About Territory
by Kit Zheng
57 pages
/ 22500 words
Available file types - html. lit, pdf, prc
Things haven't been going well between Chief Nick Gretzky and his
newest recruit, former big city cop Clayton Detweiler. Both men are
growing restless as their relationship, which was all about compatible
needs, has begun changing. Then Clayton disappears, just as an old enemy
of Gretzky's, Emil, turns up in town.
Emil wants nothing less than Gretzky's territory -- all of it, including
Clayton. And he seems to know just how to push both men to the very
edge. Will Clayton side with Gretzky, and show his boss what they mean
to each other? Or will he and Gretzky succumb to Emil's wicked games?
Sample
Prologue
Nikolas' father kept him at bay, a strong hand on his shoulder, holding him still and steady. Nikolas tensed for another forward lunge, but his father's hold was unyielding.
"Nikolas," the boy's father barked. The father did not look at his son; he had eyes only for the stranger. The interloper, the intruder. Nikolas felt the rumble of his father's growl through the hand on his shoulder.
"Your pup's eager, Anatoly. Let him come. I'll teach him to be a man."
The stranger was handsome, but something about his teeth made them look like rows of pegs set in his gums. He didn't look so much older than Nikolas, but he was powerful; even Nikolas could see that.
"No!" Nikolas' father said sharply. "He's not like you and I."
"Oh? No? How could you resist sinking your teeth into your own sweet flesh and blood? Doesn't he deserve to--"
"Enough, Emil! You're not welcome here. Please leave."
"Why should I?" the stranger asked. Rippling like the reflection of light on water, something monstrous wavered in and out of being over the man's rangy shape. Nikolas gasped; his rage evaporated, and he instinctively ducked behind his father's back like a boy much younger than twelve. His father's hold, slipping down to his wrist, became a comfort, protective. Nikolas' personal shame gave way to pride in his father, who stared down the stranger with no fear.
"You're not welcome here."
"I'll be plenty welcome if I kill the Chief and take his place."
"No!"
"Nikolas!"
Nikolas felt his father's hand seize the collar of his shirt, dragging him back so hard he fell to the ground coughing. The stranger's laughter burned him almost as badly as his wounded throat.
"Even if you kill me, you won't be welcome here. You're strong, yes, but not that strong. Not yet."
The stranger's mouth twitched, but after a pause, he fell back a step. "You're right. Not yet." His eyes never left Nikolas' father's as he backed away and swung a leg over his motorcycle. Nikolas waited for his father to relax beside him, but his father did not move, did not let go of the back of his neck.
Then the stranger dropped his gaze to Nikolas. The boy froze and his father made a strangled noise; the sound filled Nikolas with terror, even more than the stranger's deliberate, tooth-filled grin. "Not yet," the stranger repeated, winking at Nikolas, and then he was gone, leaving only the roar of the motorcycle lingering in Nikolas' ears.
Nikolas flung himself into his father's huge arms.
"It's all right, Kolya, all fine," his father soothed him, patting his back.
But Nikolas knew his father was lying. There had been fear in that wordless sound his father made. And it was not even close to the full moon.