Rating: NC-17

When he awoke, naked – save for the thin copper bracelet that appeared to be welded to his skin – and shivering in the open, empty countryside, unsure if the blood on him was his or from the remains of the deer lying beside him, its neck and innards torn out – his own body stiff and aching, his asshole sore and burning, urine around and on him, cum on his belly, flashes of memory scaring him worse than anything he'd ever experienced before; images of sweat and tears, of others like him, demanding he submit to them or die, mounting him, branding him with their scent, their cum, forcing him to accept what he was, what they were, driving him to an excruciating, shameful climax, he wished he had died.

"Here, put these on." A bundle of clothes appeared in his field of vision. For a second, he just stared at them, unable to comprehend what they were and what to do with them. Then, slowly, painfully, he reached towards the pile and began to get dressed. He didn't look at the man who'd bought them, partly out of shame but mainly out of shock.

"Okay. You look presentable enough. Let's get you home."

That brought his head up. "I don't have my keys." His voice was raw, the words barely coherent.

"That's all right. I picked them up when I collected the clothes."

Blair didn't question the remark. He wanted to get home, wanted to wash all traces away.

He walked into his apartment and just stared. "I'll wake up in a minute and find it's all been a fucking nightmare."

"No... Blair, you won't."

He'd forgotten – for a second – that he wasn't alone. Blair went and sat, heavily, on his couch, flinching as his ass came into contact with the seat. "Talk to me. Tell me how what happened could possibly have happened," he pleaded.

His ex-lover, Peter Mason, knelt before him, his hands on Blair's knees. "I bit you, remember?"

Blair did. His hand went to his neck where there was scar tissue forming. Pete had done it in the heat of sex. It had brought Blair out of his lust and he'd roughly pushed Pete off. But his lover pushed back and Blair had lost his balance. Pete took advantage and began lapping at the wound he'd caused. After that it got a bit hazy.

Afterwards Blair'd cleaned the wound and Pete had taken him down to a clinic for a couple of stitches and an anti-viral shot, one Blair insisted on having. The next day they'd argued over the bite and Blair had thrown his lover out. He meant to throw the copper bracelet Pete had given him – "a gift for being so hot," Pete had said, to match the one he wore himself – after him, but the thing seemed to have locked itself onto his wrist and Blair didn't want to call Pete back to ask for help. He'd tried various ways of removing it since then but, short of taking a saw to the metal, it wouldn't budge. It seemed like he'd have to take drastic action to be rid of it, like he should have with Pete.

"You're not serious! You bite me and I turn..." He threw his hands up in the air. "Werewolves don't exist, man! It's all myths and legends built around eating fungus that grew on rye grains causing hallucinations and convulsions, sort of like a bad LSD trip, or the condition known as hypertrichosis, perhaps even congenital erythropietic porphyria..." His voice trailed off at the look on Pete's face. "You're one too!"

Pete smiled wryly. "Yes. You know I am."

And Blair did. He had a flashback of one of those... animals mounting him, one whose smell was familiar to him, even though it was overwritten with the raw smell of the creature.

"You...." Blair couldn't say any more. He ran for the bathroom and threw up.

A hand appeared, a glass of water clutched in it. Blair washed out his mouth and then pushed past his ex and returned to the couch.

"I want to hear it, all of it."

Pete sat on the edge of the coffee table and wiped his hand over his head. "Okay. I don't know when it began or how many generations of the pack there's been. Until I turned you, I was the one who was mounted each time."

Blair shivered at the 'each time'. He didn't think he could go through that again. "Go on."

"There are five of us in the pack. Most have connections with business; one is quite powerful in Cascade society. We're all... useful to each other. Once a month we have to meet and hunt. The rest of the time, it's like a private club. We help each other out. Do favors for one another. These men can help you with your career, Blair. Of course, you can't go out of the country for longer than a month, so no expeditions, but they have the resources to further your standing at Rainier."

"And what do they want from me in return, apart from using me as a sex toy?"

Pete had the grace to blush. "One of us has a son at Rainier. His grades are slipping. He could do with some extra tutoring, maybe pull some strings. And, let's face it, you did get off on all the sex!"

"You bastard!" Blair flew at his ex, punching him, throwing all his weight at the man. "You do this thing to me, rape me, and then tell me I like it?"

Finally realizing Pete wasn't fighting back, and that he was in no condition to fight, Blair got, shakily, to his feet. "Get out, Mason. I never want to see you again."

Mason stood. "I'll see you in a month, Blair. Believe me when I tell you you'll be begging for our alpha to take you. You'll be on your stomach, rolling over, pleading with him, until he does and then we'll see how much you enjoy being made to cum by the pack."

"In your dreams, man!" Blair slammed the door behind his ex and leaned up against it. "And my nightmares," he whispered.

That next month, Blair did what he did best; he researched lycanthropes and ran tests upon himself. He discovered he had developed a serious allergy to silver. Even the smallest amount on his skin was incredibly painful. He had one of his girl friends run a 'blind test' on his skin with the same results. He also found out that he healed very quickly. Anything from a tiny paper cut to a scalpel wound healed fast.

"At least if I do turn again, I know a silver bullet will finish me," he mused, grimly.

He found that some of the legends concerning the herb 'Wolf-bane' were true; he couldn't abide the stuff.

He also tried to get the bracelet removed, but it seemed to get tighter the more pressure was applied to it. When a cutting saw was used on it the blade seemed to just bounce off the metal, which led to more tests and yet more questions. Somehow, he knew that the bracelet was tied to the werewolf 'thing'.

He tried to get the whole idea out of his mind, but the nearer it got to the full moon, the more nightmares plagued him. He had flashbacks more and more often. Seeing himself as Pete had described him; pleading, begging, to be used and mounted. He could feel again the pain and humiliation of the act and woke up sweating and screaming.

Then three days before the full moon, he saw Mason watching him across the road as he left the university. A note was pushed under his door with the words, 'I can't wait to plow your sweet ass again. Be ready. I'll come for you just after sunset.'

In desperation, Blair came up with a make-shift plan. He told the janitor at Rainier that he needed a basement room overnight for an experiment and bribed the man to turn off the feed to the security CTV from the basement with cookies for his granddaughter. Bob, the janitor, knew Blair and trusted him; he accepted the cookie bribe with a bemused shake of his head.

Blair set up a camera high up in the room and just as the full moon was beginning to rise, locked himself inside the room with only a clock and a book for company, and feeling a bit stupid, stripped and put an old bath robe on, then waited. At first he was sure nothing was going to happen, then the print on the page began to blur. He dropped the book... and then the pain began again....

He woke up as he had the previous month, naked and on the same patch of ground, covered in bodily fluids, and again Pete was there with some clothes. This time his ex just let him back into his apartment and left. A couple of hours later, a video tape arrived by carrier with an unsigned note; 'Because of your stubbornness, you killed a man last night. You will assist us, or a copy will be sent to the authorities.'

Blair poured himself a stiff drink, and, with shaking hands put the tape into the machine. It showed him sitting reading, and then the change began. Blair watched in abject fascination, twinged with horror, as his body altered and he tried to scream in agony.

Then the door opened and Bob stepped in, his broom held high as a weapon. Blair's alto ego saw the janitor and advanced towards him. Bob backed away in terror... then the picture broke up and all Blair could hear was an animalistic howl and then screams that froze his blood.

He sat back, his mind reeling, his body chilled, still hearing those screams. He had to know if the tape was showing him the truth.

How he got to Rainier, he'd never remember, but he found that the police were swarming over the place.

"What's going on?" he asked one of the bystanders.

"They found the mutilated body of the janitor just outside the basement door. It sounds like some wild animal got lose there."

Some of the crowd moved away and Blair caught a glimpse of what looked like a shop mannequin dressed in dirty overalls, discarded and thrown, half hidden by crushed and flattened bushes. Its head was hanging at an odd angle; a dirty red tear tarnished the ivory skin around the neck area. There was another thick stain of red and other matter on the slabs beside the scrubs.

Someone came up with a body bag and two men carefully lifted the remains into it, covering it from Blair's view.

He'd seen animals with their throats ripped out on wildlife programs. But this wasn't an animal, this wasn't a mannequin, this was a man, one Blair knew well.

As the full impact of what he was seeing hit him, Blair went hot then cold, and nearly passed out. One of the cops, a tall man in plain clothes, came over. "Sir, are you all right?"

He steadied Blair with a hand under Blair's elbow.

"Yeah, yeah. Just the shock, you know? I liked Bob. He had grandchildren...." Blair's voice trailed away as he lifted his head to look into a pair of concerned blue eyes. Blair swallowed around the catch in his throat as the eyes seemed to see deep inside him.

"You work here, Mister..."

"Sandburg, Blair Sandburg. Yeah, I'm a TA, an ABD in anthropology."

"ABD?"

"All But Dissertation," Blair explained, forcing himself to smile and earning a grin in return.

"And you knew Mister..." He looked at his note book. "Mister Robert Black?"

"Bob. Yes, yes, he was a nice man. Nothing was too much trouble for him." Blair choked on his words.

"Did you see him last night, Mister Sandburg?"

"Briefly. I had stuff to do. He was alive the last time I saw him." The last time my human side saw him, Blair added in his mind.

"Well, if you think of anything, anyone who could help us, my name is Jim Ellison, I'm a detective with the Cascade police, please call me." He handed Blair his card, smiled once more and then walked away.

Blair stood staring at the man's back. He gave himself a mental shake. Can't fall for a good looking guy now, especially if said guy is a cop! What the fuck am I going to do?

He turned to walk away. If I take too much interest in the... murder, it'd look suspicious, but then if I try and act normal... I can't avoid the university, that'd look as bad and it would mean I was reneging on my duties, not to mention my obligation to the students.

He noticed a small group of women standing with police officers further back. The women were trying to comfort one another.

Oh, God, that must be Bob's family. I remember seeing their pictures in his little office. I can't talk to them right now. I can't...

"Hi, Blair. I had a feeling you'd be here."

"Pete!" Blair grabbed hold of his ex's jacket. "What the fuck happened?"

"Not here!" Pete responded fiercely.

Blair looked around. People were staring. He dropped his hands and Pete pulled him over to Pete's car.

"Get in."

Blair was angry enough to refuse, but he bit down on it long enough to open the car door and sit in the passenger seat.

"What happened was that you tried to go it alone and a man died," Pete said sitting beside Blair.

"I wouldn't kill anyone! I didn't kill anyone!"

"You didn't believe the evidence on the tape? Well then I guess I should go and talk to that cop you were panting after." Pete opened the door to climb out.

Blair grabbed his arm. "Just explain it to me. I don't understand. How did I get from the basement to... this morning?"

Pete turned in the car seat towards Blair. "I went to your apartment to collect you. When I discovered you weren't there, I guessed where you'd be. I got there just before the moon rose, but too late to get you before we both changed and too late for that poor sap. Luckily our alpha howled for us both to join him and that he keeps some spare clothes in his car. Once I got you home this morning, I went back and got into the Uni basement, collected your stuff and the tape, and did a quick clean up. The rest you know."

Blair wiped his hand over his eyes. "Suppose I buy all this..."

"Buy all this! Blair, you saw the tape!"

"Yes I saw the fucking tape! I just don't understand it. How can a piece of copper give us control over the werewolf's actions? From what I've read they act on pure instinct; attack, eat, hide... I still don't get how a group of... animals can be more in control than one on its own?"

Pete shut the door. "Collectively, it's as though we have control over our actions. We can plan things; the hunt is more... profitable. On our own, we give in to a primal force that just takes; it's suicide that way. As a pack we are more successful. We share what we find. And innocents don't get killed."

Blair chose to ignore Pete's comment. "And these bracelets, how are they connected?"

"We all wear one. You won't get it off until you die. It's sort of like our mark of membership."

"Where are they from? What's the deal with them?"

"There are five of them, one for each of us. The pack leader wears the most ornate one. I don't know the origin of them or how long the pack has been in existence so don't ask me that. A new recruit is brought in when one of the pack is killed. But otherwise, we can live forever, Blair!"

Pete paused. "Just get used to the idea that you belong to the pack and life will get so much easier for you."

Blair felt that Mason wasn't telling him everything. "So what do I do now?"

"You do your job as normal and wait for instructions. Oh and next month, you'll be told where we are meeting. Bring a bag for your clothes and keys."

"Act normal? Jesus! How can I act normal? A man's dead. There are cops swarming over the campus. I don't know what the hell normal is any more!"

"Blair, hon, relax," Pete said smoothly. "It'll all be taken care of. If the cops give you any grief, just tell them you know nothing about any wild animal being kept on university grounds. What is it you always tell folk? Obfuscation is good for the soul, so obfuscate, Blair, obfuscate."

"You know, I never liked it when you called me hon, or honey. I didn't like it then and I hate it now."

Pete shrugged. "Please yourself. I guess you can make your own way back home? That is your car over there? I have a meeting to attend on our alpha's yacht."

"He has a yacht? Do I get to know his name?"

Pete grinned. "You already know it; he's on the board of Rainier, Phillip Blackstone."

Blair stared at his ex. "The Phillip Blackstone? My God!"

He realized Pete was waiting for him to get out of the car. "Yes, yes that's my car, although I don't remember driving it here." He frowned. "I guess... if I'm going to act normal, I ought to go into my office and do some work." It may help me think straight, or at least forget things for a time.

Jim watched as the young man almost stumbled out of his friend's car, and then stood watching as it sped away. What was wrong with this picture? Jim thought as the young TA slowly made his way over to a grey Corvair and retrieved some papers from inside. Okay, so most people get nervous around cops, but this Sandburg seemed almost scared to death, and this other guy, Pete? the way he seemed to take control, almost dragging Sandburg along? What was that all about?

Jim shook his head. Whatever it was, Blair Sandburg certainly needed watching and that had nothing to do with the fact that there was something about the attractive young TA...

In the meantime, he had work to do....

"So forensics say that the victim managed to make it out of the emergency exit, but then the animal caught up with him." Jim paused in his report to his boss. "The odd thing is, Captain, if someone was keeping an animal down there, there's no sign of it. There's no food containers, no bedding, no sign of a cage, no sign of animal waste, but there was evidence that someone was filming down there."

"You found a camera?"

"No, and that's the other weird thing. A camera tripod contraption was down there, knocked over, but the camera is missing."

"Hmmm, so you think there's more to this than someone keeping a large, wild animal illegally for study?"

"My gut tells me that."

"And do you have anyone in mind for this? Any suspects?"

Jim chuckled ruefully. "Simon, I walked in there and all the students have other things to do. If I were to shake half of them down, I'd find enough mild narcotics to give their parents nightmares for a year! I may even suggest to the campus police that they give a few a shake-down, but that isn't my case right now. Some of them reckoned they heard a pack of wolves howling around the campus, but without proof of that, it could be some idiots who were high or drunk or just thought it would be fun to scare the shit out of the younger students."

"So..."

"There is one person I'd like to follow up, Blair Sandburg. He's a TA studying Anthropology." Jim looked at his notebook. "He was a bit of a 'wunderkind', grade A student with promise. His students seem to love him; most of the auxiliary staff think he's got a good heart and an asset to the university, some of his own professors like him, but..."

"But..."

"But there's something about him, Simon. I know he's caught up in something to do with this... business, but I don't know how or why."

"No records of him studying something wild like this?"

"No, the largest creature he's studied, apart from humans, is a Barbary Ape named Larry. By all accounts he got on well with the victim. He seemed genuinely shocked by the janitor's death, but he knows something."

"What are you basing this on?"

"My gut again, I guess."

"Jim... just make sure it is your gut and not something lower down."

Jim's face became frozen. "Simon, I know you and my ex wife are friends, and I'm sure she's given you her version of our marriage, but what I do outside work is none of your damn business!"

"Yeah, well, we both care about you!" Simon shuffled some papers on his desk, looking slightly embarrassed. "Stick to the kid, see what you dig up." He looked up to glare at Jim. "But don't get involved!"

"Yes, Captain."

"I mean it, Jim."

"I know."

"Mister Sandburg! Mister Sandburg!"

Blair turned at the sound of his name being called and froze as he saw Detective Ellison jogging up to him. He tried to control his panic.

"Detective. What can I do for you?"

Jim pulled up along side, a smile on his face, but then he frowned. Blair waited, puzzled.

Jim had been all ready to chat Sandburg up, purely in the interests of the case, but suddenly he could hear a sound, a rhythm, similar to a fast heart beat. He shook his head to clear it and tried to focus on the young man in front of him. He noticed a fine sheen of sweat on Sandburg's face...

"Detective? Detective Ellison?"

Sandburg's hand was on his arm, the warmth perceivable even through his sweater.

"Sorry," he said, blinking. "Long night with little sleep. You were saying?"

"I asked if something was wrong?"

"With the case, no, no. I just feel a little out of my depth with modern college politics and wondered if you could help me there? I need someone who knows all the latest gossip."

"Gossip?"

"Yes, you know the kind of thing, who is really in charge of okaying experiments that could include large animals, who makes the best coffee, that kind of thing." Jim smiled his best 'I'm interested and harmless' smile.

Blair relaxed a fraction. "Well I'm not sure I can fill you in on gossip, but coffee, yes, I can tell you that."

"Great. You have somewhere we can talk, over that coffee, maybe?"

Blair laughed. "Sure, I have time right now if you're free? The Starbucks on campus is usually packed with students, but there's a little place just off the Uni grounds which serves the best coffee and snacks..."

Jim only realized he was grinning like an idiot when people at the police station smiled back at him. He got into the lift and tried to compose his expression. The plain truth was that he had enjoyed his lunch with Sandburg. The guy was very entertaining. Sure he talked too much, but his tales of university life had Jim laughing out loud and he was sure if ever he bumped into any of the people Blair talked about, Jim would immediately recognize them from the kid's colorful description.

His alarm startled Blair as it suddenly went off. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was 2am. He was exhausted. He had thoroughly enjoyed his lunch with that detective, to the point where he'd almost forgotten that the man was investigating Bob's death. But once alone in his small apartment, everything came rushing back.

Blair'd tried to take his mind off the situation by working until late, marking work, even cleaning; anything to stop him staring at the far ceiling, worrying over the events of the past month instead of sleeping. Even when he did fall asleep it was a restless sleep, full of dreams. Last night's had been a doozy.

He'd found himself watching a family of Native Americans in the old West. There was a mother, a young girl and a small boy. The mother was showing her daughter some weaving while the boy pretended to hunt a wild animal with his child-sized axe.

A group of white soldiers rode up.

The mother pulled her children to her. Blair couldn't hear what was said, but the mother brought the soldiers some water after the men dismounted. One of the men asked to see the boy's axe, but the child didn't want the soldier to have it. Nevertheless, the soldier took it from him, laughing and seeming to enjoy taking a rise out of the child – who responded by heading the soldier in the groin.

After that it all went to hell in a hand basket. The soldier grabbed the boy who wriggled and tried to fight him, biting his arm. The boy's sister tried to help her brother and was slapped across the face. Their mother protested and was pushed to the ground.

She was held down by two of the men as a third began to unbuttoned his trousers...

Blair tossed and turned in his sleep as the dream changed. A lone brave rode up to a scene of devastation. His family lay dead, his wife and daughter, left half naked and defiled, his tent had been set on fire and his meager possessions destroyed.

For the first time, Blair heard sounds and it was the sounds of heartrending screams....

He had awoken in a cold sweat, sure that the dream had some connection with this curse. And he was also sure that he didn't want to have that dream again. But he could hardly keep his eyes open. Very reluctantly and with some trepidation, he decided to try and rest – and fell into REM sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Blair saw the Indian brave in front of a fire at night. He threw something in to the flames and sparks flew up into the night. A shape appeared – his wife stood in the light of the fire, speaking to him, demanding revenge for the actions of her murderers, for the lives of her children. Blair realized this brave was in fact a Medicine Man.

He watched as this man sought out his wife's killers, finding them in a saloon, bragging about how they raped both mother and daughter, they even had trophies taken from the family, scalps and trinkets.

That night the Medicine Man sat at his fire outside of town, and wove strands of his family's hair into bracelets. Casting a spell he threw them into the fire and there they shone in the air above the flames, before they appeared to leap from the fire as five glowing circles of copper.

Before the break of dawn the Medicine Man found where the five soldiers were sleeping and silently placed a bracelet on each man's arm. Then he left and went out into the middle of the town. He laid down his arms and his tools of his trade, took up his knife, knelt on a mat and silently committed suicide by slicing his stomach open.

Blair sat up sweating and shaking, his heart beating so fast he was sure it would beat its way out of his chest.

How Blair got through that day at his job at the university, he never knew. Certainly he didn't give his lectures the attention they deserved, especially when he saw Pete at the back of the auditorium.

As the last of his students filed out, Pete came down the stairs towards Blair.

"What do you want?" Blair began shuffling papers and putting them in his back-pack.

"Phillip wants to see you."

"Why?"

Pete shrugged. "I don't ask, and if you are wise, you won't either."

"I'll take that under advisement."

Blair had never met Blackstone, though he'd heard all about the reclusive millionaire, so he wasn't sure what to expect as he was shown into the plush apartment. On one wall were hung several sepia pictures of people in nineteenth century costume, looking solemn, and a collection of antique guns. The front wall was made of floor to ceiling tinted glass, overlooking the Cascade water front and in front of that stood a large mahogany desk.

Blackstone was facing away from him, at the desk, pouring out a whiskey shot from a decanter. The millionaire was dressed in a dark suit, tailored perfectly to fit his slim frame.

"Would you like a drink, Mister Sandburg, or should I call Blair as I know you so intimately?" He turned as he spoke. He was younger than Blair had imagined, barely middle aged; grey only just showing through his blond hair. His eyes were also grey, but his features were eerily familiar to Blair.

"You!" blurted out Blair. "You were one of the soldiers!"

Blackstone was visibly taken aback by Blair's words, but he quickly recovered. "I don't know what you are talking about, Blair."

"I... I had a dream, a vision, maybe," Blair stumbled over his words, "about a group of soldiers who attacked and killed a family of Native Americans. The husband took revenge. You were one of the soldiers."

"Sounds like a really bad dream, Blair." Blackstone chuckled.

"It was, but it was real, it really happened, didn't it? How is that possible?"

Blackstone swilled his drink around in its glass looking down into its depths. "Very well, yes, it happened. There were five of us, all young, all joined up as an alternative to going to jail. The judge believed that time in the military would make men of us. But training at the fort was dull and boring and we wanted adventure so we caused trouble. Our first lieutenant decided to take us out on patrol, give us a taste of action. Maybe it was fate, if you believe in such things, but we came upon the Redskins. The lieutenant believed that if he bound us together in this one act, then we'd be a united team, sort of team building exercise as they call it now.

Of course, none of us expected any form of retribution, certainly not being turned into werewolves!" He laughed ruefully. "How did it happen, you ask? I guess if you saw it in your dream, your vision, as you say, then you know as much, or maybe more than I do, and I lived through it."

He paused. "Tell me, did you see the spell the Indian cast?"

"I saw the ritual, yes. I didn't hear what he said though."

"Is there any way you could recreate what you saw in this vision?"

"Not without years of studying with the right tribal Medicine Man."

"Pity." Blackstone took a swig of his drink. "Well, to continue, these," He held up his arm to show his own bracelet, "don't give you immortality; you age more slowly and you can still be killed if someone slices off your head or if you get too close to a fire or anything silver, but if you avoid such inconveniences.... Of course, you do have to change your identity every so often, but that's nothing. You become adept to such problems. The important thing of all is survival of the pack. The pack must survive, Blair."

Blackstone put his glass on his desk; then leaned forward, his hands flat on the top of the desk. "There is a carnal desire within us, maybe it's part of the curse, but if you try and deny it, just grows stronger. Together we are controlled. One lone wolf, well, he'd just go renegade, killing who knows how many in order to quench his bloodlust, his hunger, but the pack together has more control. And there's camaraderie from being part of the pack, Blair, we have the freedom to run wild, with people who know you, know what you are. There are large areas of the national park that few humans go to because it's either inaccessible or just plain remote. But we, we can hunt there, free as nature intended."

He caught the look of disbelief on Blair's face.

"Let me ask you something, have you ever looked up at the moon as a child and yearned for something but you couldn't say what? You just wanted to be part of the night, part of the mysteries of the dark? We are that sort of mystery. We are primal, untamed, alive, creatures of the full moon!"

"Primal, untamed? Some sort of supernatural, primeval being?" Blair barely held onto his temper. "That sounds like idealistic claptrap, Mister Blackstone! Is this why you wanted to see me? To give me some kind of 'pep talk'? To convince me that being turned into a werewolf is a noble, natural state? We are monsters, murderers, not some different form of Canis lupus! I was bitten by someone I trusted, on your orders! I killed someone because of that!" Blair shook his head sadly, his anger deflating. "I see nothing noble about that."

"That's where you are wrong, young man." Blackstone picked us his glass again and took a slip before continuing. "I'm sure you realize that the pack has been around for some time, there have been other deaths, some inescapable. We are predators, just as the human race has always been, but we are better than humans, stronger, our senses more acute. These bracelets give us the edge over ordinary humans. They give us teeth and claws but allow us to remain in control of those pure animal instincts. God, if I could I'd create a whole troop of werewolves!"

He paused again and his tone changed.

"I can see that you are a remarkable man, Blair. You are highly intelligent and, from what you tell me about your dream, you may even have some form of second sight. But you are very moral and that could be a problem if you allow it to get in the way. I suspect that you will either be an asset or a problem. I wanted to meet you to find out which you are likely to be."

"And what have you decided?" Blair chose to ignore the thin thread of fear that rang in his bones.

Blackstone gazed steadily at Blair. "The jury is still out. But take this as a warning. No one is irreplaceable."

As the door closed on Blair, another man stepped out of the shadows.

"What now, sir? We could kill him..."

Blackstone appeared to consider it. "No, too risky. For the moment Mister Sandburg is useful to me. And I'm not sure about his dream, what that means. But we can give him a warning to keep him in line. You said he lives in a warehouse? Wonder what form of fire protection he has?"

Next day Blair went shopping in the nearby supermarket when someone came around the corner too fast and ran straight into Blair's cart.

"Oh, I'm sorry... Mister Sandburg! Fancy bumping into you." Ellison smiled warmly at Blair.

Blair looked down at their two shopping carts with their wheels locked together. "Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't have expected to see you in here, Detective. It's a bit out of your neighborhood, isn't it? Didn't you say that you lived on Prospect?"

Jim shrugged. "I saw in the window they had three for two on their pies. And please, call me Jim."

Blair took a closer look at Jim's shopping. "I'd have thought a man like you would have gone for healthy foods."

"A man like me?"

Blair waved his hand vaguely at Jim. "With your physique, I mean. You must eat the right foods to avoid putting on weight."

Jim chuckled. "I tend to go to the police gym a lot, it helps when chasing crooks. But I have a cop's love of pies and unhealthy food." He looked into the vegetables and spices in Blair's cart. "You look like you enjoy cooking. No meat though?"

"That's my next aisle. But I enjoy cooking and my dates are all still alive so I must be doing something right."

Jim's smile faded a little. "So you are planning on cooking for someone? Then I'd better not keep you."

"No, no, it's fine. No date tonight, just me and the game."

"That's my plan too. Chill out in front of the box with a couple of beers and watch the Jags annihilation the Rapids."

Blair cleared his throat. "Well, er, better get on then."

"Yeah. See you, Chief." Jim started to pull his cart away and go up the aisle.

Blair watched him for a minute then whispered, "Damn!"

"Jim!" he called out, "Wait up. Look, do you, erm, do you want to come to my place and watch it with me? I mean I can rustle up a mean chili..."

"I'd love to, Chief, but I don't do spicy foods. I have what I guess you'd call an over sensitive palate."

"I guess being a cop leaves you prone to ulcers... I can do something less spicy and much better than the frozen pies you have there. No strings or anything," he added.

Jim looked pleased. "Okay, yeah, I'd like that. So what meat are you looking for?"

They loaded the shopping into Jim's truck and Blair settled into the passenger seat and did up his seatbelt. "It's just around the block. I walked it from my place."

Jim's hand went to turn the key in the ignition but then he paused. "Do you have a dog, Chief?"

The non sequitur caught Blair off guard. "A dog? No. Why do you ask?"

"I can smell, well, like a doggy smell on you.... Sorry, that sounds really bad as though I was sniffing you and that you smell funny." Jim started the truck motor.

Blair couldn't help it, he laughed. "Must be from my ex," he obfuscated. "He has a big wolf-hound type of creature."

"You still see him, then, your ex?" Jim spared a glance at his companion as he drove along.

"You could say we move in the same circles," Blair replied, a little ruefully.

"But he's still your ex?"

"Oh yes! There's no love lost there these days."

"You sound bitter."

"Let's just say he isn't the man I thought he was."

"And he's put you off dating guys."

"Something like that. Look, can we change the subject?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. He's just a sore point, that's all. We okay?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. I wasn't sure if you were..."

"What? Homophobic? Let me tell you something Chief, half the precinct thinks I'm gay, the other half are sure I am!"

"And are you?"

Jim leaned over. "I can go either way," he whispered seductively into Blair's ear.

Blair felt a shiver go down his spine and his cock gave a twitch that had him squirming in his seat.

Jim straightened up. "My boss is the only one who knows for sure."

Blair's eyes opened wide in surprise. "How did he find out? You didn't date him?"

"God, no! No, my ex wife decided to talk to him, to express her concern. Plain truth was she didn't trust me. If she had... well we might still have had a friendship at least."

"But you never cheated on her?"

"You do like to dig deep don't you? No, I don't cheat on those I'm with." Jim drove the car around the corner to see a number of emergency vehicles parked in front of a warehouse. There was smoke coming from it and the firefighters were busy damping down.

"What the hell...."

Blair was out of the truck before Jim had parked.

"My stuff, my apartment..." Blair stood looking up at the warehouse.

"This is your place?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Was, yeah."

Jim saw one of the firefighters he knew. "Hey, Dan, what's going on?"

"Oh, hi, Jim. Can't tell you much, it looks as though the building next door was set up as a meth factory. A chemical precursor blew out the wall. Luckily no one was in next door, but someone's been living there."

"Yeah," said Jim, "that guy I gave a lift to." He nodded his head to where Blair was standing, looking bewildered. "Any chance of him picking up his possessions?"

Dan looked curiously over to Blair. "The guys saved some. They're in the boxes over there." He pointed to a few cardboard boxes stacked out of the way. "There's not much, but then there didn't seem to be much in there. Did he know there was a drug lab next door?"

"Doubt it."

Jim turned towards Blair. "You never once suspected that there was a drug factory next door, Chief?"

Blair shook his head. "No, there were some strange noises a night or two ago, but I thought it was just the plumbing. I guess I'm going to have to find some place else, a room at a hostel or something."

"I know I'm going to regret this, but I have a spare room, if you want it."

Blair looked up at the detective in surprise. He shook his head. "No. Thanks, man, for the offer, but I can't impose on you. I'll find somewhere."

He noticed the brief flash of something like disappointment which crossed Jim's face.

"You are really a big softy, aren't you," he said with a smile.

Jim felt he should be offended, but somehow being around this character, he just couldn't find it in him.

"Don't spoil my rep, Sandburg!" he said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm as hard as nails."

"Sure you are, Jim," Blair said, patting the man's stomach. "Sure you are."

"Well just as long as we are clear on that!" Jim cleared his throat. "The offer's there any time you want to take it up."

"Thanks. I really do appreciate it." But right now, I can't be that close to you. You would ask too many questions, questions I don't have answers to.

"There is one thing you could do for me, if it's not too much trouble?"

Jim's eye's narrowed. "Okay, what?"

"The boxes the firemen rescued, could you store them for me? Just for a while, a week, maybe? Until I have somewhere to crash where I can take them?"

Blair looked pleadingly at Jim, who sighed, dramatically, even though he'd just offered to put Blair up.

"All right, yes."

Blair bounced on the spot causing Jim to put his hands up. "Just one week, okay, Chief?"

Blair nodded enthusiastically.

"I have a storage area in the basement of the place I live. I can put them there for a while. Any longer and I may have to fumigate the place to get rid of the smell of smoke."

"A week should give me plenty of time, Jim. Thanks, man."

Blair's friends rallied around once they heard of his lack of accommodation. One gave him the keys of his house so Blair could house-sit while he was away on a five month long sabbatical. Others gave him replacement items. He visited his favorite thrift shops and found some shirts and a jacket to last him over until his next pay check came through.

Back at the university, Blair was summoned into Chancellor Edwards' office. She was sitting behind her large pine desk; sitting in a comfortable chair at an angle to the desk was a stocky, well dressed man looking as if he owned the place.

"Ah, Mister Sandburg. This is Mister Bingham, Mister Phillip Blackstone's lawyer. He has a pleasant surprise for you. Mister Blackstone, who as you are no doubt aware, Mister Sandburg," she turned her head and smiled at the lawyer, "contributes a large amount of his fortune to this school, has heard about your recent situation in regards to you losing your home, and has graciously offered to loan you the use of one of his apartments."

She paused, obviously waiting for Blair to be overawed at such an offer. As it was Blair cringed inside at the idea of Blackstone invading even more of his life.

"It's a very generous offer, and naturally I'm both surprised and grateful, Chancellor," Blair began.

"Of course. I shall have the keys and address sent to your office..."

"But I must decline," Blair quickly interrupted. "I've made other arrangements which I can't let go. So, please thank Mister Blackstone on my behalf, Mister Bingham, but I must turn down his kind suggestion."

"Excuse me, Mister Bingham." Edwards got up from her desk and gently but firmly pulled Blair to one side. She smiled at the lawyer and then directed herself to Blair.

"Mister Sandburg, you do know just how important Phillip Blackstone is to this university?" she hissed at him. "We don't want to insult him by turning down his offer, now do we!"

Blair gently removed her hand from his arm. "I don't mean to insult anyone, but I have made other plans!"

"Then change them!"

"No, I can't!"

Just as the chancellor began to insist, Bingham got up from his chair.

"I'm sure Mister Blackstone will understand that Mister Sandburg has other commitments. But if you change your mind, sir, then please let me know through Ms. Edwards. Goodbye, Chancellor, Mister Sandburg."

Blair saw his opportunity to escape too.

"I should go too, Chancellor. I have a class to teach in a quarter of an hour."

He quickly left before she could voice any more displeasure at his decision.

Outside in the corridor, Bingham was waiting.

"Mister Sandburg, Mister Blackstone foresaw that you might turn down his offer. He asked I give you this letter in that eventuality."

He nodded at Blair in farewell and walked away.

Blair looked at the letter in his hand with trepidation.

Gingerly, as though it contained a bomb, he opened and read it.

My dear Blair,

I guessed you would turn me down. Pity. I suppose losing your home didn't press home how important it is for you not to endanger yourself.

The pack is all, Mister Sandburg, I strongly urge you to cooperate in future.
I look forward to seeing you again real soon.

P.B.

"The bastard!" Blair said to himself as he crumpled up the letter.

"Blair, are you all right?"

Blair jumped out of his skin. "Oh, hi Sidney. Yes, I'm fine, just had some bad news, that's all."

"Into all our lives, a little rain must fall," the professor said, tapping Blair's shoulder.

"Yes, and right now, wet is my world!"

The following day, having been given the all clear by the fire investigation team, Jim took Blair back to his old apartment to see if there was anything else worth salvaging – not that Blair had much hope.

The park opposite Blair's damaged warehouse was full of kids and their parents. Blair smiled, glad of some distraction, as some boys ran past shouting to each other. Over on a field some other lads were playing soccer when a fight broke out and the referee blew his whistle. The sound made Blair's ears ring and he shook his head.

"Man, that noise goes straight through you, doesn't it?" He turned to Jim to see the detective on his knees, covering his ears with his hands.

"Jim? Jim?" Blair at once bent to see what had happened, his hand going to Jim's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Jim was obviously in agony. He shook his head and then screwed up his eyes in pain. He put his weight on Blair's shoulder as he slowly climbed to his feet, opening his eyes a crack. Blair's face was full of concern.

"Sorry. Blinding headache. Came on all of a sudden."

"Do you get them often? Do you know what triggers them – apart from loud whistles?"

Jim rubbed his forehead. "Oh, it can be bright lights, or strong smells. It just seems to happen if I focus too much on something. I take medication for it."

"Come on. Let's get you somewhere peaceful." Blair took his arm and pulled Jim gently along.

"So..."

They were in a café away from the park. The décor was soothingly cream. The only strong smell was the rich coffee and hot pastries and there was an absence of any children or loud music. Jim found himself relaxing.

"...are all your senses enhanced?"

Jim nearly choked on the mouthful of coffee he'd just drunk.

Blair hit him between the shoulder blades.

"Sorry, Jim. Didn't mean for that to happen," he said, his grin belying his words.

Jim wiped his mouth, trying to catch his breath. "What are you talking about, Sandburg?"

Blair sat back. "Did I ever tell you what my dissertation is about?"

Jim shook his head.

"A long time ago, I discovered this book, Sentinels of Paraguay. Fascinating book – well the writing style is a bit... colorful in places, but the subject matter... basically, this Victorian explorer, Richard Burton, and no, not the actor, traveled into the jungles of Paraguay and discovered that some of the native tribes had what he termed Sentinels, people with a genetic advantage, a sensory awareness that could be developed beyond that of normal humans. They could tell when bad weather was coming, where the best game was, and so much more. I was sure that such people would still exist in our modern society, but, so far I've only found people with one or two senses that are better than average."

"And what makes you think I have enhanced senses?"

"Well, the headaches for one, also you could smell 'dog' on me when I couldn't. That whistle was loud and shrill, I grant you, but you found it really painful. Those clothes you wear, though good quality, are well washed and..." Blair took a fold of Jim's sweater and rubbed his fingers over it, then dropped his hand as he realized what he was doing... "soft. So I'm guessing your sense of touch is sensitive too. You seem to notice things that I have to squint to see, even wearing my glasses. And you yourself told me you dislike spicy foods. I read about your time in Peru, lost from so-called civilization." He spread his hands wide. "Now put all these together and, to someone who has studied these things, they seem to point to one direction. Am I wrong?"

"All seems like circumstantial evidence to me, Chief." Jim threw his napkin down, got up and walked out of the café.

"Wait!" Blair hurried to get out from behind the table and ran after the detective. "I haven't told you about the zone-out factor!" He was surprised to find himself pulled off his feet and pushed against a store front by Jim.

"Look, I don't know what your game is..."

Blair patted Jim's shoulders. "Cool it, Joe Friday! People are staring!"

Jim looked around and dropped Blair carefully back down.

Blair grabbed Jim's shoulders to stop him from stepping away again. "Every sentinel had a companion because he or she could be vulnerable when they focused their senses on one thing; they could become lost in that sense. It was the companion's role to bring them back, to the here and now, to help them gain control of their senses."

Sure Jim wasn't about to bolt again, Blair released his hold. Jim turned away.

"I don't know that I want control. I just want them gone. They've caused me nothing but trouble."

Jim had his back to Blair but he was still listening, Blair pressed his advantage.

"I can't help you to get rid of them. And why would you want to? They give you an advantage over the average cop. You're a walking crime lab, man!"

Jim turned towards Blair.

"And if I let you help me, what do you get out of it?"

"The chance to study you, to finish my dissertation with data gathered from a modern sentinel."

"Say I agree. No using my name, or any way of tracing your subject back to me."

"Agreed," Blair said readily. "So... just to confirm, are they all enhanced?"

Jim sighed. "Yes."

"Wow! Okay, I have some ideas where we can start...." Blair reached inside his ever present back pack.

"No medication. I take enough tablets as it is! I don't want any crazy" Jim waved his hand in the air, "mumbo jumbo from you."

Blair frowned. "What tablets do you take, Jim?"

"You want a list?"

"Are there that many?"

Jim sighed again. "It feels like I should rattle when I walk."

"Okay. We can deal with that. I'll take a look at what you take and what they do or don't do, but then I want you to slowly stop taking them. If what I suggest doesn't work, we can review the situation again."

He could see the hope tinged with fear in Jim's eyes.

"Please, trust me on this?" he pleaded.

"Why do I get the feeling like I'm stepping off a cliff?" Jim said, shaking his head.

Blair flopped down on his bed. Man! What a day! he thought. He'd found a real, live Sentinel. A real live Sentinel who not only was willing to allow Blair to study him, but also was willing to accept Blair's help in him gaining control of his senses! And to crown it all, the man was, well not to put too fine a point on it, everything Blair wanted in a man.

He turned over onto his side.

The downside was that as much as Blair was drawn to Jim, and oh boy, was he ever drawn! The downside was that sooner or later Jim would start to question who or rather what, Blair was and he'd find out about the werewolf thing, but even worse, that Blair had killed someone. Blair scrubbed his face with his hands. What have I gotten myself into now! Why now? Why him?

Why now? Why him? Jim thought as he lay on his back on his bed. Of all the people in Cascade, maybe in the whole of the US or even the world, why did that one person who seems able to understand, able to help, have to be a suspect in a really odd death? And why do I feel so drawn to him? God, it sounds like a plot for some awful 'made for TV' movie! Hardnosed cop with personal issues falls for attractive suspect.

He groaned out loud and punched the pillow.

Simon is going to love this if I tell him I need the kid around to stop me going crazy! I can just hear him throw 'conflict of interest' at me. Guess the first thing to do is to find out just what he's involved in and how to get him out of whatever trouble he's in!

The next day Blair came to Jim's home and went through everything in his kitchen cupboards and the bathroom. He lined up everything that he thought could cause havoc with Jim's senses and then took Jim shopping for new stuff that wouldn't cause the sentinel problems. Unscented items were examined for ingredients that could still cause irritation; food was inspected for ingredients which had negative traits – in Blair's eyes. Once back, Blair cooked them a meal at Jim's loft.

"I promised you that I would cook for you, remember? Before we discovered my apartment had gone up in smoke? This is the least I can do for allowing me to store my stuff in your lock-up."

"So you are not going to ask me to name the ingredients?" Jim asked suspiciously.

Blair looked at him blankly. "It never crossed my mind. However," he paused, "if you want to tell me what I used, then go ahead."

Jim laughed and shook his head. "I walked into that, didn't I!"

The meal was good. Jim forgot all about worrying over something triggering an attack and as over their previous coffee, Blair's anecdotes had him chuckling and laughing. He ended up sharing a few of his own and the evening passed very quickly.

The two men washed the dinner crockery together, Blair washing, Jim wiping and putting away.

It's as if we've been doing this for years! Blair thought. It feels so easy and comfortable. I wish I thought it would all end well... He sighed.

"What's up, Chief?"

"I was just thinking that it's been a great day, but I really should go."

Realizing it could appear as though he was dropping a hint, that he could be persuaded to stay, he added quickly, "So to get back to business, when are you likely to be free so I can run some tests?"

Jim groaned. "Tests! Do I get to find out what they involve or veto any that I don't like?"

"Man, no!" Blair exclaimed. "If I tell you in advance it would invalidate the results! We have to establish some base lines for you. You want control, don't you?"

Jim wiped a hand over his head and conceded. "Let me talk to my boss. I have time owed me."

"Maybe I could come with you into work! Find out just what are your stress indicators...."

"Oh Simon would love that! Your name is down as a possible witness at the university, remember?"

A chill ran down Blair's spine. "I'm not a suspect am I? You said it was a large animal and I don't study anything large."

"Witness, Chief, not a suspect."

"But I don't remember seeing anything useful to your investigation."

"There could still be something in that noggin of yours." Jim lightly tapped Blair's forehead. "You may still hear something on campus which would move the investigation along."

"But if I'm not a suspect, then there's no real reason why I couldn't come in with you. We could tell your captain that I want to write a paper on the police in Cascade, the 'Thin Blue Line' angle."

"Don't try that one on Simon. He will hate it with passion."

"So you'll take it up with him?"

Jim sighed, knowing he was beaten. "Okay, I'll try."

"I just feel if we include him, he may open up. He certainly knows enough about what goes on on campus. He has this talent. People open up to him, Simon." Jim pleaded.

He'd promised Blair he would do his best to get Blair in at Major Crime, but he was having a hard time convincing his boss.

"Jim, you implied that he could have something to do with this. This isn't an episode of Columbo, you know! We don't invite suspects to get involved in the hope they will confess."

I know, Simon..."

Simon stared, and then sighed loudly. "Okay. So he wants to observe you for a paper. Just tell me it's not titled 'The Thin Blue Line' or something similar?"

"I've warned him not to use that."

"Okay, bring him in tomorrow and I'll talk to him. If he promises to keep out of the way, then he can observe, but only observe. The first time he steps out of line, he's out on his ear, case or no case. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay, now get out of here, you're cluttering up my office."

Jim waited until he was sitting at his desk before he sighed in relief and picked up the phone to tell his friend the good news.

The next few weeks, Blair almost regretted asking if he could join Jim at Major Crimes. The very first day, some lunatics calling themselves the Sunrise Patriots had taken over the Cascade Police Station and held him hostage. If Jim Ellison hadn't managed to hang on to the underside of the helicopter, heaven alone knew what Kincaid would have done with Blair. As it was, Jim had to explain to his boss about the sentinel stuff which didn't go down very well with the captain.

Then Blair's access to the department was revoked when he helped Jim tap into a villain's phone – luckily he got his credentials back soon after, but by far the worst incident was when Blair was again kidnapped by a madman who drugged his victims and then drowned them.

Yet through all that, Blair found he didn't want to get off the roller-coaster. Academia seemed so much like a children's merry-go-round. For all the bad stuff that happened, helping his friend with sensory problems, hanging out with him, just being with Jim, made Blair forget his own problems and he found himself missing Jim when each other's obligations kept them apart. Even so, Blair was sure it was all going to blow up in his face. He knew he had to find someone else, a companion who could be trusted, to help Jim, when things caught up with them. It was something he really didn't want to have to do, give up his role in Jim's life to someone else.

And then came the day before the night of the full moon.

"I really could do with your help tonight, Chief, if you are free."

"Tonight? Why especially tonight?" Blair felt his heart jump into his throat.

"It's the full moon. All the crazies come out."

Blair forced a chuckle out.

"I'd love to, Jim, but, I er, I have a group that meets every full moon. We study the effect of the lunar cycle on people and animals." He turned away to stuff some papers in his backpack in order to avoid looking at his friend.

"Then maybe you should bring them to the station. Get a real insight into what goes on," Jim offered.

Blair shook his head. "No can do. We collect data after the event. Sorry. In fact..." He made a point of looking at his watch. "I should head off to set things up."

He threw his pack over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jim."

Jim frowned as he watched as Blair almost run out of the bull pen.

Blair leaned against the wall of the elevator. You've really blown that, my friend! Jim is going to suspect something. I shall have to get my act together for tomorrow. First though I have to get through tonight!

Blair drove back to his friend's house automatically. He dumped his backpack down and grabbed another bag – all the while trying not to think. He considered eating something but decided it wouldn't stay in his stomach and he didn't really have an appetite for anything.

He looked around at the house, glanced once more at the note he'd found in his pigeon hole at the university giving instructions of where to go, before he went out the front door and climbed back into his car.

It was growing dusk as he reached the edge of the forest. The others were already there. Blackstone led them a short hike into the woods and to a hidden clearing.

The others began to strip unself-consciously, laughing and joking as they did. Blair walked a little way away and began to undress shyly, putting his clothes into the bag along with his keys. He could feel his heart race with fear and dread.

He found himself turning with the others to see the moon rise, knowing what would happen but unable to resist its call....

Following Blair had been easy for Jim. He locked his sense of hearing on his friend and left the station soon after Blair's car had exited the car park. The only problem he had was when a car alarm went off close to Jim's Ford. With his hearing dialed up, the noise of the alarm seemed to blast through his skull causing him to briefly lose control of his truck. Luckily he managed to swerve out of the way of an oncoming car in time.

Guessing where Blair was heading, Jim pulled up along the street from the house, just as Blair came out and climbed back into his Corvair.

Keeping well back, he followed Blair up and into the Cascade Reserve. Then he set off on foot, keeping well back and traveling as stealthily as he could.

He watched as Blair met up with a group of four men and was led off into the forest. For a moment Jim wondered if they were the research group Blair mentioned, but they didn't look like your regular students; each of them seemed to have good expensive hiking clothes, and, like Blair, carried an empty bag or rucksack.

He followed till the edge of a clearing and then watched in bewilderment as the men began to strip, Blair included. But there was something different about the way Blair undressed; it was as though he was reluctant to take part in this ritual. He turned slightly away from the others, keeping as much of his body out of view as possible.

Jim growled softly as he noticed one man leer at Blair's backside as he squatted to put his clothes in his bag.

Then something else odd happened; all of them, as if on cue, turned to see the moon rise through the trees. Jim followed their gaze, but his attention was quickly brought back by an animalist scream, followed by several more.

He watched in horror and disbelief as the men all began to change and alter their form, growing fur and claws, stretching and growing before his eyes.

He must have gasped or stepped back on a twig or something because suddenly they all turned his way. He could see their eyes glowing in the moonlight and saliva dripping from the edges of their jaws.

He began to run, but the pack was fast. He could hear them crashing through the undergrowth behind him and then he realized one or two were trying to flank him.

Suddenly Jim found himself flushed out into the open with the pack almost surrounding him. His back was to a stream but he knew he wouldn't be able to make it before they were on him.

Then one of the creatures separated itself from the pack and ran forward. Jim braced himself for what would surely come... but the creature turned its back to Jim and snarled at the others. With a jolt he realized that this creature was Blair. The werewolf looked quickly back at Jim and barked something that sounded like 'run'. Jim hesitated, but the creature snarled at Jim and he decided to obey.

He ran straight into the water, hearing terrible cries and inhuman noises behind him, but he kept going, praying that he was doing the right thing.

Back at the loft, he waited, unable to relax, not sure what to do.

It was early next morning when Blair returned, bleeding and torn, but alive.

Jim let him into the loft without a word, unsure of what to say or think. He knew there was one thing he needed to do. He put his hands gently on Blair's shoulders and began to run his hands over Blair's arms, and then he turned him around and did the same on his back.

Blair stood still while Jim checked him over quickly with his senses. Then Jim went and got his first aid kit with some cotton balls and antiseptic cream.

"It's all superficial, just a few bruises and bites," said Blair, quietly.

"They could have killed you. I should have stayed," Jim said, equally quietly. "Take off your shirt."

Blair raised his eyebrows. "Not sure I'm up for that right now, Jim," he said, going for humor to try and ease the tension.

"For this!" Jim blushed even as he held up the cotton ball and the tube of cream.

Blair smiled softly and did as he was told.

"If you had stayed," he said, "all that would have served is that they would have turned on you as well as attacking me. I couldn't have watched out for you, while trying to protect myself. And you couldn't have helped, unless you had any silver bullets in that gun. An ordinary bullet wouldn't have slowed them down. Plus they still need me. I'm still useful to the pack."

Jim gently wiped the bites over with the cream. "Useful how? In what way useful, Sandburg?"

"I don't know for sure. At first it was just because I could help with someone's son who needed to pass his grades, but now it's almost as if our pack leader is afraid of me or something."

"What's his name? Can you tell me that?"

"Blackstone. Phillip Blackstone."

Jim whistled through his teeth. He'd heard of the wealthy entrepreneur. "And the rest of it? I saw them, I saw you. Just what the hell are you?"

Blair looked down, studying his shoes. "You saw us; you know what we are... I am." He raised his head and looked Jim straight in the eye. "I'm a werewolf."

Jim took a deep breath. "Okay, I can't deny what I saw, but explain to me how this is possible?"

Blair sat heavily on the arm of an armchair. "I can't tell you much. I was bitten by my ex."

"That explains your 'no love lost' comment. You do pick 'em Chief."

"Yeah. Well, I've done better since."

Jim glanced up from his doctoring the injuries and shook his head, smiling. "Silver tongue talk will get you nowhere."

Blair smiled but then became serious again. "Blackstone is the leader of our pack. He's the one who decides where we meet and how we hunt. The bracelet on my arm helps me, is supposed to give me some measure of control, but it also binds me to the pack."

"You protected me against them," Jim pointed out.

"Yes, I had to; I couldn't allow them to savage you to death. But I don't know what they will do to me because of it. The alpha held the rest of them off... up to a point. He obviously has other plans for me."

"Like what?"

"I have no idea. But it won't be good."

"There's more, isn't there?"

Blair hesitated. "You don't want to know, Jim. Please, don't ask me about the 'more'."

"Okay, I'll leave it." For now, Jim thought.

Blair glanced at Jim. "What made you suspect something?" he asked. "What made you follow me?"

Jim shrugged. "That fact you all but bolted out of the bull pen was a bit of a giveaway that something was wrong."

Blair nodded and grinned ruefully. "Yeah, that was a big mistake on my part."

"But also the things you taught me to notice. Stuff like raised heart rate, slight increase of sweat. I've watched you long enough to have an idea of when you are trying to hide something, like when you don't want to tell me about a test because you know I won't want to do it."

Blair pulled his shirt back on. "I shall have to be more careful around you," he said, smiling.

"Just don't lie to me. That's all I ask. As for the tests..." Jim put the cream down. "It's like medicine, you may hate the taste, but you know it will do you good so you just take it."

Blair looked at Jim long and hard. "I promise I won't lie to you, Jim," he vowed. "But I can't promise to stop making you take the medicine."

Jim chuckled. "Fair enough."

"You know," Blair said, sadly, "once upon a time, I dreamed of having super powers, of being a Sentinel. But I guess even superheroes have problems, don't they."

"Are you talking about me? Because I'm no superhero and I hate to tell you this, Chief, but judging by the bites you've got, neither are you."

"No, even I'm not sure how to describe me, certainly not a hero."

"Well there are degrees of bravery and the fact you tried to defend me, rates pretty high to me."

Blair saw Pete at his office at the University the next day.

"What good do you think your little stunt pulled! Now we have to kill this cop, either that or turn him!" Pete said without preamble.

Blair swallowed at the idea of turning his friend into one of them, of Jim having to go through what he had.

"No!" he burst out. Then he calmed his voice. "Not yet. Let me at least try something first. We don't want the cops to investigate another cop's death, even by so-called wild animals. It'd draw too much attention. Already we are skating on thin ice."

"He could file a report, go public..." Pete was agitated, pacing back and forth.

"And say what? Tell who? That a pack of werewolves is roaming the area around Cascade? Who'd believe that? They'd lock him up and throw away the key. No, let me deal with him for now. Make sure he knows it's in his best interest to keep quiet."

"You think you can persuade him?"

"I can be pretty persuasive when I have to be."

"Okay. I don't like it, and I doubt if Phillip will either. He told me to tell you that you will be punished for putting the pack in danger. There will still be consequences."

For the next month, Blair waited, dreading what could happen with the next full moon. And fate didn't help, first by throwing them a rogue CIA agent who had discovered Jim's Sentinel abilities – and Blair's role of being his sentinel's back-up, and then by two women who threw both men for a loop. For Blair it was the child/woman daughter of a gun-runner who brought out all his protective feelings, and as for Jim it was a criminal who leaked sexual pheromone like there was no tomorrow. The situation put an even greater strain on his and Jim's burgeoning relationship.

The evening of the full moon, Blair drove out to the rendezvous spot with a heavy heart.

As before the others were already there.

"So did you shut your cop up?" Blackstone asked Blair.

Blair bit back the remark that Jim was not his. "Yes. He'll keep quiet."

"Guess he liked your ass too then." Blackstone turned to his men, laughing. "Okay. Chain him up," he ordered.

"What?"

Two men grabbed Blair and began to wrap chains around him and a near-by tree.

"What are you doing?" Blair struggled to no avail.

Pete looked on horrified. "You can't kill him! He... he has that cop in his pocket!"

"We are not going to kill him, Peter. We are going to do something far worse."

Blair shivered. What could be worse than what he'd already gone through? The pain of turning, the humiliation of being mounted and worse, of wanting it, and then the attack from the pack when he tried to protect Jim...

Then he felt the call of the moon and his body began to pull at him.

His human side fought to control the wolf as it tried to escape from the chains.

The alpha walked over to him, the wolf in Blair cowered, tried to show submission, but the alpha just swiped him across his snout. Wolf/Blair cringed and whimpered, tasting blood in his mouth. But then, to Blair/Wolf's surprise alpha/wolf turned and walked away. Blair was sure this was it, Blackstone was going to allow the others to rip him apart, but instead the alpha went up to the werewolf that Blair knew as Pete and punched him in the stomach.

Pete/wolf looked surprised, but then he did as Blair had and tried to make himself small, tried to roll over, but the alpha wasn't having it. He cuffed Pete across the snout, first left to right, then back, right to left. Pete held his claws up to his snout, trying to protect it, but the alpha wasn't having any of it. Pete's eyes widened in terror and he turned to run – with the pack hard on his heels.

Blair struggled more strongly against his chains, roaring out in anger, in frustration. He could hear the pack crash though the forest. Then Pete howled. The pack had caught him.

Blair knew the sounds that followed as the pack attacked their prey. He raised his head and cried out in anguish and sorrow.

Pete's cries and whimpers echoed around gradually getting weaker.

Just before dawn, the pack returned dragging Pete's body and Blair could see just how much pain they had inflicted on his ex-lover before killing him. Wolf/Blair had tears running down his face as the moon sank and the sun started to rise. The pack changed back into humans.

Blackstone gathered up his clothes and started getting dressed, the rest of the pack followed suit, all of them grimly ignoring Pete's naked, violated body.

One of them put his hand on a tree to support himself as he threw up against its roots.

Blackstone picked up Pete's bracelet and then walked over to Blair. He put a key in Blair's hand. "I said we wouldn't kill you. I didn't say we wouldn't kill someone you cared about. Unchain yourself and get dressed. I'll talk to you before the next moon."

Blair mechanically undid the lock and got his clothes on. Part of him wanted to go over to Pete, check that he really was dead – though from the state of his body there was no doubt – to do something to give Pete some dignity, but he knew that if he did, the police would find evidence that he, Blair, had been there and that would only raise more questions.

Head down and ashamed of the pack and that he couldn't have done anything to help Pete, Blair made his way back to his car and back to his lodgings.

Blair knew the police would come to take him in for questioning him later that day, given that he knew the victim. He was grateful it wasn't Jim doing the investigation, but he had an idea that his friend was behind the mirror wall, listening to everything Blair said or didn't say.

Blair hadn't requested an attorney, so he was surprised when Bingham walked in saying that he was Blair's lawyer and unless the police wanted to arrest his client, then he and Mister Sandburg were leaving.

Jim watched as Blair shook the man off when he tried to grab Blair's arm and take him to a car outside.

Simon came to stand at Jim's shoulder, watching the scene taking place. "I like the kid, and if you ever quote me on this, you are on desk duty for a month, but you were right; people open up to him. He's an asset to the team. But he's holding back on something and that makes me suspicious. Do you still think he's involved in setting this... animal to kill his lover?"

"Ex-lover," Jim said automatically. He shook his head. "No, he's innocent of that."

Simon nodded slowly. "Yes, I agree with you. So what is going on here? He doesn't seem the type to be able to afford Bingham there."

"I wish I knew, Simon. I wish I knew."

Back home, Jim went down to his storage area and to his friend's things. He just knew that there was something that was causing Blair a great deal of pain, aside from the whole werewolf thing – which was bad enough – but there was something else and Jim wanted to know what that was and if he could help. He began to search through the items they'd salvaged from Blair's warehouse.

When Jim phoned asking him over to the loft saying that they needed to talk, Blair assumed it was about Pete, so he drove to Jim's apartment with some trepidation. Jim let him in and told him to sit down. More and more worried, Blair did as he was told.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Jim dug beneath some newspapers on the table. "I found this, Chief." He revealed the untitled tape he'd found in amongst Blair's belongings.

Blair went pale. "You had no right to go into my things." He paused...swallowed. "You played it."

Jim nodded.

"So now you know it was me who killed the janitor," Blair said, flatly.

"Were you alone in that basement, Blair?"

The non sequitur irritated Blair. "Of course I was! Who the fuck else would be there?"

"I don't know, but apart from yours and the janitor's heartbeat, I can hear someone else's."

"What?... But that's not possible. I made sure I was alone in the basement."

"Well, you helped me hone my senses, Chief, and that's what I'm picking up."

Blair sat on the arm of the chair. "Okay, I'm listening. Tell me what you think you've heard."

Jim sat back on his haunches. "Okay. This is how I think it went down. Basically you were set up. Someone got the janitor to go down to the basement on some ploy. I don't know what, but he opened the door just as you were changing..."

"See that's where you start to go wrong, Jim. I'd locked the door..." Blair frowned and his voice trailed away.

Jim smiled grimly. "Now you are thinking objectively, aren't you? As in, how did the janitor get in if you'd locked the door? I mean, you clearly saw him in the room with you on the tape, right?"

"He had his own set of keys..." Blair suggested, uncertainly.

"True, he did, but I don't hear him using them on the door. Did you leave the key in the lock?"

"No, given that we seem to be able to access some of our human problem-solving brain, I didn't want to make it too easy for wolf-me to get out. I took the key out and put it with the camera."

"Yeah, knowing you, I thought you'd do something like that. And anyway, if you had left it in the door, it's unlikely the janitor would have been able to open it with the key on the inside. Okay, let's leave that for now. He opened the door. You were still in the process of transforming. He made some sort of sound of surprise or horror, you turned around. He started to back away..."

"You can't have heard him do that, Jim! Even you can't hear things when you weren't there."

"No, genius, I saw that on the tape, just as it went fuzzy, and the sound carried on recording longer than the picture did. Then, and this is where I have to theorize given the noises I heard and what I know from the evidence, he backed out of the room, I heard his footsteps. Someone else, the same someone who lured him down there, was waiting. I've checked it out at the scene and there's another faint 'doggy smell' near the exit door. I think they'd already opened that door before they transformed. The caretaker saw the other wolf, and ran for that door. The other wolf allowed him to get out of the building before attacking." Jim leaned forward, clasping his hands together between his knees. "I think you followed after your own transformation, but the other wolf had already savaged or was savaging the poor man as you got there. Then the wolf ordered or got you to go with him. I feel I know you well enough to know that your human side would not allow you to kill anyone, however desperate you are to avoid discovery. Another member of the pack however...."

"You're thinking Blackstone, aren't you?"

Jim nodded. "He has most to gain by involving you in a murder, yes, 'though it could have been Pete on Blackstone's orders."

"Pete said he'd found me in the basement, but he said it was too late for Bob..." Blair still looked doubtful. "As much as I believe you and trust what you say, there's no way of proving this. No way can I ever be totally certain."

"There is one way, but it would involve Dan Wolf."

"The Police M.E.? Why would he help?"

"Dan was raised by his grandfather who was the tribe's medicine man. Dan's father left the reservation; didn't want anything to do with what he called mumbo jumbo, according to Dan. Dan stayed. I'm sure he knows something. He's dropped some big hints about 'night rovers'. Although normally it would be Serena Chang's department, I can ask Dan to do a DNA test on the bites to see if they match with your saliva. If they don't and I am pretty damn sure they won't, then that would clear you, and put your mind at rest."

"Are you sure he would do this and keep quiet about it?"

"Yes."

"How long would it take – before the results come through?"

"Not sure, forty-eight hours?"

"Forty-eight hours to find out if I am innocent or guilty.... Gods, it's going to feel like years!" Blair took a deep breath. "So do I have to do my own swab?"

As he'd thought, the two days were the longest forty-eight hours of Blair's life. He swung between hope and trust in Jim's senses to total doubt and despair.

Jim also had misgivings. He trusted what his senses told him, but only to some extent. What if they were wrong? What if he was giving Blair false hope? Bad news could destroy the kid and he mattered too much to Jim for that to happen....

Neither man got any sleep.

The results from Dan Wolf were conclusive. Blair's saliva didn't match that on the caretaker's body.

"I didn't kill him," Blair said slowly looking at Jim for conformation as he stood in the loft, the results in his hand.

"No."

"I didn't kill him," Blair repeated, looking down at the paper.

Jim smiled gently. "No."

"I haven't killed anyone." He looked up again.

"Not as far as I'm aware."

"God... Jim!" Blair grabbed Jim's head and pulled him into a celebratory kiss.

If Blair intended anything by his move, it was just a celebration-of-life kiss, but Jim moaned and Blair's body responded, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly they were clutching each other as if their very lives depended on each getting as close as possible to the other's body. Their months opened, tongues began to explore – and then Blair leapt away as if stung, his fingers flew to his lips.

"Oh my God!" he said, looking horrified. "I could infect you!"

He stepped away, tugged at his hair. "I don't even know if I'm infectious all month or only at the full moon." He looked up at Jim with terrified, wide eyes. "I could turn you in one kiss!"

He turned and ran, slamming the door shut behind him leaving Jim standing stunned, his arousal rapidly deflating.

Blair finally stopped running when he got a stitch in his side. He bent over to relieve the pain and realized his phone was ringing in his pocket. There was a text message waiting from Jim. For a moment, Blair thought about deleting it, but curiosity won out and he opened it up.

"Come back. I promise no more shared bodily fluids, but please come back. We can't sort this out with you on your way to Timbuktu."

Despite himself Blair chuckled. Then he sighed deeply and started the walk back to 852 Prospect Avenue.

Jim opened the door before Blair knocked.

"At least I now know why the pack gets off on the werewolf sex. It's the only sex that's safe except with our own hairy hands!" Blair said as he walked in, trying to make a joke out of the situation and unaware of just what he'd revealed.

For Jim, Blair's words were the final piece of the puzzle. 'Werewolf sex' – he guessed Blair was on the receiving end of that. He also guessed it was more akin to rape, a power trip where Blair was on the bottom.

He pulled Blair into a hug, kissing the top of Blair's head. "We'll work it out, Chief."

"I hope so!" Blair said, holding Jim tightly. "This sucks big time!"

"You can say that again!" Jim kissed his head again and let Blair go and moved towards the kitchen.

"Oh man! I am so sorry! Here I am thinking about me.... At least I can get my rocks off once a month with the pack – even if it's not that pleasant an experience," he added softly. "While you are with me you can't..." He cleared his throat. "Listen, Jim, if you want to turn to someone else, you know, I understand..."

Jim was shaking his head. "Get that idea out of that brain of yours. I've managed before on my own." He threw down the dishcloth he's used to wipe down the work-top. "Let's take a different look at this. How and when did your ex infect you?"

"I knew him about a month," Blair said, thinking. "Which would fit with the whole lunar cycle. He gave me the bracelet the same night he bit me... which would be..." Blair paused to check the calendar Jim had up. "The night after the full moon. I chucked him out the following day."

"Had you done the deed before that? Had you and he even French kissed?"

Blair's frown deepened. "Well, yeah, of course. Look, I know what you're saying; the bite and the bracelet are related. You have to have the bracelet on before the bite can turn you. The alpha suggested as much, but then I don't trust a word out of his mouth."

"So it's possible that you have to have your saliva in contact with my blood, hence the bite thing."

Blair nodded slowly. "But I can't risk that with you. I don't want you to have to face this situation. It may not be just blood..."

Jim smiled grimly. "I understand that.... Having you around as a wolf could be interesting though. Do you have a sweet spot like a dog does?"

Blair smiled in spite of himself. "What you want me on all fours so you could scratch my back and have me going out of my mind with doggy bliss?"

Jim was trying not to laugh. "I could start by just scratching behind your ears and work my way down."

Blair shook his head but he was grinning broadly. "You are seriously perverted, you know that?"

Jim walked towards Blair and wrapped his arms around him. "You were the one talking about going down on all fours." He paused. "We okay?" he asked, tentatively.

Blair nodded. "Yes, yes we are."

"Good. So all we have to do now is find a way to break the curse and all will be well. No more frustration for either of us."

He released his hold and Blair laughed as he looked at Jim. "Simple! Okay, so I will go hit the books again." He turned to go.

"Blair, I care about you, you know? It's not just that I'm hot for your bot."

Blair laughed. "I love you too, man."

Blair returned to his research with renewed optimism and hope. Maybe he'd missed something, some clue however small, which would show him a way to beat the curse and be with Jim. There had to be something....

Blackstone opened the door to his palatial home himself and stepped back to allow his young visitor to walk in.

"Amber, my dear, you look very attractive today," he said taking her coat.

"Thank you, Mister Blackstone."

He led Amber into his lounge.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you."

Blackstone poured himself a shot of whiskey. "My doctor tells me I drink too much, but, you know, I think I will still be here when he's departed this earth."

He sat on his couch.

He didn't offer Amber a seat.

He leaned back, making himself comfortable with one arm spread over the back of the couch, his hand swilling his drink in the glass. "So, my dear, what did you find out for me about the fascinating Mister Sandburg's latest activities?"

"He's been studying some sort of mystical stuff, things based around Native American legends and myths, according to someone I know at the university library. He's been researching some very old documents about creatures like werewolves and the effects of full moons; odd bits and pieces along those lines. Apparently he's done this before, but now he's going over everything with a fine tooth comb, as though he's missed something. My friend at the university said that's nothing new for Mister Sandburg. When he's into something he throws himself into it with all he's got."

She paused. "From everything I've heard he's a decent man, a good teacher. He must be for his professor to allow him to teach so many classes on his own."

"My dear, most senior professors tend to laziness; I dare say they have no compulsion in leaving the early lessons of their subjects to juniors if they can."

"It doesn't feel right. That's all I'm saying."

"Then perhaps it's time to put those pretty lips to another service; time to earn some more of your grant money, on your knees."

Amber knelt as told, hiding her revulsion in the mask of a smile, and slowly drew down the zip on Blackstone's fly. Of all her gentlemen, Blackstone alone made her feel dirty and cheap.

Blair stretched his upper body and rolled his neck, letting his head fall forward. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"This isn't working," he mumbled. "Why isn't this working!"

"Perhaps you try too hard."

Blair froze and opened his eyes slowly... to see the medicine man of his nightmares standing before him.

"Are you really here?"

"You summoned me. I am here."

"I've been trying to summon you for days!" Blair said and immediately regretted being abrupt with the spirit he'd wanted so desperately to speak to.

The spirit went to turn away.

"Wait!"

There was a noise, a mix of a growl and a roar which sounded around the room.

The spirit turned back.

"I'm sorry. I'm just... tired." Blair said.

"Why did you call for me?"

"To ask for your help. You placed a curse on some soldiers."

"They murdered my family. They destroyed my life."

Blair frowned. This vision in front of him was bitter and angry. Blair had a feeling it would be difficult to get his help in lifting the curse.

"And for that you have my sympathies, but the leader of the pack seeks to create an army of werewolves under his control."

The medicine man laughed out loud. "Impossible."

"Perhaps, but along the way he will harm many innocent people."

"Your people. People who still drive mine from their lands, contaminate my people with their ideas and diseases."

"I will apologize for things done long before I was born, but there are those now, both your people and mine, who seek to redress the balance. Your anger will not help those who strive to do this. There are good and bad in all nations, all tribes. I ask you to lift your curse or to help me destroy it."

"Why should I care?"

"Because of the innocents who will die."

"Perhaps you wish to kill the leader and take over his power?"

"No! I wish to end this once and for all; to be free to live a normal life with the person I love."

"They took away from me the person I loved. Why should I help you?"

Blair sat forward. "Are you with your family? Have you seen them since you died?"

"What is that to you?"

"You haven't, have you. The anger you carry keeps you away from them."

The spirit scolded. "We are punished all the while. I am not allowed to see them, nor they to see me."

"Then perhaps if you lift the curse if will help end your punishment."

"You know nothing about such things!"

"I am still learning, but if I can't be free of this, then there is no point in my continuing."

"You would take your own life?"

"Rather than hurt the man I love? Yes."

The warrior frowned. "You are both Medicine Man and Guide to what you call Sentinel."

"He is the man I love. I am his Companion, yes."

"The spirit world says you are strong and worthy."

Blair sat still.

The vision finally squatted, leaning on his spear. "Very well. But you will not like the remedy..."

Blair listened with growing horror. "Why would you do such a thing?"

The medicine man just shrugged. "The curse was created with my dying breath. Only something equally strong will end it."

"But it's cruel and extreme."

"What they did to me was cruel and extreme, why would I make the remedy less so?"

"But only one of the men who killed your family still lives. This curse has gone on for at least three generations."

"If your love is a true one, there will be no problem. If not... the Great Spirit will decide."

"Is there no other way of ending this?"

"No."

And the warrior was no longer there.

Blair hugged himself. How the hell was he going to tell Jim?

The next day at his office, Blackstone received a phone call.

"Mister de Mort on the line for you, Mister Blackstone."

"Ah, thank you, Mary. Please put him through....

"Pierre, my friend, what can I do for you?"

"I thought you should know, sir, Mister Sandburg came to see me."

"About the chance of making more bracelets?"

"No sir, he wanted to know if there was any black magic that would release him from a curse."

"And you told him no."

"I did. I told him only the person who placed the curse could remove it."

"Which of course is out of the question."

"I am not so sure, sir. There's a light in this Mister Sandburg."

"A light? What light? What are you talking about, man?"

"It's as if he can't be touched by evil. No matter what you do, he will always fight against what he feels is morally wrong."

"You're sure about this?"

"Magic arts are never completely reliable, you know that. But I know when I see something like this. He will never help you the way you think he will."

"What about his cop? What if he is hurt?"

"From what I have been shown by the spirits, if you hurt one, you hurt the other, but both would prefer death if you kill one. They are linked in some way I can't see, but it's strong. There are strong spirits protecting them both."

"I see. Thank you, Pierre."

Blackstone carefully put down his phone, tapping the receiver with his fingers. Then he picked up the phone again and began dialing.

"I wish I didn't have to ask you to do this. But, God knows, Jim, I've tried to find another way to stop them. I've gone through piles of books and Web sites. I've looked for the most obscure books for anything, anything at all." Blair ran his hands through his hair, "This," he gestured, "is the only way out I can see."

His voice softened. "I don't want to leave you, I know how hard it will be for you, but if I don't go along with the others, they'll be suspicious. They watch me until I change, and once that happens, I can't guarantee I won't kill you."

Jim ran his hands up and down Blair's arms. "Please, Blair, I'll do anything for you, but not this. You can't ask me to do this. It'll kill me too."

Blair swallowed. "I don't have any choice, Jim. If Pete was even a small percentage right and once the others die, I go on the rampage and kill someone, I just couldn't live with myself – especially if that someone were you. If you can't promise me you will shoot me the same as the others, then I may as well kill myself now."

"Blair!"

"Jim, you know I love you. I've told you that. But I've gone through so much research to find more about the man who put this curse on. I've looked at Native American folktales and stories of white atrocities. I've meditated; gone into trances; tried to dream-walk... everything I've found or experienced suggests that the family were wiped out; there were no survivors of this butchery. The medicine man put this curse on the hunters with his dying breath. He told me himself, this is the only way. You know, in your heart of hearts, in your instincts, there is no other way. To be free of this curse, I have to die."

He paused, stroking Jim's face. "The only way to lift this curse is for me to give up my life willingly by the silver from a lover. Only then will I be 'plucked from the jaws of death'. I know you hate this mystical stuff, but I believe in it. If you can't find it in you to trust in that, then trust my belief in it. Trust me."

Surprisingly getting the silver was relatively easy. Blair got a silver knife from one of the 'alternative new age living' shops. Jim talked one of his exs who made artisan jewelry into dipping a couple of empty bullet cartridges and two arrow heads into silver, as a gift for a 'friend'. Then it was just a matter of refilling the cases and attaching the arrows.

All the while it felt surreal to Jim. Here he was, finding weapons to kill werewolves, the man he loved included. It felt like something out of a bad horror film, one that wouldn't end well for either of them.

With every night, the full moon came closer into being. Blair watched the calendar and became more and more edgy. He tried not to let it affect his work, or his time with Jim, but it seemed as if their emotions bounced off each other. Finally the day of the full moon arrived and Blair found a message in his mail box at the uni; the rendezvous had been changed. Instead of meeting in the forest, he was given directions to a small water-side jetty and told to be there an hour before moon rise.

His first thought was to phone Jim.

"Damn! Okay, we can still work with this. Don't panic, Chief. I'll follow you in a motorized dinghy and keep a little way back."

Jim put the phone down and began to get prepared. He collected his array of silver tipped weapons, and his keys then headed out to get there well ahead of time.

Jim watched as Blair reached the rendezvous. He was a good distance away, too far for anyone in the pack to see him in the dying light, trying to look inconspicuous by tiding a rope.

He saw another man arrived, ignoring Blair. Together they walked to where a dinghy was waiting with a third man on board, and the two men climbed into it. As it pulled away, Jim started up the dinghy he'd borrowed, focusing on Blair's voice and heartbeat.

Blair sat in the small dinghy and tried not to fidget. He spared a glance at the others in the boat with him; the one steering obviously aware of where they heading, the other staring forward.

"It's Carl, right? It's your son I've been tutoring, yes? He's a bright lad, you know, but he lacks direction and focus. If you could find your way into encouraging him..."

The man half turned to look at Blair. "Look, Sandburg, you've done a good job with him. But don't try and tell me how to raise my son, okay? You may feel we are all part of a team here, but we only get together for this. We aren't buddies. Got it?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, just making small talk here. Sorry." He looked down at his clasped hands and tried to focus on the swell hitting the side of the boat. He prayed that Jim was following, but daren't look behind to check.

Moored in a quiet cove was Blackstone's yacht. One man tied the dinghy to the steps and they boarded the boat. Two of the men stayed on deck.

Blair was called down to the cabin by Blackstone. The other guys stayed on deck lighting some dynamite and throwing each stick into the water, laughing as the fish bubbled to the surface and floated there.

"Boys will be boys," Blackstone said, smiling as he poured out a drink. "You remember, Blair, how I told you about my troop leader?"

Blair nodded, unsure where this was going.

"As I said before, he was a strong man, but that first full moon we all turned, he couldn't take it. He went to pieces, howling, trying to scratch his skin off... I knew then that I was stronger than him. When I forced him to submit..."

Blackstone threw his head back and laughed. "God, what a rush! It was incredible; forcing him to go down before me, forcing him to accept me as his superior. I can still feel his channel gripping my cock so tight... I really hammered it home!"

With disgust, Blair could see Blackstone's jeans tenting as he recalled the experience.

Blackstone laughed again. "The man just couldn't take it. He ate his gun the next day after loading it with silver. I slipped his bracelet on my arm and my old one fell off. I knew then it was meant to be."

Blair couldn't stop himself. "You're a serial rapist, Blackstone, a rapist and a murderer."

Blackstone shook his head. "Words, Blair, semantics. That's your trouble; you are too moralistic." He wagged his finger at Blair. "Perhaps the sex is part of the curse but the truth is the pack gets off by gang-banging one another. We enjoy it."

He put down his empty glass. "I have tried to find someone who could create more of these bracelets, scientists, alchemists, natives, I thought you, with your knowledge and second sight... in fact with your knowledge of indigenous people I had an idea that we could hunt in other countries."

Blair stared at Blackstone, afraid of what he was hearing. "You're not talking about hunting animals, are you? You are talking about hunting humans!"

"Don't look so shocked, young man. We are basically carnivores; why else would we have teeth for tearing meat? Humans are the ultimate prey, pitting their brains and senses against our own."

"You've hunted men before?"

"Yes, once or twice. And once you've tasted human flesh, you find ordinary animals pretty bland."

He turned fully towards Blair. "The pack has changed over the years. I've moved it around the world. Some of the others have been weak like the first leader, but I've filtered them out after they've outlived their usefulness. No one, and I mean no one, has ever tried to take my place as leader. And then you come along. Let me tell you, son, you with all your brains and abilities, you are weak. You have become an aggravation. One I will not tolerate any longer." He went to the door. "Boys!"

The two remaining members of the pack entered at his command.

"Take him. Lock him up downstairs, chain him too. We won't go ashore tonight. He will be our prey and when we're done with him, not even his cop friend will recognize what's left. Then we'll turn Detective Ellison. I fancy some cop ass and maybe later we can spring that rogue CIA guy, Becket? Bucket? Brackett? Wonder which one would beg the most nicely for my cock? I bet that Brackett would love to have a go at the cop who put him away!"

At his words, Blair kicked and struggled as the men tried to drag him away. He almost succeeded in escaping their grip when Blackstone mumbled, "Oh for God's sake!" and punched Blair hard on the jaw.

Blair's head shot back, rendering him almost unconscious.

"Take him away." Blackstone turned back to his decanter of whiskey, picking up and fingering Pete's bracelet as he did.

Jim cursed.

He was standing on the shore, his dinghy beached while he took stock, looking out to the yacht, listening with a nail pressed in his hand so that the pain would stop him from zoning out.

That wasn't part of the plan! They were supposed to come ashore, then Jim would pick them off one by one as they turned, leaving Blair until last when he would shoot his friend in the shoulder and, once the bracelet fell off, he'd dig out the bullet and keep Blair alive. Then the idea was for Jim to hide the bodies of the others to be dispose of later... not the best plan and not one Jim had readily agreed to, but it was all they had. Now what?

He swiftly grabbed his bow and gun and pushed his dinghy away from the shore rowing as quietly but as swiftly as he could.

He used all his Black ops training to climb onto the boat stealthily.

He took the first man down just as the moon started to rise, the man fruitlessly clutched at the silver-tipped arrow that was embedded in his jugular, then he crumbled, hitting the deck with a soft thud. The second man was just as easy; the silver blade cut his throat as Jim came up behind him.

Jim paused long enough to wipe his blade on a discarded rag. He smiled grimly as he noticed the box of dynamite. Instead of leaving the bodies in the open until he could return, he could blow up the boat with the pack on board. He knew how to cobble together a make-shift short-range remote detonator....

Now there was just the alpha to dispose of and then... shoot Blair, remove bullet, clean wound, which should turn Blair back to being human....

Then just get himself and Blair off the boat, and get him to hospital with a good explanation of why Blair had a bullet wound. Easy! Huh!

Okay, Ellison, one step at a time. Blackstone first.

He edged along the boat to the entrance to the cabin.

The full moon cast surreal shadows around the boat; everything was bright white or dark shade.

Nothing moved. There was no sign of the alpha.

Jim strained to hear any heartbeat –

Suddenly the werewolf sprang out of nowhere; causing Jim to fall and lose the bow he was carrying over the side of the boat. He grabbed for his gun, only for Blackstone to backhand him. Jim's gun went skidding across the deck.

He leapt onto Jim, scratching and biting. Jim sent up quick thanks to whomever that he'd put extra padding on to protect his body. Even so, the creature was incredibly strong. Jim only had one arm free and that was the arm away from his knife. He stretched out, reaching for anything to use as a weapon and found the metal box that contained the dynamite. With all his strength he heaved it against the beast. Blackstone was taken off guard and rolled over briefly, only to roar and spring back just as Jim grabbed one of his arrows. Blackstone roared once more as the arrow pierced his body. Then he went still falling heavily on top of Jim.

Jim carefully rolled him away. He could hear Blair below pulling at his chains. First to plant the dynamite and make it look as though an accidental explosion caused the boat to sink taking all its passengers with it and then....

There was just one more of the creatures to take down and Jim was trying very hard not to remember who this one was.

He found Blair chained up below decks. The werewolf snarled at Jim as he came close.

"Easy, Chief. I'm trying to get you free here."

Jim searched around until he found a hammer and a screwdriver. The sound of hammer against chain echoed around the enclosed area and both man and wolf flinched.

"Okay, this isn't going to be easy, but bear with me."

Once free, the creature stood to its full height. It went over to the ladder to the hatchway, spittle dripping from its jowl. Jim didn't dare move. Then it hesitated, turned and looked at Jim, waiting for something. Jim raised his gun, and, in that moment, he saw Blair's blue eyes looking at him and found he couldn't shoot.

"Please, Chief," he begged, "there has to be another way! Don't make me do this."

The werewolf's eyes gazed sorrowfully at him. Then it shook its head as if trying to shake off a spell, and snarling, lifted its hands to attack Jim, Jim raised his gun and shot before he could think. The animal staggered back. Its hand went to its shoulder. It looked confused, startled – then it roared in pain. It started once more to move towards Jim, but then it hesitated, whimpered heart-breakingly – and suddenly collapsed onto the deck, blood appearing on the upper left chest of its pelt.

Jim stepped forward cautiously. He could hear the creature's heartbeat slow... and then something began to happen. Its body went into some kind of spasm. Its back arched off the deck... then... the fur seemed to part and fall away and then just vanished, and in its place was the naked, pale skin of Blair Sandburg.

Jim dropped his gun and ran forward, falling to his knees beside his friend, his hands on Blair's chest. He felt Blair's heart stop. There was a soft 'clink' as the bracelet fell from Blair's arm. Jim began to administer CPR, frantically willing Blair to live.

"Come on, Chief. I can't make it on my own. Don't do this. Damn it, Blair. You promised! This isn't supposed to happen!"

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. His hands were red with blood. He heard a soft padding sound and reached for his gun, frantically wiping his eyes and swinging around to shield Blair's body with his own as he did. Something reached out for Blair's arm and tried to pull him away from Jim.

"No!" Jim turned to confront whoever was trying to take Blair away... and slipped over onto his back side as he saw a large timber wolf right in front of him. It snarled at Jim as he tried to take Blair back.

Suddenly, Jim found he was frozen in place, not able to fire his gun, not even to turn his head away from this new desecration as the wolf, with great care, gnawed into Blair's shoulder, snuffling around and then pulling at something. It pulled back with something shiny held delicately in its teeth; the silver bullet. It spat it out and then lapped at Blair's wound. Jim could only stare as the ragged, bloody edge closed before his eyes...

And saw a blue wolf in front of him. "Use your spirit guide, Sentinel."

Jim found he could move again. He placed his hands on Blair's face. "Come on, Chief, don't you leave me. Don't you let them win here."

Ahead of him, the light was growing brighter and it called to him.

Reluctantly, with a heavy weight in his heart, he slowly started to walk towards that bright light.

Then he heard something else, someone else. He looked around to see a large black cat appear....

.... A blue mist rose around Jim and he could see Blair as a wolf, leaving. Jim called him and Blair/wolf turned.

Jim put all his love and need out towards the wolf....

.... Blair listened to the sound of the cat, hearing so much more than just its heart beating.

He turned and began to run towards Jim as fast as he could, before the blue light could engulf him.

At the same time Jim began running towards the wolf....

They leapt at the same time....

Blair's body shuddered once... and he coughed.

Jim was suddenly back in the here and now.

"Blair?"

Blood pulsed though veins; there was warmth on the lips. The color was returning to Blair's face and he opened his eyes just a crack. "'s 'at you, Jim?"

Jim realized he'd almost stopped breathing himself. "Thank God! Damn it, Chief. Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear?"

Blair chuckled weakly. "I hear you, man." He closed his eyes and lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Don't let go now, Chief. We've got to get out of here." Jim realized the wolf was gone, but spared it no second thought. He hoisted Blair onto his shoulder and climbed out of the hatchway, across the deck, grabbing a blanket and Blair's backpack along the way, and then climbed down the steps, with care, to the small dinghy. Once far enough away from the yacht, he detonated the explosives. He didn't so much as flinch as the boat exploded behind him. It would completely cover his and Blair's tracks. He'd learnt a great deal in covert ops about destroying evidence. No one would ever find enough of the bodies to suggest anything other than a terrible gas leak that took out the hunting party of business men, and there was no trace that Blair had ever been on board.

Just as he thought he was safely away, the motor died.

Jim cursed. He half turned to see what the problem was, and frowned. The water around the boat was glowing by hundreds of tiny points of blue lights.

He suddenly realized that he could hear no sound, except for Blair's steady breathing.

He looked back at the yacht and his mouth fell open.

The explosion appeared to be frozen in time; the light from its burning paled by a halo of blue light which hovered over the water. In the center of the light was a figure, an Indian Brave. He raised his hand and five bracelets rose from the water, hung in the air for a moment, then merged into one golden ring. The brave plucked it from the air and then crumbled it as if it were nothing but dry earth.

The light began to fade, but then Jim noticed out of the corner of his eye, another ball of light, this time green, rushing through the forest and heading straight onto the water.

The Indian Brave also saw this light approach and he turned towards it. For a brief moment, Jim saw a woman reach out from the green light and embrace the brave, then the lights merged and became too bright for Jim to look at any more.

Suddenly the light was gone and the motor of the dinghy burst back into live making Jim jump. He quickly took control of the boat and steering it away from the again burning yacht.

Werewolves, spirit guides, now Native Americans, what next? he thought.

He looked down to his sleeping friend. "Guess this is our new normal, eh, Chief?" he said quietly.

Blair made a sound like a snort and burrowed deeper into the blanket.

Jim chuckled. "Okay, let's get you safe and warm. All the rest can wait."

Blair woke up disorientated. The bed was unfamiliar and for a moment he panicked.

"Shhh, Chief. You're safe."

Blair's head jerked around to see the man beside him. Jim had his eyes closed and he seemed to be asleep. "Jim?" Blair couldn't believe his own eyes.

"Yes, Blair." Jim smiled softly. Two sleepy grey-blue eyes opened and looked, warmly, at him. "You're safe. We're safe. Go back to sleep."

"I don't understand. Where's here? What happened? How safe?"

"I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, we are in my loft, in bed. Everything is fine. Just trust me, okay?" Jim waited until Blair gave a hesitant nod, and then he closed his eyes and snuggled back down.

Blair waited a moment, to see if Jim would explain any more, but he was exhausted and he didn't have any fight left in him. He curled into Jim's body and for the first time in he didn't know when, he relaxed.

He woke the second time to the smell of cooking.

"Food's up, Chief." Jim's voice floated up.

"I could eat." Blair suddenly realized that he was hungry.

"Well get down here then. I'm not bringing it up to you!"

Blair chuckled and climbed out of the bed. He noticed he was naked except for his boxers and pulled the robe that was across the bed over his body.

Jim was in the kitchen frying some Canadian bacon.

"Smells good. I didn't realize how hungry I am. I haven't eaten anything since..." His voice trailed off as he tried to remember when last he ate.

Jim's face softened. "After we've eaten, Sandburg."

Blair nodded. Soon enough to spoil his appetite.

"So... how safe is safe?"

Jim sighed and put down his fork. "The launch is destroyed. There's no chance of any evidence being found that's worth a damn."

"All dead?"

"Yes. I killed them with silver."

"I can't say I'm sorry for their deaths." Blair pulled up the sleeve of the robe to gaze at his bare arm. He touched the flesh. "The bracelet?"

"Gone. It came off when I shot you."

"You killed me...." Blair's hand flew to his chest. "There's no wound. What the hell happened?"

Jim shrugged. "I wish I could tell you. I was holding you, giving you CPR, trying to bring you back, when this wolf appeared."

"Another werewolf?"

"No, no. An honest-to-goodness wolf. Or at least some sort of wolf.... It pulled you away from me and I couldn't move a muscle. Then somehow it ripped open your chest, pulled out the bullet and licked your wound until it closed. I can't explain it, but I can't say I'm not thankful to whatever it was for bringing you back."

Blair frowned, trying to comprehend. "I had a weird dream about a wolf and a jaguar... Guess I didn't get the tunnel bit."

"I saw the same thing. They... we leapt towards each other and then you woke."

"Really? Cool. But why should I see a wolf not a werewolf?"

"I think it's your animal spirit, if you believe in such stuff, which could be why you didn't go over to the dark side as a werewolf."

"Wow, Jim. That's really mystical. You started believing in that stuff now?"

"Let's just say that I really don't want it to be a part of our lives for a good long while and leave it at that."

"I'm with you there. I've had enough of this weird shit to last a lifetime! So what happens now?"

"We go back to normal. You return to Rainier, surprised by the loss of your sponsor, and unfortunately poorer in sponsor-backed money. I return to work and carry on."

"That's it? What if the crime is investigated?"

"The evidence will suggest that another crime lord took down his rival and if there's anything that points otherwise, I'm in a position to hide our tracks."

"And what about the creature that killed Bob and Pete?"

"There's a rumor that Blackstone bred an especially ferocious hunting dog. He was seen burying something heavy in quick lime soon after Pete's death."

Blair's eyes opened wide. "Really?"

Jim looked at him. "What do you think! Rumors are easy to start, hard to quash."

"And what if I turn again at the next full moon?"

"Now the bracelet is gone, I don't think that's going to happen, do you?"

"No." Blair knew that deep down in his soul. With his death and the bracelet gone, the curse was lifted. "You'll never know how grateful I am to you, Jim. You laid your career, hell, your life, on the line for me."

"Yeah, well, you'd do the same for me."

Blair allowed his feelings to speak through his eyes as he answered, "Yes, I would, in a heartbeat."

Jim cleared his throat. "Well, it was for the good of the tribe too, Sandburg."

"Of course." Blair looked down. He noticed Jim's feet come into his line of vision.

Jim's hands settled on Blair's shoulders.

"But I couldn't help any member of the tribe without you being there for me, Chief. I couldn't do, wouldn't want to do, anything if you weren't around."

Blair looked up and smiled. "I love you too, man."

Epilogue

Blair laid on his back a face splitting grin on his face. Making love to Jim had been everything he'd ever dreamed of and more. He should be exhausted and having a power nap to recover, instead he was too pleased with himself to sleep.

"You're thinking again. I can hear you."

He turned towards his lover. Jim had his eyes closed but he was smiling.

"What, your sentinel powers are so good you can hear my thoughts now?" Blair asked, grinning even more.

"Yep. I can even tell what you are thinking."

"Okay, Sentinel mine, what am I thinking."

Jim opened his eyes to gaze lovingly at Blair.

"You are thinking, that was fantastic and isn't life good and it just can't get any better."

Blair laughed out loud. "How did you know?"

"Simple. I'm thinking the same."

"Thank you for waiting. I... I didn't want to rush into sex after..."

"You were worth waiting for. Too sappy?"

"A bit." Blair smiled. "But I can cope."

"How about I tell you I love you with a passion?"

"That's good too.... What did you tell Simon?

"That Blackstone was using a mix of carrot and stick to get a piece of your ass. That he threatened you, and Pete, to get to you."

"And?"

"Simon suggested that Blackstone may have set his dog onto Pete. I just said that it was possible."

"Lying to your boss, Ellison. Tut tut!"

"Obfuscating, Chief, just as you tell me. Sometimes the end justifies the means."

"Amen to that!"

Blair paused. "I still feel a little uncomfortable with the idea of being mounted from behind... you know."

Jim sat up a bit more against his pillow. "That's okay. We don't have to make love that way, though I do like that position myself."

"You do, huh?"

"Yep."

"That's good to know."

"I'm glad the therapy sessions are working," Jim said.

Blair nodded. "Me too. I know you aren't comfortable with this new age stuff, but talking things out with a shaman who is also an analyst worked for me. He didn't question all the weird stuff."

Jim chuckled. "Only you could find a therapist, who is also a shaman, in Cascade."

Blair punched Jim lightly on the shoulder. "You know it was Dan who put me onto him. It took a while for everything to come out and I don't think he really believed me at first, but then... he said he had a spirit visit."

Jim lay back with his arm behind his head. "These spirit guides get everywhere."

"Yeah, but I for one am very glad they do! I even wonder if they brought you and me together."

Blair turned his head to see Jim's reaction and chuckled as he realized his lover had drifted off to sleep.

"Okay, I get the message. Sleep first. Talk later..."

He tucked himself around Jim.

"... much later."

...and followed him into sleep.