Cynthia's Moon Ch. 05

"Just as well; you're out of milk and damn near everything else. I'll run to the store and be back as soon as I can. Enjoy your bath, because I have a surprise in mind when I return."

Bridget was down by the closed cafe between the consulate and Cynthia's condo where she waited for the last couple of nights for Markus to come out. Long, fucking nights. Yes, she was quite sure there was a lot of fucking going on, which heated her blood the more she waited. By the third night, she was seething to her boiling point, and opened her phone to dial a number.

"It's me, you need to come here and finish what you started."

She wasn't quite sure if it was coincidence, or if he had been waiting all this time, but her contact stepped out of the car across the street that she had barely paid attention to. The door closed and the heavy steps of Vincent approached Bridget, closing his phone without another word. She closed her phone and huffed lightly.

"They're both in there now. I'm sure you could catch the two of them off guard."

"I'm sure I could," he answered in a surly tone.

"Then get in there."

"No." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and a manilla envelope was handed back to her, "I'm not doin' that to him. It's one thing to catch a wolf off guard, but to strike at him when he is marking his woman is just low."

Bridget glared at him, her mouth agape with disbelief that this hitman had morals.

"This is all your fault anyway! You could have fucked her or killed her and she would have been a non-factor in my plans for Markus and me! If I have to, I'll go there myself. Yes, that's what I should do, since you're obviously not the wolf for the job."

She turned on heel to walk away. She was trying to make him take the job once more and it wasn't going to work. She felt a sharp grasp on her bicep and her stomach weak with nausea as she was spun halfway into a brick wall, face first. Slumping down to the ground with pain wracking her body, Vincent seized her hair and grasped it carelessly. Walking around the corner, it was the alley that started it all. Bridget was disoriented, finally grasping what was happening as she began to struggle.

"Let go of m-" A firm backhand across her jaw, the copper taste of her blood filled her mouth and her body was hunched over. From this position, his precise movement drove his knee into her stomach, forcing the air out of her lungs as she collapsed to the ground.

"Did you know the werewolf can tolerate four times the pain a human can? Even gunshot wounds. Of course, those who are turned are a little more susceptible. Let's see how high your tolerance is." Vincent educated her while she was curled into a ball of pain, coughing for breath. Metal scraped against the uneven ground of the alley, flaring her senses to shift.

He knew it was coming, he expected her to shift. Her skin ripped in several spots as off-white fur was beneath it. That four foot pipe in Vincent's possession was brought overhead and slammed down the middle of her back as she was shifting.

She whimpered aloud in pain, dropping to the floor of the alley once more as her transformation fizzled, taking with it a great deal of energy. Turning onto her side, she looked up at him in horror, her left hand stretched out.

"NO!"

Her forearm broke, almost wrapping around the bar when she blocked it from hitting her skull. She cried out in pain feeling the bone and flesh sear with hurt that surged through her. He didn't give her time to recover before the metal bar was brought down on her hip, her shoulder, then the back of her head. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the pain seemed to overcome her will to react.

Throwing the metal to the ground with a sharp pinging clatter, he moved to crouch over her. She was barely conscious, and he whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, Cynthia will be out of the picture, but not for your reason. I have no problems telling you the plan, because who are you going to tell?" He tilted his head. "Markus? You really think Markus will listen to anything you have to say, let alone anyone when they realize you hired and flew in a hit man to kill a Senior Alpha's daughter?"

Bridget held on as long as she could, even with the point he made, she wanted to hold on to tell someone. Coughing up some blood, her body throbbed with pain and bruising already forming. Her left arm was limp across her chest as she breathed raggedly.

"Oh yes, she wasn't a nobody like you thought, Bridget. In fact, she's a very important somebody, and my new employer would like her brought to him alive. So while you're lying here in your last few moments before I render you unconscious, consider that if you have to share the truth about what happened to her, people will want to know how you know, and what will you tell them, hm?"

He grinned and leaned down, getting close to her. She cowered involuntarily to his nearness and he placed a light kiss to her temple.

"Can you smell him?"

She wasn't trying to smell anything, but over the scent of her own blood there was old death. She thought she was dying for a moment and turned her head to look toward the entrance of the alleyway and saw a pale man standing, wearing a solid black suede boat, with a high collar and his hair was gelled back into a perfect blonde shell of hair. His eyes were blood red and feral as they stared upon her, and he stood just in front of them, shielding the event of her attack from public view.

"Not the most pleasant to smell, I know," Vincent grinned and rose up from the body of the fallen Bridget. The pale man snorted lightly.

"As if the smell of dog is any more appealing," The rigid tone bit back at Vincent. "Finish her. I'm growing bored with this."

Vincent nodded and rose up from over Bridget's body and shifted himself to the side of her.

A step forward, he threw his steel-toed foot at her right temple. Her body limped on the ground and he looked overhead at the moon.

"The full moon passes tonight. They'll emerge tomorrow sometime," Vincent said softly.

"We're putting our trust into you, Vincent. Do not forget that your blood is thicker with us than it is with them." The youthful man's voice reminded him gently.

"I'll do my part. Have everything ready."

To be continued...