Exclusive Excerpt For Steemit - Deadlier Than The Male - Thrill or Threat?

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The Wolves exited the property and made haste back to Red’s house where Victoria, Oscar and Elizabeth were the only ones still up. Elizabeth sat stroking Rom’s ears as they spoke.

Red and Luke burst into the kitchen, surprising Rom into barking. Red and Luke both ran up the stairs to gather clothes, Red put on a robe and Luke, his jeans – sans button. Red arrived in the living room first but waited for Luke. She was excited, but the elder Wolves were patient and waited.

“We’ve found something important!” Red’s face was flushed; she couldn’t keep her hands still. ”Oh and Nichasin is in my bed, recovering, it seems.”

Luke looked dazed at her ability to bounce from one subject to the next, but allowed her to tell it her way.

“Darius has developed – or had developed for him – a drug which can be absorbed by Humes, giving them a high, but infusing their blood with something which makes a Wolf unable to change if he takes the druggie as victim. I wonder if it prevents a Wolf changing into Wolf too, but how many Wolves do we know that stay in this form to feed? Hmm.” She realised she was waffling and checked herself.

Her audience sat rapt but bemused by her verbal bounce.

“Sorry. OK, Luke, could you and Steve go out tonight and watch the crack-house we’ve just been to. I’d like you to observe everyone that comes and goes. We need to know if that character is the main delivery boy, a ‘usual’ one or if they use different couriers. I’m pretty sure it was the same guy I sensed last night when I was taking a kill before I came home and had to be helped. And I know it’s the same guy that was in the club the night we first saw Darius and Anna, remember? His girlfriend was taking the drugs meant for sale and Darius had her executed.”

She calmed down with an effort and studied the group of elders for a moment.

“Victoria, Oscar, I have to ask permission for something. It’s necessary, but nasty.”

“If you think it’s important, you have my full backing,” Victoria said without hesitation.

“Wait before you give permission, Victoria. I realise Oscar’s opinion on this, he regards it as torture,” Red said.

Elizabeth listened, her interest roused.

“Yes, Oscar has always made his views very clear,” Victoria said. “But if you think it absolutely necessary, then I trust you and I trust you implicitly, both as Sentinel Exemplar as well as my friend. I take it you cannot go through the Ministry and that is why you’re asking for my special dispensation.”

“That’s exactly right, Victoria. I need to ask you as Lycaeon for permission to me, as Sentinel Exemplar, for this to be sanctioned. I cannot trust The Ministry at this moment; it saddens me that I also cannot rely on my team of Sentinels. I do not know how many are embroiled in this, if any. Even if the ones who are still loyal act with the very best intentions, it only takes one traitorous Wolf to find out and it would be as though we were telling them ourselves. I don’t want to be killed, I don’t even want to be injured. I can’t fulfil the prophecy if I’m dead, can I?”

Oscar blanched at the comment. “That’s blackmail,” he said.

“Blackmail is such an ugly word,” Red said, only half joking.

“You have persuaded me. Elizabeth, I would like for you to avail the Sentinel Exemplar of your facilities.”

“My duty to the Lycaeon is always my pleasure,” Elizabeth said, smiling.

Luke thought that he was glad that the smile was not directed in any way at him.

“Sentinel, you have not had cause to use Elizabeth’s services before, have you?” Oscar asked, his displeasure turning to concern.

“If that’s what you want to think, Oscar, then no, I’ve not.” Red’s smile almost rivalled Elizabeth’s.

“Liar,” Victoria said.

Red had the decency to appear affronted at the accusation.

The man awoke, naked, cold and cramped. His body had been forced into a small triangular cage. On two sides were brick walls. Thick metal bars completed the triangle. His leg rested on the bars, wedged and uncomfortable, so he moved. With a great deal of difficulty, using his feet against one corner, trying not to scrape his skin on the rough brickwork, he walked his hands behind him and up the wall to manoeuvre himself to a standing position.

Shadows and gloom engulfed the room. A sliver of light from a dimmed spotlight provided the only illumination. He could see more bars at one end of the room, diagonal to where he stood, imprisoned. He looked around at first, checking out his surroundings before making his escape. The bars would take no effort to burst them from their hinges.

He sensed a Wolf, and guessed he must still be quite doped for the presence to only just be noticeable, but that also meant he was recovering from the drug at a good rate. He tried to remember how he had been drugged, but couldn’t just yet.

Movement in the deepest shadowed part of the room caught his attention. He leaned against the wall, but took hold of the bars. He intended to shout and ask who was there but instead, he yelped and sprang back, pain ripped through his hands. He let go of the bars in reflex.

“Did that hurt?” A female voice, silky and seductive in its menace emanated from those shadows.

“Yes it fucking did!” he shouted, fists almost closing on the bars again.

“Hmm, silver coated bars do tend to hurt Wolf flesh.” The owner of the voice approached and a female form stepped into the pool of dimmed light.

He appraised his captor. She appeared to be no more than five feet four tall but he looked down and saw she had boots with at least four inch heels. Her legs were encased in tight black leather, as was her body. Her arms were bare from bicep to wrist and she wore leather gloves. His gaze lingered on the cleavage showing above the tight-laced leather and the choker at her throat glinted as she moved. Her jet-black hair tumbled down over her shoulders and her face was at once recognisable as the woman who had been dancing on a podium at the club he’d been to. He realised it must have been her who had drugged him.

Her eyes fascinated him - despite his predicament – as they had the previous evening, they were amber and seemed to glow in their intensity. Her make-up was elaborate, but not heavy. The eyes themselves were separate entities on their own accord it seemed, delving into his soul. He hadn’t realised last night that she was Wolf, but it made perfect sense to him now. He really should have been more alert, he realised.

“Hey babe, you didn’t have to drug me. You only had to say you’d got this kind of set-up and I’d have come with you of my own free will.” He smiled at her, expecting her to melt as they all did (in his imagination).

She remained silent but her smile widened, showing her pointed teeth just a slightest bit. She continued her approach then.

“Who set me up then? Is it a reward?” He reached through the bars, careful to avoid touching them. She stopped just beyond his reach.

He stretched further, but, ever conscious of the bars, he withdrew his arm.

Again, she resumed her advance. She grasped a bar with her left hand. His immediate reaction was to warn her, but he realised she would already know about the silver – and anyway, she had gloves on.

“You have something for me, something I desperately want from you,” she said, flicking her tongue over her teeth and lips.

“Yeah, you got that right, babe!” He stepped back and looked down at his penis, which was swelling in anticipation, jutting his hips forwards to afford a better view to his captor.

With a sneer of disparagement, she looked at it too. He grabbed his groin in both hands in a promissory manner, and then she smiled again.

Without warning, she lashed out and upwards with the cane she held in her right hand, catching him on the knuckles and just under his testicles. The smell of singed flesh tainted the air for a moment and he yelped once more.

“Hey that fucking stick has silver on it too!” He whimpered in protest, backing away as far as the walls would allow, pressing his back against the bricks, his erection diminishing fast.

“You scrotum licking half-breed, you’re not here to enjoy yourself,” the raven-haired woman snapped at him. “You have information for me, nothing else!” She raised her cane again, through the bars, closer and closer to his face. He kept his nerve and allowed her to move the cane close to his skin. Within an inch of his cheek with the silver tip, he succumbed to his fear and pulled his head back, only stopping when it touched the wall. Still she moved the silver tip towards his cheek, not quite touching his skin. It wavered too close to his face for comfort; he felt beads of perspiration on his top lip.

“I have extensive equipment at my disposal, all manufactured from highest grade silver. All designed by me and made to my exacting requirements. I wield these instruments with exquisite skill. Tell me all I require, all I ask for, and you will survive – relatively unscathed. If you refuse to give me what I need, then you may live to regret it, you may not.” She waved her hand as though either eventuality was of no importance to her. She withdrew the cane, allowing it to scrape on one of the bars as it went.

“I don’t have any information for you, doll,” he said, but his sincerity rang off-key.

She nodded at him, as though she believed him, but in an instant, her manner altered as she poked him in the chest with the sharpened point of her cane. He yelped again.

“Don’t play with me, you piece of shit,” she said. “And if you refer to me as anything but Mistress again, I’ll maim you.” She punctuated her statement with jabs from her cane.

He made a grab for it and his fingers brushed the bars, making him wince, but this time he did not voice his pain. She took stock of that, and again, smiled.

“You want this?” she asked, waving her cane at the bars. He grabbed for it again. She allowed him to grasp it. He didn’t keep hold of it for long.

“Not only is the tip silver but the shaft is also coated, you cannot see it in this light.” She reached to a switch on the wall and light flooded the room. The light wasn’t bright, but it was enough to see by. His eyes first closed in a squint from the unaccustomed glare but then widened as he took stock of his surroundings. He wasn’t just in a cage. He stood in a dungeon. Although it did not feel like they were in a subterranean chamber, it looked as though they were. He remained silent.

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