Chapter 2

The front door to the beach house opened and Perry walked in, carrying a pizza box and a four pack of beers. The small woman with the down to earth Lancastrian accent (she was born in Lancashire, England the descendant of one of the Lancashire witches) smiled as she saw her boyfriend already had a glass of something to help him relax.

'Bad day love?' she asked.

Hutch looked up and smiled at her, rising to plant a kiss on her cheek. Their relationship had grown out of friendship and the connection she held with the supernatural world – the world that Hutch had so vehemently denied existed until his partner had been turned. Once Starsky had been infected, he'd turned to Agent Perry Turner of the Dark Forces Task Force for information, help, and then, further down the line, support and, yes, love. Since the brunet's transformation, their relationship had blossomed.

'It was fine. We arrested the robbers who've been plaguing downtown and Starsky ran one of them down without tryin' to eat him. That was a bonus.'

'Yes, I can see that. How is he? Or more to the point where is he?' Perry asked.

Hutch's face fell. 'Downstairs. He's locked up an' safe. But we um….we only just got back in time. He was changin' before we got him to the cage.'

Perry came to sit by her man, rubbing his back and resting her head on his shoulder. 'I know it's hard for you love, but Dave knows he needs to be locked away. He's accepted it, why can't you?'

'Because he's my partner! Which other cop has to put their partner in a cage for three nights a month? I don't see Garcia checkin' perps for blood in case Sharpe feels the need for a little snack. This is just so fuckin' hard…..and unfair. Starsky never asked for this.'

Drawing back, Perry challenged the hurt in Hutch's eyes. 'Hutch, you're both cops. You both went into the job with your eyes wide open. You both knew that you could be hurt on the job, and yet you both still go out on the streets each day. This injury is unusual, I'll give you that, but it's just an injury. The same as a bullet or a knife.'

'But he's had those too' Hutch said softly. His mind went back two years to the game of ping pong, the promise of a three course meal and the five bullets ploughing into the brunet's body.

'Yes he has, but look on the bright side. The lycanthropy has healed him like nothing else could.'

It was true. In the first month of the curly haired cop's infection, the scars from Gunther's bullets had faded, the residual pains from his surgeries had eased and now, four months on, his body was harder, leaner and healthier than it had been for years.

'I know, but it's a helluva price to pay. I don't know if I'd choose it over any other type of injury' Hutch said dubiously.

'You don't know till you have to choose, and like I kept telling you, for most of the time, he can lead a normal life. It's only the three days of the full moon that are his danger times.'

Hutch eased himself up off the sofa. 'Speaking of which, I should go down and check on him.'

'Be careful' Perry said with a smile. She never got tired Of the bond between the two men and whereas some of Hutch's girlfriends had found it tiresome and got in the way, Perry enjoyed the fact that each man watched out for the other. She also enjoyed the fact that she could help them in some small way with her knowledge and she and Starsky had had some in depth discussions about how he was going to have to make adjustments. Some the brunet took to heart, some, she still had to work on.

Hutch opened the door to the basement and flicked on the light. He heard a hiss from the depths of the room and winced. During the changes his buddy had had to deal with, his eyes had become sensitive to light.

Walking into the room, he winced again as he saw the cage and Starsky prowling the perimeter like a…….what? He hated to say it, but his buddy was like a caged wolf.

'Starsk? Can I get you anything?' Hutch asked quietly. Starsky's hearing also ramped up during this time of the month.

The brunet turned to look at his partner, piercing, almost luminous blue eyes shining in the dim light of the basement.

'Let me out.' Starsky's voice had taken on a slightly deeper, huskier quality – still Starsky, but altered a little some way.

'You know I can't do that buddy.'

'You say you're my friend. Prove it. Let me out.'

'No.'

'Hutch please. I hurt. This hurts. Just……'

The blond checked the caged man out, looking for signs of injury. He took a few steps closer to the cage and Starsky stood still, watching, his eyes never leaving the blond's body.

'Where d'ya hurt?' Hutch asked as he got up to the bars of the cage.

'My stomach. I'm hungry. I need food.' As he said it, Starsky's hand shot out through the bars and his finger tips grazed Hutch's arm as the blond sprang backwards out of the way.

'Starsk, don't do this. Fight it buddy. You know you can. Just fight it. You're in there somewhere, I can tell.'

The brunet rested his forehead against the bars, his breath panting. 'Sorry…..fuck…..Hutch, can't do this. Hard……too hard……get out. Leave me……just…..go.'

'I wanna stay with you' Hutch said desperately, needing to comfort the hurting man some way.

The smaller man raised his head, a sneer on his face. 'You wanna stay so that you can tempt me? I can smell your blood. You're like a "copsicle" a big blond ready meal, good enough to eat. Is that what you wanna hear? Is it?'

'No, you know it isn't. But I still know David Starsky is in there somewhere. And my Starsk wouldn't intentionally hurt me.'

Something clicked in the curly head. "My Starsk". Yeah. Starsky hung his head, shaking it from side to side, his voice taking on a more normal timbre as he fought his inner demons. 'Sorry. Wouldn't hurt ya, course not. But you've no idea how tough this is. I can feel the wolf part, it wants to take me over.'

'Don't let it buddy. Perry said if you can fight it for these first few moons, you'll conquer it and pretty soon, you'll be the master of it, and not the other way around. Fight it buddy. I'm here for ya. We both are – me and Perry – but there's only you can fight it.'

'I know. But I need to fight it on my own, no distractions. And right now Pal, you're a big tasty distraction.'

Hutch nodded. 'K I get the message. Howl if ya need anythin' huh?'

Starsky snickered. 'Howl huh? Funny Hutchinson. Very funny.'

Hutch snorted. 'Sorry. Um….shout huh?' he backed out of the cellar and climbed the stairs back up to the ground floor, closing the door and bolting it behind him. Perry was waiting in the living room, the doors open out onto the verandah and the beach beyond.

'How is he?'

'Oh ya know. Up and down. He's tryin' to fight it, but sometimes it overwhelms him.'

'I know. But he's strong. He'll manage' the woman said with conviction. 'And how are you holding up?'

Hutch paused. 'Me? Dunno. Haven't really thought about me much.'

Perry patted the sofa next to her. 'Well maybe now is the time to rectify that. Come and sit down here. The ocean sounds so lovely and see, the stars are out.'

'Don't you have oceans at home?'

Perry chuckled. 'We're an island. We have them all around us, but somehow I can't compare Blackpool with California. Apart from anything else, the temperature is a little different. If we wanted to sit with the doors open listening to the ocean in Lancashire, we'd be wrapped in duvets with a hot water bottle. Not the most romantic scenario in the world!'

Hutch snuggled closer. 'Oh, so we're talking romance are we Miss Turner?'

Perry but on her best southern accent. 'Why Mr Hutchinson, Are you playin' with ma honour?'

'Could be arranged' the blond said, burying his face in her hair.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The sunbeams broke through the small window in the cellar and brought the curly haired cop to wakefulness. It had been four or five o'clock in the morning before he'd finally paced himself into exhaustion and had fallen into the corner of the cage on the small bed to get some sleep.

He'd heard the woman again, prowling around outside his prison. He smelled her too, he perfume powerful and attractive. Almost as attractive as Lya had been to him, but he was still human enough to be in mourning for his lost love and the thought of another woman so soon after Maddox had killed the beautiful werewolf queen was too much to think about.

Talicia had been there every night of his incarceration for three months now though and her draw was getting almost too much for him to bear. He'd seen her a couple of times and what Starsky saw was not unattractive. Talicia was small, petite, with a mane of chestnut coloured hair that flowed and rippled down her back and deep dark brown eyes. She had a lithe grace about her, as had Lya and since the death of the queen, the brunet cop could feel Talicia's power growing. Her pull on him – on his body – was enormous, and growing, but still, he refused to meet with either her, or any of the other wolves in the pack he was supposed to lead. Perry had told Starsky that in mating with Lya he had unconsciously taken over the role of Luprex – king of the wolf pack. Lya had chosen him because he was strong; virile. Everything a wolf leader should be.

Yet Starsky still refused to think of himself as a werewolf. Sure, he felt the power of the moon and the heat in his blood that turned to lust for three nights a month. But he and Hutch had taken precautions. So far only he, his partner and Perry knew of his transformation and Starsky was adamant that it was going to remain that way. He was still a cop, and so far, the heightened senses the lycanthropy had given him had helped him in his day to day activities. How much longer he could keep this a secret, however, was open to debate.

Stretching luxuriantly was one of the good things about his change. The bullets Gunther's goons had put in his body had caused so much damage that even once he was cleared to get back out on the streets, he still had residual pains and they'd always hurt the brunet more in the morning when he was stiff from sleep. Now, he could stretch, breathe deeply and move with no pain, and he was faster and fleeter of foot than he'd ever been.

Starsky got up from the bed as he heard the bolt on the cellar door drawn back. Hutch walked down the steps bearing the key to his jail and opened the cage door quickly.

'Shower?' the blond asked, knowing Starsky was always tired and felt dirty after his nights of change.

'Sure. And breakfast?' the brunet asked hopefully.

'Blond on toast?'

Indigo eyes looked downcast and a flash of pain crossed Starsky's handsome features. 'Sorry' he said softly.

Hutch looked embarrassed. 'It's me that should say sorry. That was in poor taste. I shouldn't have said that. Perry's upstairs. She's made pancakes.'

'With maple syrup?' the kid that made up a big part of Dave Starsky was back.

'Uh huh. Lots. Go an' wash up, I'll save you a stack.'

Starsky bounced up the steps to the living room and through to the bathroom, grunting a morning at Perry on the way. Hutch followed more slowly behind. At 35 neither of the men were slow, but Hutch wondered constantly these days how he was likely to be able to keep up with his partner as time went on.

They sat down to breakfast and ten minutes later Starsky put in an appearance, dressed in his customary jeans and tee shirt and toweling the pearls of water from his hair. As he passed it, the telephone started to ring and he picked it up.

'Starsky.' The brunet's eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. A moment later he put the phone down and grabbed a couple of pancakes from the stack. 'Dobey wants us over at Citrus Point' he announced.

'Now?'

'Uh huh. Someone found a popper.'

Hutch shuddered. 'Jeez, right after breakfast?' The thought of examining a body that had been in the ocean for a few days didn't appeal so early in the morning, but he put down his fork, kissed Perry on the cheek and got his holster and gun from the closet.

'Let yourself out Hon?'

Perry nodded. 'See you later. Don't worry, I'll do the dishes.'

The detectives grinned and walked out into the early morning sunshine. To Starsky, with his heightened senses, the world was full of smells he'd never experienced before, colours so intense that sometimes they almost hurt his eyes and sounds that he would never have heard in the past. It was like being reborn again and it had taken him a while to come to terms with the sensory overload. Now he tried to ignore the blinding white sand, the noise of the crickets hammering at his eardrums and the tang of the salt on the sea breeze.

Getting into Hutch's car, they drove off to Citrus Point a little way up the coast from their home and came to a halt when they saw the small group gathered on the sand. Even from that distance, the brunet's nose wrinkled in distaste.

'Been dead at least two days' he grunted as he got out of the car.

'You can tell from here?' Hutch asked incredulously. 'Can you see the body?'

'No, but I can smell it. Can't you?'

The blond shook his head. 'Fortunately, no. C'mon lets get the ghouls away huh?'

They walked across the narrow stretch of beach to the small group of rubber neckers and nodded to the two uniformed officers sent out for crowd control. One of them, a young man they recognised as Todd Murray who was only in his second month out of the Academy had a hanky over his nose and was looking distinctly green around the gills. As the crowd parted, the detectives could see why.

The body was blue and bloated and had partially dried out in the morning sun, attracting flies and small crabs to the mess. Sightless eyes stared up from the young man's body but it was the damage to his neck that seemed so ghoulish. His throat had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole through to his back, his spinal bones gleaming whitely through the torn flesh.

Starsky drew Hutch a little way away from the crowd.

'Well?' Hutch asked.

'It's a werewolf kill.'

'Are you sure?'

Starsky nodded. 'I can still smell him. He was a wolf. He's been dead a couple of days. Looked like he'd been in a fight.'

Hutch looked back at the body and something caught his eyes. He walked back and hunkered down next to the bloated bulk curiously. 'Look at this' he said, pointing to a clean, round hole in the man's shoulder. Gently he prodded it and the tip of the bullet showed in the wound.

With a clean handkerchief, Hutch prized the slug from the white, wrinkled flesh and stood up.

'What'cha got there?' Starsky asked.

Hutch dropped the slug into the brunet's hand and Starsky yelped and dropped it quickly onto the sand. He looked at the reddened mark on the palm of his hand. 'Silver. A hunter's bullet.'

'Maddox?' Hutch asked.

'Dunno, but I guess we're gonna find out.'