Part I
When summer breathes its sunny breath
Salmon Falls, CA
"I don't see anything, Mulder. What do you suppose..."
Mulder held up a hand to quiet Scully. "Something is watching us. I can feel
it." There had been a gentle wind
blowing through the trees but it had stopped suddenly, adding to the eerie
feeling of stillness. They had been
looking for the Dorl camp for less than one half hour and already Fox was
uneasy about taking Scully out alone.
She instinctively drew her gun and, while she was nervous, her hand was steady
as it held the heavy weapon.
"Where do you think it is?" She didn't even hesitate in her thinking that
whatever it was might not be human.
The days of disbelief had been swept away along with the ways of the old world.
She didn't pause to reflect on
how distant that rational world seemed. She had discovered within herself the
ability to adapt to her new reality
with more ease than she ever would have thought possible. If anything, it was
Mulder who had the most trouble
of the two. There would be time later for her to reflect on the irony of that.
For now the hairs on the back of her
neck were standing at attention. Survival in this new world, like the old, was
based on the need for vigilance.
"I don't know," Mulder whispered. He felt as if there was something moving in
a circular pattern around him and
his partner. Earlier, moments really, he had sensed something moving passed
them—something that had stilled
the noises of the animals—but this was different. There was no describing
the difference. He heard Scully gasp
one moment before he saw the three women move out from different spots in the
sparse landscape, seemingly
appearing from shadows that simply had not been there before.
"Sleep, sister," the three women voiced as one. Their words, their tones so
similar, in such perfect cadence yet
still somehow sounding as if they were refracting, bouncing and beguiling. As
if one voice spoke with residual
echoes. Compelling.
Scully slowly crumpled to the ground, gently, as if cushioned by some unseen
force. Mulder tore his gaze from
the women, so beautiful were they it seemed a torment to take his gaze from
them. He moved to go to Scully,
worried despite the look of pleasure on her face. She lay as still as death,
but her breathing rose gently in her
chest.
"Fox," the voices called, softly. Whispering. The thrumming echo quality
irresistible. "Come here."
The command made him forget Scully, forget everything but obeying. Some dim
memory of Mikhail and his
seduction alarmed Mulder, but he went to the women who had gathered close
together, their arms beckoning to
him. They all had flowing hair, gentle ripples of red, gold and black. Their
bodies were covered in some
shimmering fabric that caught the light in arcs of colors. Their eyes burned
green, every one, and he thought of
shaded glens, mossy and moist. Smooth skin in shades of white, tawny and pure
ebony. Enchantresses.
"Sure are we that you are the one. Our master has given us your image," he
heard. "But different are you
now—so human."
One woman touched the medallion on his chest and smiled. "Tricked are we not,
Fox."
He nodded, feeling insufferably rude that he would think to try and trick these
visions.
"Come to want that which you see here, lovely one," they crooned while an image
began to form before him.
He was drawn into their midst. They circled him restlessly, weaving about him
as fluidly as their mingled voices.
They faded before him, like smoke, until another figure appeared before him,
resplendent in ivory silk. The
garment, an intimate robe, was silky around a powerful frame, masculine and
dark. He moaned a bit in
trepidation. He saw dark eyes first, compelling and intense. The face took
form and he drew back. Murdoch was
before him.
"Need him."
"Want him."
The words eddied about him in intoxicating demand and his eyes took in the man
before him. He shook his head
desperately as Murdoch reached him. A hand, gentle and yet so strong, stroked
his cheek and his body trembled
with remembered need. He remembered the absolute lust inspired in him, the
inevitable screams of need wrought
from his lips. He shook, desperate.
"Long for him."
He saw himself, legs spread, tied to the enormous bed, squirming on Murdoch's
tongue as that slick appendage
slowly pumped in and out of him, scraping his prostate, lapping at the
stretched flesh of his anus. Felt the
building orgasm, wanted it. He saw those black eyes looking up at him from
between his thighs, the full mouth
wet and hungry. His hips pumped up in remembered lust. Wanted to be filled,
to be fucked, to be pounded into
dust with the heavy sex he could feel on his leg, wet and hard. He tossed his
head and begged for it. God he
wanted it. Sliding onto Murdoch's fingers, pumping up and down angling to hit
that spot inside that made him
come undone. Remembered the hot mouth on his neck as he did as he was told and
fucked those thick fingers.
Their voices, rippling around him, were insistent. Stronger and more demanding
than before. He felt Murdoch's
hand leave his face and he sighed as it went to Murdoch's chest, parting the
fine fabric and trailing down.
Revealing hard muscles encased in bronze skin. Lower still and then dark hair
trailed downward under the big
hand.
"Lust for this."
"Lust for this."
He licked his lips, eyes wide as the hand further parted the ivory robe.
Gasping as he saw the quiescent member.
So impressive in size even in its unawakened state.
"Want to make him moan."
More commands. A dozen invitations and he felt dizzy with it. The desire he
felt all but eclipsed the commands.
He moved towards Murdoch only to find that for every step he made toward the
big man, Murdoch moved back, a
teasing smile on his handsome face.
"Lust, pretty prince. Lust. Call to him in lust."
Garren was truly going to pay, Alex thought. Akael was staying a few feet
behind him, but his presence alone, a
nursemaid, was infuriating. He threw an irritated glare, one in a long series
of such glares, back toward the huge
male when he noticed the frown on his face. Akael slowed and reached out a
hand to Alex. Placing his fingers on
his Alex's shoulder with gentle insistence.
"Stop."
"What is it?
Akael shook his head. "Something is ahead of us. Something wrong."
"Fox is ahead of us," Alex growled.
Akael cocked his head, then lifted his face and drew in a long, considering
breath. He could smell the male called
Fox, but the scent was wrong too. Human. There was nothing truly enticing
about his scent and he knew that
Fox smelled far sweeter than this. "He is...I think. But, something is
different." He frowned. In all his years he
had never had such a trouble with scenting a particular scent. He had had
trouble tracking Fox for the whole
morning. As if Fox weren't really ahead of them but some other human instead.
He had initially had no trouble
in heading in the right direction because Garren had passed close to Fox and
the little, succulent female. Now he
scented her and she too smelled differently. It was maddening.
To take his mind off that confusion he held Alex still. "The female sleeps. I
can scent that." The last statement
surprised him as it sounded, at least to him, like he was being defensive. His
frown darkened.
Alex shrugged the big hand off his shoulder. "Scully is sleeping? Just out
for a walk with Fox and decided to
sleep? I think you need more sleep if you think I'll believe that one."
Akael glowered as Alex moved on. He increased his stride now to stay a step
ahead of Alex. There were other
scents ahead. Foul scents. He could hear voices too and their grating
cacophony hurt his sensitive ears. Witches!
He drew up sharply and shook his head. "You stay here, Alex. I will check on
Fox. He and the female, Scully
are not alone."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Is he in danger?"
Akael missed the look of icy determination in his charge's face and nodded. He
hurried forward, commanding the
wolves who lingered nearby to watch their Garren's mate. Normally he would not
have left Alex's side, but
knowing the importance of Fox to Alex made him a concern for Akael. He had
taken only two long strides when
he heard Alex behind him. Growling in anger he continued. Garren would have
to discipline this one!
Feminine screams rent the air, horrible sounds that could only be the mortal
screams of witches. He halted
abruptly and gathered Alex into his arms, ignoring Alex's struggles.
"No, Alex! There is too much danger ahead," he commanded harshly.
Surprise etched his entire face as Alex gained his freedom. He had been felled
by a human! Impossible! And yet
here he lay on the ground, terrible pain in his throat where Alex's hand had
attempted to crush bones and tendons.
He saw Alex running toward the battle and he gained his feet with a roar,
changed and followed at a deadly pace.
Dimly Fox tried to fight the need that consumed him. "Walter," he whispered.
"Please! I need you." That plea
cost him greatly. To beg for help was intolerable and yet he repeated it as
the women's words enveloped him.
Suddenly he felt himself cast away from the women and from the ground he saw
them, truly saw them for the first
time. Not even remotely human now, horrible and wet. As if they had risen
from a bile-filled pool, dank and
reeking. He couldn't truly make out any feature save for burning green eyes.
Pulsing bumps, leaking grayish pus,
covered the three forms and he quickly scrambled backwards even as they began
to scream. He turned to crawl on
his hands and knees toward Scully. Scully! How could he have left her to lie
on the ground? He saw Skinner
then, standing above Scully, his eyes burning an intense red. He looked so
calm that it calmed Mulder, though he
still scrambled toward him. Behind him, he heard the—creatures—still
attempting to weave their spell, but this
time in an effort to control Skinner.
"Leave us! We are harmless! Let us live!" the women's voices entreated,
becoming mere whispers.
The echoing quality was still as compelling but Skinner only smiled. Mulder
saw a feral look of enjoyment on
Skinner's face and then there was one last scream, fractured, three women with
different voices, no more cadences.
The whispers of the women were fading now, but they did not seem to come from
behind him anymore. They had
been all around him, in the air he breathed, but they were falling silent, or
like the wind, they had traveled on to
other, darker regions.
Then silence.
He looked toward where the three hags had been and saw absolutely nothing. He
turned to Skinner, his face
showing his confusion. Skinner turned toward him and bent down to stroke Fox's
shoulder. He ran a hand
through Fox's hair, reveling in its texture.
"Are you all right?"
Fox nodded and let the question lie for a moment as he turned his attention to
Scully who was only now opening
her eyes.
"Scully? Scully, are you okay?" he asked.
She blinked slowly, took in Skinner's presence with a small frown and tried to
sit up. "What happened?"
A sudden rustling in the bushes startled the three before Alex came from the
bushes. He paused only a moment to
give Walter a strange look before hurrying to Mulder's side. He had knelt
beside his lover only moments before a
large form followed him, fully changed and uncaring of Skinner's presence.
Alex was the only one who ignored the furious beast. "Baby, are you okay?
What happened?"
"That is what I want to know," Scully grumbled, tearing her eyes from the huge
wolf. Alex had wrapped himself
around Fox in such a way that he was partially resting against her. She nudged
Mulder impatiently and he
immediately pushed gently at Alex to allow himself to get up.
Mulder stood unsteadily. "I don't know...there were three women..." he stopped
abruptly as he recalled
specifically what the three had been doing. "They had to have been sent by
Murdoch," he said brusquely. He
suddenly realized that Alex was with him and he pulled him to his feet, from
where he still kneeled by Scully.
"Alex," he breathed and pulled him close, kissing him deeply, not caring that
they had an audience.
"Alex, you will learn respect," Akael growled changing back to human form and
drawing close to the two,
embracing men. He looked very like he wanted to pull them apart. His amber
eyes were glowing with supreme
disapproval.
Skinner glared at the wolf and with a subtle push of pain into him, he let his
displeasure known. Akael responded
with a small growl.
"Leave it alone, Ascendant. You gave him into Garren's care. He is mine to
protect."
Alex and Mulder didn't even hear the exchange, nor did they notice Scully
gaining her feet. "Are you okay?"
Mulder asked softly, running a hand over Alex's face. He traced the square jaw
slowly. "I was so worried. I tried
to go after you. I wouldn't have let him take you—I never wanted this..."
"Shh, baby, I know," Alex purred unable to resist kissing Fox's plump mouth
once more. Fox was different
somehow, more like the man he fell in love with, sensual and beautiful still,
but more human. It thrilled him at
the same time it confused him. Nothing could ever keep him from wanting Fox.
Nothing. "What happened here?
There were screams..."
"They were women at first—I don't know, they were beautiful, but they
weren't..."
"Witches," Akael corrected, never taking his reproachful stare off of Alex.
"They must have risen for a reason.
They exist only in the darkest, still waters. Humans have never understood
them. Only the true ascendant can call
them. Can make them rise for his own purposes." He shook his head, wondering
anew at the threat of Murdoch.
Alex had been so close to the witches Murdoch had called forth. "I heard
them," he continued. "They have very
distinct voices. Horrible to hear."
Fox nodded distractedly though he had first thought the voices wonderful and
sweet. But it was true. They were
horrible. What they had said—what they had wanted. "They were..." he stopped
not wanting to admit to what
they had been doing. "Skinner killed them," Fox admitted. He reluctantly
turned to face Skinner, still holding
tightly to Alex. "Thank you, Walter. I—I needed—help." He tightened his
grip on Alex reflexively,
uncomfortable with that admission. Walter's eyes were so gentle, so full of
tenderness. He thought back to those
nights alone with him when Walter was his whole world and he mourned for that
moment. Why had he torn Alex
from him? How could he ever forgive him for that?
Alex stared at Skinner beneath dark lashes and nuzzled Fox's neck with his
nose. It hurt to look at Skinner.
There! He had admitted it to himself. There had been such a short time when
he had actually begun to feel like he
belonged, like he was valued. He squeezed Fox and wondered once more how he
had ever deserved this man. He
was the only sanity he had left. Fox's love was the only thing he had left to
cling to. He didn't even have his
physical superiority to fall back on. Not in this world. Akael should be
dead, not glaring at him as if he were a
naughty boy. Nothing made sense. Only Fox. Only Fox. He reveled in Fox's
strong arms about him, leaning
into him, wanting never to let him go.
Skinner stared into Alex's eyes, wishing he could find the words to erase the
look in those jade depths. Hurt and
anger. He shifted his gaze to Fox, seeing the reluctant gentleness there.
"Don't thank me, Fox. I'll always protect
you." He saw Alex's lips tighten and he wanted to call back those words. He
hadn't protected Alex. Had failed
him. Sold him. How he wanted to take the assassin into his arms and take all
the hurt away. Instead he looked
away, shamed by the unblinking jade accusation.
"I think it's time for everyone to go about their business now. Alex, you can
come with Mulder and me. We are
looking for someone," Scully said briskly. She dusted off her clothes, as she
dusted off the incident.
"Scully, you can't mean to go on after this?" Skinner asked, amazed. "Not
alone! Murdoch won't stop until he
has Fox! You don't even know what happened to you. What they did to you." His
eyes, brown again, still
burned with disapproval. He knew though that they would indeed go on,
traipsing about, pretending that they
could affect anything. That thought shamed him. These two had done things that
no two other people could
have—would have done. They had an energy and a determination that humbled
him. What he had done over the
years to help them paled in significance. But he didn't know how to explain to
them that all that was changed.
When they had gone after the Consortium or any of the many unexplained
creatures in the past they weren't what
they were now. He frowned then. In fact, they didn't seem changed to him now.
They seemed less there, more
human. Still beautiful, Fox did not have that draw that was the changed ones'
irresistible appeal. He wanted to
comment on that, but the big wolf was shaking his head.
"Alex will not be going," Akael said firmly.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Fox growled. "Alex isn't your puppet!"
"He isn't yours to endanger," Akael said calmly.
Fox immediately moved toward the big man and Alex held him back with a tight
squeeze. He wasn't sure if this
Akael would hurt Mulder and he wouldn't risk it. The thought of it made him
sick. Garren had more than one
thing to pay for.
"If Fox goes, I go," he answered for Fox. "If you think any differently, then
you're crazy."
Akael sighed and looked at Skinner who, surprisingly, was smiling now. Akael
knew the big man was enjoying
his difficulty with Alex.
"I would never endanger him, you son-of-a-bitch!" Fox growled. "You and your
bastard leader dragged him away
from me..."
"Do you insult my Garren?" Akael growled, appalled.
"Enough! I said we are going!" Scully said in a very slow, controlled voice.
"Skinner, if you and hairball here
want to tag along far behind, suit yourself." She raised her brow and stared
at each man, daring any of them to
contradict her. It was a look Skinner knew well. "Mulder, let's go." Not
waiting to see if he would follow, she
continued on her way.
Mulder gave one last glare at Akael and followed her, looking back to Alex to
make sure he was coming.
Alex gave Akael a warning look and followed the two former agents.
"You can go find your master, Akael, I will follow them," Skinner sighed.
"I will not. My place is with Alex. Garren does not need a keeper," he
replied meaningfully, following his charge
without a backward glance.
Skinner rubbed his face absently. Would Murdoch ever give up? It was a start
toward Mulder's continued safety
that he had called for him. If he did that in every instance of trouble, he
had no doubt that he could protect him.
There were strangers coming to them, coming towards the camp. At least ten
humans and the two ancient wolves
had arrived as well. He knew that Antonio was aware of them and had gone out
to meet the group of humans,
leaving Garren to confer with the two old wolves, but he wanted to be there
when they arrived.
Antonio was often easily distracted. If there was an attractive member in this
new group, Antonio would see
nothing else, possibly missing any danger that might lurk there while he
inspected the new bit of goods. The one
plus for Antonio's vigilance was that there was not a changed human among them.
He made his way back to the encampment, thinking of the best way to keep Mulder
safe. He arrived at the most
obvious answer as he walked. He had to destroy Murdoch. But could he? Could
Murdoch even be destroyed?
Another thought followed this one. If Murdoch was destroyed, there would be no
need to allow Garren to keep
Alex. He could once again be in the middle of Fox and Alex. He knew Garren
would never agree, but what if? It
was a dream worth dreaming if nothing else.
McClellan Air Force Base
Three studied the food given him with curiosity. He had never eaten this
particular dish before and food fascinated
him. It was a necessity only, but the way it was prepared seemed to indicate
that the sensation of taste was as
high, if not higher, a priority as the nourishment value of food. His brothers
were eating, but more interested in
the actions of the white coats than in their nourishment. One looked about
while Three watched and then, after a
pause, he took off the shirt that had been forced on him. Four smiled at One
in such an approving way that Three
smiled too. Four was the easiest to please but also the one who Three felt was
the most sensitive to other's
emotions. The white coats could upset Four much more easily by just changing
their tone.
A white coat was approaching One with a look Three had come to realize was
censure. There was a brief exchange
between the white coat and One before One replaced the shirt, his lip out
again. Three wondered just why it was
so important to wear the clothes. They weren't uncomfortable to him, but
seemed unnecessary. The white coats
covered themselves from neck to ankle though, so maybe it was simply a law.
He returned his attention to his food, picking at what he knew to be rice. He
inspected it for several minutes until
he too was spoken to by a white coat and urged 'Not to play with his food'
though he was certain he hadn't been
engaging in play. He ate it though, not wanting to get what Two had insisted
were lectures. He wasn't sure if that
was indeed the term, but they were to be avoided. A stern face, what Two
called 'the lecture face', always
accompanied these lectures. The white coats were getting more and more
impatient with him and his brothers.
They touched him and his brothers a lot and when their touches lingered, they
would always draw back and get the
lecture face before abruptly leaving.
It was curious.
He finished his meal and made his way to the restroom. That was a very
interesting room. Waste actually came
out of their bodies and he found that so fascinating. He also loved the room
because the shower was there. He
and his brothers had come to love showers. The hot water, the slide of soap.
Wonderful! A white coat followed
him, to make sure he would do everything correctly no doubt and he turned to
him.
"May I take a shower now please?" he asked.
The white coat paled. His skin went from the normal shade to white and then
burned red. Three was fascinated.
"I-I—can't! I—let me get Dr. Jhenny. He'll help you." The white coat
rushed from the room and Three peered
after him, leaning around the doorframe to watch the white coat's flight. The
man was behaving very strangely.
He had always been happy to shower Three before. Making Three feel those
wonderful sensations in his penis
with long strokes that made Three almost love him. He had even once used his
tongue on Three to clean his lips.
That had been strange too, but wonderful.
"Dr. Jhenny," the young aide breathed when he reached the older man. "You have
to help Three. He wants a
shower and I just can't do it! No more. He and the others take so many—I
can only take so much."
Dr. Jhenny frowned. He certainly didn't want to do it. It was getting hard
enough just to be in the same room
with the clones. They were like living, breathing aphrodisiacs. And the old
man would surely have any who
touched them killed. Oh, he, like the others had indulged here and there, but
more and more he wanted to do
more to them, any of them, all of them. "I am not doing it. Tell Three to do
it by himself. He will enjoy that."
They turned to look back at Three, who was standing in the doorway of the
washroom and staring at them with
avid curiosity. His hazel eyes were wide with consideration and his lovely
lips were parted. They both moaned in
reaction.
"We have got to get them out of here, before we all face the firing squad," Dr.
Jhenny moaned. More than
anything he wanted to push Three into that shower stall, watch the hot water
stream down the perfect body and
then lap it up from the silken flesh. Wanted to spread those long legs and suck
hard on the small hole buried
between the round, rip buttocks before fucking it. Fucking it hard and long
until the lust he was feeling exploded
inside that tight sheath. Or even better to make him hard and suck his first
orgasm out of him. He trembled with
that desire. Knew that Three wanted him to do just that. Knew that Three
would bend over to tempt him with
that ass and beg for it with his eyes. Or would spread his legs and pump his
cock eagerly into Dr. Jhenny's
mouth.
"Amen," the aide sighed. He made his way back toward Three, but was stopped by
Four who had a very
concerned look on his beautiful face. "What is it, Four?" He and the others
could only tell the clones apart due to
the colored bands fastened about the golden necks. Necks that would, no doubt,
be sweet to a questing tongue.
He moaned again and pulled his arm free of Four's hold.
"Three hasn't done anything. Why are you angry with him? He simply wants a
shower. No need to be angry."
Four looked mutinous and the aide was surprised. More and more Four was
challenging them—always for his
brothers never for himself.
"I am not angry with Three, Four. He is simply going to take a shower by
himself."
Four, obviously not appeased, followed the aide to the washroom and moved close
to Three, rubbing a hand up
and down Three's arm. Three smiled at Four and rubbed his face against
Four's.
"Oh God. You can't do that! Don't you understand? Can't you—stop, Three."
They wanted to rub each other all
over, the aide knew. Wanted to pump each others cock in tight, long hands and
drive him mad.
The two clones stopped and turned surprised looks at the white coat. His voice
was harsh and he was trembling.
Three patted Four's arm, sensing his upset.
"Shower now?" Three asked. He had only spoken a few times and though at first
the white coats had seemed
pleased, now his speaking seemed just to annoy them. This aide was doing
something with his mouth that made
his jaw muscles dance in a strange rhythm. He lifted a hand and touched these
dancing muscles. For a brief
moment the white coat leaned into the hand and then with a harsh sound he
slapped Three's hand away and then
shoved him backwards.
"Stop touching me, slut! God! Don't you care about anything but yourself?
All you want is to be touched! You
just want to be fucked until you're raw!"
Three withdrew until his back was pressed against the wall. He held his hand
in concern. The white coat had hurt
it. The lecture face was worse than ever before. Then Four did something that
made Three forget his pain. Four
hit the man. Such a thing! The hand that Four had used to hit the white coat
in the face had been folded and the
sound it made was impossibly loud in the small room. The white coat fell back
and landed on the floor with such
speed that Three actually leaned away from the wall to peer closer.
"You are bad!" Four accused. "You hurt Three."
Three stroked Four's shoulder, looked to see One and Two in the doorway, their
expressions mirroring his own.
Open mouthed and stunned.
White coats came running and the aide got to his feet. Three stepped forward,
not willing to let the white coat do
to Four what Four had done to him.
"What in the hell is going on?" Dr. Jhenny demanded.
"He hit me," the aide accused. "Four actually hit me!"
"He hurt Three," Four said and his voice was hard.
One looked at Three. "Three? Are you hurt?"
"Of course I didn't hurt the little slut! I simply wanted to get his hands off
me! Dr. Jhenny, may I be excused?"
Dr. Jhenny nodded. He stared after the aide as the other doctors tried to
soothe the clones. He saw that Four was
still defiant and he looked to Three. "Three, are you all right?"
Three nodded. Indeed his hand hurt no more and he was far more interested in
what Four had done. And what
was a slut? He was certain that he would know it if he were one. Wouldn't
he?
"You wanted a shower. You can take one by yourself," Dr. Jhenny said in a
falsely excited tone. "Isn't that
exciting? You know how don't you?"
Three shrugged. The mechanics of showering weren't exactly difficult. The
white coats did many things that
seemed easy to him. Then since Dr. Jhenny seemed to want a reply, he
nodded.
"Wonderful. You go ahead. Four, why don't you and One and Two go back to
practicing item recognition?" he
suggested, referring to the arduous task of teaching the clones the act of
matching what items went with the
English word associated with him. Though the clones were amazingly smart, they
still had some difficulty with
certain words.
"No, we will stay with Three while he showers," One said calmly. But that he
had defied a direct order was
something that Dr. Jhenny was very concerned about. Thank God they had only to
keep the clones for another half
day and then they would be shipped to their new home. Then it would be the man
who seemed to want to control
the world's responsibility to train them in obedience. He looked at their
identical, beautiful faces and wondered
what the man, Murdoch, would teach them first. He knew what he would teach
them first. Their lush lips were
made for only one thing.
He absently rubbed the aching erection he had had since being trapped with the
four sluts, imaging those lips
doing their work, spread wide and hungry.
Down the hall, unaware of what was going on in the other wing, Spender sat with
the Fox clone. He smiled at the
playfulness of the clone. So unlike the real Agent Mulder. Affectionate and
sweet. Little Fox would nearly
bounce about in pleasure when Spender came into the room. He kissed his face
and patted it like a child might do
to his father. Bounding away immediately to find something to bring to
Spender, something he was sure Spender
would find amazing. Just now, he had brought to Spender a snow globe. The
scene trapped behind the glass was
of a church, painstakingly decorated with Christmas festivity. The fake snow,
which drifted about when the globe
was shaken was resting at the bottom, like a blanket of snow.
Little Fox's eyes were sparkling as he showed it to Spender. "Look, look at
this." He shook the globe and
laughed with pure delight as the fake snow clouded the water and looked to be
falling in gentle torrents around the
tiny church. "It is snowing inside!"
"Yes, that is very nice," Spender smiled.
"That is a church. A house of prayer. Of reflection and remorse," Little Fox
informed him.
"Remorse? What do you know of remorse?"
"Remorse is what you feel when you have done something wrong, and a church is
where you go to find relief from
remorse," Little Fox said absently, shaking the globe again when it seemed the
snow might stop falling.
"Ah, yes. A powerful emotion, remorse," Spender agreed. He went to the desk
and sat. He spent hours there,
watching the beautiful creature explore the only room he had ever known. He
wondered what the sweet clone
would think when he was allowed out. What would he think of the outside?
Granted, Sacramento, in the area
where the base was situated wasn't exactly the garden of Eden, but there were
trees mixed in with the countless old
apartment buildings and small businesses. To the clone, it would be endlessly
fascinating. Maybe Spender would
let Alex show the clone the joy of outside. After-all it was for Alex that this
clone had been born.
He knew that Alex would appreciate this gift. A virgin to teach, one who would
be eager to please in all ways.
And the beauty of Fox Mulder, something to which Alex was apparently fatally
susceptible. Who couldn't find
pleasure in such a gift? The clone had returned with another treasure, a
book.
"You can read this! It has words in it and it tells a story," the clone
whispered, as if revealing a precious secret.
"Yes, isn't that something?"
The clone smiled, such nice lips over pristine teeth. "It is mine, but you can
have it if you want. Dr. Morson
gave it to me. He is my special friend." The clone nodded seriously.
"Special?" Spender asked calmly. He kept his tone calm despite the urge to
shout the question. The clone was
especially sensitive to changes in tone.
"Yes, he told me so."
"I see. And why is he special? Has he shown you anything special? Made you
feel anything special?"
The clone tilted his head a bit and after a moment he frowned. "Feel? No? He
gave me this book."
"Just the book?" Spender knew the clone wouldn't think anything wrong. The
damn fool doctors could molest
him and he would think it all part of everyday life.
"Oh and a shower. I learned how to wash myself. Can you smell the soap? It
is a blue bar."
"Yes, you smell quite clean." He stroked the clone's face and felt the young
man turn into the light touch. It was
certainly undeniable that the clones liked to be touched. "Fox, you need to
tell me if someone touches you. All
right? Either Dr. Morson or Dr. Namble." The clone nodded, but the intent
expression hid confusion. He had no
idea what Spender was talking about.
"It is only for another day or so, Fox. Your friend, Alex, will be here to
keep you company."
"Alex is my friend," the clone repeated happily. "I'll give him a book
too."
"You will give him much more than that, my little Fox," Spender chuckled. He
smiled as the clone looked about
the room suddenly as if wondering just what Alex would also want to take from
him. His eyes alighted upon
something on a shelf and he nibbled his lower lip anxiously.
"Will he want my dolphin?"
"Oh, I think he'll let you keep that treasure," Spender assured the clone.
Smiling darkly as he imagined watching
Alex, that wonderfully magnificent male, take the clone's virginity. What a
beautiful scene it would be. Alex, so
strong and sleek, so dangerously beautiful, parting the innocent's clone's legs
with ruthless determination.
Stretching him, tonguing him. Fingering him as he had Agent Mulder so
deliciously that morning not so long
ago.
Soon Alex would be here. So too, no doubt would Agent Mulder. But Mulder
would quickly be shipped to
Murdoch and Alex would remain. He knew that the agents had entered Skinner's
encampment in Salmon Falls the
previous morning and had already been successful in their endeavor. In fact,
in just a few, short hours if things
went as planned, Alex would be on his way.
Mulder stared at the new people who sat about the camp, thinking of his and
Alex's plan. Antonio had taken
Scully and the Gunmen off to San Francisco several hours ago, and he already
missed them. He and Alex and
Scully had found nothing in their trek except the Gunmen. He frowned. The
Gunmen had actually found the site
of an encampment that had to be where the Dorl had stayed, but it had been
abandoned the night before. At least
that was what Byers concluded as he had shifted his hand through the cold ash
in the rock-encircled fire pit. He
smiled, remembering Frohike's reaction to Alex's presence.
"Outstanding!" he crowed as he hurried to Alex's side. He forgot all fear and
gave Alex an awkward hug, slapping
him on the back enthusiastically. "Outstanding!"
Frohike smiled up at Alex and was rewarded with a graceful smile and a wink in
return.
Akael had moved close and stared at Frohike as if he expected Frohike might try
to take advantage of his closeness
with his charge. He growled softly in warning.
Frohike drew back and stared a bit nervously at the looming figure behind Alex.
"Good to see you, Krycek. We
were all outraged, I can tell you."
Byers nodded. "We were." He moved closer to Krycek, but kept a safe—madly
dashing away—distance from the
dangerous assassin.
Langly pushed his glasses up more snugly on his nose and said, "Absolutely
outraged, man."
The fact that the three men had crowded close to Alex made Akael move even
closer, so that his chest was
touching Alex's back. He was given a glare that he ignored.
"These men are not enemies, hairball," Alex sneered, borrowing Scully's name
for the big wolf.
"Do I make that decision, Alex," Akael replied, though he could sense the men
were harmless. He stood back and
let Alex interact with them. He could sense Garren's curiosity about his
mate's whereabouts and so he let his
leader see him through his eyes. Satisfied that Alex was surrounded by
friends, Garren's awareness retreated and
Akael's sight was his own again.
The pretty Fox was still antagonistic toward him, but since the prince smelled
so normal, Akael had no interest in
him. The little friends of Alex were far more interesting at the moment. Of
course Fox was still lovely to look
upon, but it was the scent of the changed ones that pleased his senses so.
Alex knelt by the fire and brought the ash to his nose. "Eucalyptus," he
said.
"What about eucalyptus, Alex," Fox asked, bending beside him.
"They were burning it. Here," he said, holding up the soft ash, "smell."
Fox smelled the scent and nodded, a frown of contemplation on his face. "Why?
Why eucalyptus?"
"It smells horrible," Akael informed them. He had scented the plant, but had
ignored it. Younger wolves hated
the scent. Why, no one had ever known. It wasn't a debilitating dislike, but
young wolves would generally steer
clear of eucalyptus groves. "Young wolves don't like it. I don't like it for
that matter." He didn't care that he told
these humans this. The tree was not a threat. Not even to young pups, though
bitches usually kept their litters far
away from anything that might upset them. He smiled then. Bitches were better
mothers than any human could
ever be, even though they avoided motherhood as often as possible. Once
mothers, a bitch would spend every
waking moment with her young, until they were fully capable of surviving on
their own. Even later, when her
young would roam and hunt, a bitch would fret for their safety.
Garren's mother had been positively brutal with any who dared approach her
young. Many wolves, even close
friends of the Garren, had died for presuming to try and see the young children
of their leader. The birth of a male
with the blue eyes of a Garren had been something to rejoice in, even as they
rejoiced in the birth of the entire
litter. This excitement had made some wolves careless in their eagerness to
see him. Even when the young Garren
was weaned, Dani had been completely ruthless. Not even the old Garren would
come near his children when they
were sightless and weak. No male wolf would come close at that delicate time.
Not even a Garren, assured of
loyalty, would approach his mate's litter then, though other bitches would
never presume to attack the Garren. No
human mother could ever compare to the sheer protective ferocity of a mother
wolf. Only when the precious litter
had begun to frolic about with each other and begun to change to human form for
short periods of time, had the
Garren been allowed to touch them. Though no other was allowed close for many
years after that. So was it with
the pack.
Lost in thought for a moment, he thought back to a day so many, many eons ago
when the young Garren had been
allowed out from his mother's constant attention for the first time at the
tender age of six years, allowed to go
hunting with his father. He, Akael, had been there of course, as he had been
since the birth of the litter. Though
in those early years he had stayed far away from his young charge, never
doubting that Dani, who loved him as a
friend, would have killed him without a second thought had he gotten too close
to her litter. He had been so
pleased to see the young, blonde pup with the blue eyes of the blood, running
at his father's side in human form in
the forests of the land now called Germany. The pup had been so easily
distracted, turning to follow a squirrel or
a deer, bounding along carefree as his father and Akael had patiently followed
him. It was such a sight! The
young Garren had had the energy of ten pups. Leaping up to catch a pheasant,
not caring when he missed, just
charging off after another beguiling scent.
After an unsuccessful bid to bring down a fawn, the pup had abruptly turned to
follow the scent of a rabbit and had
fallen into a deep pit. He had begun to howl immediately in pain and fright,
as if death itself was tearing at him.
Changing then and there into the shape of a wolf pup while his father and Akael
leapt into the pit to soothe him.
The Garren had gathered his howling son to him, unsure how to deal with this
sudden change in his fearless son.
It had been only a second before there was a familiar flash of silken fur and a
painful snapping of teeth that drove
the two males back with ferocity, drawing blood from them both. Dani had
changed to human form then to better
hold her pup, covering her child protectively with long, graceful arms. She
held the yowling pup close, soothing
him until he had changed back to a sobbing boy, tears streaking down his
already beautiful face.
"You aren't hurt, little one," she had crooned over and over, until the pup had
finally believed her and simply
buried his face into her long golden hair and quieted.
The old Garren had heard of his carelessness with his son for many a night
thereafter. "The young," he had been
lectured, "ought not be allowed to run wild. Falling into pits! Incredible!
Males!"
Akael smiled in memory. Only Dani had ever dared lecture the old Garren. The
Garren had grumbled to Akael
and his brother, Josia, indeed to all who were in shouting distance, that Dani
should not have even been out with
them. Following them, of all disrespectful things! That a father ought to
have some time alone with his son.
Ought to be trusted with his son's safety. "Who better to care for a son than
a father who loves him," the old
Garren had grumbled. Of course all had agreed with him, for who, save for his
mate, would dare not?
He was brought back to the present when that pup's mate moved away from the
camp listening to the female's
words. He shrugged off the memories of those long ago days and refocused his
attention on his contrary charge.
"They must have been warding off wolves," Scully mused. "Or attempting to."
"They know a lot of things we need to know," Mulder said impatiently. "We need
to talk to them dammit!"
Akael didn't comment.
Fox, sitting in the camp, remembered that the feeling of disappointment he had
felt at missing the chance to talk
to Baku had been softened by Alex's presence. The fact that he had Alex by his
side, even if it were only for a
few, precious hours, had made him eventually shrug at the Dorl's absence while
Scully had been left fuming.
"We should have been on this earlier," she had complained. "I should have gone
with you when you wanted to,
Mulder."
He shook his head at that. "Scully, I know we will find Baku. But, I think it
won't be until he wants us to see
him."
She had sighed then and turned her face up to the sky. "We'd better head back.
I am sure that no matter what we
say, Antonio will insist we move on. The only reason I will agree is that I am
sure that Baku has already go on to
San Francisco."
And so they had made their way back. But just shortly before reaching the camp,
Fox had held onto Alex and with
a hand gesture ushered the others on, indicating that he wanted some time alone
with Alex. Akael had stopped, of
course, but Fox ignored him for a moment in order to pull Alex close.
"What are we going to do?" he whispered. "I can't live with this. I don't
want to."
Alex kissed him then, devouring his mouth with a hunger that inflamed him.
"It seems like a hundred years since I held you last," Alex breathed then.
Their lips so close it was almost a kiss.
"I can't live separated from you, baby."
"What are we going to do then?" Fox repeated.
"I don't know," Alex admitted. He turned to stare at Akael. "Can you give us
some privacy?"
The big wolf sighed and walked away, stopping twenty yards from them,
concentrating on their surroundings.
Though nothing but wolves had dared to approach except the witches sent by
Murdoch, Akael was vigilant in
tracking everything near his charge.
"We need to—leave," Alex whispered into Fox's ear.
"They'll find us," Fox whispered back, shaking with the excitement of the idea.
He and Alex, alone and together.
"I have to be with you, Fox. Garren and Skinner have divided us for their own
purposes."
Fox stroked Alex's face. "I'm so sorry he hurt you, angel. I don't care how
horrible he feels. He sold you!"
Alex nuzzled Fox's neck. "You're the only one who matters to me, Fox." Even
as he said the words he knew that
he could never admit to Fox how much Skinner's dismissal of him had hurt and
how glad he was that Skinner was
feeling bad about his actions.
"Garren has—infected you with something, Alex," Fox hissed, trying to stay
quiet.
"I know," Alex admitted. "He told me."
Fox was surprised. "He did? Why? What did he have to gain by telling you?"
"Fox, it was pretty obvious that he did something."
"Why? Why was it obvious?" Fox demanded. His stomach clenched at the
possibilities.
Alex shook his head, "Baby, don't ask..."
"No," Fox insisted. "Why?"
"Because I forget everything. Like with Skinner when he first—took us. But
even more so than that."
"That is why you want him," Fox whispered. "It isn't that you love him,
Alex."
"I don't care what I am infected with, baby. I'll only ever love you." He
kissed Fox again, noticing for the first
time the medallion around Fox's neck. "Is this the thing that Baku sent with
me to give you?"
"Yeah," Fox murmured, distracted. "It makes us—any of us so-called changed
humans seem human. Scully and I
wore them. I am not sure if they work."
"They do," Alex informed him. "You definitely seem different. Here," he said
as he took the medallion off of
Fox, "let me see something." He set the medallion down and immediately Fox's
appeal assailed him. Making
him harder than the kisses had done. "God, yeah they work."
Fox grinned at the flush that stained Alex's beautiful face, the fire in the
jade eyes. "I should be insulted that you
didn't find the real me so appealing."
Alex grinned. "Oh, I do, baby, it is just that this change has made you even
more so..."
He was interrupted as Akael returned to their side, a look of surprise on his
face. "Fox, you smell right again.
What did you do?"
Alex glared at the wolf, who was looking at Fox as if he were some tender
morsel to be savored by a
discriminating gourmand.
Akael's gaze went directly to the medallion on the ground and bent to pick it
up, but Alex snatched it up first.
"It's his. Leave it alone."
Akael grumbled and looked at the pretty prince, tempted once more to taste his
skin. He turned abruptly and
resumed his former position of wary protection.
"Fox!" Alex breathed. "We could use this—did Scully take the other one?"
Fox shook his head, "No, she didn't. Baku gave me one and you one. She knew
this. Though I should have sent
one with her," he mused.
"No, you shouldn't have," Alex grinned. "It's perfect."
"Alex, she still is my partner. I do want her to be safe," Mulder scolded him,
ruining the effect by rubbing his
body against Alex sensuously.
"I do too, but with these," he looked warily at Akael and moved his lips
sinfully close to Fox's ear, making Fox
shiver in reaction, "we will be harder to track. I mean, wouldn't we? We
stand out now, but with these—maybe
not."
Fox's eyes lit up, as he understood. "Yes," he breathed. "We would, wouldn't
we?"
Alex smiled at the expression on Fox's face. The very idea of being free to
just be together eclipsed all other
concerns. "We could find someplace and hole up."
"Live together—alone," Fox sighed, kissing Alex's face.
"Never get out of bed."
"Mmm," Fox breathed, "I like the way you think. You and me and a bed..."
"A big bed," Alex corrected. "A very big bed."
"With leather sheets."
Alex drew back, the fantasy of lying with Fox amid soft, white sheets lurching
to a halt. "What? Leather sheets?"
Fox smiled, but said nothing.
"Leather sheets?" Alex said again. "You are a lot kinkier than I ever
suspected." He sounded mournful but his
hands were busy finding all the curves and hard planes on Fox's body that
pleased them both.
"Yeah, well, leather sheets, and you writhing on them has been one of my more
cherished fantasies," Fox said
before lapping at Alex's mouth with a hungry tongue.
"Oh yeah? Why am I writhing? What are you doing to me?" He could imagine all
the things that Fox could do to
make him writhe. He looked at the full lips and groaned. Fox could make him
writhe with just the touch of
those lips. He could see them on the tip of his cock, feathery kisses that Fox
loved to give, spreading open to
take him in that plump rimmed mouth. So hot! So sweet! He moaned softly. He
wanted to rip Fox's clothes off
right here, right now!
"Find me a set of leather sheets and I'll tell you," Fox promised huskily. He
pushed a lock of black hair out of
Alex's face, running his fingers through the silken strands, reveling in the
texture. His. His man. The thought,
the possessive feeling, made him harder than steel. "You're mine, Alex." His
voice, though tender, was firm. He
pressed his very insistent erection into Alex's and licked his lips feeling
that heavy flesh against his own.
"And you're mine, baby," Alex whispered. "God, I love you. I love everything
about you." He breathed in Fox's
scent. There was always some spice, some hint of spice in Fox's scent. He
brushed his lips against Fox's ear,
delighting in the expected shiver. He wanted to make Fox come undone, wanted
to do it right here, watch that
expression on Fox's face as he struggled to make it last. He moved his right
hand to the hard bulge in Fox's jeans
and rubbed it hard.
Fox squirmed and clutched tight to Alex's shirt.
"I want you," Alex whispered.
"Mmmm!"
He released Fox's wet erection and then his own so their flesh touched, and
they both hissed in reaction to that
touch. Alex moved his hand out of the way so he could press his own erection
into Fox's. The memory of
greeting Fox in such a way when he had returned from California hit him and he
was intoxicated by it. He
grasped Fox's buttocks in strong hands and moved Fox's hips into his in a slow
rhythm.
Fox fell into the rhythm with eagerness and he sought Alex's lips hungrily.
Their tongues slid together, so
intimate this kiss that it made the movements of their hungry bodies secondary.
Their eyes were open wide to see
the other. Forest and jade locked together and filled with adoration as their
lips parted with gasps of pleasure.
"Oh, Alex."
"Shh, let me see you."
Akael shifted uncomfortably, the smell of their arousal assaulting him. He
wasn't sure that the mate was allowed
to share himself with his lush pet, but that was something for Garren to
address, not him. Fox was making such
eager sounds that he was hard pressed to stay still and vigilant, but he did
just that, scanning the surrounding area
for danger. He caught sight of other wolves moving closer in response to the
pet's arousal and he growled low and
deep in warning. The young wolves moved back immediately until they were out
of scent range.
"Make me come, angel," Fox husked desperately, so close already that the
friction was nearly intolerable.
"Yeah, I'll make you come," Alex breathed. "Watching you will make me
come."
"Watch me, " Fox begged. "Touch me."
Alex moved his hips harder, drowning in the heat of Fox's body. The friction
was so intense that his own orgasm
was rushing dangerously close. He panted desperately and squeezed Fox's ass
demandingly. "Come on, baby,
come for me. Come for me before I do."
Fox shuddered and his eyes lost all focus, biting his lips reflexively as his
semen splashed up between them. He
cried out, a desperate, hungry sound that sent Alex irrevocably over the edge,
his semen mingling once more with
Fox's in the ultimate embrace.
Akael studiously ignored the two mating humans and waited while they whispered
softly to each other. He let
them clean themselves of the evidence of their mating before approaching with
determination. "Alex, we need to
continue on. Garren wants you back in the camp," Akael interrupted them.
Two sets of beautiful eyes glared at the large wolf, but his expression brooked
no argument. "Time with your Fox
will be given to you again. We go now. Garren has commanded me."
Fox held Alex close, "Tell your Garren to go fuck himself." The words were
barely out of his mouth before Fox
found himself dangling in the air, Akael's left hand wrapped in the collar of
his sweater. His eyes met the burning
amber of the wolf's. Fury burned there, but control too, such deadly control.
He felt the strength in that one hand
holding him aloft as if he weighed nothing. So damn strong. How could he or
Alex fight such things?
"You are not to be harmed, prince, but you will never speak so of my Garren
again," Akael barked. He set the
pretty, furious male down, pausing not at all to appreciate the beauty of that
face, just as Alex leapt to Fox's
defense. Akael had to grab Alex and hold him still for a few moments while the
cat seemed to want to tear him
apart. Fox attacked him for holding Alex and he wanted to howl with
frustration. He had to be careful not to
harm either of them and so his frustration was doubled. It didn't take much to
get the two facing each other and
held still, he could scent their fury so he made his voice deliberately calm.
"Do you wish to stay like this, keep
struggling. Do you wish to walk back to the camp with some measure of dignity,
behave."
After only a few moments they both stilled, they had become distracted by one
another. Starting to rub their faces
together in some type of soothing gesture, Akael assumed. He sighed. Changed
humans! They were foretold to
be essentially sexual, but this was getting him nowhere. He could still scent
the anger the mate felt over his
manhandling of Fox. But in truth any other human, changed or no, would be dead
for his disrespect. No member
of the pack would have stood for it. It was enough to make him growl in anger.
The words still burned him. To
tell his Garren to go fuck himself? What gall, what stupidity! When he
decided the two were ready to behave
properly, he released them and stood back, gesturing toward the camp in a
blatant command for the two to move.
Fox looked at Alex and the message within that forest gaze was clear, speaking
volumes.
"Soon!" that gaze said.
Alex got the silent message and he nodded in complete agreement. He took Fox's
hand and they walked away
from Akael without any of the intimate teasing they had enjoyed for a few
moments lingering in their demeanor.
Akael followed with a shake of his head, his dark, gray-streaked hair, fell
about his broad shoulders in a curtain.
Had any wolf ever had to deal with such things? Certainly only if they took a
human mate. And yes, that had
happened, mostly female wolves who could not breed with humans and so would
sometimes prefer a human male
to a wolf male. But a mate was one thing. A wolf would love a mate and so
their antics might not so enrage one.
To handle another's mate was quite another. And then that that mate was the
Garren's own made things even more
frustrating. He had to admit that he was glad that Josia and Emil had both
arrived.
Let them share in this frustration, Akael decided. Of course Emil would be
sorely pressed to maintain control of
his natural inclination to kill. He was a wolf who could not abide humans and
often killed them simply for the
pleasure of the pain he inflicted. Of course any such action here with the
powerful ascendant would bode ill for
them all. And should he show Garren's mate anything other than protective
respect, Garren would kill him. Josia
was another matter. He, like the old Garren, was wont to think things through,
but he too had little love for
humans. These thoughts made him sigh again, hoping that there would be no
trouble around Alex. The little cat
was trouble enough on his own. The hazel eyes of the lovely Fox turned back to
glare at him and Akael raised a
brow in reply. What a pretty little piece. Perhaps even Emil would be able to
tolerate this one. His eyes trailed
down the trim back, nicely shaped in a long V. Slender and graceful,
lithely-muscled. And the round ass. A true
temptation. He was glad he had age to temper his emotions, or he would be
sorely tempted to take the pretty
away for himself.
He might have done, age or not, had he not a new charge to protect. He looked
to the mate and shook his head.
Punishment! That was the only way to tame this one. He would continue to
charge into dangerous situations
until he learned to obey. Had not Dani and the old Garren both stood by while
Akael had punished the young
Garren for disobeying Akael and putting himself in danger? Yes, they had. And
so too could Garren watch his
mate be punished to insure his protection. His mind made up to tell his Garren
just that, Akael brooded on how
to best convince the pup to allow it.
Washington D.C.
Murdoch sent all his pets away from him. The changed humans were all below in
their gilded cages. His
fox-a-likes were all down in lower apartments, safe from his rage. He had
given the order to have his pets placed
away from him after the first attacks of the wolf pack had started in the
outskirts of his territories. There had even
been several closer to him. Too close.
The wolves were systematically killing those loyal to him, humans and hunters
alike. Their ferocity was such,
their targets so specific, that it could only mean one thing. Garren had
commanded it. No other thing could have
the pack picking off his supporters so efficiently. Pure bloods were being
brought down as well and Murdoch was
enraged. His faithful servants deserved to live well for the rest of their
lives. To live long in the highest of
positions. Not to be torn apart by Garren's pack! And torn apart they were.
There was nothing left of these loyal
men and women but small, crimson chunks. Nothing left of hunters either,
trolls and schells and spider alike
devoured and sent into hiding. And other hunters too, some that had at least
killed some of the wolves before
being overwhelmed and ripped apart.
To say he was furious would be to put a human name to his emotion. Nothing had
prepared him for this. The
world round his ascendants, the ones who cleaved to him, found themselves in
battles with the pack. Some
weren't strong enough to deal the pack the damage that would effect them. He
knew too that the bitches had been
commanded to breed.
This alone threw him off balance. Female wolves hated to breed, hated to
become mothers as the state would
consume them for years. But when they were commanded by their Garren, every
bitch would breed, mated or no.
It spoke volumes of Garren's intentions. So far the attacks had been focussed
only on Murdoch's allies and not an
all out war. But if the bitches were breeding then Garren expected a fight, a
long fight.
He knew the reason for this unprecedented betrayal. Garren had aligned with
another! Ever since the first true
Garren had come to him in friendship, the pack had essentially been his to
control. That long ago Garren had been
elevated by Murdoch! The treachery in this betrayal by Garren made him want to
tear open the bodies of all those
around him. Before he, Murdoch, had gifted that first Garren with the power of
connecting to every wolf the
world round, the pack had been fractured, unable to communicate easily. The
unifying power had enabled the first
Garren to bring the pack together, communicating, seeing everything that any
wolf experienced. More
importantly, he had gained the ability to command from any distance. Pack
animals desired a leader, clung to
one. And it had been easier to do since that long ago wolf had borne the rare
trait of the blue eyes, which had
always been respected by the entire pack. Not only had he the blue eyes but
also had been born with them. Those
of the blood always developed the blue eyes, but unless they were born with
those eyes, they could not pass the
trait to a male pup.
They could sire only one such pup.
The difference between being born with the blue eyes and developing them later
was in perception only.
Essentially all blue-eyed wolves were superior in intelligence during the
lupine part of their life and were,
consequently, always leaders. There was the rare gold topaz-eyed wolf that
retained some intelligence when
changed but they too relied on the blue-eyed wolves for direction. When
Murdoch had gifted that first Garren with
the ability to communicate with wolves the world round, he had made the whole
pack immeasurably stronger.
Their numbers had begun to increase along with their new ability to outwit
mankind. For with the direction of
this Garren, this ultimate alpha wolf, even changed wolves could act with
cunning.
Thus had begun the tradition of Garren's siring pups until a male pup had been
born with blue eyes. That pup
would then, in the fullness of time, become the next Garren. Because only one
Garren could be born at a time, the
pack was understandably fiercely protective and mortally loyal to him.
The Garren was the heart and soul of the pack.
Their only way of maintaining unity.
Their only hope for the future.
It had been his gift! Inherited by every Garren from that first one on. Given
to help him not the damned
wolves! Every wolf had called him master because the Garren's had always
called him master. Now this impudent
upstart decided to go against him? Because of one changed human? His fingers
dug into his hand until blood
streamed down onto the expensive carpeting, creating a crimson puddle on the
champagne fabric. Uncaring, he
stared out over his city. Everything was lit. He could see the beauties
wandering down below in the cool
morning. Such power he had now that he could hear every thought, smell every
creature and kill with just a
thought from miles away. He could control his followers around the world from
this very room! He controlled all
the hunters from the dark places and used them to batter at his weaker enemies.
Those brothers of the opening.
He should have the world by now. But Skinner and others like him played the
game well. Still, it would have
only been a matter of time before all of the ascendants fell. The weaker first
and then the strong. The pack would
have made this process of control quicker. They would be already defeating
ascendants who defied him. They
would be tearing their way through his enemies. Not his allies.
The fullness of the treachery astounded him. In every existence he had been
cared for by a Garren! Not some other
lowly wolf, but a Garren! The current Garren had been with him for dozens of
his human lifetimes. Never once
questioning him. Never once defying him. The father of the young Garren would
have been appalled at his son's
current defiance. It had been the purpose of this new world, this throwing off
of the human control of the planet,
the release of all the hunters from the dark places, that had united Murdoch
with that first Garren! And now that
he had served his purpose, the pack discarded him! For a human!
To reverse the gift would take all of his power to do or he would strip the
upstart of the gift here and now. Let the
pack fall into chaos. But if he lost his power, even if only temporarily,
Skinner could crush him as easily as he
could the weakest of humans. However, there were other ways to make the Garren
pay. It might cost him greatly
in a war with the pack, but this betrayal would not be forgotten. Or forgiven.
He would respond in kind. The
pack had betrayed him. He would betray the pack.
He thought of what he would do and slowly a smile began to curve over his face.
Yes. It was just. In fact, he
thought it a perfect balance. He could take back his gift after all. For only
a male born with the blue eyes received
his original gift. He had been most specific when he had first gifted it. Oh
yes he had. And only a male born
with blue eyes could sire another. Garren had yet to sire any offspring.
Should Garren die before he sired a son
born with blue eyes, the gift would die with him. And the pack would be
scattered once more.
Perfect.
There was only one way to kill a wolf of Garren's strength.
Feeling more himself, he went out to the balcony and leaned against the stone
railing. Now, how to do it?
He chuckled then with a delicious sense of irony.
If a human could cause a Garren to betray him, the one true ascendant, then
that human could certainly be made to
help that ascendant in his revenge.
"It will be you, Alex, who will be my weapon. My beautiful talon of justice."
He went inward then, to the
darkness of thought and searched out his weapon. Searched out those who
thought of Alex. What he found made
him laugh. "Too easy," he whispered maliciously. Already a human was
attempting to separate Garren from his
mate, though that human had no idea what hell he would bring down upon himself
for such a thing. He went to
those this human had sent to aid in the foolhardy plan and he carefully changed
the plan to one of his liking. The
soldiers this foolish human had sent would never question the new plan. For
Murdoch could always control evil
men more easily than those who clung to goodness. They would simply
incorporate his new directions as if they
had been their original orders.
There was nothing to do but wait.
Soon.
Justice would be served.
Salmon Falls, CA
There were so many new people that Mulder was hard pressed to watch them all.
There was a group of humans
who had come to Skinner to beg travel with him. And there were two more
wolves. Old by the looks of them,
but who could tell? Garren had met him and Alex and Akael with a smile, which
totally ignored Alex's and Fox's
glares.
"Come, Cat, I want you to meet two more of your protectors."
Alex had begun to curse then and Fox had had to smile. He had seen Alex in
action and knew that his lover
would hate the very idea of having a nursemaid. His smile faded when he saw
the possessive way Garren was
touching Alex. It was in every gesture, this possessiveness. From the way he
had approached Akael first and then
stroked Alex's arm when they had first come into camp. Alex had thrown off the
arm time and time again while
Garren just chuckled.
"Did you not enjoy your time with Fox?"
Mulder thought back on that question, how there was a threat implicit within
it. If Alex didn't behave then there
would be no more time for the two of them to be together. Alex had instantly
understood and moved off with
Garren with one, unreadable look at Fox. Those brilliant jade eyes were so
guarded but Fox knew what he was
feeling.
Trapped.
Owned.
How Mulder himself felt right now. Skinner stood beside him quietly. He
raised his eyes to him, the brown
eyes staring into his seemed so filled with concern. But right at this moment
Mulder just didn't care. He broke
the gaze and looked again toward Alex. He was looking bored, extremely bored
as the two new wolves spoke to
him. It didn't look as if he were paying attention at all. That beautiful
face was expressionless, but Mulder
wanted suddenly to wrap him in his arms and tell him that he loved him. Would
always love him.
"You're tired, Fox. Why don't you sleep? Soon we'll be leaving for San
Francisco. I can wake you then," Skinner
said gently, running a hand through Fox's hair. The idea of sleep brought
immediately the image of Murdoch. In
his dreams, taking him. He felt himself stir at the thought and he
straightened in shock.
"What? What is, baby?" Skinner asked, kneeling beside Fox and taking his face
between strong hands.
Mulder shook his head, but he couldn't stop thinking of the sensations Murdoch
made him feel. He tried to focus
on the swing of the whip. On the sling and the pain and humiliation he felt
there, but those thoughts only served
to arouse him further. He actually longed to be spread out in that web-like
sling, spread tight and hard apart,
licked, suckled, beaten and fucked. He felt the need rise like an acid gorge
in his stomach, poisonous and deadly
to his sanity. He knew all he had to do was sleep and Murdoch would take him
in the darkness.
It was madness.
It was intolerable, even for a moment, even for one breath.
He stood abruptly and clenched his fists. "No. No I don't want to sleep."
"Fox..."
"No!" Mulder knew his voice was too loud, could feel the eyes of the new
people in the camp fall to him, could
feel the eyes of the wolves on him as well. He looked at his fists. "No, I
don't want to go to sleep. Leave it
alone, Walter," he said grimly.
"Fox, you are exhausted! You are upset and you need to just rest."
"Rest?" He looked into the strong face. "Rest is not going to help how I
feel, Walter."
Skinner sighed and resolutely nodded. He didn't want to push Fox too much.
"Okay. Just calm down." Fox
was wound so tight. A way to relax him came to mind. A way to get Fox to
forget everything for a few hours.
A way to make Fox purr with pleasure instead of this tension. Fox had always
been high-strung, like a
Thoroughbred horse stabled with plow horses, eager to break away and be given
his head. He drew the tense body
close and pressed his lips softly to Fox's forehead.
"Calm down," he repeated deliberately feeling Fox respond to his command. He
kissed the lush lips then stroking
the sweet flesh lightly with his tongue he tasted him. Pressing his tongue
forward with wet intent between the
full lips he breathed in Fox's breath, savoring it, wanting more.
Fox shivered. Walter's touch soothing him and making him forget Murdoch for a
moment.
"What's wrong with him?"
Walter raised his head to see Alex next to them. The eyes that were heavily
guarded by black fringe were burning.
Like jewels, Skinner thought. Like beautiful jewels buried in a wild jungle,
caught by radiant light. Mulder
didn't respond to Alex's voice and Skinner smiled at Alex. "He's tired."
Alex glared at Skinner's words. Fox didn't look tired he looked dazed. "What
are you doing to him!" he
demanded. He reached for Fox but Garren was there holding him back.
"Let Skinner deal with Fox, Cat. He belongs to Skinner."
Alex's eyes widened in fury. "You are both in-fucking-sane! Both of you! Fox
is not his. I am not yours!
I want to know what is wrong with him." He struggled against Garren's hold.
"I'm warning you, Garren! Let me
go."
Mulder held his hand out to Alex and spoke clearly, "Calm down, Alex. I am
just tired. And I think I should
sleep."
Alex heard the voice, heard the tonelessness in it and glared again at Skinner
who was looking back at him with
certain remorse. He could see how Skinner hated that Garren held him. Fuck
him!
"I'll go with you," Alex finally said. "That is if it is okay with you two!"
he hissed.
"I never wanted you separated from Fox, Alex," Skinner sighed. "Go with
him."
"No," Garren said firmly. "He will not be rewarded for such defiance."
Skinner stood rigid for a moment before saying, "They will never accept being
separated, Garren. Let them
comfort each other. It can only help you."
"Do you tell me how to deal with my mate?" Garren asked but there was no heat
in the question. Alex was still
now, but he could scent the fury in his mate. He wanted to please him, but to
give in always would surely only
make Alex more difficult. If such a thing were even possible.
"I only make a suggestion. They need each other, Garren. As we need them."
Garren sighed and released Alex only to be rewarded by another glare by those
gemlike eyes. Fox's eyes were a
calm rebuke, his lush lips pressed tight as if waiting to be teased apart. He
couldn't blame his mate or any other
for wanting to dally there. Such a beautiful creature. But, he too was a
handful. Perhaps in a different way than
his spitting cat, but a handful no less. But what a delicious handful for all
that.
"Go then, mate. But stay only until he sleeps."
Fox bristled at the fact that they all were acting as if he couldn't even take
a nap alone. He didn't voice his anger
for fear that Alex would then be kept from coming with him. They needed time
alone to plan. He settled for an
expression he was certain would give full display of his ire.
Skinner noted the sulky pout on Fox's face and knew the reason for its
existence on that face. Whatever its reason
it held all three men captive for a second. He saw Garren's eyes narrow with
appreciation and he abruptly cleared
his throat, catching Garren's gaze and giving him a warning glare for his
sudden interest in Fox.
Alex simply moved toward Fox and without a word he wrapped an arm about Fox's
waist. "Let's go, baby."
"Just so you know that I don't need a babysitter," Fox said quietly.
Alex was taken aback for a moment and then he saw the smile in Fox's eyes and
he chuckled softly, not wanting
to include Skinner or Garren in this moment. "I am just taking advantage of
the situation," he whispered and was
happy to see Fox smile fully. Despite his words, he was worried. What had
caused Fox to shout at Skinner? It
hadn't been about him, he knew instinctively. Something else.
When they entered the big tent they had last slept together in, Alex sat down
and waited for Fox to speak first.
Fox was standing over him, distracted. There was such a lovely look of
confusion on his face that it made Alex
want to cuddle him close and taste every inch of him, but he knew that Fox was
thinking about something that
worried him. The way Fox was nibbling his lower lip, the way he had seemed to
forget that he and Alex were
alone, pointed to it.
"Alex?" Fox asked hesitantly.
"Yeah? What is it, baby? Talk to me." Alex reached up and took Fox's hand
drawing him down beside him.
They fit together perfectly, he thought as he waited for Fox to continue.
"Those witches, they did something to me—something to my mind," Fox
shuddered. He knew they had put
some sort of spell on him. At least that was what he desperately hoping they
had done. That it was some sort of
enchantment. If not, he was well and truly insane. Without Skinner's calming
presence, his lust for Murdoch was
rising again. He could feel the need as a tangible presence. He wanted to be
stroked and pawed and licked and
pounded. Such was the need that he knew that if he had to deal with it long he
would be calling out to Murdoch,
begging him to claim him.
And if that happened, if Murdoch came to take him, he might as well be dead.
"They did something, Alex."
Alex stiffened and automatically drew his arms tight about Fox's torso drawing
close to him. "What do you
mean? What are you saying?"
"I didn't say anything earlier, because I thought—I thought they had been
stopped in time. I thought they were
trying to bring me to Murdoch. I saw him, Alex."
"Murdoch?"
"Yes. I—the point is I didn't really understand what they were doing. I
think I do now." Fox sighed then and
stared at Alex's face, finding succor in the beauty and strength there. What
would he do without Alex? Why
would he want to go on?
"What? What did they do?"
"I think they—some kind of spell maybe—I don't know really! I mean I have
only rarely heard of witches who
lived in water! How do I know what they can do?"
That look was back. Utter concentration, Fox Mulder style.
"What kind of spell?" He was more worried than he showed. His voice was calm,
his hand steady in its slow rub
against Fox's ribs. He felt Fox move into him in response to the stroking and
he had to steady himself from
taking a more interesting approach to touching Fox's fantastic body.
"I think they are making—trying to make—tried to make me want Murdoch," Fox
whispered. He stared up at the
top of the tent, mapping visually the smooth dome without any real interest.
This couldn't be real. He couldn't
handle wanting that man—that thing. But he did. He burned with it.
"What?"
Alex's voice was so nearly insulted sounding that Fox had to smile. Though it
was a small smile. "You heard
me."
"How do you know?"
Fox turned to look at Alex's face once more, his expression clear. He tilted
his head and raised both brows as if to
say, "Can't you guess?"
Alex flushed angrily. "You've started wanting—you do?"
"I don't want him, Alex!" Fox protested, knowing he was lying. God how he
wanted him! His strength and
cruelty and such perfect attention to the minutia of sensation was enough to
make Fox want to slide desperately
against Alex to relieve the building pressure. Murdoch's great knowledge of
the male body and what drove it crazy
with molten lust was something he craved. "I hate him! What he did to me,
Alex. Like I was an animal—some
feral animal that he had no need to treat well. He tied me up! He beat me!
He raped me..." His voice trailed off
as he was lost in the memories, the terrible, humiliating, incredibly hot
memories. He knew the new feelings of
those indecent things weren't his. Were in fact some malicious seed planted by
the three witches. He clung to that
now like the proverbial lifeline.
"Oh God, Alex! What he did—I can't stand to think about it. There were so
many people there," he whispered.
His voice had a tremble to it that Alex had never heard. Was horrified to hear
it now. He made a small sound of
distress in response, totally unprepared for this. He could only hold onto his
baby with strong arms and listen to
the painful memory tear through Fox.
"I wanted to know where you were," Fox continued, feeling the need to lance
this wound. He had to tell Alex. If
he said the words, perhaps Alex could help him understand it. Deal with these
new feelings. "I—Alex, the only
thing I could think of was you." He stroked Alex's face then, soothing himself
with the mere touching. "I
thought they would kill you. Then—then I—he had me strapped to the sling.
God, Alex. God!"
"It's okay, Fox, you don't have to..."
"But I do. I do, Alex. I do. Because what I am feeling now—it's making me
sick! You have to know. You
have to tell me that it can't be possible to want this! I'm burning up with
it, Alex."
"You already know you don't want it, baby! You already know. What is the
first thing you told me? You said
that the witches were in your mind right? Casting some spell?"
Fox nodded.
"Then, baby, you already know." Alex kissed Fox's face on that delicate
juncture of ear and cheek. "Don't do this
to yourself."
"I need to. I need to tell you, Alex. Please—please..."
Alex jerked at the pleading tone, the very nearly undone sound of Fox's voice.
"Oh, baby, please don't say please!
You know I would give you anything! You don't have to beg me! I'll listen and
hold you and love you. I just
hate to hear you in pain."
"Alex," Fox hissed, almost unable to say what he knew he must, what he knew he
despised about himself at that
moment in time when he was open and vulnerable to Murdoch. "I screamed—I
begged him and anyone who could
hear me to stop—to help me! God, Alex! I begged him! Why did I do that?
Why did I give him the
satisfaction?"
Alex had never heard anything, which so rocked him, which made him so
physically ill. Not even when Fox had
been taken by the vampire, not even when he had been returned with no recall of
the love they shared. He felt
physical pain. It was a pain that had no voice, had no cessation. He could
only make a guttural sound of agony.
"I was stripped, spread out and hung upside down—or nearly upside down—knowing he was behind me—and
there were so many people wanting to watch. He whipped me first between—between my buttocks." The word
buttocks had seemed to come out like a surprise. Like Mulder himself could not
believe what he had to say. That
word, that one word, that admission made him shudder. "There was a strap on my
neck and he held it tight—like
an animal, like I was an animal. And when he raped me—I couldn't stop him."
A strangled sob tore from Fox.
"If he—if I am ever with him again—I'll die. I know it."
Alex felt as if he could no longer breathe. How can you hear something like
that and do nothing? There was
nothing in his past that prepared him for this absolute helplessness. Fox's
moan of anguish and the shaking of his
body were a prelude to the sudden sobs that shook him. Alex's groan was a
wordless fugue for Fox's pain.
"And now I feel so—Alex, I want that—I don't and I do! I can't feel like
this. Not for a minute. I don't know
how to stop, but when I think of being with him—I burn. Now. Right now, I am
burning. I want to call to him!
To beg to be raped! What is wrong with me? Why can't I fight it? Help me!
Help m-me!"
There was a whispered desperation in his voice. A whisper that shrouded an
unborn scream.
"I'm here, baby. I'm here," Alex groaned, desperately kissing Fox's wet
face.
"I want him and I know it's crazy! I c-can't feel this way."
"Baby, you don't feel that way! It's a lie!" He felt the tears on his own
face as Fox seemed to struggle to breathe.
"It isn't you. Use that brilliant mind of yours. Fight it, Fox. God, I love
you, baby. I love you! I love you!"
Fox heard him, knew what Alex was saying was true. More, he heard the pain in
Alex's voice and recoiled from
it. Everything in him struggled to contain the emotions that were tearing him
apart so that he could stop Alex
from hurting. He stroked Alex's arm and pulled closer to him, ignoring the
sudden, sharp pain in his nipples from
the tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Alex. Please don't—be upset."
Alex buried his face in Fox's neck and for the first time in his adult life, he
sobbed. Nothing like his sorrow in
the shower in Fort Bragg, but sobs that racked him. He could not protect Fox!
And that knowledge was a death
for him. An agonizing certainty that he was nothing. That he had no way of
even helping Fox deal with his pain
because he had spent his life as a killer and so was reduced to repeating 'I
love you' as if it were a talisman to ward
off not only evil, but pain.
Suddenly it was Fox who was comforting Alex and even that too was painful for
Alex. Every soft word of
comfort from his shaking lover drove the stake of self-recrimination deeper.
Every stroking touch filled with so
much love, humbled him as nothing could ever have humbled him. His only
recourse was to hold tight to Fox
and repeat his vow of love over and over in a voice that sounded, even to
himself, lost.
"We'll make it, Angel. My Angel," Fox whispered, hating what he had done to
Alex. Hating himself for
burdening Alex when Alex had endured so much already. "My beautiful angel."
Outside the tent Akael and Emil paced restlessly, small whines coming from
their throats as they scented the
mate's pain. Had it been physical they would have torn into the tent and torn
apart the cause, but with this
emotional pain only the Garren could go to his mate. Josia joined them and his
blue eyes were narrowed with
concern.
"What causes this pain?" he asked growling.
Akael shook his head indicating he did not know. "The prince feels pain too.
Perhaps they deal with their new
state."
Josia shook his head and began to pace, agitated. When Skinner and Garren
approached they were struck by the
three wolves intent restlessness.
"The mate is in pain," Emil growled suddenly, his hands changing to claws
uselessly with no enemy to shred.
Garren and Skinner both hurried forward, Garren starting to change even as he
began to scent that the pain was not
physical. Still he moved forward and nearly came undone when Skinner grabbed
his arm. So intent on the mate
were the three guardians that they missed the hand on their Garren's arm.
"They need time, Garren," Skinner said softly. "Let them deal with this. You
can't intrude or you'll worsen their
pain."
Garren felt the change coming, wanting to tear at Skinner for attempting to
interfere with his care for his mate.
The pain he scented coming from Alex was maddening. But his mind recognized
the scent of Fox's pain as well.
He knew Skinner spoke true. Still it was maddening.
"I can't stand his pain, Skinner," he husked. "I can't. My mate's pain
becomes my own. I cannot allow it."
"Then give him up," Skinner suggested. "Their pain is their separation."
Garren snarled at him and yet said nothing for a moment. "Take your hand off
me, Ascendant!"
Those words focussed the attention of the three ancient wolves and their
agitation was ripped away to be replaced
by animal fury. They moved forward with sudden, choreographed stalking. The
mate's pain was forgotten. There
was never to be any touching of the Garren. They were stalled in their
approach by a look from Garren and though
they stopped in their tracks all three changed in response to the threat to
their Garren.
Skinner raised his brow at the approaching wolves but turned back to Garren.
"I can feel their thoughts, Garren.
You can only sense the emotion, not the cause. I want what you want. For them
to be happy."
Garren stared at him, considering his words. He had been listening to an
ascendant all his life. They did know the
hearts and souls of those around them. He could not help his mate if he didn't
understand him. And helping his
mate was more important than pride or position or anything else that had come
before. His being the Garren was
his responsibility to the pack, but to confuse pride and the anger he felt at
being touched or told what to do by a
relative stranger took less priority than his mate's well-being.
"What do you think I should do? I cannot bear his pain and I cannot release
him. His pain seems more to me
than mere separation from Fox. They are not separated. What do you see,
Ascendant? Prove your worth to me
now."
Skinner knew what he was asking and so he searched the two male's thoughts. He
frowned darkly then, glaring at
Garren. "Your old master is the cause of their pain. Fox remembers and Alex
regrets." But there was more. He
frowned even darker still. "And he still toys with Fox," he added with a
furious bark.
Garren was expressionless as Skinner pushed forward. He passed the three
changed wolves with a red-eyed
warning and entered the tent. It was Fox who stared up at him with moist eyes,
Alex's face was buried in Fox's
neck; both were shuddering.
"This isn't a good time," Fox said quietly.
His words startled Alex who hadn't even heard Skinner enter. He raised his
eyes to the big man and Skinner was
startled by the shock on Alex's face.
"I'm not even me anymore," Alex whispered to himself. He heard Fox whisper
something to him, but he just
shook his head. He lay there like some useless whore. Wouldn't Spender be
laughing his ass off if he could see
his assassin now! He knew that most of his lack of awareness was the knowledge
that there were too many
powerful men outside who would not let anything in that would endanger him or
Fox, but that knowledge didn't
give him succor. He had lost his edge. For someone who had survived so long
on his intelligence and ability
alone, there was no release from excuses, no matter what their logic. He felt
himself drawn into Skinner's embrace
and wanted to pull away, to prove to Skinner that he didn't need him, but felt
himself turn into the strong embrace
instead.
Skinner held Alex with mixed emotions. He wanted to be able to hold him
forever, not just to comfort him. He
smelled the mint that always seemed to cling to the assassin and bent his face
to bury it in Alex's hair, staring at
Fox over the top of Alex's head. He deliberately sent them calming emotions
while he stroked Alex's back.
"You are yourself, Alex. You are. You are yourself in incredible situations.
You haven't changed, Alex, your
environment has. You cannot change it." He raised a hand to stroke Fox' face,
wanting desperately to comfort
him as well, but certain that Fox would never allow himself to be comforted
while Alex was in pain. In that way,
he was stronger than Alex. He knew too, though, that Alex would not
consciously leave Fox to his own pain.
But to be a man like Alex, someone so incredibly well prepared for anything
life threw at him, to suddenly be as
near to helpless as a person can be, was devastating. And he could sense too,
that Alex was more hurt than even
he wanted to admit to himself by Skinner giving him to Garren like some pretty
prize.
"You need to remember how to adapt. That has always been your real strength,
Alex. Not your abilities. Your
ability to change with the situation. You know I speak the truth. Find your
strength in this situation, my
assassin."
Alex was calming, though a part of him knew that Skinner was making him calm
with some use of his power.
Still his words struck a chord of truth. To change with the situation was
always something that had separated him
from the dead men who failed around him. But he had never had to doubt that he
could take care of himself or
someone he loved. Though in truth, he had never loved before Fox.
Skinner heard Alex's thoughts and bent his lips to Alex's ear. "And too, the
newness of your love makes you
vulnerable to anything. Be easy, Alex. Let yourself change again. Take this
chance to accept things, for they will
never be as they once were. I wish I could keep you with me for always. I
know you will never understand how
much I hate the thought of giving you away, but don't let that betrayal hurt
you any more. You will never be
without Fox. Not as long as I live. And, Alex, I will never let anyone hurt
you. I will take you from Garren and
damn the world if he ever hurts you." Alex's eyes raised to his and there was
doubt there, but there was a reservoir
of hope there too.
Walter squeezed Alex tight for another, poignant moment before he released him
to attend to Fox. He traced his
right index finger down Fox's face, lightly grazing the mole that made his face
almost too beautiful with its
seductive placement one stroke away from the lush lips. "I know what you are
feeling, Fox. Let me take their
enchantment away from you. You know in your heart how you feel about Murdoch,
about what he did to you.
Follow your heart now, Fox. Don't believe I'll ever let you feel that way."
He drew a suddenly still and silent
Fox to him.
He was surprised at how much it took for him to find the witches suggestions
and even more strength to draw
them out. Far more powerful than Mikhail's sorcery, these witches had woven a
tangle of emotions for Fox.
Despite the energy that this struggle took, Skinner remained still, holding Fox
closely, tenderly, stroking his back
rhythmically as he called upon his power to cleanse Fox of the vile entrapments
of the witches.
When it was done Fox was sleeping in his arms. He was reluctant to release his
precious burden. He kissed Fox's
face and lips before laying him down gently. "It's done," he whispered to
Alex.
"You undid the spell? Whatever those witches did?" Alex whispered too, not
looking at Skinner for a moment as
he spoke. His eyes stayed locked on Fox, looking at the slightly bruised look
under his closed eyes. There was
such vulnerability in that flesh, slightly purple from lack of sleep and
emotional strain. He reached out a hand and
carefully touched the soft flesh under Fox's left eye, as if by his touch he
could take the sign of stress from him.
"Yes."
"He has been through so much, Skinner. How much more will he be able to take?
When will Murdoch ever leave
him alone?" The question lay there. Neither expected Murdoch to ever give up
in his quest to own Fox. When
Skinner stood, Alex finally looked at him. "Thank you for helping him,
Skinner." And though he said nothing
about himself, his eyes thanked Skinner for whatever he had done to calm him—center him.
Skinner lowered his head marginally and then, with a depth of emotion that
startled Alex he said, "I would do
anything to keep him safe, Alex. I would do the same for you." When Alex's
eyes narrowed slightly Skinner
sighed. "I have seen into Garren's heart as well, Alex, and though he is a
killer he will never hurt you."
"He hurts me by keeping me as his toy and away from Fox. When he can separate
us simply at whim, Skinner, he
hurts me."
There was no response Skinner could give to that. Alex was right. No matter
what Garren felt for Alex, no matter
Skinner's own intense emotion for Alex himself, the two men were not free to
choose their own path. His
decision to give Alex to Garren could be reduced down to that simple fact. Fox
and Alex were together at Garren's
and his own whim.
He said nothing as he stepped out of the tent, breathing the fresh air deep
into his lungs before facing Garren who
waited just outside the tent. "It is done," he said simply.
Garren moved passed him with the intention of entering the tent and Skinner
frowned. "Fox is sleeping in there,"
he said firmly. His objection was clear. He did not want Garren near Fox.
Garren smiled darkly and Skinner was again struck by the creature's beauty.
The ascendant in him mourned
Garren's own power and strength. Here was a man who would have made quite a
lovely toy. His body alone was
worth hours of attention, but the beauty of his face, the fall of silken hair,
the gleam of the gas-flame eyes were
breathtaking.
"Then take Alex out," Skinner insisted, not trusting the wolf to leave Fox
unviolated.
"And separate them," Garren jeered, smiling as his words stuck home. He
entered the tent and deliberately closed
the flap to indicate to Skinner that he had had his time—his use. His eyes
took in the scene before him with great
appreciation. His little cat was snuggled up to the sleeping prince, rubbing
his nose in Fox's hair and fairly
purring with contentment. Both were so beautiful he gave a small, yearning
growl.
That noise earned him a little glare from his mate, who had been watching him
intently since he had entered.
"Don't even look at him that way," Alex hissed quietly.
Garren knelt down beside Fox, staring at Alex with quiet amusement. "You
always give orders, Cat," he
chuckled.
"Quiet," Alex insisted. "He's exhausted." He petted Fox's face when Fox made
a small noise and moved closer to
him. "Why don't you leave? Let him sleep."
"I want to ask you if you are feeling better. I want to talk to you. Do you
stay in here with Fox we talk here. Of
course, I am ever your servant," he said smiling with condescension, "I will
certainly leave with you if you do not
want to disturb your pretty's sleep."
Alex's lips thinned and his finely carved nostrils flared with irritation. "He
isn't a 'pretty!' He is a man!"
Garren shrugged, unconcerned, taunting his cat into pretty anger by running a
finger down Fox's arm. He got the
reaction he wanted when Alex hurried to his feet and fairly crackled with rage.
Garren smiled wickedly and took
one last moment to appreciate the prince's allure. The scent of him, the
beauty. Garren knew instinctively that
Fox would whimper and moan prettily as he was pleasured. And too he could
recall quite vividly how beautiful
the man had looked in Murdoch's sling. The smell of whipped, intimate flesh
had stirred him and those of the
pack who served as guards for Murdoch. He recalled now the sleek lines and
rounded ass. Delicious.
He stood then and turned his attention to his mate. The tension and ire had
tightened Alex's body and the fire that
he loved made the jade eyes shine. He followed Alex out and was further amused
to see Skinner nearby. He
couldn't resist running his hand over Alex's tight, muscular ass. Didn't want
to resist. He gave that round flesh a
lusty squeeze and bent to whisper into Alex's ear. "You need some more
attention here soon, Cat." He chuckled as
Alex jerked away from him and glared. Would his cat ever realize how much he
enjoyed this spitting and hissing?
"Forget it, Garren," Alex warned. "Don't you have something else to do? Do
you always have to stick to me like
some kind of disease? Get it through your thick skull," he rasped out with
frustrated anger, "I do not want you!
Find some other toy to drive insane."
"Insane?" Garren grinned. "Insane to be taken?" He chuckled with true
amusement. "You become insane so
prettily, Alex."
Alex snapped his mouth shut and looked away from the irritating wolf. "You
wouldn't have had anything of me if
you hadn't poisoned me," he insisted. "You and your damn spore! Don't think I
don't know it."
Garren shrugged. It was unimportant to him. "The result is the same, Cat.
You need me. And you purr so
wonderfully well."
Alex turned his attention away from Garren resolutely and immediately found
Akael. He was relieved to find that
Akael was gesturing Garren over.
The old wolf had a stern look on his rugged face and Garren bent to Alex.
"Stay here, mate, I go to speak with
Akael." He chuckled again, a sound that was beginning to grate on Alex's
nerves. "I assume this discussion will
be about you." With one last slap on Alex's rear, he moved off towards Akael.
Alex immediately made his way to the new arrivals. He would have gone back to
Fox, but feared his entrance on
top of all the entrances and exits to and from the tent would wake Fox. He
needed sleep. To assuage his own
curiosity about the new arrivals and to verify to himself that they were no
threat to Fox. He knew all too well
how eager even humans were to touch changed people. There were several that
made his instincts for caution come
alive. He knew the other two old wolves, Josia and Emil, were following him,
but unlike Akael, they had very
little to say to him and so they were distant shadows. Since they had been
first introduced to him they had said
nothing to him at all. In fact they seemed to defer to Akael, which was odd to
Alex as Garren had introduced one
as the brother of his father.
God, he hated how Garren talked. "'The brother of my father's my ass! Just
say my damn uncle," he grouched as
he neared the newcomers. "A fucking formal werewolf!"
There were two men in the group who had the look of ex-marines. They had short
cut hair, big bodies that seemed
less sculpted in a gym than by pure labor. They had defiant expressions on
their faces, but blood-stained clothes.
The two of them stood out, both large men, both kept their guards up and looked
extremely uncomfortable. They
also seemed to have made themselves the protectors of the small band, which
consisted of six men and five
women. He wondered what they had endured to get here. He actually didn't
really care. He just wanted to make
sure his first impression of them was in fact correct.
He wandered close, casually and saw them react to whatever damned change had
turned him into some damned
Penthouse Pinup but they seemed to resent their attraction to him and
studiously avoided looking at him. After
only a few moments of conversation he had solidified his first impression.
They were what they looked like,
retired military that had probably been upright citizens. In fact if they were
to stay away from Fox, he wouldn't
have any beef with them.
It was one of the women and her companion that made him wary. She was
diminutive, pretty even, with a fresh
face that fairly screamed innocence. She smiled shyly at everyone, stuck close
to her male companion. Now he
was another one who bore close inspection. He was well muscled but not big and
he appeared to be as shy and
innocent as was the woman who clung to him. Now if that ring on her finger had
been put there by that
unassuming man and they were both what they seemed, how in the Hell had they
even survived? Their accents
were mid-western so it wouldn't be far off to guess that they had traveled
quite a way to get to the Pacific coast.
How in the Hell had they made it? More importantly, how had they both made
it. None of the other survivors
had ever seen each other before they had begun their trek, at least according
to one of the retired Marines. The
woman looked up at him and smiled again before hiding her face in her husband's
shoulder. The man looked at
him and shrugged as if to say, 'You know women.'
Alex narrowed his eyes and took a step back from the two. There was something
definitely off with these two.
What exactly it was he didn't know. But it was hard to believe that these two
could have survived the horrors that
had been unleashed on the world. He had seen enough horror himself and that
had been almost exclusively within
the protective shadow of Skinner's power. What it was like outside that
protection would be a living nightmare.
And these two, these innocents survived?
Impossible.
He knew that if it were as bad as he suspected, that he himself, before this
damn change, would have made
it—maybe. Luck and banding together had everything to do with who made it
west. And conceivably the others
could have protected these two. But that was only after they banded
together.
He decided to engage them in conversation. Sure that they would reveal
themselves to be other than what they
appeared. Sure that that would inadvertently give themselves away.
On his first assumption he was quickly, quietly proved correct. On the second
he couldn't have been more wrong.
They wanted him to know what they were and who they were from.
"What is it, Akael, that you summon me over to you," Garren said irritably as
Akael seemed to ignore him. He
sighed deeply as Akael merely held up a stilling hand. Akael was most
disrespectful at times. He followed
Akael's gaze and he frowned. Alex had of course moved on and was now walking
toward two big men.
Newcomers who smelled of death. They had killed many and held many dead in the
last few weeks. He turned
back to Akael, impatient. Surely Akael could trust Josia and Emil for two
minutes. For that was the length of
time he was giving Akael for this conversation.
"Do you have something to say, say it and be done with it. I am growing
impatient," he said finally and his tone
was a command. Akael immediately turned back to him, but his raised brow
ruined the effect of absolute
obedience. Garren had to admit there were drawbacks to having his old
protector around again. A muscle clenched
in his jaw and finally Akael seemed to understand that he was angering his
Garren and bowed his head for a
moment. A show of respect that assuaged Garren entirely. Assuaged him
entirely because it was Akael, he sighed
to himself. Still, Akael knew all too well the affection he could claim in
Garren's heart.
"I beg your forgiveness, Garren. My rudeness..."
"Akael, stop this. We both know you have never begged me for anything," Garren
growled.
"Then we can have this conversation without impatience?"
Garren bristled again. His old taskmaster had just put him in place again.
"Tell me what it is you need to tell
me, Akael," Garren said calmly.
"It concerns your mate."
Garren sighed. "He is a handful, I know."
"He is undisciplined and completely reckless. He needs punishment. And I need
to be able to do more than growl
at him from time to time. He has no fear of me and he certainly doesn't fear
you."
Garren's eyes narrowed. "You will not."
"Then you tie my hands. Or do you want me to carry your mate everywhere?" He
explained the situation with the
witches and Alex's surprising ability to bring Akael to his knees and go where
he had been forbidden. When
Garren couldn't hide his smile Akael shook his head. "It is not humorous."
"Akael, what kind of cat would he be without some scratching and spitting. If
you cannot handle him..."
"You do not allow me to handle him, Garren. Even you were not above
punishment. Think you that your
parents liked to see me punish you? Think you they enjoyed your sulks after?
Think you I did?"
Garren shifted on his feet and glared at him. "That was different. I had to
learn. If I did not make adulthood, the
pack would be lost."
"Ah, yes. That is true. Garren, forgive me once more. I will not speak of
this again."
Garren stared at his taskmaster suspiciously. "What is this? Do you have a
point, make it!"
"No, Garren, I have no point. You reminded me that your parents entrusted me
with keeping you alive until you
could take care of yourself. It was something that they thought important.
That they knew without discipline the
vulnerable are dangerous to themselves. This situation is different." He
bowed his head again.
Garren wanted to howl with frustration. It was like the old days, when Akael
would instruct him in this way.
Make him do all the work and figure out what Akael meant. "Yes, it is
different," he said firmly, eyeing Akael's
bent head carefully.
"My mistake was in thinking you placed as high a value on your human mate as
the pack placed on you. A
mistake indeed."
Garren knew then. Of course he would place as high a value on his mate! And
Akael had trapped him. He let
Akael wait before he said, "I will keep him from Fox should he disobey you.
You may tell him so," he said
magnanimously.
"Yes, that is what I will do," Akael agreed. And still his head was bowed.
Garren ground his teeth together. "It will work, Akael, though I know well
that you prefer a more hands on
instruction."
"Yes, of course it will work. He is so attached to his pet. He will be
desolate every time he is punished." He
raised his eyes to Garren and there was hardness in his amber eyes. "It is
more effective than a simple blow that
will leave no damage. He grieves every minute he is apart from his pet. He
would do anything not to feel that
type of pain."
Garren flinched.
"The physical blows would be something he dreaded far less." Akael looked at
the man in question, he was now
sitting with the two humans who smelled of soap and confidence, and looked as
if they could blow away in a stiff
breeze. He had never seen the mate so intent before when he wasn't thinking of
his beautiful pet's safety. "And
painful for you too, my Garren."
Garren nodded. "Yes, but I will not separate him from Fox long."
"Effective," Akael commented dryly.
"I cannot let you punish him physically, Akael. The idea of another hurting
him, even you, sickens me."
Akael patted Garren's shoulder. "I understand. But punished he must be,
Garren."
"And he will be, as I have said."
"And how will you stand his mental pain? He is your mate. You will be better
served by correcting him in the
way you and your father were corrected. If you do not wish me to administer
this punishment than of course I will
not. But, you must."
Garren looked to his beautiful mate who was deep in conversation with two
humans. "He has so much pride,
Akael. It is terrible for him to be overpowered. I have punished him properly
before. He just gets angry."
"But, he will learn, Garren. He will learn to avoid it."
"I do not think so, Akael. My Alex is nothing if not stubborn."
Akael snorted, "Yes, this I have noticed."
Garren chuckled and slapped Akael on the shoulder. "Oh, my friend, I know you
have. And you have my
sympathy."
Akael sighed deeply.
"You will tell Josia and Emil that they are not to touch Alex. Does there
become a need to restrain him, you will
be the one to do it."
Akael was surprised by the request and it showed on his face. "They would die
before harming him, Garren.
Surely you do not question that!"
Garren shook his head. "No, I do not. I trust them implicitly, but I prefer
that Alex not be touched."
"They will think you don't have full confidence."
"Then you tell them what you like, Akael. I do not savor the thought of anyone
touching my mate. Even you."
With that the conversation was over and Garren left Akael standing there
alone.
A slow smile came over Akael's face. His young Garren was too smitten by half.
Emil and Josia would have to
understand. Of course, he thought, his smile fading into exasperation, which
meant he would be dealing with the
spitting and scratching more often than the other two would. He thought they
would be relieved when they
understood it in those terms. And he knew that they would be glad for their
Garren that he had found a mate, even
if he were a short-lived human.
Alex sensed Garren approaching and covered the woman's hand. "Enough. I
understand what I have to do. Talk
no more of this and stay the hell away from Skinner. He'll know what you are
if you get too close. He's
distracted right now, but you can bet he won't be that distracted.
The two nodded and instantly their expressions went from intent to blank as
Alex stood to intercept Garren. He
stepped away from the two distracting Garren who was staring at the two
considerably.
"Garren, I need to talk to you," he said briskly. He pulled at Garren's arm
insistently.
Garren resisted and Alex was unable to move him an inch. "Who are these humans
you speak to? I would be
assured that they have no doubts that you are off-limits."
Alex sighed. "All right. Never mind. I'll go talk to Skinner. You talk to
these two." He hated the way he had
been reduced to manipulating like some child, but he was instantly rewarded by
his tactics. Garren moved away
from the two agents that Spender had sent. Alex didn't care who sent them,
they represented a solid chance for
him and Fox to escape. Spender had resources that could get them miles away
from Skinner and Garren both.
With the help of the medallions, he was gambling that the two of them would be
unable to find them. That
Spender had an ulterior motive was undoubted, but he wasn't Garren, Skinner or
even Murdoch.
Alex would use him and then dump him. And then he and Fox would be free. It
was intoxicating. He had felt
just hours ago as if he weren't even himself anymore. Had said it. 'I'm not
even me.' And how could he be
himself like this? Owned. Seeing Fox only when Garren saw fit. It was more
than just escape now. Escape to
me, he thought. I need to escape to me.*
There was one problem.
Skinner.
He would read the information from Alex easily. The plan would be shut down
before it even began. And so he
had to do two things, and he had to do the first immediately. Get away from
Skinner and Fox. For if he told
Fox, and how could he not tell Fox everything when he stared into those forest
eyes, Skinner, who would never
let Fox stray long from his side, would read it from Fox as easily as he would
from Alex himself. The second
thing mirrored the first in absolute importance. He had to make sure that
Skinner did not move them to San
Francisco via air as had been Skinner's intent for this last leg of the
journey.
Spender's agents had been quite specific. There would be a military
helicopter, much like the one that had come
down in Fort Bragg, on the southern side of the Russian River. The woman was
quite specific about that.
Though it made sense to a certain extent, as the wolves would not be able to
cross the river at that spot. It had
been described as very wide and far from any bridge. Alex had to wonder why
the helicopter could not land closer
to their present position. The firepower those helicopters could bring to bear
could hold off any wolf for the few
moments it would take to get him and Fox out of there.
But they had been insistent. It had to be on the southern side. It had to be
at specific coordinates.
Fine. If that was the game plan, he was ready to play.
So the second and first portion involved him convincing Garren to convince
Skinner to travel by land, but
quickly. And to keep him away from Skinner.
"What is it, Cat? Are you upset?" Garren bent to smell Alex close up,
scenting excitement and nervousness, but
no real upset. "What is it?" He pulled Alex to him and engulfed him in an
incredibly strong embrace,
instinctively trying to show his mate that he was fully capable of protecting
him and taking care of any problem.
He stroked Alex's back. "Tell me."
Alex gritted his teeth even as he leaned into the embrace. Garren did smell
nice, and his body was so wonderfully
hard. Spore, he reminded himself. You don't really want to be held by him.
He wanted more than anything to be
with Fox, no matter how nice it was to be so—so appreciated by this powerful
creature. So thinking, he turned
his gaze up into the stunning eyes and said, "I want to ask you to do something
for me."
Garren stiffened. What would his mate ask? He wanted naturally to do what his
mate requested, but he would not
release him. "Yes," he asked guardedly.
"I want to see if you can convince Skinner not to fly us to San Francisco. I
want to go by land. Quickly, sure,
but I want to go by land."
Garren tilted his head to the side in curiosity. "Why, Cat?"
Alex frowned. "I don't want to be in some plane with him. Can you understand
that?" It was lame even to him,
but he relied on another thing to compound his advantage. Using what he knew
of Garren, he let his very real
desire to stay away from Skinner show and he let his gaze fall to the ground as
if he were embarrassed about his
fear.
Garren growled softly at his mate's upset and quickly moved to soothe him "We
will travel by land, no matter
what the ascendant decides."
Alex jerked and his eyes locked with Garren's again. "I don't want him to go
off with Fox! No, we all go
together. If you can't get him to agree then I'll fly."
Garren gritted his teeth in anger at the very idea that Skinner might deny this
request. "We go together on land,
Alex. I promise that. Do you feel better now?" He bent and lightly nipped at
Alex's nose, nuzzling him
playfully. "You can go and rest with Fox if you like, Alex. I know you need
him. I want you to be happy, Cat."
Alex was startled by the earnestness in Garren's voice and for a moment, he was
completely unsure of his wisdom
in leaving him. He shook off that notion quickly. He and Fox would be torn
apart by this situation. He knew it.
"You have my permission to make love to your pet if you like. Though he is the
*only one you can share
yourself with. That is not negotiable, mate. I am being very generous in
this." Garren nodded to emphasize his
seriousness. There was no real reason that a mate could not make love to
another as long as the dominant partner
agreed to it. Fox was not a threat really. He was too beautiful by far not to
let his mate enjoy taking him. One
day he would demand to be part of it, but first he would have to deal with
Skinner on that issue.
"He is not my pet, as I have said more than once I think, Garren," Alex hissed.
"And he is the only one I want
to share myself with," he finished pointedly.
Garren grinned. The fire was dazzling in Alex's eyes.
"But, I want to go now. Fox is sleeping—I need to be away for the night. I
need to think. It's too hard—I can't
be with him right now." His honesty helped him, for Garren would have smelled
a lie, he knew.
Garren nodded and kissed Alex's lips, licking at the softness there. "Wait
here, Cat, I will discuss things with
Skinner."
"I'll wait over there," Alex replied, pointing to a copse of trees about thirty
yards from the camp.
Garren shook his head, his cat always had to have some control of every
situation, even down to where he would
stand. Of course his mother had been much more obedient—when she wanted to
be. For a wolf mate, his mother
had been surprisingly independent. But Alex was human and therefore he was
expected to be a bit less apt to be
respectful to him as Garren of the pack. He watched as Alex, not waiting for
his agreement, walked to where he
had decided he would wait. Akael and Josia and Emil all followed him.
He approached Skinner just as Skinner returned to the camp. The ascendant
smelled of the opening, that lingering
power source from which all ascendants could draw. He knew what the witches
had done as soon as he heard what
ailed the prince. Lust was a powerful tool. What Skinner had done for Fox had
drained him greatly. Witches
could craft impossible enchantment and only a powerful ascendant could cleanse
it. How stupid of Murdoch to
think Skinner would not be able to combat such a thing.
Murdoch seemed to have lost all perspective. It was clear to him that Murdoch
was doomed to serious errors when
he had questioned his right to his proclaimed mate. But this was ridiculous.
Perhaps he was desperate to have his
prince back and had gambled that the witches would make Fox want him so that he
would have called to
Murdoch. It would have worked of course if Skinner hadn't acted quickly.
Wouldn't Murdoch think that Skinner
would?
He shook his head. Murdoch was not his concern now.
He made his mate's desires known and though Skinner seemed confused by the
request he agreed to everything
without Garren having to growl or threaten once to get his mate's way. When
Skinner opened the tent to go in
with Fox, Garren was hit again by that succulent scent. That incredible, sweet
scent that made him think of—need
sex. So changed that no creature could resist that allure for long.
Yes, he would soon taste that sweetness for himself, with his mate appreciating
it with him. He turned with some
reluctance away from the tent until he spied his mate and went eagerly to his
side. Salmon Falls, CA
The group was assembling now to leave. Sometime in the night, Skinner had
collected additional vehicles for the
extra survivors. Mulder himself had gathered all his belongings, taking great
care to keep the two medallions at
the top of his duffel bag. He looked around in the dark morning for some sign
of Alex, but could not find him.
He tried not to let it hurt him, but it did. Alex was not only absent this
morning when they were preparing to
depart, but he had not come to the tent at any time since Skinner had come to
their side.
Skinner had come to him and he blushed hotly in memory.
He had woken sometime in the stillness of the night, hearing a heartbeat under
his cheek. At first, he thought it
was Alex over whom he was draped so intimately, but the soft hair on the chest
under him alerted him that it was
not Alex. Skinner stroked his face softly.
"It's okay, baby, you're all right. Sleep."
Fox lifted his head and though he couldn't make out Skinner's features in the
darkness, he knew exactly how
Skinner would look, relaxed and maybe sleepy. Strong features and a
seriousness in that handsome face that were
so much a part of the man. Solid.
"Where's Alex?" he asked.
"With Garren," Skinner responded honestly.
"Oh."
"We will be leaving together tomorrow. Early. Garren has asked that we go by
land. Alex didn't want to fly. I
know I told him that we would go slowly, but I thought he would want—who
knows what I thought," he
admitted. "I can't very well expect Alex to trust I won't try to keep the two
of you apart."
Fox said nothing, but lay his head back down on the warm, furry chest. His
mind was starting to think of Alex's
possible reasons, but he stopped those thoughts immediately. Skinner would
know. Now regrets distracted him,
but that wouldn't guarantee that he would stay distracted while Fox plotted.
"We just want to be together," he whispered and let the thought of the short
time he had had with Alex flood
through him for Skinner to see.
Skinner shifted so that Fox lay beneath him. "You will be, Fox. I swear this
to you right now. You will be. I
know that Garren wants that too."
"Oh, well, now I feel so much better," Fox said bitterly.
"I'll make you feel better, baby," Skinner husked in a voice gone heavy with
desire.
Fox shivered now with the memory of what Skinner had done. There had been no
time to protest, no time to do
anything but melt into Skinner with sudden, heavy desire of his own. Skinner's
lips had drawn at his own, softly
yet with such demand that he grew rigid with anticipation. Knowing what
Skinner would do to him, wanting it.
Skinner tugged at Mulder's shirt, ripping it away easily and impatiently. He
bent his lips to one, bruised, stitched
nipple and licked softly.
The pain went straight to Mulder's pulsating cock and stung there on his hot
tip. Every lick of Skinner's tongue
on his nipple made the tip of his cock feel like it was being thumbed and he
tossed his head in pleasureful pain.
The other nipple was bathed and his legs spread eagerly. His heart ached for
Alex, but his body was more than
happy to stretch out and be loved by Skinner. He cried out when Skinner's
tongue moved lower, licking between
his pectorals and then back to one nipple at a time, putting more pressure on
the sensitive flesh.
He spread his legs further apart and wanted to be free of his jeans. Without
pausing, Skinner stroked the jeans
away. Dimly Mulder wondered at that, how the fabric seemed to just slide off
his body, as easily as a silken sheet
laid over him, but that rational thought had no place in this time, this time
of sensation. The cool air felt
wonderful and painful to his weeping cock. The stroke of Skinner's tongue
growing lower and yet every time
returning to his nipples to torture pleasure out of them, and his cock jerked
visibly in torment.
Skinner was making hungry sounds deep in his throat, sounds echoed lushly by
Mulder's cries of helpless passion.
"You taste so sweet, Fox. My Fox."
"Walter! Wal-ter," Fox panted, his mouth open and gasping. The touch of
Skinner's hands skimmed down Fox's
thighs even as his tongue moved down to his belly, lapping there at Fox's belly
button. Skinner's strong hands
kneaded the long muscles in Fox's thighs, rubbing ever upward until both his
hand and his tongue were rivals in
slow teases. Moving too slowly toward Fox's wet erection. Swirling or
grasping inches from its tortured
hardness.
"Please. Pl-please touch me," he whispered in a ragged voice. He arched his
hips trying to force Walter's tongue
to the tip of his cock. He circled his hips trying to force Walter's hands to
his cock. Nothing worked, Skinner
was toying with him at his own leisure. With a start, Mulder realized that
Skinner's hand were emitting some low
level shock, lightly thrumming through his body at every caress of Skinner's
fingers. And his tongue as well.
Somehow Skinner was conducting small currents of electricity right into Fox's
skin.
He twitched with it and the pleasure began to build. He realized too that
Skinner was allowing him to feel the
electricity slowly as he made his way on his seductive course to Fox's cock.
The knowledge that Skinner was
going to touch him there—that way—made Mulder heave up in fear. What would
that feel like? God he didn't
want to know.
But he did! He did want to know. It was like his skin was alive under
Skinner's tongue and fingers. "Oh,
no—no, Walter—please—not there," he gasped even as his hips began their
arching and circling once more. "Not
there—not like this," he begged as Skinner chuckled against the sensitive
skin over his hip.
"Yes, my Fox, there—like this—until you scream my name," Walter promised.
He reveled in the taste of Fox,
his smell and his cries. His struggles to be touched a physical dichotomy to
his frantic words. He let out more of
his energy, let it envelop Fox with its sweet reverberation. He glanced up
once into Fox's face, seeing passion
personified. Fox. So utterly shattered by passion, his lips parted with
ragged pleas and hard breaths.
Beautiful.
And then he touched the erection that swayed, wet and hungry before him, took
it in his hands at the base and held
tight, letting more of his energy purge into the hard flesh eager in his hands.
He dabbed at the silvery wetness at
the tip, gasping with hunger for it. Fox screamed and his hips lifted off the
padding of his sleeping bag, the
muscles in his thighs corded with tension.
"Feel that?" Skinner asked huskily. "Now this." He slid his lips around the
tip, tasting the honey pooling there.
Fox's screams made him so hard. The way Fox was trying to pull away and drive
forward all at once as if the
pleasure were too intense to stand and yet too addictive to withdraw. He slid
one hand down deep into the crevice
between Fox's buttocks and he heard Fox mumbling, begging, knew Fox knew what
he intended. He slid one
finger, wet from Fox's own precum, inside Fox's tight body. He pushed until his
finger rested over Fox's prostate
and he began to rub, all the while creating an arc between his mouth and his
finger.
It was as if a thousand orgasms were tearing through him. Fox knew he wouldn't
survive this pleasure. He would
simply tear apart, rent irrevocably by the onslaught. He could hear his
screams as if from a distance, as if made by
some other man losing his mind, but could only feel, could only see his body
caught in some pinkish glow and
see Skinner sucking on him. His legs parted and pounded on the ground and his
arms were thrown over his head,
moving restlessly as he came apart.
Fox's screams and the taste of him, the feel of him became too much for Skinner
and as Mulder's orgasms filled
his mouth he was already freeing his own, aching erection. Fox's body was
spasming with the residuals of
pleasure and he was like a kitten as Skinner slid his thighs up and entered him
in one, smooth thrust. He took
those wet lips, those soft and lush wet lips with his own and fed there as he
began to pump into Fox's limp and
shuddering body. He let both of them become enveloped once more with energy
and as he moved the hum of it
vibrated their bodies, every inch.
Mulder didn't know who he was, or where. He knew only that he couldn't breath
without feeling enormous
pleasure. That he was moving his hips up to Walter and that they were both
illuminated by pink light. There was
a humming around them as Skinner's moans grew. He tried to thrust back into
the wonderful motion Skinner had
begun but the intensity was too much and all he could do was feel it. And then
there was nothing, nothing but
that feeling of coming utterly undone. He cried out Walter's name over and
over and then there was simply
darkness.
And when he had woken, Walter was standing over him in the predawn light of the
camp.
"I'm sorry to wake you, Fox, but we have to leave soon," Skinner said softly,
gently. His voice filled with
tenderness. "I thought you might want to eat something before we left."
Fox sat up and moaned at the movement.
Skinner kneeled beside him and with a small frown of concern asked," Are you
all right? I didn't hurt you did I?"
Mulder shook his head, "No, just sensitive." He looked into Walter's face and
felt a blush heat his cheeks. He
looked down quickly to hide that stain. He had made it through years without
blushing. What was happening to
him? "What did you do to me? What was—that?"
"Liked it huh?" Skinner teased.
Mulder nodded, but said nothing.
"I learn as I go, Fox," he chuckled. "One thing I do know is that I am getting
stronger."
"God help me then," Fox murmured. He really couldn't take much more of—whatever it was Skinner had done.
But, God, had it felt wonderful!
Skinner chuckled and left him to gather his things.
And now, waiting for everyone to load into the several SUVs, Mulder had the
horrid certainly that Alex must have
heard his lunatic screams of hours gone by. What had he thought? How had he
felt? He looked around once more
for Alex, but found no sign of him.
Skinner was walking towards him carrying a big, army-green duffel easily over
his shoulder. Mulder swallowed
guiltily as he had the sudden urge to go to Skinner and beg for just a little
sample of what he had done to him.
He grew hard at the very temptation of it. But he steeled himself from those
thoughts and asked, "Where's Alex?"
"He's coming now, Fox. Don't worry."
Fox looked to where Skinner had gestured and indeed there was Alex, looking so
adorably sleepy that Fox wanted
to go to him and kiss the sleepy pout from his lips. He narrowed his eyes a
bit suddenly when he realized there
was no pout on Alex's lips, they were swollen slightly as if very well used.
Garren winked at Mulder when their
eyes met and Mulder drew up tight, resorting to an angry glare that seemed to
amuse the big wolf to no end.
Before Garren could stuff Alex into the nearest Ford Explorer, Alex looked to
Fox and nodded.
There had been some message in that look, but Fox was too caught up in knowing
that Alex no doubt had not
heard his screams as he had been making his own. The image was torturous.
Alex screaming for someone else.
And he knew it was unfair. But he knew something else. He couldn't control
the feeling of hurt and jealousy.
Even if he knew Alex was not to blame. Even if he knew that Alex felt the same
way. Alex was his!
Garren was saying something to Skinner. He hadn't even been aware of Garren
approaching, but now he stood just
inches away. "Alex wants to show something to his pet—to Fox later. Before
we reach San Francisco. Just
north of the Russian River." Garren looked to Fox and his smile was entirely
too knowing. "You had quite a
night, little prince. I heard you from nearly a mile away."
Fox blanched and his mouth dropped open in shock.
Skinner chuckled at Fox's expression and to Fox's annoyance looked supremely
pleased with himself.
"I do not know why he wants to stop there—some personal relevance he wants to
share with Fox. But I ask that
you stop there as he requests. I will let you know when we come to it. My
pack and I will leave you then and
find our own way across the river." He smiled then, looking like a very young
man in the dawning day. "I trust
you understand our reluctance to trust another to navigate us over a river. At
least in this type of vehicle."
Skinner shrugged, annoyed at yet another delay, but unwilling to deny Alex
anything. Not now. "The vehicles
can be made to go high over the river. Perhaps they will not move as quickly
as a plane would, but we can go
high if you like."
Garren shook his head. "I do not yet trust you enough, Skinner."
The answer was blunt and honest. Skinner approved of it with a nod. "As you
wish. Let's get going then. I want
to make San Francisco before late morning."
Fox watched as Garren returned to the now revving Ford and heard all the others
come to life. Not like they
would have sounded and indeed sounding like no motor he had ever heard before.
He flushed deep red when he
realized what they sounded like. They sounded like the humming Skinner had
played over his body, sounded like
Skinner's energy. Skinner was chuckling again and Fox knew that the man had
read those thoughts from him. He
hurried to get in the Jeep Skinner pointed him to and they departed in a quiet
caravan of metal. Russian River
The vehicles had stopped amid a forest so ancient and beautiful that it made
even Mulder, who had been sullen
with thoughts of Alex and Garren, smile with pleasure. The ancient redwood
trees were so impervious to the
passage of time, to the plight of mankind, to everything but reaching the sky,
that they seemed godlike. The
humans in the group were all scattered about in the abandoned parking lot of a
resort that squatted on the banks of
the Russian River.
Why had Alex wanted them to stop here, Fox wondered silently.
"Go and ask him," Skinner answered.
Mulder jumped a bit. "Stop reading my mind!" he demanded. Skinner just smiled
in reply. Why had Alex
wanted them to stop? Had he wanted a few moments alone?
"Fox, go ask him," Skinner repeated mildly. He bent to kiss Fox's lips and
then walked to join Garren who was
watching Alex walk down to the bank of the river.
To Fox, Garren and the other wolves seemed agitated. They paced in small
circles and kept eyeing Alex as if they
expected something horrible to swoop down upon him, though none followed him.
He had gathered from Skinner
that Alex had requested privacy for their talk.
Why? Why here? Fox mused. And then he knew. Alex was attempting here of all
places to make a break for it.
It was ridiculous! While the wolves might not be able to cross the river,
Skinner could. And would! In an
instance. He pursed his lips in irritation. What was he thinking? But there
he stood, at the river's edge, looking
across at some distant point. Plotting their abbreviated run no doubt, Fox
thought.
But still, if only for a few moments, then he would go. He looked to see if
Skinner were watching and hurriedly
took out the two medallions, and stuffed them both in the pocket of the light,
nylon jacket he wore.
He walked down slowly, careful to think of nothing but the water, the way it
rolled gently by here at this spot, but
roared just a few meters further downstream. There were undercurrents just
east of where Alex stood, currents that
would take the unwary swimmer right into the more angry water downstream.
While the river wasn't as wide at
this spot as other spots in its passage to the sea it narrowed considerably
very quickly, which caused the more
turbulent churning downstream.
"Alex. What are you doing?" he whispered as he came to his lover's side."
"Do you have them?" Alex hissed, not answering his question.
"Yes, but—what do you think—I mean how far do you think we'll get?"
"Do you trust me?" Alex asked.
Jade eyes looked into Fox's and Fox knew full well that he hadn't been the only
one who had been angry the last
few hours. Alex's eyes were burning with the same jealousy he felt and he knew
then that Alex had heard him the
same as Garren had. There was such anger there that his own paled in
comparison. He lowered his eyes guiltily
and nodded. "Of course I do."
"Do you still want to leave him?" Alex's voice had acid in it.
Fox's head jerked up and he looked confused and hurt. "Of course! How could
you ask..."
"Then just do what I tell you to do and don't ask questions. Got it?"
Alex's tone brooked no argument and Fox nodded, uncertain.
"When I tell you to, jump in and swim. Swim like a motherfucker, Fox, and
don't stop. No matter what."
"And then what..."
"Just do it!" Alex growled.
"Okay, Alex. I will," Fox whispered. Alex was losing it and he had no idea
what to do but placate him. Swim
like a motherfucker! That was his plan? Jesus! They were doomed!
"Now!" Alex barked and pushed him toward the water.
Fox fumbled with the medallions and put both around his neck to assure himself
they wouldn't be lost and he was
pushed again. "Dammit, Alex..." he complained before Alex shook him.
"Fuck, Fox! Move!" Alex hissed and then they were both running into the
shallow water.
They swam quickly and every moment Fox expected to feel Skinner touch him, drag
him back to the shore, but
they were nearly half way across before he heard the roaring of the wolves.
"Jesus," Mulder gasped, "they're already after us."
"Stop talking and swim," Alex barked.
Fox had many a thing to say to his insane lover, but he put his whole heart
into swimming and was pleased to see
himself move away from Alex as his strokes took on a steady, remembered rhythm.
There was a sound in the
distance, coming fast toward them from the southern bank of the river. Fox
slowed suddenly, unsure of what that
sound represented. "Alex..."
"Swim, baby! Just fucking swim."
"But, it sounds like a helicopter," Fox breathed even as he sped up once more.
They both felt the mud of the river
bottom at the same time and he looked back to see Garren and the other old
wolves racing east, toward the narrow
portion of the river. "Oh God! Alex they're going to jump it."
Alex dragged himself and Fox out of the river and saw what Fox meant. Garren
and the three old wolves were
circling back, fully changed and running away from the river where it was wild
and more narrow. But surely it
was too wide to jump! Why had the agents insisted on this spot? There were so
many other spots far wider. And
then jumping wouldn't have even been an option. It was obvious that Garren was
running away from the river to
be able to have enough speed to jump it. He propelled Fox away from the water
just as he saw the black shape of
the helicopter over the tree line.
"No time to land," he screamed over the sudden roar of propellers. "They're
gonna have cables. Baby, you have to
grab hold tight! They'll pull us up! Jesus, don't let go!" He screamed.
Fox nodded, but he looked back across the river and saw one of the SUV'S racing
toward the shore.
Skinner!
The helicopter was above them with such suddenness he almost missed the cable
that Alex grabbed and held out to
him.
"Put your foot in this hole, "Alex commanded him. He watched to be sure Fox had
his foot in securely before he
slid his own foot in and the helicopter screamed as it lifted them off the
ground and dizzyingly into the air. "Hold
on!"
"I'm holding on!" Fox yelled back. "Do you think I want to fall?" The sudden
jerk of the cable upwards nearly
jerked it out of his hands and he heard Alex cry out, but he held tight and
raised his brow at Alex as if challenging
him to say anything.
Garren saw the vehicle that had come to take his mate from him and he howled in
rage and in fear of the river. It
wasn't too wide to jump. But it was wider than any he had ever attempted
before. Akael was running just in front
of him and he took the long jump first, just as Alex and Fox disappeared into
the belly of the beast and where
flown out of sight. Akael reached the other side with inches only to spare and
fell to his knees in the pain of such
closeness to the river. He scrambled up the shore to wait out the pain and
Garren reached the edge to leap.
Just as he was crouching with all the power in his legs he saw Murdoch appear
before him. A thin vision of his
old master, smiling mockingly at him. The suddenness of the vision threw him
off and he stumbled in an effort
not to collide with what he knew to be nothing but a projected image. But he
was too close to the edge not to
jump. Even as he made the leap he knew he wouldn't make it. He landed
suddenly and horribly several feet from
the shore and the pain ripped through him even as the water pulled him under.
He could feel the ground beneath
his claws and he tried to tear free of the water, the relentless, rushing,
cleansing water. He felt then the pain of
more of his pack as the young jumped in without thought trying to reach him.
He felt their immediate deaths and
wanted to howl for them. He sensed Josia and Emil's fear as they deliberately
jumped into the river and their pain
as they struggled to reach him. He cleared the water long enough to howl with
agony and then he was pulled
under again, dragged by the hated water, until for the first time in all his
life all rational thought fled and there was
just the pain.
Ruthless as a claw.
Water.
Running water.
Next: ??
The Conquering
by Czara (Nicole)
Escape to Me
She waits in cold and silence deep,
Biding time in winter's grip.
Cradled still and utterly,
Beneath imagined ships.
And nature's curtain's drawn
With silence predatory,
She rises.
She rises.
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0900
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty-One
Hour 0830
Salmon Falls, CA
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 1630
Penthouse
Day Twenty
Hour 0600
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 1630
He sent Alex all his thoughts, shared every motive in his decision and though
Alex could not forgive it, his eyes
cleared and there was some understanding there.
"I can smell my mate on you, Skinner. You should be careful not to think you
still own them both. I am going
in there. Do you try to stop me, you will feel the way Murdoch is feeling now.
Besieged by the pack."
Before he began, Akael watched Alex walk away from where the Garren had bade
him stay. He also watched Josia
and Emil follow at a distance. They would have to stay closer he decided.
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty-One
Hour 0430
Willows Resort, California
Day Twenty-One
Hour 0630
