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Moonlight shone down from a cloudless sky as Thomas Harris walked through the winter forest. He moved slowly, scanning the trees and ruined houses around him. Most of the buildings were broken down and decrepit; the last time people had lived here had been over a hundred years ago. They might have stood longer in a different climate, but this was what was called a temperate rainforest, where the damp drove everything to rot, and the trees grew with incredible vigor. Towering giants sprouted out of what had been homes, while vines and shrubs tore down the walls that weren't held up by roots.

Once, this had been a thriving town, but it was now hardly recognizable as the work of human hands. A thick layer of snow further blurred and confused things, coating everything in a uniform blanket of white. Only the occasional unnatural right angle or patch of wall, freed from snow by a sheltering evergreen, or rising untouched above the drifts, made the place's past obvious.

Thomas was an odd sight as he moved slowly through the knee-deep snow. He was wearing sturdy boots, plain dark trousers, a plain white shirt, and a lightweight jacket. The frigid night should have had him bundled up in thick layers, but the cold didn't seem to touch him. His jet black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell halfway to his waist, and his fair skin was almost as pale as the snow around him. His face was young, unlined, looking no older than twenty-five. His eyes, piercing blue-gray, swept his surroundings, but his alertness had no trace of fear.

He was hunting.

The snow had slowed his pace, but made tracking easy, and he was hoping to chance on a set of deer tracks, if not the animal itself. He carried no gun, though. He didn't want to shoot the deer, oh no.

As he moved, his breath did not steam in the freezing air and his chest neither rose nor fell.

He needed to catch the deer alive in order to obtain what he needed from it, for he was a vampire.

Unfortunately, his hunt had proved entirely fruitless thus far. The night was still young, so he didn't despair. Still, he hadn't even found a track in the snow yet, which was more than a little frustrating. This was the deep forest; good country for deer, and for elk too. There should be plenty of prey about. So far, though, there was no sign anything larger than a fox lived in these woods.

Suddenly, a flicker of motion froze him in his tracks. The night was a confusion of moonlight and shadow, and even his supernatural vision couldn't immediately make out what it was. It moved again and he sighed as he recognized it. A wolf. Wolves had blood, true, but they were far too difficult and dangerous to hunt as he did, with his bare hands and the power of his mind. He was quite likely to be bitten, and he very much preferred to be the biter in these situations.

With a smile and a shake of his head, he prepared to move on, then paused. They didn't make good prey, but wolves were superb predators. Perhaps this one could lead him to what he sought. It was already out of sight, but it would leave tracks that he could follow.

Feeling better about his potential dinner, he set out along the wolf's trail.

---

Ian Christiansen bounded through the forest, enjoying the challenge of moving in the deep snow. He felt good. He had eaten well yesterday, so the success of tonight's hunt hardly mattered. It was good simply to be out in the woods, running beneath a moon that was waxing towards full. Unlike many werewolves, he loved the night of the full moon. He had never tried to deny or fight what he was. He was a wolf, and even when he fell far away from human thought, being a wolf was good.

He'd encountered humans who thought that werewolves were monsters while in wolf form. That was utterly ridiculous, of course. They were _wolves_in wolf form, and wolves were simply animals. No wolf, were or otherwise, would prey on humans if any other prey was available, even in these hard times. Not that you could ever convince most humans of that, of course. But that thought led to a bitter line of old memories, so he pushed it aside. He was feeling too good to let any worries get him down.

Between the trees, he glimpsed motion. For a moment he thought it was Justin Ackerman, his hunting partner, who should be moving somewhere nearby, seeking out his own meal.

This was not the other wolf.

As he froze and watched, it moved again, and he realized it was something human. He flattened himself against the ground and crept closer. The figure was tracking something through the snow, and Ian had a sudden strong suspicion that it was following Justin. The other werewolf always had run faster, so he was probably far ahead by now.

Then a hint of breeze brought the stranger's scent to him and he bristled. Not human, nor anything even remotely like human. It was a vampire. He bit back a low growl. He couldn't let the creature hear him and he couldn't let it stalk his partner!

Silently, he rushed across the space between them, hurdling brush that might have rustled underfoot and sending snow spraying up around him. With a silent snarl, he leaped at the vampire.

---

Thomas caught a flash of white teeth out of the corner of his eye, and twisted away with inhuman speed. It wasn't quite enough. The wolf's snapping jaws closed on air as he moved, but its body hammered into his, dropping him to the ground with two hundred pounds of wolf on his chest. Unfortunately for him he fell not on bare ground but on a tangle of fallen wood, and his head bounced off a branch. Many legends about vampires were lies, but this much was true: wooden weapons could harm him. Pain shot through him from the impact, and darkness followed it. He lay still, knocked unconscious and unbreathing, as the wolf picked itself up and snarled down at him.

---

He woke slowly to an awareness of throbbing pain, quickly supplemented by arguing voices, very nearby.

"...absolutely not. Back off."

"Why not? It's a god-damned vampire, Justin!"

"You should listen to yourself! _He_is a person with a condition not unlike our own."

"That's different. You should know that. Werewolves mix the wolf and human, and neither of those are evil. Vampires aren't human at all." Thomas bit back a groan and considered sitting up. He didn't feel at all well, and he couldn't be sure if lying still and letting the argument play out would be better than getting up and joining in.

"Ian... You don't know that"

"I know a vampire killed Rachel." The first voice was very flat as he said that, the flatness of grief held tight within. Thomas winced. It couldn't have been him, but all the same... He was sure he had left people with that dead voice, that iron grief.

The second voice sighed deeply. "You don't _know_that either. I know how it looked, but you're still just assuming. I would think that after all the assumptions humans have made about us, you'd know better."

"He was hunting you," snapped the first voice. "I know that much, at least!"

Finally having something to add, Thomas opened his eyes and said, a little shakily, "Actually, I wasn't."

He saw two men standing over him. Neither was human. Both were, well, wolves. Wolves that stood upright, a melding of human and animal; swathed in fur, and with protruding canine faces and stubby hands that ended in claws, but humanoid, all the same. One very strongly resembled the animal he'd been following, a gray and white timber wolf with darker markings along its back and shoulders. The other was a little taller, and darker furred, but otherwise quite similar. Werewolves.

The lighter-furred one bent over him. "Are you all right?" That was the voice that had defended him, Justin, presumably.

Thomas slowly sat up, gingerly putting a hand to the side of his head. It was tender, and his hand came away bloody, but it didn't seem to have cracked the bone. However bad the wound, he'd heal eventually, but that didn't stop the aching in the moment. "I guess."

"Justin..." That was the darker-furred wolf, presumably Ian. His eyes were intense, pleading with his fellow canine.

Thomas stayed silent, wiping the blood on his fingers off on the snow. A hint of his own blood-scent hit him in the nose as he did, and his stomach twisted with hunger. He'd been ravenous before this, but the injury was demanding more of his energy, and now he felt positively hollow.

Justin gave Ian a quelling glare and turned back to Thomas. His eyes flicked down to the streak of blood on the snow. "You're hurt."

Thomas shook his head, and immediately regretted it. He groaned.

"If you weren't hunting Justin, then why were you stalking him?" said Ian, his voice still hard with suspicion.

Justin sighed. "Ian... Please don't."

"It's fine." Thomas considered trying to get up, then thought better of it. "I understand how it looks, but I wouldn't hunt a wolf with my bare hands, vampire or not. I was following your friend," he said, nodding towards Justin, "because I was hunting for some kind of prey animal, and doing a miserable job of it. I thought a wolf might be able to lead me to one. I need to feed, but only an idiot would try and feed from a wolf." He attempted a smile, hoping that humor might lighten the mood a bit. "They bite back."

Ian still looked darkly suspicious, but Justin chuckled. "Look, is there any way we can help you?" asked Justin.

Thomas shrugged. "I need blood," he said. "More so now that I have to heal." He immediately wished he hadn't said that, as Justin looked guilty.

"I'm sorry. Maybe... I mean, do you need a lot? I could donate some, perhaps?"

Thomas blinked. He'd hoped they might help him in his original aim, to find some kind of deer to feed from. He hadn't been attempting to ask for_their_blood at all.

"Justin! You can't possibly!" Ian looked shocked and enraged.

Justin growled at him. "And why not? I can afford to lose a little. It's our fault he's injured, you know. Have a bit of common decency, why don't you?"

"My decency was used up when Rachel died," snapped the other wolf.

"Ian..." Justin stopped just short of rolling his eyes. "You hardly knew her. She would have turned you down, you know that. Not to mention that this man had nothing to do with any of that, any more than you and I had to do with the Smith killings. You know, the reason we live out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

A bit of the anger finally went out of Ian and he sighed. "Fine, I get your point. You do whatever crazy thing you want to do to help this...person. I still don't trust him one bit." He turned his back on the pair with a snort of disgust. Justin just sighed again.

"I'm sorry," said Thomas.

"Sorry for what? Ian being an idiot is hardly your fault. Anyhow... I was asking, I think, if you needed much blood?"

"I can take quite a lot, but I don't _need_very much at all. Not enough to weaken, certainly not enough to kill. I don't... I don't like to kill. Not even animals." He suppressed a shudder. He had killed, in the past. He'd sworn never again, but he sometimes wondered what he'd do if his vow ever was tested. If Ian had insisted on killing him, would he have let it happen?

"You can go ahead and take what you need, then," said Justin. Thomas nodded, glad to have something else to think about. He sat up a little straighter as the wolf squatted down next to him. "What do I do?" he asked.

"Just give me your hand," said Thomas. This was odd. He'd seldom had anybody outright offer him their blood. In fact, it had been a very, very long time since he'd tasted anything but animal blood. He wondered briefly how werewolf blood would compare, then took the man's offered hand and lifted his wrist to his lips. He could smell a hint of blood-smell wafting through skin and fur, the one scent he was most attuned to in all the world. He could hear the wolf's heartbeat, and as he pressed his lips to the man's short-furred wrist he could feel Justin's pulse pounding against his lips. It was rapid, the wolf perhaps a bit more nervous than his calm demeanor suggested.

Not wanting to draw out that nervousness, Thomas bit down as quickly and cleanly as he could, his fangs cutting easily through the wolf's skin to reach the rich blood beneath.

As always, the first taste flooded his senses, hot and metallic and wonderful. Immediately on its heels came the touch of the wolf's mind. The bond of blood had formed between them, and they could sense each other's feelings, though it went no further than that; he could not tell what the werewolf was thinking.

Justin's mind felt human, but was layered with a bright intensity and rooted its thoughts firmly in the present. Wolves have little concept of the past, and live in an eternal "now." Justin, like the rest of his kind, had memories and a past like any human but was less inclined to live in it, and more inclined to enjoy present pleasures.

In this moment, Justin was simply enjoying being fed from, reveling in a shameless bloody hedonism. This was a bond that went both ways; Justin could sense him as much as he could sense the wolf, and all the sensation that was flowing out of Thomas now was the pleasure of tasting Justin's blood. This started a feedback loop, each of them feeling more pleasure as the other's pleasure grew, and Thomas very quickly lost control of his emotions. He had meant to keep this as impersonal as possible, to take what he needed, and give what pleasure he could, without bringing anything more into the bond, but now he couldn't. He moaned softly, raw delight at the taste of blood spilling over into something more erotic, and Justin echoed his moan.

"Justin..." Ian sounded worried, and that was enough to force Thomas to get a grip on himself. He couldn't completely fight down the arousal that surged through him, but he did let go of Justin's wrist. He hadn't taken more than a sip, but it was enough to leave him feeling better. He didn't want to lose himself and take too much, or draw the wolf into something that would shame them both later.

Thomas realized he was panting, his breath steaming in the winter night. This reaction to arousal was a holdover from his long-vanished humanity, the breaths unnecessary, but instinctual. He held his breath, trying to calm himself, and looked up at Justin. Ice-blue eyes met wolfish amber, and Thomas realized that Justin was panting as well. "I'm sorry," he said, flushing with embarrassment.

Justin laughed. "Don't be! That felt much better than I expected. And...uh... Much more interesting as well."

Thomas blushed even redder, the new blood in his system coloring his cheeks. "I didn't mean to... Er..." He felt completely off balance and tongue-tied, struggling to express his unwillingness to press his arousal and desire on someone who was likely not the least bit interested in him.

"It's fine," said Justin. "More than fine, in fact." Thomas started and realized that the wolf was still aroused. He then flushed crimson as he glanced downward and a hint of pink reminded him that Justin was, of course, entirely unclothed.

"What the hell are you two going on about?" Ian's abrasive, confused voice cut through the moment.

Justin laughed again. "What I am going on about is that getting bitten by a vampire feels pretty damn good. And I think my new friend here is going on about how he hadn't expected me to be gay."

Thomas somehow managed to blush even redder at the wolf's frankness. No, he definitely hadn't expected that. Hadn't realized it was the case, either. Now, though, he didn't need to feel guilty over pushing a man into feeling sexual pleasure. Or at least not _as_guilty. "Uh. Yeah, something like that," he managed. "Sorry."

"What's there to be sorry about? I enjoyed it." Thomas could still feel him, the bond lingering between them, and there was nothing but honesty and that continuing hedonistic pleasure coming from the wolf. Thomas relaxed a little.

"That's good," he said.

"You should try it!," said Justin to Ian.

"No. Fucking. Way." said Ian.

"Oh come on! If he were as dangerous as your stupid prejudice says he is, he'd have drunk me dry just now, when he had me right where he wanted me. He's fine, Ian. I can vouch for him. And since I can actually feel that he's still got a headache--which is weird, but also kinda interesting--that he could use a little more blood. Am I right?" He turned to Thomas expectantly.

"Well...yes," Thomas nodded hesitantly.

"There you go then," said Justin. "Come on, Ian. Trust me."

Ian sighed. "All right. I know you'll just badger me until I give in. So all right. Here." He stalked over, dropping down next to Thomas and thrusting out his hand.

Thomas took it slowly, and bent his head to bite down. He felt more than a little strange about it, since Ian wasn't exactly enthusiastic, but he did need more blood. Ian _had_said yes, after all.

Once again the initial rush of pleasure hit him, the taste of the wolf's blood electrifying and wonderful. The touch of his mind followed almost instantly. This mind might be less focused on the "now" than Justin's, but it was far more intense; a strong, vibrant, and aggressive personality coursed through it. For an instant Thomas was drawn back into his own past. The last time he had touched a mind with that intensity, its owner had done terrible, wonderful things to and with him.

Ian, however, was neither a psychopath nor a sadist, only iron-willed, and as pleasure spiraled up once more Thomas was able to dismiss the memory and simply savor the blood, enjoy the flood of delight, and let his arousal rise with it. Ian was a hedonist at heart, and Thomas could feel his suspicion and paranoia drop away, replaced with pleasure that escalated into arousal, more than matching Thomas'. A flash of curiosity pressed itself on their minds as Justin made his continued presence in the bond felt, as it flowed through Thomas into both of them. The wolves reached for each other's minds, with wonder at the closeness of this contact, mingled with familiarity--intimacy even. Thomas realized that they were not brothers as he had assumed, but lovers. Even as Thomas still fed from Ian's wrist, Justin leaned in and kissed Ian hard, passion flaring through the link.

Thomas shuddered. It felt so good... It had been so long, so very long... Not just since he had shared blood, but since he had had sex. What the two werewolves were doing and feeling had him incredibly aroused. He wanted to join them, to kiss them both, and do everything beyond.

He managed to cling to his self-control enough to draw back from Ian's wrist once he'd taken what he needed. He sat back, breathing hard again, fighting to get himself under control. The wolves broke off their kiss. They were both panting as well.

"You were right," said Ian. He glanced at Thomas. "I'm sorry."

Thomas shrugged. "It's good to be wary of vampires. Plenty of us deserve our reputations."

"But you obviously don't," said Justin. "You're a _very_nice vampire." He grinned. Thomas swallowed. He looked from one canine grin to the other, and could feel that they were both still aroused. Not that he needed to feel it, what with the naked truth right in front of him. His own reaction wasn't as obvious, but it was as strong. He licked his lips as the two continued to grin at him, feeling a sudden sympathy for rabbits and deer and all other prey. There was a certain thrill in that thought.

"It's cold out here, and not very comfortable," said Justin. "Would you like to come back to our den with us?" His emotions made it clear that there wouldn't be much rest there.

"We're practically strangers," Thomas said, a little hesitantly. "I'm not sure..."

Justin chuckled. "We know each other well enough to know what we want. If you're really not comfortable, though, that's all right."

Thomas hesitated. He was sure the wolves wouldn't force him into anything he didn't want, but what made him uncertain was realizing how much he really did want it. Was he only desiring them because it had been so long? Was he really attracted to them? Did it really matter? "Okay," he said suddenly. He got to his feet, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.