by Deja Black
Immediately, the vibrations decreased, and the lights wavered then vanished.
“Well, I’m thankful there’s at least a warning before I light up in smoke.” Moving back, Caleb crossed his arms and continued with his thought. “And, that excuses human atrocities against our kind how, my Korol?”
“Ignorance?”
“It’s not enough to claim ignorance. Look at how humans treat their own. They’re the monsters.”
Caleb and Peter had known each other for years, at first as friends then later as Second and Korol. They were kindred spirits, and when Peter was given Caleb as his Second, he fully accepted Jeremiah Tolliver’s decision.
It was Peter’s destiny to someday lead his father’s coven of nelapsi—a position he didn’t want. He needed someone who would not only know him but who possessed the training Kristoff Dumanovsky provided, a Beta—or for a coven, a Second.
He needed someone to help lead the coven—with their ancient tenants and practices—into the here and now. Certainly, a wolf would go a long way to moving past age-old differences between the two species.
Jeremiah Tolliver was to thank for seeing this. He knew things many would only witness years later. Jeremiah was both a wise and fierce leader, a visionary.
Because of all Peter put into place, the day that he took over his father’s coven, he would be ready, with a Supruga—a mate—or no.
Someday, he may even want to lead.
Peter sighed, aware of the warning glow at the ends of his fingertips. Putting the mouse away, he turned to face Caleb.
“What of Dan and Aiden?” Surely Caleb didn’t assign the same level of mistrust to the Alpha’s own human son.
“Dan is pack.”
“Though he was adopted by Jeremiah, Caleb, Dan is still human.”
“A human that was able to mate with a Sandman, a dream-walker. Even Aiden questioned being with him, relying on Dan to keep his soul. Dan’s ability to shelter a creature that has lived for thousands of years? That could virtually walk into a person’s dream, play with their mind and shift their thoughts? There is something more than human there.”
“The Goddess Moon gives all, Caleb.”
“Yes, Peter. I know, and still, I want nothing to do with humans. They take what doesn’t belong to them and destroy it. Dan is unique. He was the perfect mate for Aiden, able to help pull him back from the darkness where the power he used to alter man’s psyche could also destroy them. Dan is more.” His words tendered gently toward the end, a testament of how acutely he felt for the Alpha’s son.
“What about—”
“Peter,” Caleb groaned.
“I am merely pointing out, my Vtoroy, my honorable Second, that if there is one human that is not depraved or deserving to be dismembered by one Caleb Waneek, then perhaps there are others worthy of your regard? Yes, some humans have committed atrocities.” He didn’t want Caleb thinking he lacked understanding. He did understand. Still, “There are others who have, too. All should not be punished for the crimes of a few.”
Caleb said nothing. Then, glancing out the store window and back to Peter, he groaned. “What of this human that stalks you, then?”
Peter went rigid. He’d noticed that the humming began again, the feeling different this time.
Need blending with the vibration, the light returning, fluttering over his skin along with the repetitive whispers of mate flowing in his mind.
“It remains to be seen.” There was no stopping the grin that warmed his cheeks as Remi approached. And, he wasn’t alone in his eagerness if the way his skin expanded and contracted was any sign.
“Well, Peter, as he is swaggering over here, we will be able to see then, won’t we?” Caleb stepped away further giving Peter room to turn and wait for Remi.
Remi Devereaux was without a doubt a divine work of art. The photographer’s heart pumping within Peter’s chest stuttered with the idea of capturing him on film. Bronzed skin, his cock a leashed animal barely held back by those relaxed jeans he wore. Tall, wearing dark brown leather boots, his upper torso dense with musculature, Peter wanted to touch and claim every single inch.
Dark eyes in an unforgettable chiseled face searched and found its quarry. As Remi neared him, it did nothing to quell Peter’s growing hunger. He wanted Remi, and just what was he going to do about that?
Chapter Four
Remi juggled the cups of coffee carefully as he opened the shop door. When he looked up, he found Peter’s eyes following him with heated interest as he neared. That suited him just fine. Peter could start with interest, then hopefully catch up to where Remi was bordering on obsession.
Remi would take this slow and steady, not frighten him. Peter called to him, made him want more and he’d only seen the guy once. He didn’t want to spook him, lose his chance at finding out just what that something was.
He was surprised when Peter walked quickly up to him. His smooth body felt strong and powerful, as he flattened himself against Remi’s muscular form. Remi gasped when Peter wrapped an arm halfway around his waist. He stopped breathing, hearing, and just enjoyed the touch gliding over him.
Currents of electricity sizzled over his flesh making him shiver as Peter’s arm, sinewy and firm held him, his leg sliding between his own. He’d cum in his pants from that alone.
Finally, he heard past his racing heart. “Coffee. Is it for me?” Remi was too lost in the way Peter felt against him to speak.
“Interesting. He’s come all this way uninvited and won’t utter a word,” Remi heard Caleb say. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Caleb nodded to Peter. “I won’t be far, Korol.” Remi listened as Caleb left, the door shutting behind him.
Peter moved closer—if that was possible—and Remi’s dick struggled for release. “So, Remi, will you remain quiet as a mouse, or will I hear you roar like a lion? Anything from those lovely lips of yours would be a treasure.” Peter’s voice was a soft growl, teasing along his skin.
“Coffee?”
“What kind? I’m interested to know what type of coffee you’d think I would need, a man like me.”
Remi swallowed thickly. Yeah, Peter was lovely, but he wasn’t a woman. No soft curves here. The virile male that held him in an iron grasp was all man. He didn’t believe he’d be able to move unless Peter let him, and that right there nearly made his knees buckle.
“Caramel mocha latte,” he replied. “Not too sweet. Not too strong.”
Peter’s lips turned up, a hint of mischief at the corner. “And, is that how you would like me to be, Remi? Not too sweet, not too strong?”
Peter moved his arm and took both cups from Remi’s hands, setting them both on a table and turning back to him. Remi wanted to reach out to wrap those silvery strands swaying before him around his fist to bring Peter’s lips to his, open them, and plunge his tongue into their depths.
His blood rushed when Peter whispered, “Taste me, Remi. See if I match your coffee.”
Remi never kissed a man before, but if it were anything like having his mouth on Peter Romanoff, he’d never stop. Sharp teeth nibbled and bit his lips, a searching tongue plunged into his mouth, taking him. Peter’s tongue thrust in, again and again, the motion so like fucking his face he felt the clinging wetness of pre-cum inside his briefs.
The kiss gentled at times, softened before he felt the waves of lust crash over him once more, then his air left him as he was slammed against a wall, Peter’s sharp nails like claws piercing his shoulders. Their hips pumping as their pelvises rocked together.
He was being mauled and was helpless to do anything more than whimper for breath as Peter claimed him. There were zings of electricity coursing through him, swallowing him in feeling. He trembled, again and again, powerless against the onslaught.
He’d never been desired like this before—possessed. If Peter was trying to make a point, it was being made. If Remi died right here in this store from the lack of air to breathe, he’d die
happy.
Teeth nipped harder at his lips, grazed over his chin, singeing a path down his neck, then pressed against his collarbone.
The pain was sharp, biting, and turned him on, but instead of seeing stars Remi all but swore blue lights zipped between him and Peter.
Gasping, he opened his eyes fully and met the satisfied look on Peter’s face. Running his tongue along his own bruised lips, Remi traced his swollen mouth feeling the tiny abrasions from sharp teeth. Peter’s tongue poked out gently lapping the dots of Remi’s blood that lay wet on his lips. He observed Remi carefully as he savored Remi’s taste.
Remi’s heart pumped wildly as he took in a breath. “A date,” he murmured. He needed a promise, a spoken word they would see each other again—do this again. Before Peter spoke, though, the door chimed, signaling Caleb’s return.
Peter looked at Remi thoughtfully.
“A date. You owe me a date. If you’re going to make it to first base right here, right now, at the very least, you owe me a date,” Remi stated.
Imperfect timing, Remi groaned.
“Your partner is waiting for you, Detective Devereaux.”
“Remi, and not until I have my answer. Peter?”
There was a noticeable shift in Peter at Caleb’s use of Remi’s title. So, they were aware he was a detective. He didn’t understand why that made Peter retreat, but Remi was hoping that the kiss they just shared would negate any hesitation.
“Peter, we should say farewell to the police detective.” Caleb turned to Remi, “Shall I walk you out?”
The door chimed again, but Remi only had eyes for Peter. “Remi, everything okay?” Kaden asked. “There was a flash that came from in here, and—”
“All is well. Detective Devereaux was just leaving.” Caleb opened the door. Remi ignored him, though and stepped closer to Peter who took a step back, wary.
“Asking Peter for a date, a movie. Movie and a dinner. Bowling. Maybe a play. Just some time alone without his bodyguard.” He moved a foot forward, within touching distance of Peter once again.
Remi wasn’t going to let whatever seed Caleb planted destroy his chance at having Peter, having those hands on him again—and more. This wasn’t over for either of them.
“I am more than Peter’s bodyguard, hu—”
“Caleb! You forget yourself!” Peter hissed.
This was getting interesting. Remi scrutinized Caleb’s averted face, the exposure of his neck, his submission. Things were not quite adding up here.
“More than a bodyguard, Caleb? What exactly are you then?” Those shuttered eyes flicked to him, then off toward where Peter no doubt still stood and he remained silent.
“He is my friend, Detective Devereaux.” Remi turned back to see Peter regain his composure, and lose the wariness present only moments ago. “Thank you for coming. I’ll enjoy your gift. Perhaps you should get back to work, and I’ll do the same. Caleb.”
“Yes, Peter.” A much more subdued Caleb opened the door for Remi and Kaden, following them out.
“Caleb,” Peter’s tone was an unmistakable warning.
“Yes, Korol. My Arm. Your law.”
Peter sighed. “Thank you.” The door closed with only the sound of the chimes drifting in the air.
Remi glanced at Kaden, confident they were both wearing twin expressions of total what the hell. Korol? The response Caleb made, his arm and law, accompanied by Peter’s exhausted sigh? What did that mean?
Kaden entered the truck while Remi moved to go around to the driver’s side.
“You are not for him.” Caleb glanced back at the store.
“What?”
“For Peter.” This time his voice was louder. “He’s not for you.” Caleb’s eyes found his. “I ask you, Detective Devereaux, are you gay?”
“Nope. But, does that matter? More importantly, why should that matter to you?” There it was again, a sort of smoldering underneath Caleb’s wintry countenance, a threat and then surprise when Remi didn’t back down.
“Why, Cher?” Using the endearment in his native tongue was a surprise, but he didn’t let it show.
Remi moved closer to Caleb, inside his personal space, and instantly noticed Caleb’s shiver. He moved closer to Remi, almost touched him before he caught himself and stepped back, a current of energy passing through him.
“Shit.”
“Ditto. Caleb. There’s a tie here between you two that I’m feeling, and you are, too. Talk to me.” He reached out, dragged Caleb to him.
Caleb’s struggle with himself was visible, the way he seemed to stop himself from leaning into Remi.
Remi believed if he had more time, he’d hear the truths he needed. But, the Hill Street Blues ringtone from his phone said that wasn’t going to happen right now. He released Caleb who fell back unsteady.
“Whoa, there.” Reaching out, he grasped Caleb’s arm steadying him. “Go back in. I have to get work, but I’ll be back.” Remi squeezed his arm lightly.
Still dazed, Caleb turned and drifted back into the store with Remi examining him. An alien feeling of protection enveloped him as Caleb returned to Peter. When the door was fully closed, he got in his truck and flipped the ignition.
“What the hell was that, Remi?”
“I’m not sure, but that man that just stumbled back in there? He belongs to me, same as he does Peter.”
“You want to fuck him, too?” Kaden asked, his tone questioning.
“No, not at all. I want to keep Caleb safe. Like, he’s a part of me, of my home. Like family?” Remi was trying to put a label on it, figure out what was happening to him, but he didn’t possess any answers to give himself, much less Kaden.
The one thing he did know was the more he saw Peter, the more he needed him, and Caleb was a part of that deal. He felt it in his bones but didn’t understand how.
“This is getting beyond weird, Remi,” his partner said.
“You’re telling me.” Time to deal with what they could handle and go in for round three with Peter later. A dead body? Yes. This? It needed to wait. “What do we have?”
Chapter Five
Remi arrived on the scene to see another life sadly ripped out of the world. And, just when he thought he’d witnessed it all, nothing had prepared him for this.
The woman’s body lay ravaged. Her eyes torn from their sockets. No one deserved this. What transgression did she commit for her blood to be used as an artist’s medium to paint words that dripped garishly on a wall in her home? A home she shared with a husband and three children from what Remi saw in the portrait on the wall above the mantel.
Marisol De La Cruz had been slight with elegant features. Now, her dark hair was matted in drying blood, her hands rigid, still raised in the act of defending herself from the beasts that tore her apart.
Her clothes, too, were caked in blood, her teeth chipped and broken. She’d fought hard and in vain. The one thing they hoped to find was skin and tissue beneath her fingernails that would help identify her killers. Her mouth was frozen in an open scream, her head angled toward the writing.
The words spread wet and bloody on the wall. The source assumedly from De La Cruz’s own body.
Lyuboy, kto mozhet obratit’sya po etomu puti budet nayti tol’ko razoreniye i razrusheniye v kontse kontsov. Krov’ ostavat’sya chistoy.
Surrounding the words were brilliant photos, and as Remi looked around, he saw more of the same. People, ironwork, local artisans performing their craft, pictures taken in countries he would probably never see decorated the walls everywhere he looked.
“A photographer, right,” he said to no one in particular.
“Yes, sir,” Sammy answered as she scribbled something on her tablet.
Not on the team long, Sammy came highly recommended by way of the Carolinas. He wondered what she thought, seeing the mutilated body of a wife and mother. Sammy’s hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, her clothes one somber shade
of gray, from her suit that hid whatever curves lay beneath, to her sensible shoes. It was like looking at one of the guys, which was probably her intent.
Remi glanced back at the gritty red words with bits of bone fragments and tissue smeared in. He didn’t recognize the language, but he heard one of the forensic scientists working the room say it was Russian, that he used to date a girl from there who would write beautiful letters to him.
Kaden raised his brows at Remi surprised. Yeah, the guy was a jerk. Who would put up with him long enough?
“So, what’s it say, Davis?” Kaden asked from behind his camera.
“Fuck if I know,” Davis sneered. “Said she wrote beautiful letters. Never said I knew how to read them. Chick has the nicest set of tits, and usually sent some first-rate photos that were always excellent for later use, you know.” He winked. “Check with the linguistic department. They should know. Showed one of them her pics a few times, and he’d tell me what she wrote. Sad sap was more interested in the words, though.” Shrugging, he turned back as he continued working the scene.
Remi shook his head. Yeah, still an asshole.
As if he understood Remi’s thoughts, Kaden nodded and took more pictures of the words, carefully traversing the area around the body. His look was troubled as he immortalized the gruesome face whose mouth still stood open in a silent scream.
“Sick. We need to find this guy,” Kaden said. The flashing light from the camera threw shadows on the wall.
“Could just as easily be a woman,” Remi said.
Kaden huffed. He moved further away from Remi to take pictures of the floor, the destroyed furniture, the wooden chair arm covered in blood and bits of skin, probably what was used to break De La Cruz’s teeth—teeth that were possibly used in the macabre script.
“These are different times, man. Women can be vicious killing machines. Remember the Jordan case?” Remi paused. “Maybe De La Cruz was cheating on her husband, seeing someone she shouldn’t. Their paths may have crossed without her realizing it.” Remi knelt before the victim. “The murder here was committed with extreme rage.”