Crimson Reign (31 page)

Shrouded in the gloom of night, Vischeral watched amazed yet again at the stupidity of the humans surrounding Vanessa. Collins walked right up to her, carried on a brief conversation and slammed a chloroform soaked rag over her nose. Though she struggled and he practically carried her limp form from the park, neither the three college boys kicking around a hacky sack and bullshitting about their dates the previous weekend, the mother and two children arguing over whether it would be McDonald’s or Pizza Hut for dinner, nor the businessman waiting rather impatiently on the bus and talking nonstop on his cell phone noticed the abduction. A growl of frustration rumbled low in his chest as Collins, moving fast now that he was away from the park, hauled Vanessa toward his parked van.

With the lightning speed inherited at his change, Vischeral darted after the killer only to be brought up short by a diminutive elderly female stepping directly into his path. His arms pin wheeled and his boots skidded on the pavement as he barely managed to stop. Frowning down from his six foot seven inch height, he smothered a growl when the feisty little female glared up at him. A reluctant grin curved his mouth when she slammed her purse into his thigh and groused.

“Young ones…always rushing. What the hell for?” She shook a finger up at him. “You think they’re going to move the damn building before you get there?” She swung her purse, clutched in the other hand, once more and then moved around him to unlock her low slung ‘69 Corvette. Seemed she wasn't as immune to speed as she let on. Chuckling at the senior’s audacity, he glanced down the street to see Collins’ taillights disappear into the light traffic. Undeterred, he ducked into the nearest alley and with just a thought sent his form winging towards Collins’ hidey hole.

As his physical self...reformed just outside the workshop behind Collins’ home, he heard the crunch of gravel as the van skirted the house and rounded the corner behind the shed. Doors opened and closed almost soundlessly. Only his enhanced hearing detected the stealthy movements blocked from his sight. Anger writhed through his gut as he listened to Collins mutter obscenities to an incoherent Vanessa while dragging her inside. One minute turned into thirty and then forty. Finally, sounds of the female stirring reached Vischeral's ears.

After waiting patiently for her to wake, Collins swiftly set his twisted game into play. In a college professor’s monotone, he explained to Vanessa exactly what he intended to do with her and to her. Vanessa’s terrified whimpers and muffled screams chipped at the icy shell around Vischeral's dark heart. Fading into the shadows, he eased open the shed door and slipped inside. His massive form made no noise. He knew the moment Vanessa realized he was there; her body sagged with relief if only for a moment. The scent of fresh blood clogged his nose as tears of pain erupted from Vanessa’s eyes.

He lunged from the shadows, one large hand landing on Collins’ neck and lifting him straight up from the floor, the other clamped around Collin’s wrist snapping the bones like twigs and forcing him to drop the knife. Collins’ scream of pain ricocheted around the woodshop and to stop the noise, Vischeral shook him. Hard. When the human’s brain was good and rattled, Vischeral lowered his arm until they were face to face. Opening his mouth, he allowed his fangs to lengthen, the sharp points extending past his lower lip. His words came out in a hiss.

“I hope you try to run, you sick fuck. I really do. I haven’t fed in a long, long time.” The acid bite of urine filled the air and Vischeral grinned maliciously. “Guess that means you plan to keep your ass planted while I free the girl.”

Collins landed in the corner, head slumped forward against his chest. Vischeral pulled his cell from his pocket. Star two connected him to the precinct. While requesting uniforms and an ambulance, he carefully removed the duct tape from Vanessa’s mouth then made quick work of the tape on her wrists and ankles. He read her intent and caught her easily when she launched herself at him. He cradled her trembling body against his chest until the paramedics arrived, but he was only too glad to hand her over to them and focus his attention on Collins when they appeared. Having cased the shop the night before, Vischeral deftly planted thoughts and directed the uniforms to what they needed to find. Collins would not be taking any more victims and Antonia would get justice.

A sharp slap brought Collins back to reality. Vischeral hauled the human filth to his feet by his handcuffed wrists, and quick marched him to a patrol car and shoved him inside. The ride to the station was short and cramped; his tremendous size did not fit well into the department issued Crown Vic. Processing went quickly as did Vischeral's written report. Sensing the sun not far below the horizon, Vischeral strode for the door.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

It only took two weeks for Copi to roll up and ship out. Fourteen short days, and the nightmare of losing his sanity was finally over. No more weird looks or interrupted whispered conversations. Seated on the sofa in the living room of a wooden cabin on the borders of the Chugach State Park, Copi whistled through his teeth as he surveyed the opulent comfort of his new surroundings. Inside his new home, it was warm. The wooden beams stained in rich dark oak made everything feel cozy. The kitchen was amazing, not that he cooked much. The bathroom was spectacular, with a spa bathtub deep enough to sink into and relax and a shower that could house a swat team.

At first, Copi felt there must have been some sort of mix up, but after reviewing the rental papers and checking the details once more, a stupid, excited, childlike grin spread across his face. The view! Crossing over the heated floors, Copi threw open the triple glazed patio doors. He was met with such an amazing scene of natural beauty, it took his breath away. The snow covered mountains ran on forever as did the endless forest of pine trees that blanketed them and ran along the base of them. Lush greenery scented the ice cold air with pine. Somewhere out west of where he stood, the mournful howl of a timber wolf echoed in the air, joined not long after by another eerie howl. The haunting wolf song sent a shiver down Copi’s spine, and he turned to head back inside with another of those face splitting grins spreading across his lightly stubbled face.

He laughed out loud and shook his head. The outdoor hot tub looked like it belonged in a football locker room. It was one feature of his new home he really looked forward to trying out. And soon. The subtle vibration of his cell in his pocket brought him back to earth. The short three word text informed him that his evening was about to get a little more eventful.

“My office. NOW!” Lambert didn’t waste a lot of time.

An hour later, after taking a wrong turn and ending up God only knew where and then backtracking, Copi sat opposite one of the biggest, roughest looking fuckers he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot for a cop from the Bronx. The man introduced himself as Chief, and damn near broke Copi’s hand with his handshake. He settled back in his huge expanse of a chair and ran over what he expected of Copi. The normal rules applied as they did in New York with the exception of the WST, Wildlife State Troopers. If he was assigned to work with them, he was to pay attention.

“The weather and the environment along with the wildlife around here can jump up and bite you in the ass. Literally.” The gruff voice bit out. “The weather can turn so fast it could be days before you’re found, if we can find you at all. In deep winter, the animals are starving; they’ll attack and eat anything they can find.”

Copi took it all in, and by the end of it, his head spun. With the move, the flight up, and his new job, including all the extra risks, Copi needed to be at the top of his game; that meant research…lots of research. He nodded, knowing he had a shit load to learn.

Copi immediately noticed when the Chief frowned. His face took on a sour look as though he’d sucked on a lemon. Copi started to rise from his seat. Shit! The fucker was turning grey! He watched puzzled as Lambert blew out a gust of air and lifted a hand to still Copi in place. His huge frame rose from his seat, and his deep baritone voice called out to someone Copi thought must have been a colleague.

“Bourne, my office. Now.” The Chief’s voice exploded with authority. “Now’s as good a time as any to meet your new partner.” He muttered under his breath before addressing Copi. “Heads up, no sudden movements. You don’t want to piss this motherfucker off. Take things easy and, please, try not to look him in the face. He gets a bit…growly, and don’t be offended, okay? He’s always this happy go lucky. You’ll get used to him. Eventually.”  He raised his voice again.

“Get your ass in here and meet your new partner.” An answering snarl crawled over Copi’s skin. He shuddered as the hairs on the back of his neck went up. A shadow seemed to creep over the room. What the fuck? Who turned out the lights? In slow motion, he turned around in his seat and found what was blocking the light source.

“Fuck me,” Copi whispered. If he thought the Chief was big, his size didn’t compare to the motherfucker standing in the middle of the room beyond. Damn! He had to be the biggest bastard Copi had ever seen. At six feet, the Chief stood pretty tall, but this guy…Jesus, he had to be what…six feet five, at least, and wide. Holy smokes, he was God damned immense. Copi’s gaze swept up the whole length of his new partner’s body. He couldn't stop the rush of icy adrenaline running through his veins, until a bolt of pain seared through his skull like a battering ram as his gaze approached the stranger’s face.

Stand up, fool, and shake his hand. Mentally reprimanding himself, Copi hiked his ass up from his chair and turned to face the doorway and his captivating new partner.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

“Bourne, my office. Now.” The Chief’s voice cut across the room; the demand for obedience making Vischeral’s skin crawl. He took one more step toward freedom.

“Get your ass in here and meet your new partner.”

Vischeral barely managed to catch the growl that sprung to his throat. Swallowing hard, he met the Chief’s unrelenting stare through the glass partition. “I do NOT work with partners. You…”

The Chief cut him off, his tone brooking no disagreement. “YOU. DO. FUCKING. NOW.”

This time the growl escaped and the officers filing past Vischeral backed away warily. Fighting for control, Vischeral forced himself to take the first step in the direction of his Chief’s office. Through the glass, he saw the outline of a good sized male in front of the desk.

Thank fuck it wasn’t a female. Females asked too many personal questions. They wanted to get to know their partners. A male saved him from being outright rude. Males didn't give a shit and if they did, he could terrify them into silence with less of a burden on his barely there conscious.

He stalked across the lobby of the department a blast of cold clearing the way before him as officers, staff and perps scrambled to stay off of his radar. A vicious sneer curled his lip as he watched the Chief disappear back into his chair behind the desk. He knew he scared the shit out of the man just as much as he did everyone else, but the human put up a good front and held his ground. Most of the time. Vischeral admired his fortitude and usually paid him the respect due him because of his position. At the moment, he was just too damned pissed off. Whoever was in that room was about to get a good mind fuck.

Vischeral didn’t want a partner, especially not a human partner who asked questions and filed fucking reports about everything. Determined to convince Joe Schmoe he didn’t want a partner either, Vischeral stepped into the cracker box sized office and stopped, planting his booted feet shoulder width apart. He crossed his arms across his chest and spared a glacial glance at the Chief before flipping frozen black eyes to meet the…holy fucktastic.

Vischeral’s reality warped as midnight eyes met amber. In a mere thought, he was transported from frozen to hell Alaska to a back alley in New York. Through his memory bank, he watched the dollar store blond waitress snap and pop her gum and check her watch. Obviously, she planned to meet someone. Vischeral had other plans for her, dinner plans as it were. He’d been on the verge of taking her when another human, a male…this male…entered the alley. The heady potent scent of male arousal had blasted into the forefront of Vischeral’s mind as the large human male, now sitting in the Chief’s office, moved quickly across the alley.

Vischeral had sank back into the cloaking darkness, his gaze missing nothing as the female offered up a kiss and was rejected. Undiscouraged, her hands had gone for the metal zipper and pulled it down just as the male opened his eyes. Amber eyes, the same ones he held now, had regarded him steadily. The moment their gazes had locked, Vischeral felt a bone deep response which had pissed him the hell off. It still did. His traitorous body reacted now with just the memory of the male’s aroused scent.

In the alley, Vischeral had surged to his feet, intent on leaving, but the fucking female had chosen that moment to inhale the male’s engorged shaft. Jealousy, white hot and fierce, had brought Vischeral out of the shadows, a growl vibrating his chest. That he was confused by his atypical response to the human male had only added to his rapidly escalating ire. Before he’d been aware of it, he’d moved and snatched the female away from the male, sinking his fangs deep into her throat when in reality it was the male he wanted. Relentlessly, he watched the male as he drank.

Beyond pissed off at his body’s quickening response to the male’s nearness, he’d been rougher with the female than usual. Her terrified scream had brought his attention back to her just long enough for him to gentle his touch and allow the lust pheromones to override her mind. She’d gone limp in his arms, her cries turning to moans. Self...preservation had him dropping the female and fading backwards when the male finally fought off the planted need to sleep.

Even in mist form, the contact with the male had almost been more than Vischeral could resist. Pissed off, confused, aroused and with his blood needs only half satisfied he’d transported himself back home immediately. But, those amber eyes…and that scent, neither of them had faded, fuck you very much, and now they were both here...in Welcome to Your Own Personal Nightmare Alaska.