Desires Unleashed (17 page)

“I'm pretty sure it's toying with us. Baiting us, or something. Whatever it's doing, it's laughing its fucking ass off. But, this is the thought that was on my mind. I think it may know that I'm a shifter and may be trying to expose me.”

“Why do you say that?” Matthew asked, obviously concerned.

“Well, it's a hunch that I have. For one thing, if it's just feeding and tossing the remains, then this shifter is hiding its scent pretty fucking well. I went back to the first crime scene last night with the oldest and strongest of our Pack. He picked up the same scent I did. But nothing else. And I'm sad to say that the scent from that crime scene didn't match the scent I picked up at this crime scene. So, either it's two shifters working together, or that first scent was just a wolf passing through.”

“How would this shifter know about you? Why would they be trying to expose you?” Matthew asked as they pulled into the parking lot at the breakfast restaurant on 87th Street. The restaurant was one of Warren's favorites. He loved getting quantity with quality for his buck. He liked the wooden interior design of the restaurant. It reminded him of a bed and breakfast he stayed at while camping and hunting with Xander and the Pack. The booths had blue and red plaid upholstery, the big bay windows allowing for plenty of sunlight. He adored the shining hard wood floors and the atmosphere, which was very friendly and laid back.

“I don't know, I've never smelled the scent before, so how this shifter knows me is a mystery. Unless...this shifter returned to the prior crime scene after we had investigated. That would be one way, but it still doesn't explain the motive. It's been my experience that most serial killers try to hide their victim's bodies for fear that the tiniest evidence would lead to their capture. But this murderer wants to play cat and mouse, and this shifter is leaving only the clues he or she wants us to have. Matt, this killer doesn't fear us,” Warren speculated as he climbed out of the truck, followed by Matthew.

“When we get back to the precinct, we have to look at the most recent missing persons reports. We have to try and find a link between the missing persons and the murder victims. We have to figure out where this killer is finding them,” Matthew said as he held the door open for his partner. They were seated right away. Warren's stomach growled louder; he felt the rumble deep inside his gut.

“Damn, man! Let's get you something to eat, A.S.A.P.!” Matthew joked. Warren just smiled, but he did want to eat A.S.A.P. An African-American waitress in a black dress with a white apron came over to the table and set two glasses of water on the table in front of them.

“What can I get you two handsome gentleman?” she asked in a friendly voice. She held her ink pen poised, ready to jot down their order.

“Well, I would like a coffee and two scrambled eggs with a side of French toast. My friend here will just take everything on your menu,” Matthew chuckled. Warren gave him a cross look then opened the menu to see what he wanted to order.

“Do you need some more time?” the waitress asked. Warren nodded.

“Just give me about one minute and then you can come back, I should be ready to eat a horse by then,” he smiled. Matthew gave him a knowing look. The waitress smiled and walked away. Warren looked at Matthew.

“What?” he asked, shrugging.

“Yeah, I bet you
could
eat a horse, probably have at some point.”

“Do you really want to know?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, not really.”

Warren laughed and went back to looking at the menu. Their waitress returned to the table, ready to take his order. He was ready now, with an appetite to boot.

“Okay, I'm ready now. I'll have the number four with an extra steak-rare. A side of southern-style hash browns, Canadian bacon and...a side of strawberry buttermilk pancakes and a large coffee.” He closed the menu, smiling at the waitress, who was still writing what he had listed as his “breakfast”.

“Will this complete your order sir?” she asked, smiling at him. She just knew he was going to say, “oh and I forgot this.”

“No, that's what I want,” he said, smiling. She nodded and walked away. Matthew looked at Warren, chuckling.

“Tell me how is it you're not fat as hell? If I ate the way you ate, I'd be dead by now from high cholesterol and clogged arteries,” Matthew stated as he leaned closer across the table. Warren met his friend's soft, brown eyes and smiled.

“Well, we've got pretty high metabolism. So we burn fat and protein relatively fast. If you ever see a fat ass shape-shifter, it's because that shifter never stopped eating. He or she probably fought the urge to run as well. So, in reality, I can eat whatever I want and just about never gain a pound.” He was glad they had a booth set away from the others in the restaurant. This way, their conversation wasn't overheard by all.

“What do you mean, 'urge' to run?”

“Well, since we pretty much turn into wild animals, we have a natural instinct to go running and hunting. In addition, feline shape-shifters have the urge to climb, and most take plenty of naps. I’m sure you can imagine the canine shape-shifters love to run, which is why I can enjoy chasing down a suspect on foot. It's the hunt, the chase.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“I hope you don't mind me asking all these questions and shit. When I first found out about you, I had to absorb the reality of it. Then I just didn't want to know anything...well anything outside of what might get me killed. But now that I'm pretty comfortable with the whole idea, I'm just curious,” Matthew said as he leaned closer. Their waitress returned with Matthew's order. She gave them both a look. She thought they were lovers. The way that Matthew peered into Warren's eyes had given her that idea.

“I'll be right back with your order, sir,” she told Warren. He nodded and thanked her. He watched Matthew dig into his eggs. It made his mouth start to water all over again. His stomach rumbled a bit more.

“Keep your eyes off my food,” Matthew joked. Warren chuckled and clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

“Back to what you were saying, I don't mind if you ask questions. As a matter of fact, I'm glad that you're asking. I've wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to freak you out or anything. But I'll answer any question I can.” He looked around the restaurant. He didn't catch a scent of another shifter in the vicinity. But he was starting to get a little unnerved about discussing his “condition” in public.

“Better yet, Matthew, when we get back into the car, I'll tell you everything you want to know. But for right now, let's just stick to the case,” Warren said on second thought.

Matthew nodded, then stared forward like he was in deep thought, then shook his head. “I'd rather not talk about the case while I'm eating,” he said. Warren actually agreed. Although discussing the case wouldn't have bothered them, if it wasn't for the condition of the remains. It sickened Matthew and enticed Warren.

Warren's eyes widened with hungry delight as the waitress came closer to their table carrying a large brown tray that held the several plates that was his breakfast.

“Here you go, sir,” she said, placing a large platter with two sixteen ounce skirt steaks accompanied by a three-egg omelet stuffed with cheddar cheese, green and red peppers, onions topped with fresh made salsa. Next to be set down was a bowl of hash browns with mixed green and red peppers, onions and diced spicy apple-glazed chicken sausage. The last plate was medium sized, stacked with four, thick, fluffy buttermilk pancakes topped with strawberries, powdered sugar and whipped cream. She placed a serving of strawberry syrup next to the plate of pancakes, a bottle of ketchup and steak sauce next to his platter of steaks and eggs. The last was his large cup of coffee.

“Is there anything else that you'll need, gentlemen?” she asked, looking from one to the other. The men gave each other a look, then shook their heads. Warren was already cutting into the steak when she smiled and walked away. Matthew looked at the spread before him and just couldn't see where Warren put it all.

“I still cannot believe you're going to finish all that,” Matthew said. Warren simply nodded as he stuffed fork-full after fork-full of steak into this mouth. Other people surrounding their table threw quick glances at their booth, trying hard not to rudely stare as Warren ate. Matthew finished his meal and sipped his coffee as he watched his partner put away enough food for four people. He just shook his head.

Matthew wondered if they could win a free dinner if he ever took Warren back to his hometown in Texas to his favorite restaurant and had him order the “Cowboy”. He pondered that for a minute. Not only would the dinner be free for you and your party, fifty-dollars was awarded along with your face on a plaque that would hang on the “Wall of Champions”. You would become a legend. It's not every day that one person can put away a sixty-five ounce steak in an hour, at least not without dying halfway through. He would have to tell Warren about it later.

After twenty minutes, Warren had finished his breakfast. He sat back, looking over the empty plates in front of him with satisfaction. He looked at Matthew and smiled.

“And you thought I couldn't finish this,” he said as he shook his head as if to say
“for shame”.

“Shit, you weren't supposed to. By all rights, you should be passed out somewhere on a gurney.” Both of them burst into laughter. Warren could just picture what Matthew was thinking. Him, laid out, arms and legs dangling off the edge of the gurney, face still greasy from the breakfast as the paramedics performed emergency CPR, the thought made him chuckle. They settled in their seats for a few more minutes, Warren letting the breakfast digest a bit. He reached inside his pocket, pulling his wallet free. He held up his hand in protest as Matthew reached for his own wallet.

“Hey, don't worry about it, it's on me,” he stated as he pulled out two twenty dollar bills and one ten.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. What's your seven dollars to this?” gesturing to all of his empty plates. He raised his hand to call the waitress over, who walked toward them. Handing her the money, he said, “Here, and keep the change. Thanks for everything.”

“Oh, you're welcome,” she said, smiling at her ten dollar tip. She hoped he came back, she liked the big tippers. She didn't get tipped that much here. The two men left the restaurant and headed for Warren's truck. They climbed in and Warren started the engine. He glanced at Matthew.

“Okay, now ask me whatever it is you want to ask,” Warren said.

Matthew looked at him and nodded. “I know some things about shape-shifters since the job, but not the behind the scenes shit, you know. Do
you
belong to a Pack or something like it?”

Warren thought over the question. If Xander knew he was revealing so much private information to his friend, he would no doubt want to kill Matthew. He would make sure he never told Xander how much he was revealing to Matthew.

“Well, yes I do. I could live with them if I wanted to, but because of the job, I don't. There are about fifteen adult wolves in my Pack and three children. We have a leader who controls all the goings-on within the Pack. For example, he decides who's to be made a wolf. He also tries to makes sure none of us get into trouble. If we do get into trouble, he has to decide the best way to deal with it.”

“So he's the top dog and shit, right?” Matthew asked, not noticing his play on words.

“Yeah, he's our Alpha. We do like that term to best describe the leader of the Pack. He has a life-mate, the Matron, our Alpha married her. I was raised by them when my parents were killed by hunters. They took me in right away and have been like parents to me.”

“What do you mean by 'Matron?'“ Matthew asked curiously.

“Well, she's the mother of the Pack, the Queen, so to speak. She is the caretaker, our Alpha is the protector, both are our providers. She can heal us if we're sick or wounded. She also helps raise any children born within the Pack,” Warren said, then he glanced at Matthew. “Do you need to go back to the crime scene to pick up your car?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, I hitched a ride with a black and white.”

“Okay,” Warren said as he entered the I-90 expressway heading toward downtown. The street wasn't nearly as congested as it had been only a few hours earlier. The morning rush hour traffic was thinning, making for easier traveling. Warren lane surfed between eighteen wheelers easily.

“How do you mean, heal?” Matthew asked, intrigued. It was amazing, he thought, how organized Warren's world really was. He was glad to be getting a peek over the other side of the fence.

“Well, she has a certain power within herself to heal. She can also lick the wound to heal.” He gave Matthew a sideways glance out the corner of his eye. He wondered what was on his mind.