Part One

Adrian Peters sat in his car and looked at the house. He knew that Jeff Smith was inside. Jeff’s wife had died two years earlier, leaving him to care for their six-year-old twin daughters, China and India, by himself. They were identical twins and they reminded Adrian of little porcelain dolls.

Jeff spent most of his time at home, writing books for children. Adrian prided himself on his abilities to be, firstly, a real man, and secondly, to gather information. Jeff seemed to lead a fairly boring life, just like the others he had preyed on. Jeff Smith had a live-in nanny that took care of his daughters while he wasted his time writing books.

The look on Adrian’s face was one of utter disgust. Couldn’t he find a real job? He looked down on weak people and he refused to tolerate that weakness, especially within himself.

Jeff went jogging at five thirty pm every evening with Travis Michaels, another pack member. Travis would drive to Jeff’s house and they would jog together.

Travis lived on the other side of town and Adrian had already decided that he would be next. He first had to deal with this weakling that called himself a man.

After their run, Jeff returned home and seldom left it. The nanny, who was an Alaskan native named Yura, seemed to do everything. She was nineteen and he wondered if Jeff entertained her after the children went to bed.

Yura received all the delivered packages and he had not once seen Jeff open the front door. She did all the shopping and took the girls to school and picked them up again. She picked up his dry-cleaning and Adrian assumed that she also did all of the cooking as he never once saw take-out being delivered.

‘It must be nice to have everything done for you,’ he thought as he made notes in his little book. That thought also didn’t sit well with him. Jeff Smith was the prime example of what a man shouldn’t be like.

He had gone to the Building Department located on 4th Avenue and spoke to the Building Official. He got copies of the house plans and had studied them extensively. The front door opened to a spacious foyer, the living room was to the right and the dining room to the left. From the dining room you could go to the kitchen, scullery and washing room.

From the living room you could go to the drawing room, the library and a guest bathroom which was down the hall and connected back to the foyer again. Upstairs there were four bedrooms and three bathrooms. He assumed that Jeff had converted one of the bedrooms into a study and that’s where he would find him.

His plan for Jeff Smith and the twins had remained the same as it had been with his other victims. Why change a plan when it’s been working all this time? He smiled as he realized that he had a modus operandi now. He mentally went through his plan one final time and sat waiting patiently as he tapped his fingers along to the beat of some song on the radio.

He would wait for Yura to come back with the girls, enter the house under his ruse and subdue her. He didn’t think that she was a wolf, so it would be easier to overpower her. Then he would go for the girls and finally subdue Jeff with the gun. He would then make Jeff watch as he killed the girls in front of him and finally shoot him.

Perhaps he should just shoot Yura as well, even if she wasn’t a wolf, she was fraternizing with the enemy. It had been almost three weeks since his last eradication and he felt a great urge to kill a wolf.

He was lost in thought as he sat there and his mind went back to the Sinclair family. He had felt immense pleasure when he realized that the accident scene he had arrived at was the one where Karani Sinclair had presumably swerved from her lane, rolled her car and ended up in the bay.

He had to hide his smile as they pulled her crumpled car from the bay and covered her broken body with the silver blanket. He had wanted to be the one to inform her family of her demise, but the Chief had sent a senior officer. His frustrations only increased since he couldn’t find his release in their agony.

He had sat in his car, watching her funeral and saw that traitor, Robert Jones, outside the church. He had a bitter taste in his mouth as he wondered why his partner had been there. Robert hadn’t spoken to any of the Sinclairs and it seemed later on like he had only escorted his mother there. She obviously didn’t know what they really were! No decent person would ever associate themselves with such evil. He needed to speak to Robert and assess where his loyalties lay.

Killing wolves was a passion that consumed him so fully that it was all he could think of. He had a better understanding now of that light in Uncle Igor’s eyes when he had spoken of the dead women. He knew why he had killed so many of them. It had been so easy, as it had been easy for him too. His uncle should be revered, but instead they had him locked up like some animal! It infuriated him.

He watched as Yura’s car slowed in the driveway and he slid down in his seat. He wasn’t in his police uniform but he still intended to use his badge that he would show to her and claim that he was working undercover. People were such suckers when they thought that they were a part of a real-life crime story and especially on the side of the hero. People only tended to hear what they wanted to hear.

He gave it thirty more minutes before he exited his car and walked up to the house. He rang the doorbell and heard footsteps approach as the wooden floors creaked. It wasn’t Yura that opened the door and he looked up into the eyes of Jeff Smith instead. He faltered a bit since he hadn’t expected him to open the door.