Never Again – 15

 

"Thought you were rid of me, didn't you," Joseph said with a smile when Beth looked up at him in surprise.

"I would certainly hope not." She waved the contract at him. "I didn't… I wasn't certain you really meant what you said." Jumping up, she crossed her office to hug him. "Thank you!"

"You're most welcome and you know it."

"So what brings you back already? Did you realize you can't live without us?"

"If I said yes would you believe me?" When she shook her head, he laughed. "You're right. I can on the day-to-day level. But I need to do some research and I thought I'd start by picking Jennifer's brain, if she's around."

"I think she's down the hall in the Features office. What are you looking for?"

"She did a story six months ago, if I'm remembering right, about the homeless problem in the city."

"She did." Beth smiled knowingly. "Are you taking my words to heart about finding some wrong to right?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. Time will tell."

"Then go talk to her. I'm sure she's got all her research stashed somewhere."

Joseph found out a few minutes later 'somewhere' turned out to be a huge file stored on her computer. Once he explained why he wanted to see it, Jennifer offered to send it to him so he could read it at his leisure at home. He thanked her, asking for a copy of her article as well, which she immediately attached to the email.

"I think you're going to be shocked at the severity of the problem," she told him. "New Orleans has the second highest rate of homeless people in the nation."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Very seriously I'm afraid. You don't notice it here as much as in some cities because a great many of the people live in abandoned buildings, and there are still too many of those even with the rebuilding since Katrina."

"I honestly had no idea," he replied, shaking his head.

"Most people don't. They only see the problem when there's a possibility it could impact the tourist trade."

Joseph's mouth tightened. "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Because you know how people are," she told him, her voice filled with disgust as she added, "If it hits them in the pocketbook, then they pay attention."

"Too true, and it's always been that way. Well, I should leave you to whatever you were doing. Thank you for your help."

"Anytime, Joe, and if you have any questions once you've read everything, call me. If I don't have the answers I probably can point you to someone who does."

* * * *

Two days later Joseph had read every bit of the information in Jennifer's files several times over. While the statistics appalled him, it was the interviews she'd done with the homeless that struck home—with men and women who had lost jobs and families because of the current economic situation—with kids who had been thrown away because they didn't conform to their parent's views on how they should act—with veterans returning home from their tours of duty to find the system had betrayed them, especially those who suffered from PTSD. That disorder was just barely beginning to be recognized as a real problem by the VA. Some of the men suffering from it had lost their families who couldn't cope with the men's symptoms, and their jobs. Those men ended up on the streets, resorting to alcohol and drugs to try to relieve their stress.

Some of the homeless had migrated down from the northern states, thinking at least in the warmer climate things might be easier because sleeping on the streets might not be as deadly come winter.

According to one group trying to help the homeless as best they could, sixty percent suffered from mental illness and twenty-five percent of those had some sort of developmental disability. On any given night, five thousand people slept unsheltered—and that was just in New Orleans.

There has to be something that can be done to help them. Joseph closed the file yet again, staring up at the ornate ceiling of his study. He shook his head in disgust. Look at me. One man, living in a home large enough to easily house a family of five, while hundreds, thousands, have only the roof of a derelict building to keep off the rain and sun. Something has to be done. I have to do something. No matter how small the effect, at least I can do something.

Opening his phone, he called Jennifer. When she answered he said, "Put me in contact with someone who knows about the needs of the homeless. Someone who cares."

She was silent for a moment and he wondered if she knew it was him. Then she said, "I know the perfect man, Joe. Let me get in touch with him and if he's willing, I'll set up an appointment."

Never Again – 14

 

Early the next day Joseph paid a visit to his lawyers to set up the transfer of his business to Brian and Beth. It took most of the morning to work out the details but in the end there was an ironclad contract that the lawyers would send to the Craigs for their signatures. With that accomplished, Joseph felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

I'm a man of leisure, probably for the first time in my life, he thought with a small smile as he stood outside the building, wondering what to do next. Lunch, I think. Somewhere special to celebrate my new-found freedom.

Using his phone, he discovered he was just three blocks from a place that BEN's restaurant critic had given a five-star rating. Taking off his suit coat for the moment, he slung it over his shoulder and started walking.

"They're even here," he murmured minutes later when he spied a pair of homeless men, one barely eighteen, if he didn't miss his guess, the other a few years older. They were squatting on a tattered blanket at an alley entrance, an upturned cap sitting in front of them. Joseph wondered if they chose that location so they could escape down the alley if the cops tried to roust them. As he passed, he dug into his pocket, coming up with a handful of change that he dropped into the cap.

A block later, as he neared the restaurant, he saw a woman pushing an over-flowing shopping cart. Even in the mid-day heat, she was bundled up in a ragged coat. In the cart, on top of what he was certain were all of her worldly possessions, sat a cat. When the woman saw him looking at her, she ducked her head and moved faster, heading, he thought, toward the riverfront. He quickened his pace, taking out his wallet as he did, extracting a couple of dollars. When he came up beside her, he handed them to her.

"Thank you, sir," she said in a gravelly voice, quickly stuffing the bills inside her coat.

Impulsively he asked, "Do you have somewhere safe to stay at night?"

He was surprised when she actually replied. "You're kidding, right? There's places, yeah, but they all fill up too quick, and they ain't all that safe, anyways."

"Surely they're still better than… than under a bridge or in an alley?"

She snorted derisively. "Check them out; you'll see." With that, she continued on her way. The cat looked back at him for an instant, snarled, and returned to what it had been doing, snoozing on top of a tattered blanket.

A few minutes later, while he waited by the restaurant's hostess-stand to be seated, Joseph thought about what the woman has said. He wondered if it was the truth. Were the shelters really so unsafe that a woman would prefer taking her chances on the streets at night. And what about the men who lived under the bridges, did they feel the same way?

Perhaps… He rapped a knuckle against his lip. Maybe I should at least check it out? Not that there's much I could do even if it was the truth, other than donate to one of the shelters, one where the people seem to care. And I'm being cynical. Why work at a shelter if you don't care?

His musings were interrupted by the hostess telling him his table was ready. Shelving his thoughts for the moment, he followed her.

 

Never Again – 13

 

Joseph ended up calling Beth to accompany him on his run. She'd sounded surprised but readily agreed. Once they were in the Bayou Sauvage Wildlife Refuge, he pulled the car off to the side of the road at a spot where he knew it wouldn't be bothered. Then, after crossing to Blind Lagoon, he and Beth stashed their clothes at the foot of an ancient cypress tree, shifted and ran.

Darkness covered them when they raced through the hardwood forest and splashed through the marshes. They were tempted by the deer and resisted, not wanting anyone to know there had been wolves in the area. An alligator took exception to their presence in his part of a small lagoon. They teased him and avoided his snapping jaws.

Eventually they tired and returned to where they'd begun, shifting and dressing. Joseph, unwilling to leave quite yet, settled down with his back against the tree trunk, staring off over the bayou.

"Feeling better now?" Beth asked, sitting down beside him.

"Yes, thank you." He turned to smile at her. "Can I take it you asked because I've been a bit snappish, as your mother used to call it?"

"Not horribly so, but sort of leaning in that direction. Between that and your sudden decision to turn BEN over to me and Brian then inviting me to come with you…" She patted his arm. "I know something's really bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"If I knew what it was, I would." He stroked his short, well-trimmed beard pensively. "I'm… restless and feeling pretty useless right now. It's like I've just been treading water for the last year or so, wondering why my life seems, well, not empty but void of any real meaning."

"I'll avoid the obvious since you don't want to hear it. Other than that, when you get right down to it, you've been doing the same type of work for over a hundred and fifty years—and doing it well. Now there's no challenge in it for you, which probably isn't too surprising. So my advice is, find something totally different."

Joseph nodded, chuckling softly. "I could try my hand at digging ditches."

Beth snorted. "That's not what I meant and you know it. There has to be something that excites you—some wrong you'd like to right, some place you've always wanted to explore. Find that thing or that place and you might also find what you're looking for."

"Sanity?" he replied with a small smile.

"Uncle Joe, you're the sanest man I know other than Brian. And him I'm not so sure about. After all, he married me, even knowing what I am."

"You were lucky to find him, Beth. It's the rare human who understands." He bowed his head, digging his nails into the palms of his hands in hopes the physical pain might alleviate the emotional agony he still felt to this day whenever he thought about what he'd lost.

Beth put her arm around his shoulders, hugging him. "If you would just give yourself another chance," she murmured.

"I can't. I won't. Never again. And if that makes me sound weak, so be it."

"Not weak, just human. Well," she amended with a smile, "human in your emotions. And there is nothing wrong with that."

Lifting his head, he kissed her cheek. "I think it's time we got back before Brian thinks some hunter's done his worst."

"He knows better than that but I agree. It's late and as usual I have to be up at the crack of dawn if we're going to put the most recent news up on the site in a timely fashion."

Getting to his feet, Joseph offered his hand to help her up. "Thank you, for coming with me and for listening."

"Always. You're my family—my only blood family—and I love you."

"And I love you, my dear." He smiled down at her. "You have no idea how much you remind me of your mother."

Beth laughed. "Yeah, I do and I know why, because I don't cut you any slack, just like her."

"Exactly."

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."

Never Again – 7

 

And so it began. A year passed with the two men spending as much time as possible in each other's company—and Joseph's bed—when Rawleigh was in the city. The war had expanded and as it did, Rawleigh was home less and less, only coming back to file his stories before vanishing again a day later.

Rawleigh covered each battle of the Union's failed attempt to take Richmond in June of 1862, returning to the heart of the city, and to Joseph, more often than he had been able to before.

While neither man quite expressed their feeling for each other in words, Joseph knew Rawleigh loved him. Much to his dismay, he also knew he had fallen deeply in love with the young reporter as well.

Early one September afternoon of that year, while Rawleigh was gone again, heading north to cover the campaigns in Maryland, Elizabeth cornered her brother in his office.

He looked up from the editorial he was writing when he heard the door open. One look at her face and he knew something was wrong. He asked what it was.

"It's you, Joseph. You and what you're doing to yourself."

"Which would be?" he said, knowing full well what she meant, even as he hoped he was wrong.

She closed the door firmly and came closer, bringing a chair next to his desk. Sitting, she laid her hand on his arm. "You know. You are denying your nature because of this boy."

"He's hardly a boy," Joseph protested.

"Boy, man, whatever you want to call him, you are still denying your nature and I know why." She shook her head, looking at him in dismay. "Because you are not shifting, you are aging, Joseph. Not much and no one other than I might notice it yet, but still you are. On top of which you are becoming short-tempered with everyone. Your employees do their best to stay out of your path, whether you realize it or not. Even I do, when I can. You just about bit my head off this morning over something so minor you would have laughed it off half a year ago."

Joseph lowered his gaze, staring down at his desk. "I have no choice, Elizabeth. He's not a fool. He would begin to wonder why I never seem to grow older."

"Then leave him, Joseph," she said adamantly. "Walk away or send him away. Otherwise you will end up destroying yourself."

"I love him, Elizabeth," he replied softly, almost sadly.

"And so you refuse to shift to what you are, contrary to all that is in you and what it is doing to you? Tell me, Joseph, do you think he would want you to deny your being, your essence, for him? If he loves you, it would be the last thing he'd want."

He shook his head. "But how… how can I tell him?"

She smiled, patting his hand. "You're a man of words, just as he is. And, like him, a man of action. Take him out, away from the city to somewhere safe, and show him. I think… I truly think, he can handle it and will respect and love you more for trusting him with our secret."

Never Again – 6

 

The evening was warm, a blessed relief from the past few days that had been unseasonably chilly in Joseph's opinion. He turned to Rawleigh, suggesting they go down toward the river, away from the streets that were still busy even at that hour of the night.

As they strolled, Joseph could sense the tension rolling off his companion. The question is, am I willing to ease it. Or perhaps more to the point, how will I alleviate it? Verbally or physically?

He was more than willing to admit, to himself at least, that taking the young man to his bed would not be an unwelcome venture. He did trust Rawleigh to the extent of believing he would never reveal what happened, should they have a one-time fling or a relationship lasting for a few months. And that was as long as it would continue, if it even began. Rawleigh was human. Joseph avoided long-term connections with them on any personal level for obvious reasons. While the humans he came in contact with on a day-to-day basis might not realize he aged very slowly, a lover would undoubtedly pick up on the fact if they were around him for an extended period of time. He was not willing to let it happen. His very life depended on it.

As they neared the river, the streets darkened and, conversely, Joseph's mood lightened when he finally reached a decision. He put his arm around Rawleigh's shoulders in a companionable manner.

Rawleigh stiffened, asking quietly, "What are you doing? What if…if someone sees us?"

"Look around. We're the only ones here at the moment and even if we weren't, we're just two friends out for a stroll after a bit too much to drink."

"We didn't…" Then Rawleigh understood and smiled. "Way too much, so you need to keep me on my feet."

"Precisely." Joseph grinned, pulling him even closer. "And as we're nearing my house, I think it would behoove me invite you in until you sobered up a bit."

"Oh, I definitely agree." Rawleigh glanced around, obviously wondering which of the few houses they were nearing was Joseph's.

"The red brick one with the white-pillared porch," Joseph told him, picking up on what he was doing.

"Three stories tall. You must be somewhat well-to-do."

"Not really. Elizabeth shared it with me for a brief time but we both discovered we liked our privacy, so she moved to a smaller one down the block." Joseph pointed to a two-story clapboard house.

"She's safe? Living alone like that?"

Joseph nodded, trying not to laugh. Very safe, considering what she is. Aloud, he explained that his sister was a crack shot and kept two guns at her disposal, a fact that was well known in the neighborhood.

When they arrived on the porch of Joseph's house, Rawleigh hesitated. "Are you…? Is this…?"

Instead of replying immediately, Joseph unlocked the door and eased the young man inside. "I am, and this is, if you're willing," he said, once he'd closed the door behind them.

After taking a deep breath, Rawleigh nodded. "I am. I've been, well, you'll probably think me silly, but I've dreamt of this. Often."

"I can't honestly say the same, I'm afraid, but the thought has crossed my mind once or twice." Slipping one arm around Rawleigh's waist, Joseph pulled him close enough to feel the heat of his body and the slight bulge in his trousers. He cupped the nape of his neck beneath his dark hair, his eyes scanning Rawleigh's face as he looked for any indication he might have second thoughts.

"Kiss me," Rawleigh whispered. "Kiss me then take me to your bed."

Joseph had no problem complying with the first request. He started gently, just the barest of pressure as his lips met Rawleigh's. It only took an instant for him to drop any pretense of reluctance. Joseph's mouth devoured the young man's. His tongue darted in to taste, savor, and fight for dominance.

Rawleigh broke the kiss, but only so he could grasp Joseph's hands and pull him toward the narrow staircase leading to the second floor. They made it to Joseph's bedroom where the kiss resumed as they tore off unwanted clothing.

"You're… incredible," Rawleigh pronounced, taking in the now-naked man standing in front of him. "Absolutely amazingly incredible."

"We haven't even done anything," Joseph replied, smiling. "So how can you say that?"

Rawleigh played his fingers over Joseph's muscular torso, tracing each well-defined line then following the trail of dark hair leading down past his navel to the thick phallus jutting up, just begging to be worshiped. And worship it he did, with tongue and lips as he knelt in front of Joseph.

Joseph hadn't been lying when he said it had been a long time since he'd been with a man. He might not truly have been celibate, but he was close enough to it so it took all of his willpower to refrain from coming then and there when Rawleigh's hot mouth encompassed his member.

"Enough"—Joseph groaned—"unless you wish this to end too soon."

Rawleigh released him, looking up. "I want this to last forever," he murmured, rising to his feet so he could kiss Joseph yet again.

Wrapping his arms around the young man, Joseph returned the fevered kiss while taking two steps back so his could tumble them onto his bed. With Rawleigh now sprawling on his chest, Joseph had free rein to slide his hands lower, molding them over Rawleigh's firm buttocks, squeezing and caressing. His fingers moved as if of their own volition to separate the cheeks of Rawleigh's ass, one finger tracing light circles around his tight hole.

"Yes," Rawleigh moaned into Joseph's mouth. "More… please…"

Joseph paused just long enough to moisten his fingers with saliva before gently pressing one into Rawleigh deeply enough to stroke his sensitive gland. Rawleigh responded with a cry of pleasure, aching up—the kissing forgotten it seemed when he moaned in ecstasy.

"I've barely begun and already you're close to coming," Joseph said with a small laugh as he wrapped his other hand around Rawleigh's hard member, two fingers tightening around the base. He slid a second finger into his hole, using both to stretch the tight muscle.

"I want… I need…" Rawleigh almost sobbed out the words

"Soon, soon," Joseph whispered, removing his fingers despite Rawleigh's protests then sliding him off his chest onto the bed. "But not too soon, else I'll hurt you."

Rawleigh rolled onto his back, his throbbing erection leaking prodigiously. Joseph's mouth descended, his tongue teasing up and down its length, his own member pulsing with need.

"Back onto your stomach," he ordered, softening his tone to add, "please." When Rawleigh quickly complied, thrusting his buttocks into the air, Joseph chuckled. "So ready, so willing."

"So wanting you inside of me," Rawleigh moaned.

"As I said, soon." Moving between his legs, Joseph spread the cheeks of Rawleigh's ass and began to tease his hole with his tongue, circling it slowly until Rawleigh thrust back, obviously wanting it in him.

"You will drive me to insanity," Rawleigh moaned.

"I do intend to try." Joseph eased his tongue in, letting his saliva lubricate the entrance as much as possible.

"Now, now." Rawleigh's voice was tight with need.

Joseph pulled back. "Shush. Soon." His member was covered with leaking pre-cum. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he added saliva to the mix as he pulled back his foreskin. He hoped, when he finished, he was lubricated enough to enter Rawleigh without hurting him too much.

"I am neither a babe nor an innocent, Joseph," Rawleigh muttered, his voice fraught with tension. "I will, however, die of frustration if you do not pierce me soon."

With a low chuckle, Joseph did exactly that, pushing in inch by inch, his senses open to any nuance that would tell him he was too much for Rawleigh, even as every fiber of his being wanted to thrust hard and fast. His fingers bit into the young man's hips as he fought for restraint, eliciting a small bark of surprise from Rawleigh. "Sorry," Joseph murmured.

Instead of replying, Rawleigh thrust back, impaling himself completely on Joseph's thick shaft with a cry halfway between pain and total pleasure.

"You fool," Joseph barked out, gripping him tightly to keep him still for a moment.

"If you won't do it… well, someone had to," Rawleigh gasped in reply.

Then, slowly at first, Joseph began to ride him and with each stroke pleasure flooded his body until he was unable to rein in his need for more. Faster, harder, he plunged in, one hand now wrapped firmly around Rawleigh's rampant member. Rawleigh moaned, matching thrust for thrust and between one breath and the next, they both exploded, their orgasms sending them beyond rapture into nirvana.

"By all that's holy," Rawleigh whispered when he regained his voice, "I knew it would be wonderful, but this—this was heaven beyond belief."

Joseph laughed delightedly as he pulled away and collapsed onto the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around Rawleigh. "The reporter surfaces with colorful words to describe…" Rawleigh's kiss ended what he was going to say—not that he minded in the least.

Never Again – 5

 

The next few weeks were too hectic for anything to happen between the two men other than work. Not that Joseph would have allowed it but he didn't get the chance to say so.

Rawleigh vanished periodically to cover stories; Joseph wrote several editorials scathingly denouncing those who did not support the secession and with his help Elizabeth kept the day-to-day business of the paper running as smoothly as possible.

President Lincoln had ordered the blockade of southern ports and when the Norfolk Virginia navy yard was evacuated, Rawleigh was there. He seemed to be gone more than he was in the city as the war spread and he followed it.

It was the middle of May before he returned for an extended period of time. He filed his most recent stories then seemed unwilling to leave again, hanging around the Gazette offices like a lost waif. Finally, one evening, Joseph decided he'd had enough of it.

"Dinner, and you will tell me what is going on with you while we eat," he said firmly to the younger man.

"As you wish," Rawleigh replied with ill grace. But the brief flare of relief that crossed his face belied his tone of voice.

After they were seated in a small restaurant not too far from the Gazette with their dinners ordered, Joseph leaned back, looking appraisingly at his employee. "Has something happened in your travels that you don't wish to tell me? Perhaps you've met someone special and want to move to where they are?"

And if that doesn't get him to open up about what I firmly suspect is bothering him… although I hope I'm wrong about it.

Rawleigh shook his head. "It's nothing like that."

"But there is something."

After taking a deep breath, Rawleigh nodded. "Please don't take this the wrong way"—he smiled slightly—"although I doubt there's a right way in which it can be taken. I find you… fascinating, as a person and as a man. There, I've said it! Now you can feel free to tell me I am wrong to think that way then send me packing."

"Now why would I object to being flattered by a handsome young man?"

"It's not flattery. Well, perhaps it is, but not in the way you are taking it." Rawleigh leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table. "I… there is no way to say this except straight out. I am a man who likes men," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper.

Joseph nodded. "I had figured that out, so you're not telling me something I wasn't already aware of."

"I suppose I should be happy you're not shocked."

"Why would I be? I've met a few men who enjoy same-sex love, although they keep it to themselves as much as possible."

"Then how do you…?" Rawleigh's eyes widened. "You are one of them? Of us?"

Joseph chuckled softly. "Indeed."

Rawleigh seemed to contemplate his admission, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the table. Eventually he asked, very hesitantly, "Do you find me interesting?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. However, before you get your hopes up, I am celibate and have been so for many years. I find it safer that way, as my enemies would happily use it against me if they found out."

And please God let him believe my lie.

"I wouldn't tell anyone, I swear. I know how to keep secrets. Well"—a tiny smile turned his lips up—"personal secrets. Given that I'm a reporter, most others are just fodder for my stories."

"And when… if we were to act on our needs and you were to become disenchanted, then what? Would I become fodder too?"

"Never!" Rawleigh protested. "Do you think I'm that dishonorable?"

Joseph chuckled. "You are a reporter. Some people would say dishonor comes with the job."

"But not you." Hope limned Rawleigh's face as he asked.

"I've known honorable reporters—and others. Not many, but a few."

For the moment, Rawleigh had to be satisfied with Joseph's reply since the waiter appeared with their meals. Once they began to eat, he attempted several times to continue their conversation only to be met with apparent disinterest from his dining companion.

Finally they were finished. Joseph beckoned for the waiter, asked for the bill, and paid it before standing. "Let's walk off our meal," he said shortly, heading to the door without waiting to see if Rawleigh followed.