Chapter 12 #2
“I learned the signs and triggers, and what to do when I’d see ’em lose their shit.
It probably wasn’t the best thing, but I’d sometimes help ’em get drugs to deal with it.
It’s kinda how I fell down that path myself.
” Roscoe paused and drew in a deep breath through his nose.
“Then the nineteen sixties happened, and a whole new generation this country used up and forgot ended up in my circle of friends. That’s why I’m careful with him, Cody.
It’s always different from person to person, and when you put that kind of trauma in a werewolf, especially one as big as Austin, things get dicey.
He’s the first for me. It’s always been humans. ”
I stared at him, not really knowing what to say.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, taking another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you ever tell me more about your life?”
“Well, one, I can’t remember a lot of it, and two, I didn’t think you cared.”
“Of course I care,” I said, still shocked by how deep Roscoe actually was. “Did you convince him to come with us today?”
“Noooo-ooo,” Roscoe said, his ears falling flat against his head. “And don’t you dare bring it up, okay? We’ll go up there and explain things. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then we should probably look for somewhere else to live.”
“I don’t think Darryl’s house is big enough for all of us.”
Roscoe shook his head. “He’s a last resort. Sure, he offered, but you could tell he wanted his house back to himself. I overstepped enough by dropping in on him like that.”
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Roscoe?”
He grinned sharply and moved in closer. “Wanna eat first, or fuck?”
“What do you think?”
Downtown was busy for a Sunday. People scrambled in and out of shops, and cars packed the parking spots along the street. Adam was unusually contemplative, only giving one-word responses, so I left him alone, but it was weird that Roscoe didn’t have much to say either.
“Oh, I almost forgot. What fake name did you give the bureau for Austin?” I gave Adam a slight tap on the shoulder. “I don’t want to slip up in there.”
“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” he answered with a mischievous grin. “Bernie Blodmann”
Roscoe snorted but didn’t say anything.
“You named him Bernie?” I said, the volume of my voice rising. “He’s going to kill you!”
“The last name’s the best. I was looking up the word for ‘dumbass’ in a translator, and German was the most unassuming.”
“Adam, you idiot! You gave that name to a government agency. Are you insane?”
“He never told me what name he wanted, so I gave him a suitable one.”
I shook my head but tried to keep a straight face. “Did you guys talk at all this morning?”
“What do you think?” he responded with an eye roll. “He said ‘clean yourself up, soldier,’ rolled over, and that was the last coherent thing that came out of his mouth. Whenever I’d try to talk to him, he’d grunt at me. Like usual.”
“What did you say to him?” Roscoe asked.
“Well, I was angry because he finished too fast and didn’t get me off—”
“That’s yer problem right there,” Roscoe interrupted. “Even if he sucks at it, why don’t you try strokin’ his ego a bit?”
Adam glared at Roscoe.
“Hey, just giving you a helpful tip here. I’ve done it all, and I’ve been with more werewolves, humans, and half-turns than I can count. Not all of ’em knew what the hell they were doing, but I learned how to get what I wanted while making ‘em feel like they were the best lay I’d ever had.”
“How the heck do you do that?” Adam asked.
“Well, when it’s over, you tell him how amazing he was, then ask if he’d be up for tryin’ something new. This way, you can teach him what you want while buttering him up. That could lead to more conversation—and better sex. It’s a win-win.”
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the skin on my face so hot it could have boiled water.
“You okay, Cody?” Roscoe asked.
“That was exactly what you said to me after our first night together.”
“Oooo.” Roscoe cringed, his ears folding against his head. “That wasn’t what you think. You were amazing.” He went to wrap his arm around my waist, but I shoved him away.
“Just shut the hell up.”
Adam burst into laughter.
“Oh, like you’re any better,” I snapped.
“How many guys have you been with?” Adam asked, walking a little closer. “You wanna have a fuck-off? I’ll invite every werewolf in town and we’ll see who’s better.”
“You’re the biggest slut I’ve ever met in my life.”
“And that’s why I’m better,” he responded, turning away with his nose up.
The robotic navigation voice on my phone alerted me that I had arrived at my destination. All three of us looked around.
“Where the hell is it?” Adam asked.
I looked at my phone. “Here, I guess.”
In front of us stood a single-floored, red brick building with blacked out windows. It was like all the others, except plain with a rusty drop box out front.
“Even I’ll admit this is kinda janky,” Roscoe said as he strolled up to the entrance. “Probably don’t get much tax revenue here.” He opened the door and waved us through.
I stepped inside with Adam and Roscoe following.
The interior was just as plain as the outside, with seventies-style terrazzo floors and harsh fluorescent lighting.
An antique-looking marquee pointed the way to a few key areas of the building, but all I was concerned with was the arrow pointing at the mayor’s office.
“I guess we go this way,” I said, leading the other two down the eerily quiet hall. “Where the hell is everyone? Even the city hall in Darryl’s town had a guard and metal detector at least.”
“I’m not complaining. There won’t be a line,” Roscoe said.
We stopped at a heavy oak door with a blank bronze name plate screwed into it. “Was he just elected or something?” I asked, giving the door a firm tug.
The warm glow of floor lamps lit the way into a windowless office. It had only a larger-than-normal desk, and an imposing office chair turned toward a television in the corner with Fox News muted on screen. A large, clawed hand snatched the remote from the desk, and the television went dark.
“Welcome to Norwich,” a deep voice said.
“Yer shittin’ me. A werewolf mayor?” Roscoe said, bounding toward the desk. “How the hell’d you manage that?”
The chair turned, revealing an unusually neat-looking werewolf.
He was a dark brown color with a stylishly trimmed ashy mane and well-manicured claws, but the weirdest thing was what he was wearing.
It was a black suit tailored to fit his larger inhuman frame, giving him more of a mob boss appearance than a public servant.
When he stood, he was only a few inches taller than Roscoe, but he had a lot of muscle and an icy stare that made me want to slink away.
His tail had a slight upward curl as it hung from a hole in the black slacks he wore.
As handsome as Darryl was, this guy was on the same level.
“Where’s the fourth?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the clank of the door cut me off. A muscled blond half-turn trudged into the office, swimming in a pair of torn army fatigues barely held up by a belt several sizes too large. In contrast, he also wore a black tank top that was a couple of sizes too small.
“Looks like Bernie made it,” Roscoe said with a snicker. “Little Bernie Blodmann.”
“The fuck?” Austin snapped, baring his teeth which seemed a little too large for his mouth.
“You’re… here,” Adam said, sounding just as stunned as the rest of us. I had no idea werewolves could take that form again.
“I was told Mr. Blodmann was a werewolf.” Though it was slight, the dark mayor slipped in and out of an accent. It sounded almost middle-eastern.
“Bl—Blodmann.” Austin growled, his face turning an alarming shade of red as he grinded his teeth, staring Adam down. “Well, guess there was a fuck-up somewhere.”
The mayor studied Austin. “Sure. It must have been a clerical error.”
“Why are we here?” I asked, pulling the older werewolf’s suspicions off Austin, at least for now. “Does everyone get such a personal welcome?”
He pointed to the hard, wooden chairs around the office before sitting down and crossing one leg over his knee. Despite how intimidating he appeared, the bare clawed feet sticking out of his fancy slacks seemed hilariously out of place.
Each of us took a seat, except for Austin.
“Just blow, you old windbag, so I can leave. I got shit to do,” Austin said, growing antsier by the second. What was going on with him?
“Hmm,” the mayor said, pausing for a full, uncomfortable minute, a menacing grin exposing his exceptionally white canines. “You look rather uncomfortable, Mr. Blodmann. It is not good for a half-turn to be so anxious.”
Whatever Austin was trying to pull was obviously not working on this guy, but the mayor continued to play along, almost as if he enjoyed watching Austin’s discomfort.
“It is not a coincidence you have ended up in this town. I am sure you have heard about the disturbing federal laws that were passed a couple weeks ago.”
The four of us looked at one another. With everything that had been going on, the last thing I’d thought about was keeping tabs on the news.
“We’ve been kinda busy,” Roscoe responded, pointing to the mayor’s oversized blazer. “Aren’t you hot in all that shit?”
The older werewolf exposed the rest of his sharp, white teeth. “Absolutely. Ask your half-turn.”
Roscoe’s ears fell to the sides and his tail slowly slid between his legs. I’d been around werewolves enough lately to know the body language of embarrassment and arousal, and he displayed both.
Roscoe and the others were overly submissive to this stranger, and it didn’t make much sense to me. Austin and Roscoe had no respect for authority, and Adam was always ready to bend over for any werewolf that showed even the slightest bit of dominance. Not this time. He sat straight up, frozen.