The Beast Within (13 page)

“And there’s how your face changed.” Tony caught his surprise. “Yeah, I saw. Your face didn’t shift, just your eyes and teeth. And you had claws, but no fur. That’s not normal for you, is it?”

“No.” The unsettled feeling that had been growing in his stomach since they had found the cabin in the woods turned to twisting fear. “I’m changing. Something’s changing me. And I think it’s the same thing that’s changing Six Rivers. In fact, I think it changed me right when we were being chased. Something was nearby. I could feel it.”

“Do you think it could have affected Carlos, or any of your clan?”

“We’ll ask tonight.” Aaron put a hand on his forehead. His thoughts turned to dull slush in his head. “Is it okay if I—?”

“Go get some rest in my bed,” Tony offered. He didn’t follow up with any wisecracks. “I’ll wake you if anything exciting happens. Or if I order pizza, which is pretty much the same thing.”

Aaron smiled. Without thinking he reached out and brushed Tony’s face with his fingers. Embarrassed, he let his hand drop away.

“Let me know if you need me,” Aaron said. Realizing the second inferable meaning to this, he quickly turned and headed for the staircase.

Aaron kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the steel gray comforter. The pillow smelled of Tony, warm and manly, with a slight hint of crisp aftershave. He pressed his cheek against the cool cotton. Egyptian. Tony liked his luxuries. His mind drifted to the drawer of DVDs he had found the day before, and again a deep curiosity stirred inside him. The dark thing once again suggested maybe Tony should be the one pinned down, mastered, fucked. His dick rose to half-mast before sleep began pulling at him.

Why didn’t he give Tony another chance? After today it was clear he was an ally. And the thought of driving himself into that perfect ass was enough to make him half-crazy with lust. He ran his hand over his sensitive, but still frustratingly softening cock. Why didn’t he…?

He drifted away, lulled by the metallic snap of Tony loading clips in the room below.

* * * *

Children in wolf skins ran around a campfire, howling and snarling at the shadow lurking deep inside the flames. The beast rose up with the conflagration, spreading its arms to the sky, blocking out the stars. The only brightness came from the fire at its feet, yet even that no longer shed light on the children. The shadow being plucked them up, one at a time, and tossed them down its pitch throat. It rumbled in pleasure, the sound at first like that of an approaching train, but as it built turned into a howl so piercing it shattered the black sky, raining down chunks of midnight glass, exposing the gaping abyss above.

Aaron thrashed awake, unable to stop the strangled cry before it escaped his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Tony’s voice came from the far side of the darkened loft.

“What…? What time is it?” he croaked, sitting up.

“Late.” Tony came closer, his body a shadow over the bed. “You were dreaming.”

“The light, please.” After his nightmares the darkness was always too dark. A lamp clicked on to show Tony standing bare-chested above him. “Thank you.”

“Better?” Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. His hip rested against Aaron’s leg.

“Yes.”

“Better than this?” Tony leaned in and touched Aaron’s mouth with his own. It was a light, tentative touch. He pulled back just enough for Aaron to focus on his face.

Aaron shook his head, too afraid to speak.

“Even better, this way?” Tony leaned in again and ran his tongue slowly across the line of Aaron’s closed lips.

He gave in to the pressure of the caress and let Tony press his mouth against his and kiss him deeply. Aaron’s cock jolted. His entire lower body seemed comprised of one screaming nerve that ran directly into his dick. With each stroke of Tony’s tongue against his own, the nerves shot a wave of cramping pleasure into his groin.

He broke contact, moved to the hot skin beneath Tony’s ear and moaned his partner’s name.

“Tony.”

* * * *

”I like it when you say my name that way.”

Aaron awoke to Tony’s gentle shake. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hip pressed against Aaron’s thigh. Aaron looked at Tony, unsure of what to say. He could deny the dream, or at least the meaning behind his moaning Tony’s name like a cat in heat, but the obvious proof to the contrary rested a few inches west of Tony’s hip, where a monstrous bulge strained against the confines of his pants. He was so hard he could see the contours of his cock head.

So that was it. Keep denying his wishes, denying himself, or… He lurched to a sitting position and put his hand on Tony’s neck.

“I want you,” was all he said.

“Carlos is here.”

Tony’s words sliced through the fog of desire. Aaron took a steadying breath and nodded.

“I told them about the forest today. But you should get yourself together and come down.” Tony’s expression mirrored Aaron’s frustration, disappointment and hesitancy. After a moment Tony moved to stand, but Aaron tightened his grip and pulled him in closer so his ear brushed his mouth.

“I want to trust you.” His voice was a growl in Tony’s ear. His teeth elongated and he let them graze Tony’s neck.

“I’ll earn it. I will.” Tony stood and gestured toward the door, indicating that he would handle things downstairs while Aaron put himself to rights.

“Remember when you said you always screwed things up?” Aaron asked softly. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know. Abandonment, mommy and daddy issues.” Tony gave him a shaky grin. “The usual, boring story.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime.”

Tony winced as if in pain. After a prolonged moment of silence he acquiesced. “Yeah, okay.”

“You know this, right here and now?” Aaron added. “This isn’t screwed up.”

“Says the Acqxterm agent slash shapeshifter hanging out in my bed.” Even though Tony replied with his usual deflective grin, his eyes were sober. He patted Aaron’s hand. “Let’s go talk about our wolf problem.”

* * * *

“May I see it?” Carlos avoided looking at Aaron as he came down the stairs and instead held out his hand to Tony.

From his place on the couch next to Carlos, Matthew looked from his lover to Aaron and back, lips pursed. Whether it was in amusement or irritation, Aaron couldn’t tell. He didn’t know Matthew well enough to recognize his subtleties. Tony passed Carlos the parchment they had retrieved from the Trinity clan’s cabin and sat down in one of the opposite chairs. Aaron took the other.

“Hello, Carlos, Matthew,” he said.

“Hello, Aaron,” Carlos said, glancing up only momentarily.

Carlos never called him by his given name, had always used some endearment or another. The fact he used Aaron’s name now meant he had heard the exchange between Tony and him. Aaron didn’t care about being vindictive, nor was his interest in Tony a device for getting Carlos’ attention, but still he couldn’t deny he was a little pleased the alpha, too, felt the sting of an ex-lover rebounding with whiplash speed.

“Good evening,” Matthew said as he leaned over Carlos’ shoulder to study the parchment. His expression immediately clouded. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Carlos asked.

“The symbol,” Matthew said. He traced the form with his finger. “It’s a mark of Hell.”

“Hell?” Tony repeated.

“That would explain the brimstone at Kapre California, and here,” Aaron said. “But, what do denizens of Hell want with werewolves? Aren’t they lower beings to them?”

“I should have clarified,” Matthew said. “It is a mark of a high ranking demon. The legendary father of the wolves.”

“Cerberus?” Carlos asked. “Are you sure?”

Matthew nodded as he frowned at the mark.

“Cerberus, the three-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld?” Tony asked.

“Cerberus, or Kerberos, was the multi-headed hound of the underworld of the Greek and Roman mythology, yes,” Carlos answered. “But that is just a legend, a facet of his true identity worked into their personal religion. There are numerous accounts of hellhounds across all cultures, most of them due in some part to Cerberus’ actual influence over past events.”

“But,” Matthew picked up the thread, “he is a very real demon of the highest order. He has access to all of the links between dimensions, and is thusly the guardian of the gates, which is where his Greek title comes into play.”

“He’s in many stories, including werewolf legend,” Carlos said. He placed the parchment on the coffee table. “Did I ever tell you the legend of the first wolf, Aaron?”

“I don’t think so. I remember you telling me lots of stories when I was having my panic attacks, but I don’t remember anything about a wolf.”

“I guess it wouldn’t have been a soothing topic,” Carlos agreed. “Well, there is a tale that has been handed down through the werewolf lines. It was, like the tale of Cerberus, once taken as gospel but slowly became myth among shifters and nothing more. The old ones told it like this—

“The first were was a demon, a massive doglike creature that skulked through the blackness that lies between dimensions”—Carlos relaxed back into his chair, his voice taking on the melodic rhythm that had many nights eased into Aaron’s world of unspeakable terror and lulled him for a short while—“always cold, always yearning to fill the vortex in his chest caused by the isolation of his depthless home, the creature prowled the dimensions, wishing for warmth, searching for companionship. When it reached our world it saw the sun and rushed out to greet it. But, the light caused it great pain and burned its fur black. The creature retreated to the gateway and hid in the shadows until nightfall. Darkness came, and yet another bright orb lit the sky. Except this one did not burn. The creature ran under its glow, happy to feel the leaves under its paws, the trees rustling overhead, the illumination caressing its back. When daylight came, the creature retreated to its gateway to await the moon’s rise. After a few nights however, the moon began to shrink, its light lessened. Soon, it became a sliver, and the next night was gone. The creature’s world was again dark.

“Bereft that it was once more plunged into cold darkness, the creature began walking aimlessly. After a time it saw a warm, non-threatening glow in the distance. The creature had found humans, and fire. While it was ecstatic, the humans were terrified to see a large, black, wolflike creature stalking toward them. They grabbed branches of fire and waved them while they fled, screaming. A young woman, however, saw the grief in its eyes and took pity on the beast. She invited it to share the light of her fire. In exchange, the creature offered her his own warmth. She consented and the creature swallowed her whole. So happy was the creature to have such close company that it curled up to sleep and did not awaken even with the sunrise, and soon burned to a char. When nightfall came the unharmed young woman climbed out of the creature’s ashen form. For keeping company with a devil, her people forsook her. They forced her back into the winter woodland where she lived off tree bark and pine needle tea. She suffered greatly. Twenty-eight days later, she was nearly dead of starvation. The sun set and the full moon rose overhead. The starving young woman, blessed by the creature, shifted into a wolf. She hunted that night and ate her fill of the forest’s creatures. No longer trusting humans she remained in the woods, living like a wolf even in human form. She attacked any human that crossed her path while shifted. Those who survived her bites were worthy of the creature’s gift, and they too, shifted at the full moon and ran through the leaves under the stars. And the creature’s soul, carried in the hearts and blood of its children, was never alone again.”

“Which is all utter bull, of course,” Matthew said. “We have what most would call a disease, a contagious genetic mutation.”

“But, where did it come from,
cielito
?” Carlos asked. “Is it simply a virus, this mystical power we have? We have seen magic. Aaron and Tony here work with it each day. Demons and other inexplicable creatures fall at their hands. We were just speaking casually of Hell. Yet you think we are just diseased?”

Carlos’ indulgent smile seemed to irritate Matthew. “I’m not saying there isn’t a mystical element, but when something is transmitted from person to person it’s generally thought of as a virus.”

“That may be so,” Carlos conceded, but it was clear he did so only to placate his boyfriend rather than out of being convinced otherwise. “However we wish to view our condition, we are talking about the legend itself, and it gives us some real information about Cerberus, such as his ability to move between worlds, and the brimstone that marks his arrival. Those who have seen him appear say a shadow rises from a spontaneous deflagration that extinguishes soon after the shadowy feet leave the embers.”

“Leaving behind a circle of brimstone,” Tony said.

Aaron tuned them out. His mind replayed the dream of the shadow emerging from the fire and consuming the little wolf children. His thoughts turned back to the sigil on the parchment and the signatures above it, and the grimoire with the summoning spell.

“He is helping them to be better wolves. Stronger.” He wasn’t aware he had spoken out loud until the room quieted. “That’s how the shifters in the forest could run faster. With Cerberus’ help, they’re making a move to unite all of the weres under Six Rivers control, and they’re destroying Kapre agencies because we’re the only force with enough power to stop them. Cerberus is giving them magic, or sharing his own in Matthew’s germ warfare theory…” Aaron sat back, stunned.

“And this back-to-basics nonsense with Six Rivers, whose idea was that? Theirs or Cerberus’?” Tony asked.

“Does it matter?” Matthew sighed.

“It does if it means their endgames are different,” Carlos answered. “We know what Six Rivers wants, control. But what about Cerberus?”

“If he isn’t happy playing servant to a bunch of weres, and I don’t know why he would be, then he has his own agenda. And I doubt it’ll be a friendlier plan than what Six Rivers has been hatching,” Tony said.