him, at least not right then. I'd wait for him to be healthy so he'd have a sporting chance. Without any outlet for my anger and frustration the steam escape my ears and my shoulders slumped over. I held my shaking hands out in front of me. They looked normal, and I felt normal.
"You're joking, right? I'm not going to turn into a-well, a-"
"-a monster?" he finished for me. I nodded. "Even a human can be a monster. It's just a matter of what you do with yourself that makes you what you are, not some fangs and claws."
I shut my eyes and shook my head. "But I don't want this. I just want everything to be normal just like it was before that night in the laundry."
"We don't have a time machine," he gently teased.
I grabbed hold of his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "But you didn't need to do it! I didn't have to be a werewolf! There has to be a cure, so just put everything back the way it was! Put ME back the way I was!"
Greg softly set his hands atop mine and answered my stare with his own steady gaze. "I'm sorry for what I've done, but there is no cure. You can only hold off the change for a few weeks, but it will come and you'll have to accept that. To do otherwise is to risk madness, and if that happens you'll hurt more than just yourself."
My whole body quivered. "More than just myself?"
He gave my hands a squeeze. "If you can't control yourself than you'll hurt other people."
"L-like kill them?" I asked him. He gravely nodded his head. My hands slipped off him and I clutched my head in one hand. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" A sniffle escaped me. "I don't want to be a wolf-thing."
Greg smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "It's not so bad," he tried to console me.
I whipped my head up and glared at him. "Not so bad? Not so BAD?" I exclaimed. "You think every girl grows up dreaming about becoming a werewolf?" He opened his mouth and I slapped my hand over it. "No, we don't. We dream of nice, silky legs and hair that's in all the right places, not hair in ALL the places."
"Hm hun hnted hn hnhn hn," he mumbled through my hand.
I pulled my hand away and raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"I said I just wanted to protect you," he repeated.
I frowned. "Protect me how? By the looks of you I'd say the fur part isn't indestructible."
Greg chuckled. "It's not the fur that's the benefit, though I must admit it's kept me warm a lot of cold nights."
"Then what?" I flatly asked him.
"Well, there's this." He pointed at his chest where lay the holes from the bullets. As I watched, the wounds slowly closed themselves. They didn't even leave a scratch. My mouth dropped open and I pressed my hand against his chest where the wounds had disappeared. He giggled and pushed my hand away. "I'm sort of ticklish," he admitted.
I rolled my eyes. "What kind of a werewolf are you to be ticklish and working as an apartment manager in a crummy neighborhood?"
"The one that's content with a simple life," he replied.
"There's not some werewolf empire you can rule over, or some campers you could stalk in the woods?" I wondered.
He shook his head. "Not so much as a plot of land to conquer or a small wood to haunt."
"So how did you end up in the middle of this filthy city and happen to turn me into one of you?" I asked him.
Greg put on a dreamy look and sighed. "It's a long story starting from when I was a pup."
"Were you really a pup?"
"No, but just roll with me. Right here in the hay, if you want."
"I'd rather not take a roll with you here or anywhere else. I'm supposed to be cursing your existence for cursing mine, remember?"
"You sure? It's actually pretty fun."
"I'm cold, but not that cold."
Greg glanced over me and frowned. "You should be cold. You're sitting there in those filthy clothes." He nodded at the box. "I've got several sets of clothes. Pull out a pair for both of us and we can get dressed."
"All right, but don't expect this type of royal treatment from me all the time," I replied as I pulled out
"You're joking, right? I'm not going to turn into a-well, a-"
"-a monster?" he finished for me. I nodded. "Even a human can be a monster. It's just a matter of what you do with yourself that makes you what you are, not some fangs and claws."
I shut my eyes and shook my head. "But I don't want this. I just want everything to be normal just like it was before that night in the laundry."
"We don't have a time machine," he gently teased.
I grabbed hold of his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "But you didn't need to do it! I didn't have to be a werewolf! There has to be a cure, so just put everything back the way it was! Put ME back the way I was!"
Greg softly set his hands atop mine and answered my stare with his own steady gaze. "I'm sorry for what I've done, but there is no cure. You can only hold off the change for a few weeks, but it will come and you'll have to accept that. To do otherwise is to risk madness, and if that happens you'll hurt more than just yourself."
My whole body quivered. "More than just myself?"
He gave my hands a squeeze. "If you can't control yourself than you'll hurt other people."
"L-like kill them?" I asked him. He gravely nodded his head. My hands slipped off him and I clutched my head in one hand. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" A sniffle escaped me. "I don't want to be a wolf-thing."
Greg smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "It's not so bad," he tried to console me.
I whipped my head up and glared at him. "Not so bad? Not so BAD?" I exclaimed. "You think every girl grows up dreaming about becoming a werewolf?" He opened his mouth and I slapped my hand over it. "No, we don't. We dream of nice, silky legs and hair that's in all the right places, not hair in ALL the places."
"Hm hun hnted hn hnhn hn," he mumbled through my hand.
I pulled my hand away and raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"I said I just wanted to protect you," he repeated.
I frowned. "Protect me how? By the looks of you I'd say the fur part isn't indestructible."
Greg chuckled. "It's not the fur that's the benefit, though I must admit it's kept me warm a lot of cold nights."
"Then what?" I flatly asked him.
"Well, there's this." He pointed at his chest where lay the holes from the bullets. As I watched, the wounds slowly closed themselves. They didn't even leave a scratch. My mouth dropped open and I pressed my hand against his chest where the wounds had disappeared. He giggled and pushed my hand away. "I'm sort of ticklish," he admitted.
I rolled my eyes. "What kind of a werewolf are you to be ticklish and working as an apartment manager in a crummy neighborhood?"
"The one that's content with a simple life," he replied.
"There's not some werewolf empire you can rule over, or some campers you could stalk in the woods?" I wondered.
He shook his head. "Not so much as a plot of land to conquer or a small wood to haunt."
"So how did you end up in the middle of this filthy city and happen to turn me into one of you?" I asked him.
Greg put on a dreamy look and sighed. "It's a long story starting from when I was a pup."
"Were you really a pup?"
"No, but just roll with me. Right here in the hay, if you want."
"I'd rather not take a roll with you here or anywhere else. I'm supposed to be cursing your existence for cursing mine, remember?"
"You sure? It's actually pretty fun."
"I'm cold, but not that cold."
Greg glanced over me and frowned. "You should be cold. You're sitting there in those filthy clothes." He nodded at the box. "I've got several sets of clothes. Pull out a pair for both of us and we can get dressed."
"All right, but don't expect this type of royal treatment from me all the time," I replied as I pulled out
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