Chapter Four: Addiction
The Wolf had caught his prize and could bite her but as he howled he felt his strength depleting, a cool burning rushed through his veins that pumped blood fast through his body. That cool numbness returned the world was a haze. It was disorienting and he shook his head. Whimpering at this unforeseen enemy he could not fight. Rhea opened her eyes to dare a glance to the whimpering of the massive form above her seeing him shake his head. Gold amber eyes fogged with the drug of the potent sleeping draught laced with Wolf's Bane. She hesitated but slowly reached out, part of her to help the other part for pure curious fascination. She had never been this close to a Werewolf without killing it and that had only been once before. There was no point of turning back now she was still beneath him, he could kill her anyway. Her ungloved fingers took out the darts in his flank before going through the coarse auburn hair that was his fur. The skin beneath was black and thickened yet soft at the same time, burning hot with the heat his temperature gave off.
Gently touching the cheek and feeling the strong jaw muscle and sinew flex before she reached a tipped ear. The Wolfman froze to the touch and growled but smelt that vanilla winter to lower the growl. The drugs and the familiarity of Rhea only lulled the beast into a sense of security, a moment of Abberline slipping in those eyes knowing her. She grabbed his ear and rubbed it between two fingers along the tip she felt a shudder go through him like a real wolf his ears were sensitive. The commotion outside had died down and moved away from the Conliffe residential area, no longer feeling the hunger or lust he felt tired. Lowering slowly into her palm as his nose twitched she was steady with her touch.
Rhea watched his eyes get drowsy and start to blink lethargically, glad Gwen hadn't come down to investigate if everyone stayed away she could get him to sleep. Moving slowly despite the growl he uttered she sat up slowly. Touch still tracing. She showed him no quarter of fear, no hesitation, like facing the real wolves just last week. She wouldn't lie that he didn't frighten her but she remembered facing off with the one that scared her. The heartbreak when she had helped end the beast and taking the man with it, the sorrow and heartbreak of Gwen's tear stained letters.
Where did the beast and the man really begin and end? Touching him with both hands tracing along his ears and jaw to his lips that twitched barely showing those ivory fangs. Eyes on his she stilled her body as he started to move. The wolfman felt lulled by her and moved a little into her to rest it's head on her stomach and lower chest. Hearing the heartbeat of this siren before its eyes closed and found them unable to be opened again. She kept running fingers through his hair in an almost petting manner listening and waiting with abated breath trying to ease her storm and keep the heart calm.
Soon she heard the deep breaths of the wolfman as he slumbered to the drugs. With care she tested him and found him dead asleep laying his head back carefully and taking off her coat she covered his back and shoulders with it. But it had her scent that she watched his nose twitch in his sleep before it disappeared against her jacket. Slipping outside she closed and locked the cell door and bolted it tightly. Legs shaking still from the shock of everything and the exertion, her thigh burned and stung as cuts reopened and nicked muscle screamed in protest. It drew a gasp from her by the time she reached the top and she gripped the side of the wall so not to fall down the stairs. Gwen ran forward catching her before he knees gave.
"I'm alright, I wasn't seriously hurt or bitten, and he's asleep." She smiled to Gwen though it was filled with weariness. Grasping Abberline's cane seeing it in the corner, Gwen must have gone back and retrieved his things from the alley system. She leaned on it for strength to keep her upright; she let Gwen guide her up the stairs for the spare bedroom where she winced in almost outcry getting out of her clothes.
"I'll get a doctor." Gwen stopped short her hand snagged by Rhea, looking back it had hurt and it showed in her eyes. "No. No doctors, Abberline will be in danger. Just hot clean water and thread," She winced but let go of her slowly. Gwen didn't like this idea of not getting a doctor to make sure her friend was treated. Yet she did what she was told and had to look away as she started to suture her own wounds in tight but proper stitching. Taking bandages she wrapped her leg and then her arm just below the shoulder in comfortable sleeping clothes she was asleep before Gwen came back.
Gwen watched Rhea sleep, pale from blood loss and exhaustion, but as she said Abberline was safe now. Not only that, it was now confirmed that he was indeed bitten by Lawrence and the new Wolfman. Covering her friend in the blanket she moved her bangs and her eyes were drawn to her twin scars. Hesitating she traced them, wondering how she got them though Rhea never spoke of it. Rhea had seen dangers for years traveling with her family, now she was the last one of her family. Gwen thought on it and couldn't help but see the irony that like her family Rhea had become a hunter but instead of wild game and escaped Zoo animals she had become a hunter of Werewolves not once but now twice.
She leaned and softly blew out the bedside candle and let her sleep, going downstairs to keep watch of the shop.
Rhea stirred before the sun set and looked to the rise of the Goddess of the hunt, gripping her Manchester riffle, a gift from her father on his trip to America. The town had been gripped in fear of the Werewolf that had killed so many, both animal and people alike. She had even found a bear that had been no match, or what had been left of the bear anyway. She heard a twig snap and tensed turning gun against her shoulder poised but blinked. A wolf froze staring back, watching each other. A farmer beside her aimed and she grabbed his barrel yanking it down. "What the hell are you doing?!" She watched the wolf as its ears went up and it turned tail and fled into the woods. "It is just a wolf." She said casually and looked to the sky ignoring the sun but watching for the sliver of the full moon.
"The devil is a wolf and you-"She looked at him sharply and the look made the man flinch. "What you seek is not a wolf but a werewolf right? They are the size of a man, don't use it as an excuse just to shoot and save your damn bullets." She looked then to the men around her they rather grumbled or looked away having been put in their place. Rhea shouldered her riffle and started walking toward the estate grounds of the noble that had refused this little hunting party. She didn't like him, the man seemed cold, bitter, and without compassion for anyone not even his animals or servants. She didn't like the calculating look he gave as if the world was his to size up and take.
It was a look of any mad man's greed. Sir Timothy O'Shea reminded her of a trapped lion who stared you down letting you know the moment the bars were gone you were dead meat. She had tried to get a read on the man but he was deliberately secretive and she suspected he was the beast or knew who was. Her father didn't agree but then again when did he? Rhea walked the moor of Dublin the mists were starting to move inland with the cooling air, winter was on its way. She was glad yet disappointed it wasn't snowing. If it had been they would be able to really track the beast, snow was hard to hide footprints and marks of any kind. Yet thankful because if it had snowed the full moon would of shined upon its pristine surface and revealed her and the other men hunting the beast.
She breathed out in a slow sigh and could see the beginning of her breathing starting to form on the cold night air. She looked at the men who were shivering a little, she didn't blame them but she steeled her nerve. Her father had taken her on hunting trips around the world as his only child he wanted a child that was tough enough to handle anything thrown at her, or so he said. She figured he was just pissed because he hadn't gotten a son. Her mother would have hated it she was sure but her mother had died in childbirth with her brother. As her father had said her opinion didn't matter she was dead.
Rhea relaxed near the tree that she had made her post. Watching the sky darken and the moon soon to rise, she moved from her post quietly, straining her ears as she was taught to. Her father was in the Estate with Sir O'Shea. She heard glass breaking at the house and tensed looking up throwing her hand back to get men to shut up. Signaling for them to take their posts, she hadn't heard her father shoot, but she wasn't taking any chances. The Sheep had been blocked in here on the grounds, easy prey. They were already bleating in fear, something was there, something dangerous. Yet she stilled her body, waiting for it, hoping for it. She wanted to help the people she didn't care for the money as much as her father.
She kept to her feet ready to dash to where the best vantage would be; remembering all the stories the town's people had said she had a hard time believing it to be a damned werewolf. This was the perfect trap and she wanted to catch the bastard red-handed, wanted to face the killer who caused so many wolfs and other animals to be hunted in its place for no reason. Hearing men scream from the estate grounds she broke cover, going into the tree line at a steady pace and slipped into the hidden break in the estate wall staying to a tree her riffle ready. A man lay on the ground, body writhering as his hands pressed to a jaw that was clearly shattered on his blood masked face. There were broken bits of bone and teeth stuck against his chin almost embedded in his lips. His riffle had been snapped in half, like it had been nothing but a frail stick of wood.
"Oh God in heaven!" Someone yelled and she turned in watching the scattering men only to see the flash of movement as red splashed everyone nearby, one of them staggered forward as he dropped to a knee, geysers of blood shot up from his chest, neck and shoulders but there was no head. The head of the man sailed through the air hitting another in the head and chest as it hit the ground. Eyes rolled back with a face in silent scream of horror, tongue lolling out. People screamed further and the chaos started, Rhea froze transfixed and frozen. What the hell could have done that!? Her voice screamed in her head looking around for the creature or man or whatever could have killed like this.
People screamed as servants ran to get inside. Seeing men jerk and hold their stomach as their insides spilt, bodies like paper before the knife. She finally saw it, in the tattered clothing of what had been pants, a shirt and vest. She glared as the full moon cleared the rest of the clouds she didn't believe it but there it was…the werewolf of Dublin! His long black and grey hair becoming coarse fur, Snarling as drool fell in rivets upon the earth seething with his hunger and bloodlust. Prey eternal. Rhea stared at it and the gold eyes that burned beyond any hell fire, if it had been a man once truly there was no man there now. Yet the coldness seemed eerily familiar.
She snapped out of it and raised the riffle from where she hid looking down the sighting and braced her shoulder. Ignoring the world around her and slowly breathed out opening fire.
Rhea jolted awake to the clap of thunder that echoed her dreams of memory. She sat up gingerly and breathed out slow wincing to reach up and trace the edges of her twin scars before she took the cloth Gwen had left and wiped off her forehead. Getting up and testing her weight on her leg it wasn't as bad as last night she was going to have a bit of a limp. She gingerly got dressed it was very early. She went down stairs not bothering Gwen letting her sleep. She had fallen asleep in the chair near the door of the store, most likely to keep an eye and ear out for the police. She covered her with a bit of a throw blanket and went down the steps to the basement.
Peeking in she couldn't see anyone and keeping her hidden knives at her belt she moved into the cell locking it from the inside, looking in the darkness. She heard a growl and turned to see the wolf staring at her where it was crouched in the shadows. But it was weary and fell back asleep and she realized why as his form started to retreat, hair receded back and his ears shrunk and skin lightened. Fingers cracking and shrinking to proper size as claws became nails. She watched the wolf become a man. Filthy and tattered, claw marks gorged into the stone. She turned on a lantern she had placed down there the night before and went to him and kneeled. "Abberline…"
She whispered his name and touched his cheek. "Abberline…wake up Abberline…" A groan was her answer before the detective Abberline raised his head blinking to focus his adjusting eyes. Looking at himself he suddenly braced her arms in his grip looking up to her, sharp blue eyes panicked. "Did I…hurt anyone?" He shivered, "did I…kill…" He tried to get out what haunted him so. She smiled softly. "You nicked me a good round but you didn't bite me or kill anyone. I got you here and safely for both you and the people." A wave of relief passed through Abberline it was seen even physically. He touched her arm where he noticed the shirt was uneven and saw her wince. Before she could stop him Rhea found her shirt sleeve lifted and he caressed the bandage with tentative callused fingers.
Self disgust was what she saw. "I'm sorry…I-"She stopped him. "It's ok Abberline." She leaned resting her forehead against his and felt him lean she didn't stop him from resting his head against her chest hiding away. His grip was tight around her back where he held her and she let him. Fingers running in his dirty tussled hair, he breathed her in and found he could hear her heart beat like before. Taste the salt and sugar in her blood beneath the skin. Abberline shivered breathing her in and felt his heart pick up a little. His fingers ached as he fell into a stupor like daze slipping into the edges of her tunic the tips of his fingers caressed bare flesh and it was very soft. Swallowing a little he felt confused but touching her made that ache lessen. Looking up as her fingers glided in his hair he stared into her eyes. Breaking it to stand and let go.
Rhea blushed a bit when his fingers slipped into the edges of her tunic shirt she hadn't tucked it in and her belt was loose anyway. She didn't know why but she touched his arm taking the rag she had brought and cleaned his cut lip from earlier and the dirt. Watching what she was doing her didn't see Abberline's stare. He could hear her and her pulse, could see it on her neck as it moved. Yet the supple curve of his body near his got him to close his eyes for a moment, lips parting a little. Abberline held his breath opening them to gaze at her. He captured her wrist and she looked up as their eyes became locked. He could hear their hearts in his ears and they were matching. He leaned lips traced as he drew a breath. Could feel the heat on her skin as she blushed and heard her swallow as she was nervous but not moving away. They looked away breathing in as Gwen came in and spoke that the coast was clear and that a bath was drawn for Abberline. "I'll get you some new clothes." Rhea smiled and left after he got to the bathroom. Abberline closed the door and turned to rest his back against it shuddering.
Looking at his hands as they shook a little, he had imagined taking her lips and holding her close, to bite her neck and feel her. To hear her heart, breathing, pulse. He put his head into his hands shuddering at the feelings ripping through him. The senses, he could still smell her. He pulled at his clothes and tore them off tossing them into the fire before submerging himself in the hot water that didn't scold him as much as he though and scrubbed. Getting the London filth off him and to get Rhea off of him and thus his mind, addicted, laying back in the iron tub and closed his eyes. He gave up and let his mind go where it would…"Rhea…" he whispered and just let the warmth engulf him.