In real life they have miniature shark teeth, drown you, tuck your body into an underwater nook, and when you’re good and decomposed, they eat you.
Thank you, Disney, for the scar of that mermaid bite mark on my back.
The Howl seemed to be fairly accurate so far, and that was something. “Yeah, the ‘Twilight Howl,’ or was it Bark?” I grinned up at him this time. “I think it’s a little more homicidal with Mafia werewolves than cute and fluffy spotted dogs.” I finished taping the last bag.
Delilah and I, while we’d once been fiends with benefits, had been on the lookout for an opportunity to kill each other for a while now. I, because she’d tried to slaughter my friends and brother. Delilah, as she was the single Wolf who didn’t mind screwing an Auphe. Rather liked it, I was pretty sure, as it was dangerous and Delilah loved danger. None of the other Wolves approved, though, including her now all-female Mafia. They worshipped her for taking down the top male Alpha and for being All Wolf, but they had their limits. Fucking anAuphe was one of them. Nobody loved the Auphe. If this was a Lifetime made-for-TV movie, the sobbing would abound.
Delilah would try to kill me. Sooner or later. We’d both been working on killing each other for months now. She’d get around to it personally one day. She’d taken over the entire werewolf Mafia of NYC and she had things to do. Killing me was one of them, without question, but down the list some. Instead she settled for sending me three newly anointed female Kin to do it for her. She knew it wouldn’t work, didn’t want it to work, as she wanted to do it herself. It would be seen as an effort on her part until then.
And Delilah, hell, she might be able to pull that off. I was good, but so was she.
* * *
I’d always known how good she was and smart, but it hit home with what happened before Niko had come home. I knew she’d suggested it. No other Wolf would’ve thought of it.
What had caught me off guard was it didn’t happen that way. It didn’t. They don’t knock on the door. They’d have broken in through the second-floor window to slink in. They’d have tried to surprise me outside before I got through the door. They hadn’t done those things, the normal things . . . in our world. They’d showed up half an hour later and knocked.
Me? I’d been stupid. I hadn’t bothered to inhale their scent when I’d opened the door, because monsters? Monsters don’t knock. Or so I was under the impression.
I’d opened the door, Glock in hand. I was perplexed at what stood there, then caught on, and couldn’t have been less in the mood for this shit. Fur and round gold eyes that belonged in the forest instead was hovering above a sidewalk. Yeah, I’d been stupid, no lying tomyself about that, but not completely idiotic. I’d been prepared. A human knocking at your door can kill you if he’s armed well enough.
The three of them, in varied stages of wolf, had rushed through and taken me to the floor. There were claws, fangs, and growling—it reminded me of some absolutely unbelievable sex Delilah and I had had more than once. You can have good memories whether the person involved is a psycho killing nightmare or not. Strange, but true. I’d been relieved none of the Wolves were silver-blond like Delilah. When I put her down, I’d do it because it needed to be done. I didn’t want substitutes that I could pretend were her. When I ended her life, I wanted to see it in her eyes, no one else’s. She’d tried to kill people who mattered to me,
everyone
who mattered to me, to gain points with the Kin. Forget what we’d had before, I wanted to see the realization, fear, and haze of death in the red-gold of her setting sun eyes—clouding as I watched. The other Wolves didn’t, wouldn’t matter.
The first one who had been on me had dark-brown hair, to her waist, a filmy down of it on her face that crept down her entire body, which was easy
Thank you, Disney, for the scar of that mermaid bite mark on my back.
The Howl seemed to be fairly accurate so far, and that was something. “Yeah, the ‘Twilight Howl,’ or was it Bark?” I grinned up at him this time. “I think it’s a little more homicidal with Mafia werewolves than cute and fluffy spotted dogs.” I finished taping the last bag.
Delilah and I, while we’d once been fiends with benefits, had been on the lookout for an opportunity to kill each other for a while now. I, because she’d tried to slaughter my friends and brother. Delilah, as she was the single Wolf who didn’t mind screwing an Auphe. Rather liked it, I was pretty sure, as it was dangerous and Delilah loved danger. None of the other Wolves approved, though, including her now all-female Mafia. They worshipped her for taking down the top male Alpha and for being All Wolf, but they had their limits. Fucking anAuphe was one of them. Nobody loved the Auphe. If this was a Lifetime made-for-TV movie, the sobbing would abound.
Delilah would try to kill me. Sooner or later. We’d both been working on killing each other for months now. She’d get around to it personally one day. She’d taken over the entire werewolf Mafia of NYC and she had things to do. Killing me was one of them, without question, but down the list some. Instead she settled for sending me three newly anointed female Kin to do it for her. She knew it wouldn’t work, didn’t want it to work, as she wanted to do it herself. It would be seen as an effort on her part until then.
And Delilah, hell, she might be able to pull that off. I was good, but so was she.
* * *
I’d always known how good she was and smart, but it hit home with what happened before Niko had come home. I knew she’d suggested it. No other Wolf would’ve thought of it.
What had caught me off guard was it didn’t happen that way. It didn’t. They don’t knock on the door. They’d have broken in through the second-floor window to slink in. They’d have tried to surprise me outside before I got through the door. They hadn’t done those things, the normal things . . . in our world. They’d showed up half an hour later and knocked.
Me? I’d been stupid. I hadn’t bothered to inhale their scent when I’d opened the door, because monsters? Monsters don’t knock. Or so I was under the impression.
I’d opened the door, Glock in hand. I was perplexed at what stood there, then caught on, and couldn’t have been less in the mood for this shit. Fur and round gold eyes that belonged in the forest instead was hovering above a sidewalk. Yeah, I’d been stupid, no lying tomyself about that, but not completely idiotic. I’d been prepared. A human knocking at your door can kill you if he’s armed well enough.
The three of them, in varied stages of wolf, had rushed through and taken me to the floor. There were claws, fangs, and growling—it reminded me of some absolutely unbelievable sex Delilah and I had had more than once. You can have good memories whether the person involved is a psycho killing nightmare or not. Strange, but true. I’d been relieved none of the Wolves were silver-blond like Delilah. When I put her down, I’d do it because it needed to be done. I didn’t want substitutes that I could pretend were her. When I ended her life, I wanted to see it in her eyes, no one else’s. She’d tried to kill people who mattered to me,
everyone
who mattered to me, to gain points with the Kin. Forget what we’d had before, I wanted to see the realization, fear, and haze of death in the red-gold of her setting sun eyes—clouding as I watched. The other Wolves didn’t, wouldn’t matter.
The first one who had been on me had dark-brown hair, to her waist, a filmy down of it on her face that crept down her entire body, which was easy
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