by Cat Marsters
He trailed off, his eyes on the road ahead. Spots of rain dotted the windscreen.
Sofie glanced over. Once again the smiling, energetic Finn was gone, and he looked grim now, dark and grieving.
Had he lost family in those attacks? He said it was before his time, but how long did Elves live? Maybe his parents or his grandparents had suffered losses.
“How many survived?” she asked eventually.
“A few hundred. They went underground. Some of them got taken in by a winter deity on the ice at the North Pole. Vampires couldn’t go there, except in winter, and by then he’d made it known they were under his protection. Some went south for the same reason. They’d at least get six months of freedom while the days were too long for the vampires to risk exposure.”
North Pole? Winter? Oh, surely he didn’t mean…
But before she could ask, Finn continued. “Of course, not everyone escaped that way. Some went to the Fae for help. The Fae are related to us -- well, sort of, a little like humans and monkeys. Us being the monkeys, at least to them. They made the Elves beg for protection. These incredible, beautiful, strong beings, like gods on earth, reduced to begging for help. Of course, once the Fae had offered it, they were obliged to keep their promise. Fae can’t lie, you know. But they made the Elves bargain. Thousands of years of demeaning labor in return for protection against the vampires.
“By the time the Elves were free again, humans had spread across the earth and the vampires were in retreat. They had enough to feed on, and didn’t dare risk harming the Elves still under Fae protection. The Elves had learned from the Fae by now, and they struck a bargain with the vampires that was mostly in their own favor. A treaty between them that the vampires wouldn’t ever hunt the Elves again. As we were backed by the Fae, still sworn to protect the Elves, the vampires agreed to it.”
“Has the treaty held?” Sofie asked.
“Pretty much. Anyone contravening it has been… well, the punishments haven’t been pretty. It’s not as if we’re all living in perfect harmony now, but things are a lot calmer. You saw me, I even managed to have a conversation with a vampire the other day.”
Masika. A part of Sofie knew that the strange, threatening woman had been other, like herself. A vampire. Well, well.
“So…” She tried to remember the story. “I don’t understand. Why has the Elfking risen now? Why not when the vampires were slaughtering thousands of his people? Why now, when you’re at peace with them?”
Finn raised one palm. “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to see the twenty-first century for himself. Maybe he’s heard of the Internet and he’s desperately curious.”
“Be serious.”
He flashed her a grin. “Me, serious? Look at you, all involved in this. Thought you didn’t believe in Elves and vampires.”
“I don’t.”
“So…”
His cockiness was annoying her today. Everything was irritating her today. The smoky scent of the car’s leather seats, the rub of denim against her skin, the noise of the road under the E-type’s wheels. Everything seemed louder, every smell stronger. Stupid full moon.
“I’m asking for your take on it. Clearly these people are exploiting the myth.”
“Oh no, oh no. We’re not coming back to street gangs again. No, no.”
“But they can’t be --”
“Actual Elves and vampires? Come on, Sofie, you’re a werewolf --”
“I’m not,” she said automatically.
“You so are! I saw you. I’ve got scars from you.”
She blushed hotly, but stuck to her guns. “There’s no such thing as werewolves.”
“So what was that, PMS? I’ve heard some women say they turn into bitches three nights a month, but they didn’t mean it literally.”
Sofie thinned her lips. “Can we talk about something else?”
Finn stared at her. “Such as? We can’t talk about werewolves or sex --”
“It’s raining.”
“So it is.” He flicked the windscreen wipers on. “You’re a werewolf.”
“I’m not.”
“So how do you explain the ripping of my throat last night?”
Her fingers clenched into a tight fist. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not looking for an apology. I really don’t mind about it. I’m just asking --”
“I got angry,” she said, her nails digging into her palms. Nails which were feeling more claw-like the angrier she got.
“Do you usually rip out people’s throats when you get angry? You must be fun in an interrogation room.”
She was never allowed in an interrogation room. Not after she’d nearly snapped the spine of a rapist.
“Change the subject,” she said through gritted teeth. Teeth which were lengthening into lupine fangs.
“It’s still raining.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You’re still a werewolf.”
“Finn, drop it.”
“But you are. How can you be in this much denial? You’re a werewolf!”
“I am not,” she roared, lunging out of her seatbelt and snarling at him, teeth bared, a growl rising in her throat. Tonight was the actual full moon. If he didn’t stop antagonizing her, she’d rip his goddamn throat out for real.
Finn didn’t even flinch. He calmly indicated to the right and turned off the main road into what looked like a picnic area. It was totally deserted, the gray skies and the rain keeping everyone else away.
Sofie swung her face away to the window so he wouldn’t see her werewolf’s muzzle, the elongation of her nose and mouth, the distortion of her jaw. The long, jagged teeth.
She fought the fur rising on her face, fought it to the back of her neck, but she hadn’t rearranged her face when Finn grabbed her deformed jaw and swung her around to face him.
She didn’t have time to yelp, or to bite, or to do anything. His sharp brown eyes were on hers, pinning her gaze to his, and she couldn’t move.
“This,” he said, shaking her jaw for effect, his voice fierce, “this is not human. This is were. I don’t know what happened to you, what stories you’ve been told or what you’ve come to believe, but werewolves are real. You’re one of them. I know what I saw last night, I know what I felt, and I damn well know what I’m seeing now. You, Sofie Angeletti, are a werewolf.”
The growl in her throat rose.
There’s no such thing --
With a snarl she broke away from him, shoved the car door open, and leapt into the rain. The gravel crunched beneath her feet and she wanted to run, wanted to drop to all fours and feel the stones beneath her bare paws.
But Finn caught her, moving incredibly fast, and spun her around.
“Let go of me,” she growled, her voice low, her words slurred.
“No,” Finn said, and his grip on her arms was like iron. She snarled at him, but he didn’t move. “You’re not going to intimidate me, Sofie. You can rip me to shreds if you like. I’ll heal. But you’ll still be a werewolf.”
“I’m not --”
“Say it! Say you’re a werewolf, and I’ll let you go.”
“I could kill you,” she growled.
“No, you couldn’t. Say it, Sofie.”
She tried to pry his hands from her arms, but she couldn’t, because her hands had turned into paws.
Paws.
Her eyes closed. Her jaw was lengthened into a muzzle, her hands had pads and claws, and she could feel her ears growing into points.
“Fine,” she gritted. “I’m a fucking werewolf.”
Finn’s hands relaxed and Sofie wrenched away, working hard to return her features to normal, but he caught her more gently this time, and watched her face realigning.
“You’re a werewolf,” he said, but he didn’t sound disgusted by the disfigurement in front of him. He sounded fascinated. He looked delighted. “You’re a bloody werewolf!”
When he kissed her, she was already half expecting it. But this wasn’t
a soft, gentle kiss like it had been that morning in bed. It was mad, and passionate, and as stormy as the weather around them. Rain pounded down on them both as he gripped her jaw, still realigning itself, and her fingers dug into his shoulders through his jacket.
Just like last night, she was angry, but she didn’t know who with. And she was relieved. And she was scared. She was boiling over with it all, shaking and desperate with it, but kissing Finn like this, touching him, pressing her wet body to his, somehow it was an outlet for everything raging through her.
The police officer in her was horrified that she was making out with someone she’d known for two days, in a public area, but the police officer was currently being mauled to death by the big bad wolf, who was most definitely in charge. Her heart was hammering, blood was rushing in her veins, and every cell in her body throbbed with vitality.
She wanted him.
She ripped at Finn’s wet leather jacket, tugging it down over his shoulders and throwing it to the ground. He glanced at it, then at her, and a smile hooked up one side of his mouth. He scooped up the jacket, threw it in the car, then stepped backwards, away from the gravel and the road and toward the small wood where the picnic tables lay, shielded from the road.
Sofie growled in frustration that he was leaving her, but then he winked, and made a beckoning motion with his hands, and she leapt after him, her momentum flooring him. The two of them landed on the wet grass, the rain pounding down on them, and Finn broke out laughing.
She stopped his mouth with her own, then sat up and peeled off her own coat. His hands slid over her waist, caressing her through her damp t-shirt, and she pulled that off too.
She was naked under it, Finn having neglected to buy her a bra. This time it was he who growled as he cupped her breasts, touching them the way he had before, stroking her until she could hardly breathe. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his hands, wanting more, demanding it.
And Finn gave it. He pushed her onto her back and bent his head to suck her nipple into his mouth while his hands unfastened her jeans. She wasn’t wearing anything under them either, a fact Finn joyously confirmed when he slid his hand between her legs and made contact with her burning, slippery wet flesh.
His tongue circled her nipple. Sofie thought she might die from the pleasure of that alone, her hands clawing at his back as he suckled her tight, aching flesh, moving from one nipple to the other when the ache got unbearable.
And his hand! Oh God, his hand. His fingers caressed her delicate folds, making her shudder with wanting before he finally slipped inside and stroked her where she wanted it, where she needed it.
Sofie heard a high-pitched, keening growl, and realized it was coming from her. She grabbed feverishly at Finn’s clothes, yanking his t-shirt out from his jeans, shoving it further up his back, desperate to feel him against her.
Finn obliged by pulling back and jerking the shirt over his head. She mourned the loss of his hand and his mouth, but he put the interruption to further good use by tugging down her jeans and baring her body to the wet grass, the rain, and his eyes.
She wasn’t uncomfortable. She was an animal in the open air, and the way Finn was looking at her, his lips parted and his eyes dark, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
She grabbed him and pulled him back against her, his bare chest against hers and his jeans rubbing an insanely good friction against her legs. She wrapped them around his waist, feeling the hard bulge of his erection press against her pussy. This morning she’d felt the real thing, no denim in the way, and she wanted to feel it again.
But Finn had other ideas -- again. He licked and kissed and bit his way down her neck, sucking first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth before continuing down, nipping the soft skin of her belly and making the heat coil tighter inside her in a way it never had before.
She’d never burned like this before. Never felt this wild need to touch someone. To be touched.
When Finn’s tongue licked a long path from one end of her pussy to the other, Sofie howled into the rain.
His hands lifted her buttocks -- the buttocks he’d so admired earlier -- so he could access more of her with his mouth. And he accessed all of her. With his fingers and his tongue, he found every sensitive spot she never knew she had. His thumb rubbed her labia, swollen and puffy now from his attentions, while his tongue stabbed inside her. Sofie thought she might die from it.
Her feet planted flat against the muddy ground, she pushed herself against him. She’d never been so wanton in her life. But Finn had flicked a switch inside her when he forced those words from her. There was no hiding from him now. There probably never had been.
Now his tongue was circling her clit, his fingers pushing inside her, and Sofie was sobbing with the pleasure of it. The tension that had been spiraling tighter and harder inside her burned hotter, brighter, until she almost couldn’t bear it any more. She was burning up. She was about to break.
Then with a flick of his fingers somewhere inside her and a scrape of his teeth against her clit, she did break, her whole body shattering into pieces, a scream torn from her throat. Finn kept licking, sucking, thrusting, pulling more pleasure from her, playing her like a taut string until she finally collapsed, limp and helpless, every muscle in her body totally useless.
Rain spattered her face, the ultra-sensitive tips of her breasts, her stomach. She lay there and stared at the sky, dazed.
What felt like hours later, she became aware of Finn lying beside her. She turned her head, saw him watching her, and attempted a wave.
She failed. Finn smiled, caught her limp hand, and kissed it.
“That was,” she began. “That was… I don’t know what the hell that was.”
He laughed. “It was something I want to do again,” he said, and she couldn’t help but agree.
Then something occurred to her, and she raised herself up on her elbows, strength returning. He was shirtless, but still wearing his jeans. Still fastened. Still with a large bulge in them.
“You’re not -- you didn’t…”
He glanced down to the bulge in question. “No, I’m not. And I didn’t.”
She swallowed, suddenly on less sure ground. “I, uh…”
He smiled and took her nervous hand. “You don’t have to do anything,” he said.
“But you did. For me.”
Her face was burning. Why? This man had just had his face between her legs. Why on earth was she embarrassed now?
She took her hand from his and ran it down his bare stomach, feeling the muscles jump under his skin. Where her body felt like liquid, hot and relaxed, his was all tension. He probably needed the release as badly as she had, but where she’d been clawing and screaming like an animal, he was behaving like a civilized person.
Well, she was an animal. From today, she was a werewolf.
Sofie carefully unfastened Finn’s jeans and his cock sprang out to greet her. Large, dark, and extremely hard, it made her breath catch in her throat. Moisture seeped from the end and she ran her finger over it, fascinated.
Finn sucked in his breath, and she glanced at his face to see his jaw clenched tight, his eyes riveted on her hand. Smiling, realizing the power she had over him now, Sofie ran her fingers down the length of his cock, then back up again.
“Tell me what you like,” she said.
“That,” he replied immediately, and she laughed.
“Just this?”
“No. Yes. Everything, all of it. I like it all.”
All? Well, she wasn’t sure if she was up to that, but she could try her hand at it. So to speak. Wrapping her fingers around his length, she stroked gently up and down, marveling at the feel of him in her palm. Skin so soft and smooth, stretched tight over the hard, turgid length of him.
She explored him, assured by the sharp breaths he inhaled and the way he bucked into her hands that he was enjoying what she did. She stroked her hands up and down his shaft, swirled her fingers
around the thick head, caressed his balls with her fingertips.
…you’re more than welcome to lick them…
She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for that, but she paid special attention to them when the sounds he was making told her he enjoyed what she was doing. A lot.
“Sofie,” he said, his voice ragged.
“Yes?” She was still fascinated by the way his cock moved, apparently of its own accord, and how her caresses were controlling his whole body.
“I think… I… I’m going to --”
She glanced up at him, and she second she met his eyes his cock jerked in her hands and he came, exploding into her hands.
“I think so too,” she said, and was rewarded by seeing him look just as dazed as she’d been ten minutes ago.
Chapter Eight
Clearly, all Sofie’s colleagues knew something was up. Every one they passed gave her either a sympathetic look, or a badly-hidden snigger. Sofie smiled at the sympathetic ones and gave the sniggerers the sort of look that ought to count as an illegal weapon.
Finn followed along behind her, watching them all and trying to work out just how much trouble she was in because of him.
“Sof,” he caught the sleeve of her coat, “look, if you’re going to be in trouble --”
“I’m pretty sure I am,” she said, and gave a man with red hair a glare so steely he went slightly gray.
“Well, that’s my fault,” Finn said. “I really shouldn’t have made you come with me all the way to Dresden, but I figured there wouldn’t be too many vampires there, you know, they tend to like ancient places and --”
“It’s fine, Finn,” she said, and gave him a calm smile.
A warm smile.
A smile that made him stumble.
Damn, she was beautiful. Since he’d made love to her in the woods -- not as fully as he’d have liked, but they had been in a public place after all -- she’d changed, become quiet and calm. She seemed to have spent most of the car journey thinking deeply about something.
Well, she had a lot to think about. For most of her life she’d been denying a huge chunk of her nature. Now she was acknowledging it, things were bound to change.