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    Trey's Partner: shifters and partners, #9
    Trey's Partner: shifters and partners, #9
    Trey's Partner: shifters and partners, #9
    Ebook219 pages2 hours

    Trey's Partner: shifters and partners, #9

    By Hollis Shiloh

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    About this ebook

    Trey's life has been one of protection and privation.  Facing a hungry winter, he leaves his mountain home and family and goes looking for work in the human world.  The "wolf school" seems like a good choice.  He might not know much about the modern world, but if he can learn to work with a human, he'll earn a good living, never go hungry again, and help his family survive, too.

    It's just a job, and he doesn't understand why some shifters are so fussy about who they team up with.  Finding the perfect partner is a no-brainer for Trey.  He just needs someone he trusts and can work with — someone who isn't overly emotional.  Trey easily finds the right partner — as long as his choice agrees to it.  As long as no emotions get involved.

    Heat level: very low

    45,000 words
    A Shifters and Partners Novel

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSpare Words Press
    Release dateOct 15, 2016
    ISBN9781536525380
    Trey's Partner: shifters and partners, #9

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      Book preview

      Trey's Partner - Hollis Shiloh

      https://madmimi.com/signups/221447/join

      (or write me at Hollis.shiloh@gmail.com)

      ––––––––

      About the story:

      Trey's life has been one of protection and privation.  Facing a hungry winter, he leaves his mountain home and family and goes looking for work in the human world.  The wolf school seems like a good choice.  He might not know much about the modern world, but if he can learn to work with a human, he'll earn a good living, never go hungry again, and help his family survive, too.

      It's just a job, and he doesn't understand why some shifters are so fussy about who they team up with.  Finding the perfect partner is a no-brainer for Trey.  He just needs someone he trusts and can work with — someone who isn't overly emotional.  Trey easily finds the right partner — as long as his choice agrees to it.  As long as no emotions get involved.

      A Shifters and Partners novel

      45,000 words

      Heat level: very low

      Trey's Partner

      by Hollis Shiloh

      I stood with my fists raised, my stance protective.  My stomach growled hungrily, my muscles burned, and my focus wavered, but I tried to concentrate.  I needed to concentrate, or it would get worse.  My father took my training seriously.

      You're gonna have to be better than this, Trey, said my father, his tone calm.  His stance, however, spelled danger to me.  It was that same, loose-limbed training stance he used when he could be speaking in a friendly way one moment or pounding on me the next.  It was part of my training — and Dad took my training extra seriously, since I was his smallest grown son.  His third — thus Trey — and not nearly as big and brawny as the other two.

      I blocked his next attack, and he nodded approval but didn't let up.  I  didn't feel up to counterattacking, not as tired as I was, fighting to keep my balance and not lose focus from hunger or exhaustion; but I knew he wouldn't stop till I got a blow or two of my own past his defenses.

      He trained me extra hard, wanting the best from and for his smallest grown son, and his only homosexual one.  I was, if not a disappointment, then definitely a cause of worry. 

      We lived on top of a mountain, my family: my parents, my two brothers, me, and Mom and Dad's two newest puppies.  Life was hard, and sparse, and there were plenty of times we went to bed hungry.  We grew or caught most of our own food, none of us having regular, human jobs down the mountain. 

      We lived hard lives, but at least we had our freedom.  Nobody came to hunt wolves anymore; nobody at all.  It was much better than it used to be in the old days, in our great-grandparents' days, the family said.

      I believed it.  But sometimes, I still wanted more.

      Dad pummeled blows at my defenses, and I could feel them weakening.  I couldn't lose my balance and fall.  I had to counterattack — now. 

      I went for it, pretending to slip sideways in a skid on the damp, crooked rock on which we fought.  It formed a kind of natural platform, with scraggly pines on one side, stunted and twisted maples growing on the other.  A good place to practice, because the landscape was as much of a challenge as the fighting.  My older brother had tripped on an uneven bit and broken his ankle, when he was younger.  He still limped sometimes when the weather changed.

      I pretended to slip, and used the momentum to dive under Dad's defenses, punching him good and hard in the thigh.  He went down immediately on top of me; the two of us rolled, and punched, and rolled a little more, to the edge of the rock.  I was breathing hard, and our breath showed in the cold mountain air.

      Good, grunted Dad, and sprang away from me.

      Standing out of my range, he shucked off his trousers and changed to his wolf form immediately.  He looked at me from the scrubby pines, regarding me with his serious blue eyes.  He was a mostly white-furred wolf, going gray at the muzzle.  He was breathing hard, but I could sense he still had a lot more strength left than I did.  I waited, very still, to see if he wanted to continue the sparring, and my training, in wolf form.

      Instead he stared at me a long moment, assessing, judging, accepting.  Then he gave a faint nod and trotted back toward home.

      I knew he probably wasn't going there directly.  He would likely hunt for an hour or so first.  If he caught something, a deer perhaps, or even a rabbit, the puppies and Mom would eat tonight.  If he didn't, they'd probably go hungry.

      They were very small, an unexpected litter late in life, late in the season.  Mom and Dad were excited to have more pups, but worried, too.  They'd had enough trouble raising me and my brothers, and the mountain was getting crowded.

      I stared after him.  By all rights, I should hunt, too.  I was ludicrously hungry.  Every part of my body ached, and I couldn't bear it.  I knew my father's training was necessary to help me survive.  It was still tough on me, every time he made me spar with him.  I dreaded the times we practiced, though I tried never to show it.  Other lessons of my survival had been a lot more enjoyable: when my parents taught me to hunt, when they taught me to read, when they taught me to slip silently through the shadows of the mountains.

      We lived a good life — or would, if it wasn't so damned hard sometimes.

      Instead of going hunting, I walked slowly and achingly down to the pool.  It was shallow, with dark rocks at the bottom, mostly-still water that was clear and shallow, and grew warm during the day from sunlight.  It was getting cold, but I knew the pool was still warm enough to comfort my bruises and let me rest a little.  If I didn't do something, I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.  I knew from experience the aches would only get worse, especially without food.  My tired body needed strength to repair itself.

      At the pool, I looked around, then approached it quietly.  It's always good to be as quiet as possible when you want to be alone.  I slid my ragged clothes off and eased into the water with a sigh.  It wasn't as warm as it would've been in the summer, but it was warm enough to feel pleasant against my skin.  I closed my eyes and released my tension, letting myself float, relax.

      Why do you do it? chattered a familiar voice all of a sudden.

      My eyes popped open and I glared up at my friend, the squirrel shifter named Johnnie.  I covered my privates indignantly and scowled.  What do you want?

      He was naked, because he didn't believe in clothing, and ran around most of the time in his squirrel form.  To be honest, he usually only changed to come and talk to me.  He talked a lot — too much.

      Now he crouched by the edge of the pool and splashed me with a few drops of water.  Why do you work so hard just to go hungry?

      What other choices do I have?  I closed my eyes, ignoring his slim, hairy body.  I wasn't attracted to him — not exactly — but it was hard not to notice a naked male body when it didn't belong to one of my massive brothers.  Johnnie was smaller than me, with a squirrel's quickness.  He talked quickly and often, and had a very short attention span. 

      We had a truce with the squirrel shifters on the mountain, although we could kill any non-shifter squirrels.  Most of the time we all just gave each other respectful nods and a lot of space, but Johnnie and I had been friends when we were little, and stayed friends now that we were older.

      He tossed something light at my head, and I opened my eyes quickly to see him getting ready to toss a second acorn cap at me.  Pay attention to me, he demanded.

      Johnnie's family was a lot less strict, and he could do pretty much whatever he wanted.  Sometimes I envied him that.  But then, their food just grew on trees, and there always seemed to be plenty to eat for the squirrels, even when winters were hard and there were lots of young ones. 

      Nuts lay thick on the ground throughout the forest, even now, when it was nearly winter.  While we could and did eat some varieties of nuts, it was never enough to keep us wolves going.  We needed meat and variety.  And lots of it.

      I frowned at my friend and rubbed at my hair to get his detritus out of it.  Stop that.

      "Then listen to me.  You could do so much better than this!  You're clever and pretty, and there are jobs down the mountain in the human world.  Even jobs for wolves."

      His eyes sparkled at me, and I wondered just how long he'd been waiting around till we could be alone together.  He'd obviously had something to say to me, so important he could barely hold it in. 

      I sat up and stared at him.  Why?  What did you hear?

      As a wolf, I was well aware there were few places in the human world that I could survive and which would accept me.  If he'd heard of a job that would actually accept wolves, then I was all ears.

      They hire wolves who can smell really good, and — and they pay them good money, he said.  I heard all about it on the last trip to town. 

      Johnnie loved going into town (and would even reluctantly put on clothes to do so).  He loved exploring and asking questions and was basically as nosy as you could possibly imagine.  He regaled me with tales of dancing and drinking, of grocery stores packed with food, of heavenly-smelling donut places open at all hours.  I'd never been able to go with him so far, but I liked listening.

      Now he looked a bit downcast.  I was going to bring back one of the papers, but I forgot.  Maybe next time...

      Tell me what you heard, I said.  Are they hiring a lot of wolves? 

      Maybe my brothers or I could find work.  Maybe we could send money or food home to help the family survive winter, and my two tiny sisters.  And if it really was about our senses of smell, then I had as good a chance as my brothers, maybe better.  I'd always had a keen nose.

      Well, I woke up in the morning after some great sex with a sweet lady, I think her name was Jane but I could've heard it wrong, anyway she was amazing, and I heard some wolves outside and said, 'What's up?'  And she said, 'Oh, haven't you heard?  That's the wolf training facility now.  They work with people.'  And I hadn't heard anything about that, so of course I said, 'What do they do?'  She said, 'I think it's about smelling things,' and then she kissed me and pulled me back into bed and I forgot to ask any more questions.  Boy, Jane is great!  I'm seeing her again next week.  I can ask then, if you want.

      I can go and ask for myself, I told him.  I'd gone to town twice before with my father, so I could learn about people, but it wasn't a safe place for us and I'd never gone alone.  My great-great uncle on my mother's side had been killed by the townsfolk, his corpse strung up high at the edge of the mountain to warn us.  Since then we'd always been cautious about going into town, in either form.

      They used to keep sheep, and hated wolves.  Things had changed down in the valley faster than they had on the mountain.  None of us could forget that, even though we hadn't been alive to see it. 

      I was curious about this job, though, and I was old enough to go on my own now and find out.  If I went in my human form and was careful, they needn't know I was a wolf unless I wanted them to.  I would be fine.

      It was worth the risk, with this hard winter coming and so much hunger on the mountain.  Sometimes I felt like I could chew on my own leg if it would ease my raw hunger.

      I'll go with you! said Johnnie, jumping up in enthusiasm.  I averted my eyes quickly, but not before I saw his thick dick and furry balls jiggling. 

      C'mon, Johnnie.  Why can't you remember I'm attracted to men and cover up? 

      But it had never occurred to him to be shy about nudity or sex.  To be honest, it didn't usually bother me, but I didn't like seeing his junk in my face, either.  If reminded he wasn't wearing any clothes, he'd be more likely to preen and want to show off than cover anything up.  If I ever mentioned he was looking attractive, he'd be deeply flattered, even if he had no interest in men.  So I made sure never to tell him.  This was one squirrel whose head was big enough. 

      He'd never met a woman he didn't like.  And most of them seemed to return the favor.  I would be surprised if, by the end of his lifetime, there weren't dozens of squirrel shifters who looked and sounded suspiciously like him running around and seducing folks left and right.  He, unlike most of

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