4
Rebuilding the house was slow work, even for a warlock. Terry could have used an apparition charm to complete the job in a single afternoon, but the Code forbade such extravagant displays of magic in the midst of a human enclave. Besides, Clyde had left the store to his assistant to manage for a couple of weeks so that he could help his new lover. Terry didn’t want to do anything to shorten their time together.
It had taken patience to coax the story out of Clyde, but as they pounded nails and framed the walls, it had leaked out over a long afternoon. As with most things in the world of the unseen, it began with the war.
When Clyde was still a teenager, the battle between the clans of magic and the night dwellers had already been raging for many years. Like most young werewolves, he didn’t really understand what had started it, but a spark of resentment had lit a fire in the belly of those who believed the witches and warlocks were abusing their hold over the vampires, werewolves and shape-shifters. Savage attacks were countered with evil enchantments, and the world of the unseen was torn in half.
Clyde’s father had been their pack leader, and his family had lived in these hills and forests for generations. He was both a kind man and a fine leader, protecting the timber wolves and their half-human brothers with compassion and skill. On the night of the full moon in the month following Clyde’s seventeenth birthday, he had watched in horror as his father was slit from neck to groin by the electric charge of a witch’s curse.
In wolf form, he stood over his father’s body and howled as the witch delighted in his anguish, inflaming him with a burning and careless hatred. He turned to pounce but his limbs were seized and he could only stare in impotent fury as she methodically ripped his father’s heart from his chest and threw it at Clyde’s feet.
“A new heart to replace your broken one,” she laughed. “Perhaps you are young enough to learn from this and will not be so foolish as to challenge the power of those who rule.”
“I am a werewolf,” cried Clyde, struggling against the bonds that held him firmly in place. “We are ruled by none.”
“You are a child,” retorted the witch, “and you cannot even rule yourself. If you are so proud of your bestial form, you may keep it. I curse you to shift at the setting of every sun, without the blessing of mother moon, that you might relive the lesson of this night. Live in terror, little wolf, of that which you cannot control.”
The witch released her hold as she vanished, and the first rays of morning found Clyde digging a grave for a man whose body had been viciously torn in half. His uncle Luke had become the Alpha male, but Clyde had never again felt truly comfortable in his pack. The timber wolves shunned him, unaccustomed to having a werewolf among them every night, while his human brothers found him freakish and odd. Over time, they became more accepting of Clyde’s presence, but his curse came with an unbidden sense of shame.
Terry listened to the saga in stony silence, horrified but unsurprised. He knew of the acts of barbarism his people had wrought on the night creatures, but knew also of the bloody reprisals that had taken so many lives, including that of his own father. The uneasy truce had held since the peace talks, but none was too sure whether it had the strength to last.
“And that was Beatrice?” asked Terry, putting down his hammer and moving to sit where Clyde was moodily picking at a piece of raw lumber.
“Yes. I never saw her again, but my uncle told me she was responsible for the attack on our pack.”
“I could feel a great presence when I was removing the curse. She’s one of the most powerful witches I’ve ever come across,” said Terry thoughtfully. “I wonder if breaking the curse will draw her back out.”
“How would she know?” asked Clyde in surprise.
“She’ll feel it. It’s hard to describe, but she’ll sense a kind of trembling in her aura. Casting a spell draws a small fragment of the person’s soul into your being, and when the spell breaks, you feel its release.”
“Have you ever cast a spell on anyone?” asked Clyde curiously.
“Only you,” replied Terry evasively, pressing his lips to Clyde’s cheek and feeling the rough stubble with his tongue. “You need a shave.”
“That’s about at the bottom of the list of what I need right now,” responded Clyde, pulling off his sweater. “I think we need to go back to the barn for a hay inspection.”
That afternoon, the locals would have been astonished to see the progress on Terry’s new house, and all the more so if they had noticed that the two builders spent most of it high in the hayloft, oblivious to anything but the heady rhythm of their passion.
On the night of the first full moon, Terry couldn’t sleep. He had watched anxiously as Clyde prepared to leave the barn, not wanting Terry to observe his impending shift. He had no idea what Clyde did when he was in his wolf form, and didn’t really know how to ask.
He was still awake when dawn broke, and watched as Clyde emerged from the woods, naked and clutching a bundle of clothes to his chest. He ran on the balls of his feet, lithe and graceful despite his muscular frame, unaware of Terry’s relieved gaze.
“It’s fucking cold out there,” complained Clyde as he threw himself on the barn’s makeshift bed. “I think I froze my dick off.”
Terry smiled. “Still there as far as I can see, but maybe a bit smaller than one might have wished for.”
Clyde grunted and flipped himself on his side. “I’m totally bagged. You’ll just have to magic up some patience.”
“Alright, I have to ask,” Terry finally burst out. “What exactly were you doing out there?”
Clyde sat up and gave Terry a strained look. “Nothing,” he answered defensively. “I mean, nothing bad. We just kind of hang around, sniff butts, that kind of thing.”
“Sniff butts?”
“Not literally, but the gathering is more like a ritual than anything else. We feed off the magnetism of the pack. It’s kind of like a strength that comes over us when we’re all together. I think that if we didn’t form the brotherhood every month, the essence of who we are would just slip away. I know I’m not explaining it very well, but I guess you have to be a werewolf to really get it.”
“No, I get it,” nodded Terry. “The same thing happens in a coven. A feeling of belonging is a very powerful force.”
Clyde didn’t answer, and Terry poked him gently. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s just that it’s always been hard for me to fit in because of being different. None of my brothers could get their heads around what it meant to change every night. Some of them thought that meant I could never be truly trusted. It’s taken me years just to feel like a real member of my own pack.”
“So?”
“So this thing with you is throwing me off.” Clyde reached for Terry’s hand and squeezed it gently. “They know about the curse being gone, but I didn’t tell them who lifted it. They think some random warlock did me a favor and then beat it. I feel like I’m lying to everyone because you’re very much a part of my life now and I think that would matter to my pack.”
“If you’re serious about me, then you need to come clean with your clan,” said Terry firmly. “Just tell them.”
Clyde stared at Terry as if he’d just grown a second head. “Oh sure, I’ll just say ‘Hey guys, I hitched up with a warlock and I know he’s a sworn enemy of our people but he’s got a cute ass and you’re just going to love him’.”
Terry laughed. “I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but things are never going to change if we can’t accept alliances. This is about more than how we feel about each other. It’s a way of showing the unseen world that the peace is real, and that we can all move on from the wrongs of the past.”
Clyde shook his head uncertainly. “I don’t know. I just don’t think they’d take it very well.”
“Look, are you going to feel this way after every full moon? Like you’re somehow betraying your pack?”
“Probably,” admitted Clyde.
“Then you’re going to have to take me to them. Let them see for themselves that I mean them no harm and genuinely care for you.”
“I’ll think about it,” replied Clyde grudgingly. “At least I’ve got a month before I have to make a decision.”
“I’ll still be here,” said Terry.
“Yes,” said Clyde, pulling him close. “I truly believe you will be.”