Issue # 24- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp

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Mikel falls back to the door that the winter wind sucked closed and opens fire in the dimly lit club at the pouncing animalistic shapes. Rabid snarls and agonized screams reverberate off the multiple video screens that line the dance floor. Blood explodes over the plasma monitors; bodies crumple to the freshly mopped tiles.

The Guardian drops and rolls barely avoiding a huge male that slams into the door, bullets riddle the massive wolf/human as it slides to the floor mortally wounded.

Pushing to his feet he drives an elbow backwards at a slighter form that comes up behind him, his hair covering his face keeping the direction of his gaze hidden. Spinning quickly both Glock`s fire finding their mark in the cheetah like male.

Rayvenwing swings to the right to find the lone remaining ani-morph regarding him carefully as it pads with care around its fallen employees. The muted blue lights fall on her obsidian fur making Sister Mary`s pelt glisten. A deep purr thunders in the feline`s chest reminding him of a housecat. A taste for flesh burns in those golden eyes though.

“Are you willing to talk now?” he asks training both barrels between her glowing cat eyes. She scents the air deceptively, her snout goes low to the floor then she laps at a warm pool of blood making Mikel grimace. A low throaty sound comes from her. Amusement at his displeasure? “I seek but one answer Mary.”

He knew she would devour the fallen ones for that was their way. They never left meat to spoil. He keeps his guard up as the large panther lifts her bloody muzzle and runs a long rough tongue over her whiskers before she shifts back to her human form.

“Are you so easily offended Mikel? Forgive me, Guardian?” Sister Mary asks as she begins to circle him tossing back her waist length gray hair to show him her firm black breasts.”Or do you find yourself rigid to take me?” she inquires playfully. His breath slows purposefully for her pheromones were filtering through the cloth over his nose already. ”Or are you more inclined to mate with my brother?” she inquires with an arch of a brow.

“I prefer my bed partners be female and without mange.”

That raises her lip he sees with pleasure. He would not be toyed with like a field mouse and well she knew this, or should he amends tasting her aroma on his tongue now.

“Bastard pawn of the Echelon!” she growls across the tables at him. Mikel lifts a lone shoulder and brow.

“Your taunts faze me little. I seek your brother Gallo. Where can I find him?”

“Check between your witch`s legs,” she snarls wickedly, her sharp night vision picking out Ephra`s charms. “Or you may check between mine,” she teases lying her stomach over a table to expose her tuff to him; his ragged inhalation at the sight is all she need hear. He was hers.