Century Traveler

John took her chin firmly in his hand and put his forehead against hers. "Truth?" he growled.

She held very still and whispered, "Yes."

He pulled her under himself and took her lips in a deep kiss, and she clung to him. He found her entrance and began to slide himself slowly inside her. She gasped and whimpered joyfully. Her kiss became almost frantic as he reversed direction and slid outwards. When he started to push back in, she arched up to meet him, plunging him all the way to her depths. She sighed deeply and reached down to hold his ass as he began to pick up the pace. Her whimpers were becoming frantic, and she pulled his ass with every thrust until he was pounding into her like a hammer. Her tongue explored John's mouth until she suddenly threw her head back and wailed loudly. Her muscles locked up and twitched as she rode wave after wave of her orgasm. Her squeezing contractions were enough to push John over the edge as well.

Sasha moaned again as she felt his orgasm surge inside her.

They rode their crests down into a blissful state of satisfaction. John rolled them onto their sides but remained deep inside her. They rested in silence for a while.

"Thank you," she said in the comfortable silence.

John was taken by surprise. "You're... welcome?"

"Not for sex. You are stupid." Her familiar words were harsh, but he heard the affection in her tone this time. "For convincing wolf to accept me. I cannot say how much it means."

"A pack of one is no pack," John said.

He felt her tremble, intimately and all over. "I am pack!" she squealed with joy.

John grinned in the dark and felt his wolf huff with resignation in his mind. He sent it his heartfelt gratitude.

"I'm new to this too, so I listen carefully to everything my wolf tells me. We expect you to do the same. He doesn't suffer fools. Well, not for long," John cautioned.

He felt her nodding.

"We'd better get some rest." John rolled onto his back, slipping free from the warmth of Sasha's body. She immediately snuggled in under his arm and threw a leg over his. Sated, they both fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 16

The next morning John crawled from the tent and opened his bag of clothes. Dancing in the chilly air, he quickly pulled on the tights and wicking shirt. He immediately had a problem. They didn't fit. His legs strained against the stretchy leggings, and his shirt was so tight across his shoulders that he felt the seams pulling when he reached his arms forward. The worst news was that his shoes no longer fit. He'd gone up at least a full shoe size, probably two. He undid the laces as far as he could and jammed them on his feet before re-lacing them closed.

It wouldn't be comfortable, but he'd be protected on the run back, at least.

He reached into the tent and ran his thumb across Sasha's full lower lip. She smiled and opened her eyes. "Come on, sunshine, we have to get moving. My clothes no longer fit, so I'm freezing. We need to start running," he said.

She pulled herself out of the tent and stretched luxuriously, knowing full well the effect it had on him. Then she squealed at the cold and grabbed her clothing bag. She pulled on her running gear and helped him pack up their sleeping bag and tent. Once everything was secured in the backpack, they set off to make their way back to the trail and kept their pace up to stay warm. Once on the trail, they opened up their speed, only slowing when they got closer to Skykomish, where they might be spotted.

They reached the little restaurant thirty minutes before noon, and their ride hadn't arrived yet. They found a table by the window and relaxed while they drank their hot chocolate and munched on huge homemade muffins. John finally remembered to turn his phone back on. Once it got a fix on a carrier, it chirped to indicate he had voicemail. He flipped his phone to speaker and set it on the table top.

The first message played.

Detective Molina's gruff voice came through slightly distorted as he was evidently talking on his cell outside in traffic.

"Mr. Doe, this is Detective Molina of the Portland Police Department. There was a break-in at Century Traveler earlier this evening. Your employer, Deron Clarke, confronted an unknown assailant and is now in critical condition in the hospital. The store was torched, and it's completely gutted. Please call me at the station at your earliest convenience."

John went white, and he doubled over like he'd received a body blow.

The second message started. Sasha was looking at him with concern.

"John, this is Carol Lozinski. I just got off the phone with Detective Molina. He's rather insistent that he speak with you immediately. Please give me a call when you get this message."

The phone beeped, and the third call began.

"Mr. Doe, this is Detective Molina again. I need you to call me right now. Your landlady's house has been torched. The structure hasn't cooled enough to do a search for her remains. I hope to God she wasn't in there. Call me."

John immediately grabbed the phone, hung up, then dialed his condo. It rang four times, and his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest.

"Hello?"

"Anna!" he gasped into the phone with relief.

"John? Is that you? What's wrong? What happened?" she cried.

"I'm fine. I was just checking on you. Thank God you're okay," he sagged with relief.

"Of course, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, flustered by his frightened tone.

"I just got back from the woods and turned on my phone. There were voicemails from Detective Molina. Someone broke into Century Traveler, assaulted Deron then torched the shop. He's in critical condition in the hospital," he explained.

"Oh my! The poor man!" Anna gasped.

"There's more... I'm so sorry, Anna, but the detective called again to tell me someone torched your home. It's gone. They thought you might've been home at the time." John felt like he was dying inside. That home had been hers and Ron's and had so many memories, and now it was ashes.

"Oh my! I should contact him," Anna said in a daze.

"No, please let my lawyer do it. I don't want anyone knowing where you are until they can find the guy who's burning down buildings. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Please wait for me. All right?"

"Yes, okay. I-I think I'm going to go sit down now and have a little cry," Anna said.

"Anna, I'm so sorry. I'll be home soon," he said but heard a click. He immediately dialed Carol.

"John! Where are you? The police are practically beating down the door to find you!" Carol blurted.

"I just got my messages. I've been deep in the woods north of Seattle with no phone access. I'm waiting for my lift, and it'll take me about two hours to get to the condo, then another two and a half at best to get back to Portland. I'll call you when I land, and we can go directly to Molina if you want. Please let him know. Also, please let him know that Anna Harrison is on vacation and is safe. She wasn't home when her house was torched."

"What? Her house was burned too?" Carol yelped.

"Someone, probably the same guy who destroyed the bookstore, burnt Anna's home to the ground. The cops thought she might have been inside. She's staying with me in Seattle, but I don't want anyone else to know until they get the guy," he explained.

"Okay, I'll call Molina now."

"Can you also make sure Deron Clarke is given the absolute best care in the hospital? Any expert they need, any equipment they need, they got it. Okay?"

"Got it. Call me when you land." She hung up.

John sat back and fought back tears. They weren't going to help. He needed to get back to Portland. He opened up the app on his phone to book a flight when he saw the cab pull into the lot. He grabbed Sasha's hand, and she snagged their pack as they ran for the car. Jerry was all smiles until he saw the grim looks on their faces. He jumped back in, and as soon as they were buckled in, he spun the wheel and peeled back onto the highway headed to Seattle, no questions asked.

"How quickly can we get back to the condo without losing your license?" John asked.

Jerry pulled a laser jammer from the glove box and plugged it in. "I can get you back in an hour and fifteen, traffic permitting," Jerry replied.

"Thanks! I'll need a lift to the airport, so keep the meter running," John said. Jerry nodded.

John bought tickets for two separate flights in case he missed the first.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Sasha held his hand.

When they got to the condo, he gave her a kiss in the elevator, and she exited on her floor, then he went up to his. He rushed into the unit and saw Anna sitting on a couch looking out over the city, used tissues piled up in a little trash can by her feet. He rushed to her and gave her a hug.

"John? What happened to you?" Anna gasped. "You're... bigger!"

"Damn! I was hoping it wasn't so noticeable. Apparently, the first time you transform, there can be... alterations when you change back. Sasha failed to mention it to me because it was just her hair color in her case. I got ... this!" he gestured to his new physique. "I'm taller, and my feet don't fit my shoes. How am I supposed to explain that to Molina? If you spotted the difference so quickly, he'll flip out. He hates the unexplainable."

Anna shook her head.

John took her hands in his. "Anna, I'm so sorry for your home being destroyed. You know you will always have a home with me. Before this happened, I was going to ask you if you would consider moving in permanently. This condo is nice, but it isn't home without you."

"But I have a job in Portland!"

"And you could set up a new branch of Haven Yoga center here in Seattle. It's a good investment for me if I can have you close by. Please think about it. I have to catch a flight now." He leaned in and gave Anna a kiss on the cheek and a firm hug. "Please stay."

He dashed to his bedroom to pack some clothes but realized nothing would fit. Anna's warning about needing a new wardrobe had come true with a vengeance.

He rushed back into the living room, gave Anna another quick peck on the temple then rushed to the cab. Jerry set a new cross-city speed record and got him to the airport in time for the first flight. He paid the cabbie four times the meter's huge fee, and his eyes bugged out. John promised to call the man when he returned.

As he ran for the gate, he called Carol.

"John? Are you in Portland already?" she asked, surprised.

"No, I'm just boarding the plane. I need you to pick me up some things before I get there." He gave her a list and hung up as he boarded the plane.

He was leaving the Portland terminal a little over an hour later when he heard Carol calling out to him from the curb.

"John? John! Oh my God! What happened to you?" Carol gasped.

"Shit! This is going to go so badly when we meet Molina!" John growled.

"Uh, I got the stuff you asked for. Now I understand why. Get in before they tow my car," she said, her eyes drinking in her client's new buff body, tightly stretching his running clothes. The parking official was also enjoying the view and licked her lips aggressively. He felt a little over-exposed in the overstressed spandex.

John slid into the passenger seat and slid it all the way back. He reached for the shopping bag in the backseat.

Carol pulled away from the curb and headed for the police precinct. She glanced over and saw John straining to remove his too-small running shoes. Next, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the running tights and peeled them down his legs. Then he was sitting naked on the seat. Carol swerved back into her lane.

"Eyes on the road, Carol!" John growled, the wolf assisting.

She gasped as a shiver ran down her spine.

John tried to pull the shirt over his head, but in the tight confines of the car, he just managed to rip the shirt into shreds. Now he was completely naked and not happy about it.

"Oh my, John! You're beautiful!"

"Eyes forward!" he barked.

He pulled the new, white button-down shirt from the bag and managed to get it on with a great deal of contortions and without tearing it. The soft grey slacks slipped on next, and while they were still a little tight across his thighs, they at least weren't threatening to split down the seam.

The socks and boots would have to wait. There just wasn't room to put them on while seated in the car. He also spotted the trench coat, which might hide enough of his new body to keep the detective off the trail... but he doubted it. In their short acquaintance, Molina didn't strike him as easily distracted.

They pulled into the lot across the street from the precinct. He swung the car door open, then tugged on the socks and boots, which felt so much better than the cramped runners. Standing up, he pulled on the trench coat and found it wasn't as baggy as he'd hoped.

"Damn! Are you going to be a male model in your new life?" Carol grinned. "You look delicious!"

He blushed furiously and gestured for them to hurry. He was filled with dread.

They asked for the detective and were asked to wait in a conference room.

A few minutes later, a very exhausted Molina walked in and sat in the chair across from John. He rubbed his eyes and then took a long swig from his paper cup of coffee. Grimacing from the cool bitter liquid, he looked across the table at John. He went still.

"Fuck me," he said incredulously. He studied the man squirming in his seat, then sighed. "Do I even want to know?" he groaned tiredly.

John stared him in the eye and shook his head slowly.

The detective scowled. "Yeah, I do... but not today."

John could accept that. He nodded.

Having pushed that aside, the detective got right to it. "Mr. Doe, where were you yesterday between the hours of eight PM and midnight."

"I was camping in the woods north of a small town in Washington State called Skykomish. I was well up in the mountains and had no cell coverage. My phone was off until this morning at eleven-thirty. That's when I picked up my messages."

"Can anyone corroborate this, or were you alone?" he asked with an edge to his tone.

"I was with a friend, Sasha Leonov. She was a friend of Wallace Laroche and lives in the same building. I met her, and she took me to a spot that Wallace liked to camp."

"You met her when?" Molina asked.

"Two days ago."

"And she takes you camping? Really friendly people up there in Seattle," Molina said sarcastically.

John let it go as the man was obviously tired.

Molina scowled at him again, then rubbed his face. "I'll need a phone number to call her." John pulled it up on his phone and showed it to him. Molina tapped out a quick e-mail and sent the number to one of his junior officers to follow up on while he was questioning his suspect.

"Okay, let's move on. The attack on Mr. Clarke. Do you have any ideas who might hold a grudge against the man, anyone who might get violent with him?"

John's face paled. "What happened to him?"

"Please answer the question."

"No, no one hated Deron. He was a sweet man! Strong moral principles and a doting father. No enemies at all," John said, struggling to keep it together.

There was a knock at the door. Molina looked over his shoulder and saw one of the officers he'd left back at the bookstore. The man was gesturing with a folder, and his face was grim.

"Gimme a minute," the detective said, pushing himself to his feet. He stepped outside and closed the door.

"What's that about?" John asked.

"We'll find out. You're doing very well, John," Carol said, patting his arm. She had to pull her hand away as she wanted to slide it up and squeeze his bicep.

Molina nodded to the other officer. He opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind him. He took a moment before turning back to the table to sit down. He looked John right in the eyes, assessing the man across the table.

"The case has just been upgraded from assault and arson to include murder," he said, watching carefully for John's reaction.

John froze. "Deron's dead?" His face went white with shock.

Molina grimaced. "No, who worked on the top floor?"

"Kelly? Kelly's dead?" his voice barely a whisper.

"We believe so, but the remains have yet to be identified. What do you make of this?" the detective slid a photo across the table toward John.

Frightened to look, he averted his face and watched Carol. He saw her brow furrow in confusion as she looked at the image. He turned back and saw it was a view of Kelly's computer lab. All the photos Kelly had pinned to the wall were gone, and in their place were three large letters smeared across the surface in something red.

D O E

Kelly was dead, and the killer was looking for him.

"Oh my god. It's him," John whispered.

"Who?" Molina leaned forward, his eyes sharpening.

"Kelly told me someone was trying to hack my e-mail account. Had been trying for a few days. Kelly played him, and he left. He came back later and tried taking our whole network down as a distraction while they continued to try hacking into my account. She said he was really good and persistent but not as good as her. She was working with the FBI to track this guy as they've been trying to get him for years. She said she was close to getting him."

"Why was he after your account?" Molina asked.

"I don't kno--"

"DON'T YOU BULLSHIT ME!" Molina yelled and slammed his hands on the table.

John recoiled. He barely heard Carol jumping to his defense. The loud slap on the table after the multiple hits of emotional trauma after weeks and weeks of odd shit was enough to push him into a dissociative state. He sunk into his mind and found himself sitting in a lovely meadow on the side of a mountain. Blue skies arched over him, white clouds majestically gliding by and sunlight dappling the valley floor below. A fresh breeze blew across his face, and he smiled.

"Hello, Wolf," he said as he turned his face to the right. The huge black wolf sat next to John, contemplating him silently.

"It's nice. I can see why you come here." John wasn't sure how he knew, but this place was important to the wolf.

John jumped to his feet when the wolf gave him a nip.

"What the fuck!" he yelled, holding the painful spot where the wolf bit him. It tilted its head and continued to look at him.

John looked around for another spot to sit down but yelped with pain instead from a stronger nip. He hadn't seen the wolf move, but it was definitely responsible for the bites. John looked at the wolf and understood. The wolf needed him to leave. To re-enter the world.

"People die out there. People you care about die," he whispered, his voice shaking.

He saw an image of Anna, Melanie, Satomi, and even Sasha and felt almost overwhelmed by the sensations of cool winds, damp earth, and spring flowers. He caught the message. Life was out there. Life that was still important to him. He hugged the wolf and felt soft hands on his face.

"John!"

He distantly heard her voice then the room snapped back into focus.

"Clay tablet," John whispered.

"What did he say?" Molina's gruff voice said.

John turned his head towards the detective's voice. He saw the man leaning forward on the desk. "Was anything stolen? Like a large crate containing a clay tablet?"

"They're still picking through the rubble. Some rooms took far more damage than others. The stock room was badly scorched. What was so special about the tablet?" the cop asked.

"The buyer I had lined up was willing to spend close to half a million for it. I was brokering the deal. It was in the stockroom when I left. It was one of two, and the other one was involved in a... murder," he explained, feeling ill.

"How does that connect to this hacker?" Molina asked.

"The hacking began shortly after I began working on the deal. Kate Darrows..." his mind drifted off and ran away ahead of him, connecting the dots.