He smiled and the expression sent me scrabbling backward. I wasn’t a wolf, I only pretended to be one, and whatever this creature turned out to be, he was much, much worse.
“No,” I gasped out.
“Oh, too late.” Laughter drowned out my thoughts as my jaw was forced painfully wide open by something I couldn’t see. Pure agony ripped through my head like it was splitting in two.
“You’re a fool, Abraham Walker,” the voice in my mind echoed. “A damned fool. At least get a name before you offer to let yourself be fucked.”
Tyler
October 13th
My feet ateup the pavement as I stretched my legs and raced, with my black leather coat weighing me down. The engine of my Chrysler 300 purred behind me where I’d parked it haphazardly in the busy city traffic. All my focus was on reaching a perp and a man being choked out on the ground.
I didn’t havetimefor this shit, but criminals didn’t care about my schedule.
High-rise buildings reached for the sky on either side of me, echoing back the noise of shouts and fighting. The streetlights cast strange shadows on the men as they grappled with each other, and the silver awning above the glass front door of the Quicksilver Coffeehouse made a shadowy alcove beside them. I was thankful the big man hadn’t thought to drag the smaller one into the darkness, or I might not have noticed him as I was rounding the corner in my car while fighting the busy Friday night congestion. The restaurants lining the block all had customers streaming in and out. It was weird that the lights weren’t on at Quicksilver; the large windows that faced the street were gleaming black mirrors. I’d been here before, and it was usually jam-packed at this time.
Cold air stung my lungs as I dragged it in and my pulse thudded in the back of my throat. I pumped my arms hard and hopped the curb to hit the sidewalk. Horns honked behind me. Sweat ran into my eyes and I blinked away the sting. The vic, a man who looked positively tiny below the assailant looming over him, kicked his legs, so he’d live… probably. I put on as much speed as I could. The perp had his lips set in a snarl that flashed his teeth. He moved forward and the bald spot on the back of his head glinted like an eye from between the longer dark hair surrounding it.
“How are you so fast?” my partner, Nilsson, called from far behind me, but I ignored him. Demon-inhabited bodies were stronger and faster than the standard human model, but he could never knowthatparticular tidbit.
“Take your slow ass to the gym!” I shot back over my shoulder. The vic’s legs—formfitting jeans, I noted, in case this became a situation where a corpse needed to be identified—were beginning to beat off the dirty sidewalk a little slower, but I was almost to him. My badge bounced on the chain I’d worn it on today while doing interviews, smacking my chest in rhythm to my footsteps.
An eerie excitement that wasn’t mine haunted me, and I tried to shove down the distraction. My host—the man who’d originally owned and controlled this body—thrived on violence and gore. It was his bread and butter. I shook my head to clear it, but he was close to the surface right now.
My shoulder ached dully as I slammed into the big man who’d apparently decided to go all Boston Strangler, but he didn’t let go of the vic, so we all jolted. It took me punching the perp on the side of the head to get him to release his grasp, and then I shoved him forward and flattened him to the sidewalk with a satisfying crunch. He screamed and blood spread out around his head. I yanked him up by the hair, and he blinked, stunned, as blood cascaded from his bent nose.
The red-faced victim, much younger than the perp who’d been attacking him, choked and coughed, turning to curl into the fetal position on his side as he gasped for air. His hand flew to his neck and he rubbed. The unnatural flush began to leave his cheeks. I pressed the assailant’s fucked-up nose against the cement until he let out a guttural yell.
“What were you doing, dirtbag? Nilsson, my cuffs are in the car!” I sighed as it occurred to me I’d already stashed them because we were supposed to be done for the day. Uneasily I glanced up at the sky that was a deep indigo, the short-lived color before true night fell. There was barely a hint of sun left.
“Got mine,” he said around wheezing for air, slowing to a stop. His black boots came into view at my side and his cuffs landed near my knee with a clatter. I grunted and snagged them. The move on my part let the perp get his hand free, but I strained to keep him in place as I adjusted the cuffs and wrestled the restraints onto him.
“You’re a decent match for me, bucko. It’s fucking obscene that you were on that smaller guy. What were you thinking? You’re four times his size. That’s assault, battery, oh, maybe attempted murder, for starters.” I growled. “Not a fair fuckin’ fight at all.”
“That asshole!” the perp screamed, and I winced. His victim scrambled away and sat up, poking at his neck. Tears flowed out of his bloodshot eyes—probably damage from his attack. I suspected the waterworks weren’t from emotions, but rather the bodily reaction to getting his air cut off and fighting to breathe. I stared a second too long because the light from the streetlamps caught on his face and it was classical perfection. Wavy honey-brown hair, absolute symmetry to his sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and fucking edible plush lips. His fortunate looks were topped off by a lickable cleft in his chin. The perp heaved underneath me and tried to throw me off. I countered by tightening my hold on him.
“Come on. Cute boy like that? What could he possibly do?” I tried not to wink like an asshole and failed, and the vic flushed a dangerous red again.
“Warwick got my coffee shop fucking canceled. All the goddamn college kids are boycotting it because he told them to stop coming. I closed six fucking hours early!” The perp’s neck strained until every sinew showed, and spittle flew from his lips, along with droplets of blood.
“Lies,” the vic rasped, his brow furrowing. “I just told everyone about the spikes.” He scowled and wheezed out another cough. He had one hand tucked in his pocket, but I doubted it was a weapon or he would have already used it. The big man under me struggled, and I leaned all of my weight on his shoulders.
“Doesn’t give you the right to attack anyone, jackhole. Basically nothing does. If you have a dispute, go through the courts the legal way.” I glared down at him and sighed as Nilsson got on his phone and spoke to someone. I needed this to not be our problem right now, for any number of reasons, the main one being it had been a long, hellish day already.
“Warwick destroyed my business!” The perp’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, they were so wild. “I’ll fucking kill him!”
“You must be cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” I rested an elbow between his shoulder blades and used my other hand to shove my badge in his face. “You do understand who you’re saying this shit to, right? You have the right to remain silent. I honestly don’t give a shit if you do, but you got it.”
The vic trembled all over like I’d tossed him in a freezer and got to his knees. Heaving in a deep breath, he drew his repurposed gray combat jacket tight around his slim torso. “Those spikes you put in the doorway at night to drive off the homeless are inhumane. It’s getting cold. The buildings radiate some heat, and people are afraid to sleep in the park after all those bodies were found this summer. You’re a monster.” He rubbed at his throat and let out a sob I didn’t think was for show. I slammed the perp against the ground again just because I hated seeing the pain he’d caused.
The vic’s personal scent, a sweet musk shot through with hints of ozone and lightning, distracted me as it wafted on a chilly breeze that blew into my face. He was probably the one telling me the most truth about this situation because I’d never met someone who smelled that clean and wasn’t… for lack of a better description, a good person. A pure soul. My senses could pick up extremes—the very good, like this man, and the very bad, like my host, who reeked of sulfur to any demon. At least, I assumed Abe Walker’s stench would come across the same to my spiritual kin. I’d never talked to another demon that I could recall.
I didn’t remember a lot of things about my past. Most memories from my hosts before this one were a vague haze.
The perp struggled, and I barely had to stress my muscles to keep him on the ground. “Hey there,” I said to the vic, and I really took him in. His blue irises were stunning, which was bad with the beast stirring awake inside me. I froze as my host fixated on him, a snake looking for a place to sink his fangs. “Focus on me, huh? Are you okay?”
Nilsson tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced up into his sunburned face, and his long blond hair, which had pulled out of the ponytail he kept it in, was a frizzy mess from our short chase. Two beat cops stood with him, maybe the ones who normally worked this neighborhood.
