Disclaimer: Wolf Lake is owned by CBS, UPN, and others who are not me, so don't sue.
Author Note: This story takes place roughly twelve years after Unexpected Loss, and continues the story of my OC, Rhett Koria. I know I'm jumping around age wise, but this was just the next story my brain came up with to tell. shrugs I will be going back and filling in the gaps eventually, but as I said, this is the next plot-bunny in line.
The Lone Wolfen Chronicles: The Consultant.
Prologue
Rhett Koria climbed out of his bed, a loud yawn escaping him as he did so. He couldn't believe he was already late for work. He went into his bathroom, showered, and was out before his girlfriend of the last several months awoke. The fact that she did not stir surprised him, and he worried that perhaps he had allowed his wolf to guide too much of what had happened between them during the night. However, all thoughts that he might have hurt her vanished a few minutes later when her eyes slowly fluttered open, much to his relief.
"Leaving already?" His human girlfriend, Melody Mcdonald, inquired, sleepily.
"Unfortunately," Rhett answered.
Propping herself up on her elbow, Melody sniffed the air, although not as a skinwalker would have. "I don't smell coffee," she groaned.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I woke up and was already late," he apologized.
She sat up in bed, running a hand through her short, blond hair. "I guess I'll have to let you off the hook this time, seeing as how I'm the reason you over slept," she said, smirking.
Rhett moved to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Melody firmly. "I always knew you were trouble, McDonald," he joked as he pulled away again.
She chuckled, her head shaking. "So," she began, tentatively. "What exactly is on the agenda for today, Mr. consultant?" She tried to make her question sound as casual as possible.
"Melody," he sighed, tiredly.
"This is ridiculous! We're seeing each other, Rhett. And as of last night, we're sleeping together, and you still won't open up," she shot back, exasperated.
"You could just give it time," Rhett suggested as he finished dressing.
"I'm a journalism student, remember? You knew what you were getting into with me from the start," Melody pointed out.
"You don't understand the stakes," he said by way of an explanation.
"For who? You?"
"For both of us," he elaborated. "Look, I'm late and getting later by the minute. I have to go, but I'll call you this afternoon," he said, already heading for the door.
Chapter 1
Jarred Sleper stood next to his black S.U.V on a darkened Los Angeles' street, his mind on business. He was a drug dealer, and business had been booming of late. Usually, he didn't count his money in public, even at one in the morning, but the police had been totally unable to touch him. There were rumors circulating that the L.A.P.D had formed yet another new task force to deal with major crimes, but he was unconcerned.
This supposed new task force was in the worst traditions of the less than ethical L.A police department, or so people said. They were meant to go after drug dealers and other major criminal enterprises as hard as they could. Also, there was word that this bunch of cops worked with a mystery man, a man who was hired as a "consultant" to the L.A.P.D. This "consultant" wasn't a cop, but something else, if you believed the rumors.
Jarred opened his silver, metal briefcase, admiring all the money inside. He had made close to three hundred thousand dollars this week alone. It was indeed good to be Jarred Sleper, he thought to himself. With a click, he closed his briefcase and turned to climb into his S.U.V. However, something in the back of his mind warned him of danger and he paused.
Rhett Koria stalked his prey, his eyes flashing gold as he drew nearer to his target. A lifetime of practice had made the art of moving in the shadows second nature to him. He watched as Jarred Sleper counted the proceeds from his drug business, his eyes locked on the silver case on the hood of Sleper's S.U.V. He lived for times like this, times when he could let his true nature guide him. Before he realized it, he found himself directly behind the drug dealer. His mouth watered, and he had to fight the urge to let his jaw elongate into its wolf form.
Jarred Sleper gazed right to left, not noting anything out of the ordinary on the dark street. It was then that he realized someone was behind him, but how had they gotten there? He spun around, one hand reaching inside his leather jacket to retrieve his gun.
Rhett seized Jarred by the throat with one hand, a vicious smile on his face. He tightened his grip until the dealer's hand slid out from his jacket, no weapon in its grip. With the ease that came from having Wolfen strength, Rhett tossed Jarred Sleper into the side of the nearest building, an abandoned factory. The dazed Sleper landed hard on the ground, his breathing ragged. Rhett stalked the fallen dealer, picking him up with one hand when he reached him. Once again relying on his Wolfen strength, he threw Sleper through a cracked window and into the broken down building.
Rhett Koria let out a long sigh as he stretched his neck. Another night's work was done in his role as a consultant to the Los Angeles police department, and he was pleased. His deal with the L.A.P.D was simple, and just to his liking. He hit dealers and other scum for the cops, and got to keep whatever cash, cars, and other toys he wanted as payment. It was a good life, even if it wasn't the one he desired most. None of his superiors or coworkers knew how the scrawny "consultant" managed to rip-off such high powered and dangerous people and not get killed in the process, but so long as he made a dent in the underworld, they didn't care. He hit criminals where it hurt most, in their wallets.
Feeling no need to rush, Rhett calmly picked up Jarred's silver briefcase, smiling at the thought of the money he had "earned." Briefcase in hand, he found his way inside the factory to where Jarred Sleper lay, unconscious from their encounter. Rummaging through the dealer's pockets, he quickly found the keys to the black S.U.V parked outside. Just for good measure, he also took Sleper's cell phone. Maybe he'd keep it, or, perhaps, he'd give it to an informant as payment for information. Either way, it was better than leaving it with the drug dealer.
Once outside again, Rhett settled into "his" new S.U.V and drove off. He had to report to his superiors about another successful takedown, and then it would be back to his apartment to rest. Maintaining his secret was at best difficult, and at worst damn near impossible. He had stacks of forged documents to cover his tracks and his religious beliefs to ward off most medical inquiries, but it was such a chore.
Arriving back at the major crimes war room, as he called it, Rhett found his coworkers engaged as they often were when not working on a case. They were all about his age, and all they shared one thing in common, an intense curiosity about him. They called him "boss" because no one could figure out what he did, and he never seemed to be working while around them- just like a typical boss, they joked.
"Welcome back, boss," Jenna Reese greeted, politely. "Busy night?" She inquired, a single blond eyebrow quirked.
Jenna was an attractive woman of twenty six with long blond hair and blue eyes. Of all his coworkers, Rhett considered her to be the most skilled. "Not overly so," he replied simply.
"So, what's with the case?" Tim Metzger, another member of the team, asked, his eyes locked onto the metal briefcase Rhett was carrying.
"Oh, this?" Rhett raised the case a bit. "Call it the spoils of war," he answered, cryptically.
His response caused a few raised eyebrows from those assembled, but he was up the stairs that lead to his office before more could be made of it. As they watched him go, the gathered members of the major crimes task force were left with still more questions about their mysterious "boss."
Upstairs in his office, Rhett was suddenly assailed by concerns. He had never been as bold as he had been tonight. Usually, he hit his targets hard and fast, not allowing them time to fully process what was happening, but tonight...? Still, how bad could it be? Even if Jarred Sleper said something, would anyone believe him? Would people believe that the six foot, hundred and ninety pound Sleper was overpowered by someone who weighed one twenty soaking wet with rocks in his pockets? And would the drug dealer ever want to admit that someone so scrawny took him for three hundred grand? Not likely, Rhett decided.
Twenty minutes later, Rhett completed the report on his takedown of Jarred Sleper. After e-mailing the report to his boss, he packed up his things to leave- his recently acquired three hundred thousand dollars being the most important of those things. He was just about to flick off his computer when he realized he had an unread e-mail. Against his better judgment, he collapsed back down into his chair and opened his mailbox. The one letter was titled simply "kill or capture," and was more than enough to wake the tired Wolfen up. The sender was his inside source for all the news from back home, his link to Wolf Lake. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Rhett gazed with interest down at the one sentence letter on the screen.
Ruby has vanished again, and a kill or capture order has been issued.
Sophia.
TBC.
Next chapter will deal with the issue of why Rhett is in L.A, and how he managed to get away from Wolf Lake.