Chapter 27

Kirsten pulled Samantha and I aside after cleaning up the remains of the bacon and eggs, "I'm not sure she's really ready, but she's too shy to ask for herself so I promised to do it."

"Who's too shy to ask what?" asked Samantha.

Kirsten was obviously uncomfortable and struggled for words, "Look, the way she explained it, after watching Mike and Tiff make love once, she ... well she sort of asked Tiff if she could ride along while she made love to Mike again ... you know ... in her head."

"Really?" Samantha looked dubious, "Even with what she and Mike had just ... gone through?"

"Yeah, and that part was why she also asked Tiff not to tell Mike. Apparently, when she was watching them ... she had never seen a man and woman make love. All she had ever known was what she saw and went through in that hell-hole. She couldn't believe how gentle and beautiful it was. Her words, not mine. She was so amazed and intrigued by what she felt, second hand, through Tiff, that she wants to try it."

"But why us?" I asked, "If it was Mike who impressed her, and they had already..."

"Exactly. She doesn't want any lovey dovey shit, my words not hers, getting in the way of him doing what he has to do, when he needs to do it."

"Tiff was right," said Samantha, "That is one smart girl."

"Well, If I must, I must." I said with a grin, "A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

"Stop it, Jake, this isn't a joking matter."

If subservient little Kirsten was putting her foot down like that, it was serious, damned serious, at least to her ... ipso-facto it was serious to me. I sobered appropriately.

"We have to be careful. She's really vulnerable. I know she's come a long way, she trusts us, pretty much unconditionally. If this goes wrong, in any way, she could lose the progress she's made so far. Worse, it could hurt her in one of the only ways she hasn't been hurt in her life. So we have to treat her with kid gloves."

"When does she want to do it?" Samantha asked.

"She was talking about tonight, but ... I don't know."

Samantha put her arm around her dainty friend, snuggling close. "You don't know if she thinks she's ready, or you don't think she's ready?"

"Me," sighed Kirsten, "alright? I admit I'm just not sure. Look, Jake, you know how I feel about you and what I have to say doesn't change that one bit, are you with me?"

"I think so."

"You can ... you know, in bed ... you can be ... a little ... intense."

"Intense?"

"I know what she means, sweetie, and it's not a bad thing. I like it ... we like it. You get this look in your eyes, like you could could just eat us up, literally."

"It's the look I always picture when I read those books about chicks who do it with vampires and werewolves ... not that ... I would read that sort of thing ... but you're the werewolves."

"Thanks?"

"Sam was right when she said we like it. When I see that look I know you're intently focused on me and it's because you think I'm so fucking sexy. That makes me feel fucking sexy, and it's one hell of a turn on."

"And I think Kirz is concerned it may frighten Lea. It is rather ... predatory."

"So you want me to dial it back. I can do that."

"Are you sure?" The little brown beauty didn't look convinced, "I know how hot you think she is."

Samantha backed away just enough to look her in the eye but she kept her hand on the back of her neck, "Kirsten, you know Jake, he's a horny idiot. But he's a kind, gentle and loving horny idiot. He'll be careful ... or I'll kick him in the balls."

I reached out, added my hand to Samantha's and with as much sincerity as I could muster, "She'll do it too."

Kirsten looked up at me, her sultry black almond eyes glistened with love and admiration. The soft luscious lips parted in a bright smile, "I know."

"And I don't think you'll let me too far off the leash, it sounds like you intend to be there."

"It'll be up to Lea. I want to be there, for a whole lot of reasons, and I don't think she'll mind. Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads up so you'll know that the next time I knock on your door, I won't be alone. It might be tonight, but I'm gonna try and get her to hold off a little longer."

"And I promise, I'll be careful. If it goes well at first, maybe she can hitch hike with you while I turn on some of that intensity."

I gave her a leering once over.

She reached up and placed her gentle fingers on my cheek, "That's not the look, Jake, that's just creepy."

"If you're not going to appreciate the effort, then we should just go and get the dogs."

We'd discussed the dogs during breakfast.

"It makes sense," Samantha had said regarding the dogs' sensitivity to psychic activity, "there are dogs that warn when someone is about to have a seizure. I bet they're aware of a hell of a lot more than we ever imagined."

Mike topped off his orange juice, nodding in agreement, "No doubt there, but we gotta figure how best to use it."

"Yeah," I added, "there's a few issues I can think of, right off the top."

Kirsten paused, the corner of her toast soaking in the egg yolk, "For it to be useful, we would have to be able to teach them to ignore any activity originating from Jake or Lea."

"There's that," I agreed, "but the biggest one I can see is that it's pretty much after the fact."

"What do you mean?" asked Tiffany, scooping up a fork full of hash browns.

"I mean, they didn't react until I connected to Mike. I know I've called up the sight with them around before and they never seemed to care."

She considered that while she chewed, then swallowed, "So by the time they've alerted somebody has already been forced into their shell. They seem to know where it's coming from, maybe we can train them to attack rather than just alert."

Samantha shook her head, "That takes us back to them figuring out the difference between the evil mind fuckers doing this sort of thing, and Jake or Lea."

"Yeah," I nodded, "and I vote for ensuring they can differentiate that before training them to attack. Their adorable poodles, but have you seen them go after that trainer in his suit? Sometimes they're so cute, you forget how big they really are."

After our talk with Kirsten, Samantha went to get the dogs while I got ready in the living room. Basically, I went in and sat down. But it let everyone else know that it was time. There was a chance, however slight, that a human being was going to communicate with a dog. Had one of them missed a single moment, they wouldn't have forgiven me.

By the time Samantha came in with the pups, everyone was present.

"Lady, Tramp, come."

They came to stand in front of me.

"Sit, Stay."

With their level of training, 'stay' was a nearly inviolate command.

I closed my eyes and called up the sight. I knew they were right there in front of me and I study the area closely looking for any trace of dog aura with which to connect.

Finding nothing, I sent out an aural tendril. It prodded the area of Tramp's head but I felt no indication of any connection, of any sort.

I opened my eyes, willing the tendril to continue it's search. It wasn't as easy as maintaining a connection with my eyes open, but with enough focus and will I could do it. Heck, I had manipulated auras long before I could see them. I just didn't know what I was manipulating. Now that I had seen it, doing it more precisely without seeing it wasn't that much of a reach.

I had wanted to gauge his reaction, see what he was doing and, more importantly, to see if he was in any distress.

He was looking at me with a cocked eyebrow.

Yes, the dog can cock an eyebrow.

It was as if to say, "What the fuck are you doing?"

He was so damned cute.

I reached out to scratch him behind the ears but as soon as I touched his head, it happened.

It wasn't through my aura at all.

It was something else. An energy, almost primal. I had never felt it before, but it was familiar.

I was getting impressions from Tramp's mind. It certainly wasn't thinking, like you or I would recognized. But impressions. My mind took these impressions in and fed them back to me in whatever way would make them understandable to me.

I closed my eyes again, to better concentrate.

There was a remarkable memory but also ... well ... I wouldn't really call them emotions ... dog emotions?

Simpler, more black and white. Any gray areas were narrow and well pronounced. Things fell into categories. Good, bad, wary, dangerous, prey, and dangerous prey, among others. There was one category that was different. It was beneath the others. A foundation for them. A category that was driven by ancient instinct. Pack.

And those memories. An amazing amount of memories. It only made sense. They were predators. Successful predators, for most part, are those that learn quickly and can adapt. To do that, they remember everything.

One of the most recent was last night, chasing two squirrels and a rabbit away from Human Family Kirsten's garden.

I'm pretty sure that's not exactly how he thought of her, but that's how my link told me I should interpret it.

Family was categorized as 'almost' Pack. I explored his concept of Pack. Pack was a deep seated instinct. The Pack was equated with survival. Survival as individuals, and survival of the species. It was this socialization that turned canines into such successful predators, able to survive by working together to not just provide food, but to defend one another, to defend the pack. Nothing was more important than protection of the Pack, yet without the individual members there was no Pack. Tramp would not hesitate to throw himself against impossible odds to protect the pack. Technically it wasn't courage or suicide as 'fear' didn't exist in any form you or I would recognize, and he would have every intention of winning, and make every effort to survive. The Pack depended on it.

Kirsten was 'almost' pack. Close enough that since the garden was important to her, it was worth protecting, though he probably would have chased the prey anyway. He didn't catch them and I had the distinct impression that was contrived. He seemed to understand that prey he didn't kill would come back, and he could chase it again. He wasn't hungry, so they would narrowly escape.

I looked closer at this, 'Family' though that wasn't really a concept he knew. There was no abstract thinking. 'Family' was simply 'almost' pack.

Curious, I tried something. It took a while. Eventually I figured out how to get rid of the 'almost.'

That made all of us Pack. I hoped that would let them look past our mental connections with the others.

I looked for the memory of that moment, when they alerted on me.

That ... feeling ... he'd had was still in the 'wary' category. He simply did not know what it was, only that it affected two members of his erstwhile 'almost' Pack.

I tried to help him understand it. I searched his other memories for concepts that I could ... more or less ... refer to.

He came to understand that sensation as a form of tooth or claw, and those who bore those teeth and claws were to be considered dangerous prey. Unless they were pack. He knew tooth and claw, they were what made one a formidable adversary, or a powerful ally.

I heard Tiffany off in the distance.

"He's taking this awfully well, don't you think? That's such a good boy."

Suddenly my fingers, that were buried in Tramp' soft gray curls, were brushed by other fingers.

There was another consciousness with us, sharing what we shared, and more. The sudden addition of another consciousness somehow opened a conduit of awareness between the three of us.

I pulled back and Tramp's consciousness left me as well as the other. I had pulled away before I had identified the other consciousness. But I knew who it was.

I opened my eyes and sure enough, there was Tiffany, staring at me. Her eyes almost as wide as her mouth. The sort of look that says, "What the fuck was that?" and doesn't know whether or not to be scared of what just happened. I suppose it was definitely in the 'wary' category.

"What the fuck was that?" she finally gasped.

I thought so.

But I still didn't have an answer. My mind raced.

I wanted to establish a link with Tiffany to see how, if at all, her mind had just been affected.

But, since that required making a connection in the presence of Lady, she had to first be conditioned in the same way as Tramp, as long as Tiffany was alright.

"Tiff? Are you okay?" I said, carefully.

She was still staring at me and hadn't bothered to close her mouth.

She shuddered and blinked. "I ... I think so. Unless the Surgeon General has determined that massive amounts of confusion can be hazardous to one's health ... In that case I'm in big trouble."

She was fine.

"I don't know what that was and I want to make sure you're okay, but first I have to do to Lady what I just did to Tramp."

Without waiting for a response, I willed myself towards Lady and then put my hand on her head.

It was much the same as with Tramp. There were certain defensive instincts tied to the Pack there were subtly different. I made the adjustments and pulled out.

"Tiff, I'm going to make a connection with you, I want to see if anything was done to you."

"Okay. Jesus, that was amazing."

I opened my eyes after making the connection and though the dogs seemed aware, they weren't showing any signs they didn't like what was happening. Tiffany seemed fine. Nothing appeared to have changed. But something had. I couldn't put my finger on it but there was a difference in my perceptions of her.

I knew her.

Yeah, sure, I've known her a long time, even if you include the biblical sense. But this was a different 'knowing' that was new. I didn't have the energy to examine it at the moment.

I was tired. Channeling that odd energy was far more taxing than using the auras.

"Would someone please take the dogs out and throw the balls for a while? I'd do it but I think they want to run more than five feet."

Mike got up and headed for the door with Kirsten on his heels.

"Lady, Tramp, come, get your ball."

The dogs were off like a shot.

I had seen memories of that and knew it was their favorite 'game.'