Howling Legion (Skinners, Book 2)

by Marcus Pelegrimas

  When Slick saw the scars on his palms, he took a full step back. “Where’s the other one?” he asked.

  “Who should I say is asking?”

  Just then, descending the back stairs as if she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to make her entrance, Stephanie announced, “His name’s Astin. Forgive him if he’s being rude, but he’s new in town.”

  Stephanie wore a black dress with red polka dots that cut straight across the top of her breasts and was held up by a single strap that looped around her neck. The strap was the same red as the polka dots, which was the same color as the ribbon that went around the middle of the dress and the narrow strip of lace along the hem. Her shoes were shiny, black, high-heeled numbers that brought her up to within an inch or two of Cole’s height. She walked through the bar with her chin held high and her dark red hair pulled into ponytails that dangled on either side of her head. She eased her shoulders back as if to display her chest every bit as much as the thick black markings that snaked up along her neck. Thinner black tendrils ran through her arms, and only a few reached down to one ankle.

  “Hello, Cole,” Stephanie said as she grinned and extended an arm to him. “Last time I saw you, you were swinging a piece of wood at me. Ahh,” she purred as she glanced over his shoulder. “I see you’ve still got wood. Must be my new heels.”

  Cole glanced down at the hand she offered and said, “If you’re waiting for me to kiss that, you’re going to be standing there a long time.”

  “Maybe you can kiss something else,” Stephanie snapped as she turned on the balls of her feet and then clacked across the hardwood floor. “I suppose you came here to see my Blood Parlor?”

  “That and to have a word with you.” When he tried to follow her to the stairs, he was stopped once more by Astin’s thickly muscled yet tendril-free arm. “Do you know what she is, Astin?”

  “She’s the one that pays my salary,” the doorman replied.

  Hanging onto the railing of the staircase, Stephanie turned to show thin, curved fangs extending from her upper gum line just enough to scrape against her bottom lip. “I’m also the one that hands out freebies to my employees when they do good. You did real good, Astin. Let the nice Skinner through.”

  Astin lowered his arm and took a step back. Judging by the way he ordered the others in the bar around with a few clipped words and some hasty pointing, he was more than just a doorman. Cole fell into step behind Stephanie and swore he could feel more eyes upon him than there were faces in the room.

  The farther up the stairs she got, the bouncier Steph’s movements became. “I didn’t think you’d ever get here. We were all ready for you and that little partner of yours to show up on opening day and you never did. Don’t tell me you two are losing touch with this town.”

  “Not at all. We just thought we’d give you a chance to get things rolling before we paid a visit.”

  “That’s cute. If you or that little bitch—”

  “Watch your mouth,” Cole snapped in the most convincing growl he’d done all night. “She’s my partner.”

  Stephanie arrived at the top of the stairs, kept her fingertips on the banister, and did a slow turn to clear a path while coming around to face him. “Sorry,” she said with an unconvincing pout. “Maybe I’m just jealous that she gets to spend so much time with you.”

  Cole stepped away from the stairs and positioned himself so his back was to a wall. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.”

  At first the upper floor seemed bigger than the one downstairs. That was mostly because the lower level was sectioned off into the bar and other rooms used for storage or office space. The top of the stairs opened to a room that was about the size of the bar and stretched from one side of the building to the other. Several windows were built into the walls of what looked like a newer addition that extended the main room out over the sidewalk. A hallway stretched all the way down the length of the second floor, with doors to private rooms on either side. At the far end of the hall was what looked like another, narrower staircase.

  Stephanie strutted through the room as if she expected an entourage to appear and kiss her feet. The burgundy carpeting was thick enough to silence every step. Two sofas and several chairs were set up at the front of the room, each padded in colors that were only slightly different from the carpet. Lace curtains hung over the windows and candles were set upon little tables that also held magazines and several binders.

  “This is the waiting room,” she said as she bent down to rub her hand along the cushion of the nearest sofa. A well-dressed man in his late forties sat there watching her as if silently praying her hand would come his way. “Our customers make their selections, settle their bills, and get all revved up for their sessions out here. It’s all very civil.”

  “Looks that way so far.”

  Stephanie answered the waiting guy’s prayers by lowering herself onto his lap. Kicking out one leg and smiling without showing any fang, she said, “Doesn’t this whole place just make you want to curl up with someone?”

  “Oh yeah, the decor is great. It does feel like it’s missing something, though.” Cole snapped his fingers and added, “Maybe a big pipe organ and some dude in a cape hanging from the ceiling! You’re not going to make this poor guy dress in some frilly shirt before he gets fed upon, are you?”

  Stephanie hopped off her living prop’s lap and walked over to Cole. The man on the couch made the best of her sudden departure by gluing his eyes to her naked shoulders. When she got close enough, Stephanie took hold of Cole’s wrist and tried dragging him down the hall. Since she was obviously used to men following her like puppies, he held his ground.

  Letting go as if Cole’s arm had turned into a decaying tentacle, she lowered her voice to a hissing whisper that could barely be heard over the soft piano music piped in through hidden speakers. “Look, this is a business. You want a tour? Fine. You want to talk? I guess that’s fine too. Just don’t come in here and try to drive off my customers.”

  “You gotta admit,” Cole replied in a voice just as low as hers, “you do seem to be laying it on kinda thick in here.”

  “Well, we can either hunt the way we’re supposed to hunt or play it up a bit to have them come to us. There are Nymar clubs in plenty of other places that do the same thing. Some are bondage dungeons, some are spas, some give customers a private booth where they can get bitten and feel someone drink from them. Since you came all the way down here to single us out, maybe you should try it for yourself.” With a smile that showed the lower quarter of her feeding fangs, she added, “I’d do you for free.”

  “Why don’t we start with a tour?”

  She wrapped her arm around his and led him down the hall. “Do you really think you need that stick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then will you at least cut the smartass comments when we’re around my customers?”

  “I suppose that’s fair.”

  “These,” Stephanie announced in a normal tone of voice, “are the rooms where our customers have their experience.” The first three doors had red ribbons tied around the handles, so she passed them up. Upon reaching a door with a bare handle, she opened it and stepped inside. “As you can see, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

  For the most part, she was right. It was a fairly plain bedroom that had been decorated as though large doses of lace and velvet were legal requirements to appease the Cook County fire inspectors. A full-sized bed in the middle of the room was covered with velvet blankets. A small table, chair, and nightstand were all trimmed in lace. The air, which smelled like incense mingling with the subtle remnants of pot smoke, made Cole think back to his college days.

  The moment Stephanie sat upon the edge of the bed, he shut the door and scooped up a chair to wedge under the handle.

  “Big mistake, bruiser,” she said. “There’s a camera in every room and any one of us could punch through that door.”

  “And scare away the customers?”

 
; As if to prove him right, there was a quick series of taps on the door instead of a Nymar fist exploding through it. He grinned at Stephanie, who shot him a tight-lipped scowl in return.

  “There a problem?” someone asked from the hallway.

  Stephanie began to speak, but cut herself off when she saw Cole reach over his shoulder to pull his spear halfway from its harness. Locking eyes with him, she said, “I’m fine. Just go back to the security room.”

  With every inch of the second level floor covered in such thick carpeting, it was impossible for Cole to hear if the people in the hall walked away or not. He looked up and couldn’t find the camera, but did pick out a few cheap little sculptures along the edge of the ceiling that could easily hide an eye in the sky.

  “The last time we met, I probably didn’t make a very good impression,” he said.

  She smirked and replied, “You tried to hit me with a trash can lid and then pushed me into the sunlight. Hah. And you’re the one calling me cliché?”

  “What was your girl doing in our part of town?”

  “My who was where?”

  Cole narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to the bed. “You know goddamn well what I’m talking about. All of your girls are marked with pigtails tied back with the little cat bands. One of them, some asshole with a mullet, and a guy named Sid were caught sucking businessmen in an alley.”

  “Did they tell you who they worked for?”

  “The one with the mullet did some talking, especially after I cracked his skull against the side of my car.”

  “Yeah,” Stephanie said as she stood up and took the single step required to put her within a foot of Cole, “but did they tell you they worked for me?”

  When she was that close, he could smell the fruity scent of whatever she used in her hair. He could see the subtle texture of the tendrils that slowly writhed beneath her skin, and felt the heat emanating from her body. Apparently, that stuff about vampires being cold was as big a myth as the one about them burning up in the daylight.

  Her eyes looked brown or possibly dark green from a distance. From where she stood now, Cole thought they had a slight purple hue to them. Those eyes silently assured him that they could pick up any lie he tried to float past her. Of course, there was one surefire way to test that theory.

  “Yeah,” he lied. “Mullet boy brought your name up once or twice.”

  Without skipping a beat, Stephanie raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess you got me. Seems like Paige really has whipped you into shape. Tell me something. Have you fucked her yet?”

  “There’s the Stephanie I remember.”

  “You haven’t, have you? I can feel that much just like I can feel, well, this much.”

  Before Cole could do anything about it, Stephanie slipped her hand between his legs. She squeezed a bit too hard, as if to remind him who was in control, but eased up quickly and started rubbing him back and forth. “You’ve been with her all this time and no action? What’s the matter? Oooh, I can tell it’s nothing to do with your plumbing. Must be her. Is she freezing you out?”

  Cole shook his head, intending on saying something but not quite getting there.

  “I may have been a little rough on you when we first met, but you’ve shaped up since then.” Placing her hands upon his arms, she squeezed them and smiled. “You’ve been working out.”

  Trying to distract her as well as himself, he asked, “Do your customers even know what you are?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What about those?” he asked while tapping the thickest black line on the side of her neck. “Don’t they notice anything strange about those? I mean, sometimes they move.”

  “They move a lot of the times, but we keep the normals too busy to notice. We tell them they’re tattoos, and that’s good enough. I told one of my customers something of the whole story when he put some of the pieces together about what’s actually going on. You know what he said? He said it was weird. Can you believe that? A guy who paid me to make him bleed and lick the wounds actually called me weird!”

  Pulling the strap of her dress over her head, Stephanie wriggled just enough for the garment to slide off her body. A few more well-practiced shimmies and the dress was bunched around her high heels. “I mean, see for yourself. Do I look so weird to you?”

  Cole knew he shouldn’t look at her. Stephanie might not have been his favorite person if she was human, and being a Nymar only cranked her attitude up to unbearable degrees. She knew just how to roll her eyes or curl her lip in a way that made him want to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. Even so, with her standing naked in front of him, he had to remind himself over and over again why he shouldn’t like her.

  She was a Nymar.

  She admitted to sending more Nymar to scout a few blocks from where he and Paige called home.

  She’d threatened their lives more than once.

  She…looked damn good wearing nothing but black heels and a grin. The markings beneath her skin didn’t cover her entire body, but radiated from the middle of her chest. Spots along her stomach and waist were perfectly smooth and clean, while sections of her neck, arms, and thighs were marked in a way that resembled standard black tribal tattooing. As he examined her, he could see the tendrils writhing slowly inside of her. With his eyes already below her waist, he couldn’t help but notice the way she’d trimmed her pubic hair into a design that resembled more tendrils running between her legs. That was a little unsettling, but she made it work.

  “I’m not the same woman I was a few months ago,” she purred. “I was angry and things were so bad with all the trouble that was going on. But you stopped that.”

  “Paige and I stopped it.”

  “Right. You stopped it and I’m so grateful. Your partner just wants to fight. If she has her way, there won’t be any progress.”

  “Progress?” Cole scoffed.

  “Look around you, sweetie. This place ain’t some alley. This is a real business. Do you know how much money we pull in every week?”

  “No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

  “Or…” she said as she eased her hand up along Cole’s stomach and chest, “you could find out for yourself.”

  “Why would you want to give me such an opportunity?”

  “Because the two of us could make things in this town run smoothly. I could keep the Nymar in line and you could—”

  “I could be the one to take out anyone who you don’t like,” he cut in.

  “You could take out the troublemakers. Isn’t that what Skinners do already?”

  Pushing her hand away, Cole said, “You’re not supposed to come down to Cicero. You were warned, and I suppose you needed to see if Paige and I were really paying attention. We are, and if anyone wanders where they’re not supposed to go, we’ll shut down all your places. Starting with this one.”

  Stephanie put on a hurt expression as she tugged at Cole’s belt. Somehow, she managed to get it open in a matter of seconds. “There are other fringe benefits,” she said as she took his hand and guided it to the front of her body. “And the first one’s free.”

  Cole tried to pull his hand back, but lost the will to struggle when he felt just how soft Stephanie’s body was. Her breast was firm and her nipple rigid with anticipation. Even the Nymar markings added a smooth, ridged texture to her flesh. Soon, her leg was rubbing against his and he could feel the warmth between her thighs through his jeans.

  He knew damn well what she was doing, and thanks to some of his more recent sparring sessions, wasn’t so eager to partake. “Get away from me, Steph.”

  “You don’t mean that, sweet stuff.”

  “Yeah,” Cole snapped as he shoved her away. “I do.”

  The slightest hint of confusion drifted across her face as she grabbed his waist. She struggled with him as if she’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, holding on using the strength that set her well above human norms.

  Breakin
g her hold with more force than he would have normally used for any woman, Cole took Stephanie by the wrist and tried to shove her aside. She was Nymar and he knew that well enough, but it still went against his grain to treat a naked girl like that. Even with his clear thinking and extra effort, he was only able to move her a foot or so in the other direction.

  Rather than admire the way the black tendrils framed her upper and lower assets, Cole looked at her mouth. Like any Nymar being threatened, the fangs were starting to show. Instead of just the two upper sets, however, the lower ones were also making an appearance. Those thicker bottom fangs were only used when they needed to dig in deep and keep their prey from getting away during feeding. Showing them meant Stephanie was gearing up for a fight.

  Cole reached over his shoulder and removed the spear from its harness. “Stay the hell away from Cicero,” he snarled. “And keep your whores in their kennel.”

  She crouched down and scooped up her dress. Pressing the clothing against her chest, she looked up at one of those sculptures along the upper corner of the wall and said, “Are you going to keep watching this bullshit, Ace, or is someone gonna kill this jackoff?”

  Chapter 7

  As Cole kicked the chair away from the door, he wondered if he might have pushed things just a bit too far. The simple truth of the matter was that Stephanie had a knack for pissing him off. All she thought she had to do was strip and whisper a few things to get her way. What made him even madder was that the simple, age-old tactic had almost worked.

  When he pulled open the door, Cole saw two Nymar racing toward him. One wore a black suit and the other looked more like a bouncer from the bar downstairs. He gripped his spear in both hands, brought the weapon across his face to protect himself, and then snapped it forward to crack it against the chin of the Nymar in the suit. That one twisted around and hissed loudly as he bounced off the wall. The bouncer ducked down and sent a quick uppercut into Cole’s stomach. Fortunately, Stephanie had been right about one thing: he had indeed been working out.