her place, Rita slipped behind him and readied the hypodermic needle. His dad stilled for a minute, catching his breath, and Rita moved closer and gave him such a painless stick he barely noticed.

“Can I go now, Matty? I’m ready.”

“Just a few more minutes, Dad.”

His breathing began to slow. The sedative wasn’t recommended for a man with heart disease—in fact, it could be dangerous, but Matt always had to choose. Give him the shot or let him struggle helplessly. Both had to shorten his life. Sometimes he just wanted to load his dad in the car and take him to the woods.
Yeah, crazy.

The old man’s eyes closed and, with twitches and mumbles, he fell asleep.

They crept out of the room, and he closed the door partway. In the living room, Rita flopped on the couch. “He was really bad before you got here. I didn’t want to risk the needle breaking in his arm.”

He walked to the window and stared at the moon shining through the trees in his townhouse complex. “I’m so sorry to leave you with him like this.” His hands clenched and released.

“Hey, you’ve got your work, I’ve got mine.”

He turned and smiled. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to take care of him. Not many people would.”

“Nonsense. How’s your case?”

“Slow. It’s frustrating when you’re pretty sure ‘who done it’ but you can’t prove it.” He smiled but had to swallow the weird taste in his mouth.

“I left you a plate in the oven.”

“Man, you’re too good to me.” He walked into his bedroom and changed to jeans and a long-sleeved sweater, glanced again at the moon, then moved into the kitchen, fetched his food out of the oven, and put it on the kitchen table. Rita had gone to check on his father, so he took a bite of the mac and cheese. Shit, most food tasted like straw at this time of the month. He wanted to spit it out but forced himself to shovel a few bites in his mouth, chew, and swallow. She needed to see him enjoying it. Jesus, she meant so much to his dad’s care, and she was smart and capable. He couldn’t let her see how bad he’d gotten.

She walked back into the room and smiled at his food consumption. “He’s really out. Big ups. Big downs. He’ll probably sleep for at least a few hours. Why don’t you go out and have some fun?”

He shook his head. “No, not tonight. Thanks, though.”

“Okay. I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”

“Good idea.”

She went into her little porch area where she hung out and sometimes slept if his dad was quiet enough. He dumped the rest of the mac and cheese and ground it up in the disposal so she wouldn’t see. Jesus, wasn’t there any meat in this house? He hunted through the refrigerator, found some moderately old slices of turkey he’d bought for sandwiches, and shoved them in his mouth.
Better.
Chewing, he walked back to his bedroom, closed the door, flopped on the bed, jumped up, stared at the moon, closed the blinds with a snap, and threw himself on the bed again.

His heart hammered, his joints hurt, and his cock throbbed.
What a mess.
He flipped over on his belly and started thrusting his hips against the blue bedspread.
Yeah, good.
The denim and the fabric of his boxer briefs rubbed against his swollen dick. Felt good.
Not fucking good enough.

He jumped up again, paced to the window, opened the blinds, and stared while he shoved a hand down his pants and gripped his cock. The beast knew exactly what it wanted. It wanted what it saw that night in the water. What Matt fucking dreamed about when he should be sleeping.

Yes, he knew what he wanted. How could he get it?

W
INTER
SAT
in the SUV outside the gay bar and stared at the moon. What a waste of time. He should get out of the car, drop trou, and go for a run.

He sighed and keyed the ignition. Maybe later.

Pressing the accelerator, he maneuvered onto the side street in Hartford and headed toward the highway. Not one tempting ass occupied that whole club. Twinks, bears, and straight gays alike, he couldn’t get a cock wiggle over one of them. He’d gotten as far as the back alley with a stockbroker before he realized that his junior wolf refused to make an appearance. Oh yeah, he could have gotten the guy to suck him into erection, but if he didn’t want it any worse than that, why bother?

The brilliant moonlight lit up the car brighter than the dash lights. His cock usually sat up and said howdy on the full moon, so where the hell was it tonight? Sadly, he knew exactly where it was. Lurking around the offices of the FBI.
Shit.

He turned off the highway onto the side road that would take him back to Marketo territory.
Marketo.
Weird that was his real last name. Strange to find out at not quite twenty-one you were somebody other than who you thought, and that your own father had been lying to you. He loved Damon, but he didn’t like him very much right now.

On the right, he spied the road that led to the Way Station. His foot stomped the brake, and he backed up a few feet to make the turn. Might as well drown his cock in alcohol. Of course getting a werewolf drunk, especially one as big as him, took way more than he was up for drinking—probably.

He parked at the edge of the lot and walked across the gravel space crowded with cars and trucks. Inside the club, the wolves howled. Energy rippled through the place like radio waves, and the males and females downed alcohol and flirted. Probably they’d be leaving to go run soon. He’d heard that full-moon runs took place in some Harker woods to the east. The wolves would pile into trucks and take off as a pack to celebrate. Yeah, and to fuck. Lots of that happening in both human and animal form. Shit, that sounded good.

He found a table toward the back and slid into the chair, then fiddled with the decorative oil lamp. He could control his desire to shift, but the moon still made him antsy.

An older female waitress approached him. She probably didn’t want to run tonight, so she took over for the younger waitresses. Once the wolves left, the place wouldn’t be very busy. She grinned. “What can I get you, cutie?”

Unlike the young females who he seemed to make very nervous, she didn’t act a bit scared. He grinned. “Beer will be fine.”

“You’re the Marketo boy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why’re you by yourself? No females tempting you?”

He put a hand on his heart. “Alas, I pine for another.”

“Hm. Can’t imagine anyone leaving you on the shelf. I hope whoever she is says yes soon.” She winked.

“So do I, ma’am.”

Chuckling, she walked to the bar and came back a couple of minutes later with his beer. “You joining in the fun?” She nodded to where some of the young wolves were gathering near the front door.

He shook his head.

“Well, aren’t you the independent one.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Hell, if I was forty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

He smiled. “I’ll bet you could.”

“Never doubt it.”

He stuck out his hand. “I’m Winter, by the way.”

She took his hand and shook firmly. “People call me Lulu.”

The front door opened to let the pack of young wolves out, and like some kind of equal and opposite reaction, Matt Partridge walked in. Winter heard his own intake of breath.

Lulu looked up. “Somebody you don’t want to see? I could get rid of him.”

“Uh, no, I just didn’t expect to see him.” He tried to tear his eyes away. Partridge hadn’t come to see him. Hell, Matt could never have guessed Winter would be here. No, he had other agendas—as usual.

Partridge surveyed the room. The second he saw Winter, his lips parted, his eyes widened, and even across the room, that scent of pine and sandalwood got stronger.
Hell you say.

Lulu looked at Winter, then across at Matt, who now threaded between tables with his eyes glued to Winter. She chuckled. “So that’s how it is? Hey, I would have even tried to give him a run.” She smacked Winter’s shoulder and sauntered away, laughing.

Winter didn’t even care if she outed him. Matt Partridge stared at him like he was ready for dinner and Winter was heating up the meal.
Oh yes, come to mama.

Matt reached the table, nostrils flaring, green eyes fixed on Winter. “Glad I found you.” His voice edged with a rumble.

“You were looking?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t seem to want to see me anymore when you left two days ago.” Why the hell had he said that?

“That was then.”

Shit, this Matt took his breath away. Where was his usual conservative, suspicious Matt? Hell, he did not care. “So you found me.”

“Yeah. Want to go somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

Matt leaned forward, and his green eyes held Winter’s. “Into the woods and fuck.”

“Shit, man. What’s gotten into you?”

“You have. Or at least I hope you will very soon.”

Winter’s mouth fell open. He reached in his pocket, but Partridge threw a ten on the table. “Come on.”

“Don’t you want me to meet you outside?”

His eyes glittered unnaturally bright. Was he on drugs? “Oh yeah. Okay. Same place?”

“Yeah.”

“You won’t stand me up?”

“Shit, man, I’m not crazy.”

Partridge laughed and walked out the back door.

What in the bloody, living hell? He should stand him up. The man had clearly lost his marbles somewhere between two days before and the present, and a nutzoid FBI agent had to be dangerous. Did Winter care? Not one tiny fucking particle.

He got up slowly and sauntered toward the front door. As he pushed it open, he looked over his shoulder and saw Lulu give him a tiny waggle of her fingers and a shiny smile. Obviously somebody around here believed in gay werewolves. He winked at her and left the building.

O
UTSIDE
THE
club, the moonlight shone down like liquid that seemed to mix with Winter’s blood in a hot throb through his veins. A couple of humans walked up the path, and Winter shuffled his feet like he was waiting for someone. As soon as they moved inside, he took off at a trot around the back of the club to the shed—a landmark he increasingly cherished.
Partridge hunting.
His cock turned into a heat-seeking missile pointing him toward the target.

He rounded the corner of the shed and stopped. Where was Matt? He sniffed.

“Hey.”

Winter turned toward both the scent and the sound. All he could see was a giant tree with one significant body part sticking out. Long, bare, and delicious. Winter laughed. Yes, the human had gone nuts. He covered the space between them in a few steps, dropped to his knees, and gave the pink head a kiss. “Well, hello there. Where have you been all my life?”

“Waiting for you.”

Winter’s eyes flashed up to Matt’s face. For just a second, his soft green eyes gazed at Winter with an emotion too scary to explore. Then he made a sound suspiciously like a giggle and ran off into the trees.

Okay, give the human a head start so he thinks he can get away.
Winter counted to ten slowly. “There’s no escape!” He took off after Matt’s scent and had him in sight in seconds. Matt dodged behind a tree. Of course, he had no idea Winter could smell him and hear him breathing.

Changing course, Winter sneaked up from behind, trying not to laugh at Matt sticking his head out to peek from the opposite side. With two quick steps, he grabbed Partridge and scooped him up into his arms.

“You scared the shit out of me. How do you move so quietly?”

“Practice.” He grinned and slid an arm under Matt’s legs until he stared down at him like Rhett Butler on the staircase.

Matt gazed into Winter’s eyes. “Now that you have me, what do you plan to do with me?”

Winter smiled and started walking farther into the trees. Matt’s cock still stuck out of his open fly, and it bobbed like some anxious animal.