11. A Hungry Wolf

He was using it as a weapon. A really smart, effective, condescending weapon.

Wesker had all the knowledge in the world what the nickname meant to Sheva. She'd practically showed him the big gaping hole in her heart of how vulnerable she was to the affectionate pet name. But in his case, it wasn't in the slightest affectionate. He wanted something, he stated it first thing, but he was going to go for her weakest point to get what it was that he wanted. With how susceptible she was at the moment to him, Sheva feared he'd get whatever it was he came for.

Her fingers gripped the pillow that she had snatched on the bench she sat on. She nearly tore holes into the plush fabric with how anxious she was to have Wesker standing before her, his smirk hiding his true intentions. He cocked his head to the side, his brows showing just above his dark glasses as they rose and he nodded with encouragement. She realized it was her turn to speak.

"What's it going to cost me?" she instantly questioned. Most likely pain, she thought. Lots of pain.

This is when he chuckled, that intimidating chortle of a laugh tickling her nerves like heated air on cold skin. Goosebumps rose to high peaks on her arms as he put a hand on his chest, ending his little fit of laughter as the smirk that became to look more and more natural remained on his structured face. He stared at her, her eyes gaping at the black void of his shades. It was now more than ever that she realized why he kept those stupid glasses. It gave him the best advantage in the situation; devoid of all things emotion.

Her nerves tingled over her body, mixing with anger that he wasn't answering her question. So this is how he wanted to play. To string her tight until she submitted to his demands, to annoy her so much she'd voluntarily do what it was he wanted. But she had a tolerance for this man. If she didn't, then she wouldn't have been in the situation she was now or even alive. She could tolerate his little mind games until he was the one that snapped, and knowing Wesker and his short fuse, that could happen any minute.

"Did Christ fall to his knees and ask God what his fate was going to cost him?" the tall blond quizzed profoundly. "Was Madame Curie in the lab asking herself what her research was going to cost her? Does a soldier going to war ask his captain what it's all going to cost him?"

"Are you saying I'm going to be crucified, discover the next big thing in science, and fight a war?" she asked him, sarcasm dripping from her voice. To her surprise, he chuckled at her comment. She had assumed he'd fume and throw something that resembled a temper tantrum.

"I'm saying you have the chance to do something big and for you not to question it."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bench, she bowed her head to hide her expression. Wesker was freaking her out and she was confused beyond relief. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she had an idea what he wanted. Something he wanted when he captured her four years ago and something she happened to be born with. She didn't want to say it though. She wanted to hear it from his lips. To hear him beg her for it and she could claim superiority over the man once and for all. Not that superiority was particularly important to Sheva, but to put Wesker in his place was something she'd been trying to accomplish for way too long now.

She looked back up to him, one brow raising as she crossed her legs and beat her fingertips in rhythm on her knee. With a nod, she gave him a haughty smile.

"So, come out with Bertie. What do you want?"

His lip twitched, whether at the nickname or at the bossiness she showed, she wasn't sure. He was trying so hard to keep his irritation from showing that it made her want to explode in laughter. She watched as he held his breath and he grabbed for something in his back pocket, revealing a small black hard shell case with a shiny silver zipper. Sheva's teeth gritted as he unzipped it, opening it to show one perfect unused syringe.

"It's simple really," he started calmly as he freed the syringe of its velcro strap. "Just one sample of your blood and we'll be done with this."

No way Jose, was Sheva's first thought. Though she was expecting this, the cool shiver that went up her spine was not relieved with this knowledge. This was all déjà vu. She did this for him four years ago and couldn't do it again. Not with how differently he was acting and just how much more callous he had been towards her ever since he'd awoken.

"That's not happening," she told him sternly. "That doctor took samples of my blood and then my father got involved. You're not taking any blood from me, Bertie."

"Dr. Bollard didn't know what he was doing. I, however, do." He took a step towards her as he tossed the small case onto the bed while he raised the syringe to eye level and studied the needle trapped inside the plastic cap. "And Elliot Spencer is dead. No one will be in on this but me. So be a good girl and do as I say."

"You're not going to touch me. I'll kick you again and this time I'll make sure you can't have any more kids," she warned, realizing how pathetic that threat sounded.

With a groan, Wesker rolled his shoulders and took another step towards her, this time not stopping to hear her response. "You could have made this easy."

Sheva stood with a jolt, hoping to side step his approaching figure and run for the exit. But he was too quick, too prepared for her next move. Like a slithering snake, his arm was quick to grab hers, his grip tight around her bicep. She resisted with persistence, tugging her body back to release his grasp.

"Let go of me," she hissed, her hand catching his wrist to pry his clutch away. "You're going to regret it if you don't."

"And what are you going to do? Tattle to mommy and daddy? Oh, right, they're all dead. And you're all alone," he spoke with venom. "Just give me the bloody sample."

All anger and fight in her died for a moment. All the courage and strength seemed to disappear like a flame in the wind as his words sunk it. She went blank for a moment, her eyes staring into the black abyss of Wesker's shades. His words stung and her eyes watered, reminding her of the third date she had with Chris and he took her to a sushi bar in the city. She had tried Hamachi with too much wasabi, her eyes watered and her tongue burned of dry heat that made her entire face scorch. Wesker's cruel words felt just the way the physical pain did back then on that date with Chris. Wesker could have just ripped her heart out, that would have been just as effective as saying what he did.

But he was wrong. She wasn't alone. She had Chris, Isaac, and Claire. She had Josh and Jill. She had family and she wasn't alone. Wesker, however, was. Jake couldn't want to not be his son any more than he already did. Sheva had tried to be there for him but at these instants when he acted the way he did and said the things he did, she couldn't take it. It was those moments she knew why Wesker was alone and at those moments why he deserved to be alone.

Suddenly, all the anger and fight rose inside her like a building fire, burning in her veins as she saw her reflection in his glasses mirror her face turning into a sneer. He was a prick, Sheva thought, and he needed his ass kicked until he was the one tattling to mommy and daddy. And those stupid glasses. She couldn't take those things anymore. She just wanted…

With a quick spin of her toes, she brought her elbow up as she turned quickly and smashed her elbow into those stupid sunglasses. Relief similar to popping all the joints in your back filled her at the sound of his shades breaking and falling to the floor.

Not even taking the time to see if she had severely injured him with the attack, she crouched and swept her leg under his, kicking his feet and causing him to fall to the floor in a heap of surprise. She was quick to crawl on top of him, her hips on his with her feet locked on his thighs to keep him from moving. Her hands slammed on his shoulders and pushed him into the stone floor with outrage. When she raised her clenched fist above her head, she took the quickest second to look at his face to find a few shards of the glasses from his shades had caught on his skin, small pieces dug into his brow and the delicate skin under his eyes. Small blood spots and drips were mostly on his forehead, creasing into the lines of his angry face. Not wasting another second, she started hitting his chest with her fists, resembling an angry monkey on an abusive zookeeper.

"You're such an asshole!" she shouted in his face, hitting a fist on his chest after each sentence. "I shouldn't have helped Jake break you out! I should have let you two get caught! I don't have to put up with your bullshit and sure as hell don't have to endure your abuse. I have people who care about me, Wesker. You don't. Everyone wants you dead, except for me. But God! You treat me like crap and then I want to kill you myself! You're an asshole and a prick and a snot nose, know-it-all, son of a bitch!"

It didn't surprise her when suddenly she was the one on the ground and he was holding her down. What did surprise was that she was able to get all of that out without a fist to the face. And still, he didn't bother to hit her, but she was just as cautious to see him reach for the syringe that had fallen to the floor when he did. Her hand reached out, trying to get the needle away from him before he punctured her skin. They fought over the syringe as she tried to weasel out from underneath him. His knees were on her hips, keeping her locked to the floor as she tried sitting up to get the needle. She began to scratch at his skin with a vengeance when he finally growled and yelled so loud she felt all her bones turn to noodles and she fell to the floor in exhaustion, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Why didn't I kill you those years ago? Why did I put up with you? How did I put up with you?!" he shouted back at her. Biting the cap that protected the needle with his pearly teeth, he pulled the syringe free and held it in his hand to plunge in her arm. He stopped his movements when she replied to his initially rhetorical questions, making him halt with the emotion in her voice and the meaning of her words.

"Because you loved me. Or at least I thought you did. But no. You loved that stupid Kayla Muller and not me," she pouted and whined like a child that dropped their ice cream in the sandbox.

He froze with the impact of her words, feeling shaken with the miserableness hidden within every syllable. Her jealousy didn't sit well within his conscious, making him want to down a bottle of whiskey if alcohol still had any effect on his body. Then again, with his human like behavior and health lately, maybe the liquor could do something for all the annoyance surrounding him. Sheva's jealously reminded him of…Excella. Of all the things he had trouble remembering, he could remember her. He shivered at the reminder of the voluptuous Italian.

"You're jealousy is immature and unwanted," he mumbled as he went to grab her arm. She was faster than him in that second, her hand moving faster than his and her fist meeting his cheekbone. His head whipped to the side, feeling a trickle of blood slip down his cheek. A flurry of her palms began hitting his chest as she grunted with what sounded like little sobs.

Her hitting seemed to getting harder and rougher as she began to actually cry. An upside down smile played on her sad face as she hit him with determination, fighting tears that wanted to come down in a waterfall.

"I hate you!" she screeched. She slapped him and went back to pounding on his chest. Having enough of her tantrum, Wesker tried grabbing her arms and to finally get that sample he came for, but she shoved him and slapped him again, screaming again, "I hate you!"

The more she said those words of detestation, the faster his blood pumped and his skin heated. She punched his side again, the diamond on her engagement ring pricking his ribs. He could almost feel his skin heal of the small injuries and his eyes glow with anger at the reminder of her engagement to the imbecile, Redfield. When she punched him again, he could almost hear the diamond mocking him, leaving him unsettled that something as stupid as the engagement she had gotten herself into should mock him in such a way it did and how severely.

"Get off me!" she cried below him. "I want to go home. I want forget about you and everything in this godforsaken place. You forgot about me so I can forget you. Get off of me!"

In her bustle of words and the anger inside him, he blamed his primal impulses for doing what he did next. He grabbed the collar of her cotton tee shirt and pulled her up, throwing the syringe to the side and slipping his other hand into her hair. His lips smashed onto hers with a harsh kiss, her moan of surprise had him tangling his other hand into her hair as he pushed into her mouth with his tongue and danced with her own. He glided his legs off her hips and between her legs, pulling her up to sit on his lap while Sheva was still in a blissful surprise. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands explored her body with a mind with their own, his hand sneaking under her shirt to lay his palm flat on her back, sending shivers up her spine with tingling goodness.

He was persistent with her lips, nibbling them and kissing her almost violently. His lips and hands were going too fast for her to keep up. One minute he was here and then there, his lips traveling to her neck where he gave her little love bites. She couldn't be happier that he had kissed her, but he was like a hungry wolf that had gotten its first prey in years. This all felt good and unbelievable; just to have his body against hers again was ecstasy enough. But he was going too fast, too hungry for her appetite. She wanted him slowly and lovingly, not like some frenzied virgin about to get his first lay. And Wesker was no virgin, but Sheva couldn't handle him this urgent.

"Wesker, slow down," she gasped, his hand trailing up the side of her torso higher and higher to her chest. "Albert, seriously. Slow down. Please." His hand pressed against her breast and she nearly lost it, but she had to slow him down. "Albert!"

His excited body was deaf to her pleads. Her warm skin was like a cool drink of water after walking in the desert for days, her moans were like a symphony of beautiful music, and her lips were softer than soft and tasted sweetly like candy. The fabric covering her body was annoying him, keeping him from feeling her like he wanted. Without thinking, he grabbed the collar of her shirt and tore, revealing a lacy black bra. He growled possessively at the sight.

He was about to press his face into the plushness that was her bosom until a hand slapped him hard on the cheek, his ears ringing and hearing the faint sound of someone yelling. He blinked once, twice, and saw Sheva cover her chest with her hands and the torn shirt, crawling off him with a pissed off look on her face.

"I told you to slow down! Sheesh," she swept her messy hair away and focused on her heartbeat. She bunched the fabric of her torn shirt and covered her chest, looking at him for an explanation to find he looked more confused than he ever had. Realization spread across his face, coming to his senses with what he'd just done, let alone initiated. In a flash, he stood and straightened himself out, glancing at her still sitting on the floor. He snatched a small blanket at the end of her bed and gave it to her without meeting her eyes as he took deep breathes.

"Thanks," Sheva murmured, pulling the blanket to her chest and covering herself even more. She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples and sighed. When she opened her eyes, he was gone, the door left open in his wake. She sat silently for a small while, replaying the whole situation in her mind. She couldn't keep herself from grinning at the thought that he'd kissed her. She giggled at the thought, covering her face with her hands. A frown spread across her features when she felt the silver band of her ring press into her eyelid.

Like a virus, guilt hit her with a vengeance, plaguing her mind with a purpose. She knew she had been unfaithful for some time now, considering she not only had kissed Wesker a few days ago but also she'd held a lot of secrets about herself from Chris. And she was adding more onto the heap of disloyalty every day. What if he found her? What if he found out her secrets like being a Spencer or loving Wesker? She didn't love Wesker more than him. Did she?

Sheva grumbled with annoyance at herself, not sure who she loved more. Couldn't she love them equally? They were very opposite people, but they still held just as much space in her heart as the other. But didn't she love them differently? Wesker was an unforbidden love, a dangerous one. And Chris was the safe one, the love she could rely on and could know was true. But did that mean she loved Chris more than Wesker or vice versa?

She covered her head with the blanket, reveling in how she could get herself in such situations and such self-destructive mindsets. She had a knack in self-destruction, she admitted. She also had knack for really screwing herself over, too.

She knew Chris was out there looking for her. He had been when Wesker kidnapped her four years ago and most likely now that she had disappeared. But she feared that he'd find much more than just her hideout. Sheva was afraid he'd finally learn why Wesker took her in the first place, why she went with Jake, and why she kept it all from him. And Sheva knew he wouldn't like what he discovered.

With a hard slam of the phone on the hook, Alyssa sighed with a heavy breath, her hands shaking as they went to comb her hair smooth. HQ had given her yet another scolding that Sheva Alomar or Albert Wesker had yet to be found. They'd lectured her with their high titles and big words, basically threatening her if she did not make progress soon, there'd be repercussions. It was no surprise that they'd be all over her, demanding answers and tossing her deadlines.

Alyssa had always been good about getting things done quick and clean. After years in journalism, she'd applied for the anti-bioterrorist company and was hired as an investigator, working up until she became the representative of the North American branch. It was a tough job, but years in the field as a journalist and writer had prepared her for the vicious world of politics and bio organic weapons.

She thought that Raccoon City was what she would be known for, but now that she was working on a case that involved the Albert Wesker—Raccoon City was a fraction of notoriety compared to the ex-Umbrella employee.

For the last few days, Chris had been on a break from all of the research. Alyssa had personally told him to take a few days after he'd been a little out of it. He obviously wasn't sleeping and as more days passed that neither missing persons had been found, the more anxious and unstable he seemed to be. But knowing the reputation that was almost as big as Chris was physically, he'd get back on his feet after a small while and be good as new. At least, that's just what Alyssa was hoping.

She was running out of excuses to tell HQ and leads to find Alomar. Her file revealed nothing. Alyssa had looked all through Sheva's history, from childbirth to her life today, and nothing came up that raised Alyssa's curiosity or answered any of her questions. What was it exactly that attracted Wesker to kidnapping her in the first place?

There were a few options left. She could interview Josh Stone—interrogate the man closest to Sheva before the Kijuju incident until she found something helpful. But an interview with the BSAA Captain had already been conducted and it was a very major doubt that he'd be able to tell her anything new that could help.

She could go with the idea that Wesker took Sheva purely because it would hurt Chris. But that possibility did not sit well with Alyssa. Fine, Wesker wanted revenge so he took Sheva, but where would he and Sheva be? Why had he taken Sheva to the Spencer estate those four years ago? Why did Wesker let her go? No, that possibility was not an option. Alyssa knew that it was something much more than just hatred for Chris that Wesker took Sheva. There just had to be some tangible reason that she was missing.

And lastly, she could just wait to hear back from the investigation team that was researching in Australia. There were four Spencer estates in total on this planet. The one the blew up in the Midwest in 1998, one that Elliot Spencer had been hiding out in for many years and where they found Sheva Alomar and Albert Wesker the first time. There was the one in Germany where Wesker had been spotted nearly two years before the Kijuju incident, and the last one that had yet to be investigated until now in Australia. Alyssa wasn't positive as to why the Australian mansion hadn't been searched, but the BSAA was sometimes slow to get around to these types of things. That much Alyssa knew.

The Spencer mansion was being investigated by a team of the BSAA sent by Alyssa herself. She hadn't heard word yet of how the search was going, but she wasn't expecting much. The English mansion hadn't been much to learn from. It appeared that Wesker had burned anything of importance before he was arrested. The German mansion was just a big ball of nothing helpful. Everything there was outdated and only held information that they already knew. The one in the Midwest was blown up; nothing could be recovered from that. So Alyssa's last hope was the estate in Australia, the forgotten home of the Spencer's.

It was any day now that she would be getting the results and reports of the investigation, and though her hopes were low, Alyssa was still holding out that maybe—just maybe—they might come up with something. Something to put them on the right direction in finding Alomar and Wesker. Something to get HQ off her back.

But until then, she had to be patient. She needed Chris to get it together so that if there was something in those results that proved to be helpful, he could help her get closer and closer to finding their missing persons.

Author's Note: I hope Sheva's outburst is justifiable. I think it was overdue, really. And Alyssa will have some major results on those reports. The Australian mansion is where Piper was, so maybe this will lead us to learning Piper's true intentions. Oh, the mystery… Though, I think we all know what Piper's up to… ;)

Sasusakui: Wesker is starting to scare me too. Cut it out, Bertie. Wesker is totally that swaying cobra! Dude is scary as eff. Chris is a grown man. Sheva is our leading lady so we must pay attention to her. :)
Auktober: Thank you for saying so about the Flynn chapter. I was just not so happy with it, but that's gonna happen. I can't wait to actually dig into Flynn's character more and reveal his true colors. Bingo! You were right; Wesker wanted the bloody goodness. I kid. :) Oh, and I understand about burning out. You're always so good about leaving reviews that I don't know how you do it! Thank you. :)
littlevamp: Butt-kissing is what Wesker is good at. :) Or maybe that's butt-kicking… Sheva needs to put him in time-out, haha. Thank you! :)
Ultimolu: I literary laughed out loud at your review! Aim for the balls, Sheva! She's totally got that down, haha. :)
Pandora's Eye: Thank you! Wesker's gonna have to deal with these feelings for Sheva and come to terms that he likes to call her Little Bird. :)
Comix777: Jake and Sherry, k-i-s-s-i-n-g… I can totally see Wesker strutting down the street ignoring his haters. Like a true badass. He'd probably be blowing them all kisses. :)
Sheva Redfield: It's ok, you don't need to apologize! You weren't late in slightest and I appreciate you taking the time to write a review. I thought you'd like the Jake and Sherry affection. :) D'aw, poor Chris, the mopey mountain of muscles. We'll get to him soon! Take care, dear. :)
Lollipop Lolli: I will definitely check out the two artists you recommended and let you know how I liked them, thanks! I'm super happy that you like Matt Corby, he's so good! :) I'm glad you like the chapters and I hope everything is going very well for you. :)

On a sentimental note, today (1/16) marks the day that I've been writing on here for a year. Yay! Here I am, still geeking out over Resident Evil and writing fan fiction. I'm not someone who let's myself know what I'm feeling often, but I've been going through a lot of anxiety and stress lately and writing has become that outlet for me, and everyone's nice comments and encouragement is always something I appreciate and take dearly. Thank you millions for geeking out with me!

-Sarai