Bottled Fury

Chapter 2: Seat of Power

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Man, she was exquisite. Her long lean body would fit perfectly against mine. No woman, human or supernatural, had denied me anything. They were either too intimidated or they wanted to share my bed. By the fierce light in her eyes, she wasn’t the first nor did she want the latter. By her confident rolling walk, she was a warrior and a good one if she allowed me to be at her unprotected back. As I closed the door, I watched as her eyes tracked everything in the room. A beautiful but sturdy desk, the deep mahogany with gold accents glowing in the low light, graced one side of the room. Behind it stood a bookshelf with a mix of binders and books and a few filing cabinets. On the other, a floor to ceiling mirror hung on the wall. Suddenly her stance grew wary. She didn’t trust the mirror. Then shrugging, she turned to me.

“May I have my badge back? I sort of need it.” Her voice was low, sultry without trying. Tossing it to her, she waited until the last moment to reach out and snatch it out of the air.

“Do you always speak that softly, or is a part of the disguise you’re wearing, she-wolf?” Her hazel eyes narrowed, her hand reaching up to stroke the end of the braid resting over her shoulder. Distracted by the movements of her hand over light brown hair streaked heavily with blonde and red, I noticed adornments emerging from the long braid. I had a feeling that the decorations were weapons. Glancing at the mirror again she spoke, “I always speak this softly, I find it calms hysterical victims because they’re forced to quiet down to hear me. It also disturbs my targets when I catch up to them because they’re expecting righteous anger, not cool indifference.”

It was quiet for a few moments. She didn’t seem fazed by the stretching silence. She just went about examining the room, until she finally walked over to lean against the desk with one leg bent, the picture of relaxation.

Finally she spoke, her words carefully chosen, “Again, I ask, do you know anything about the murders?” Still staring at her, I measured the words. With a flash of insight, I realized I was the suspect. I smiled and shook my head but answered truthfully, hoping she could smell it.

“She-wolf, I had not realized there had been murders on my territory. However, you must know some of my past, or I wouldn’t be here, facing an immortal investigation. So let me guess, the marks match what I did years ago to those bitches?” The look on her face proved two things: she wasn’t expecting my quick deduction and that I was right.

“Let me enlighten you then. Those bitches were planning to kill me and take over my seat of power. Now, as The Alpha, I control all the wolves in North America and there would have been problems.” I watched her eyes widen at that piece of information. I was amused that she hadn’t known.

“You’re name isn’t Troy is it?” Measuring her up, I had a gut feeling that she should know my real name.

“Actually, it is Troy, but most don’t believe it.” I watched that sink in then she flinched. I would ask about that in a moment, but it was time to clear a few things up.

 “Now as a species, we follow dominance. The more dominant, the higher you are in the hierarchy. And it’s usually the males that have to fight for the right to get higher in that hierarchy. Those bitches were not dominant and they were trying to completely change the way of life by imposing a democracy. A laughable human idea, and to top it off, women, unfortunately, have few positions of power in a pack. I only know of one pack that is entirely dominated by women, and even they respect my right to rule. Anyway, I killed them when I found out because if they had succeeded in killing me, chaos would have reigned in North America as wolves fought to kill for the seat of power. I have worked hard to civilize my species and they were planning ruination of it. So I killed them as an example to my people, which under Old Law, I had every right to do.”

During my little spiel, she continued to stroke her braid, absorbing what I told her.

Her golden eyes flashed violet and her nostrils flared. Suddenly the room reeked with the spicy aroma of anger. “The council knew, so why the hell did they send me after you?” She growled, an animal sound coming from a human throat. Suddenly, she gripped the edge of the desk, claws sharpening and leaned forward opening her mouth to pant. Her canines had lengthened, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled.

One wrong move, and most likely I would be dead as she struggled with whatever realization she had come to. Long, tense moments passed before her canines receded and her claws retracted. However, her eyes remained violet.

Suddenly, she spit out, “Are you mated?”

Bewildered, I answered automatically, “No, what does that have to do with the murders?”

With her chest heaving under the barely there tank top, her violet eyes returned to a warm gold. “Nothing, Troy, but it has everything to do with me.”