Chapter Two Jasper
“Jasper. Are you leaving so soon?”
“Yeah, I’m... I’m tired.”
I’m an anchorman in a small town that feels larger during the academic year, thanks to an influx of a couple of thousand college kids.
I’m also the community events reporter for the newspaper, the weatherman, the roving reporter, and the voice of the morning commute on the local radio station.
I’m not supposed to admit I’m tired. I’m a werewolf, for one thing.
We have a high energy level. I’m thirty-five, and I have the energy of a college kid.
And the skin firmness of one, too, not to brag. I flash a momentary smile at the glittering mirrored wall, glowing gold with the light of chandeliers and champagne flutes.
The smile can’t stick.
I’m the local charmer. I’m not supposed to drop my smile or lose my announcer voice, but...
“I understand. I like early nights, too, sometimes,” Mr. Minegold, our diplomatic and civic-minded local vampire, says. He claps my shoulder as couples swirl across the ballroom. “I’ll walk you out.”
“You wanna come with? Go split a beer?”
“I’m going to stay. Tonight is a good one. Another year with a safe Halloween, thank God...”
“I’ll drink to that.” I tip my champagne back and give a little nod to the Big Guy for keeping the dark and demonic on a leash and keeping paranormal-friendly Pine Ridge pretty chill for the most part.
“Why so glum?”
How am I supposed to tell the guy who sacrificed his life to save his wife and kids that I’m lonely?
“Matters of the heart?” Mr. Minegold looks around the room. “Sera is looking lovely tonight, don’t you think?”
I look at Sera, with her raven hair and her delicate white skin, her ethereal aura...
“She’s something else, Jakob, but not my something else.
I need... I don’t know what I need. A pack of my own to protect.
A mate to mark. All that jazz. It’s not happening with the three-piece suit and headset life.
Maybe I ought to trade it in for a bike and tattoos.
Seems to work. All the girls want a bad boy, right?
” I swipe another shrimp puff from a tray as it goes past. “I guess I need to start growling, cursing, and eating... I don’t know. Wings and pork rinds?”
Jakob shakes his head. “I was a violinist and a teacher. I know as much about ‘bad boys’ as I do about running a sunny holiday resort in the tropics.”
“Yeah, that’d be tricky for someone sunlight-challenged.”
“I know that most women don’t like men to be bad to them.
I’ve seen a few women who like to know that their men possess the strength to do a dark deed if called upon.
” His eyes drift far away. “I am happy Magda doesn’t know what I did to save her, but I know that any blood I’ve spilled protected innocents.
Violent deeds, necessary deeds, for good purposes.
There has never been a day when I thought I would have won her heart by being evil.
You don’t think that, either. But...” Minegold smirks.
“If you do get a motorcycle, may I have a go?”
“Any time, Jakob. Hey, who is taking the Night Watch?”
“Liam Icarus and Ian Fenclan have the first shift, and Sera and I have the second. Liam is covering Jax Alley and the campus. Ian is handling the town.”
Ian Fenclan, a mountain of an Orc, waltzes past with his petite little wife.
Their love has lasted decades. They have kids in their thirties. They deserve a night together, another night of many. “Tell Ian I’m covering for him. It’ll give me something to do besides mope and howl at the moon,” I kid.
But I’m not kidding.
Minegold gives me a sympathetic nod. “He’ll appreciate that.
Keep an eye out for straggling trick-or-treaters.
Sometimes we get out-of-towners passing through.
” He looks around uneasily, a patient shepherd mentally counting his “flock” of normal townies and members of the supernatural community.
Not everyone is here, of course. While our town is small compared to many in New York state, it still has a few thousand people—especially when the campus at NYU Pine Ridge is full.
“I’ll keep an eye out. Even if someone did wander into town, there’s nothing—”
Jakob coughs violently. “Do not speak it into being,” he mutters.
I nod. Our town is on three intersecting Ley Lines, meaning it’s an energy buffet that pulls supernatural beings here like flies to ripe fruit.
Good ones. And bad ones. The good ones stay and settle, relieved to have a happy, safe home where they can live without worrying too much about being “seen” or exposing their families to the more corrupted supernatural beings.
The evil ones... Well, that’s what the Night Watch is for.
We don’t let them stay and feed on our people.
Maybe I’m just looking to punch something tonight...
I grab my coat and pull it on over my suit.
I’m not in costume tonight—I get to put on an outfit I can’t shake for three nights of the month as it is.
Outside, the air has a bite, and my teeth, just slightly more pointed at the canines than other humans’, itch.
A little part of me wishes it were the full moon.
I can feel the beast riding in my blood, running under my skin, aching for a chase, a hunt. .. But never a kill.
I let the stiff breeze blow out the carefully brushed hair, that perfect Clark Kent do. Mild-mannered reporter wants to bite—the soft neck of his mate, pumping her full of me, my claw-tipped fingers meshed with hers.
My heavy sigh sounds like a deep growl. Unlike shifters, I can’t pull the wolf that inhabits me to the front at any moment, but I can always feel him in my soul, sometimes resting, sometimes impatiently waiting, wild and hungry.
Right now, the full moon is only five days away, and the wakefulness increases.
I can feel the tug. I can feel little shifts, like a fast heartbeat, a greater urge to run and roam.
I can see the changes sometimes, subtle little things that won’t give my true nature away, like an extra gold tint in my irises, more hair on my chest..
.more libido than I want, and a slight, bulbous swelling where I really don’t need it.
No one needs to be reminded of a knot they have no purpose for. ..
I take my car and park it on Pine Crest Avenue, near the center of town. I figure that the most likely place for people to congregate will be the Night Market, a collection of stands and stalls set up in the large lot that runs behind The Pine Loft Coffee Shop and Cakes by Claire.
Even the Night Market is barren tonight.
A few sellers remain, and their clients are shadowy and dark, things that move without sound, beings that seldom leave the woods or waters to come to town.
A few college kids are milling around, too, and I can tell that they can’t even see the forms moving around them.
Great. Oblivious people. Most of the world can’t see supernatural creatures. The human mind doesn’t want to break the rules it knows, like monsters aren’t real, but these three seem particularly...
Unenlightened.
I wince as one of them nearly walks into a bog cat, and I hope the feral little fiend doesn't decide to alter his fate.
“Okay. Okay, sweetie, okay...”
My attention is drawn away from Larry, Moe, and Curly by soft, motherly tones and a fretful cry.
Little Red Riding Hood is getting out of her car, directly behind mine.
I blink and pull out an arm hair (it hurts more than pinching).
No, I’m not dreaming.
This not-so-bad wolf is seeing a gorgeous blonde in a tiny red dress and tinier cape rush to the backseat and pull out—a basket of goodies?
A whimpering basket of goodies. A baby under a blanket.
I shouldn’t stare, but I stare.
First off, the woman is incredibly pretty, and the baby is loud; her shrill cries pierce the mostly deserted street. In addition, the woman stinks.
I don’t mean like she’s been chewing straight onions; I mean she reeks of fear. Even the baby smells like fear.
Wolf noses know.
Hell, even the oblivious trio at the market would catch on if they looked.
She’s shaking as she opens the rear of her little hatchback sedan and tucks the blanket on a big case of diapers.
Her head doesn’t stop swiveling. Her cooing words are spoken with shallow puffs of air, soothing words that have no true comfort. The baby knows it, howling louder.
“Um. Excuse me?”
The lady lets out a shriek, and the baby shrieks in chorus.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry! I... Are you okay?” I stand back, hands raised, palms out in the universal “I’m harmless” gesture.
“I... Yes, I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“All right. Well. Happy Halloween.” I back away, but stop after only a few steps.
Something is happening inside of me.
Werewolves like me don’t necessarily have some destined mates like those from old packs who were always werewolves from the dawn of time have.
My family is wolfy on my dad’s side, but that’s only because my grandad got bitten on a camping trip in West Virginia.
It passes down, so I have a wolf, but not all the fancy lore that goes with it.
Still, my instincts are screaming at me.
Pack! Protect this tiny pack! Lone wolf with a pup.
I sniff, and the instincts practically throttle me.
Injured wolf. Lone wolf.
No, the woman isn’t a wolf, but something in me has started thinking of her as a she-wolf.
Thinking of her as my mate.
Which she so clearly is not. There’s a wedding ring on her hand, and her baby is only a few months old.
Anger boils and fades. Where is the man who’s supposed to be protecting his little family?
Wait, maybe that’s why she’s scared. Is her man missing?
I sound like some chauvinist, but my brain doesn’t want to have a discussion about women and their abilities to be equal to men. I know that. Some of the strongest wolves I’ve ever met are women.
But you should always protect your mate and your pups.
“I promise I’m not trying to bug you, but you look—lost. Need any help? I know Pine Ridge really well. Born and raised here,” I offer, hoping I sound suave, yet sincere.
To my surprise, the woman stops, holding her squirming baby on the box of diapers and the blanket pad with one hand while she expertly whips out a diaper from a big sage-green bag. “What’s your name?” she asks.
“Jasper—”
“Wainwright. You did the traffic report tonight.”
“That’s right. Always do the commuter spotlight.
Sorry, I thought you were from out of town.
It’s a small town, and I know a lot of people.
Do a lot of community events,” I conclude with a shrug.
Inwardly, I’m perplexed. I feel like I would have remembered a beauty like this, yet I know she has to be from nearby, or she’d never have heard my report.
Maybe she’s just passing through for the day. “Visiting?”
“Uh. You could say that.” She ducks her head and attends to changing the baby.
“Oh, man! My God!”
“Little Red Riding Hood! Baby, I’ll be your big bad wolf all night long!”
Oh, goody. The oblivious college boys have stumbled out of the market and back to the sidewalk. They have the same reaction I did—at least the basest one. They appreciate her beauty, but the three boys in hoodies, bearing energy-drink smiles, clearly don’t know how to give a compliment.
The woman says nothing. Her limbs are shaking so hard that I fear for the baby’s safety. I step a little closer, and she flinches.
“Hey, lady. Are you here for trick-or-treats? Because I have a treat if you wanna turn a—”
My arm shoots out and connects with the throat of the cockiest college student, the one who so grossly propositioned this visitor to our town, landing hard across his middle.
“I’m so sorry. Jasper Wainwright, WPNR. I’m conducting an interview on holiday customs. I see you fall into the category of believing Halloween is a time to offend women based on their costumes?” I snarl.
“Come on, let’s go. We didn’t mean anything! Geez, some people can’t even take a compliment these days!” The college boys turn and run, the one still bent double being hauled away by his comrades.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Um. Not to be a jerk or give the wrong impression, but you don’t seem all right.
Can I help you? Take you to the police station?
A... Well, nothing is open right now but the supermarket and the Night Market right there.
” I point. “Halloween night in this town is a little different. Most people are celebrating at home.”
“At home.” She repeats the words and then covers her mouth with her elbow, trying to muffle a sudden onslaught of sobs. In the light spilling from the street light, I can see that her slender arm is dotted with bruises.
“Hey. Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you, either,” I soothe, slowly walking forward.
“But I’m a reporter. I have a nose for a story.
Something tells me you have a story to tell, but maybe it’s too scary or sad.
You don’t have to tell me. But... Well, if you need some help, I can find someone to help you. I can help you.”
She looks at me for a long time, the baby now diapered and coming to rest on her shoulder, still fussing. After thirty of the longest seconds of my life, she croaks, “Is it safe to nurse my daughter here? Safe to park here?”
I want to tell her yes, but those idiot boys ruined it. I growl inside, and I’m afraid a little slips out into the windy night. Her short skirt blows to the side, revealing the tippy tops of thighs.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Be a gentleman.
“Contrary to the horrible first impression those dunces made, yes, it is very safe. But not very roomy. My car is parked right here behind yours, and I’m part of the community neighborhood watch group.
I’ll be patrolling around the town, so I’ll keep checking on you to make sure you’re not bothered.
” I hesitate. This sounds crazy, and she’s going to hop back in her car and flee for her life from the crazy Halloween horror she probably thinks I am, but I offer anyway.
“My house is in the development a few miles up the road, here. If you want, you can use my living room for nursing. Or... a place to crash. Use the bathroom?” I back up again.
“I know that sounds creepy, and there’s no pressure to accept.
I just want to make sure you have a place bigger than your car if you need one. ”
As I turn to walk away, I hear a tiny whisper. “You’ll be back around?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll think about it. Thank you.”