Chapter 45

"You smell like adrenaline," Elaina said accusingly as soon as he walked through the door. "What happened?"

Rob laughed and pulled her into his arms. She struggled weakly against him, and he laughed even harder when he realized the afterburners were firing off small bursts to counter her struggles. She froze and looked up at him.

"Rob?" she asked meekly.

"Remember that guy who hit on you at the studio last week?" he asked. She nodded. "He decided to ramp it up tonight and tried to put me in my place. It didn't work out so well for him."

He released her when she stood tall with a grim look on her face. "I'm going to kill him."

Rob pulled her stiff body back to him and he rubbed her back soothingly. He felt her start to relax.

"I've got it covered, sweeting." He heard her purr at his use of a familiar endearment. "I busted up a few lockers with him. Then Archer tossed him out. He won't be a problem anymore."

He shrugged out of his cloak and stowed his gear. Elaina followed him around, asking questions and generally pestering him. He filled her in on the details of the fight while he ate the dinner she'd prepared.

They ended up on the couch after he ate. It was when she was grilling him about what he'd learned that she found out he'd managed to drop his teacher during his first sparring match.

"Elaina," he said excitedly, "I have never felt so... capable in my whole life." He held his hands out and clenched his fists. "These hands knew what to do. He'd make a move and my body would move with him." He dropped his hands then rubbed the tip of his nose briskly, making a face.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued abashed. "He nearly handed me my ass in the beginning. It was all I could do to stay out of reach. Then, like a light coming on, it all made sense. I could see where one thing flowed into the next, then I saw how the flow could be guided to where I wanted it to go." He stood and paced the room, stopping in front of Elaina.

"Even now, I can see images in my head of how I could've done better, how I could have taken advantage better. It's ... liberating."

He bent down and scooped her up in his arms, making her wrap her legs around his waist. He held her tight and did a pirouette on the rug. Elaina squealed and held on tight, enjoying her lover's buoyant mood.

Out of the blue, he suddenly asked, "When was the last time you fed?"

Startled by the sudden change of topic, her brow furrowed as she considered the question.

"Not so long that I have a need, but I could use a little bite it you're offering." She nibbled playfully at his neck, squirming in his arms for position.

"How 'bout we hunt," he whispered seductively in her ear. She pulled back to look at him and saw his irises glowing softly at her.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked quietly. The thought of seeing him really fight was turning her on, and her eyes clouded over with rainbows, glowing softly back at him.

He set her down and walked to the foyer. He opened his briefcase and took out a folded newspaper. He'd recently acquired the habit of reading the daily news, having developed an interest in at least the local news; he still thought the sports page was a waste of paper. He snapped it open as he walked to the kitchen, spread it on the table and pointed to a police artist's sketch at the bottom of the page.

"I know you said you didn't want to be some kind of superhero, but this guy needs killing," he said with quiet conviction. "I'd thought ... hell, I'd fantasized about finding this guy myself and killing him with my bare hands."

He saw she was getting agitated and pressed his advantage.

"The paper said this guy targets single women early in the evening, before anyone would begin to worry about their safety. He grabs them from the street and takes them to the closest alley or abandoned building, then he ties them up and gags them. He rapes them for hours. And when he's done? He strangles them and leaves their bodies for the rats."

He saw her nostrils flare as her body geared up, her lips parting to show the tips of her fangs. He went in for the kill.

"Elaina," he growled, "You're a predator. I don't think you need to feed; I think you need to hunt."

Rob saw the last of the rainbows fade from her eyes to be replaced with the verdant glow of her irises. He saw his own eyes reflected in hers as they brightened in response to her predatory instincts. A smile full of teeth spread across her face.

"We hunt!" she snarled.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bedroom. Telling him to stay put, she dragged a large box bearing a leather crafter's logo out from under the bed. She heaved it to the mattress, put her hand on top and looked at him.

"This was supposed to be a birthday present," she said. When he gave her a puzzled look, she said, "I asked your mother, okay? Never mind that."

She flipped the lid off the box and began pulling out the contents. First was a pair of leather pants, obviously too long for her, in black. Under that was a full-length black leather duster. A second box produced a tall pair of buckled motorcycle boots with thick rubber soles. She went to the dresser and brought back a heavyweight black woolen pullover with a thick rolled collar.

The last box she brought out was much smaller and had the logo of an elite supplier on it.

"This was more for me than you, but it should serve for this."

With a wicked grin, she pulled out what could only be a jock strap made of black leather, with a pair of stainless steel straps running from the waist down into the crotch, with three cross straps welded to the 'v' to form a cage.

She waved her hands at the ensemble, then crossed her arms waiting for his reaction. He stepped over and ran his hands over the duster and fingered the pants. He looked at her with wonder in his eyes, then he stripped off, holding his hand out for the jock strap. When he looked at it, he saw that it was no different than any other jock strap he'd seen except for the metal straps and the leather. He saw that the straps crossed over at the base of the cup and continued up, framing the buttocks and ending at the waist in back. He looked at her with mischief in his eyes.

"I don't see anywhere for the padlock. Isn't that the point of these things?"

"No," she admonished. "That is not the point. Put it on and quit messing around."

He stepped into the jock and secured it in place with the buckles positioned over the points of his hips. The waistband felt stiff and springy, as if steel straps were embedded in the leather. The inside was brushed leather and surprisingly comfortable. He looked at her in surprise when he realized it was a roll cage for his man parts.

"See?" she commented. "I pay attention. Can't have you getting hurt."

Next were the pants, the leather feeling as stiff as it looked. He struggled to get them on, then pulled them off again when he realized he couldn't roll them up to put on socks. After getting them back on, Elaina helped out by pulling down the ankle zippers, snugging them to his legs. She told him to put on the shirt before he tried stretching the pants. When that was done, he did several deep knee-bends, stretching the pants to allow him room to breath, the quality of the leather making that easier to do than he'd expected. He had to sit down to pull on the boots. The duster was last of all and fit him like a glove. He didn't have a full-length mirror in the apartment, so he did the best he could in the bathroom.

"I like it," he said with a grim smile and an intense look on his face. He turned to leave the bathroom and caught Elaina studying him, her head tipped down and looking up at him through her bangs, her eyes glittering and her lips parted, allowing her fangs to show. The tip of her tongue ran across her lower lip and withdrew.

His smile changed to one of happiness. "Now all I need is the hat."

She darted to the bedroom. There was the sound of a box hitting the floor and she came back with a black leather gambler-style cowboy hat. He reached reverently for the hat and settled it over his hair. The brim was gently curved down front and back, and it shaded his eyes. He turned to the mirror.

"Harry Dresden never looked so good," he said in a hushed breath.

While he played with his look, Elaina put on her own hunting leathers. Instead of a duster, she had on her leather hunting cloak.

"Ready, lover?" she cooed. "It's time to kill something."

"You know," he commented, "We look much too dangerous. We might scare off our target."

"He'll never see us coming, lover," she growled. The tiger was in the driver's seat and she wasn't about to be denied. The rapist was a dead man walking and didn't know it. Rob almost felt bad for the monster.

Almost.

They took the Mustang and parked it downtown near where the majority of the rapes had taken place. When they got out of the car, they drew some attention, hearing comments from the sidewalks about hit squads. As they stalked down the sidewalk, Rob even heard a comment about the Qwarm. He wondered who the sci-fi fan might be.

And stalk they did. Elaina moved like the predator she was, but Rob had adopted a stride, almost a persona, that showed him to be a budding predator. Rob smiled to himself when he thought he might be the only predator on the street wearing a roll cage.