by A. C. Arthur
“Death is always the bottom line with you, isn’t it, Nick? Your answer is always to kill.”
He shook his head. “No, Ary. My answer is always to survive.”
Chapter 17
Norbert Hanson III came from a long line of chemists hailing from the northern regions of the United States. He was a short, pudgy man who after his last birthday—which marked his twenty-ninth year on earth—had accepted that his receding hairline would continue to recede and gone completely bald. That allowed him to purchase custom-made hairpieces that he thought made him look younger.
He’d tried out the first hairpiece at Athena’s—one of DC’s premier adult entertainment clubs. Yes, Norbert loved chemistry, but he loved strippers even more. It didn’t really matter what sex the strippers were, either, but Athena’s featured a majority of female performers, with a couple of transsexuals thrown in for flavor.
That night Norbert received two lap dances and dropped more cash in the place than a high roller in Atlantic City. But his ego had been boosted, and that was all that mattered. He needed to buy more hairpieces since he was convinced that’s why he received all the extra attention that night. It never dawned on him that the ladies were seeing the wad of green in his hands much more clearly than that jet-black rug on his head—which had begun to slip, since his sweating dome had weakened the glue.
Custom-made hairpieces weren’t cheap, and while he made a good salary as a researcher at George Washington University, he needed more. As if his wish had been spoken directly into the ear of a god, a man had approached him about making some extra cash. Norbert had immediately jumped at the idea. Until he realized it was illegal.
To date, he hadn’t been to Athena’s in two weeks, his constant hard-on proof that all the personal hand action in the world wasn’t enough for any man. The man, or person, who’d approached him had a funny gleam in his eye when he’d spoken to Norbert—and when he’d smiled, Norbert saw sharp teeth. Not human teeth, either. So Norbert, being the spineless creature that he was, had taken a leave of absence from work and took refuge in his brownstone in Park Potomac.
He was craving sex like a drug-addicted teenager but he was more afraid for his life. So porn flicks, lots of lotion, and twenty-four endless hours every day would have to suffice.
Until today.
The knock on his door came early one morning. Norbert thought it was his grocery delivery and happily padded down the foyer to the vestibule where he opened first the inside door, then the split-window outside one. That was the last conscious memory Norbert had of that day.
He had no idea how much time had passed when his eyes rolled back into his head, his eyelids peeling back like skin off a dead fish. Light hurt his pupils so he dropped his lids down again. His fingers moved at his sides; his chest felt as heavy as if bricks were planted there when he tried to breathe.
“Wakey uppy, little doc,” an unfamiliar voice said before breaking into a cackling laugh.
Norbert rolled over with the help of a heavy foot on the pit of his stomach. He coughed and spat on the floor, his eyes opening again, this time out of self-preservation. Maybe if he saw the foot coming next time he could avoid it before it made contact, causing his insides to ripple like an earthquake had hit him.
“Get your ass up!” a deeper voice yelled. “I don’t have all day to sit and babysit you.”
He’d decided he was definitely going to try to stand. Putting his palms to the floor and pushing himself upward wasn’t that successful: It appeared his knees did not want to cooperate.
“Time’s up!” another man yelled.
And Norbert was yanked by the collar of his shirt and pulled up off the floor. He stumbled and collapsed into a chair. Then he gazed up into the faces of three of the deadliest-looking guys he’d ever seen. One, he knew.
“I … I … can’t help-p-p you,” Norbert stuttered. “I c-c-can’t.”
The biggest guy, the one who stood in the middle—dreadlocked hair hung past his shoulders, and thick tendrils fell into his face as he took a step toward Norbert—smiled. His dark lips spread over white teeth … sharp white teeth that hung too low to be human.
“You will do whatever I tell you,” he said in a low whisper.
Then he lifted his hand. Norbert didn’t know if he should chance taking his eyes off the guy’s killer chops to see what he was doing or not. It didn’t matter; both actions were deadly. Norbert hissed in pain when the guy’s fingernail pierced the skin at his temple, then traced an equally painful path down the side of his face.
“If you don’t, Dr. Hanson, I’m gonna slice you up into little pieces and stuff you into those slim vials you like to work with in your lab.”
The smile never wavered and seemed only to highlight the evil gleam in his eyes. Tears rolled down Norbert’s cheeks and no doubt blended with the blood from his wound. He didn’t know what to say or do. Rather, he knew exactly what not to say and do—if he wanted to keep breathing.
He shook his head because the action came long before words finally dropped from his lips. “I can’t use the university lab. I’ll … um … I’ll need my own sp-space.”
Sabar stepped back, letting his claws retract. “No problem. Darel, see that he gets what he needs. I want something ready to be tested by tomorrow.”
“That’s too f-f-fast,” Norbert said, using his shoulder to wipe at the blood and tears dripping from his chin.
Sabar had turned to walk out of the room, but looked back at Norbert over his shoulder. “Then you better get to work.”
* * *
“We’re waiting for the results from the autopsy,” Rome told Nick as they sat in his living room.
Kalina and Ary were both seated on the couch, glasses of lemonade in hand, thanks to Baxter. Ary had watched the tall, thin man move in absolute silence throughout the room. He’d brought in a silver tray with a crystal container of lemonade and four glasses. He left and came back with another tray full of cookies, which nobody touched but were very aware they were there. When he came back the last time, he pulled the drapes over the floor-to-ceiling windows tight, then went off to stand in a corner as if his body were needed to hold that particular wall in place. He didn’t look at her, but Ary got the feeling he knew she was watching him.
“I’ll bet her blood and tox screens come back with traces of damiana,” Nick said grimly.
Rome nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets. This was a familiar stance for him. Ary realized she’d seen him do this many times before when he was in deep thought.
“You think Sabar’s got the drug on the streets already?” Kalina asked after sipping from her glass. “That’s not smart.”
Nick shook his head. “He’s going to test it out on people first, before it goes on sale. Sabar’s no fool.”
“No. He’s just a sadistic killer,” Ary surmised. She got no argument from the others in the room.
“I don’t get why he’s so into death and suffering,” Kalina said, shaking her head.
“Sabar was born to good parents,” Ary stated. “But when he was taken by Boden, he was lost. There’s no telling what kind of evil Boden inflicted on him all the years they were together. And the split was rumored to have happened as recently as two or three years ago. He’s totally messed up now.”
Nick nodded. “True, he is. But I believe that kind of evil has to live in you already for it to manifest as thoroughly as it has in him. He’s going to stay that way until he’s stopped.”
Ary’s gaze went to Nick again. His rage troubled her; the ease in which killing came to him was concerning. Sure, they were jaguars at heart, they were all hunters, killers, per se. But it was different in Nick. Almost as inbred as it seemed to be with Sabar, only Ary didn’t think Nick’s parents were like this, either.
“And you’re sure about how the drug made you feel?” Rome asked Ary.
“Positive. The rage was uncontrollable. I was not myself at all.”
“This woman definitely did not
look like herself, whoever she was,” Nick said. “She didn’t look at all human. Grotesque doesn’t capture it.”
That was another thing: Nick hadn’t told her about this woman he’d encountered in the parking garage today. Yes, he’d come into the condo angry and bewildered, looking like he’d had the shock of his life. But he hadn’t confided in her. Ary didn’t know how that made her feel.
No, that was a lie. She knew exactly. Pissed off.
“Can we trust this doctor to remain quiet about what he finds?” she asked to keep her mind on the situation at hand. The other, she’d deal with later.
“X says he’s in the network,” Kalina said.
Ary must have looked confused because Nick clarified for her. “That means he’s a shadow. X has put together a network of all the stateside shifters so they can be easily located when needed.”
She nodded. “Smart. I’d like to meet him.”
“X?” Nick questioned and looked as confused as he sounded.
Ary sighed. “The doctor.”
Rome immediately agreed. “That would be a good idea. You can share your knowledge of healing from the forest perspective and he can give you some insight into Western medicine.”
“We talked about that already,” Nick added. “About Ary heading up a medical center here for the shifters. She’s going to medical school so she’ll have knowledge from both sides.”
Rome was nodding, his gaze falling to his wife. “We need a space large enough to include this medical center.”
Kalina smiled. “I’m on it.”
Their communication was silent, but on point. They didn’t have to say everything, Ary was almost positive, but each knew what the other was thinking and could finish the thought easily. It was a deep connection, one she longed for desperately.
Nick looked at her, and her fingers tightened on her glass. Could Nick ever be that open to her? Could he ever give her everything Rome seemed to give Kalina? She doubted it. He hadn’t even shared the incident in the garage with her, and that was serious. How could she expect him to share the little things like why he was so damn angry all the time? But she refused to feel sad or let down. If her life had taught her anything it was to deal with whatever came your way. She knew where she stood with Nick—sort of. Their dinner had gone wonderfully, they’d both seemed so relaxed, so comfortable. But now this—now he was as distant as if she’d just met him in the forest for the first time. One thing Ary knew for sure was that if that wasn’t working for her, she had to do something about it. Only she doubted her body was going to cooperate with the move-out thoughts she was having.
“We should let X know what’s going on,” Nick suggested.
“He’s working his connections, trying to find out where Sabar’s selling his drugs,” Rome said.
Kalina sat up, her elbows resting on legs that looked tanned to perfection. “Really? I can probably help him with that. I still have a ton of contacts on the street.”
Ary watched as Nick and Rome exchanged a look. Then Rome cleared his throat. “We can talk about that later,” he told Kalina.
“Or I can call X now and see what kind of information he needs.”
Ary watched anxiously, waiting to see what would come of this exchange. It was apparent that Rome did not agree with what Kalina said but was making a valiant effort to keep from saying so.
“You can call X, but I don’t want you on the streets working with any informants. Let X handle that part,” Rome replied finally.
Kalina smiled at him as she stood and walked over to him. She rose up on tiptoe and kissed his lips once, then twice, a little longer that time. “Whatever you say, Roman,” she said then turned to leave the room, stopping to wave at Nick and Ary on her way out.
Ary was no fool. The look in Kalina’s eyes said she was going to do whatever she deemed appropriate. Ary wondered if that was the way to be in shifter unions.
“We’ll get going,” Nick said and looked at Ary.
She stood and tried to muster a smile but couldn’t. So much was going on in her head right now, she didn’t know how to act or react. “If he finds someone to cleanse the damiana first, he could create something lethal. I mean, I don’t know a lot about street drugs or how much they go for, but mixing damiana with anything stronger isn’t going to be good.”
“That’s why we need to stop him before there’s more death,” Rome said sadly.
Chapter 18
X turned down an alley that faced the back of Athena’s Adult Club. He’d picked up a couple of hits from the police scanner indicating that there was some activity here. Located in one of the higher-end neighborhoods of DC, Athena’s seemed to be a pretty decent establishment—if you liked scantily dressed woman shaking and strutting their stuff in your face while you tossed dollars at them and sat with a rock-hard dick.
X wouldn’t exactly say he liked it.
Then again, judging from his own rock-hard dick as he watched some of said women file out the back door still wearing what looked like their work clothes, he figured he could temporarily like it just fine.
Stepping out of his truck X walked toward the women, his boots a muffled sound over the slightly damp pavement. The three women were talking and pulling out cigarettes to smoke. A slight turn-off for X, but he reminded himself that he was here for business, not pleasure. The tallest one held the lighter and flicked the Bic for her two friends before lighting her own stick. She had long black hair, falling in deep curls down to her waist. On her legs were some sparkling type of nylon, on her ass was a silver thong, and barely hugging her breasts were a few straps and what looked like a pasty. His dick twitched.
The second female, the one closest to the door, was a little shorter than the first, maybe around five-nine or -ten. She had a dark-chocolate complexion with gray eyes and long thin braids. X watched as she caught the cigarette between heavily glossed lips and took a puff.
Athena’s beauty number three was the shortest of the trio, with ivory skin and flame-red hair. Her heels were metallic and looked like pitchforks digging into the ground. The material that covered her breasts was sheer so her nipples greeted him as he stepped up closer.
They looked at him, startled because they’d been so busy talking and puffing they hadn’t heard his approach.
“Good evening, ladies,” X said, mustering a smile so his height, size, and general appearance in the middle of the night in an alley behind a strip club weren’t too intimidating.
“Get lost, dude,” Tall Lady said, her lips curling with an unattractive frown that made her look a lot harder than X had originally thought.
“Yeah,” Flame Hair said with a loud crack of the gum she chewed on the left side of her mouth. “The action’s inside, not out here. No freebies,” she stressed.
X’s gaze zoomed in on the dark-chocolate one, who looked at him with those cool gray eyes and smiled. Bingo!
“I’m looking for a hit,” he said slowly, licking his lips as he held her gaze.
“We don’t sell nothing,” Tall Lady said, stepping closer to him.
X pulled a small plastic bag out of his back pocket. It had been retrieved from evidence of a DEA bust. Once he’d started asking questions about the drug game in the city, he’d been inundated with information. This wasn’t normally his area of expertise at the Bureau, but being a senior agent gave him leeway to ask around without anyone becoming too suspicious.
“This is what I want,” he said, showing Gray Eyes the bag.
Recognition sparked. Her eyes shot to his then over to her friends before she took a step back.
“I said we don’t sell nothing.”
The tall one had come to stand face-to-face with X, blocking the other two in a protective stance.
“Do you know where I can find a seller?” he asked her.
She stank of cigarettes and liquor, disdain, and plain old cockiness. X didn’t like her much.
“That’s not our line of work. But,” she cooed, reaching out a hand to
touch his left bicep, “if the price is right, we might be able to work something out.”
“No freebies,” Flame Hair said, coming up on X’s other side and massaging his other bicep.
His dick stayed hard but he didn’t want either of them. These two had been used and reused until they most likely possessed nothing else of themselves. They were like robots running the same program day and night. It disgusted and saddened him. But not as much as when he looked at Gray Eyes again. Because her two flunkies had attached themselves to his side, she was left standing alone, her back against the wall, hands thrust behind her back.
X was sure she not only knew who sold the drug that came in the small plastic bag with the stamped black symbol on the front, but knew a lot more as well. Knowledge was clear in her eyes, just as clear as the fear and trepidation she felt at his proximity.
He didn’t even look at the other two, simply took a couple of steps forward and left them floundering behind him.
“What’s your name?” he asked Gray Eyes.
“She’s Diamond,” Flame Hair said from behind him, cracking her gum loudly.
“Diamond,” X said, looking at the woman, who now bit her full bottom lip. “You know where I can find more of this?”
Before one of the slutty twins could answer, X threw up a hand to silence them.
Diamond began shaking her head, fear pouring from her in heavy waves. He knew he’d never get her to say anything in front of her co-workers. They were apparently pulling her strings here. Up close she looked a lot more innocent than X would have originally presumed. Reaching into his pocket again, X pulled out a business card and extended it to Diamond. He held it just out of her reach so she’d have to step away from the wall and closer to him to take it. This was a test of sorts. If she came to get the card, she wanted help. If she blew him off, he was wrong and she was just as lost as the other two.
“If you remember who might have some of this, give me a call,” he told her.
