Desires Unleashed (19 page)

“How did you know it was a man's body?” he asked.

Warren smiled slightly. “I could smell the iron in the blood. It's stronger than the iron in a female's blood stream,” he said, his smile widening.

“How come you couldn't tell that earlier when we were at the crime scene? The blood was a little fresher then?”

Warren sucked air through his teeth, making a 'smacking' sound. He stopped walking, catching the other man's arm to stop him from going any further. He leaned closer to his partner to whisper in his ear.

“Well, at the crime scene, I was focusing too much on controlling my hunger and maintaining my composure to focus my senses. Now, I'm not hungry, the flesh doesn't smell all that appealing and I'm able to concentrate. That's why I wanted to smell the fur he found. I've got a more defined scent now. I don't know how much that's going to help us, but at least it's a fucking start,” he whispered. He didn't want anyone to hear that little bit of information. He knew there were cameras throughout the building and didn't want to get caught revealing this aspect of his nature.

“You two look like love birds,” observed an officer walking down the hallway who had caught Warren invading Matthew's personal space by leaning against his ear like a lover whispering sweet nothings to his mate.

“Well, we're not, asshole! So you can keep walking. Show's over.” Warren said as he flipped Officer Ronen the finger. Officer Ronen held up his hands as if he was preparing to defend himself from an attack. His blue eyes widened as he shook his blonde crew cut head from side to side.

“Hey, all's I'm saying is, it looked questionable. What you two do in the privacy of your bedrooms is certainly none of my damn business. I'm just saying, keep that shit in the bedroom where it needs to be,” he said jokingly, with a hint of malice. Those two always seemed a bit sexless to him. Never flirting with the female officers in the division or a female, period. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever heard either of them even talking about fucking a female. He'd just assumed they were both gay since they weren't married or involved.

Both Warren and Matthew rolled their eyes and walked away from Officer Ronen. He watched them walk away, side by side down the hallway. One word formed in his mind and he whispered it through his lips
“Fags.”

Warren's ears picked up the insult. His shoulders tensed. He fought the urge to turn around and march right back to that
prejudiced son of a bitch and put him in a hurt-lock, before planting his body into the plaster covered cement wall.
Instead, he continued to walk away. It would be hard to explain how he'd heard him from more than fifty feet away in the first place. Very hard indeed, especially since superhuman hearing is a standard characteristic of the very being they were trained to police.

“What an asshole!” Warren said as they stepped into the elevator. Matthew pushed the number two button. The mirrored doors closed, leaving them with their reflections staring back at them.

“Yeah he is, which is why he can't keep a fucking partner longer than six months. No one wants to work with the motherfucker. The partner he's got now has lasted the longest, they might be birds of a feather, ya know. Both assholes,” Matthew said. Both men chuckled as they walked out of the elevator and headed toward their desks to look over the printout on the most recent missing persons.

CHAPTER 12

S
ergio lifted his head up lazily, looking at the sun shining brightly through the floor length French windows of his bedroom. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the light, then let his head fall back, face first into the pillows. He was trying to will the sleep out of his body. The angle of the light meant it was late in the afternoon, showing he had slept most of the day away. Rolling over on his back, he stretched the long length of his well formed body. His back arching up high, released the tension in his muscles. He relaxed, staring at the ceiling, letting his mind wander. His hands rested lightly on his stomach, two fingers playing with the black curling hair trailing from his abdomen to his groin. He lay there, thinking about the night before and what he wanted to say to Elise. He had to figure out a way to make her see him, she needed to be with her own kind. He didn't like Darian, but he respected him for being honest. He knew right away from Darian's behavior that he had never promised Elise the life she fantasized. He had never claimed to love her. Sergio allowed himself to wonder just how good Darian was in bed to have a woman like Elise so enthralled with him. He thought it was safe to say that Elise was..
.what do you say when a woman is “pussy whipped”? “Cock slapped”, perhaps?

He looked over at the clock, noting that the time was 1:45 P.M. He composed himself then crawled out of bed. Feeling the urgency of his needs pressing him, he made his way to the bathroom. Afterward, he stood over a porcelain pedestal sink with round porcelain ball handles and began to brush his teeth. Turning on the porcelain and gold handles in the shower, he adjusted the water temperature and pressure. He liked the water to hit him hard, it relaxed his muscles and felt like a massage. He prepared his towel for afterward, stepped inside the steamy shower, closing the door behind him. Letting the hot water pour over his body, he lathered up his smooth, olive colored skin. Once his hair and body were clean, he rinsed off. Stepping out of the shower, he dried off. Wrapping the towel around his narrow waist, heading toward the closet. He pushed clothes backward and forward on the rod, looking for something comfortable to wear. He would really have to go shopping soon, this was getting ridiculous.

He found a pair of black jeans and a red v-neck t-shirt. He pulled it on and checking himself in the mirror. He looked down and adjusted “the boys”. He never wore underwear, so he preferred to have himself tucked comfortably in the left. Many of the female leopards had chosen him when they were in heat. Not only was he well equipped, he knew how to brandish his sword. He wanted to show Elise, more than anyone, that he could contend with the best of them, even Darian.

Satisfied with his appearance, he decided it was time to find Elise. He walked across the black carpeted floor past his king-sized bed, through the double doors and into the active hallway. Two members of the Pride were walking past, talking about movies they had seen at the theater, which movie they were going to see at the theater and which movies that should never have been made. The hallway was brightly lit with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The floor was covered with beige carpeting all the way down the stairs. The carpet ended at the main floor where it met the beige and white marble tile. The entire room was decorated with cream and tan French furniture with wood trim.

Elise loved the craftsmanship of the French, since she was French herself. She would go out of her way to obtain the most exquisite and rare pieces of furniture she could find, the best money could buy. She would pay craftsmen to design all types of furniture, just for her. She was a fan of art and adored the works of several French painters. Many of the walls were decorated with their paintings. She had marble statues decorating the hallways and main parlor. The Pride enjoyed her famed sense of taste in both fashion and furnishings. There were times the more masculine of the Pride, such as Sergio, thought the house was just too feminine and needed to be toned down.

Elise resented having to remove even the smallest bit of furniture to appease the other Pride members, but it was her duty. Her role was to keep the Pride together and take care of them. So as it was, she had to make their living quarters bearable for all. Pity. Sergio once made her get rid of a pink fountain that she had installed in the main parlor. The fountain had several naked cherubs floating on clouds, surrounding and looking adoringly at a life-sized replica of Elise herself, carved in alabaster. Sergio had declared it was “over the top” and “in the way”. She protested, but was finally outvoted by everyone in the Pride. Thus, the fountain now adorned the garden patio.

He made his way to the kitchen, he was starving. Sleeping the day away hadn't helped his appetite, it was raging. Poking his head inside the den, he said hello to Pride members in the room. Some lay stretched out on the soft, thick, brown carpeted floor or divans as they watched TV, others wrestled with each other playfully or napped. When he reached the kitchen, he headed straight for the refrigerator. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, a master chef's dream. Everything, from microwaves to the electric stove top, separate broiler, oven, and roaster were built-in. The refrigerator itself was built into one wall and wooden cabinets covered the other three walls. Sergio opened the refrigerator, searching for something quick to fix and good to eat. He spotted the lunch meat, cheese, milk and fruit. He pulled it all out, making himself two triple-decker sandwiches stacked with several thick slices of chicken, turkey and beef lunchmeat. Three slices of cheese per sandwich, with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, green peppers, mustard and mayonnaise. He filled a twenty ounce glass with whole milk, grabbed a pear and apple from the package, and headed into the den to eat his meal.

As he entered the den, four pair of eyes looked up at him, two of them silently begging for just a small taste. Sergio threw them a stern glance, sat down in a comfortable, tan recliner and began eating the first of his sandwiches. He glanced up to see what was playing on the television. Although it was a rerun of the
Dave Lappelle Show
someone had recorded, it was a new episode to him. He enjoyed the variety comedy show, liked the daring comedian whom the show was named for. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room as a sketch played out. Right away, he knew either Devin or Arianna had recorded this show. They loved watching the skits on the
Dave Lappelle show.

“Can I have some?” asked a greedy fifteen year old of the Pride. It was Sebastian, Sergio's son. He wasn't a full-fledged leopard yet, he hadn't come of age. When he hit maturity, he would experience his first change, which would be complete, marking him as an adult. As it stood now, his senses were more acute than any human his age. His speed was faster, but not abnormally so, as was his strength. He stood at five-feet four-inches, fair of skin with freckles sprinkled over his cheeks, arms and legs. He was wearing a pair of cutoff shorts and a wrestling t-shirt featuring several of his favorite wrestlers. He brushed dark red bangs away from his gray eyes as he focused on the sandwich as it went toward Sergio's mouth.

“I was waiting for one of you cats to start begging for my food,” Sergio chuckled. “No, no and no! No one can have a piece or just a little bite or a taste, none of that! If you're hungry, there's plenty left, make yourselves a sandwich just like this one,” he said firmly to the entire room in his thick Italian accent, hoping he got the message across that he was far too hungry to share. There were a few disappointed looks from the potential beggars.

“Dang, Dad!” Sebastian exclaimed as he rose to make himself a sandwich. He knew his father was the dominant male in the Pride but sometimes he thought he was too possessive, he could have given him a bite,
dang it
!
Two more rose and walked out of the room. They all returned ten minutes later with two huge sandwiches apiece. Sergio chuckled to himself.
It
wasn't until someone else made something look good, then everyone wanted a piece of it.

He rose from the chair and stretched again. It felt great to him to tense then relax his muscles. He felt like going for a run. After his talk with Elise, he may do just that. He was dreading the talk he had to have with her. She had a way of tuning out the things she did not want to hear, making excuses for things she wanted to do or had done, trying to get people to see things her way. Well, he wasn't going to see things her way. Not about the issues he needed to discuss. He left the room and headed for her bedroom, hoping she was still there.

He knocked on her bedroom door. When there was no answer, he wondered if she was still asleep or just ignoring him. He knew she could smell him outside her door, because he could smell her. He wondered if she was still sulking about Darian's dismissal from the night before. He would be, if it were him. He wanted her to understand a dismissal was something she would never get from him. He knocked harder and waited...no response.

“Elise, let me in,” he called. Nothing. “Elise, I'm coming in,” he said as he opened the door, saw her laying on the bed, not even pretending to be asleep. He sat on the edge of the satin and lace covered bed. He looked down at her. He brushed the brown curls from her beautiful aqua-green eyes. It was as he hoped and feared, she was thinking about the dismissal. Darian had hurt her feelings and for that, he wanted to kill him, even if he was already dead.

“Elise, please tell me you're not sitting in this room, sulking over him. Fuck him! Baby, I'm here for you, always, always.” He stroked her cheek softly with the back of his fingers. Her eyes settled on his but she didn't move. He fought the urge to grab her and shake her. He wanted to slap her face to bring her out of this stupor, even if it meant getting the shit beat out of him afterward. Elise was stronger than him physically, now he wanted her to be stronger than him in spirit. She was the Queen of the Pride, her crown was a heavy load to carry.