Desires Unleashed (16 page)

She squatted over the little white toilet, balancing herself over the opening. Gripping the steel bars for support, she released the pressure in her bladder. She felt tiny, pleasurable tingles work their way through her limbs, causing her to shiver just a bit. It was funny to think about all the little things that can bring pleasure at any given time, at least
she
thought it was funny. After she finished, she washed her hands with the little, brown, square soap. Natasha considered taking the toiletries when she checked out. She slowly walked back to her bed, feeling tired. She looked at the clock on the wall, noticing that the time was 6:50 A.M., she may have only had about four or five hours of sleep. Natasha tried to remember what time it was when she left the club with Annette.

“Annette!” She thought about her friend's condition. Feeling sorry for her, she wanted to go and visit Annette. She would give her a chance to rest first. She would visit her later, hoping she would be feeling better herself by then, making for better company. She climbed back into the bed slowly, pulling the thick white covers over her head. She lay still thinking about the freaky dream she had before the crash. It unnerved her that she could see something like that coming and know who would be the cause of it.

She wondered how she had done that. Natasha thought about what could have caused the connection. In the vision she had of the man, who was probably dead, she saw him drop his keys on the ground. She remembered picking up his keys. She couldn't explain any of it. As she lay there in the narrow bed, she thought about all the events that led up to the crash. She had not taken her medicine that night and had gotten drunk for the first time in her life, (though she vowed never to drink again.) She thought that might have had something to do with the “premonition”, maybe it was just a freak thing that happened. Maybe she just dreamed about the man since he was the last thing on her mind before she had drifted off to sleep.

Maybe she had felt the blinding lights on her closed eyelids which made her open her eyes in the first place to see the headlights reflecting in the rearview mirror. It made sense to her,
that must be it and nothing more.
She decided that was the most logical answer for what happened. She snuggled deeper under the sheets, drifting off to sleep. This time, the only dream was about her friend sleeping in a little narrow bed with white linen sheets like hers.

CHAPTER 11

W
arren took the less crowded exit off the I-90 expressway. He hated the city's rush hour traffic, people always drove at their worst. They would race to get to work on time before they were fired or written up. Then, after the grind of the work day, everyone's rushing to pick up their kids, groceries and get home in time to cook and enjoy a little prime-time TV before starting the rat race all over again the next day. An erratic driver cut him off causing him to swerve his car. He thought about letting him go, so he could get to the crime scene. Weighing that idea against getting breakfast, he decided to give the guy a ticket for driving recklessly. He could have caused an accident!

Warren took the exit to Lake Shore Drive to escape the stop and go traffic of the Dan Ryan expressway. Exiting the Drive, he turned onto Stony Island. He was almost there now. He knew right away he had reached the scene of the crime due to all of the police squad cars that blocked oncoming cars and the uniformed officers who redirected the traffic. He pulled his black Diamondback S5-20 four door truck over to the side, opposite of the crime scene. Reaching into his glove compartment, he pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

He took a few deep breaths before climbing out of his truck. He could smell the blood in the air; it made his stomach growl. He immediately regretted not taking his partner's advice and grabbing a whole lot of something to eat along the way. The scent of the blood was so enticing, he felt his mouth water. Swallowing hard, he reached into his pocket. Pulling out his badge and ID, he handed them to the uniformed officer protecting the crime scene from intruders and media. Warren surveyed the crime scene as the officer verified his identification before handing it back. The body had been dumped on the shoulder of 95th Street. There was a small patch of wild grass that had grown four feet high and beyond that, huge patches of gravel and dirt.

He stepped under the yellow and black police tape that decorated crime scenes everywhere. He could see the M.E. forensics expert taking pictures of the body from all angles. As he walked closer, he realized right away why forensics were walking around the area taking so many pictures. The crime scene was a horrific sight. The body had been dismembered; mutilated chunks of bloody flesh had been strewn around the area. A uniformed officer rushed past him to puke on the curb next to a squad car. He used the car's hood for balance as his stomach heaved its contents onto the pavement.

Warren looked closely at the mutilated, disembodied chunks of flesh, his senses picked up a slight scent of a shifter from the body but it was highly overshadowed by the smell of blood. He hoped whoever the pieces of flesh had belonged to was murdered here and not somewhere else like the last victim. At least, now he knew for certain that a shifter was involved. He just wished he had a more defined scent to work with. Well, at least one thing could be ruled out. Xander's theory of foul play from the human race was out of the question from this standpoint. This was the work of a supernatural and it was the last thing the supernatural race needed..
.more drama. More ammunition for the humans to throw at them about how they should all be rounded up and destroyed.

He watched as blood dried to a dark red tint on the exposed ligaments and muscles. Ragged pieces of skin clung to the chunks of flesh. He counted five pieces of the body, ranging from small to medium. The largest chunk of flesh was what remained of the torso. He stepped closer to examine the bite marks where the wolf had torn through the skin, bone and muscle. Looking inside the cavity, he could see that the ribs had been splintered, little particles of white bone sprinkled the remaining intestines still attached to the shredded abdomen. There was no blood splattered around the area, just small puddles that had drained from the pieces of the corpse.

He fought the urge to kneel on all fours and plunge his face deep into the feast at hand. He licked his lips and swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth. His stomach growled loudly this time. He heard footsteps coming closer and looked up to see his partner approaching.

“I can hear your hungry ass from over there. Didn't I tell you to eat something before you brought your ass out here?” Matthew stated forcefully as he approached Warren. Kneeling beside him, he inspected a bloody chunk of the corpse by lifting a piece of the torn muscle with his examining pen. Warren gave him a rueful smile. He looked at Matthew's attire, a black sweatshirt with the faded letters of Rosenthall-Krest University on the front and a pair of faded and obviously worn blue jeans. His boots were the newest thing he had on, they still had that new store-bought shine to them.

“You did, but I didn't think I'd have enough time to stop,” Warren lied.

“You had time. At least enough time to pull into a
Burger Town
or something and grab a dozen breakfast sandwiches. Anything would have been better than having you drooling over the body.” He took another look around the area. “Or what's left of a body. We can't even tell if this was a man or woman, young or old. I guess it matters little. As it stands now, this is a John or Jane doe. Shit, I'm not even sure if it's human!”

“It's human, Matt. Has Galen found anything more about the body from yesterday? Has it been identified?” Warren asked.

Matthew nodded. “Yeah, the victim was a man named Wallace Gram. He owned a cleaners down there on 69th Street. His wallet was missing from the body but his wife had reported him missing two days before he was found. She, of course, doesn't know why anyone would do this to her husband. She said he was a good and caring person who always gave back to the community. I guess she didn't realize that supernaturals don't take that into consideration.” As soon as he made this statement, Matthew wished he could have taken back what he'd just said, the look on Warren's face made him regret it.

“You sound like the rest of them!” Warren said as he gestured to the other officers surrounding the area.

“You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just, ah shit man, you know how I feel about all this. I know that humans are just as capable of this as the next being it's just-”

“Most supernaturals were human, so I suppose that's where they get it from,” Warren said matter-of-factly, then walked over to another piece of the body. He didn't want to get into this kind of debate with Matthew, not right now, not in public. He was grateful that no one was standing close to them as they exchanged words. He would hate to have to explain his sympathy for the supernaturals to humans who would not understand.

“I guess, never mind. We'll talk about it later, I suppose, Matthew said as he rose, standing over the largest piece of flesh and bone. Warren was grateful Matthew knew how to take a hint. It helped since he was trying to hide his own nature from the world.

“This looks like part of a femur right here.” Warren gestured in a circular motion around a fragment of white bone jutting out from a football size chunk of bloody flesh. Matthew walked over and bent forward for a closer inspection.

“Yeah, it looks like it. It's still too hard to tell if it's female or male. There's just not enough left for us to make that determination. Perhaps the bone marrow will aid Galen in determining the sex; it's his job.”

“Well, it looks like this shifter took what he wanted then mutilated the body afterward so we wouldn't be able to pick up any details from the remains. It's going to make it difficult to determine concrete evidence, that's for sure. We know that the murderer is planting these bodies on the southeast side of the city. We've also determined that these aren't just natural feedings, Matthew. The murderer is toying with us by leaving us little to connect. But there's something more....” Warren gestured for Matthew to follow him toward his truck. He needed to get away from the immediate scent of the body. He needed to eat something as soon as possible or he'd end up eating one of the people at the scene of the crime.

“I have to get something to eat and
now”
he whispered breathlessly as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. He snatched the gloves off and climbed inside his car. Matthew climbed in on the passenger side, watching Warren. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles began to sweat and turn white.

“Hey man, are you going to be okay? Shit, should I be sitting next to you right now?” he asked seriously.

Warren nodded. “I'll be fine, I just need to get away from here. I really should have eaten but I don't know how much good it would have done. I wasn't prepared to walk into a crime scene like that.” He pressed his forehead to his knuckles, taking several deep breaths before sitting up and starting the engine. He threw a glance at his partner and smiled.

“I wouldn't eat you. You'd probably taste like shit anyway,” he joked.

“Oh please, I'd probably be the best thing you ever had in your mouth,” Matthew shot back, winking at his partner. Warren gave him a wolfish grin. That one line meant more to Warren than he would let Matthew know. He had thoughts about how good Matthew would taste in his mouth and he wasn't thinking as an entree, either. He had always thought Matthew was extremely handsome. He enjoyed Matthew's personality, liked how he always remained calm, even when he was pissed. Matthew reminded him of Xander. He didn't have any sexual lust for Xander, but a calm, cool temperament was always a turn on for him.

He wished Adrian was more like his father, it would have kept their relationship from getting so rocky. He drove his truck to the nearest
Pancake Palace.
He wanted a real breakfast, something that was going to coat his stomach. He thought about Adrian and the feel of his body stroking his, inside and out. It made him blush. If there was one thing that made a shifter think about sex, it was the sight and scent of blood. He could feel himself growing hard and fought against it. He didn't want to have to explain to Matthew why he was sporting a serious
boner.

“What was it you were going to say back there at the crime scene? You looked like you were going to say something, then just trailed off. What were you going to say?” Matthew, prodded, bringing Warren out of his sex-filled trance.

“Well, this shifter, I think it's a wolf, but I can't be certain right now. I'm going to have to take another whiff.”

“You mean werewolf?”

“Yeah, but inside the shifting community, we don't refer to ourselves as 'were' anything. If you change into a wolf, then you're just a wolf or cheetah, etc. You get it?”

Matthew nodded. “So you think it's a we-wolf. What else?”