Chapter 2

By the time Leila returned to the bar room floor, she was feeling somewhat sated, but her carnal urges had not entirely dissipated. She vowed to stay as far away from Sterling Mount as possible for the remainder of the balmy July night. Sterling didn’t make that easy. Even without him looking like he had just rode straight out of a wet dream on his stallion, he had the type of personality that naturally attracted others. He was calm and easy like a gentle, welcomed spring breeze, slow to anger and quick to smile.

Sterling was something of a mystery in Stillwater, because somehow he had come from the loins of one mean old son of a gun. Titus Mount had been one hard, mean, and gruff old man. Many claimed it was Vietnam who had changed the man, and he had once been as jovial as his progeny. Lucille had remained ever faithful by her husband’s side, though rumor was she only had one child because of her husband’s hair trigger temper and rapidly changing moods. Lucille didn’t want to subject another human being to what went on behind the closed doors of the Mount family’s white and beige stucco home.

Luckily, in the last few years of his life, Titus Mount had put the bottle down more, and turned to the Lord above. He was even attending church regularly towards the end, trying to make amends to his family. Maybe that also had a hand in why his son turned out to be such a good man, and why Sterling sobbed by his father’s casket. At his father’s eulogy, Sterling spoke of losing a man he had once feared and often times hated, but had loved and respected when Sterling became a man himself. Maybe the fact that Sterling had sworn off alcohol was another reason for it. He knew alcoholism ran in the Mount family just as prevalently as high blood pressure. So he vowed to take extra good care of himself.

As Leila eyed his body, she knew milk and exercise had done that body good. And she looked forward to finding out all the mysteries of Sterling . Particularly the one between his legs. She had seen him dance a time or two, swaying his hips. Thrusting during that line dance just a few hours ago, before the A.C. died. He seemed to know just what to do with those hips of his.

She glanced at the half melted bucket of ice on a table. Left over from the bucket of beer bottles Gary Kline had purchased as part of his weekly Saturday boys night out tradition. He and a few of his buddies, who all made their livings as fisherman, assembled here every week to throw back beer, whiskey, and trade stories. Leila was tempted to pour the bucket of half melted ice over her head.

Luckily, Zanna Valdez walked in the door, proving to be the distraction she needed. Leila was waiting for the one of Valdez twins to arrive for their shift so she could ask them to swop tomorrow night’s shift. Tomorrow was the night Leila really needed off. The night of the full moon, when her plans consisted of her wolf running through the mostly unhabituated Everglades surrounding the small town of Stillwater, Florida. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to request tomorrow night off, usually she was careful about such things. But never had Leila found so many distractions as she had in the Stillwater. One in particular. He stood just over six feet tall, with the body like a Greek God.

In the month she had been working here, Leila had learned to tell the Valdez twins apart by their mannerism, clothing, and Zanna was never without a rosary around her neck. They were both beautiful with light mocha colored skin that Leila would never achieve even if she spent the rest of life in the sunlight, large almond shaped brown eyes, curly black/brown hair, and perfectly straight noses with a light smattering of attractive freckles. They both were thin with seemingly unproportioned large chests and asses in comparisons to their skinny frames.

Zenia was the oldest by a few minutes, and the unspoken, devil may care twin. She was blunt, said what was on her mind, and dressed any damn way she pleased. She was never shy about anything, including her religion, Santeria. Santeria shared some similar elements to voodoo, but had some differences, and wasn’t as widely accepted or practiced. She was taught the religion by her grandmother Alba who had emigrated from Cuba along with Zenia and Zanna’s parents before the twins were born.

The twin’s parents had rejected Santeria and converted to Catholicism once in the United States. Zanna had followed in their footsteps and was a devout Catholic. She attended Mass twice a week, dressed conservatively, had made a vow of chastity, and was constantly attempting to convert her twin. Leila had witnessed more than one argument between the sisters on the topic of religion among other things.

Leila made a point to stay out of politics and religion. And Sterling had made it clear to all employees, his bar wasn’t the place to try and convert his patrons. Leila wasn’t sure her own stance on the Lord above or religion. She believed God existed, but felt as though she had a bone or two to pick with the man upstairs. And she secretly wondered if he had a hand in the creation of werewolves, or if their origins came from someplace farther south.

Leila figured she just needed some time to figure it all out. To figure out what she believed. But now that she was distanced from her old pack, she had the time and space she needed to do just that. She had spent five long years being told what to do, how to feel, and what to believe. Being able to think for herself and make her own decisions was a godsend in itself. And Sterling saying to leave your religion in your pocket at his bar was all just fine with Leila. Speaking of fine, Sterling looked real good when he was coaxed up on stage by Grandpa Roy to sing a quick number.

Zanna made her way across the bar, and slipped behind the counter to put her apron on. Her black skirt touched the bottom of her knees, and her white blouse showed no cleavage, buttoned up to her collarbone. Her rosary dangled from her slender neck and her hair tamed in a neat bun at the nape. Zanna was the type of girl who was pretty without any effort at all. While Leila often fought to tame her own raven waves, many times unsuccessfully.

Leila tried to ignore Sterling crooning from the stage, as she grabbed some empty bottles from an nearby table, and made her way to join Zanna. Zanna greeted her with a smile. She had to raise her voice to be heard over Sterling’s joyful noise.

“Hello Leila. How have you been?” asked Zanna.

“Hi. I’m good. How about you?”

“Well blessed. The Lord had granted me another day so I can’t complain.”

“That’s nice to hear. Your family doing well?” continued Leila.

“Oh yes. Papa was feeling poorly yesterday. I think he got too hot while he was working in the garden. But he’s feeling much better today. A bit of Mama’s love and care and prayer has worked wonders.”

Zanna finished tying her apron and gave Leila another smile. Leila always found conversations between herself and Zanna more awkward than with Zenia. She searched for common ground with Zanna but often found herself coming up short. And since Leila had refused numerous offers to attend mass with Zanna, things had just gotten even more awkward.

“Glad to hear it. You’re lucky Sterling just got the A.C. up and running in here. It was blazing hot in here,” said Leila, still attempting small talk.

Zanna fingered the rosary around her neck. “I don’t believe in luck. Everything is already written in God’s plan, Leila. And it will be much hotter in hell. We will all face judgement for our transgressions. Say, how about you cover the bar until Sterling is done, and I’ll take the floor.”

Leila wasn’t entirely sure how to take Zanna’s words. But that was just typical Zanna for you. She usually didn’t single out any one sinner, but made blanket statements about judgment and what happens to those who don’t repent and confess. Leila knew Zanna got away with more than she should against Sterling’s rules about talking religion in his bar, but Leila didn’t need to stir that pot. No harm done as far as she was concerned. Zanna was proud and open about her religion, just like her twin was, though Zanna was quick to bad mouth Santeria and show disrespect to other religions. Zenia was tolerant and open minded in a way her twin would never be.

“One more thing before you go Zanna,” spoke Leila.

Zanna turned back around and gave her another sugary smile with pearly white teeth.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you or Zenia would be able to trade me shifts. I really need tomorrow night off. I have something I have to take care of that slipped my mind.”

“I can tell you Zenia is unavailable . The night of the full moon, my sister does her pagan rituals out in the swamps,” Zanna said it with disgust, practically spitting out the words, “I’m praying for my sister’s soul. But I could work for you. I don’t mind. I’m sure Father Helton would understand helping out a friend in need to work on the Lord’s Day of rest.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out or go against your religion or anything.”

“It will be no problem at all Leila. I would be happy to do it. You can take my Wednesday instead. That way I can attend a double Mass. See it works out nicely.”

“Thank you so much Zanna. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. What are friends for? Just remember if you ever want to attend Mass Leila, you have my number. We are living in the end times after all.”

Leila nodded and thanked Zanna. She was relieved when the other girl left to start serving patrons and clear tables. Zanna made her uncomfortable at times, but she seemed to have that effect on everyone. Leila pulled herself from her head and turned her focus to the customers. She had picked up some bartending here and there, and some under Sterling’s tutelage but by no means considered herself an expert. Luckily, in the Stillwater Bar and Grill, most folks weren’t after those fruity fancy drinks, but the classics like Jack, Captain Morgan, Jose, and Bud.

Leila served several rounds, while Zanna expedited alcohol and food from the grill to the eager and awaiting patrons who filled the bar tonight, and every night in Stillwater. An old bowling alley that closed at midnight and had a very limited bar selection, was the only other options for entertainment in the town itself. Stillwater boasted a population of five hundred and seventeen souls, two restaurants, a hardware store, two grocers, a garage, an appliance store, one school, a bank, two clothing stores, one mom and pop shop for antiques and odds and ends, a city hall that doubled as a courthouse and jailhouse, and ten churches. The nearest Movie Theater and mall was a forty-five mile drive north. It was just the way Leila liked it. Small, quiet, quaint. The type of town people only passed through, usually when they were lost and took the wrong exit off the highway. The type of town that was often overlooked and keep to itself.

The things about small towns, was they could be a double edged sword. While no one on the outside gave a damn, the people in that small circle cared more than their fair share. They didn’t always take too kindly to strangers. They seemed to demand to know your life story, especially if you planned on staying. Your business was their god given right to know. Everyone knew everyone’s business, secrets were hard to keep.

Leila had been interrogated numerous times since she first set foot in Stillwater. Some asked with a friendly smile and a laugh over some ice tea, others showed less tact. But they all wanted the same thing, answers. To know all the nitty gritty details about the life of Leila Dupree. From what brought her to tiny Stillwater, where she came from, her sexual orientation, what her life plan was, her political stance, and everything in between. But when you were turned into a werewolf when you were only seventeen, overtime you became good at lying and keeping secrets.

It was a skill necessary for survival. Not only survival from hunters, but also members of your own pack, as Leila came to learn the hard way. She had erroneously believed when she had been turned and claimed by the alpha, her life would be better than the other women in the pack who had been turned by lust filled betas. Alpha Ulric turned out to be the worst abuser of them all, and when he had grown tired of her after a few years of sadistic abuse, and a new younger pure breed caught his eye, Leila was cast aside. She would have found it hard to believe that being used by a few betas would not have been worse than being used by just one wolf. But even the abuse doled out by several members of the pack still hadn’t been beaten out by the Alpha’s torture of her body and soul.

But Leila had refused to bow down on the inside. She refused to be broken, merely bent. But those years of abuse had left their marks just the same. On her body, heart, and soul. It was one reason why she would never let herself get close to Sterling Mount or any man. She watched him regretfully as he sang and smiled. His voice pleasant and smooth. Then he joined her behind the bar and thanked her for taking over.

She stayed away from him the best she could for the remainder of the night. She had to distance herself from him, this town. It was just one short layover after all. When closing time came, usually Leila would linger at the bar with Zenia or another of the flirty waitresses and cut up with Sterling. Leila had reasoned such flirtations were harmless so long as another person was there to act as a buffer. But many nights, Zenia would find an excuse to slip away and leave Leila and Sterling all by their lonesome.

But tonight, Leila knew it wasn’t wise to linger after closing time. She focused on her work, then slipped out of the bar the same time as Zanna. She allowed a final glance back towards the counter. Sterling caught her eye, and she saw a flash of disappointment there. But it was soon replaced by his smile and a wave. He bid her goodnight after he offered to walk her out. She declined his offer. Leila didn’t need a man. Not even Sterling. Beautiful, kind, smart, sexy, Sterling Mount.

She made it back to her small apartment above the hardware store. She stripped off her clothes, kicked the A.C. up full blast, and stepped into an icy shower. She let the water wash across her sweltering body, across her hardened nipples, and down between her burning thighs.

At least she had enough foresight to buy rubber sheets, which she laid her soaking wet body upon across her bed. Panting, she had reached over the side and removed the box beneath it. Her personal pleasure trove. She tried to convince herself it was as good as being with a real flesh and blood, hard, erect man. She worked it in and out with one hand while her other hand stroked. But it wasn’t good enough. Didn’t feel good enough.

In frustration, Leila roared and flung it against the wall. She needed to up the ante tonight or she would stalk the streets of Stillwater until she found her prey. She had standards, but knew they would be dramatically lowered in the heat of the moment. She reached into her box and removed something fresh from the package. She cleaned it in the sink and inserted batteries.

She looked around her small scarcely furnished apartment, until her eyes landed upon her bathtub. She found herself once again inside it. She placed the toy against the bottom of her tub, and then sat atop it. Up and down. In and out. It vibrated and stood straight and erect beneath her. Working herself into a crescendo of building desire as she turned on the shower once more and allowed a gentle caress down her peaked nipples.

When she went over the edge, Leila screamed. Almost feral. She lay panting on her shower floor. The one good thing Leila had to say about being turned, was the orgasms. Multiple and mind blowing. Not that she had many sexual experiences prior to being turned, she had only lost her virginity a couple weeks before to her long term boyfriend Miles. She had taken secret satisfaction at the Alpha’s anger when he realized Leila wasn’t a virgin. He had roared and tore his camper apart, in a fit of rage. She was glad it was one thing he could never take from her.

Leila was sure to make sure her windows and door were locked. She continued to alternate between cold showers and pleasuring herself until dawn. When the sun peaked over the horizon, Leila still felt restless and wild, but her body sensed the change was approaching. Sensed it needed rest. She remained naked, sweaty, entangled in her sheets. She fell into a much needed sleep.

And Leila dreamed. Of a blue eyed man with chestnut hair who took her roughly in the moonlight. Again and again. When she awoke several hours later, her body was sopping wet, and her sheets shredded. The wolf stirred inside her. Begging for release, it wouldn’t be much longer now. Soon it would run wild and free through the swamp.

Leila had learned to stop fighting the change. It only brought pain. She had embraced it. That was what she did as she waited for nightfall. She filled her belly in hopes to help curb the beast’s ravenous appetite. Then she crept into the swamplands outside of town. She stripped naked in the moonlight. The night was hot. Sweat adorned her body like a shroud as she awaited the change to overtake her. She welcomed it.

Her body began to spasm and change. The moon was clear and round, beautiful. It was the last human thought inside Leila’s head before the beast took over. Off into the swamplands it ran. Wild, free, uninhibited. It locked onto a scent. The hunt was on.