Hunting The Alpha Wolf (Dark Paranormal Romance (Erotic Horror, Erotika)) (7 page)

Her breasts moved
slowly up and down, she was still alive, injured certainly, but alive.

Forgetting himself, and
where he was, just concerned for her safety he ran over to her and kneeled by
her side.

 Her breathing was
ragged and harsh and there was blood all over her chest. So much that it was
matted in her hair and he could see that her head had stuck to the floor. She
was staring up at the ceiling her eyes vacant. She didn't respond at all when
he shook her shoulder.

David had absolutely no
first aid training, but at first glance, judging by the amount of blood that
she had lost, this was well beyond first aid anyway.

But he had to try
something.

 The woman was dying;
no one could survive so much blood loss and keep going for very long.

He remembered a friend,
years ago, showing him how to do a chest massage. He leaned forwards and pushed
down on her chest, her nipples puckered up, and to his shame he starred at
them, fascinated. He had no idea what to do next

Besides, wasn’t a chest
massage used to restart breathing? And this woman was breathing, fairly
strongly as well he realised now that he was sitting beside her.

He scrambled around
looking for her injury; he needed to put pressure on the wound somehow to stop
the blood flow.

Working his way down
from her neck he scanned her body carefully. Her shirt was ripped open, and she
was covered in blood, but there was no visible damage.

There was no visible
wound.

The idea that he had
been tricked had just sunk in as her eyes fixed on his and she punched him hard
in the face.

David toppled
backwards, knocked clear off his knees by the force of the blow. He rolled,
over on his back shocked at the strength of the impact.

His jaw felt loose,
almost as if it had detached from his face, an intense paid spread from his
face screaming across the back of his skull. Desperately he rolled away from
the woman who rose in front of him like a demon from hell. She was covered in dripping
blood, raw hate twisting her face as she leapt on him punching and pummelling
him. Grabbing him by his hair she slammed his head again and again into the
floor.

David saw no pity in
her eyes, no humanity or mercy, and just before he lost consciousness he saw
the werewolf standing up in the corner. It stretched and turned towards him, a
long wound on his arm, visibly healing as he watched.

Ah, he thought, so that
was where all the blood came from, and then the world went black.

"Sara,"
Constantine said, grabbing her arm and holding her back. "He is
unconscious, hit him anymore and he will die."

Sara was breathing
hard; she had never felt so full of life, so hard, so aggressive. She was
filled with a burning anger, a fire in her belly that had driven her to want to
kill that man. She wanted to beat him to death with her bare hands.

"Is this what it’s
like to be you?" she asked.

"It is
close," he said, "you do learn to control the rages. You learn to
dominate your more basic side and not be dominated by it. You don’t have the
time to do that, and anyway the effects will fade over the next day. But yes,
the rage, the intense anger is always there."

"How do you
cope?" her breathing steadied she felt more herself, more in control as he
spoke to her.

"We fuck," he
laughed, "well that and concentrate really hard on not being angry. Sex
dulls the urges for a while. Sex swamps the aggression, or at least redirects
it. That is why werewolves are highly charged creatures, as you are finding
out."

"Now," he
said, "help me get his clothes off."

Quickly Constantine
stripped the man of his trousers and shirt. He gave the shirt to Sara, to
replace the one they had virtually destroyed to create the fake injury. She
wiped his blood from her skin as best she could with her own shirt before
slipping it on. It was far too large, but it would do if it was tucked into her
trousers.

Constantine took the
man’s trousers, which were very much too small. Still Sara noticed they
stretched over his legs rather nicely.

He if anything looked
better in tight jeans without a shirt than naked, and he looked damn good
naked.

Sara looked down, her
boots were in the corner of the room, she’d taken them off hours ago to make
kneeling more comfortable. Slipping them back on she looked at Constantine, she
remembered the snow on the ground, his feet were bare.

"I'll be
fine," he said, "we burn at a hotter temperature than humans. My body
can withstand extremes of cold that you would find completely intolerable. I
will be o.k. don't worry. Still we will have to move pretty quickly once we get
outside, the night is going to be cold and I have no idea how far it is to the
nearest town."

"About 5 miles
across country," Sara said, "but I am not really sure which
way."

"Well, we can
either follow the road or just trust to luck. Once we get out of the grounds it
should be easy to keep ahead of any pursuit. Also don't forget, we have the
element of surprise, so, as long as he won’t be missed, we can get away."

"We could steal a
car," she suggested, rubbing idly at the blood which was clotted in her
hair, what must I look like? She thought.

"No, I have seen
the gates many times, they have an electronic keypad, so we can't unlock them
and they are extremely tough. I think it would take a small tank to smash them
down and we don’t have one."

"We can go out the
way I came in," Sara suggested. "There is a tree branch we can climb
up."

Constantine nodded,
"If we get back to the clearing you first saw me in, can you find your way
from there do you think?"

"Yes, I think
so." she replied, I hope so she thought.

Constantine, with no
apparent effort picked up the man’s unconscious body and stuffed it in the
corner of the room; it might on casual inspection pass for him.

He then grabbed up the
door key, walked over and stuck his head out into the corridor. There was no
one in sight so he smiled at Sara, stepped through and waved for her to follow.

He closed and locked
the door, then holding the key in the lock he twisted it hard anticlockwise,
the key bent out of shape and then snapped. Sara looked over his shoulder; he
dropped the broken piece in her hand leaving the other end still in the lock.

"That will slow
them down," he whispered, Sara nodded, and impulsively kissed him on the
mouth. She felt sad remembering she had done the same to Gary, "For
luck," she said, a little choked.

Their cell was at the
end of a long corridor, and was clearly part of an old cellar system. Judging
by the cobbled floor and brick walls anyway.

At the other end of the
corridor a narrow stair led upwards.

"We need to go
this way," Constantine said, and holding her hand he dragged her along the
corridor.

They passed the first
cell on the right and Sara paused for a moment at the door. She whispered,
"Are there people in every one of these cells?" she asked.

Constantine sniffed,
drawing in a deep lungful of air, "Yes," he replied. "Well, not
really people as you know them. So, from the smell there is a vampire behind
that door. She's more than a little pissed off as well."

Sara counted the doors,
15 cells in all, so 15 paranormal entities. Fifteen highly dangerous creatures,
all due to be hunted and killed for sport over the next few weeks.

"We have to let
them out," she said.

"No we
don't," he said firmly. "They may cause a useful diversion I will grant
you. But none of those creatures is likely to leave you alive. I am sure I can
handle myself, but to protect you against a half starved vampire, or a
desperate Mogul Demon would be a challenge if they were on their own. All
together I can’t be sure that you would survive."

Sara nodded, and then
looked closely at the doors, each door had a food slot, through which she
assumed the jailers could push meals without having to open the door. At the
end of the corridor she saw a large wooden key cupboard attached to the wall.

She let Constantine
lead her down the corridor but when she reached the key cupboard she paused.

"Do you think you
could handle what is behind that door?" she asked pointing. Opposite the
key cupboard was the last of the cells, it was right at the bottom of the
stairs.

Constantine pushed open
the flap and peered in, "Yes, I definitely can."

"What's in
there?"

"A Nightmare
demon."

"What’s that?'

"Well they are the
sort of demon who sneaks into your bedroom at night and eats you alive. So to
be honest they are only really dangerous if you are asleep."

He was smiling broadly,
Sara was not sure whether he was telling the truth or not.

The door was labeled
with a number 1, so she, before she could change her mind she grabbed the key,
and opened the door.

Constantine stepped
quickly into the room ahead of her, and she followed less confidently. Cowering
in the corner was a three foot high green scaly reptilian creature. It had a
face that was almost completely dominated by its wide mouth.

It looked at
Constantine, who took a step towards it and a low growl escaped from his
throat. The demon stood, tilted its head to one side, weighing up its options,
then it went down on its knees and bowed in supplication.

"You see," he
said, "I can handle this one. So what’s your plan?"

Sara put the key in the
door and stepped out, "You stay here," she said, and then grabbed all
the keys from their hooks and ran back the way she had come.

This was taking time,
time she knew that she did not really have. But, she knew that if this plan
worked, then the diversion caused by the escaping creatures would be more than
enough to cover their escape.

'Cabin in the woods'
eat your heart out she thought, as she sorted the keys into the right order.
Then, standing by the first door, before she could change her mind she pushed
the key through the food slot and ran to the next. At each door she lifted the
flap and threw the key into the cell.

She had got most of the
way down the corridor when she heard the first door open. Glancing back, she
saw a young girl step gingerly out of the room.

She had long black hair
and extremely pale skin. Her white nightdress was stained and splattered with
blood.

For a second her eyes
met Sara's and she smiled sweetly.

It was like looking at
your own death, it was like staring into the pits of hell.

Sara’s bladder gave way
in abject terror as the girl started to glide slowly down the corridor towards
her.

Shit, she thought, this
is not such a good plan, I still have two more doors to do.

Dragging her eyes away
she ran to the second to last door and she pushed the key through the flap.
Terrifyingly it was snatched from her hand and inserted into the lock almost immediately.

Sara bolted for the
last door, and slammed the key through the slot before she ran for the relative
safety of the final cell.

Looking over her
shoulder it was as if the gates of hell had opened, as all manner of creatures,
large, small, plain or vicious looking poured into the corridor.

They all took a second
to review the situation and then on mass ran towards the stairs, and Sara.

Sara leapt for the
final door, dived through and Constantine slammed it shut behind her.

Sara slammed her knees
into the floor as she rolled across the carpet.

"Fucking
hell," she said, through gritted teeth, Christ her legs hurt.

Constantine stood with
his back to the door, pressing his ear to the wood.

They heard the
slithering, gibbering and howling of the creatures as they passed the cell, and
finally the soft pattering of a child’s bare feet. The feet paused for a moment
outside their cell and they heard a soft, "Thank you," through the
wood, then she was gone.

Constantine picked Sara
up of the floor, sniffed deeply and smiled.

"Good plan,"
he said, "next time, you hold the door and I’ll do the running."

"You wouldn’t have
let them go," she said, “besides I didn’t want to be left alone in here
with scaly face."

Constantine carefully
opened the door and said something to the nightmare demon in a language Sara
did not catch.

To her untrained ears
it sounded vaguely Latin. The demon stood, bowed to them both and ran up the
stairs, with what looked very much like a smile on its face.

"Ok,"
Constantine said, "it's time for us to leave."

Sara followed
Constantine up the stairs, he trod carefully she noticed, placing his feet at
the edges of each step, so as to minimise any creaking.