BOUND BY BLOOD.

Before he was turned, Clay had a big brother, who never let him out of his sight. Lachlan saw the werewolf change as well, he saw when Clay was bitten, and when the werewolf attacked him, Lachlan tried to save his brother...

They both survived that day, both bitten, both changed, and both lost. But while Clay was found and raised by Jeremy, Lachlan had no one. For over thirty years, Lachlan thought Clay was dead. Now he knows that his brother is alive, but how will Clay react to his brother's arrival?

CHARACTER PROFILE.

Name: Lachlan Wilder. (Created his own last name when he ran away from his family after his first change.)

Age: 44 (12 when he was bitten).

Hair: Blonde (Shoulder length).

Eyes: Blue.

Height: 6"3 ½'.

Build: Broad shouldered, well Muscled.

Personality: Determined, loyal, honest, compassionate, generous.

PROLOGUE.

I watched from the shadows, as they found the body in the garbage. I'd been watching Clay for days; and by watching Clay, I'd inadvertently been watching his friends too.

I knew their names, I saw how close they were, how they protected each other; and I couldn't help envying the life Clay had with them; a life with family and friends.

A life I'd never had.

At first I'd only been watching because I wanted to make sure he was my brother, now though...

Now I was trying to figure out what I was going to do.

As Clay heaved a bag up, a lower bag slid out and the body tumbled to the ground, rolling onto its back. The man's head lolled to the side at an impossible angle, neck broken. Unruly red hair glittered even in the dark.

I barely heard Elena as she whispered his name, "Peter."

"No," Clay's face was worried as he spoke. "Jeremy. No!"

I watched as Clay shot off into the darkness, his footsteps echoing down the alley as Nick raced after Clay, Elena paused to hide Peter's body, then she ran after them.

I moved forward, kneeling beside Peter's body. Though I had never met him, I was saddened by his loss; he was Clay's friend, and I knew Peter's death would devastate him. I lifted Peter's body out of the garbage, where Elena had been forced to hide him again, and carried him into a patch of dense shadows. I lowered him to the ground, and unzipped my motorbike jacket, laying it gently over his body, obscuring him from view of anyone passing by, before I followed Clay.

I paused when I saw the pool of blood; from it, trails of blood tentacled out, converging in a single thread, leading into the distance. I followed the trail, listening to Clay and his companion's footfalls, but staying far enough behind so they couldn't see me. The blood trail wove around two corners. As I wheeled around the second, I saw Elena put a finger to a puddle of blood just past the corner, then lifted it to her nose.

"Is it...?" Clay asked.

"Jeremy's," she whispered.

"And there's plenty more here if you'd like a closer look," a deep voice said, coming from the loading dock to my right.

I ducked out of sight, waiting until I heard them start moving again before I followed; leaping over the three-foot-high ledge. At the back of the loading dock, Jeremy sat in the corner, propping his right leg on a broken crate as Antonio tore strips from his shirt. As Clay, Elena and Nick approached, Jeremy lifted his left arm to push his bangs back from his face, then winced and used his right hand instead, letting the left fall awkwardly to his side.

I bit my lip, opening my backpack to glance at the first aid kit inside; I wanted to help, but I had no way of knowing how they would react to me.

"Are you okay?"

I winced a the worry I heard in Elena's voice.

"Peter's dead," Jeremy said. "We were ambushed."

"We were heading back to the car," Antonio said as he added another layer of bindings to Jeremy's leg. "I took off to find a bathroom. Five minutes. I must have barely turned the corner and-" He kept his eyes on his task, but self-reproach leached from every word. "Less than five minutes. While I'm taking a damned piss-break-"

Snorting silently, I shook my head; waiting until your opponent was caught of guard was a cowards act.

"They were waiting for an opportunity," Jeremy said. "Any of us could have turned our back for a moment and they would have attacked the other two."

Antonio glanced over his shoulder as he worked. "The new one, the mutt that killed Logan, attacked Jeremy with a knife."

I scowled and shook my head, my opinion of the mutts sinking even lower; bringing a knife to a fight, was an even more cowardly act than the last.

"A knife?" Clay glanced at Jeremy for affirmation, as disbelieving as if Antonio had said Jeremy was attacked with an antique Howitzer. "A knife?"

Jeremy nodded as Antonio continued, "They jumped Peter and Jeremy. No one had time to react. When I showed up they took off. I'd have gone after them, but Jeremy was bleeding pretty badly."

"Not that I would have let you go after them anyway," Jeremy said. "We don't have time to rehash events now. We need to get things cleaned up and go."

He started getting to his feet. Clay hopped over a crate and helped him up.

I froze, cringing as a light breeze buffeted my clothes, any hope that the hadn't noticed my scent evaporated, as Jeremy, Antonio, Elena Nick and Clay all stiffened at the same time.

I was busted!

Swearing silently, I shook my head and slid out from the shadows, before they came after me.

As I stepped into view, I saw their eyes widen in recognition; as children, Clay and I had looked a lot alike - despite my being six years his elder - and as Adults, that hadn't changed.

Antonio was the first to recover, his eyes locked on mine as he frowned. "Who are you?"

I took a deep breath and shrugged, "I'm Clay's brother."

Clay shook his head, looking at me in confused suspicion. "I don't have a brother."

His response shouldn't have hurt; Clay had been so young when we were bitten, I'd known that he probably wouldn't remember me. But knowing, and seeing, are two very different things; and seeing Clay look at me like I was a stranger, hurt more than I could have imagined.

"I am your brother," I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, my hand trembling as I slid the photo out; the photo of Clay and me as children. "I know you don't remember me, but you should be able to recognise yourself," I said, holding it out to Clay.

Nick frowned as he looked over Clay's shoulder, to peer at the photo, "that's definitely you, Clay."

Elena looked at me suspiciously, "if you're Clay's brother, why haven't we heard about you before?"

My breath shook slightly as I took a deep breath, "Because, I've spent the last thirty two years, believing that Clay was dead."