We reach the broad steps of large, official looking building. Wolf stops suddenly in front of me and I hear that sniffing sound he makes as he turns his head from one side to the other. He nods slightly, then cocks his head to look at me.
“You ready?” he asks.
The image of my hand reaching to brush his lips flashes through my mind. I have no idea what we are about to do but I can’t stop the inapt thought.
“Yes,” my mouth says while my mind still works to catch up and I have no idea what I’m saying yes to. I swallow, inhale deeply and follow him as he starts walking up the steps.
We pass a plaque that says ‘Rosenwold Museum’ so now I know where I am at least. It is well after hours and the place is closed, apparently locked tight. As we approach, the door opens and two giant men walk out. Instantly I recognize one of them as the man on whom I had pinned my hopes the night before. They are both at least seven feet in height with builds that any professional body builder would be proud of, stuffed into tuxedos that seem to be made of stretch material as I can see the outlines of their bulging muscles. The Street Man, as I dub him in my mind looks me up and down, leering eyes take in my figure, a slight smile forms at the corners of his lips.
“Mr. Dallas,” Street Man says. “No weapons inside.” He stops and Wolf, Dallas, stares coldly at him. Tension rises in the air, the hairs on my arms start to stand up. I can feel it building like electric charge.
Street Man raises a hand to his ear, his sleeve at his mouth. “Of course sir,” he says into his sleeve. “Right away.”
He steps aside and motions for us to go in the door. Wolf stalks in, I follow behind trying to feel as if I belong with him.
The hallways we walk are shrouded in darkness, moonlight is the only illumination. As we get closer to our destination I begin to hear the tinkle of glasses and soft music being played on some kind of string instrument. Gentle conversation drifts to my ears. A clammy sweat forms on my skin at the thought of entering an entire room filled with killers. The air is cool and dries my sweat almost instantly, causing me to feel chilled and shake. My heart seems to slow down as does the time. One beat of my heart takes several seconds. I feel as if I am walking through a thick morass.
Wolf pushes the ornate doors open and I am momentarily blinded by the sudden wash of light from the room. All sounds stop as he stands in the opening; conversations, music and glasses all go still. As my eyes adjust I see the wealthiest of the wealthy gathered at a social gala. I feel completely out of place in my borrowed sweats, loose shirt and tennis shoes.
“Dallas,” a deep baritone calls out ahead of us. “So glad you decided to come and join us this evening! What a pleasure.” A man approaches wearing a fine suit. He appears to be Mediterranean but his voice was devoid of accent. Baritone is shorter than Wolf, swarthy and slightly built. He smiles broadly, showing fangs.
Wolf stands without saying a word. I can feel everyone in the room waiting to see what happens next.
I feel, though I can’t see, Wolf tense in front of me. Baritone holds out a hand and Wolf stares at it for a long, strained moment before grasping the smaller man’s wrist and holding it firmly.
“So, Dallas, what brings you to town tonight?” Baritone disengages his hand and lets it drop.
“Someone needs killing,” he says into the tension of the room. I hears at least two gasps at this blunt announcement.
“Now Dallas, we have rules about such things. There is no killing on this sacred ground, you know this. We all agree to this. If we don’t follow such agreements, well then we have nothing but anarchy!”
Wolf growls, a low rumble that echoes through the room. I can feel it in my bones and it does not elicit fear in me as it should. It makes me feel safe. I think about hearing that growl with his lips pressed to my ear, hushed and just for me.
“Rite of Trial by Combat,” he says through the growl and my attention is pulled back to the room.
Baritone’s eyes widen slightly, the only hiccup in his perfect facade passes quickly before returning to stillness. “That . . .” he pauses as if for effect or to regain composure, I’m not sure which. “You’re right of course. Who do you accuse and on what grounds?”
“Damage of property,” Wolf says. “Aiver.” I hear a snort from a short distance away and turn to look at the source.
“What property you dirty animal?” I assume this must be Aiver. I also wonder what property Wolf, a man who lived in a cave, could lay claim to and who would want to damage any of it. What would be the value in it, who would gain from it?
Wolf turns to face Aiver. “Her,” he says pointing at me.
Holy shit. My emotions and thoughts run wild. The attention of every single creature in the room is on me and I feel nauseated. He has claimed me here in front of everyone. I can’t sort through the tangle of indignation, elation, terror, sickness and the strongest heat and tightening between my legs I have ever felt. My eyes widen and I sputter, unable to form words. I struggle to regain my composure, to make sense out of the overwhelming sensation that has just hit me like a truck. I felt warm and cold at the same time. This room is full of predators, ones who would kill me without a thought but all I can see is amber eyes locked on me.
“Her!” Aiver spoke out. “HER! You have no claim to her. She does not bear your mark, I would smell your stink on her from a mile away!” A small titter of laughter drifts through the room at that.
Wolf did not react at all, eyes still on me. “Combat,” he says into the renewed silence of the room.
“I can’t fight you, I won’t. What is your accusation in detail, how dare you walk in and threaten me with…“ Aiver stammers.
Wolf moves in a blur. One moment he is there next to me and in the next he has the man Aiver in the air by his throat silencing him. The crowd gasps but no one moves to interfere, all of them watching the train wreck happen before them but doing nothing to prevent the crash.
“You sent your gang to rape her, to kill her. You knew this would draw me out. Where is the one you sired?” Wolf looks around the room as he speaks.
Aiver squeaks but can’t form words.
“Oh that’s right, he’s dead. I know, I killed him first last night.” He tosses Aiver casually, a flick of his wrist and the man careens across the room coming to a rest against a wall.
Wolf turns back to Baritone and stalks slowly over to him. The room remains silent, waiting. “Combat.” He speaks quietly, eyes locked on the man in front of him.
Baritone nods. “Aiver, you stand accused. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty!” Aiver rasps, his throat bruised from Wolf’s grip.
“Well enough, choose your champion,” Baritone responds, never taking his eyes from Wolf.
“I choose Gregory Stones.” Aiver’s pronouncement elicits more gasps from the crowd. I look around trying to find out who Gregory Stones is and see Street Man has a grin on his face.
Baritone nods again, accepting this. “Then we retire to the Combat Circle.”
Everyone begins filing out a back door, talking in hushed, excited voices. I see money change hands as well as pieces of paper. In moments, Wolf and I are the only two remaining.
“Ready?” He asks me again.
I stare at him, Ready for what? I’d rather stay in here alone with him, or go back to his solitary cave, anything except step back into a pit full of killers. I know he’s going to go through with this, though and I won’t leave him, so I nod. He returns the nod and we follow the crowd.
We walk down a long stairway that takes us at least two stories deep and emerge into a round room with a dirt floor. The ceiling overhead is vaulted brick with hooks set into it. The crowd has worked their way around the walls leaving me to see that there is a circle drawn in the dirt. It fills the entire middle of the room.
Street Man stands on the far side. In this space he looks even bigger, his head has to tilt down to fit in under the low ceiling. He has taken his tuxedo jacket off revealing a t
ightly stretched t-shirt underneath it. He has more muscles than I thought was possible. He stretches and it sets off a ripple effect under the cloth. He brings his fists together and cracks his knuckles before he steps inside the circle.
Wolf moves to just outside the circle and turns to look at me. I step up close to him, reveling in the smell of him. I think fear has heightened my senses. He slips his duster off revealing a flannel shirt. He fills the shirt out nicely, but he is in no way a comparison to the size of the monster on the other side of the circle. He holds the jacket out and I take it. I’m surprised when he unhooks the gun belt from his hips and holds that out to me as well. I almost drop them when he lets go, the weight of his is much more than the set on my waist.
“If this goes wrong,” he says softly, looking into my eyes, “leave town. Tonight.”
My cold sweat returns. Goes wrong? What could go wrong, what was about to happen?
Wolf takes off his hat and places it on my head. His face is angular, dark; a red tone to his skin overlays the natural paleness of what he is. I notice that his ears stick slightly out of his black hair and are pointed with tufts of hair on them. I want to bury my hands in that hair.
“What is happening?” I ask, trying to pitch my voice for his ears only.
“I’m establishing my domain, my property.” His voice is so low it is a rumble.
When he says property the tightness in my belly returns forcefully. I squirm uncomfortably, wanting something to ease the pressure. I want him. I’ve been with several men in my life, but he is the only one I’ve chosen. In that moment I choose him. I want him, to be his and him to be mine. I move in close to him and raise up onto my toes, pressing my hips into his. I run my hand over his jaw and to the back of his head, turning his face to mine. He lets me and lowers his mouth to my lips. I gave him his claim and in it I took mine. My awareness of the world narrows to the contact of my body against his and I make a small sound in the back of my throat as I move my pelvis against him.
My whimper evokes that low growl I desire, but Wolf breaks the embrace and sets me away from him.
I stand, flushed and embarrassed at myself as Wolf steps into the circle. The low buzz of the room goes silent when he crosses into the combat arena.
Baritone walks into the circle, looks at each of the men and nods, then raises a hand to speak. “Combat has been invoked. Champions have been chosen. Now the Dark Mother will show us the rightness of the claims laid out.”
He steps back out of the circle and nothing happens. Wolf and Stones stand looking at each other and then Wolf walks up to Stones and stops. Stones towers over him. Wolf is not short, he is over six feet tall, but Stones dwarfs him. Wolf could lay down on Stones’ shoulders and practically stretch out.
Stones swung, an oncoming freight train heading right for Wolf. The blow connects and my stomach sinks at the force of the impact. I feel it in my own bones. Wolf’s head is ripped to the side, blood flies out across the circle. The crowd cheers.
“Yeah!” I hear Aivers scream. Wolf raises one hand to his jaw, moving it back and forth. He looks up at his opponent and nods. Then he stands there, doing nothing. Stones looks confused, he glances around the room. “Kill him!” Aivers screams again and some of the crowd takes up the chant. “Kill him, kill him!”
Stones swings again, a right across Wolf’s face followed by a left to his stomach. Wolf rocks and grunts with the force of the blows. How he keeps his feet I’ll probably never know but he stands there still. Stones doesn’t let up. He starts punching, each hit a pounding hammer slamming into Wolf. Each strike a powerful blow that rocks him but never drives him to his knees. Stones’ fists are covered in blood from the force of the impact against flesh. Finally he stops, breathing hard. Wolf’s head is bowed as he stands there. He looks up at Stones.
“Done?” Wolf asks.
Stones shakes his head, a look of fear coming into his eyes. Wolf attacks. I don’t see the blows, I feel them. The hits are faster than the eye can follow. I’m not sure he even moves but Stones definitely reacts. In moments he is on his knees at Wolf’s feet. Wolf looks at me, his amber eyes shining from his bloodied and bruised face.
“Come here.” Wolf motions with his hand.
I walk towards him, my own will seemingly gone. The room is a fog around me, the crowd watching merely unreal spectators in my dreamscape. He has done this for me, beaten this man down because I was threatened. My heart beats quicker as I stand in front of Wolf. He reaches over to take his hat off of me, placing it back on his own head. He takes up his holster and belt, fastening them in place. He swings the duster around and slides it over his shoulders. He looks down at me and then he pulls one of the pistols from the holster at my side. He hands it to me and I take it without a word.
The pistol was heavy on my hip and it is even heavier in my hand. I feel the cold handle against my skin. This small thing of steel and gunpowder in my hand has the power of life and death. Wolf looks at me, watching me, weighing me and then he nods. He puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me over to where Stones is kneeling on the ground. He guides my hand holding the pistol, placing it against the bleeding man’s head.
“This thing,” he spoke slowly, “works for Aivers. Aivers sent those men last night to rape you, then kill you. It had nothing to do with you. He wanted to draw me out. This thing hired the gang, this thing paid them. This thing stood to one side, watching, taking pleasure from what was being done to you. He ran, before I could catch him.”
As Wolf spoke Stones looks up at me, his dead eyes staring into mine past the cold metal in my hand. There was no fear, only acceptance of his fate. I saw in him all the things he has done, the evil he has committed in the world in service to his master.
I feel in control. I realize that accepting Wolf’s instruction and viewpoint is giving me a level of power I have never felt before. I follow this man but I do so of my own choice. I am not just rolling with what life is throwing at me. I don’t have to just take what is handed to me, I don’t have to just roll over and do what other people want. I can make this choice, I can decide to kill this man for what he has done to me and many others.
I see, I judge, I act. I am a predator, not prey.
The kickback of the gun is surprising, it is much more than I expect.
Wolf nods, looking around the room once. His eyes lock on Aivers for a moment.
“Mine.” He states, pointing at me. No one moves. We turn and walk out of the room.
We walk through the woods together. The wolves fall in as soon as we reach the edge of the forest. I follow Wolf, neither of us speaking. He uses few words and I have none to share. He leads us deep; I hear the river long before I see it. We come upon a small waterfall that agitates the water. He stops at the edge, drops his guns and his hat and then walks into the water fully clothed. I watch silently for a moment then I follow suit.
I close the distance between us and wade up behind him as I grab a handful of grit from the river bed and use it to scrub his hair clean. The water runs red around us then goes clear. He turns to look down at me and I wrap my arms around him, laying my head against his chest.
“I’m not prey,” I whisper. I feel hollow inside, colder; something has changed. I am different. I have never killed before for any reason. I am no longer Lily. Lily was rocked by the world around her, she controlled nothing. I will no longer hide, no longer struggle to just survive. I will create my world.
“Predator,” he replies. In the distance a wolf howls, joined by many others.
“Lynx,” I say softly. I join his world, no matter how dark or what the cost. My decision is my own. I walk with predators in a world where you are either predator or you are prey. Dallas has taught me that it is my choice which one I want to be.
That was the turning point for this girl, the point where I went from being Lily to being Lynx. That night I met Wolf when he claimed me as his and I claimed him as mine.
<<<<>>>>
What happens to
Lily and Wolf?
Beast (Predator & Prey Book 2) www.amazon.com/dp/B00N3IJZ16
Thank you for reading!
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Predator & Prey. This is the first short story of I hope many for these characters.
If there is any feedback you want to give, good or bad please send it to [email protected]. We are happy to hear from you always! You can also visit us on the web at www.jamesdhorton.com
Finally, we’d like to ask you a favor. If you’re so inclined, we’d love a review of Predator & Prey. Loved it, hated it – we’d just enjoy your feedback.
As you may know, reviews can be tough to come by, especially for a self-published author. You, the reader, have the power now to make or break a book. If you have the time here’s the link to my author page on Amazon. You can find all my books here: www.amazon.com/author/jamesdhorton
Thank you so much for reading Predator & Prey.
In Gratitude,
James D Horton
About the Author
James D Horton is a breakout new author of the Predator & Prey series which is an urban fantasy setting with a paranormal romance story. It features vampires and the human Lily who falls in with the enigmatic Wolf, who is not your run of the mill vampire. The story starts in Predator & Prey, then continues in Predator & Prey: Beast. The third book in the series is in progress which is Predator & Prey: Control, which will wrap the first set of books focusing on Lily's story.
He is also the author of two popular non-fiction books which are relationship advice books presenting the successful actions that he and his fiancé use to make their relationship better every single day with their six children.
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