Dangerous Diabolical: Book 1 (Iridescent) ✔️

Chapter 2 - Dead Bodies | Edited

Cushiony soft cotton embraced me in a cocoon of bliss that was bed. Slumbering the morning away was the sole aim until I was forced to slave away in the fluorescent lighting of food shelves. So when I was awoken by a very rude, unapologetic doorbell ring, I, of course, ignored it.

Wiggling my toes and pulling the duvet under my chin in a disgruntled sigh, I tried to resume being in an unconscious utopia. Despite all the efforts to dissuade unwelcome visitors from approaching the property, I'd additionally placed an extensive list on my door of all the reasons I would not be answering it. If they were; religious sects, cold-callers, charities, broken down, looking for a lost item or simply 'I'm not selling anything, but...' people, then they were wasting their time. The large steak I'd eaten last night had removed my pressing hunger so there wasn't any need to talk to any human. Otherwise, it may have been tempting to invite them in.

Persistently, the doorbell rang again.

And then again.

And then again. Followed by a knock.

Groaning, with a few muttered obscenities as I threw off the covers, stumbling out of the bedroom in a half-lidded daze. A biting crisp chill hung in the air as the lit fire had long since simmered out. Hopping quickly from foot to foot, prickling goosebumps broke out down my back as I skirted the cold floor, trying to locate my slippers and failing. A few more diligent knocks wracked, causing me to clench my jaw and give in attempting to warm my feet, heading for the door and entrenching it open instead. That was it! The glare of daylight burst in just as a new doorbell trill began.

This gave me a moment to assess the man standing at the door for the duration of the jovially obnoxious chimes that played out their melodically depressing sequence.

Very few humans leave an impression on me. For one, they all looked boringly similar. Without a power signature, it was very difficult to differentiate them. They mostly carried the same scent; cleaning products, transport fumes, sex and milk. Those in the community smelt more like their real selves over their human disguises, therefore it was more fun to try and tell them apart. They were usually individually distinguishable by an uncommon trait.

With the first impression I quickly brushed this male off as another human. He carried the boring cleaning products smell and petrol fumes - no sex though - what a boring evening he must have had. His rough stubble was breaking through a clean shaved chin from the morning.

No fun at night, and he was early to rise? What a nightmare.

He was tall and slender, yet not bulky as he was sporting some lean muscle, visible by the suit shirt that was tucked in against a trim waist.

Establishing the best impression of having literally anything else better to do, I glowered at him. He was on my territory and had completely ruined my morning. The man softly raised a thick inquisitive eyebrow, his dark eyes meeting mine - and not flinching. If he had sensed my annoyance, externally he remained infuriatingly calm.

My brain narrowed in on my predator genes and fired them at him in an assault of BE AFRAID HUMAN vibes, with an added grumpy morning flavour to scare him away extra quickly. When he didn't even offer so much of a flinch, I struggled to be the one not to take a step back. First, the guy last night refused to turn tail and run, and now this one? What were they putting in the water these days?

Before me he didn't break out in a sweat; not even a twitch, not even a tremble. I was glad my hands resided on either side of the door frame so it hid the slipping control over my human guise. It was impossible to think that I might be losing my edge, so why was this human not afraid? Heart quickening I wasn't sure whether to suppress a gulp or a growl. My nails were beginning to look more like claws every second.

If he wasn't going to leave, maybe I could keep him. His sinewy limbs meant he had to be a runner. Already showing he was hard to scare, meant he would be fun to hunt and most of all seemed to be travelling alone - this was the human I'd show Willow for winter Solstice - it would be a challenge to build fear in him, breaking him slowly, making him scream for mercy. My teeth began to sharpen behind my lips and saliva almost began pooling out of my mouth. Logic dictated now was the best time to bonk him on the head and eat, but my instincts pointed at this being a risky manoeuvre.

A soft breeze carried more of his scent into the room. Dusky fur, knotted with bracken. Blueberries, large old oak trees. With a deep inhale it was as if we were standing in a thunderstorm, lashings of rain, the clap of magical spells being cast on a haunted night.

It smelt of prey; deer and human yet neither, was he something else entirely? The disguise was almost flawless, down to the dark eyes and soft eyelashes. He even knew enough to fake a human scent and could do it successfully. If it wasn't for the fact his magic drew from the storms, opposite to the heat of a warm summer's day, his power signature may have remained undetected enough to have slipped past mine.

Now, the deeper I inhaled, the more fake it seemed. It was too good. Standard human scents could be picked apart, cleaning products for one; the lemon was too overpowering for the chemicals, and he didn't have a sour smell of what may have needed cleaning. There was no breakdown of mould or fats lingering in his undertones.

There was only one organisation where someone turned up on your doorstep in a suit, and where creatures this unusual were useful employees; the SPCC, Supernatural Policies and Control Council.

And there was only one reason they'd be knocking at my door. They'd found the stupid weirdo human from last night, investigated his body and I must have somehow left some kind of trace to link it back to me. For the first time in nearly a century, I was unsure. Was he going to haul me away? Would I be killed seconds from now? Imprisoned for an eternity?

Without waiting for him to speak - and emitting a startled squeak - I slammed the door shut.