She hated the city. Ever since she was a little girl and had been dragged in to visit her father, the packed buildings and the crush of people had made her itch for her country home. It was even worse now, but she had a duty to her father. Ever since the divorce, he had found comfort with one bimbo after another, some barely older than her. The latest one, Candi ‘ oh my gosh!’ Evens had a voice that after five minutes made her run for the door. It was not their fault, but compared to her ferocious mother, these children seemed mere shades. Nevertheless, it made her father happy and she would not begrudge him happiness after the years of fighting that had torn her family to shreds. If this new peace meant putting up with Candi, then so be it. But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy visiting this concrete jungle.
      Every fibre of her being screamed for space and fresh air. The scents assailed her and the garish lights made her retreat to a dark alleyway. Her father still did not know the truth about her and she doubted he even noticed that she had left the flat. She paced the streets by day and skulked in the shadows by night. She found enough food here and it was easy pickings, but it was tainted and made her ill. She would have to leave the city soon and return to her home, making vague promises of returning. She glanced up the sky, searching for the familiar stars, but could see none in the blinding glare of the streetlights. She sighed heavily before slipping out into the smothering darkness.
      His walk betrayed his unfamiliarity with his surroundings. It was the walk of a victim, quick but with frequent glances to determine where he was. Any human predator, such as the thieves or murders who lurked in places such as these, would recognise it from miles away. As it was, he attracted something far more dangerous. It raised his head as he passed, peeling back it's lips to taste the air and grinned viciously as his scent revealed the hunter’s prize: fear. This bloody shadow detached itself from the gloom of the alleys and began to track him.
      He could hear someone behind him and instinctively he quickened his pace. Whoever it was kept in step with him and he felt the first flicker of fear. Stories of rape and murder rushed through his mind and the fear stretched out one icy hand and clamped it firmly on the back of his neck. He veered away from the path, desperately searching for the bright lights and crowded places that could hide him, but as he did not know the city he only succeeded in running into a dark alley. He could see his hotel ahead and knew that he had only a few more streets to go, but the sound of whatever was following him slinking into the alley made the distance seem miles. He kept walking, faster and faster, until fear took over and he broke into a run. His pursuer also began to run, gaining on him effortlessly. He sprinted hard, tearing over the ground as fear leant him wings, but even as he ran he could feel it getting closer. He could hear its breathing and feel its hot breath on his shins and then a huge weight slammed into his back. It had sharp claws that shredded his flimsy shirt and a long muzzle that was pressed into the back of his neck. It was thickly furred and very, very big if its weight was anything to go by. Its jaws closed around him and he closed his eyes, hoping that the beast would kill him before it began feeding. What was it? What kind of person would allow a dog this large to roam the streets? Why hadn’t anyone caught it? The questions were abruptly driven from his mind as he felt the claws slid under his arms and he was suddenly flipped over. He stared at its fearsome claws, slavering jaws and the abject hunger in its eyes and knew for certain that this was no dog. This was a wolf, but one so big that it was almost human size. It was a deep grey that faded to silver underneath, a truly beautiful animal. It had the strangest eyes, a grey-blue with a ring of amber in the centre. It was sitting at his feet, staring at his face. There was intelligence in that look, this was no mindless killing machine. In fact, for a wolf to be in the city and attacking men, it must be starving. Strangely, it seemed well fed. It padded forward, placing its paws carefully on his chest. It seemed anxious not to hurt him, a change of heart that he welcomed. It leant in to his face, rubbing its muzzle against his cheek and inhaling his scent. Something flicked through the strange eyes, something that looked a little like confusion and a little like recognition. It was stupid, he told himself, animals do not feel, but he could have sworn he saw emotions in those eyes. He did not move, fearful of angering it, so lay as still as he could as it exploring his form. He understood a little about wolves and knew they relied mostly on scent for identification. It was almost as if it wanted to find out who he was. It crossed his mind that this could be an escaped wolf, and that perhaps he smelled a little like one of its keepers. If this was the case, it might associate him with the bringing of food – or it might try to kill him, for fear of capture.
      The wolf sat back on its haunches and eyed him carefully. He was not dangerous and something about his scent was almost comforting. It nagged at the buried part of its mind and so it merely watched him, trying to decide what to do. It was not going to kill him, but it didn’t want to let him go either. The man lay still, watching it watch him and slowly the fear-scent faded away. As he watched the wolf, it did not seem threatening anymore. It was curious about him, he realised, and for whatever reason, it was probably not going to hurt him. He slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, keeping an eye on the wolf, ready to drop back at any sign of displeasure. When none was forthcoming, he carefully stood up, wincing slightly as the scratches in his back were still painful. The wolf rose with him and he realised with a start just how big it was. He was about 6' and the wolf’s head was nearly level with his own. It still made no move on him, and he was beginning to think it might just let him pass when a sudden fireball ripped through the night sky. He lifted his head, dazzled by the brilliance and when his sight returned, the alleyway was empty. He limped stiffly forward and found a burning car surrounded by people. He recognised the car and the owner screaming at the unruffled policeman as his brother, David. He walked towards his brother, grinning as David finally gave up harassing the policeman and turned his attention to the firemen struggling with what remained of his car. His brother was known as the drama queen of the family and so, with a suitably injured expression, David only noticed his brother once his car was totally doused.
      “Patrick! Look at my beautiful car! Where have you been? What the hell happened?” Patrick shrugged, not the most pain-free movement he could have chosen. Something kept him silent about the wolf, something he couldn’t place. Not that it mattered, he thought, the zoo will catch it soon enough. But underneath this rational denial, a part of him longed to see the mysterious animal again.
      There had been something there that night, something that touched the hunger she could not appease and something that had calmed his fear. He had not understood of course, but the fact that he had not run screaming from her had been an experience that she had never thought possible. That something had asserted itself many times…
      Patrick was always on edge in the city, feeling claustrophobic in the tangled streets and isolated in his room. He was only here to attend a prestigious party with David, a party with the sole purpose of displaying him as marriageable material. David and his older brother George had married last year, and now the pressure was on to find him a wife. Patrick did not in the least want to get married, as he simply hadn’t found anyone he wanted to settle down with. His longest relationship so far had been two months as he believed in short, two- or three- week flings that satisfied him but did not reveal his true side. He was intensely private and would not let anyone get through his shields. His family knew this, yet they insisted on taking to cities and forcing him into a social whirl, in the hope of him eventually giving up and resigning himself to his fate.
      Tonight, it was David’s turn to drag him to an opening night party at ‘Lunar’, a brand new nightclub owned by one of David’s influential friends. Patrick was reluctantly shepherded into the waiting limousine, dressed smartly by a hired ‘fashion assistant’ (one of David’s more successful ideas) and whisked away into the night. He stared gloomily out of the window and cast his mind back to the wolf the night before. He was about to mention it to David when the limousine slid to a halt. Patrick's cloud of depression lifted as they stepped into the club entrance. No matter what the ulterior motives for inviting him, he always enjoyed a good party. The music blared from the wall, a thumping rhythm that pounded through Patrick's veins. The club was full of the snobs and hangers-on always invited, but a few lucky ‘normal’ people had won tickets in a charity raffle. The dance floor was crammed with these ordinary dancers, and with them were the elite’s prodigal sons and daughters. All in all, not the worst crowd of people to be with but certainly not the best. Patrick smiled and nodded pleasantly for a few minutes and then left David to work his charm on the businessmen.
      Patrick had been dancing for hours and now his legs felt as if he had been on a five mile run. He was almost exhausted and ready to leave, so he pushed his way from the crowd and went to inform David he was going. The front door banged open behind him and he spun around, the rest of the club following. In the doorway stood a woman, who could have been the most attractive creature he had ever seen. The club took a collective breath and sighed at her entrance. She was tall and lithe with hard muscles that spoke of many hours at the gym. That is not to say she was bulky, far from it, but in this crowd of soft indoor people, her fitness shone out like a beacon. She had a mane of fiery hair that cascaded over her shoulders and framed a face that was not beautiful but one that you would remember for life. Her lips were a little too full, her nose too large for the oval face and her skin was far too pale, but the eyes stood out, piercingly blue-grey, the eyes of a predator. Separately, her features were nothing special but collectively they made her stunningly attractive. Patrick knew by now that what made a woman attractive was not just her body, but the attitude that went with it, and this woman was strong and intelligent, and always got what she wanted. She glided across the floor towards him, at once an elegant and sensual movement, as the club came back to life. The music started afresh and the woman took his hand and led him to the dance floor. All Patrick's fatigue had disappeared and he was ready for anything the night might throw at him. The woman smiled at him and leaned in to him, whispering
      “My name is Athena. Are you ready?”
      “For what?” Patrick replied, but Athena merely smiled.
      Patrick yawned and stretched, struggling to open his eyes. He sat up, pushing through the fog of sleep as his memories from last night came back through the dream world. He reached over to the other side of the bed and felt the warm, rumpled sheets that betrayed he had not slept alone last night. A sudden image of Athena flashed through his mind as it all came back and he smiled. It was not unusual for him to bring back a girl from a club, but it was unusual for it to go as well as it had last night. Athena had been fierce, almost animal-like and he had tired long before she had. In fact, he remembered drifting off as she stroked his hair, a reversal he was not accustomed to. Fully awake, he looked around the room, but he couldn’t see any trace of her. Her clothes were gone, as was her bag and there was not even a forgotten lipstick to say she had spent the night. Patrick was a little disappointed at this, as he would have liked a longer relationship, maybe three or four nights, but showered and got dressed without any further emotion.
      “Good morning sir! You have one message!” the overly enthusiastic receptionist beamed as Patrick slouched down the stairs. He took the slip of paper and trudged to the breakfast hall, where David was preening about some offer that had been made at the party. Patrick slumped into the chair, oblivious to his brother’s natterings and opened his message. The piece of paper was doused in a musky perfume and read:
      ‘You did well Patrick. Will you be ready tonight?’ Patrick didn’t need the signature to know who it was and a slow grin spread across his face.
      Athena crept in through the open window and gratefully collapsed into her bed. One of the benefits of being in the city was that her father’s eyes and ears weren’t as sharp as they should be. This was the fifth night that she had slunk in through the ground floor window, and so far her father was oblivious to her nightly wanderings. A sudden waft of cheap perfume alerted her, and she sat up just as Candi flipped the light switch on. Candi strode in, hands on hips, righteous indignation written all over her face.
      “Well! I always knew that you were trouble, ever since I laid eyes on you, and now I’m certain of it. Sneaking in at what, six in the morning? You should be ashamed of yourself. After all your father does for you, you throw it in his face!” Normally Athena would have let the shutters come down and merely switched off, but Candi had picked a bad time to annoy her.
      “Candi, shut up. Just shut up. I’m not sneaking in, I’m being considerate because I thought you and my father were asleep and why should I be ashamed? I go out, I have fun, and I come back alone. What exactly is it you think I owe my father? My mother gives me everything I need and I only come here for my father’s company. I owe him nothing and I owe you less. You are an empty-headed, cardboard personality, trend following, simpering child! I am two years younger than you are and I know more than your tiny brain could ever comprehend! If my father likes shopping in the junior department, so be it. If he wants to keep you around for whatever reason, I don’t care. But if you dare presume you can act like my mother, I will take you out in a second. Compared to me you are a mindless bimbo and compared to my mother you are leaves blowing in the wind. Be grateful I have not hurt you child, because what I could do would terrify you to your very soul. Do not push me little one, for you will not win. Now get out for I wish to sleep. Get out!” Candi seemed stunned by Athena’s fury and stiffly walked out of the room. Athena relaxed, surprised at her own reaction, and sank into sleep.
      Patrick was in ecstasy. His nights were filled with Athena’s warm embrace and his days with her sweet company. He had been forced to stay in the city to help David with the launch of his new restaurant, a joint venture with Paul Something-or-other and somehow Patrick was to play a vital role. He couldn’t understand just why he was needed, but if staying meant seeing Athena he wasn’t complaining. He had been with Athena for a month now, a serious relationship in his experience, yet he knew almost nothing about her. He had found himself talking to her for hours, sharing his innermost feelings, an experience that scared him because, almost without trying, she had breached his defences. She knew everything about him and all he knew of her was her name, age and that she liked dancing. Of course they had talked about paintings or favourite songs, but the real Athena eluded his grasp. She was hiding something, he was certain of it and it had something to do with the nights when she left him, to return early in the morning. Patrick didn’t think Athena realised he was awake those nights or that he knew she came back sweating and breathing hard. He suspected that she might be seeing someone else, but then they had never decided that they were in a relationship. They were together but he wasn’t sure if she felt they were a couple or not.
      Those nights when she did leave he would go to the window sometimes and stare at the city. He sometimes saw the wolf on those nights and was irrationally pleased that it was free. It really was huge and he wondered what it lived on, for an animal as big as that could not survive on scraps. It was well fed, whatever its diet, and it prowled the alleyways beneath the hotel as if it was waiting for someone. The thought occurred to him that it was waiting for him, but Patrick dismissed it as a flight of fancy. It was an animal, it wouldn’t even remember him, much less wait for him.
      Patrick lay pretending to be asleep as Athena slipped out the door. He couldn’t bring himself to follow her, but after she left he was so restless that he rose and went to the window. The wolf wasn’t in its usual position in the alley, and Patrick’s restlessness increased. Bored and slightly irritated, Patrick left his room and went for a walk. He wandered around the streets, dark thoughts about Athena and her other lover running through his mind until he reached the park. The trees towered above him, black shadows that sighed as he passed. The wind tugged at him and howled, sliding through the trees and making the moonlit patches flicker and dance. Patrick looked up the sky and the brilliant moon, a silver crescent in the velvet canopy, and smiled at the beauty. He was brought back to earth when a woman’s scream ripped through the night air. Patrick ran towards the sound, heedless of the twigs that snapped underfoot to alert whatever lurked in the bushes and burst into a clearing. The woman lay on her back, glassy eyes staring at nothing, blonde hair tangled and bloody. A deep gash marred her white throat and a trickle of blood still ran down to the pool beneath her. A huge form was hunched over her, muzzle deep within her chest and the wolf raised its head to stare menacingly at Patrick. Blood dripped from its jaws and those familiar eyes were cold and hard. It raised its hackles but as it sniffed the air, the aggression left its body. It left its grisly meal and padded towards him. Patrick staggered back, desperate to get away from the nightmare and tripped over a large stone. He closed his eyes and curled up, certain that he would die just like that woman had. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be ready.” That familiar voice, soft with a harsh tone underneath. It couldn’t be, the fear was clouding his mind.
      “You were supposed to see the beauty before the savagery. You were supposed to understand.” He opened one eye and shut it again, denying what he saw.
      “How could you think I was human?” Athena walked forward and sat next to him, shaking away the last traces of fur.
      “I won’t hurt you. Did I hurt you in the alleyway?” Those eyes, the icy blue-grey eyes with the amber ring. Those eyes watching him as he cowered in the alley, those eyes burning into him as they lay together, the same eyes that now begged him to listen. Patrick stood up, carefully not looking at her.
      “What are you?” he croaked. She rose with him, reaching for his hand but then letting hers drop.
      “I am loup-garou. A werewolf.”
      “But it’s not a full moon.” She sighed, irritation creeping into her voice.
      “I was hoping I could avoid this now. A werewolf is a creature that is not human. You are born a werewolf and you cannot be made a werewolf. I have two forms, a human body and a wolf body. I decide which I wear. I can turn at nay time and I am one or the other. Loup-garou means wolf-man and that is what we are: a human or a wolf. We cannot be half-and-half like the Hollywood werewolves, and we can be killed the same way you can. A silver bullet will kill me and so will a regular one if it hits me in the right place. We have no special powers or healing abilities, we are just like you except that we can mould our bodies into a wolf shape. It is always my mind and personality, but I cannot speak in wolf form, as wolves do not the vocal chords needed for speech. When I left you was when the city became too much for me, as in wolf form we can tolerate more than in our human form. Even in my human form I have heightened senses, I can smell much better than you can and my hearing is better. I think wolfishly even in human shape, as that is who I am. I am one person no matter what my shape and that person has both human and animal traits.” Patrick's head swam with all this information as he tried to understand what she was saying.
      “So…are your parents werewolves? Will you live longer? Why do you kill humans? Do you…I’m sorry but there’s so many questions.”
      “I understand. My mother is loup-garou and my father divorced her when he found out. He wouldn’t listen to her explanations and he still thinks she is the Hollywood type of werewolf. He doesn’t know about me and I was staying with him and his girlfriend. He goes through them at an incredible rate and this one was only two years older then I am. She tried to discredit me and turn my father against me, she yelled and hit me so I hit back.” Athena gestured at the corpse behind her. “I don’t usually kill humans but if provoked I will fight back. I have never killed an innocent and I usually hunt rabbits or deer back home. There’s not much prey in the city. I could live to be two hundred but most of my kind find a mate and then die with them. We loup-garous cannot mate successfully together so we chose a human partner. The offspring of two werewolves will be stillborn, as our genes are too similar. As a population we are very small and so inbreeding would decimate us. It is a natural way to increase our kind.” This talk of genes had confused him a little, but he understood that loup-garous only mated with humans and that was the important part.
      “So, are all the children of a werewolf and a human guaranteed to be werewolves?”
      “No, it’s 50/50 whether they will be or not. You do know that when I say mate, I mean mate for life. Wolves’ chose one partner and stay with them until they die and while loup-garous may have many lovers, we only ever have one Mate. My mother will never again be Mated, no matter how many humans she takes to her bed.”
      “When you say mate, you mean marriage.” It was a statement, not a question.
      “What is marriage to you?”
      “Marriage is when two people swear to love each other for ever and never love anyone else.”
      “Yes, except that we can physically love as many people as we want, but only love, as in mentally and spiritually love, one person. We will die with that person.”
      “Do you have friends of your kind? Do you have a ruler, a community?”
      “No, we stay away from each other. We are all pack animals but we make our packs from family. If I meet another of my kind I will talk with them, and I have werewolf friends that I have made when passing through their territory, but we do not have a real community. My pack is my mother and grandfather, as they are the only loup-garous living in my bloodline. I include my grandmother, aunts, and uncles in my pack, but not my father. He divorced a loup-garou, meaning that she will never again know love and so he is outcast. I still see him, as I am part human and harbour affection for my father, but he will never be a real part of my life. And what about you? You know me now, really know me. I will understand if you leave, after all, I’m not human, and you only want a fling. There are plenty of better-looking human girls out there who don’t have hidden secrets like mine. Will you be part of my life?” Patrick stared at her, his beautiful lover who was also a terrifying beast. Did he want to continue? They had been together a month or so, a good relationship for him. Normally they would break up soon anyway, so did he want to be with her? He stared into those beautiful, hungry eyes and decided.
      Patrick was standing on the dew-tipped grass, staring at the moon. His silhouette was clear to the woman who stood behind the curtain. She watched him, angry that he had defied her again. She had asked, pleaded, and finally commanded him to stop wandering out at night, but still when she rose in the small hours of the morning, there he was. He simply stood, head back, focused on the moon and stars. She couldn’t understand what the attraction was. When he was supposed to check on the children at night, she would go see how he was doing and find that he had left them in their crib while he gazed at the sky. Not that these hardy children needed much care, she had never known children so young be so self-sufficient, but when she left who knew what would happen to them? He insisted on calling them cubs and would take them out with him, into the freezing night air where they would surely catch their death. Patrick’s mother left the window and went back to sleep. Patrick stood admiring the moonlight and drinking in its intoxicating power. One of the benefits of the Mating was this sense of the strength of the night. He tore himself away as Athena slipped out the shadows. She padded over to him and he stroked her silvery head. Without a backward glance to his human house, he ran with his wolf mate into the shadows. Back in the house, the tiny cubs whimpered in their sleep as their parent’s joyous howl spread through the night air.

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