tagNonHumanBark at the Moon Ch. 03

Bark at the Moon Ch. 03

byCrazzyGuy©

Well, well, well, here we are again. Kara and Jason's adventures continue. As always, please read, review, and comment! Oh, and of course, enjoy.

*

Kara woke up next to a warm body. That was different. She didn't question it for the first few moments. She hadn't done that in eons. She blinked her eyes open, and looked down at him. In the morning sunlight, Owen was even more fantastic.

His tanned skin was marked every once in a while with a scar. They weren't all the same. Kara knew from her experience that they were wounds from fights. A few slashes, punctures, and even a gunshot. The scars interrupted the massive overlay of tattoos that sprawled across his torso. From the dragon on his chest to the Celtic knots that sprawled across his arm, the body art he wore was intriguing.

"Males have no right being that sexy." She grumbled. As she sat up, the covers fell away from them, revealing more of his body, from his delicious abs to his delicious manhood. She stared a long moment at his body, and felt a warm little shudder run through her. When did she turn into Kara the Horny Cop?

She sighed, and gazed at him. She'd known him less than a day, but she'd slept with him last night. And with her training officer? That was a big faux pas. What a freaking waste. She'd had the best sexual experience of her life, and here she was, on the morning after freaking out that IAB would totally ruin her if it ever got out.

But even beneath that little worry over Internal Affairs, the fact that she'd slept with a relative stranger, and and the whole deal with her case, she felt lust stirring. Kara desired this man, even past the whole fact that he was a werewolf, older than her, and a total stranger.

"Hell, already screwed." She murmured to herself, and Kara lowered her head. She wrapped her hand around his thick shaft. She stroked it, working her hand from tip to base. A groan came from Owen, and he stirred in his sleep. That only encouraged her. She extended her tongue, and flicked it across the thick purple head of his cock.

That got Owen awake. The burly man shot up from sleep, sitting up. "What the..." He froze when he saw her, licking at him. "Oh, you devil."

"Good morning," Kara purred, and looked up to him. Their eyes connected a moment, and his dark eyes flickered with lust,. Seeing it, and taking that as encouragement, she lowered her mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," Owen moaned, arching his hips up as she slid her mouth down over his shaft. He bobbed her head, sucking and licking. "Kara..."

She looked up, and her lips slid off of his haft, making a little pop as they came free. "Yes?" She smirked.

"We really need to be going into the station." He grunted. "And if you keep doing that, we won't leave here til noon."

"That so bad?" Kara smirked as she sat back, looking up at him.

"It is when we've got a killer to catch." He brought out a hand, cupping her chin. "Come on, let's get you showered up."

***

Jason Archer woke up with a splitting headache. His immediate thought was to wonder what had happened the previous night. Iris Nash, the club, and that...whatever the hell he was, Rico. He'd had a bag put over his head, but after that, it was rather blurry. He supposed someone had knocked him out at some point, because his head rung like a whole monastery of bells.

He blinked his eyes open. He was in a basement, he guessed. Now that was weird. Most buildings in San Francisco didn't have basements. In a city known for its earthquakes, that was tempting fate.

His hands weren't bound, which was a surprise. His legs were shaky, so he didn't try standing. He'd been dumped, rather unceremoniously, on the floor. Jason wanted to instinctively call out for help, but he knew that someone had to have been guarding outside, waiting for him to wake. He looked around. There was a small window that brought light in. He couldn't hear anything in particular, so he wondered if he was just in a quiet neighborhood.

The room itself was empty, with a concrete floor. Someone had laid out a blanket for him to lay on, but apart from that, there was nothing very interesting about the room.

Seeing that he wasn't going to learn anything else now, he called out. "Hello? Anyone here?"

He waited a minute, and the door opened. Iris Nash strode in, walking down the steps into the basement. Jason had been able to bring himself up to his knees, at least, by then.

"Good morning, Jason." The auburn-haired woman was wearing sunglasses again. She apparently hadn't changed since the previous night. "Nice to see you awake. Tell me, how are you?"

He shot her as mean a glance as he could muster. Which, in his current state, wasn't much. "I've been freaking kidnapped. How do you think I am?"

"Well, I suppose that I do owe you an explanation." She brushed back her jacket, revealing two holsters. One of them was a pistol, another a taser. "By the way, just in case you get any ideas. I won't kill you, and as much as I hate to damage a perfect specimen of man like yourself, I'll taser you. Capiesch?" He nodded. "Good. Now, let's begin. Do you know what Rico is?"

Jason nodded again. "I've been on the reporting beat long enough to know about the dirty little secret of the Arcane community." He'd always wanted to tell Kara about that, but he'd never know how to break it to her. I mean, how did you tell someone that the supernatural was real? Kara would have probably laughed at him, and told him that one of his coworkers was just a pothead who had seen something funny. "Rico's a vampire."

She smiled. "Very god. And I'm a werewolf, for reference's sake." She said. "But you didn't pick up on that. Interesting. But, then again, I suppose you wouldn't have. No, not with your little...difficulty."

"Difficulty?" Jason then stood, forcing his knees not to give. "What the hell do you mean?"

"You really don't know, do you?" She murmured. 'Fascinating."

"What?" He shook his head. "What don't I know?"

"You're a reporter." Iris looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. "You never looked into your parents?"

Now Jason wished he had his gun. "Don't talk about my parents." He snapped. "You shut your mouth."

"You don't know..." Iris snickered. "Honey, your parents, they were one of us."

Jason lunged forward. He was hurt, tired, and off his game. But rage let him fly anyways. Iris side-stepped him, and she was behind him in a moment. She pinned him against the wall of the basement. He could feel her teeth at his neck, scraping against the skin.

"I'm saying, Jason, that your momma and daddy were fucking weres." She growled. "In fact, your daddy was an alpha wolf, one of the roughest around."

He shook his head. "No, no, that's not possible. This whole shit's genetic. If they were shapeshifters, I would be too."

A laugh bubbled from Iris. "Yea, that's usually the case. But, for some reason, you got a little bug in the genetics. For some reason, you didn't get the puppy genes. See, here, my employer wants that power. New weres are hard to come by."

"And what do you get out of this?" I asked. "Seriously, what's he paying you? I've got some stashed away."

Iris's voice was just a whisper in his ear, but it scared the living crap out of him. "Why, Jason, it's you." She flipped him around, pinning his back to the wall. She took off her sunglasses. Her green eyes flashed, boring into his with a primal sort of energy. "He's paying me with you."

"That's just sick." Jason whispered. "What the hell is so special about me?"

"Mama and Papa Archer were very special." She said. "You have a lot of potential buried away. I want to control that."

Jason fumed. He'd been powerless for most of his childhood. Orphaned, only a fierce protective instinct had saved him from being separated from his sister in foster care. When he'd become independent, he'd told himself he'd never be controlled by anyone ever again. And here this bitch was, wanting to take that away.

Jason kneed her in the stomach. A guy didn't usually think of that. It was a woman's move, but Jason wasn't above the move. Women wouldn't expect that, ever. Iris bowled over, clutching at her stomach.

Taking the opportunity, Jason ran to the stairs. Wherever this led, it was better than the basement, and all the horror. He ran up to the door, and opened it up. He was in a small house, he guessed, from the linoleum beneath his feet, in a hallway at the back of the house. He rushed down the hallway, into a kitchen. It was dirty, unmaintained. He guessed that it was some sort of place to grill people, used by mobs, or whoever.

He ran from the kitchen to the front door, which he spied at the end of another hallway. But before he could take three more steps, he felt something akin to a freight train slam into him, knocking him down to the floor.

"You won't escape me that easily." He felt Iris's athletic body pressing into his back. "I'm not someone who isn't used to getting what she wants.

Struggling did Jason very little good. "I'm not going to be a part of this. I've had enough of this twisted game!"

"This is no game." Jason heard the click of something metallic behind him. Before he could even try to look over his shoulder, the metallic click and cold sensation of metal were around his wrists. "You fucking handcuffed me?" He snarled.

"Oh, don't worry, not for long, not if this works." She lifted off of him, and Jason immediately started to thrash, trying to turn himself over.

By the time he could, he saw what 'this' precisely was. Iris was standing over him, with a syringe in her hand. He shuddered, instinctively knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't be good. "What...what the hell is that?"

"A little cocktail my employer supplied me with. It's a unique cocktail, a potion actually, made by some witch. The best way to describe is as an...Arcane booster. I give you my happy little friend here, and well, some of that latent therianthropy will come to bloom."

Jason thrashed even harder. Iris would have none of it. She forced him back down onto his back, leaving the two of them staring at each other. She leaned down, so their faces nearly touched. Jason tried biting at her face.

"Feisty, so feisty." She purred. "Your beast is magnificent, and it's still latent." The needle pressed against his skin. "Don't worry, love, it'll begin soon." She chuckled. "This will hurt like fucking hell."

It did. The needle felt like a lance of fire, boring into his arm. He wasn't a stranger to needles. He'd been in the hospital before. But this seemed so wrong, so terrible. He could feel the solution, whatever it was, boring into his body, burning him, changing him.

Jason screamed, a cry of pain. He didn't know how it was he didn't black out. He went through a number of stages. Crying, whimpering, roaring, shouting. He could feel just the slightest changers, in his musculature, in his bones.

The worst change was in his mind. Inside, he could feel something, almost like a second heart beating with his. In his head, it was instincts, howling at him to fight, to escape. It was a spirit that was untamed, unruled by any set of laws but survival and instinct. It burrowed into his mind, as if it was trying to change him, how he thought, how he looked at the world.

At some point in this process, he felt his wrists, scraping against his shackles. The cuffs cut into his arms, biting and gnashing at his flesh. But then, suddenly, he heard a snap. The tension of the cuffs was gone, though he could feel the metal still against his wrists. They no longer scratched at him, though.

The beast took the lead, and Jason just hung along for the ride. He lunged off the ground at Iris, knocking her onto her back. He moved with a speed, a beautiful violence, that he'd never imagined before.

He pinned her down to the floor by her shoulders. The handcuffs dangled from his wrists, the chain between them shattered. Iris had a look of pleasure, of accomplishment, in her forest green eyes. "YES!" She laughed. "It's glorious."

Iris overpowered him, pushing with a strength that he knew was from her own beast. They fumbled on the ground for a long moment until they rolled onto the carpet of the living room. They both scratched, punched, and hit each other as best as they could.

It ended with Iris on top of him. Jason tried to lift his head up to head butt her, but as he did. She grabbed the back of his neck. "You are a feisty man," She growled. "I love it."

Before Jason could respond, she kissed him. Her lips crushed to his, and a sensation of lust poured through him. His entire body seemed to respond to the kiss, not the fact that he'd been fighting her just a second ago. He felt his jeans grow uncomfortably tight, arousal stirring him.

When she broke the kiss, he growled. "The fuck has gotten into you?" He hissed. "You psycho,"

"You bet." She chuckled. "Come on, tell me that there isn't a part of you that doesn't absolutely want it."

The worst part was, Jason knew he couldn't say it. The beast, the newly formed part of him, wanted nothing more than payback in the most primal, primitive way it could manage. And Jason really didn't want to admit it. "Fuck you." He said.

"That's the idea." She purred. "Again and again. I told you I wanted you, Jason."

They kissed again, and this time Jason didn't fight it. Her tongue pushed against his mouth, and he let it enter. Their tongues twisted, dueling with each other.

Reason left Jason's mind, and his hands grabbed at her sides. His hands grasped at the material of her shirt, pulling on it.

Her shirt came up and her toned stomach came into his view. Jason had to admit, she was gorgeous. She wore a black bra, cupping her round breasts. Her body was lean, athletic. He kissed her again, and again their tongues attacked each other.

Her hands grabbed at his shirt, unbuttoning it fast. They pulled at each other's clothes. She tossed his shirt away, and he worked at her pistol belt. For a moment, only a fleeting one, did he think about going for the pistol or the tazer.

Iris unbuttoned her jeans, and together, they worked them off her long legs. "That's it," Iris said, her voice still in a purr.

"Shut up," He grunted, and he rolled them over, so he was on top of her. He slid a hand between her thighs, and found her bare sex there. "No panties, why am I not surprised?"

"Makes me feel all naughty." She sneered.

Jason worked his belt off, and then pulled his pants down. Iris didn't want to wait, and she grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against her with his jeans around his legs. "Christ," He grunted.

Iris's hips rocked against him, and they ground hips against each other. "Want you in me." She murmured.

He was more than glad to oblige. Jason took himself in hand, and guided himself into her. She was warm, tight, wet. "Fuck," He growled.

"Yea," Iris moaned, and her hands gripped his hips, pulling him down.

Jason didn't want any nice foreplay. He started to thrust, driving himself into her. Their eyes met, and he saw hers, burning with lust.

She rocked her hips back, and they started into a fast, hungry pace. She leaned her head up, nipping at his chest. Those nips, as Jason started to grab her hands and pin them above her head, quickly turned to full bites.

Skin slapped against skin, and Jason pounded into her with reckless abandon. He thrust again and again, each as fantastic as the last.

Iris slowly started to relax, her hips becoming the only part of her body that moved. Every thrust drew a whimper, a growl, or a purr from her.

Jason knew he hated this woman for what she'd done. She'd lied to him, stabbed him in the back, and done something to him he couldn't even begin to describe. But even still, he couldn't help but feel at least an animal lust from her. What the fuck is wrong with me? He asked himself.

And then, like someone answering, the beast inside of him spoke. Asserting. He was taking revenge in the way of the jungle. He was asserting his dominance, in the way a male took a female.

Even if he wasn't paying any particular attention to her pleasure, Iris's moans slowly grew shorter, higher. Her breath hitched several times, and finally, in a long, wordless moan, she climaxed. Her pussy spasmed, wrapping around him and milking his cock's length.

Jason knew he wouldn't last much longer than that. He tossed his head back, grunts falling from his throat in rough, excited sounds. His climax was glorious, exploding in him with delicious pleasure. His balls clenched, and his cock spurted long and hard into her, filling her.

Iris's hips clenched around his waist, and she started to pant in his ear. "I was right...so right."

And Jason knew in that instant, he was in way over his head.

***

Kara and Owen-she thought of him as Owen now- drove up to the station. They'd gotten a cap, gotten Owen's car back, and driven to the precinct. The two of them hadn't talked much, but Kara's mind was racing. What would the other cops think of them coming in at the same time? Was she going to do the walk of shame in front of the detective's floor?

"How do you take your coffee?" Owen asked as they parked in the lot.

"My coffee?" She arched an eyebrow. "Uh, lots of milk and foo'foo'ed up."

"All right." He smirked, and that smirk sent a shiver down Kara's spine, in a fantastic way. "I'm going to go grab coffee for us, and I'll be in about ten. Save us from the awkwardness. That all right?"

She chuckled. This man was fantastic, really. "All right. I'll be seeing you then."

They parted ways, and Kara headed into the statino. She'd dressed a bit slightly less professionally than she had yesterday, and replaced her shoes with flats. If it had been up to her, she'd have worn boots, but that was a bit unbecoming of a detective.

She headed up to the detective's floor, and booted up her computer. She started looking over the files that the ME's office had came through, and noticed an email from the tech department. She read it, and saw that the guys with glasses had popped into her email. They'd found a number of emails from a newsletter for a club in town, Nox, as well as a few from friends in San Francisco.

She memorized the two names that also mentioned Nox; Rebecca Lin, Kyle Quinn.

"Is Owen Reese in?" A male voice brought her out from her deep train of thought. She looked up. The man in front of her must have been from Ad Vice, she was sure of it. Detectives didn't look like they were gangbangers. He had tanned skin, but light enough that she guessed he was Hispanic, not Latino. He wore a black muscle tee, jeans, and wore his badge and holster on his belt. He had a single tattoo on his arm, which Kara guessed was military in origin.

And the man was built. He was stacked like Owen was, and he had dark, intense features. His brown eyes scanned her. Kara thought it was rather odd, though, that the man did absolutely nothing for her. Maybe her reawakened libido had been sated. Maybe there was just something about him.

"Uh, no," She said. "You are?"

He laughed. "Sorry, forgot. You're Owen's new partner, right?" He extended a hand. "Zach Santiago. I'm one of the other Major Case detectives."

"Serious?" She laughed. "You look like a vice cop."

A laugh escaped Santiago. "Yea, I was. I was one of the first guys to get dragged into this circus."

Owen's voice came from behind him. "Because everyone else wanted you tossed to the fishes of IAB."

Zach smiled, and turned around to face Owen. He was holding two coffees in his hand, one of which he set in front of Kara.

"Yea, well, at least I get to use my unique talents. Vice had no appreciation." Santiago smirked.

"And what exactly do you do?" Kara asked, blowing on her coffee before taking a sip.

"Santiago here is our Arcane specialist." Owen lowered his voice to the 'Major Case' volume, which he seemed to do whenever he didn't want to hear the goings-on, weird as they were, about their department. "He's a witch."

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