Dani Harper - First Bite

He’d forgotten what a simple pleasure it could be to have companionship. Without a pack for so many years, he’d denied himself any contact with his kind. It was better that way. Easier. Or so he told himself. Besides, there was always that little voice in his head telling him that he didn’t deserve the comfort of a friend…or a mate.

Neva slowed, pausing to lap up water as she waded through the reeds. Travis’s momentum sent him dashing ahead for several strides before he realized she’d dropped back. He came bouncing back, splashing her thoroughly, knowing that the guard hairs of her outer coat would repel most of the water. She gave him a look, but he ignored it.

She sniffed and sighed. Glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

And you’re not? He didn’t believe that for a moment. A new wolf that was properly nurtured and protected through its first Change was an awful lot like a puppy at first. A brand-new world begged to be explored with senses far more acute than anything a human could imagine. I’ll bet you’re afraid to enjoy it.

I’m not afraid. I just don’t want to get used to it. Tell me how to Change back now.

Why do you have to be such a control freak? Your wolf isn’t out to run your life, you know.

Maybe, maybe not, but someone else is. And I’m not giving her any opportunity to take over. Now hurry up and tell me what to do.

Travis shook his big shaggy head. So you’re not afraid of your wolf, but you are afraid of your sire.

Anyone with half a brain is afraid of her. Quit stalling and help me.

I am helping you. If you think that your sire is any less able to command you when you’re human, you’re dead wrong.

Neva stared at him with horror in her eyes, then suddenly struck out for deep water. Travis didn’t even try to follow her. Instead, he turned and waded to shore, where he took his time carefully shaking out his fur. Finally he sat and watched Neva’s frantic efforts, knowing full well what she was trying to do.

And knowing exactly how it would turn out.

Neva’s mood was dismal when she finally clambered out of the water. It was further soured as she discovered Travis sleeping in a thick patch of clover. Sleeping , for heaven’s sake. While she was out there, while she was…The truth abruptly dawned on her.

You knew, didn’t you?

He yawned and stretched. Yeah, I knew. I knew what you were trying to do, and I knew your wolf wouldn’t allow you to harm yourself.

It won’t allow…hey, you said it wasn’t out to run my life!

Under normal circumstances, it’s not. But your wolf runs on instinct, and instinct programs every creature to fight to survive no matter what. And it won’t make any difference if you’re in human form when you try to off yourself—your wolf will not only take over, it will Change you no matter where you are and who you’re with. Understand? If you’re in the middle of Grand Central Station and your wolf thinks you’re in danger, it will rise up and defend you. Even from yourself.

She sat abruptly. You knew this would happen. You knew all along that if you could just make me turn—

I’m a Changeling—of course I knew what would happen. But you make it sound like I planned it. I didn’t make you Change.

Yes, you did. You kept me alive. I had everything under control until you came along.

Since when does jumping off a fucking cliff mean things are under control?

He was on his feet now, tawny fur bristling, broad head lowered and lips pulled back to expose his long, sharp teeth. It wasn’t so long ago that Neva would have been terrified to be up close and personal with a seriously pissed-off wolf. Now it just irritated her.

Don’t you dare growl at me, mister. I’m the one who has to spend the rest of my life in hiding, thanks to you. And right now, she had no idea where on earth, literally, she could hide. South America? China? How big was Meredith’s network? It already seemed like her spies were everywhere.

Travis shook himself hard. There are no wolves in South America. You’d stick out like a sore thumb there. Why don’t you tell me about this sire of yours and maybe we can figure something out.

Hey, what’s in my head is private! Quit listening!

Quit broadcasting. It’s one of the things you need to learn, especially since you’re convinced that someone’s looking for you.

Great, just great. The good news just kept rolling in. Neva flopped onto the ground, not even bothering to shake herself off, and watched the moonlit water drip like jewels from her coat to the clover leaves. She glanced at the big, tawny wolf, which was busy rolling on its back with its paws in the air. What planet are you from?

Why?

Because you might be a werewolf, but you sure don’t know very much about them.

Travis rolled upright and curled his lip at her. And you think you do?

Look, I’ve seen somebody die during their first turning. And I think maybe he was the lucky one. Because everyone who succeeded became a stone-cold murderer. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. Not for Meredith, not for anybody. I’m not a killer.

The tawny wolf gave a derisive snort. Everyone is, given the right circumstances. But once you learn control—

Neva sighed deeply, then drew in air along the olfactory glands that lined her muzzle. The lakeshore was rich with scents—each plant had its own. She could scent that there was a bird sitting in a nest suspended in the taller reeds nearby. A small furry mammal—maybe a raccoon—was hunting along the shore where she and Travis had emerged from the forest and—

She could smell a Changeling. She couldn’t fathom how she knew what it was, but her wolf had snapped to attention.

Travis was already on his feet. Say nothing, think nothing , he ordered. We’ve got to get the hell out of here. Now.

Neva followed close behind him as he arrowed up the bank and into the cover of the forest. How are we going to get the truck?

Travis dove into a narrow game trail. Thick brush arched overhead, barely allowing any moonlight to spill through to the dark forest floor. He ran full out, grateful that Neva was able to keep up, at least for now. We’ll find another truck.

There was a pause. You stole it, didn’t you?

No more talking. I’m not the only one hearing you.

He figured her question was better left unanswered anyway. How could she understand the kind of life he’d lived, the lengths he’d been forced to go to in order to stay off the grid? He had no bank account, no credit cards, no driver’s license—at least, nothing in his own name. He dared leave no trail that would lead to him, paper or electronic. The only ID he’d ever had was a church baptismal certificate for Travis Williamson—from 1920. Tough to present that to the DMV.

In fact, it had become downright difficult to be a long-lived Changeling in a human world. If he was still with a pack, it would have been different. Most packs these days either cultivated contacts or had a couple of their own members who were computer savvy enough to create a lifetime’s worth of human records for each of the pack’s members. Illegal, of course, but only according to human laws. For his kind it was a matter of basic survival. Besides, most Changelings now hid in plain sight by living as humans. They had jobs and paid bills and went to school and mowed the grass and did all the everyday things that humans did.