~~Eric~~
"I'm busy! Come back later," he called out to the hallway. Please go away. He could have life-altering conversations with other werewolves later. Right now, he very much wanted to fuck the small woman giggling and trembling on his bathroom floor.
"Open the fucking door or I break it down," the woman said. Avery, she'd said her name was. Hadn't even seen her face yet and he was hating her guts.
Fiona managed to smile up at him, before she grabbed the tub ledge, and forced herself to standing. "I got mine. Ye can get yers next time we meet."
Talk about a gender reversal, and not one he agreed with. Fuck. Shitting fuck shit, he was hard enough he figured the veins on his cock were going to burst and start squirting blood everywhere.
"Alright, I'm coming!" he yelled.
Fiona giggled at him. "Apparently nae," she said, voice a whisper as she picked up her clothes, and slipped them on like a drunk girl trying to sneak out before her mistake for the night woke up. With a wink, she stepped into his bedroom, slipped under his bed, and was gone.
Holy fucking shit that was fucking creepy. Could she sneak in whenever she wanted? Supposedly a fellow named Damien helped her find him, and helped her see into Eric's place; prerequisites for her strange abilities, maybe? She'd said something about Vrall having a special ability, too.
Eric's erection died fast. Girl gone as quickly as she'd shown up, new problems at his door, and he still needed another five or six hours of sleep. Fucking hell. Groaning, he walked to the door, dressed in only his pajama pants. Kat was at the door already, meowing a little, and he scooped her up into his arms before letting another set of problems into his life.
"You must be Eric," an older woman said. A short woman, about the same height as Fiona. Unlike the redhead, the older woman had some muscle to her small frame, and a black ponytail down to her hip. Light tan skin and blue eyes too. Attractive, in a 'could be a young grandmother' sort of way.
"And you're Avery?"
"I am."
Eric grunted. His nose told him she, and the few others with her, were all werewolves. But he didn't need his nose to notice that. Every instinct in his gut, every hair on his body, every hint of their body language all said the same thing: we're wolves, big, bad, unstoppable wolves.
"This," she continued, "is Clara and Carter. I figured you should meet them too, because they're your neighbors. Sort of. Different floor, but you get the idea."
Oh, wonderful. He looked to Carter, a man a bit older than this Avery woman. He was favoring one of his legs; a lifetime of doing that made it easy for Eric to recognize the signals. The long gray hair and beard were intimidating though, like a rocker who'd seen every side of Shitsville, and returned to tell the tale. And his body looked like it was carved out of wood.
Clara was beautiful. God damn. His eyes drifted up and down her body a moment, a reflex she noticed, and returned. He was shirtless, after all. Clara was average height, with the body of a boxer. The dark tan skin, dark brown eyes, and long hair done in box braids, were all terribly attractive, and—Eric, you're just horny because of a severe case of blue balls. Stop thinking with your dick, and calm the fuck down.
"And," Avery said, "this is David, and this is Noah."
Eric looked past the two women and Carter, to the two men in the back. David, based on the gestures Avery made, was the closer of the two. A big guy, with broad shoulders and short blond hair, beige skin. He refused to make eye contact; hell, his eyes kept drifting around, or stopping on something random, like the floor or something on the ceiling. He looked young, too young for what Eric imagined was a rough life, based on the scars, clothes, and musculature on the lot of them.
The other guy was pale as fuck, dark blue eyes with a shaved head, and tattoos along his skin. A lot of his skin. Eric's eyes lingered on him a bit longer than the rest of them, picking out shapes and images from the lines that adorned the man's head and neck, and the arms exposed from his black t-shirt. Eric half expected to see images of wolves and shit, but no, the man had tattoos of dragons and mermaids and skeletons and flowers.
There was a theme to the tattoos, at least. One half of him seemed to be more uplifting, while the other had a darker side. Chainlink tattoos — a classic — circled and separated the two opposing themes. A man who took his ink seriously. Eric could respect that, to an extent, until your body started to look like a billboard for manifestos. This guy was riding dangerously close to that line.
"Can we come in?" Avery said.
Eric groaned, and nodded in toward the inner sanctum of his fancy, gilded cage. "Sure." Sighing, he walked into the living room, and kept Kat in his arms.
The mood was strange. He didn't know these people, and they didn't know him, but they felt familiar. Maybe it was because they were werewolves too, but he doubted it. It was more to do with what they were wearing, their posture, their stances, the clothes they wore and the glances their eyes made.
They reminded him of that Beatrice chick, or even a bit of Jessy. Blunt and honest sorts. He'd take them over that suit Julias he met in the sewer any day.
Avery and Clara got comfortable, taking a seat on the couch. Noah and David didn't seem interested in sitting, Noah stepping to the window to pull the curtain aside and watch the sun peek over the buildings as it rose. David drifted around the apartment, slowly, eyes digging for something. If Eric didn't know better, he'd figure the man was looking for something to steal, or maybe clues to a murder.
Avery motioned for him to come sit on the couch opposite of her. "So, how much do you know about us?"
That you're a cocky, stupid bitch if you think you can order me around in my own apartment. He frowned at her, subtle but piercing, made sure she got the message, and stood beside the TV instead.
"Not much, just that you're the pack in town."
"Julias contacted me," she continued. "Surprising, but I guess Jack was busy. He said you had your first change early last night, and caused a mess."
"You could say that."
"We're not your enemy," Clara said, "you can lower your guard a bit, you know."
Eric redirected his frown to her, and checked Kat. Kat didn't seem very interested in these other wolves; if anything, she looked annoyed, and she gave them the same annoyed glare Eric was giving them. Filled him with pride, and hope, that maybe the dumb cat knew other people better than he gave her credit for.
The man at the window, Noah, shrugged. "We're here to dictate terms for his new life, which he's apparently been getting a lot of, lately. I wouldn't want us to be here either." Evidently, the man was good at putting things into perspective.
Avery rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to ruin your life, Eric. And fuck me, from the little Julias told me before he went under for the day, it seems like you got yanked into the night world by the monsters."
He said nothing. Nothing to say. So, he stood there, and stroked his cat.
"Look, Eric," Clara said, leaning in and putting her elbows on her knees. "You're a brand new Uratha. There's a lot of shit being thrown at you, and unfortunately, you're a problem now."
"Problem?"
