Never Again – 12

 

Joseph hadn't been lying to Beth when he said he had no intention of finding someone to share his life. He'd had someone once—and lost him. Even after all these years, he had never forgotten the debilitating pain he'd felt when he learned of Rawleigh's death.

He had never allowed himself to love anyone before he met Rawleigh. Of course, when it came down to it, he hadn't had much choice. He was a rarity, a shifter, and there were few enough of those as it was. He was also gay, so perpetuating the family line was not an option. With Rawleigh, against all common sense, he had let his heart rule his mind and fallen deeply in love—with a human.

"Never again," he had vowed after Rawleigh's death. He'd kept the vow, locking his heart away and living his life alone.

Enough, he chastised himself as he left the BEN offices and headed out into the sweltering heat of mid-afternoon New Orleans. I have better things to do than relive the past.

As he walked the half block to where he'd parked his car he paused, looking across the street at a small group of homeless people huddled together in the shade under the Pontchartrain Expressway. They, or at least people like them, seemed to be there every day.

Trying to find somewhere at least minimally cooler than the sidewalks, I suppose. Better them than me. And that was a particularly self-indulgent thought.

He remembered it twenty minutes later as he pulled into the driveway of his Garden District home. For whatever reason, probably because he'd seen the first ones, it seemed as if there were homeless people everywhere, alone or together in groups of two or more.

"When did this become such a problem?" He murmured when he stepped into the cool confines of his marble entryway. "How have I not seen it before? Because," he answered himself dryly, "I wander around with blinders on if it doesn't have to do with work."

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, for the moment at least, he went into the kitchen to find something to fix for an early supper. He found what he needed, setting the makings on the marble counter in the center of the kitchen then putting together two large meat and cheese sandwiches with all the trimmings. Taking them and a cold bottle of beer, he headed out to the backyard where he sat down on the low, brick wall surrounding a small pond filled with koi, dropping bits of bread to them while he ate.

"So, my good fellows," he said, tossing the koi the last scraps of his meal, "just what do you think I should do next with my life?"

The fish, of course, didn't answer but then he hadn't expected them to. He had found, however, that using them as a sounding board sometimes helped him focus on what was bothering him. But unfortunately not this evening. So he went back inside, cleaned up his dishes, and debated what to do next. It wasn't really too much of a decision. He hadn't been out of the city for two weeks. He needed to go to his usual spot and run. He hoped it would clear his mind.

Never Again – 11

 

New Orleans—the present

"Joe, pay attention. We have to decide which story to lead with today."

Joseph Moncure brushed a finger over his mustache and cocked an eyebrow at his editor-in-chief. "I thought that was your job. I just pay the bills and make certain our technicians keep the site running the way it should with no hang-ups."

Brian Craig sighed heavily, but everyone knew it was all for show. The big man loved his job with BEN.com and wouldn't have traded it for the world, especially since his wife Beth was his co-editor, as well as being Joseph's niece.

BEN.com was an acronym for Big Easy News, Joseph's most recent venture. He had watched as the print newspapers began to fold slowly but surely with the rise of the Internet, and had the acumen to jump in early, hiring the best people he could find for his start-up company. Within five years it was one of the foremost local news sites on the Web.

Now, Joseph was beginning to realize he was bored with it. Not with what BEN was all about, but with his day-to-day involvement. He knew at this point it could carry on quite well without him.

I need to find a new project, something to hold my interest again. The problem is what?

He'd been going round and round with himself about it for the last month. Nothing really appealed to him so far. But then he'd done pretty much everything possible revolving around newspapers since he'd begun by purchasing the Richmond Gazette over one hundred and fifty years ago. He had sold that paper less than six years later after the death of his lover, Rawleigh Travers. Since then, he'd bought and sold three more publications, two newspapers and a small, national news magazine.

He had kept his name, or variations thereof, down through the years. Whenever he was asked, he would tell the questioner he was the son or nephew of his previous incarnation. So far, no one had done more than take his word for it, but if they had checked they would have found the proof needed to back up his claims. He was no fool and had learned well from his parents how to keep his long life a secret from prying eyes.

"Joe, did we lose you again?" This time it was Beth who asked.

"Sorry. No. Go with the various school board decisions on budgeting and contracts."

"And the missing man?" one of the other editors asked.

"Do a crime feature with it and one with the man sentenced for murdering the priest. After that, it's business as usual. Beth, Pat has the new mock up for the home page alterations. Would you take a look, and if you and Brian approve of it, have him set it up."

Beth gave him a mock salute. "You bet. And if we hate it?"

"Work with him on what you want changed."

Beth shot Joseph a surprised look but nodded in agreement. Ten minutes later the meeting ended and everyone dispersed. Beth stayed behind however, cornering her uncle before he could leave.

"What's going on with you? It's like you don't want to be here anymore."

He smiled ruefully. "Probably because in truth, I don't. Everything runs smoothly so I feel like an unneeded figurehead, being asked things any one of you could decide on your own."

"That's not true," she protested.

"Beth, you know it is." He tapped a finger to his lip then nodded. "As of today, I'm signing the company over to you and Brian."

"No way!"

"I'd say 'Way!' but I'm a bit old to use the teen vernacular," he replied with a small grin.

Beth snorted. "Maybe in reality, but you don't look a day over thirty."

"A very world-weary thirty right now, I'm afraid." He walked to the door, holding it open for her. "I'll talk to my lawyers and have them draw up a contract and whatever else is needed."

"Uncle Joe, are you really sure you want to do this?"

He nodded slowly. "It's time for me to move on and find something new."

"Like someone to share your life?" she asked hopefully.

"Elizabeth Moncure Craig," he replied, drawing her name out the way an upset parent might, "that will not happen and you know it. So get the idea out of your head now."

"I was just suggesting…"

He smiled, patting her shoulder. "I know you mean well, but honestly I'm quite content with being alone. It gives me time to do the important things in life, such as find a new project to pour my time and money into."

"All right, I'll drop it… for the time being."

He laughed. "But you won't stop bugging me about it."

She grinned back. "I haven't for the last hundred years. Why start now?"

Never Again – 10

 

 

For the next two years, Joseph and Rawleigh's life together was as idyllic as possible, considering the fact the War Between the States raged on around them. Rawleigh spent more time away than at home, twice returning wounded. As soon as he healed, he returned to the field, reporting stories of the battles with all their attendant horrors.

Meanwhile, Joseph's editorials became more vitriolic as he condemned the secessionist leadership for failing to conduct the war in a manner which would ensure victory for the South. He found he had many supporters of his views and an almost equal number who felt he was nothing more than a Union collaborator doing his best to demoralize the Confederacy and its troops.

As a result of his beliefs, Joseph found himself spending a fair amount of time either closeted in his office at the Gazette to avoid those who would dearly like to challenge him to a duel, or barricaded behind the closed doors of his home. His only relief came when Rawleigh returned briefly, offering his support and his love for a day or, rarely, a week.

Then came the morning in May of 1864 when Rawleigh headed north to cover what would become known as the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House. It would turn out to be one of the deadliest battles of the war.

He and Joseph had spent the evening before his departure dining at their favorite restaurant. On their way home, a man stepped into their path, his face suffused with anger.

"You, sir, are a coward and a bastard," he had stated coldly, staring at Joseph. "I challenge you to a duel at sunrise tomorrow at Will's Farm."

Joseph started to respond that he would gladly meet the man when Rawleigh stepped in.

"Mr. Moncure will be unavailable, as I have promised to meet the Confederate treasurer at the same hour, for the same purpose, across the city from your location. As my second, Mr. Moncure will, of course, be standing by my side. Well," he added with a small smile, "perhaps not literally, but definitely figuratively."

The man spat out angrily, "Then we shall postpone it for a day. I shall send you details of the time and place." With that said, he spun on his heel and stalked away.

"Since when have you taken up dueling?" Joseph asked with a laugh when they continued toward home.

"Since never?" Rawleigh replied guilelessly. "However I didn't want his challenge to disrupt our last evening together before I leave. Besides"—he put his arm over Joseph's shoulders—"I know how you feel about personal fights. This way you can avoid him until he calms down and regains his senses."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then shoot him and be done with it," Rawleigh told him with a grin. "I have complete faith in your abilities."

The following morning Rawleigh left, promising as he always did between loving good-by kisses, to return to Joseph as soon as possible.

It was the last time Joseph would see him alive.

Never Again – 9

 

"Thank God," Joseph whispered, reaching to take Rawleigh's hand. "I was so terrified of what you would think, how you would… would react to all of this."

"I shouldn't wonder," Rawleigh replied with a small smile. "I'm more than certain most people would have run, screaming, then returned to hunt you down in either form." He laced his fingers with Joseph's, giving a gentle tug. Joseph responded, sitting down beside him lover, leaning into to him when Rawleigh wrapped his arms tightly around him, shivering as a cool September breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and brushed over them. Rawleigh laughed softly. "You might be warm enough in that thick coat of fur, but naked and human, to all intents and purposes at least, you must be freezing." He leaned down to pick up Joseph's shirt and trousers, still keeping his other arm around him. "Put these on and then, well, I think we should talk about what comes next."

When Joseph was dressed and once again sitting next to Rawleigh he asked, "What does come next, as far as you're concerned?"

"I suppose, to start with, you tell me why you are… what do you call yourself, a werewolf? As in the legends?"

"A shifter. I was born human, but with shifter genes passed down from my mother and father." Joseph chuckled. "No one bit me. I wasn't attacked by a feral werewolf the way the stories tell. I was, to all intents and purposes, fully human until I hit puberty. Then the shifter genes began to take over. I was somewhat stronger than my peers, more agile, and when I'd get angry, my eyes would seem to glow. Still, I wasn't able to shift. That happened when I was twenty. We were living in New Orleans in 1814. When rumors abounded that the British were going to attack the city, my parents sent me and Elizabeth north. We were supposed to end up with our grandparents in Nashville." He smiled ruefully. "That didn't happen."

Rawleigh, listening intently, said when Joseph paused, "Don't stop now."

"I wasn't planning on it. But I will make a long story shorter. We were attacked by a group of renegade soldiers. They thought to capture Elizabeth and use her… well, I think you understand. The need to protect her triggered my shifting abilities."

"Did you know?"

"That I had the ability to shift? Yes. After all it was passed down from our parents and father was a full shifter, unlike mother who just carried the gene. So yes, I knew, and I knew what to expect. However I was unprepared for how painful it would be. It almost undid me but the need to save Elizabeth kept me sane, I suppose you could say. I dealt with the soldiers as they deserved. Once I had, however, I vowed to myself that never again would I attack and kill anyone in my shifter form. It terrified me, Rawleigh. The feeling of power—the need to destroy. I've learned since, it is rarely like that unless I'm protecting someone."

"So you don't shift too often anymore?"

"Oh I do. As Elizabeth pointed out just days ago, shifting is part of what I am. It's in my nature to do so and denying it has consequences."

"Then you've waited until I was gone to do it."

"At first, yes. But recently…" Joseph stared silently out across the glade.

"You stopped? Why, Joseph?"

"Because I love you and I didn't want to lose you. I, well, all shifters, age much more slowly than humans because each time we shift our bodies regenerate with the transformation. In time you would have begun to realize I still looked the way I did the day we met."

"You fool!" Rawleigh looked at him in horrified dismay. "You were willing to suffer whatever the consequences are that come from not shifting just because of me? You're insane."

"No, Rawleigh, I'm a man who loves you with all my heart. I thought I could control the negative sides of not shifting. Apparently, according to Elizabeth, I was doing a very poor job of it."

"Then it's a damned good thing you told me, isn't it?" Rawleigh reached for him and when Joseph didn't move away he pulled him into his arms, saying quietly, "You should shift again, now, and make up for all the time you've lost."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"No, you silly man, I wouldn't mind. It is, as you said, in your nature and who am I to deny you that."

Joseph chuckled. "Actually it was Elizabeth who said that."

"Ahh yes, so you said. Is she a shifter too?"

"She carries the gene, and with it some small benefits, but she doesn't seem to have the shifting ability, just as our mother didn't."

"Then she'd have to marry a full shifter to produce one. I guess that leaves me out." Rawleigh grinned when Joseph pulled away to look at him in horror. "Just teasing, my love. Just teasing. Now shift and go run or whatever it is you do." He pulled Joseph back to him, kissing him deeply. "I'll be right here when you return, I swear."

"I'm holding you to that," Joseph replied with a look filled with the promise of more to come when they returned to the city. Then he stripped off his clothes once again and shifted.

Never Again – 8

 

"Where are we going?" Rawleigh asked, looking at the two horses standing ready in the stable.

"For a ride," was all Joseph replied sharply when he mounted his, tightening the reins to keep the horse from shying away as he did.

Mounting the other horse, Rawleigh cocked an eyebrow. "For any special reason?"

"Yes," he growled in reply.

"Secrets, Joseph?"

"Only for an hour longer." He softened his tone. "I promise."

Rawleigh's mouth tightened in obvious frustration but he said nothing, just following Joseph as they cantered down the street to the river then east out of Richmond. Soon they were deep into a wooded area. Signs of one of the battles earlier in the year surrounded them, some blasted trees, still-trampled ground, but eventually that gave way to a less damaged area. Finally, Joseph came to a stop and dismounted.

By now it was dark, only the full moon above them lighting the small glade. After tethering their horses, Joseph pointed to a fallen log well away from them. "Please, sit and listen. What I have to tell you…" He took a deep breath. "Just believe I am not lying or saying this with the intent of driving you away from me."

The worried, almost panicked look on Rawleigh's face as he sat did little to alleviate Joseph's fears that he would soon lose the man he loved. His sister was correct, however, he could no longer keep his secret to himself.

Hands now gripped tightly behind his back, Joseph paced the glade. "I don't know how to begin," he said quietly. "There is something about me I have to tell you if our love is going to survive. And yet, if I do, you may hate me or think me insane." Pain colored his words but he forced himself to continue. "You've seen much these past few years—war, death, destruction beyond belief. Through it all you've grown and become an exceptional human. A human I love more than I ever thought possible. More than I should have allowed, for both our sakes."

"A strange way to phrase it, Joseph, to call me a human, not a man."

"I know, but from my perspective that's what you are. A human."

"And you're not?" Rawleigh said with a soft snort of amusement.

"No." Joseph looked at him with pain-filled eyes. "I am… more than human."

Rawleigh returned his gaze, his look full of questions. "What does that mean, more than human? Do you think you're—" he paused, "—a god? An angel fallen from Heaven? A demon come up from Hell? What, Joseph? Tell me. What do you think you are?"

"It's not what I think but what I know. I'm not delusional, Rawleigh, although at the moment I'm sure you don't believe it." He turned away to resume pacing. "In this world there are many creatures. Most of them you and everyone else know about. Some, a very few…" Joseph hesitated, frowning deeply. "For us it's not safe if we reveal ourselves. People would not understand. We know that from past experience. We are an anathema, something to be hunted and killed without remorse." He spun around, staring at Rawleigh. "You may want to kill me when I show you what I am."

"I could never kill you, Joseph. If you were Satan himself I could never kill you. I love you. So… show me." Rawleigh's voice trembled as he spoke, but he remained where he was, not attempting to flee from whatever his lover was going to do.

Joseph first undressed then came to kneel before Rawleigh, crouching on all fours. He took a deep breath then began to transform. For a moment it seemed as if nothing was happening. Then slowly his hands and feet grew, lengthening, changing into massive paws. His jaw lengthened as well, expanding forward, taking on a lupine shape with sharp, pointed ears set on the top of his head. His shoulders broadened, his back narrowed down to thick, muscular haunches. Soon fur covered his body, a thick coat of black fur, blending down to a deep gray, and to pale gray across his muzzle. His tail, when it appeared, was full and bushy, pure black, tipped with gray.

Rawleigh watched with a mixture of terror and wonder on his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out one hand to touch the wolf, drawing it down over his muzzle, tension defining his every move. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I would not have believed it possible," he said in a shaky voice.

The wolf nuzzled his hand.

"You are quite… remarkable, handsome, incredible, and… and fearsome. Can you change back? And that sounded stupid. Of course you can. Will you, Joseph? Please."

The wolf nodded and soon it was Joseph crouching there, looking up at Rawleigh. "Are you going to run now, from the aberration that is me?" he asked, his voice taut with fear while he waited for Rawleigh's reply.

Slowly, Rawleigh shook his head. "I could. Perhaps I should. But I won't. As strange as this may sound, seeing you like that, knowing you trusted me enough to show me what you truly are, makes me love you more, not less."