As I looked up to find the rope to pull the bed curtains shut, I noticed how well the deep mahogany of his four poster bed blended with the room. Alfred had decorated the room all by himself, and the more I looked at it, the more I liked his choices. Of course, I couldn’t mention this to Kat. In her opinion, only gay men knew how to decorate properly. The rope was located on the left side of the bed, just out of my reach. As I stretched up to pull the cord, I noticed that not only was my towel long gone, but I was pressed against Alfred’s naked thigh.
His arm tightened around my ribs. I couldn’t reach the rope without waking him. Settling back against his warm body, I realized I didn’t want to wake him just yet. I reached behind me and ran my hand up his bare thigh. My pulse raced, but my head didn’t throb. That was always a good sign. His robe must have fallen open in the night, but he was still wearing it. As I lay there, I was suddenly very aware of how big Alfred was. My small body fit completely in the curve of his. I could feel his chin propped against the top of my head, and my feet where he was spooned against me, only reached to his shin. I felt so small and helpless as I understood he could have taken advantage of me any time he wanted to the night before, but he didn’t. He really was a gentleman. Bearing that in mind, I decided he deserved a reward. I lifted his arm from around my waist and rolled toward him. His robe still managed to carefully conceal the part I was most interested in. Placing my leg over his, I began to run my hand up his inner thigh.
“Your hands are cold,” he said, with his eyes still closed.
I jumped, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Alfred laughed as he moved my hand from his thigh and held it against his chest.
“I know you weren’t thinking of molesting me in my sleep.” His smile let me know he wouldn’t mind if I did.
“Of course not,” I lied, trying to look innocent.
“How’s your head?”
“Better, it’s stopped throbbing.”
He rolled me quickly onto my back as he said, “Well, that’s the only thing that has.”
“Alfred?” I said, grabbing a handful of his beautiful behind.
“Hmm?” he said, as he kissed along the side of my neck.
“What about Elijah?”
He snorted with laughter as he replied, “Little peckerwood’s lucky I didn’t throw him in the dungeon.”
“You’re horrible,” I teased, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“Don’t be so quick to judge,” he whispered against my ear, his voice filled with so many lustful promises.
When I would have expected unbridled desire, Alfred kissed me so softly that it took my breath away. Never have I been kissed in such a way. There is no delicate way of saying that every muscle between my thighs jumped in response to that soft kiss. I have never been so instantly aroused in my life. As I tried to deepen the kiss, Alfred whispered, “lento giu.” (Slow down.) But, I didn’t want to slow down. I wanted it fast, and I wanted it now. I moaned as Alfred pressed against me, our bodies only separated by his robe.
Then we heard what was unmistakably a knock at the front door. The cathedral ceiling in the foyer caused it to echo down the hall. As Alfred moved to kiss me again, I knew he was planning to ignore it. But the next knock was louder and Alfred rolled off of me as he growled, “Vaffanculo.” (Screw it.)
He pounced back over me with a malicious grin as he said, “Brace yourself.”
“For what?” I laughed.
“I’m going to kill Kathryn.” And with that he dashed out of the room toward the front door.
“Alfred, wait,” I yelled as I grabbed his spare honey colored robe from the bathroom.
By the time I caught up with him, he was already standing with the door open, staring menacingly at Kathryn. I tried to skid to a halt, but I was running too fast. Alfred barely moved when I slammed into his very solid back.
“Good morning, Kathryn, how good of you to stop by,” he said in a tone that clearly contradicted his genteel greeting.
I slapped his ass and whispered, “Behave yourself.”
He smiled at me over his shoulder and strutted angrily off to the kitchen with a muttered, “I was hungry anyway.”
As I watched him walk away, barefoot and naked except for the chocolate colored robe, I knew exactly what I wanted for breakfast. But, I would have to settle for French toast. Kat gave an appreciative whistle as I turned back to greet her.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me he looked that good in a bathrobe?” Her tone said she’d been royally gypped.
“I didn’t know,” I answered honestly.
She noticed the faint bruise across my cheek where Bade had hit me and reached out to touch my face.
“Anything kinky?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Kat looked at me more closely and said, “Shit, I did it again, didn’t I?”
“It’s all right, Kat,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder and leading her to the kitchen. “I forgot to leave you a message.”
Alfred had already begun to fix French toast when we sat down at the table.
“Smells good in here,” Kat commented.
“Yeah, well the only thing good about the French is their toast,” Alfred replied irritably.
Just then, Elijah came staggering in wearing my black velvet robe with the red silk trim. He had a cut above one eyebrow, a black eye, a cut lip, and a bruise in the middle of his forehead. He walked over and turned my face from side to side. The bruise that Bade had left looked more like a bit of dirt smeared across my cheek. There was another faint bruise just below the hairline on my forehead where I’d gotten kicked in the face. Everything else was nearly healed.
“You look like shit,” I said to Elijah.
“And you don’t,” he said, like it wasn’t fair.
“Gees, what happened to you people?” Kat asked.
“A whole goddamned pack of werewolves,” Elijah said wearily.
I was pleased to see that Elijah, thus far, wasn’t treating me any differently. But when he noticed Alfred, he went pale.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and left the room.
Kat gave me a questioning look. I shrugged in response, but decided to follow him.
“Elijah,” I put my hand on his shoulder and he winched. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said, turning around.
“Look, I know you saw me do some things last night that—”
“It’s not you,” he cut in.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“What you did was necessary. Life or death, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed hesitantly.
“But him?” He motioned toward the kitchen. “He enjoyed it.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he got to you and saw the condition you were in, he went berserk.” Elijah looked horrified with the memory. “They were already running away. He shot them in the back,” his voice shook, “he shot their legs out from under them and shot them in the head.”
I didn’t know what to say. I honestly hadn’t expected Alfred to be the one he thought of as a monster.
“He killed them all,” he said softly. “All except the blond and another that was in wolf form. They ran away before he got within range.”
I still couldn’t speak. No one but my father had ever reacted so violently to me being injured. I reached out to try to comfort Elijah, but he stopped me.
“That’s not all,” he said. “Within thirty minutes, he’d piled the bodies up and doused them in gasoline.”
My eyes grew wider. “So what, he lit a match and torched thirty werewolves?”
“No, he lit a cigar, took a few puffs and tossed it on them.”
Wow, I was impressed. I’d never known Alfred could be so ruthless. It was a turn on to know the hands that had gently washed my hair the night before could have just as easily torn me apart. I can’t explain it, but knowing that Alfred would go to such lengths to protect me, j
ust flat did it for me.
One look at Elijah said he didn’t share my appreciation for Alfred’s brutality.
“We can talk about it later.” I took Elijah by the hand, suddenly realizing I’d left Kat alone with Alfred.
Upon entering the kitchen it appeared, to my relief, that all they’d done was make coffee. No one had been injured. Elijah looked calmer now, but he sat beside me, avoiding the chair closest to Alfred.
Alfred handed me some coffee in my favorite mug, made just the way I liked it, Kalua coffee with vanilla cream. I used to take it bitter and strong, but over the years my taste in coffee, like my taste in men, had changed. Now I wanted it with a little more sugar.
Kat got up and began pouring her own coffee as she said, “So, you guys got the shit beat out of you.” She indicated Elijah and me, before sitting back down. “What about you, Alfred?”
“Sono allupato,” he replied. (I’m horny.)
I giggled and nearly choked on my coffee. Kat looked at me, but I wasn’t about to interpret what he’d just said.
“I know sarcasm when I hear it, even if I don’t understand the language.” She chucked a piece of toast at Alfred. He ducked it with a laugh, but Elijah, who was now standing near the fridge, wasn’t as fortunate. Elijah reached up and peeled the toast from his forehead as Kat began to laugh so hard she could no longer breathe, and Alfred propped on the counter for support. I tried to maintain my composure for Elijah’s sake, but it was difficult. Kat and Alfred sounded like a pack of hyenas.
“How’s your toast?” I snickered.
“Would you like fries with that?” Alfred asked, gasping for breath.
Elijah laughed as he wiped his forehead. “You know, I don’t know what is wrong with you guys, but I’m sure it’s hard to pronounce.”
“Nothing serious, I’m afraid we’re just assholes,” Alfred answered as he put some fruit on the table.
Kat, who had laughed until her neatly applied mascara was running, picked this opportunity to snort.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, my eyes watering with the effort it took to not burst out laughing.
“No thanks,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid to know where that might end up.”
I laughed then until I couldn’t breathe. After the events of the night before, I think it did us all good, even Elijah seemed less on edge. We all sat down and had breakfast together like civilized people. That is if you ignored the occasional giggle when someone took a bite of toast.
After a few minutes Alfred no longer had a murderous gleam in his eye when he looked at Kathryn, and Elijah didn’t seem to notice that I was wearing Alfred’s robe. Everything was going fairly well until Elijah asked, “How did you know where to find us?”
Alfred looked at me and asked, “You remember a tall fellow with rusty colored hair?”
“Yes.” It was the tall man at the door, the one I’d kneed in the crotch.
Alfred went on, “Well, apparently he’d forgotten something. By the time he returned, I was here.”
Well, that eased my mind about where Alfred had spent the night.
“He just told you where we were?” Elijah asked skeptically.
“No,” Alfred said, pouring more coffee, “took me till the next day to get it out of him.”
“And where could I find this individual to question him further?” Elijah inquired.
“You couldn’t.”
With these words, Kat nearly choked on a strawberry and Elijah turned a sickly shade of green.
“Did he say why they took us?” I seemed the only one capable of speech.
“All he knew was they needed a sample of your blood.”
“Are you sure?” Elijah asked. “He could have been lying.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Alfred smiled darkly, clearly enjoying Elijah’s squeamish reaction.
“Damn. That’s all that we know, too,” I said.
“I imagine it’s got something to do with what Marco mentioned, about trying to recreate your DNA,” Alfred said to me.
“Well, we’ll never know now will we? Especially, if you keep killing off all the witnesses.” Elijah stood and walked to the door.
Alfred went on as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’m afraid they’ll be sorely disappointed. You were exposed to the disease, but your body managed to fight it. Not everyone exposed will contract the disease, but you absorbed it, mutated it to make you stronger. The odds of that ever happening again are slim to none.”
“Gee, I feel so special,” I said mockingly.
“I’d best be going,” Elijah said from the door.
I looked to Kat and Alfred. “Will you two behave while I see Elijah out?”
They both gave me blank expressions that I’m sure were an attempt at innocence.
“I’ll be right back.” It sounded like a threat, even to my own ears.
I put my hand on Elijah’s elbow, careful not to touch his shoulder and walked with him upstairs.
“Will you be all right?” I asked as we reached my bedroom.
“I think so,” he said, offering me a feeble attempt at his usual smile.
When the smile didn’t reach his eyes, I thought I would cry. The sparkle in Elijah’s blue eyes was gone, and it was my fault. I had corrupted him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gently. “It’s not that bad.”
But, as he slid my robe from his surprisingly well muscled shoulders, I gasped to see how bad it was. He handed me the robe and walked to the bed where his shirt had been discarded. He’d worn his jeans underneath the robe, but I got a clear view of his upper body. His back was covered in cuts and bruises, many a deep heinous looking purple. The shoulder that I’d touched earlier looked as if someone had tried to tear it from the socket.
I walked toward Elijah and turned him to face me before he could button his deep blue shirt. I noticed with a trace of regret, how well it matched his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly as I touched his left cheek, the one spot on his face that wasn’t bruised.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, placing his hand over mine.
“Have you been…?”
“Contaminated?”
I nodded.
“No. Alfred was sure to check for that.”
I ran my hands inside his shirt and gently placed them around his waist, careful to not touch any of the terrible bruises.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, laying my head against the shoulder that hadn’t been abused so cruelly. I didn’t know what else to do. I suppose it has something to do with being empathic. When I see someone hurting, I want to help. I always had. That sometimes made my job very difficult. As long as I could justify my actions in my mind, I’d be all right. Like Elijah had said earlier, if it was life and death. But this conflicted strongly with the animal in me that seemed to enjoy the violence. Fortunately, the beast was only aroused by sex or violence, and standing there with Elijah, there was cause for neither.
All I wanted to do was to take him in my arms and make it go away. With all that was in me, I wanted to comfort Elijah. He rested his unbruised cheek against my face and sighed. With that sigh, I felt the tension begin to leave his body, and where my hands touched his bare waist, began to flow into me. I couldn’t take his memories, but I could take some of his pain, his shock, things that I was used to dealing with. I held Elijah to me and did my best to ease his burden.
“I feel better,” he said softly. “How did you do that?”
I pulled back slightly. “I don’t know. That’s only the second time it’s ever happened.”
The first time had been when I rescued Kat’s now ex-boyfriend from werewolves. Kat had not been injured, but she’d seen the whole thing. I did not leave one of them alive. Her boyfriend was unconscious, but as I turned around, the blood of the last werewolf dripping from my sword, I saw Kathryn. She was huddled up, rocking back and forth, her eyes wide with shock and terror. As I looked down at my blood covered hands, I had n
ever been so ashamed of what I was. I approached Kat, her bloody avenger, and dropped to my knees before her.
She gasped and leapt back when I extended my bloody hand to her. She told me later that when she looked in my eyes, she knew I wouldn’t hurt her. Kat fell into my arms, and nearly knocked me to the ground, crying hysterically. My only thought was that if I could ease this woman’s suffering, I would. I wanted to chase away the haunted look in her eyes and return her to whatever she was before. As I sat there, rocking her back and forth, I felt a peace flow from my body into hers. Gradually, she stopped shaking and looked at me with the eyes of the Kathryn I know today.
“Thank you,” Elijah said as he kissed me gently, so as not to further injure his busted lip.
It was a show of gratitude, not a sexual overture, and I accepted it with a smile. I walked Elijah to the front door, said goodbye, and returned to the kitchen.
To my surprise, I found Kat and Alfred deeply engrossed in a conversation about decorating. Somewhere during this discussion, Alfred had retrieved his communicator that he then pointed at me without warning and said, “Smile.”
I was blinded by the flash.
“What the hell?”
“I’ve got a report to make, and Jacob will want to know that you’re all right.”
“Couldn’t you just tell him?”
Alfred gave me a look that clearly said how stupid my question was. “You know he’ll want proof.”
“You’re right.” I sighed. “But how are you going to explain this?” I indicated the robe. “He’s seen you in this robe before.”
Alfred winked as he left the room. “That’s why I only got a head shot.”
“Damn, that man is sexy,” Kat said after Alfred was out of ear shot. “Well?” she asked expectantly.
“I still don’t know, Kat.”
She pretended to pout.
“Oh, I almost forgot, Ms. Wilson came by the shop yesterday.”
I had known Ms. Wilson all of my life. She was a little gray haired old lady who lived in town and made it her business to know everyone else’s business.
Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Series (Boxed Set, Books 1-3) Page 13
