by Danae Ayusso
Varg glared at him. “Why the concern of Eve’s location?” he demanded.
“Well,” Connell started, pushing his hair back from his eyes, trying to push the thought of Akia doing this from his mind, “cause of death points towards our little sister’s questionable wolf-side: the heart was removed.”
****
Softly Akia moaned and sluggishly blinked, trying to clear the haze from her mind. It was freezing in the basement. It usually was, but she was overly hot from the body stretched out the length of hers from behind. One of Damian’s arms was wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him, holding her protectively to him, while she used his other arm as a pillow. It had been a long time since she’d woken up from a lunar cycle feeling rested instead of drained, and only her shoulders and hips were sore; most likely it was her body that bent the bars outward so that was to be expected.
What wasn’t expected was Damian.
For the first time in her life, when Eve was present, Akia was able to catch glimpses of what was happening. It shouldn’t have been possible, but considering Damian was involved it made sense. There was no mistaking that Eve didn’t like him in the least, and when he refused to play her game and kept a level head, soft tone and showed saint-like patience, it caused Eve’s hold to wavier, and Akia caught a glimpse through her eyes. Each softly spoken, reassuring word that left his sexy mouth caused more of Akia to surface, and for the first time in her life, she believed that she might indeed be stronger than the wolf.
Contently she sighed and snuggled back into his strong form even more and smiled when his instantaneous arousal stabbed into her backside. The black moon, the extra new moon in the month, fell on the peak of her estrous cycle, which she thought was a bad omen, one that Damian rolled his eyes about when she pouted about the approaching lunar event. It was as if he knew what her qualm was, as usual, and was trying to reassure her that everything would be okay.
Damian Nikas was the extremely annoyingly reassuring type.
The primal urge to consummate in a raw, sexually charged mating every cycle, every seven months like clockwork thanks to the medication cocktail that Connell had perfected, nearly made it impossible for Akia to think of anything else when it peaked. It was an inconvenience in Akia’s life, but one that Damian made tolerable with his ability to seemingly sense when her cycle was at its pinnacle and selflessly offered her an outlet for a sexual release. As much as she hated that, she needed someone, especially for something so extremely private and primal that she had no control over. She loved that it was Damian who seemingly answered her body’s silent call, and she could never thank him enough for it…
Now she just needed the words to leave her lips.
After Akia’s first cycle, she never thought she’d be able to handle that type of compromising situation again, but Damian made it a mind blowing, physical mating between two strong, independent creatures. The first night they met, she was trying to drink away the urge to have aggressive, animalistic sex with the first man that caught her eye—it had worked before in the past—but when Damian walked into the bar, a scowl on his face and hair matted to his head from walking in the rain while trying to clear his head, the primal side took control, and she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone before. When another female whispered to her drunken friends that he would be coming home with her tonight, he just didn’t know it yet, possessiveness flared in Akia, nearly bringing Eve to the surface. She followed the skanky blonde to the bathroom when she went to freshen up before pouncing on her unknowing target. Akia slammed her head into the tile wall then hid her unconscious body in the electrical closet.
Nervous, scared, and not entirely sure what to do, and terrified that he wouldn’t stop if he agreed to be that outlet, Akia lost the battle of fear over need and joined him at the bar. Without a word, she motioned for another round for him and one of whatever he was drinking for her, then to leave the bottle. They sat in silence, well after last call, neither saying anything or looking at the other, but her wolf was hyperaware of the man next to her. On a subconscious level she had to have known that Damian was a werewolf and had an insatiable wolf inside just as she did, but her rational minded side refused to entertain the childish hope and dangerous notion. When the bottle was empty, she tossed some money on the bar then stood. ‘You’re coming home with me tonight, so get your jacket,’ Akia heard herself saying before she realized it, and to her surprise, he nodded and joined her, and the rest was history.
A deep moan of satisfaction vibrated Akia’s throat, and an intense heat of arousal pooled between her legs.
Damian softly growled under his breath before nuzzling against the side of her neck. “Are you actually awake or are you simply torturing me in your sleep again?” he grumbled, sleepily.
“If I say yes will I get a spanking?” she whispered with a giggle.
“No need to lie for a spanking,” he reminded her before kissing behind her ear. “How are you feeling? Does your wolf still speak to you or is she contained?”
She made a face, even though he couldn’t see it. “She’s caged, more so than the one we’re in. I know there was another body.”
He nodded. “Most likely, and you are well aware that there was nothing we could have done to prevent it. The territory is too vast and his scent has been too scarce on the bodies for even our noses to pick up.”
“I’m well aware of that, but it doesn’t make it easier to accept… Thank you for staying with me last night,” she said. “I wish you wouldn’t have. I never wanted you to see that side of me, regardless of you being a werewolf as well, but I appreciate it.”
Damian rolled Akia over to her back then slid up on top of her, splitting her knees then positioned himself between them. Tenderly he caressed her head, his eyes moving over her face many times. “You are a very complicated creature, Latria Mou,” he eventually said. “The things you are hell bent on struggling with alone is infuriating as your, I believe you called it, mate.”
Akia groaned. “Shut up. That was a slip of the tongue.”
“But it was a slip because you feel that way,” he said, hoping it was true.
She sighed. “Yes, I suppose it was,” she admitted, and he smiled wide. “Don’t go getting a big head over it.”
He leaned down and caressed her lips with his. “It isn’t a revelation,” he whispered, pulling back when she tried to deepen the kiss. “I’ve always known how you feel. Those beautiful lips of yours don’t need to speak the words in order for me to hear them. I always hear you, Latria Mou, even when you don’t make a sound.”
Akia nodded, trying to keep the tears flooding her eyes from falling; that admittance meant much more to her than he would ever know, and caused what was left of her stubborn will to crumble. She rolled them over, pinning his arms above his head then aggressively attacked his mouth with hers. She slid down his strong, muscular body until his cock brushed against the dampness between her legs.
“Look at me,” Damian demanded.
When their eyes met she smirked; he liked to look at her when they made love.
“May I have the honor and privilege?” he asked.
Instead of answering, she slammed her hips down and he entered her fully, his hips rising to meet her with a driving thrust. A shiver raced across her skin as her moist sheath tightened around his cock, causing him to hiss. A content moan rolled from the base of her throat when Damian continued to lift his hips to meet her, sinking himself into her, again and again, setting a tempo that might break him, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to go.
****
Those gathered in the living room turned to regard the sound coming from the barred cellar door tucked away behind the staircase.
Varg snarled before storming out of the room, the back screen door smashing against the house so hard that it splintered and broke free from the hinges in the process.
“Are they doing what I think they’re doing?” Ulrik asked, vacuuming up the blue and black
hair he had gotten all over the Oriental rug.
Connell nodded and returned his attention to the preliminary report on the sixth victim in his hands. “She’s in heat. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”
He gave him a look, turning the vacuum off. “Ew, that’s nasty. Why would I want to know if she’s on the rag or not?”
Louvel shook his head. “Not menstruating…I do not think. Doctor?”
Connell rolled his eyes. “I have to agree with Kid; I don’t want to think about my baby sister’s cycle. It’s bad enough that I’m her damn doctor, and we’ve had some extremely awkward talks and exams, but I’m guessing that Kid is too young to pick up on it, as of yet. It’s nothing that noticeable unless you’re older, and even then it isn’t something that screams out to fuck your sister. It’s just a subtle change in her scent. Nothing major,” he said, trying to explain it in a means that wouldn’t get lost in translation or compromise his sister’s trust in him. “Internally though, for her, it’s another story. From what she said, there is an uncontrollable urge within her. Think of it as needing to run, only instead of running she needs to get laid. They’ll be completely useless to us for the next eight hours… At least that was how long she said they were going at it with her last three cycles.”
Ulrik scratched his head. “Eight hours of what?” he asked the obvious since there was no way his brother was saying what the young man thought he was hinting at.
Connell looked up from the file and smirked. “Eight hours of going at it like hot and horny dogs in heat, imagine that. I might have to give Damian a Vitamin-B shot or two. I prescribed it to Akia for her outlet since that’s a marathon fuck session even for a werewolf. Fae will need to whip up some carb heavy food and bring it down in a couple of hours with a case of bottled water.”
The young man looked back to the cellar door, his eyes wide. “Dude, that can’t be normal. I mean, those commercials on the television say to seek medical attention if an erection last more than four hours. There has to be a reason for that type of warning, right?”
“Not a conversation I am in the mood to have with you right now, Kid,” Connell said, returning to his report. “Why don’t you go wake Ginger Bear and let him know that he’ll be needed in the kitchen.”
Ulrik groaned then sulked towards the door.
“Boy, put some pants on,” Louvel scolded.
“Why is everyone so concerned with me swinging in the breeze?!” Ulrik complained, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, not so discretely pelvic thrusting so he’d swing even more.
Louvel shook his head with a chuckle; the blue haired young man truly was amusing in ways that should be criminal.
“Just because we have company, another werewolf here, doesn’t mean that I should have to put pants on,” Ulrik whined. “Connie isn’t wearing clothes, and in my non-professional opinion, the risk of paper cuts to his mangina is great,” he sneered before sulking up the stairs to his room.
Beowulf shook his head, joining them from the library.
“I am scared to ask,” Louvel said, “but what is a mangina?”
“Man-vagina,” Connell said, kicking his legs out and rested his feet on an ottoman.
Louvel shook his head; he knew better than to ask.
“Kid has a point,” Beowulf said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “It is one thing to run around naked in nature or the yard, but sitting naked while writing a report on a leather couch that company uses, and your brothers on occasion when they pass out from drinking too much, is a bit disturbing.”
Connell smirked but didn’t say anything; the latter was the reason he was sitting comfortably nude with company in the house.
“That is disgusting,” Beowulf scolded with a chuckle. “The scent you reeked of is unknown to us,” he continued once Ulrik was outside, complaining loudly as he went, and Seff closed the door behind him. “When the two preoccupied in the basement have concluded their… Can you please put something on?” he groaned.
Louvel chuckled and went over to the record player and hit the switch.
When Maria Callas singing Giacomo Puccini’s O Mio Babbino Caro started playing, Beowulf nodded his thanks; listening to his daughter have sex was the last thing he wanted to listen to.
“What changed?” Louvel asked. “This latest victim, it is greatly different from the others, yes?”
Connell made a face. “The others didn’t have their hearts ripped out,” he stated the obvious. “Other than the obvious, it doesn’t feel right. There is something… I really wish the two in the basement weren’t humping like dogs in heat, I really do. It’s as if we’re dealing with an entirely different perp now.”
Seff joined them with a pile of books in hand. “I’m in agreement with you,” he said. “The latest, it is as if the Stray was pissed and just killed to kill because the Lead in the case said that he would.”
That was exactly how it appeared to Connell as well.
The latest victim wasn’t dumped in water; he was left in a parking lot next to a truck. The only damage was to the ribcage from the removal of the heart. The precision suggests that it was done by a clawed hand, something that he wasn’t aware was even possible.
“I think we’re dealing with an Apprentice and Master,” Connell eventually said. “Perhaps the first kill was accidental like Sis thinks, and the second was his confirmation phase, the third was discovery, but the fourth was refined with the skill that only a Master would have. If I didn’t know any better…” his words trailed off when the front door opened.
Beowulf nodded his understanding.
Ulrik came running in the house, taking the stairs three at a time without slowing, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
Faelan chuckled, strolling into the house, closing the door. “Good morning,” he greeted with a lazy smile, his eyes half-mast, and the smell of whiskey rolling from him. “I don’t know why he doesn’t like to hug it out when in the buff. It’s stimulating for all heads involved,” he said with a chuckle.
When the others didn’t laugh, he looked at them curiously.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Another body,” Connell said.
Faelan scratched his head with one hand and his hairy chest with the other. “I thought that was to be expected?” he asked, confused.
“Heart ripped from the chest,” Seff said.
“Eve?” he asked the obvious.
“Never left the cell,” Louvel said.
“If it wasn’t Eve, and we knew there would be another body on the black moon, why the somber looks?” Faelan asked, unsure as to why the tension in the manor was so thick that you could cut it with a spoon. “What am I apparently too hung over to grasp?”
Beowulf shook his head, not entirely sure how to address the situation. “The Stray turned into an Apprentice when a Master apparently sought him out,” he said.
Faelan cocked an eyebrow. “In Haven?” he scoffed. “How in the hell would a Master have come across a Stray in Haven of all places without us knowing it?”
“Not all have crossed our paths,” Seff reminded him. “We don’t travel the country or world, not even our territory, simply to track down Strays. Our pack is not big enough, nor do we care enough, in order to do that. Remember, Fae, it isn’t our job to protect humans from our kind. It’s our job to protect the pack from them. Protect the pack at all costs.”
Connell made a mocking face; he’d heard Seff’s fuck everyone but the pack speech for decades and had never been one to completely agree with it or that attitude.
“That is enough,” Beowulf scolded. “Fae, can you please shower, get dressed, stop harassing Kid, and make something high in carbohydrates for the two in the basement? From what her doctor has suggested, they will be indisposed for the next,” he looked at his watch, “seven hours-twenty-three minutes.”
Faelan gave them a look. “What are they doing down there?”
“Having animalistic sex,” Connell sa
id, as if it were obvious. “I think we need Damian’s nose on this one. His pack is much, much bigger and more connected than ours, so he might be able to identify the new scent. Dad, Lou and Little Black Hitler, please go through the records for any similar Modus Operandi; similar progression of kills and rapid refinement of them, body counts might vary so look beyond that. Also, if they were caught, contained, or neutralized doesn’t matter… Holy shit, I sound like my baby sister,” he groaned the latter, just then realizing it. “I am totally kicking her ass for this one. I’m a half-ass doctor, a bored medical examiner, not a damn cop.”
Faelan shook his head, heading for the stairs. “Connie, wasn’t it you who introduced little sister to Sherlock Holmes?” he teased.
Connell flipped him off.
“Never mind him, Son,” Beowulf said with a small smile, trying to hide the pride flooding him because his son was finally stepping up and taking control of the situation like a mature adult. “Sherlock Holmes was my favorite as well. Louvel, Seff, join me in the library,” he said, and got to his feet. “Son, put some pants on and join us. We have a little over seven hours before the two experts join us, so that gives us time to compile what we can in order to make their job easier.”
They nodded their understanding.
“How’s your ass?” Akia asked as she pulled a shirt over her head, watching Damian dry off with a towel after a long, stimulating shower, before fastening her necklace around her neck, tucking it under the collar of her shirt so the pendant rested between her breasts.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll live. Those needles get bigger and bigger every time. I swear you’re trying to kill me.”
She smiled wide; almost nine-hours of passionate love making was nearly enough to sate her animalistic urges. “The bruise is nearly gone,” she assured him, admiring his firm, muscular backside and thighs as he pulled his briefs up.