Dead Wolf

Page 12

“I had to cut the top off, just to get it into the house,” Pen laughed to herself.
“You’ve certainly done the house up wonderfully,” Chloe said, glancing around the room at the mass of decorations that hung from the ceiling.
“Marc helped me,” Pen said.
To hear of the guy’s name made my stomach ache with jealously again – or was it regret that it wasn’t me?
“Sorry he didn’t wait up to meet you, but he’s gone to bed,” Pen added.
“So, he’s living here with you?” I asked, trying to sound casual and matter-of-fact.
“Yeah, he moved in almost right away,”
Pen explained, but wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“Must be love,” Chloe smiled, then glanced at me.
“He is kinda cute. We hit it off almost straight away,” Pen told us.
“So how did you meet?” Chloe asked.
“He just strolled into the bar one day looking for a job. I had just lost a barman and Marc said he had done bar work before – so I hired him there and then. He seemed to know what he was doing and got on well with the customers. He began to suggest a few ideas of how the café could run better.”
“Like what?” I was curious to know as it appeared to me that Pen’s café had been running just fine before this Marc suddenly appeared on the scene.
“Marc suggested that I start serving breakfast, you know nothing too much, eggs, bacon, and toast – that sort of thing. I was lucky really because his brother happened to be a chef and Marc thought it would be a good idea to hire him.”
“So they’re both working for you?” Chloe asked, shooting me another look with her dark brown eyes.
“Yep, Steve works in the kitchen and Marc is now my bar manager,” Pen explained.
“Bar manager? He’s been promoted through the ranks rather quickly,” I said.
“Wait ‘til you meet him, he’s a nice guy,”
Pen assured the both of us.
“I can’t wait,” I said, looking straight back at her.
I was woken to the sound of ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ by Bony M playing on the radio somewhere in the house. I peered at my watch and groaned when I read that it was only just after 7 a.m. Chloe and I hadn’t crawled into bed until the early hours, as we had sat up talking with Pen.
I rolled over and nestled my head against Chloe’s auburn-coloured hair.
“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” I said and kissed her cheek.
“What time is it?” she murmured without stirring.
“Just gone seven,” I told her.
“Aw, it’s still the middle of the night,”
Chloe groaned, pulling the bedding tighter about her shoulders.
“C’mon, sleepyhead, it’s Christmas day,”
I said, gently shaking her.
“Okay, Okay, what’s the rush?”
“Firstly, I want my present…” I started.
“Who says you’re getting one?” she murmured.
I ignored her teasing and continued. “And secondly, I’m dying to meet this Marc.”
“Mmm…he sounds rather intriguing. Pen seems to be hooked on him,” she said, still sounding half-asleep.
“I just hope she isn’t being used,” I wondered aloud.
“What d’you mean?” Chloe rolled over onto her back and looked at me through a pair of half-opened eyes.
“I dunno. Call it a copper’s nose, call it a hunch, but something just doesn’t feel quite right.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. Chloe rolled over again as if to go back to sleep, so I grabbed one of the pillows and dropped it on her head.
“C’mon, I want my present,” I laughed.
“Your present is at the end of bed,” she groaned.
I looked down to see a brightly wrapped box. Excitedly, I removed the wrapping paper and the box lid and looked inside. “Carpet slippers?” I frowned.
“Don’t you like them?” she asked, peering over the top of the bed covers at me.
“I guess,” I said, looking at them.
Then, giggling, she whispered, “I’ve got your present right here.” Chloe pulled back the bedding to reveal her naked body.
“Happy Christmas, Jim,” I whispered to myself in delight. Dropping the slippers, I dived on top of her.
Squealing with pleasure, Chloe yanked the duvet over us, where we stayed together for another hour or so.
We showered, dressed, then made our way downstairs. Pen and Marc were already up and were cuddled up together on the couch by Pen’s enormous Christmas tree.
“Merry Christmas,” Pen beamed.
They both got up from off the couch.
“Marc, this is Jim and Chloe.”
Marc stuck out his hand and we both shook it warmly in turn.
“Good to meet you at last,” I said, looking into his eyes. They were a bright hazel-orange and I knew, like Pen, he was a Lycanthrope.
“Likewise, I’ve heard so much about the pair of you, particularly you, Jim,” Marc said.
“All good I hope.” I knew it was a bit of a lame reply but it was all I could think of saying.
Marc was, I guessed, in his late twenties. He was slim, tall, with light brown hair that dangled across his forehead. He wore a hooped earring in his left ear and had a short goatee beard.
“While you sit and get to know each other, I’ll go and get the champagne,” Pen said excitedly.
“Champagne? What’s the special occasion?” I asked Marc as Pen left the room.
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” he grinned, taking his seat back on the couch.
Chloe snuggled up cosily into a large armchair and I sat on the rug by her feet.
“Pen told us that you’re working at the café,” I said in an attempt to break the silence.
“Actually, I’m the bar manager,” he said in a way that right from the start illustrated his importance in Pen’s life and business.
“Yeah, she told us that,” I said nonchalantly as if it made no odds to me whatsoever. “What did you do before?”
“Before what?” Marc asked as if knowing what I was getting at.
“Before you met Pen?” I said, staring at him.
“This and that, all sorts of stuff, really,” he smiled back at me.
“Oh yeah, like what?” I tried to ask as casually as I could.
“Boy, when Pen said you were a cop, she wasn’t kidding,” Marc tried to joke.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It feels like I’m under interrogation.”
Marc attempted to make this sound like a joke, but I knew he was really telling me to fuck off.
“How would you know what it feels like to be interrogated?” I pressed with an insincere smile playing on my lips.
He stared at me momentarily, those bright eyes of his weighing me up. Pen entered the room carrying a tray of glasses filled with champagne.
“Everyone’s hitting it off, I hope,” she said.
“We’re all getting along just fine,” Marc smiled back at her.
Pen handed out the glasses, then raised hers into the air. “A toast to new friends, new beginnings, and a very merry Christmas!”
We all stood and ‘clinked’ our glasses together.
“Merry Christmas,” Chloe and I said.
“Merry Christmas,” Marc grinned, raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip, and all the while eyeing me from over the rim of it.
Chloe and I made a move back home the day after Boxing Day. I had enjoyed the last few days spent with Pen. Although Marc and I hadn’t really hit it off, we remained polite and civil to one another but I got the feeling that he didn’t like me.
I wasn’t bothered as I didn’t trust him. I just couldn’t put my finger on it, but something just didn’t seem to sit right with him, and it wasn’t just the fact that he was a Lycanthrope.
“Are you sure you’re not jealous?” Chloe asked me as I attempted to explain the nagging feelings of concern I had.
“Jealous, what do you mean?” I asked, secretly wondering if that wasn’t the real reason for my dislike of Marc. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Aw c’mon, Jim,” Chloe sighed with a smile, as we set off in the car for home. “She’s a beautiful woman and I guess she always has been – even back when you were just a couple of kids.
Do you seriously expect me to believe that you didn’t have a crush on her?” Then fixing me with a cool stare, she added, “And perhaps you still have?”
“Nonsense,” I said, shaking my head.
“We were like brother and sister – that’s all it was back then and now. I’m not jealous. I’m happy for Pen if she’s met someone who’s good for her and will make her happy. I just get the feeling that Marc isn’t going to do that for Pen.”
“Why not?” Chloe asked, still watching me.
“Dunno,” I sighed. “Just something…”
“Pen will be okay. She’s all grown up now. You both are, you’re not fourteen anymore,”
she said, steering the car along the narrow country roads, which were still heavy with snow.
“I know…I know…” I said thoughtfully, sitting back in my seat and watching the world that I had come to call my home, speed past outside.
Chapter Thirteen
Murphy
Come spring, I had managed to secure myself a secondment to ‘The Special Operations Department’ (or Special Ops as it was commonly known) at work. I was therefore no longer carrying out uniform patrol and spent most of my time working undercover, undertaking covert observations on drug dealers and armed robbery suspects. I had my Inspector to thank for such a rapid progression in my career. Like me and the other officers on his team, he had handpicked all of us, because we were like him – we were all Vampyrus.
Part of my new role involved me setting up ‘stings’ to capture the rogue Lycanthrope who were committing crimes in our county. As part of this team, I learnt how to track them; to hide secret cameras to help locate the wolves and capture not only them, but their crimes on tape.