Mackenzie drove the majority of the way on the return trip as Roman slept like the dead during the day in the passenger seat only to feel restless during the night, like something primal was burning away in his blood. He had a new found dislike for being confined in enclosed spaces, wanting the ability to roam far and wide whenever it pleased him. He knew it wasn't normal but at the same time couldn't entirely control it either. When they pulled over at a roadside diner his appetite was absolutely voracious, eating about three times what he normally would have.

It was late in the afternoon when they got back to the city and did the rounds of dropping their friends off at home. Dean couldn't help but notice the slightly off, rather possessive way Roman all but glared at him when he gave Mack their customary parting hug. He wondered what it was all about, Reigns had never had a problem with it before so it seemed strange that something like that would start now. He tried to put it out of his mind, the man had been through something that had damn near killed him and it was Mack who had pretty much saved his life. He guessed it was only natural to go through a few personality changes afterwards. Ambrose decided to let it slide, at least for now. He couldn't say he wouldn't do something similar under the same circumstances, but he'd be keeping an eye on the weird, guarded attitude Reigns was starting to show around her. She was his family just as he was hers, and he'd be damned if he'd allow Mack to get dragged back into some abusive, manipulative life like the ones they helped each other get out of as they fled Cincinnati when they were barely out of their teens.

When the SUV finally pulled into the garage all Mack wanted to do was have a shower and pass out after spending the day behind the wheel, Roman having been asleep almost the entire time. It was something she couldn't help but worry over, along with the shift in his attitude, ravenous appetite and ridiculous healing his body had done. There was next to nothing marking his shoulder now, it was like the incident never even happened. She wasn't even sure what the details were as he had stalwartly refused to discuss any of it. She hoped it would be something he'd eventually come to terms with and open up about, understanding that everyone dealt with trauma differently and this was probably just Roman going through it his own way.

Vanilla and cinnamon; he could smell the shower gel from the other end of the house even though the bathroom door was closed. It felt extraordinary to have such heightened senses, even if it was a little overwhelming to have such sensory input. The noise was becoming a bit much however, there was so much going on that he could hear. He pinched the bridge of his nose as it was starting to give him a headache.

"How do you put up with it?" he idly asked Loki, who's response was to simply wag his tail.

As the evening rolled in Roman ran into that strange sensation of restlessness again. He wanted to do something, needed to move, not sit here and watch TV like nothing had happened. He looked next to him and studied Mack's sleeping form curled up on the rest of the couch, one arm dangling over the edge and fingers buried into the dog's soft fur around his neck, while he idly drummed fingers against the low armrest. That dominant, near carnal urge reared its head again, barely kept in check by his conscience. She was exhausted, having not had a decent night sleep for the past two days compounded with driving the entire way home. It wouldn't be right to wake her up now simply so he could get his rocks off.

She smelled so good though, it was making him hungry in more ways than one.

Get a damn grip on yourself, came the mental reprimand, you're not a hormonal sixteen year old who'll fuck anything with tits and a pulse. Roman made up his mind, he had to get out of the house for a while. Maybe a long walk would help get some of it out of his system. Silently he slipped out the door and stalked off into the night.

It was a little quieter than it had been, most of the neighbourhood calling it a night as only a few lights from inside houses peeked through into the darkness. He could catch fragments of conversations of some of the more night owl like neighbours. The young guys across the road calling out sporadic commands while playing an online video game of some description. Further down the road an elderly man was watching a documentary and occasionally yelled at his television. Across the street from him was a newly married couple in the throes of something rather... amorous. It called to that possessive urge to simply turn around and do the exact same thing with Mackenzie. Taste her skin and make her writhe until she begged. To lay claim and dominate his mate.

Mine.

A bestial snarl rumbled low in the back of his throat.

Instead he shook himself and picked up the pace, his casual ambling turning into a brisk march, then a mild jog before exploding into a full on sprint. Streets led the way to a large park, almost as if the city had given way to the wilds itself. Huge wooded areas, small lakes and large ponds, huge stretches of open grassy areas all with meandering paths connecting it all. He could smell the damp earth and the small creatures that called the park home, the fading scents of people who had been there during the day and the ones lurking in the shadows still. His eyes could see everything as though it was the middle of the day and not illuminated by struggling moonlight trying to cut through the clouds overhead. The animal inside was clawing frantically in its need to roam and hunt, finally forcing the man into submission and took control.

There was a begging cry followed by malicious laughter and taunts that was carried to him on the night wind. He stalked silently through the old oaks, willows and evergreens, hardened nails scoring the resilient bark as though they were claws. Leaping on top of a large rocky outcrop he surveyed the scene below; three men had another cornered, the fourth on his knees with bound hands held up in a show of surrender.

"Please, man, I can get it all back! The cash, the product, everything!" he begged, "I just need a little more time!"

"Time's up, Danny Boy," the leader of the three sneered as they all closed in on him, "You had your chance for redemption but you blew it. You know what the boss expects now."

Fear and a call for violence as the intended victim continued with futile pleas for mercy hung heavy in the air like a drug, Roman's muscles bunching and tensing as his blood sang in anticipation. The moment was drawing close. An ominous growl hung in the air, causing the criminals to stop in their tracks and look around for the source but the area they had chosen was dark and secluded for a reason, something that now was turning into a double edged sword. While they would be harder to find so too was any threat to their well being. Unwittingly they edged closer and closer to the rocks and the noise sounded again, causing one of them to finally look up.

He didn't even get a chance to scream.

Mackenzie woke up to find herself in bed lying half on top of a broad, firm chest that was throwing off heat like a radiator and a large arm wrapped loosely around her. She must have been even more tired than she had originally thought if Roman had managed not to wake her up getting her from the couch to the bed. She stretched a little, the action causing Roman's hold to tighten ever so slightly. Lifting her head she found that he wasn't asleep, grey eyes hooded as he watched her.

"Good morning," he said quietly, "Sleep well?"

She simply nodded in answer with a sleepy half smile. He seemed a little more his usual self this morning, there wasn't that restless energy that appeared to have been driving him the past couple of days and she wondered what had changed. Perhaps it was just being once more in familiar surroundings that had finally allowed him to calm down and relax.

"You hungry?" she asked and he nodded.

She went to move only to have his grip tighten even more, refusing to allow Mack to get up. She eyed him quizzically only to find her unspoken question answered with a stare so wickedly wanton that it sent a bolt through her, its energy nestling in her belly with tingling anticipation. It wasn't exactly the sort of hungry she meant but once he shifted Roman sent any coherent thought out of the window with the same sort of possessive, consuming kiss that had branded her with the morning after his attack. With no interruptions this time he pressed his advantage placing soft bites along her neck, feeling the fluttering pulse that was just underneath the skin. His growing sense of satisfaction as she all but melted against him stalled when the ring tone of her phone disrupted the moment.

"Leave it," he said, catching her wrist as she reached for the cell and pinned it to the mattress.

It was hard to argue with him when he seemed to be intent on tasting every inch of exposed skin. The call rang out and his hold around her arm loosened then released altogether, her fingers threading themselves in the thick black mass of his hair. She felt something foreign wrapped within the silky jet mane and was a little confused when she untangled a crunchy dead leaf. How in the world had that gotten there?

Again the phone rang and Roman growled his annoyance. She had different tones for certain people, the one insisting on ruining the mood at the moment telling him it was Ambrose.

"He's just going to keep calling until I answer it, especially this early in the morning."

With a snort of irritation Roman knew she was right. Dean didn't make a habit of calling so early, so whatever the man wanted he considered seemingly important. With obvious irritation he allowed her to answer it, her uncertain glance at his displeasure not going unnoticed.

"This better be good, Dean."

"Turn on the TV," he replied in way of greeting, "Channel five."

There was something in his tone that told her this wasn't something to be joked about, so picking up a nearby remote Mack pushed the power button and the small TV sitting on top of the dresser came to life.

A well dressed reporter was standing a respectable distance from a small area under the shaded protection of a few huge Dawn Redwoods and a couple of smaller deciduous trees that was cordoned off with police tape guarded by several uniformed officers. It would have looked like peaceful and pleasant little area, but that idea was completely destroyed by the large amounts of dark crimson that was washed over the rocks, trees and earth. Several people dressed in dark jackets with the initials CSU printed on the back in large, bright yellow letters looked busy as they tagged and bagged anything that looked remotely like evidence. A body bag was loaded onto a gurney and wheeled into a waiting van to be taken back to the medical examiner. As they were zipping up the last of the victims there was the briefest glimpse of savaged, sallow skin. The deep wounds that had torn open the flesh the work of something very large and extremely powerful.

"You don't think," Dean started, his voice carrying a note of hesitancy, "That whatever tried to do Roman in followed us home, do you?"

That was something she really didn't want to think about. How would it even have gotten here to begin with? The reporter was saying something about an animal attack but it didn't seem plausible, a dog no matter how large wouldn't have been able to do that sort of damage, especially considering three of the four victims were armed and could have easily shot it, and anything like a bear or bob cat was unheard of. It was the middle of the city, not some endless stretch of remote woodland.

Roman stayed quiet as he listened to both sides of the conversation and wondered if it was indeed true that the beast that had attacked him had followed them home. Somehow he doubted it, he didn't know why but there was a gut feeling that he would somehow know, like it would be encroaching on his patch. He began trying to recall what he did last night. He remembered them coming home, Mack falling asleep on the couch and then he went for a walk but events after that was like sand running through his fingers; confused glimpses and primal urges but nothing more. It was frustrating, he didn't like the idea of not being able to remember where he had been or what he had done.

As Mackenzie continued talking to Ambrose, Roman decided to get up and head for the shower since it was clear that the moment had slipped by. He pulled off the shirt he was wearing and opened the lid of the hamper when he noticed the leg of the jeans he had been wearing yesterday sitting on top of the rest of the dirty laundry. It was stained with something but he didn't remember doing anything that would have done it. Pulling the soiled clothing out of the basket the faint smell of blood and dirt wafted to him and he was suddenly hit with full recollection of memories that had only minutes a go been so fleetingly vague.

It was him. He was the one that had killed those people.

Quickly he stuffed the pants back into the hamper and closed the lid, taking the whole thing into the laundry and immediately began the washing machine, dumping as many stain removal products into the load as he could find. He knew he'd have to get rid of them soon but for now this was the best option he had available. After starting the cycle he stared down at his hands; while they were clean and free of any evidence now he couldn't help but imagine the blood that had covered them not so long a go. The strangest and what should have been the most unnerving was he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it at all. He had murdered four people and he just didn't give a damn, at the most he felt as if he had been dealing with threatening trespassers on what some primeval, weird part of his brain considered his territory.

Still, until he could figure out what exactly was going on he had to be careful. Mackenzie was already suspect of his recent behaviour and was far from stupid, if she ever figured out he was now capable of something like this...

No. She would never find out, he'd make damn sure of it.

Whatever the cost.