Fucked raw under his care

We’ve all got the power in our hands to kill, but most people are afraid to use it. The ones who aren’t afraid, control life itself -The Night Stalker.

__________

A soft rumble of thunder rolled through the night sky, followed by a humid, chilly gust of wind. Hopefully, I’d finish my business before the rain started. While werewolves didn’t get sick easily, I didn’t want to push my luck. Another breeze sent chills down my spine.

*I told you not to dress up for him,*  Balric said. His voice rolling through my mind like the thunder we’d just heard. He never could resist an “I told you so” even if he was wrong. Not that he’d ever admitted he was wrong of course. 

*A girl can never go wrong with fluffing a man’s ego,* I thought in reply.

The sound of a door caught our attention. The aging couple stepped out into the night from the bed-and-breakfast across the street. Mr. and Mrs. Claymont, the elderly couple who owned the powder blue victorian styled bed-and-breakfast, walked to a small rust-red truck sitting in the wide driveway. I watched as Mr. Claymont opened the door for his wife, saying something that made her laugh. A twinge of envy stabbed at me. None of that would ever be in the cards for me. Hell, at this rate I’d consider myself lucky if I reached my thirtieth birthday. Especially after tonight.

*It’s time,* Balric said and I shoved the thoughts of my life expectancy away.

Brushing my dark brown hair out of my face, I looked down the small rural road for any potential witnesses before crossing the street to the victorian B&B. *Let’s do this.*

*Be careful,* Balric warned me. His unease pressed heavily in my mind. This would be our first high ranking target and was going to catch a lot more attention than the others. It was a price I was willing to take. Philip Gregory was a piece of trash.

I knocked on the door and pulled my body in on itself, putting on the mask of the submissive werewolf. A moment later Philip opened the door. He was an older werewolf, a few years younger than my father. Yet, he leered at women, me included, like a teen in the throes of puberty. “Desiree?” He pronounced my name wrong - using the American pronunciation instead of the Spanish, where the accent fell on the first “e”.

“Um, hi, Sir, sorry to bother you…”

“No, not at all. Come inside, Sweetheart before you freeze.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied meekly. 

Philip moved to the side to let me in, but with only enough space that I would have to brush against him to get inside. Cabrón. The liaison sneezed as I passed and I had to hide a smile. Turning to face him, I saw his eyes were watering. He waved his hand, reeling back a step. “What are you wearing?”

With my lower lip between my teeth, I looked at him through my lashes. “You don’t like it, Sir?” I clasped my hands together in front of me, making sure he noticed my meager cleavage. It worked. The ass even licked his lips. Gross.

“Well no, it’s not that, Sweetheart. It’s just a little overpowering,” he said as he closed the door. Philip gave me an oily smile, obviously making the assumptions I wanted him to. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was figuring out the quickest way to get my skirt around my waist. “Let's find somewhere to sit, shall we?”

“Yes, Sir,” I told him with a hesitant, shy smile. I was rewarded with another of his oily smiles, this time it had a predatory edge to it. How many women had found themselves the victim to that predatory smile? All afraid to say something because he worked personally for the Praetor -the leader of all the werewolves in North America. I was going to enjoy this one.

As Philip and I reached a cozy room with obvious signs of being decorated by a woman in her golden years, he let his hand drop to brush against my ass. He sat on a loveseat and patted the cushion next to him. Forcing my body to stay relaxed and submissive, I sat, and immediately his hand landed on my thigh, just below the hem of my skirt. “Now tell me, what brought you here to see me tonight?”

“I made a breakthrough on the Betrayer,” I told him in a breathy tone.

“Good girl,” he said, patting my leg. “What did you learn?”

“I know who he is. I know who the Betrayer is.”

Philip’s hand slipped up my thigh and under my skirt with a look of shock. My hand flinched towards the blade hidden away in my wrist cuff. Now recovered, he leered at me as he said, “Very good girl. I promise to reward you well for this.” His hand slid higher up my leg. “So tell me what is he calling himself in this life?”

I bit my lip again, looking at him through my lashes. I leaned closer, letting my lips brush his ear. The arousal in his scent was palpable as he shuddered. “Desirée de Léon. Me. I am the Betrayer.” Before he could pull away from me, I slid the knife from my cuff and into his stomach. He sucked in a stuttering breath. I twisted the blade, his blood hot on my fingers. With another twist, I broke it off inside him. Philip’s breath came out in a slow pained wheeze. “Balric.” He glared at me with hate and anger. 

“That’s right, Sweetheart,” I told him, dropping my meek mask. I stood and blew him a kiss, with my bloody hand, enjoying the horrified look on his face. A soft growl rumbled from him and he tried to get up, but his face went pale with realization. “You bitch.”

The blade now inside his gut was made from moonstone. Moonstone absorbed the wolf spirit, leaching it from the werewolf, leaving its body an empty shell. With desperation, Philip clawed at his stomach, desperately trying to remove the blade. He’d be too late, though. “You bitch,” he said again, his voice a whisper. The light in his eyes flickered and dulled to nothing as he slumped against the loveseat. With a lift of my chin, I smiled. The rush of the kill was a unique kind of high.

“Bye, bye, Sweetheart,” I said with a wave and went into the bathroom to clean up. 

I left the bed-and-breakfast mostly as I left it and hurried down the street. It was three blocks to my house. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the Victorian bed-and-breakfast, but it served its purpose. Halfway, the rain started to fall and I ran the remaining distance to avoid getting soaked. I closed the front door and looked at my small, mostly bare living room. I had only the basics: tv, sofa, an end table, and coffee table. It was a testament to the years I expected to have left. In other words, personal touches seemed to be moot at this point.

In the laundry room, I stripped out of my clothes and started the washer before going into the spare bedroom. It was my base of operations. I walked over to the dry erase board on the left wall. With great pleasure, I crossed Philip’s name off the list. “Only two more, Bal. Only two more. Ian Renner and Caius.” Caius was elusive to locate. Up until now, I didn’t even have his human name. All I knew was that he was once an Alpha, but had gone off the radar soon after his brother’s miraculous recovery.

Three days later… 

Alpha Melissa paced the floor of her large living room. The impossibly high heels sending a clack, clack, clack echoing off the walls. “José, please tell me you’re not serious?” she asked my father. Despite being in her late fifties, she was still an exquisite woman. Auburn hair, styled with expensive products, and curves I could only have in my dreams. Worry now marred her perfect face. 

Dad shook his head. “With no disrespect, Alpha, what did you expect the Praetor to do?”

“Melissa, come,” Alpha Erik told his mate. She hesitated before sitting next to him on the arm of his wingback chair. He took her hand in his. “We have nothing to fear from Praetor Noah. We’re not harboring the Betrayer, and Desirée has been working non-stop to find him.”

Mimicking everyone’s grim expression I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor. 

“Praetor Noah feels it’s best to come here. The death of his liaison warrants no other response,” Dad explained.

“Actually,” I mumbled, holding up my hand.

“Yes, Desi?” Alpha Erik asked, a frown touching his grim expression.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for the Praetor to visit.”

“Why?” Alpha Melissa's voice, sharp and tight, cracked through the room like a whip.

Purposely hesitating, I glanced at them and then to the floor. “The Betrayer has killed four people in the last seven years. It’s making him bolder. Each kill has been higher in the pack hierarchy and now the Praetor’s liaison. I… I think this might be him trying to call the Praetor here.”

*Nicely done, nicely done,* Balric said.  

I couldn’t help preen a little. This was all playing out just as I planned it.

“He wouldn’t,” Alpha Melissa said, staring at me, her features pinched.

“He’s a crazed killer and might be delusional enough to believe he’s a match for the leader of all the Alphas in the country.”

Alpha Erik looked at Dad. “Did you inform Praetor Noah of Desi’s concerns?”

“I did, but the Praetor didn’t seem concerned. He’s only increasing the number of people he’s bringing with him.” 

Alpha Erik rubbed his face. “The Praetor does as he wishes. All right, José, make the necessary security arrangements. Melissa, let’s prepare for his arrival. Desi, ready your research. I want everything you discovered ready for Praetor Noah. Understood everyone?”

And there it is ladies and gentlemen - Goal and home team takes the win!

I dipped my head in submissive acquiescence while doing a victory waltz in my head and followed my parents outside. As soon as I stepped outside, my breath fogged, and I pulled my knit cap lower as we walked to the car. They insisted on driving me since I had neither car nor license, technically. 

With a loud sigh, Mom shook her head. “Let’s hope something good can come from this visit.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, situating myself in the back seat.

“It’d be nice if the Praetor did more of his own dirty work and leave you be. I don’t like you being involved in this mess. What if that monster came after you instead of Philip?”

“Dios Mío, Mamá. The Betrayer isn’t coming for me. I’m too weak and unimportant to warrant his attention,” I said, unamused.

“You have part of it right,” she said, surprising me. “You’re too weak.” Now that sounded more like her. “I’m sorry, Desirée, but you can’t deny you’re weaker than everyone. Without shifting, you never will be anything else. Praetor Noah needs someone else for this work.”

Dad narrowed his eyes when I flipped the back of her seat the bird. I offered him a sweet grin before slumping into the seat and preparing myself for another of Mom’s long-winded speeches about my disability.  

*Go easy on her. She’s your mother, and it’s her job to worry.*

*Et tu, Brutus?* I scowled, and his laughter vibrated through my brain.

“Oh, tonight your father is inviting the Enforcers over to dinner…” Mom said as we pulled into my driveway.

“Sounds great. Have fun with that.” I practically ran inside before she could try to push me into going. I swear if the Praetor or his people didn’t kill me, my mother and sister’s attempts at matchmaking would.

Once the door closed, I grinned. “It worked, Bal. Ian’s coming! He’s coming right to us.” I fist-pumped the air. No way would Praetor Noah come here without his hitman.

*Yes. Let’s make sure we’re ready to welcome them properly,* Balric replied, his excitement mixing with mine.