The Wolven (7 page)

Danyon quickly stripped off the latex gloves, tossed them to the ground, then grabbed Andy by the forearms, forcing him to look into his eyes. Andy growled and snapped at him, incisors already twice the length of a human’s.

Squeezing hard, Danyon dug his fingers into Andy’s arms. “I—need—you—to—focus,” he enunciated, his own voice low and hard. “Hold it together. I
command
it! Do you understand?”

Andy snarled, snapping at him again.

Pressing his fingers deeper into Andy’s arms, Danyon let out a deep guttural growl. A warning that
his own transformation was imminent. “Do you
understand
me?”

Evidently recognizing the voice of his alpha, Andy’s eyes suddenly cleared, and his incisors withdrew. He immediately lowered his head.

“I want you to go and sit in the SUV,” Danyon commanded. “Wait for me there. When I’m finished looking over the body, I’ll wrap it in the tarp, then you’ll help me load it into the SUV. Until then, you’re to stay in the driver’s seat until I call for you. Is that clear?”

Andy gave one quick nod, then quietly hurried away as ordered.

Danyon breathed a silent sigh of relief. He hadn’t feared Andy’s transformation for himself. He’d feared it for Shauna. As angry as Andy had become, there might have been no controlling who or what he attacked. Chances were good that he would have taken on the feral madness of a vengeful wolven, its mind lost to understanding anything but destruction.

Danyon turned to Shauna, saw an expression on her face he couldn’t quite define.

Fear? Awe? Possibly both.

“That’s just another reason why you should have stayed away,” he said. “You’re lucky. No telling what might have happened if I hadn’t stopped his transformation.”

She looked at him steadily. “I’m his Keeper,” she said calmly. “He wouldn’t have harmed me.”

He looked at her standing there—tall, slender, delicate wrists and arms, long, beautiful neck—and knew Andy would have snapped her like a twig. Danyon might have
laughed at the absurdity of her statement had it not been for the way she said it. Not haughty, like someone acting too big for her britches. It sounded confident, like the voice of experience. That puzzled him. When had she ever been up against a raging were? He shook off the question. Now wasn’t the time to contemplate the matter. He had more serious issues to contend with.

He headed back to Simon’s body. “I’ll need more light over here.”

Shauna hurried over, directed the flashlights as he indicated. As light flooded over Simon’s body, she let out another, smaller gasp.

Danyon chose to ignore it. No time for emotional females. It was already late, and they still had Nicole to see to. He scrounged through the duffle bag again, and grabbed wire cutters and a pair of pliers. He snipped the silver wire wrapped around Simon’s ankles with the cutters, then, using the pliers, he carefully wiggled the wire free from the trench it had formed in the bone.

With that task complete, Danyon reached for the hacksaw and went to work on the remaining cables, the ones wrapped around Simon’s neck and chest.

It was a long and tedious process, sawing at awkward angles, blade slipping again and again until he managed to cut a thin rut in the cable. Sweat ran into his eyes, soaked the back of his shirt.

By the time Danyon had removed the cables and the additional silver wire he’d found beneath them, two hours had vanished. It dawned on him, too, that throughout that entire time, Shauna had not said one word.

He looked up to check on her and was surprised to find her sitting back on her haunches beside him.

She handed him a pair of latex gloves. “Thought you might be ready for these.”

He studied her face, saw no trace of fear. Only profound sadness.

“Thanks,” he said, and took the gloves from her. After slipping them on, he sank his fingers into the fur on Simon’s right leg, then worked them slowly upward, feeling for wounds.

“I don’t think this was done by a human,” Shauna said.

“I agree.” He kept his fingers moving. “The minute that silver touched him, he would’ve mutated instantly from the pain, then slaughtered anyone in sight. And if by chance he was in were-state
before
they used the silver…they never would have gotten close enough to wrap it around any part of his body.”

“What about a group of humans?”

Danyon shook his head. “Not even an army of three-hundred-pound men. Once a wolven is at full power, even a young one like Simon, all they have to do is backhand a man, and the strength of that blow would crush his face. One swipe from his claws, and the man’s chest is ripped open, his heart pierced. And even if it had been a hundred men, all attacking at the same time, Simon wasn’t stupid. At the first hint he was being overpowered, he would have fled, and a wolven’s too fast and agile for any human to catch him.”

“What about shifters, then?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But if shifters mentally paired with a wolven, then became wolven themselves, couldn’t they have overpowered Simon? Or—”

“Not the shifters from here. They can transform into any being through molecular mapping, but only in appearance. They wouldn’t possess the full power of a wolven. Maybe three quarters at best.”

“What if they morphed into something bigger than a wolven? Wouldn’t size alone give them power?”

“Maybe, but in order for them to transform into anything, they have to see it, mentally map it.” Danyon arched a brow. “Have you ever seen anything in New Orleans—hell, in the entire state of Louisiana, that was bigger than a full grown wolven?”

Shauna pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Me either. That’s why I think the scenerio’s doubtful.”

“Okay…vampires? I don’t think one could’ve done it alone. But two or three might have, if they glamoured Simon before he turned were, then restrained him with silver and cable and lifted the glamour. You said Simon would have morphed from the pain caused by the silver, right? Well, once he turned were, all they had to do was…what was done to him.”

Through with the examination, Danyon stripped off the gloves and tossed them onto the tarp. He’d found no other wounds that might have caused Simon’s death. He
could only assume it was as August had said—Simon’s heart had burst. Unfortunately, an autopsy couldn’t be performed to confirm it. Not with Simon still in were-state.

“What do you think?” Shauna asked.

Danyon got to his feet and began gathering tools. “It’s possible, but I don’t think it’s probable. Nicole and Simon were found during the day and judging by the condition of their bodies, they’d probably only been dead about four or five hours. That means the murders took place during the day, as well. The local vampires can move about in daylight, but they’re considerably weaker than they are at night.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what the answer is, Shauna. I just don’t know.”

“Well, if it wasn’t humans, shape-shifters or vampires, that leaves us with…other weres. Other wolven.”

He looked away.

“Is that possible?” she pressed.

Danyon glanced over at Simon’s body. He didn’t want to entertain the idea that the murderer was a wolven. Of course wolven fought, sometimes to the death, but they didn’t purposely torture their own.

“Danyon, I think we need to get the leaders from the other races involved in this—”

“No.”

Shauna got to her feet. “Isn’t it better to swallow a little pride than lose more weres?”

“It’s not about pride,” he said angrily. “We can’t afford to have the three biggest subcultures in New Orleans
pointing fingers at one another again. It’s like you said earlier about the cemetery murders and the walk-ins. You were right. Every group blamed every other group. Even though both cases have been solved, that wire between all three groups is still taut. Getting the other leaders involved would mean their people would find out, and you know it. Fingers would start pointing again, only this time, that wire might very well snap.”

“I don’t think—”

Danyon held up a hand. “Look, I know two heads are better than one, three better than two, yada, yada, yada.

But Simon and Nicole were my responsibility. They died on my watch. I
have
to find their murderer.”

“And
all
the weres—including the wolven—are my responsibility. We have to do what’s right for the entire community.”

Danyon knew she was right, but there was something in him that simply refused to admit it at that moment. Call it pride, determination, the word didn’t matter. Nicole and Simon shouldn’t have died. He should have been there to protect them. He
needed
to find who—or what—had murdered them.

“Twelve hours,” he said. “At least give me that. If I don’t come up with something by then, we’ll call in the others, okay?”

Shauna studied him for a long while, then said, “All right. Twelve hours.” With that, she turned and headed toward the SUV.

Danyon watched her walk away, suspecting she feared
she’d made a mistake in allowing him the time he’d asked for.

He understood.

Because in that moment, he feared the exact same thing.

L
ightning ripped a jagged tear through the night sky, and the thunderclap that followed shook the ground beneath Shauna’s feet. She felt the first few spatters of rain on her head, her shoulders. Fat, wet drops that promised many more.

Shauna glanced up at the sky, wishing for it to burst open and wash her, bath her in luxurious warmth and take away the spatters of blood on her clothes, the dirt on her hands, the emotional weight on her heart.

She’d never felt more exhausted in her life. It wasn’t that she’d tackled anything physically laborious, but being so close to Simon and Nicole while Danyon examined them, watching as his fingers worked through bloody fur, had taken a greater toll on her than she’d thought.

The entire time she’d held the flashlight, Shauna wondered why both weres had to suffer such horrible deaths. She thought of their families and the pain and sorrow awaiting them. So many whys, too many questions. Who was she supposed to go to for answers? How could anyone explain the unfairness of the universe when it presented life this way?

Some questions in life simply had no answers; that much Shauna knew. But to her, not having answers to such grievous questions was almost as unbearable as the situation that prompted them in the first place.

Once Simon had been loaded into the SUV, she’d helped Danyon clear the area of bloody clothes, anything that might cause a passerby to take notice and call the police. Shauna had thought that after helping with Simon, she’d built up enough emotional stamina to handle Nicole.

She’d been wrong.

Although Nicole had died in the same manner as Simon and had also remained in were-state, there was something in her eyes that looked all too human. Shock—terror—innocence lost forever. That look had literally dropped Shauna to her knees. She’d openly wept while Danyon examined the young were. It was incomprehensible how anyone could kill something so fragile. To make matters worse, Nicole’s body had been hidden away in an alley behind wooden crates, since there was no brush anywhere near the pilings. Seeing her slumped in a heap in that alley, like so much garbage, made the emotional stress ten times worse.

The only thing that had comforted Shauna that night was seeing how gently and respectfully Danyon had cared for both weres. His large, powerful hands had moved so gently over their bodies. Nicole had been small enough for him to lift on his own, so Danyon had carried her to the back of the SUV, cradling her in his arms like a child.

Danyon had Andy remain in the truck while they’d tended to Nicole, refusing to let Andy even see her. That had been a wise decision. As angry as Andy had gotten when he saw Simon, had he seen Nicole, Shauna feared he would have been beyond even Danyon’s control. She was confident that August would know how to handle Andy once he arrived at the lake house and had to unload the bodies.

Now, the only evidence that remained to prove Nicole had even been in the alley or between the pilings were bloodstains. If the rain didn’t wash them away, time would.

Another zipper of lightning raced across the sky.

“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Danyon said. “We should go before the storm really lets loose.”

Shauna hadn’t thought about how she’d get home once this was over. A cab made the most sense, but they were scarce in this area, even at midday, and non-existent in the wee hours of morning, which it now was. Barataria was a good distance from the Quarter, but walking there was not an option. Just the thought of trudging across a street right now made Shauna want to collapse. She could barely put one foot in front of the other as it was.

“My place isn’t that far from here,” Danyon said. “Much closer than yours. You’re welcome to hang out there until the storm passes. Maybe grab a shower, have something to eat while you wait.”

Although she’d give anything for a hot shower and a cheeseburger right now, Shauna didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to go to Danyon’s. Being alone with him sounded too tempting. She wanted to say no. The rain, her exhaustion, the distance between here and her home, the convenient closeness of his place—all of it felt like one big cliché. Like the guy whose car just happens to run out of gas on a deserted road on the first date.

Still, when he’d invited her, she’d felt something tug at her core, urging her to go. She
needed
to say no, had to resist—wanted to maintain control—but found herself nodding yes, instead. Albeit reluctantly.

Food and a shower, nothing wrong with that, right? She could do both, then head home as soon as the storm let up. Easy-peasy, chillin’ cheesy.

Shauna repeated the name of those two food groups as she followed him home.

They walked for what felt like hours. Long enough for her mind to go numb and her body even more numb. Every once in a while, as they walked, Shauna found herself leaning against Danyon without meaning to. The moment their bodies touched, however, she’d quickly straighten, determined to keep a respectable distance between them.

It didn’t take long for the sky to release its payload, drenching them in wet, warm sheets. Still, they walked,
casually, purposely taking their time, as though the night were dry and cool.

Before Shauna knew it, they were at the corner of Burgundy and Ursulines and standing under an awning at the back entrance to La Maison Pierre. She was familiar with the old, five-storey hotel, having gone past it a few times on her morning runs.

Danyon tapped a code into the lock-pad near the door.

“You live in this hotel?” she asked.

“I own it.” He pushed the door open.

Shauna arched a brow.
La Maison Pierre—The Stone House. Interesting…

They took a private elevator up to the fifth floor. There, Danyon led her down a short hallway to a massive, ornate wooden door, where he tapped yet another code into another lock-pad.

He opened the door and motioned Shauna inside. “Make yourself at home.”

Everything about the spacious, multi-room penthouse spoke of luxury. Twelve-foot ceilings with double crown molding, plush designer rugs over wide-planked wood floors, antiques from the Louis XIV era, a huge fireplace with a fluted mantel, and paintings that looked like works by Rembrandt and Van Gogh.

“You live here alone?” Shauna asked.

“Yes. Well, unless you count Raul. He checks in a few times a day to make sure I haven’t turned the place into a total pigsty.”

“Raul?”

“He’s head of housekeeping here at the hotel.”

Danyon led her down another hallway to a large bathroom with gray and white marble floors. It had a granite double-sink vanity and shower stall, and a whirlpool tub that was big enough for six. Plush, white towels hung from a wide, wooden towel rack.

“Feel free to freshen up, shower, whatever you need. There are a couple of clean bathrobes in the linen closet behind the door.”

“Bathrobes, huh? You must do quite a bit of entertaining.”

“You’d be surprised how little.” He smiled. “If you decide to shower, you can toss your clothes out in the hall, and I’ll make sure they’re cleaned before you leave. When you’re done, just head back the way we came, only turn right at the archway instead of left. That’ll lead you to the kitchen. I’ll whip up something for us to eat after I grab a quick shower.”

At the mention of food, Shauna’s stomach grumbled to life. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. “Sounds good,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She must have looked like a troll.

With a smile and a nod, Danyon backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Shauna locked the door, then leaned against it for a few seconds and closed her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Despite the deluge they had walked through moments ago, it sounded like the storm was only getting started.

Gathering up what little energy she had, Shauna
opened her eyes, pushed away from the door and went to the vanity. She gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She was beyond filthy. Her T-shirt, once blue, now looked like a bad Pollock imitation—wet, dirt smudged, and dotted with blood spatter. Her jeans were worse than her shirt. Her face, neck and arms were dirt and mud-smeared, and it looked like she’d been digging ditches with her fingernails. Seeing the filth made Nicole and Simon’s faces zoom up close in her mind’s eye.

She couldn’t get into the shower fast enough.

Once under the hot spray, Shauna tried not to think of anything, just feel the warmth of the water flowing over her, listen to the hiss of the spray. She had no idea how long she stayed in the shower, but by the time she got out, her fingers and toes were pruned.

After drying off and combing her hair out with her fingers, she wrapped herself in one of the thick, terry cloth robes she found in the linen closet, then headed out of the bathroom in search of the kitchen.

Shauna felt a little weird trekking around Danyon’s penthouse barefoot and naked beneath the robe. But better that, she figured, than stinking up the place with the dirt and grime that had covered her earlier.

She found the kitchen a few minutes later and saw Danyon standing over a stainless steel stove, stirring a pot of marinara sauce. He wore jeans, a white unbuttoned button-down and was barefoot, as well.

“Pasta and sauce okay?” he asked. When he turned toward her, his smile faltered. His eyes traveled quickly over her body, settled on her face—consumed her soul.

With her heart thundering in her chest, Shauna cleared her throat. “Uh, sounds good. Anything I can do to help?”

“You can grab a couple of plates for us if you don’t mind.” He aimed his chin at an upper cabinet to his left. “They’re up there.”

Shauna went over to the cabinet, opened it, and saw that the plates were on the uppermost shelf. She reached up and found herself inches short of the goal, which made her laugh. At five foot eight, people usually asked
her
to retrieve things from high shelves.

“Ah, sorry. I keep forgetting that the rest of the population isn’t six-five.” Grinning, Danyon turned the burners off on the stove and walked over to her. “Let me help you with that.”

Standing behind her now, Danyon reached up and over her head and plucked two plates off the shelf. Then he froze, plates still in midair.

Shauna felt like those plates, locked and hovering in space. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. Although Danyon hadn’t pressed against her, hadn’t even touched her, she still felt heat from his body radiating through the bathrobe and onto her back. It soaked into her skin, vibrated, stole her breath. Whatever resonated between them was so strong, it blocked off the rest of the world. Shauna heard nothing but his breathing. She saw nothing—felt everything. Her body suddenly ached with a need that transcended the physical, a need that encompassed her entire being. She feared even twitching lest he misread it and back away.

Danyon slowly lowered the plates and placed them on the counter just below the cabinet. As he did, Shauna felt his breath on her right cheek, and her body reacted immediately, nipples hardening, arms trembling.

“Shauna…” His voice was huskier now, deeper.

She heard him, but more than his voice. All of him seemed to call to her—and it felt primal.

Shauna turned to face him, and in less than a second, her lips were pressed against his.

Danyon wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in close. Their kisses grew ravenous immediately, tongues probing, deeper, deeper, both craving more. His fingers traveled lightly along the nape of her neck, and Shauna moaned.

In response, Danyon’s hand moved slowly down to her shoulder, his thumb latching on to the edge of the bathrobe near her collarbone and lowering it. Then his fingers trailed lower—lower still. By the time his fingertips reached the swell of her breast, the world had become a swirling kaleidoscope, and he was its fulcrum. He brushed the top of her left breast, then, keeping his touch feather-light, he moved toward her nipple. Stopping just short of the hardened nub, he circled it slowly with a finger, again and again, each time his fingers moving ever closer to her nipple, yet not…quite…touching it.

Shauna gasped with desire, wanting to scream,
Now! Now!
And just when the ache in her body became so excruciating she thought she could bear no more, Danyon suddenly lifted her up and sat her gently on the counter.

He looked into her eyes, looked into
her
—and she was lost.

Neither said a word.

None were needed.

Nothing spoke louder than this.

Danyon kissed her long and deep, then lowered his mouth to her breast. Shauna cried out, dug her fingers into his shoulders and pulled him closer. She felt frantic, alive, the need inside her mounting to the point of desperation. His hands moved deftly, slipping the bathrobe off her shoulders, then cupping both her breasts. Her nipples strained against his palms, and he moaned, lifted his head, kissed her lips, her neck.

Shauna gasped, wrapped her hands behind his head, tangled her fingers in his hair. Part of her wanted to push away, to stay in control. But the other part of her, the one wrapped in his arms and melting under his touch, refused to listen.

He stepped into her, parting her legs with his body. She opened her mouth to protest, to moan, and his tongue was inside her mouth, teasing, plunging. His hands slipped between her legs, and his thumb began to stroke her, circling the small mound that turned her body into liquid fire. She arched her back, and he groaned, breathed her name, then his fingers pressed into her hot wetness. Her breath came short and fast. She moved in rhythm with his fingers.

The heat she’d felt emanating from him only moments ago, now felt like a furnace at full power. Combined
with the heat from her own desire, she felt as if she were burning from the inside out.

Then with one sure thrust of his fingers and swirl of his thumb, the orgasm that had been coiling inside her, taut, tight, like an over-wound spring, suddenly let go, and Shauna cried out from the force of it. She felt herself contract around his fingers, her wetness drenching them. He groaned her name, and she let out a guttural moan, sounds she’d never heard herself make before. Danyon growled with desire, and before Shauna knew it, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.