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I woke up in the middle of the night to find Wyatt's side of the bed empty. Damn his sleep habits! I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I woke up again, it was just beginning to dawn. Wyatt was sitting on the bed next to me. I stretched. "Good morning." He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Did you sleep well?" "Yes. You were pretty fantastic last night." "So were you." I sat up and snuggled into him at the head of the bed. "You said you have one more thing to tell me about your family. What's the big secret?" "Okay. Remember that we're bonded. I'll love you always." He stood up beside the bed. "It's probably easier to show you than to explain it." Just then a wolf howled outside. It sounded very close. Wyatt stood completely still for a few seconds, then in a very calm voice said, "There's danger coming. You need to get everyone protected under their beds or under some other kind of cover until I get back." "I don't understand. What's going on?" He ran over to the window, opened the sash as wide as it would go, then turned back to me and said, "Someone's coming. That was Nash's warning ‑ and this is our last secret." I watched in stunned disbelief as Wyatt's body changed shape! Hair sprouted all over his body; his nose and jaw elongated; he dropped down on all fours. Within four or five seconds a wolf . . . my wolf . . . stood in his place. I couldn't do or say anything. I was too shocked. The wolf . . . my wolf . . . my Wyatt . . . looked back at me, gave a shake of his head, leaped out the open window, and disappeared into the dim dawn light. HOLY SHIT!!!! Was I dreaming? I had to be dreaming. I rubbed my eyes. I patted my cheeks. I wasn't dreaming. My lover, my soul-mate, was a werewolf. Danger. He'd said someone was coming. I had to warn the others. My legs began to move. It seemed like minutes before I was able to reach the bedroom door, but it was really only seconds. Rick was looking out one of the living room windows. He wore a pair of boxers that had obviously been pulled on in haste, because they were rolled at the top and only fully covered one of his ass cheeks. He looked over at me, "Did you hear that? It sounded like a wolf, and it was really close!" "It was a wolf. Wyatt's gone outside. He said to get everyone up and under cover. He thinks there's some danger." The tone of my voice must have triggered his FBI training. "Get Nathaniel, and take cover in the bathtub. Now!" I headed toward Nathaniel's room as Rick ran back into the room he and Jeremy were sharing. I literally pulled my uncle out of his bed and hustled the confused man toward the bathroom. Rick emerged from their bedroom with his service pistol in one hand and pulling a naked Jeremy behind him with the other. He pushed Jeremy toward me and ran to the door as we heard the sound of a vehicle in the driveway. Rick opened the door and was met with gunfire. He fell backward. Jeremy, Nathaniel, and I dropped to the floor. Despite the bullets tearing through the open doors and windows, Jeremy and I began crawling toward Rick. His hand was moving, so we knew he was still alive. Given the amount of blood spreading on the floor, I suspected he wouldn't be alive long unless we did something to stop the flow of blood from his wounds. The hail of gunfire stopped as abruptly as it had started, and was replaced by the screams of at least two different men. With the gunfire stopped, Jeremy and I moved quickly to Rick's prone form. He had a bullet wound in his upper leg. Judging from the flow of blood, the bullet had hit one of the large veins in his thigh. That was bad, but at least it wasn't the femoral artery. I told Jeremy to bring me a belt, and I put as much pressure on the wound as possible with my hands. My focus was on helping Rick, so it barely registered in my mind that the screams and cries of our two assailants had been replaced by the sound of their car retreating back up the driveway. Jeremy appeared at my side with a belt. I quickly looped it around Rick's thigh and pulled it tight. I instructed Jeremy to keep tension on the belt and began to examine Rick for other wounds. There was a lot of blood on the side of his head. I felt around the wound; a sense of relief washed over me, because I couldn't detect any entry wound. The bullet had apparently just grazed his head and knocked him out. I sensed Wyatt's presence before he spoke. "How's Rick? Anyone else hurt?" I looked up. He was back in his human form and kneeling on the other side of Rick. Nash, naked as a jaybird, stood behind him. Movement at the edge of the woods caught my eye. A wolf appeared briefly, then retreated back into the trees. A moment later a very naked Morgan emerged from the trees at that same spot. It all came together in my mind. Nash had been guarding the house in his wolf form. Morgan must have become a wolf, and ran all the way from Wyatt's place when he heard Nash's alarm howl. I looked back at Wyatt, "The bullet hit a major vein in his leg. He's lost a lot of blood. I don't know if he'll make it." "We can help." Wyatt turned and nodded to Nash. Without a word, Nash went into the kitchen and returned with a carving knife. Wyatt reached out and touched Jeremy's arm. "Go check on Nathaniel. Call 911; tell them we need an ambulance and the sheriff." Jeremy started to protest, but saw the determined look on Wyatt's face. He quickly got up and moved away. Wyatt motioned for Nash and Morgan to move in closer. They stretched out their forearms, and Wyatt quickly drew the knife across their arms opening long cuts. He did the same thing to his own arm. The three men leaned forward and allowed their blood to flow over the bullet wound in Rick's thigh. Wyatt used his forefinger to push their blood into the open wound. The bleeding stopped almost immediately! "Our blood acts very quickly when introduced into another's body. He won't lose any more blood from this wound. What about his head?" "I think that's just a crease. I didn't find an entrance wound." "Good." Wyatt wiped the last drops of blood from the rapidly closing wound on his arm and applied them to Rick's head wound. "That should take care of it." He turned to Nash and Morgan, "You guys go back to my place. Come back over in the truck. Morgan, was Jack with you last night?" "Yes. I told him to call 911 as I left." "Did he see?" "I don't think so. If he did, we'll talk. Even if he didn't see me change, I'll need to talk with him soon." "I know. You guys better get away before the sheriff and ambulance get here." Morgan and Nash nodded, then quickly moved to the woods and disappeared. "What should we tell the cops?" "The truth . . . but not all of it. We'll tell them I was awake and heard the car come in the driveway. I got out of the house before they got out of their car and was able to come at them from behind when they started shooting. They got spooked and left. We don't need to say anything about why they got spooked, or what spooked 'em. Okay? If they get caught, no one will believe a story about being attacked by wolves. Everyone will think they turned chicken and ran." He looked at Jeremy and Nathaniel. "That works for me," I responded. "Me, too," answered Jeremy. "I don't care what happened; I'm just concerned about Rick." "I agree," Nathaniel replied. Wyatt coked his head to one side. "I hear the sirens coming now." He pointedly looked down at my lap, "We'd all better pull on some clothes. I don't want the EMTs or sheriff's deputies to get the hots for my mate." He went into the bedroom and emerged in a pair of cargo shorts. He tossed another pair of shorts to me, which I quickly pulled on. The sound of the sirens grew in the distance. Nathaniel came over to stand next to Jeremy, who was kneeling beside Rick. He looked at Wyatt, "Wyatt, didn't you tell me your original surname was Volvkulak?" "That's right." "The Ukrainian language is similar to Russian in many ways. Volvkulak translates to English as 'wolf man.' Are you aware of that?" "Yes. My father said Grandfather wanted to hide our origin as well as Americanize the family name. His patronymic name was Ivanovic, Johnson in English. That's why he chose that name." "Please don't explain any further. I know the old legends. I don't need to know more; the less I know, the safer you and your family are." Just then two sheriff's deputies pulled their Crown Victorias into the driveway. Chaos reigned for a while. We first had to explain to the deputies about the gunfire and the reason for the 911 calls from us and Jack. The ambulance arrived, and Rick was soon on his way to the hospital in Gladstone. Jeremy insisted on riding along. The EMTs were reluctant to allow it, but Rick had regained consciousness by that point, and stated very strongly that he wanted Jeremy with him. Nash, Morgan, and Jack arrived shortly after the ambulance. Jack looked a little dazed, so I figured . . . correctly . . . that Morgan had filled him in about some of the peculiarities of the Johnson clan. It turned out we didn't need to worry about stories told by the gunmen. In their panic to escape Wyatt and Nash in their wolf form, they missed a sharp curve in the road and slammed head-on into a tree. Neither was wearing seat belts. The ER folks in Gladstone were amazed by how rapidly Rick recovered from his wounds. Two days after the incident, Special Agent Sykes from the Atlanta office of the FBI called to tell me that their suspect in the El Paso killings had been murdered in his cell. The FBI didn't think I would be bothered any more by the drug cartel. EPILOG All that happened four years ago. This weekend, everyone will come to the cottage for our annual commemoration of the events that changed all our lives. Where is everyone now? Rick received a commendation for bravery from the FBI. He's now the youngest person ever to be the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI office in Detroit. He and Jeremy live in one of the northern suburbs of Detroit, and Jeremy is a lecturer in history at Oakland University. Jack has just graduated from Northern Michigan University with a degree in management. Morgan followed him to Marquette, and started at NMU the next semester. He took class overloads each semester, so he and Jack graduated at the same time. They've just moved back to Nowhere. Jack is joining his family's business, and Morgan will teach English at Northern Forest High School, Jack's alma mater, in the fall. They'll live at Wyatt's old place across the lake from me. Nash went back to Montana after that summer. Following his graduation, he did some traveling up in Alaska, where he met his life-mate. Her father has HHIR, meaning she's a carrier, but doesn't display the 'changing' trait herself. They married and have just had their first child, a boy. There's no genetic test to determine the presence of the HHIR gene. We won't know for twelve to fourteen more years whether little Matthew will be a 'changer' or not. The trait only becomes apparent at puberty. Nathaniel is now 85. Physically, he's slower, but his mind is as sharp as ever. Soon after Jeremy left to live with Rick, Nathaniel found another houseboy. This one also does housework in the nude. He's a nice person, who seems to care a great deal about Nathaniel. I've seen him doing housework. He doesn't have as spectacular a physique as Jeremy, and he certainly isn't hung like Jeremy. However, Nathaniel doesn't seem to mind. He tells me, "At my age any guy under forty is attractive." As for Wyatt and me, we're doing just fine. I resigned from the CDC and took a job as one of the ER doctors at the hospital in Gladstone. Nathaniel transferred ownership of the cottage to me, and Wyatt built a new studio on the property. Wyatt's art and photography have attracted more notice, and he often travels to shows and exhibits, where his work is being displayed. I travel with him when I can. But sometimes our schedules don't match, so he'll be gone for several days. I look forward to his returns, because on his return, he always demonstrates just how happy he is that he's no longer a 'lone wolf.' The End
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