Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4) Page 6

  “You fucking arsehole! I’ll fucking kill you!”

  She fired like a crazy person, blowing holes in all of the boxes around her. I hit the deck, keeping as low as I could.

  Click.

  The bitch had run out of bullets.

  I darted back round to the front of her, crouching beside the entrance to her little gap. Something heavy landed in the room, over by the window. Warmth from my babies flooded me, their tails wagging happily.

  G.

  “There’s more where that came from!” the woman yelled.

  She was reloading.

  I dove into the gap with my katanas drawn, stabbing her straight through the face, pinning her to a box behind her.

  The gun and cartridge fell out of her hand as she screamed, hands going to the blade that’d burst through her mouth and out the other side. Being the sharp beast my sword was, she sliced her fingers off trying to grab it.

  She was human, so there was nothing for my sword to feed on. Thank fuck for that! I’d only just left Mama Rita!

  G padded up behind me as I sliced upward, splitting the woman’s head in half.

  “Dead,” I said aloud.

  I flung some of the blood off my blade, turning to face the golden eyes watching me in the dark.

  “Alright, G?”

  He shifted back to human, letting out a heavy grunt. G was beta and could shift back and forth at will. Some wolves weren’t so lucky, had to go through a process. It was all about the skill and the ranking in the wolf hierarchy that determined how shifting was. But it still hurt like hell for every single werewolf to change, no matter how fast or slow. Guess a whole change in physical makeup was bound to sting a little.

  As Bob and Rose were still about to help my vision, I got an eyeful of that sculpted, muscular body, that giant cock, those powerful legs, those so-damn-lickable abs.

  Shit!

  His eyes were still golden as he watched me, his big chest rising and falling. Bob and Rose circled him, rubbing their metaphysical flanks across his legs as if they were a pair of hungry cats.

  Like Mama Rita, they had a soft spot for Gabriel.

  I’d seen him naked a few times, and it was always a treat and a bit…I don’t know. Overwhelming? Hey, he was a sexy guy. Who wouldn’t get flustered at seeing him in the nude? Didn’t mean I wanted to marry the fucker.

  “You good?” I asked him.

  He stepped closer. “Were you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. What happened?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  “Where to?”

  Sirens.

  The SCU.

  Yeah, couldn’t be bothered to chat with them. Not that they were a problem for G, but it was a pain in the arse we didn’t need right now. Plus, Violet Cross would be out for blood. We needed to get the hell out of this place, somewhere a bit more, well, like G’s.

  “Let’s get out of here,” the werewolf ordered.

  I was already halfway out of the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Being buck naked hadn’t stopped G from getting us to his car without being spotted.

  He’d parked somewhere discreet. Still, it was a bright August day. Amazing we hadn’t been spotted.

  The beta had earned his stripes again.

  In the underground carpark beneath the bustling streets, which were now being swarmed by the SCU, Gabriel popped the boot open and pulled out blue tracksuit bottoms and white trainers.

  “Get in,” he said, slamming the boot down and slipping on the trousers and footwear.

  I did as I was told.

  A shirtless G slid in next to me, firing up the Merc.

  “No top?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the empty carpark.

  “Too hot out.”

  I nodded. “Sure is, bruv.”

  There was still something off about him, that coolness wafting over me.

  He tore out of the carpark, heading up the slope and out into the sunshine once again, steering with one hand like a total bad arse.

  Left was a no-go, so he turned right, away from all the sirens and lights down the other end of the street.

  “My fucking bike,” I grumbled.

  Another SCU vehicle roared past.

  “Sorry, Aki.”

  Cold, cold, cold.

  “Yeah, well. Lost now, ain’t she?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Being torn apart, sold off for parts.”

  G reached Tottenham Court Road. “You really need to avoid that area now. For sure.”

  I rubbed my chin. “Ah, shit. There’s me banging on. What happened?”

  “Got jumped. Took them out, you saved me a bullet in the guts. Thanks.” But he was still sounding chilly as fuck.

  I shrugged. “Couldn’t let you tackle them on your own. Me they’re after, really. Probably would’ve liked the beta’s head on a spike though—for the novelty.”

  Not one single reaction.

  Moody wanker. “What’s up?”

  He was now heading east, no traffic.

  Boom.

  “Nothing,” he finally answered.

  “Maybe drop me off at a station. I—”

  “No.”

  “I—”

  “I said no, Aki.”

  “Fine.”

  “Father’s orders.”

  “Just throw me the fuck out now.”

  “He wants you safe.”

  “Boring!” I crossed my arms like a huffy dick.

  “He thinks it’s best to have a time out at mine.”

  “I don’t.”

  No response.

  “I’m fine at home. Just drop me—”

  “I just said no.”

  “For fuck’s sake, G! What’s with all this? I went home okay last night. What difference does it make?”

  “All the difference. My place is a lot more secure. And I’m not disobeying a direct order.”

  “That old pissing chestnut.”

  “Yes.”

  “Just tell him—”

  “When I say you can go home, then you can go home. You’re not on a job, are you?”

  “Not yet.”

  We were approaching Old Street.

  “Then, shut up,” he snapped. “You were shot at. Your bike was stolen. You’re marked yourself, Aki. You’ve messed with a dangerous woman, and you need to be careful.”

  “I’m always careful.”

  “Okay.”

  I offered him my best frown. “Don’t sass me, G.”

  “I’m not in the mood for the back and forth, Aki. Seriously, can we have some quiet time?”

  “What am I, five?”

  “You act like it sometimes.”

  I cussed him in Japanese.

  He repeated it back to me. “There, now that makes two of us.”

  G was still cold, his words not said with a sense of fun or camaraderie at all. I decided not to press him. But what did I do? Poison him with my brownies? Did he have the shits last night or something?

  Grouchy fuckhead.

  Look who’s talking.

  Ah, suck donkey dick!

  * * *

  Gabriel’s penthouse was over in Hackney Wick, way out of the way of the drama going on in Oxford Circus.

  It was all posh tower blocks over there, surrounded by fancy parkland and canals, and a huge shopping center that made me dizzy.

  In the distance, the ruined and foreboding tower of Canary Wharf stood out like a decayed thumb on the cityscape. All of that area was dodgy, the big ugly reminder of the almost-apocalypse. Some bad shit had gone down there with the mazoku, and the whole zone had remained cut off for years, too dangerous to repair or regenerate. Most peeps tried to forget it existed.

  An SCU barrier had been put around it. Sometimes, you saw it flash white, just a blink, but enough to tell you what was held inside wanted to get out. If that protection ever fell, who knows what would happen.

  The surrounding area close to the barrier was a slum, a
fave place for gang activity, run by Billy Knuckles, and full of people who’d got a crappy deal. What was my dad doing about that and all the poverty in general? Fuck all, that’s what. Those people were left there to rot, to live near the gates of Hell. It wasn’t fair, but then who was I? What the fuck was I doing about it?

  Life was a real wanker sometimes.

  G’s neighborhood was posh, posh, posh. All the streets were clean and landscaped within an inch of their lives, sparkly fairy lights in the trees to make the night even prettier. In fact, there were actual real fairies living in the trees too. Proper cute if you went in for that kind of crap.

  I watched a man and woman walk past with their tiny dog on a lead, arm in arm in their little bubble of love on a fine summer’s day.

  Made me wanna hurl.

  Gabriel didn’t really live in the neighborhood anymore. Most of his time was spent at his other apartment in The Spire—papa’s huge tower and palace over in Green Park, standing tall above the old royal palaces from the long-gone royal family of the past.

  And once my home.

  Shit hole.

  G drove into another underground carpark, this one swankier and cleaner than the last. The auto door opened for him, then shut quickly behind us, sealing us inside—the perk of living in this block. Good old exclusive residential parking!

  “Been a while,” I said.

  “You don’t have to make small talk,” he replied, swinging his sweet ride into his parking space.

  Rude! “Whatever. Just saying.”

  Didn’t wanna talk anyway. I was pining for Cindy. My poor girl! Fucking scum putting their hands on her!

  “Come on then,” G said. “Let’s go.” He killed the ignition.

  Without a word, I opened the passenger door and stepped out, peeling off my jacket. Man, was I sweating one out. Stupid wearing leather on a day like today. Discreetly, I got a whiff of my pits. Not bad. That new deodorant was really holding back the onion stink. I’d defo be buying more of that. Shame about the sick smell coming from my trainers and jeans ‘cos of that guy puking on me. Ruined the deodorant’s good work. I was glad G hadn’t mentioned anything about that pong.

  Anger struck me in the chest from the inside like an internal boxer, not letting up. I was doing quite well to not lose my shit.

  Cindy…

  My fucking bike!

  I followed a silent G through a chrome door, into a hallway with black tiles and white walls, over to some lifts. Pretty nondescript area, I always thought.

  A panel by the lift doors read his thumbprint, a green laser scanning it twice.

  “Welcome, Mr. Dawson,” a robotic male voice announced. Then a bloke flickered into sight, a holographic man in a tux, sporting a mustache and a blue face.

  “Afternoon, Quentin.”

  The lift doors slid open.

  Quentin tilted his head, a quick movement that was so inhuman. “Mr. Murakami. It has been a while since you last graced us with your presence.”

  Quentin’s voice was a bit like broken English, and super-plummy.

  “Alright, bruv?”

  He bowed, holographic body rippling. “If I may be of service in any way, please do not hesitate to call upon me.”

  “Thanks,” G replied.

  Quentin disappeared with another bow.

  If you can afford to live in a location like Hackney Wick, then you get all the perks of a weird AI butler thingy.

  Technology could be proper creepy sometimes.

  Up we went, in silence, me trying not to look at his abs glistening with sweat, my head bowed low like I was in submission.

  Something not quite right there!

  The lift doors opened out onto the penthouse. We passed through two sets of uber-secure doors, G’s thumbprint required again and stepped into the flat, the living room right before me in all its glory.

  The floors were wooden, gleaming as if they’d never been walked on before, the walls white, the huge corner sofa black leather, the TV massive. But it was the panoramic windows that were awesome for peeps who loved a view, facing out onto the Murakami Park with its huge Olympic Stadium, trees, waterways, all that wow factor, the huge bastard of a shopping center in the distance—which was gold and mirrored and ugly as fuck.

  I liked to keep my last name on the down-low for obvious reasons.

  Over in the far-left corner was a door to the kitchen with a spiral staircase. It led up to the level above where the bedrooms and bathrooms were. There was a guest bathroom downstairs, but the big mamas were up there. The upper level was like a floating box with glass walls, and I could just make out G’s bed up there.

  “I’m having a shower,” he said, “help yourself to whatever.”

  “Cool.”

  The half-naked werewolf went up the spiral staircase without so much as a glance my way.

  I hit the kitchen first, finding a cloth and some washing up liquid to battle the dried puke. It worked quite well actually. Digging out some air freshener from a cupboard, I gave the damp spots I’d made a quick spray. The smell of vanilla. Nice. So much better than spew.

  With that done, I cracked my knuckles and went over to the sofa, plonking myself down.

  Ah, sweet softness on my arse cheeks.

  “Babies.”

  Bob and Rose popped up, resting their heads on a leg each.

  “See if you can find Cindy for me, yeah?” My scent would be all over her.

  They both sniffed the air.

  “Bring back our girl.”

  They ran off at the window, vanishing through the glass. The scents and sounds of the outside world heightened, filling me up. I turned it down a notch. While I couldn’t switch it off completely, I could lessen the impact of these arisen senses.

  On the glass coffee table was the remote for the TV and a video game controller.

  I knew what I was doing while misery guts was getting wet.

  * * *

  I blasted my way through the game, taking down a shit load of aliens, finding myself a rocket launcher, getting through about five levels.

  Bob and Rose were still out in the city, having picked up the faint trace of me. Why was I the shitty abomination half-wolf when I could send my babies out like this?

  Where the hell was G?

  I paused, looking over to the stairs. I couldn’t hear anything.

  How long had he been up there?

  I checked my watch. An hour! Shit!

  “G?” I called.

  Nothing.

  It was official, he was avoiding me. Or asleep. Or wanking.

  “G?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You having a wank?” I went for lighthearted.

  Nothing.

  I guess me acting like a cock last night had come back to bite me in the arse. Fair enough. He could have this one. I’d just have to kill some more aliens.

  He came down into the living room, dressed in a red polo shirt, white jeans, and red trainers. His musky aftershave quickly filled the room.

  “Looking fresh,” I said. He made me look like a right scruff bag.

  He stopped at the side of the sofa, folding his arms. “Who was that guy?”

  “You what?”

  “That guy last night. Who was he?”

  I felt myself frown. “How long were you hanging around for?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  “You do. I’ve been charged with—”

  “Don’t give me that shit, G. You know guys come round sometimes.”

  “It’s reckless, especially with what happened in the slums. What if it was one of Violet’s men? That was really stupid. You need to start thinking with your brain and less with your dick.”

  Was this motherfucker for real? “I shagged Harry from Finchley, not some fucking spy.”

  “You told me you were going to bed.”

  “I did.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Don’t be smart.
”

  I tossed the controller aside, getting to my feet and walking around the sofa to face him properly.

  “Sit down, Aki.”

  “Don’t start lecturing me, wanker. Maybe you need to get yourself a booty call once in a while to loosen up. Stay off my back. I’ll fuck who I want. You weren’t ever bothered before. What’s wrong? You want some of this?” I stuck out my backside, giving it a spank.

  The werewolf squared up to me. He was taller, being about six-four to my five-nine, and a bigger frame. Those green and gold eyes fixed me in place, making every hair on my body stand on end as he towered over me.

  “G—”

  “Listen to me, asshole. Don’t push me, don’t make me take steps to lock you away. I could haul you before your father right now and have you tossed in a cell for your own safety. You’ve no idea how close Alpha’s come to ordering me to do just that.”

  “Fuck you!” Scary prick or not, I wasn’t a mouse. “You’ll have to get your hands on me first.”

  His hands did go on me, grabbing my upper biceps hard. Geezer was uber-strong.

  “Just did.” Then he let me go, turned, and walked away.

  My hands were trembling as I watched him storm off.

  I was an expert at pissing G off.

  He went back up the stairs, leaving me shaking in my trainers, my chest tight, and on the verge of peeing my pants.

  * * *

  No more gaming, just standing at the windows watching the people in the park below, a wave of ants walking and running and having a grand time of it.

  Fuckheads.

  All I could think about was Gabriel getting in my face, how he was lucky I didn’t break his nose. Who the fuck did he think he was anyway? Not like he didn’t know I got me some dick from time to time.

  I was in that stage of hindsight being so great now it was too late. There was shit I wanted to say. Stuff like calling him out on when he last got laid. When was the last time he took a guy home to his pad at The Spire? Not my problem if it was a million years ago. Don’t rag on me ‘cos I’m living my life.

  Maybe he did have a point, though. Bit reckless…

  No!

  Fuck him!

  What the wanker needed was a stiff drink and a stiff cock A.S.A.P. That’d loosen him the hell up.