Jack tensed up, asking his dad with worry. "Mom? Is she ok?" His dad nodded, putting a hand to his cheek to comfort him. Jack let himself relax a little, his eyes drifting to Geralf. Geralf checked the bullets in his gun, while Jack blurted out anxiously. "Why would they come for me? I'm not a child..." Geralf flicked his gun up to lock his rifle back in place, answering swiftly. "Wolves don't like when prey escapes. Sometimes... they come for it." The very idea that he was being stalked made him tremble a little. Geralf then pushed Jack's dad aside with the barrel of his gun, approaching Jack with a merciless look as his voice deepened to one that was darker and less forgiving when he asked. "Tell me, Red. What did you do to attract the attention of wolves?" Jack backed up against the door of the bakery, fear welling up within him as he stared into the eyes of Geralf's wolf skull mask. Geralf turned his gun to point it at Jack's chest, asking only slightly lighter in tone but no less accusing. "What do you do when you think no one is looking...?" Jack's dad pushed the gun away from Jack's chest, snapping out. "Enough, Geralf! My son is no werewolf! You saw for yourself yesterday! Stop scaring my boy!"
Geralf chuckled without humor, lowering the barrel of his gun to face the ground. Locking eyes with John, he stated out flatly to him. "True. Your boy is no wolf... but that doesn't mean he's a lamb either. He could just as easily be a devil's whore. After all... he's having problems at home. Isn't he?" Jack paled, looking to his dad for support. His dad let out a heavy exhale but told Geralf firmly. "He's just a little lost. That's all. It's been a rough few years... That's all. I assure you." Geralf glanced at Jack with narrowed eyes, then turned to stand closer to John's side. Leaning in a bit, Geralf said loud enough for Jack to hear. "Little boys that stray from the paths their parents set for them... Often end up food for the wolves. As a hunter yourself, I would think you'd want your boy to be a hunter and not the hunted. Don't tell me how to do my job. While you've been laying with the sheep; I've been hunting wolves in sheep's clothing. No one is innocent. Unless I say so." John straightened up to his full height, turning his head to glare at Geralf as he retorted. "I haven't lost my touch. I know a monster when I see one. They are after my son because he's MY son."
Geralf scoffed out smugly in return. "Then you won't mind if I steal him away to train him how to defend himself? It might help him get back on the right path and stay there. You don't want him to keep straying and getting lost... It only tempts the wolves to corrupt him. They sense weakness in him... and THAT is why they came for him." Geralf looked up at Jack with a wicked grin barely hidden under his mask, when he added to him a bit teasingly. "Come with me, boy. You think you are man enough to be a hunter? Show me." Geralf strutted off, barking orders to other Hunters that were cleaning up dead bodies and checking the area for any lingering stragglers. Jack didn't hesitate to follow, only to have his dad grab his bicep firmly. Leaning closer, his dad told him seriously. "Jack. Don't. Geralf is more likely to use you as a sacrificial lamb than train you. Now that he knows they want you, he thinks he has found live bait." Jack looked his dad in the eyes, retorting a bit coldly. "You don't leave me with a choice. You won't train me, and you won't let me leave to see Granny... He's offering me a way out. And I'm not going to waste it." Jack tried to yank his arm free, but his dad yanked him closer to sternly state into his ear. "Damn it, Jack. I'm trying to protect you. You are not ready to handle what's in those woods."
Jack shoved his dad off him, snapping out. "You let Granny go into them! You think she was ready to go alone? She's your mother and you don't even care that we haven't heard from her!" His dad shoved Jack into the wall of the bakery, snapping out at him. "You think you know everything... but you don't! I love my mother, but you didn't KNOW HER! My father was killed by wolves! My brother was killed by wolves! And she hated me for hunting them! She hates my wife! My life! I am her greatest disappointment! So don't stand there and tell me you knew her better then I did! She spoiled you and made you feel special, just to hurt ME! Now grow up and live your own life! Before assholes like HIM and HER take it from you!" Jack shook his head at him, uttering out under his breath. "I don't believe you." From farther ahead, Geralf called out a bit amused. "Something wrong, boys?" Jack turned on his heel, storming off in Geralf direction. Geralf waited for Jack to join him, putting a hand on his back to guide him toward the large barn. Walking him through the large barn, passed the carriages and bustling hunters, he escorted him out the back and into the large fenced in yard.
The yard had weapons and targets laying around that were in the process of being set up eventually. Patting him on the back, Geralf told him boldly. "Excuse the mess. We're still trying to get settled in. We're a bit behind with this recent attack... but evil never sleeps." Grabbing the collar of his cloak, Geralf stopped him and gestured him to stay. Jack obeyed and Geralf moved off to set up a wooden shield on a stand. Removing a hand ax from it, Geralf asked him curiously. "You have any experience with any kind of weapons, little Red? Or did daddy not want you playing with big boy toys?" Jack glanced at a table that Geralf was headed toward. There a rolled out bundle of weapons sat unattended. Geralf tossed the daggers down on the table, gesturing to them like he wanted him to pick one. Slowly walking over, Jack scanned the table, then picked up a dagger. Turning it over in his hand to feel the weight of it. Geralf snorted to himself, chuckling out after. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. Daggers are for people that like getting up close and personal. And I don't think you have the-" Jack's anger flared, but he turned and threw the dagger with a level head. Putting all his anger and frustration into the throw alone. The dagger whizzed through the air, before hitting the painted center of the wooden shield so hard that it fell off the stand.
Geralf's jaw dropped, and Jack snatched up another dagger to stab it into the wooden table between Geralf's fingers. Geralf jerked his head to look at him with a guarded look, while Jack finally answered with bitterness in his voice. "My name is Jack. And yes. I have played with knives. I know what it takes to use them." Yanking the knife out of the wooden table, Jack added flatly. "And no. You don't need to be close to use them. You just can't miss." Geralf gawked at him, before asking coolly. "Where did you learn to play with knives?" Jack dropped the dagger on the table and slowly walked away to retrieve the other, answering dismissively over his shoulder. "I'm a baker. I use knives all the time." Geralf huffed, retorting bluntly. "I've never seen bakers use knives like that." Jack shrugged, grumbling out as he pulled the dagger free of the shield. "You've probably never seen a baker with a rat problem either." Geralf raised an eyebrow, asking neutrally. "You got good at throwing knives because you have a rat problem?" Jack smirked to himself, replying with a blush. "No. Because I 'had' a rat problem. I don't have one now." Geralf chuckled, asking curiously as Jack walked back to the table. "What did you do with the rats?"
Jack set the dagger down, mumbling out honestly to Geralf. "I might have cooked them into a meat pie and gave it to someone that pissed me off." Geralf raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to him when he asked in a soft whisper. "What did this person do that pissed you off enough to do such a thing?" Jack locked his eyes on Geralf now. He could tell what Geralf was doing. He was still interrogating him. Trying to figure out what kind of person he was. If he was evil in nature like the wolves he hunted. Without blinking or showing a trace of humor, Jack answered stony faced. "He called me a princess." Geralf stiffened, then let out a deep chuckle. Punching his shoulder, Geralf told him with amusement. "Funny. I like you." Lifting his hand to touch Jack's chin with the tips of his fingers, he stared into his eyes and purred out. "I'm sure you are quite the little rat killer... but a werewolf is a lot bigger than a rat. It will take a lot more to surprise him." Something on Geralf's leather gauntlet clicked softly, before a silver knife shot out toward Jack's face. The blade came short of Jack's nose, but Jack jerked backward from it in response anyway.
Stumbling, Jack fell on his ass with a startled cry. Geralf laughed heartily at him, then quickly stomped toward him. Grabbing the front of Jack's shirt, he yanked him close to his face and growled out in a sudden serious tone of voice. "Don't screw with me, boy. Unlike you father, I will strike you down. Rein in the attitude or I'll rein it in for you." Geralf shoved Jack flat across the dirt, straightening up to his full height as he told him openly. "And by the way, Princess. I happen to like rat meat." Geralf turned away from him, stating out lightly. "Stay here while I go find you a sparring partner that is... closer to your level." Geralf vanished into the barn, prompting Jack to throw up his middle finger in his direction. Slowly sitting up, Jack started muttering about the guy not being able to take a joke. Right up until a familiar voice cooed out. "You should quit while you are ahead, Jack." Scrambling up onto his feet, he whirled around to see Mark leaning on the fence. Storming up to him, he snapped out. "What are you stalking me now?" Mark blinked, then gestured to the board that he was leaning on. The board was newer than the others that made up the fence. Jack lowered his eyes to the ground with embarrassment.
Mark's voice was calm and collected when he stated out. "You should pick your friends more carefully. Guy's like that are bad news." Jack scoffed, placing his hands on the board, before blurting out a bit defensively. "I'm not trying to make friends. I'm just using him to get what I want. Which is to get out of here." Mark tapped his hammer against his shoulder, saying casually. "So, I've heard. But I highly doubt you are using him as much as he is using you. If you had friends, I'm sure they'd point that out for you." Mark crouched to rummage through his tools and Jack crouched too to reply swiftly. "And I'm supposed to trust your judgement? Was the guy last night not using you?" Mark's hand slipped on the hammer, causing it to bang loudly in the toolbox. Their eyes met and Jack smugly asked him. "That's right. I'm onto your little secret. Is that why you really don't want to see the bakery go? Are you afraid the new owner will find out what you've been doing out back?" Mark's startled look quickly faded, before he gathered up his things and dismissively replied. "I don't know what you're talking about." Getting to his feet, Mark started to walk away.
Upset that Mark dismissed his words so easily, Jack hopped the fence and walked after him, blurting out. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! Hey!" Jack grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop. Mark stopped, then dropped his toolbox to shove Jack into the windmill. Jack fell back onto the bags of grain, then looked up as Mark stood menacingly in the only doorway in and out of the mill. Swallowing, Jack told him nervously. "You lay a hand on me, and I'll tell everyone you fuck boys." Mark closed the door as he stepped in, then slowly walked up to Jack. Jack pressed himself back into the firm bags of grain. He was terrified to look away from him. Crouching to be at his eye level, Mark casually whispered to him. "You don't want to do that." Jack shrugged, anxiously asking. "Why not...? You think no one will believe me? I've heard what they do to guys like you. The Devil's Whores. I don't believe the nonsense about people like you selling your souls for the ability to summon werewolves like the stories say... but what you are... it's just as unnatural as the werewolves that plague us." To Jack's surprise, Mark smirked. Shaking his head, Mark whispered to him nicely. "Who I find attractive has nothing to do with the werewolves. Although, Geralf and his huntsmen would have you think otherwise. But that's not why you shouldn't tell..."
Jack looked Mark over, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't see anything on him that could be used as a weapon. Mark placed his hands on the bags of grain by Jack's ribs, leaning closer to him. Jack instinctively laid back to avoid him, only finding himself more pinned down by him. Staring up into his beautiful brown eyes, Jack scolded himself. Mark was close enough to him that it made him weak in the knees. Mark had never been so close to him. Just the warm inviting smell of him was making his heart leap around in his chest. Mark smirked down at him through his long dark bangs, before whispering so deep and beautifully to him. "How long were you watching us?" Jack licked his dry lips, unable to make even a tiny sound. He wasn't even sure that he was breathing. Mark leaned closer, whispering with a wicked grin. "Curiosity killed the cat, Jack... Didn't your Granny ever tell you that?" Jack parted his lips to say something, then whimpered as Mark's lips lowered to touch his. Jack's whole body tensed beneath Mark and yet Mark was so calm about it. Mark's teeth lightly grazed his lower lip when he pulled back from the gentle kiss. It teased Jack's heart to have a kiss that was so fleeting and yet so powerful. He never imagined how breathless and weak his first kiss would leave his body in.
Mark calmly stared down at him, before telling him in a deep butter voice that was dripping with a smug confidence. "You won't be able to tell people, Jack... because they'll ask you for details... and I doubt a virgin like you can without getting hard." Jack sat up a little, starting to say bitterly. "You son of a-!" Mark cut him off by just coolly interjecting with a charming smile that made Jack swallow the rest of his words before he could get them out. "It's true, isn't it? I've never seen you with anyone... but I've seen you staring at me." Jack felt his face pale. Mark had noticed that? Mark's smile faded, when he whispered to him in a calm and almost loving tone. "Don't tell them about me... and I won't tell them about you." Jack blushed a deep red, mumbling out unconvincingly. "I'm not... You have no proof." Mark's eyebrow raised just a little, before he looked down. Instinctively, Jack crossed his legs and pulled his cloak over his waist to hide that he was hard. Avoiding his eyes, Jack mumbled out. "That doesn't prove anything..." Mark brought his lips closer to his ear to whisper lightly. "It does for guys like US."
Mark moved back, straightening himself up. Walking to the door, Mark opened it and added out to him in a warm voice. "Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth. Be careful, Jack. Wolves take on many disguises. If you're not careful. You'll be counted among them... and killed." Without another word, Mark slipped out, leaving Jack a flushed mess amongst the bags of grain. To Be Continued...