Prologue

The mech virus was created when research into synthetic life and nanotechnology was rampant, uncontrolled and diverse. A small number of people were infected with a six base synthetic DNA virus with dramatic effects. Such DNA could never arise independently in nature, however—thanks to meddling scientists—it did and, like any life creating molecule, it soon found a niche. Our own biological history is littered with unlikely partnerships between virii, bacteria and other organisms—every cell in your body hosts symbiotes that now are necessary to create energy for life itself.

The nanotech mech virus builds to a critical mass inside the infected individual and when it does, it gains a sapience that drives its host to find a suitable form that the emerging consciousness can use, a form that can be any vehicle.

Why a vehicle? Because like other symbiotes and parasites it is driven to survive and propagate—and using the host's mind, it knows that vehicles give it the greatest range and versatility.

Were-mechs are extremely rare as the synthetic virus cannot infect most people enough to cause these changes. Its origins are not as secret as they should be—it was a misguided military experiment that got out of hand and had the unexpected side effect of producing a second consciousness in infected subjects though, perhaps this was not the most dramatic of the side effects.

The result: Shapeshifters, beloved of many werewolf tales, only these shifters were anything but wolves.

Chapter 1

The first week with the other me was chaotic and uncontrollable: robotic segmented limbs, shell like steel shields and metallic vanes, probes and all manner of oddities emerged in many places they really should not—spine and shoulder, chest, arms, lower and upper legs and yet no pain, no pain at all. But these changes always reversed.

As the first week progressed however, another voice, a presence in my mind grew.

My infection came about because of a red corvette with a never ending nose, shining sleek scarlet body and ravishing rumbler of a deep throated engine: I’m a sucker for cars with great long noses, and she was no exception. She was hanging about at a second hand dealership, but not for sale.

I was doing all the usual stuff that pretend buyers do when they can’t afford the car they are perving over: running my hand over her panels, fake expertly examining the paintwork and tapping the tyres with my shoe tip as if that ever revealed anything useful about the condition of said tyres or car. I was looking in her engine then closing the hood when I felt two nips—one in the hand as I lowered her bonnet and one in the ankle. I never saw what caused either one but blood was drawn. The Corvette then started up, no driver at the wheel, and leaving behind the rich sharp smell of smoking rubber, she peeled off with a squeal.

It took a week for the symptoms of the nips to appear and they started with fever and pain, bone deep pain that throbbed and vibrated, keeping me up night after night, no pain killer I bought would touch it. On the second day the pain was less but patches of skin grew shiny and hard, then melted back to skin again.

I wanted to go to the hospital but something inside made me stay indoors and tell no one.

It was the voice that scared me more than anything, it spoke incessant nonsensical syllables, words, phrases—believe me, I’ve tried most of the more benign illegal drugs: this was different. I couldn’t distract the voice, it was a monologue, repeating itself without meaning, though I could feel old memories being turned and chewed over and perhaps even processed.

Eventually I heard sentences and a name so I tried to speak back whilst looking in a mirror, but the flow of words didn’t change.

A few days later the voice went quiet, instead I’d pass out then wake up, immobile with limbs of half melted steel. I tried to be scared but couldn’t quite get there, the surreality of the situation overwhelming any fear; then I’d pass out again and wake as if nothing had happened.

The shifting of limbs became normal, mostly painless—every time it happened the same lassitude would take over, and I’d find myself observing in a detached way, not scared of the scary thing my body was doing.

If I was looking in a mirror at the time of the shift, I would see my cheeks turn silver and shift, my ears change shape—different each time; from my shoulders would come great wings of molten metal, spines of steel, my chest and body ribbed with yet more steel; encaged but from within. Yet, should I move whilst watching this process, movement became easy, natural and unlike the first paralysis I experienced.

The voice was silent now, but my changes became deeper, more erratic yet mysteriously, I always came back to what I still feel is my true self—though that is getting ever more in question as time goes on.

The voice coalesced into coherence, a voice I could get conversation from. It named itself and used my memories to make itself understood: His name is Rakza.

Rakza was able to nudge me after the sixth day and make me fully aware of his consciousness through the nanomyecelia interwoven through my own brain. The nonsense words I’d heard has been his own learning algorithms doing their job, the same was true for much of the shifting I’d experienced. The pain was my immune system dealing with the invasive synthetic virus and the nanomyecelia it generated throughout many cells. My own DNA is altered now, the section dealing with immunity ignores the invader: it is me and I am it now.

So, the nudging.

Chapter 2

There were good bits after the first weeks of argument, pain, physical and mental hell.

Rakza wanted to go and hunt something down. He tried to explain why then said it would be better to show me. I was being unusually dense that morning, the shifting processes had gone on all night and that week alone and I slept but little as a result.

Zombie like, I wondered where he nudged me: first, take out coffee; then, car show rooms—several in a row and never quite satisfied with what he saw, he urged me on without explanation. What did I need new wheels for? Hell, I’d got little cash for cars anyhow.

However, the third place we walked into, my pulse quickened as Rakza grew excited. In the window, rested a wicked matt black car—a rare and expensive car. I went into the showroom, Rakza’s urging overriding my own self consciousness at my less than affluent attire.

There was no one about, I was alone with soft music and exotic cars with the road sounds outside muffled to silence, my footsteps likewise. I padded over to the window where the matt black dream car sat turning slowly on its display turntable. Shadows played over its dark skin, its angular lines forbidding and exciting, narrow wedge shaped eyes arrowed aggressively at would be admirers.

What is it we want with this car I asked Rakza. There was no reply, just an urgent desire to lay my hands on the vehicle in front, as if blessing the car. I did so, thunderbolts and lightning rippled through me as my skin touched the Fenyr and I went away for a while, into the black.

I woke to find myself shifting and changing again: angled steel, matt black sheets and other things grew painlessly from my own flesh, deep lassitude detaching me from a phenomena that should have me howling. It didn’t.

Instead, I could feel myself growing larger, my sense of body changing to something completely alien, something my own brain was never designed to be. I tried to move a limb but could not, yet I could feel it when Rakza flexed a limb—a wheel turned. A wheel...a wheel where my mind said an arm should be. What?

The lassitude wore off, the panic set in, and for a moment my emotions overrode even Rakza’s calm control. We didn’t move quickly—I didn’t know how to—but I drove us through the glass of the showroom window, it shattered in a great spray of glittering splinters, showering us with sharp edges.

I could hear his voice again, telling me to stop it, calm down. I tried but I was having trouble aligning my brain to the idea of becoming a one point five tonne sports car. Where did the mass come from? How was this even possible?

Rakza took us away from the showroom at high speed, leaving me to cope with the disturbing sensation of being a high performance sports car yet not in control; instead, I could feel his impulses and reflexes at work, as if they were my own: working the engine to accelerate harshly; flexing and twisting the suspension and wheels to corner and turn tighter and tighter.

Imagine having two minds, two layered selves—a body within a body—layers of muscles inside your muscles that you never knew existed that the other you, inside of you, could flex and use.

After the panic, the dislocation and fear, came the joy, my god the joy.

Becoming near unhinged—I lost myself as Rakza poured on the speed, I could feel the engine changing and shifting to accommodate his demands; we shot around corners, gripping never skidding, the rubber on the tyres shifting to his command and there was me, intimate with every tiny sensation, every feeling coming from this car: wind that pushed down on me, the noise and smell of the road, the fire storm of pleasure and power—the engine—it was my heart, hell it was my soul; the faster we went, the deeper power flowed, the stronger my oneness with the car, being the car—my spirit wrapped in steel and fire.

As the road blurred beneath me, as the roadsides blurred beside me, I discovered great versatility in where I could gaze and focus: this car had eyes everywhere.

We left cop cars behind more than once, nothing could catch us, if they even saw us. I stopped trying to control anything, totally entranced by the feeling of Rakza racing us through the countryside. Eventually we pulled up outside an abandoned looking garage; I could see myself in the dirty shop window. Yep, there was that aggressive nose, jesus, we were the Fenyr Supersport, the one from the showroom. I would never own one but I think I went one better: I was one.

"So, can we talk sensibly now." He said, his voice echoing inside my mind.

"Is sensible talk even possible? I mean, man becomes car, is not sensible right?" I replied, not knowing what to say to this inner yet not imaginary voice.

"Oh there is, you just might take some time to adapt. Right now, think of werewolves; tales of men becoming beasts on the night of a full moon litter your literature. Think of me in this way, except I’m not mad and don’t need a full moon." He replied.

"So, wait, how does all of you fit into me then?" This truly puzzled me: I weigh two hundred pounds, we now must weigh two thousand or more.

"That’s more complicated but if you have ever studied some physics, you’ll have heard of higher dimensions right?"

He knew I knew, he’s in my head. I did know a little, though no expert.

"That’s where most of the mass is, folded out into higher dimensions, does that help?" He said

"I think so. So, ok, next thing, how? Why?" I said

"Ah I only know what your mind knows and what I’ve been able to compute since I became aware." He said

"So not all knowing then?"

"Nope, sorry, I’m younger than you. I know enough to get this far but I’m going to guess that my werewolf idea is the best concept for now. Do you remember a red Corvette C8?" He said

"Yes actually I do, that was a hard car to forget."

"We need to find her because my guess is she will know more; I think she bit you, I can see it in your memories." He said.

"Oh yes, that makes sense, as well as being a were-car can make any sense whatsoever." I said.

"Right, let’s go then."

"Where?"

"Home, you have a life to continue with right?"

I said nothing, thinking—I was unemployed though meant to be job hunting. Gravel crunched as we backed up and shifted off the forecourt and raced away home.

We pulled up round the back of the flats I lived in, it was raining and dark by now.

"I’m going to let go now, you have to will yourself back into form." He said "You’ll figure it out"

He shifted in my mind and his presence fading a little. I concentrated, trying to understand what to do though it was easier than I expected, as if my normal sense of self merely had been held back by his. The steel and glass shivered, shimmered then folded away in impossible directions, my sense of sight narrowed down until it was back to just two eyes. And me naked, shivering in the rain.

"Great, um now what?"

"Ah, we forgot that, your keys are still at the showroom!"

"Shit, we gotta go back there … and I’m freezing!" I yelled aloud in the rain.

The shift happened faster this time, Rakza almost brutally wresting control. The cold disappeared along with my nakedness, instead I was aware of the rain on Rakza’s skin—a pleasant rather than cold sensation.

"Then we go back and hope we can find your stuff." He said

"It’s your fault I lost my stuff!" I sulked a little.

"Actually, it was both of us; though, if you hadn’t panicked we wouldn’t have shattered the window at the showroom." He was too reasonable—why?

"Let’s go then." I gave in, I just wanted to get my stuff.

Chapter 2

A slower drive to the showroom gave me time to appreciate the change in more detail though my vision was still confusing: I see all around me at once but my attention was limited to what my mind was used to; fine details only appeared where I paid attention. Rakza assured me that this is not true for him: I hoped so given the speeds we hit yesterday.

Phantom muscle contractions pulsed in a rhythm, as wheels and pistons turned as if they were my muscles. The hard body felt quite different, not a lifeless shell but full of vivid pleasurable sensation: just feeling the wind over my skin sent tingles throughout my body.

The strangest sensation was the road against my tyres; I never knew a car would feel less of the surface than a human foot might. I could sense something no foot can—a feeling of directional torque, like feeling the future for a moment—will I stick or will I slide. So far, I never slide; reflexively the tyre alters slightly to grip harder.

We pull near to the showroom—the frontage where we created our exit is board up now, gates closed, no easy way in. However, Rakza pulls out another surprise.: muscles flex at the tip of my shoulders, from under my wheel arches segmented arms unfold, triple fingers on each. He grips onto the large padlock on the gate and squeezes hard; a snap, crunch and clank of metal follow. In the road, a mangled padlock, squeezed like plastocene lay on the tarmac.

"Ok, that’s handy." I said

"That’s terrible"

"Best I could come up with."

The squeal of gates being pulled open was his answer as we rolled into the showroom grounds. We approached the boarded up section, Rakza pulled the board carefully trying not to break it, until it was hanging loose.

"Get in there and find your keys"

The shift was less disorientating this time, was I getting used to this? Still naked, wet and shivering, I made my way to the loose board and pulled at it. It moved but not easily—I scraped through and found the original Fenyr with my knee. "OWW!"

Rakza laughed, "Revenge?"

"Unless it’s like you, I don’t think so!" I replied, still hopping about.

"When you’ve finished..."

"OOOOW! Fuckk!" I found my keys by hopping on them.

"Fuck, that hurt but hey hang on, how come they didn’t find them?" I realised something was amiss—why were my keys still here? Shredded cloth nearby, my clothes.

"Rakza, why is my stuff still here?"

"I’m not sure, maybe they didn’t report it?"

"Uh oh, I don’t believe that, let’s get out, quick!, change already." I said, it was a trap.

Lights went on glaring into our eyes just as Rakza shifted us and we charged away wheels spinning, one arm snapping my keys off the floor, another finding my wallet, we smashed out the boarded window once again. A roar from behind, we had company!

A red corvette no less, having no trouble keeping up.

"Rakza, that’s HER!" Mentally yelling

"Why is she chasing then?"

"I don’t know but maybe we should talk to her?" I said wanting to get answers.

He poured on the speed, still fired up from the trap, the deep roar of the Corvette faded a little.

"I don’t trust someone who tries to trap me." He said, unwilling to stop.

"Look lead her to that garage we found earlier, perhaps we can talk and get away if we must?" I said.

The roar came back, deep throaty and demanding: her long nose was much closer this time.

Much closer in fact.

Her nose was inches from our tail, so close she must smell our exhaust. Rakza slowed slightly, her nose bumped into us but didn’t make us wobble. She was slowly overtaking us but her bumper was riding into ours, no damage was occurring, no crunching noises and a warmth spread through Rakza.

"Uh Rakza, do were-cars feel other human feelings?" I said.

"Can’t talk right now, sorry, you’re just along for the ride this time." He said, sounding breathless.

I shut up and let him drive, powerless to do much else this time.

She was ahead of us now, leading us, her exhaust in my face, her pipes gleaming in the moonlight. Wait, what am I saying? I was finding it difficult to separate mine and Rakza’s thoughts now, the longer we drove. She was enticing, to Rakza, that was the problem.

"Rakza, I know you’ve known me for a few days, but you’ve not known her and you’re lusting after her? How is that even possible?" I said, intrigued and slightly horrified by the obvious implications.

"Just, stop talking...please." He said.

We turned off into a huge abandoned shopping mall, weeks away from demolition according to the keep out sign that we ran through, along with the gates. Acres of tarmac lay free.

She chased ahead, turned hard and drifted, smoking wheels raising burnt rubber stink in the air; Rakza drove into her smoke and something changed again inside him. I felt passion, the red raw passion burning in his mind infecting and affecting me too.

She fishtailed, hard, left then right, left then right, ass wiggling, glinting, shimmering in the pale light of the moon; he zeroed in on her pipes this time, aiming at them as he raced at her; but laughter in the air, she pulled away from him. Then flipped herself up off the ground, her own segmented arms thrusting her two ton frame backwards into the night sky, spinning end over end once, twice then landing behind him.

Nudging us hard, Rakza began to fishtail, more out of control than she was to start with but then managed to catch something under her and pull her round hard, spinning all of us round in a right dance until we stopped. Staring at each other, Corvette eyes burning into Fenyr eyes.

A female voice, warm, honeyed ran through my mind—and I guess his "So are we going to do this, or are are going to just stare at me all night"

"Who are you lady?" Rakza gasped out, still confused by the game.

"Do you need to know right now, come get me wussy car." She said

"Rakza, I don’t think she wants talk from you." I said. "How does that even work?"

"What do you want lady." He said to her

Mentally, I face palmed, even I could see it and I never had a girlfriend!

Laughter wobbled her frame, "Oh dear you are new aren’t you?"

"You should know!" He replied

"Oh trust me I do, but here’s the deal: fuck now, talk later or we part ways. Can I be plainer than that?" She said, impatient clear in the set of her stance now.

"Rakza, do you even know how? How does a car do that?" I asked him.

"I think it’s one of those instinctual things." He replied, then to her "Listen lady, you’re right, I’m new, so why don’t you help a guy out here?"

"Just follow me, keep up with my dance, catch me, hold me if you can, you’ll know what to do." She said, wheels spinning loudly now "Tally ho!" Off she darted, fishtailing and smoking her way across the lot again.

"Here goes." He said

“Just along for the ride.'' he said, in more ways than one I think.

Chapter 3 - Mating

Rakza revved his engine hard, sending tremors throughout my own mind, I realised something was going to happen here that would probably tie me to Rakza even more closely. Would I ever be a simple man again? Even now, I could smell her, the Corvette and I wanted her.

Badly.

Single of mind, Rakza and I spun our wheels, smoking so hard that fire flashed from the ground—we shot off after her, hitting one hundred and fifty miles an hour in an instant, her ass growing quickly in our shared vision. The moonlight showed her to us clear as day, lithe curves, muscled lines dancing enticing in the night; trying to escape but not really. Some things never change, and the screaming tyres, the roaring engines, another mating dance, described in tonnes of steel, glass and fire.

She reached out, grabbed a post, pulled herself round hard tearing it out the ground as she did so, doubling back heading at us—our combined speed of nearly three hundred miles an hour testing our resolve. Who would back out first? Rakza or her? What does the winner get?

Mechanical arms reached to each other, neither car backing down, instead they span round each other, not letting go, dancing spinning wildly, tyres insanely loud in the empty night sky. Rakza pulled at her, their spinning grew faster and faster, their engines revving harder and harder, both cars taking deep pleasure in the forces they were generating.

I could feel my own mind sinking in Rakza, feeling that he was I and I was he as the dark world span ever faster round us, two tonnes of feisty Corvette held tight at the end of our arms and she holding us just as tightly. There was no battle now, just two beings that I thought couldn’t possibly need to mate, but did.

The lines between Rakza and I blur too much, I can’t find myself and he can’t himself, it’s just me now. I’m holding her, whoever she is and her smell is intense, her heat nearly intolerable. Since I was born, I’ve never experienced such a burning need.

Finally our spinning slowed, we pulled into each other, and I reached out and stroked her nose with one mech hand—sensitive steel webs tracking every perfect line of her bonnet. She thrummed under my hand and reached out to me, stroking at my wheel arches, teasing underneath, making my body tingle.

I bumped my nose into hers, feeling electricity flowing between us, smelling her engine, her scent driving me wild, making my own engine rumble in response.

This is how we stayed for a while, stroking, exploring, touching and finding places on each other that we liked. Her places were her long bonnet, her arches and mine? I didn’t know my side vents felt like that and ass? Jeez—that’s where my engine is and boy, mmmm..

We spent hours just playing like this, stroking and caressing, yet we barely spoke, except when she whispered more, here or harder there, directing my attentions.

Her pipes, four of them, were unusual—like jet engine exhausts, they were segmented and, now, were flexing open and closed, in an erotic, hypnotic way.

They flexed more as I watched the two central ones opened much wider than the outer ones. I touch each, slowly, carefully, watching her response. The outer ones made her shudder, but the inner ones made her gasp and buck. Just by touching.

I finger her slowly, my flexible steel fingers fit easily inside of her smooth, slightly moist silver entrance. More flexible folds greet my questing fingers, burning hot exhaust flames out in response. I take my time exploring her innermost places, noting carefully what makes her buck the hardest. End of PT2

A hand in both central pipes worked best, thrusting in sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes together, sometimes one after the other. Time slowed as I worked my way through her repertoire of orgasmic music, her chorus being screams of redlined fury, her melody being the screeching of burning tyres as her pleasure caused her to lose control.

Her intense scent was driving me crazy now, her bucking and pulled at my hands was making me need her now. Something unlatched— a new heaviness between my rear wheels. Deep burning heat flared across my rear axle and ran through my frame; I pulled my hands out of her pipes and used them to grab onto her front wheels. I lifted hard and, using my rear arms, supported myself upon her body.

Now I know what Rakza said about instinct taking over. I saw what to do—in the midst of my own heat, I saw underneath and between us both. The weight I could feel were twin golden phalli, bigger than any horse I saw but much prettier—engraved and ribbed, a little bulbous and aimed for the Corvette’s twin pipes.

I thrust hard, they barely fitted, stretched her segmented exhausts wide open as I tried to ram all the way into her, feeling flexible steel membranes gripping and resisting my push. But my ramming was insistent, stronger than her resistance; I fucked right into her—she screamed even louder and rammed back onto me, craving even more.

I gave it to her, deliberate, hard, slow and deep.

Pulled back, enjoying the feel of her tightness caressing each phallus, her many steel membranes springing back around the heads.

Thrust in once more, slower, even more deliberate, feeling for her need, wanting her to beg more now.

Wheels spinning, she thrust herself back, trying to thwart my frustrating plan but I was wise to that and held her rigid. She was getting fucked MY way.

I deliberately pulled on her body and rammed even slower as my cock heads swelled and knotted inside her, causing her redlining to become screaming stutters of near torture. I reached the limit and was well beyond her back box, deep inside her now, knotted into her thoroughly, causing extreme agony and pleasure all at once.

Pulling on her frame, my cocks wouldn’t pull out, not yet. She backfired from her other exhausts at this treatment, so I did it again and again, yanking on her, causing my engorged heads to pull hard on her insides.

Her arms flailed, her wheels wildly spinning, I could feel her contractions building and building, gripping me tightly, painfully. Oh good she’s close, getting very close.

Heat and pressure building, pain rising, I screamed too as my orgasm built I had to hold my spinning wheels off her body.

I humped and thrusted, unable to pull out now until she too was ready, a knot is a two way trap of agonising orgasmic pleasure and ours had just started.

Pressure built and built, her contractions came harder and faster now, pulling me deeper and deeper into her if that was even possible.

Lightning ran through each cock, as it did so, her contractions started a faster harder rhythm as if trying to pull something out of me, something that was dying to burst out of me.

Incredible noise, screaming, revving and roaring, pulsating rhythms of agony and joy ran through us both as I shot and shot, filling and engorging her; she took it, she milked it, she took everything I gave and I kept giving and giving; hot molten seed that flowed deep and fast into her frame, making her mine, owning her soul as I filled and filled her. She contracted ever harder, pulling me deeper, extracting every last ounce of seed from me as I pushed and she pulled, my knot finally expanded fully, plugging her hard and deep, locking her up tight for the rest of the night.

The following morning found us both, still locked tight together, our arms stroking each other, wheels and engines quietly rumbling in harmony.

"That’s what I was after Rakza." She mumbled quietly.

"Do you know, I’ve no idea of your name." I said

"Kalishera." She said "And I’ve looked for a mate for months now"

"Kalishera, so pretty. How long have you been, well, you?"

"A funny way to put it. If by me, as a Corvette, over a year, though I cannot recall how it occurred." She said "I’m sure it must have been the same as you, where I took the opportunity when I saw you."

"Why?"

"Smell, I think, told me your genetics are right—that’s my best guess." She said

"Explain the showroom then?"

"That’s easy, I own it and yes, I set you up: I’ve always wanted a Fenyr—now I got one." She laughed.

"Ok, so what’s the deal with this mating business? Don’t get me wrong, it’s blown my gasket but why can we even do that—especially as we came about from bites?" I was curious now.

"I felt a strong need to make this happen. And it feels good right?" She said

I’m still inside her, though I think I can pull out now, not that I’m convinced I want to.

"I’ve got a day job Rakza—come and see me at work. Bring clothes this time." She said, pulling forwards and off of my phalluses that duly retracted and pulled themselves away. Interesting instincts.

"One thing Rakza, you’ll soon learn that despite also being human, your life is different now. The most important stuff is here, as Rakza. I’d apologize but you’ll soon learn that you won’t mind that so much."

She left with a cheeky wheel spin, leaving a cloud of dust.

We drove back, in silence. I had some sense being human again whereas for the last eight hours, there was just Rakza. Was that always going to happen?

My memories were extremely vivid, every last detail of my mating with Corvette, fresh and sharp in my mind.

"Rakza, what happens next?"

"I’m guessing, but perhaps we go see her?" He said, "but right now, I think we gotta get back to your home, you’ve a life to continue."

Chapter 4

The following day I was tired, I could feel Rakza more than every, asleep somewhere deep inside. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got dressed and went to see Kalishera. She had explaining to do.

Taking the bus was a turgid, dull affair after the raucousness of Rakza but he stayed sleeping—a fact I was grateful for—the whole ride over to Kalishera’s showroom.

The shattered window was whole again, the place open for business when I got there. I could see her dark copper curls in the back office where she was working. I knocked her office door, having successfully navigated her showroom’s offerings without waking Rakza.

"Hi Kalishera." I said, a little nervous—do you say to the woman with whom you spent a night locked together like two four wheeled giant dogs?

The mass of curls shifted, emerald eyes met my own. "Hi, you’re earlier than I expected." She said.

"Can we talk?" I asked, relaxing a little now.

"Well sure, I need to be here though, none of my guys have arrived yet, so it’s just me this morning. What’s up?" A grin, she knew what was up. I had no clue how to start.

"Let me guess, you want to know if it was real even though you can feel Rakza inside you?" She said

"Well yes, but I wanted to know something else too."

"oh?"

"Why me?" I blurted out

"Convenience—you were there, you were touching me and I took a chance, that’s all." She said, "You need to understand one thing now, you and I will be friends, but it’s our were sides that are more than that. That’s just how it is."

"How does that work?" I tried to understand what she was driving at.

"Ok, look at me, right now, how attracted to me are you?" I looked at her figure, everything in the right place, topped by loose curls of copper framing green eyes, a face of elegant angles. Yet, her peculiar question led to a peculiar insight—my usually reliable libido was strangely absent.

"I can see it, you don’t need to say—it is the same for me. The were virus hijacks that facility." She said

Unsure of how I felt about this, I continued on "Ok, so why cars? I doubt I can get how but why?"

"That one, I can’t be sure, I think the virus was designed to work a certain way and find suitable forms. I know it was intentional, I can feel it in Kalishera’s mind." She said

"Just how much are you her?" I said

"I don’t do philosophy—we have no secrets between us, the same will be true of you and Rakza."

Pacing back and forth in her office, my eyes rested upon Rakza’s chosen surrogate, the Lyken. "How did Rakza choose something as exotic as that Fenyr?"

"The were mind relies a lot on his or her host—if you were strongly drawn to something more ordinary, that’s what would you would be. I suspect you haven’t been out for weeks since I infected you previously." She said smiling. "I’m glad you didn’t—weres are extremely rare and I’d have hated being mated to a people carrier!"

"So, dumb luck?" I asked, disbelieving her.

"Not quite, managed luck." She said "I bought this place years ago after being infected, listening to Kalishera. She knew what she wanted. We worked hard to get to this stage. You're the first where everything we wanted to happen all managed to coincide."

"Oh. So what happens now?"

"What happens for any couple I guess—have you spoken to Rakza about last night yet?"

I hadn’t. I knew what happened, I just couldn’t process two cars fucking and my being a first person participant. "No"

"Well, you’ll need to. I hope we can be friends because our were halves are more than friends now. They’re mated and a couple—that’s Kalishera’s view"

I could see a long conversation with my other half brewing in the near future.

The irony is that she was not unattractive—early thirties, fit and curvy—I expected to be lusting after her as a human. However, I didn’t feel this and it was clear she didn’t either.

"Do you want a job." She asked looking up at me.

"Why?" I asked

"You’re here in the day time, you were here during the day last time and I’m guessing that means you’re not employed now." She said, "And I’m going to need some help very soon"

"Oh—it’s true I’m between jobs yes. What do you want doing here?". The showroom was quiet this morning.

"I’ll just need someone to manage the place for a few months and I prefer it be someone who understands why." She said, this time a sly grin. "Rakza did a good job"

"What?"

"Birds and bees, you must know what happens next?"

I thought about it then recoiled a little—Rakza did so too, he was ahead of me.

"No way, that can’t be happening?" I said "How could that even work?"

"I don’t know but my were is telling me otherwise and I know I’ll be stuck in were form for a few months. I’ll need some help." She said. "I’ll pay you for the work"

Truth was, I needed work and how hard could managing her place be?

"Ok, when do I start?"

"Now, I’ve got a little time to train you in the basics before I change completely for a while." She said.

"What’s going to happen?" I asked, curious now.

"That, I’d be guessing, I just rather someone was here when it did. I can only suggest you let Rakza take over if he needs to"

"Uh huh." I couldn’t see how another car was going to be of help with this but like much recently, I didn’t feel like I was going to get a lot of choice.

Chapter 5

The following few weeks passed with days filled with working around the stock she had, how to handle potential buyers, what to say, what to wear. The difference with her place was most punters were extremely wealthy or agents of such. Her job had been wine, dine and charm. Mine was little different really, so I spent a lot of time contrasting fine dining with raucous sleepless evenings with Rakza on the prowl.

Being a Were meant a bed was waste of time, if I lost consciousness, I woke with the wind howling over my bonnet, grit bouncing off my vision and the smell of Kalishera’s exhaust in the air. They raced, chased and even wrestled a little. Coupling occurred often though none of it to the intensity of that first time. I felt for my human counterpart in Kalishera—Rakza’s feelings for the red Corvette threatened to overwhelm me and judging by how she touched him, she was no different.

I struggled daily to understand, a witness to being in love but not being in love all at once. How could that be?

We talked about the future, about Kalishera and about the coming birth. He’d no more idea what was going to happen than I did or why anyone designed were cars to ape biology. The best theory we found was a nanomyeclia virus hybrid designed to produce a hive mind to a specific purpose: to form an individual conscious being in any viable mechanical technology.

In due course, Kalishera informed us that she would no longer be available for work. She spent most of her days sunning herself on the forecourt, nights she raced with Rakza before ending up in a cuddling mess of steel and tyres.

Local cops chased us a few times but nothing can catch a were car except another were, such chases usually ended in laughter as both cars would do daft things like pull one eighties at over a hundred miles an hour then leap over their pursuers.

Kalishera did slow down a little when the change back to being human became impossible. We could both see the subtle bulging of her rear arches, the lifting of her stance. Perversely, the look only served to make Rakza more interested and the time I spent being intimate witness to a multi ton embrace just increased until I never came home to the flat any more.

One morning, Kalishera was dozing in the sun, a little off to one side on the forecourt—hiding in plain sight she called it—when there was an almighty cursing. I rushed out to find a portly man holding his hand.

"That car bit me!?" he said.

A welt was rising rapidly on the skin, it was clear that Kalishera had taken a sly pinch but why?

"I don’t think cars bite." I said, "Must have been some animal hiding nearby, did you see?"

"No, I was leaning in through the window." He proceeded to lean in through the open driver’s window again, right hand resting on her wheel arch to support himself. A silvered tentacle started to reach to the offending hand but I quickly stepped forward and slapped at it. It flashed back to hiding just as he turned to look at me, I was caught at an intimate distance this time, smelling the breath mints he’d been using.

"Scuse me." I said, backing up "I was just trying to see what happened"

Giving me a strange look, he pulled back from Kalishera. "I don’t think a Corvette is right for me, I just wanted to see." He said, edging away from her discomfited by both being bitten and my own behaviour.

"Thanks Kalishera, what the hell?"

She snorted, engine thumping lazily. "He was touching me and where I don’t want to be. Sorry but my arches are NOT for touching right now."

I looked, they were swollen out, giving her a mean, edgy race car look. Rakza approved of course as he stirred inside me again.

"Biting? Really—way to hide"

"I couldn’t help it, just can’t bear to be touched right now." She said, driving off round the back of the showroom. "Shame it was a sunny place but too many tourists". The sulkiness thudded through her engine as she crunched over the gravel to park up somewhere more private.

I addressed Rakza in my mind, Did you know this would happen?

No, it’s as new to me as to her.

Why would someone design creatures like you and her?

We don’t know.

That night I stayed on, clearing up the paperwork from the day—we’d sold two cars but due to their nature, the admin was extensive. Kalishera nosed up to the office door, "I want to drive tonight." She said, frustrated revving punctuating each syllable.

Rakza stirred inside, "I guess we could." I didn’t feel like arguing, and I couldn’t help but look forward to the sense of speed and power that Rakza created.

I set the gates up close after we passed through them and went to undress. Shredded clothes, lost wallets and keys weren’t happening again.

Rakza burst through my skin, far faster than before, eager for the off. Sheets of steel flashed through my flesh, hands warping and melting painlessly, legs deforming as the world around me stretched and wrapped around me. I could smell Kalishera and her child now as she drove away to the gate.

Following I became aware of the intense heat, barely repressed power buzzing, flowing and fizzing high upon my spine if I still had one. I flexed the power and my wheels span; I tried to speak to Rakza but he wasn’t there, not exactly. Both cars told me about this, that one day the change would unify our minds. Yet, I couldn’t resist the urge to chase Kalishera and the last thing I wanted was to shift back.

I focussed on the road ahead, her body a faint glimmer in the distance. I poured on power, the distance warped, the road blurred, wind howled over my nose and she was there—I could barely keep my eyes off her to watch the road.

Hill and valley, bend and straight, our engines raced, moonlight lit our way alone, that was all we needed. A hairpin bend too tight for our speed, in unison we reached out, grabbed a rock and slingshotted ourselves around, four wheeled rockets in tight orbit.

We pulled up at the top of hill, overlooking desert on one side, the town on the other. I could feel something for her that was not there when I was not Rakza, but whoever I was now, the engine of my heart was hammering now as I gazed at every curve and line. Her arches were more prominent, the lift of her rear wheels higher again, a real dragster now.

I reached out and lay one metallic hand to the nearmost arch. She shivered, bucked a little but settled. I stroked her there, her shivers in time with each pass. I pulled round to face her, looking deep into her angled eyes. Her lights flashed a little at me whilst I began to stroke either side of her nose, running my hands over her wheel arches. The human in me wanted to kiss her, but with no meaningful way to do just held her close and tight.

We stayed this way for a time, just holding each other, her shivering against the steel of my arms.

"I don’t know how long it will be before I’m due." She said, "I’ve never done this as a human and like this, I just have no idea"

"That makes two of us." I replied, "What will the baby be like?"

"I don’t think it’s a single one." She said, "I don’t know what the results will be and I try not to think about it. It’s alien, all this weight and feeling. I just want to go back to how I was."

I’d not given much thought to the future—how was this even going to work? I assumed Kalishera would once more revert to human/were car. But the babies—if she was right—I suspected would be something neither of us expected.

We headed back, slower this time, my eyes mostly still for her.

That’s when we were both hit. Hard.

I saw her assailant, large, black, truck sized hit her nose and spin her hard then something thundered into my side, crumbling the door and dislodging a wheel. Pain forked along my body and I felt the ground disappear beneath my wheels. I was going over the cliff!

Chapter 6

Everything looked sharp edged, every rock clear as day as something in me took over. I was falling, tumbling but all four of my external arms whipped out and caught at the ground, claws breaking rocks as they repeatedly stabbed down looking for places to anchor. I jerked to a halt, a wheel flew past and was snagged without thought and yanked back into place. I could feel the painful parts unfolding, slipping and sliding back together, torn edges knitting themselves whole. The wheel once more was part of me.

I looked up at the cliff, couldn’t drive it but found myself climbing, rhythmically bashing anchor points when the rocks were large enough.

My engine was revving wild now, anger and fear driving it. The moment one wheel touched the ground, fire erupted from the tarmac and the world distorted as myself, as Rakza, ripped back along the road. We could see shreds of steel, none of it looked Kalishera coloured, but no Kalishera, just faint lights ahead of us.

This time, Rakza and I, we found out how fast we could really go.

The answer involved sonic booms.

The faint lights grew bright, we barely noticed the road between us and them, the twists and turns. There were several vehicles together, dark, angular, forbidding.

I could smell Kalishera over the diesel stink of their crude engines. These would not be weres.

She was in the middle vehicle. I aimed my nose at the rear wheels of the trailing vehicle, opposite the cliff side. Turnabout time.

Accelerating hard, booms shook the air as my angular nose wedged under the huge truck wheels and tipped it. I reached up and pushed hard, straining not to clip the road as the weight bore down on me. The truck fishtailed and tipped further and further until finally it rolled over the cliff barrier.

The larger truck was next, I knew she was in there. Steel reinforced frame, heavier than the truck I’d already dispatched, I couldn’t risk knocking this one down the cliff. Pulling alongside the driver side, I examined my options. I could only see one. Aiming my nose into the front wheel, I nudged it hard, fast, forcing it to turn and bear the truck off the right, the driver fighting to straighten out. It came to a halt in the scrub, the trailer fishtailed behind it partly blocking the highway.

Several men got out, rifles in hand, bullets bounced and pinged around me, one cracked off my front window but did nothing. It was the work of minutes to chase them away once they ran out of bullets.

I could hear Kalishera, cursing beautifully as she tried to find a way out of the box she was stuck in. Examining the exterior, it was easy to see how the trailer folded in on itself, there was some kind of robotic crane built into it that disappeared into the box itself. Thick panels wrapped around in a chinese puzzle, however I could see the hydraulic lines that fed the whole setup. I pulled the pipework apart and was gratified to hear the hiss of release as panels loosened their hold. A little persuasion, tentacle arm style had the panels bent outwards exposing my lady wrapped in thick silver bands trapping her arms under her wheel arches.

"Took your time?" She said,

"I could give you the tired old line, heavy traffic but that’s the truth. We gotta get you out of here now though, there’s one more truck and they’ll be heading back." I said

Questions could wait.

Each steel band was too thick to simply tear apart, however the bolts anchoring them to the truck bed yielded to my hands and soon sprang open.

"Whatever the hell is going on, let’s find out another time." I said, as she sprang off the platform, wheels lighting up the dark night as she revved, impatient to get away.

"Lets get that other truck." She said,

"I don't think we want to do that—they must have been tracking us to catch us as they did." I replied.

"They’ll be back if we don’t."

"And I think they have more than one other truck. Let's go back home—if they knew where that was they would have taken us already. It was luck." I sure hoped I was right.

Chapter 7

It was a week later, a quiet week if you discount the steady stream of automotive Tourettes coming from Kalishera. It seemed pregnancy was universally uncomfortable. And her undercarriage really was dragging a bit now.

A scream of engine, an uptick in her volume control and one lot of shattered glass was all the signal that I got that it was hot water and towels time. Except, well what do you do?

I approached her, her blood red steel writhing and shuddering on the shiny showroom floor. I couldn’t see how to help, she couldn't tell me, her revving so loud it hurt my ears.

I could feel Rakza panicking a little and had no choice but to let him shift. It was the fastest change I’d experienced yet as we raced to her side. He held her bucking hips, the exaggerated wheel arches looked painful in the point lights of the showroom.

Her rear lifted high, her wheels splayed outwards, below we could see a steel opening form—where the gas tank used to be—this was split and pushed to either side—the cause of the wheel arch stretch.

I could see a thin, silver membrane form in this opening, shifting and wriggling around. Rakza reached under her, lifted her rear a little more and nosed at the membrane. She stuttered and swore, the silver membrane wriggled a little more, her opening widened. Never having participated in a human birth, I’d no true idea what was normal, though I was sure no man got this close. However, he nudged at her again as if encouraging those being born to hurry up.

The revving rose, the screaming bouncing off the walls, windows and floor, her wheels spun furious now; I realised why he was holding her up and why he had to be so involved. She might hurt them if she’d been alone trying to do this—nature hadn’t been involved in how this process would work.

Her body shuddered rhythmically now, the revving beating time to what I can only describe as contractions; as each contraction pulsed the silver sack was pushed out further, her opening pulled wider and the movements inside became more pronounced.

The screaming pierced my mind now, the volume crescendoed, the glass shattered in the front windows and the silver sacked flew into Rakza’s/my own silver coloured hands. He backed away quickly, she slammed down and skidded forwards, nose half hanging out of the showroom, panting, rumbling, crying.

He pulled alongside her, cradling the silver sack, his rear arms reached out to her shivering form.

"You did it." He said

Incoherent swearing was her first response. But she pulled back inside, guided by his hands.

He held out the squirming silver sack to her, "What do you think we have here?"

Exhausted, she laughed quietly, "Don’t be a dick—you did that enough already!"

"Ok, point taken." He said, pulling at the sack trying to open it. She reached over and held part of it still—he pulled again, slowly. The sack split, one tiny angled nose peeped out. Even tinier engine noises greeted their efforts.

Two perfect little cubs with right number of wheels, multi-coloured bonnets and a lot of high pitched noise stared back at them.

Rakza finally stumped for words.

"Twins?!" She said

"Erm, yep." He said, still stunned.

Both were a decided mixt of Ma and Pa, one more a long nosed Lyken, the other a more angled edgy Corvette though the mix made this less clear. Distracted by a tiny tentacle thwacking his nose, Rakza jumped back startled, but didn’t let go.

"Now what?"

"It’s probably feeding time." She said "And I doubt that this was planned that well. We’ll have to improvise."

Improvise was tricky to start with, neither of us had any instinct to help. This was the first time our wholly unnatural state impacted something so basic; the cubs were not anthropomorphic, beyond the tentacle arms questing with some hyperactivity from under their wheel arches, no more than we were. However, I had an idea that required Rakza gave over my form again. Shifting back, I wandered naked through the rather cold showroom—the shattered window was a large one to the back office and into the parts. Here, stubbing my toes a few times, I managed to locate a can of fuel and a pipette. It was all I could think of—what else would the cub of a car have?

The whole thing was still quite surreal, I found myself on auto pilot, trying for some kind of common sense in a situation where neither existed.

"Kalishera, can we park somewhere a bit warmer? I think I need my humanity for this bit." I said.

"I’ve a better idea, just get in." She said, driver door opening to a warm red leather interior.

"Y’know, I never noticed you were all red inside before." I said, clambering in, arms full of squirming cubs—I couldn’t decide what term was appropriate: kits, cubs or pups. Whatever they were, I was getting rubber grazes where the wheels kept fidgeting and spinning.

I sat both cubs on my naked knees, trying to work out how best to do this. One escaped and ended up clambering up the passenger seat, uncoordinated tentacles catching in his/her wheels, making the little car slip back down repeatedly until he ended up on his back, revealing the tiny detail of his sex.

"A most undignified position, and Kalishera, you’ve got at least one boy I think." I said, laughing at him.

I watched as the little car trying to work out how to move again; whining revving noises ensued, rising to ear piercing levels so I reached over carefully, avoiding flailing limbs and set him right. The other cub hadn’t managed to escape my hand, I was able to hold it still whilst I worked out exactly where feeding actually occurred.

Rakza in my mind pointed out the obvious, a subtle feeding port just where fuel would be on a normal car. This I touched, only to have it iris open. I slipped the pipette in, squirted fuel in and the cub stopped wriggling: some things crossed all species boundaries.

The boy stopped trying to race around Kalishera’s interior when he heard his sister feeding and ended up trying to climb back over to me. Reaching over, I grabbed him, sliding my fingers under his belly to revs of mild protest that quit when I found his feeding port.

The next half hour was almost peaceful as I alternated the pipette between both cubs. "How much will these pair take?" I asked Kalishera

"I’ve no idea, though I do know we don’t need anything like the fuel a normal car uses. I think we process it all quite differently. Just keep going until they won’t take any more." She replied.

At this point, the cub whose sex I hadn’t yet worked out, let out some kind of backfire sooting my leg a little and promptly appeared to sleep. If sinking down on wheels and leaving tentacles dangling counts.

"Well, I think that one’s done." I said, gently lifting the cub onto my chest, its face close to mine. This one looked more like Mom from the front, but a little of Rakza’s edge still showed through. "I wonder what you are then?"

Slow, careful, I lifted the cub up, it was just a little larger than a one eighteen model scale but heavier. Silver tentacles dangled and drifted a little, one reaching out to my face—not quite asleep then—and touched my lips. It tickled until I lifted its owner out of reach so I could get a peek underneath. No bulge there. "I’m guessing this one’s a girl Kalishera—there we go. Think we’re the first family like this?"

"I don’t know, but one of each, that’s nice." Her voice was dreamy now, she was drifting too. In fact, drifting a lot. Her doors locked and her engine slowed down to a low murmur.

"Er, Kalishera darling." I said it quietly, torn between not being sure about being locked in all night and not wanting to wake a clearly exhausted Kalishera up. In the end, I settled for tipping the seat back and awkwardly cuddling two model sized cubs, both thankfully warm and fell asleep too.

The following morning I woke, naked but warm, gentle revs in stereo as both cubs ended up on one side or the other nose to my cheek, tentacles tangled all over. I won’t be moving without waking them and I needed to.

"Kalishera, you need to open your doors please—it’s rather urgent." I said, "Otherwise, things could get a little messy and undignified in here."

A door lock slowly rose, the engine rumbled a little protesting being disturbed. "Now for part two—operation don’t wake the cubs." I told myself. Even Rakza lay dormant inside my mind.

Untangling the cubs proved impossible, not without disturbing them. In moments the cabin was alive with high pitched revving and squealing as the two of them woke with some vengeance, tentacles and wheels everywhere. Kalishera woke, revving indignantly as her offspring showed no respect to the notion that Mommy needed to sleep on.

I ducked out fast, my bladder protesting, it was time to sort myself out. The cubs tried to follow, one escaped, the other hit Kalishera’s door —splat!—as she slammed it shut. Wheels splayed, silver tentacles spread, he was quite a sight as he fell backwards onto her seat.

The other one screeched off round the showroom, rapidly gaining driving skill as she doughnutted her way round the nonliving cars and other furniture.

I hoped that Mom would control her and that we wouldn’t be trying to chase a 200mph loony of a baby car round the local highways, I’ve no idea was the local traffic would make of that spectacle.

Chapter 8

The following days were a mix of the hectic and ecstatic, the twins had bags of energy and yet didn’t require much in the way of fuel to get it; I on the other hand, was worn out trying to catch them—they would find it amusing to hide beneath the non living cars in the showroom and appear quietly behind customers during opening hours.

Tya did get caught by one elderly gentleman who was looking at a beautiful old Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost-we stocked rare cars, rarely selling them but they bought in the sightseers. He was examining the coachwork when he nearly stepped back onto her and turned to see her sat there, thankfully tentacles well hidden. He picked her up, she spun her wheels, he dropped her, she bounced and raced away.

I rushed over "Sorry about that, one of the salespeople’s kids must be at it again."

"That’s ok, I have grandchildren of my own. That was a very good model, rather heavy for a radio controlled model. Where’d they get it from?"

"I don’t know, the kids are very spoilt." Lying fluently is rapidly becoming natural.

"No matter, I’d like to take this grand Lady out, if she drives as she looks, I am interested." He said.

The Ghost was gone the following day, and I think Tya’s presence helped the sale.

We called the twins Tya and Renka—my vote of Tom & Jerry or Speedy & Gonzales was met with an impressive yet derisive V8 snort. Oh well, I tried.

Rakza took to going out at night along with Kalishera, but the twins? I guess baby cars just don’t have working clocks and so far there was no inclination for them to change forms. Kalishera’s theory was that they would learn to shift to a human form when they were older. I didn’t know how things would be if that didn’t occur—teenage were-cars would be big enough to be problematic—too small to be proper cars, too big to be passed off as toys.

***

Scene 1: Infection and discovery of second mind.

Scene 2: The change

Scene 3: The panicked drive and the talk.

Scene 4: The second drive, he meets Kalishera

Scene 5: The mating

Scene 6: The job offer

Scene 7: The pregnancy

Scene 8: The chase and fight, the military try to take ownership.

Scene 9: The birth

Scene 10: The babies

Scene 11: Were cars at school and trouble with bullies.

Scene 12: The military are back, the peace offering.

Scene 13: