The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

The first body was a man dressed in boxer shorts, lying halfway into the hall. The bullet had passed through the Marlboro logo on his ballcap and his brains were splattered on the doorframe behind him. There were no powder burns on his forehead, so the shooter had to be at least three feet away. There was a stick poking into the doorframe, showing the path of the bullet. It was pointed at the center of the hallway, and down at about a ten-degree angle. Looking behind him, the bed was messed up and it smelled like stale beer and sex. “One of the Johns, maybe heard something and poked his head out?”

“Yeah, he was a real upstanding citizen with a penchant for underage pussy. The girl found in the room was thirteen.”

“Clean shot, better than he deserved,” I said. “Shooter is in the hall…” I moved until I was facing the victim, right hand up, moving along the line of the shot. I was six-foot-four, and if I raised the gun to sight it, I was shooting at a very shallow angle. I moved to the center of the hall and bent my knees until the gun lined up with the stick. “This can’t be right, unless the shooter is under five feet tall,” I said. Moving closer and to the right, my knees straightened slightly. Knowing it was at least a three-foot shop, I found myself on the right side of the hallway, at a height of five-two to five-seven. “Shooter is short and may have had someone to their left.”

“Interesting. All right, moving on to the lucky couple.” We walked a few more doors down, and the smell of blood was overpowering. Dirk was slumped against the wall, his throat torn open, and Peggy was sprawled across his legs. I moved around them carefully; Peggy had been hit between the eye, the back of her head blown across the wall. The stick was just above the baseboard.

“She was over him when she was hit,” I said. When the back of the head is hit, all motor function ceases and the victim drops like a sack of potatoes. I did the same exercise with firing heights. “It makes sense for them to be on the right side of the hallway, and that confirms a height of about five-six. I think anyone over six foot can be excluded, there just isn’t enough room to fire at that angle.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“What do you think killed him?”

I put on gloves and leaned over to get a good look. As soon as I got close, I could smell her scent on him, and I froze.

My mate search had just gotten a lot more interesting and dangerous. My mate was a killer and a hell of a shot, with blonde hair and going about five foot six. There was no way I was going to let on to them they were looking for a she-wolf.

I looked closely at the wound, knowing from experience in the Packs what it was. She had shifted her hand, grabbing him with her claws and slicing through his neck like soft cheese. “Looks like multiple sharp points, like one of those bear claw things that you see kung fu guys with? What a mess.” His throat had been laid open, and blood was everywhere.

“Where is the last victim?”

“A few more doors down.” I could have led him there just by following her scent, and the scent of the human female she was with. It was another prostitution room, reeking of sex and sweat. The victim was nude, lying on his back on the far side of the bed. The bullet had struck him in the left temple and exited the back of his head.

“Nice fucking shooting,” I said. “Three for three on head shots with someone else’s gun?”

“Yeah, our killer is good.”

“A pro,” I said. “I don’t care how close you are, that’s amazing shooting.” I looked at him again. “So, we have our two ringleaders dead in brutal fashion, and two dead johns. The one in the hall looked out in the hall when he shouldn’t have, but this guy was banging a chick when someone kicks the door in.”

“Yeah, and it’s not easy to kick open one of these doors,” he said. I looked at the frame, it had been splintered. A werewolf could do it in one kick, taking out the multiple latches would be more difficult for a human.

“What do we know about this guy?”

“Local guy, deacon in his church, suburban home and blue-collar job. No priors.”

I smelled the bed and pillow and the human’s scent was strong in it. Whoever she was, my mate had come here to get her out, then had taken her down to her room. She was either stupid or smart, and I wasn’t betting on stupid. “So, based on what I’ve seen, we should be looking for a professional killer who is about five-foot-six and came to get this woman. She’s the one who is missing, right?”

He nodded. “How did you know?”

“Because the killer ignored the girls in the other rooms and came right to this one. If the dead guy wasn’t the target, the woman was.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. They took the wrong person, because hiring someone with that skill level isn’t cheap. Whoever she is, her parents are rich or connected, and I’m betting on connected.”

“Come on, we need to talk to my boss.”

I followed behind him, trying to figure out what to do next. I needed to talk to my father; there were things I knew about the shooter that only he could know about.

I spent another three hours on-scene, working with Detective Anders as the bodies were moved and the scene was processed. I talked to the officers who had done the canvassing and got a description of the women in the room on the third floor. “She was a hottie,” he told me. “About this high,” he held his hand at my shoulder height, “Looked like a gymnast or dancer, even in the middle of the night she had a perkiness to her. Blonde hair past the shoulders. Her sister I didn’t get a good look at, but she was blonde too.”

I had an idea and pulled out my phone. Going to the messages from my father, I scrolled up until I got to the picture that had been sent out with the reward from the Council. It was a surveillance photograph taken on Alpha Kenyon’s land before he was killed. I made it full screen. “Was this her?”

He looked at it and his eyes got wide. “Yeah, definitely her. Such an innocent face, you just don’t forget a girl who looks like that.”

“Thanks.” I walked outside, I really needed to talk to my Dad, and I needed to do this in person.

My mate was the Alpha Killer, and the Council wanted her dead.