The First Alpha, page 3
Or he could at least try. Cassie got the impression this strange newcomer wouldn't allow it.
She waited for the wolf to bite down and finish the mewling wretch of a dog. Death was the only acceptable punishment. The wolf, though, simply gazed calmly at Cassie, stepped back, turned on his heels and padded away, leaving the Doberman whimpering in defeat and what was left of the pack scattering in terror.
Who was this? What kind of creature could leave his attacker alive? What kind of wolf could prove his superiority and then refuse to take the final, decisive bite? What wolf could allow mercy to overcome his pride?
Cassie stood in the clearing for a moment, amazed at the fight she'd witnessed, before realizing with a start that the Doberman may soon recover its courage and decide to exact its revenge on her. She turned and slipped from the clearing, back towards the house. Towards Megan, she told herself. Towards safety.
It was just coincidence that it was also the direction the injured wolf had taken.
*
Cassie followed the stranger's scent and finally found him collapsed against the rough wooden posts of the fence separating the forest from Lucius' garden. He looked as if he'd tried to pull himself through but had fallen before he could reach the perceived safety of civilization; of cut grass, flower beds and garden furniture.
When Cassie arrived he'd already shifted, wincing with pain from the deep, blood soaked wound in his side. She shifted, slipping quickly into human form before remembering she would be naked before him. Another death sentence, were Lucius to find him in her presence.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse and rasping as he remembered how to use speech. Cassie simply nodded. It would be a moment before the fog lifted from her mind and allowed her to form words. Her mind, however, was instantly, painfully human, betraying her with thoughts and wishes she was not permitted to have.
Damn, he's beautiful! she thought, staring dumbly at the man lying before her. Even covered in blood and streaked with dirt he'd been majestic as a wolf, but in human form he was nothing short of perfect. As he lay against the fence posts his muscular chest rose and fell with each panting breath, his olive skin glistening with sweat, his abs flexing hypnotically as he gasped for air. It was all Cassie could do to resist the urge to drop to the ground and lick him clean. Her eyes drifted down to the thick, heavy phallus hanging lazily between his thighs, her gaze resting a moment on the magnificent member before she got a hold of herself and pulled her eyes upwards. Bad girl! Bad, naughty girl!
Thick, dirty chestnut hair fell across the man's brow, covering his eyes and reaching down to his stubble-coated jaw. All Cassie could see of his face was a set of full lips exposing dazzling white teeth as he winced, his beard hiding sexy dimples that deepened as he noticed her staring and began to smile.
"Take your time," he said, grinning roguishly through the pain. He knew all too well that it took a moment to recover from a long shift, but he didn't realize Cassie's dumb silence was more to do with a sudden, unwanted attack of lust than the fog of change.
"Wh... what happened to you?" she asked once she composed herself and remembered how her vocal chords worked. She fell to the wet grass beside him and peered at his wound, instantly regretting the decision as his intoxicatingly masculine scent burrowed deeper into her mind. Between her legs an insistent throbbing began, and she pinched her arm to distract herself from it.
"Damned hunter," the man grunted, attempting to lift himself. "Shot me." He collapsed back to the ground, exhausted, and Cassie barely caught him before he slammed his head into the fence. She lay him gently on the grass, flushing with embarrassment as her firm, pert nipples grazed his arm.
"Hold still, give it a moment. You're still weak." Even as she watched the bullet slid from the wound in his side, and the hole had already begun to close. Now he had time to rest his body would heal of its own accord, but if he tried to push himself he'd only burn through more energy before his wound would fully mend.
"Need to leave," he grunted, raising himself again. "It's not safe here."
Cassie tried to hold him down, but even in his weakened state he was far stronger than her. "Damn it, hold still!" she yelled, surprised at the volume of her own voice. "You're safe. This is my alpha's territory." She took a deep draught of the air to confirm that Lucius was no longer in the house. "Don't worry, he's not here. You can stay until you're well enough to move again."
The man easily pushed her aside as he rose to his side and swept his hair from his eyes to meet hers. "I smell him! I have to leave! Don't you understand, he'll kill me when he finds me!"
Cassie was dumbstruck. The man's emerald green eyes bored into her, stealing the breath from her lips. The beauty of his body had already slayed her, but his eyes gripped her very soul. In those bright, limpid pools she saw unspeakable melancholy, sensed the deep, frozen sadness of a man so far from home, lost and alone. Staring into those eyes she felt her own worries pale into insignificance, a drop in the ocean of his sorrows.
"Thank you for your assistance," he whispered quietly, painfully rising to his feet. "I'm in your debt." Cassie reached out to take his arm, but he shook her off.
She watched as he stumbled weakly toward the trees, paralyzed by the memory of those eyes and filled with longing to gaze into them just once more. She stared after him, unable to speak, and only felt her muscles respond to her commands when she saw him fall to his knees in the long grass and collapse forward onto his face.
"Jesus!" she yelled, slipping in the wet grass as she scrambled to her feet. "Please, stay there! I'm going to get help. Megan!" she yelled, turning towards the house. "Goddammit, get your butt out here!"
This can only lead to trouble, she thought, falling to her knees beside the unconscious stranger.
*
It took Cassie and a constantly protesting Megan ten minutes to drag the hulking form across the wide lawn, and another five to pull him up the back steps and into the kitchen. They could have moved faster had Megan not already dressed, and refused to touch any part of the man stained with blood. By the time they lay him on the wooden floor he was pale and panting, slipping in and out of consciousness. The wound in his side had stopped healing, and drops of blood traced a path from the kitchen back to the forest.
"Cassie, what the hell are we doing? You know Lucius would tear this guy's throat out in a second if he found him here."
Cassie ignored her, running into the pantry to collect an armful of meat and eggs. "Shut up and fetch a frying pan. Now!"
Megan fussed in the kitchen, knocking a stack of dishes to the floor as she fumbled for the pan. "I'm more concerned about what he'll do to me when he finds him. You know Lucius has a temper."
Cassie rushed back in to the kitchen and dumped the pile of food onto the counter, tearing the plastic wrapping from a pack of bacon with her teeth. "Megan, will you just pipe down for a minute? I'll take the heat if it comes to it. I couldn't just leave the guy out there to die, could I?"
"Why not? Better him than us," Megan replied, using a long match to light the flame on the gas stove. "Cass, this is serious. You can't just invite a random guy into your alpha's home."
Cassie dropped strips of bacon into the pan, and within moments the smell of sizzling fat and greasy smoke filled the room. "Megan, I'm not just inviting some stranger in. I'm helping a fellow wolf. Remember, we used to help each other? He's gonna die if he doesn't eat. Now shut the hell up, and if you're too afraid to help just get out of here. Head to the city. You were never here."
Megan hopped from one foot to the other, her flushed face screwed up with worry. Finally she came to a decision. "I'm sorry, Cass, I just can't. Your mother would kill me for this, even if Lucius doesn't. I'm so sorry."
Cassie sighed. She knew Megan would never dare incite the wrath of Lucius, but it was Evelyn she truly feared. Cassie's mother would never physically harm Megan - she couldn't, now she was mortal and weak - but she had ways of making things... difficult for those who got in her way. "It's fine. Just send Rutherford in on your way out, OK?"
"Yeah, sure Cass. I'll send him in. I'll, er... I'll just..."
"Go! Go on, get outta here!"
Megan fled from the kitchen, her swift footsteps echoing as she headed for the front door at a near sprint. There'd be hell to pay when Cassie next saw her, but for now she was more concerned about the man quickly bleeding out on the floor. A glistening pool of crimson spread around his wound and soaked into the pale pine floorboards.
"Are you still with me?" she asked loudly, picking searing hot strips of bacon from the pan with her bare hands. Her fingers burned and her skin turned an angry, throbbing red, but she ignored the pain. The burns would heal in seconds. "What's your name? Come on, talk to me! You need to stay awake. Damn it, what's your name?" An edge of desperation entered her voice. For some reason that went beyond charity she felt it was vital to save him from death. Something told her this was a defining moment of her life.
The man tried to roll over, coating his skin in the sticky blood surrounding him. His lips moved as he whispered.
"I can't hear you. Come on, tell me your name."
"Adam," he managed, his voice weak and wavering. "My name's... Adam." His eyelids fluttered and he looked on the verge of passing out. Cassie abandoned her attempt to pull the bacon onto a plate and instead dragged the hot pan from the stove, dropped it in the middle of the blood pool and began pushing the crackling rashers of meat into his mouth. The blood sizzled in the heat.
"Eat, Adam. Come on, damn it, chew! You need your strength."
Adam coughed as Cassie forced the bacon between his lips. He spat it out, choking, unable to find the energy to swallow, and Cassie worried that she'd reached him too late. She abandoned the pan, reached for a carton of eggs and held him still as she cracked them into his mouth, massaging his throat to force him to swallow the raw yolks.
Moments after he swallowed the first she felt his skin grow warm as his body began to break down the protein into the energy he desperately needed. By the time he'd choked down a dozen she saw the wound in his side had fully closed, and not a moment too soon. The instant the skin closed over the gash his eyes closed, and he fell into a deep sleep.
"Good Lord, there's a naked man on the floor! Is he quite alright?"
Cassie spun around with surprise, almost slipping in the pool of blood seeping into the floorboards. "Oh, Rutherford, it's you! You scared the life out of me!"
An elderly man stood in the doorway, supporting himself on a steel framed walker, his shoulders hunched over with age. He wore a jaunty knitted sweater covered with pictures of snowmen, despite the fact that it was midsummer, and a pair of baggy white boxer shorts. He'd clearly forgotten his trousers again.
"Do you need any help, Miss? I could fetch a blanket for him, if you'd like?"
Cassie smiled wanly and shook her head. "No thank you, Rutherford. He's quite warm enough. Please, come in and rest your feet. Cup of tea?"
Rutherford grinned broadly. "I thought you'd never ask, Miss. I'm parched." He shuffled slowly over to the long pine table in the middle of the room and gingerly lowered himself to a seat as Cassie picked herself up. It appeared he'd already lost interest in Adam now a cup of Earl Grey lay in his future.
"Sorry about the mess, Rutherford. Don't worry, I'll clean up just as soon as we've had our tea."
The old man smiled and waved her away. "Don't you worry about it, young Miss. I'm sure the maid will take care of it. Stephanie, I think she's called. Comes on a Tuesday. Today's Tuesday, isn't it? I'm always forgetting my days."
Cassie shook her head. Forgetting the days of the week were the least of the old man's problems. "No, Rutherford, it's Thur--"
"Pamela! That's her name, Pamela," he interrupted. "Lovely girl. Plays the clarinet. Bit on the... shall we say Rubenesque side, but there's nothing wrong with a good healthy appetite, I've always said. Nothing wrong with a little meat on a girl's bones." His eyes lit up as Cassie placed a teacup in front of him. "Ooh, lovely!" He nodded towards Adam's body, the drooping skin of his neck stretching like an old tortoise. "So, what's his story? He doesn't look too clever."
"He's just visiting, Rutherford. He had an accident in the forest, and he just needs a rest before he moves on." Cassie watched as the old man nodded, perfectly satisfied with the answer. She could have said he was the President of Uganda and he wouldn't have raised an eyebrow, so long as he had a nice hot cup of tea in front of him.
Rutherford peered over the top of him teacup. "Is he one of them werewolves, then? He looks the spit of Master Lucius."
Cassie nodded. She was always surprised at the way the old man's mind worked. Tell him he was the captive of a pack of vicious werewolves who could tear him in two like a sheet of wet paper and he'd simply nod and smile. Tell him there was no more Brie for his crackers and he'd scream bloody murder.
According to Lucius, Rutherford had been the true owner of the house until Lucius had taken it from him. He was a senile, wealthy old Englishman without any living family, and from what Cassie had been able to gather from Lucius he'd made a fortune in shipping before losing his mind and becoming something of a hermit.
Lucius told her he'd simply walked up to the house one day years earlier, before he'd taken over as alpha of the Ironclaws, with the intention of killing Rutherford and squatting in his home. He'd been greeted warmly by the old man at the door, and it quickly became clear that it would be much less messy to convince the addled old man to sign over the deed to his property. Cassie suspected there was more to the story, and she wondered how Lucius had resisted the urge to kill the old man as soon as the house was signed over, but he'd made it clear that further questions would be unwelcome.
In the years since then Rutherford had taken on the role of housekeeper. He seemed to think Lucius was the man of the house, and he seemed quite happy to spend his days trying to help keep the place in order. In fact he did more harm than good, ironing holes in his shirts and forgetting how to dress, but Cassie enjoyed having somebody around to talk to, even if he forgot every word she said after five minutes. Especially because of that. It meant she could spill her problems on him without worrying he'd reveal them to Lucius.
As for this Pamela woman, no doubt she was a distant memory from his past. For obvious reasons no maids visited the house. Despite the strict laws against hunting humans Lucius wouldn't be able to resist the urge to slaughter them whenever he got bored.
"Why's he look like that? Look, he's gone all red." He pointed at Adam's still form, his skin burning as if with a fever.
"He's healing, Rutherford. He was shot by a hunter, and now he needs lots of energy to allow his cells to repair. I'll have to feed him again a little later, but don't worry. He'll be right as rain in a few hours."
"Oh, that's nice," the old man smiled, smacking his lips as he savored his tea. "I do admire how you folks can do that. I remember when Master Lucius' young friend lost those fingers in the wood chipper. I tell you, it was a miracle to watch them grow back like that, just popping out like buds in spring." Cassie nodded silently. She'd heard about the incident, and it hadn't been an accident that Grayson lost his fingers. Lucius had pushed his hand in the chipper for talking back to him.
"Praise the good Lord, I say." The old man took another sip and fell into deep thought for a moment. "I wonder, can you help me do that? Only I've been having trouble with my hip, you see. A visit to the WC after dark is an assault course, I don't mind telling you!"
Cassie chuckled. Rutherford never failed to cheer her up. "I'm sorry, old man, it only works for us. I can offer you a biscuit to go with your tea, though. How does that sound?"
The old man grinned, exposing a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth. "A biscuit would be perfection, my love, pure perfection. You're too kind to me, Miss. Garibaldi, if it's not too much bother." He smiled broadly as she slid a plate beside him, and Cassie watched as he happily chewed, sprinkling crumbs down the front of his colorful sweater.
"So tell me, miss," he said, spraying a mouthful of biscuit, "how does all this work? I've not seen the doctor in a while, but I'm sure they can't grow fingers back yet. Sounds fascinating."
Cassie sighed. She'd explained a dozen times over, but right now she didn't mind talking as long as it meant she didn't have to think about how she'd get out of this mess. The bloodstains on the floorboards were a particular problem.
"Well, it's all a little complicated, Rutherford, but I'll try to keep it simple. You see, humans and werewolves are made up of different... let's say building blocks. There are things you call stem cells. They're like normal cells, but they can turn into anything. Lungs, hearts, teeth, hair, anything at all. When humans are born these cells become fixed, and they can't change any more, but with us they never fix. We're made up of stem cells all our lives, so when we suffer an injury we can heal much, much faster than humans. It also means we can shift into another form, but... well, we don't really know how that works. We just... think it, and it happens. We think it's something to do with our genes."
