Wow! I'm so excited to get so many reviews in quick succession! Thanks to Ande, Incarnated-Soul, and Alanna 99 for their reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Not the best Chapter I've ever written, but I didn't quite know what to do with it. Reviews would be nice. I like getting my fix of reviews everyday. So if you want me to write better and faster, reviewing might be the best way to make that happen!

Chapter 16

He jogged past the Carlyle homestead and headed to the end of the subdivision. Then he took a left and the ashpalt became gravel beneath his feet. It crunched audibly like tiny gunshots in his ears. The black car didn't follow him--at least not right away. It continued in a straight path, rumbling off into the distance. But the detective would be back. Doug almost felt sorry for Tross at the moment. The hawk-eyed man thought he was being really sneaky, but he was about to get the surprise of his life.

About three minutes later, Doug noted the sound of spitting gravel. The detective was driving up the road at his back. It was a good thing too, because he was almost to the meeting place. He could sense something buzzing around him suddenly, like a presence. It didn't feel like just anyones' presence either. It was Leigh. It confused him that he was able to feel her like that. It must have been an after effect of the bite.

As much as he had abhorred being bitten before...it didn't really deter him from wanting it to happen again. Something about it had been so amazing, so effervescent... He gave up on looking for the right word. There wasn't one in existence that could have described what he felt that night. He only knew that it had been like a drug. It made him want more.

Doug pushed the thought from his mind and strove on. The car was inching along at a mouse's pace behind him. He was only a dozen yards from the spot where Leigh's consciousness was radiating softly ahead. There was a small thicket and Doug thought he caught the sight of a single blue eye, blinking in the early evening.

Doug pulled to a stop. He let in a long, shuddering breath. The blood pumped through his veins at a thunderous rate and his heart beat like a drum. He used this moment to gather his energy and turned to face the oncoming car. He moved to the center of the gravel lane and faced the black Corvette.

Doug never would have attempted to stand in the way of a speeding car, but the detective was far from speeding. In fact, the sleek black Corvette was slowing to a smooth halt just feet in front of him. The tinted black driver's window rolled down smoothly. A face displaying hawk-like features leaned out of the window, assuming an irritable expression.

"Don't you know better than to get in the way of a moving car?"

Doug ignored the comment, panting slightly. "Following me, detective?"

The detective looked as though he were about to deny it, but then changed his mind. With a low chuckle, he shut off the engine. He clambered from the car, shutting the door behind him. He had a long and loping gait--very human in its sloppiness. His every movement displayed the weakness that prey would show. Doug felt horror growing in him as the thoughts were processing in his mind. It must have been the last of the 'wolf serum that was still running about in his veins that made him think of the detective along the lines of food. He felt a small twinge of guilt anyway.

"As a matter of fact, I was," Tross replied. He leaned against the hood of his car. "There are actually some questions I would like to ask you."

Doug smirked, hoping to psych out the detective. "Then why didn't you ask me earlier," he asked, folding his arms across his chest, "when you were on surveying my house."

The detective made a sound that was almost a growl. The irriation in his features wasn't hard to detect. Obviously Tross didn't like being bested. Especially by someone he considered to be of lower class. Doug could see it in his eyes. The detective thought him to be street trash--a guy who spends all his time getting drunk and wasting time loitering. Of course, Doug had only served to help in pushing this oppinion along with his charade the other night.

"Where's that girlfriend of yours?" The detective inquired, changing tactics.

"Keep away from her," Doug snarled. He was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. "I saw the way you were looking at her."

The detective laughed outright, slapping his hands on his beer-belly. "Son, you have no right interfering with police business," the detective replied with obvious disdain. "Leigh and I have business together and there's nothing you, or anyone else can do about it."

Tross' hand hung limply at his side, only a hair's bredth away from the gun in it's holster about his waist. There was a beady look in the detective's eye and his fingers began to stretch in anticipation. Yep, Doug decided, in the detective's eyes he was worse than street trash. In fact, he thought Doug stupid enough to start a fist fight with a police officer.

Doug would only do this if the situation warranted it. And right now, it didn't.

"Firstly," Doug began, folding his arms across his gray tee-shirt, damp from sweat. "Don't call me son."

"You'll not be making the orders around here!" The detective replied irritably.

"Secondly," Doug continued, ignoring the detective's outburst. "We do have something to discuss. That is why I have brought you here."

Doug could swear he saw the detective shudder just then. Good, he was starting to see where the power really lay. Just who exactly was in charge of this little meeting.

"You didn't bring me here," the detective continued stubbornly, his hand moved to rest directly on the holster. He looked Doug straight in the face with his hawkish eyes.

"No?" Doug raised his eyebrows. "Then tell me, detective. How did I know you were surveying my house? How did I know that if I jogged down here you would follow?"

The detective had no answer for that. He straightened, moving his bulk off of the car so as to better move if the situation warranted. His thin legs were quick under his round belly. But not quick enough, Doug noted. He still had the upperhand by a large margin.

"Not that I'm going to comply, but what do you want?"

Doug lifted a hand, displaying two fingers. "Two things," he replied. "A, I want to destroy all information you have on Leigh's past drug abuse."

The detective burst out laughing at this. Doug didn't flinch. He waited for the laughter to die before he continued.

"And B," he stared the detective down, "I want you to get your nose out of our business. Stop following the case or you're going to regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" Tross almost hissed. "A police officer? I could have you arrested for this!"

Doug moved a step closer to prove that he was not intimidated by the man. "How are you going to prove it?" Doug spoke, nearly taunting. The more sure he was of himself, the more Tross would begin to worry. "It's your word against mine in court. And I have some friends in pretty high places."

"What, like your druggie friends?" Tross smirked. "Why don't you give me a good reason why I should drop this case? If I solve this case, it could be my next big promotion."

"You want a good reason?" Doug replied. "I'll give you one. You wouldn't be able to handle the truth if you ever found out what it was. Just drop the case. My dad died and for good reason. Yes, I loved him, but it was his time to die--before he hurt anyone else."

"You know what really happened," the detective's eyes glinted. "You know who killed Mr. Vince."

"I know a lot of things," Doug replied darkly. "And one of them is that you are way over your head. I am far more powerful than you can ever imagine. And if you keep this case up, it will be my duty to kill you."

Tross was now gripping the handle to his gun and glaring at Doug menacingly.

"Powerful? You? You're just a junkie who's wasted his life away. A twenty-four-year-old teenager who doesn't know the meaning of the word powerful."

Doug laughed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You couldn't get away with my death," Tross slid the revolver out, letting it hang in his hand. He specifically held it so that Doug could get a good glance. The thing he didn't know was that Doug could have wrested it from his grip before he could move a finger. "You would be in jail for the rest of your life."

"Only if I killed you myself," he replied. "But how about if I got the animals of the forest to do the job for me? Then they would just call it a wild animal attack."

Doug noticed a rustle in the tall grass at this comment. Leigh was getting ready.

Tross shook his head disbelievingly, "You're insane!" He accused. "I always thought there was something wrong with you and now I know what it is! You're totally and completely insane!"

I low growl rustled through the grass and sped toward their ears. Doug noticed the detective flinch at this. He tried to take a glance to the left without taking his eyes off Doug. He wasn't quite managing it. Doug wasn't quite so restricted. He turned his head to watch as Leigh slunk out of the grass, her fangs flashing white. He could hear everything the detective was doing and react accordingly.

"Just like this," Doug said, a small smile playing along his lips. "I can call the wolves to do what I want."

"A fluke." Doug could hear the shudder in the other man's voice.

"You think?" Doug replied. "How about if I give her a command?"

"Lift your paw," he suggested.

The wolf let out a snort. A deep blue eye looked out at him with intelligence. That was the first time Doug ever saw a 'wolf roll it's eyes. The same obviously went for the detective as well. Doug could see him get a big case of the willies out of the corner of his eyes. Slowly, Leigh lifted a paw. Tross' eyes positively bugged.

"Bite him in the nuts," Doug continued calmly, as though he were talking about the weather.

Leigh looked as though she were glad to comply. She growled loudly, baring her teeth and ran for him.

A shot rang out loudly. Leigh fell to the ground, wincing sharply. Doug cringed. He had to remind himself that this was all part of the plan. Leigh knew that she would probably get shot and she'd agreed to it. If he didn't have to act so dang calm and complacent he would have run to her.

Slowly, the gray wolf stepped to her feet, bearing a wide gaping wound in her chest. Blood dripped down her fur. The wound closed up within seconds, displaying pink flesh. The fur grew over the skin, hiding it from sight. It was as though it had never been there in the first place.

The detective's hands were shaking as he attempted to pull the trigger again. Darn him, but he couldn't just stand here while Tross took another shot at Leigh. He turned smoothly and kicked the gun from the trembling fingers. The revolver bounced once and skittered across the gravel to rest against the wheel of the Corvette.

"As you can see," Doug said loudly, to catch the detective's attention. The detective seem more preoccupied with Leigh and finding his gun at the moment. "Bullets won't hurt my animals. I have the power to heal them."

Doug caught the back of the policeman's jacket as he lunged for the gun. He pulled him backward roughly and turned the man to face him. The detective's eyes were wild with fear. He shook him for effect.

"Now I don't want to kill you," he hissed, "but I will if I have to."

Tross was stuttering incoherently but Doug had the feeling that his mind was all there.

"Do we have a deal?" Doug asked, gripping the front of the man's jacket tightly.

Before the detective had the chance to respond, and angry shout echoed down the road and through the trees.

"Traitor! You were on their side all along! I'm gonna kill you, you werewolf lover!"

Doug glanced up to see Grady striding toward them, holding a bulging object in his hand. On his face was a look of pure and unchecked hatred.

Doug's eyes widened. He swore on a breath of air. He hadn't heard him coming! In fact, he hadn't noticed Grady following him at all. He had been too preoccuppied with Leigh and the detective. It was inexcusable. He knew better than to focus his attention.

He swore again. He was going to have to kill Grady. And even that probably wouldn't be enough to keep his secret hidden. The whole hunting world would know that he, Douglas Vince, was a 'wolf lover.