Reign of Fire (Hellhound x Autore)

[Autore]

A strong breeze whipped across a cliff face just along the edge of the protection barrier. The barrier kept out only humanoids and not the ever changing weather. It was early fall and the cold lingering from the wind had the humans bundling up outside in the surrounding city of Tuule. Tucked away behind their protective zone the dragon shifters and smaller species ran warmer than their human counterparts. The dragons internal fire kept them toasty warm even in the midst of deep mounds of snowy winter. Which seemed every year to last longer and longer.
Sitting with hands folded around her knees was a young woman. From the edge of the high cliff she could almost see to the edge of the continent before it slipped around the curve of the planet. Berth was the name of this large globe twirling in space. She had heard stories from the elders of a planet called Earth that once housed a multitude of species, but that was way before her time. Now despite a relocation her species still couldn't regain its once former glory. They were top of the food chain, but their numbers dwindled without new blood to replace it.
Autore slipped a strand of silvery white hair behind her ear after the wind had pulled it from her loose braid. Bits of black streaked through her hair like oil dripping through moonlight. Only a slight pink hinted the crest of her cheeks from the cooler air. Her pale blue eyes seemed clouded like a storm as she sighed tiredly.
She hated her job. Being a secretary to her older brother didn't have a single perk like most people would think. He was only her step brother after all. It hadn't been 5 minutes after leaving work that he was blowing up her phone with more work that she needed to finish while at home. Growling in frustration she had tossed her work attire to the floor and slipped into old jeans, t-shirt, and boots and hiked up to her favorite spot. No signal on her phone and also no other being around. It was here she could be herself without complaints or quiet whispering. She was the freak who couldn't shift.
Wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand, she pushed up off the ground and slowly started to make her way back down the cliff side.

 

[Hellhound]

The streets of Tuule, which usually bustled with activity in the warm months, were almost devoid of life. The few souls who were braving the weather could be divided into two groups: those who had pressing errands which required them walking for short stretches, and those who the cold didn't bother. Some, like Mort, fell into both categories.

He walked with his head down, his hands in the pockets of his greatcoat. The wind tossled his short, black hair and stung his eyes. Walking downtown, Mort passed pubs which were packed with people escaping the cold of the street and finding warmth in drink and camaraderie. Mort walked past most of these pubs, taverns, and bars. Turning off of the high street, he saw the familiar lights of the tavern that was his destination.

Over the door, his name was in flashing neon. "Mort's Place," the sign flashed. And just below, another sign which flashed the word, "Open". Mort pushed through the door and shook the moisture from his coat before hanging it on the coat rack just inside.

"Hey boss," said Lodea, his assistant and part-time bartender. The girl was standing at the bar, wiping glasses before hanging them. She was a young girl, and more a daughter to Mort than an employee. By night, Mort was a private investigator. It was in this capacity that he'd found Lodea, wandering the streets as a teenager several years ago. Mort had given her a place to stay and a job.

"Hey Lo," Mort said. He looked around his pub, and counted only five patrons. They were scattered across the room, on tables and barstools, drinking quietly.
"Got any work for me tonight?" Lodea asked.
Mort shook his head. "It's a slow season. Spouses mostly cheat in the summer time. There's hardly any burglaries or murders, even. This cold sure shuts the city down."
Lodea nodded. "Almost makes ya wish you were a shifter, don't it?" She asked. "At least you'd be warm then."
Mort shrugged. "Never thought about it." Without another word, he poured himself a whiskey and went upstairs, to his office over the tavern. He drank quietly, reading a newspaper and gazing into the blue-grey of the cold city, feeling sleep coming slowly to him as he dozed in his office chair with his feet propped on his desk.

 

[Autore]

It was hard sometimes to ignore the stares that would follow her as she walked down the narrow streets between highrises. It didn't matter how many people were on the street or even the time of day. She was a never ending source of discussion for the masses.

Rolling her eyes as yet another person whispered their hateful spewing, Autora brushed past them closer than necessary and sent them scurrying to keep from touching her. The pathetic shifters were afraid she might pass on her abnormality to them. The ancients forbid they touch her.

A short building came into view, its place between the feets of height highrises was a thing of beauty to her. It was a place to herself. Not that anyone would share it with her anyways. Pushing open her front door after scanning her palm to the locking pad she was greeted by stacks and stacks of books. The musty spell of old parchment and ever fading ink had her smiling. These were her real friends.

But they had to wait. Evil step brother would make her life miserable if she didn't get back to him soon.
Pulling out her phone she tapped his face and called him.back.
"Bought damn time you got back to me runt! I need those files read thru tonight. They called a meeting in four hours. Your to be here as well. They requested you be there. Can't say I understand why. But the council gets what it wants. Dress appropriately too. None of that slutty crap you've been offending me with.a His voice dropped after with a swift click.

It didn't hurt her anymore to hear the filth coming from him anymore. She was so numb on the inside. Her plans on taking a warm bath went out the door with her deadline so a quick cold shower brought her back awake. Time flew as she threw on what could be considered non slut clothes, wearing a cream cashmere sweater and tan dress pants that covered her entirely along with low slip on heels.
Rushing out the door she cursed when she realized that the meeting was out in the city and not within the barriers. The day just kept getting better and better.

 

[Hellhound]

Mort was snoring peacefully in his chair when his cellphone rang loudly in the otherwise quiet room. He jolted awake and grabbed his phone, answering the call and clearing his throat before speaking.
"Hello?" He croaked, running his hand over his face.
"Mort," a familiar voice said. "Got a job for you tonight. Simple surveillance. $2,000 in cash upon completion."

Mort blinked several times, allowing his sleep-ridden mind to process what he'd heard. The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Inspector Rohm Barrett, one of the higher-ups in the Tuule Police Force. After a series of budget cuts a few years ago, the police force had adopted a policy of hiring out certain jobs to private investigators, like Mort. But two grand? That steep of a price for one job, especially simple surveillance, was damn high. It smelled liked trouble.
"What's the rub?" Mort asked.
"Huh?" said Barrett.
"The catch, Rohm. Two grand for surveillance?"
"No catch, Mort. We're paying extra, because we need extra detail on your part. There's a meeting taking place uptown this evening, and we want identifiable pictures of every single person going in or out of the building before and after."
"I'm good, Rohm," Mort said, sighing. "But that sounds like you want pictures of an awful lot of people. There are physical limitations to consider."
"If you don't want the job, Mort, just say so," Barrett said, sounding irritated. "We got a whole list of you freelancers to pick from. I'm doin' you a favor here."
Mort sighed and looked out the window.
"I'll do it. Just send the details to my phone. I'll call you later tonight when it's done."
"Good boy, Mort," said Barrett. "Sending the specifics now."

Mort ended the call and tossed his phone onto the desk. He stretched, feeling his spine pop and crack. He had actually been looking forward to the thought of a quiet night in, for a change. But, as far as jobs go, taking a few hundred pictures on a public street wasn't too bad. Especially not for two grand. Mort crossed the room and retrieved his camera bag. He inventoried his lenses, turned the camera on, and verified that the camera storage was empty. He tossed a couple extra storage cards into the satchel and slung it over his back. He grabbed his phone from his desk and looked at the address.

Coming downstairs, Mort grabbed his car keys from behind the bar. Lodea raised an eyebrow as she saw the camera bag.
"I thought you said we didn't have any work," she said.
"Just surveillance," Mort said. "It'll be boring. Keep an eye on things, kid."
With that, Mort went out the door and into the biting cold.

 

[Autore]

A gleaming office building greeted her as the cabbie pulled over to the curb. Autora handed the man a $50 and told him to keep the change. She always felt sorry for the humans having to work out in this cold. She could feel normal around them. At least they only stared for other reasons. She grabbed her purse from off the seat beside her before stepping out of the cab; making sure the folders were still inside. The driver rolled down his passenger window and shouted a "Thanks" to the beautiful young woman, and admired her curvaceous ass as she walked away.

The building stood four stories high and was covered in floor to ceiling windows that were tinted like a one way mirror. Bracing herself and giving herself a mental pep talk, Autora walked to the front entrance and went to pull open the door. It swung open barely missing her face and making her jump back with surprise. Sneering at her was Rulan, her step brother. He even made the hatred for her in his eyes seem sexy along with the clean cut black suit he wore. Like most Dragons he was built but not too thick. He certainly had his fair share of female and male admirers.

"Glad you could finally make it runt. It would not have been in your best interest to arrive after our important guests." One if his hands wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her forcefully inside almost sending her tumbling to the marble floor. " Did you go over the files like I asked you too?"

"Of course I did." She nodded and withdrew them from her purse. Handing them over she took a step back from him just in case he decided to lash out for some invisible mistake he was sure to find.

"You took care of any miscalculations with the numbers, correct?" He was still scanning each page to make sure she didn't fuck this up. There was a lot of money and power at stake if their guests found any fault with what they were given.

"I did as you asked...despite it being last minute of course." She mumbled the last part even though she knew his hearing was impeccable. She hated being doubted by everyone or counted as incompetent.

"Fine. At least this time your not trying to by our guest with your flesh. Althought that outfit is a bit form fitting isn't it? Did you get fatter?" The smirk he gave her had to humor and she wasn't laughing either.

"I'll try to do better next time, Brother." Her response was just as cold. She was getting sick and tired of being kicked around and for once she could feel her temper rising below the surface. Rulan watched the little girl and was stunned as he thought he saw flames in her eyes as her ire rose. He brushed it off though and growled under his breath.

"Do not call me that, especially here, you little freak. Our guests will be here any moment. Go up to the second floor conference room and wait. Set out refreshments for 5 including myself." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand as if she were a servant.

Shaking in anger she wished she could tell him off. It rolled across her skin as a warm heat. She didn't say anything though and walked away. If she would have looked down though she would have seen a silver sheen cover her hands like scales.

The conference room was floor to ceiling windows too so she could keep an eye on the street below as she scurried around and set up glasses and filled containers with different drinks and even found a few tins of cookies to set out. Standing beside a window while sipping at a small glass of water before her brother came up afforded her a view of a long limo that pulled up to the curb. Her brother rushed outside to open the door and she saw the Humans Governor and the Shifters King along with their spouses exit the open door. She knew who was coming but it still shocked her to see these heavy weights having anything to do with each other.

As her brother closed the door to the limo something caught her eye across the street. A figure stood almost in the shadows and had something pointed towards the front entrance. It was too small for a gun. As she watched and focused she could see his fingers moving in a tapping motion. That's when she realized it was a camera. But why would someone be taking pictures of all this. She frowned and mumbled to herself. It deepened when she saw the figure turn and point towards the exact window she was standing at. Just who the hell was this and should she say something to Rulan about it.

 

[Hellhound]

Mort had spent the drive uptown trying to envision the best angle to set up from. The street was a busy one, and he was pretty sure that there was an alley directly across the street from the building the address belonged to. The alley would serve well for two reasons: it would give him a close enough vantage to see anyone coming or going through the front doors, and it would conceal him from the rest of the street. Mort pulled his black car into an alley which connected to the one across from his surveillance location. He parked the car behind an abandoned building, grabbed his gear from the passenger seat, and took off walking through the hazy alleyway.

He turned left down another alley after several minutes of walking and could see the light from the open street ahead. Upon reaching the mouth of the alley, he saw that he was right about the location of the building in relation to the alley; it was directly across the street. Mort leaned over a dumpster lid, his camera steadied by the rough plastic surface. He brought the doors of the building into focus and prepared to start snapping away.

After thirty minutes, he hadn't seen a single person enter the building. He started to think that he'd made an easy two grand-- and that Detective Barrett better not try and stiff him the cash just because he contacted the investigator too late. Mort remained ready, his finger hovering over the shutter release. The wind blew down the narrow alley, fluttering the bottom of his coat. He was about to shift his position when he saw the taxi pull up to the curb.

He saw a woman stepping out onto the sidewalk, and began snapping shots from the second he saw her silver-white hair. Her back was to Mort, and the cab kept most of her body below her head obscured from view. Mort continued shooting. As the cab pulled away, his breath caught in his throat and he unconsciously stopped snapping for a moment. He spent a fraction of a second admiring the full ass of the woman as she walked determinedly away from him toward the door. He forced himself back to the task at hand as she reached the door and starting clicking away, hoping to maybe get her face in the reflection of the glass.

Mort watched as another person exited the building, speaking to the woman. Mort zoomed in on the guy's face and snapped several shots. He didn't like the look the guy was giving the woman, and watched as he roughly grabbed her by the arm and forced her through the doors of the building. Mort shook his head.

"Lady," he muttered under his breath, "Your boss is a grade-A asshole."

Mort waited once more, but not for long. A long black limousine pulled to the curb and let out four passengers. Mort was taking photographs as they climbed from the vehicle when he recognized each of them.
"Oh shit," he breathed to himself. His mind raced even faster than his finger on the shutter release. What reason would the King and Governor have to meet, with a possible third party, without any media being alerted or present? The obvious answer would be that they didn't want to broadcast their meeting. As the four made their way into the building, Mort realized why Detective Barrett had given him the job. It wasn't that the job was too unimportant for a regular cop-- it was that it was too dangerous. If the police were investigating the Governor, the King, or both... Mort didn't want to know what kind of deals were being made in that glass building.

Mort raised his lens up the glass surface of the building, zooming in on windows to try and get a possible view of the meeting. It was a longshot, but he hadn't been here too long and wanted to make sure he went back to Barrett with everything the Detective would need. He gazed across empty windows as he made his way up the building, staring through his zoom lens.

He saw the shape of the woman from the taxi in a second floor window. He realized that he hadn't seen her face, and zoomed further to try and get a look. Her sweater clung tightly to her breasts, and her pants appeared to be sculpted around the curves of her hips. A reflection in the window obscured her face, but for a moment, he saw that she was looking directly at him. Mort lowered the camera, a sly grin spreading across his face. He continued looking at the woman's shape in the window and brought a finger to his lips, making the international "shhh" gesture.

He raised the camera once more and snapped several shots of her. "Just a few for my private collection," Mort said, chuckling to himself. He heard the slam of a car door and brought the lens back down to street level, looking to see if yet another attendee had arrived. Instead, he saw two men stepping out of a black sedan, looking his direction and adjusting their suit coats. They were the tell-tale adjustments men made when they were hiding guns in their coats.

"Shit," Mort breathed. He lowered his camera and turned, walking briskly down the alley way in the direction he'd come earlier.

 

[Autore]

Whoever the guy was, was either very brave or very stupid. Or, and the thought sent shivers down her spine and not in a good way, her brother had hired someone to keep an eye on her. But no, she wasn't important enough for that kind of obsession. Then what the hell was going on, and why did that man seem to focus right on her before telling her to stay quiet. It was giving her a headache on top of the one already formed behind her eyes. Even with her sharper sight she couldn't get any details from the shape hidden in the shadows. Except that he was fairly built.

Before she could muse more another car pulled up outside. Behind her the conference room door opened and voices filled her ears with the high pitched cackles and nauseating smells of the rich. It pulled her away from the window before she saw the men exit the car and send the mysterious cameraman on his way.

She bowed politely to their guests and moved to a corner of the room with a pad and pen in hand. She figured notes had to be taken so she settled in like a shadow. Rulan ushered the two powerful couples into their seats and barely gave a glance to her. He had trained her well to keep her trap shut and just listen.

"Now my dear friends, I have before you the proposal we so lengthily discussed all written out before you. The numbers we calculated will grow exponentially over the next five years. We expect that profits from this little experiment will make everyone involved so filthily rich that none others can touch us." His smile was a wide as snakes finding a filled mouse hole. "All that's needed is your signatures and we will begin tomorrow. My company will be used as a front for all of this as well as the cleaning of any documents and money so as not to alert the local police. What say all of you?"

Autora gagged just listening to the load of bile spewing from her brother. She saw what the proposal was for and it made her sick to her stomach. All those poor girls. But she was too low on the totem pole to do anything about it. Besides who would listen to her, and if she was being followed then talking to the police was out of the question. She wondered again about who the man was lurking in the shadows. She knew for a fact that the car that had pulled up out front was a couple of her brothers hired guns. If the people in this room didn't sign then they would meet an unfortunate end, which with a lot of money would be explained away as an accident or mugging gone wrong. Some such dribble like that.

Unfortuneately for those poor girls everyone signed and enjoyed their refreshments while condemning thousands of people to slavery. Closing her pad, Autora stood silently til her brother, the gracious host, offered everyone a night cap at his condo. He of course left her out of the invitation. Shooing her out the door he hissed in her ear to remember to type all her notes up and have them on her desk in the morning.

Cringing she nodded, all while biting her tongue to keep back her acerbic retort.

The wind outside had picked up when she forced the door open. And to her luck not a single cab was in sight. Not eager to go back un der the protective ward, Autora wandered the streets until she found one with a multitude of pubs. Their lights glittered with beckoning and warmth. Her stomach grumbled like a dull roar as she passed a sign that said "Mort's Place". Deciding this was good enough she pushed open the door and stepped inside allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. Only a few people lingered around the place with a young woman walking around the bar with a towel in hand.

 

[Hellhound]

It had taken Mort over an hour of criss-crossing and retracing his steps to lose the two goons who had followed him from the street. He hustled down the last stretch of alley and found his car just as he'd left it.
"Thank God," he whispered into the cold evening air.

He opened the driver side door and threw his camera bag across to the passenger seat before climbing in and cranking the motor over. He pulled onto the street and drove as calmly and casually in the direction of downtown. Once he was a few blocks from where he'd lost his pursuers, he called Detective Barrett.

"Whaddaya got?" Barrett said as he answered the phone.
"Probably just what you expect," Mort said.
"Well, Mort," said the detective. "You tell me what you think I expect, and I'll tell you if you're right."
"Deep shit is what I got, Barrett," Mort said, turning onto a sparkling boulevard. "Like up to my knees deep shit."
"This ain't our first date," Barrett said, impatiently. "You don't gotta beat around the bush all night."
"I got the King and the Governor, both showing up at a little place uptown, plus their spouses. I got private security, and some slimy asshole I never seen before. And someone else, I guess a girlfriend or something."
"Good work, Mort," Barrett said. "Send me what you got."
"No way, pal," Mort said quickly. "I don't know what you're getting me into, but I don't what my name attached to any official report about how this evidence was gathered. I'm going to keep these as insurance for a while. Until I figure out what's happening."
"Listen, you fuck," Barrett growled over the phone. "We had a deal. I get pictures, you get two grand. What kind of fucking professional are you?"
"The kind that don't like being played," Mort said. "Oh, and fuck your two grand."

Mort pulled into the garage behind his pub and killed the motor. He sat there a moment, thinking in silence. Hopefully, those two bruisers from the alley hadn't recognized him. If so, he could expect company. Mort shrugged and grabbed his camera bag. He shut the car in the garage and walked around to the front of the bar, pushing through the door with his head down, deep in thought. He nearly ran into a woman who was just inside the door.
"Oh, pardon me, ma'am," he said, not looking up as he chewed his tongue. He went over to the bar and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. He gestured to Lodea that he was taking the bottle and was hanging the car keys back on the ring by the cash register. Lodea eyed the bottle suspiciously.

"That kind of night, huh?" She said. Mort knew she didn't like it when he drank too much. He gave the girl a shameful shrug and turned, walking up the stairs to his office. He thought of sitting at his desk, but he was feeling paranoid. What if a shifter hit man was camped out, watching his window? What if one of the Governor's assassins was on a rooftop across the street with a rifle aimed at the office?

Mort decided to roll his chair to the opposite side of the room, where a window looked down onto the main room of the bar. He flipped open the shades and sat down, gazing into the patrons who were coming in for the night. He poured himself a whiskey and sighed, studying the crowd absently. The liquid caught in his throat as he saw the woman who he'd walked past on the way in. He recognized her cream sweater, her tan pants, and the body which filled them.

"Fuck me," he said, coughing and staring through the window, assuring himself that it was her. He waited for her to turn, and he saw her eyes. It was definitely her. Those were the eyes he saw through the window earlier. What the hell was she doing here? Mort stood and looked at himself in the mirror over his fireplace. His black hair was messy, but that was usual and people seemed to think it suited him. He needed a shave, too. He straightened his dress shirt in his pants and stepped back to look at himself, then felt foolish.

"Ah, what the hell," he said and drained his drink as he left the room and jogged back downstairs.

 

[Autore]

Autora felt a chill blow across her back as the fort behind her opened. She stepped to the side trying to move out of the way but with the way her luck was she stepped right into his way and nearly bumped into him. His reflexives were faster and narrowly avoided sending both of them to the floor. His mumbled apology brought one to her lips , but he had already walked past her towards the bar. Guess he was thirsty she grumbled dismissively.

She raised a brow when he walked behind the bar and grabbed a full bottle of from the shelf and shamelessly just shrugged at the bartender. Hmm she wondered if he owned this place.
Well if he did he certainly needed some better manners.
Not wanting to be forced to talk to anyone she headed to the line of barstools closest to the back of the room and slid into the slightly cracked leather seat. She looked around at the small mismatched decor while tapping her fingers against the counter. A girls voice brought her from her thoughts. The young woman standing in front of her smiled at her friendly and asked her what she wanted.
Looking at the rows of bottles her eyes blurred from all the selections. "Tell you what, I'll drink whatever you make me young lady. It's been one of those days."
Autora tried to smile back but it came out a little lopsided. The woman nodded understandingly and started gathering bottles noticing her boss come from around the corner that led to the office stairs. He seemed a bit flustered and had her looking at him questioningly.
Autora leaned against the bar and wrapped her hands around her arms as she waited.

 

[Hellhound]

By the time Mort had reach the floor of the pub, the woman was already seated and expecting a drink. He was watching her as he rounded the bar, and their eyes met. Mort had come down here to demand who she was, what she wanted, why she was here. But when their eyes locked, all of his anger and paranoia seemed to retreat into the rear of his mind. He smiled, which surprised himself.

"Hi there," he said as he came near. He realized he still had the empty glass in his hand, and he fidgeted with it uncomfortably. He was suddenly at a loss for words, which was a first for him. He prided himself on his ability to talk himself out of anything and, when the situation called for it, to talk himself into anything. He fumbled with the glass, then sat it on the bar and gestured for Lodea to fill it.

"I, uh--," he began, scratching his neck. He laughed nervously and extended a hand to the woman. "I'm Mort. I own the joint. Can I get you a drink?"

 

[Autore]

Something inside rumbled with excitement sending a slight flush across her skin. It was Mr. No Manners himself, but she just couldn't seem to find her anger. Instead all she wanted to do was rubbed up against him and see if those hands he fidgeted with nervously would leave imprints on her hips as he took her over the bar.

She blinked owlishly at him as he extended a hand towards her. Speech escaped her for a moment as she desperately hoped her mouth wasnt flopped open like a fish.

"Uhm, thanks. But I've already ordered one from your girl over there."

Autora slowly raised her hand and laid it in his. When their hands met a small spark had her jumping in her seat and shaking her hand in pain.

"Ouch, damnit! That's some handshake you have Mort. I'm Autora by the way." She didn't stop the giggle from escaping as she rubbed her palms together and looked up at him with a wide smile. "I think I'll need that drink after your shocking personality."

Something seemed familiar about this man, but she couldn't place it. He had this ruggedly handsome look going on right down to the several days growth on his face. His hair was an ebony mess and it begged for her tonrun her fingers thru it, but she held back and gesture tonth seat beside her instead.

 

[Hellhound]

Mort smiled and his face flushed crimson as she complimented his handshake. He didn't know what he was doing here; was he here to get information for a case? Or was he entranced by this woman's eyes, her soft curves, her curious disposition? He didn't know which it was, but he knew that neither of those goals would be met down here in the bar. Lodea brought Autora a drink and filled Mort's own, scowling as she did.

"Tell you what," Mort said, picking up his drink. "I've got an office upstairs-- right over the bar, and it's got a great view this time of night. Maybe we could move our conversation for the time being?" He took a drink, unsure of why this woman made his blood run so hot, or his thoughts slick and hard to hold.

 

[Autore]

He wanted to take her upstairs..to be alone. Did he think she was some prostitute out for a good time. A small growl left her mouth before she could stop it.

"That's some nerve you have thinking I'll just go alone with someone ive never met before up to a secluded area. Do I honestly look like some kind of street walker?"

Doubts started creeping in as her brothers cruel words leeched inside her head. Did she really look like a whore in these clothes? Slapping a few bills on the bar she stood up and brushed past him. Her fury made her eyes shimmer under the low lighting. She should have just gone home.

She could feel someone come up behind her when she hit the front door. She turned and snarled at him unable to hide her nature as small scales erupted up her neck.

 

[Hellhound]

"Oh, god," Mort moaned as she stood and left. "No!" He cried. "I wasn't--," but she was already crossing the room. He hurriedly slid his drink on the bar and whirled after her. He replayed the conversation over in his mind, and realized what he must seem like. He'd almost knocked her over on the way, then had marched down and invited her to drink alone with him? Christ, he thought, she really had my head spinning.

He followed her outside and rounded the doorway. "Look, ma'am,--," he began, but he stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on her. Rising from the neck of her sweater, her flesh had become scales, and there was a fiery resolve behind her eyes. The snarl that came from her mouth, it made his heart positively hammer. "A shifter, huh?" He said, his breath fogging in front of him. He leaned forward and winked, his eyes becoming reptilian slits for a fraction of a second. "That explains a lot. Like why you were in the same building as the Shifter King this afternoon." Mort stood back and let that sink in a moment. He stepped backwards slowly and opened the door, holding it wide and leaning against it.
"I'm not going to attack you. I just have questions," he said quietly.

 

[Autore]

"How did you..." Her question cut off as she watched with horror as his eyes shifted before her. He couldn't be. She was rooted in place with his next statement, all the color draining from her face along with her fight. How the hell did he know where she had been and who was there.

Oh Fuck her brother really did have her followed! The shadow man briefly crossed her mind and had her narrowing her eyes.
"Fine, say I follow you...I have questions of my own for you. One claw out of line and so help me you'll regret it."

The beast inside her roared with displeasure as she threatened him. Why now did her dragon have to make an appearance. If it were any other situation she would be celebrating.

She walked past him and followed him up a small set of stairs.

 

[Hellhound]

Mort walked slowly up the stairs, careful not to make any sudden movements. He knew all too well that her being a dragon shifter made her an incredibly dangerous individual. The blood of the dragon was in his veins as well, and he had done much over the past years to keep that a secret. He held no ill will toward the woman, and would not risk angering her to the point of transformation. If that were to happen, he would have no choice but to also unleash his dragon, and he had worked so hard for the life he'd made for himself. He would not risk it.

When they reached his office, he shut the door behind Autora as she entered behind him. He uncorked the bottle of whiskey and poured two drinks, offering one to her. "So, you've got questions too," he said quietly. "Ladies first. Ask away."

 

[Autore]

Autora carefully took the drink and held it unsteadily between her fingers. This definitely wasn't the day for drinking, but she drowned the whiskey in one go and scrunched her face as the liquid burned going all the way down. Now that they were alone her heart raced. She just had this feeling that everything was going to change, and not all for the better. She didn't like change. It was unpredictable and she couldn't hide behind her books againtst it.

Her eyes never strayed too far away from where he stood. He didn't seem like a bad person...or shifter...or whatever he was. Too many questions overloaded her brain and had it throbbing. But one stood out before all others and she just had to know. Squaring her shoulders she looked at him directly holding his gaze under her silver ones. "Are you being paid to follow me?" She held her voice strong despite the unease settled in her chest. What is she going to do if he was following her, and why would someone want to do that? "I know it was you taking those pictures this afternoon, and you all but admitted it to me. Who the hell is paying you, and what have you done with the pictures?"

 

[Hellhound]

His nerves and heart calmed as the nature of their interaction became more unified. As he had taught himself to do, he pushed any carnal lust to the back of his mind, distanced himself from emotion, and thought of facts; he was able to think clearly once more. Her question was the obvious elephant in the room.

"No," he said, swishing the amber liquid in his glass. "Not to follow you. And the pictures are safe." Mort pointed to a locked iron safe across the room, set into the wall beside his desk. He'd stashed the storage cards there when he'd first gotten back, as he usually did.
"I'm a private investigator, Autora," he said. "I get paid to do all kinds of things. I can't say much more without breaking faith with my client, but just know that I had no professional interest in you until you came into my pub this evening."

Mort turned a highback chair near his fireplace to face Autora. He sat and crossed his legs, thinking a moment. He scratched his stubbled face, then looked up at her. "My turn," he said. "Who was the greaseball who was roughing you up outside the building where the meeting was? Boss? Husband?"

 

[Autore]

Her eyes lingered on the safe wishing she could destroy the pictures inside there. What he held wasn't safe for anyone if they got out. But what scared her more was now that someone else's life was in danger. His. Even for a private investigator this was some deep shit and it made her worry even more about who wanted him to take them.

Fingers rubbed at her temples as she paced back and forth even though he sat down. " That sleezeball as you put it...Is one of the most powerful shifters outside of the King himself. And he is most definitely not my husband, or boyfriend, or anything even remotely romantic. That's just plain disgusting. That unfortunately for me is my step-brother. And sleezebag is the correct term for him. It also makes him my boss. I landed the fun role of being his secretary. If you lived with your own kind you would know that."

Crossing her arms she stood in front of him and gave him an appraising look. He definitely was eye on the eyes and had her inner spirit crooning for his attention. She didn't stop herself from pushing her folded arms tighter under her chest and making her assets stick out more. Guess tighter clothes had some advantage. She couldn't believe she was preening before him like this. he was just merely after information. He did say afterall that he didn't have any interest in her other than professionally.

 

[Hellhound]

Mort's eyebrow raised at the comment about "his people". He drained his glass and set it aside. "My people?" He asked, smiling. "You mean the race that will be extinct in fifty-odd years?" He stood and walked across the room to the window facing the street. In the distance, he could see the upper reaches of the mountain over the city, beyond the barrier.

"I have no place in a dying world," he said. "It's not the strongest creatures that survive in nature, Autora. It's the creatures that most easily adapt. I'm adapting. I want my children, if I ever have any, to live in a world that has a future. There's no future on that mountain."

He turned back around, noticing her posture. His eyes fell to her shapely chest, and he found his mind wandering to thoughts of them both entwined, features hidden by her tight clothes fully exposed. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

"I don't know what your brother is up to, or if you're in on it. But I'm a part of it now, and I don't intend to let the matter go until it's resolved. I don't want to be your enemy."

 

[Autore]

"A dying race? Is that how you see us? Always good to clarify when putting down your own people. And now because I have no choice in the matter im just tossed in with that dying race." Autoras anger grew feeling strangely protective over the ones who to this day looked down on her.

"It's not like we have any choice in whether we lay more clutches or not. Those old windbags have been trying for decades to have more and nothing. What you have before you is one of the last children born out of the last clutch. And here is stand the freak that can't even shift. How about that?! Huh?! I can't even help our own people. Not as if I turn heads every day with my clever wit."

Every outburst brought her closer to where he sat, until a finger poked into his chest. "You say you don't want to be my enemy, but yet stashed away in your safe are things that could get you and me killed." Small curls of smoke left her nose as she looked down at him. "I can't afford another enemy, I already have one in my brother. And he may not make you turn tail and run, but he sure as shit scares the hell out of me."

"Look I don't know what you plan to do with this information , but just cut me out of it. I won't go down with any of this. I didn't approve of it to begin with." Thinking about the consequences for so many people made her anger dissipate. Her shoulders fell as she stepped back and leaned up against his desk.

 

[Hellhound]

The closer she came to him, the more something rose within himself. It was something arcane-- something ancient and powerful. It was an instinct, which moved like a warmth from the top of his head, through his heart and gut, coming to rest in his loins. He suddenly knew exactly what he should do next. He should take this woman over his desk, strip her to her flesh, roar triumphantly over-- No.

He shook his head, trying once more to clear his head of the effect she was having on him. By now, she was standing directly in front of him, her finger in his chest. This was the closest he'd been to a female shifter in... as long as he could recall. It must be a pheromone or something, he decided. Some scent which ignited in a male shifter the burning need to mate. Mort had spent decades trying to become human, and he would not allow himself to fall into savagery now-- not after all this time.

Autora became quiet once more and leaned against the desk. Mort could still smell the smoke which had come from her nostrils. It made him lightheaded.

"I, uh--," he began, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry you're mixed up in all this. I don't want to be either. The fact is, my safe is probably the safest place for that information to be. There's no way I could give it to the police yet-- there's so many corrupt cops that there'd be bounties put on our heads the minute it got to the station. And I can't destroy it, because I suspect that lives depend on this scheme being uncovered. I say we lay low for a while, and when the opportunity arises, we get what evidence we need to shut whatever this is down. We're in this together, you and me."

Mort walked over to the desk and stood beside her, their arms touching. He poured another couple of drinks and turned, leaning against the desk beside her. He offered her one of the glasses as he sipped from the other, looking at her earnestly.

 

[Autore]

You and me. She wanted to cry. The first time anyone wanted something to do with her and it was to take down some of the most dangerous people. The glass he offered shook in her hand treating to spill over. The warmth of his body permeated her side. Being this close clouded her senses and had her leaning up against him. Her head softly landed on his shoulder.

How could she just trust this man, this delicious smelling man who broke thru her defenses. What he suggested wouldn't work though. She couldn't hide from her brother. He would know and he would hunt her down. She had seen his cruelty first hand. A tear welled up and slid down her cheek to pool on his shoulder. She had never felt more alone.

Wiping away her tears she leaned away from him. "I'm sorry about that. But I can't hide. He would only find me. But you... He doesn't know about you and I won't tell him. So please just stay out of this and forget about me. Your safer." Before she thought any further ahead Autora gently caressed his rough cheek and brought her lips to his in a whisper of a kiss. Just briefly pressing the plump flesh to his before stepping back.

In another world and place she would have gladly gotten lost in this shifters arms. Hell if she didn't go now she would do just that. "Stay safe for me Mort."

 

[Hellhound]

Mort was stunned to silence when the woman at his side, who only moments before had been ready to fight, lay her head on his shoulder. He could think of no witty remark, no snarky one-liner. He turned his face only slightly to look over at her, seeing only her silvery hair and inadvertently breathing in her intoxicating aroma. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for finally meeting someone who intrigued him so under such terrible circumstances. He listened to her words, and when he opened his eyes, she was bringing her face close to his. He felt the graceful touch of her lips on his own, and a bolt of lightning went through him. The kiss was over as soon as it had begun, but he felt the ghost of that kiss on his lips; he thought he would be haunted by that ghost for the rest of his life.

Autora stepped backward, entreating him to stay out of her brother's scheme for both of their sake. He spent half a second looking into her eyes, and knew what he was going to do.

"Safe be damned," he said. He stepped forward, placing one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek, bringing his face to hers in a full, passionate kiss. The moment stretched into eternity, their lips connected for that second of freedom. He ended the kiss and looked at her.

"I've no interest in being safe," he said, quietly.

 

[Autore]

Tears fell silently down her cheeks. The gentleness of his touch and the rightness of his lips possessing hers refuted all those people that ever belittled her or saw her as useless. That moment in time felt as if they had the world to themselves. Her arms found there way around his waist, resting against his hips. "Your crazy aren't you? That's why you are agreeing to this insanity." Autora eyes glistened with more unshed tears even though she smiled up at him.

Lifting up on her toes she kissed him once again this time it was slow and lingering with a swipe of her tongue begging entrance between his lips. Her hands climb his chest til they rested across his shoulders. His scent overwhelmed her senses and made her feel drunk on just pure male. She waited at his lips til they couldn't breathe anymore before pulling back panting. Behind her eyes a separate consciousness watched back with passionate flames brightening her irises. "What are you doing to me?"