Chapter Four

The music blasted around her making Raven sway her scantily clad hips from side to side. She shimmied and danced around Conan on the dance floor. Even he was in a better mood than when they first arrived. The man dancing with them, laughing and mildly conversing with others, was a little shorter than Conan. He danced erratically, without any rhythm or sensuality whatsoever. He handed Conan a lit cigarette, to which Raven pulled from his clutch.

“No!” They both shouted to her.

But it was too late, she took a long, slow pull, ingested the smoke, and held it in. Her eyes glossed over and her inhibitions fled. She slid the cigarette back between Conan’s lips, while wrapping her arms around his neck as they continued to party.

Conan smiled and Raven couldn’t help herself as she ran a hand over his head. Before she could stop herself, she kissed him. Softly on the lips, at first. The music kept playing, but Conan stopped dancing. He mouthed a few words to her, but Raven didn’t hear him. The music was too loud. She shrugged and pulled him back into her body. He smiled and shook his head as he danced the night away with her.

The more they danced, the lighter Raven felt on her feet. Conan’s strong arms were wrapped around her body and he kept his eyes only on her. She could feel someone tugging on her arm, but he shooed them away. It was as if they’d known each other for a thousand lifetimes while she swayed in his arms. The next time they kissed, it was Conan who bent down to her. She parted her lips only a bit, but Conan stuck his tongue between them drawing her deeper into him. With their mouths pressed against each other, she felt his hand grab her ass to pull her against his growing erection. It wasn’t hard to miss in his thin satin pants.

Raven dropped her hand, wrapping her fingers around it through the fabric.

Conan sucked in air through clenched teeth. “So that’s the magic grip they’ve been bragging about.”

He bent down and kissed her neck while she stroked him gently. The passion between them grew far more quickly than Raven anticipated. Whatever was in that cigarette had every inch of her guard down, and every inch of Conan’s cock up.

“We can’t do this,” she said backing away. Whatever it was, it was wearing off. Like a ton of bricks, all that was light, fun, and freeing came crashing to a halt. Her stomach churned, her eyes grew heavy, and suddenly her temperature rose to numbers that made her delirious.

That was the last thing Raven remembered. The next time she opened her eyes, she was outside The Barstow. It had to be late as there wasn’t anyone walking on the street. She heard a few howls off in the distance, but what came in clearer and closer were the sounds of Alan, Shana, and Devon.

“Drag those parts into the basement and throw her into the furnace,” Alan commanded.

Shana sighed. “I can’t believe we have to do this again. I mean, what use is she if we’re still cleaning up entrails!? Like we’re in the fucking wilderness. This is not what I signed up for Alan.”

“Just shut the hell up Shana and get it done. I’ll be back. I have to do fucking damage control,” Alan said to them.

“It’s not her fault,” she heard Michy speak. “She didn’t know how hard Conan and Ivan party. No one knows how crazy those cigs make you til you smoke ‘em.”

“No excuse,” Shana snapped. “She’s not here to party. I don’t know what Alan was thinking when he sent her down there!”

“He was thinking that she would help clear Conan’s name and his conscience. He really thinks he’s behind this!”

“Maybe he is!” Shana shouted, throwing her hands up. “Just take the pictures and upload them. I’ll figure out what we have to do later. I’m exhausted. Get her upstairs and out of our clothes. She’s an Enforcer. Let her be just that.”

Raven pulled herself up to sit against the building. The corpse was bloody, with an unrecognizable face and a mangled body. Its intestines dragging as Devon scooped up the severed parts and tossed them in a basket beside the bin Shana placed the victim in.

“Does anyone know where Conan went?” Shana asked them.

“I was in the front all night.” Devon shrugged. “Whatever way he got out, it wasn’t past me.”

“When she started to lose it, she was all over the place. I was just trying to keep her head and our reputation intact. By the time we got out here to get her some fresh air, we found this. I really don’t think this is Conan’s work,” Michy said.

“Well, until someone finds him, we won’t know anything,” Shana snapped. “You two go out and find him. I’ll finish up here and help that one upstairs. If he has blood on him, don’t let him out of your sight and bring him right to Alan. I don’t want her to get her hands on him until we know what’s going on.”

“Would you really let her kill Conan?” Michy asked, with tears in her voice.

“If he has the bloodlust, then we don’t have a choice. There’s so much more at stake here than just our livelihoods,” Shana explained. Everyone went their separate ways.

By the time Shana finished picking up the bloody mess, Raven was sober enough to stand up on her own. After snapping a few pictures of the scene with her own phone, she eyed the Barstow sibling before looking down at herself. Still wearing short shorts and a leather bra, Raven shook her head. That’s when it began to throb.

“Come on.” Shana sighed. “Let’s get you upstairs. You’ll do better not to mention this part in your report.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I can barely remember what happened,” Raven told her honestly. “Do you really think Conan did that?”

“No, I don’t want to believe that,” she said sincerely. “I’ve known Conan since he was a kid. We’ve been looking after him ever since. This isn’t him. Granted he has a bit of a troubled past, but nothing that warrants this.”

They took the private elevator up, opening into Alan’s penthouse suite. He could be heard on the phone talking to someone. Raven sighed as the idea of her undressing right there in the entryway made sense. Conan’s temper tantrum from earlier had a lot more perspective now that she had a taste for what he felt like, especially if the clothes were going back in the closet anyway.

“Can you elaborate on that past of his?” Raven asked wearily.

“You look tired, honey. Why don’t you go and get some rest? When they bring Conan back here, you can ask him yourself. That's the kind of information you need to hear from the source’s mouth,” she told her, and pursed her lips together.

Raven could tell that while Shana didn’t outwardly despise her, she didn’t quite like her either. That was fine with Raven. She wasn’t trying to be a member of their pack anyway. So with a deep breath, she decided to take Shana’s advice and make her way toward Michy’s apartment.

Stepping out of Alan’s condo, there was a circular space in which all five doors looked back at her. Raven knew which one was Michy’s, but the scent hitting her was all too familiar. While everyone else was scouring the city for Conan, he’d never left the building. She walked up to the door and turned the knob. It wasn’t locked and she stepped into his place.

The space had a far more rustic feel than Raven anticipated. It made her think of home. Wood beams straddled the ceiling while a large window overlooked the city. There was a bar in the corner and his kitchen lined the back wall next to it. On another wall, there was a bed with a furry comforter. It was soft to the touch as she ran her hands over it. There was a door that she opened, following the scent trail, but all she found was a closet. No Conan.

It could be the drugs, or whatever was in that cigarette, throwing her senses out of whack but she didn’t want to believe that. She knew Conan was in there, somewhere. She could feel his energy. They were linked from the moment they’d kissed.

Raven circled around his apartment one more time before ending up back in the closet again. She stepped in to see a bunch of jackets and shirts hanging up. Then she saw it. It was simple. It was discreet. It was a silver handle along the corner seam of the back wall. It jutted out after she touched it. Pulling it toward her, the soft click of the hidden lever echoed around her.

The coats and shirts moved with the wall as she pulled it open and stepped into the secret room. It was dark, cold. The feeling of the floor under her feet was a reminder that she wasn’t outside, it was warm. She could smell dirt, pine trees, and even more so…rock. The scent of granite, slate, all of those familiar aromas made her feel warm. A light turned on.

In the corner of the room was a massive piece of rock. It looked like a cave but where the opening would be lay a hot tub, built into the floor. It was bubbling. Steam rose from it.

“What are you doing in here?” Conan asked.

Turning around, he was laying on a bed of leaves and dirt with a pair of thin spandex boxers on. His beautiful green eyes were red and tired. She imagined that's the look her eyes often contained that drew out people’s unnecessary opinions on how exhausted she looked on a regular basis.

“What is this place?”

“My home away from home in my home,” he said nonchalantly. “Shhhh. Don’t say anything. Come lay with me, Raven. Come lay with me.”