Survival (#Wattys2015)

32

Cole's POV

"What are you doing here!" she shrieks, moving further back as my arm recedes to its original form. I sight. Why am I not killing her again? It would already have been done and someone will have disposed of her corpse. Instead I try relaxing and get set to answer her questions.

"We're on a job."

"What job? How do you become a... a what you are? Does it hurt? How many are there? Is Jeremiah one too? Where do you-"

"Wooah woah calm down killer, a question at a time, okay? Lets take this slow." I lift my hands up and signal towards the couch so we can sit and talk like proper and mature adults. She just shakes her head and brings her arms closer around her body, silently defying me and I'm tempted to throw her on my back and sit her myself on the couch. Somehow I doubt she'd appreciate that, most people wouldn't. «I think we'll just start from the beginning yeah?"

I walk on myself towards the couch and slump on it, after all this is going to be a long long night. She stays standing, arms crossed and a few metres away from me. She better suit herself.

"You can become a werewolf by two ways, either being bitten by a hereditary werewolf, or having a parent who transports the genes, I was the latter. My mother actually, she had the genes, when my father found out he fled-"

"You said no one could know, that you had to kill me" she interrupts. Wow, she remembers how to speak, shocker.

"Well obviously she wasn't about to kill my sperm donor, so that scumbag must be somewhere coward upped." I speak acidly of my father, who wasn't much of a father, in fact I don't remember much of him. She only nods and I continue. "A long time ago the world, our world, was ruled by demons, yes they do exist" I stop her from interrupting again. "Lets just say being a human until their govern was like being close to nothing, a distraction or a plaything. Demons always want more and more, they're never able to be content with what they have, must be their thirst for chaos, the thing is they started fighting against each other for the complete and absolute power. Other magical creatures rebelled and threw them out of the way, they all hoped for a better world, except it didn't come immediately."

"What happened?" she asks when I pause to catch my breath. I notice from the corner of my eye than she has approached a bit closer and that her stance seems less tense. At least she's not freaking out anymore.

"Vampires and werewolves had a disagreement and got in a war in which nearly every magical being participated. The results were pretty catastrophic and so we set a new government that will stop these things from happening. Our ancestors divided the power in two parts, half of it was given to the Elves who are seconded by us and the other half to the Shadow People who are represented by the dullahan."

"Elves..." she mutters as if in awe, her eyes glossy and looking into the void. "What are the shadow people and the others?"

This time when I pat the place next to me she sits, maintaining a certain distance between us. "The dullahan?" she nods, the word unfamiliar to her. "Shadow People are... scary you could say, although not as much as their enforcers." I laugh, "They wear long cloaks and nobody's ever seen their face or hands and they move soundlessly just like shadows. The dullahan are headless riders" she gasps, her hand coming to her mouth, "they usually black horse and carry their head under one arm. The head's eyes are small, black, and constantly dart about like flies, while the mouth is set in a hideous grin that touches both sides of the head."

Her eyes dilate in horror and I suddenly feel the urge to wrap my arms around her and assure her they'll never get anywhere near her. Instead I stay put, waiting for her next question.

"And what job do you have here?" her voice is smaller than before.

"Demons were banned to gather in large masses, a fear that they'll want to recuperate their power I guess. They're here now and more than they're allowed. Jeremiah is one of them too."

"Why are his eyes yellow?"

"Demon hierarchy. The Lilith are only women and have white orbs, they're the only ones who have direct contact with Lucifer, then comes the yellow-eyed, like Jeremiah, who are the army generals. Red and black eyed are henchmen, soldiers of demons who blend in perfectly with humans. They have their own law enforcers too, the Knights of Hell, in fact that's their only purpose, to kill. The ones I hate the most are the Archeri demons."

"Why?"

"They have little value, and are feeble but they're the only ones that can possess children, and once they possess a body the only way to expel it is to kill the kid" I answer truthfully and she shudders, bringing her arms around her again as if it will help her escape this new reality she's facing.

"That was a lot of information for today, maybe you should go to sleep and we'll continue tomorrow" I tell her, looking at the clock that strikes half past eleven. She stubbornly shakes her head and opens her mouth, to ask another question I suppose - this girl is practically a sack of questions.

"Is there a hierarchy for you type too?" I can tell the word werewolf feels unsure in her mouth and she's not ready to use it yet.

"Yes, but a less severe one. There are various packs in America and each one has their own Alpha; then there's my pack who rules the rest of the packs. So you could say my Alpha is in charge of all werewolves in the country. George and I are betas, the Alpha's right hand and body guards so whilst he's not here we give the orders."

"Who is your Alpha? And why is he the one in charge?"

"You're better off not knowing his name, that's secretive" Even though I fed her so much information tonight, delivering Ceitho's name isn't something I feel comfortable with. "He's in charge because he killed the Alpha before him. If someone wants the place he'll have to kill the one that's currently in charge, but first he'll have to kill George and I." And we have enough of a reputation that no one will try, but I don't tell her that; somehow saying that I'm a professional killer seems a bit wrong right now.

"How long will you stay here?" She asks after a moment of silence. Her voice is lower than before, almost shy and I turn around to see her looking at the floor.

"Until our job here is done, love"

"And then where will you go?" she whispers, inching towards me.

"Back home" I whisper back, turning my body so that I'm facing her.

She doesn't respond, just bites her lower lip and flutters her eyelashes in a way that drives me fucking crazy, her mouth centimetres away from mine. Slowly, as to not scare her away, I lift my hand and bring it behind her neck, effectively closing the gap between us. Her breathing hitches, that and her thundering heartbeat the only sounds in the room, even without supernatural hearing I would've been able to hear it.

I'm the first to make contact with her plump lips, a sense of relief and warmness washing over me, like our lips were made to perfectly mould against each other. She hums appreciatively and grabs the bottom of my shirts, pulling me closer to her; so close that with one little shift she's lying under me, her hands roaming my tattooed back and mine caressing her face and chest.

"You're so beautiful" she murmurs as I detach my lips from hers to attack her neck. I'm pretty sure she didn't mean to say it out loud and that, in fact, doesn't even realize she's said anything. I gently nip the base of her neck; in retaliation she lifts her hips up, earning herself a growl. She moans louder when I shuffle and she's able to feel my hardness pressing against her upper thigh. How many times have we been in this position already?

"I want to do something for you" she mumbles, her eyes shinny and lips redden.

Aaand another chapter up ;)

Oh, I'm thinking about entering this story for the wattys, so comment and vote like mad, I'd appreciate that xoxo. How has the weekend been?