Among Wolves Read online

  AMONG WOLVES

  Book 3 of the Wolf-Shifter Series

  G.A.HAUSER

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2013

  AMONG WOLVES

  Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2013

  Cover Photography by Tuta Veloso

  Cover design by Adrienne Wilder

  Artwork by G.A. Hauser

  Cover model: Andre Luis

  www.andreflagger.com.br

  ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1492-7556-0-9

  © The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  WARNING

  This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

  First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

  October 2013

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  ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER

  Tuta Veloso was born in May 1969, in Minas Gerais, Brazil. Since childhood Tuta has connected with arts reciting poetry in first grade and acting in children's theater and teaching Lambada dance in his teens around his hometown, Patos de Minas. At age of 18, he moved to the capital city of Minas Gerais, Belo Horizonte, to study art restoration. To pay for his studies he worked with fashion designers where he helped photographers create catalogs for the fashion industry.

  His own awakening as a photographer was in August of 2001 after moving to the United States and shooting the Twin Towers in NYC. That photo was the beginning of his passion. Tuta has been influenced by such artists as Mark Seliger, Andrew Suckerman, Stephen Wilkes, Scavullo, Sebastião Salgado, Marcos Prado, William Wegman and Vik Muniz.

  Tuta has continued to hone his craft and has shown his art work at Storks Bakery, 101 Art Gallery, Art Expression Gallery, Stonewall library, ArtServe Fort Lauderdale, The Firm Fitness Center, The Naked Grape Wine Bar, Dennis Dean Galleries, Tom Rossetti Art Gallery, Fort Lauderdale Art Museum, The Projects, Gallery Jenner, and Sheuat and Green Art Studio In 2011. He was nominated for the best Visual Artist at The Brazilian International Press Award.

  TUTA' S AWARDS

  "BOY TOY" Peoples' Choice Award United and Proud 2009

  "ABORTION" People's Choice Award Artexplosion' 10 2010

  "BEST COFFEE" First place "Urban Realism" at Dennis Dean Galleries Photo Contest. 2010

  http://www.tutaveloso.com/biography.php

  Chapter 1

  Charlie Mosby, reckoned himself to be just a cowboy who loved his home, his horses, and his man; ATF Agent Roman Burk.

  But Charlie was anything but…just a cowboy.

  He entered the stable which was one of the outbuildings on his and Roman's two hundred acre ranch in Washoe County, Nevada. It was close enough to Reno for Roman to commute to work, yet kept Charlie and their friend and ranch hand, Butch Crowell, happy. Happy to be in the wilderness, near the Anaho Island National Park.

  Since it was December, Butch was wearing his beige cowboy hat and brown boots, blue jeans, and a heavy fleece jacket. He was cleaning the ice and snow from his horse, Scout's hooves. They hosted trail rides in the countryside, and also bred horses for auction.

  "Hey, boss." Butch smiled at Charlie as he walked in.

  "Damn cold." Charlie folded the collar up higher on his coat, his breath a puff of vapor as he spoke.

  "Ya know the weather's all screwed up." Butch released one of his horse's back legs and stood straight, adjusting his hat. "I think this year we'll break records for cold nights."

  Charlie began feeding the horses, using a bucket to fill with oats and going stall to stall.

  "Is Roman going to be home on time?" Butch asked, refocusing on cleaning the packed snow from his horse's shoes.

  "I assume so. I haven't heard from him." Charlie set the bucket down and took his phone out of his pocket. "Nope. No text. So he should be home for dinner."

  "Vernon wants us all to go to his place for Christmas. You up for it?"

  "I am. I miss him and Connie." Charlie thought about his old boss. He was a manager of a horse ranch in Heber, Utah. Strange things happened on that ranch. Very strange.

  "Good. I wouldn't mind seein' him and the boys." Butch finished tending Scout, and put the painted horse into a stall, patting its hind quarters.

  "It's easy to lose touch," Charlie said, continuing to make sure the horses' water was not frozen and they had plenty of food.

  "Yeah, Hal and JP ain't much for texting." Butch laughed and swept the cement floor.

  Charlie smiled to himself and then glanced at the twenty-one year old young man. He and Butch had their differences in the past, mostly over the running of Vernon Norman's ranch, but things were different now. Better. "Why don't you call Dan from down the way and see if his boys can keep an eye on things here while we're gone."

  Butch nodded, setting the broom aside. "How long ya think we'll be away?"

  "Just three days. I can't ask his boys to do everythin' around here for us."

  "We could hire some of our part time men to stay at the house while we go. Seems a waste visitin' for such a short while."

  "Ya know you can always go by yerself and see them anytime." Charlie adjusted his black cowboy hat and brushed his leather gloves off, seeing the dry dust of the oats forming a cloud as he clapped.

  Butch smiled sweetly. "What? Go without you an' Roman? What fun would that be?"

  "Oh, I don't know." Charlie approached the handsome young man and patted his rump. "I think you can get into plenty of mischief without us."

  "More with you." Butch kissed Charlie's mouth and smiled as he walked out of the barn.

  Charlie watched him leave, seeing the snow falling around him, just light flurries. The trees were bare except for the evergreens, and snow hung heavily on their boughs from the last snowfall.

  Going back to Heber.

  Charlie shivered and it wasn't only from the chill. He finished tending the horses, his mind drifting to the bad old days.

  ~

  Agent Roman Burk checked the time on his watch and finished typing on the computer. His supervisor, Nick Hoffman, walked behind his desk. "You still here?"

  Roman glanced at him and replied, "Just finishing up a request for a warrant for phone records."

  "It's Friday. Go home."

  "Yes, sir." Roman gave Nick a playful salute, and logged off the computer. Lights be
gan to shut off in the larger offices which surrounded the cubicle he was working at. He stood, nudged his chair under the desk and took his black leather jacket from a coat stand nearby. After he put his coat and scarf on, he checked his phone. Nothing from Charlie, so he assumed everything was all right.

  Roman headed out of the building which housed the ATF branch in Reno. He had been on the department for nearly a decade and was only thirty-one years old. That meant he had a long way to go to retire.

  As he found his keys for the commute home, he felt very tired. And he knew why.

  His sleepless nights. He felt as if he could not rest. Dreams, odd dreams, kept him from getting any real solid shuteye, so day after day, he became more exhausted.

  He located his SUV in the employee parking lot and sat behind the wheel. Before he left, he turned on the heat to warm up the interior and called home.

  "Hey."

  "Hey." Roman smiled at the sound of Charlie's voice. "Anything you want me to pick up on my way home?"

  "Naw, we have everythin'. Butch and I went food shopping earlier."

  "Okay. See ya in an hour."

  "Or less if ya speed…and it's snowin' over here. You get hit yet?"

  "No. But by you it usually snows more."

  "Be safe, babe."

  "I will." Roman disconnected the call, backing out of the spot. As he drove from the lot to the main road, he jammed on his brakes, thinking a dog had darted out in front of him. A horn sounded behind him from an irate driver, but Roman could not see the dog now. He gave a good look around and kept driving, feeling a shiver down his spine.

  Distracted, trying not to think disturbing thoughts, Roman turned the music CD louder, ironically, listening to Snow Patrol in the impending snowstorm. The winter nights were long and dark, and as he hit the highway, and advanced towards the mountains, he could see the snowplows coming and going.

  Right before the clouds drew closed over him, he spotted a full moon, white as a spotlight and perfectly rounded.

  His skin rose with goose bumps, and a strange chill rushed over him. The dark, thick clouds obscured the moon and flurries began brushing his windshield. Roman cranked up Chasing Cars, loving the lyrics.

  A familiar feeling began to permeate Roman's senses.

  He hadn't felt it in two years, and hoped he'd never feel it again.

  As the hair stood on his forearms, Roman began to become afraid. He felt his teeth ache. It always seemed to hit his teeth, then his gut.

  "No…" he muttered, knowing he had to make it home, fast, before he felt too sick.

  His focus on the road ahead, the red tail lights from the other cars in front of him, Roman shook his head to clear a sense of doom, and began singing the lyrics of the song, forcing himself to concentrate.

  Image flashes hit him.

  Being on the ATF team, searching an abandoned factory for explosives…

  "No…" Roman had no idea why he was thinking of this now. Why after two years of peace and quiet did he feel this way?

  Inside the factory, in an area at the top of a steel staircase, he had entered a room alone, his rifle in hand, flashlight lit. It was that fateful night raid that brought him so much grief, so much agony.

  As the moon became obscured by the thick snow clouds, Roman was able to battle the sensation that was close to surfacing. He had to make it home to Charlie and Butch. Had to.

  ~

  Charlie stirred a pot of chili he had made for dinner as Butch set the table. He glanced at the wall clock and it read six-thirty. The snow was whipping outside the kitchen window, frosting the sill. Charlie hoped the roads remained clear, and knew Roman had a four-wheel drive SUV. Still, ice would certainly slow the traffic down.

  "Should I pour something for him, Charlie?"

  Charlie glanced over his shoulder at Butch. "Sure. I have a feeling he's had a long week."

  Butch opened a cabinet and filled a shot glass with whiskey.

  Charlie tasted the chili and lowered the flame under it to keep it warm. He opened the oven and removed the homemade cornbread. His former boss' wife, Connie, had given him her favorite recipes for some of her home cooking. Charlie didn't mind preparing their meals. It was easier than driving to town to eat out all the time.

  One of the neighbor's dogs went into a barking fit.

  Charlie washed his hands at the sink. "That must be Roman arriving home." They had gotten rid of the Border collie they had bought when they purchased this ranch. He had gotten nasty and snapped at him and Roman all the time. So, he had to go.

  Butch nodded, placing the shot glass on the table where Roman usually sat. "Hope he had a good day." Butch met Charlie's eyes.

  "I'd hate his job." Charlie began making his way to the front door. "Dealing with the scum of the earth every day."

  "Yeah. Me too."

  ~

  Roman shut off the engine of his SUV and began feeling extremely ill. Above him the snow fell and spun around like a miniature tornado, in dizzying spiral flakes. He had no idea how he had made it home. The drive was a blur now, and he touched the pistol which was in a shoulder holster inside his leather jacket. "Fuck!" Roman looked through the windshield. The clouds opened, just a gap big enough to see the full moon again.

  Pain overcame him and he grabbed his stomach and curled up, hitting the steering wheel as he cringed in agony.

  ~

  Charlie looked out of the front window at Roman's vehicle. The headlamps were off and yet he was not emerging. He felt Butch stand beside him.

  "Is he on his way in?" Butch asked.

  "No." Charlie moved to the front door and opened it. He looked out, feeling the icy wind and snow hitting his cheeks. Up above, the full moon showed its face and made the clouds glow with an eerie light. A chill rushed over Charlie's skin and he rubbed his face to rid the sensation of nausea.

  "I'll go out and see what's up." Butch reached for his coat on the rack.

  Charlie stopped him. "Let me. Go watch over dinner."

  "You sure?" Butch obviously appeared concerned.

  "Yes." Charlie took his coat off the stand and put it on as he walked outside, the snow already mounting on the ground and coating their evergreens and the dried grass.

  After a glance over his shoulder, seeing Butch watching him from the front door, Charlie stood near Roman's car. He was just about to open the passenger's door when white fangs and glowing green eyes attacking the inside of the glass, scaring the life out of him.

  Charlie jumped back, holding his chest. Then it hit him. "No! Oh, God no!"

  Inside Roman's car was a wolf, jet black and huge. It chewed at the glass as if trying to get at Charlie, showing its canines and snarling.

  "What the fuck?" Charlie shouted, "No!"

  "What happened, Charlie?" Butch yelled from behind.

  Charlie held up his hand. "Don't come out here! Ya hear me?"

  "Charlie!" Butch put on his coat.

  "I mean it!" Charlie glared at Butch who stopped what he was doing and looked upset.

  Charlie crouched by the SUV door and stared into the cab at the massive wolf, seeing Roman's clothing scattered on the seat and floor, a gun in a holster, and his ATF badge in a heap.

  "Why? Roman, why?" Charlie shivered in terror. Two years had gone by and they had thought this curse, or whatever the hell it was, had been lifted. Did he think about the ranch and the first time he and Roman met? Yes. Constantly.

  Back then Charlie had hunted Roman in wolf form, thinking Roman was killing deer, cutting out the hearts and was in some way part of a ritual sacrifice. But that couldn't have been further from the truth. Roman had been a victim of a curse, not the perpetrator.

  Charlie touched the glass.

  The big wolf teethed at it from the other side, making squeaking and snarling noise.

  "Calm down, Roman." Tears came to Charlie's eyes. "Ya know if ya keep freakin' out, ya won't change back."

  The black wolf sat on the passenger's seat and began licking th
e glass window between them.

  Charlie slowly touched the handle of the SUV door, seeing it wasn't locked. The big black wolf's ears perked up at the sound. Before Charlie opened the door, he heard the crunch of the gravel behind him.

  "Oh no." Butch had come outside.

  Charlie spun around towards him. "Git in the house!"

  Roman went mad, biting at the inside window, showing his large white fangs.

  "No! Charlie! This was done! We were through with this! How did this happen again?"

  "Butch! I had him calm! Git inside, now! An' don't come out 'til he's himself. Ya got it?"

  "What about you? Should I get the shotgun?"

  Charlie glared at him.

  Butch held up his hands in defeat and walked back to the house as the snow fell heavier. "Jus' sayin', Mosby. Ya know how he gets when he's like this."

  Charlie waited for Butch to enter the house and close the door. Once again he tried to calm Roman down. "Babe…sit and stop bitin' the dang car."

  The big wolf's ears flattened out and he sat, panting, his green eyes glowing.

  The heat from this big furry creature was steaming up the SUV's interior. Charlie began lifting the car door handle and it opened, slightly. Roman sat up and stuck his nose at the opening, snuffling.

  "Don't you bolt. I am not takin' a damn horse out to find you naked and shiverin' in this snow. Ya got that? So, stay!"

  The big wolf stood on the seat and shook out its fur.

  "Fuckin' can't believe we're at this again." Charlie's heart was pounding. He had already been bitten once by Roman as a wolf, two years back. He knew how painful it was…and…what it did to him.

  The neighbor's dog was howling and going crazy, as if it could sense or smell the wolf next door.

  "Don't jump out." Charlie tried to block the opening, but it was absurd. A wolf as big as this one would topple him over easily. "Roman! Sit the hell down!" Charlie trembled as he yelled, terrified that if the curse was this powerful, so strong that two years after they had thought it was broken, it had returned, then he was next.