Mr. and Mrs. Monster (4 page)

Blood.

Dead flesh.

Rotting carcasses.

All the things a carcass-rendering plant should have, but the feel of the place was wrong. Was…

A sound distracted Damien from his cataloguing of the building’s interior. A scuff or a slap of feet on the concrete. Maybe he was about to catch a break. Crouching low, he ran for the cover of a stack of crates and peered in the direction of the noise. Where on earth was the guy? He could have sworn he’d heard him just a little way in front of him in the shadows.

An intense itching spread across the back of his neck. He swiveled his head around to both sides. Some sense of intuition had him clenching his gun in readiness, but he still couldn’t avoid the hand that swept down with murderous ease and connected solidly with his temple. Damien hazily focused on the misshapen figure before him. A nightmarish blend of blood and fur, patches missing and skin gouged almost to the bone. A wolf’s deformed muzzle jeered at him as he stiffened and fell back on to the concrete, everything around him growing dark with pain and seeping blood. Damn, his own Wolf was going to kill him for missing out on this. She would make him pay. Some days he’d swear she was a woman.

* * * *

The policeman fell to the ground, blood slipping from his hairline. He hoped he hadn’t killed the human, but you had to take chances if you wanted results. He didn’t want Kyla on a blood hunt just yet. Wolves were so uncontrollable when they let their emotions get the better of them. He just wanted to leave the little captain a taste of fear and blood. Something to know him by. What did humans call it?

His calling card—blood.

The part man, part wolf smiled down at his erstwhile tracker. He was glad they’d found him so quickly. That made them acceptable hunters for him to toy with. His work was almost finished and his revenge soon completed. His latest victim would be found by now. He wished he could be there to see Artemis’ face, but still, everything was going to plan. And he had his special coat now. Had his change back.

They would pay, all of them…

Chapter Four

White-hot needles of pain eased off their frantic stabbing at her brain as she loped toward Olympus. The red-brown stucco of the police station wasn’t far away from the casino if you took the back roads, and four legs were still quicker than two. Kyla checked around before ducking into the alley where one of the victims had been discovered. She changed and strode toward the door. Since the first murder, they’d placed coded locks on all exits for the staff. A mousy assistant of Artemis had followed everyone around, handing out the cards. Poor woman had to chase non-stop to track all the wolves down. Missy, her cousin Eric’s annoying fiancé, had been kidnapped from the storeroom in the kitchen, so tighter security was a must now.

Kyla swiped her card and stepped into choreographed chaos. Chefs, kitchen hands and serving staff swirled around each other in a classical ballet of movement. Noise ratcheted off the walls and pummeled her as she marched through, ignoring everyone. If you looked mad enough, no one bothered you.

“What took you so long? We need to get this mess out of our place.”

So much for her look-mad-don’t-talk-to-me approach. Her cousin, Hermes, barred her way with his hands on his hips, legs akimbo. He was hot, but way too high-maintenance for her. And they were cousins, not that it bothered some of their relatives. “I’m undercover. I came as quickly as I could. What the hell is going on? Artie nearly blinded me with her message. You’re lucky I haven’t started drooling.”

“And here I thought that was your normal look. You know…for a dog and all.”

The female voice grated down her spine. Great, here was the psychotic other half of her favorite cousin, Eric. Just what she needed. A rabid mortal, with not a single, useable brain cell. “It must be daycare day. Everyone looking after you, sweetpea? You need to hold my hand or something?”

Kyla opened her eyes wide and pursed her lips, trying to appear helpful. Missy pissed her off, but sometimes the sparring between them entertained her. Not today.

A short woman with oily blonde hair, timidly tapped Kyla on the shoulder. “Ah, excuse me? Captain? Your presence is required…”

“Shut up.” Both women yelled at the woman at the same time. She slunk off, hugging the wall.

“Damn it, Kyla. Now you’ve scared her.”

“
I
scared her? How about you with your human ways. Wallflower could have been terrified she’d pick up mortal cooties from you.”

“Geez. You call her wallflower? Way to be a bully.”

“First of all, I have no clue what her name is. All I know is that she’s a personal assistant to Artemis. Secondly, I don’t call it to her face. Thirdly, stay away from me.” Kyla hissed. Seriously, this human woman rubbed her fur the wrong way. Who was Missy to judge her? Besides, she really didn’t know the woman’s name just that she’d been working for Artie for a year or two. But no one ever noticed her. She really blended in. Shame she wasn’t a wolf. It would be a great camouflage trick.

“I’d love to stay away, but one of these days I’m marrying Eric and he wants you in the bridal party. So I get to choose what you wear. I hear
Gone with the Wind
bouffant pink is in. Want to go another round?”

“Anytime, two legs. As long as you’ve brought your coffin with you.” Kyla flashed fangs at her and would have moved her forcibly out of the way if Missy hadn’t stepped back. Bitching at Missy did make her feel better, but she had to get to Damien. He wouldn’t find anything, but you never knew with him. Damian thought he could handle the world and he was liable to go off without support. She needed to get back ASAP.

“About two legs, you’ve always had a chip on your shoulder and now I hear you’re playing cozies with one? You don’t seem too upset about it either. Is the Big Bad Wolf falling for one of us dirt-grubbing mortals? Say it ain’t so.” Missy smirked and gestured at Kyla, ceding to the other in their verbal field of warfare.

“It’s none of your fricking business, mortal.” Kyla stalked toward Missy and shoved her face closer to the mouthy woman. “If I was you, I’d stay out of business that’s beyond your capabilities. All right?”

“Now, tell me, Kyla. Why are you directing verbal jabs and physical intimidation at my soon-to-be wife when there’s a skinned body cooling out at the front of your compound?”

Eric’s melodic tones smoothed like molasses before the intent behind his words broke through to her. “Body? Skinned?”

Kyla waited for Hermes’ and Eric’s assent before swearing. “Shit, shit, shit. He knows us, knows what we are. Hell, I think he
is
one of us.”

Turning away from Missy, all confrontation and sensitive issues forgotten, she bolted for the compound and the dead body.

* * * *

This time blood had congealed at the bottom of the body, at the lowest point on the ground—his back. The victim faced Kyla, his eyes wide. Blank death stared out at Kyla as she crouched. Beaver had been with them for six months now. He’d almost been ready to go out with their boss on a hunt, but now he never would. She smiled as she remembered how eager he’d been when he’d first arrived. They’d nicknamed him Eager Beaver, which shortened to Beaver.

Red hair, unusual for a Lykos, flopped over his skinned face. Sinews and tendons stood out, sharply defined in the bright light. The killer had become arrogant. Overconfident, he’d stayed undetected for so long. But that would change, even if she had to work her and Damien to death. This fucker was dead.

“What do you think, Kyla?”

Eric stood next to her, staring at the body of her pack member. Kyla brushed off her pants. “I think you need to keep that almost-wife of yours away from me. And if she thinks she’s forcing a candy cane, puff-sleeved piece of crap dress on me, she has another thing coming—my fist. I’ll dress in whatever your groomsmen are wearing. You can call me your best woman.” She shot a sickly sweet smile at him. Her best friend getting married and to a mortal. Things were changing. Maybe for the better.

“Ha, Missy would love that. It would probably piss her side of the family off and gods know what our side will turn up in.” He waved his hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, have it your way. Suit it is.”

Kyla forced out a chuckle as she pushed herself to move away from Beaver. “Hey, you could rent—”

Without warning, slices of lightning cleaved through her skull. “Argh!” Slumping, she reached for Eric as he helped haul her upright.

“Gods, what’s wrong?”

She tried to frame a word, but her throat closed. She coughed through the pain and tried again. “Damien. Something’s wrong. He’s hurt. I have to go.” Ignoring her fear, she turned to her cousin. “Can you take care of Beaver? Make sure he’s okay?”

Eric nodded. “Of course I will. I’ll be here when you get back. You need anything, just call.”

She murmured her thanks and headed for the compound’s fastest car—her boss’s. Artemis had a taste for expensive and fast and she loved
James Bond
movies, so the sole choice was an Aston Martin. But Artie was all about the upgrade. She had an Aston Martin Vanquish. Zero to a hundred in ten seconds, easy to use under high speeds and cornered smoothly.

Kyla glanced around. No one was near the car, so it wouldn’t be hard to take. As long as she returned it without a scratch, Artie would be fine. A sudden movement had her freezing, but it was Artemis’ wallflower heading out the garage door. Kyla met her gaze for a moment, the connection so intense sparks almost radiated from her eyes. For once, the woman stood out. But with a blink, the connection snapped like it had never been there, and the woman blended back into wallflower and disappeared out a door.

Kyla bit her lip. For a moment, the woman’s blank blue eyes had filled with deep emotion.

“What the heck-a-doodle was that?” Kyla couldn’t tell whether the woman wanted her or hated her? She was much more comfortable with the hate thing, but what had the woman’s panties in a knot? “Come on. You have more important things to do.” Kyla focused on the car.

Artie never bothered to lock it and always forgot to take the keys out so it was an easy maneuver to back the baby out and head toward Damien. At least Artie had chosen a car built for tall people with plenty of legroom. Kyla just hated the fact her boss had a thing for white. White leather was everywhere, but the fast speed and powerful engine more than made up for that.

Kyla slipped into the driver’s seat then gunned the engine. She sped out of the compound. Focusing on the road and the pain in her head, she realized when she moved in a certain direction pain diminished, move away and it increased. The pain was leading to Damien. Kyla turned the car in the opposite direction and headed for a bank of rundown warehouses. The pain ebbed to a trickle.
Damien.

“You couldn’t have waited until I got there? No, you had to be the stupid hero.”

Kyla slowed her pace to a crawl. The distinctive noise of this engine might alert the killer, so she parked away from the buildings and headed in on foot. The pain had faded in the last few minutes so she knew she was close. His was a steady presence in her mind now. To hell with all the connotations of a link with her partner. She wasn’t ready to face that yet.

Not wanting to risk a change so close to the killer and alert him, Kyla stayed in human form while she prowled the building. Damien was there, but no one else yet. She grabbed the handle of the door and squeezed. Kyla popped the handle then reached inside and unlocked the bolt. Moving through the musty gloom, she searched for Damien.

Her sensitive hearing picked up a noise from the back of the building. A prone figure crumpled on the concrete floor shocked her into a run.
Damn it. I’ll kill you myself.
Kyla reached for a pulse and squealed like a girl when his heart vibrated under her hand.

“Okay, big boy. Where are you hurt?”

No open wounds, so it might be his head. She peered closer and spied a lump underneath his bangs. The night and dim interior of the building had masked the blood on the side of his face, but nothing hid the stench from her sharp sense of smell. He was lucky she had glow-in-the-dark eyes. The killer had knocked Damien out. That told her he didn’t want to eliminate Damien from the equation yet. He just wanted her attention.

“All righty, then. Time to get up, boy.” Thank gods she wasn’t human. Otherwise, he’d never move. It was time for him to cut down on those Krispy Kreme Donuts.

“Wha…? Where am I?”

Damien’s shaky voice had her peering into his face while she checked to see the extent of his concussion. The problem was she’d forgotten she was in human form not wolf, and Damien was familiar with her face.

“Shit, that hurts. Did you get the number of the truck that hit me?”

He groaned again and stared at Kyla. She held her breath and waited for the fallout.

“Dream girl? He must have hit my head hard but… Shit, you’re real, not just in my dreams, aren’t you?”

Kyla grimaced and kept tugging him upright.

Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of the kennel.

Chapter Five

He must have passed out again. Next thing he knew, he was on his bed with a very loud-snoring woman beside him.
What the hell?

Damien surged upright and growled as a throb of pain drummed through his head. His last vivid thought was the floor of the warehouse and his dream girl crouched over him. He had it bad if his dreams were coming to life.

He rubbed a hand across his naked chest.
Huh?
Someone had stripped him of his clothes before putting him to bed. Now all that remained on his body was a black pair of boxer shorts.

A soft sigh snagged his attention and he stared at his fantasy in flesh. Um, maybe it hadn’t been a dream. Here she was, snoring like a freight train in his bed. No doubt, she was the person who’d divested him of his clothing. Damn shame he hadn’t been conscious to enjoy it. A monumental shame, in fact.