Chapter 4-1: Unexpected Problem with the Police

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Copyright © 2020 Kaizer Wolf

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Innocent Devil's Harem | Chapter 4-1: Unexpected Problem with the Police

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Dammit.

"Someone's here," I explained, extremely annoyed. But it was obvious from her expression that she already knew now – the vehicle was close enough for her to hear too.

"It couldn't be your sister, could it?" she wondered. "Maybe she was already on her way to pick me up?"

I shook my head. "I would recognize the sound of her car. This is someone else. They're a smoker too…" I paused as I began picking up their scent. "And there's something familiar about how they smell, but I'm not sure why."

"What do we do?" she whispered. "You're still transformed."

I met her worried gaze. "Well, we don't have to answer the door. We can just ignore them and wait for them to leave."

"Oh, of course." She blushed, seeming embarrassed she hadn't thought of that.

Knowing we could be visible from the half-circle window at the top of the doorway, if someone decided to peek, I held onto her and shifted my weight, lying down on my back with her on top of me. She gasped in surprise from the movement, but I knew from her scent that I'd made her excited and sparked her arousal again.

The person outside – a man, by the sound of the weight in his footsteps – got out of the still-running vehicle and threw a cigarette bud on the ground. I was trying to figure out why his scent was familiar, wondering if I'd just randomly come across it at some point, while he walked up to the front door and began knocking loudly.

My gaze focused on Gabriella's just above mine, both of us staring at each other in surprise at how aggressive he was about it.

The man knocked a second time, even harder, and then it sounded as if he was trying to peer inside – the skin on the sides of his hands leaned against the glass. Finally, when there was no answer, the man tried the door handle…

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when it opened, realizing I'd never locked it after my sister left.

Shit!

Gabriella knew I couldn't be seen right now, so she immediately jumped up and burst into action, running to the front door and yelling at the intruder. "Hey! You can't just come in here! I don't want company right now!"

Surprisingly, the guy didn't even seem fazed by her outburst. "Gabriella Watson, you're under arrest. We're taking you in for questioning."

Clearly, the man's words caught her off guard, as the smell of surprise and anxiety radiated from her body. Of course, due to my sister being a cop, I was familiar with the basic rules of arrest, but everything about this situation seemed weird. I wanted to jump out and protect her, but I couldn't afford to be seen like this by a cop.

Especially not by a cop.

Gabriella was dumbfounded. "I'm…I'm what? But I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed, her tone sounding defeated.

I could hear the man grab her wrist and slam a handcuff roughly on it, instructing her to turn around.

Fuck! What should I do?! What should I do?!

I couldn't transition back to normal when I was under this much stress, and even if I did look normal, I couldn't make the police officer stop! At least, not without getting myself arrested too! And in the end, that wouldn't help her out, which meant there was no way for me to really prevent this from happening.

Who in the hell was this guy? One of my sister's coworkers? Why was his scent familiar?

Suddenly, just as the man secured Gabriella's other wrist behind her back, it hit me like a ton of bricks. All my muscles locked up, as if I was a tightly wound spring about to explode. The man's scent…it was the person stopped on the side of the road last night – the person I'd noticed when telling Gabriella how sensitive my nose was. The man who had been smoking…

Just as my muscles unleashed with the force of a cannon ball being fired, I heard the man whispering in her ear.

"You're under arrest, so I can finish the job my accomplice failed last night."

Pure terror erupted from Gabriella's pours as I exploded over the couch and toward the front entrance, body slamming the guy straight out of the door. Shockingly, the man really was a cop, or at least dressed like one.

He flew through the air over six feet before his back slammed into the ground, flipping backward once before flopping onto his stomach. But he recovered quicker than I expected, coughing as he looked up to see who attacked him.

I watched his eyes widen in true horror as he saw me, quickly jerking his hand down for his gun.

In a flash, I dashed out of the doorway to intercept him, reaching for the gun as the man fired. My hand just barely grabbed the barrel as I felt the bullet pierce my palm, burying itself into my shoulder. I roared in pain as I ripped the gun out of my assailant's hand and tossed it, yanking my fist back to smash his face in.

However, unexpectedly, I hesitated and held my strike back as the throbbing pain in my hand and shoulder awakened a hidden need deep within me.

For a split second, I lost myself.

My teeth were suddenly at his throat, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand and instantly crushing it in my jaws as I took a large gulp of the blood that rushed out, followed by another. However, the moment I began taking my third gulp, I realized what I was doing and shoved the man's body away from me, horrified at myself.

I was in complete shock, unable to believe this was real, but then the bullet in my shoulder caught my attention as it was violently shoved out of my muscle and fell to the ground. I focused down on my hand just in time to see the bullet wound finish closing up, as if it'd never even existed.

Disgusted at myself, I fell to my knees and covered my face with my hands.

My victim was still alive, struggling to breathe despite the fact that his throat had been nearly ripped out. Blood was squirting out of his neck onto the ground with each heartbeat, the pulse slowing down until it stopped altogether.

He was dead. And the world around me was completely silent.

It felt like nothing moved for an eternity, but I knew better. In reality, it was only mere seconds before Gabriella reacted. I heard her hesitantly take a step toward me, followed slowly by another. I could smell her fear – I was sincerely afraid too, having no idea I was truly a monster, even despite my appearance. However, she continued to slowly walk up to me, before she dropped to her knees, her wrists still handcuffed behind her back.

I didn't budge an inch, all my muscles locked up, afraid of how she'd react if I moved.

She then leaned forward slightly, resting her forehead between my shoulders against my bare skin. I flinched from the touch, my anxiety spiking.

Neither of us said anything for a painfully long few minutes, before she finally whispered against my back. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, my words finally coming out in a rush. "I didn't know that would happen," I said urgently, afraid she wouldn't believe me. "I've…I've never been hurt before. There have been a few times I accidentally ran a knife over my finger, but it didn't even break the skin." I sucked in a sharp breath as my eyes began to sting – because I wasn't safe. It wasn't safe to be around me. "I guess a gun is different," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Gabriella. I really am…a monster."

She didn't try to deny it, instead asking a different question. "Do you think…you could control it? If you got hurt again?"

I was quiet as I thought about it. "M-Maybe," I admitted in a shaky voice. "I think it just took me by surprise. Getting hurt like that, getting shot, and then the urge that came with it…" My voice trailed off.

"And your body has already healed itself?" she wondered quietly.

"Y-Yes," I managed. "I'm pretty sure that drinking…" I couldn't say it.

I lifted my head a little and peeked through my fingers at the pool of blood on the ground next to the dead body. Unlike just a few minutes ago, I didn't have the urge to drink it anymore, which I assumed meant that I'd been satisfied the moment I consumed enough to heal myself.

However, the sensation of drinking blood had been unlike anything I'd experienced before – the dark crimson fluid never made it to my stomach. Instead, the moment I swallowed it, it felt like my body absorbed it directly into my tissues, creating an overwhelming warmth that spread all throughout my insides.

I removed a hand to wipe my mouth, discovering that there didn't appear to be any blood on my face either, even though I was certain I should be covered in it – drinking blood from a gaping wound wasn't like drinking from a straw. It was more like drinking from a water fountain or watering hose.

Gabriella must have realized I was looking at the body, because she lifted her head off my back and whispered to me again. "Can you turn around, please?" she asked politely.

I turned my head to glance at her from the corner of my yellow and black eyes, before slowly complying, shuffling on my knees so that I was sideways compared to her. I then sat on my heels and averted my gaze.

She was now physically above me, since I'd sat down, while she remained on her knees. She seemed disapproving of the fact that I wouldn't look at her, but I couldn't be sure. At least, not until she commented on it.

"No, look at me," she demanded.

Slowly, I focused up at her, sincerely feeling ashamed. Because I was no different than the man who I just killed. My eyes widened in shock when I realized her emerald gaze was endearing.

"You saved my life," she whispered. "Again. Thank you. You have no idea how terrified I was when I realized it was going to happen again." Her face scrunched up a little as tears appeared in her eyes. "So thank you."

"I know," I whispered, referring to her fear. "I could smell it." I then sighed heavily. "I really am sorry."

In response to my words, she abruptly sat down on her heels and leaned toward my chest, twisting as she did so. Shocked to have her suddenly falling in front of me, I quickly reached out and collected her in my arms, pulling her face against my bare chest.

She looked up at me shyly, her cheek pressed against my dark gray skin. "Thanks for catching me," she whispered.

"Are you alright?" I asked in concern, wondering if she almost passed out.

She nodded immediately. "Yes. I just thought you might be unwilling to touch me unless I made you." She smiled slightly. "And I can't easily make you when I'm handcuffed," she teased, her smirk growing larger, before her expression turned solemn. "I can see you feel horrible about it, but I don't think you should be. You were going to have to kill him anyway. It wasn't like he was just going to leave us alone. He'd probably keep coming after me for the rest of my life. And no one would believe a cop was a serial killer – not when there isn't any solid evidence."

I stared at her in disbelief, mostly surprised that she'd anticipated how I'd react to her asking me to hold her. And then I was pensive as I considered the rest of what she said. "I guess you're right," I admitted, focusing on her vibrant red hair strewn across my arm. "But still, I think how I kill matters. I don't take pleasure in it – that's why I just stab them in the heart. To get it over with. I feel like it's a lot more humane than snapping a neck or stabbing them in the head. I'm not trying to make them suffer. I'm just trying to stop them from taking someone else's life."

"Which!" Gabriella said forcefully. "Is why you are not a monster!"

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