Fires Of Solstice Part 5

"I am what I am. I've accepted it. It's about time you do too. You have never understood the overwhelming urge-the l.u.s.t-for the hunt and the kill. To have my victim's throat between my jaws, to feel the terror pumping through his veins with his blood. When that pimp started beating her, I had to kill. The bloodl.u.s.t demanded it. I couldn't control the craving for fresh blood once I heard her screams and smelled her fear."

Bleddyn braced his hands against the mantel and stared into the dancing flames.

He heard Rhys step forward and tensed. The last thing he wanted was pity.

Rhys cleared his throat and started to speak. "Bleddyn... " He didn't finish his sentence.

Instead silence roared through the room.

Finally he said, "The woman saw you kill him, didn't she?"

Bleddyn rolled his shoulders. Shoving himself away from the fireplace, he turned, filled another snifter and gulped the rich, red liquid. "The woman saw a wolf."

"There aren't that many wolves running around New York's Central Park," Rhys commented dryly.

Bleddyn swallowed more brandy. "She probably doesn't know the difference- probably thought I was some kind of big dog."

"You have to leave the city. Go back to the estate."

Nostrils flaring, Bleddyn's head snapped up. "What about the lecture? You set it up. And I'm not leaving without Meredythe."

"You can't stay now!" Rhys raked his fingers through his hair again. "Not after this last death."

Bleddyn poured more brandy. "I thought that was the plan. Get Meredythe interested in the story and she'd come to me herself."

"She will," Rhys cajoled, "but so will at least half a dozen other reporters if they start putting two and two together. A little digging and they'll discover Dr. Bleddyn Glyndwr, noted authority on wolves, was in each city where and when one of these murders took place. The inferior reporters will come to you because you're an expert. The good ones will want to know what you had to do with the deaths."

"Then you better make sure n.o.body except Meredythe finds out." Setting his empty gla.s.s on a table, Bleddyn disappeared into his bedroom.

Once inside he stripped and stepped into the shower, braced his hands against the tiles, bowed his head and let the pulsating hot water relax the tension in his shoulders. How he hated this l.u.s.t to kill. Would he ever be free?

A picture of Meredythe appeared in his mind's eye. Absolutely fearless, she'd thrown her flaming curls over her shoulder and arched her delicate auburn eyebrows at his comments. Then she'd shot blue daggers with her eyes, daring him. How could he resist kissing her? She was so beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered. And her lips... He groaned, remembering their taste.

His c.o.c.k stirred.

Gathering his will-he would not give in to l.u.s.t again tonight-he forced himself to relax.

His c.o.c.k stilled.

Opening his eyes, he pushed himself away from the wall and turned his face into the spray. A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. After his kiss, she'd had the audacity to slap him. And she hadn't backed down, hadn't cowered in fear as so many others had.

G.o.ds, how he needed her.

"Do you know what you do to me? Do you have any idea how stimulating, how arousing it is for me to see you like this, laid out before me like a gourmet meal? Your nipples are hard and pointed, begging for my mouth. Your stomach is smooth, perfect for licking and kissing. Your legs... G.o.ds, Meredythe, but your legs are beautiful. So perfectly toned. Do you have any idea how I long to have them wrapped around my waist while I bury my c.o.c.k in your c.u.n.t?"

He dragged the tips of his fingers down her rib cage to her stomach. "You're wet, Meredythe. I can smell your p.u.s.s.y, and it smells so sweet my mouth is watering. I'm going to taste you tonight. I'm going to lay myself between your legs and suck the sweetness from your c.u.n.t until you can't stand it anymore and scream for me to bury my c.o.c.k inside you."

Moaning, Meredythe shivered as he caressed her navel. Just the thought of his mouth between her legs had more juices flowing. Why had she fought him when she'd first met him? How did she manage to walk away from him?

"You want me and we both know it," he continued. "That day in your boss's office, your body cried out for mine and you fled rather than give in to it. Then, when I found you, you finally listened to your body. Your nipples practically pushed themselves out of your shirt to get to my mouth and your c.u.n.t dripped with c.u.m. You wanted my c.o.c.k buried deep."

His hands were magic and she couldn't deny his words. "Yes, oh yes. I want you. I want your c.o.c.k inside me."

His chuckle was arrogant. "I'll bury it deep, I promise. But first, I've dreamed of getting my mouth on your b.r.e.a.s.t.s." Bending over, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, twirled his tongue around it, then nipped it.

Moaning, Meredythe arched her breast farther into his mouth. "Oh G.o.ds, yes. More. I want more."

His fingers slid between the slick folds of her c.u.n.t. "You're so wet, love," he murmured against her breast. "So wet and wild." He lifted his fingers to his nose and inhaled.

Meredythe's breath caught in her throat. His eyes seemed more golden than silver now, and his face was tight with controlled pa.s.sion.

"You smell like woman and s.e.x and pa.s.sion. I want you."

Then he licked his fingers.

Meredythe shuddered. G.o.ds, what was he doing to her?

He slid his hand back between her thighs and pinched and rubbed her swollen c.l.i.t. Her hips bucked against his hand. He bit down lightly on her nipple.

He rubbed harder. "Come for me, love. Come for me." He slipped a finger inside her.

"Ahh!"

Heat radiated outward from her c.u.n.t as Meredythe flew apart. Once she was able to focus, she stared into his now-golden eyes.

A bonfire erupted behind him. Slowly, his form melted then reformed, and a huge black wolf stared down at her.

Once again Meredythe exploded out of a dream, filled with fear.

"Merrooww?"

Pulling the cat into her arms, she sat in her dark bedroom and held him close until his rumbling purr calmed her frayed nerves. "s.h.i.t, Thuse, what's happening to me? Why am I having these dreams? How can I let one jerk affect me so much even if he has a body to die for?"

Methuselah rubbed his head against her chin then squirmed until she released him. As usual, he stretched out beside her and purred.

Raking her hair back off her face, Meredythe stared into the darkness. Another dream. Just another dream. She squeezed her legs together and shivered as fresh desire danced in her c.u.n.t. No, not a dream-another nightmare, and no nightmare was going to drive her from her bed, not even one with a dream lover who made her come in her sleep.

Early the next morning, Meredythe was driven from a restless sleep plagued by visions of wolves and fires when Methuselah batted her nose.

She cracked her eyes open and glared first at him then at the clock. Six a.m.

Methuselah meowed once commandingly, jumped off the bed and looked back over his shoulder.

"All right, all right, I'm coming." She sat up, yawned, stretched and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Groaning, she pushed herself to her feet.

Stumbling across her bedroom, she knuckled sleep from her eyes and followed the cat's insistent meows into the kitchen. Dumping some dry cat food into a bowl, she shoved it under his nose. "There. Now quit complaining."

Then the phone jangled.

Muttering a curse when her groping hand knocked the receiver from its cradle, she scrambled under the table after it on her hands and knees. After another curse-she'd b.u.mped her head on the edge of the table-she sat in the middle of the floor and lifted it to her ear.

"h.e.l.lo?"

Silence as she listened.

"James? What?"

Meredythe held the phone away from her ear, stared at it, then listened into it again. "What did you say?"

Her eyes widened. "Another murder? In the park? Are you sure it's the same-" Her entire body tensed. "I'm on my way."

Thoughts whirling, Meredythe scrambled to her feet and hurried back to her bedroom, stripping off her sweats as she went. Once there, she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and dragged her brush through her hair. Not giving a thought to makeup, she shoved her feet into a pair of running shoes and pulled a black blazer from her closet.

Hustling into the living room, she grabbed her tape recorder from the bottom desk drawer and shoved it into a backpack. Dumping her purse on the sofa, she grabbed her wallet, her press ID, a tablet and a couple of pens and shoved those into the backpack too. After a quick stroke for Methuselah, she grabbed her keys. She was out the door less than fifteen minutes after her boss called.

"Elevator's too slow," she muttered and scrambled down the four flights of stairs to the street. Luck was with her. She was able to hail a pa.s.sing cab immediately. As she settled into the seat, her mind whirled with the information she'd read yesterday.

"What a mess," the homicide detective grunted to the uniformed officer as he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth. "Make sure you don't touch nothing. The forensic guys will be here soon."

A siren blared in the distance.

The younger officer shuddered. "I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole, Sarge.

What do you think happened?"

The whining siren drew closer.

Ignoring his own order, the sergeant nudged the body with his toe. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d had his throat torn out. By all the footprints, I'd say it was a pretty big dog."

Flashing lights cut through the gray fog that coc.o.o.ned the small clearing.

"'Bout time," the detective muttered.

The siren stopped screaming as a van with "NYPD Forensics" on the side appeared on the wide pathway and halted. Two men emerged. The first began taking pictures. After he finished with the body, the second man knelt next to it.

"s.h.i.t, what a mess."

The first man looked up. "How many pictures you want, Kim?"

"Everything within a hundred-foot radius. Make sure you get pictures under those trees over there too."

"Got it," the photographer answered as he disappeared into the bushes.

The overweight detective pushed himself closer. "Whaddaya think, Doc?"

Busy gathering evidence, the younger man never looked up. "I'll let you know after I examine all the evidence."

"a.s.shole sn.o.b," the sergeant muttered a bit too loudly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watched the other man poking around the dead man's body.

"You said there was a witness? I'd like to talk to her," the younger man stated as he examined the ragged neck wound.

"What for?"

The young scientist sighed. Sergeant Hooper was a real pain in the a.s.s. "There was obviously some kind of dog involved. Maybe the witness can tell us what kind."

"Witness is a wh.o.r.e. The only thing she knows about dogs is doggy style," the sergeant said with a loud guffaw, obviously pleased at his own joke. "Somebody used his fist on her. Probably the owner of the dog. Besides, she's not here. Ambulance already took her to the hospital. You guys shoulda got here quicker."

Neither noticed Meredythe until she was straining against the yellow police tape. "Kim? Kim Takimo? Is that you?"

"Back off, lady, you can't come in here," the sergeant bl.u.s.tered, but his eyes were glued to what he could see of her braless chest behind the open flaps of her blazer.

Pulling out her ID, she flashed it in his face. "I'm a reporter. I have every right to be here."

"Says who?" he sneered, his eyes darting from her chest, to her ID, to her face and back to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her nipples were trying to see what was going on too.

"Never mind, Sergeant," Kim interrupted. "I'll take full responsibility."

"Any evidence goes missing, it's your a.s.s, Doc." Then, swearing under his breath, the sergeant stomped away.

Turning to the young patrolman, Kim glanced at his nametag and said, "Keep the joggers from coming down that path, Officer Poole. Call for backup if you think you need it." Then he sauntered over to Meredythe.

As the young policeman hurried away, Meredythe muttered, "What a freaking a.s.shole that sergeant is."

Grinning, Kim said, "You're right about that, Meredythe. How have you been?"

A wide smile appeared on her face as she turned her attention to the young man in front of her. "Just fine. How are Terri and the new baby?"

The young man's grin widened. "They're both doing great. Jason even sleeps through the night now."

"That makes Terri's life easier." Glancing toward at the gory body, Meredythe eyed the corpse, mentally shuddering at the brutality of the crime, thankful she had a strong stomach. "What happened?"

He looked back toward the body. "This guy had his throat torn out by some kind of dog. I'll know more once I can get my samples to the lab. Why are you interested?"

Leaning against the police tape, she pulled a small camera out of her bag and snapped some pictures. "Let's just say there might be an angle to the case."

"Not talking, huh?" he teased with a grin. "You reporters..."

She grinned back. "Ha! Like you forensic guys are real forthcoming. If you'd given me just a little hint about old man Stockard..."

"I can't jeopardize a case. And why do you have to keep dragging up that one? It was two years ago."

Shifting, she leaned closer and snapped another picture.