by Rachel Green
“Now I feel hungry.” Julie looked at him and winked. “I’ll have a chicken dansak.”
“You should eat plenty.” The demon picked up a menu. “Channeling magic isn’t for kids.” He scanned the list of meals as an imp gate opened. “I want four Happy Dinners. Make sure the toys are different.”
John the imp dropped onto the table, careful not to dip his hooves in blood. He looked around at the assembled nephilim and stared at Wrack.
“Wow.” He buffed his claws on his shoulder ridge. “Wotcha, ’andsome.”
Chapter 26
Felicia watched as Jenna headed out of the door, shifting almost immediately into her half-were form. She watched the older woman’s buttocks as she ran, the muscles shifting under her pants in a most provocative manner. With John on her shoulder, she and Gillian followed at a more sedate pace.
“She’s pretty.” Gillian watched the young woman loping down the drive.
Felicia followed her gaze. “Jenna?”
“Yes.” Gillian paused. “Has she a claim on you?”
Felicia shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. We had sex. She turned me into what I am.”
“Do you always like them young?”
Felicia became defensive. “As long as they’re adults. I like their pliancy, their willingness to please.”
Gillian laughed. “I’m certainly neither young nor pliant. Some would consider me vintage.” She ran a red fingernail down Felicia’s cheek. “Do you find me desirable?”
“Well yes, of course.” Felicia blushed. “But I thought you were happy with Harold?” She gestured to the house, where Harold was ordering take-away. He was ordering, though she gathered he’d send Devious to do the actual taking away.
“I am.” Gillian cupped Felicia’s cheek. “But there’s no denying my nature. He knows I’m bisexual.”
“I’m not, though.” Felicia took a step back. “I’m not comfortable with being with you after you’ve been with him.”
Gillian laughed. “Fair enough. I’ve not been with him today. I’d only just risen and hunted when I got your call about the fight.”
“I didn’t call.” Felicia thought about the phone in her pocket. It hadn’t even occurred to her during the fight.
“Yes, you did.” Gillian tapped Felicia’s heart. “I heard your scream.”
“How?” Felicia tore her gaze away from Gillian’s dark eyes. “I’m not your scion or anything.”
“Nevertheless, we have a connection.”
“Why don’t you get on with hunting?” John tapped Felicia’s shoulder. “Then we can get back.”
Gillian glared at him. “We were having a conversation. What’s your problem?”
“I just want to get back to the house, that’s all.” John looked in the direction Jenna had taken. “Look! She’s half a mile ahead already.”
Gillian shook her head. “We’ll talk later, after we’ve hunted.” She began to run across the lawn toward the town.
“Wait!” Felicia broke into a run as well. “Isn’t the sheep field the other way?”
“You can’t keep hunting in the same place. People will get suspicious. Before you know it, there’ll be someone waiting for you with a gun.”
“So?” Felicia grinned. “Unless they’ve loaded it with silver bullets, I’ll survive.”
“And then they’ll hunt the wounded dog. A hunt that will expose you and eventually kill you unless you keep on running. That sheep field belongs to one of our neighbors. How long before he looks to us for the killer? Then we become exposed as well. If you want to leave, fine, but I will not allow you to jeopardize our life here.” She sped up, putting a hundred yards between them.
They crossed the Old Oxford road and headed down the bank onto the river path. It headed in the right direction and kept them off the streets and away from curious eyes. As the trees along the bank faded from oaks and beeches into cultivated hedges, they entered the royal park by the south gate, heading west toward the town. The chimes of St. Pity’s sounded the hour as Felicia caught up.
“I’m sorry.” Felicia settled into an easy, loping pace. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“I know.” Gillian flashed her a smile. “If you want an easy kill, ask one of the imps for food. They’ll go to the supermarket. If you want to hunt and hone your skills, you need something a little more challenging than sheep.” She led her through Market Square toward Cheapside, and slowed her pace.
“Such as?” Felicia looked up the road. The clubs had begun to empty, discharging revelers into the streets. “I don’t want to kill people.”
“Not even the ones that want to die?” Gillian stopped. “I felt like you once. When I was a fledgling, I tried to live on rats and sheep but you’ll never grow strong like that. Sometimes people want to die. We can help.”
“It’s still murder.”
“In this world, perhaps.” Gillian put an arm around Felicia’s shoulders. “I was cynical about the whole concept of other planes once. I believed our spirits went somewhere else when we died but gave no thought where, just labeled it Heaven and put it out of mind. Now I know Hell exists, I can kill without compunction if I do it for the greater good.”
“What greater good? Bad people, you mean? Murderers and rapists and the like?”
“Those too.” Gillian tilted her head to one side, “but I was thinking of suicides. Did you know it was a mortal sin to commit suicide?
“I remember, yeah. What about it?”
“I kill those who desire death. The Wailing Wood is full enough with those I didn’t help. I can at least spare those I kill from that.”
“What Wailing Wood? You’ve lost me completely.”
“There’s a circle of Hell called the Wailing Wood. You can ask Jasfoup about it if you like. All the suicides end up as twisted trees–”
“–and bleed for eternity, mocked by flocks of harpies,” said Felicia. “I’ve read Dante too. Are you saying it’s real?”
Gillian shrugged. “I’ve never been to Hell so I can’t say for definite. It’s Jasfoup’s home, though, so I tend to trust what he says about it.”
“So you kill potential suicides to stop them being trees?”
“Yes.” Gillian shrugged. “Not the most noble of callings, I admit, but I rarely kill. There’s no point in reducing my herd needlessly.”
“So what do you do?”
“I call those who wish to give me blood. Watch.”
She turned in a slow circle, a look of concentration upon her angular features. “There.” She pointed toward the Darkside, a club for people who wanted a little pain with their pleasure. As Felicia watched, a woman came out, hardly dressed for the chill of the evening. She was middle aged, her bare breasts bursting from a tightly laced corset. She acted like a sleepwalker but walked straight up to Gillian and stopped.
“Are you sure you want to see this?”
Felicia nodded. “We’re all monsters on the inside.”
Gillian placed one hand on the woman’s neck and the other on her shoulder, guiding her to expose the artery. Her canines slid down as she opened her mouth, extending a full three inches as she sank her teeth into the willing victim.
Felicia turned away at the sucking. It sounded disturbingly similar to the oral sex she was so fond of. She turned back as the woman began to moan, recognizing the build-up of an orgasm.
Gillian’s eyes caught hers and she winked, supporting the woman as she slumped. She pulled away, her teeth retracting until they were no longer pronounced. “Give her a moment. Beryl always faints when she comes. I only took a little as a demonstration. I had yours earlier, remember?”
“Yes.” Felicia stared at Beryl. “Does that always happen?”
“The orgasms?” Gillian sent Beryl back to the club. “Usually. Not always. Some of them don’t know how to relax to let them come.” She followed Beryl with her eyes until the older woman went back into the building. “She’ll be fine. She’ll only remember she had an especial
ly good time tonight.”
“The ones who don’t have orgasms? How young are they?”
Gillian barked a laugh. “I don’t take children, if that’s what you’re inferring. Most are respectable women like Beryl who have been happily married for years.”
“Do you take men too?” Felicia’s stomach began to rumble. Her groin felt superheated.
“Yes. I’m not as squeamish as you.” She paused and caught hold of Felicia’s wrist. “We’re in luck. See that bloke up there?”
Felicia squinted. “What about him?”
“He’s a predator. Not our kind, the human kind. I’m surprised to see him, though. I thought he was doing time.”
“He’s following someone.” Felicia picked up her pace, her feet silent against the pavement.
“It’s your dog.” Gillian easily kept pace. “She’s leading him on. She was wearing more than that when she left the manor.”
“Then I can share the kill.” Felicia picked up the pace, partially shifting form as she ran, though not enough to lose her humanoid shape. Did it still count as cannibalism if one was a different species to ordinary people? What would the flesh of an actual person taste like? Steak? She began to salivate but was surprised to find her mouth wasn't the only place she was getting wet. The tingle in her cunt heralded her arousal and her easy pace felt akin to the rhythm of sex.
Her canines pricked at her bottom lip.
Chapter 27
Felicia entered the alley behind the Darkside and stopped. A lighter gap between two rows of shadowed brick thirty yards away promised the safety of an open street. To her right the crumbling brickwork of the museum ran uninterrupted for the whole length of the alley but the walls on her left were a jumble of adjoining buildings, each jostling for space and somewhere to store waste skips and wheelie bins. Jenna was twenty yards ahead, the man between them.
This close to the street, yellow light reflected from his partially bald head, the hair from one side combed across. He faced Jenna, one hand toward her, palm up, and the other wedged in the pocket of his overcoat. His voice carried easily across the short distance.
“What were you running for? I only want a bit of a chat.”
Jenna’s stance shifted. She backed into the alley on the balls of her feet. He followed, each step bringing him nearer the darkness.
Jenna’s voice warbled. “So talk. What do you want? Don’t tell me you need the number of a taxi firm.”
“Let’s talk about you. What’s a nice girl like you doing out at this time of night?” He took another step forward.
“I’m not a nice girl.” Jenna backed farther away. “I could ask the same question of you. Why aren’t you at home making your mother a cup of cocoa?”
“Because I’m here, talking to you.”
“Tell me what you want. Sex? I’m not that sort of girl.”
“Not sex.” He took another step forward, one hand still in his coat pocket. “I’ve got something better in mind.”
“Like what? You got something in there you want to show me?”
Felicia let the wolf come, her vision shifting into the infra-red. Now he was lit up like a Christmas tree, his exposed hand and face blue with cold, his torso and groin red with body heat and excitement. She could smell testosterone and arousal like intertwined strands of pink and red.
“Sure.” He pulled out a combat knife, the blade slightly curved on one side and toothed like a saw on the other.
“Big knife for a little man. Is this a compensation issue?”
“Watch your mouth, you filthy whore.” He held the knife out to his right, as if he were herding sheep, his left hand stretched as if to grab her.
Jenna crouched lower, bobbing from side to side and holding her weight on the balls of the feet. “That’s a little insulting. Only a moment ago you thought I was a nice girl.”
“That was before I heard the filth coming out of your mouth.” He took another step forward. His stance bobbed in unison with Jenna’s.
“What? Compensation?” Her teeth flashed a grin. Felicia could see the heat transfer as his muscles bunched ready to pounce. “That’s only a dirty word to a solicitor. Is that what you are? A dirty, money-grubbing solicitor?”
“What I am is none of your business.” He lunged, bringing the knife round in a wide arc toward her side.
Instead of trying to get away, Jenna stepped toward him, her left arm sweeping up to catch him on the wrist with the force of an iron bar. The knife clattered away into the darkness behind her.
Her right hand came up under his chin and her leg straightened, sending him reeling backward. The scents of confusion and pain flooded the street as he crashed to the damp cobbles. “Not so cocky now, are you mate?”
He scrabbled backward as her foot came down on his wrist, crushing the bones against the cobbles. He drew a breath to scream but never managed to expel it, for Felicia clamped one hand over his jaw and tore out his vocal chords with the other.
“Nice of you to join me.” Jenna pressed down further on the wrist. “Do help yourself to my kill.”
“Sorry.” Felicia grinned. “I thought you were in trouble.”
“What could he have done?” Jenna shifted her features into a wolf and drew closer to his face, laughing at his terror. She shifted back. “There’s nothing he could have done that would have harmed me.”
“You were taking so long, though.”
“Only because I wanted to be sure. I had to be certain he was the kind to hurt or kill an ordinary woman.” She squatted next to him. “I bet you never believed in werewolves.”
He shook his head, his only sound a high keening, though from his terror or the damage to his throat, Felicia could only guess.
“Do you believe in them now?”
He nodded.
“Good.” Jenna balled her fist and punched through his ribs. Splintered bone pierced her wrist as she pulled out his heart, arteries stretching and snapping as he shuddered and died. Jenna bit into it like an apple, blood staining her hands and cuffs. Rivulets squeezed from the organ, spraying into the air and onto both their faces.
She passed it to Felicia who only hesitated for a moment before she sank her teeth into the firm flesh and swallowed. It felt good. It felt right. A trickle of blood washed over her gums and down her throat, coating the back of her mouth with a sauce more heady than the finest gravy. The second bite was equally good, the firm flesh chewy and filled with flavor. A piece caught on her teeth and she fished it out. It was a length of artery. The bile rose in her throat. She dropped the heart back into the gaping cavity and gulped. “What am I doing? We just killed a man in cold blood.”
“Rather warm, actually.” Jenna retrieved the remainder. “Best tuck in before it goes cold.”
“But we’re killers. We’re no better than him.”
“Except that other women now have a greater chance of survival.” She dug farther into the body cavity and pulled out his liver. She sniffed at the organ and grimaced then tossed it to one side before selecting another. “Cancer. It tastes like mold.”
Felicia’s grimace made her laugh. “Here. Try a piece of steak.” She dug her claws into his leg and tore out a chunk of flesh. “I hope you like it rare.”
Felicia took a bite, nodding as the blood ran down her throat. “It’s good. Best I ever tasted, in fact.”
“Told you.” Jenna took a chunk for herself. “This is our natural prey. It may be a difficult to begin with but we’re carnivores. If we were meant to eat carrots we’d be were-rabbits.”
Felicia laughed and leaned forward. “I know what sort of meat I like. You weren’t averse to it either, the first time we met.”
Jenna laughed. “Good point, but later, girl, later.”
“What about the body? We can’t leave it here.”
“I suppose not.” Jenna stood and held out a hand. “We’ll have to dump it somewhere.”
“We drop it in the river.”
Jenna nodded. “Yes. If we d
rop it below the falls it will be washed away.”
“And we can clean up at the same time.” Felicia looked down at herself. She looked as if she’d been rolling in blood.
Jenna smiled. “Help me with this.” She gathered the discarded pieces of their impromptu meal while Felicia buttoned the man’s jacket to keep his insides in. She hoisted the body up and began to run toward the far end of the alley. Felicia took a look at the blood they’d left, shrugged and followed, partially shifting into wolf form and leaving bloody paw prints on the cobbles.
* * * *
Gillian watched them go then signaled John.
He opened a gate and returned moments later with a large bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush, a flowered handkerchief tied over his scaly head. Devious appeared shortly after, struggling to pull a wet and dry vacuum cleaner three times his size. He stared at the scene, paws on hips.
“I knew there was a reason I never worked for werewolves. You start on the splashes and I’ll get to work on the big pool of blood in the middle.”
John nodded and began to scrub.
Gillian left them to it.
Chapter 28
The ringtone of Felicia’s mobile phone pulled her away from a dream about making love to Jenna, kissing her neck and running her hands through the other werewolf's hair. She scrabbled to find it, terrified she’d miss the call, her hand damp and scented with the smell of her own sex. “Hello?” She yawned, glancing at the clock for the time. It was after nine. She hadn’t slept that late in months, not even on a Sunday. She focused on a Samuel Palmer. She was still at the manor, then.
“Fliss?” The voice was Meinwen’s. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours. Where have you been?”
“Sorting things out.” Felicia sat up and pushed herself backward to lean against the headboard. “What’s up?”
“Your gallery’s been closed but there’s a bloke who keeps staring in the window.”
“Who?” Felicia looked at the blood caked beneath her fingernails
“How should I know? He hasn’t come in here.”