Monday, June 27, 2011
Jordy’s teeth chattered the whole way up the long gravel drive to the backwoods bar. “Seriously, Ray,” he said. “This has got to be your worse idea ever.”
Ray cackled and slapped his brother on the arm. “Don’t be such a wuss. These are she-wolves, bro! Hot as hell and ready to rumble!”
“How would you know? Have you ever, uh – ”
“Okay, not personally, but you heard about Willis, right?”
“I heard he’s still in the hospital.”
“That’s because he wasn’t careful. Us – ” Ray grinned. “We’re smarter than any friggin’ werewolf.”
Jordy offered up a sullen grunt. Ray shrugged it off. The residents of Talbot’s Peak thought they were oh-so-sneaky in hiding themselves from humans. They didn’t know Ray Moyer invented sneaky. He’d scoped out what was really going on in Talbot’s Peak, right down to the existence of the secret sex club out in the woods. They’d doused themselves with wolf musk so the mutts wouldn’t sniff them out. Hot animal sex, here we come!
Jordy had a disappointed look on his face, per usual. “It’s just a biker bar."
“Wait’ll we get inside.”
Nothing inside gave away the business’s true nature. Those unshaven dudes in the leather jackets could have been wolves or cats or accountants from Boise. No one gave the Moyer brothers so much as a second glance. “Toldja,” Ray whispered. “This’ll be cake.” Jordy just looked gloomy. Freakin’ wuss.
A man in a T-shirt with Dante’s on the front approached them. He sneezed and rubbed his nose. “Help you gentlemen?”
“We’re looking for action.” Ray winked broadly. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Of course, sir.” The man scratched his nose again. “This way.”
He led them down a flight of stairs to a crowded second bar. A rowdy band was rocking the joint with thrash metal. He guided Ray and Jordy to a table far enough from the stage to allow conversation. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a Loup-Garou, no chaser. He’ll have a beer.” Show you know the lingo and they won’t ask questions. “Listen, we didn’t bring dates. I was told we can get those here.”
“Half hour or hour, sir?”
“Hour.” Ray winked at Jordy. “If she can last that long.”
“I’ll check the rooms, and the state of their stamina, sir.” With a final sneeze, their waiter left them.
Ray thumped Jordy on the back. “What did I tell you? We’re in, bro! It only gets better from here. What Willis told me about wolf sex – ”
“How long was he in traction?”
“Look, if you’re just gonna piss on everything don’t even bother talking, okay?”
The waiter returned with their drinks and word that “dates” had been procured and would be joining them momentarily. Ray whapped Jordy on the shoulder again. Jordy morosely chugged on his beer. I’m never taking you anywhere again, Ray decided, and settled in to enjoy the band. For a bunch of monkeys with guitars, they weren’t all that bad.
Two smoking babes undulated over to their table. The willowy redhead in the filmy half-an-outfit moved like a dancer, which meant she probably had legs of steel. The other one was tall with hefty titties, and walked with a bold sashay that promised all sorts of action. As long as that baby-pink hair was a wig, Ray was good with it.
The redhead beelined straight for Jordy. “I’m Gypsy,” she purred. Ray couldn’t figure her species. He hoped she was a wolf. Serve Jordy right. “Our room is ready.” Jordy threw one last beseeching glance at Ray before he let the dancer haul him off.
Pinky wasted no time; she slithered onto Ray’s lap and got right down to business. “I’m Lola,” she said in a voice so deep she could pass for a guy in the dark. Ray snuck his hand under her skirt, just to be safe. Nope, nothing stashed down there. “The rooms are full up, so it’s you, me, and the drink you’re going to buy me for the next couple of minutes. How’s that sit with you?”
Not half as good as her on his lap. Lola twined herself around him like a boa constrictor and stuck her tongue halfway down his throat. What the hell, he’d never been one for small talk. For the next couple of minutes they tonsil-boxed and groped each other in what must pass for foreplay among shifters. Lola’s gyrations in his lap boded well for the hour to come.
“Damn, you taste good,” she hissed against his mouth. “I could just swallow you whole.”
“Save some for – ” Ray started, then abruptly stopped. He had his hand up her skirt again. Only this time his hand found something that he swore hadn’t been there the first time. Something just as firm and twisty as the rest of her.
He jerked his hand to freedom and stared at her with a sinking feeling in his gut. On a queasy impulse, he grabbed her hair and yanked. It came off, revealing a dark, tousled mop underneath. “Shit! You’re a guy!”
“I’m way more than that, chico.” Lola flicked her tongue at him. Her green eyes had slitted pupils. How the hell had he missed that? “We don’t go for monkey-boys trying to slip into our dens.”
Her arms withdrew. No, her arms receded. Her sinuous body lost its limbs altogether. Suddenly Ray had his hands full of a man-sized, writhing snake in a sequined evening gown. The snake poured itself out of the plunging neckline and tried to coil around him.
Even the thrash metal wasn’t loud enough to cover Ray’s screech. He upended both the chair and the table in his leap to freedom. He plunged headlong for the exit. The snake gave him a look of mild annoyance, but didn’t pursue.
Minutes later Lamar, with his dress, wig and stilettos in hand and the Hooded Cobra safely tucked back into its pouch, made his way backstage. Jamie met him with folded arms and a scowl on his face. “You all done playing dress-up?” he said.
“Oooo. I do believe somebody’s jealous. Jesu Cristo, querida. He was a human. Like I’m going to mess with an ape.” He tried to peer beyond Jamie’s shoulders. “How’d Gypsy make out?”
“Boy took one look at Sergei and lit out like his ass was on fire. She’s gone to tell Dante the invasion’s over. What the hell’s wrong with them boys? Their own shes ain’t good enough, they gotta try for ours?”
“Hey, they’re humans. Stupidity comes with the genes.” Lamar held up the evening gown. “Does this dress make me look fat?”
Ray and Jordy reached the truck at the same time. Ray fumbled the keys out of his pocket while Jordy scrambled into the cab. They shot down the gravel road a helluva lot faster than they’d traveled up it. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit,” Jordy kept chanting. Ray didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes fixed on the road.
Finally Jordy changed his tune. “Big. Big big big big.”
“Big what?” Ray said. Not that he wanted to know.
“Big guy in her room. Hadda be ten feet tall. I don’t know what the hell he was. She shoved me inside and this big guy’s in there, white as a fish belly, and he says, `I kill you now.’ Man, I’m lucky I got out of there intact. What’d they do to you? Dammit, bro. You’re all sweaty.”
“Nothing,” Ray snapped. “We’re going home.” Back to Idaho, where men were men and the women weren’t men or snakes or anything else. He shot the truck onto the highway and didn’t drop speed below 70 until they’d safely crossed the state line.
Posted by Pat C.