Killer Attraction

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Killer Attraction Page 4

by Mikala Ash


  His hot tongue found my clit and its rasping motion sent shivers of delight coursing through my flesh. Each brush of his lips generated paroxysms of pleasure I've never experienced before.

  Oh God.

  With his fingers working inside me finding those spots on my inner flesh, and his tongue on my clit, I was climbing a staircase to absolute pleasure. I wanted him inside me. I withdrew my mouth from his cock.

  "Fuck me,” I pleaded.

  I heard the drawer of the bedside table being opened. There was a faint rummaging sound. I propped myself onto my elbows and peered into the semidarkness.

  "What are you doing?"

  He had a foil packet between his teeth.

  "Oh."

  I'd forgotten about condoms. Not having actually had sex for so long, the necessities of modern-day lovemaking had escaped my awareness. Besides, it was not necessary. My immortal body is immune to every known disease which has existed, or is ever likely to exist. As for becoming pregnant, that didn't worry me either, as humans and wolfen don't mix that way. For his sake, however, I thought I should go through with the charade.

  "Here. Let me."

  I scrambled to my knees and took the packet from him. I pushed him down onto the bed and straddling his thighs, I ripped open the packet with my teeth. Smiling in anticipation, I placed the rolled up sheath upon the crown of his rigid cock and unrolled it over his shaft with my lips.

  He groaned from deep within as I took his whole length inside my mouth, unfurling the bitter tasting prophylactic as I went.

  "Lie still,” I ordered and I positioned myself over his cock. Slowly, I lowered myself until his cock nudged against my pussy lips. I shuddered as its swollen head slipped easily between my moist folds.

  Oh God!

  I closed my eyes and throwing back my head, I let my loneliness drain away.

  I kissed him and he groaned into my mouth. I sank down upon him until he was balls-deep and ground my pelvis over his straining groin. I rode him hard, trying to meld my body into his with sheer physical force.

  With a lusty growl he flipped me over so he was now on top and smoothly pushed himself deep inside. I locked my ankles behind his ass and urged him on. His thrusts were gentle at first and I luxuriated in each inward movement of his shaft and each slow withdrawal. He kissed me deeply as he plunged into my pussy. Our tongues frantically wrestled one against the other. We clung together like two swimmers battling a raging sea, our bodies shuddering with the primal tides raging inside us.

  Michael's thrusts became urgent and decisive. My body tensed like a steel spring and the coiled energies which had so long lain dormant exploded with a shuddering eruption of pleasure.

  I cried out, I think.

  He continued to drive his cock into me until his whole body tensed. I felt the explosion within and the powerful contractions which shook his shaft. As the powerful spasms possessed him I raked my fingers down his back, now slicked with sweat, and held his shuddering body tightly against mine.

  We lay for a long time in silence. We held each other as closely as we could until we regained our breath. I could feel his heart pounding against my breast and hear the blood pulsing through his veins. I kissed his neck and licked the sweat off his skin. The taste of him on my tongue and his scent in my nostrils sent my mind reeling.

  Inside me his cock stirred.

  Michael fucked me again, slowly this time. As his cock caressed my inner self I lost myself to the wash of pure sensation. The material world dissolved around me and I thought I'd melted into his flesh. Together we fell into a cauldron of heat and light, the elements of our bodies fusing into a single entity, a singularity of love which burst in a phantasmagorical supernova of light.

  I cried.

  We slept.

  "Do you believe in the supernatural?” I asked sometime later.

  "I believe in what I see."

  "Have you ever seen a witch, for example?"

  "Like Macbeth's? Not yet. I've seen someone who thought she was a witch. But I didn't see any witchcraft going on, just a few missing marbles."

  I have never wanted to tell a human about my bestial nature before. It is a fearful subject to broach. In fact, there is no way to do it without him thinking I was like his witch: mad.

  "'I think there is more to the world than what we can see, Horatio.’”

  "I'd like to think there was, but I'm afraid it might be just wishful thinking."

  I laughed. “There's nothing wrong with wishful thinking."

  He propped himself up onto his elbows and gazed down at me, his blue eyes shining in the gloom. “You're an amazing woman. I thought it the moment I saw you."

  "By torchlight?"

  "You glow with your own light, Justine. You're a puzzle, an enigma, and I want to find out everything about you."

  "You might find something you don't want to know."

  "It doesn't matter. A cop sees so much I don't think anything will surprise me anymore."

  "Wanna bet?"

  "I hope you'll trust me enough one day to try me."

  "Michael? I trust you now. I don't go to bed with just anyone."

  His expression hardened slightly. “I'm glad to hear it."

  "No, I mean it. I've been celibate for over a year now."

  "You're kidding me."

  "You just said nothing would surprise you."

  "Well..."

  "See, you better not ask me any more questions. I thought I'd start with a little thing. I don't think I'll tell you about the serious stuff now."

  "A whole year?"

  "What's so surprising?"

  "I just find it hard to believe someone as beautiful as you would..."

  "...wouldn't be having sex every night and three times on Sunday?"

  "Well..."

  "Sssh. The question is why did I break my vow of chastity with you?"

  "Yeah. I was going to ask ... eventually.” He waited for me to answer and when I didn't he prompted me with a kiss. “Well?"

  "I said it was a question. I didn't say it had even been asked, who asked it, or who would answer it."

  He laughed. “Okay, why did you break your drought with me? My answer is,” he frowned and then a smile creased his handsome face. “You trust me."

  I shook my head. “Nope, too easy. I gave you the trust line."

  He frowned again. “I've been cross-examined by the best barristers in the country and I've always had an answer for them. How many go's do I get?"

  "How many go's did those barristers give you?"

  "I was afraid you'd say something like that."

  "I'm waiting."

  "This needs careful consideration,” he said and kissed me. “I'll tell you after I've given it very careful consideration."

  I kissed him back. “Fair enough."

  He gazed down at me, his blue eyes burning into my soul.

  "Make love to me again."

  "If you wish."

  Chapter Four

  The next morning we were at his breakfast table eating toast and drinking tea. I felt fantastic. There's nothing like a night of non-stop sex and orgasms too many to count to put a rosy glow to the new day.

  Funny thing about rosy glows: they tend to turn sanguine without warning.

  "Who is Jason Gentle?"

  He was gazing at me with those steady blue eyes. “I don't know,” I said, truthfully.

  "He's the guy you not so gently turfed out the taxi the other night."

  "Oh."

  "You really didn't know his name?"

  Oh shit. How was I to explain this? Honesty, I guess. “I was lonely. I'd not done anything like it before. I don't like the idea of one-night stands but I needed ... Have you ever been so lonely you needed the touch of another human being?"

  "Is that what last night was about?"

  Shit, wrong direction entirely. “No, it was far more. This was a big step for me."

  "Would Jason Gentle have been a big step too?"

 
Double shit. “No, I didn't intend to...” Guilt was replaced by anger. I don't like being interrogated. “Why are you doing this?"

  "I just want to know where I stand. Am I a one night stand?"

  I touched his lips with my finger and traced their sensual curve. “No."

  "According to the taxi driver, just before you threw Jason Gentle from the cab, you received a phone call."

  Enough was enough. I stood up so suddenly my chair fell over backwards. “Do you normally conduct your interrogations over breakfast?"

  "Who called you?"

  I went to the door. “I'm sorry I've upset you. There's nothing I can do about it now. I enjoyed the theater. Thank you for inviting me."

  I pulled the door shut behind me. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I ran down the stairs and out into the street.

  * * * *

  Simon was waiting for me when I got home. He clearly wasn't pleased. The feeling was mutual.

  He sniffed the air. “You've been with the cop."

  "None of your business."

  "You positively stink of him."

  "Enough!"

  "He's hunting me..."

  "You want to explain why he's hunting you?"

  He opened his mouth to give me an excuse, like he used to do when he was a kid. Whenever he got into trouble for being naughty he'd protest, knowing he should say something in his defense. But when it came down to it, he often didn't have anything sensible to say. He'd open and close his mouth a couple of times like a stranded fish. It was so ridiculous we'd all laugh about it. There was nothing funny about him now.

  What could he say anyway? He was a killer. I was disgusted and repulsed by what he'd done. My stomach churned at the thought of the terror and the pain those women had suffered.

  "You lied to me."

  He appeared startled by the accusation. “What do you mean?"

  "You said it was the quickening making you do it, but you kill them in human form, with a knife!"

  He shrugged. “I don't know what I do. A red fog closes in on me and I lose myself."

  "Why? Why kill? I don't understand why you killed them."

  He drove his fist into his forehead and sank to the floor. “I don't want to talk about it!"

  I went and sat on the floor beside him, cradling him in my arms while stroking his hair as I used to do when we were children, before we were turned.

  I shivered at the memory. Our guardian uncle, of all people, did the deed. With our parents murdered years before, he'd raised us as his own, turning us after we'd reached puberty.

  One disgusting night, himself a victim of the quickening, my uncle had tried to rape me. Simon had fought him off with a broom. In the frenzy, Uncle had killed him, and then me. Remorseful at what he'd done, he changed us into werewolves by washing our wounds with his tainted blood.

  Uncle had always been mad; and, wracked with remorse at what the quickening had made him do, he fell further into the abyss. As our wolfen master he treated us abysmally and we had to obey his every command, though he never touched me again. It was a horrible existence until one night he left the house and never returned. His naked, mutilated body was found floating in the harbor. Simon and I inherited his fortune as well as our parent's. I feared, sometimes, we had inherited the family madness too.

  I thought back to how my brother had fought to save me from my uncle and died as a result. As ugly as his crimes were, he was still my brother. I had to protect him as he had once tried to protect me.

  "What are we going to do?” I asked.

  "I don't know."

  "Do I lock you up? Do I chain you to the back step? Tell me, what do I do?"

  "Don't be angry at me. Believe me, I don't want to kill again."

  "Then we chain you up."

  "Okay. Whatever you think is best."

  "The day before the full moon, yes?"

  "Trust me. It's the quickening. I hate what it does to me."

  I gave him a cuddle, just like in the old days. “Destroy your mobile phone. They know I received a call from someone the other night. I don't want it traced to you."

  "It wasn't my phone,” he muttered into my collarbone. “I threw it into the harbor."

  "Well, then. We must go away, I think."

  "Where to?"

  "The network will help us."

  "You think we need go to them?"

  "What else can we do?"

  The wolfen network was the organization which protected werewolves worldwide. They had their claws into every level of every government and national bureaucracy. It arranged for the legal documentation allowing us to live forever in a world of mortals. I was sure the network would be able to spirit Simon away to another country where he could hide and in time assume a new identity. How they would feel about his murderous activities, I had little doubt. Drawing the attention of mortals was frowned upon. He'd have to promise to be good or else.

  I knew Simon didn't like the idea of the network being involved. They can be just as brutal and uncompromising as humans sometimes. “The network will know what to do,” I said, trying to reassure him. “In the mean time, you have to lay low."

  "Thanks. I knew you'd come through for me."

  It had already come with a cost. “Just do as I ask. Make helping you easy for me."

  * * * *

  Michael was at the door. He was furious, his expression dark, his jaw clenched tight.

  "Where's your brother?"

  His voice was abrupt and cold.

  "Simon?"

  "Where is he?"

  "What's wrong?"

  "Is he here?"

  "No. He's out."

  "When do you expect him back?"

  "He didn't say. Michael, what's wrong?"

  "You lied to me."

  I had, but which lie did he mean? “What's wrong?” I repeated. “Come in."

  He stepped past without looking at me and I followed him into the sunroom. “What's happened?"

  He stood for a long moment gazing out the window.

  "Does your brother own a dog?"

  "No."

  "Do you?"

  The question he must ask, I realized, just in case he got lucky. “Of course not. What are you getting at?"

  "Your brother has a record."

  "What for?"

  "Assaulting women."

  "I don't believe you."

  "In Western Australia. He has two assault charges pending. He attacked them in parks, slicing their faces with knives."

  My mind reeled. By omission, Simon had lied to me. I took a deep breath. “I don't believe you checked up on my brother."

  "I should've much earlier. Officer Meyer woke up. She didn't remember much, just her attacker's hair was blonde. I ran Simon's name though our national database. There is a warrant for his arrest. He broke his bail conditions and left Perth three months ago. Just before the murders started here."

  I couldn't think of anything to say. By keeping his past a secret, Simon had let me fall into a trap. No wonder he hadn't wanted me to spend any time with Michael. I gazed into my dogberry's baleful eyes.

  "In Perth he committed each of his attacks on the night of the full moon."

  "I didn't know."

  "He's disturbed, isn't he?"

  "Well, yes, but never violent."

  "Stop lying to me, Justine. He's got a string of juvenile offences as long as..."

  "He's my brother."

  "He's a killer."

  "I love my brother."

  "He's a killer, isn't he?"

  My silence told him all he needed to know. I knew Simon was the killer, the butcher of helpless women.

  "I want you to tell him to turn himself in. We're hunting him now and we mean business. For your sake, I don't want him to resist arrest and end up dead."

  "I don't know where he is."

  "Perhaps it would be best if you kept it that way."

  I reached out to touch him but he backed away. “I don't like being lied to, Jus
tine. Not when innocent lives are at risk."

  He went to the door, paused there for a moment before facing me. “For your information, though I wanted to, I didn't intend to make love with you the other night. It wasn't a cynical interrogation technique. I genuinely enjoyed your company. You are a witness and I admit I lost control of myself. It was unprofessional of me. I'm sorry for letting myself down.” His voice was so cold, so distant.

  "Michael, no, please."

  "Had I known you were using me, I would not have enjoyed it so much.” He turned stiffly and strode out of my house.

  I slid down to the floor, my back against the wall, and wept.

  * * * *

  "The copper bastard hurt my little sister,” Simon said, his voice strange against my ear, like he'd regressed to childhood.

  He'd found me sitting on the floor crying. “My fault,” I said.

  "No. It can never be your fault, Just. Never your fault.” He cradled me in his arms like I had done for him. He stroked my hair, softly cooing into my ear as he did when we were children. “I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  He kissed my forehead. “We twins are closer than the usual brother and sister aren't we?"

  I nodded. It was his favorite subject. As children we'd often talk about this supposed uniqueness of twins, psychic connections and such, though we never felt it for real. At least I never had.

  "When he hurt you, he hurt me too."

  Fear sliced through my chest. “What are we going to do?"

  "Teach the bastard a lesson."

  "No, what we need to do is lay low. Lick our wounds and keep out of trouble. I'll call the network and they'll get you to safety."

  "These human scum think they're so fucking good. They think we're beasts. I'll show them beasts!"

  "Simon, no. Stay here. We'll find help for you."

  "Help? I don't need help. I need to show the bastard he can't hurt my little sister."

  "Calm down. It was my stupid fault."

  "You were trying to help me and he hurt you."

  Simon was incoherent now, his face a mask of red rage.

  "Don't do anything stupid."

  He laughed, the sound cruel and distant. “Too late. He's gone too far. He'll pay for your tears. Just like Ricardo, the sniveling bastard."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're too good for these human scum, Just. But don't worry. I'll protect you from them."

 

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