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Chapter 12

B y the time Gordon left 43 Ruthaven—on foot, even though Carol had tried with a beacon of a smile to get his permission to call him a taxi—the sun had vanished behind a canopy of clouds that threatened rain. Gordon was happy with that. He liked rain better than sunshine these days.

He also spotted the first wolves out and about, having shifted already and running alone or in small groups, weaving between New Amsterdamers who didn’t budge or care and the odd tourist who flinched at the massive canines.

Back on the West Coast, the wolves would often gather on beaches and howl out toward the waves and the glistening ocean on full moon nights. Some packs did cookouts, more for human friends and family really, but from what Gordon knew, these events were big parties once a month.

But in a lot of cities, the wolves restricted themselves to weaving between pedestrians, running wild on the sidewalks or wherever else they safely could. With most places having lifted restrictions against howling during the full moon, they could greet the moon in their way this one night a month.

It’s strange how you never really see a thing until you see a thing, Gordon thought when a large gray wolf walked down the sidewalk across from him, ears straight, then twitching when they reacted to one of the many sounds of the city. The wolf looked at him briefly but didn’t pay him much more attention than that, trotting on to wherever they were going.

I wonder what Adler looks like in his wolf form. Gordon decided to walk back to his apartment, which was closer than the Forum, and do some reading, maybe pull a few files on the Ripper from the database.

He couldn’t help but replay the way Adler had acted earlier, and he also couldn’t help wondering whether maybe he, Gordon, had overreacted. To be fair everyone knows wolves can get a bit strange around the full moon. And he had never dated one before—not that he was doing so now, he reminded himself—but perhaps he would maybe go on one single date with Adler before he made up his mind, just one. If he still wants to. I ran twice already. At which point Gordon recalled a visiting professor—an old vampire—who had talked to Gordon and his classmates of the Forum’s Supernatural Science class about inter-species relationships.

The professor had classed them thusly: probable, improbable, and impossible.

Probable were vampire and fae unions because, according to the professor, both approached life with a similar outlook, and fae lived long enough to spend a considerable amount of time with their vampire, assuming—and the professor, being a vampire himself, did so assume—the vampire was suited to a long life.

Unions between fae and human the professor classed as probable only if both parties were in agreement it was a short-term arrangement. The union could work if the fae in question was polyamorous, mostly one looking to expand their experiences and not overly bothered by the human’s eventual decline. If those conditions were not met, it was an improbable union.

Human and wolf could be probable as well. Such a union was likely to work with long-lived humans, and if the wolf found a human early on. The professor mentioned these unions were particularly unobjectionable since in about fifty percent of the cases, the offspring of such a couple could be expected to be wolves. It was, he said, one of those mixings humans accepted readily enough.

Vampire and human unions were probable only if the vampire entered it with the goal of turning the human sooner rather than later, thus making it a “standard” union. If the human party was unsuitable to it, it became an improbable union, one he cautioned against in order to avoid the pain of losing the attachment and watching the human decline and die.

Impossible unions were fae and wolf and vampire and wolf. The fae and wolf unions hardly ever worked because no fae would accept a social structure the way a wolf could and had to, and no wolf would abandon their social group to follow their fae. Wolf and vampire unions often made for easy aggression, the professor had cautioned, and vampires again would not easily follow pack demands of wolves.

Even at the time, Gordon had wondered about this professor’s convictions, but he had been young then and had since encountered more of the same, not everywhere, but enough to make it a pattern. He didn’t like the prejudice of it, found it almost physically uncomfortable to hear people talk like that.

Maxim was a refreshing example of a different world view. In fact, Gordon would pay money to see that same professor give that same talk with Maxim Vallois in attendance. He had a sense the Q it was hard to tell which, but wolf-Adler lay down in what Gordon thought of as a very neat manner, head up and ears facing forward, paws laid one next to the other. He looked almost like a canine sphinx, except he had velvety dark fur and beautiful eyes and cute ears that pointed up to the night sky. Why do I want to tug on his ears? That’s wrong . He’s not a puppy.

“So I guess I’m keeping you from the pack, huh,” Gordon said.

The Adler-wolf shook his head before he lowered it on his arms—or was it legs now?—and looked up at Gordon.

Wonderful. More awkwardness. This could go on forever. What was I thinking? And perhaps because Gordon was feeling a bit nostalgic, he thought about his maker, a considerate but also hands-off vampire. One piece of advice his maker had been sure to give Gordon before leaving when Gordon was still a young vampire had been this: Whenever possible, cut through the bullshit. Whenever not, be kind.

Well, on the plus side , Gordon thought, he can’t talk back .

Gordon cleared his throat, preparing to speak. Telling Maxim should have made it easier for the words to come out, but it wasn’t. It would be much easier to keep silent, but Gordon knew that he would have to tell Adler at some point. Whether it was Maxim’s fault or the shadow of Gordon’s loneliness, he had decided to give Adler another chance somewhere between the bar and the bench he was currently sitting on. And Adler would have to know about Paula. If whatever they might have was supposed to have any chance at all of succeeding, Gordon would have to tell him.

Gordon took a final, deep breath. “My sister was killed by a jerk who called himself her boyfriend. He was a jealous, controlling ass who made Paula think she deserved his beatings because of some little thing she did, because she talked to me over the phone or considered coming back home for Thanksgiving. Seeing strangulation in a victim of domestic abuse is the number one precursor to seeing them getting murdered, but you probably knew that.” Gordon shrugged.

That got wolf-Adler agitated. He stood, growled, then jumped onto the bench. All of a sudden, he was close, and Gordon could smell Adler, an earthy scent, a wolf scent, and then the large wolf whined before rubbing his head against Gordon’s shoulder.

Well, what in the fuck. I can’t pet him, or can I? He’s bigger than me, and he isn’t a dog, not that anyone could forget with the sheer size of him .

Adler’s warmth felt strange, and Gordon remembered wolves’ body temperatures were elevated during the full moon, about 2 Kelvin or 4 Fahrenheit as compared to humans, about double that when compared to his own, cooler, vampiric self. I don’t exactly hate this, though, Gordon thought and lifted his hand to brush along wolf-Adler’s side. The fur was incredibly soft, but the body underneath that softness was broad and strong. No wonder. His paws must be bigger than my hands.

Adler pulled his head back up and moved closer to Gordon. Wolf-Adler’s eyes were bright as they searched Gordon’s face.

“I don’t talk about it,” Gordon said. “I don’t like talking about it or thinking about it.” He shrugged. “Earlier in the morgue, the autopsy, and then you getting jealous, that just made me remember.”

The Adler-wolf whined, louder this time, and lowered his head until his forehead came to rest on Gordon’s thigh.

“So that’s that,” Gordon said, resisting the urge to scratch Adler behind his ears. “Uhm, I guess I’ll head home now.” The wolf looked up at him, those pale jade eyes arresting. Gordon didn’t look away. “I suppose you have running to do. And howling. All the wolf clichés.”

Gordon got up off the bench, and wolf-Adler did as well. “I’ll see you around, Adler. You can call me. I’ll pick up.”

Gordon walked in the general direction of the closest subway station, but rather than running off into the now night-darkened park that was alive with wolves playing in the shadows, wolf-Adler fell in step on Gordon’s right. Some of the human and wolf joggers passed them by, the humans’ reflective clothes catching the park’s lights.

Across the grass, Gordon could make out picnickers, one of them fae, all of them surrounded by wolves, and smiling, sharing food and stories. “It’s really an event, huh,” Gordon said. “The full moon I mean.”

He looked at wolf-Adler who gave a small bark and nodded. He was close enough for Gordon to still feel the heat of his body.

“Makes me think vampires should party more.”

That got him another wolf-chuckle and nod.

Ahead, three younger wolves, more pups than adolescent, had surrounded a swan, who was hissing and threatening them with wide-open wings. The pups took turns dashing at the swan, trying to nip at his feet. Adler ran toward them and growled at the unruly young wolves, who yowled and lowered their heads before they ran off. The roused swan tried to bite Adler, which just went to show that swans were more mean than intelligent. With a look from Adler, the swan made for the water.

Moments later, Adler was back at Gordon’s side. “I can see there are things to do here, waterfowl to save. You don’t need to walk me to the subway, Adler.” Gordon meant that even if it was nice having such a big wolf next to him. However, the wolf just snorted and kept pace with Gordon.

He walked to the station with Gordon, down the steps and past a violin player, who nodded at Gordon when he dropped a bill in her case. Her eyes lingered on the large black wolf.

Adler stood next to Gordon when they had reached the platform, and he walked straight onto the car with Gordon when the train stopped and opened its doors.

The subway was empty, but a wolf wouldn’t have drawn a lot of stares even if it had been full. It just wasn’t such an unusual sight, though Adler certainly was a looker. Probably more because he’s big and beautiful with the shiny fur and the shimmery eyes .

A preschooler sitting next to their father even waved at Adler and the wolf waved back at them with his huge right paw. It got the kid to smile wide, as did their father.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Gordon said quietly.

The Adler-wolf somehow managed to shrug at that.

When Gordon got off the train, Adler followed along. What is this? Is he walking me home? Everything about this is just plain weird.

It was still plain weird when they got to Gordon’s door.

“This is me,” Gordon said. “And you look suspiciously like you have no interest in leaving.”

Adler whine-growled and looked up at Gordon with beseeching eyes.

“Well, fine. I suppose I could offer you a bowl of water.”

Adler growl-chuckled.

Gordon opened the door, held it for Adler. Gordon’s apartment was among the larger in the Art Nouveau building he’d called home for the last thirty years or so. While Gordon loved a clean lab, he hated cleaning his home. So he had invested in a cleaning lady who came by once a week, and because she was good, she even got to clean the room in which Gordon housed his collection. She kept the place spotless. Rarely have I been happier about hiring her , Gordon thought when he turned his key in the lock.

Gordon turned on a few lights along the hallway and in the large living room whose walls were solidly filled bookshelves. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get that bowl,” Gordon said.

All while I figure out how this day ended with me inviting a werewolf into my home.