Les Loups-garous au Clair de Lune
#43 of The Moonrise Chronicles
Needless to say, two rare rings
found their way onto the nightstands as two very eager lovers decided to relax
and enjoy each other's company in a non-feral way. They chose to be "normal"
this time around just in case someone from the hotel entered while there were
engaged. It would be easier to explain away their conduct as humans than it
would as anything else.
That didn't prohibit him from
making a few adjustments to his anatomy. It was amazing how much easier the
ring had made it. He was already missing it. But he persevered and made a
reasonable sized cock with the ability to knot. He wasn't going to get stupid
about it, even if she wanted it.
They locked their rooms as tightly
as they could, just in case. Edward even moved a rather heavy dresser in front
of the outside doors. It wouldn't keep out the most determined werewolf, but it
would give them a moment's warning. So they were able to relax at least a little.
Maggie was for going all out.
Edward wanted to build up to things. She sighed and grabbed him around his
neck, kissing him soundly. "I'll go along with it for now. But don't you dare
bore me!"
"Oh I'll bore you all right. I'll
bore you right between the legs."
She giggled in that girlish way
that suggested she was emotionally younger than she really was. It more than
matched her present human body. It always made him a little nervous when he put
his mind to it, so he didn't bother any more. There was no point. She had
proved herself to be his match, and more often, to be superior to his intellect.
She could handle herself in many different situations.
He kissed her lips and worked down
her neck to her chest. Her breasts were still developing, and if her aging was
anything like Verona's, she was going to be at this stage for a long time. He
was getting used to it. She was a tough little scrapper, and since she could
handle him in all his phases, what more could he ask for?
He worked his fingers into her wet
hole as he ran his tongue along her side, across her belly and back up to her
chest. It was nice being able to be a bit more normal once in a while. He
licked her nipples and then moved back down to her belly. His fingers were
working up her insides, and she was clamping down on his digits with an iron
grip.
She couldn't help but tease him a
little and therefore changed her crotch to something a bit more feral. His
fingers curled up inside as he searched for that perfect spot. She clamped down
again, showing him who was boss. He ignored her and kept right on playing.
She finally gave up and eased back
against the bed, allowing him his fun. It wasn't all bad, but she was an
impatient lover, wanting to get to the heart of the matter sooner rather than
later. This slow and methodical stuff was going to kill her!
Of course, his tongue was nice. And
when it went down to her crotch, she made sure to enhance all of her nerve
endings. His second and third licks sent
fire through her veins! The fourth and she was blind with lust. Her claws (they
had grown uncalled upon by her consciousness) dug into his scalp.
He ignored the pain, knowing that
he'd heal soon enough. He worked over her damp hole like a starving man eats
his first meal in weeks. He rolled up his tongue, and since she had cheated, so
did he. He created a long wolf tongue and stuck it up inside her. He went into
a frenzy of internal licks until she screamed for him to stop. He didn't. Her
claws dug into his scalp until they hit his skull. He managed to fight back the
pain, turning it into pleasure. Werewolf's were sort of weird like that. No
wonder she liked things rough. With the flick of an internal switch you could
turn anything into pleasure.
He only stopped when he noticed
that she was turning feral. It had to be a natural reaction, because she seemed
like she was too out of it to be doing it on purpose. Oh well, sex with a werewolf
it was. It was as close to bestiality he figured he would ever get, before
remembering the wolves back in New York. Maybe he had done more than he
remembered. He might have to go back and check it out.
As it was, he climbed up and nailed
her with a single stroke. She was wet and slippery ,being so ready for him she
would never have been able to put it into words. Her howl said it all. He drove
it in and knotted it up in one fluid motion. They were stuck together nice and
tight. He intended to make it last for quite a while.
Her fur, while looking dark and
forbidding, was soft and luxurious. He ran his hands through it, from her neck
to her crotch. He arranged her legs to avoid getting nailed by those wicked
claws. His head was already healing, but he didn't feel like going through it
any more than that which wasn't avoidable. Prevention was definitely worth a
pound of cure!
He was sitting on top of her tail,
and it was again lashing like a cat's as he ground his hips into her pelvis. She was wearing a smile, though in this form
it was hard to tell how much of one. Her hands kept changing from normal to
feral. They finally stopped somewhere halfway. She put them around his neck
again, and he prepared for pain. But she pulled herself up and changing her
face ever so slightly, gave him a lick and then a kiss.
"You know father, I think I could
get into world traveling. I might have to find a few more rich bad guys to bump
off!"
"I might just let you little one.
But we still have things to worry about, so why not forget about them for now?'
"Oh I have. I was thinking about
us, and this. This isn't so bad, is it?"
"No, no its not." And it wasn't. He
was still worrying about a possible intrusion into their privacy, but it never
materialized. So for the next three hours they tested the limits of the bed,
and of themselves. He eventually dropped the knot in favor of being able to do long
strokes. Of course, where he took mass from the knot, he added it elsewhere. Since
there were no complaints, he took the silence as assent.
The head of his cock was now noticeably
larger, and it seemed to be doing a great job in rubbing her the right way. It was driving him crazy too. It was big
enough that he was pretty sure it wouldn't have fit in there from the outside. Pulling back he found he was correct. He was
stuck in a different way.
She opened her eyes and gave him a
wink. "I felt what you did there. You keep this up and I'll never let you bed
Verona again."
"You make that sound like a bad
thing."
She gave him a wink. "No, but you can't
ignore her either. She needs you as much as I do."
He pushed the idea out of his head
for the moment. Verona was nice, but his heart was Maggie's. And so was
everything else at the moment. He drove
it home for another hour, coming in a grand finale of convulsing bodies and
creaking wood. The bed groaned as he
finished so violently he thought she was surely going to be hurting. It never
happened. She came, and when it was over, lay there with a smile on her face. When they finally fell asleep, it was a deep
and comforting unconsciousness that lasted well into late morning.
They stayed in Rome for a few more
days, largely waiting for the cardinal to make an appearance. His lack of
enthusiasm in searching for them made Edward nervous. It was almost as if he
were taking his loss all too easily. Each passing daymade him more nervous. It wasn't that he and Maggie couldn't take
care of themselves. He simply didn't want to wreck this nice hotel during their
predictably destructive engagement.
One day though, Maggie had enough
waiting. "I have an errand I want to run. I don't know how long I'll be, so if
I were you I'd assume that it'll take all day. I want you to buy a car, something
that will blend in with our surroundings and get us to where we are going in
France. Got it?"
"Got it!"
She went off, carrying a long
portfolio tube, and he went down to talk with the concierge. Edward told him
what he was looking for, and he gave him several ideas. He made a few calls,
including one for a taxi, eventually being whisked away to a little out of the
way place that catered to the discriminating eye.
She actually got back to the hotel
before he did. He pulled up and the doorman had someone park his new ride. He had thought that he had looked pleased, but
she looked like the cat that got the mouse. He remarked on it. "It looks like someone had
a good day!"
She was all over herself with
excitement. "Oh, you had better believe it."
Such enthusiasm was normally
reserved for killing; either before the attack or after the fact. She was
clean, and not disheveled, so he was left wondering what the source of her glee
was. He had a feeling she was going to make him drag it out of her.
"So father, what kind of car did
you buy us? Hopefully nothing expensive and showy! We're trying to keep a low
profile remember."
"Oh, I think you'll like it. It's a
local make, and I bought a used one so that you didn't think I was being
wasteful with your money."
"Our money! And I'm sure I'll like
whatever you got. So do you want to know my news?"
"With the way you're acting, you
had better believe it!"
"I dropped in on someone today."
He immediately went on his guard.
"You didn't try taking on Cardinal Medici alone did you?"
She smiled and wiggled some more.
"Yes and no."
"Explain..."
"Remember the papal bulla?"
"Yeah. Is that what you took with
you today?"
"Yep! I figured there might be
someone who would be interested in seeing it."
"An antique dealer? A book
collector?"
"No! They would never accept
anything like that. No, I took it to the one man I figured would be interested
in having it."
"I give up. Who?"
She wrinkled her face in that look
that said, I pulled a big coup. "Do you know who Jorge Bergoglio is?"
"Can't say that I do."
"Most people won't recognize the
name either, even if they know the man."
"And he is..." She was getting good
at getting under his skin.
"The present pope."
He was floored. "Oh shit! How did
you get in to see him?"
"How else? An open window. He's a
very sweet man. He even cancelled a couple of his appointments to talk with me.
I told him all about the bulla, and of course handed it to him. He was very surprised, and even more so when
I told him from where I retrieved it. He had never heard of Cardinal Medici, nor
did he know anything about those underground chambers. Before I left, he had priests
running in and out like it was a fire sale on halos. I think I disrupted the
whole structure of the church today."
"Mags, it's a wonder someone didn't
try shooting you!"
"The pope is a nice fellow. Did you
know he's from Argentina? I thought popes had to be old white guys from Europe.
He's seems like a man of his word."
"Why, what did he tell you he was
going to do?"
"Investigate. I even managed to
find the door leading to the dungeon again, and he was there with like twenty
cardinals and clerics, plus a few guys in dark suits. They finally rounded up
the man with the keys and he looked like he was going to pass out."
"What happened after that?" This
was getting good.
"I left. I figured I'd let them
handle Cardinal Me-dorki. I have a feeling that he is going to be busy
answering an awful lot of questions for a very long time."
"Did you tell them he was a
werewolf?"
"Hell no! Then they would have
never taken me seriously unless I changed in front of them. I just made up a
story about being kidnapped and escaping. The bulla was my evidence. So now,
with any luck, the pope will dismantle this stupid league, or whatever it is,
and we can live slightly more normal lives."
"That's a sweet thought, so I'll go
with it for now. "
"What? Do you think he'll come
after us?"
"Maggie, if someone took your
life's work and trashed it, what would you do?"
"But he'll be busy dealing with the
pope!"
I loved the girl, but there were
times when her lack of experience was a real detriment. On the other hand, I
didn't figure we were ever going to be getting out of this scot-free. What I
really needed to know was more about the rings. The boxes didn't mean a whole
lot. The one we opened had a ring in it, but the leather envelopes were packed
in snugly. Shaking them like there were Christmas presents wasn't going to
work. I mean, did the cardinal have a ring of his own? He may have gotten one
of these boxes open. Or did he have a ring that had lost its box? There were
too many questions.
On the other hand, what could he
do? If he was invulnerable and so were we, any battle we had was going to be a
stalemate. So it was a game of poker and a game of chess combined. The trick
was going to be getting out of Italy without him knowing. I had a feeling that
leaving now was going to be better than waiting. If he was occupied with the
pope, then we had the advantage. It was going to be a smart thing to take that
to heart. We might have already wasted precious time.
"Maybe he will, but if being a
werewolf is more important to him than his religious position, then yes, he
will come after us. And he will have a lot of advantages. He is older, more
educated, and more experienced."
She frowned. "I didn't think of
that. I guess we had better get packed."
Several hours later we were at the
front desk. Someone brought the car around. Maggie looked at it, then at me.
"Really? This?"
"Don't you like it?"
"It's not the Rover, but I suppose
it's...cute."
It was a red, 1958 Alfa Romeo Giulietta
Veloce Spider. The little two door convertible was completely restored. He had
even talked the seller into allowing him to have it with the present license plates.
That was good, because he would never have been able to validate it in getting
new ones. He told the previous owner he were going to France and would get
French plates once he was there. He was believed but of course, he had paid
over the asking price. That helped.
They packed their few belongings
into the trunk, which is incredible considering they came to the hotel with
essentially nothing. He had maps that
the hotel got for them, because a GPS unit was going to be in Italian. The last
time he checked he didn't speak Italian. Then again, he didn't speak French, so
this trip was going to prove to be interesting when they had to stop. The journey
was going to take around fourteen hours, so stops were going to be inevitable.
He headed off, working his way out
of Rome and traveling northwest towards the border with France. The trip was
lovely, and while the car did get them noticed, all the admirers seemed more interested
in the car than in them. It was a sweet little number, and while he could have
gone with something more modern and faster, he really couldn't speed without
attracting notice. Besides he had a feeling he could unload this little guy in
France much easier than many other vehicles.
They might need cash before they moved on to Russia. If they moved on to
Russia. That was in the future.
The trip was, rather unexpectedly,
without incident. The only layover was about two thirds of the way to their
destination. They had left late enough in the day that they were never going to
make it to da Vinci's tomb by nightfall. So they looked for a place to stay,
and failing at that, pulled into an old abandoned farmhouse that was in a sad
state of disrepair.
They had food, a parting gift from
the hotel, and if they transformed, they would hardly need the finer things
like beds or blankets. A werewolf in feral form had thick fur and didn't much
care about things like chilly night air or darkness.
He pulled the car around the back
and they crawled through a hole in the wall and settled down inside. It was nearly
dark, but with their enhanced vision, the dim light was more than enough. The place was empty, with the exception of the
presence of a few wild animals and birds. It wasn't romantic, yet it was so far
from any other person that for them, it was ideal. There were no worries to be
had, and that was a blessing.
After their meal, they stripped and
transformed; him into a small, normal sized wolf, and she in her slightly
smaller version of the same. She was happily surprised, as he had not let on to
this aspect of his new abilities.
"Nice! I like extremes, but there
is nothing wrong with a little size compatibility. What say we take a little
time and go romp in the meadows?"
The idea was appealing. Being on
edge in the hotel had been a bit like being in a gilded prison. It was nice,
but always left them wondering if someone was going to ruin it all. The feeling
had hung over their heads for days. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they could
be who and what they wanted to be.
They were both in the mood for
intimacy, but they opted to follow their noses and their instincts instead. There was a lovely moon in the dark, star-studded sky. THis was yet another foreign country, and one which they could explore on several
levels while they were here. As ferals they could run amok, scaring the sheep
and maybe even a local or two. It might prove fun. And since they both had
their rings, they could come out of it none the worse than if they were playing
it safe.
It was about twenty miles from the
abandoned farmhouse that they first ran into something akin to trouble. It turned into a situation that neither of
them was expecting, though there was no real reason for their obtuse lack of
foreknowledge. After all, Edward's family tree had roots back to here, even if
it had been a long time ago.
They ran into a pack of wolves. In
America, they would have encountered them in the wild pretty much only in
national parks. Here in France, it was startling to say the least. The only
ones more upset by the meeting were the locals. Hairs bristled and fangs were
bared. Edward kept his cool and exerted his full range of pheromones. The pack suddenly went silent and sat down, looking attentive.
Except for two that is.
A pair of wolves came forward. It
was immediately obvious that they did not belong. It wasn't the fur or the
teeth, nor the tails or overall size. It was the glowing red eyes. And the
smell. On the other paw, their noses were sniffing the air eagerly. Their tails
began wagging so fast they became a blur.
"Who are you?" asked Maggie in wolf-tongue. The
excitement in her voice was palpable.
"Who are you?" came back the retort
in wolf-speak.
"My name is Maggie. This is
Edward." She opted now to refrain from saying he was her father. It seemed to
be an easy fact to establish that they weren't related.
The one wolf looked to the other.
"It's not possible."
Maggie reverted to her scariest
looking form. "What's not possible?"
The other two mimicked her change,
looking more fearsome. Edward wasn't up
for playing games. He could tell already that these other two were young; maybe
not as young a Maggie, but nonetheless immature. And he had too much on his
mind to be out here playing let's see who
can bluff the best.
He transformed. He went from a mere
normal looking wolf to a massive, feral, hulking creature that was perfectly suitable
as a stand-in for the Devil's nightmares. His eyes went blood red, and his
voice became a clap of thunder mixed with the howl of a hurricane. "Enough! You
know who we are. Who are you?"
One wolf wet all over the ground
while the other covered its ears. Belatedly, Edward realized that his growl had
probably been heard miles away across the rolling countryside. Oh well, there
was little he could do now.
"Don't hurt us!" They cried in
unison.
He morphed back down to his normal
size. "I have no intention of it. But I will not sit outside and play games
with children. So either shut up and leave or tell us who you are." He almost
felt sorry for losing his patience. It was probably a pretty rare thing for
them to find others of the kind. But he was impatient. Anything new was
beginning to alarm him more and more. For that matter, they might even be in
the employ of the cardinal. He hated being suspicious, but the fact was, the
deeper he got into this mess, the more he was going to be wary.
They looked up to see him back to
normal. They glanced at one another and exchanged looks of incredulity. "I am Emile,
and this is my sister Corinne. But who are you? I mean really, who are you?
Your accent, even for a wolf, is strange."
"We are from America, just now
having left Italy."
They glanced at each other again.
"Italy? You are not with the hunters are you?"
He sucked in a breath. If they knew
of the hunters, then perhaps they were being persecuted too. He doubted they
knew anything about rings, but he didn't know what to think anymore. "No, we
are not with the werewolf hunters. In fact, thanks to Maggie here, they might
even be a thing of the past now."
They looked at each other and
shrugged. "We don't know what you're talking about. We mean the men with guns
and nets and traps."
That was something new. They
finally figured it out as there being two opposing groups, those trying to save
the wolves and those trying to eliminate them. It seems the presence of wolves
in France was a relatively new occurrence. That explained a little, but not
what was going on with these two of the kind.
They invited them back to the farmhouse, and they followed willingly,
chattering the whole distance.
Once back at the house, they
transformed, but only for a few minutes. It was funny to find out that as
wolves they could communicate, but as humans it wasn't so easy. He and Maggie
knew English, and the siblings spoke French. Edward had never considered that
before. It was very strange. So everyone sat around as a miniature pack of
wolves. It would have made an odd sight to be sure. Edward's presence dominated
the conversation. "I know you're curious about us, but I am going to have to
insist that you go first with your story. If I find I have reason to trust you,
then maybe I will tell you a little more about why we're here."
Emile would have shrugged if his
wolf form would have allowed it. "We are on our own. We are twins, and when we
became the oddities you see here, we were thrown out of the house. Since then we
learned to survive like this, we never looked back. We took up with these real
wolves, and they have been our family ever since. We didn't know there were
others like us. We figured it was some sort of curse."
Maggie growled with laughter.
"Curse? Sometimes. But lately it has been a little more tolerable. Edward is
both my adoptive father and my..."
His growl cut her off. "...he's my
friend and confidant. We have discovered some things about our past and we are
here to search for more answers."
Corrine was wagging her tail,
stirring up little clouds of dust. "This is so cool! How many of us are there
out there in the world?"
Edward, who was still nervous about
these two, couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "We don't know for sure.
A few, and not all good. So I would suggest you'd better be on your guard after
this."
"We are always on our guard. But
unlike our friends in the pack, we can change to our original forms."
He had noticed their original forms
during their brief reversion earlier. Emile was a fine sculpted specimen of
young manhood, and his sister was equally lovely to look at, with flowing black
hair. They looked to be around seventeen but he knew that their ages were
probably older. Of them all, he was the only one likely showing a physical
appearance equal to his actual physical age.
"You mentioned other hunters?"
"Yes. These wolves are part of a
pack that moved in from Italy some twenty years ago. Of course, our borders
mean nothing to them. But the locals are upset because we all must eat, and
then animals die."
"Like humans?"
They looked abashed. "Yes, for us.
We never want to get our friends in trouble, so we find the unwanteds and kill
them. They can be content with sheep and goats."
"Unwanteds?"
"Gypsies. Thieves. Killers. People whose
deaths do not prompt much interest or action."
Camiile looked pitiful. "It's not
our fault. We can't seem to eat normal food. We've tried."
"I know. There might be a way
around it, but I don't know if it's permanent or not."
"We would do anything to be able to
be normal again!"
He spoke softly and kindly. "I didn't
say you could go back to being normal. But we are working with something right now
that seems to make life better for us as werewolves."
"You mean loup-garous," said
Corinne.
"I know it as rougarou."
Emile cocked his head. "Rougarou;
yes that is another term for us. Some say we are nothing more than killing beasts.
But we have feelings to. It's hard when your only friends have four legs. Only the
wolves seem to understand our predicament."
Maggie popped into the conversation
with a start. "I know! Why don't you come with us? We'll treat you like equals,
and then you'll have some company."
Edward was less than pleased, but
he said nothing. Their car as perfectly sized for two, but not for more than that. Maybe he
would come up with a better idea come morning. So for the night, they called it
quits. Still, he kept one eye open all night. He was suddenly the impromptu father
to three werewolves, and he found it made him uneasy.