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Okay, so most days? Being a wizard is kind of freaking awesome. Like, seriously. Magic is, in fact, way cooler than anybody's ever made it out to be. Everything from a baby's laugh to the way the world smells after the rain is legitimately powerful magic. It's not just hunching over a smokey cauldron hissing 'double double toil and trouble' (though I did that once. Just to see. Disappointing actually), it's harnessing every part of the world and tapping into the power there. That baby's laugh? Sounds great to you, it's the beginnings of a thermonuclear level potion for me.
Yeah, most days? Being a wizard is totally fantastic.
And then there's days like today.
Today, well, magic fucking sucks.
Skidding behind a dumpster, sucking down breaths, I manage to lift my head and glare at my teacher. Well, when he stumbles in behind me I do. "Werewolves? They're really a thing? You couldn't have mentioned them before now?"
Alan shrugs, peering back the way we'd come. As teachers go, he's pretty solid. I know some wizards couldn't apprentice their way out of a paper bag, but he's not one of them and I've heard some stories since he took me on. Mostly, it's from other wizards and their apprentices that we meet up with, but the local wildfae talk too. And, well, people always get this look when they hear his name, like he's the second coming of that Dresden guy everybody keeps raving about. Whatever. I don't know if he is or he isn't, but I've seen him sling some pretty impressive spells and I haven't died horribly yet, so that's something.
Either way, he's taught me a lot. Most days, I can hold my own.
Most of the time.
If you haven't guessed already, this is not one of those times.
I swear, though, totally not my fault.
"We hadn't gotten to them yet," Alan looks at me and then grimaces. "It's not as simple as you think." He points his staff at the dumpster, muttering a word under his breath, and a burst of pure force pushes it into place across the mouth of the alley.
Against the thing that's chasing us, it's not much protection, but I get the feeling it's not supposed to be. Yeah, this would be why today is not one of the 'magic is awesome yay' days.
Satisfied, Alan nods and turns to go. I give the sky (and whoever's up there watching) a why me look and tnen follow. "So it's not just howling at the moon once a month?"
He snorts. "We should be so lucky; behavior depends on the variation."
Fucking fantastic. "Variation? There's more than one kind?"
"Oh, several," Alan assures, tone blithe, which makes my blood run so cold it's a wonder Mab doesn't come calling. "The one that's pursuing us is a loup garou."
I nod. "I've read about--" the look he gives me shuts that one down. "BS?"
"Total."
"Fantastic." A snarling roar fills the air and we pick up the pace. The thing seems focused on us, which is probably for the best, but no need to take our time and find out. "So the skinny on them is?"
"It's a curse. Loup garou is inherited, like many werewolves, but they have no control over their shifted form. They're ordinary people most of the time, but during the full moon, they shift and..."
"People start dying?"
"Yes. If they know about the curse, most people take protection, but those that don't--" Alan sighs. "They might not even know they're killers."
"Is there a way--"
"To change that? Not that I know of," Alan sighs, sadly, and I blink in horror.
"It's Scott, isn't it? I haven't seen him in the last couple of days and he said he was sick--"
"No, it's not Scott, but he is still in danger just the same." Alan opens a door and I realize, somehow, he's managed to get us back to the clinic. He pushes me inside and then follows me in, pulling the door shut behind him. "I think the loup garou is Gerard Argent. I suspected as much a few years ago, but couldn't be sure, not until now."
"What changed your mind?"
"A friend. Her pack has lived in this area for generations, but they immigrated from France after witnessing a terrible massacre in the 1800s." Alan flicks on the lights. Like everything else here, they're old so it takes a second or two for them to kick in.
Wizards don't do so good with new tech. Yay for awesome cosmic powers, but boo to the total lack of modern toys. I miss my computer like you wouldn't believe.
I give them a dubious look, but Alan just keeps right on talking. "Laura's family has been watching the Argents ever since. She finally admitted it to me this year. They think that the perpetrator of the massacre was, in fact, the man sent to kill the beast. One of the Argents cursed to become a ravening beast during the full moon."
The roar sounds again, closer now, and I shiver. "So, uh, ravening beast, probably on its way here. Any plans?"
"Depends if you got it or not?"
I hold up a knife from the good cutlery. The good stuff. Mom had inherited it from her grandmother who'd brought it over when she'd immigrated.
"Yeah?"
Alan wiggles his fingers and I pass it over. Someone howls outside, but it's different than before, not the guy chasing us then.
With a smile, Alan goes to the door. He opens it and, no kidding, there is a fucking massive wolf standing outside. I gulp, but the way his smile widens, I'm guessing it's all good.
He holds up the butter knife. "Inherited silver."
Okay, so I'm a wizard, but I'm still kind of an apprentice and, hello, a teenager, so when the wolf transforms into a man, I think I can be forgiven for staring. Especially if the guy is as hot as this one is.
Also naked. Did I mention the part where he's naked?
Like really naked.
I might be drooling.
Does this count as bestiality?
Cause, yeah, the guy had wolf junk a minute ago and, so, I'm thinking there's a grey area. There has to be a grey area.
Why am I thinking about this right now?
The guy's eyes narrow and he takes the knife. "Real?"
I sputter and they look at me together. Same aggravation on their faces. Whatever. Fuck them, it's my mom's silverware. You do not fuck with a man's mother's silverware.
"It's a family heirloom," I finally manage. "Gramma would kill me for this."
Hotass naked guy sniffs at it. "If you're wrong, Gerard'll tear you to ribbons for her."
I gulp.
Right.
This isn't going to be fun at all.
Well, other than the part where there's a hot guy standing in front of me with his junk hanging out.
That's kind of awesome.
Well, it would be if he weren't glaring at me.
I groan. "It's real."
He looks at Alan. "We need to melt this down."
"Everything should be ready out back." Alan assures and hotass naked guy nods, heading back there.
I think I get credit for waiting until he's out of the room before asking. "Relative of your friend?"
"Her little brother."
"Huh." I start to shuck out of my coat, then remember the protective spells on it and, fuck it, might be a good idea to keep it on. "You never said what kind of werewolf they are."
"No, I didn't." Alan smiles again. "Strictly speaking? They aren't werewolves. Werewolves are men that learned to walk as wolves." He looks toward the door where, I gulp, hotass naked dude is listening. "And you aren't that, are you, Derek?"
Comfortable in his nudity, Derek shakes his head with a smile. I hadn't noticed his eyes before, but they almost glow in the light. "No."
"But--" I gesture to the whole naked thing. "Wolf."
Derek rolls his eyes at me. "Yes, I am."
I get it about a half-second before he says it. If werewolves were men that learned to walk as wolves, then maybe, there were wolves that learned to walk as men.
And I'm looking at one.
I gulp.
So, apparently I'm into bestiality now.