Serial 4

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Serial 4 Page 2

by Lily White


  I heard the keys click in the front door and Pet’s voice called out the moment it opened.

  “Jude? Babe?” she called out, a sharp edge of desperation in her words. “Are you here?”

  “In the living room,” I replied, downing the last of my beer and standing to greet my pet.

  She ran to me, her tight little body rigid with excitement and relief. She was almost like a little dog seeing its owner after a delayed absence. “Oh my god, Jude, I thought they were never going to let me see you again.”

  A sob hitched her voice and I dragged her into my arms.

  “Oh tish,” I replied and stroked her hair. I inhaled her scent and reveled in the feel of her body against mine. “You know that would never happen.”

  “I know it’s true though,” she replied slowly, looking up at me with a steely glint in her beautiful eyes.

  “What’s true?” I asked and kissed her forehead, bracing myself for her next words. I was ready to burst, ready to plow into her and fuck the truth out of both of us.

  But I needed to hear her say it.

  “I know you killed all those girls,” she said slowly, “and I know why you did it.”

  She gave me a wicked grin and the girl in Agent Blake’s photographs flashed into my mind. I clued in then, how my beautiful, perfect pet had saved my ass.

  And I loved her even more for it.

  “So why did I do it?” I asked, holding her arms and staring down into her eyes.

  “Because it feels so fucking good,” she replied evenly, her eyes blazing and her smile a perfect little curve exposing her delicate little teeth.

  Teeth that had torn off a woman’s nipple, teeth that had tasted flesh and found glory in it.

  “Fuck yes,” I exhaled and pulled her against me. I kissed her, tasting her sweetness, imagining her mouth full of blood, our tongues exchanging the flesh of our victim.

  I pushed her back against the wall and devoured her, kissed her up and down, tore her clothes off and found myself between her quivering thighs.

  I parted her pussy and heard her sharp intake of breath.

  “No” she moaned and tried to hold my head back away from her, “I didn’t know you were getting out. Donovan and I…just this morning…it’s dirty…”

  “I don’t care,” I replied, looking up at her, “I need to taste you.”

  I plunged my tongue between her lips and licked her dripping wet cunt. I could taste him too, a pungent salty addition to her own sweetness. I ached to fuck her hard, to expunge him from her body with my conquering seed, but I felt a strange compulsion to drink of him first.

  To consume my enemy, make him mine. There was power in it there.

  She groaned and ran her hands all over my head, gripped my hair, and ground her cunt against my face.

  “Oh Jude,” she exhaled, “I missed this. I wanted this every time Donovan was down there. I saw you, babe, I wanted you.”

  I responded by digging my finger up inside of her, fucking her hard with three of them while I lapped at her clit like a greedy dog. She gasped and shuddered, squeezed her thighs together, and came on my face.

  Her juices soaked me from forehead to chin, I smelled of her and him, I tasted them both.

  As she slowly regained herself, I moved back up her naked body. I kissed her deeply and she fumbled for my belt, my pants.

  I helped her pull my clothes off, bent her over the sofa and opened her up from behind.

  “I’ve been thinking about this cunt,” I rasped and dragged the head of my cock up her slick crack, “The entire time I was away, this is what sustained me.”

  “It’s all for you,” she cried out and bucked back against me. I teased her some more, taunting her pussy with my throbbing cock.

  “It is,” I said in a low, dangerous voice, “And I’m going to fuck you raw. Sis.”

  At that, I drove myself home and filled her up. She pulled and cried out, tried to twist around and understand what I had said. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the truth of our parentage, but I wasn’t about to ruin this moment with a long heartfelt talk.

  I grabbed a handful of her hair and held her down as I pummeled her with my pent up hunger.

  She finally wiggled enough that she almost made eye contact, her head craning around on her neck.

  “What did you call me?” she gasped, her eyes rolling with pleasure as I slammed into her again.

  Perhaps I should have waited to use the name. She wouldn’t stop asking until I revealed the truth. I knew that now, so I gave her the information she wanted while continuing to use her body for what it was created to do.

  “I called you sis,” I growled, “We share the same father.”

  “We’re related?” she moaned and relaxed, pushed back against me and took me deep inside of her.

  “We are, Pet,” I replied, my ragged breathing filling the spaces between the sounds of our naked flesh slapping against each other. “I’m your big brother.”

  “Oh my god,” she cried out and started to sob. She attempted to pull away, disgust coloring her skin, but I held on, my fingers like vice grips on the thick, soft portions of her skin.

  I didn’t stop in response to her objections. I pounded her pussy with everything I had, fucking her until I thought we were both going to explode.

  And then we did, I came, shot my hot load deep inside her tight cunt, felt her walls clench and her body respond with greedy desire. She milked me with her twitching pussy, drew every drop out of me, filling her up.

  I realized the noises she made weren’t sobs, but laughter. I loosened my hand in her hair and let her up off the sofa. She twisted in my arms and looked up at me, her face fresh and light.

  “What’s funny?” I asked and kissed her quickly.

  “You’re my brother,” she replied with a grin.

  “And?”

  “I knew there was something I liked about you. My mother always said I was an egomaniac. I liked that you were part of me, I guess she was right.”

  “She was very right,” I replied and kissed her again. When we broke apart, I laughed to join her. “I guess we’re both a little narcissistic. It’s rather like fucking one’s self, isn’t it?”

  We staggered to the bedroom, drunk on our love and discovery. We were perfect for each other, two halves of the whole, and completely caught up in our own greatness.

  3 Patty Wilson

  Patty wasn’t sure how she’d managed to find her way home. She knew the city better than most, but the area where she’d been released had been unfamiliar ground.

  Wandering the streets barefoot and covered in dirt and blood hadn’t been the best of ideas, but she’d had no choice. The cover of night had been a welcome reprieve, however, hours wandering finally delivering her home where her darling daughter slept inside.

  Standing outside the door, Patty glanced down at her appearance wishing like hell that she didn’t have to walk inside covered in filth. It was still early enough that she could dare to hope that her precious daughter, Sarah, was still soundly sleeping.

  She wouldn’t touch her daughter with the evidence of ruin speckling her skin. Once cleaned – of both the grime and the life she’d lived before being taken – she’d allow herself to take Sarah into her arms with the promise that life would change for both of them now that Patty had been given a second chance.

  A car passed by as she stood on the sidewalk, the slow, thick crunch of tires against concrete drawing Patty’s attention. Angling her body without turning fully, she caught the eyes of the man driving the vehicle, noticed the venom in his stare.

  The car was non-descript, an average sedan that wasn’t out of place in the run down hovel she called home.

  Ignoring the man’s gaze, she returned her attention to the house, sucking in a deep, calming breath before taking the first steps inside to her awaiting child.

  Opening the door, she fought to close the swollen wood against the jamb, the walls shaking with her effort and causing her
to cringe. Her mom and John would both be asleep so she could sneak in undetected. She would avoid their questions for now and handle their anger over her disappearance after she’d cleaned up.

  Thankful for the small favor of fate, she closed the small distance between the living room and the bathroom, shutting herself inside before turning on the shower to cleanse herself this one final time.

  Promises of a better life were her companions beneath the blasting water, her hopes absorbed into the steam that carried away each nightmare she’d endured.

  Fuck Jason and his drugs. Fuck the life of a prostitute. If she had to wait tables for a living and scrape by on nothing, she’d do so to give Sarah an honest life.

  Her body trembled beneath the weight of truth that she could have died in that deserted warehouse. Her body could have been the one left naked and bloody in a grassy field.

  But it wasn’t her, and she raised her face into the spray of water to thank God that he’d given her a chance to make up for her mistakes in the life of her precious daughter.

  She’d make better choices. Honest choices. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the same complications that had marred her life up to that point. She had made a bargain with the devil herself and vowed that she would do whatever it took to keep Sarah safe. To uphold her end of the deal. To keep silent.

  Pulling herself from the shower, she toweled off and crept from the steam filled bathroom, padding barefoot to the room she shared with her little girl.

  Sarah lay sleeping in her crib, her face peaceful and cherubic in the dim morning light that streamed in from behind the drawn curtains.

  Quickly pulling clothes over her tired and battered body, she chose items that covered every inch of her skin, both shutting out the cold and covering the bruises and cuts that would fade as she forged a new path in life.

  Lifting Sarah from her crib, Patty hugged the small body to her own. Inching down onto the small bed she’d barely slept in since Sarah was born, Patty found comfort in the wiggling child. Cooing with a soft voice, she sang a soft song that eased Sarah back into peaceful sleep within minutes.

  Closing her own tired eyes, Patty’s lips pulled into a smile.

  Despite the odds, despite the nightmare, she’d survived.

  4 Ronnie

  Jude lay sleeping beside me, his thick hair a stark contrast on the pillow, black against white, night against day. I couldn’t sleep even though my body was sore from him having been inside it tearing me apart while somehow putting me back together.

  The fear and anxiety of the past few nights was lost as soon as I found him home. Everything I’d done had been for him, at least initially it had.

  Shaking my head against the thoughts, I couldn’t believe the sudden turn my life had taken in the last forty-eight hours.

  I’d killed.

  I’d died inside.

  And I’d been reborn to a reality I’d never known had existed.

  Something inside me had come to life. All the years I’d spent searching, hiding within the fringes of society never understanding my full potential were an ugly scar that revealed the truth that I’d been lost.

  Anger poured into my thoughts, bitter regret that I’d somehow missed the mark, I’d somehow missed the path my life should have taken after being birthed from the seed of a monster.

  I’d never known the identity of my father until now, never understood that within my veins pulsed the blood of a man who, on the surface, had achieved everything.

  My mother’s blood had diluted it somewhat, my life with her leading me astray from the potential I’d never thought I could achieve.

  A brother and sister in love. The thought was disgusting, but I didn’t see it that way.

  Memories surfaced, faints bits echoing in my head of a young boy that acted cruelly towards me. I’d known Jude before falling victim to a poor and unfortunate life. And I knew him now in ways that made me shine from within.

  The bitterness faded at the realization, the anger and hatred of the life I’d been handed suddenly melting away and replaced by the keen understanding that this is how it was meant to be.

  If I’d known all those years that he was my brother, if I’d been given the chance to know him before he’d plucked me from the filthy diner where we’d met, I wouldn’t be where I was at that moment.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping, Pet? I could have sworn I’d exhausted you.”

  His voice was lyrical and gritty, thick with the remnants of sleep. Gazing down at the beauty of his masculine face, I grinned. “We have work to do, you know? This isn’t over yet. Donovan will never stop chasing us.”

  “We could run. Somewhere far away where he’ll never find us. I have accounts overseas, enough money to live on for the rest of our lives and never feel pinched. Lucky for you, I guess.”

  Reaching up, he traced a fingertip along the line of my jaw. “We could go to the mountains. Or maybe you’d prefer a beach somewhere. Hell, if we run fast enough we might make it somewhere nobody will ever find us. Not that we need to.”

  I looked down when his voice stopped, returning the grin he flashed up at me.

  “You did good, Pet. Real good, in fact. I’ll admit, I’m a little shocked by what you’ve done. Did you kill the one I had waiting?”

  Before I could answer, he withdrew the question. “No. You didn’t, did you? That body in the photo Donovan showed me wasn’t at all familiar now that I think about it. Who was she and where is the woman I left in the warehouse?”

  Swallowing down a sigh, I blinked and glanced away from the haunting beauty of his face. “She was some prostitute I found. The one you kept helped me clean up the scene and dump the body. I let her go afterwards.”

  He shot up in bed, supporting his body on an elbow as he gripped my face to turn my eyes in his direction. “You let her go?”

  Anger rolled in the depth of his blue eyes. “Pet. And here I was praising you. We have to find her and –“

  Placing a finger over his mouth, I smiled. “I let her go for a reason, Jude. You’ll see. For once in your life, let somebody else take control. You need your rest. We have one last thing we have to accomplish before running away into the night.”

  His eyes searched mine before he visibly relaxed. “What do we need to accomplish?”

  Leaning down, I placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “We have to burn that warehouse to the ground.”

  5 Donovan Blake

  FBI – Behavioral Unit Field Office

  Defeated.

  I was fucking defeated by a jackass in a pretty black suit and the girl he could call both his lover and his sister, according to what his mother said during their visit.

  A girl I couldn’t get off my mind or out of my blood.

  Leaning up against the heavy wooden desk in the conference room, I scrubbed a heavy palm over my face. Papers were strewn on the surface of the wood, reports and photographs, the sightless eyes of dead bodies staring up at me and accusing me of having lost the ability to see these cases through.

  My shoulders sagged with the sickening truth of my failure. But it wasn’t enough to urge me forward against the man I knew was responsible for these crimes.

  A body appeared while he was incarcerated. All signs would point to a different killer, but I knew better.

  I’d been with the woman who’d planted that body. My hands had gripped her hips while fire and insanity burned behind her pretty blue eyes. Ronnie wasn’t the helpless victim everybody believed. She was cunning. She was methodical, and somewhere inside her there was a monster aching to climb out, a monster that mirrored the one I carried as well.

  My head fell back as my eyes clenched shut, my jaw ticking with the fury and rage I was feeling. I didn’t hate Jude or Ronnie for their ability to escape my efforts to capture them – I envied them for the freedom they had to explore the darkness they kept hidden from the outside world.

  Admitting the truth of my feelings was tearing me apart. Bloodthirsty and carna
l, I craved the control and terror that were implicit to the monsters I chased. But each time I tried to return to the façade of my position in the FBI, my thoughts raced back to a beautiful girl with fire in her eyes and the freedom to forge paths I’d been hired to prevent.

  My mother’s words rang in my head, the echoed reminder that I walked a line between what was right, and what was unforgivably wrong.

  If cops weren’t cops, they’d be crooks, Donovan. You know it’s true. I see that in your eyes as easily as I’d seen it in your father’s… You follow the law because you swore yourself to that path, but what would you be if you’d never accepted the shield? A killer, that’s what. You’re a killer now. The only difference is you have a license to get away with it.

  I’d denied her statement then…but I couldn’t deny it now. I’d tasted the freedom of a killer’s tongue, and all I wanted was more.

  “There you are, Agent Blake,” the door slammed shut behind Emily as she strode into the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Her confidant stride was marked by the click of her high heeled, conservative black leather shoes. Her tan skirt was pressed to perfection, riding up stocking covered thighs that shone beneath the lights of the empty conference room.

  The picture of perfection as usual, Emily wore a modest black, button up top, the top buttons loosened just enough to give a hint of her breasts beneath the fabric.

  “What do you want, Agent Chase? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “Busy licking your wounds maybe, but that can wait for later.” She paused, her observant eyes searching my face for any indication of the emotions lying beneath. I’d perfected a blank expression years ago, and I knew she wouldn’t penetrate the dead stare in my eyes.

  “We have a break in the case,” she admitted, her eyes still searching for a reaction she wouldn’t receive. “Perhaps you can leave this room for a few hours so we can follow it up. It’s promising.”

  My spine straightened as my shoulders rolled back. Three days ago and a break would have been an answered prayer, but now, knowing who was behind the latest body, the last thing I wanted to do was solve this case.

 

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