Duel Nature by John Conroe

that’s the best way. Your brother is a new werewolf and
tomorrow night he’ll change for the first….” I trailed off, feeling
my head cock to one side as I got a real good look at the werewolfy
one. He too was younger than I had first thought, maybe
mid-twenties. The tired, haggard look had made him appear much
older. My Sight showed me a were that was more than several months
old.
    “You’ve been through the Change before! More
than once?”
    He was still frozen, a panicky look on his
face, but he flinched at the word Change.
    His big brother’s meaty hand descended on the
back of my neck, gripping hard, or at least trying to. Chet tells
me that touching me is like touching rubber covered steel. The
cop’s face registered the odd feeling and the fact that none of his
considerable effort was moving me in any way. I turned, his hand
falling away ineffectually.
    “Stop that. Listen, you’re both about to
start a bunch of denials mixed with righteous outrage and then
you’ll swear at me and call me crazy. Let’s just skip that part and
get to the meat of the matter. This one-“ I pointed at the
werewolf, “ is going to sprout teeth, fur and claws tomorrow night.
There’s no Alpha here to guide him and control him, so history
tells us that he’ll go insane and kill as many people as he can
find. On the flip side, I would guess that this isn’t the first
change and he isn’t a gibbering idiot, so I’m really interested to
hear how this happened, why you’re not insane, and what’s the plan
for tomorrow night?”
    The sheriff’s deputy opted for trying to
punch me. I let him. His fist met my head ( I turned it so it
missed my face) and came out of the contact in much worse condition
than my head, which is pretty dense (just ask Lydia).
    The younger one moved at me with a speed much
faster than a normal human’s. I was impressed, not at his
quickness, but that he appeared rational. Brushing aside his hands,
I grabbed his throat and held him up off the floor against the wall
to my right.
    “Let me explain something. I specialize in
werewolves and other things that go bump in the night. But my
bumping is a whole lot harder than theirs. So, you can both settle
down and talk about this or I can just solve the whole problem
right now,” I said, giving the wolf a shake.
    Oddly, the werewolf stopped fighting first,
his older brother looking frantically at the cased shotguns on the
little table in the kitchen.
    “Deputy, if you start the whole gun thing
you’re really not gonna be happy with the outcome,” I warned
him.
    “Who are you?” was the whispered question
from the wolf. He had to whisper because my grip was closing off
some of his airway.
    “Oops, sorry about that,” I said, setting him
down and taking my hand away.
    “My name is Chris Gordon and I’ve been
involved in this kinda business for a while now – the whole
supernatural world of werewolves and vampires and stuff,” I
said.
    “Vampire?” was the younger one’s response.
The cop was shaking out his bruised hand.
    “Yeah, you’re not the only kind of monster
out there,” I said. “But tell me how you came to be in this
condition?”
    They exchanged glances, then looked back at
me. With a sigh the younger one spoke, holding out his hand. “I’m
Jake Anderson and this is my brother Steve.”
    I shook his hand, but Steve didn’t appear
ready for that level of civility.
    “Three months ago, I was out at a bar in our
hometown of Grayling. There was a bit of drama-“ Steve snorted at
that but Jake kept talking, “and I left the bar. I was too drunk to
drive and too angry to wait for a ride so I started walking.
Grayling isn’t very big and everyone knows me, so my chances of
catching a ride home would have been pretty good,” he said.
    “Would have?” I asked.
    His face became haunted as he remembered it
and Steve shuffled his feet unhappily at his brother’s
expression.
    “Yeah, would have, ‘cause I didn’t make it
that