The Hun

Caleb is strong enough to watch my back but he’s also a loose cannon. He’s made a lot of mistakes on the force, but he doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. I thumb the cigarette in my pocket again before leaving Mirasol’s office. I drop my stuff off in my office and then quickly make my way to my car. I don’t even look up when I pass the kids. I learned a long time ago that you make yourself a target when someone sees your weaknesses. I had asked if Camille needed a ride home, but Mike was on his way to pick her up, lucky Mike.

Mike’s devotion must have been what hooked her. It couldn’t have been his looks. He’s about a foot shorter than her and he has a large English nose. His lips are large like a fish's lips and he has a receding hairline. The worst part is that his baldness just accentuates that he has a egg-shaped head. He doesn’t even make more money than she does. Not that I would place Camille in the gold digger’s category. Camille is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met. I just think that she should get something out of the deal.

I shake my head thinking which bar I should hit before going home. Prostitution is legal, so maybe I can pick up a warm body for my bed tonight. I’ve had a few pros before and their good to me because I pay well. I laugh to myself, wondering what Mirasol would think if I brought a fishnet covered prostitute to the annual Christmas party. They’ve never seen a girl with me before. Regular girls think my job is despicable. Besides, most of the regular girls probably have someone in their family running from me. With a prostitute everything is secretive and you’re guaranteed to get lucky in the end.

I decide against the prostitute and instead go to the Hun and get some good drinks. It’s the perfect name. After leaving the Hun, patrons actually feel more like barbians. In front of the bar, two bikers are already going at it. One I recognize for being a hothead. He’s a dirty-looking blond that always seems to be just passing through.

" I can’t believe you're fighting over a lousy beer, Harry," A blond woman shrieks coming to stand beside the other guy.

She can barely get a word in edge wise between the midsts of blood coming from her guy’s broken jaw. I contemplate stopping the fight, but realize that the beer must be good if their fighting over it. Besides, the woman seems to be pulling out a cell phone to call the ‘real’ cops. I think how happy they’ll be to put down their doughnuts for a call.

I wander inside. It’s about three a.m. and the bar is packed. In this part of town, the partying usually doesn’t start until about two thirty anyways. This street used to be Virginia Beach Blvd. but now it’s just Main Street. When the new government took over they changed a lot of things. Now, the places that used to be known for businesses, are just a road of shifty bars and rundown apartments. I believe the apartments are there for the drunks who manage not to squander the whole of their paychecks.

I’m hit by the glowing blue lights and the waft of smoke flirting with my nostrils. I can barely see through to the all-girl band on the stage. The girls are almost completely nude. I see the drummer and realize that Raven can’t be that far off. Raven is my ex-girlfriend and lead singer of the band. It’s awkward for me every time I see them perform. If I had known they’d be playing I probably would have gone to the other side of town. She’s the one who did the dumping and all she said was we are better off being friends. That’s like the kiss of death. It could mean anything from I’ve outgrown you, too I’m screwing your friend. It’s just sad seeing how far she’s fallen. She used to be the lead singer of a major recording band.

"Looking good Aiden," A blond waitress named Sheila says passing me. Her curved body stands out in her low-cut top. I’m glad that she’s going to be around tonight as a distraction.

"I’ll have the beer the guys are out front fighting about," I say walking between chairs to get to a seat closer to the stage. It’s like a punishment to be this close to Raven but for some reason, I’m compelled to comply.

"Coming right up," She says strutting back over to the bar. I lean around to take in the full impact of her strut.

Keeping my eyes focused on the bar I see Earl. He’s planted firmly behind it slinging drinks faster than any human would be able to. I smelt his wolf the first time I ever walked into this bar. When he didn’t work the next full moon, it reassured me. I knew exactly what he was, but I’m sure someone figured it out long before I did. I wonder sometimes what doors would be closed to me if I had to change every full moon. Even though It takes so much more than a scrape to contract lycanthrope people fear it almost as much as the now extinct HIV. Mostly lycanthropy is hereditary, but some horrible attacks have been known to bring it on.

My mother barely survived when she was raped. Coming out of the hospital with the slashes all over her face and arms, her mother barely recognized her. When she didn’t turn on the first full moon doctors were ecstatic. When she found out she was pregnant they began to fear the worst again. I only got half the symptoms myself, and people say my dad was a pack leader.

"Here you go sugar," Sheila whispers appearing from nowhere. Her perfume cuts my nostrils like a knife.

"Now don’t you get all shy on me and forget to say goodbye," she says with her eyes capturing mine.

"Never," I say as she leans in and I brush her cheek with a kiss, "I’m hoping to go home with you."

"I’d like that," She says mouth in a wide smile. We have history, a very passionate history.

Guitar strumming begins on the stage as Sheila goes off to finish her shift. Music in a rapid pulse radiates in my inner ear. All eyes are on the band, as Raven begins to sing a song about oozing with heartbreak. I turn away from the stage. My back to it I can hear the many sounds, but the clarity of her voice stands out. Hypnotizing she sings, and I can’t get up and leave even though my body wants to.

"You want to dance?" A redhead asks me snagging the empty chair next to me. She looks like the standard type that would be slumming in these types of bars. Chubby features are highlighted by smeared blue eye shadow and thick black eyeliner.

"I guess," I say gulping down the rest of my beer. She quickly grabs my arm and yanks me onto the partially empty dancefloor.

The song is slow and the girl is far from on beat. She has thick legs and she prances around like an elephant. I kind of just stand next to her letting her do her thing. She runs her fingers through my thick black hair and I can’t help but shudder. It feels like an invasion but I don’t want to get back to the stage either.

"Do you come here often?" She yells over the sound of the bass guitar. Humid breath crawls toward me and I swallow the thick salt I’m holding in my mouth.

Finally, she takes the hint that I don’t want to be bothered when the blond biker appears back inside. She bee-lines for him. It’s good to get her away from me, but I still have an hour before Sheila can even hope to get off work.

"You broke my heart, you dirty dog," Raven sings on the stage. Long pink hair falls across thin shoulders. Purple contacts sit where brown eyes used to be. I turn away from the stage only to catch the redhead I was just dancing with, with her tongue down the biker’s throat, pulling him toward a dark corner.

After the band finishes their set, I head towards the bathroom. I don’t want any chance of Raven sneaking up on me. I’m alone when I go in the stall, but when I come back out Earl is washing his charcoal hands in the corroded sink.

"Cut myself," He says applying soap, "they don’t know how good they got it."

"Yeah," I say with a certain understanding of what we’re talking about, “and we could never be the ones to tell them.”

“Get us killed,” he says solemnly.

“Yea,” I respond.

"So you haven’t been around in a while Aiden, why is that?" He says drying his hands with what’s left of a paper towel.

"Job keeps me busy, that’s all," I say giving him my best fake smile.

"That’s not all that’s bothering you, but I can see you don’t want to talk. I’ll leave you to your thoughts then," he says with a curt smile. Without another word, he turns to leave.

"Wait," I say grabbing his shoulder," thanks." I don’t know what I’m thanking him for exactly. I guess it reminds me that I’m not necessarily human.

"Anytime," he says, and then he’s gone back into the bar with a jolt of the door and a blast of noise. I take a deep breath and then head out myself, hoping that Sheila’s ready to go.

"You ready?" She meets me outside the bathroom door covered to the thigh in a baby blue leather coat. Sheila doesn’t even wait for a response before taking my hand. Her tiny fingers feel calming in my own large hands.

Outside the bar, the cops are swarming. The real cops with their pot bellies and sticky fingers have arrived on the scene to tie up loose ends. I just hope they don’t recognize me and feel like harassing an A.S. member. I’m too tired to deal with them and spend a fulfilling night with Sheila. Some girls aren’t into talking but Sheila likes to talk after sex, and I figure it’s the least I can do.

I keep my head down until we reach my car. Sheila doesn’t live that far from the bar so she can walk back to work tomorrow and get it. She only brings the car in when she is going to be working late hours.

Her apartment is one of the few on the first floor. We pull up to just a little before sunrise. Early morning is supposed to be quiet, but the drunks ruin it. I hear someone smashing trash cans in the back alley and pray that, that’s all that’s happening. I would hate for there to be a new murderer or rapist in town when I have folders of others that we haven’t been able to catch yet.

"Watch it," Sheila says coming around the car to help me to the front door. The alcohol is finally hitting me, and it’s hitting hard.

"I’m fine," I say leaning against the door frame to her apartment. She fumbles with her keys and I’m useless to help her find the right one.

When we finally get inside, I’m shocked by how clean it is. When she and I used to see each other there were days when I’d have to help her sort through boxes of clothes and videos. She places her keys on a high table and walks over to the kitchenette attached to the living room. It’s your standard one-bedroom apartment.

"You want some coffee?" She says pouring some hot water into her coral coffee pot. I shake my head, yes, hoping it will sober me up some.

"Cream? Sugar?" She asks peeling off her blue jacket.

"No, I like mine black. You forget more and more about me," I respond pulling my socks and shoes off. She takes off her black boots before coming to sit on the gray couch next to me.

"What’s on TV this late?" I ask picking up the remote.

"I don’t know Jerry Springer or something." She utters pulling her blonde hair down from a loose ponytail.

"You don’t want to watch TV do you?" I say looking into her lush doe eyes.

"No," She says in a whisper, “I don’t.  I kiss her smiling lips, and she kisses me back. Her lips are thick and my lips suck on hers.

She leans back into the couch and I press myself on top of her. Tiny kisses escape my mouth to her neck and ears. In a wave, she leans her lower body into mine yanking off my shirt. Nails scrape along my belly and spine. She almost has the shirt all the way off when it gets caught on my chain, but she just yanks it off. She begins the exploration of my body with tiny manicured nails.

I lift off of her and sit on the couch as she unbuttons her jeans. I unbutton my own jeans and slip them down my legs. She climbs into my lap straddling me still wearing miniature pearl panties. My nails catch her tiny lacy panties as she begins to kiss my shaved neck. When she begins to kiss my ears I feel a moan escape my mouth. My hands find the side of her panties. A ripping noise starts and finishes with my fingers sliding into her wetness.

"That feels good," She moans as she straddles me again but this time panty-less. I push myself gently inside her. Up until this point I’d been reckless. Going as hard as we both want to inside her could be dangerous. She slides down on me and up again as our lips meet mid-air.

"Don’t stop," I say as I feel her thighs beginning to get tired, " Please don’t stop Sheila."

She begins to grow wet all around me and I can feel myself about to explode. The coffee pot is bubbling and she keeps looking at it. I grab her face and tell her to keep her eyes on me. She drives herself harder and faster until she’s at her point. After she goes, I go, and then the coffee pot goes all over the kitchen counter.

"Shit," She jumps off of me," stupid coffee."

I lean back on the couch enjoying the high as she cleans up the hot water. Watching her naked behind makes me almost want to go again. The blush of her lower back is so cute against perfect dimples. She looks just like a fifties pin-up girl.

"Stop staring at me," She says giggling, “no matter what you say, we are not doing it again.”

 I go for the cigarette in my back jean pocket instead. I hold it in my palm; I just want to touch it.

"Don’t smoke that in here," She retorts looking over at me, "you know how I feel about smoke."

"Half the reason you broke up with me last time," I respond smiling and turning on the TV.

"Yeah," She says coming around with two cups of coffee," The other reason being that you dumped me."

"Did not," I protest remembering just how much she cried when I did call it off years ago

"Did too," She says and slides into the spot next to me. She lies against me, and it just feels right. It feels so right that we fall asleep in each other’s arms.