by Stone, Wendy
He was talking to Joe when she came into the room, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt with a hood and jeans that fit her curves very well. No one would mistake her for a boy with her ass highlighted the way it was. He could barely keep his eyes off it himself.
“We have to go, Joe.”
“I know.” Joseph reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of bills. “Take this. You can pay me back when you get home.”
Brady took the money, stashing it in the front pocket of his jeans. “You be careful,” he told his old friend. “When this one doesn’t report in, they could come looking for him.”
“Don’t worry about me. I have some tricks left from when we used to play cops and bad guys when we were kids.” He reached out for his friend, pulling him into a hard hug. “You just make sure you get back here safe.”
He hugged Molly. “I’m a priest, I believe in God and I believe in good. You’re good,” he whispered into her ear. “Take care of him for me.”
She nodded, returning his hug just as fiercely. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask.” He let her go and handed her a flashlight. “My car is in the garage. The keys are on the dash. I did a sweep around the church and didn’t see any more of these guys. You should be able to get from the church to the garage safely. If not, I left your car over on Elm Street, just behind the big storage tank.”
“Thanks Joe,” Brady said once more. He took Molly’s hand and the other flashlight and headed down into the tunnel.
Chapter Six
The beam from the flashlights tore through the blackness, showing the ripped cobwebs and their angry residents. Molly passed by the spiders as if they weren’t there, reaching up once to pull a sticky strand of web from her hair.
“Where are we heading?” she asked quietly. Everything she’d just been through, the lovemaking, being captured, the change and the cattle prod, was finally taking its toll on her.
“Out of here,” Brady said, laying his hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “We’ll get the car and take off, north to Wolverine. I don’t think they’ll expect us to come to them.”
She turned suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. “Thank you, Brady. No matter what happens next, you’ve repaired some of my faith in humans.”
“We’re not all bad,” he teased. Pulling her into a one-armed embrace, he settled the pack that Joe had given him a little easier on his shoulder. “Come on. We still have to get out of the church.”
Above them, as if in reaction to his words, a rumble of thunder sounded, starting out soft and growing as it growled into the night. Brady laughed, though it sounded a bit nervous. “Think Joe had a hand in that?” he teased.
“Depends,” she shot back. “When was the last time you were in church?”
“Ha ha, funny,” he said. They reached the end of the tunnel and Brady went first while she held the flashlight, shining it at the trapdoor above his head. He pushed it open slowly, peeking out before pushing it all the way open.
“Give me my light,” he said, reaching down for it. He hoisted himself through the door, shining the light around the room. “Come on up,” he whispered loudly to her.
She shimmied up the ladder, pulling herself through the door and then looking around the room. It was some kind of store room. The trap door had an old fashioned braided rag rug glued to the top, hiding it from being noticed.
Brady closed the trap door, setting it quietly on its stops. He slid his hand down her arm, finding her hand and closing his own warmly around it. “Ready?”
Molly nodded, smiling gamely. “I am, if you are,” she said, her voice quivering a bit.
“It’ll be okay, Molly. I promise.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” Taking her free hand, she pushed it through her hair, shaking it back so that it was out of her face. Her eyes moved around the room, studying the different objects sorted onto the shelves. “Let’s get out of here. This place makes me nervous.”
He snorted. “I thought it was vampires that hated crosses.”
“It is,” she said, tugging on his hand to get him moving. “But it’s crucifixes they hate. Anybody can make a cross. A crucifix is something that has been blessed. It’s the blessing and the belief in that blessing from the holder that makes it so dangerous to the undead.”
Brady gave her a strange look, stopping at the door to listen before opening it. They found a set of stairs, climbing up them to another door. “You can’t mean to tell me that there are actually vampires, for real vampires, out there somewhere.”
“Let me see, you can do magic, I can do magic and change into a wolf, and you’re having problems believing in vampires. Is there something wrong with this picture?”
“Okay, you got a point, but... come on, real, blood-sucking, night-walking vampires?”
Molly was about to answer when something caught her attention. She grabbed Brady just as he was about to open the door that led from the church to the parking lot outside. Yanking him back, she pushed him into the shadows of the hallway, flattening herself against him. “Shh,” she whispered.
Brady turned his head, staring out the window in the door just in time to see another of the darkly garbed henchmen walk by, stopping to rattle the knob. When he found it locked, he moved slowly past, picking up his walkie-talkie.
“That was close,” Molly breathed, looking up at him.
“You can say that again,” he said, glancing down at her. He dropped his head and kissed her when she opened her mouth. “I didn’t mean you had to say it again,” he teased when he lifted his head.
“I wasn’t going to. How are we going to get past him?”
“Magic,” Brady said, smiling. “I need to borrow your back.”
“You need to what?”
“Just turn around and watch our friend out there.” He pushed her close to the door, trying to keep her as much in the shadow as possible. Staring out the window, he took a deep breath and concentrated on the man whose back was to them. He used one finger, trailing it over Molly’s back as he had the table cloth in the restaurant. Was it only yesterday?
* * * *
Harold Fredrickson had been working for the Department of Paranormal Research for over ten years. The DPR had become like his second home. He’d do anything for the founder, Dr. William Parnell, especially since Dr. Parnell occasionally turned a blind eye when it came to some of the more “exotic” of the female animals. As long as his test subjects were still able to stand, he’d let Harold and some of his buddies cash in on a perk or two.
Harold smiled, thinking of a couple nights before and the little red head, Tallie. Now that was a prime piece of ass if he’d ever seen one. Turning on the special buffing system that Dr. Parnell had devised kept the little bitch from changing into a wolf. She’d been an easy target, doped on Ketamine; she’d barely been able to lift her head.
He smiled, lost in thoughts of how that soft mouth had felt around his cock, her tears dripping on his upper thighs. Then he felt it. It was like someone had brushed a finger across the back of his neck, sending a chill down his spine.
Twirling, he raked the area with his eyes, the barrel of his nine millimeter following the path his eyes took. “Who’s there?”
His eyes tracked through every shadow and over the side of the church but he didn’t see anything. “I’m imagining things,” he growled, dropping the arm that held the pistol. “Musta just been remembering that little bitch and it gave me a chill.” He smiled to himself. He liked redheads. He liked them even more when that red hair covered their pussies. There was just something about white skin with that whorish red curls covering their cunts that turned him on. Harold turned, about to continue around the church when he felt it again.
Someone grabbed my ass!
“Who’s there?” he shouted, turning quickly and lifting his pistol. “I know you’re there, come out where I can see you!” His eyes examined every aspect of the parking lot, falling on the ornate iron gate that opened i
nto the cemetery. “Fuck,” he breathed. “No, I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Picking up his walkie-talkie, he was about to call in, to report what was going on, when he felt it again. This time his belt was being undone, the button on his camouflage pants opening and his zipper slowly tracking down. Harold screeched, almost dropping his pistol as he reached for his pants, holding them up as he felt a definite tugging on them.
“Stop it!” he yelled. “I don’t believe in ghosts!” His walkie-talkie picked that minute to squawk, scaring him enough that he dropped it onto the cement. It broke open, pieces scattering. “Fuck!” he shouted. “I don’t believe in you, you hear me! I don’t believe in you!”
There was a popping noise and Harold watched in disbelief as his hunting knife was drawn slowly from its sheath, rising through the empty air to dance in front of him.
“Oh God, Oh God!” Harold whispered, his eyes locked on the moving blade. He lifted his pistol, shooting wildly at the knife, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly on the pavement before burying themselves into the grass by the cemetery gate. He unloaded the clip, finally throwing his pistol at the still dancing knife. He screamed and ran.
* * * *
“He screams like a little girl,” Molly gasped between gurgles of laughter. “You’ve got to teach me that trick sometime.”
“And give away all my secrets?” Brady chuckled. “I don’t think so. Besides, it wouldn’t be as much fun when I do this if you know how to do it too.” He circled his finger against his palm, hearing Molly gasp again and then moan as her nipple contracted against his touch.
“You’re evil,” she said, reaching out and slapping at his hand. “Stop it. We’ve got to go now that you’ve freaked out the big bad army-type guy.”
“I just wish he hadn’t broken his walkie-talkie. It would have been nice to be able to listen in on what they’re saying.” He went to the door, checking the parking lot again before slowly opening it and slipping through. Molly followed immediately behind him.
Closing it softly, he drew a circle over the door lock, smiling as he heard it click back into place. Then he reached down and grabbed Molly’s hand. “We’re going for my car,” he whispered.
They stayed in the shadows, flitting from one to the other. The storm that had been threatening all evening finally broke, drenching them before they could reach Brady’s car. Molly was shivering, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to stay warm.
“You don’t have the keys, do you?” she asked as she shivered.
“Keys aren’t really necessary.” He popped the lock with a quick move of his finger and then reached out and opened the door to let her in. Molly leaned across the seat, opened his door for him, and then curled into a ball on her seat.
Brady turned the ignition with a wave of his hand. Leaving his lights off, he turned up the heat and then put it into drive.
“Can you do that with anything?” she asked.
“No,” he said, glancing over and smiling at her. “I have to be able to picture in my mind what I want to happen. If I didn’t know how this ignition worked or how the door locks worked, I couldn’t do it.”
“So any machine that you can picture in your head, you can work? What about an ATM machine?”
“That’s illegal, but yeah, I could probably figure it out.”
“Bank vaults?”
“Molly...” he said, the tone of his voice conveying a warning.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought of it.”
“I’ve thought of it.” He drove down the street, his eyes cutting through the dark curtain of rain, watching for signs that anyone was following them. “I wouldn’t do it though.”
“Neither would I,” Molly sighed. “Damned honesty.”
Brady chuckled. “Why don’t you change into some dry clothes?”
“Promise not to look?” she teased, grabbing the pack from the floorboards at her feet.
“I’m a gentleman,” he protested. “But hell no, I won’t promise not to look.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her smile.
Molly climbed into the back seat and fished out the clothes Father Joseph had thrust at them. Pulling off the wet sweatshirt, she left it off as she fiddled with her jeans. She could see Brady’s eyes in the rearview mirror, staring at her. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. Instead, it was from the fire that shone in his eyes. Vivid red in the chocolate irises. Just that look caused her nipples to contract and create a rush of wetness that had nothing to do with the rain still pouring down outside.
“If you keep staring at me like that, we aren’t going to make it to Wolverine tonight.”
“Would that bother you?” he rasped, his tongue slicking over his top lip as if he were tasting her already.
“God no,” she breathed. “But it might bother you if we end up in a car accident.”
“I’m a different kind of man,” he said, glancing at the road and then back to her. “I can chew gum and walk at the same time.”
Molly chuckled, a deep husky sound, running the flat of her palms from her waistband up and over her ribs to her breasts. Cupping the soft mounds in her hands, she lifted them, squeezing gently. A soft moan escaped her lips, hanging in the air between them as an invitation.
“Damn,” Brady twisted the steering wheel, swerving as a horn blared. Another car barreled past them, a car that Brady almost sideswiped. The driver flipped Brady off, shouting something obscene.
“So much for multitasking,” Molly laughed.
Brady flushed, but his eyes raked over her. “Then maybe you should get dressed and quit tempting me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She laughed as he growled then watched his eyes in the mirror as her hands went to her waistband. “Okay then, I’ll just change my clothes.”
The snap opened easily, the zipper sliding down the wet material. She struggled with the denim material. It clung to her skin, cold and wet. She managed to get the material over her hips, the wet panties coming off along with the jeans.
Pulling off her shoes, she pushed the soaked denim off of her feet, sitting back in the seat. She knew Brady was still watching her. Her hair was a soaked mass of tendrils that clung to her skin. She reached up, pulling the heavy mess of it off of her neck and twisting it.
“You couldn’t conjure me up a hair clip, could you?” she asked, teasing him and making him look in the rearview mirror again.
“I wouldn’t if I could. Your hair is too pretty to be kept up.”
He melted her heart, that was all there was to it. She’d been more than attracted to him when she’d first run in to him, back when he was in college. Now, after making love with him, he was going to be very hard to forget.
Wolves could be very promiscuous. At least they could until they were mated. A wolf mates for life, even a half-wolf like Molly. She’d heard of wolves that had mated even though they truly did not love one another. Their lives were living hell, especially if one or the other found their true life mate after the mating. Molly had been very careful to stay away from that kind of commitment. She’d seen what it had done to others. She wanted more; she wanted what her parents had.
Stretching once more, she reached into the bag of clothes and pulled out the change of clothing Father Joe had picked for her. She would have to hang up the wet ones to dry until they could get other clothes. Pulling the dress over her head, she decided to forego underwear, picking up a short jacket to wear over the short-sleeved, scoop-necked dress. It was blue and green flowers on a soft off-white background and was very pretty. The skirt fell to about halfway down her slender thighs.
Grabbing her shoes, she climbed back in the front seat. “Much better.”
“Yeah, I’d say. Anybody ever tell you that you look incredible in a dress?”
Molly fiddled with her necklace, moving the pentagram across the thin gold chain. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
“You look absolutely incredible in a dress. Edi
ble even,” he teased, letting his hand rest on her bare knee and running it slowly up her leg.
Molly leaned over, dropping a soft kiss to the skin just under his ear. “Thank you,” she said, parting her legs. His long fingers stroked over the soft flesh of her inner thighs before moving higher and resting against the russet-colored curls.
She shivered as he teased her with light touches, never going where she desperately wanted him to touch. “Mmm,” she moaned. “Brady, don’t tease me.”
“What do you think you were doing to me back there? Revenge is a bitch, baby,” he quipped, tracing slow circles on the swollen lips of her sex. His fingers felt cool and tantalizingly hard, making her realize how empty she felt.
“I want you to fuck me,” she groaned. “I shouldn’t want this, I shouldn’t be so forward about it. You’re engaged to be married and I’ve made you break your vows to her.” She grabbed his wrist with desperate hands. “I... you should stop, Brady.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
She moaned again as he pressed one finger, sinking into her heat and wetness. His finger swiped down her slit, gathering her natural lubrication and trailing it over her clit, making her jump in reaction. “But you should want to,” she groaned. “What about your fiancée?”
It was almost as if he were rebelling against the thought. His finger circled her clit and he resisted her every move to pull him from her flesh. When he pushed one and then two fingers inside of her, she thought she’d go up in flames.
Molly moved her hips against the seat, tiny gasping cries coming from her lips. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, no longer pushing him away but keeping him there. Her other hand was grasped around the door handle, holding on for all she could as he drove her crazy with the thrusts of his fingers.
“I’m going to come on this seat,” she breathed, her hips rocking hard against his hand.
Red and blue lights filled the back window of the car, making Brady curse. Molly’s eyes opened, a look of near pain upon her face. Slowly, regretfully, he pulled his hand away from her, hearing her hiss of frustration at the interruption.