The whirring sound of the elevator shaft screeching in her ears pulled Jackie from her dream. It was a bad idea to live so close to the contraption. The darn thing was so loud, she avoided using it at all cost. There was no way she was going to willingly walk into that steel cage and hurl to her death. She didn’t care what Riley said; the stairs were much safer. This line of thinking woke her up completely so she rubbed her hands over her crusted eyes, stretching. A few moments later, she took the water bottle from her nightstand because her throat was killing her. After she was finished draining the container and began making her way to the kitchen, a pounding on the door elicited a yip from her.

  The knob jiggled, she squeezed the bottle in her nervous grip as she moved closer.

  She slid behind her bedroom door and listened to the encroaching footsteps. Anger flaring as she smelled a familiar musk. She tossed the crushed bottle onto the couch, it thumped onto the carpet as she dashed past. She lurched toward the front door and almost tore it off its hinges in her eagerness to confront her late night intruder, her heart racing. But there was no one there. Just the flickering light of a nearby sconce on the wall.

  She stopped short, bewildered. She was sure there had been someone. Her senses were sharper and reliable in that way. She shook her head, thinking she should probably get more sleep.

  “It smelled like that wolf,” she grated. Her hand twitched. She imagined she was strong enough to rip someone’s throat out. If only she had the killer instinct in her. Much like the one she felt back when...the memory of Simon’s blood washed over her, the lingering and memorable scent filling her lungs. Only now her instinct remained dormant and nothing inside her screamed for blood.

  She closed her eyes.

  “If that fucker dared show up, I-I’d rip his spine from him.” Clamping her mouth shut to disguise her fear, she closed the door, turning the lock.

  She began to return to her room and paused.

  She reached up to secure the chain for extra security. Just in case, she thought. It brought her comfort even if it didn’t actually protect her.

  With these musings, she went back to her room. A blurred motion disturbed the shadows near her window. She squinted in the dark as it took shape, it began to look like, like a…

  She cocked her head, first to the left then to the right before the silhouette materialized.

  Like a person.

  Her sudden gasp was cut short. The shadow came forward and all she remembered seeing was the blurred sight of a hand coming from the darkness, a sharp pain in her neck and the darkness swallowing her consciousness as her eyelids fluttered shut.

  ***

  “Wake up.”

  The command broke through the cloud of her dreaming, the voice sounded distorted in this foggy state. Her arms were bound. She moved her mouth behind the tape, squinting slightly. Her eyes roamed her surroundings, she was in the middle of her living room.

  Someone must have turned on all the lights in the apartment because everywhere she looked she was blinded by them.

  She leaned forward and the hardwood of what felt like the shape of a chair pressed against her back and the sides of her restrained arms. It seemed that a rope tied her to it. She cursed inwardly, no cushion. She cocked her head, leaning her ear outward, watching for movement.

  Without registering it fully, she recognized this scent. It had been all over her apartment the day Simon died and it was also her late night intruder.

  There was no denying it. The killer had found her. She was now in his captivity in her own home. He was going to kill her. That voice from earlier didn't trigger any recognition in her, but he was who she had been looking for and who had been, more specifically, looking for her.

  She swallowed hard. This was some scary shit. She didn't want to face a killer. As much as she had been searching this murderer down, she hadn't prepared for what she would do when he'd found her or even if she had found him.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  She instinctively flinched, her spine going ramrod straight.

  “Ow!” She shook her hand, her claws had cut her palm. The cut throbbed and a wet trail dripped from her finger. She made a fist to stop the bleeding. Biting her lip, she grappled with her panic. Were werewolves cannibalistic? She prayed they weren’t.

  “I didn’t kill your friend.” The voice was male. The killer was a man. Great, she could totally overpower a fully grown male wolf. Sureeee, she can. The sarcasm in her thoughts didn't calm her nerves in the slightest.

  “O-oh yeah?” she stammered. What a liar. Her chest heaved as her breathing quickened.

  “No, I was only here to steal papers from you, papers that I later found can cure the sickness plaguing our kind.”

  “What are you blabbering about? Quit hiding and release me, you psychopath.” Jackie threw herself where she heard his voice, tears rimming her eyes. “You coward!”

  “My queen, I need your help. The kingdom is in trouble.”

  Her eyes turned as wide as the moon. Queen? Did he mean her? The killer was calling her his queen? What?

  A crinkling noise came shortly after he continued speaking from wherever he hid, her eyes scanned for a hand or extended leg.

  “I’m not your friend’s killer, but I did steal your research. The king sent me with an order to protect you and our kind. This was before lunacy consumed his mind.”

  Her eyes swept over one end of the room to the other. Lowering her chin, she asked, “What is lunacy and what does that have to do with me?”

  He choked a bit before speaking, “Lunacy devours the mind. Our previous king seemed to have been born with it, it hasn’t been confirmed yet however I suspect it’s hereditary. If so, there’s a possibility I might have it. There has been nothing that points to specific triggers. I haven’t been near the ones who have it for long enough to notice anything like that.”

  “Okay, a mad king. Totally original and believable. I'd give you a small and slow clap if my hands weren't tied.” Whatever was holding her to the chair was not rope. She could easily tear through most materials, but she was having a difficult time breaking through this one. She didn't know what she would do if she managed to break free. Her teeth chattered, she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. What could she even do after these restraints were removed? Tremble at his feet?

  “I need your help,” he said, picking up the conversation she had lost track of. She tried to push the image of him overpowering her from her mind; grotesque imaginings of her fate if she didn't calm down.

  She gasped as the killer’s head emerged from behind the kitchen wall before he traipsed into the living room.

  The daisy detective! She gaped at him. Without even knowing it, Riley had delivered her to the grim reaper himself. Jackie always knew that woman was capable of something this catastrophic. Simon’s killer stood right in front of her and all she could do was gape at him from her bound position. What the actual fuck? She took in the duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, the slightly oversized sweater he wore. She watched as he rolled up the sleeves, shoved his hands in his baggy jeans pocket and pulled out crumpled papers in one hand.

  From this distance, she could make out the title, Lycanae…that’s my research. She leaned back and narrowed her eyes up at him, trying her best to look unconvinced. He could show her all the papers he wanted and still that wouldn’t mean he was innocent.

  Great so her friend’s killer wanted her help. There was no way she could. He was a murderer. Even so, he hadn’t killed her yet which meant she had some time before she confronted him with the intent to kill. He wanted her research. He needed her and that gave her the upper hand, she held the control and he offered her the chance to cross the boundary at no cost.

  From the look in this wolf’s eyes, he was ready to travel as soon as possible even if that was right now.

  Pursing her lips, she turned her gaze from his pleading eyes. She could always kill him after they crossed. Based off the size of him and the fact that he was a werewolf, she wasn’t sure she could defeat him but she would still try.

  “Okay, I’ll go.”

  He nodded his head, the tension around his eyes eased, and it made him look a bit younger than even her.

  Her eyes stayed on the clock as seconds passed, minutes flying by before she got bored and eventually returned her gaze to Detective Wilde. She rocked back and forth, and back and forth. There was no calming the rage inside her, there was no disguising her emotions. Her pain and anger. Jackie hooked a finger around the rope binding her chest.

  “So?”

  His head whipped towards her. “Yes?”

  “Are you going to untie me or…?”

  He walked closer and loosened the ropes around her. She thrust her forehead toward his. That didn’t work, her head just lolled. She made for a punch, but her arms flailed at her sides. They were useless noodles that grew heavier with each passing minute. She narrowed her eyes at the pleased smirk on his lips. “You asshole! What did you do?! Why. Can’t. I. Punch. You?!”

  “It’s my job not to trust people. I figured you would try something like this. Don’t you worry. Your strength will return in an hour or so.”