Capital Punishment

02 FUR FACTOR

CHRISTINE WARREN

Chapter One

  Abstinence wouldn’t be quite so bad, Graham decided, if not for the lack of sex.
  Nursing his fifth scotch and wishing it were a fifth of scotch, the Alpha of the Silverback Clan of New York City spent his Saturday night in a manner no self-respecting werewolf should ever have to endure—single and celibate.
  At least he didn’t have to spend it alone, he reflected, although the type of companionship he could expect to find at his friends’ post-wedding engagement party left a lot to be desired. A bit long in the tooth for his taste. Graham preferred women who hadn’t been painting the town red back when his ancestors still thought of the cotton gin as a newfangled contraption. Plus, seeing that he’d just broken off his on-again-off-again relationship with one particular vampire, he didn’t feel any great compulsion to go start a new one. Immortal women all seemed to be just a little too demanding.
  Why he bothered to sulk here in the corner, rather than excusing himself and getting out there to meet the Lupine woman of his dreams, remained a mystery. He couldn’t blame a fear of commitment like so many human men seemed to do. Werewolves relished the idea of a mate-bond and lived to beget lots of new generations of baby Lupines, and even Graham looked forward to the day when he would rear his own cubs in the traditions of his clan and his ancestors. Commitment sounded just fine to him. It wasn’t fear that had him in this mood; it was boredom.
  Graham suffered from a huge, honking case of the sameold-sameolds. Everywhere he looked, he saw the same faces, the same habits, heard the same gossip and fucked the same women. Oh, their names and hair color might change, but deep down, they were all the same to him. The realization depressed him. What had happened to the carefree, rakish wolf he used to be? These days he acted more like a priest than a playboy.
  He blamed the women, of course. What other reason...