Werewolf: Impossible Love (4 page)

             
Serenity heard a splash and glanced back. A pike patrolled the shallows, eying her expectantly. She somehow couldn’t remember what part of her he was supposed to eat. Was it her eyes? Her tail?

             
The wendigo emptied its stomach on Serenity’s feet; she let out a final scream as it opened its mouth to devour her whole. Her pain reached a new peak as its lamprey teeth ground her flesh, working in a noisy spiral as she screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed

             
and shot upright in the bed, soaked in sweat and shaking.

             
“Down,” Linda said, motioning with the feather fan.

             
Serenity obeyed. She stared at the ceiling for maybe minutes, maybe hours, maybe days. Eventually, Linda’s singing stopped. The room remained in dead silence for a few moments, and then the smoke began to clear.

             
“You can stand now,” Linda said to Serenity. “Maybe speak, too, if you really have to.”

             
Serenity’s eyes went from Linda’s face to her leg—it certainly didn’t look like it was any better, but maybe there was no harm in trying. She marveled at how easy and painless it was to turn sideways and dangle her legs over the side of the bed.

             
“Go on,” Linda said, returning the rattle and the fan to their proper bags. “Get up.”

             
Wincing, Serenity eased some weight onto her right leg. Encouraged by the lack of pain, she put more weight on, and then more, until she was standing up on both feet.

             
“Holy shit,” she said, picking up one foot, then the other. She didn’t know what Linda had done—actually, most of her didn’t
want
to know.

             
“Hmph.” Linda shrugged and shook her head. “The spirits will get their price from you,” she said. “One way or another.”

             
“But I—”

             
“Don’t say a goddamn word about what you saw in there,” Linda said, fixing Serenity with a stony glare. “There’s a reason I don’t do this shit for
wasichu.
”

             
Serenity nodded, her jaw hanging open. “Okay,” she said.

             
Linda finished packing her satchel in silence and went to grab her coat. “Der Kommandant can fix whatever else is wrong with you,” she said. “And he’d better do a good job, because I don’t got time to deal with the rest of your wounds.”

             
With a swirl of snow and a slam of the door, Linda was gone. Serenity shivered in the cool breeze; with gentle, unsure steps, she made her way to the stove and opened the damper up.

             
As the flames began to come back to life, Yandel came back into the cabin. “Amazing, isn’t she?” he said, the admiration evident in his voice. “I hope you weren’t expecting Pocahontas—”

             
Serenity stared at him. “What did she do to me?”

             
Yandel shrugged and took his coat off.

             
She sat there in dazed silence, part unwilling and part unable to believe what had just happened. “So I guess you two go back a ways?” she ventured, hoping to at least get
some
explanation from him.

             
“Used to do some work for her father,” Yandel replied, going to the stove and taking the kettle off. “Then he died, and she took over his place looking after everybody’s health up in the valley.”

             
“Which valley?”

             
“That’s for me to know,” Yandel replied, “and for the Gubmint to not find out.”

             
“Oh.” Having been born and raised in Montana, Serenity was familiar enough with groups of radicals who hid out in mountain compounds until Uncle Sam came in with all the police brutality he could muster—but those were usually just run-of-the-mill crazy white people who really hated taxes. “Pretty intense,” she said.

             
“Yep.” Yandel filled the kettle and put it on the stove.

             
After a few minutes warming herself in front of the fire, Serenity turned to him again. “What’s your last name?” she asked.

             
“Wright,” he said. “Like the airplane kids.”

             
“Oh.” Serenity went to the kitchen table and sat down. “I thought you were German.”

             
Yandel’s back stiffened; he seemed to be staring straight ahead. After a moment, he turned and forced a smile onto his face. “Only on Oktoberfest,” he said. “Takes me a while to recover in time to be Irish for St. Paddy’s.”

             
Serenity crossed her arms. “She doesn’t do thank-you notes, does she?”
              “Not really,” Yandel replied. “As much as you were whining about that compound fracture, I think she understands that you’re probably as thankful as we white folk can get.”

             
“I hope so,” Serenity said. “I wouldn’t want to be on her bad side.”

             
She sat there and played the day over in her mind while the kettle heated up. People didn’t name their only daughter Serenity because they were the kind of folk who didn’t believe in magic at least a little bit. Still, this was way beyond anything that Serenity imagined actually happening to her.

             
The kettle boiled, and Yandel took it off the stove.

“Are you hungry?”
he asked as he fixed them both a mug of tea.

“Sort of,” Serenity said.

“Morphine kills your appetite,” Yandel replied. “You need to eat.” He set the tea down in front of her. “I hope you like moose.”

Moose came in the form of a big heaping bowl of reheated chili with plenty of cheese on top. Serenity found it in her to wolf the entire bowl down within a couple of minutes; the morphine may have numbed her appetite a little bit, but her body definitely knew it was time to eat.

“There’s more,” Yandel said, gesturing to the stove.

Serenity got up and helped her
self to a couple more ladles full. She had the second bowl almost down by the time she got back to the bed. Yandel seemed to approve, although he no longer seemed as quick to smile as he had been before.

Once he was done eating, he stood up and rolled his head from side to side.
“I’m gonna feed my mules and get some shit done,” he said as he went to the door for his coat and boots. “You go get some sleep—Linda only healed you about halfway.”

****

              Serenity happily followed his suggestion; she awoke briefly after dark when a frost-skinned Yandel crawled in between the sheets with her.

A night spent curled
safely in a man’s arms was a bit of a novelty to Serenity; doubts began to creep into her mind in the light of day and the absence of heavy painkillers. Yandel had risen out of bed before dawn and did not return until the sun was already up. Serenity watched him quietly as he set his bundle of firewood down and got the stove roaring full blast again.

             
He didn’t seem too interested in talking as he went about the business of making them breakfast. Serenity wondered if he shared the vague sense of wrongness that hung between them in the morning sunlight that filtered through the curtains above the bed.

             
The two of them ate their breakfast of ham and eggs without much conversation beyond polite grunts and glances at each other. Serenity didn’t know whether she should be assured by his awkwardness or even further worried by it.

             
As the morning ticked by on the kitchen clock, the two of them went about it in that same awkward quietude. Serenity lay on the bed, asleep or watching Yandel for signs that she had a mistake in trusting him with her body last night. Yandel did the dishes and made them coffee before disappearing outside for long enough that Serenity drifted off. When he returned, he was covered in snow. His eyes met Serenity’s for a few moments; neither of them smiled, and they looked away.

             
As he shuffled his coat and boots off, he let out a heavy sigh. “You should be good to ride a mule in about five days,” he said. “I’ll take you to Linda’s people, and they can get you safe passage to wherever you’re going.”

             
“I was thinking Red Lodge,” Serenity said. “They resorts are always looking for lift operators—”

             
“You sure you don’t want to go to Canada?” He flattened his mouth

             
“I’d have to stay here longer, then,” she said. “Wouldn’t I?”

             
“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Yandel sighed, walking back over to the bed. “But, I’m not the world’s best roommate—”

             
“I’m sorry, I just—” Serenity shook her head and took in a deep breath. “I just don’t know you.”

             
“You don’t want to know me,” Yandel snorted. “I mean, maybe biblically—”

Serenity’s eyes widened. Despite her fears—and good, reasonable fears they were—she couldn’t deny that Yandel’s body gave her a thrill like no other.

He looked at the ground, embarrassed. “I’m joking,” he said. “Joking.” He shook his head. “You’re still way too pretty for me.”
              “Stop it,” she said, half glaring and half smiling up at him. “You’re way too handsome to talk like that.”

             
He leaned down kissed her hard on the lips, holding her close to him with one massive hand. Serenity reached up to his shirt collar and pulled him down to the bed with her. She hopped up on her knees and straddled the giant, handsome man, running her hands up beneath his shirt. She tried to wiggle her hips against his, but yelped when one of the wounds on her leg reminded her that it still needed a while to heal.

             
“You okay?” Yandel asked, narrowing his brows.

             
“Yeah.” Serenity bit her lip. “Guess you’re still on top.”

             
He grinned and growled. “I guess so,” he said, pushing her off of him. Before she could react, he had her on her hands and knees, pinned to the bed while he stroked her lower lips with his fingers. He paused for a moment to take his shirt off and fling it to the floor.

Serenity shut her eyes and pressed her back against his chest, adoring the feeling of their two bodies being so close. Yandel reached down to unbuckle his belt. He pushed his pants and shorts down to the bed and pressed his cock against her as he leaned back down to nuzzle the nape of her neck.

“I’m a little confused,” he murmured in her ear. “What is it you want me to do to you, again?”

A blush spread across Serenity’s cheeks. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.

“What was that?” He pressed his body a little closer to hers.

“I want you to fuck me,” Serenity repeated, louder this time.

“Is that so?” Yandel parted her vulva with the fingers of one hand and slid his cock inside with the other, just deeply enough to make Serenity squirm. “You mean like this?”
              Serenity tried to drive her hips down on his shaft, but he held her ass steady with one hand. “No,” she whined, “I mean I want you to fuck me hard and deep and fast until both of us cum again.”

“I can do that,” Yandel growled, grabbing onto her hips and thrusting deeper and faster inside her. Serenity groaned, her hips circling and bucking of their own accord. Yandel let her take him inside her as deep as she could, now and then slapping her ass playfully or leaning down to nip at her ears and neck. Whenever Serenity looked up on him, she saw a broad, smug grin on his face.

He seemed to be enjoying every inch of her, stroking her breasts and ass and belly and thighs. Much to her relief, he avoided her wounded spots with fingers and took care not to touch her bruises too firmly. The more he touched her, the more aroused she got, and the more aroused she got, the deeper she was able to take him inside her. Yandel only had to stroke her clit for a few moments to send her plunging into an orgasm, wailing with ecstasy and clutching at the blanket as if she would fly off if she let go.

Yandel fucked her faster as she came, digging his fingers into the flesh of her waist. Serenity howled, her body too overwhelmed with joy and desire for her mind to keep up with it. When he came, he collapsed on top of her and pinned her to the bed.

Even after he rolled off, the two of them lay there in silence for what had to be several minutes. Serenity curled up at his side, resting her head against his chest and her right leg across his knees. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the top of her head.

             
After a while, he pushed her off him and sat up. “Think you can clean your own wounds this time?” he asked.

             
The corner of Serenity’s mouth ticked back. “I can try,” she said.