Big Bad Bite (13 page)

Jenna covered her face with her hands.
Really? She’d had a brother for less than half an hour and she
already had the insane urge to smack him around. Peeking through
her fingers, she looked over to Adam who smirked back at her. And
it was a smirk that said he’d pulled the same stunt with his own
sister.

Jerk.

Sexy jerk, but still a jerk.

Chapter Seven

The tension that had blanketed the room just moments before slowly
started to seep away. Shoulders un-bunched, bodies loosened. The
signs of aggression that had choked the room were replaced with
wariness and curiosity. Feet shuffled as everyone stopped preparing
for a fight and instead started aligning themselves around their
respective alphas, Owen and Adam.

Jenna let her body relax back into the cushy
chair that she sat in. Uncle Owen reached behind his back and
pulled a copy of the Wilmington Daily from the waistband of his
pants. Unfolding it, he held it out in front of him, flashing the
picture of Jenna sitting on the ledge of the ambulance talking to
Kent.

“Want to explain this? I bet your mother hit
the roof.” Waving the paper around nonchalantly, “Or blew it off
the house.”

Jenna shrugged her shoulders. “What exactly
do you want to know about it?”

His deadpan expression was almost enough to
make her laugh. “Why you allowed yourself to be injured would be an
excellent start to the many questions I want answered.”

Sitting forward to let her arms rest on her
knees with hands clasped lightly in front of her, she looked at her
sports bra in the picture. That was seriously going to bug her.
Absentmindedly she murmured, “It wasn’t like I stood still and
pretended to be a turkey trussed up on Thanksgiving. They were
fast.
Shifters
.”

Owen’s demeanor tensed back up. “Shifters? Do
you know what kind?”

Tapping her nose, “Wolves. Several of
them.”

Owen and Logan stared at each other; having a
silent conversation consisting only of small facial tics that
utterly fascinated Jenna. She had a feeling they brought paranoid
to a whole new level in her family. After several moments they
simultaneously looked back to her.

“Can you get us to the morgue to see the
bodies?”

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a
number. Kent’s smooth baritone mumbled something after he picked
up.

“Kent, its Jenna. Are you busy?” She heard
what sounded like clothes rustling before a disgruntled female
voice asked him where he was going.

“Be right back baby. You keep that delicious
little body right there. It’s work; it’ll be just a minute.” A door
closed just after Jenna heard the words ‘promised me an
exclusive’.

“Are you sleeping with a reporter?”

She could hear the smug smile in his voice as
he responded, “She propositioned me, I swear.”

“Did she offer to boink like bunnies before
or after you promised her the exclusive, Kent?” Choked laughs
sounded at her exasperated outburst. Kent’s continued silence was
answer enough. “Despicable. Just slutty. You’re a man-whore of the
highest order. I hope you catch the demonic version of the
clap.”

Crooning words filled her ear from the other
end of the line. “Well you could come over here and change my mind.
Protect me from these reporters that are all but holding me down to
a bed so that they can bounce on the latest local hero’s
impressively large love pole.”

Adam’s responding growl didn’t just vibrate
through the room, it vibrated through her. Messing with body parts
that had absolutely no business jumping up and down in glee over
the possessive behavior he was exhibiting. Jenna ignored it as she
calmly crossed her legs in feigned indifference. “Are they serving
popsicles in hell yet? Because the day that happens, is the day I
jump into bed with your skanky butt, but forget about that.
Besides, it’s probably more likely that the reporter is bouncing on
a teeny tiny pogo stick than that overly exaggerated love pole you
claim to have. But that’s not why I called. Can you get me and my
Uncle into the morgue? I haven’t been there yet so I’m not an
authorized occupant yet.”

“You’re pulling me away from double D’s to go
look at dead people? Are you crazy?”

Jenna sighed in annoyance, “Fine. Go pump
your little Mike & Ike into the nosey reporter who is probably
going to be the first human in the history of the
Other
community to give a demon an STD, and then take us to the morgue.
Really, it should only take you like, what, five or ten minutes?
It’ll take me longer than that to meet you wherever we have to go
anyways.”

Wounded male pride sputtered from the other
end of the phone, “Ten minutes! Mike & Ike? Screw you,
O’Conner. You can find another way to get into the damn
morgue.”

Jenna glanced to Uncle Owen. He seemed to
know the question before she answered because he gave an almost
imperceptible nod. “What if I told you that it would be doing Alpha
Owen Davies a favor.”

Kent blew out a stunned breath. “As in, Pack
Master Davies?”

“As in
the
Pack Master Davies.”

He whistled in appreciation. “Then I’d say
meet me in two hours.”

*****

The New Hanover County Medical Examiner’s
Office was set up just several streets away from the Wilmington
Police Department Headquarters. This was why, when Kent had given
Jenna the address, he was confident she would be able to find it
even though she was new to town. Which, at the moment she was damn
grateful for the building being easy to find because if the
situation had been different, and Kent would have given Jenna
directions, she wasn’t entirely sure she could have remembered them
after Adam grabbed the back of her neck and laid a blistering kiss
on her lips before she was able to drive away. A kiss she was still
debating on whether she should kick him in the nads for because
he’d done it right in front of her brother and uncle, or tackle him
to the nearest bed and have her wicked way with him.

Her brain said to kick him in the nads.

Her body was telling her brain to shut the
hell up, rather loudly. They would need those nads when she tackled
him to the nearest bed and did their best impersonation of what
women's Viagra looked like.

Stupid body.

She parked her truck in front of an old brick
building that's architectural design looked as if it had been built
around the early 1900’s. One would expect that with that kind of
age, for the building to look rundown, but that assumption would be
decidedly wrong. One of the things Jenna had always liked on her
numerous trips to Wilmington, was the opportunity to look at the
historic buildings that riddled the city. They were well maintained
and helped convey stories of earlier times when horse drawn
carriages were sharing street space with the first automobiles. In
her opinion, it was neat that the buildings left standing were not
only restored but beautiful to look at as well.

In her peripheral vision, Jenna watched as
her uncle’s GMC Yukon pulled up next to her and rolled her eyes.
Men and their toys. They always had to have the biggest one with
the most buttons to push and the shiniest metal. It wouldn’t matter
if they were five with their Hot Wheels cars, or fifty-five with
their big boy trucks in the driveway, all men were the same. It was
an extension of their egos, or a compensation for what they lacked.
In her Uncle’s case, she would guess it was the ego.

Speaking of compensation, one of Wilmington’s
finest was waiting on the top step, arms crossed over his broad
chest, and leaning against the faded brick wall. “Took you long
enough, O’Connor.” Gruffness coated Kent’s voice. He was still
annoyed with her; maybe offering him some of her Mike & Ike’s
wouldn’t be a brilliant idea at the moment. Nonchalantly, she
shoved the small box of candy into her back pocket. Unfortunately,
the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Kent glared at her and she had to
suppress the giggles that were trying to erupt from her throat.
Logan seemed to be having the same problem.

Ah, men and their poor egos.

“Kent, I’d like you to meet my uncle Owen
Davies and my brother, Logan.” Chin lifts were exchanged between
the men. “Lead the way Kent; I know you want to get back to having
that reporter bounce on your pogo stick.”

The annoyance melted away from Kent’s face
before he pasted on a cocky grin. “Whatever, O’Connor. I know
you’re jealous because you would rather see my pogo stick than to
have the lovely Lana bouncing on it.”

He winked before turning away and walking
towards the door. When Kent pulled it open the stale smell of death
wafted over them. Its lingering presence was unwelcome, and made
her nostrils flare in annoyance.

The tile floor seemed to keep the coldness
hovering over it; with the temperature dropping the farther they
got from the main exit. She assumed they kept the big freezers in
the back. After her and Kent flashed their badges and signed in
they headed for the back, towards the arctic-feeling death keepers.
By the time they reached the double doors leading to the main
examination room, her breath was visible and her nose was burning
from the stench of dead shifters. Male wolf shifters always smelled
downright nasty after they died. Not sure why, but these guys, ugh
they smelled like rotten eggs. Jenna was guessing it was the lovely
aroma of their last meal wafting out. Kind of like when egg salad
goes sour. Kent looked at her questionably, as if silently asking
if she was okay with seeing day old dead bodies that she’d helped
to make that way. Had she ever had to kill an armed suspect before?
Unfortunately, yes. So that wouldn
’t
haunt
her. It came down to the idea of it was either them or her
surviving the situation, and in that case, she would always choose
herself. No, the only time dead bodies haunted her was when they
were the innocent victims. Not that she’d seen many of those in a
small town, but she had regrettably seen a couple of them, and
those were the ones that gave her nightmares. Not that she’d admit
that to Kent. She just rolled her eyes and pushed through the doors
to the coldest damn room she had ever been in.

“Shit, it’s freezing in here,” Logan
whispered, as he went crossed eyed watching his own breath escape
his mouth.

Retard. She couldn’t help but shake her head
at him while barely refraining from face palming herself. Thank God
she wasn’t that stupid. The doors swished closed behind them and
the white tile was replaced with smooth concrete and eight drains
in the shape of a square. Some were still wet, and the sound of the
water dripping down the pipes was the only thing they heard until
Kent opened one of the twenty 3 x 4ft stainless steel hatches that
lined the entire left wall. Gray, everything was gray, or silver.
No color whatsoever graced this room. The definition of drab and
dreary. The constant impression of death was everywhere. Steel
tables. Steel shelves. Steel bars on the windows. Steel surgical
tools.

Screech.

Uncle Owen was already at Kent’s side
unzipping the black heavy duty body bag of the first shifter and
pushing its sides open. The dead man’s vacant eyes were still open,
and his chest was marred by an ‘X’. Silver staples made his skin
look like the pucker of a crust of pie.

“Damn.” Uncle Owen cursed under his
breath.

Shaking his head, Kent proceeded to open the
other freezer hatches and slide out the other seven ‘John Does’.
Logan ripped the zipper back on the next one as Kent got to the
last while Jenna just stood there, trying to determine what would
make her Uncle scowl at the dead shifters that way.

Shit, at least they were dead and not trying
to rip their heads off.

Calmly walking over to him, she noticed all
three were staring at tattoos visible on six of the eight dead
bodies. They were placed on arms, chests, even necks, of the men.
Each of the six tattoos were different in design, but seemed to
carry the same theme. They all had a black raven and the letter C.
Definitely not your run-of-the-mill flash art.

Nodding her head to the bodies, she asked no
one in particular, “What’s up with the tats?”

No one answered, but Uncle Owen walked over
to the body closest to her, the one without a visible tattoo on the
front of it, and wrapped his hand around the back of the corpse’s
neck before lifting him up into a sitting position. The tattoo
mystery only seemed to deepen as they all got a close look at a
gigantic raven tattooed across the upper back of the dead shifter’s
body. Its wings were spread in flight across his shoulders, and in
one claw dangled a skull while the other claw grasped the plume of
a helmet that had letter C decorating the side. Uncle Owen laid the
body back down as Logan lifted the other seemingly un-tattooed
shifter into a sitting position to expose a bare back.

No tattoo.

Logan looked over at the others to make sure
that they’d all seen the empty skin before he laid the corpse back
down. He then rubbed the back of his neck as he looked back to
Uncle Owen. “What are the chances that he put the tattoo somewhere
else on his body?”

All three men cringed. It didn’t take a
rocket scientist to figure out that the only other places left on
the body to check was the back of the corpse’s legs, backside, and
man bits. Three sets of male eyes stared at her.

Cocking a hip and crossing her arms over her
chest, she challenged, “What are you looking at me for?”

Kent scoffed. “Well, I sure as hell don’t
want to look at his ass. Not to mention I already did you the favor
of getting you in here, so I’m not checking. Besides, the three of
you are shifters. Y’all are supposed to be comfortable with nudity,
right? So check him yourselves.”

Logan held his hands up in a pose of
surrender. “Just cause we have to get naked often doesn’t mean we
want to get near another guy’s junk.”