Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series Two #5)

Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series Two #5) Page 13

This would be undisputable evidence that would eventually determine the wolf’s fate when taken down into The Hollows and tried before the Elders.

These were extremely dangerous operations and the risk to the undercover officer’s life was high. If the intended target became suspicious in any way, which had happened on several occasions before, the Lycanthrope would show no hesitation in killing the Vampyrus cop. I therefore had to become extremely skilled in secreting the cameras so they were not obvious or visible to the wolf we tracked. The cameras that I used were known as ‘pin-hole cameras’, the idea being that they were so small they could actually be hidden in the pin-hole on the lapel of a suit jacket, in a book, in a car, or hotel room. I became quite skilled and cunning in my deployment of these cameras and would hide them in the faces of television sets, in alarm clock faces, behind two-way mirrors, and even in the ceiling right above a bed where the Lycanthrope intended to murder his human victim.

As I was very busy with work, I hadn’t seen Pen since Christmas. We continued to speak on the telephone and exchange letters. Pen always listened with interest as I enthused about my job, but she said very little. I guess it was difficult to listen to me babble excitedly on about how I spent my time hunting down her own kind and sending them to trial down in The Hollows.

When I asked Pen how ‘The Ooze Bar’

was doing, I noticed she was often reluctant to elaborate on her business and even more secretive when I asked about Marc. Again, I often felt that sense of unease about Marc. So, when my Inspector authorised me a few days leave that Easter, I took the opportunity to go and visit with Pen. Unfortunately Chloe was unable to get holiday from work, so I went on my own. On Good Friday morning, I threw a packed bag into the boot of our car and began the long drive to Pen’s.

As soon as Pen opened her front door, I could see she had lost weight and looked tired.

“How ya doing?” I asked, pulling her close to me and hugging her tight. I was shocked at how bony she felt in my arms.

“I’m good,” she tried to assure me.

I followed Pen into the living room and could see that her jeans were hanging loosely about her hips due to so much weight loss.

“Have you been dieting?” I asked casually.

Pen looked herself up and down then back at me. “Aw, no I haven’t. I think it’s the long hours I’ve been doing. It’s hard work running the café. I always seem to be rushing about and I’m on my feet from morning ‘til night.”

“Where’s your bar manager, doesn’t he help out?” I asked, trying not to sound resentful or jealous.

“Yeah, he does…he’s at the café at the moment with his brother getting everything ready for opening tonight. Anyway, can I get you a Coke or anything?” Pen said, trying to steer me away from the topic of Marc.

“That would be great, thanks.”

Pen disappeared into the kitchen and returned within moments and handed me my drink.

“I’ve got something to show you. Come with me,” she said excitedly. I followed Pen upstairs to her bedroom, the place she slept with Marc, I guessed. She swung open the door and said, “Well, what do you think?”

I stepped into the bedroom and in the far corner was a tall glass cabinet. I walked towards it and could see it contained statues and memorabilia from ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ I took a closer look. There were porcelain models of Dorothy, Tin Man, Scarecrow and the Lion, displayed neatly on glass shelves. There were pictures, but the jewel of this collection was a pair of sequined ruby slippers.

“Do you like it?” Pen whispered.

“Well, yeah…you certainly love Oz, there’s no doubt about that,” I smiled at her.

“Are you mocking me?” she smiled back.

“Would I mock you, Pen?” I laughed, although I was a little curious as to why she had collected all this stuff.

As if reading my mind, Pen looked at me and said, “I’ve never been able to forget that night you took me down into The Hollows and we watched those magical moving pictures.”

“I haven’t been able to forget it either,” I whispered, looking into her eyes. “I couldn’t forget how you left that night.”

“I didn’t want to go,” she said. “I wish we had grown up together for longer. Perhaps...” Pen trailed off.

“Perhaps what?” I pushed.

“We would be together now,” she breathed.

“We are together now,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” she came back at me, her eyes looking haunted somehow.

“And you know that it would’ve never worked out between us, however much we might have wanted it to. It is forbidden for us to mix,” I reminded her.

Pen stood silently for a moment, staring at the red ruby slippers in the glass case. “Do you remember the kiss?” she finally asked, without looking at me.

“How could I forget it?” I whispered.

Then, turning to face me, she whispered, “Do you want to kiss me like that now?”

“Yes,” I nodded slowly.

“Why don’t you then?” she whispered back, taking a step forward so she brushed up against me.

“Because it’s not allowed,” I told her, trying to keep a grip of myself.

“That’s the cop talking,” she said softly.

“What is the real reason?”

Breaking her stare, I said, “I love Chloe. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I love Marc,” she said.

“Do you?” I whispered. “Do you really love him?”

“I love you,” she said.

To hear those words made me want to wrap her in my arms and never let go. I wanted to lay her down on the bed and undress her. I wanted to know what it would be like to feel Pen naked beneath me as I made love to her over and over. But I couldn’t. I loved Chloe, and Pen was right – I was a cop who hunted down Lycanthrope. Being a cop meant something to me.

It wasn’t just a job anymore. My brother had discovered his vocation early on in his life and I had now found mine. I couldn’t uphold the law and track down Lycanthrope if I was prepared to break the law as well.

So with every piece of resolve and strength I could muster, I looked at Pen and said, “I love you, too, but I can’t...”

“I understand,” she said, turning way.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

With her back facing me, I heard her say, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno, you just seem…well, not yourself. You don’t look good, Pen,” I told her.

“Gee thanks! You certainly know how to make a girl feel good about herself,” she groaned.

“You look like a bag of bones, Pen,” I continued. “I’m worried about you.”

“I promise you there’s nothing wrong,”

she tried to assure me.

“You would tell me if there was something up, wouldn’t you?” I asked.

“I promise,” she smiled, then left the room.

We sat on the porch and drank lemonade and talked until the sun had faded. Pen asked if I would ever tell Chloe what I truly was, and I said that I had come close to telling her several times.

I’d heard of other relationships between Vampyrus and humans that seemingly worked out okay. These relationships, although frowned upon by the Elders, were allowed. I wanted to ask Pen if she knew the real reason why the mixing between Lycanthrope and Vampyrus was totally forbidden, but I didn’t. When we ran out of things to say, we listened to the insects that hummed in the woodland which surrounded Pen’s house.

When the evening started to cool, Pen disappeared inside. Whilst she was gone, I lit the pipe I had come accustomed to smoking. Most of my colleagues laughed at me, saying that it was an old man’s habit, but I enjoyed the warm sensation that the smoke gave in the back of my throat. It relaxed me somehow and took the edge off my cravings for the red stuff.

Pen reappeared with a couple of blankets and a tray, which was loaded with bottles of Coke and popcorn.

“Sorry it’s not Bree seeds and Inferno Berry Juice,” she smiled, setting the tray down. I took one of the blankets and tossed it around my shoulders to block out the chill. I reached into the huge bowl of popcorn and it was warm to the touch. I chucked a handful into my mouth.

“It’s been a long time since we did anything like this together,” Pen said, taking her seat again.

“It must be about nine or ten years!”

“That long, huh?”

“Who would have thought, all those years ago that you would have turned out owning a cafe from Oz and me a cop,” I mused.

“Yeah, you a cop…amazing,” she said with a big smirk on her face.

“What do you mean by that?”

Pen clutched her face in her hands and in a scared little voice, she cried, “Jim Murphy, the great werewolf hunter!”

“Oh my, what big claws you have,” I laughed, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl and throwing it all over her.

We spent the rest of the evening chucking popcorn at one another and singing songs from those magical moving pictures, The Wizard of Oz.

Over that weekend I hadn’t seen Marc once. He was up and gone before I rose in the morning and didn’t come home until I had gone to bed. When I broached this subject with Pen, she told me that Marc had been working long hours at the café, as Easter was one of their busiest times with tourists. I lied and told Pen it would have been nice to have caught up with Marc before I left. Pen finally relented and on my last morning with her, we drove down to ‘The Ooze Bar.’

The bar hadn’t opened yet for the day, and when we walked in, Annie was cleaning behind the bar and the jukebox was playing quietly in the corner.

“Hello again,” I said.

“Hi, Jim. How are you?” she beamed.

This was the first time I had seen her without the lion’s make-up and she had an impish little face that was unusually pretty.