Phrases marked with (t) will have a translation at the end of that section.

History

Baron von Glower's POV

I believe he is here. Yes, I believe that Gabriel has come to Cascade. The sense of connection has grown so much stronger in the past few hours; it can only be from his nearness.

So, you slipped your little Oriental watchdog, did you, my angel? You must have. I can't imagine you bringing her along, though she might very well follow. She is a marvelous one for seeking you out, Gabriel. She would have made an excellent Schattenjaeger herself.

Poor Grace. She's a bit obsessed with you, I believe. Well, who am I to talk, eh? She sees you slipping away from her influence, and it's making her desperate, I think. She doesn't understand that you belong to me in a way you could never belong to her. It's on so many levels, Gabriel, not just physical.

Though there is that. Oh, yes, there is that.

Our time together has been so brief. Only that one night, really. And I didn't have you fully, then. Like I told you the night that Grace so rudely interrupted us, I want you awake, and aware. Gabriel, I want you to know, beyond doubt, that it is I who gives you pleasure.

I've had my little wolf cub, and he was sweet, so very sweet. But I have craved you for so long, Gabriel. I have been looking for you all down the long years of my life. Now that I have finally found you, it's so hard to wait.

You are my true soul mate, I feel it.

I never believed that of Von Zell. Oh, I loved him. I still grieve for him. But he did not touch me like you, Gabriel. He did not leave me feeling pierced by the touch of his eyes, scorched by the touch of his hand...

I grow poetic in my old age, I'm afraid. That is what will happen when a grizzled old wolf loves a young one. It's as true for our kind as it is for the mortals.

Through all the companions and lovers I have sought through the centuries, Gabriel, there has only been one who even came close to you. Ludwig... my poor, mad Ludwig.

I wish you could have known him, Gabriel. He would have been as enchanted by you as I am, I believe. Granted, you are a bit earthier than what he generally sought, but your spirit, Gabriel, your fire...

He would have recognized your purity of essence, and treasured it. He wanted so much to attain the pure and noble in himself, he strove to rise about the material, carnal concerns of the world. And I...

Ah, I must admit it. I dragged him down. I regret that, Gabriel, you have no idea how much. But I truly didn't see any other way at the time. You must understand how things were then.

I had been living in exile in South America. I was born in Bavaria; I spent my formative years there. It was home, and it was denied to me. All because of my father's weakness. Yes, he was wicked, but... Pah, I have never believed in that biblical tendency to visit the sins of the fathers upon the children. I was no part of his deeds, but I suffered for them. I suffer still.

I did not suffer in a material manner, you understand. No, my mother had admirers, supporters who helped us. We lived well enough. I was educated, exposed to the finer things in life. Perhaps if life had been simpler, I would not have conceived the desire to return to my native land, and reclaim what was mine by birthright.

No, I'm fooling myself. It would have been the same, lavish lifestyle or abject poverty. It was my destiny to return to Bavaria. I've learned over the years that it just doesn't pay to fight some things.

There was one good thing about living in the more primitive area. My change...

When I reached adolescence, and the moon exerted its sway over me, I had wilderness nearby to roam. I could take myself deep into the forests, away from men, and just be. There was always prey. Myriads of small animals fell to my jaws, their hot blood and flesh feeding the beast. I did not kill men. Not then. I did not need to.

Poor mother. She didn't know what to think. She believed me to be running wild, and so I was, but not as she thought. She imagined me drinking, carousing, and whoring. No. Oh, I sewed my share of wild oats. After all, I was young, and privileged.

Odd how much man can mimic the wolf when he is in his more bestial state. I ran with a sort of pack: other young bloods, like myself, protected by their families. Petty things, really. Breaking windows, loosing horses, harassing the tavern wenches. But there's always a chance with these groups that things will go too far. I was already pulling away from them when it happened.

They knew my routine. They called me 'The Monk', for what they saw as my monthly 'retreat'. And they were determined to break me of the habit. I was with them one night. The next night, the moon would be full. I still could not control my change. It would come, and I must be deep in the forest when it did. I was going to leave early the next morning, to give myself sufficient travel time.

Dear lord, I should have known. They kept pressing drink on me, more, stronger. I should have stopped, but I had one of the foolish notions of the young: I believed my capacity was greater than it was. At their urging, I drank myself senseless.

When I awakened, the sun was high, past the noon mark, and I was locked in a room at the inn. Oh, how I raged, and cursed, and pounded at the door. And how they laughed, my companions. My friends. They promised to let me out that night. I told them they must either let me out now, or leave me there till the sun had risen again. But they didn't listen. Oh, God, they never listen.

The sun sank; the moon rose... and the change came--as it must, as I knew it would. I felt the familiar itching tingle as the fur sprouted. There was the agony as bone and sinew and muscles stretched, shrank, twisted, realigned. There is always pain in the change, no matter how often it happens, but I can bear it more easily now. It was sheer, hellish agony then.

I screamed. I screamed like a damned soul, which, I suppose, is what I really am. Then I howled.

And they opened the door. The fools. The fools. I would have probably made my way out in any case. The inn was not well built, the door was not sturdy. But it might have held. At least long enough for them to realize their mistake, and flee. But they released their own destruction.

I don't really remember what happened. Now I retain some of myself when I go to my wolf form. Then, I was wholly the beast. All I know is that I woke up the next morning, deep in the forest. My belly was full, and I was covered with gore, caked with it. Bits of flesh were under my fingernails, and there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't sticky with congealing blood.

I became ill, spewing the foul contents of my stomach onto the mossy ground. I turned away from the steaming mess, but not before I recognized a man's finger among the gobbets of flesh. My belly was empty, but still I tried to sick up what was not there any more. My body and mind was trying to rid itself of the realization of that first gruesome meal, but it would never be wiped away. And later... later it was not quite so repugnant.

I washed myself as best I could in a forest stream, and hid in small cave I found for the rest of the day. That night I ran free in the safe vastness of the forest. I learned later that it was a good thing that I had hidden, then gone deep. When the slaughter was discovered at the inn, the townspeople organized a hunt. It was my good fortune that there actually were wolves nearby. They killed several of them, and satisfied themselves that the killers had been dispatched.

When the fullness of the moon had passed, I slunk home. I was afraid, thinking that they would be watching for me, ready to kill me for my murderous rampage. But I had to go back, if for nothing else than to steal clothes and money so I could flee.

But when my mother came upon me as I crept down the back hallway, she fell upon me with shrieks and tears of relief. They had thought me dead, killed in the massacre. I had not been suspected at all.

Three of my companions had died in the upstairs hallway, just outside the room that had confined me. The innkeeper had died in the front room. The serving wench had fled, screaming. A dozen witnesses had seen the great black wolf pursue her, run her down, and tear out her throat. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that it had been a bizarre attack by a forest wolf. It was believed that I had been wounded, and wandered away in the confusion to die in the forest.

A fourth companion, Erich, had survived, gravely wounded. He was not in his right mind, I was informed. He babbled. I went to see him. He had been a handsome man. A hideous gash ran from his hair to his mouth, the right eye slashed and ruined. The wound itself, though only a couple of days old, was healing, sealing. But it was grievous. If he had survived, I believe he would have still been badly scarred. And he would still have lost the eye. Our powers of healing are great, but they do not include regeneration.

But he didn't survive. He might have, I think. When I visited him, he was quiet, but there was a spark of understanding in his one good eye. When the doctor left us alone, I spoke to him. I tried to explain. I apologized, told him of my grief at what had happened. And I explained what would happen to him. I promised him that I would be there for him, to help him through. That he didn't have to go through it alone.

He said nothing, turning away his face. I left, hoping that he would come to accept it before the next full moon brought his first change. That night, while his keepers slept, he managed to get out of bed. He found the draft that the doctor had been doling out to him for pain, and drained the entire bottle. When morning came, they found him dead, already cold. But they said that the unmarred portion of his face wore an expression of deepest peace.

I hated him for leaving me.

But this sad incident was what first kindled the idea that I could make companions for myself. I knew that my bite could pass on the curse; I'd seen partial proof. But Erich had been unprepared for the attack. It had been too much of a trauma for him to survive. I could understand that. What I would need to do, I decided, was to choose my companions more carefully. And I'd have to ensure that the passing of the taint was done in a manner that did not shock the system too badly.

I knew that I did not have enough control of myself to do that at that point in time. So, I spent years mastering myself.

Through the good graces of Mother's patrons, I made my way in the world. When she died, I had my own circle of friends, and admirers. But I wasn't content to live off the good graces of others. There was an estate in Bavaria that was rightfully mine, and I was determined to have it. So, I went back to Europe.

Ludwig was king then. Ludwig, the builder of faerie castles. Poor Ludwig. He was born too late. He should have been a knight at Arthur's roundtable, seeking holy relics and defending pure maidens. He really wasn't suited for rule in a political world.

There were factions that wanted him off the throne. Factions that would eventually lead to involvement in the Great War, but that was much later, and not my concern. What was my concern was that these factions saw in me a possible solution to their problem.

It isn't all that easy to depose a monarch, especially one who is loved by the people, and Ludwig was very popular, even though he expended fortunes on his building. The only way, outside of a blatant military coupe, is to have the monarch declared insane. My friends, do you know how difficult that is? Royalty can get away with behavior that would have you or I locked in an asylum. They can do the most outlandish things, and only be labeled 'eccentric'.

It was hoped that I could influence Ludwig to see things in a more sensible light. And, if not, the tension and guilt from 'whatever relationship you have' (as they so delicately put it) would be enough to unbalance his already fragile mental state. In return, I was offered the title, and the return of all my ancestral holdings.

I didn't wish Ludwig harm, you must believe that. Yes, he was an assignment, but I was taken with him from the very start. We had so much in common: a love of the finer, nobler things, a sense of our nation's history, and a love of our beautiful country.

I caught his eye at a performance of an opera by Wagner. He did not know how carefully I had been placed in his way. As they had assumed, he soon sent for me, and we began a friendship. It soon blossomed into something more.

But there were those who were not so ignorant of my nature, who suspected my motives. They tried to poison him against me. I didn't want to do it, but I was forced to take him against his will. If only I'd had more time, I think I could have persuaded him to join me willingly. Perhaps not.

After the wounding, he isolated himself in one of his castles. His behavior became more erratic. He wouldn't see me. I wanted so much to soothe him, to explain the changes he was going through. I was determined to be with him during his first change, to help him through.

But it never happened. The forces I spoke of moved. He was declared insane, and removed from his sanctum. They were taking him to a more secure location, when he escaped, killing one of his doctors. Killing himself.

And again, I was abandoned.

I didn't give up. I had my estates, my wealth, and my position. I sought other companions. One by one, they sickened with the madness, and I had to find means to ease them from this life. Each time, I died a little.

But now I have you, Gabriel. You and Blair. It will work this time, I swear it. I won't lose either of you. And no one will stand in my way. Not Grace, nor Ellison. The one can be disposed of, the other, possibly turned. I hope so. But in any case...

You're mine, Gabriel. You're mine.

In Transit

Grace's POV

During my lay over in New York, I spend some change in the airport lounge pay telephone in an attempt to reach Jim Ellison in Cascade. First I try information, but they don't have a listing for a Jim or James Ellison. There is one for a Blair Sandburg, but that turns out to be a woman. I wonder if the guy used to get teased about his name? They must have an unlisted number. Not too unusual for police detectives.

So next I try the Cascade PD. I manage to get them, but I'm informed that neither of the men are in. They ask if I'd like to leave a message, but what the hell could I tell them? So I just leave the number for the pay phone, sit, and hope no one comes along and tries to use the phone while I'm waiting.

After a couple of hours, the waitress (who's bringing me my fifth cup of coffee) asks, "Miss, are you doing anything besides waiting for a plane and ruining your kidneys?"

"I'm waiting for a plane. This is a lounge. I'm lounging." That's right, the bitch is back. I can't help it. I'm stressed.

She isn't offended. I suppose she has to deal with a lot of snappish travelers. "I was just wondering if maybe you were waiting for a call on that phone. I saw you use it earlier, and you've been watching it pretty close. You get all tense when someone acts like they're going to use it."

"As a matter of fact, I am expecting a call."

"Oh, I was afraid of that."

Those words are never a prelude to any sort of good news. "Why?"

"Well, you see, that phone can't receive. It can only make outgoing calls."

"What's that supposed to mean? What good is it, then?"

"Well, you see, it's sort of a security measure. Airport security thought that it was being used a lot by drug dealers to set things up and make contact, so they had it fixed so that you can only call out."

Well, isn't that just dandy. Ellison could have been trying to reach me for the last half hour, and just gotten a busy signal. Now he's probably thinking it was a crank call, and my credibility will be lowered before I even meet him. "They ought to have a sign posted."

"We did. But the drug dealers got pissed and pulled it down."

Crap. Nothing to do now but sit and wait. And brood. I'm getting good at brooding. I really have to decide what I'm going to do when I reach Cascade. I can't just blunder in and hope for the best.

And I can't just kill von Glower. They stay in, or return to, human form when they die. I could easily explain killing a wolf (even if I couldn't explain what one was doing running around an urban American area. But then, I don't have to explain that), but explaining why I murdered a German aristocrat could prove to be a little more difficult. I might get off with an insanity defense if I told them the real reason. But institutions are so dull.

More and more I'm convinced that I'm going to need Ellison, and not just for information on von Glower and Gabriel's whereabouts. I'm not a hunter, any more than Gabriel is. And I don't have the Schattenjaeger lineage to give me even the edge that he has. Despite what the Indiana Jones movies would have you believe, scholars are very seldom suited for vigorous adventures.

I think my greatest persuasive tool is going to be Blair Sandburg. He must be going through the same things now that Gabriel is: mood swings, restlessness, aggression, insomnia. If I can convince Ellison of the source of these changes, I believe he'll throw in with me.

The thing is...

I'm not entirely sure that getting rid of von Glower will be the perfect solution.

It will save Blair and Gabriel spiritually, there's no doubt of that. The taint will be removed. And, if they do not weaken and turn willingly to the darkness again, they'll be all right. But there's no telling how this experience has weakened them. There's no telling whether or not the personality changes will remain, or they'll go back to the way they were before this whole mess started. Frankly, I'm scared. Because I'm not sure it's possible.

Even if they can return to something approaching their old personalities, they're going to be carrying a lot of spiritual and emotional baggage with them. Hell, they're going to have a trunk full.

Not just for what they've done, though that will be bad enough. Gabriel is going to torture himself over that incident in his bedroom. Sandburg has probably had something similar. And beyond those incidents...

I can't pretend to know their minds. But there must be dark thoughts, scary feelings, and bloody impulses. They're going to have to live with the fact that they are capable of these. Most men don't like to acknowledge the animal side of their nature. It's buried more deeply in some, but it's always there. And having to face it can be devastating.

I'm feeling a little of that right now, looking at my own desire to kill Freidrich von Glower. It's a side of myself I wasn't aware of. And I wish I wasn't aware of it now.

Damn. I wish now I'd never taken that job in Gabe's store. It seemed so quiet, and safe, and... blah. Well, admit it, Grace. Not entirely safe. You knew that when you met Gabriel. We're not talking supernatural, zombies and vampires and werewolves--my sort of dangerous. We're talking emotionally dangerous. We're talking 'have your heart ripped out in a metaphorical rather than physical sense' dangerous. And I thought I could deal with it. *snort* Okay, another fault to add to my list. Apparently I suffer from self-delusional vanity, too.

All right, I knew it would never be hearts and flowers with Gabriel. I honestly didn't think he was capable of it. Despite what we'd like to believe, I think there are certain people who are just congenitally incapable of monogamy, or even long term commitment. I was sure Gabriel was one of those. But now...now it looks as if it might be possible with von Glower. An eternity of racing through the night at your lover's side. How the hell much more romantic can you get? And it hurts that I wasn't the one who could inspire this in Gabriel.

Okay, I'll be politically incorrect. It really hurts that the one who could do it is a man. That should make me feel better. After all, how could I be expected to compete with him? We aren't even on the same playing field. Talk about being out of your league. It's like trying to stop a touch down when your opponent is going for a slam-dunk.

Oh, Jesus, Gabriel's influenced me more than I thought. Now I'm using sports metaphors.

They're calling my flight. Finally. I go get in the line to board, waiting my turn through the security metal scanner. This time I know enough to remove the talisman before I step through, and I pass without incident.

The guard who was holding it for me admires it. "That is absolutely gorgeous. So unique. Where did you get it?"

"Germany."

"I'd like to have one of the stewardesses that make that flight find one for me. It would be perfect for my fiancé. Where can I get one?"

"I'm afraid you couldn't. It's one of a kind."

"A designer original, huh? Well, isn't that always the case? I suppose it's expensive, too."

"Friend, it's priceless." He's shaking his head sadly as I board. The stewardess gives me a smile that's more plastic than porcelain this time. As I set foot on the plane, somewhere up ahead, a baby starts crying. Ah, crap.

Establishing Places

Gabriel's POV

I tell Ellison a lot, but I don't tell him everything. I tell him that the Alpha wolf, the sire, cannot kill those of his own bloodline, and that eases his mind about Blair. A little. He knows for sure now that Friedrich will not kill him. But he also knows that Blair is in danger of losing much more than his physical life.

"So you think that, even if von Glower were to return to Germany and Blair stayed here, there would still be a connection?" Jim asks.

"I know it. He could reach me clear back in Rittersburg."

"And Blair would be drawn to him, no matter what his conscious mind wanted?"

"It would most likely kill him to resist. Ya gotta understand, Jim. It's a part of him now, like his blood and his bones. He can't separate it."

"Could von Glower release him?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. In any case, I doubt if he would. He sees Blair as belonging to him now. Me, too. And, in a way, we do. You never really get away from the one who made you, do you?" A pained look crosses his face. I think maybe Jim has 'issues' with his father.

"I want to talk to Blair, compare what's been happenin' to both of us. Together, we might just be strong enough to put up a fight." *Oh, I want to do more than talk to Blair, after I saw him in that dream. That's a hot little partner you got there, Jim. An' I got the feelin' that Friedrich won't be too interested in lettin' me top, so he might be my only chance. He looks like a tough little cookie, but I think I got the physical advantage.*

"Yeah, all right. And... I found this on the floor this morning." He hands me a small, crumpled piece of paper. It's a sheet torn from a pocket notebook. I see Frederick's name, a phone number... and a hotel address. My lips want to shape themselves into a triumphant grin, but I manage to control it. The beast must not show his teeth just yet.

"Hold off going there," Jim requests. "I want to go with you and confront this bastard."

*You know, Jim, that might be interestin'. I'd kinda like to see how Frederick would react to you now that you know what he is. I expect he'd either fuck you, or kill you. Maybe both.* "I want to go talk to Blair first. I'll go to your apartment, and we can both meet you at von Glower's hotel later. See what he makes of all three of us together." *Or more precisely, what we three together will make of you. You're impressive, my friend, but I don't think even you could stand up against an alpha and two betas.*

So I leave him, and go to his apartment. I stand outside the door, and lean against it for a moment. Blair... He's in there. I can smell him. It's a mixture of his own scent, the beast, and von Glower, our sire. I don't see how Ellison could have missed it. He must be purposefully ignoring it, in denial.

I don't knock at the door. I scratch. I wait. In a moment, I hear the pad of bare feet approaching. He's just on the other side of the door. I hear sniffing, and know that he's scenting me. There is a low, soft snarl that raises the hair on the back of my neck.

We're both betas to Frederick's alpha, but there is ranking among beta's, too. There's going to be a contest between us to see who's top beta. It's natural, and inevitable. I'm ready for it.

I'm looking forward to it.

Aftermath

Blair's POV

Jim's upset by what happened. I can understand that. He isn't used to being the one who is taken, and controlled. I may not be able to do it again, now that he knows what I'm capable of, but oh man, I enjoyed it.

And I kinda dislike myself for that. This isn't LIKE me. He was making noises this morning about medical tests and psychiatric examinations, and I blew him off, but maybe I should...

The sound of a quiet scratching at the front door drives these thoughts from my mind. I cock my head, listening to it. It isn't a common, human sound. It's more like a dog, trying to catch your attention. I go to the door cautiously, and sample the scent that drifts from the other side.

There's something familiar about this smell. It isn't entirely human, it's mingled with the beast. And there is an undertone that speaks to me of Frederick somehow. I suddenly realize that this must be one of my bloodline, another child of the baron. That could only mean one person.

Gabriel.

Frederick is going to be very pleased. If I can bring Gabriel to him, he will be pleased with ME as well. Oh, I'd like that. But we have business first, Gabriel Knight and I.

Certain things have to be established. I remember what he looks like. He was worn and hurting in the lodge, but I've seen him since then, in the dream. He's an impressive man. I doubt I can really overcome him, but I have to try. I have to fight him, and make an effort before I roll over and offer myself in submission. It's just the way it is. And I might win. I find myself giving a feral smile. Stranger things have happened. I know that from personal experience.

The snarl rumbles up from my throat before I'm aware of it, and the only thing that bothers me about it is that now he is forewarned...

OVERVIEW

Gabriel hears the lock click open on the door, and he trembles with anticipation. The door opens, and Blair Sandburg is standing there. His hair is falling half across his face, and he stares at Gabriel through the silky curtain.

Neither man says a word, but communication passes between them. Blair backs up, and Gabriel comes into the apartment, and kicks the door shut behind him. What is going to happen between them is private. The outside world is not welcome.

Gabriel takes off his jacket, dropping it heedlessly to the floor. To anyone who knows him, this would be a sign that something was very wrong here.

The two men begin, very slowly, to circle each other. They are intent, studying and assessing, looking for strengths and, more importantly, weaknesses. Neither sees many of the latter. Gabriel thinks that perhaps his superior bulk and reach will give him the advantage, but Blair isn't going to be a push over. Not by a long shot.

Then Blair stands still, head lowered, eyes on the ground. Gabriel is startled. This is a classic posture of submission. Can it be that he's giving in so easily? It happens, when a weaker beast meets one who is obviously superior. But Gabriel had thought they were too evenly matched for an easy victory.

He reaches toward Blair cautiously, willing to accept his surrender graciously. He doesn't realize he's been suckered till the younger man has his arm, has turned, and is flipping him over his hip.

Gabriel hits the floor, but bounds up before Blair can fall on him. He hits the Guide low, in a charging tackle that carries both of them heavily into the wall, shaking picture frames.

Sandburg brings his knee up. Gabriel is low enough that his groin is protected, but the knee connects jarringly with his shoulder. At the same moment, Sandburg grabs a double handful of Gabe's hair and jerks down, trying to get him in position to catch him under the chin with the next knee lift.

Gabriel loses a few strands of hair, but he manages to get his shoulder under Blair's hips and lift him so that he tumbles over him, landing on his back with a tremendous thump that knocks most of the breath out of him. Gabriel turns to jump on him, but he is already rolling away, scrambling to his feet.

By unspoken agreement, there are no blows thrown. This is more of a wrestling match. Men use fists. Beasts do not.

Again they circled each other. Gabriel was impressed. Though he was small, Blair Sandburg was a worthy opponent, fast and cunning. There was a chance that he could wear Gabriel down eventually, worrying him till he made a mistake. Gabe couldn't allow that.

With a growl, Gabriel charged. Blair feinted to one side, then dodged back, but Gabriel had anticipated the move. He flung himself on the small man, bearing him down to the floor. He made sure to dig an elbow deep into Sandburg's midriff, knocking the breath out of him.

While Blair heaved for air, Gabriel wrapped his long legs around the other man's legs, trapping them, and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the floor beside his head. Blair snarled again, bucking against him furiously, trying to pull his hands free to claw. But Gabriel used his superior weight to press him down, half crushing him. Gradually the struggles grew weaker, as Blair wore himself out.

Finally he was still, except for an all over quiver, and harsh panting. He glared up at his conqueror. Gabriel said the first word that had been spoken since the door had opened. "Give."

Blair bared his teeth, then sullenly turned his head to the side, arching his neck and presenting his throat in a gesture of submission. Gabriel made a soft, approving growl, and bent down, settling his teeth on the smooth skin. He bit down slowly, feeling the pulse pounding through the soft, vulnerable flesh. He bit till there would be a bruise, and a semi-circular row of ruddy teeth imprints, letting Blair feel his power. The young man shuddered more strongly, and made a placating whine.

Gabriel released his grip, licking the bruise gently, and reached down to unfasten Blair's pants, then his own. The ritual of domination had to be completed. Blair understood, and wiggled out of his pants, then lifted his legs onto Gabriel's shoulders without prompting.

Gabriel spread the taut ass cheeks, finding the little puckered opening at the center, and mounted him dry. Again Blair whined, this time with pain, but he pushed back onto Gabriel's invading cock, and his own dick was hard. Gabriel fucked him roughly, jerking his hips almost savagely. This wasn't love making. A point was being made, positions in the pack established. Gentleness could come later.

The room was filled with the gasp and slap of rough sex. Gabriel pumped so hard that he pushed Blair along the rug, and the Guide clutched at his shoulders frantically. As he neared climax, Gabriel took hold of Blair's cock and masturbated him, his touch far from gentle, but stimulating, nonetheless. Blair came first, jetting hot semen across his own belly. Gabriel followed him quickly, emptying himself deep into the narrow, clenching channel of the smaller man's body.

The Schattenjaeger collapsed on top of Blair, letting the younger man's legs slip down and stretch out, pulling his cock free. For a long moment they lay there, panting. Blair began to lick and nibble at Gabriel's throat and face, and Gabriel allowed it. Now and then his own tongue darted out to tangle briefly with the Guide's.

After awhile he rolled off Blair. Still without speaking they went into the bathroom. Blair cleaned first Gabriel, then himself. Finally he said, "Frederick is waiting for you."

"I know. I came as fast as I could."

"Gabriel?" Blair's voice was low, and he didn't meet the other man's eyes. "We're sick. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, little buddy--I know that, an' I don't know what we can do about it."

Knight saw a tear slip down Blair's face, then another. "I hurt my Sentinel." He put his hands over his face. "I hurt my Jim, and then I acted like it was nothing. But he still doesn't hate me. He loves me."

Gabriel thought about Grace, and felt a twinge. "I talked to him. I could see that."

"I... I don't know if I can stay with him, when I'm like this. I'm so afraid. And I think it's going to get worse, very soon. It's... it's almost the full moon. Tomorrow..."

*Jesus, God. Is it that soon? Yes, I can feel it. What happened here wouldn't have happened a day or two ago. I would have been able to control it. The fever's runnin' too high right now. It's going to be dangerous to go see von Glower, but what choice do I have? I've either got to break free of this, or get his help when... when it finally happens. Cause I just might go crazy if there isn't someone with me who understands.*

Gabriel touched Blair gently, wiping away the tears. "We need to go, babe."

Blair nodded, and went to get a fresh pair of pants.

Grace and Jim

When she arrived at the Cascade airport, Grace did not bother to look for a hotel room. Instead, she got a taxi cab and headed directly for the Cascade Police Department.

It was late afternoon when she arrived and made her way up to Major Crimes, hoping against hope that either Sandburg or Ellison would be there. There were two men in the office when she arrived: an almost ridiculously good looking one who's desk nameplate identified him as 'Rafe', and a handsome black man, who was in the process of putting on a coat.

She looked between them. "I'm looking for either Detective Jim Ellison, or Detective Blair Sandburg."

They exchanged glances. "This certainly is Jim's week for getting visitors at the office," remarked the dark haired man mildly. "I'm Simon Banks, his captain."

Grace was immediately alert, but hardly interested in who or what the other man might be. "Yes? If you don't mind my asking, who else has been here?"

"Um, well," said Rafe, "there was a very tall fellow a day or two ago. Had some sort of an accent. They went to lunch together, as I recall. Then just this afternoon he went out for coffee with another guy. That one had an accent, too. Souther drawl."

*Von Glower. Gabriel. Good God, if they haven't met up already, they're close.* "Is Detective Ellison in?"

Banks frowned. "Well, he was. Might as well not have been, for all the good he's been lately. Distracted as hell."

*Oh, you have no idea.* "And now?" She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice.

Rafe and Simon exchanged looks again. Rafe said, "I think he went to transfer a prisoner to the county lock up. He may be coming back before he goes home, but I can't be sure. Do you want to leave a message?"

"No. I want to talk to him. It's very important. Can I have his address?"

She saw the denial in their eyes even before they both started shaking their heads. Well, it had been worth a try. "Then I'd like to wait, if I may."

Grace could see the indecision on Banks' face. "Look, if I don't wait here, I wait outside, on the street. I have got to talk to him."

Simon studied her. He said slowly, "Is what you have to say to Jim going to help him, or hurt him?"

She was as honest with him as she dared to be. "Probably some of both. Hopefully it will mostly help."

"Rafe, were you planning on staying much longer?"

"A little while. I want to catch up on some paperwork." He smiled at Grace. "The eternal monster." He wondered why she winced, and made a mental note to brush up on his small talk.

Banks said, "You can stay till Rafe leaves. If Ellison isn't back by then, you'll have to check back by tomorrow."

She wanted to tell him that tomorrow might be too late... But too late for what" Even she wasn't sure. She only knew that delay could only hinder, not help the situation.

The captain made his farewells, and Grace took off her trench coat, hanging it on a coatrack. Rafe pretended to be scanning his paper work, but his eyes were drawn to the petite oriental woman. She was a real beauty. Her appearance was so exotic that it was a little disorienting to hear such a thoroughly American voice and attitude.

He wouldn't ask, since it wasn't any of his business, but Rafe was eaten up with curiosity. What sort of business could such an unusual woman have with Ellison? Sandburg, he could understand. Sandburg had always struck Rafe as a bit exotic himself, but Jim was about at white bread middle American as it was possible to get.

Rafe cleared his throat, and those sharp, almond shaped eyes turned to him. He pointed. "There's coffee left, if you can stomach it." He smiled. "Though Public Relations may chew me out of letting a defenseless member of the public get hold of station brew."

That got a smile. Just the ghost of one, and he had the feeling that she wasn't so much being friendly as being amused. He must be pretty obvious.

"Thanks. I'm used to that chicory blend in Louisiana that you can use to strip paint. I should be able to handle it."

It occurred to Grace that she might be able to pump some information out of this man before Ellison arrived. He certainly seemed susceptible. She had often frowned on women who used 'feminine wiles' to get what they wanted out of men, but she found that lately her standards for what she would and would not do to resolve this problem had changed.

Ignoring the several straight backed chairs in the room, she went to the detective's desk, and leaned a hip against it, sipping. *God, he wasn't kidding. This stuff is foul.*

"Well?"

"Not so bad." *Surely I won't be sent to Hell for that little lie.* "So, Ellison has been troubled lately?"

He frowned. Grace shifted, letting her skirt ride up an inch. "Um, yes. He just hasn't been himself lately. He's pretty attached to his partner. Well, you get like that, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." *Brother, do I know.*

"Anyway, with what Blair is going through lately, I guess it's no surprise that it's affecting Jim, too. He hasn't been able to persuade Sandburg to see a therapist yet. From what I've heard, he's getting worse. Mood swings, insomnia, aggression, eating problems..."

*Deja vu all over again. Yeah, Sandburg's definitely going through what Gabe is. Ellison should be ready to grab at any assistance he can get by now. He was already suspicious of von Glower back in Germany. It shouldn't be too hard to convince him that he has to be eliminated, for Blair's and Gabriel's sake.* "How did he react to the other's who've been in to see him?"

"Surprised mostly for the German guy. Well, you don't really expect someone you met in another country to just show up more or less on your doorstep, do you? He didn't seem really agitated by him till he came back from lunch, though. And the second guy...Well, it was kind of the opposite. He was really stirred up when he came in, but when he came back from taking him to the diner, he seemed... I don't know. Not peaceful, that's for sure. But a little less frantic. Like he still had a bad situation on his hands, but someone had showed him something that might help."

*What did you tell him, Gabriel? I'm betting you didn't tell him about that incident in your cell. I bet you didn't tell him that you weren't really sure whether you came to Cascade to kill your maker, or to join with your mate.*

Grace had all she needed from Rafe, but she stayed perched against the desk for a few minutes longer. He was a good looking man, and he wasn't quite drooling, so he had a little class. She might even have been interested, before this whole mess got started. Maybe when it was over. Because she had a feeling that she might as well never hope for anything in the romance department from Gabriel now. She'd be lucky to keep his friendship. Especially with what she might do to von Glower.

There wasn't ann mistaking the man who walked through the door. Even if he'd been in a crowd, Grace would have known him instantly. Besides just the physical aspects, he still had much of the same stress and anguish he'd exhibited in the hospital in Germany. God, had the poor man been living with this all this time?

"Detective Ellison?"

He seemed startled, and Grace had a feeling that Jim Ellison didn't startle easily. "Miss Nakimura?"

"Grace."

"From Germany. You're friend..."

"We need to talk about him. Where is he?"

"Probably with Blair. I sent him to the apartment this afternoon. Maybe he can help..."

"Mr. Ellison, Gabriel can't help himself, much less anyone else. What did he tell you?"

"He thought that maybe together he and Blair could figure out how..." He looked at Rafe.

Rafe got up and put on his coat. "I was just leaving, Jim." He nodded at Grace. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Nakimura. I wish it was under more peaceful circumstances. Maybe some other time..." He shrugged.

"Maybe so." She gave him a small smile as he left.

When he was gone, Jim continued. "Maybe they could figure out how to lift the curse."

Grace frowned. "Figure out? Detective, Gabriel already knows a way to lift the curse."

Jim's expression darkened. "I knew he was hiding something. There was something off about him. He didn't...smell right. How can they remove the curse?"

"It's simple--Von Glower has to die."

Grace saw a brief spark of elation in the big policeman's eyes, and found herself thinking *Yes! He'll do it, I won't have to.* But then the flame was doused by cold cop instincts.

"That isn't an option. Not if he isn't attacking someone."

"And if he is?"

"I'd try to stop him. If I couldn't do it any other way, only then would I resort to lethal force."

"You may not have the luxury of much time to decide."

"I'm fast, Miss Nakimura. Very fast."

"So is von Glower. Did Gabriel tell you what he really is?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe him?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Then we really don't have much time, Detective. Because the first full moon since the attacks on Gabriel and Blair is tomorrow. And if they turn, and should taste human blood, then there's no going back. They're damned.