Their first full moon together is fourteen days after the night they'd met. It makes sense, when Mitchell thinks about it -- Seth might be an idiot for the most part, but everyone knows that the safest time to kill a werewolf is during the lull between two changes, after everything from their previous transformation has washed away but before their body starts preparing for the next one.
Everyone also knows that lycos need to be killed. Mitchell's even killed one himself before, but Seth and the others... that hadn't been a simple execution of a dangerous enemy. They'd been beating the poor creature to death and Mitchell had lost his taste for inelegant, messy kills within years of being recruited.
But instead of killing the lyco and putting him out of his misery, Mitchell is helping him find a safe place to transform. He's been using the forest, he'd told Mitchell -- babbled really -- and they aren't going to find anywhere better any time soon, Mitchell figures. The lyco had panicked at the slightest suggestion that he find someplace indoors to change, so Mitchell needs to convince him of the stupidity inherent in just dismissing that idea before they can find somewhere else.
Christ, and here he is, thinking about this like it's going to be a regular thing. He's found the lyco that bed at the hostel and he's not planning on abandoning the man while he's still behaving like raw soldier bringing up his breakfast at his first sight of blood, but this can't be permanent. Eventually, he's going to need to let the lyco go his own way. Seth's already beginning to get suspicious at the way Mitchell keeps ducking him.
"Hold this," the werewolf mumbles, shoving a metal necklace into Mitchell's hands. Mitchell glances down and... catches an unneeded breath. The lyco has kept talking, not like anything could stop him, and there's a symbol of faith in Mitchell's hands, handed to him by a true believer, and it doesn't hurt. The symbol still chimes in his head, like they always do when the faith of the owner is strong, but the only time before when that hasn't hurt is...
Caroline had had a cross. His first human lover. She'd prayed every night and even more often after they begun their short-lived relationship. The first night they'd made love, she'd forgotten to take it off and it had fallen down against his skin and it had stung him, but only for a moment before the slight pain faded to a hum.
Mitchell rubs his finger across the encircled six-pointed star and waits for the hurt that never comes.
"Because I just keep having to replace it," George says, his words slightly muffled as he yanks his shirt over his head. His skin gleams under what little light reaches them through the trees. "I never remember to take it off until the change is already here, so I end up losing it in the woods and the fourth time I had to buy a new one, I got such a glare, I can't even describe to you what it looked like. I could just tell that he was wondering what horrible things I was doing with them, because I don't... I don't participate in the community around here and he knew that, I'm sure of it. I could see it in his face."
"No, I'm... I'm happy to take care of it for you," Mitchell says, too startled to be anything but truthful. The morality of the time a vampire had lived doesn't last long into their death, but apart from once with Seth before he'd been smart enough to realize the truth of the man, he's always chosen women. George is... well, George is currently handing Mitchell his specs with no more care than he'd taken with the Star of David. Mitchell pockets them and wonders when George is going to admit that he doesn't need to wear them the nights right before a change.
"You'd better get going," George says, waving his hands about like... no one that Mitchell can recall knowing. Mitchell narrows his eyes and marks down the gesture in his memory. George is incredibly expressive and if... if they're going to be spending more time together, he's going to need to know these things. "I can feel it coming. I don't want it to hurt you."
This... separation that George maintains between himself and the werewolf can't be healthy, but Mitchell is glad enough of the warning. He stumbles out of the woods, pauses for a moment when he hears George's first high-pitched scream behind him. When he realizes that he actually wants to go back, back to where there will soon be a mindless creature filled with enough power and hate to kill even a vampire, he begins to realizes that, perhaps, George isn't the only one unreasonably attached.
He escapes to the car, wincing each time George's cries rise up out of the forest.
He looks down at the Star of David, still clutched in his hand, and remembers Cassandra complaining about one of the porters quitting without giving any notice, leaving a hole in the schedule. George seems responsible enough for a job like that and if he's there, if he's around all the time, Mitchell can work out exactly what's going on between them.
He slips the chain into a pocket and starts the car up.
Whatever this means, whatever George wants from him...
A werewolf and a vampire. Just because something sounds impossible doesn't mean it won't work.