They were coming for me. There was no stopping them anymore. There was no stopping the raised goosebumps over my skin as they howled behind me. No more outrunning as I tripped over the roots of a tree again and again. No more air in my lungs as their claws came down on me. They ripped through my ribs as if they were paper, yellowed teeth gnashing at my throat. There was nothing more I could say or do. I couldn't push the thing off of my chest, their gigantic paws were so heavy now. There was nothing left to do other than die.
I shot up in the cheap motel bed I'd been sleeping in, a scream still raw in my throat. My hands came up, tracing over my clammy skin as I checked quickly for any cuts, gashes, or teeth marks. Of course, there were none, it had been nothing more than the same nightmare I had had for weeks now.
I flopped back down onto the cool sheets, my heart still beating quickly as I tried to catch my breath. I turned my head just enough to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was three AM. I had been asleep for an hour. I groaned, looked back up at the ceiling, and tried to count down from ten as another shaky breath left me.
These nightmares. These glimpses of my future. They were why, three months ago, I had packed up everything I owned and left Dean and John at a motel in Chicago. It had been hard to leave Dean. Hard to stop by Bobby's on my way through, get a new set of IDs, and ditch the only cell phone I had ever had. Harder to know that Dean might never forgive me for it. But there was no way I was going to let him see me die like that. So, I ran with every last cent to New York City. Far enough away I knew he wouldn't find me before I was dead and gone. Bobby had promised not to say anything either, though I wasn't sure how good that promise would be once Dean got to him.
But none of that mattered right now. Not as I got out of bed and ran a cold shower to wake up more. Not as I slipped into the only clean pair of clothes I had, some worn black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a mostly clean red flannel, and out the door into the muggy July night air.
There was something different about going down to a dive bar in the middle of the night. It was like everyone inside knew only the lowest came out at this hour, and none of them cared anymore. I had been coming in almost every night since I'd gotten into town, so the bartender was quick to turn his back to the bar and have a drink ready for me. I nodded as he slid it across the bar and handed him a twenty.
"Keep it for the tab, Johnny," I said before the cool glass was at my lips.
The sweet taste of honeyed whiskey hit my tongue and instantly warmed it. I could feel it starting to numb my veins as it slid down my throat. The warm burn was almost comforting as I finished the glass.
"Rough night?" Johnny asked. He was a taller man, maybe six foot even. His blonde hair was slicked back, and his malachite green eyes always held more questions than he asked. He wasn't much older than me, and if it wasn't for the fact he was already married, I could've seen myself in his bed already.
"You could say that," I said, crossing my arms on top of the bar after sliding the glass back to him.
"You ever gonna tell me what exactly it is you do for work?" He asked, refilling and sliding the glass back to me.
"You know I can't." I smiled at him, he had been trying to figure it out since the first night I came in. By now he probably thought I was some government agent or something top secret.
Johnny chuckled and shook his head. "At least tell me why you're in tonight, then. I could use a good story."
I rolled my eyes. That's what I'd become to him, nothing more than a bar regular full of 'stories'. If only he knew how true some of them were. "I had another nightmare." I shrugged, raised the glass to my lips, and worshipped the numbing taste.
"Oh ya? Was it another monster hunt gone wrong?" He teased.
"You have another customer, Johnny." I had noticed the other man who sat across the bar when I'd first come in, but now his eyes were on me. "Don't need him thinking you have favorites."
I glanced at the man as Johnny walked over to check on him. He stuck out in this kind of environment. He couldn't have been much older than twenty-five, clean-shaven, wearing a crisp black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, and a blood-red tie around his neck. The dark color stood in contrast to his pale skin, though it didn't clash. Rather it made him look older, maybe untouchable. A black jacket was draped across the back of the chair he sat straight in. He had black hair, cut short and slicked back neatly. His eyes were a piercing shark grey, and they studied me, even as Johnny talked to him. I watched those eyes drop to my lips as I took another sip from my glass.
"He wants to buy you a round," Johnny said as he came back to me.
"He can buy the next several if he really wants to. I plan on being here a while." I said, my attention returning to the bartender.
"I can ask…"
"No need." The man's voice was lower than I had expected and heavily accented. "I don't mind."
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he sat next to me now, lips pulled up in a devilish smirk.
"Thanks," I said as I put the glass back onto the bar. "You're not from around here."
The man laughed. "What made it obvious? The accent, or nicer clothing than most of the patrons here?"
"The money you wave around like you can't spend it fast enough." I nodded to Johnny and he filled the glass once again. "That could get you killed this time of night."
"I assure you, I can both take care of myself and don't mind spending my money on a pretty woman." The man smiled at me.
I smiled back. He was handsome enough and was willing to buy me drinks. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to spend time with him. At least one night wouldn't be horrible.
"What's your name, England?" I asked, watching as he asked Johnny for another drink as well.
"Is that how all American women are? Brash and quick?" He asked, grey eyes studying me again.
"I don't know. Are all British men so forward and haughty?" I asked, teasing him lightly.
The man chuckled softly, "Arthur."
I looked him over again. There was no hint of a lie in those gray eyes. No hint of a half-truth in the smile he gave me. If that was his real name, then there was no way he was from around here. And no way he knew the life of a monster hunter. We would never trust a new person that openly.
"Meg." I offered the lie as I brought the glass to my lips again. And the man, Arthur, nodded. "What are you doing on this side of the world? If I can ask."
Arthur squinted and pursed his lips, "I'm not sure I can say it without seeming…not quite sane."
I laughed softly. "You must have interesting stories then."
"You have no idea." He motioned for Johnny again. "I could tell you over another drink."
"Oh really?" I questioned, turning to him slightly. "Are you expecting me to share one or two in exchange?"
Arthur shrugged. "If you want to. However, I do prefer to not be the only one talking about myself. Just the check please." Johnny nodded and walked off again. "Makes me seem like quite the ass for showing off."
I scoffed. "I thought you wanted another drink?"
"I didn't say it had to be here." The smirk on his face was smooth as the words came off his tongue.
I studied him once more and took a small breath through my nose. There was no hint of sulfur. If anything, the space around us now smelled lightly of pine, the honeyed whiskey we'd both been drinking, and gunpowder. If this was some trap they had set for me, some way to cash in on my deal a month early, then it was a convincing one.
"Where did you have in mind, double-oh-seven?" I gestured to Johnny for my tap as he started back towards us, and watched the older man turn on his heels to retrieve it.
"I have a nice suite I've been paying for while I'm in town. It's a few blocks from here." He stood from the bar chair effortlessly, as if it was a trained motion. He was tall. Probably around six feet.
"I don't know if I'm classy enough to pass for a 'suite'," I said, gesturing at myself and the clothing I wore.
Arthur smiled at me, something just as effortless and trained as the way he had stood. "They won't say anything if you're with me."
I looked back across the bar at Johnny again. He stood behind the bar, watching the exchange as if it were his favorite new TV show. We made eye contact and he shrugged, then laid both tabs on the counter.
"You were paying, right?" I asked, downing the last of the liquor.
The place was beyond stunning. And there was no way I would ever step foot into something this nice ever again. And not just because I only had a month left to live.
Every ounce of my being felt out of place here. Even stepping out of the beat-up piece of shit car I had borrowed from Bobby had felt like a violation in the parking lot. And now, taking a step into a room dressed in black and framed with deep browns and creams richer than anything I'd seen before, it felt like a dream. I almost immediately apologized to the beautiful marble floors for stepping on them with my mud-covered and worn-out combat boots. And knew I would never touch the caramel-colored couch that sat along one wall of windows. I'd probably find a way to break it.
I stood in the doorway, staring at the tall windows that framed the neon lights against the New York City skyline, and trying to ignore the knot in my gut. I felt like an ink stain on a pure white dress. There was nothing for me here.
"You can make yourself comfortable, you know," Arthur said, pulling me from my delusion as he leaned against a set of black and white spiral stairs. His eyes danced as he stared at me, no doubt laughing internally at my reaction.
"I'm not sure I can," I admitted with a nervous laugh. "I thought the woman at the front counter was going to call the cops on me. I can only imagine she thought I was stalking you."
He laughed. "I'm sure she thought nothing of the sort."
Arthur nodded towards the stairs before he started up them. After a few seconds of hesitant silence, I followed him. They climbed up through and up through the beautifully carved ceiling and into another living space. This one was dressed in brighter colors than the first. Two gray sofas rounded out an area around a black glass coffee table. The cool night air shifted through cream-colored curtains that framed two separate doorways leading out to a large terrace.
"How much money do you have?" I asked before my mind could catch the words.
But Arthur laughed again. "More than I know what to do with."
I blushed lightly. "I'm sorry. I've never…" I tried to swallow the nerves that had suddenly built in my chest. How had I thought this would be a good idea? "I should go…I don't…"
I jumped when his hand gently grabbed my arm. "You belong wherever you want to." He said gently, a kind smile on his face. "At least have that one last drink with me."
I looked into those stone grey eyes and the mercury that danced in the cracks and sighed. "One drink."
His smile widened to something almost boyish. Or maybe it was the light in his eyes that made him look younger. Either way, I found myself once again smiling back at him. And it was an easy smile, the first effortless expression I'd had in months.
I let him lead me just past the living space, into an adjacent room that was just as stunning as all the ones before. The walls here were made of lighter brown wood, framed in white accents turned peachy by the warm lights. Three recesses in the wall held pieces of artwork I had no names for, and golden vases filled with wildflowers. Along the back wall was a black marble bar top, the wall behind it filled with shelves of expensive alcohol and spirits. I took to one of the bar stools that sat along the edge as Arthur rounded the bar. It was comfier than any bar stool I had ever sat on before. Granted, I had never been in a thousand-dollar bar before.
"So you said you have some interesting stories?" I asked as I watched him pull two crystal rock glasses from below the counter.
"I said you wouldn't think of me as sane if I told you." Arthur chuckled lightly as he turned his back to me, examining the shelf of liquor.
"Trust me, I've probably heard crazier." I huffed, crossing my arms on top of the cold marble. "You'll have to try pretty hard to convince me you're insane or somethin'."
Arthur was quiet for a second as if he was thinking of what to tell before he turned back around. A bottle of honey-colored liquid was in his hand. I tried to read the label, but it was in some language I didn't recognize.
"You'll have to excuse my 'expensive tastes'." He joked as he poured it into the glasses. "As for stories, what would you like to hear first?"
"What have you got to offer?" I asked as I reached for one of the glasses.
I brought it to my lips and took a small drink of the alcohol. There was no question in my mind that it was whiskey just from the taste alone. But there was almost no bitterness, nothing that burned down the back of my throat like fire. This was warm, sweet, and almost smokey.
"Well," Arthur started. "I could tell you about the time I cornered a vampire in the back alleys of London, or maybe…"
I almost choked on my next sip as the word left his mouth. "A what?"
His gray eyes danced with a mischief I was all too familiar with in newer hunters. "You've seen one." It wasn't a question.
"You're a hunter." I made my statement as I looked him over again.
There was no way someone this well dressed. This is refined and dignified. No way someone this wealthy and posh was a hunter.
His nose crinkled at the word. "I prefer the term 'executioner of the supernatural', but yes. I would be referred to as a 'hunter' in the States."
I laughed. Threw my head back and laughed. "Right. Now I need to know the craziest thing you've seen."
Arthur's smile grew almost wicked like I had challenged him. "Only if you give me yours in turn."
The rest of the night was filled with stories and tales of the things we had seen and done. He told me about the time a Wendigo had stowed away on a cargo ship and eaten nearly an entire ship and her crew before he had burned it to a crisp. So I told him about the time Dean and I had run into a small pack of shapeshifters in Wyoming, though I made sure to change Dean's name.
Arthur pulled up one of his sleeves and showed me a long white scar that ran from his shoulder halfway down his bicep. He told me about how he had gotten it while on a hunt for a werewolf in Dartmoor, and not even from the monster itself. He had tripped over a tree root while chasing it through the moorlands and cut it as he'd rolled down the hillside.
I laughed a little at that, before pulling up a pant leg and exposing a neat line of white scars on the back of my calf. It was a great feeling to watch him laugh as I retold the story of how I had gotten them. Pinned to the top of a rusty old fence because a ghoul had charged me while I'd chased it through a junkyard.
And there was something, as the night dragged on and the sun slowly started to peak over the city streets, that almost made me forget everything else. Almost made me forget that I was going to die. Something that almost made me regret the deal in the first place. Something that made it feel right to have one drink turn into three. Something that almost made me wish for this moment to drag on for a little while longer.
"I should be getting back to the motel I've been staying in," I said, letting the laughter of another story die down a bit. "I'm sure you have better things to do than stay up all night with some nobody."
"Why don't you stay here?" He offered. "I have an extra space you can stay in. Or there might be a few more scars I could show you."
It was enough of a sentence to make me look up and over the rim of my glass. I studied those gray eyes and the hint of lust that danced in them.
"There might be a few more I could show you too," I answered, putting the glass back onto the counter and standing from the bar stool.
It wasn't hard to follow him out of the room, back through the living area that was now golden orange in the rising sun, and down a short hallway to a bedroom. I was once again blown away by the sheer beauty of it all. From the wooden maroon walls accented with gold and black. To the pearl white bed that I felt would disintegrate under my blackened touch. But he was a hunter too, he had to know how to felt to see things like this. I could only imagine how hard he had worked to get to this point.
"There's a master bath just through the door there. If you need a moment, that is." Arthur said, his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.
I chuckled softly at him, taking a few steps toward where he stood on the other side of the bed. "I don't think I've ever had such a formal invitation to fuck before."
He smiled sheepishly and laughed. "You could consider me old-fashioned, I guess. I'm not sure I've ever met another like yourself."
"Am I the first state-side woman you've had the pleasure of meeting?" I asked, taking another few steps towards him. I was going to ignore that this was the first time I'd been in anyone else's bed in months. "We can be a little intimidating."
Arthur straightened a bit, eyes narrowing. "You are not my first 'adventure', if that's what you're after."
I was close enough now that I grabbed onto his belt and tugged him closer by the hips. His hands instinctively found mine as I pulled. "I wasn't implying that at all. Though you are my first from 'across the pond', and maybe things are done differently there." His face was inches from mine now, cheeks dusted pink and gray eyes growing wide. "But, I can show you how we do things here. How 'hunters' do things."
It almost took me by surprise then, when my back was hitting the too-soft, white sheets and he towered over me. And I smiled when his leg came up and pushed under my knee and against my thigh, effectively sliding my legs apart.
Now with him there between them, he dipped his head and kissed me. It wasn't anything I was used to. Not the rough, sloppy, or hurried kiss of other hunters I knew. This was smooth and practiced. Still hungry and needy, but held back and willing to be patient. There was no rough tongue being shoved into my mouth. Instead, every action seemed as if he was asking for permission before acting. Waiting for little signs that I was allowing him to continue. It was easy to let one of my hands slip into his hair and leave the other against his hip. To encourage him to keep going.
It caught me off guard when his lips left mine and found the beating pulse in my neck. He nipped at it before gliding kisses along my collar as his hands started to unbuckle my jeans. I wiggled my feet against the bed until I found the right angle to work my boots off, in enough time for him to slide my jeans down my legs.
Arthur's fingers massaged into my thighs as he came back to me, lips taking mine again. I moaned softly against his lips as his thumb brushed against my core. My fingers wound through his hair again as he pushed my underwear aside and teased me with his fingers. Fuck. I wasn't sure anyone had ever touched me like this. At least not with the skills he presented as he worked me. He started with a single finger, taking another moan from my lungs as it slipped into me.
"How interesting a woman like you can be so bold." His voice was low and husky in my ear. "And yet your body betrays you. Saying nothing more than 'take me now' as my fingers fuck you."
I had a response, or at least thought I did. Until his thumb ran across my clit and stopped all thought. His legs pushed mine further apart. I had never been one to shy away from my body. I knew what I looked like, had seen the scars before they had healed into pink lines across my skin. Had dealt with the same thoughts of self-doubt and image as any young woman had. I had been the bait in too many cases to count because of my looks. But here, with this man between my legs, it felt almost as if I was baring it all for the first time again.
"You look stunning like this. All open for me to play with as I please." Arthur murmured, nipping at my neck.
I tried to focus, tried to find something to come back with. But everything eroded with each of his erratic touches. It was like he was made to touch me.
It took me all too long to realize his other hand had wound under my top. But then he was rolling my nipple between his fingers. His rough and calloused fingers rolled it slowly, with just enough pressure that it was pleasurable rather than painful. It dragged a low whine from me when his thumb rolled my clit again at the same time. Fuck, I needed him. Every torturous circle was going to bring me closer and closer to the edge until I couldn't take it anymore. I was going to drown in the sensation.
It was almost ruthless, the way he brought me so easily to the brink. The fire seemed to start in my core just from the way his fingers found every sweet spot. Or how his rough fingers felt against my now too-sensitive breast. Or the way his teeth continued to leave marks all along my collar and neck. Each little touch made the world recede until it was just the way he moved. Every time I got close to going over the edge, he seemed to know and would lighten his touch, keeping me on that edge.
"You'll have to beg me for it." He almost growled the words. Like he was on some sort of edge too.
I tried to laugh. Tried to sound defiant. "You wish."
Arthur chuckled. "You've given me everything else." His voice held control. Not commanding. Something more primal. "Beg me."
"Fuck." It was a moan as his thumb swirled again, just light enough to keep me from going over. "Fuck. Arthur, please."
"Try again." Oh, this asshole.
"Please, sir." I moaned again.
He dared to chuckle again but gave me what I needed. He started higher, slowly working down in small circles of his thumb. My whole body waited for it, stiffened until he finally swiped over what I needed. And then it was back arching, head pounding, delicious pleasure.
I could still feel his fingers pumping in and out of me as I rode the orgasm. Could just hear the growl of satisfaction that came from him over the bliss. Another whine came from me as his fingers and body left mine. I watched him closely with lust-fogged vision as he pushed from the bed and started to undress.
Arthur was meticulous with it. A sly grin on his face as he slowly undid the tie around his neck, followed by the slow unbuttoning, folding, and placing of that black dress shirt on a side table. He was muscular beneath it and covered in too many scars to count. I was impressed by how slowly he undid his belt and slacks, especially when I could see even the outline of how badly I had affected him through red boxers. The man was above average, but not by enough to have any worry of hurting me.
I sat up to throw my flannel and shirt aside as he turned briefly to a drawer of the nightstand. "You won't need one of those," I commented as he took a condom from the drawer. He gave me a sidelong look. "Long story, but trust me. None of it works."
He nodded as if he seemed to understand. Then took a few steps back to me. Our lips came together first. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he shimmied out of his boxers, then pushed me back onto the bed. I wrapped my legs around his waist as we fell back, putting his cock exactly where it needed to be.
A second later, he slid into me and I groaned against his lips at the feeling. It turned into a pleasurable moan as he pushed deeper. Filling and stretching me, just barely uncomfortable.
"Fuck," He growled against my lips.
His hands slid down my thighs until they took a firm grip on my hips. Holding me fast and rough against him.
"Be good, and make this whole place know my name," Arthur ordered.
There was no moment for me to respond before he started moving. Slow at first, giving us both time to adjust to each other. Each time he pushed forward until he was fully sheathed, then pulled back just to ease in again. It didn't take long before I was used to him, and uncomfortable changed to wonderful, thrilling friction pulling another moan from me.
"Good girl." He pushed into me harder than before.
A starburst of sensation shot through me as he did, causing my back to arch, sending him deeper. God, I wanted more. My hips locked tighter around him, changing his thrusts from long, sharp drives, to short, quick hammers of his hips. His name came from my lips then, enough just for the two of us to hear.
"Fuck, just like that." He growled into my neck.
He bit my neck again as his hips shifted, pressing against one side of me. Hitting just the right spot, his hands keeping me there.
"Arthur." It was louder that time as my fingers wound up into his hair.
It was so much. Almost too much as he switched sides again and continued to pound into me. It was enough to put me near the edge again, but not near enough to push over. Every muscle in my abdomen grew taught again, pulling a low groan from him as I clenched around him. His rhythm faltered just a bit.
He switched sides once more and hammered hard into me, dragging my hips to his and pulling away from my chest to drive even deeper. His name broke from my lips again, a plea for the pleasurable release I knew we both craved now. I threw my head back when the next thrust finally sent me over the edge. He wasn't far to follow, throwing his head back and groaning low as we fell apart.
Arthur's hands ran over my body softly as we came down from it all. The roughness of his callouses sent shivers over my sensitive body. He leaned forward again and kissed me softly. I could feel his heart hammer against his chest with mine.
I could stay here tonight.
They were there again. The howls of large predators in the distance. And they were getting closer. No matter how fast I ran through the city streets. No matter how many side roads and alleyways I ran down. They were always there. Always so close to my heels. Until they were just behind me. Their hot, stinking breath sticky against the back of my legs. I tried. Tried to reach out and take his hand, tried to run away from the open maws I knew were reaching just as hard for me. But they clamped over my calf. Sticky, hot blood running between their sharp teeth as it disabled me. Just until another one joined. Until another set of teeth bit into my shoulder…
I shot up in the soft bed sheets, scared and confused. These weren't the scratchy sheets I had gotten used to. This wasn't the yellowed walls of the smoke-stained motel room I had been staying in. This was posh, silky, and white. This was…
I took a steadying breath. Then a second. This was the suite Arthur had been renting. Arthur. The man I had just slept with. The man who knew nothing about me. The foreign hunter I knew nothing about. The man who wasn't currently in bed next to me.
I took another breath and let my head fall forward to my chest. I was still naked, covered in a cold sweat again. I rolled my neck, trying to release the tension that sat there now. Then slid from the soft bedsheets and walked around the room. I could hear the shower running behind the ajar master bathroom door. That gave me a second to look around better.
There wasn't much to find in the rather large room. An empty walk-in closet. His clothes from the night before were still neatly folded on the bedside table. The only thing of note was a small black desk along the other wall. There were several manila-colored folders on top of it, each looked to have a name written across the label.
I let my fingers skim across the top of the first one. I didn't recognise the name so I slid it aside so I could see the next few in order. Several more names I didn't know until I got to the last four. In a heart-pounding, skin-chilling moment, I saw my brother's names on those folders. One for each of them. Followed by John's. And then mine.
It took me a moment to realize Arthur must not have gotten far enough into these to recognize me. Or I doubt he would've let our night get as far as it had. Especially if this was what I thought it was now. Many hunters had hit lists, this didn't feel like it could be much different.
I took mine from the bottom of the pile, slid the others back into place, and flipped it open. There wasn't much in it, just a single piece of paper, though there was a picture of myself that looked like it came from a CCTV camera stapled to the top. Just enough to give my basic features. But a lot was missing too. My birthday, my age, and my weight. And most importantly, my current location. I sighed with a little relief at that, at least whoever he was or worked for had no idea where at least I was. I turned the paper over. The back held a list of almost interview questions.
Is the candidate open to cooperation?
Is the candidate able to kill basic supernatural monsters?
Is the candidate willing to use safer and more streamlined ways to kill supernatural monsters?
The questions continued along that line until the very end.
Is the candidate recommended by scout for future service?
What the fuck did that mean?
Whatever it meant, at least he didn't seem like he was here to kill us. At least not yet. But now I had more questions about whatever the fuck he was here for. He was at least here to question hunters, but why?
That should be an easy enough question to figure out too. Especially if I continued to use my only advantage against him. However, it didn't mean he would like it if he found out I had gone through his stuff.
"He shouldn't keep it out in the open then," I mumbled to myself.
I gave myself another second to think it through before tucking the folder under my arm. I turned around and looked at the room again. Where could I hide this so that he wouldn't find it? My eyes fell across a few options but thought through most of them before settling on an old classic hiding spot. I gently lifted the corner of the mattress and slid the folder underneath it. That should be good enough for now.
I nodded to myself, happy with my work, and walked through the room and into the still-steaming bathroom. It was easy to slip silently through the room and slide the glass door open. Even easier to slide it closed again and turn to the man still in it.
Arthur's eyes were closed as he stood in the hot water. He jumped slightly when my cool hands wrapped around his chest and slid down.
"I didn't hear you come in." He huffed softly, turning his head just enough for his silver eyes to study me.
"Good." I smiled softly, letting my hands slide down just enough to trace his thighs. "I figured I could join you."
Arthur chuckled, "I would never say no to that."