Nature of the Beast Page 14

  “Oh god, tell me you’ve heard from Booker and Addison?” She straightened up a bit in bed, still holding both phones. “In my desperation to leave all the sadness behind, I forgot about Booker and now…”

  He rubbed her arm lightly as she crossed them over her sheet covered chest. “Addison’s fine, I spoke to him not so long ago.”

  “And Booker?”

  Paris paused before shaking his head. “Haven’t heard from him. He hasn’t checked in with me, lately.” Paris offered still rubbing her arms and bending his head to look at her. “Bg what was that phone call about?”

  “A nurse a Cabrini Medical Centre, said a John Doe was dumped at their emergency room. They want to ID him. He had a phone on him, that dialed this phone,” she said holding up the mystery phone. “Which correct me if I’m wrong, is Addison’s phone?” She looked at Paris who face gave nothing away.

  “Yes, it’s Addison’s phone.” He said dropping his hands off her arms and taking the phone off her.

  “Who’s the John Doe Paris?” She asked suddenly anxious. He shrugged his shoulders putting the phone down.

  “I don’t know.”

  “So it could be Addison or Booker?”

  “No, Addison was with me the other night.”

  Bg frowned, looking at him hard. “What aren’t you telling me? What the hell happened that night when I…blacked out or whatever the hell happened to me?” She asked him quickly.

  “You don’t remember all that much do you?”

  “Up until the club and I think some other place, there was a…lycan? It’s a bit hazy.”

  “Maybe we should do this somewhere else, not here.” Paris suggested flinging the cotton sheet aside and sitting up.

  “No. Here, now, I need some answers. This cannot wait, I need to understand what is going on, why there is a nurse calling Addison about a John Doe body dump and why Addison’s phone was in my house and I was locked inside my house that night and your car was parked outside with the gates to the grounds locked, which means they were programmed from inside my house. Yet you, Addison and Booker were nowhere to be found come morning. What the hell is going on?” Bg said looking back at him and raising her voice in annoyance.

  “It’s not as mysterious as you’re making it sound.”

  “Then please, explain it to me so it makes more sense than this.”

  “Night before last, you and I and Booker were at a club, when you started to get sick, your temperature spiked, you got the sweats, then you started shaking, then you kind of had a fit of some kind, you were unconscious I think, for most of it. Booker and I took you to a nearby safe house. Damon, the lycan you remember, it was his place and Booker was trying to help you out of your fevered state. By giving you a sense of familiarity and pack. Only it didn’t really seem to be working. So we thought it best to take you back to your family home, that maybe that would sate your wolf and give your body a bit of time to recover from fighting the shift.”

  “I was fighting a shift?”

  “For three hours you fought it. So whilst you weren’t conscious enough to remember us, or hear us, some part of you was conscious enough to try and win the battle of what was happening to you.”

  Bg relaxed her shoulders. “Go on.”

  “Ah, let’s see, as we were waiting for Addison and Kingsley to bring up the cars, there were these werewolves…” He trailed off, a faraway look in his eye.

  “Kingsley was there? The pretty black man from the club.” Paris nodded his head and ran a hand over his mouth as the realization hit him.

  “And Booker said, he recognized the three werewolves who were walking over to us, they seemed to want to fight, asked us what we were doing with you.”

  “They were Breukelen? Out of their territory on a lunar night?” Bg asked raising her eyebrows. “We all know to stick to Brooklyn during lunar week, for our own safety and others. So there are no pack mis-understandings.”

  “Booker knew them. They seemed to know him too. They were drunk and itching for a fight. I think we gave them just cause when they saw me carrying you in my arms, in nothing but a sheet.”

  Bg dropped her arms heavily. “You were standing on a public street, with me naked, in nothing but a sheet?”

  “We were kind of hard pressed for time. Had to think fast.” Paris stated pushing off the bed. “We got in the cars and sped out of there, intending to head back to your house and hopefully, somehow make you better there. Only we got ambushed just inside Industry City Park.”

  “Ambushed? By who?” Bg asked frowning as Paris picked up his jeans of the bedroom floor.

  “I don’t know, there were a lot of them, all Breukelen, they surrounded our convoy, so we were trapped, couldn’t go anywhere. Now that I think about it, I bet those loups-garou we saw in Manhattan phone ahead of us, and set the whole thing into motion. It makes sense if they did. They thought we were doing something suspicious with one of their own.”

  “Me draped in a sheet, in your arms, out of it.”

  “Right, and with Booker coming off as hostile and defensive to them…of course.” Paris said looking away and back at her. “Makes perfect sense now.”

  “Okay this is all very fascinating stuff, that sounds like a really whacky fun night out, but it doesn’t give me all the answers or help us figure out who the John Doe is.” Bg said back at him impatiently.

  “Ah so we were ambushed, Booker and Kingsley were in front of us in Booker’s car, so they ran interference, allowing Addison and I to slip through the pack and get you back to your house.”

  “Then what?”

  “You shape shifted, the minute you were outside the car. So Addison unlocked your house from the back, and opened the front door, we maneuvered you inside and you tried to attack him. He got a little scared and dropped the phone.” Paris buttoned up the fly on his jeans and walked around to her side of the bed.

  “I attacked him? Oh no.” Bg muttered putting a hand to her head.

  “It’s all right, you didn’t get him, as such. But we shut all the doors locking you in and the property grounds.”

  “And your car was already there, parked and you guys had no means to drive it out of there.” Paris nodded his head back at her.

  “So you just left?” She asked curiously.

  “Called it a night and went home.” Paris said sitting down beside her. Again the sounds of mobile phone rang out and Bg rolled her eyes, delving into her handbag again and producing her own phone this time.

  “Hello.”

  “Baby-girl, it’s Booker.”

  “Booker,” Bg said excitedly looking at Paris, who then realized who the John Doe was. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear from you.”

  “Is Paris with you?” He asked curtly.

  “Yes, he’s just filling in the blanks for me on the other night’s shenanigans.”

  “Good, well tell him to keep an eye out for Conall Wakely, we haven’t been able to account for his whereabouts yet and I’d hate to think he’s still obsessed with your break up, but…”

  Bg nodded her head slowly. “Yeah, I get that.” She said softly as Paris waved a hand at her, indicating he wanted to speak to Booker.

  “Uh, Paris wants to speak to you.”

  “Got not time, gotta assist your sister with something.” Booker said disconnecting the call, as Bg looked down at the phone and blankly back at Paris.

  “Well?”

  “Ah, couldn’t talk to you had to help my sister with something. He said to tell you that we should be looking out for Conall Wakely, that he hasn’t been able to track him down yet.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem.” Paris replied as she slipped the phone back in her handbag.

  “I’m confused again, what does Conall have to do with all of this and the John Doe?” She said softly as the last two words made her eyes wide. “Oh, Conall is the John Doe?”

  “No he’s not.” Paris replied.

  “But how do you know that?” She asked
as they walked back towards the front of the sex store.

  “Because I picked up Conall Wakely after the ambush. He’s in Manhattan Maen custody. The John Doe is one of mine, it’s Kingsley.” He replied factually, standing up again.

  “Wait a second. Kingsley is the John Doe, but how?”

  “In the ambush, it was him and Booker doing all the fighting, casualty of war I guess.”

  “Casualty of war? Do you even hear yourself, how can you be so casual about his death like that?”

  “My lieutenants know the deal. We all accept what could happen to us in circumstances.”

  “Ugh! That’s just so cold. They’re people!” She yelled at him, flinging the bed covers off herself.

  “They’re loup-garou!” He roared back at her. Bg shook her head, her eyes beginning to feel watery again. “If a Breukelen was missing, your sister and brother would be up here in my face about it after that ambush, and we both know it! Werewolves look after their own, no matter what.”

  Bg looked at him, holding the covers to her chest. “And Conall? How does he fit in to this?”

  Paris stared at her hard, his jaw tightening. “You mean other than beating you senseless to a bloody pulp? Who do you think was leading the ambush on us Bg? It was Conall! He was there, front and center and calling Booker out. He gave the command to start the fighting, I saw it myself!”

  Bg was stunned into silence. The sounds of the street life around them, seemed pleasant by comparison to this shocking revelation. Cars drove by, a car horn honked, water splashed under tires cars in the wet roads and damp pavements. Women’s shoes, clicked along the sidewalk and the smallest bit of jazz music could be heard faintly in the distance.

  “Because of me.” she said softly. “He was coming for me.”

  “And I am never going to let him get near you again.” Paris declared fiercely, the anger in his voice evident.

  “So you grabbed him, and brought him back to Manhattan Maen territory, where the Breukelen, technically, can’t interfere in your pack’s jurisdiction.”

  Paris looked around them and back at her sighing as she began to hastily dress. “Yeah, smarter than I look. My father brought us girls up to know a fair bit about Pack law. And I know by grabbing him in our territory, in Brooklyn, and instead of handing him over to his own kind to be dealt with, you’ve just about started a war between the Breukelen and the Manhattan Maen. It’ll be seen as an act of aggressive defiance against the tri country pack’s treaty.”

  “So you think I should just let that that punk, go? After what he did to you ? Not just the first time, but for last night too? Attacking us, when we were trying to help you get home? To be safe?” Paris said angrily standing opposite her.

  “This isn’t your fight.” Bg ground out between her teeth.

  “The hell it isn’t!” He roared at her. “The woman I love is in danger because her psycho ex loup-garou boyfriend can’t move on and let her go. So anytime she’s not by my side, he thinks he’s got a shot at her again, whether it’s to take her back or to bash her brains in, I don’t know! But he won’t stop until someone makes him stop.”

  “Oh and that someone has got to be you?” Bg fired back at him.

  “Yes.” He ground out angrily.

  “Why because you’re the Manhattan Maen alpha and have to set a pack example that your tough and not to be reckoned with lightly?”

  “No because, you’re not his anymore.”

  “I am a Breukelen, Altijd. And I am my own person and I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh really?” Paris smarted at her. “Because the other night, you couldn’t. You literally could not take care of what was happening to you.”

  “That night, was a one off. This whole lunar week experience is way off the scales of normalcy for me. And even if I can’t take care of myself, I didn’t ask for you to do this.”

  Paris stared at her and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this, you’re actually starting to sound like you’re defending the guy for his actions. He left you bleeding in my arms.”

  “I am not defending anything Conall has done. Least of all his attack on me. But having you fight my battles for me isn’t going to work either. It’ll just make me more fragile than I already feel about this. I need to do this for myself, by myself, my way. Not your way, because your male pride is taking a hit that you’re pretty little girlfriend is a shit boxer.”

  Paris huffed loudly looking at her, shaking his head and tapping his foot. “Where are you holding him?” Bg replied calmly. Paris shook his head. “You need to tell me where Conall is and what you’ve done with him.”

  Paris shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

  “Final warning, and take me at my word, you need to tell me where Conall is now and what you’ve done with him. Because when the next leading alpha of the Breukelen Pack, either Bodil or Aksel, find out about this, and they will, then you can expect, the ties of friendship to break for good with Booker. Anything that was between us, to be together, will be over. The Breukelen, will not stand by idling, letting another pack, kidnap, torture and hold for imprisonment, one of its own, that they themselves would otherwise deal with.” Bg said coolly calm.

  “He killed one of my men!” Paris hissed back at her. “Kingsley is dead because Conall Wakely has anger issues about women. Because he is the one who put together the ambush that killed a peaceful, Manhattan Maen convey into Breukelen territory. We did not invite this on ourselves!” Paris growled. “He hurt you.” he said softening and walking over to her and cupping her face in his hands.

  Bg blinked and the tears built in her eyes. “Paris, I’m in love with you and that’s why I’m pleading, don’t make this worse. Let me handle it.” She said holding back sobs.

  “I can’t do that. When Kingsley died in that ambush, it became Manhattan Maen pack business. What kind of alpha would I be if I didn’t seek my retribution for his death? What would my people think of me?”

  Bg looked up into his eyes and held his look. “They’d think you were merciful and compassionate. The way any great leader should be.” Bg replied as Paris lent forward and lightly kissed her forehead, before letting go. Bg looked at him once, and turned walking to the bedroom doorway.

  “Don’t go.” he said hoarsely.

  “How can I stay?” she said before slipping out of the room.

  20

  Bg had never had such a horrible come down from something before in her life, so fast. She’d been in the heights of heaven with Paris. He’d claimed her, she’d become his under that first full moon. It’d felt like fate, home and everything she’d ever wanted and sought out in a partner before. She’d never felt so alive and right in her life before.

  The shape shifting, had been glorious, the most exquisite form of ecstasy she could remember as they’d rolled apart and she’d seen Paris hover over her, keeping the connection closely intimate as he entered his shape shift above her. They’d shared a form of unity that few werewolves truly experienced. It was like kismet. Meant to be. It was surety and security, and prophecy of lifelines finally meeting. That was how universally explosive it felt throughout her skin. And even when she came through, five hours later, she retained some core part of that feeling. A buzz of luxurious excitement of having been with him, had him in her body and their joining marking them both, not just through his teeth sinking into her skin.

  Bg touched the back of her neck lightly as the taxi cab pulled up to a set of traffic lights and tried not to wince. As the fresh feeling of the tenderized, bruised flesh, hidden by her long black hair. Paris, was with her, still, his mark on her would last a good week, if not longer. She had planned on displaying it proudly by wearing her hair up consistently for as long as it dominated her skin. Not something she normally did. But then it seemed like nothing this week, was what she normally did. It’s all been a highly surreal lunar week. Extremely out of left field for her.

  Bg sighed, and rested her head on the cab
window as the taxi took off again from the lights. She wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. The hollowness of losing her father, would greet her back home and compound the loss of what she thought she had gained, with Paris. But what had been gained? He wasn’t what she thought he was, her equal, her partner. The one.

  “Stupid romantic notion.” She muttered out loud to herself looking out at he passing scenery of shops and cars.

  “What’s that?” The cabbie asked her glancing over at her.

  “The concept of love, of everyone having one specific person for them. It’s stupid. Sets you for false guidelines, with utterly unattainable hope, because you just keep shifting the goal posts to meet what you need with whoever suits you. There is no, one person for us all. No one.” She ranted angrily.

  The cabbie grunted at her in return as he kept driving. Bg looked back out the side window. Her mobile rang and she picked up out of her bag, glancing at the caller ID first. “See – it’s not even him. It’s over, and we both know it, so why would he call me.” She bitched, answering Booker’s call to her.

  “What?”

  “Bg?” Booker asked cautiously. “That you?”

  “Yes it’s me. What’s up Booker?” She asked tersely.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in a cab on my way back home.” She replied tiredly, realising she was sick of answering to people on her actions.

  “Good, good. Is Paris with you?”

  “No.”

  “Good, good.” He replied somewhat distractedly.

  Bg frowned.” Why? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, so maybe it’s best if you don’t...”

  “Oh hell no. After the week I’ve had, I think it’s time everybody stops treating little Bg Sommers like she’s a china doll that needs to be wrapped in cotton wool. I am an adult, and I am part of this pack and family. So no, whatever bullshit instruction my sister has given you to give me, you break it now and tell me, honestly, what the hell is going on!” Bg demanded hotly. The cabbie glanced at her catching Bg’s eye; he gave her a thumbs up sign. Causing her to half smile back at him.