"Even a Man Who is Pure in Heart" - CHAPTER ONE
He stared at the wooden and glass paneled door before him and shifted from foot to foot for a couple more moments. The was his last chance. It was not-so-surprisingly difficult to round up any information on honest-to-God-real-life werewolves in this glorious age of technology and Google. And if he was forced to view even one more picture of that Taylor Lautner kid shirtless he was going to put a silver bullet in his own brain and consider it a day.
Absently scratching at the scar that was still slightly raised from the skin he read the engraved plate next to the door for the fifteenth time in the last five minutes.
Prof. J.D. Morgan - Head of Anthropology & Mythology
Jensen rubbed a hand wearily down his face. The man behind this door was supposed to be the go-to guy at the university for all manner of myths and legends. Apparently he had some kind of fixation on it. At least, that’s what all students he’d asked at the coffee shop had said. He was also Jensen’s final hope for any kind of real information … and his time was running out. The silver bullet idea was appealing more and more.
Finally, he worked up the last of his courage and reached forward to knock hesitantly on the door.
“Come in!”
The voice was warm and rough and it tickled in Jensen’s ears pleasantly. Cautiously opening the door, he was greeted by an attractive older man sitting behind a desk strewn with books and papers. Salt and pepper hair, full beard and a welcoming smile. Jensen returned the smile with a fairly wane one of his own. An odd mixture of old books, aged leather and the sweet/sour smell of cigars teased his nose.
“Hello, son, how can I help you?”
Jensen cleared his throat and clasped his hands loosely behind his back.
“I was wondering if I could ask you questions … about a certain legend … or … creature, really. If you don’t mind, sir.”
The older man grinned again and motioned for Jensen to sit in the worn, leather visitors chair facing his messy desk.
“Of course. I do so love to gossip about my field. Are you in one of my classes?”
Jensen swallowed thickly, making his throat click audibly, as he scooted quickly into the offered chair.
“N-no, sir. I’m not a student here. Can’t afford it.”
The warm smile on Morgan’s face dimmed just a fraction as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well that’s a shame. What can I do you for?”
Jensen chuckled a little nervously under his breath before he spoke again.
“I was wondering what you knew about … werewolves?”
There was a flash of something he couldn’t define in Professor Morgan’s gaze. It made Jensen tense a little in his chair.
“Are you curious about the European mythology? Or more the-”
“If you please, sir … um … do you know anything about … the … the real thing?”
Morgan froze in his chair. His gaze seemed to sharpen as he looked Jensen up and down … then caught on the scar barely peeking out from beneath his gray Henley. Morgan chewed on his bottom lip for a second, clearly deep in thought, before he finally lifted his gaze to meet Jensen’s once more.
“You in trouble, son? How old is that bite?”
A wave of relief warred with a tsunami of nausea in Jensen’s gut and he slouched down into his chair.
“Two weeks.”
Morgan ‘hmmed’ under his breath, then suddenly shifted to pull out one of the drawers of his desk and rifle through some papers inside.
“They don’t socialize much … and they don’t take kindly to strangers … but I’ve heard of a guy. He’s one of the good ones.”
Jensen had trouble swallowing around the lump in his throat.
“There are good ones and bad ones?”
Morgan chuckled deep in his chest.
“They’re just people, kid. Like the rest of us.”
Jensen shuddered as the memory of the monster that had attacked him bubbled to the surface.
“With all due respect … that thing didn’t look like any person I know.”
The other man paused to glance at him for a second, then finally tugged a business card out from the stack of papers jammed into his desk drawer. He quickly handed it over and then stood from his chair.
“Be that as it may … Jared can help you. Just … be polite and honest with him. Now … I really must insist that you move along. I’m not supposed to share this knowledge as it is … and if any of the local pack finds out you came to me… well. I’d rather you just pretend you never came here.”
Jensen stood slowly and it felt like he left his stomach somewhere on the seat beneath him.
“There’s a … pack? Around here?”
Morgan made shooing motions with his hands and not-so-gently ushered Jensen out of his office.
“Off you go, kiddo … and good luck!”
There wasn’t even a chance for Jensen to respond before the door was slamming shut behind him. He leaned back against it for a moment to gather his wits about him once more. Too much information in too short of a time span … but at least he had something to go on. He glanced down at the small card gripped in his hand.
Jared Padalecki
“Even a Man Who is Pure in Heart”
There was nothing else on the card, save for a phone number scrawled on the back. It had a Washington area code, but that didn’t mean it was anywhere nearby. Jensen licked his lips in a nervous gesture before stuffing the card into the back pocket of his jeans and hurrying home to his tiny apartment.
Two days later the card continued to sit … staring at him … on the kitchen counter beside the phone. Jensen knew he really needed to man up and grown a pair, because his own personal time bomb was ticking down pretty quickly … but the idea of talking to a werewolf. On the phone. It was nearly more than he could take.
Finally, late on a Friday evening, he snatched up the card and dialed before he could second guess himself. It only rang twice before the call connected and a honey-rich voice came over the line.
“Hello?”
For a moment, Jensen considered hanging up … but he remembered that he was not, in fact, a teenage girl and it was time to start acting that way.
“Um … Hi … is this, Jared?”
Werewolf. Werewolf. Werewolf. Was on repeat inside Jensen’s brain. Banging at the walls of his internal filter and begging to be screamed out loud for the world to hear.
“Speaking. Can I help you?”
Jensen collapsed onto his beat up, thrift store couch and allowed his body to list bonelessly to the side.
“God, I really, really hope so.”
There was a weighted silence from the other end of the connection for a couple seconds.
“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi… you’re my only hope?”
Jensen burst out laughing without even meaning to. He couldn’t even remember the last time laughter had so freely leaked out from within his chest … but it had been over two years ago, to be sure. The answering chuckle on the other line was sincere and friendly, and he hoped to God that he wasn’t about to be classified as a mad-man.
“Yeah … yeah … pretty much … but Chewbacca may be more appropriate in this situation.”
He expected the amusement from the man on the phone to die off at his remark, but he was rewarded with another warm chuckle instead.
“Probably apt.”
Jensen picked at a string on his threadbare jeans, but for some reason his voice had left him now. He just waited for Jared to respond on the other end of the line.
“So … what’s the matter then?”
Steeling himself with the reminder that it was all or nothing, he only had a week and a half left until the next full moon, Jensen chose his words carefully.
“I was bitten. A little over two weeks ago. I don’t know what to do.”
Jared ‘hmmed’ thoughtfully over the line.
“Willingly? Or not?”
Jensen choked on the next inhale of air into his lungs.
“People get bitten WILLINGLY!?!”
The deep voice clucked in some odd form of disapproval.
“I’ll take that as a no, then. Which is … actually not a good thing.”
Nerves began gnawing their way up Jensen’s spine as he considered the applications of those words. Thought of himself Hulk-ing out into a giant, furry rage monster and shivered straight down to his toes.
“Wh-why is that?”
The other man (werewolf!) was now clearly moving around whatever building he was currently in. There was the sound of muted footsteps and the shuffling of paper.
“Well … because unwilling bites are forbidden. Pack law.”
Goosebumps were trekking their way down Jensen’s flesh now.
“Pack law?”
Jared hummed in agreement and there was a soft ‘snickt’ of noise over the line.
“Look … where are you? How far are you from Tilbury Falls?”
Jensen considered the route, considered the area. Tilbury Falls was a tiny town of less than a thousand people that backed right up to thick woods. He’d never ventured there himself, but had heard stories from locals about the nut jobs that inhabited the place.
“Maybe … maybe two hours away? Give or take?”
Jared made a soft noise of approval.
“Awesome. How soon can you be here?”
Jensen licked his lips and glanced around his apartment.
“I’d have to ask for time off from my boss and-”
“Quit the job.”
There was a handful of seconds wherein he had the urge to sputter indignantly and tell the other man to go fuck himself … but the mental image of his own personal time-clock of disaster tick-tocking away kept him from doing so.
“Why?”
Jared clucked in disapproval.
“Look … I don’t know your name…”
“Jensen.”
“Right, look, Jensen … you don’t have a lot of time here. And you damn sure are not going to have any control … or even a fucking clue what to do. So, you either pack your shit up and get over here ASAP … or I have to report you to the pack. You … won’t like that choice, I promise you.”
There were tears tapping at the back of his eyes, politely asking permission to be freed, but Jensen ignored them stoutly. He thought about his job. Which provided him with a paycheck, but he didn’t really like. He thought about his apartment. Which gave him a roof over his head, but he secretly hated coming home to. Running his fingers lightly across the scar at his shoulder he considered Jared’s words.
Jensen wasn’t stupid by any means. If unwilling bites were not allowed, that meant he was a dangerous loose end, and if Jared said he wouldn’t like the other option … he believed him.
“Okay … yeah … okay.”
His voice broke a little in the middle and silence greeted him from the other line for several seconds. When Jared spoke again, the soothing warmth had returned and Jensen clung to it like a lifeline.
“Jensen … it’s gonna be okay. I promise. It’s gonna be fine.”
A startled laugh broke free before he could stop it.
“Sure. I’ll um … it’ll take me a couple days to sort it all out.”
Jared breathed deeply across the connection.
“Call me when you’re about twenty miles out of town. Under no circumstances do you come into Tilbury by yourself. Got me?”
Jensen made a quick sound of understanding and then snapped his phone closed. For the second time in his life he was about to lose everything. His only consolation was that the stuff he had now… he really didn’t give a shit about.
Two days later, and for the second time in his life, Jensen disappeared like smoke in the wind. He dropped the key for his apartment off to the landlady. (It was pay by month anyway.) Turned in his apron at work. (They didn’t seem to be too bothered.) And donated almost everything he owned to the local Salvation Army. (Most of the furniture had been purchased from there anyway.) He even went as far as emptying out his meager checking account and closing it with the bank. (Being untraceable would probably be a good idea when you’re about to turn into a werewolf, after all.)
His one splurge was a Bluetooth earpiece that he could fit under his helmet and listen to radio on the road. Thirty minutes into the drive, with everything he owned in his saddle bags and backpack, Jensen called Jared. The phone only rang once this time.
“Jensen?”
The voice was just as warm and stable as he’d remembered it.
“Yeah. I’m on the road. About an hour and a half out.”
He could make out the sound of Jared walking barefoot on some kind of hard floor and that gave him pause. There hadn’t really been much of a chance to talk with anyone across a phone line since he was bitten, but Jensen was pretty sure that he’d never been able to make out the sounds of soft footfalls before.
“Does your hearing get affected? You know … when you’re turned?”
Jared laughed full out and Jensen found himself appreciating the sound. Not something that had been directed towards him in a long while.
“Geez, man … abrupt subject change much? Yes it does … why do you ask?”
Jensen considered playing off a bullshit answer, but the truth of the matter was … he really needed to trust Jared. And trust was a two way street. So he would be as open and forthcoming as he possible could.
“I just realized … I could hear you walking barefoot on a hard floor … and I couldn’t remember ever being able to do that with anyone before.”
The other man hummed softly under his breath.
“There’s going to be a lot of changes you’re going to have to get used to, Jensen. Some a lot more difficult to handle than just being able to hear better over the phone line … but yeah. I can tell that you’re on a bike, obviously, but I can also hear the nylon of your backpack shifting against your shoulders and the creak of your leathers as you shift around.”
Jensen blew out a calming breath, but Jared kept speaking, his voice seeming to echo inside the helmet.
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
An old pang of remorse and loss jabbed him in the side.
“No one to tell.”
Silence filled the line for several beats.
“No family? No friends?”
Jensen beat down the twist of pain that was blossoming in his chest.
“Nope.”
“No coworkers that might worry where you’ve gone?”
“Nope.”
“Seriously? No one? No one is going to wonder what the hell has happened to you?”
He grit his teeth slightly at the disbelief in Jared’s tone.
“I said no, didn’t I?”
Jared’s voice was a little breathless when he next spoke.
“Wow… that actually explains a lot … you’re perfect.”
The bike swerved for a second under lax fingers before Jensen swore and regained control.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, man?”
“No! No! No! Hear me out! I … I didn’t mean it to sound like that…”
Jensen released a slow, controlled breath but didn’t speak up, waited for Jared to continue instead. A bit of movement in his periphery caused him to glance down to his side mirror, and there was a black SUV pretty far back on the road behind him. It was the first vehicle he’d seen in a while.
“… it’s just I had been thinking over your situation. How it just doesn’t really happen anymore. And when you said you don’t have any friends or family … it all clicked.”
The SUV was gaining ground, little by little, and something was making Jensen’s proverbial hackles rise … so he increased his own speed.
“What clicked?”
“Well … no one will look for you if you disappear, right? You’re alone with no real connections.”
“Yeah, so?”
“…………… so I don’t think this was an accidental run in, Jensen.”
A cold pit of fear dropped low in his belly and his gaze immediately shot to his mirror, where the reflection of the SUV was closing in again. Oblivious to Jensen’s situation, Jared kept talking over the line.
“I think someone has been watching you. Following you. Waiting for the right opportunity … and when you were alone … they took it.”
He could now tell the make and model of the vehicle bearing down on him. The windows were tinted too black to see inside.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, man … I think you had your own personal werewolf stalker … who apparently decided he was done with watching and waiting.”
The massive car behind him pulled right up on his ass … front bumper nearly scraping the fender of Jensen’s bike. He ripped back the accelerator as far as it would go and prayed the old girl would stay together for him.
“Jensen? Was that a car? Jensen?”
The SUV gunned it as well and started to pull up again.
“FUCK!”
“JENSEN!? What’s going on!?”
Behind his own panic, and the worry in Jared’s voice, Jensen could hear the other man scrambling around and fumbling with a set of keys. Then a door slammed and a car started up before Jared spoke again.
“I’m on my way! What’s going on? Where are you?”
The SUV was nearing him again and Jensen swore. No way this was a good situation. No way. He supposed there was always a chance that whoever was in the car was out to help him … but something in his gut was telling him ‘not fucking likely’ … and he decided to go with that.
“There’s a truck. I think it’s … it’s after me.”
Jared swore this time and Jensen could hear him step on the gas. The SUV closed to his side suddenly swerved over into Jensen’s lane.
“MOTHER FUCKER!”
“What!? What!?”
“He’s trying to run me off the damn road!”
“Shit!”
Jensen found himself frantically peering to the road ahead, trying to find some sort of escape route. For the most part the two lane highway was empty fields of nothing. Some thick with trees. Others barren except for the tall stalks of bright green grass. Finally in the distance a smudge of brown angled away from the paved lanes and disappeared into woods.
“Feeder road! Taking it!”
Without so much as a thought to where the dirt track could lead him, Jensen veered off sharply the moment it appeared. He heard the SUV’s breaks squealing on the blacktop behind him, but didn’t let off the throttle, kicking up clouds of dust as he tore down the road.
“Where there any signs? Numbers? Names?”
He had almost forgotten that Jared was on the other end of the phone line.
“Don’t think so … there was an abandoned gas station about a mile back.”
“Okay! Okay! I know where you are! You’re almost to pack land! That’s good!”
Jensen took the chance to flick his gaze behind him. He couldn’t see much beyond the dust and dirt he was kicking up … but there was a distant rumble of tires on gravel.
“They’re still coming!”
Jared cursed, and Jensen could make out the sound of tires squealing around a corner through the line.
“Just a couple miles! There will be a really old rock wall covered with vines. The road you’re on will pass right through it, and then you’re on pack land. If they follow you after that … then we have a problem.”
“Got it.”
Jensen gunned the throttle again and desperately sought out some sort of wall in the distance. The roar of the other vehicle seemed to get louder behind him, but he didn’t dare turn around and check, and his side mirrors only reflected back his dust cloud. Finally a dark shape began to form on the horizon. At the speed he was going it shot up pretty fast, and he flew through the small opening carved into the decrepit wall. The woods around him seemed to instantly get heavier and the shadows more pronounced.
“I’m across.”
“Are they following?”
The road beneath his tires turned into rich, moist dirt and the cloud of dust dissipated behind him. Taking the chance, Jensen cut his speed back and swiveled his head to glance behind him. The SUV was stopped. Right at the line of the wall. The clenching fear in his gut relented by a fraction.
“No.”
There was a weary sigh in his ear and it sounded like Jared may have rubbed his hand down his face.
“Thank God. Get into the tree line where they can’t see you anymore and then stop. Wait for me there. I should be less than an hour. Don’t move unless they come after you, alright? I gotta make some calls.”
The idea of losing the connection to Jared spooked him just a bit, but Jensen made an affirmative sound and the line disconnected. He slowed his pace as he breached the tree line and followed the dirt road just a few dozen meters in before coming to a stop. Turning off the engine to the Harley caused the pounding in his ears to become even more pronounced.
There was the distant rumble of an engine, and Jensen hopped off the bike and jogged towards the tree line until he could make out the wall in the distance. The SUV had turned around and was driving away. Stumbling back towards all his earthly belongings, Jensen’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground.
