Free Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love by Camille Anthony Page A

“I’ll watch over her for you, sir.”
    Hunter left the man drooling over his pride and joy and made his way over to command central. Before he’d reached the men huddled together in the midst of confusion, a tall black man turned and met Hunter’s gaze across the bowed heads of his cronies.
    Kevin Morrison’s face hardened, and his eyes glinted with an elusive expression Hunter had never been able to fathom. His old partner didn’t look too glad to see him. Well, Hunter decided, Kevin was happier seeing him than he had been dealing with whatever bogey had scared him enough to call Hunter in on the problematic situation.
    “Hunter, glad you could drag yourself away from whatever you were doing to finally join us.”
    Hunter bit back a growl, thinking about just whom he’d dragged his reluctant bod away from. It took all his control not to turn around, get on his bike, and high-tail his still semi-hard cock back to Melody’s welcoming heat. “No problem, Kev, my man” He smirked, knowing how much the commissioner hated the shortened version of his name. “I never have anything better to do than snatch your bacon out of the fire.”
    A few of the men surrounding the police commissioner laughed outright. The others, more cautious or more dependent on the commissioner’s good graces, hid their guffaws behind fake coughs and raised fists.
    Hunter nodded, acknowledging the group of city officials and street warriors before turning back to Kevin. “So, Commissioner, what do we have, besides a media circus?”
    Face as pasty as a black man’s complexion could go, Morrison handed Hunter a pair of high-tech binoculars. “We don’t know ... but we can’t send any more of our people in there.
    That thing keeps tossing them back to us in pieces.”
    Hunter took the glasses, pushed his shades to the top of his head, and peered into the telescopic lenses. His lips grew tight as he worked the focus, bringing the scene into horrific clarity.
    Just at the base of the south tower, a hulking ... creature ... stood alone, surrounded by a wide circle of destruction. An area of over fifteen feet in diameter -- its edges defined by the piled up wreckage of cars, trucks, and SUVs, with rescue workers cautiously scrambling over and into the upended, discarded detritus -- lay between the tall, shaggy being and any other living thing.
    The thing was gigantic and stood at least a foot taller than Hunter’s six-foot-five inches in skin form. Fungus-green hair covered its burly muscular frame, and long matted tangles of hair sprang from its head in every direction. Thick legs held it upright as its neck swept left and right, turning its shaggy, misshapen head constantly, keeping its tormentors in view.

    40 Camille Anthony
    Hunter lowered the field glasses and pursed his lips. Finished with them, he passed the binoculars back to Kevin. “I’ll be damned. I haven’t seen a troll in ... well ...” He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, gripped a handful and tugged. “Fact is, I’ve never seen a troll -- until now. I’ve heard about them, though.”
    “But you know how to deal with one, right?” the commissioner asked. His voice came out strained and hushed, as if he feared the thing could hear his words from where it stood yards away in that circle of death and free-form motor sculpture.
    Hunter readjusted his sunglasses. “Nope.”
    “My god, Hunter, what are you saying?” Kevin’s voice rose with his agitation. “My men have shot this thing, gassed it and shocked it, all to no effect. We’ve had to close the bridge to cars both ways, and now traffic is piled up so far back, it’ll take a day and night to clear.
    Please don’t tell me you can’t handle this situation because frankly, I can’t afford to hear anything like that.”
    Hunter kept his eyes trained on the hairy creature that had begun to rock back and forth, keening in a voice so high-pitched, it hurt his ears. “I didn’t say I couldn’t handle