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Lycanthrope Ch. 01

By: bluefox07



EDITOR:

MIRIAM BELLE

CREATIVE CONSULTANTS:

MIRIAM BELLE & SIMPLY_CYN

*

"EMERALD EYES, CRIMSON MOON"

***

It wasn't until he came back from taking the longest piss of his life that David Carson noticed his son was nowhere in sight. He listened for a minute, straining to here the slightest twig break or rustling of a bush. The forest was quiet and strangely devoid of any animal sounds today, calm and sedated. He buttoned his fly and stepped back into the clearing, his heavy black boots kicking up saw dust. He frowned and looked down the twisted, uneven path wrought from the thick brush.

"Michael?" he shouted.

Only his echo bouncing between the trees into the distance replied.

David wiped his dark brow with the back of his large hand and walked down the trail to his Dodge Ram truck. Maybe the boy had gone back for a soda? He hoped so. The forest carried the sounds of his progress as he navigated the overgrown trail, his obsidian black eyes scanning the infinite woods as he went. The fresh unbroken evergreen brush and pine trees greeted him as he reached the red truck. He opened the cab door and found only the Igloo ice chest, untouched and exactly where he had left it.

"Michael Carson get your ass out here, boy!" he shouted again, his heart beginning to pound.

David went back up the trail, this time at more of a run than a walk. The clearing was packed with fresh cut oak and cedar, a fine truckload for this winter. The smell of the wood was normally refreshing and soothing for David, but at the moment it did nothing to ease his panicking heart. The six year old had gone wandering off despite what he had been told. But then what could David expect? Wandering off and disobeying were a stock in trade for little boys.

"Michael!" he cupped his powerful brown hands together and bellowed, his voice reverberating through the woods, "Michael speak up!"

A crow, black as the night itself, soared overhead and cawed. David jumped, mad at himself for being startled by a damned bird. He looked down at the Stihl chainsaw and axe he had left by the tree trunk Michael had been watching him cut up since nine that morning. The large ear protectors the boy used to hide from the noise of the chainsaw were lying on the ground in a damp pile of orange sawdust and dirt. David picked them up and then felt something wet on the headpiece.

He looked at his fingers and saw a smear of crimson blood. Every muscle in his powerful frame began shaking as he stared at the blood in a stupid kind of awe. He licked his lips, looked out into the forest again and screamed his son's name, "Michael!"

Upon further inspection of the ground he found more small spatters of blood leading off into the shrubs. Grabbing his battered axe, David followed the blood drops over the brush and undergrowth, a clear trail of broken stems and branches leading away and to the north. He followed the trail like a determined bloodhound as fine flakes of snow whished in the air around him. He didn't think or reason. He simply followed with a murderously single-minded determination.

'Someone grabbed him,' he thought, 'Oh Jesus someone grabbed him...' 

How could he not have heard someone sneaking up on them like that? Sure, the chainsaw had been screaming all day long, but there had breaks in between. Maybe a man could have waited for the saw to be running hot to creep up, but during the long pauses while David explained what he was doing to Michael there would have been a twig snapping or an old rotted branch popping in two to warn them. The forest was unusually quiet today, the calm before a major storm he had figured. Hearing a mole fart underground should have been easy enough. Losing a hyperactive six year old shouldn't have been.

"Michael!"

His heart was hammering now as he walked deeper and deeper into the Northern California woods. Heavy shadows were claiming the world as the gray clouds above became dark and foreboding. He could hear thunder rolling across the sky, another warning of the weather to come. The dead oak leaves beneath his boots slipped against the mud and threatened his footing at seemingly regular intervals as he treaded the uneven terrain. He gripped the axe with his hands tightly as the blood trail led him through several large collections of tangle wood and blackberry bushes. The thorns raked at his jeans and pricked at the dark skin of his arms. With each green leaf or brown branch he found blood dribbled on he became more and more possessed by his own fear.

"Please Jesus," he whispered, "Please Jesus in heaven..."

Finally, after managing to make it through almost fifty yards of thick foliage, he reached a large, decomposing cedar tree. The mighty tree had fallen years ago from the looks of it, it's bark splintered and decayed to washed out sienna. On the trunk of the tree was a large, dark smear of something wet. The rotted bark was soaked with it and David didn't have to touch it to know what it was. There was far too much blood for a little boy to loose and live.

Still, with tears in his eyes he shouted, "Michael! Where are you!? Talk to me, Michael!"

His terrified voice mocked him as it carried away on the wind, bouncing between the trees and plants in some sort of twisted game. David scratched at his goatee, his handsome African features contorted in a grimace of desperation. He held the axe in one hand and wiped the tears from his eyes with the other. He looked back at the stain of blood on the bark of the cedar as snow began to fall more evenly. The white powdery snow lighted on the rain drenched forest and began to coat.

"MICHAEL!" he bellowed as the wind kicked up, spinning the frozen flakes wildly.

A twig snapped behind him. David spun on his heel and looked into the woods, his eyes frantically scanning for any sign of his son. From behind another broken tree he saw something move. David felt a wash of relief and took a step forward. He smiled as he cried, "Oh Jesus, Michael. You scared me to death."

A low, guttural growl registered from behind the debris of the tree and the bushes in had destroyed in the fall. In the fading light, David saw more blood on this new tree. A lot more of it. He stopped in his tracks, the growl becoming a wet, sloppy snarl. His throat closed off as he listened, his grip on the axe becoming shaky and uncertain. 

And then it rose up from its hiding place.

It was huge, the size of full-grown man only much more muscular and primitive. Coarse black, gray and brown fur covered its entire body like the coat a finely bred German Shepard might sport. It looked like a man, but the head was all wrong. Large ears, pricked to attention and slightly laid back against the skull twitched at the sound of David's gasp. Its muzzle was stained red with blood, pulled back from large gleaming teeth. Something ragged and fleshy was hanging from those mandibles. Blood tinged saliva dripped in long, ropy gobs from its bared teeth.

"Oh Jesus help me," David breathed, seeking a strength he knew he did not possess on his own. 

But it was the eyes that made David believe he would never see another sunrise again. Powerful green eyes, like glowing emeralds embedded inside the creature's skull watched him curiously. The lids narrowed to slits and it let loose a mighty roar. The sound was deafening, forcing David back as he tried to cover his ears and keep the axe in hand. He could hear the sounds of a lion and bear in that ungodly release, a sound that was out of alignment of with the rest of the natural world. And then he looked down at its human like hand.

There was a bunched up length of cloth, white and stained to crimson black. He could see the bright blue number 7 on the ragged fragment of what had been his son's shirt. David felt the fear fall away from him and rage fill every fiber of his being. His mouth worked open and shut silently as he shook his head, the cry of anguish building up to match the bellow of this thing before him. They stood there for only a second, facing each other as two mortal enemies.

"My boy," David wheezed.

The thing opened its maw and hissed.

"MY BOY!" David screamed, his whole body tensed and thrown into the howl of pain, "YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

David raised the axe into the air and charged forward. The creature recoiled back as though to run in fear, but it was only then that David realized his mistake. It wasn't giving him ground, it was back stepping for room. Room to lurch forward. It leapt from the brush with an eerie silence and ease, launching itself at him. The beast caught him in the chest and they both went sailing back towards where he had been standing before. David landed with a hard thud that forced the breath out of his lungs and nearly cracked his ribs.

"You," he gasped as the creature dug tremendous claws into his chest, "You fuck-"

His words were cut off as the beast snapped its jaws together over his throat and began tearing. Violent jerks and pulls, like those of a rabid dog feasting on his evening meal severed most of the tendons and meat from David's neck and head within a few seconds. He beat his hands mercilessly at the creature's head and shoulders. In a crazy moment of clarity, he realized that his axe had been taken from his hand and was now embedded blade first into the wet ground. Strangled gurgles and watery screams filled the winter wind for a few moments more before David fell out of this world, his last thoughts only of his son.

The forest heard one final meaty rip and the brutal snap of bone before the world fell silent again, save for the thunder overhead, followed by a long, triumphant roar that became a lonely howl.

***

"Buster," Dr. Catalina Hughes said as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, "Is one sick dog."

On the wide examination table she held the golden retriever's head in her hands. The dog's nose was cool and soothing even through her latex examination gloves, his soulful brown eyes looking up as though to question her. She stroked the pure bred animal's blond coat of fur as his tail wagged woefully from side to side.

"Poor thing," Eve, her assistant, muttered as she prepped the shot. She looked at the long needle and tapped the side of the syringe as Catalina comforted the whimpering dog.

"It'll be okay," Catalina smiled and scratched behind the dog's ears. Buster nuzzled his snout to her white lab coat as she braced the dog for the injection.

"So, just for the sake of conversation," Eve pressed the long needle to the dog's hindquarters and gently inserted, "How are you doing?"

Catalina eyed Eve through her glasses, "Is this really the time for this?"

"Come on, Cat," Eve pressed the plunger and injected the dog with the vaccine, "It's been two months now. Seriously, are you feeling any better?"

Buster tried to move but Catalina held him down, stroking his head reassuringly, "Divorce isn't something you get over quickly..."

"Are you gonna sue him for alimony?" Eve cocked her brow as the last of the clear fluid passed into the dog's body, "Please tell me you're going to nail him for alimony."

"No," Catalina shook her head, "If Walter wants to leave that's his choice."

"God," Eve looked at her as she withdrew the needle and applied a wad of gauze to the point of entry, "You're too nice, Cat."

"I don't pay you for personal advice, you know," the doctor smiled as Buster licked her hand.

"That's all free of charge," Eve smiled, her brown eyes filled with mischief.

"Aren't I lucky?" Catalina rubbed her nose against the side of Buster's head. The dog replied by lapping at her ear, tickling her.

Two months ago, the day before their tenth wedding anniversary, Walter Hughes had come home from his blossoming reality office in the city and declared that he was leaving Catalina for his business partner, Sheryl Chirique. Catalina had thought it a cruel joke at first, but when Walter began packing his bags she realized he was serious. Their marriage had been rocky for certain, but she never expected him to up and leave her.

News spread quickly, and all she seemed to ever hear about was Sheryl Chirique. Her incredible good looks not withstanding, Sheryl had become the sexual fantasy for almost every man in the small mountain town of Breystaff, California. She was reviled by most of her fellow female neighbors, but no one could deny that selling real estate was a cinch when blessed with a body that most Playmates have to have airbrushed to attain. At the age of twenty-nine, Sheryl had the town of Breystaff, maybe even the entire Siskiyou County by the balls, not to mention Walter.

To say that Catalina was crushed was an understatement. She had no idea that Walter was that unhappy. After thirty-eight years, she had gained a few pounds but she still had a good shape with large firm, pear-shaped breasts and a shapely rear end. Her hair was a bronzed auburn, cut to shoulder length and layered to a sexy perfection. Her elegant amber-framed glasses only added to her unique look, setting her apart from women like Sheryl Chirique through brainy sex appeal.

None of that was apparent to her though. When Catalina looked into the mirror every morning, she saw a moderately pretty woman who was simply growing older by the minute. Her five foot eight frame carried all one hundred and fifty pounds of her weight well, though sometimes she felt like one hundred and twenty of those pounds were invested in her breasts. She knew that she was attractive; or at least had been attractive in the past. She wasn't blind to men checking her out in the grocery stores after the lab coat came off and she was in her civilian clothes.

But that didn't seem to matter anymore.

Catalina knew she had a bookish quality to her that Walter had always whished she would abandon. Sometimes, she wished she could be brazen and bold like Sheryl Chirique, so sexy and demanding of affection, so carefree. But with all the sacrifices made and experience gained in earning the title of "doctor" she felt obligated to dress smart and present herself for the professional she really was. Maybe she worked too many hours but being the most successful veterinarian in three counties required a commitment most couldn't make. If her schedule had been the problem, then Walter had never hinted at that once. He certainly didn't complain when spending her hard earned income on a new motorcycle (which she affectionately nicknamed "Midlife-C" for his sudden need to reclaim his youth at age forty). 

"You know what you need to do?" Eve asked.

"What's that?"

"You need to get laid, doctor," she said flatly.

"Eve Lawrence," she playfully slapped her assistant's arm, "Shame on you."

"Don't act so surprised," Eve laughed, recoiling from the slap, "I know the color of horny when I see it. You need to have sex."

Catalina couldn't deny that Eve had a point. She asked, "Sex? What's that again? Oh, sex is what you have when you're not running your own business and seeing nearly every domesticated animal from rats to horses in the tri-county area."

With a grunt, Eve picked Buster up and sat him down on the floor. She said, "How long has it been for you?"

Catalina shrugged, "Oh, a year and a half-"

"Oh my God," Eve shook her head.

"-since I stopped trying," she finished, "I'd say it's been two years all together. But it makes sense, considering that was about the time he started seeing Sheryl."

"Sheryl Chirique is a walking delivery system for pussy and tits and that's all," Eve remarked callously, "God, Cat. Get out there and find yourself a stud."

"A stud?"

"A hunk."

"A hunk?" Catalina asked doubtfully.

"A boy toy," Eve winked.

"Eve, really..."

"Yes really," Eve nodded as she cleared the examination table. She glanced down at Catalina's crotch and added slyly, "Someone to fill the void in your life, so to speak."

Catalina shook her head as she pulled her latex gloves off, a sad smile on her full lips, "You're assuming a stud or a boy toy would find any fun with an old maid like me."

"When you turn eighty, we'll talk about you being old," Eve rolled her eyes.

Sex and fun?

Catalina could still remember when sex was fun, when she really looked forward to that feeling of excruciating excitement coursing through in heated anticipation. She could recall the electric sensations and erotic delirium that accompanied a good fuck. How long had it been since she felt that way? Certainly before career and family (or lack thereof) got in the way. Most certainly before Sheryl Chirique. 

She knew that she wasn't the most creative lover in the world and maybe she was a bit shy, but Walter had never once complained. Despite her best efforts to focus on her work, the last few years had seen her mind drifting to sex a lot more than she wanted to. When things were fine between her and Walter, it didn't matter much. Sex was a given that she simply took for granted. But when he started drifting away from her, she realized just how insatiable she truly was. 

'I handled it better than Walter, though,' she thought grimly, 'But God knows there's temptation...'

She had first noticed how horny she really was in Ray's Supermarket shortly after Walter had ceased their sex life. Young men in the aisles would pass her, their eyes hungrily looking her over and admiring her. She would feel that familiar arc of sexual excitement at their frank appraisals of her body. She figured she was just enjoying the hyper-accelerated sex drive most women acquire in their thirties and forties. If she had been subconsciously tempted while under the illusion of a monogamous marriage, she had resisted easily.

As time wore on, her increasing desires sprang forth with a vengeance. She went so far as to try and seduce Walter with sexy lingerie purchased at the Fredericks of Hollywood in Redding, even offering to let him videotape their sex. He seemed so disinterested, and that had hurt her to no end. Every romantic and flat out blatant sexual advance was met with apathy or excuses or both. In retrospect it was all so ridiculously clear to her. Walter had taken a younger lover, someone who was new and exciting. Someone who looked like the Greek bombshell that was Sheryl Chirique. Why would he want someone like Catalina when he had Sheryl?

"I don't know," Catalina sighed and leaned against the wall, her hands in her coat pockets, "I mean, who am I going to date around here anyway?"

"What about that one guy?" Eve washed her hands in the sink, "The salesman from Portland your mom set you up with?"

"Ken?" she looked at Eve incredulously, "The man asked me to marry him after three dates."

"Hey, remember Rod Stewart and Rachel Hunter?" Eve said, "He saw her in a video, wrote a letter and asked her to marry him."

"Can you blame him?" Catalina smiled half-heartedly, "Have you seen that video?"

Catalina was not ready to jump back into marriage yet, let alone a serious relationship. Her divorce from Walter had been quick and painless (painless being a relative term, mind you) as far as divorces go, everybody leaving with what they come in with. Even then, she hurt. But she had tried to move on. The first step to recovery had come in the form of Ken Underwood.

Things had gone fine for a while, but when Ken's sudden proposal had come out of the blue one night after dinner, she knew it was time to part company with him. The need move on or not, she wasn't ready. Getting over Walter was hard enough, but the brash antics of Ken Underwood only made things more complicated.

Ken was a good man, a well-known tractor salesman for John Deere who had lost his wife and daughter to a car accident. He was nice almost to a fault, his insistence on strict chivalry wherever they went more a nuisance than a turn on as their relationship progressed. He had wanted to take their relationship to the sexual level, but something made Catalina hold back. As much as she wanted to satisfy her needs, she knew Ken wasn't the man.


Lycanthrope Ch. 01



And God, how she longed to satisfy those needs.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said to Eve, "Maybe I'm just going crazy."

"What do you mean?"

"I just-" she sighed, hesitating to continue.

"Come on," Eve nudged her, the younger woman grinning from ear to ear, "Come on, tell your toadie what's going on..."

"I just think my body is crazy," she admitted, her voice lowered almost to a whisper, "I mean, lately all my dreams involve sex..."

"The best dreams always do," Eve commented.

"Sometimes after I go shopping," Catalina couldn't believe she was confessing all this to her assistant, but kept talking anyway, "I have to change my panties because I've gotten so horny looking at the cashiers or the football players out at the high school on my way home."

"Well that's natural, Doctor Hughes," she laughed, "Don't you know that's called 'animal instinct'? As a vet, you should know all about that."

Catalina gasped and looked down, a sudden pressure on her left leg. Buster was clamped on her thigh, his tongue lolling out as he humped her vigorously. She shouted, "Buster!"

Eve laughed as Catalina ushered the dog away, "See? Even Buster has animal instinct."

"And I'll bet he gets laid more than I do," Catalina added.

"That's a crime," Eve shook her head and pulled Buster back, kneeling down and scratching behind the dog's ears, "Seriously, you should go and just have some fun."

"Maybe," she shrugged and glanced at the clock above the window looking out into the back of the property, "We better get Buster back to his owner."

"Travis Goldsmith," Eve said, "He's a real cutie. You'd like him."

"Eve," she sighed.

"I dated him in high school," she pressed on, "He's just what you need..."

"Stop it," she laughed as she opened the exam room door.

"Animal instinct," Eve reminded her as they clipped the small, silver leash chain to Buster's collar.

"Okay," Catalina waved her off.

"Doggy style," Eve whispered.

"Knock it off," she stepped into the hall, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Go get some..."

Catalina ignored her, a smile surfacing across her lips as Buster eagerly plowed ahead, pulling the leash tight against her grip.

***

Travis Goldsmith was twenty years old and home from Southern Oregon University, his freshman year nearing it's conclusion. Though he had the appearance of a dedicated quarterback at 5' 11" and weighing in at 235 pounds, Travis was actually an education major. He hoped to someday teach history, his favorite subject. Though he might not have looked it, his brains were more than a complimentary match for his brawn. 

He wasn't an Adonis by any means, lacking a lot of the muscle definition so popular with today's "attractive" male. Yet, he was muscled in a more subtle sense, carrying enough extra weight to give him a stocky sex appeal. His eyes were brown and soulful, framed by a kind yet rugged face that suggested he might have been just as at home chopping wood behind an isolated cabin in the woods as he would have been in front of a classroom full of kids. His look was capped off by dark blonde hair, a shade that grew more and more dark with each passing year.

He sat in the waiting room of the Breystaff Animal Hospital, his Michigan Wolverines baseball cap in one hand as the fingers on the other hand drummed nervously over the magazine rack. He looked out the large bay windows of the waiting lounge. Snow was spinning lightly in the air outside, mixing with rain and sleet. It had been a half hour since Eve had taken Buster back to the examination room. Buster had been his dog since his freshman year in high school, and when the dog taken ill two days ago Travis had nearly been nearly worried sick himself.

The double doors behind the front desk opened and Buster trotted out into the waiting room, his coat shiny and his tongue lolling out wildly. 

"Buster," he smiled and knelt down to pet the dog, "How you doing?"

"He's going to be fine," Catalina handed the leash to him, "He has a mild case of what equates to the doggy flu."

"Is that all?" Travis stood up and faced her.

"We gave him a vaccination shot against it," she motioned to his right hindquarter, "So he might be sore for a few days, but otherwise he'll be fine. Just make sure he gets plenty of liquids."

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes," Travis held out his large hand to her. Catalina was surprised at how his grip was so gentle and yet so firm. Her slender hand almost disappeared in his shake, and once again she found herself feeling horny and needy. She looked him over as he turned to grab his jacket, admiring his sturdy, powerful frame and the large pectoral muscles behind his t-shirt. The boy was a moose that much was for certain. But my God, what a sexy moose. She averted her eyes as he turned back to face her. He smiled, her hand still latched on to his.

Catalina was seized with overwhelming urge to not let go of him and to guide his hand to her breast. She wanted him to fondle her, to take her clothes off and feel her tits with those rough palmed hands. In a matter of a few seconds, she entertained an entire sexual scenario with Travis, everything from the first attentive kiss to the grand finale of an earth shattering orgasm as she rode atop his young body.

"Dr. Hughes?" Travis smiled, his deep voice awkwardly shy.

"Yes?" she replied, jolted from her fantasy. She would not have been surprised at all to find her glasses steaming up as she held onto his hand.

"My hand?" he asked.

"Oh," she laughed and released him, pushing her glasses up her nose and recoiling back sheepishly, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured her, though his eyes were both curious and uncertain of her.

"Spaced off there for minute," she said, cursing herself for such a moronic slip in professionalism. She hadn't had a slip like that in how many years now? Catalina composed herself and stepped back to the receptionist's desk.

"I hope I didn't keep you here past your normal hours," Travis slipped his black leather jacket on, a true compliment to his loose fitting jeans and white shirt. Catalina could not deny he looked damned good in the jacket.

"No no," she waved him off, "Anything for a dog in need."

Travis put his cap on and stepped outside into the snow, "Well then. Have a good evening."

"You too," she smiled and waved. Once the door had closed, she walked over and engaged the dead bolt, flipping the switch for the neon "OPEN" sign outside off. Catalina sighed and chastised herself as she leaned against the door.

"Very smooth," came the amused voice of Eve from behind her, "Nice."

Catalina turned around, still propped against the door, "Was it that bad?"

"No," Eve shook her head, unable to hide her smile, "Well, let me put it this way. When he and I went to school together, I made a drunken pass at him one time after homecoming in which I took off my shirt and asked him to play with my tits right before I threw up six hot dogs and a beer on him. So, by comparison, very smooth, Doc."

"Oh God," Catalina groaned.

"You going to his parent's party tonight?"

The doctor sighed. Paul and Mary Jo Goldsmith were the town's most upstanding business people. They owned the supermarket out in the north end of town, a staple in many of the locals' monthly expenditures (despite the obvious price gouging). Every winter, they held a small get together of fellow entrepreneurs and other movers and shakers (if there truly was such a thing in a small city such as Breystaff) for some good natured ass kissing. To most of the common folk in town, it was a hideous practice of self-indulgence and another example of self-proclaimed "local royalty." As Catalina was a respected and rather wealthy doctor, she had an automatic invite.

"Do I have to?" she asked.

"Yes," Eve told her, "And further more, you should try and take someone home from the party."

"That's all I need," Catalina rolled her eyes, "Gossip."

"Be discreet."

"No such thing in small towns."

"There's always a first time..."

"I shouldn't."

"If you won't do it for you, do it for me," Eve begged.

"What?"

"You owe it to women everywhere to reassert your sexual standing, Doc!"

"No."

"Do it or I'll whine until you agree..."

"I can fire you."

"Please please please..."

Catalina threw her hands up, "Okay, okay. I'll go. But I can't promise anything."

"Maybe Travis can promise you something?"

"Eve," she laughed, "He's in college. He's twenty years old."

"Your point?"

Catalina opened her mouth to respond, but found no argument forthcoming. As she thought of his attractive body and that sexy smile, she realized she had no point.

"I'll go," Catalina said.

"Good," Eve nodded and slapped the counter top, "That's my girl."

"I'll go," she said again.

***

Mary Carson waited by the window in her living room as night began to claim the dusky sky. Snow had been falling steadily since four and by the words of the weatherman on Channel 10, it would turn to a blizzard before morning. David and Michael should have been home by now. She crossed her arms over her breasts, rubbing the material of her thick, warm sweater closer to her body. She shivered anyway. There was something wrong and she knew it.

She sat on the couch for another fifteen minutes, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Her impulse to call the police was strong and powerful, but she also didn't need a lecture about patience from David when he got home. She told herself that he would be coming home any moment. She would see the red Dodge Ram pulling up to the house within minutes, and out of it would come her husband and her son. There would be a large load of wood in the back of the truck and a triumphant smile on David's face.

A half hour later, when none of that came to pass, she picked up the phone and called the police. Lectures be damned, she was scared to death.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, "Yes, I have an emergency."

***

Catalina walked through the crowd of people, smiling and showing off her new black party dress. She was scared to death, though her expression was anything but. Eve's advice to take someone home sounded good in theory, but in practice it was an entirely different animal. She knew practically everyone here. The thought of taking home someone she knew from this group of people didn't exactly appeal to her. She hungered for younger, sweeter meat. She wanted someone who could keep up with her, who could satisfy her wants and desires.

Someone like Travis Goldsmith.

"Cat," Paul Goldsmith touched her shoulder. She turned to face the grocer and de facto community leader of Breystaff. He looked a lot like his son, the same handsome every man looks but with a little less hair and little less weight. In fact, Paul looked to be the skinny version of his son weighing in at a total of 120 pounds soaking wet. He was dressed in one of his impeccably nice suits, a neutral number that complimented his dark looks.

"Paul," she shook his hand, "How are you tonight?"

"I'm doing well," he smiled and guided her through the crowd, "And you?"

"Busy as always," Catalina replied, sipping her wine glass, "We've got people coming in from three counties now."

"Must be very profitable," he commented, the Goldsmith equivalent of a subtle hint regarding her yearly gross. 

Catalina nodded, not giving him an inch, "Very profitable."

"I'm sure it is," he smiled, still hinting.

"I love what you've done with the place," Catalina smiled, changing the subject. The five-bedroom house occupied by the Goldsmith family was luxurious and spacious, the sitting room more of a banquet room than anything else. Dozens of guests mingled and created a pompous ambience that Catalina found both oddly humorous and embarrassingly stifling. But she couldn't deny the warm appeal of the soft lighting and the tasteful décor.

"Mary Jo deserves all the credit," Paul wasted no time recovering from his disappointment. She knew he was dying to know how much she made, but Catalina was nothing if not privacy-minded. She asked, "How is Mary Jo?"

"Wonderful," he said, "Mingling somewhere and making her rounds. You know Mary Jo."

In point of fact, she had only met Mary Jo one time at a Christmas party. Other than that, she had only seen the busy body out and about as she drove through town, spreading the gossip and getting the latest scoop on local dirt. Catalina supposed that the higher a person went in life, the more aware they had to be of the dirt they stood on. Sometimes, Mary Jo Goldsmith acted as though the people in lower income brackets were just that and nothing more. Dirt.

She navigated the crowd of guests and smiled a series of polite greetings and fake pleasantries as Paul talked her ear off about Mary Jo and the wonderful job she had done in hiring the decorators who graced them with their magic. After fifteen minutes of his babbling, the idea of taking her eyeballs out and stuffing them in her ears so she wouldn't have to see or hear Paul Goldsmith anymore became something of an attractive option. 

And then she saw him. Standing in the corner of the large room, looking uncomfortable and like he would have rather been anywhere else at that moment was Travis Goldsmith. He was smartly dressed and looking sexy hell. Catalina smiled to herself and interrupted Paul, saying, "Isn't that Travis?"

"Yes of course," Paul grinned and led her over to him.

"Dad," Travis smiled and then looked at Catalina, his eyes surprised.

"Travis, you remember Dr. Hughes," Paul said. 

"Hello again, Doctor Hughes," Travis smiled as he stared into a pair of the most beautiful emerald eyes he had ever seen. He had tried not to be bluntly rude back at the animal hospital, but upon seeing her piercing green eyes again he couldn't help it. He said, "Good to see you again."

"Likewise," Catalina said and offered him her hand. She looked to Paul and said, "Travis brought his dog in today."

"Oh?" Paul looked at his son, "Everything is okay, yes?"

"Yeah, Dad," he rolled up the sleeves of his silky blue dress shirt, "Gave Buster a shot that did the trick."

Travis took her soft, warm hand in his. He felt a little flutter in his heart as he looked into the deep eyes of this sexy older woman. He had known her for years and yet never really noticed until now just how beautiful she was. Her eyes seemed to radiate and sparkle through the corrective lenses of her glasses.

A subtle hint of lavender perfume drifted past his nose as they shook hands again, this time Travis being the one who was "spacing out". His head spun slightly as he drank her in, trying his best to admire her shapely figure hidden behind the simple yet elegant black dress. A gold necklace was draped around her neck, hanging down to the modest amount of cleavage revealed by the classy dress. Hanging from this delicate chain was a small gold dolphin.

Travis was startled back to reality when he felt a tug and realized that he was still holding her hand. He laughed, "Sorry, doctor. My mind is a million miles away tonight."

"I can understand," Catalina nodded, remembering her own indiscretion during their previous handshake. The mental image of his hands on her naked breasts flickered across the backs of her eyeballs again, making her heart jump.

"Travis here is studying to be a history teacher," Paul said proudly, "He's managed all A's so far."

"That's impressive," Catalina said, "Most students have a difficult time adjusting to the rigors of college life."

"Well, not having a life helps tremendously," Travis smiled wryly. They shared a laugh over this, but Catalina couldn't believe that Travis was the kind of man to stay in the dorm rooms and study. Especially with so many eligible young women to flirt with.

From behind them, Mary Jo cleared her throat politely.

"Paul, the wine cellar door is jammed. Would you mind?" Mary Jo tapped her husband on the shoulder.

"Excuse me for a second," Paul nodded to Catalina, "I leave you in the very capable hands of our nations most promising historian." 

Paul hurried away with his wife, leaving Travis and Catalina alone in the corner. There was an awkward silence between them as the party continued on at a steady keel, the overlapping concerns of the upper end of middle-America paramount to discussion. Travis leaned against the wall, his powerful arms folded across his chest and smiled. Catalina took a wine glass from a passing caterer and sipped it. She had a feeling she would need several more just like it before the night was through.

"Any particular period in history you're specializing in?" she finally asked.

"Actually, right now it's all pretty generalized world history. Everything from the seeds of creation to the current chaos in the middle east."

"That's a lot to cover," Catalina said, "Do the historians have a better idea of how this whole mess started, or are they just as clueless as the scientists?"

Travis tilted his head, "Well, they offer two schools of thought. Creationism vs. evolution, though I think that's an argument more suited to the philosophy department."

"Which do you subscribe to?" she asked, knowing damn good and well that one of the most deadly conversation killers was religion. It was almost as deadly as politics. But the words had already left her mouth and could not be recalled.

"Well," he looked at her thoughtfully, "I like to think of it as walking through a forest of untouched growth and suddenly finding a clearing with a perfectly built hundred-room mansion, complete with a solarium and garden area."

Catalina sipped her wine, listening intently.

"I mean did that mansion just evolve from the trees and metals in the soil? Or did someone build it? Either way, it's a mystery to the ants running around in the bushes near the foundation."

"Us being the ants?"

"If there was ever a better description," he smiled.

"Good point," she allowed. She was surprised to actually be enjoying her conversation with Travis. She had been taken with his unassuming good looks, but to find him so philosophical and intelligent made him even more attractive to her. She asked, "So what are you doing to keep yourself busy through winter break?"

"Actually, I'm doing odd jobs around town. I'm supposed to go out to the McKenzie farm tomorrow morning and clear some brush, provided the snow doesn't ruin everything. It's grunt work, but I need the cash," Travis said and took another drink of his water. He could feel his mouth drying up as his body responded to the fluid form of Dr. Catalina Hughes. He summoned all his strength in a desperate attempt not to look at the soft swells of Dr. Hughes's breasts poking out above the neckline of her dress. But he was almost hypnotized as they rippled with her subtle movements and shifting of weight from one leg to the other. 

"I remember how much of a struggle money was for me in college," Catalina recalled. Travis looked up from her breasts and averted his eyes across the room, a furious blush rising in his cheeks.

"Tuition ain't cheap," he nodded. 

"Well, you seem to have matters well in hand," she touched his arm with a beautiful smile. She graced him with a kind laugh that made her breasts shake even more.

"For the most part," Travis said, "I have a long way to go, yet."

"If you're looking for extra work," Catalina suggested. "There's a backyard full of overgrowth behind the clinic." 

"Sounds like fun," he smiled.

"My assistant, Eve, won't have anything to do with manual labor. I can't fire her over it because she's too damn good at her job," Catalina joked, "But if you're interested, I could really use the help. I can pay you fifteen an hour, plus lunches?"

"You got a deal, doc," Travis agreed immediately. He knew deep down he wasn't just jumping at the exceptionally generous pay. He wanted to be around the doctor more than he probably should have.




Lycanthrope Ch. 01



"Stop by the clinic tomorrow afternoon," Catalina suggested, "We'll square everything away then."

"Thanks Dr. Hughes, I'll be there," Travis smiled, though this time he could barely bring himself to meet her eyes. He thought his heart might explode, provided his cock didn't beat it to the punch.

"It's Catalina or Cat," she said with another smile and walked away. Then a little shiver ran through her as she felt his eyes on her backside. She thought of what Eve had told her to do. Her heart and mind were conflicted on the issue. He was only a boy, barely a man at that. Even as she debated, she began to sway her hips slightly as her sex became heated and slick. She considered stepping outside as her nipples erected inside her bra and threatened to embarrass her.

"I gotta get out of here," she whispered to herself and grabbed another glass of wine, "What the hell am I thinking?"

***

Travis couldn't help but watch her walk away. He was sad to see her go, but he had no idea how he could have kept her attention for much longer. She was a sophisticated woman, way out of his league and probably considered too old for his age. Beyond all that, she was a professional doctor and not someone given to flirting with men younger than her. Still, that didn't stop him from resting his eyes on her shapely ass as she crossed the room and grabbed another glass of wine.

"I gotta get a grip," he loosened his tie and wiped his forehead, "Wow." 

He soon realized that he was tailing her around the house as she mingled, watching her as casually as he knew how. He couldn't explain why he was so enamored of her all of a sudden, but he knew that his fascination wasn't simply summed up by a crush. The slowly swelling erection he had nurtured over the course of the evening was a sign of that, as were his constant fantasies about her. He was lusting after her, as wrong as that might have been.

Every so often, she would turn around and catch him off guard. Their eyes would meet and there would be a shared look of shyness and appreciation. Travis would wave a small salute to her and then disappear into a doorway if he could. Catalina, for her part, simply smiled back at him, her eyes conveying so much more than she could ever say. Travis wondered if he was just reading into it or if she was actually interested in him.

Around ten o'clock, as the party hit its stride Travis felt the need to urinate badly. He slipped away, having lost Catalina in the growing crowd of people. He figured she might have gone home, or was outside smoking with his parents. A mix of rain and snow pounded mutedly on the roof of the second story as he walked down the hall. He reached for the brass doorknob of the bathroom door and then stopped. 

Through the sliver of open doorway, he could see Catalina in the bathroom. Travis tried to pry himself away, feeling both aroused and guilty for watching her. And then he saw Dr. Hughes slip one of her dark shoes off and lift her leg up, placing a foot on the toilet lid. Travis's eyes grew wide as he watched her slide her dress up to the top of her thigh high nylon. He felt his groin tingle as he saw her smooth white skin above the dark silky nylon leg band. Then he watched her stretch the leg band and pull the shiny material higher up her thigh. When she was satisfied she put that leg down and lifted the other foot.

This time Travis got a view directly up her dress to her red silk panties. Travis's cock sprang to full erection as he watched her adjust the other nylon. Suddenly she lifted her head and looked directly at him. He jumped back as if he had been blasted with a twelve-gauge shotgun and rushed toward the stairs. His face was red with the embarrassment as he shook his head, berating himself for his voyeurism.

"Nice," he said dismally, "Very smooth..."

***

Catalina stood in the sitting room, the number of guests fewer than before but still a sizable crowd. She looked for Travis, her heart pounding in her chest like some pagan drum. She was embarrassed that he had seen her in the bathroom, but not for the reasons he thought. She had actually enjoyed the revelation of his spying, but she felt bad he had run off. But then, maybe it was better that he had. With as much as she had been drinking, a lot might have happened right then and there.

She nodded and smiled her way through the party until finally she gave up. With one last fleeting look, she stepped outside onto the vast patio deck of the Goldsmith house. The large eave protected her from the rain and snow falling from the sky, and the cool December air feeling good against her skin. She had been burning up in there, partly due to the alcohol and her nervousness, but mostly because of Travis. She couldn't deny that she wanted him, not anymore.

She only wished she could set his mind at ease.

A faint aroma of cigarette smoke passed her nose and she looked off into the shadows to her left. In the darkness, against the ambience from the powerful klieg light lamp over the driveway creating black silhouettes out of the bushes and small trees that lined the house, she saw a small orange light flare up and then die down. Catalina squinted and hugged her arms across her breasts. 

"Hello?" she asked timidly.

"I needed to get out of the house," Travis said from the darkness.

"Aren't you cold?" she walked over to the far end of the porch, being careful not to trip her high-heeled shoes on the patio furniture. The heels made a loud, rhythmic *thock* sound with each step she took towards him, as though she were marking off time. 

"Nah," he said. She could now make out a little more of his face in the dim light as rain pattered the bushes just behind him.

"Travis," she began.

"It was my fault, really," he said suddenly, "I shouldn't have been peeking."

"No, it's alright," she insisted, "I should have closed the door."

They both were acting apologetic, as though they had done something wrong. Travis supposed that they had, but he suspected that neither of them was truly sorry for the minor event in the bathroom. Catalina knew this to be true, because as they changed the subject to the weather and the painfully fake party they were attending, she wanted nothing more than to hike her skirt up again and let Travis adjust her nylons for her. Up or down made no difference. She just wanted his hands on her.

Inside, music began playing. Catalina recognized the smooth sound of Sinatra and smiled. She peered back over her shoulder and saw people dancing through the large bay window.

"And now the party will hit the home stretch," Travis stood beside her and took a deep drag on his smoke.

"You mind?" she pointed at the cigarette.

"This bothers you?" he asked, "I can put it out."

"No," she smiled, "I was asking if I could share it with you."

"Oh," he grinned and handed it to her, "Be my guest."

She placed the cigarette between her maroon painted lips and inhaled, taking the smoke into her lungs. It roiled inside her and she relished the sensation. Walter had never allowed her to smoke while they were married. He had laid down only a few rules, but the rules he did lay out were ironclad. A harsh ban against cigarettes was one of the major ones. She took another deep drag in a quiet defiance of him and his new woman, Sheryl Chirique.

"What a better way to close out a party than a dance?" Catalina asked and passed the cigarette back to Travis.

"Sinatra is good," Travis shrugged, "But Dean Martin was better."

"That's debatable," Catalina eyed him.

"Dr. Hughes," Travis turned and looked at her, "Would you like to dance?"

Catalina stood back, surprised by his boldness. She said, "No."

Travis was silent, uncertain of what to say. Maybe he had totally read more into her flirting than was really there. After a long moment of torture, she added, "But I'll change my mind on two conditions."

"Okay."

"One... you start calling me Catalina or Cat," she told him, "And two, what happened in the bathroom stays between us. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he smiled.

"You don't mind dancing with an old woman?" Catalina asked, suddenly wanting more than anything in the world to feel his arms around her and to rest her face on his chest. The attention this younger man was heaping on her was inappropriate. She knew that. But she couldn't help herself. Despite all the warnings to the contrary, despite the voice in the back of her mind that screamed "SCANDAL!" she gave in.

"You're not old," he said knowingly.

"Thank you," she smiled shyly.

"Don't thank me yet. I'll try not to break any toes," Travis smiled uneasily, "I'm no Carmine Raguso."

Catalina laughed.

"I'd be more worried about your toes. I couldn't dance a step at my own wedding," Catalina replied as Travis pitched the remains of his cigarette into the wet lawn. Catalina opened her arms to him in the darkness as the chill of the winter night tried to shroud them.

Travis stepped close to Catalina and was immediately surrounded by the sweet smell of her lavender perfume. He inhaled her deeply as her hands and then her arms touched his body. He didn't quite know how to hold her, considering the unique nature of their dancing. He knew his erection was going to be there whether he liked it or not, so he decided to keep her at a modest distance.

"I don't bite, Travis," she whispered and pulled him close to her in a very intimate embrace. He could feel her soft breasts against his chest as her arms held him tight to her. When she laid her head on his shoulder he knew that he was lost. He was mortified when he started to become even more excited. But when he tried to move his hips back he felt Catalina's thigh press between his legs.

"It's okay," she said, her heart now thundering as her pulse raced. The cold had no effect on her as she smoldered next to Travis. Catalina was very much aware of what she was doing to him and what she was initiating. The slowly hardening cock in his trousers gave her all the sign she needed to indicate how he felt towards her. His breathing was fast and yet controlled, and much like her own filled with a wanton lust they couldn't deny. While she knew that she shouldn't be doing this, the reasonable and soothing voice of Eve Lawrence called to her, assuring her that this was okay. 

She placed her hands behind his neck and swayed her body close to his, making her intentions more and more apparent. Travis held her close, not knowing exactly how to handle this. The whole scenario seemed to be surreal, almost like a dream. In fact, he would not have been at all surprised to wake up in his bed at any moment now and find his sheets slick and sticky with semen. He wondered if she even knew what she was doing to him.

Travis took a deep breath. 

Of course she knew what she was doing. If he was wondering about her intentions, as bold as her hints seemed to be, then she must be thinking about his too. But then, perhaps she had drunk too much and was tipsy from the wine. His father had brought out the '75 Merlot, after all. It had a decent kick to it, and it was entirely possible Catalina had tanked herself after three or four glasses. He could feel her hipbone rubbing against his now totally engorged penis. His hard seven and a half inch long cock was throbbing in his boxer shorts, begging to be released and used on the gorgeous doctor.

Catalina couldn't suppress a little moan of pleasure when Travis's hands wandered down her back to the curve of her ass. It felt so good to have a strong body pressed to hers, the muscles hard and obvious against her burning flesh. She felt pressure from Travis's hands as he pulled her hips into his more than obvious hardness. Her body melted into him, their feet no longer moving, dancing with hips and upper body only. 

Travis could feel chills run up and down his spine as Catalina's hand came up and slid through the hair on the back of his head. Delicate fingers caressed him; her finger nails gently scratching his skin. Her softness and sweet smell was exciting him beyond his wildest dreams. His hands slid all the way down to the soft cheeks of her ass. He took one in each hand and massaged them, pulling her into his body.

"Travis," she whispered and gazed up at him.

He looked at her in the dark, his eyes totally adjusted to the shadows. He could see the green in her eyes even now. He put one hand to her face and removed her glasses, gently taking them off and holding them for her. He ran his other hand through her thick, bronzed hair. Catalina parted her lips slightly, lost in his gaze.

"I think I'm going to kiss you, Cat," he said.

"This is wrong," she said weakly, "I'm old enough to-"

"To be my mother?" he asked and then shook his head, "But you're not my mother, Cat."

"No," she agreed and pressed herself into his erection a little more, "I'm not."

"Then tell me when to stop," he said and leaned in, his eyes closing as their lips met together. Catalina knew she had been swooning for Travis since earlier that afternoon, but now she was completely lost in him. Their lips sealed together in a cautious first kiss that was both wildly insane and tenderly sweet. Catalina could feel her blood pumping through every vein as he opened his mouth and snaked his tongue out.

A small moan escaped her throat as she slid her tongue along his, the kiss breaking only long enough to allow a barely audible suckling sound to escape. His hands slid down to her ass and resumed their massage and kneading maneuvers as she rose up against him, her hands resting on his jaw and cheeks. The kiss was slow and filled with the promise of sensual delights if only they would continue on. 

"Travis?" a voice called out from the open patio door.

They froze, both of them terrified of being caught and exposed. They stood there, motionless and breath held back as Paul Goldsmith walked out on the back porch, looking for his son. The older man peered into the shadows of the lawn and the outlying gardens as sleet continued fall. He looked right over into the shadows where Catalina and Travis hid, held tight in each other's arms. Travis thought for a moment they had been caught when his father frowned and squinted, somehow looking directly at him.

'Oh fuck,' Travis rolled his eyes in a silent lament as Catalina's fingers dug into his shirt.

After an excruciatingly long moment, Paul turned and went back into the house. They stood quietly for a few more minutes and then finally breathed. Catalina placed a hand on his chest and laughed to herself as Travis wiped his forehead off. He sighed, "Jesus, that was close."

"Too close," Catalina agreed.

***

He paused suddenly, a new scent very strong in the air.

From behind a large cedar tree he stood still, waiting and trying to understand the smell drifting through the air. It was feminine and powerful, filled with promise and need. He looked with piercing green eyes through the woods, seeking out the source. He was still hungry. The man hadn't fulfilled his need, his craving. Nor had the boy. He needed more.

He could hear voices, very far away and yet near enough to be recognizable. He could hear a man and a woman talking. The closer he drew to them, the more he could sense their attraction to each other. They wanted each other, and they were ready to act. As his paws dug into the snow and propelled him forward into the night, he wondered if he might get there quick enough to taste them both?

He passed the place were he had left the remains of the man. Only a few hunks of gristly meat remained on the torso, exposed and pink to the world. The grass and snow around the feeding were stained red with blood. In his frenzy to feed, to satiate his hunger, he had gone mad and lost track of himself. He remembered tearing and swallowing, the gushing of blood against the back of his throat and the splintering of bone under his teeth.

As he ran, he dimly sorted out these memories. It was all coming back to him slowly. Since it had happened, since the birthing of his former self into this new creature, he had been running on pure instinct. But now he realized he had more to work with. The fleshy lips of his muzzle drew back in a sadistic grin, the kind of expression that made children scream and women cower. The kind of grin that made men shiver and cry.

Faster and faster he ran, now on all fours and gaining speed. He dug into trees as easily as he did the ground for leverage to bolt forward. His maw opened, a line of drool flying back and splattering in the shadows. Powerful muscles worked furiously under his hide as the scent grew stronger. There was something special about this scent too, something unique and familiar.

He ran faster.

***

The party ended around three in the morning.

Travis sat alone in the kitchen, looking out the large, foggy windows of the dining nook as wet sleet finally became frozen snow. The lights were off, only the dim radiance from the living room casting any illumination. His heart was still pounding from his encounter with Catalina. After the near discovery of their dance and kiss, the doctor had gone back inside and seemed to disappear. Travis had looked all over the house but found no sign of her anywhere.

He sighed and walked to the back of the kitchen, his mind spinning with possibilities. By the pantry was the door leading out to the garage. He unlocked it and stepped inside the spacious area, being careful not to trip on the three awkward stairs leading to the concrete floor. He enjoyed the darkness of the room, the silence and peace of it all. He was tired of hearing his parents and their friends whooping it up and having fun.

"Jesus you're all over forty," he muttered as the guests made their way to their respective vehicles outside, their voices reverberating through the flimsy aluminum rolling door, "Act your age."

"Looks like it's gonna snow again," he heard Marty Guttman call out amongst the white noise of the departing party goers, his words more than a little slurred.

"No shit Marty," Travis rolled his eyes and fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket. He lit up and inhaled deeply. After a few moments of enjoying the slight nicotine rush, he slowly walked his way across the room, dodging his father's four-wheeler and his mother's Dodge Stratus, and opened the side entrance. Parked in the outside driveway was his truck, the rust-red body coated with a slight layer of wet snow and slush. The cold air felt good against his skin as he stepped out into the night and shut the door behind him.

He stood under the eave that ran the length of the structure, his eyes wandering across the darkened foliage just beyond the clear-cut lawn of his parent's house. The light from the driveway caught the snow and made it glow in the dark, streaking down to earth in white blurs.

"She's a doctor," he told himself, "A doctor and she's older than you and-" He paused for a moment and sighed as smoke jetted from his nostrils. He finished, "-and you just need to let this shit go."

He watched all the cars leave until there was only one left. A sleek, black BMW sat off the curb just beyond the mouth of the driveway. Travis squinted at the license plate. It read: PETDOC7.

"Must be the good doctor," he said out loud.

The engine started up, trying to catch but never quite getting there. For five minutes the starter tried to get the engine going but failed. Travis walked down the sidewalk to the driveway and then out to the car, leaving a set of lonely tracks in the fresh snow. He braced himself as he walked up to the car, trying to find the right words to say. He could see someone inside, moving around in obvious frustration. He tapped on the window with his finger.

"Need some help?"

The window rolled down and he saw Catalina looking up at him. She sighed, looking both embarrassed and angry, "Damn thing won't start."




Lycanthrope Ch. 01



"I can see that," he smiled, "Good-looking car like this shouldn't be sassing you."

"A good-looking car isn't worth shit when it won't fucking start," she shook her head.

"Give it another try," Travis said.

Catalina turned the key again. Once more the engine tried to turn over. After half a minute of grinding and fruitless spinning, the engine died. With a frustrated laugh, the doctor gave up and tossed her keys into the passenger side seat.

"I can give you a lift home," Travis offered, "It wouldn't be a problem."

Catalina hesitated for a moment and then said, "I- yes, that would be fine."

"Leave your keys with Mom or Dad," he opened the door for her, "I'll check it out in the morning and then bring it over to you. Besides, you've got no chains on your tires and the snow isn't going to let up."

Catalina shivered and hugged her jacket to her body, "Okay."

"Let's go," he smiled, motioning to his truck.

***

A thick fog curled through the night as Travis drove Catalina home. Only the ghostly presence of brightly burning lights, secure over the driveways of homes set back far off the winding road and hidden by the thick growth of trees cast any illumination. The world had turned white in a matter of only a half hour as fat flakes of snow blanketed the ground. The rhythmic dance of the wiper blades across the windshield and the rolling rumble of the chains against blacktop was both comforting and distracting for Travis as he navigated the road, doing his best not think of Catalina and certainly not to think of the kiss they had shared.

"I feel as though I've done something wrong," Catalina said after a while, unable to look at Travis.

"No," Travis shook his head, "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I shouldn't have kissed you," she said quietly.

"You regretting it?"

Catalina almost said she did, but then stopped herself. She hadn't regretted it. Not one little bit. In fact, it was the most exciting and wonderful experience she could recall having in a long time. That single kiss had aroused something deep inside her, a passionate need even more intense than the simple sexual frustrations plaguing her every day. This new need was raw and hot, a monstrously powerful instinct that desired above all else fulfillment. She looked at Travis, her heart throbbing and her sex becoming torturously slick again, "I don't regret it, Travis."

"That's good," he smiled, "Neither do I."

"Really?"

"As I recall," Travis peered out the window into the storm, "I kissed you. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't mean it."

Catalina smiled, "It was a nice kiss."

"Don't worry," he put his hand on her leg and squeezed, "It was a fantastic kiss... and a fantastic dance."

Catalina suppressed a sensual grin, "Maybe we'll have to finish that kiss sometime?"

"As long as we finish the dance too," Travis replied.

She couldn't believe this handsome young man was talking to her like this. What's more she couldn't believe that she was actually talking to him in this manner. It all felt so alien and yet so completely natural and safe. There was something reassuring about the way Travis carried himself, something honest in his shyness and quiet reserve. How many men would have just left it at a kiss without demanding more? How many men would have waited for Catalina to make the next move?

'Not many,' she thought.

"Can I ask a personal question?" he asked as water and slush sprayed up from a huge puddle in the middle of the road, dowsing the windshield and doors.

"Sure." Here comes the big sex question...

"Why veterinarian medicine?"

"Oh," she shrugged, scooting a little closer to him and stretching one arm out over the back of the seat, letting her hand fall loosely at his left shoulder, "Just lucky I guess. My dad wanted me to be a medical doctor, but I like animals more than I like people."

"Yeah?"

"Animals don't carry the same bullshit we do," Catalina said, "They don't hurt for the sake of hurting. I think maybe they're easier to understand."

"That's true," Travis nodded, "I can't imagine any other profession where the patient can lick the doctor and not be sued."

"Or where the doctor can slip a muzzle on the patient when he gets unruly," she added.

Travis laughed at this. He said, "You know, a lot of people pay good money to get licked and muzzled."

Catalina chuckled, "Not around here they don't."

She realized that her fingers were tracing the back of his neck in slow, small circles. It was so natural and easy that she hadn't even noticed she was doing it until he shifted his weight and leaned back. After a moment of embarrassment, she felt her heart slow down a little and discovered that he wasn't shying away or looking at her strangely. Catalina was both frightened and comforted by the closeness and familiarity she shared with this man she hardly knew at all.

"You know," he said, "I've had a really good time with you tonight."

Through a blush she said, "Flattery, flattery..."

Her tone was dismissive, but inside she was relishing every moment of his attention.

"At the risk of sounding desperate and sappy," he added, "You were the most beautiful woman in the house tonight."

"Oh go on," she laughed.

Travis smiled.

"Seriously," she nudged him, "Go on... tell me more."

"I'm telling you," he said, "You were turning a lot of heads tonight."

"Well," she looked down at her free hand, resting neatly in her lap, "I don't know about that."

"I do and I can say th-"

A frame-thundering impact sounded off, followed by a tremendous lurch and thrust forward as something big and heavy struck the front end of the truck. Their seatbelts pulled tight, the shoulder harness of Catalina's belt digging into the skin of her chest and neck. She screamed as the truck suddenly swerved to the right. Catalina's heart jumped into her throat under the sound of squealing tires, struggling to find purchase against the wet, slushy blacktop. Travis worked the wheel over, trying to regain control of the vehicle as sleet caught the light of headlamps and then collided with the windshield.

"Jesus!" he shouted, his foot slammed down hard on the brake pedal.

The truck screeched to a halt as steam and smoke from the burned rubber rose around the windows. Their momentum ceased, the cab rocking back and forth warily on the shocks, the two finally allows themselves to breath. The rumble of the engine suddenly came back into Catalina's range of hearing, as though she had muted the world around her and was now turning the volume back up. She could hear the rapid heaving of her lungs, her breaths short and ragged.

"What the fuck?" Travis whispered.

"What happened?"

"We hit something," he breathed and looked into his rearview mirror and then the side mirrors, "We gotta get off the road."

He swung the truck around and pulled to the shoulder. Catalina looked out the windshield and realized that they had turned completely around in the skid. The road sign a few feet ahead was welcoming them back into Breystaff as opposed to letting them know that they were leaving it. She took a deep, cleansing breath as Travis put the truck in park and switched on the hazard lights.

"There's a flashlight in the glove box," he said to her as he unbuckled his seat belt, "Grab it."

She opened the compartment and pulled the large, black flashlight out. As she handed it to him, she asked, "What did we hit?"

'Please not a person, please not a person...' Travis thought desperately. He said, "Let's go find out."

Snow frosted them instantly as they stepped out of the truck and slammed the doors. Catalina shivered, a thin layer of sheer pantyhose between her legs and the frigid night air. She gingerly navigated the mess of slush covering the road, her high heels never meant for winter action. 

She looked around the front of the truck and stopped, her eyes wide in the headlights. The bumper, grill and hood were partially pushed in from the impact, giving the truck a dilapidated, inverted snarl. Travis shined his light on the damage, searching for any indication of what they had smashed into. He shook his head, "You see anything?"

Catalina looked at the front end of the truck, "Aside from a big dent? No."

"No blood or fur," he sighed.

"Maybe the snow washed it off?"

"Maybe..."

White ice was falling even harder now as they left the truck and walked down the shoulder of the road, the hazard and headlights blaring behind them. Snow and wet gravel crunched under their feet as they slowly searched the ground ahead of the truck for the mystery obstacle, the small pool of illumination from Travis's flashlight waving back and forth systematically. The high heels Catalina wore made her wish she had thought to bring a pair of galoshes with her. As they left the brightness of the headlights she spotted something in the snow out of the corner of her eye.

"Look," she pointed and knelt down. Catalina touched a dark patch of discolored snow. Holding up two fingers she revealed a thick red liquid. She said, "Blood..."

"Oh fuck," Travis muttered and then looked down the road, "Hello!?"

No one answered.

"Hello!?"

The sky lit up quietly, offering a brief view of the frozen world around them. The lightning revealed the glazed evergreen trees lining the road and the shoulder, turning what was once familiar into something twisted and removed from everything she thought normal. In the eerie light, the snowy world seemed cold and hostile like some ghostly reflection of what it should have been.

"Lightning in a snow storm," Travis muttered.

Catalina looked down to her side and saw more blood stained snow, along with large distortions in the fresh pack. It looked as though whatever they had hit had rolled away in the impact. She followed the depressions in the snow, her toes beginning to tingle from the ice and cool air. There was one larger blotch of blood and then she saw it lying half submerged in the drainage ditch that ran the length of the road. 

"Shit," she gasped and jumped back, grabbing Travis's arm tightly. Muted thunder rumbled heavily a few moments later as the lightning ceased and all was dark again save for the flashing lights from the truck and small flashlight.

"Look!" she hissed and pointed.

Travis swung his light around and jumped back himself, a small yelp escaping his throat. Whatever it was, it was at least the size of a grown bear. Matted dark fur dotted with snow bristled off the hulking creature. Curiosity overpowered her fear as she peered down at the animal, inching closer and closer. She tentatively hunkered down at the edge of the ditch and could now hear labored breathing bubbling in the water.

"What is that?" Travis squinted as he knelt down beside her, "Looks like an ape."

"I'm not sure," Catalina shook her head, "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Thank God it wasn't human," he said.

"Definitely not a bear," she muttered and took the flashlight from Travis, shining it down into the ditch. Muddy brown water had submerged most of the creature save for it's broad torso and unusual head. Twigs and snow clung to thick black fur, as it's powerful barrel chest rose and fell.

"Looks like a dog," Travis whispered and the wrinkled his nose, "Smells like one too." 

As impossible as it seemed, Catalina couldn't argue. She shined the light on the head of the strange creature. A powerful snout, like that of a Doberman Pinscher was partially upturned towards the sky. The muzzle was dotted flecks of thick crimson blood and pulled away from the most wicked set of teeth Catalina had ever seen. Set further back on the skull was a set of ears that could only be described as pointedly canine. They were drooped over and limp, but she had no doubt they could prick up at a moment's notice.

"It definitely looks like a dog," she said more to herself than anyone, "But that's impossible."

"Actually," Travis tilted his head to one side, "It looks more like a wolf now that I can see it better."

"This is fucking weird," Catalina wiped the melting snow off her glasses and sat them back on the bridge of her nose.

"Really weird," Travis nodded. His eyes followed the muscular form of the creature's neck down to its broad right shoulder. Cut into the hard muscles of the backside was a serious gash. The skin was split wide and pink, smeared with blood and raw to the elements. Snow turned pink and then red as it landed on the oozing wound. Travis could see thin curls and streams of blood wafting in the water around the creature.

It twitched in a small spasm, causing them both to jump. It was as alien as a Martian in some H.G. Wells novel, and yet so familiar. But it was the sounds the beast was making that set it apart from anything Travis or Catalina had ever known before. The rasp of it breathing and the bubbling of filthy water around its bloody snout made Travis's skin rise into gooseflesh. With each breath came a strong, wild growl that sounded like a cross between the threat of a lion, the rage of a bear and the warning of a wolf. There was feral anger, a deeply rooted heat in the low growls emitting from its throat.

"We need to get it in to the clinic," Catalina said.

Travis laughed. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious," she looked at him, "This animal will die if we don't."

"Cat," he put a hand on her shoulder, "We don't even know what the hell this thing is. I say we drive to the sheriff's office and have them come deal with I, preferably with tranquilizers."

"I can't do that," she said.

"It could be dangerous," he insisted, "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

"No," she conceded, "But all the more reason to help. It's a one of a kind."

"It's a nice idea," Travis said and got up off his haunches, "But no. A wounded animal is a dangerous animal. You know that."

"Travis-" she began.

"Cat, please come on," Travis motioned for her as he walked away.

"It's moving," she said, her voice strained and weak.

"I mean it, come-" Travis paused in his tracks, slowly looking back at her as another flash of lightning seared across the sky, "What?"

Catalina slowly rose to her feet, backing up as the electricity in the sky revealed the world to her again in skeletal nightlight. The creature was indeed moving, the powerful arms flexing and releasing as it struggled to stand on its feet. In another bolt of lightning she saw the legs rise out of the water. They were the hind legs of every canine she had ever seen at the clinic, in a book, on the street or on television. Only these legs were more bulky, stronger and meaner looking. They looked almost human, despite the animalistic design.

"Step back," Travis whispered, "Now, Cat."

Catalina nodded, the blood completely drained from her face. Thunder boomed again, this time like a shotgun blast warning from God. Her hands were shaking as the creature finally righted itself and stood. She jumped as another flash of lightning arced in the heavens. She could see the dark silhouette of a bushy, waterlogged tail between its legs. It asserted itself to a height that had to be over six feet tall, maybe seven. It's breathing was deeper now, more steady and yet far more angry.

"Holy shit," Catalina whispered as she and Travis stepped back towards the truck. Water had run into her coat and soaked her dress to her body as she eased away, chilling her to the bone. If it was some kind of wild dog no one had ever seen before now, she hoped the rules still applied to it as to other canines. She lowered her head and tried to make herself look less threatening. She stifled the impulse to run. A wild dog, a wolf would only give chase and kill her. She couldn't confirm what the fuck this thing was, but it looked like a wolf. That was enough for her.

'Werewolf,' she thought wildly as it began to turn and face them, 'It's a fucking werewolf...'

Feral green eyes regarded her coolly in the dark, as though trying to study her and figure her out. In the last reaches of the head lights, she could make out it's stocky build as it stepped out of the ditch and onto the road. Large, hairy paws tipped with huge claws planted against the pavement. That deep growling had come back, but now it was more direct and violent. Catalina thought of lions and savage creatures from some distant age when men wore animal skins and women were dragged around by their hair.

"Just play it cool," Catalina whispered, "Remember, he's the dominant one."

"Uh huh," Travis nodded, slowly turning and bracing himself for the journey to the door of his truck.

The creature hunched down.

Travis stopped as Catalina backed up next to him.

"He's going to jump," Travis whispered.

The creature watched them intently, licking its chops and maintaining its low growl.

"What's he waiting for?"

"Who cares?" Travis ushered her behind him, "Get into the truck."

"Don't be a hero, Travis," she hissed and pulled him back.

"Just get in the truck..."

"Both of us," Catalina tightened her grip on his jacket.

"Just move it," Travis hissed, his eyes unable to look away from the monster in the road before him.

And then the beast leapt at them. Only it was like no leap Travis had ever seen before. It was as though the thing had been shot from a cannon directly at them. With a loud roar that eclipsed the thunder overhead, it was airborne, slavering jaws open and teeth poised for the kill. Travis shoved Catalina back against the truck as the beast plowed into him, taking him off his feet. There was the sensation of freefalling and then the harsh reality of the windshield cracking under his backside. The air whistled out of his lungs as claws dug into his chest and then pulled.

"Fuck!" he wheezed and dug his fingers into the monster's pelt, pulling on its hair. The creature bellowed as Travis plunged his thumbs into its eyes. It pulled back, head jerked violently into a howl of pure agony as it released Travis from its grip.

Catalina came around from behind the truck, the shovel from the bed gripped in her hands. She swung at the creature's legs, her lips pulled back in a sneer of anger and fear. The spade connected and swept the monsters feet out from beneath it. It fell with a resounding thud and rolled off the hood. She brought the shovel down again on its skull as hard as she could. The metal spade made a comic *bong* sound, the impact reverberating through her arms and torso. The beast whipped around and faced her, the headlights catching the hate in its eyes the way camera might catch red eyes in family pictures.

"Go away!" she screamed and swung again. The beast dodged her attack and lunged forward. She braced herself for a devastating impact, but instead was only knocked to her left as it squeezed between her and the mangled front end of Travis's truck. She heard the fabric of her jacket tear as she was shoved backwards and into the road. The back of her head bounced off the pavement and she lay there, spread eagled for a moment. 

"Cat?!" Travis shouted as he rolled off the hood, "Cat, are you okay?"

"Oh God," Catalina whispered, her eyes spinning in their sockets as snow lighted and melted on his face and chest. She would not have been surprised at all to see little birds and stars circling her head gaily as she sat up.

"Are you hurt?"

"Only my dignity," she winced as she touched the back of her head. As Travis put his hands on her arms and knelt to assist her, she could hear the creature trampling off into the woods. Branches snapped like gunshots and bushes rustled as it sped away from them into the shadows.

"Let's get the fuck outta here," he helped her up to her feet, "It could come back."

"Let's go to the clinic," she said as he escorted her to the truck, "We can take care of it there."

"But-"

"Just do it," she squeezed his hand, "Please."




Lycanthrope Ch. 01



Travis looked at her moment longer before he said, "Okay."

***

In the bushes he waited.

He wasn't exactly sure what had happened beyond being hurt. The pain searing through the back of his shoulder was tremendous, almost overwhelming. He craned his head back to one side and tried to lick the ugly gash.

It was cold.

The whole world felt cold to him. There was no warmth or reason to anything, at least nothing that he could understand. He knew there had been a time when he had been able to understand the subtleties and the words spoken by the people in the road. There was even a part of him that understood the horror of what he had done, and thus he felt true terror. But the instincts could not be satiated. There was no recourse from the violence his heart lusted after.

He hadn't been able to stop anymore than he had been able to stop with the man in the woods, or the little boy for that matter.

When the truck pulled away, he waited for a moment and then began to run.

He had their scent.

He would follow.

***

Catalina flipped on the light in the main surgery room. She and Travis were soaked as they sloshed in and sat down, Travis on the center bed and Catalina on her rolling stool. She took off what was left of her jacket and tossed it aside as Travis looked down at the wounds torn through his shirt. Blood had soaked into the dark blue fabric, and she could see where the skin was broken beneath.

"Let me see that," she stood up and went to one of the overhead cabinets.

"See what?" he asked, gently pulling the torn fabric aside to see if his guts were hanging out.

"Your chest," she pulled the first aid kit out and sat it down on the counter, "We need disinfect that and clean it up."

"It's not bad," Travis shook his head.

"Just take your shirt off," she told him. While a large part of her was slipping effortlessly into a clinical detachment, another part of her was excited to see his bare torso. Catalina shook her head and ripped open the small package of cotton balls. She said, "You're not getting shy on me, are you?"

"No," he said and then took his flannel jacket off.

"Good," she turned around as he unbutton his tattered shirt. Her eyes watched as he pulled the shirt back and revealed the most perfect, thick body she had ever seen. As he pulled the shirt off his arms, she took a moment to marvel at his build. His chest was indeed barreled and beefy, the nipples soft and unassuming. She could see the faint outlines of his abdominals across his stomach. Small stretch marks, faded and pink were scrawled along his sides indicating Travis had probably lost some weight recently.

"Very good," she licked her lips as her glasses fogged a little. She took them off and stood next to Travis, placing a wad of cotton balls over the open mouth of the peroxide bottle. She tilted the bottle over quickly and let the cotton soak for a moment. She said, "Do they hurt?"

He shook his head, "Yeah, but it's not bad."

She looked at the five, wicked inch-long slashes on his chest, the first one torn in just below his right nipple. The following three fanned out over his pectoral muscle to his collarbone and then back down before a small fifth mark just above his left nipple. 

She sat the bottle down, slipped her glasses back on and began cleaning the wounds, first with a warm wet rag. She wiped the blood away, cleaning off the small trails and smears all the way down his stomach to the belt of his pants. She wondered for a brief, hot moment if it would be somehow acceptable to have him take off those pants and clean his pubic area, along with the shaft of his cock and the swollen head she imagined he could offer her.

"I don't think you'll need stitches," she said quietly as she finished with the rag.

"That's a relief."

"This might sting a little," Catalina told him as she applied the wet ball of alcohol-soaked cotton to his wounds. Travis winced as the disinfectant burned in the raw flesh. He sighed and leaned back on his strong arms. Catalina noticed his discomfort, "Sorry."

"No sweat, Cat," he smiled.

As she cleaned his wounds, Catalina found herself becoming more and more aroused. She wanted to touch his body and feel every inch of his flesh. She wanted suck his nipples into her mouth and play with them. She wanted to feel his cock in her hand, to experience that incredible hardness of arousal. A hot, slick yearning burned in her crotch as she mended his wounds, her mind toying with the idea of sucking his balls into her mouth and rolling them back and forth.

A small break of sweat formed on her skin as she finished her work on his chest. Her breathing was picking up faster and faster as she fantasized about Travis, her nipples becoming hard and erect in her bra. She tried to control it, but the sexual urges she had been fighting with for so long seemed to have somehow doubled and come back so much stronger than before. It almost like she had been injected with concentrated horniness, a special elixir that was driving her crazy.

Or maybe it was just being this close to Travis, the sexual tension thick enough to taste on the tip of her tongue. She blinked her eyes and stepped back from him reluctantly. She said, "Just to be safe, I'm going to give you a rabies vaccination."

He looked at her doubtfully, "Would this be done via an oral pill?"

"No," she smiled, "But it's for free."

He sighed, "Okay. You're the doc."

"That's right," she put a hand on his leg and squeezed.

"Hey," Travis frowned, "You are talking about a needle, right?"

"Yes," she laughed.

"Good," he nodded, "I hate suppositories."

"Had many of them, have you?" she eyed him.

"No," he smiled, "But the concept is more than enough for me."

As she opened another cabinet and gathered her equipment, Travis was experiencing a similar attraction to her. He watched her ass move beneath that wet black dress like some kid whose eyes are glued to a dirty magazine. Catalina was so beautiful, and he wondered what it was about him that had led her to be this kind and flirtatious with him to begin with. He felt a warm feeling of security as he watched her, his cock becoming aroused and thick in his boxer shorts.

"Okay," she came back over to the examination bed, "This isn't going to feel great, but it's better than getting rabies."

"Of course," Travis said, "Assuming it had rabies."

"I'm assuming." 

"So what do you think it was?"

"I'm not sure," Catalina rubbed alcohol over the skin of his shoulder, "It was big."

"Big isn't the word."

"Fucking huge?"

"That's more like it."

Catalina smiled.

"You know what it looked like, don't you?" he asked

Catalina didn't want to remember the beast, but the memory came back anyway. From the feral green eyes that glowed to the impossibly human build the creature possessed; it had been a frightening mystery to her. She said, "What do you think it looked like, Travis?"

"A werewolf?" he suggested

She cocked her left eyebrow as she adjusted her glasses. They kept slipping down her nose, and now more than ever it was becoming dammed annoying.

"We're both thinking it," he said, "I mean come on. It looked like someone had crossed a wolf with a pro-wrestler."

Catalina couldn't deny what the thing had looked like. She had been thinking the same thing herself out on the road. The similarities to the classic depictions of a lycanthrope were undeniable. But that was crazy. The whole idea was ludicrous and completely beyond reason. She knew what she had thought she had seen, but as to whether or not that was truth of it all she couldn't be sure. Between her numerous drinks at the party and being so shaken up from the collision she might have seen Chewbacca from "Star Wars" walking around in the rain.

"I'm not sure," she inserted the needle of the syringe into the vaccine bottle and pulled the plunger back, filling the reservoir with the amber tinted fluid, "I'm not sure what I saw."

"I saw a fucking werewolf," Travis said flatly, "This thing walked on two legs like a man but had the features of a wolf."

Catalina cleared the excess air from the syringe and then pressed the needle into his flesh. Travis winced as the vaccine was injected into his body. She said, "Whatever it is, it isn't native to this area."

"I'll buy that," Travis nodded as she withdrew the needle and pressed a couple squares of gauze to the point of entry.

"Well," she placed a band-aid over the gauze, "There's one sure way to tell if it was a werewolf."

"How's that?"

"If you start humping people's legs for no reason, getting fleas and hair everywhere," she laughed, "Then we'll know."

"Anything else I should look for?"

"Trying to lick your own balls. You know, dog stuff."

Travis laughed, "I do that anyway.... Though every time I try to get my legs up high enough to do it I fall off the couch."

"That's just being a man," she patted his cheek.

"And if I should become a werewolf? What's the cure?"

"Old Yeller with a silver bullet."

"Nice," he rolled his eyes, "Thanks. I appreciate that."

Catalina squeezed his shoulders, "I'm sure whatever it was, it was some kind of aberrant or we were just seeing things that weren't there."

Travis looked at her and smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"You're cute when you're in denial."

"It wasn't a werewolf," she insisted and slapped his thigh.

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"How?"

"Because they don't exist," she offered with more than a hint of playful sarcasm.

"Who says they don't?"

"You can't be serious."

"That werewolves can't exist or that you're cute when you're in denial?"

Catalina looked at him, "Both."

"I'm always serious, Cat."

The room was suddenly very quiet, only the occasional clap of thunder of primal winter anger outside sounding off in the distance. Catalina was acutely aware of the large erection growing in the leg of Travis's pants and her own reaction to his display was equal, if not more so to the task. The nectar inside her was heated and cresting the lips of her sex, ready to boil over and claim him as her own.

"We should get out of these clothes," she said.

"And into what?"

'Into bed,' she thought and blushed. She said, "I have some blankets in my office we can wear until the heaters dry everything out."

"Okay," Travis said and stood up, his hands going to his belt buckle, "Shouldn't we turn around?"

Catalina eyed his fingers as they unclasped his belt. "Yes," she nodded. With that, she left the exam room and stepped into her office. From the oak cupboard she pulled two large red and blue flannel blankets. They were warm and inviting to the touch. She kicked her shoes off and pulled the straps of her dress down, trying to wiggle out of the soaked garment. Her mind kept drifting to Travis more and more as she watched the doorway, hoping that he would be there waiting for her, naked and ready.

'I'm insane,' she laughed to herself as she curled her stockings down and tossed them beside her dress. Her panties and bra were equally drenched, so she cast them off and then wrapped herself in the red blanket. Once she had gathered her clothes up, she flipped on the hallway heater and laid the wet mess on the floor to dry, trying to keep her dress as straight as she possibly could. She knew the thing was ruined and probably beyond any help after being exposed to so much snow. Her stockings however had faired better. She didn't see a single runner anywhere.

"Hey Cat," Travis called, "I'm freezing in here."

She stopped at the doorway and tossed him his blanket without looking in, "That should help."

A moment later he stepped out, the blanket wrapped and tied around his waist, his wet clothes in one hand and his boots in the other. After he had laid his clothes out to dry, they went into the waiting room and sat down by the portable heater. Travis pulled his cell phone out of his jacket and called his folks, letting them know he and the doctor were stopped for a while and that they shouldn't expect him any time soon. When his father asked what they had hit on the road, Travis had almost said what he believed with all his heart he had seen. Instead, he told him it was some poor bear out of hibernation early that had straggled off onto the road.

"So now it's a bear?" the doctor eyed him.

Travis turned off his phone, "I don't need my dad thinking I'm crazier than he already does."

Catalina went to turn on the lights, but Travis stopped her. He said, "Let's leave them off. We can see the snow better."

"It's really coming down," Catalina said as they settled into the comfy chairs, side by side. She rested her feet as close to the heater as she could, her toes tingling and singing out as the warm air caressed her frigid skin. The snow outside had created a ghostly light that flooded into the room through the large bay windows in cool pastels coloring from blue to gray and to black. It felt surreal, almost like a dream to her. She marveled at the fat flakes of snow as they jetted to the ground, "Really coming down."

"The first big one of the year," Travis nodded, "We'll probably see a good six inches tonight."

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Travis nodded and then added after a moment, "You give it some competition I think."

"Sweet talker," she grinned, loving every minute of his affections and yet feeling more frightened than she ever had before.

"Just the truth."

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Catalina asked shyly.

"Are you kidding?" Travis gushed as he stared into her beautiful emerald eyes.

"Beautiful enough to kiss again?"

Travis looked over at her, his heart thundering with excitement as she leaned close to him, her eyes locked on his. Catalina's lids began to close, covering her vision in an expression of complete trust. He moved closer, tentatively touching her lips with all the tenderness and warmth he knew how to give. She was sweet, her breath hot against his as her tongue grazed his lower lip.

"Fuck it," Catalina breathed and pulled him to her. 

Travis responded as her lips mashed to his, her tongue snaking into his mouth. He slipped his hands under her blanket and wrapped his arms around her warm, naked body. She moaned as he forced her tongue out of his mouth in a single slick maneuver and pushed his into hers. His mouth filled with the wanton lust of her being, a wet acquiescence to continue as she suckled on his tongue. He could feel her nipples almost burning into his naked chest as his penis throbbed against the coarse fibers of his blanket, threatening to release his cum. 

Catalina pulled away and leaned back on the plush chair, pulling Travis with her. She drew his mouth back to hers quickly. 

Travis was bent over uncomfortably so he moved until he was kneeling on the lounge next to her thighs. His hand held her face to his as her body writhed beneath him. Catalina reached up and gently took his right hand in her own, guiding him down to cup her soft, full breast. A moan escaped his lips when he felt her warm flesh under his callused palm. He kneaded the soft mound lovingly before finding her erected nipple. His head was spinning so fast that he thought he might pass out. Sensations he had only dreamed about during their brief encounter on the back porch were coming to fruition with all the speed and force of a hurricane. 

Catalina moaned into his mouth as he began to squeeze the hard nub between his fingers. He rolled the tight buds back forth between his fingertips, pulling and teasing them. She moved under him so that his knees were now between her open legs. Her legs wrapped around his back and pulled him down until he was lying on her, his erection pressing into her naked groin. Then she began to push his head further down. 

Travis got the message and began to kiss down the soft expanse of her neck. Her skin was smooth and sweet against his tongue. He inhaled her delicate lavender perfume as he kissed and licked the milky skin leading down to the nape of her neck and shoulder. He reached the crook of her neck and he bit her gently. Catalina dug her fingers into his backside and moaned as goose bumps birthed all over her body. He moved lower, across her collarbone and down until he reached the impressive swell of her left breast. 

"Suck my nipples, Travis," Catalina gasped, finding her voice in the tumultuous sea of emotions carrying her away, "Suck them..."

Travis opened his mouth and sucked one hard nipple inside. He bit it gently and teased it with his tongue, bringing moans of encouragement from the excited doctor. When that nipple was hardened to the extreme, he began to kiss across the divide of her chest to the other mound. He couldn't believe how soft and smooth the flesh of her breasts felt under his lips, how silky and perfect. The other nipple was already hard and pulsing as he took it into his mouth. Once the nub was glistening wet with his saliva, he pressed her tits together, trying to suck both nipples into his mouth at the same time.

"Oh yes," she whispered, licking her lips.

Catalina began to push on his shoulders, forcing him to let go of her breasts and move downward. He kissed across her stomach, using his tongue to tickle her flesh and leaving a shiny trail of saliva in his wake. Below her navel, he kissed across to the bone of her hip and back to the other side, teasing her and making her wait for it. He felt her hips squirming under him, her hands squeezing his shoulders in hot anticipation. 

"Please," she begged. Catalina dimly registered that she was in fact begging him to go down on her, that she had relinquished her control of the moment to him. It was a frightening feeling to experience all at once, and yet exhilarating. She imagined herself freefalling, plummeting through naked air and letting herself go. She didn't mind having no control. In fact, she was beginning to love it. Travis was teasing her to the point of madness and she wouldn't have traded a moment of it for anything in the world.

He kissed down her stomach in slow, purposeful laps until he reached her shaven pubic mound. Travis inhaled her scent like a man sitting down a fine meal, relishing her sex as his mouth began to water. He tickled the opening to her cunt with the tip of his tongue before moving to the sides of her lips. There he ran it down the grove between her outer lips and her thigh and back up again before moving to the other side. 

"Oh Jesus," Catalina cried, amazed at her young lover's skill. She reached for his head and tried to bring it to her throbbing vagina but felt him resist. Catalina smiled and laughed under her breath as he continued his tease.

Travis looked up at the flushed, beautiful face of Catalina Hughes and smiled. He felt an almost giddy jolt of excitement when she smiled back and touched his cheek with one finger. It was such a simple and gentle gesture, a display of affection he hadn't received from previous lovers. 

Travis looked down at her waiting sex and licked his lips. The muted blue light filtering through the large windows gave her moist pussy an almost surrealistic glow. The inner lips were swollen and eagerly protruding from her smooth outer lips. He was reminded of the delicate petals of a flower, gorgeous and perfect. He discovered her inner lips were large, already very swollen with blood and slick with her feminine juices. Travis licked and suckled around her radiating folds, working his way up to the hood of skin covering her clit. 

With two fingers he opened her up and began licking at the hood, giving her long, slow laps with his broad tongue. After a few minutes the hood was away from her button and he lavished it with equal passion. Her pea-sized clit was smooth and delicious against the buds of his tongue. As he worked his ministrations on her, her juices began to seep out of her pussy and trail down to the beginning of her ass. He opened her wider and watched the clear juice overflow and trickle out of her, slowly disappearing into the crease of her buttocks. 




Lycanthrope Ch. 02



EDITOR:

MIRIAM BELLE

CREATIVE CONSULTANTS:

MIRIAM BELLE & SIMPLY_CYN

"TRACKS IN THE SNOW"

***

It didn't just snow.

The small city of Breystaff, along with the neighboring towns of Castleton Springs, Mt. Shasta and Weed, was blanketed with three feet of pure, virgin snow in a matter of eight hours. During the early morning hours of December 20th, Pacific Power reported that seven transformers had blown out from lines being pulled under the weight of the snow. Most of the people in Breystaff woke up to find their alarm clocks silent and their televisions dark.

The morning sun did little to penetrate the thick, roiling clouds hovering over the broad stretch of Siskiyou County. As the hour rolled to eight, only a third of the streets had been sufficiently plowed to allow access to downtown. All three plows under city contract had been running steadily since the storm started just after ten the night before, and the men behind the wheels of the monstrous machines were tired and weary, ready for their relief drivers.

Fortunately for Eve Walsh, one of the big trucks had already passed the Animal Hospital and she was able to carefully maneuver her chain-laden blue Celica to the partially buried clinic. The blade of the plow had created a large enough wedge in the burm of snow to allow her to park off the road. The parking lot and building had been transformed into an alien landscape, soft rolling hills of white subduing the architecture beneath. As she stood at the edge of the cut in the snow made by the plow blade, arms huddled to her body inside her thick black jacket, she wondered just how the hell she was supposed to get inside.

"I'll bet Cat ain't even here," she muttered, her breath curling from her lips.

She was about to get back in the car and drive home when a flicker of light caught her eye. Inside the window of the examination room one of the bright, white halogens flashed and then dimmed and then burned brightly in the morning haze. The muffled sounds of the power being restored to the electrical lines hummed and then fell into a barely audible thrum. She looked at her car and then back at the window where the lights were on.

"I know I shut those off when I left," she said out loud, the idea of trying to traverse the deep snow becoming more and more unappealing by the minute. She supposed she could have gone home and probably not had a problem with Catalina. After all, the entire town was snowed in. Eve had only gotten out of her driveway because her father had been one of the few with a tractor and scoop. In all likelihood, there would be no repercussions if she didn't show up.

But those lights... Eve sighed, angry at her obsessive nature. She remembered turning them off, specifically making sure to check them before she locked up the night before. And yet, here they were lighting a room with no one in it. Eve stepped towards her car, her boots crunching in the ice and snow and then stopped suddenly, her momentum still leaning to the vehicle.

"Damn it," she shook her head, "I'm not going in there."

She looked to the clinic.

"I said I'm not," she put her hands on her hips, "I'm going home. It's just a light."

She glanced down at the ground and sighed as the idea of that light being on picked at her brain. She kicked the wall of snow and realized she would be hip deep in the white stuff just to make it to the door. In the distance, she could hear the scraping of metal to pavement as the plows worked steadily a block away. 

"Son of a bitch," she breathed, "Fucking OCD..."

She waded through the snow, her thighs working in a dull protest as she pushed onward. She fell forward a few times, her hand outstretched to brace herself and then sinking into the snow. After five minutes of cursing and more hard work than she had planned on doing that day, she finally reached the door. The cold was bitter on her fingers as she slipped her gloves off and fumbled into the pocket of her jeans to fish the keys out.

"Fuck-a-doodle-doo," she hissed, her breath steaming around her.

Once inside, she closed the door and shook herself off. After tossing her jacket and gloves onto the chair behind the reception desk, Eve went to the bank of switches that controlled the lights. As she put her finger to the switch she heard voices coming from Cat's office. Her first instinct was primal and filled with anxiety. Someone was in the office already. Cat's car wasn't here, there was no way.

"Who the hell..." Eve walked quietly down the hallway, the heels of her boots squeaking quietly and yet loudly enough that a herd of elephants might as well have been passing by. She stopped by the door to her boss's office and found it slightly cracked open. Leaning close to the door frame, she peered in with one eye and was surprised to find Travis and Cat talking.

"Come on, you can tell me," Catalina smiled. 

"We did some stuff," Travis said as his face turned red.

"Like?"

"Eve would kill me if I kissed and told."

Eve tensed up. They were talking about her?

Now Catalina was truly curious. "You're telling me you two dated in high school for a year and nothing happened other than 'stuff'?"

"Some good stuff," Travis said with a smile. "We had sex, if that's what you're asking."

"You lost your virginity to her?"

Travis took a deep breath and let it out slowly, more than a little uncomfortable. "Yes I did."

"Naughty naughty..."

"Hey, she was my first real girlfriend. I'm glad it was her."

Eve found herself drifting back to her senior year in high school, when she had been the love of Travis Goldsmith's life. They had been a good match, both of them popular but not so popular that their relationship was gossip worthy. Like the first time Travis had entered her, their relationship had been exciting, wonderful, slightly painful and a perfect fit. Eve thought of that first tentative love making session that seemed frozen in time eons ago. She felt a pang of hurt rise up in her chest.

Catalina paused for a moment, "Was she good?"

"Yeah," Travis shrugged, "But it was our first time with anyone. So even if we were bad, how could we tell?"

Eve found herself smiling despite herself. She liked how he had said "we."

"What happened between you two? What caused the break up?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Travis laughed, "We should be talking about us."

"I'm curious."

Eve felt her heart sink at the mention of the break up, familiar wounds opening wide and searing her all over again. Guilt swept over her and she closed her eyes.

"We had a-" Travis paused, and then after a moment, "We had a falling out."

"Oh," Cat said, and then, "So, enough about that. How do I stack up against her?"

"Feeling insecure are we?" Travis laughed.

"No," Cat countered, "I'd just like to know how an old maid like me compares to a sex bomb like her."

Eve felt a sudden pang of jealously.

"I don't think comparing my first to my most recent is really fair," Travis said carefully, "But I will say you were amazing. Definitely the best I've ever had... and you're not an old maid."

Eve bit her lip and was surprised to find her face flushed red. She let go of the door frame and stepped back. She didn't want to hear anymore of this. She was angry at the conversation and confused at the fact it was even happening at all. She was about to walk away when Catalina asked Travis another question.

"Did she ever suck your cock, Travis?"

***

Catalina's heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to control her breathing. She didn't really know why she was asking Travis all these questions. Her mind was running a million miles an hour and her mouth was trying to keep up. She wanted to know she was the best he had ever had, and if there was anything she hadn't done good enough. She was surprised at her possessiveness over Travis, the feeling of ownership she was experiencing. She wanted to be everything to him. So she asked him again, "Did she ever suck your cock like I did last night?"

"This is turning you on, isn't it?"

"Yes," Cat breathed, "Tell me."

"Sometimes she would suck me off," Travis replied, "Other times she would use her hand on me until I came."

"Would she let you cum on her?" Catalina asked as her panties became deliciously damp.

"No," Travis discretely adjusted himself as he sat in the chair across from Cat's desk, "I don't think she was into that."

"So you never got to cum on her tits?" Catalina asked as her excitement mounted.

"No," Travis said, a blush rising to his cheeks and a swelling in his pants.

"Or her face?"

"No."

Cat licked her lips, "You just came all over yourself?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

The idea of cum all over Travis's bare chest and stomach, spurting out from his swollen member in thick globs that spattered on his fair skin was almost too much for her. She leaned back in her chair, "I can picture that..."

"I had no idea you were so kinky," he said.

"After last night you're surprised?"

Travis smiled.

Catalina's heart was beating so fast she was afraid she might pass out. It was time for relief, so she said, "You want to see kinky?"

Travis cocked his brow. "Sure."

"Show me your cock. I want to see you jerk off," Catalina struggled to keep her composure. She had never been this horny in her entire life.

"Right now?" Travis asked, "Isn't Eve coming in this morning?"

"She's always late," Cat smiled and leaned forward against her desk, "Now show me."

"You're serious?"

"Deadly." 

Travis's heart began to jack hammer in his chest as he slowly stood up and began to unbuckle his belt. The thought of being caught by Eve terrified him. All he needed was for people to find out he had fucked Cat. It wasn't that he cared what people thought, but if his parents found out they'd kill him. He unsnapped his jeans, turned and looked at the office door. It was partially cracked open. He asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes, Travis," Catalina smiled, her nipples growing hard in her bra.

With shaking hands he slowly pulled his zipper down. He could feel his penis straining against the fabric of his boxers and pants. He had never done anything like this before, and part of him was scared as hell. It was taboo, and so damned crazy. He reached into his boxer briefs and wrapped his hand around his hard shaft. He felt sweat break out on his brow as he looked to Cat. She brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and smiled expectantly

"Pull them down," Catalina said matter-of-factly. She became dimly aware that her sex had soaked through her panties and was leaving a warm wet spot on the seat of her chair. She watched intently as Travis slid his boxers down and revealed his penis to her once more. It was already thick and hard, pointing out and up towards her. The bulbous head was swollen and looked so inviting. Her eyes followed the lines of the veins throbbing on the shaft to the glistening head where a drop of precum oozed from the tip.

"Damn Travis," Catalina whispered, remembering what it was like to have his cock inside her. Travis stood there before her, his penis pulsing gently as his arousal became more and more undeniable. He watched Catalina's eyes as she ravenously focused on his private parts. He felt an incredible thrill race through him as he stood partially naked in front of her. 

"Stroke it," Cat said dreamily.

Slowly his hand reached up and grasped the shaft, his method and movements practiced over many countless sessions. His penis felt searing hot against his palm as his hand slid up and down the shaft. His thighs touched the edge of her oak desk as he worked his cock, the bubble of precum now becoming so heavy that it began to drip down his shaft and then hang precariously off his dick in a silvery stretch.

He grunted a little as he masturbated for his new lover.

"Fuck yes baby," she said huskily, her eyes lustily burning into him.

Travis continued to move his hand up and down as their eyes locked. The precum dripped down to her desktop and the strand broke, making a small droplet.

"Yes," Catalina breathed as she wiped up the precum with her index finger and then tasted it.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Travis breathed, his erection now steeled and painfully engorged. He looked to swells of her breasts, encased in her evening dress from the night before. Her tits jiggled in the cups of her bra as she leaned forward.

"I can believe it," Catalina saw where Travis's eyes were focused and knew what she had to do. Her eyes not leaving his once, she pulled the straps of her dress and bra down as he jerked his member. Travis's mouth opened, sucking in air as she toyed with him, pulling the cups of her bra down a little. 

"Oh God," Travis moaned, now fighting desperately to hold back his climax. He held his breath as Catalina eyed him, reaching for the clasp between her milky heaving breasts.

"You want to see my tits, Travis?" Catalina bit her lip and moved her eyes back to Travis's hand now moving rapidly up and down his penis. 

"Yes," Travis held his breath as he watched her fingers frozen on the clasp. With one deft move, she unlocked the clasp and the cups fell free, releasing her breasts. She pulled them away and revealed her rigid nipples and the full weight of her tits. She cupped them and squeezed them together, her fingers pinching together around her erected nipples.

"Are you getting close?"

Travis could barely speak as a familiar sensation formed, electrifying his balls, cock and anus. He tingled as his body sparked and readied itself for the impending orgasm. He could only nod to her.

"I want to see you cum," she whispered and pulled at her nipples, "I want to see it explode from your cock..."

'Shit,' Travis bit his lip as his cock hardened even more against his sweaty palm.

"I want your cum Travis," she whispered, encouraging him, "Give it to me..."

"Oh God," he managed through gritted teeth, "Cat I'm close..."

"Yes..."

"Oh fuck!" Travis cried out as his mind went white and his hips bucked. The semen roared through him and ejaculated from his convulsing member in hard, long spurts that rocketed across the desk. The first spurt splattered against Cat's tits, surprising her. She looked down and marveled at the heat of Travis's cum. She looked and saw puddles of cum across her paperwork and desk top, white and glistening in the cool morning light. She looked to Travis, who had his head thrown back, the veins in his neck bulging and his fist closed tight around his cock. Travis braced himself against the desk with hands that shook, a thin quivering rope of cum stretching from his cock head to the desk.

Catalina looked down at the cum rolling down her left tit, slowly oozing over her nipple. She shivered with delight. With one finger, she smeared the liquid over her rosy aerola and savored the sensation, the scent of his spunk. She wanted him badly now, she wanted feel the cum sliding between their naked bodies. She was about to jump across the desk and attack him, tear his clothes off and make him all her own when she heard something in the hallway.

Travis looked at the doorway and then at her.

"Eve?" he whispered.

Cat pulled her bra and dress back up, "Quick!"

***

Eve hurried back to the reception desk and quickly composed herself. She felt shocked and confused, lost even. What she had seen had turned her on to no end, but at the same time she felt so fucking jealous that she thought she might cry. Eve breathed deep and ran her hand through her cropped blonde hair. Why should she be jealous? Things with Travis ended a long time ago, and she hadn't really thought of him as more than a friend since he went to college.

"Easy girl," she whispered to herself as tears burned her eyes, "Get a grip."

There was rustling in the hallway.

Eve found her voice and put on her receptionists face, the façade that allowed her to meet and greet anyone and everyone who walked through the door of the clinic with a smile no matter bad she might feel to the contrary. She forced the maelstrom of emotions away from her and embraced a forced ignorance as she called out, "Hello? Dr. Hughes?"

There was a moment of silence, and then from the office, "Yes Eve? I'm here."

"Cool cool," she called back and sat down at her desk, "You're here early."

The door to the office opened and she could hear footsteps, "Yes, well, it's a funny story..."

'Funny my ass,' she thought bitterly, and then reminded herself, 'But you did encourage her to pursue Travis, didn't you Eve? Didn't you set this shit up?'

"Oh?" Eve forced a genial smile on her face as Cat walked out, dressed in her lab coat and hair pulled back tight. Travis followed behind, a small distance between them. His face was flushed and she couldn't help but notice the bulge in his jeans. Eve quickly looked away and then at his face. She said, "And what are you doing here so early, mister?"

"Oh, I got snowed in," he smiled nervously. Travis was many things, but a good liar was not one of them. He looked about as guilty as a man could without being convicted. But why should he? He no longer belonged to Eve any more than she belonged to him. They hadn't been anything more than friends since high school, since they broke up.

"I see," she winked devilishly, "You both got snowed in?"

"Travis was kind enough to give me a ride home, but the weather got the better of us," Cat said casually and picked up the charts off Eve's desk. She adjusted her glasses and said, "I'm surprised you're here this morning. If ever there was a snow day, this is it."

"Well you know me, doc," she turned her chair towards the computer monitor and flicked it on, "Work, work, work..."

There was an awkward silence that followed her words. Eve's mind wandered to a thousand different places as her eyes rested on the monitor. Why hadn't she seen Travis's truck? It must have been parked around back. She wondered if Travis had bit Cat's shoulders and neck last night as they fucked? He always did whenever he had been having sex with her. Her mind recalled the memories of his body against hers, the feeling of lips against her skin and the sensations of him suckling on her nipples and the torturous pleasures of his teasing her sex with his tongue. Had he done all those things for Cat last night?

"Well," Travis said, breaking her train of thought, "I better get rolling. Mom and Dad are probably worried as it is."

"Alright," Cat said, "Well, thank you again for driving me last night."

Eve quietly rolled her eyes at the innuendo.

"No worries," Travis said, and then to Eve, "Catch ya later?"

"Sure thing, Travis."

"Okay then," he nodded and touched Cat's hand, "I'll see you later then."

Once Travis was gone, Eve spun around in her chair and smiled at Cat. The doctor looked at her innocently. "What?"

"Uh huh," she smiled playfully, but inside her heart was breaking.

"What?" Cat laughed.

"So?"

"So?" Cat smiled.

Eve looked at her, cocked one brow and said, "Tell me everything."

Cat looked to the charts she held in her hand, "There's nothing to tell."

"Liar," she stood up and leaned against the desk, playing her 'pert and perky' act to the hilt, "Come on doc..."

Cat breathed deeply and then looked at her assistant. After a moment, she grinned broadly and said, "Nothing, I swear."

"Right," Eve nodded sarcastically.

"Seriously."

"Okay," Eve said and sat back down in her chair, "But next time, you should close your door all the way."

Cat froze and then looked at her with wide eyes.

Even graced her with a wise half-smile.

"You saw that?"

"Yep."

Cat blinked, "I don't know what to say."

"Start at the beginning," Eve said, even though every fiber of her being wanted nothing more than to pretend she had never seen anything happen at all.




Lycanthrope Ch. 02



"Got any gum?" she asked Eve, who now sat behind the receptionists desk with a broad smile on her pretty face.

"Yes I do," she replied and fished into the pocket of her jeans. After a moment she pulled out a package of Dentyne Ice, the Arctic Chill variety. She opened the small foil bubble and handed one of the small white tablets to the doctor. Eve leaned back in the dark, rolling office chair and put her hands behind her head, "So... I'm assuming the party went well?"

Cat tried to suppress a smile as she chewed the gum, hoping it would be strong enough to hide any morning halitosis. After all, she had been drinking and performing an assortment of sexual pleasantries all night long. She wondered if swallowing semen would cause rank breath? As the potent flavor of the gum spread through her mouth like a heat bloom, making her eyes water a little, she figured it didn't matter. She said, "Damn, this stuff is strong."

"Yep," Eve agreed, her eyes dancing with curiosity, "Oh come on now. Tell me what happened?"

"Eve," she shied away, "A good girl never kisses and tells."

"You fucked Travis Goldsmith last night," Eve laughed, "Good girl my ass."

Cat laughed, genuinely feeling good. She had to pause for a moment to accept that small detail. She actually felt good, no more than that she felt alive and for the first time in years, she felt satisfied. After a moment, she said, "The party was a bore, but Travis was so..."

"Perfect?"

"Oh yes," Cat said as she leaned against the front desk, her hands in her lab coat, the memories of the previous still fresh and hot in her memory. If only Travis hadn't had to leave so quickly... and if only Eve had decided to not come in for work this morning... "We danced together outside in the dark, where no one could see us. It was insane, Eve. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't help it. It felt so right."

"It always does," her assistant nodded, "So who kissed who first?"

"He kissed me," the doctor said, "It was a perfect moment, Eve."

"Nice," Eve leaned forward, her chin resting on her knuckles, "He is a good kisser."

"And then my car wouldn't start, so he drove me home but we-" Cat stopped, remembering the animal they had hit on the way home. That memory fell like a shadow over her good mood and she felt herself withdraw from the moment she was sharing with Eve. The memory of the incident was almost as unnerving as the creature itself had been. Travis had sworn it was a werewolf. Cat shook her head and pushed that part of it, determined not to lose herself in the queasy uncertainty gripping her heart.

"And?"

"And we hit a bear out on the old highway," she continued, "We both got a little banged up so we came here. The snow was falling so bad by then that we had no choice but to stay the night."

"Very nice," Eve grinned devilishly, but to herself she thought, 'A bear? Don't they hibernate this time of year?'

"We took off our clothes to get dry and while we were sitting in the lounge, one thing led to another and before I knew it we were kissing and then we were, well, you know..."

"How Cat Hughes got her groove back," Eve said, "I love it. Was he good?"

"Eve," she laughed.

"Seriously," she insisted, "I dated him back in high school, and he was good then. Has he improved?"

Cat looked thoughtfully at the ceiling and let out a satisfied sigh, "Let me put it to you this way: I orgasmed eight times last night, and I didn't have anything to do with it."

"He's that good?" she whispered, her voice lowered conspiratorially.

"Oh yes," Cat nodded solemnly, though deep down she knew that the reality of it was they were just that good together. It had been both of them working together that created such a pleasurable and memorable experience. And how they had worked together, every thrust, every caress and every slide of the hips a small yet crucial element to a larger sexual equation neither of them could have foreseen yesterday afternoon when they had shaken hands over one sick dog.

"Hello?"

Cat and Eve turned to see the main doors open and a woman holding gray peppered black cat in her arms in the entry. She was a strikingly gorgeous woman, her skin olive toned and her hair dark, filled with waves and curls that cascaded down to her red ski jacket. Tight thermal pants, as dark as her hair, fit snugly to her shapely legs, disappearing into stylish matching boots. The woman took off her sunglasses with one gloved hand and looked to the two with large, black obsidian eyes. She asked, "Are you open today?"

Cat felt the fine hair on the back of her neck prickle and rise as Sheryl Chirique stood in the doorway of her clinic, letting the warmed air from the heaters bleed out into the December afternoon. Eve stood up, almost defensively as Sheryl let the door slowly close behind her, her boots tracking slush across the light blue carpet. The cat she held eyed both the doctor and Eve impassively, possessed of an arrogant superiority that was all too common to her master.

"Yes, Sheryl," Catalina said quietly, her good mood slipping away as quickly as her inhibitions had last night. She clenched her jaw as the woman her husband had left her for strolled up to the counter and sat her feline down. The cat stretched, arching its back and then sat obediently next to her master like some caricatured pet in a Disney cartoon. The doctor put her glasses on and straightened to her full height, "How can we help you?"

"Princess isn't feeling well," Sheryl looked down that the well-groomed Persian, "Walter was supposed to bring her in last week but he had to go out of town. I've been so busy that today was the first chance I've had."

The casual mention of her ex-husband's name cut deep into Catalina, but she maintained her poker face. Sheryl was here more for the gloating than the welfare of this pompous little feline sitting on the counter, watching them all with piercing yellow eyes. This was a reminder that Sheryl had taken what was once Cat's, and there wasn't anything she could do about. Cat nodded and swallowed the barrage of obscenities she wanted to throw at the Greek real estate broker.

"What's wrong with Princess?" Catalina smiled genially.

"I think her stomach's upset," Sheryl said and stroked the cat's head gingerly, "She's been having potty trouble."

"Animal's do get the runs from time to time," Eve said bluntly, making no effort to hide her disdain, "After all, they do lick their own asses."

Sheryl looked at Eve, her mouth open and eyes wide with offense, "Excuse me?"

"Eve," Cat put her hand up, still standing toe to toe with Sheryl, "What my assistant means is that diarrhea is a common ailment with cats and dogs for a variety of reasons. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, but we'll take a look anyway."

"You might want to consider teaching your 'assistant' some manners," Sheryl ignored Eve completely and then nuzzled Princess, "After all, even the lowest of us has to have manners, yes precious?"

As Sheryl bathed her cat in affection Eve soaked in the backhanded comment with all the grace of Korean kick boxer. She cracked her knuckles and bit her lip, ready to slug the slut right in the jaw. Had it not been for the look in Catalina's eye, she would have too. But the doctor looked at her and motioned for her to step away and prepare the exam room. Eve nodded and walked away, her eyes fixed on Sheryl like two lasers ready to fire and burn the woman's brain right out of her skull.

'Bitch,' Eve thought sourly, 'If I had my way...'

Once Eve was gone, Cat looked back at Sheryl and then noticed the dark circles under her rival's eyes. Sheryl always looked impossible perfected, and yet here she was carrying two extra bags under her vibrant peepers. Cat asked, "Lost night?"

Sheryl regarded her coolly for a moment, and then, "Sometimes we all have a little insomnia."

"Is that why you're here?"

Sheryl graced her with a patronizing smile.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I thought I made that clear," Sheryl replied innocently, "My cat is sick... understand, Cat?"

"You can call me Dr. Hughes," Cat said evenly, "We're not friends and we're not anywhere near being sociable, alright?"

"Are you refusing to examine my cat?"

"No," Catalina shook her head, "But we both know there's nothing wrong with Princess here."

Sheryl smiled and rolled her eyes. She lowered her voice confidentially, "Look, Walter picked me over you, Catalina. There's nothing I can do about that."

"You could have kept your legs closed," Cat replied.

"And that would have solved what?" she asked, her eyes filled with sarcasm and genuine amusement, "Walter was done with you long before I came along. We all know that. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else."

Cat wanted to argue, but she knew Sheryl was right. She said, "That's no justification."

"But it is an explanation," the woman said, "Look, he made the choice, not me. I told him either it was you or me. He wanted me, and I wanted him. That's it."

"Pretty cut and dried, huh?" Cat felt like laughing, maybe even laughing until she cried. It wasn't that she wanted Walter back, and it wasn't that she missed him. She realized that it was because he had betrayed so easily. She wanted him to be exposed for the fraud he was. She wanted Sheryl and Walter to have their comeuppance for such a horrible deed. 

"It helps if you think of it like a game," Sheryl said, "Every game has a winner, and every game has a loser."

Cat looked up from her shoes, a sudden rush of anger flushing her cheeks.

"Okay?" Sheryl patted her hand.

Later, when she had to time to think about it, Cat would realize that it wasn't entirely her fault that she raised her hand against Sheryl Chirique. She figured it might have been the stress of her failed marriage; the sense of betrayal and the overwhelming purpose she had found from her time with Travis combined that allowed her to strike Sheryl. She even thought maybe she was still frightened out of her wits from the thing that had attacked her the night before. Either way, when her closed fist connected with Sheryl's jaw it hit hard and fast.

The cat jumped from the countertop, its claws scraping the slick surface for purchase to leap as Sheryl was forced backwards. Her arms flew out to catch her self but failed. She landed flat on her back, spread-eagled and hair fanned out behind her. Her dark eyes seemed to roll in their sockets as she groaned and sat up, her face white with shock. The doors to the exam room burst open and Eve hurried into the lounge, her eyes wide and mouth open. She looked at Catalina and then down to Sheryl, who was slowly recovering on the floor.

"Holy shit," Eve breathed, her lips twisting into an amazed grin, "What'd you do?"

Cat looked down at her balled up fist and found the knuckles were lighting through her skin in a muted white rage. Her hands were shaking and her heart was thundering in her chest. She felt hot, almost uncomfortably hot to the point of breaking a sweat. Cat had to step back as the anger coursed like a viral pathogen through her blood. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, a ragged breath escaping her lips as her nipples hardened in the confines of her bra. She whispered, "I don't know."

"You hit me," Sheryl stood up, rubbing her jaw daintily, "You fucking hit me."

"Wow," Eve laughed and clapped her hands.

"My lawyer will be in touch with you, you cunt," Sheryl hissed as she gathered up her cat. Princess, for her part leapt into her masters arms and looked defiantly at Catalina, her yellow eyes spewing all sorts of silent animalistic threats. Sheryl walked to the door, the left side of her face turning red against her tanned skin as she looked back and glared at Catalina and Eve. She said, "That's the last mistake you'll ever make, Catalina. When Walter hears about this..."

"Fuck Walter," Catalina heard herself say.

"I already have," Sheryl shot back venomously, "And from what he tells me, better than you ever did."

"Better put some ice on that sweetheart," Eve said, "In an hour it'll be as bruised as your ego."

"This isn't over," Sheryl said, more to herself than to anyone, "This is not over."

The doors slammed shut in her wake and Sheryl was gone, leaving Catalina and Eve alone in the clinic. Eve hurried to the door and watched as Sheryl made her way through the snow to her red SUV, got in with a good slam of the door, pulled out of the parking lot and kicked up waves of slush under the big tires. Eve laughed and leaned against the door, her arms crossed and her eyes wide. She looked at Catalina, "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Cat said, still looking at her hand, "I've never punched anyone before in my life."

"Could've fooled me, Doc," Eve walked over to her, "Looks like you laid her out flat."

"That wasn't like me," she said quietly, her respirations slowing down gradually, "I don't hit people."

"She deserved it, Cat," Eve shrugged, "Don't worry about it. She had it coming."

Cat looked to her friend and then back at her hand. Slowly she opened her hand and saw that her palm was cut in four places and bleeding. Her fingernails had punctured the skin evenly across the lines of her hand. Cat looked at the blood and realized that it wasn't force of the punch that had done it. It was her anger. She had been so angry that her fist had balled to the point of driving her nails into her flesh. And she hadn't even noticed.

"Catalina," Eve gripped her shoulders. Cat closed her hand again, not wanting Eve to see the marks. Her assistant smiled reassuringly, "It's okay."

"Yeah?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yeah," Eve patted her back, and then thought, 'What the hell is wrong with you?'

Catalina took a deep breath and tried to find comfort in her words, but couldn't. As they went back into the exam room, she looked down at the four cuts on her palm. She thought, 'What the hell is wrong with me?'

***

By noon, the roads were relatively clear of snow and life in the small city returned, announced by the sounds of chained-tires sloshing through the wet mix of gravel and slush and the occasional car horn. Travis had meant to go home after leaving the clinic, but ran into Sheriff Walsh at the main street intersection. The sheriff had been directing traffic and told Travis that a town meeting was being held to organize a search party. It was a blessing really, as he had no desire to explain the night before to his parents. 

So, fifteen minutes later Travis sat in the back row of the makeshift sea of aluminum rod folding chairs covering the floor of the community center. He had been one of the last to arrive, having gone home to change and shower and get his heavy snow boots on. Twenty out of the expected fifty men had showed up for Sheriff Walsh's meeting, though Travis was certain that the snow had more to do with it than a lack of community responsibility.

"So where were you last night?"

Travis looked over at Carter Carson and sighed. His friend, one of the few from his graduating class that still lived in Breystaff besides Eve Walsh and a couple others, was the son of the local sanitation company. Carson Sanitation was the backbone business in Breystaff, also serving neighboring towns to some extent with their prospects high for even more expansion. Carter had harbored high hopes for getting out of the family business after high school, his sights set as high as Harvard University with a degree. Instead, he had remained behind in Breystaff and carried on the family tradition.

Carter was also one of the few black men in town, his family the only splash of color in a thirty-mile radius. While racial tensions may have soared in the abroad, any of those feelings here in the small community were eased and hardly ever anything beyond mellow. While lesser minds might have scrutinized this lone black family's place amongst a town of whites, and maybe even venture the opinion that they were isolated, the Carson family was also the richest family in town.

Next to the Goldsmith clan, the Carson's were considered local royalty. This was so not only because of their good natured relations and indispensable public service, but also because like so many things in Breystaff, and small towns in general, you never bit the hand the fed you. Black or white made little difference to those standing lower on the food chain, except maybe to some of the older folk lounging about the bars with more than a chip on their shoulder or the brainwashing of yesteryear's racial propaganda.

Carter was dressed as he always was, stylish and in trend with the modern African-American male. His ball cap was clean and tipped to one side (damn near sideways if you asked Travis) and a toothpick rolling back and forth across his full lips under the machinations of his tongue. Travis shrugged and said, "My parents had a party."

"Yeah I know," Carter said as a few more people filed into the community center, "But where were you? You hate those fucking parties. I thought you were gonna hang out with me."

"I was," Travis nodded, "But there was this girl there."

"A girl?" Carter's eyes lit up, "You got some, didn't you?"

Travis looked around and then smiled, "Yeah, you could say that."

"Damn," Carter punched his friend's arm twice playfully, "You dog."

Travis felt a beam of pride at the thought of Catalina.

"So who is she?"

"Is it important?"

"Hell yes it's important," Carter insisted, "I haven't been laid in three weeks and I have to live vicariously through white mother-fuckers like you. Who?"

Travis laughed, "You sweet talker."

"Come on man," Carter said, "Okay, tell me was she at least a good fuck?"

"The best I've ever had."

"She give good head?" he lowered his voice.

"Unbelievable," Travis confirmed.

"How many times you blow it?"

"What are you, a woman?" Travis eyed him, "What's with all the intimate questions?"

"I'm dying here, man."

"I'll send a wreath to your folks."

"Okay man," Carter sat back in his chair, "I didn't want to bring this up, but when I nailed Jessica Hollingsworth junior prom, who'd I let watch?"

"Oh shit," Travis rolled his eyes, "You had me watch because you needed pictures. That doesn't count."

"Maybe not," he replied, "But who put in a good word for you with her a month later?"

"You," Travis sighed.

"And who lost his virginity to Eve Walsh because of my good word?"

"Me."

"Damn straight. Now spill it."

"I came six times, she came eight."

Carter looked at him doubtfully. "Seriously?"

"No shit."

"That's my boy," he smiled broadly, "I knew you had it in you. Who was she?"

"Can't tell."

"Can't tell?"

Travis looked apologetic. "Nope, can't."

"Don't you go tight on me," Carter warned, "Or do I have to remind you about the time I caught you putting deer shit in Mr. Pollock's box of Raisenettes on our eighth grade field trip?"

"You dared me to," Travis looked at him.

"And you was dumb enough to do it," Carter said evenly.

"No deal," Travis folded his arms, "No telling."

"I'll tell everyone you fucked Margaret Jones."

Travis turned and looked at him, wide eyed, "Dude, you promised."

Carter stood up, and in his high-pitched yell said "Margaret Jones? What?"

"Oh God," Travis gritted his teeth.

"I thought they outlawed whaling!"

Travis yanked him back down into his seat as several people turned and looked at them. "Alright alright..." Travis breathed, "It was Catalina Hughes."

"Who the hell is that?"

"The vet?"

Carter thought for a moment and then his eyes went as wide as milk saucers. He covered his mouth and pointed at Travis, "Holy shit you fucked the veterinarian?"

Travis nodded.

"The good looking vet with the red hair and big titties?"

"Yes."

"Oh goddamn I love you," Carter hugged Travis roughly and rubbed his knuckles across his scalp, "You beautiful fuck."




Lycanthrope Ch. 02



"Get off me," Travis laughed and shoved him away, eliciting more suspicious looks from the men seat around them. He shrugged and pointed at Carter apologetically, "He hasn't had his meds yet today."

The old timers of the town frowned through their glasses; their disdain so blatant it was almost clichéd.

"Oh man," Carter smiled, oblivious to the consternation of the older generation around him "T, you done good for yourself. Is it serious? How the fuck did it happen in the first place?"

"I don't really know," Travis began and then was cut off by the microphone on the stage at the front of the center being turned on. Sheriff Walsh stood tall on the stage and looked down at the gathering of citizens, his heavy brows furrowed as he adjusted the microphone stand.

"You tell me all about it later," Carter whispered as he and Travis sat at attention.

"Okay," Travis nodded.

"Thank you for coming," Walsh said into the microphone. A sharp whine of feedback echoed through the hall and attacked their ears as the speakers adjusted. Walsh stood back and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. He looked the part of any small town sheriff, from his polished boots to the tan uniform and badge to the heavy brown coat and hat. His ancient, lined face was full and rounded, but he had a hard edge that seemed to diminish his weight.

"As you all know," he went on, "We had a hell of a storm last night. Power was lost here, in Mount Shasta and in Castleton Springs. We're the lucky ones and we have most of the city up and running again, but the roads are slow on the go and we're not going to have any outside help for at least a few days. It's a real mess out there.

Yesterday evening, just before the first snow really began to fall, Mary Carson called in and reported her husband and son overdue. They had been out cutting wood on the old Crest Logging Trail in the north end of town. In a few hours they'll have been gone for twenty-four hours. Since the state boys can't get in here right now and the neighboring departments have their hands full, I'm asking all of you to help me and Deputy Briggs in a search and rescue."

There was a mild murmuring of discussion among the men in the room as the sheriff's words were considered. In the front row, a tall lanky man with blonde hair stood up. He spoke with an eloquent English accent, and no one had to ask whether it was Nick Miller speaking or not. He said, "Sheriff, isn't possible they drove out to another town before the snow hit? If David Carson were cutting wood, then he would have had to have taken the logging trail back to Mount Shasta before heading home, yes?"

"That's true," Sheriff Walsh nodded, "But either way, it's not like him to simply disappear. He had a cell phone on him, and he would have checked in with his wife."

"I see," Miller said and sat down.

"The fire department has spared us six of their volunteers and equipment to use," Walsh explained, "But listen here. The odds are Dave and the boy are just sleeping in the truck and waiting for help to come. I don't want any of you smart-asses hauling guns out there and mistaking him or the boy for a damned deer, understand?"

"Isn't Dave Carson related to you?" Travis asked Carter from the side of his mouth as the sheriff went on.

"Yeah," he said, "Married to my cousin."

"We'll split into five groups and search accordingly. Deputy Briggs is waiting in the back of the hall with assignments. He'll tell you where to go and how to get there. The city boys have cleared the roads as best they can, but it'll be chains and four-by-fours on the trails, and probably by foot for a lot of it."

The sheriff looked around at the group and waited for a moment, "Any questions?"

No one said anything.

"Good," he said, "Let's get going. Daylight is wasting and there's supposed to be another storm tonight."

***

By the time Travis, Carter and Nick Miller arrived at the jeep trail leading to the logging road, it was already four in the afternoon and the sky had grown dark again with billowy clouds. The air was frigid and reserved, as though the world were waiting for something to happen. The three men stepped out of Travis's truck and walked to the snowed over road. There was no way Travis was going to risk getting his truck stuck on the hill. If it did and the incoming storm dumped as much snow as the one previous, he'd have to wait until spring to get it out.

"Do you think Sheriff Walsh gave us enough shit to carry?" Carter asked flatly as he adjusted the red strap of the first aid kit he carried. Each of the volunteers had been given a walkie-talkie and a flashlight, along with the first aid kit and a flare gun for each group. Travis carried the flare gun in his jacket pocket while Carter had been given the task of being the medic for their three-man team.

"Be prepared," Nick said. Travis had always the quiet Englishman looked a lot that actor from the "Warlock" movies, Julian Sands. He was tall and attractive (even being as straight as Travis was, he could see Nick was an eye-catcher for the ladies). A thick wool cap covered his neatly trimmed sandy blonde hair, his bright blue eyes looking into the ever-darkening woods. He said, "We've got a long trek ahead of us."

"Yeah," Travis nodded, "But it's good for the heart."

"Carter," Nick asked, "Any idea where your cousin normally went looking for wood?"

"Shit," Carter shrugged, "I got no clue. I was never into the whole "rugged-nature" bullshit."

"There's a clearing about a mile up the road with a lot downed trees," Travis suggested, "It would be a start."

"Then let's go," Nick smiled enigmatically and began treading through the snow, sinking in to his knees. He added over his shoulder, "This is going to be fun."

Carter looked into the woods and shivered. He almost jumped out of his boots when Travis put his hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, man," he said, "I guess I'm a little edgy."

"We'll find them," Travis reassured him as they began walking, "Like Sheriff Walsh said, they're probably huddled in the truck waiting for help."

"It's not that," Carter looked down as they entered the snow covered logging road and worked their way uphill after Nick.

"What is it?"

"It's just," he fell silent for a moment, allowing the dead calm of the woods fill the air between them for a moment, broken only by the crunching of fresh snow under the boots, "I feel bad."

"Why?"

"I didn't give a shit before I found it was Dave and Michael missing," he admitted, "It just sounded like an excuse to get out of helping Dad overhaul the engine on the garbage truck."

"It's cool," Travis said quietly, "You didn't know."

***

As the search parties fanned out, starting from the south end of town to the north end, flakes of snow began to fall quietly from the gray expanse above. Waning daylight became a dusky prelude to the night beyond as the five groups of men steadily worked towards each other, their voices echoing through the woods. Winter was dead time here, when all the leaves that could fall fell and the evergreens were lost in a sea of white. The world was quiet save for the progress of the infinitely small men journeying into a once familiar landscape that was now as alien as the horizon of Venus.

From the cover a large fallen cedar tree waited something else entirely foreign to them all, save for Travis. He hunkered down under the massive trunk, legs and arms drawn tight to his muscular body in an effort to stay warm. Even through the thick coat of his pelt, he could feel the wind carrying a stinging cold to his flesh. With reflective green eyes, he waited and watched them with a patience he had not possessed in the life previous. Despite the pain in his body from the night before, he remained silent and motionless as a group of the men drew near.

He had discovered that traveling by means of the tree branches above, he could move without leaving a track to follow. Leaving prints in the snow would lead the men to him, and then he would have to turn and fight them. He would have to kill them. And while the thought of tasting fresh blood again was tempting, even arousing to him, he knew he must be patient. As powerful and as quick as he was, men were not to be underestimated. 

On the air came a scent, and thus a reminder of his prey. He remembered the scent from last night and thus when he identified it, it became all the more difficult to remain still and silent. The scent was undeniable and feminine, and he realized as the small group of men passed him, shining their lights about and shouting out, that it was one of these people that had been with the woman last night.

The woman.

His woman.

Why he felt the need for her this strongly was beyond his reason for the moment. So much of the last stretch of time was a blur to him, and only recently had he discovered himself in the turmoil within. Memories would come back to him like flashes of lightning in a storm, vivid and powerful to spur his emotions. Through the feral rage and inhuman instincts he had acquired in the becoming, he had also been handicapped with a fragmented memory. He didn't so much think as he felt the memories.

The scent grew stronger, and he recognized the sweet smell of her on his skin. It was faint, and it was growing more so with each passing moment. But it was there. The heavy muzzle covering his snap-trap jaws pulled back in a sneer of hate and envy as he focused on the man the scent was coming from. This man was a competitor, a rival for the woman.

He hated him.

As the small group passed by, he backed out of the small cover created by the broken tree and began climbing a thick pine next to him. His claws dug into the bark as he ascended the truck, as quiet as any jewel thief and as invisible as the air itself. 

***

"Mrs. Goldsmith," Catalina felt her heart bottom out as Travis's mother stepped into the clinic. She had no animal with her and she wore a pained expression across her pale face. Cat composed herself, still upset from the incident with Sheryl Chirique and even more distressed over her odd and sudden rage. Eve, thankfully, was in the back of the storeroom doing inventory of the medications and vaccines. The last she needed was Eve slipping up and mentioning Travis.

"Dr. Hughes," Mary Jo Goldsmith smiled and stepped up to the counter where Cat had decked Sheryl with a beautiful right hook not more than two hours ago, "Can we speak for a moment?"

"Absolutely," Cat smiled and gestured to the chairs in the lounge. Either by a twist of fate or simple irony, Mary Jo sat in the same chair that had seen not only Cat and her son have sex several times, but also was stained with the mutual nectar of their passion. Cat cringed inwardly as Mary Jo sat down, but smiled. She asked, "How can I help you? Is Buster sick?"

"No," Mary Jo waved her hand, "No, the dog is fine. But, there is something I must speak with you about."

'She knows,' Cat's brain screamed, 'Somehow she knows I fucked her son last night...'

"Did everything go okay last night?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Cat replied, "Except an animal ran out in front of the truck and we hit it."

"Travis mentioned that on the phone," Mary Jo said, "But after that everything was fine."

"He made it home okay?"

"No, he called me from the community center," Mary Jo replied, "There's a search being organized for David and Michael Carson."

"Oh my," Cat frowned, "How long have they been gone?"

"Since last night," she said, "But they'll find them. Nobody knows those logging trails like Travis."

"He is handy to have around."

"Yes he is."

"Travis was a perfect gentleman," Catalina chose her words carefully as blood threatened to blush in her cheeks, "He wouldn't risk driving in the storm when it got bad, so he took me here. He's such a nice boy."

'Such a nice boy,' Cat thought to herself, 'Such a nice cock...'

"He is, isn't he?" Mary Jo agreed and then that pained expression crossed her plump features again, "Uhm, I don't know how to approach this so I'm just going to come out and say it."

'Oh God,' Cat thought dismally, 'Can this day get any worse?'

"Your car got hit by a plow this morning," Mary Jo said flatly, "I am so sorry."

"My car?" she repeated, a feeling of relief rushing in, "Someone hit my car?"

"A plow," Mary Jo added sorrowfully, "Took the driver side door off along with most of your paint."

"Well that's great," she heard herself happily say. She caught herself and frowned, trying to recover as Travis's mom eyed her. Cat said, "I mean, no one was hurt?"

"No," Mary Jo said, and then, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Cat reassured her, "I've just had a rough day. If I don't take bad news with a smile, I'll probably cry."

"Oh sweetie," Mary Jo placed her hand over Cat's, "It'll be okay."

Cat smiled, forcing a hint of depression into her eyes, "Thank you."

***

Travis was thinking about the animal from the night before.

He hadn't wanted to say anything to either Nick or Carter about the creature he and Catalina had hit with the truck. Vain efforts at trying to write the thing off as a freak bear or some kind of dog were met with his own doubtful fear. It had stood on two legs and was built more like a man than an animal. He even tried to label it as a man in a costume. He supposed it was possible some lunatic was out running around in a snowstorm wearing a damned authentic wolf costume on the old highway. Sure, it was possible.

'Sure,' he rolled his eyes, 'Get real.'

Besides, no man could have moved as fast as that thing on the road did last night. No man could have imitated those sounds and no man earth had eyes that glowed green like that. The eyes were what ended up frightening Travis the most. They had been reflective, like a cat's eye was in the dark when you flashed a light on them. But beyond that strange iridescent quality, there had been an inner fire behind those feral orbs that burned bright enough to peer into Travis's soul. He had been downright scared to death, and had Catalina not been there he might have screamed and jumped back in the truck.

"Travis," came the cool, smooth voice of Nick Miller, "How far along the road do you think we are now?"

"Oh," Travis shrugged, "Maybe a mile. Why?"

"We're losing daylight and the rate this snow is coming down worries me," the Englishman said as he flashed his light into the silent woods, "Should we turn back?"

The three men stopped in the middle of the road, feet cold and their bodies rapidly becoming chilly. Travis breathed deep and expelled the visible, used oxygen in a whispering cloud. He wanted a cigarette badly. His lungs ached from stress and he felt like shit, but he needed one anyway. He unclipped his radio for the side of his belt and raised it to his mouth. He spoke, "Sheriff Walsh, this is Travis Goldsmith, over?"

"Listen to you," Carter laughed, "All official and shit."

Travis smiled and flipped him the bird. Carter was joking, but inside he was torn up over David and Michael being lost out here. Travis supposed he could understand that feeling. What if it had been his mom and dad out here? What if it had been Catalina? Or Eve?

"Hey Travis, this is Walsh," the radio crackled, "What's the word?"

"We're about a mile up the road and the snow is coming down thick," Travis said, "If we stay out too long, we might get stuck out here too. What do you want us to do?"

There was a moment of silence and then, "Pack it in, Travis. Frank Hubbard is heading towards you from the opposite end of the logging road with a snowmobile. He can make up the difference."

"Sounds good," Travis replied, "We're turning back now."

"Well, that's that then," Nick looked at his companions, his blue eyes heavy in the dim illumination from the flashlights, "Shall we?"

"Wait," Carter said and grabbed Travis's arm. He shined his flashlight off in to the woods to the east and whispered, "You see that?"

Travis squinted and looked into the woods, adding his own light Carter's. Nick did the same and they peered into the dark. Through the sagging branched, weighted down by snow and the shadows from the thick trunks of ancient trees, Travis saw a shiny red streak of metal. His heart leapt into his throat as Carter shouted out, "It's David's truck!"

Before Travis or Nick could say anything, Carter was trudging his way into the thicket of underbrush and snow. They followed behind him, sinking into open pockets of space were the snow had piled up over dense leaves. Several times, Travis nearly lost his footing and fell forwards as they navigated their way towards the buried Dodge Ram pickup.

The streak of red they had seen from the road was the hood of the truck. A large section of the snow pack had lost its grip on the slick paint job and slid off to the ground, leaving it exposed. Carter reached the truck first, his gloved hands pawing at the mound of snow where the cab was hidden. He cleared out a space of glass and on the driver's side window and flashed his light inside. He saw the blue ice cooler, so half eaten food and the thick jacket David always wore over his flannel shirts.

"David!" Carter shouted into the night, "Yo Dave!"

"David Carson!" Travis joined in.

"How many Davids do you think are out here?" Nick said slyly and smiled at Travis.

"Dave!" Carter shouted again.

They waited for a reply, listening intently as the echoes from their yells died out and silence claimed the world once more. Off in the distance, a semi truck down shifted on the grade of Interstate 5 and rumbled the small canyon in which Breystaff sat. Carter slowly circled the truck, flashing his light around on the top of the snow pack. He mumbled, "No footprints."

"With this much snow, I doubt you'd find any," Nick reminded him.

"I guess you're right," he nodded absently.

"This is getting weird," Travis peered into the cleared away section of windshield with his flashlight, "No one home."

"Maybe someone picked them up?"

"Maybe," Nick replied, "But why wouldn't they have called into Mrs. Carson by now?"

"Sheriff Walsh," Travis said into his radio.

"That you again, Goldsmith?" the radio crackled.

"We found David's truck," he said, "Its buried under a ton of snow. No sign of David or his son anywhere."

"Shit," Walsh sighed, "Stay put, Travis. Keep someone out on the road. Hubbard should be by any minute now."

"Will do."

Nick rubbed his gloved hands together and looked at Carter, "Why don't you take the first watch on the road."

"Yeah," Carter said absently, his eyes focused on the partially buried truck, "Yeah, good idea."

Once Carter was out of earshot, Nick said to Travis, "I don't think he's handling this well."

Travis looked back to the road where his friend stood quietly, flashlight on and eagerly awaiting the arrival of help. He said, "No argument here."

"I do hope that David was able to hitch a ride somewhere," Nick said.

"If he had," Travis took his pack of cigarettes out from his coat pocket and offered it to Nick, "He would have called by now."

Nick nodded gratefully and took one of the smokes. He said, "It is entirely possible we've already passed them."

Travis pulled a cigarette out from the package and put it to his cold lips. He lit it and hoped that Frank Hubbard was speeding along faster than the snow was falling. The idea of David and his little boy being dead and buried under the snow chilled him more than the harsh weather ever could have done. Nick's suggestion presented him with the grisly visual that they might have already passed wherever David and Michael had succumbed. The image of walking over their frozen bodies, hard and crystalline under the snow pack, made his stomach feel queasy.

"Jesus, I hope not," he inhaled deeply and passed the lighter to Nick.

"David Carson is one of the most responsible men in Breystaff," Nick said as smoke jetted from his nostrils, "I've known him since I moved here and he's never been anything but safe," he shook his head and added, "Even to a fault."




Lycanthrope Ch. 02



"I can't imagine what his wife is going through," Travis said.

Nick leaned back against the snow-frosted truck and sighed.

Travis had never really known Nick Miller all that well. The Englishman was enigmatic and something of a town mystery. All anyone knew for sure was that he was from a small town just outside London called Olenshire and that he was a book dealer. When he set up shop just down the street from the Timberline Bank, a lot of people thought he was out of his mind. For a small city like Breystaff, where the literacy of the average person was usually always somewhere between the sports page of the Redding Record Searchlight and MAD magazine, the peddling of Dickens, Shakespeare and Brown seemed a fool's errand.

But Nick had prospered. The spring and summer seasons were good for well-to-do tourists from down south, temporary immigrants seeking refuge from places like Los Angeles, San Francisco and Sacramento. He'd managed to keep his quaint bookstore alive in a town were two or three new businesses opened and folded with a fiscal year. 

Travis had been in a few times during his last year in high school looking for old hardbacks by Stephen King and Dean Koontz. Beyond their mutual appreciation for King's work, they hadn't talked about much else. Travis had heard a rumor Nick was gay, which was fine by his accounting. Live and let love. It wasn't for him to judge. But every so often, mostly when he was on his way home from school he would see Nick talking up women he had never seen before. They were always from out of town, and always far more beautiful than anyone living in the city limits.

'He imports his women,' Carter had been fond saying, 'When you're eccentric and rich enough, you can import anything.'

Travis figured that was probably as close to the truth as any could get. Next to the Carson and their waste disposal monopoly, Nick Miller was probably the most successful man in town. A lot of the single women had cast their bids to gain his attention, but he politely and effortlessly disengaged them. It was as though Nick Miller wanted nothing to do with the women of Breystaff. With the exception of a few, Travis could understand that. When every girl walking through your door had dollar signs across her eyes, it was hard to find genuine companionship.

"I think I hear a snowmobile," Nick said quietly.

In the distance, the low snarl of a motor working hard floated through the woods and met their ears.

"It's Hubbard," Brain called to them and waved his flashlight.

"Turn on the headlights," Nick said suddenly and began sweeping the snow away from the front end of the truck.

Travis opened the driver's side door again and felt around for the light control. The snow on the windshield lit up as the lights came on. Nick stood back from the burning lights and smiled, "A little extra illumination so good Mr. Hubbard doesn't pass us by."

"Fine by me," Travis said, "I don't want to be out here any longer than we have to be."

Through the trees down the road, Travis could see a bright headlight twinkling and speeding towards the curve in the road. Hubbard was indeed coming fast, the roar from his snowmobile engine loud and grating. Carter motioned for them to join him by the roadside as the snowmobile rounded the curve and came into full view. Travis and Nick hurried back to the road as Hubbard slowed to a stop in front of them.

"Hell of a storm," he breathed and disengaged the ignition. He popped his goggles off and rested them on the forehead of his snowcap, "Walsh says you found the truck?"

Nick motioned back into the woods, "There."

Frank Hubbard looked to the truck and its headlights. He scratched his dark beard and shook his head, "No sign of David or the boy?"

"None," Carter said, "Anybody find anything further down the road."

"No," Hubbard said regretfully, "I'm sorry, Carter."

The four men spoke for a few minutes more. As they did, a set of green eyes watched from one of the thick trees above them. The creature recognized the scent of the man, of Travis Goldsmith as readily as it did the scent of his woman. A fire burned deep in his gut as he waited patiently. The creature could sense the irony of them coming to this place. It was the place he had made his first kills. It was the place he had first become.

It was the place where he would now feed.

***

"Eve," Catalina asked as she locked the front door of the clinic and closed the blinds, "Do you think they're okay out there?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Eve said, thumbing through the latest issue of People magazine, "Did you know that Brittany Spears little sister is pregnant?"

"No," Cat looked out the large windows of the lounge. She wished Travis were with her, not out in the cold.

"I mean this is bullshit," Eve shrugged, "She's sixteen for crying out loud. Those Spears girls are messed up. Know what I mean?"

"No," Cat repeated, her mind a million miles away. Her fingers graced behind her ear and felt the wound there. She couldn't remember getting it during the altercation on the highway the night before. Had Travis not noticed it, she probably wouldn't have even realized it was there. The small cut felt hard and narrow under her fingertips, scabbed over and healing.

"One sister is ape shit crazy and the other is knocked up," Eve laughed, "You watch, the next thing we'll hear is Brittany is pregnant again. You watch."

Cat stood at the window and watched the snowfall. She could feel a pressure in the back of her mind, something powerful and hot trying to birth itself. Perhaps it was a memory, or just the overwhelming ramifications of what she and Travis had done last night finally hitting her. She crossed her arms across her chest and sighed. She had enjoyed every last minutes of her time with Travis. She felt more alive now than she had in years.

And yet, something was wrong.

Her thoughts drifted to Travis and the night they had shared. She recalled the heat and touch of his naked body to hers, they way he looked during the act and restraint on his face before an orgasm. She felt herself becoming hot at the recollection and she shifted her weight onto one leg, hip jutted out and one finger to her lips. She was keenly aware of how aroused she was becoming. The slick heat between her lips, seeping out from within her demanding sex was both wonderful and agonizing.

And then something happened. She could still hear Eve going about the fucked up Spears sisters but she was no longer listening or even in the clinic for that matter. She was in the middle of the woods. She could feel the snow falling on her and she could feel the icy wind against her legs. Cat shivered and drew her arms tightly to her. It was as though she had left her body and was somewhere else entirely, yet in two places at once. Her mind reeled as she viewed both the clinic and the woods at the same time.

As her body stood in the middle of the clinic lounge, she breathed deeply. From her lips came the frosty mist of a cold December's night. Through this double vision, she looked to the wall and saw the thermostat was still set at seventy-five degrees.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words.

At her feet was the ghostly apparition of snow, thick and cold against her legs. It was red snow. The snow was soaked with blood. Her stomach flipped as she looked across the snowy pack and saw a body lying before her. It was the body of a small person, short and no larger than a child. His face was gone, a dark bloody mess of tissue, muscle and bone. But she could see eyes.

'The boy,' she clapped her hand to her mouth, 'Michael...'

A bloody trail of red led off into the shadows, punctuated by odd footprints she didn't immediately recognize. She wanted to follow the tracks, but could not move. Her body was not her own anymore. She was as frozen as the water falling from the night's sky. She looked back at the snow. There was so much blood.

'Oh please Jesus no,' she prayed.

Then something caught her attention to her left.

Voices met her ears, and she recognized the deep tones of Travis Goldsmith immediately. She looked and saw him standing with three other men in the snowstorm, huddling and talking. The man on the red snowmobile was Frank Hubbard. She recognized him because he brought his old bloodhound Cooter in every fifteenth of every month to have his nails clipped. Beside him stood Nick Miller, the book dealer and then one of the Carson kids, probably Carter by the looks of him.

'Travis!' she called out, but only heard the groan of the north winds through the evergreens.

'Travis!'

And then Cat heard a low, wet growl.

It surrounded her and soaked her being. Her heart skipped several beats as she looked around. Sometimes the woods would give way to the reality of the clinic and then back to the dark forest. She could still see Eve sitting behind the front desk, the magazine raised up and her lips working silently as she talked. The image of her glimmered transparent and gave way to what lay beyond her. The woods became visible again like the bottom of a pond through ripples of water and she could see glowing eyes.

'The thing from the road,' she thought, 'It's there...'

She turned to warn Travis but could find sound in her throat. 

'This has to be a dream,' she thought.

The creature emerged from the shadows of the trees, walking slowly and gingerly on all fours, stalking the men by the road. She stared at the creature and recognized the thick dark fur and the bushy wolf's tail. It moved a quietly as the snow fell to the ground. It's massive, primate-like paws sunk into the snow pack an inch or two and then moved forward. Thick ropes of drool hung from its maw, dribbling from pink gums and a black muzzle.

And those emerald eyes looked right through her.

'What are you?' she whispered silently as the wolf neared her. It was huge, even larger than she remembered it being. It was like a man, only not so much as one could classify as it a man. Still, it watched with a curiosity and anticipation of a death row serial killer. The wolf licked its chops and then passed right through Catalina's body.

She gasped as the body of the creature traveled through her own. She could feel the fur and the powerful beat of its heart, thundering like a drum and yet steady, calm and in control. The wound behind her ear split and began bleeding, a sharp stab of pain shooting through her skull. Catalina felt dizzy, as though she might pass out as the wolf finished its passage and continued on.

It was going to kill them.

She knew it.

She could feel it.

She could feel it as though it had been her own impulse.

"No!" she cried out.

Eve jumped up out of her seat, nearly falling over backwards as the magazine fell from her hands. The black office chair she had been sitting rolled back to the wall and rebounded as she looked at Cat wide eyed, "What's wrong?"

Cat was back in the clinic, her body freezing and yet warm. She looked around, feeling dizzy and nauseated as though she had been a roller coaster ride. She could still smell the wet fur and the carrion breath of the beast as she turned and grasped the counter of the front desk for support. Her hands were shaking badly and she was dimly aware of the cold sweat that had broken out over her body. Eve hurried around the desk and held her arms.

"Cat?" Eve asked her, "Cat, you okay?"

"I don't know," she put a hand to her mouth. Her fingers were as cold as ice cubes.

"Jesus, you're shaking," Eve said and then, "Oh my God, you're bleeding."

Cat reached up behind her right ear. She didn't even to wonder from where she was bleeding. She already knew. On her fingertips was a smear of dark blood, more than should have come from an already healing wound.

"Cat?" Eve turned her around to look at her, "Catalina?"

Cat felt as though she might pass out, but she steadied herself and said, "I'll be okay."

"Like shit you will," Eve replied, "Sit down."

"In the woods," Cat said, her vision still blurry from the phenomenon she had just undergone, "I saw them in the woods."

"Saw who?"

"Travis," she said, "I saw Travis and Nick and-"

She could see the green eyes again, feral and hungry.

"Oh God," she grabbed Eve and pushed her away as gently as she could. Cat nearly stumbled behind the front desk and grabbed the phone. Her fingers felt a thousand miles away as she tried to dial out.

"What is it?" Eve nearly shouted, "You're scaring me, Doc."

"The boy, he's dead!"

"Who? Michael Carson?"

"Yes! He's in the woods and-"

"Cat, wait a minute..."

"It's after them," she breathed as she punched in the numbers for 911, "It's coming."

"It?" Eve looked at her incredulously, "I think you better slow down."

"Godammit I saw it!" Cat yelled at her. Eve shrunk back, her hands up inoffensively.

"Doc," she said calmly, "You've been here the whole time."

Cat waited for the phone to ring, but was greeted by silence on the end of the line. She waited a few more seconds and slammed the phone down, "Nothing fucking works!"

"Catalina," Eve said, "Calm down. What did you see?"

"I saw a werew-" Cat stopped herself. She had almost said it. It was beyond belief, but she had nearly come out and named the beast by its popular moniker. Cat shook her head and sat down in the receptionist's chair. After a few moments, she said, "I need to borrow your car."

"How about no, doctor?"

"Eve, please."

"Look outside, Cat," she pointed to the windows, "We'll be lucky if we can get home in the next fifteen minutes let alone drive out to the logging road and check on them."

"But-"

"Cat," she said calmly yet firmly, "You probably had a waking dream. How much sleep did you get last night?"

"None."

"That's because you were having sex all night long," Eve laughed, trying to lighten the mood even though the mention of the event made her stomach flip, "You need some shut eye. That's all."

Cat looked at her. It all felt too real to be a dream. It couldn't be a dream.

"Besides, with David and his little boy missing your brain is probably making up worse case scenarios."

"Maybe," Catalina sighed and looked to the floor. She said, "I don't feel so good."

"There's a news flash," Eve smiled warmly, her eyes still wary of her friend's odd behavior, "You're pale and sweating and bleeding."

Cat looked down at the blood on her fingers. It was so red against her color-drained skin. She said, "I think I'm going to go lay down for a few minutes."

Eve nodded, "That's a good idea."

Cat stepped out of the lounge and down the hall to her small office. Once the door was closed and locked, she sat down heavily in her chair and put her hands to her face. The blood on her fingers smeared across her forehead like some kind of pagan mark. She no longer cared. She could still see the eyes of the dead man and boy in the snow. She could still feel the green gaze of the wolf on her. Travis was out there with that thing. Or was he? Either way, there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She felt so confused, like she had been drugged.

"What is wrong with me?"

***

Travis looked back at the truck, "I have a bad feeling about this. It doesn't feel right."

Hubbard grunted, "As if anything should feel right about it."

"Can we expect the Sheriff and a plow coming out this way anytime soon?" Nick asked as he finished the last of his cigarette.

"I imagine so," Hubbard scratched his bearded chin, "You guys had better head back down the road before your ride gets snowed in."

"Where the hell could Dave had gone off too?" Carter muttered.

"Have a little faith," Travis patted his friend on the back, though he couldn't bring himself to take his own advice.

"Well gentlemen," Nick said softly, "Let's get going shall we?"

And then something splattered across Nick's face. Travis only saw the blood mere seconds before something big knocked him over. The world spun and he was in the snow, his ribs aching and his eyes sparkling with stars. He could hear a scream and Carter scrambling backwards in the drift. Travis got up in what felt like slow motion, blood-soaked snow caked to his clothes, and looked around.

Nick was still standing in front of the snowmobile, partially illuminated by the bright headlight. He was streaked with blood, and Travis thought for a minute Nick had been wounded. He blinked, "Nick?"

Nick only looked at him, his blue eyes wide and dumbstruck. He shook his head then looked over to where Frank Hubbard had been sitting a moment earlier. The owner of Hubbard's Hardware was gone. Travis staggered over to the empty saddle seat and grabbed the handle grips of the snowmobile. He looked around frantically and saw more blood on the gauges and small windshield of the compact machine.

"What the fuck?!" Carter wheezed from his place in the snow, on his ass and mouth wide open, "What the fuck was it?"

Nick, still dazed only stood there and touched his bloody face.

Travis looked over the snowmobile and to the road beyond. The snow was unbroken save for some dark patches where the life had been torn from Hubbard's body. And then, fifteen feet away he saw trampled snow. He hurried over to where whatever had snagged Hubbard had landed. He couldn't wrap his mind around the distance. Fifteen feet in the air before it had landed, carrying a grown man.

From the landing site on into the woods were tracks. Travis had never hunted before, but he knew animal tracks when he saw them. More blood was pooled here and there on the top of the icy pack, ugly, steaming and black in the muted evening light against a bluish sea of snow. His heart was pounding in his ears as he took a few tentative steps towards the woods. He could hear the rustling of bushes and snapping of dead branches. Something was moving fast, impossibly fast through the forest.

"Travis," Nick said finally, "Hubbard?"

In the shadows of the winter-laden woods, a man screamed.

"Get on the snowmobile," Travis said.

He turned and saw Carter looking at him from the snow, still in shock.

"Now!"

The three men scrambled for the snowmobile as more screeches and howls came from the woods, echoing and reverberating like phantom wails. Travis started the ignition and the snowmobile roared to life. Carter had his arms wrapped around Travis's waist and Nick was pretty much standing on his knees on the two side running covers for the treads.

Snow sprayed everywhere and they were off down the logging road as fast as Travis could make the damn thing go.

"What about Hubbard?" Nick yelled from the rear.

"That thing got him!" Carter shouted back angrily, "Didn't you fucking see it!"

"We can't leave him back there," Nick insisted.

"You fucking go back, man!" Carter hissed, and then followed with a miserable moan, "Oh shit, Travis."

"What?"

"It's following us!"

Travis looked back over his shoulder at the world speeding away from them. In the dim blue light of the winter night, just beyond the grimacing faces of Carter Carson and Nick Miller there was a dark figure running after them. No, it was more bounding after them, the way a wolf runs at high speed. All four legs touch the ground only to spring the body forward. He could just barely make out the tail and the pointed ears.

But it was the green eyes, burning like two demonic coals in the living shadow that made Travis believe what his mind was insisting wasn't true.

"Go!" Carter screamed in his ear, "Go, go, go!!!"

***

As Catalina waited in her office for Eve to finish locking up, she found discovered that her heart was beating fast. She knew she had fallen asleep, but she felt awake and alive and filled with energy. She was running. She was running fast, chasing them down. As the dream played out, Catalina leaned back in her chair, head tilted back so far over the back of the chair that the cords in her neck bulged out. A smile crossed her face.




Lycanthrope Ch. 02



She could taste blood in her mouth. It was warm and metallic, succulently delicious. She wanted more.

She was on all fours now, chasing her prey in the dark. Their fear was potent, radiating off them and making so easy to follow. Not that she needed their scent. She could see them in a cloud of green vision. They were yelling and panicking.

Catalina's hands grabbed the arms of the chair, her fingernails digging into the leather and split it open. Her smiled became a leer as fresh sweat broke out over her face and neck, the veins in her neck and arms throbbing. There was a slick wetness forming between her legs, her sex excited and suddenly very much aware. She felt energized, almost giddy as adrenaline coursed through her in powerful orgasmic waves.

A guttural moan escaped her open mouth as her fingers reached for her dress, pulling at the fabric. She ripped her top and bra open with a strength she did not she had, her body on fire and glimmering with sweat as she writhed in her seat. Buttons from her lab coat flew away and clattered in the shadows. She could feel the orgasm coming quickly. It electrified her being in an angry yet oh so needful living nerve.

She ran faster.

***

The creature chasing them was so close Travis could hear it panting and snarling behind them. He had no doubt it was the thing from the roadside last night. He remembered the growls it made and the way it moved. This thing was just as quick and just as big. The snowmobile was doing thirty-five miles an hour now. Wind whipped at his face and snow stung his skin. They were almost to the bottom of the logging road.

"Faster!" Nick cried out, "Go faster Travis!"

Without thinking, Travis fumbled into his coat pocket and fished out the flare gun. The handle bar of the snowmobile jerked and fought against his one-handed grip as they sped down the road. The flare gun felt clumsy and heavy in his gloved hand as he gripped it and put his index finger through the small trigger guard and readied himself. He could almost see the end of the road. Just one more turn.

The curve ahead was tight and not made with speed in mind. Travis throttled down and tightened his grip on the gun. He knew they wouldn't make the curve. Not by a long shot.

"Everybody hang on," he shouted and steered the snowmobile towards the embankment of the road. He turned and brought the gun to bear, but he was not ready for what he saw. The werewolf was leaping at them, mouth open and jaws slavering thick ropes of saliva. It roared, the same roar that had scared the living hell out of Travis the night before. The green eyes were wide open and almost gleeful of the impending kill.

Travis aimed for one of those eyes, the right one, and fired the flare.

The shot rang out followed by a suddenly explosion of pink color and sparks. Nick and Carter ducked to their left and shielded their eyes as the flare struck the wolf dead on in the face. A high-pitched yelp pierced their ears and it was gone. It was gone as quickly as it had arrived, disappeared into the shadows. Travis saw the sparkling flare speeding off into the woods, smoking and clearly lodged in the beast's body.

He laughed and turned around. The snowmobile hit the embankment and he was airborne. The rest just blurred away to the sound of branches breaking and snow in his face.

And then all was dark.

***

Catalina sat up in her chair, her body stiff and her clothes pasted to her body with sweat. She wheezed, the taste of smoke in her mouth. And then she felt the pain in her eyes. She uttered a silent cry of agony and cupped her hands to her right eye, lips drawn back in a pained grimace. Her glasses fell to the floor and were nearly run over as her feet stomped to the floor. Air sucked into her lungs through gritted teeth as she pushed herself away from the desk.

"Oh shit," she cried. After a moment, she looked down at herself and saw what she had done to her top. Fresh bloody claw marks were torn across her chest and over the swells of her breast. As if taking a cue from the visual realization of her self-inflicted wounds, pain suddenly shot through her torso.

"Oh Jesus," she prayed, "What have I done?"

... to be continued...