TWELVE
Unfortunate enough to get chosen , Lenny’s haunting words ring in my ears almost as loud as the door chime when I leave Oddities and Curiosities.
After a compelling, and to be quite frank, fucking disturbing history lesson on how the werewolves came to be, I left the small, dilapidated store.
Of course, I bought a few things, if only to thank Lenny for his time.
Something tells me the shop won’t have the lights on much longer.
But I let the small plastic bag with the store name dangle off my wrist, housing a brand-new set of plastic vampire teeth and a manual on safeguarding your home from the paranormal in twelve easy steps.
Garlic? No.
Salt circles? No.
Fire? Well, that might work.
Sure, I don’t have a chimney but what kind of psychopath would willingly cross a line of fire to get to me? Fur burns and I’m willing to bet the wolf aiming to make me his dobycha isn’t fond of having his hair go up in flames.
He's following me.
Taunting me.
Showing me he knows my every move.
God, I wish I never went up to that loft.
But do I? Sure, I caught small glimpses of Nikolai Vostik the man, though I’m not sure if it was all some elaborate facade to lure me to my own death, or if any of it was actually real.
The shackled monster I found when I climbed up that staircase, absolutely real.
What about before? How when he kissed me, everything I had ever known melted away until it was just his lips on mine, our tongues meeting for the first time.
How my body reacted on impulse to his touch, the feel of his fingers warming my skin until the sensation became hot.
Burned, even.
The way he would bring his mouth to my ear and his breath would graze it every time he whispered something to me.
Okay, maybe I wish I never went up to that loft the second time.
The streets are more crowded than before, a casualty of the afternoon swell of shoppers filling both the roads and sidewalks to capacity.
I make my way up the block in careful strides, watching each corner for even the smallest hint of a man on a motorcycle or god forbid, the alluring scent of cedar, all the while, the sketched images from the mark of the beast play on repeat in my head, one horrible image above all others.
The werewolf sinking its teeth at the base of the woman’s neck.
The same spot Nik had kissed me so deliciously.
Now I wonder if the same thought had crossed his mind and he just didn’t have the full moon to do it.
Had Dimitri not saved me last night, there’s no telling what a fully transformed Nikolai would’ve done.
I want to be thankful, but at the same time, he knew.
There was no shock in the bouncer’s eyes.
No fear either.
All that tells me is Dimitri has seen it happen before.
I make it another block, dodging the elbow-to-elbow string of people traveling in both directions, using this school of fish as cover should he indeed find me again.
There has to be way too many scents to pick mine out, but then again, who knows just how keen his sense of smell is.
And what’s going to happen when I get back to my apartment and there’s more claw marks left there in my absence? I can’t afford a hotel, and the last thing I want to do is stay with Courtney only to have her front door scratched up next.
No, something tells me I will eventually have to face him.
Nikolai Vostik the predator.
And me? The dobycha . The prey.
“Do you have any spare change?”
a scruffy man asks, leaning against the store windows wearing clothes a size or two larger than his thin frame.
The scraggly blond hair hidden beneath a ball cap evenly matches his unkempt beard in dire need of a trim.
Dirt and sweat coat his sunken cheeks, and when I meet his gaze, his smile gives me unease.
I shake my head and continue forward. “No, sorry.”
He steps in front of me, and with the people passing on both sides, there’s no chance to move around him. I’m blocked in. “Well, you’re out here shopping with the rest of the sheep,” he says and points to the bag dangling off my wrist. “What’s in there?”
My face twists in disgust. “None of your business,” I say and try to move past him to no avail.
Anger takes over his underfed features. Without warning, he snatches me by the wrist, fingers digging into my skin. I look around, hoping someone will put a stop to this, but they don’t. None of them even glance in our direction.
“Get your hand off me!” I scream, earning looks from those passing who can’t be bothered to help. The man tightens his grip on my wrist, now pulling the bag, and me, toward him.
“You’re not going to treat me like gutter trash, you stupid …” His voice trails off. The rage in his eyes dims, and his already pale complexion somehow seems to lose a shade. He’s no longer glaring at me, but behind me.
Cedar.
No. No, no, no.
Fucking cedar swirls in the air. It’s unmistakable. As is the warmth radiating from behind me like I’m standing in front of a running car with the hood propped open. It’s him. It’s Nikolai.
Long, dark brown hair comes into view in my periphery as he leans forward, head craned above my left shoulder. Deep growls work their way up his throat until a sinister snarl leaves his partially open mouth. “I don’t like when people touch my things.” His voice is low but no less menacing.
Holy shit. This is bad. I knew already he was claiming me as his dobycha but hearing out loud how he said his things , gives the Russian word a whole new level of terrifying. Long brown hair skirts over my shoulder blade, gleaming in the afternoon sun. The wooded smell of him circles around me like buzzards ready for their next roadside kill. God. This man, this monster, wants to chew me up and spit out something unrecognizable, and here I am about to compliment his fucking conditioner and cologne? What in the hell is wrong with me?
“You have three seconds to let go,” Nik says, leaving no hint in his tone for anything but compliance. “Three … Two …”
The man rips his hand back. Immediate relief sets in but I can still make out each of his fingers on my reddened skin.
“Look, I don’t want no trouble. We were just talking.”
Nikolai chuckles and the sound is enough to send ice through my veins. There’s no hint of amusement but a delighted savagery in it. A large, tattooed arm reaches over my shoulder, the tendons of his forearm flexing in small, braided cords.
Fear tramples the man’s face. “Please! I’m sorry!”
I, however, say nothing. I know what is about to happen. I’ve seen it before. Witnessed the viciousness Nikolai Vostik keeps under a calm and collected demeanor. He wraps his hand around the man’s throat before he can tuck tail and run and raises him off the ground with ease. He claws at Nikolai’s tightening fingers and wrists, leaving thick scratch marks as red as his pinched face. Strained chokes and gurgles escape him, and when I turn to peer up at the owner of Club V?lk, the familiar onyx black has taken over each eye.
Running is unwise , the book in Lenny’s store had said. A wolf longs for the chase. Okay, so what the hell do I do? Stand here and watch him murder this asshole and then me for a two for one special? Not a fucking chance.
I run.
I run away as fast as I can, pushing aside anyone stupid enough to get in my way. The bag slaps at my thighs but I pay it no mind. Wind whips my hair away from my face, and among the shouts of the people I shove from my path, the distinct thud of a body meeting concrete echoes in my ears.
I don’t stop. No, I only push myself to pick up the pace. To put as much distance as I can between us. He’d have a difficult time finding me on such a crowded street if he were human, but unfortunately for me, this man isn’t. He is following me around the city with his fucking nose like a goddamn basset hound. Maybe this is why the book was so threatening. It warned not to try and run because a wolf will always find you. And so far, Nikolai has yet to disappoint.
There’s a small alleyway on my right, and despite the urge to keep straight until I can get back to my apartment, dead bolt the door, and push every piece of furniture I have against it, something tells me he’d have a harder time finding me in the maze of LA rather than giving him a neat line to follow. Twenty feet. I need to make a decision. Fifteen. There’s enough people to block him from seeing me take a quick turn, and I can always double back once I’m a few blocks farther. Ten feet. Shit. Time to make a decision Natalie.
Five.
Now or never.
I slip into the alley with a small pivot and continue my large stride. It’s darker than the rest of the street, the outlines of partially open dumpsters coming into view. Then, I stop dead in my tracks.
No.
This can’t be fucking happening.
The back of a building closes off the alleyway, staring down as if mocking me.
I’m blocked in.
It’s a dead end.
Heavy, erratic heartbeats pound at my chest like a comically sized mallet.
Sweat trickles down both my forehead and cheeks, building at the cotton neckline of my T-shirt.
The dampened street noise picks up a notch as I take one slow step backward.
Then another step.
The sensation of a thousand ants scurries in the pads of my feet.
And when I take the third step, ready to turn on my heel and make a run for it, I knock into something hard enough to sting my sore shoulders.
It’s not a wall.
No, walls don’t radiate heat and they sure as hell don’t have the sweet wooden aroma capable of sending shivers down each notch in my spine in a horrible sequence. The game of cat and mouse has finally come to an end. He’s found me, and I know no amount of screaming will stop what happens next in this dark alley hidden away from street view.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Natalia,” Nikolai says, his voice thick and playful.
Whoever is unfortunate enough to get chosen … they better get acquainted with the idea of a very painful death. Jesus fucking Christ, why did I think leaving my apartment in daylight would keep me safe from him?
“Nik—Nikolai,” I stutter, far too terrified to turn around and watch those golden eyes give way to the blackness hiding there. But then the book image slams itself to the forefront. It’s almost as if it was a premonition. A detailed drawing of how I would meet my end at the hands of the monster quite literally breathing down my neck.
Nikolai glides his fingers over my forearm, warming the skin all the way down until he stops at the bag on my wrist from Oddities and Curiosities. He gently removes it, and the plastic crinkles as he inspects what’s inside. “ Protect Yourself From The Supernatural in Twelve Easy Steps ,” he says and gives a small laugh. “I take it you haven’t had the chance to skim through it.”
“Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth, dread draining the blood from my face.
“Shame.” His breath kisses my ears and the parts of my neck left uncovered by my tousled brown hair.
He isn’t attacking me. Gorging on my throat. He’s fucking toying with me. Playing with his food, as cliché as it sounds in my head. I can’t outrun him. I can’t fight him off. But I’m sure as shit not going to sit here and be mocked before I die.
“Just get it over with, Nikolai,” I huff out, clenching my eyes shut as unexpected tears make their escape.
Another laugh, and it boils the helplessness in my stomach to pure rage. He drops the bag and the book slaps against the cement. “Get what over with, Natalia?”
“Whatever it is you fucking followed me here to do,” I demand flatly.
Nikolai pulls back the hair covering my neck, and I suck in a sharp breath.
Fuck.
Is it going to hurt? Will it be the same way shark survivors say they couldn’t feel the teeth but the pressure? I don’t want to die, but it appears that choice is being made for me.
I squeeze my eyes tighter, not wanting to see anything besides the small sporadic dots exploding in my vision.
My body stills, and I ready myself for the inevitable.
His mouth touches the base of my neck first, heating both my throat and eventually my cheeks.
I wait for the teeth to slice through my skin, praying to whatever god will hear me.
And just when I think a sharpened row of daggers will dig in next, his wet tongue swirls around my skin.
A soft moan escapes me, not out of pain, not out of fear, but … unexpected pleasure.
My nipples harden to firm peaks, and he sucks the skin where my neck meets my shoulder and nibbles tenderly.
Another moan breaks free from me, echoing into the silence of the alley.
He isn’t sinking his teeth in.
No. Nikolai Vostik, the man that has stalked me all afternoon, left claw marks on my door, turned into a goddamn monster last night, is kissing my throat. And while I’m still too frightened to move, I am fucking relishing in it.
He removes his mouth from my neck and brings his parted lips to my ear. “You still want me to do what I came here to do ?”
Oh, god. At least if I die now it will be with a pit in my stomach and an undeniable wetness building at my center. His hair, combed back and brushing my collarbone sways as he awaits my answer. I don’t know if I can answer. I can’t manage a thing besides somehow miraculously staying upright.
“I can’t hear you, Natalia,” he whispers this time, and every part of me shivers at the sound.
Goose bumps work up my arms. Desire overwhelms the outright panic. Yes, I want him to keep going. Yes, I want his lips back on my neck. Yes … I will combust into a million pieces if he stops right now. Yes flashes in my head rapidly until it is the only word I can possibly think. The only word I can comprehend. The only thing I can say.
“Yes.”
Although I can’t see his mouth, I can almost imagine the grin stretching his cheeks.
Then, he clasps his lips back on my neck, sucking, nibbling, devouring me in the most satisfying way imaginable.
He reaches his hand up from behind me, cupping my breast while he continues to work on my neck.
His large palm fits it perfectly, and when I arch my back in sheer pleasure, he squeezes.
Stars burst in the back of my clenched eyes, and the pulsing at my core reaches a new, tantalizing rhythm.
Nikolai slides his hand over my stomach, eventually finding the waist of my jeans.
He runs his finger along the edge, touching both the denim and the soft skin of my hips.
I tilt my head back and give him a better angle, hoping he might even give my collarbone the attention I’m desperate for.
And as if he can read my fucking mind, he does just that.
Swirling his tongue over it before planting his lips and kissing.
Another moan, this time from us both, his hot breath traveling down the curve of my breasts.
I fight the urge to grab his hand and shove it to the spot begging for him.
I’m not sure how much more I can take before he actually does kill me with this insatiable craving to have his touch.
To feel his fingers warm a trail from my navel downward.
No, Nikolai continues to drag his finger back and forth along my stomach and jeans like a metronome, bringing an insurmountable longing I’ve never felt.
My pussy aches for him.
Pleads for this man. It’s undeniable the more wet my center becomes.
“I’m not here to kill you, Natalia,” he says matter-of-factly. Nikolai inches his fingers inside my pants and underwear, stopping at my throbbing clit. “This is what I came here for.”
An exasperated whimper flees my mouth before I can stop it and echoes into the vacant alleyway. I lean back into him fully, my head resting against his broad chest. He massages the sensitive area, only to venture lower and tease my opening further. My pussy contracts around the tip of his index finger. Tightening. Squeezing it into submission. But he doesn’t relent. No, he simply aligns two fingers together and brings them home.
I scream out in pleasure, unbothered by who might hear or be watching from the sidewalk not even fifteen feet away. I can’t help myself anymore. Bliss threatens to send me over the edge as he pushes them inside me. In. Out. In, curling each finger to rub along my upper walls. Fuck. Out again. His fingers are slick with my arousal, making each delicious movement faster and far more satisfying. Another thrust inside me, and his wrist grazes my swelling clit.
He's not going to kill me.
He is killing me.
I cry out, my mouth gaping as I swallow down as much air as I can. It’s building. This tremendous sensation starting at my core and railroading throughout every nerve, every limb. And before I know it, I’m rocking up and down on his fingers, my heart rate skyrocketing.
He spreads me open trailing his fingers upward, bringing them together again at my aching clit. Then, he circles them. Faster and faster in clockwise motion, adding more pressure each time he passes twelve. Another bite at the base of my neck, this time hard but not enough to break the skin. Part of me, the Natalie on the verge of coming and unconcerned with the effects of such a bite, wishes he would. Tear into my throat until blood trickles over my hardened nipples and down my hips. I’ll be his fucking prey if this is how he hunts.
With his other hand, he palms my breast, squeezing it while his fingers work double time.
Another wave of ecstasy pulses through me.
My limbs stiffen.
My body convulses.
I’m there, and judging by the palette of colors swirling in my closed eyes, this man is flooring our runaway vehicle right over a cliffside.
I unravel one thread at a time. Nik my undoing. I’m going to come. I’m going to fucking—
The air drains from my lungs as I scream out in pure, unadulterated frenzy, my body spasming against him.
His movements slow, as does my heartbeat, and I draw in breath after ragged breath.
My pussy is absolutely dripping, and some of my climax even travels down my thighs when he removes his fingers from my jeans.
Bringing his hand up to his chin still nestled on my shoulder, Nikolai opens his mouth and sucks off what’s left of me.
His lips make a loud pop , and he places both palms on my hips, holding me upright in case I fall over.
Who knows, I just might.
My knees continue to buckle, but I do my best to stand fully.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asks, his voice a low gravel.
“No,” I murmur between breaths.
“Next time,” he says and pauses to give my neck one final kiss. “Don’t run.”
Nikolai releases me, and when I turn around to face him, my eyes widen in disbelief.
He’s gone.
And here I stand, alone in the darkness of the alley, only the faintest hint of cedar and the spot burning where he kissed me remaining.
I watch the sidewalk traffic in silence, wondering if any of the dozens of people passing have even the slightest idea there’s a werewolf walking among them.