Touched By The Moon Pt 04

04.

The Pack

The atmosphere of the Meet had gone from a lust-charged fuck party to a scolded classroom in only a few moments. Sam saw that most of the men and several women looked embarrassed or even ashamed, quickly taking seats on the ground amongst the dead pine needles or on logs around the bonfire; the trees overhead grew too thick together for the rain to smother the flames, but it hissed and popped angrily.

"Anyone care to explain

what

exactly was going on here?" Phil asked. Standing naked before the flames, he looked more like a chiseled statue, turning his irritated glare at the blonde. "Rebecca?"

The woman pushed back her wet hair and sniffed. "The moon's coming and

you

were taking your sweet time getting here. Tennessee never cared if we had a little fun before the Meets started."

Sam felt Wren tense up next to where she was standing when Rebecca said that name; if he'd been a cat, every hair the man had would've been standing on-end. It was sudden and startling enough that Sam flinched.

Whoever

Tennessee was, just the mention of his name made the air go colder, the light fade even more; there was muttering and murmuring from the small gathering, and the last of Rebecca's partners gave her a wider berth, scooting down the log and making more space between them.

"Tenn isn't in charge of this pack anymore, Rebecca," Phil said

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Oh,

fuck off

, Phil--this is a group of fucking werewolves, not my kids' PTA meeting. I get enough guilt about pack shit from my husband; I don't need

more

from you." She sat back, hooking both arms over the log behind her and crossed one leg over the other, as if she were lounging beside a pool.

Sam instantly disliked her. It was more than just the way she talked; her disdain for Phil's authority was almost physically palpable. It was the way she carried herself, her attitude and how she talked, as if she was there only out of obligation--which could've been the truth, for all Sam knew.

Phil snorted and looked at the black man next. "Lathel?"

"Oh, c'mon Phil, don't be like that." Lathel seemed more reluctant to argue than Rebecca had. "One thing just led to another. You know how it is;

everybody

knows how it is when the full moon's around the corner."

"What's the point of you asking me to take charge if no one's going to do what I say?" Phil sounded as frustrated as he was angry. "I didn't want this job in the first place. We can either use this group constructively, or you Dominants can walk all over the weaker wolves like you always do. Go fuck like animals on

your own

goddamn time. I've got better things to do than stand around naked in the rain and watch. You all

get

me?"

It felt like a scolding because that's what it was, Sam could see that plain as day. Her father had told her most of the pack was more submissive in nature--most of the men sat with heads down or hands folded in their lap.

The redhead--a skinny little thing who was probably around Sam's age--sat with her head in her hands, looking ready to cry. When she slid into the shape of a tawny-furred wolf, Sam saw the beast's eyes go wide and she shook her head before sliding back just as quickly, her eyes wide, looking around to see who noticed the change. It seemed involuntary, one the girl hadn't expected. But the girl needn't have worried much--nearly everyone there had their heads down, eyes turned away, keeping quiet or trying not to attract Phil's attention. The only exceptions were Rebecca, Lathel, Wren and Sam. That seemed significant.

"Fine." Phil cleared his throat and threw his head back, swiping his wet hair along his scalp. "Everyone, this is Sam, my daughter, fresh from not-so-rainy California." He gestured and every single pair of eyes swooped over to look at her. "She'll be staying with me for a little while. If you need a place to hide out with the full moon coming, we can find you other arrangements."

Sam folded her hands at her lap and tried not to squirm where she stood when everybody looked at her. It was more than simple nakedness, that honestly didn't bother her very much. It was her being the odd one out of the group, but she didn't want anyone to start judging her for who she happened to be related to.

She

did

note Wren looking at her from where he stood next to her, but he hadn't moved away since the orgy ended; it felt like he was making some unannounced claim on her. Sam wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the other hand, she'd been sucking on his cock like she'd been paid to do it just a few minutes earlier--men tended to get

possessive

about that sort of thing.

"I can handle personal introductions later, if anyone wants one," Phil continued. "Only order of business tonight is the full moon tomorrow night--if you need an excuse to get away for that night, you

need

to say so."

When nobody spoke up, Sam raised her hand, feeling a little foolish. "Why?" She ignored the urge to be embarrassed by everyone looking at her again.

"Because you can't control the change when the moon comes," Phil said. "Even if you don't physically change, it starts fucking with your head in other ways."

"Or just makes you start fucking," Rebecca added with a smirk.

Phil didn't look as if he wanted to agree, but nodded all the same. "Quite." He looked back at Sam. "We try to make sure everyone's got an emergency contact and a place to stay, if they need one."

"Well, it

seems

like nobody needs one," Rebecca said, spreading her hands. "Thanks for spoiling everyone's fun for nothing, Phil."

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rebecca, I

swear

--"

"Phil!" Lathel cut the other man off and pointed into the trees, past the edge of the muted firelight. Everyone turned and watched an immense, black-furred wolf come jogging into view. The beast slid from four legs to two with such ease like Sam had never seen before; not even her dad was so graceful to transition from one shape to the other while still moving, as if literally melting from one body into the other. In place of the animal was a tall, dark-skinned man as stocky as he was tall, with a barrel-shaped belly and chest, muscled neck and shaved head; he had thick arms and footsteps so heavy she could almost imagine the ground trembling under his feet. His face was mangled, with a wicked-looking scar that stretched down the side of his face, across one blinded eye and cheek, leaving permanent scowl at the corner of his mouth.

"He's back!" the teary redhead squeaked, shaking all over.

"He's

back!

" Rebecca echoed, but from her lips it sounded more like an exaltation.

"Fuck." Wren, who'd been so jumpy and upset a short while ago, slid into his fur and snarled at the scarred man.

"Wren,

stop!

" Phil pointed at the wolf and glared, and whatever authority or power he had was enough to make Wren back up several steps beside Sam; his wet hackles were still up but he stopped growling, for the moment.

Sam could hardly make sense out of

any

of it. "What the

fuck

is going on?"

"Lawd! Such language. Somebody tell that girl to

bite her tongue

before somebody goes and bites it off

for

her." The mangled man gave an exaggerated snap of his teeth. He also spoke with a bit of a slur, which Sam assumed came from whatever accident it was that had scarred him so badly. His good eye glittered black in the firelight, and more than that; she spotted a silver stud in his nose.

Sam stole a glance at her dad, who had walked around the fire to stand between the large man and the rest of the pack, arms crossed over his chest. His face was a mask of forced neutrality, but he

felt

so angry Sam could hardly even look at him.

"Ya'll miss me?" the large man asked, holding out both hands, a lopsided smile on his face. "No warm welcome for ol' Tennessee?"

"There's

no

welcome for you here, Tenn." Phil's voice was as welcoming as the wind and cold rain that fell on their heads. "Get out of here."

"Speak for yourself, Philly," Rebecca said. "Tenn!" The blonde sprang up from her seat and bounded past the sputtering flames, throwing herself into Tennessee's arms with a delighted little laugh, kissing him right on his thick, mangled lips. That kiss soon became something longer: it was lewd, even sloppy, as if they were a pair of lovers reunited after a long absence. It became less of an embrace and more of a show, something for everyone else to witness. Rebecca was making her opinion clear for anyone who cared to watch--and

everyone

was watching. "

I'm

certainly glad you're back, at least," she said, one knee bent, a foot pointed up behind her. "I missed my Tenny-Bear."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh my

God

."

Tenn seemed pleased at what welcome he did get, even if Rebecca was the only one who decided to greet him. After setting her down, he fixed his eyes on Sam next--the working one, anyway. "

Who

are you?" he said. "I never forget a face, or a..." His voice faded as he let his lecherous gaze slide up and down her rain-slicked body, finishing with a grin after licking his lips.

Wren snarled again, half-jumping in front of Sam, bumping her legs with his silver body. It made her grab a handful of his fur to stop him from attacking the man--Tennessee was so big Sam expected he could've slapped the wolf down with one hand.

"I'm Samantha," she said, "or Sam. Neither one to you, I think."

Tenn laughed and pushed past Rebecca, walking up closer. He was almost twice Sam's size, so big and dark he probably had his own orbital pull. "Oh, I

like

you, honey. Never had me a Chinese girl before."

"Sorry, I don't fuck outside my own species--

either

of them."

"What do you

want

, Tenn?" Phil's anger hadn't gone away--he kept it caged, penned and leashed, but everyone there could sense it. It made Sam think of the bonfire, still hot enough to burn in spite of the pouring rain.

Phil had come closer that Tennessee was within reach if he tried anything. Sam kept her hand firmly about Wren's scruff and took a long step backwards--out of Tennessee's reach, at least. She didn't know what it was that had set Wren off, but that hardly mattered, because she'd seen enough of Tenn to make her wish she hadn't.

"Just makin' the rounds, my good Philip!" Tenn gave a toothy grin--he had all his teeth as well, but that disfiguring scar made his smile an ugly, repulsive thing. "Been six months since you all managed to throw me out and left me with this--" He brushed a set of fingers across the scarred half of his face "--

beauty mark

to remember you all by. I decided that six months was long enough to stay in hiding, licking my wounds." He slid his tongue around his twisted mouth, slurping the air like he could taste it. "So I'm

back in the game.

When the moon arrives, by God, I'm taking back what's

mine

." The fire shone in Tenn's eyes; thunder and lightning punctuated his declaration, a flashing exclamation mark wreathed in flame.

No one said anything--either no one could stand up to Tennessee's ego, or no one knew what to say. Rebecca had a grin so wide that Sam expected the woman might float right off the ground. Sam was also surprised that her father didn't say speak or object somehow, but then, she'd seen how he reacted to being their leader, hadn't she?

"I came myself this time," Tennessee said, casting his eyes about. "Out of

respect

." He looked at every face there--those who had the strength to, looked back; most kept their eyes turned down or looked away, unable to withstand the stare of even one penetrating eye. "Next time, I intend to show an appropriate use of force if needed, you understand. Rest assured that I've not idly spent these six months in recovery. Can you all say the same?"

Once again, no one spoke. The sound of the rain was loud and the fire was finally starting to die, having received too much of the downpour to survive for much longer. Sam thought about saying something, but she held back--she didn't know these people, and she certainly didn't owe them anything. If none of them wanted to stand up to a bully, who was she to get in the way?

Tenn gave Phil a long look. "See you in two days, Philip. Or not." The giant winked his good eye and gave a pair for finger-guns, because of

course

he did, Sam thought to herself. He blew Sam a kiss next. "Be seein' you

real

soon, sweetie." Then he turned, grabbed Rebecca by her wet hair and pulled her after him, ignoring her gasp of pain and weak protests as they walked through the trees. A few moments later, a huge black

thing--

humanoid in shape, covered in fur but walking on two legs, with long limbs and clawed hands--appeared in Tennessee's place; he hoisted Rebecca over one shoulder like a rucksack and jogged deeper into the woods where he was lost from sight.

Wren slid back into his bare skin and pushed up to his feet. The look he gave Sam was so unexpected she laughed, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the group.

"What, what is it?" Phil asked, sounding surprised.

"Sorry! Sorry." Sam smothered her snickering behind one hand and pointed at Wren. "Your

face

, man."

"You didn't have to stop me," Wren protested, frowning--she'd injured his pride, Sam could tell.

"

Actually,

I did," Sam said. "He would've ground you into paste with his little finger--don't get mad at me for not letting you pick a fight you couldn't win."

"She's right, Wren," Phil added. "Don't forget what happened last time."

Wren glared at Sam and then her father after, but he didn't argue.

"Listen up," Phil said next, looking to the pack. "You all talk it over and decide what you want to do. Tennessee's going to follow through with his threat--

you

know it,

I

know it."

"What's the point?" Lathel said, sounding frustrated. "We barely managed to kick him out the last time! He's just gonna be twice as mean and vicious as he was before."

"Not again," the redhead said to herself, hugging her legs, rocking back and forth. "Not again, not again, not again." She repeated the lines over and over, like a mantra out of a nightmare.

"Why let him push you around?" Sam asked. "If you don't want him as your leader, just...leave."

"Ain't that easy, girlie," Lathel said, giving Sam a hard look. "Tennessee's a mean sumbitch, and he's a

collector--

you try to run, he'll just find you and bring you back. He likes having a pack, but we're not pack-mates, we're his fucking

pets

."

"Then, why doesn't

everybody

just leave?"

"And go where, huh?" The brunette, a tan woman who hadn't said a word the whole time, frowned at Sam from her seat on a nearby log. "Maybe you had

your

pick of the litter out in Cali, but some of us weren't so lucky as you. Don't come in and think you can tell us what to do."

Sam wanted to argue, but Phil cut her off: "Claudia, Sam's just a guest, she ain't trying to boss anybody around. But it's getting late, so let's all get back to the House for now. Not like anything else is going to get accomplished tonight."

It was an unpleasant way to end a meeting. After throwing enough dirt on the smoldering flames to snuff them out for good and then covering the ashes in more wet dirt and clay for safety's sake, the group shed their skins for wet fur and hurried back to the old diner. Sam followed Phil inside, with Wren right on her heels. She'd expected Tennessee to do something malicious like smash the building's windows or set it on fire, but the restaurant and the contents inside were all undisturbed.

The solitary concrete room at the back of the building served as an impromptu mudroom for everyone coming in, allowing them to shake off the excess moisture from their fur before coming inside and sliding back into humanoid form again. Thick cotton towels were stored under the bar for just such an occasion, and Sam managed to get most of the excess moisture out of her hair and she quickly dressed before the others: nakedness appeared to be the routine there, something she appreciated, but they

were

still strangers to her, in the end.

Phil said his goodbyes and led Sam outside while the rest of the pack lingered inside to talk. There was a large awning over the entrance and both father and daughter lingered there. The black SUV she'd spotted upon their arrival was gone.

"Are we waiting for something?" Sam asked after a few moments.

"Just showing good manners, Sam," he answered. "It can't be an easy choice that they're having to make, but if it's quick, it'll be easier for them to tell me if I wait."

"I still don't get why they don't just disband the pack or find some other meeting place."

Her dad was already shaking his head. "Don't work that way. These people all live near here; most probably work near here. This is home to them, their home turf. Only way to break away from a pack is to physically move away from it or be banished. Claudia was right: some of them don't

have

anywhere else to go."

"How'd you get picked to be leader if you didn't want the job?"

"I'm one of the oldest members, age-wise," he said with a shrug. "The job just fell in my lap, I guess. I didn't plan on keeping it for very long--I'd planned on bringing it up for discussion after the moon passed. You can see how well

that

worked out."

"I guess." Sam frowned. "And what was with that guy, anyway? I didn't know werewolves--" She turned up her nose at the term "--

actually

changed into big, hulking..."

"...werewolves?" Phil suggested.

"Well,

I

don't know how to do that."

"You've been changing for two years, Sam. It's not easy to do; most of the pack can't do it. It takes practice, effort, mental discipline--you're taking two completely distinct parts of your personality, throwing them in a blender, and hitting the purée button. Some things just ain't

meant

to blend together."

"What's with the scar? It looked...painful." Sam shifted her borrowed helmet from one hand to the other.

"Silver buckshot--double-aught, 12-gauge. Point blank shot."

Sam's eyes went wide. "Shit. He

shot

himself?"

"Hell no, honey.

I

shot him." Phil's smirk was wicked. "Only got one shot off, but once was enough."

"Holy shit."

Phil grunted. "Tennessee Watkins is no joke, Sam. I'd have

liked

to blow off the back of his head instead, but--"

The door behind them opened, cutting Phil off as Wren stepped out, dressed again in his coveralls and dirty ball cap. He looked unhappy.

"So, what's the word?" Phil asked.

"Susie and Lathel voted to run," Wren said.

"Which one is she?" Sam asked.

"Redhead."

Not again, not again, not again,

Sam heard, echoing in her memory. "Ah--I should've guessed."

"The rest of us ain't letting Tenn come back unless he rips out our throats first." The two men stared at one another for a long moment, as rain drummed atop the awning over their heads. "Will you help?"

Phil sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing them hard with both eyes. "Damnit Wren, I'm too

old

for this shit."

"Phil, I

tried

to tell them--!"

"Look, don't...don't worry about it. Can you take Samantha home for me? I need to make another stop."

"You're leaving me?" Sam said with a frown.

"Just let Wren take you home, I'll make it up to you." Phil was already pulling his helmet on. "I'll try not be long."

"So that's a yes." Sam rolled her eyes. "The big, bad bully rolls back into town and everybody goes all macho and mysterious. Awesome."

"It'll be fine, Sam. Lock the doors when you get home. You've got my number." Phil gave as much of a smile as the helmet would allow, then slid down his visor, wiped as much excess rain as he could off the seat, climbed on and was out of the parking lot in moments, roaring up the highway and out of sight.