“Jay, open the tops of the crates. Let them see what they’re getting.” Jay grabs a crow bar from the corner, the metal dragging against the concrete. Within minutes he removes the tops, revealing the carefully packed assault rifles and various hand guns. “This is top quality merchandise.” He makes a move like a model on the Price is Right.
Eyeballing the 9mm, I pick it up and have it dismantled within seconds. Everything looks good, and I place it back in the crate.
“Well,” he looks at my vest, “Everything to your liking?”
“Seems like everything is in order but if you fuck us over, I will personally make you regret it.” My voice rumbles out of my chest, and his eyes widen in surprise. Sweat beads on his forehead at the threat.
“Don’t worry my friend. This is the beginning of a very profitable relationship between our groups. I scratch your back and you scratch mine, ehh.” His sleezy grin makes my skin crawl, and I want to rip off the skin from his face.
“Let’s get it loaded up.” The enticing smell garners my attention as we walk back outside. It’s like inhaling smoke. It fills my lungs, and the warmth spreads throughout my body, my soul. My beast paces inside, his attention on the car. Within minutes we load all the crates into the back of the van. The black bag stuffed with cash is placed in Ernesto’s outstretched palm.
“I guess I need not count it, eh?” My cold stare has him stepping back. “Until next time gentleman.”
“What’s in there?” The scent that keeps drawing me is coming from the front car. No sound is coming from within, but I’m compelled to go inside.
“Nothing that concerns you friend.” Ernesto’s voice hardens. He steps up, trying to block my view. My cat roars in my head, claws pricking my insides, ready to move the obstacle in his path.
Kid’s hand clamps down on my shoulder as I take a step forward. “Come on, man. Let’s go.”
“Listen to your friend. Take your crates and leave.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sure, let’s get out of here.” I back away slowly, my cat going crazy. Fur sprouts on my arms as he tries to force a shift.
“Jesus man, what is your fucking problem?” Kid seethe when we slam the doors closed on the van. The side mirror has a perfect view of the train car. Deep inside me is the feeling that if I don’t see what is in there, I’ll regret it for eternity.
“Slash! What the fuck, man?”
“Didn’t you notice the smell?”
“Smell? What smell?”
“Something is making my cat go crazy. It’s coming from that train car.”
“This is the first time we’ve worked with these guys. Wraith’ll be pissed if we fuck this up because your cat is curious.”
“I don’t know man. This is...” I hesitate.
“Is what?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
“Then let’s get gone before you do something you’ll regret.” He starts the van and shifts it into gear. Sweat beads on my forehead as we pull away. My cat slashes my insides as I hiss against the pain. We’re maybe a mile from the drop site before I can’t take it anymore.
“Pull over,” I growl. Kid side eyes me but otherwise ignores me. “Pull the fuck over!” My roar rocks the van. Kid white knuckles the steering wheel.
“No,” he blurts, pushing the gas down harder. The van rockets forward, gravel pinging underneath as we bump down the unpaved road.
“Fuck this shit.” I shove open the door and drop to the ground. I shift, my clothes lying in tatters as my paws hit the gravel of the road back.
“Slash! God damn it!” Kid bellows as I run into the darkness of the night. I jump over the track and come up on the back side of the train cars. The scent is even more potent in my shifted form. Sneaking closer, Jay and Ernesto’s voices filter through the ominous sounds of the night.
“Why the fuck was he so interested in what was inside?” The squeal of metal sliding against metal drowns out the response.
“I don’t like it. Let’s get her the hell out of here before they come nosing around.”
She? A rumble fills my chest and I have to hold my cat back. From underneath the car, I spot two sets of feet pacing in front of the open door. With her scent not obstructed by the metal, the curiosity of my cat becomes the urge to claim, to take, to mate, to make mine.
Mine? The cat purrs in response.
Fuck me.
“Get the car and I’ll dose her again and we’ll throw her in the trunk.” Heavy footsteps retreat, boots crunching on the gravel.
“God save me from idiots.” Ernesto takes a drag of the cigarette; a muffled song comes from his pocket. “Hey boss. No, everything went as planned. They were a little curious as to the other package we’re delivering but it’s taken care of.” A few seconds lapse. “Yeah, I know how important she is. I’ll have her at the hideout tonight before anyone is the wiser.” A couple more "yes sirs” then he shoves the phone back into his pocket. “I need a fucking drink. Make sure it’s done Ernesto,” he mocks in a nasal voice. “Do I not get shit taken care of?” He asks the crickets. As his footsteps become more distant, I creep over the tracks, my paws silent. Fuck, I’ll have to shift. Seven hundred pounds jumping into the metal will make a racket.
At first all I see are stacks of boxes, but my nose leads me to the far back corner. Lying on a rumpled blanket is a woman, her dark hair obscuring her face. My eyes close as I breathe in deep.
“Mine.” No doubt. She is my mate.
And human. Of all the species that could’ve been picked for me, fate chose a damn human.
Making sure the coast is clear, I creep
