Persephone

Chapter 13: Ezekiel

(*A/n: Fair warning for my readers, this chapter contains Sexual Content. This one's hopefully an eye-opener for the big guys! Don't forget to hit the star straight home if you liked it! :D)

Chapter 13: Ezekiel

Ezekiel adjusted the numbers on his locker, and once he opened it, he reached in and quickly shoved a rectangular object wrapped in purple satin in his baseball bag.

Even though the baseball locker room was empty, Ezekiel couldn't get rid of the wet doggy scent that had suddenly invaded the regular school shit. It was as if the place had been overrun by those mutts again. Or, Ezekiel thought, it just had been so long before I got back to practice again. He looked from left to right, closing his locker again and then headed out, pulling his hood over his blonde locks.

Percy, where are you? He scanned the crowd, dismissing the scents one after the other, and not finding where the girl had went to again.

Ezekiel's brow furrowed, tight rage filling him in. Last night, he had waited patiently for Percy to come home, and when she didn't, he began to suspect things, jump into conclusions. And when the clock showed almost 2 AM in the morning, he didn't expect the Alpha of the Braithe Pack deliver her back, much less to her back door. How did they find out about her? He thought. But, differently, other questions were popping in his head continuously, How did she find out about them? How much does she know? She shouldn't know anything, he thought savagely.

And there it was again. He sniffed, Alpha.

He stepped off into the shade of a tree with low, hanging branches and then zeroed on the small group that had exited the hallway. There he was, the Alpha, Joseph, with his usual biker style, his arm thrown over his mate, the beautiful Annaliese. Run out of the beach, my darling? He thought snidely and flicked his eyes on the siblings, Uriah and Kayle, who had Percy in the middle. She smiled at them as they seemed to tell her a good joke, Joseph leading the way to a red Hummer parked at the end of the school's parking lot. They were going somewhere, and Ezekiel didn't like it. She was supposed to be with him and not them. Stupid water-blood mutts.

As soon as the Hummer revved out, Ezekiel turned and then raced out of his hiding place. Frustration, frustration, FRUSTRATION!!! He slammed into the exit doors,quickly found the Janitor's room and locked himself inside. He whipped out the book, quickly slapping through the pages, fury now riding him in a vise. "Mutationem," he whispered.

Ezekiel suddenly dropped the book, doubling back in pain as his skin stretched and his bones popped. He bit his lip from crying out, and yet he allowed himself to giggle out through the pain. He was so a masochist.

Soon it was over, and he stood up erect. He was dressed in another immaculate suit, diamond button cuffs and that shapely jaw again. Gavriel Rayne. Ezekiel-Gavriel let out a malicious chuckle. The real warlock had something next to a measly ant against what Ezekiel had. He still had him in his basement chained up, bruised and bloody. Otherwise, he liked this skin of his. So...manly. The type only hot super models of Calvin Klein had. The type that worked out. Ezekiel liked it.

Then Ezekiel patted his bag, which also transformed into a slick black business bag, and carefully wrapped up the book and placed it inside. Now, he ran a hand over his handsome hair. For that teacher.

*

Harder. He likes it rough. Natalie moaned underneath Gavriel's firm hands, feeling his whole length giving in deeper and out again. She was on the tip of ecstacy, and back down to Earth again, feeling nothing but their two bodies intertwined together. The feel of his firm skin on her delicate chest, the way he handled her sweet spots gently, everything. Natalie never felt this good before.

"Nat . . . Do you love me?" She heard Gavriel's rough voice ask her as he pummeled in again. She snaked her arms around his sweat-ridden neck, and panted, trying to find the words.

"Y-Yes. . ." She stuttered, feeling her heart bursting through the seams. Or was it her climax? Natalie felt herself getting high; so did she felt Gavriel tense and picking up the pace, pounding harder and harder.

Together, their bodies convulsed and then liquids spurted, increasing the heavy scent of sex in the air. Natalie fell back on the covers, sweating profusely.

Gavriel panted and then bit Nat's shoulder gently, and fell back on the bed. Nat snuggled up to him, and then traced line on his hard six-pack. Gods, she had wanted this so much. Being a teacher had its responsibilities and limitations, yet Nat felt more livelier than she had ever been before. And, she had this handsome man to give all what she wants.

Then Gavriel stood up, the scant lamplight illuminating his well toned back as he stretched, and began picking up his clothes on the floor. Nat watched him, slowly turning sad. "Do you really have to go?" She asked.

Gavriel turned around as he pulled his pants up, and put on his suit. Damn, Nat thought as she drank up that image of his skin. "Yes," he answered, although he bent down and then gave her a quick kiss and then continued fixing his tie. All the time, Nat watched him, feeling her womanhood warming up. She couldn't help but rub her legs together for the friction. Maybe he'll stay if he saw me turned on again? Nat thought. She didn't really want him to leave.

"Gav. . ." She said softly and then sat up, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders, exposing her bare chest and voluptuous breasts. She pressed behind his back, and then reached in front, touching his bulge lightly. "Stay with me," she whispered and then bit his earlobe, rubbing her hand over it in a slow pace.

Gavriel didn't respond, but then she felt the fabric of his pants tighten. She smirked, and then stopped, getting off the bed and then going in the shower room.

Nat turned the water on, and then adjusted its temperature, putting it hot. Steam began to fog out by the sliding glass door, and then later, she felt another body slip in with hers. She grinned. . .

-- and screamed as she felt cold hands grip her throat and began to tighten, nails gauging into her soft skin. She felt the blood drain down from the puncture wounds, black spots dancing in her field of vision.

Then as she felt her body go numb, she looked up at her killer, his green eyes ablaze with some psychopathic lust. She heard a pop! and then the face slowly moving, as if the muscles were constructing some kind of work out underneath the skin.

Natalie Norton faced a much more livelier reflection of herself, and died not knowing how a mirror image of herself could kill.