Authors: Unknown
I knew that when the potion wore off, I was going to really regret this. I would be so freaking embarrassed but my hands reached for the hem of my blue tank top and I began to lift.
My eyes watched him as his face grew with a dark shock, one of lust and fear. I could smell his musky scent growing even more profuse as my shirt slowly revealed more and more of my tanned skin but I could also smell a fear, not of being frightened, but a fearsome worry. He was scared for me. He was being torn by raw primal instincts and logical reasoning. I hoped the instincts won out in the end.
I stopped lifting the shirt just enough so that the blue wire of my bra peeked through and crawled over to him. My wolf was stalking through my legs as I padded nearer, aware of the Hunter’s body tightening under his clothes.
My wolf seized my semi-conscious brain and I was no longer in control. The Hunter was in front of me, looming, his chest big and magnificent and calling me. I placed my hands over his nipples, skating the edge of them through his shirt.
My eyes inhaled him even as they were wet as was my cheeks. I tried to hold back my tears of embarrassment and loss, but the calming potion didn’t care how I acted out and I wasn’t supposed to care either.
His large hands stopped mine just as my palm caressed over his cock, just beneath, swelling, full and firm, but he kept me from moving, from smothering him.
“Sophie,” he groaned huskily, “this isn’t right.”
“Your friend says different,” I replied in a voice that sounded distant and not my own.
“He’s not the boss,” he continued and grabbed my hands further away from his private area.
I was definitely getting mixed signals from him and I wasn’t enjoying it one bit. Even my own brain was yelling “No!” but my body was saying “Yes!”. After years of being alone, years of being afraid, my body knew what it wanted--the calm and intimacy of the Hunter. My mind, on the other hand, knew what danger awaited for me in the arms of the Hunter.
Unfortunately, the calming potion didn’t care what my body or my mind wanted, it would go either way. If only I could muster some sort of a reaction then I could escape this embarrassment and try my hardest to forget it.
So, my body acquiesced and gave me a reaction. It wasn’t one I was hoping for. My fingers laced their way around his neck and for the first time that night, I noticed the bloodied remains of Charlie was still on his shirt from where he had held me. I breathed them in as I shimmied closer and wallowed in the intoxicating smell of death and sandalwood.
I pressed my nipples to his chest and rubbed myself on him, feeling both of our hard nubs through the cotton that was blocking my real satisfaction.
The Hunter moaned again bringing forth a deep rumble that began low in his ribs and made it all the way up his throat before stopping. His heart was thumping against my own, a thudding, primal, near-violent beat.
“Sophie, please,” he begged as his hands wrapped around my waist and brought me closer to him, “we shouldn’t be doing this. Please stop.”
“Why don’t you stop?” I whispered into his ear as I nibbled slightly on the soft lobe. His breathing became more heavy and harder as I kept pulling on that delicate area.
“Sophie,” he muttered again, grounding out my name as if it was a curse, “this isn’t right. Not like this.”
“What do you mean?” I asked licking down his throat allowing my tongue to absorb the beating pulse that was fluttering in my mouth. I could feel the warm blood surging just beneath the skin and my beast perked up again. Should I tear open the pulse, feel the blood course all over my face? Or should I just continue to suck and kiss? Decisions, decisions.
“You’re under the influence of something, probably that calming potion you mentioned earlier.”
Impressive, he still had his faculties. Any other man wouldn’t have cared, he would have just fucked me and that would be the end of it. But that’s all I wanted. I just wanted sex. I wanted to feel pleasure instead of this back-stabbing pain that was beginning to tear through my mind again. I just wanted some semblance of pleasure. Anything would do.
“You’re vulnerable right now because of everything that has happened. And I can’t take advantage of that. No matter how much I want to.”
My mind knew he was right, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care he was a dangerous Hunter and I especially didn’t care that I was making a fool of myself. I knew what I wanted. And he was denying me.
A sharp flare of anger erupted from my beast, from my core and I felt more determined than ever to get what I wanted. I had been denied my wants and my needs for so long, that I wasn’t going to be denied any longer.
I cupped his head, kneading the nape of his neck as I thrust my tongue deep into his warm mouth. His lips parted slowly and opened even more and his own tongue began darting in and out of my mouth, licking my lips and exploring every part of me.
His sex was aching against the ridge of his pants and that hard thrust was enough to send me nearly over the edge. I hadn’t felt that in years and I was already so close just because of the anticipation, the yearning, the longing. I wanted this so badly.
He was hard everywhere, his fingers bold and questing around my ass, underneath my clothes, and it had been so long since anyone had touched me like that that a small, pathetic whimper escaped my lips. It was the whimper that ruined everything.
The Hunter’s hands stilled and then pushed away from me. He broke the kiss that had me longing for more, tore my own hands away from his neck, and then cursed at himself as he stepped back.
His face was in shadow but his darkness was more than just a lack of light. He was angry. At what? I wasn’t sure but that anger transferred itself to me and without looking, without questioning what I was doing, I grabbed for that calming potion and took another gulp before he tore it out of my hands.
If it wasn’t for that second drink, I would have ripped him to shreds. I was furious with not just him, but with myself. He had denied me and I was embarrassed because of it. But fortunately, I didn’t have to dwell long on the thought because that potion had already begun to course through my system. I was feeling sluggish once more and very tired.
“Dammit, Sophie,” I heard him say through my groggy haze, “This isn’t…” He paused and kneeled in front of me, holding my hand in his, “You’ve been through a lot lately, and I don’t want to add anymore pain to that.”
“Why would you add more pain?” I asked, forcing my mind to string words together to form coherent questions.
“You’re so vulnerable right now. So fragile.”
“Fragile?!” I managed still very confused and foggy, “How do you know how I feel right now?”
“Because I’ve lost people I’ve cared about too, that’s how. And I know the wanting for closeness, to just feel another person’s heart beating so that you know yours is beating, too. But it can’t be like this.”
“You’re awfully preachy for a killer.”
The Hunter sighed and finally sat back down in the red, leather chair facing me. Just like that the conversation was over. I ended it, hopefully once and for all. I knew the calming potion had turned me into a drunk, incapable of making wise decisions, but I also knew the potion just removed my inhibitions. Should I admit to myself that it wasn’t just my wolf that was attracted to him, that, I too, wanted to feel his soft touch? No. That wasn’t true. The past few moments were all because of that potion. The End.
He’s a Hunter. A deadly and dangerous Hunter and as I thought about that, the potion kicked into another gear and my mind went back into that peaceful fog.
But not for long.
A few loud knocks came banging on the door, threatening to zap that inner peace that I had just managed to gain.
The Hunter jumped up and pulled a black Berretta from underneath his left pants legs. That was the second weapon I hadn’t spotted on him. He looked relieved to be doing nothing more than being my bodyguard and I almost regretted that. For just an instant, I wanted him to like me, to want me, to never cast me aside as he just did. When I sobered up, I knew the rejection would hurt just as much as the loss of my friends. Because then, I would truly be alone.
I heard the frantic ramblings of a deep and musky voice and knew that voice belonged to Ms. Jean.
She raced into my dining room wearing nothing but a torn white bra and blue flower-printed thongs. Her leathery and wrinkled skin jiggled as she grasped my arms and began to shake me. My eyes noticed a few dark brown pubic hairs erupting from her thong and I was about to say something when my brain realized she looked stricken.
Through the haze that had enveloped my mind, I took her slowly in. She was gasping for breath and clutching at her chest. Her bright, blue eyes were watering from so much fear.
I managed to ask, to speak a few words even though it was difficult to move my mouth, “What’s the matter, Ms. Jean?”
“Remember the warning you gave me earlier?”
“No.” I said simply. My mind wasn’t working at all.
“You told me of a shadowy figure that would haunt me. I saw it, Sophie, I saw the dark figure.”
Chapter Ten
The Hunter had grabbed my red silk robe from my bedroom and placed it gingerly around Ms. Jean’s shoulders. I guess during the earlier walkthrough he had indeed absorbed his surroundings. If my mind wasn’t in this funk, I would have thanked him. Instead I wanted to slap him silly for touching my things. I really needed out of this slump.
“Thank you,” Ms. Jean said, visibly shaking.
“My name is Damon Black,” the Hunter said, turning Ms. Jean to face him, “I’m a detective and I need to know exactly what happened.”
“Well, I,” she began, staring at me and waiting for some sort of acknowledgement from me that I knew wouldn’t come for some time, “I was with my boyfriend, Jonathan. Well, we were starting to do the…” she paused, wondering whether or not her embarrassment would be worth more than her pride, “well, we were doing the
dirty, when for just a second, I looked out the window. I like to keep the blinds open, see, so that my peeping tom neighbors can watch and be jealous while I put on a show. Well, I looked out the window and saw a dark figure. At first I thought it was Tim ‘cause he’s always watching, but as I looked closer…this thing,” she paused again, swallowing hard. Ms. Jean doesn’t pause when she talks, she never pauses. “I think it had a dog face or something. It looked like a Doberman with a human body. But that can’t be right, right?” She asked sneaking closer to the Hunter’s body, wanting that same safety and protection that I had been asking for earlier.
“What happened next?” he asked, holding her shoulders tenderly.
“Well, I, kind of froze and Jonathan felt me freeze from behind, and he asked me what was wrong and all I could do was point at the window. He saw it, too and ran outta my house like something fierce.”
“He left you alone?”
“Yeah.”
“What a jerk,” I managed through the dimming haze. My faculties were beginning to respond, albeit slowly. Hopefully it would only last for a few more minutes. I shouldn’t have taken that second drink.
Ms. Jean began a soft, muffled cry and the Hunter rubbed her shoulders more fervently, just as he had with me. If I wasn’t under the influence, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but since I was, I wanted to believe that he was caring, no matter who it
was. I wanted to believe in his humanity and his charity. I didn’t want to dwell on the lives he’s taken.
“Ms. Jean,” the Hunter continued, “how did you tear your undergarments.”
“Oh, that,” she said while she blushed, “rough sex.”
“So, the shadowy figure didn’t hurt you?”
“No.”
“Good. Did you call the police?”
“No, I didn’t think they’d believe me. And I remembered Sophie telling me about that dark figure that would haunt me so I braved the five feet to my car and sped outta there.”
“Do you know if it followed you?”
“Oh God, I don’t think a dogman can drive.”
“Ms. Jean, are you well enough to drive?”
“I’m a little bit shaken, but I can.”
“Good, we’ll follow behind you back to your place.”
“No. no. no. no. I’m never going back there. Never.”
“Ms. Jean, we need to…”
“I don’t care what you say, Slick, I’m not going back there. I’ll stay here with Sophie thank you very much.”
“Sophie has to remain with me for the night; she’s under my protection. So if you want to stay with Sophie, then you have to stay with me and go where I go.”
“I said I’m not going back there.”
I stood up on wobbly legs and walked towards my purse. I don’t know why I was going for my purse, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
“Sophie, what do you think I should do?” she asked.
“The black eight ball says future is hazy, ask again later,” I giggled at myself and nearly lost my balance, slamming instead into the door. A sharp pain lodged itself in my shoulder and I began to rub it out. Not only was I in emotional pain, but now physical pain. Just keep adding hurt to my list, please.
“What’s wrong with Sophie?” Ms. Jean asked, now standing closer to the Hunter. She had just seen a werewolf for the very first time and she was asking about me. If I wasn’t so bogged down with amphibian testicles, I would have been amazed, instead I continued to rub at my throbbing shoulder. It would probably bruise.
“She took something to calm her down.”
“She needed calming, why?”
“Two of her friends are dead and one is missing.”
“Oh my God, I had no idea. Why didn’t she tell me?”
Ms. Jean walked over to where I was crouched and shoved my head into her leathery breasts. Her skin rubbed against my temples and I could have sworn she felt like rough cloth. I inhaled slowly, trying to breath and caught the scent of a few hours old semen. He must have came on her chest a few hours earlier, before the dark figure had appeared. Apparently Ms. Jean didn’t bother showering after her first encounter with him so my face was right in it. Gross. I really didn’t need that extra aggravation added to the rotting and oozing intestines that I saw on both Clyde and Charlie. I pushed her away and wanted to rip my robe off of her. I didn’t need one night stand cum on my favorite robe. And knowing her type of men, Jonathan probably had herpes or something and now it would be all over my face. That’s really disgusting. As my face left her chest, I felt my cheek slightly stick, the cum clinging onto my skin. I shivered slightly and went to the bathroom hoping that I wouldn’t vomit anymore. Because after puking in Charlie’s apartment, I didn’t have anything left to come up. And throwing up stomach acid burns worse than rejection.
I was being very rude but I didn’t care. Apparently the calming potion does more than just calm, it also includes apathy in its repertoire. Normally, I wouldn’t have done something like that especially to a regular client, but I just didn’t seem to care.
I really wanted this potion out of my system.
I grabbed my Aveeno oatmeal cleanser and began scrubbing at the side of my face, nearly ripping off my skin just so that nasty semen would leave my cheek. After six washes I finally decided that should be enough for at least the next few minutes because my skin was raw and hurt to the touch. I grasped my moisturizer and caked it on. The smooth and cool cream sent chill bumps down my arm as it relieved the sore skin.
My ears prickled as I heard both the Hunter and Ms. Jean talking outside the door. They had been discussing me since I first entered the bathroom and only now did I actually care. Maybe my real self was coming back and the potion was finally dissipating.
“Am I going crazy believing in a dogman?” Ms. Jean asked.
“I think a few shadows must have distorted your view,” the Hunter replied.
“No, I’m pretty sure it was a dogman. That face was unmistakable.”
“But it was dark.”
“Yes, it was very dark. But I could swear I saw him clearly. At first, my mind didn’t…”
I stopped eavesdropping and thrust my head under the cool tap water from the spicket and felt it cascade through my thick and matted hair. I wanted to shock my body out of this sluggish state, to return to reality. My face was hidden under a veil of wet hair and with one sense, my sight, faded from view, I focused on the other senses. I closed my eyes tightly and screamed for my beast. Perhaps it could pull me from this gut-wrenching funk and bring back a state of normalcy. I would have to be careful, though, because I didn’t want the beast to fully wake, just enough to eat away that potion and return my sanity.
I reached for my beast, sending out silent howls in attempt to locate that dark and dank cave where it dwelled. I keep saying it’s a cave where my animal lives because that’s where I can find it, in a cold, dark cave. I don’t know how my body was capable of making a cave, but it did. I guess the extra room came with the beast. Oh, the perks of being a werewolf.
I found the cave only it was immensely large and didn’t seem to have a ceiling of any kind. Instead, the black sky overhead shined with the brilliance of millions of white stars and the moon was loud and full thrusting its magnificent light towards a lake that reflected all that light.
In the middle of the lake, there was a small round island where I saw my black jackal snoozing. From a distance, the beast looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb it but I approached just the same walking across the water, not making a sound nor a splash. This cave was in my mind, so I could be as quiet as a mouse, as light as a feather. The water was cool on my bare feet and I left puddles of ripples in my wake as I took step after step.
I inhaled deeply and smelled the scent of raw forest, of tree moss and leaves, of sap and wild animals. As I continued across the lake towards the small island, several fireflies flew around me, shining from time to time, lighting my way as if the stars and the moon weren’t enough.
For once in my life, I was jealous of the beast. It lived in perfect peace within this cave. Nature was harmonious here, beautiful, unspoiled. I wondered if my beast always felt that serenity even when the moon was full, even when he was out of my body in the real world. If so, then I would be forever jealous of that calm.
I pulled up beside the sleeping animal, curled and snoozing lightly. Its chest rose and fell softly as it purred in its sleep. The beast had smooth fur, not rough and full like a real wolf, but rather the smooth and short hair of a jackal. It was odd that we could be two completely separate creatures but inhabit the same body. In this cave, my animal looked like an animal not like the were-form that it took when it had control.
I wasn’t afraid of the sleeping beast, instead I wanted to touch it, to pet it. It smelled like me, it was me. For the first time in my life, I finally saw my beast. I didn’t know what to do with the mental image, so instead I leaned forward.
My nose touched its cold, wet one and it opened its eyes. The same bright gold eyes of my attacker looked right back at me. I jumped a little in my own skin as those vivid eyes continued to stare. The jackal then stood up and looked at me curiously. I swear it raised an eyebrow. Usually, I never call on my beast so I don’t exactly get to see it, but tonight, I did. And my beast was confused. Well, it wasn’t the only thing confused. I was just as baffled myself. I mean, why on earth was I doing this?
The beast began to sniff around me, its nostrils growing bigger with every inhale. It shook its head once and jumped back as if there was something really foul standing right in front of it. Its tail slowly dipped between its legs and then it leapt at me with teeth fully bared.
I felt my body go flying back into the bathroom wall as the beast began to tear at my muscles, tear at my mind. It was running through me, panting, wagging its tail and licking up the blood that was streaming through my body.
I believe, for the first time ever, it was helping me. It was actually swallowing the potion and returning me to normal, well, as normal as a werewolf can be.
The beast lingered around my toes licking the hair follicles that were just under my skin when it finally turned around and came to face me. Those eyes began to bore into mine and it continued to growl. I knew I owed it a favor now and it would make sure that I paid up. Removing the potion wouldn’t be cheap.
I don’t know what it expected of me, but from now on, it would be much more difficult to control the beast because I had asked for something and I hadn’t rewarded it for its efforts. I owed my beast. And there was only two ways of payment: sex and the hunt.
That was a scary enough thought that I came back to the outside world and found my physical body gasping and wet on the bathroom tiles. My hair was still dripping on the floor as I tossed it out from eyes and watched the individual beads of water fly onto the gray walls and the large mirror. I saw every bead of water as if they were in slow motion and for a moment, I was in perfect symbiotic repose with my beast. We could see everything, hear the slightest plopping of a leaping fish miles away in the lake, and feel the soft breeze rumble through the park’s trees. If only that feeling could have stayed, then I would have embraced my animal. But it didn’t. It flew off like a bird released, never to return.
The Hunter was banging at the door, threatening to tear it down when I finally responded, “I’m okay, I just slipped on some water.”
“We need to make sure your floors stay dry, because didn’t you fall earlier and burn your arm?”
Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. The white bandages were still wrapped on my arm because unlike a lot of fiction, werewolves don’t heal at phenomenal speeds, unfortunately. No, we had a normal healing process. Although I’m pretty sure we’re the only creatures to actually eat ourselves and grow out of the non-digested body parts. The growth only takes a few minutes so I guess that’s healing at a phenomenal speed.
“Yeah,” I replied through the door.
“Ms. Jean decided to go to a hotel,” he said, trying to turn the knob.
“Did she leave already?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago.”
A few minutes? How long had I been conversing with my beast? We needed better communication.
“Finish up what you’re doing in there because we’re going over to her place,” he continued, still struggling with the door knob.