Chapter 12

Twelve

MAXIMILLIAN

“Where do you think he is?” Brushing off my suit arms, I sneak a glance at my pants to make sure the creases are straight. It’s the only one I own. Dry cleaning bill was a bitch in between leaving Appleton and coming here, the White Wolf Lodge back in Gnarled Pine Hollow. Livia looks as hot as the sun in her tight black leather dress. Probably would burn me just the same. Her curves are certainly baking up my boner.

“Lavinio said the basement, probably. I have a map my hacker gave me.” Pulling it up on her phone, she studies the directions we’ve been over forty times already. We had to go through the metal detectors, so couldn’t bring weapons, but I managed to sneak in a thin wire disguised as a bracelet to wrap around the necro’s neck. If we find him. My hackers were somewhat helpful. At least they said the building was correct. If I rely on Livia’s intel, then Ken should be in the basement of this stuffy casino. She wants these guns as much as I do, so I have to trust that the information is honest.

Transported back to a minimalist 80s decade, we stand in the entrance of the posh casino where everything on the floor of the club is white, puffy, and round. Like a bad art deco replication. The place is packed with gamblers and old ladies at the slots, but we wanted that for our plan to work. Well… my little fox’s plan.

Livia nods in the direction of the nearest bar. Before we arrive, a group of expensively suited men, all looking like the fighters I’ve been around over the last eight years, comes strolling out of the bank of elevators. Outfitted in creams and grays, they look every bit the seething pack blasted on every sigil in this place.

“Right on cue,” Livia says quietly, flipping the tail of her hair over her shoulder. I move closer to her body protectively.

The one in front, built like a boxer and looking like he’s ready to swing, is aiming straight for us. Crystal blue eyes penetrate my skin like daggers. His short, blonde mohawk stands straight up, perfectly styled. There’s not an inch of exposed skin without a tattoo, other than his face and head. He’s grown a short beard and mustache to look like he’s rugged, but it, too, is perfectly manicured, as are his suit, nails, and shoes. The only thing rough about him is his attitude. I’d recognize him anywhere.

“Ace. Good to see you again.” Bracing myself for a hit from any direction, I steady my stance.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Freidenberg?” His entire posse surrounds us, shoulders bulked up, ready to spar. One huge guy even pounds a fist into his other hand, his wolf tattoo looking more like a walrus, given the thickness of his neck.

Disappointment. That’s what I’m feeling. If there was any hope he would’ve welcomed me home like an old friend, it’s dashed immediately with the scene in front of us. “Come on, man. I haven’t seen you since we were eight.”

As Ace nears my face, wafts of beer stench roll off him like he’s bathed in the suds. Lowering his voice, he snarls at me. “You killed my sister. You’re dead to me. You can leave.”

My body stills. He’s looking for a fight. To start one, I could accuse him of killing my parents, but I don’t think he did it. “Did you kill my parents, Asa?” I call him by his given name.

His brow furrows with confusion. “No.”

“We didn’t kill Ashley,” I say flatly, hopeful he’ll actually believe me.

“Don’t fucking say her name.” Clutching the edge of my pressed black dress shirt tightly, he pulls me into his body. There’s only about two inches I have on him. I’m bulkier, but I know Ace fights just like he plays. Dirty.

“We didn’t. I didn’t. No one from our clan did.” My collar vibrates in Ace’s grasp as his hands twitch with fury. The whites of his eyes are latticed with broken veins like he hasn’t slept in days. Probably hasn’t. Softly, I say, “We didn’t do it, Ace. But I’ll kill the man who did. I’ll kill him with you.”

The grip loosens on my clothes before his palm gives my chest a warning shove. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I come here to keep the peace. I just got into town, man. Wanted to catch up with you, my old friend.” Opening my palms at my sides, I show him I’ve got nothing to hide. His wolves retreat as he does with a calculated step backwards.

“You want peace? Bring me back my father! Bring me back my mother! Bring me back my sister… Fuck the world, Maxi! There’s no such thing as peace.” Snatching a pint of Guinness the bartender set on the counter for him, he chugs while narrowing his gaze at me. “And I’ll make damn sure no one keeps it.”

He waves his hand at the bartender for another. Instead of downing this glass, Ace takes a sip and shrugs, then turns to me and throws the full beer in my face.

Dry cleaning bill. That’s all that goes through my mind as my fist flies, darkness covering my vision as rage takes over. Turns out, he is a boxer. Ace is ready for my hook with an elbow block, but I grapple him and take him down in a choke hold. Before I can squeeze too hard, his men descend on me, tearing me off his body, their claws gripping my throat. Ace chokes and gasps, but stands, then kicks me in the groin. The sheer pain doubles me over in agony, and if I yelp, I can’t hear it with the amount of blood rushing through my ears. My knees can’t hit the ground because my arms are being held back in a tight squeeze by a few of the guys. Spluttering a few breaths, I swallow back my vomit.

Once my hearing stops its ringing, vicious echoes of laughter call out like howls on a moonlit night.

“Take him downstairs,” Ace says, then narrows his gaze at Livia. “And her, too.”

I don’t think they’d hurt her. Cal would already be here if that were the case. He’s probably watching this whole scene now from one of his trusty monitors. Hopefully, it looks like we were just here for a friendly welcome visit that went sour, leaving the Von Dovish clan leader none the wiser. Tomorrow, I’ll be sore… if I even live to see another day.

Livia’s strategy better work.

Once we exit the elevator in the basement, the wolf pack continues to force my shuffles to a windowless room filled with cinderblocks. It looks like any interrogation room I’ve been in. And I’ve been inside plenty of police stations. A lone wooden table with two chairs on either side squats in the middle as I scan the area for any weapons.

I know what comes next. My only regret is that I spent my money on veneers thinking I was done fighting. Looks like I may have to pay for them all over again as I take the first hit to the jaw. Walrus boy behind me locks my arms up until they almost snap. Another guy with electric blue hair circles the man punching me, waiting for his turn. Blue hair gets one in my stomach as the first man busts me in the nose.

My eyes are bleary from the flurry of hits, tears involuntarily dripping from my sockets. Blood seeps into my mouth from my broken septum. To keep from choking on it, I spit on the floor. The beating doesn’t hurt, yet. Adrenaline is pumping through all my arteries, so the only thing I feel is numb.

Hit after hit lands on my body with rank precision, and I take it, hoping to get knocked out quickly. Blinking rapidly, I scan the tiny room as Walrus turns me for another pelting, and my already quickened pulse rate skyrockets. I wasn’t planning on fighting back, until I don’t see my little fox anywhere. She’s supposed to be here with me. If they’ve done something to her...

Shaking the cobwebs from my head, I try to scan the room, but another hit makes my vision double. The lids over my eyes are so thick with swelling, I struggle to keep them open, but I still don’t see her, terror replacing the rage within my soul.

“Foxy!” I manage to yell, but my tongue is fat in my mouth, my lips distorted in size. My heart beats faster than I thought possible as I struggle against the man holding me back.

The guy hitting me laughs. “Oh, we’ll be taking turns with her, too. Right, fellas?” Like a pack of hyenas, they all cackle, probably not understanding their sheer demise were they to try such a thing with the Von Dovish sister.

That’s it. With what’s left of my strength, I flip the guy holding my arms over my back, throwing him into the man trying to punch me. The two of them barrel over and tangle up together on the floor. I box blue hair with three quick jabs before he knows what hit him, the last landing on his windpipe. Grabbing him around the waist, I thrust his body into the other two, and the three almost fall over as I make a run for the exit.

Snagging the doorknob, I twist, but it’s locked. My vulnerable backside is open, and someone gets a lick at the back of my skull. Everything fades to black as I yell, “Livia!”

“I told you. He needs a necro. Not just a fucking healer. Your pack did this to him. Get your necro here. Now.”

Livia’s voice is commanding, and it soothes the sheer shock of pain erupting throughout my body. She’s operating the plan. If I can just keep it together and see straight, I’ll be able to focus on the next step.

Blinking rapidly, I rub my face. Fuck! My nose is broken again. Popping it back as straight as I can, I hock out some blood from the back of my throat as I sit up. Strings of mucus cling to my bottom lip, but I cut them off with a brush of the back of my tremulous hand. The cold concrete floor of the interrogation room offers no cushion for my aching bones. Putting my head between my knees, I take inventory of my body. I’m good. I’ve had worse.

“You okay, lion? Can you do this?” Livia squats next to me and grabs my fingers with both her little hands.

“Yeah, baby. I can do it.” I swallow, then poke around my mouth with my tongue. My teeth seem to be intact. “I yelled for you. I couldn’t see you. I was worried…”

“Oh, they stuck me in another room. Ace knows who I am. He knows there would’ve been war if they’d hurt me. Cal’s likely watching every move.” She eyes the door at approaching footsteps. “He’s in here!”

A lanky guy with some outdated dyed navy emo haircut billows inside the room, his long black lab coat giving away his profession. Pretty sure he’s never seen the sun. It must be our boy.

“This guy’s alive,” he says with a bass voice that rattles the doorknob, one lanky finger pointing at me sitting on the floor. Man’s a genius.

“Who are you?” Livia asks as if she didn’t call him in here.

“Ken. You asked for a necro. I’m not a fucking healer.” He looks like he’s about to leave, but Livia jumps up and shuts the door before he can escape.

My voice sounds dry and cracked, but I manage to get out, “It’s the strangest thing. I was dead, but I just came back to life. Does that make me some kind of god?”

“Where are the ears, Ken?” Livia asks from behind him, pressing her lithe body against the door.

Ken looks from me to her. “Huh?”

“The ears? Lavinio’s ears. Where do you keep them?”

His face darkens as his black eyebrows pull closer together. “The fuck? You workin’ for him or something? That’ll be a problem with Donovan.”

With some effort, I get myself to a standing position, narrowing my gaze as he casually glances at me over his shoulder. “She asked you a question, my man. Where are the ears? That’s all we need from you.” It isn’t, but I’ll put him at ease before I lay him to rest.

The guy makes a motion to run, but I grab him from behind in a bear hug. Before I realize, he pulls out a blade from his wrist and repeatedly jabs at my chest. I let go of him, not even sensing the small cuts. Fear and rage rush through my veins like opiates. When he twists, though, he gets in deeper jabs with the sharp instrument.

Stumbling back, I look down… he’s stabbed me. A few times. I clutch at the wounds, which start to ooze like ink through the black shirt covering it. Ken continues to move with my body, striking out with his blade while I ward off his attacks by holding up my cut arms. Reaching around his neck, I squeeze, but one of my tendons is loose, unable to assist. As my legs go weak, he falls with me, that fucking knife pointing straight at the center of my chest.

As he raises it above his head for a final blow to my heart, a thunderous pop shatters the silence through the room. My ears deafen, filling with cotton. The necro’s body falls on top of mine as we collapse to the floor together. I’m tired. Just want to go back to that blackness and get some rest.

Before I do, Livia’s peeling the dead guy off me. “Get the fuck up, lion. Get the fuck up.” Everything is so heavy, but she tugs on my arm, then by my dress shirt. Squatting low, she tries to get me to sit up.

“Where’d you get the gun?” My voice sounds far away. Even speaking is a chore I’d rather not do.

“From that room they put me in. Now come on before they get down here. We need to find the ears. They have to be in his room or something. Move your ass, lion. Go!”

Pulling me to my knees, she leans her body under my shoulder, helping me stumble to a standing position. “You could have shot me.”

She smirks, and I want to kiss her fucking lips right off her face. “Yeah, but I changed my mind and shot him instead.” Livia leans me against the wall and walks back to the bloody body oozing all over the stone floor.

“No, let me do it.” I’m starting to slump, my knees shaking like they’re made of jelly. She doesn’t need to see this.

“I got it.” She picks up the knife from the necro and starts sawing off his ear like it’s just another Tuesday. “Shit!”

“What?”

Glancing up at me with her golden eyes, she hesitates, then says, “This is harder than I thought.”

Heaving my body off the cinderblocks, I snag the blade from her hand. “As I said.” With a quick flick and thrust, I rip the ear from his head, a string of skin snagging as if not letting go without a fight. Eventually, I tear it enough so I can pull it loose and shove the whole thing in my pocket. With the necro’s lab coat, I clean up what blood I can from my hands, then use my belt to hold the blade in case I need it later. “Let’s go.”

Hobbling behind her, we make our way through the wide concrete tunnels of the lower floor beneath the casino. Red lights flash from cameras in every corner. It’s only a matter of time before we get caught. I’m sure Ace will finish the job himself if he sees me.

“Here.” Livia shoves her shoulder against a gray metal door almost the entire way down the dark corridor. It’s unlocked. “Echoes says this is the necro area.”

Walking into the white-tiled room feels like stepping into a refrigerator. One wall has a bank of gleaming body coolers, but to cozy up the place, there’s a human incinerator near the back. In the middle is a stainless-steel slab. Fortunately, it’s empty.

“He’d keep them frozen, right?” Livia darts around the room like a squirrel, diving into every locker and crevice she can find. Involuntarily, my knees give, so I lean against the wall, gripping my wounds to slow some of the bleeding. The world is fading in front of my eyes, with every blink getting slower and longer to recover from. “Wait! Here!” Her excitement wakes me from a short slumber, a snort arousing me further.

Livia points to a small white door underneath a large vent. Using the table in the middle of the room, I lumber toward her and enter a small apartment. With a shoulder resting against the door frame, I watch as she overthrows the mattress, bedding, dresser, and kitchen supplies, silverware clanking against the floor as it scatters.

“Foxy.” Snapping my fingers, I point to the mini fridge covered by a tapestry and microwave.

Scrunching her adorable face, she looks at me with disgust. “Ew, don’t you think he kept food in there?”

I shrug as she bends over to look inside. The sight of her tight ass protruding through her jeans makes me feel healed already. Maybe I will live another day. If I want inside of it, to mark it, to deposit my cum in it, I’ll have to push on.

“Gross. Let’s go.” She tosses a large plastic baggie at me. Catching it, I peek at its contents. Yep. We got the goods: a clear bag filled with ears of varying skin colors and sizes. I really don’t want to see a tiny one. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the fresh part and add it to the others.

Before we can leave, both of us halt. Loud shouting echoes down the hall as footsteps sprint toward us. As if it’s done pumping all the blood out, my pulse doesn’t even escalate. Scanning the room, I don’t see any cameras, but security had to have seen us come in. “Shit,” I curse.

Livia hurries to a body cooler and opens it. A white sheeted stiff lies on the metal tray. “Get in.”

“No way.”

She grimaces, and her eyes get so big, I can see the whites surrounding the entire honey iris. I’ve seen this look before when she would threaten me not to make a sound while playing hide-and-seek after finding her hiding spots. Foxy would pull me down with her and tell me to stay quiet or she’d kick my shins in. “Get the fuck in! Or we’re dead.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I hurdle myself onto the cold, hard body, laying on top of it. My aching fingers grip the edges of the cloth, attempting to wrap myself until I do a decent job. Livia shoves my tomb closed with a clang of finality as darkness surrounds me and I feel like I’m being raptured home. A chill permeates every pore of my skin, the person lying underneath me providing no comfort. Each wound I sustained slowly transforms from tender to numb. And despite the fact I’m cuddling with a cadaver, it’s peaceful. Perhaps I should just stay here until my heart becomes one with the dead.

Nah, I gotta kill Strauss before I die. And give Arianna the home she deserves.

And put my dick inside Livia.

And kiss her lips.

The men enter and search the room. Some body trays are opened and shut repeatedly. Fuck, of course they would look around here. Terrible hiding spots. Clutching my friend closer, I snuggle under the sheet, hoping they don’t open mine or Livia’s coolers.

“No, I don’t see them,” one of them says. “Maybe they went to the vault.”

“Then get the fuck back here! Call the healer!” someone else barks through a radio.

Lots of pounding steps, then the room is silent once again.

Some unknown time has passed, and I feel like I must have traveled to the netherworld because the light hurts when it hits my eyes. As I become aware, Livia is staring at my face with a look of terror. The sight warms my heart, thinking she may have caught some feelings for me, and that half dead part comes back to life, realizing I’ve done the same. “Oh my god. You’re okay.”

“Yeah, foxy.” Coughing, I press myself up, each wound aching again as the temperature rises in the room. More blood lodges in the back of my throat, and I hock it into the sink along one wall. “You worried?”

Ignoring me, she grabs my hand and tugs. “Come on. I think there’s an exit through a garage on the northwest wall. Echoes showed me. Let’s go.”

After my nap, I feel stronger and even more so knowing my foxy girl feared for my life. With Livia under my shoulder to help support me, we make it to the garage bay. The warehouse is empty this time of night or early morning. Limping the entire way to her car, I’m grateful she drove.

As soon as the door opens, my body collapses into the passenger seat. It’s the last thing I remember.

Gentle strokes graze my forehead, brushing back tickling locks of hair. My nose senses I’m back in my own room, a scent of rustic wood mixed with my cologne. A shadow crosses my closed lids with every tender touch, which causes tingles from my scalp down to my neck with every caress.

It’s been years since I’ve felt so safe and loved, comfortable and cared for. If there’s such a paradise, perhaps my spirit has moved on from the horrors of the world to the heavens.

“Mama?” My question fills the air with a hoarse dryness.

The movements cease. Lifting my eyelids slowly, I meet Livia’s amber eyes, both glistening in the dim light with wetness. I prop myself up on an elbow and cup her cheek. It’s hot and flushed, as if she’s been crying, and the sight rips me from my high into hell.

“Shh, shh. Little fox, what’s wrong?”

She quickly shakes her head, preventing her tears from falling. Tiny hands push me back to a lying position as she straddles my waist. When she leans toward me, her black mohawk tail tickles my face before her thick lips press against my forehead, kissing me lightly. When she pulls away, her breath heats my skin, the sensation traveling down my abdomen and into my dick. Involuntarily, my hips gravitate toward her core, seeking its natural habitat while my balls quiver in anticipation.

“I’m sorry about your mother, Max.” Puffy pink lips linger so close to mine as she snares my eyes with hers. I crane my neck to tap them with my own, but she backs up slowly. She’s just out of reach.

“Please.” Threading my fingers around her head, the shaved hairs along the sides graze my palms. “Please, Livia.” We hold like that for a moment, reaching into each other’s gazes, seeking what the other wants. She diverts from my lips to suction hers against my cheek a moment, then sits back on my lap as I let her go with frustration… and awe. “You saved me.”

“Your healer came up here. She stitched you up.” Livia’s smooth, pale skin shines brightly next to my tanned and inked chest as she shows off my new bandages, fingers crawling over each one delicately. “You’ll be fine.”

Squeezing my abs, I sit, grabbing her by the back of the neck. Her eyes widen and she pants with an open mouth, filled with fear. Instead of forcing that kiss just now, I suck on her exposed neck like a teenager. Using my teeth, I tear into her skin enough to draw a drop of blood. I need to taste her and leave a mark. Her moans ripple through her chest and into mine as she digs her nails into the bare skin of my back.

Yeah, she wants me. Just as much as I want her.

“Lie back,” I command her. She does, and I climb on top of her body. As I loosen her jeans, she puts a hand on mine to stop me.

“Please. No, Max. I don’t want to.”

Narrowing my brow, I shake my head in confusion. “You don’t want to what?”

“I-I-I don’t want you to get inside me.” Several blinks while reading her face, the truth settles within me. She’s lying. I think I’m getting to know her well enough. This girl is lying to my face. Why, though? She doesn’t seem to be the prudish kind. I watched her get down with a couple, for fuck’s sake. I’ll respect her wishes, but…

“Are you on your period or something? ’Cause I would love to soak my cock in your blood. I don’t think you understand just how much.” Rolling her bottom lip under her front teeth, she shakes her head, suddenly shy. “Can I at least repay you? For what happened at Strauss’s meeting? For saving my life?” Hooking my fingers in her waistband, I slowly tug downwards as she gives me a slight bob of her head. “I need more than a nod.”

“Yes.”

That word is like a long-lost melody to a tune I’ve been singing since we were kids. The beast within me just hears go, but I forcefully try to focus on her needs instead of myself, not wanting to scare her off. But a man can only wait so long. Once I get a taste of her, I know I’ll want more.

Slipping her pants down, I toss them and her thong on the ground. Easing her knees apart with my hands, I lay between her legs and stare at her perfect pussy lips. The crown jewel piercing the top is begging for a polish with my tongue while her wetness shimmers by the light of the window. Scooping her waist with one forearm, I ignore the pain from my cuts and flip her over onto her stomach. Her head is near the bottom of the bed, and I scoot myself behind her. Pulling her hips up into the air with a firm grip, I raise her cunt to my mouth and get my first taste of my little fox.

Fuck. Her honey pot is just what this bear needed after a long hibernation. A low growl escapes my chest as I inhale her scent. She gasps when I dive in like I haven’t eaten all winter. Because I haven’t. Not like this.

Licking from her front to her back, I suck on her clit diamond, then her taint, then fuck her asshole with my tongue before doing it all over again. My teeth grip the ring and tug, and she squirms, a high-pitched keen fluttering from her mouth. Hmm, she likes it. I do it again while stroking her repeatedly in a pattern, making her body shiver in my arms. The fact I’m able to control her like this sends a rapid rush of blood to my dick.

Livia tries to push back into my nose, but I’ve got her hips in a tight grip. Shoving my entire face into her, I shake my head to tell her no. I’m in control here, and I want to bathe in her sweet nectar. Drown in it until I die.

Lying back, I pull down my sweatpants. My cock is a flagpole, erect and flying high. Grasping it with my right hand, I tug madly to relieve the pressure built up there. The tip is oozing with need.

“Get the fuck up here and mount my face, foxy.”

Livia doesn’t hesitate. She scooches up to sit on me. My nose rubs her hood ring, and my tongue circles her hole. Writhing her hips back and forth, my day’s stubble grazes her inner thighs as she rides. We’re both going to get rug burn.

It doesn’t take long for my little minx to grip my head into a vice and squeeze while screaming, her wetness running into my mouth while I greedily lap it up. Hearing her wails of ecstasy makes me explode in my own hand. I’m drenched from head to toe with sweat, nut, and foxy’s scent.

Livia slides back to sit on my chest. Gripping her thighs with my cum-covered hands, I suckle each of her legs in turn, making little red marks pop up along her creamy skin. “Want another ride? You don’t need a ticket. Just hop back on.” I smirk at her, letting my tongue gather up her residue around my mouth.

She looks at me with softness as her fingers brush back hair that’s stuck to my forehead with perspiration. Groaning, I close my eyes to memorize the sensation. When I open, I’m greeted with another view of her perfect pink pussy lips lounging on my tattooed abdomen.

When my eyes meet hers again, she dismounts, and my hands fall to my side. Leaning up on my elbow, I ask, “Where you going?”

“I need to go home. I’ve been here too long. I’ll call you if I hear anything.” She scrambles off the bed and dresses, then throws on a jacket and darts out of my room. If I hadn’t just orgasmed, I’d chase after her.

Flopping back on the mattress, I huff with irritation. Foxy’s feline ways are getting tiresome quickly.