Jason made his way through the store, ignoring the stares of the customers and staff. He could hear
whispers, gasps, see the mixture of shock and awe on people's faces. But he had more important things
to deal with right now.
He went to his office, careful not to touch anything with his blood-covered hands, and used his elbow to
activate the communication crystal he'd purchased for emergencies. It was this world's equivalent of a
telephone, a magical device that connected to the city's guard and police services.
"Garria City Guard, what is your emergency?" a crisp female voice answered.
"This is Jason Mercees, owner of Mercees Department Store on Merchant's Row," Jason said clearly. "I
need to report a self-defense incident. Six individuals attacked a woman in my store and threatened my
staff and customers. I was forced to neutralize the threat. All six attackers are deceased."
There was a brief pause. "Did you say six deceased, sir?"
"That's correct."
"And you're certain they're deceased? Not injured?"
"Very certain."
Another pause. "We're dispatching units immediately. Please secure the scene and don't let anyone
leave. We'll be there within minutes."
"Understood."Jason ended the communication and sat back, taking a moment to process what had just happened. He'd
killed six people. Six living, breathing beings were now dead by his hand.
He waited for the guilt, the horror, the regret. But it didn't come. These men had been chasing a terrified
woman, had threatened to do unspeakable things to her, had attacked him and threatened his people.
They had made their choice, and he had responded accordingly.
In this world, strength mattered. Justice was often swift and brutal. And Jason had the power to enforce
his own justice when necessary.
The authorities arrived quickly, as promised. Jason heard the commotion downstairs—authoritative
voices, the sound of many boots on the floor. He cleaned his hands as best he could with a cloth, then
went down to meet them.
The Garria City Guard had sent a full squad—ten guards in polished armor, along with several
plainclothes investigators. Leading them was a woman who immediately caught Jason's attention.
She was a wolfkin, tall and athletic, with russet-colored fur and striking green eyes. She wore a guard
sergeant's uniform that was tailored to accommodate her form, and she carried herself with the
confidence of someone who had seen plenty of action. A nameplate on her uniform read "Sgt. Wendia
Holt."
"Mr. Mercees?" she asked, approaching Jason with a professional demeanor. "I'm Sergeant Wendia Holt.
I'll be handling this investigation."
"Sergeant," Jason acknowledged with a nod. "The scene is in the outdoor and garden department. I've
had it sealed off, but the bodies are still there."
"Good thinking," Wendia said. She gestured to some of her guards. "Secure the scene. No one in or out
except investigators." She turned back to Jason. "I'll need to take your statement, as well as statements
from any witnesses."
"Of course. I have two direct witnesses—my employee Tina and the woman who was being chased,
Sarah. There are also numerous customers who saw at least part of what happened."
Wendia nodded, pulling out a small notebook. But as she moved closer to Jason, something changed in
her demeanor. Her nostrils flared slightly, and her eyes widened. She inhaled deeply, and Jason saw her
pupils dilate.
His enhanced pheromones, the supernatural scent that attracted women to him, were hitting her full force.
And as a wolfkin, with her heightened sense of smell, the effect was even more pronounced.
Jason could almost see the internal struggle playing out on her face. Her professional demeanor warred
with instincts that were screaming at her, telling her that this man—this powerful, strong, dominant male—
was exactly what she needed. Her wolf instincts were howling: HIM. MATE. MATE. MATE. MAKE PUPS.
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling slightly as she tried to focus on her notebook. "Right. So. Um.
Could you... could you walk me through what happened?"
Jason explained the sequence of events clearly and concisely. How Sarah had burst into the store being
chased by six men. How they had threatened her and, by extension, his staff and customers. How he had
defended them, using necessary force to neutralize the threat.
As he spoke, Wendia's eyes kept drifting from her notebook to his face, then down to his arms, his chest,
his hands. She was barely writing anything down, too distracted by his presence, his scent, the sheer
magnetism he radiated.
"And you... you killed all six of them?" she asked, her voice slightly breathless. "By yourself?""Yes."
"With your bare hands?"
"Yes."
"That's... that's incredibly impressive," Wendia said, and there was no mistaking the admiration—and
desire—in her voice. She reached out, almost unconsciously, and touched his arm. Her fingers traced
over his bicep, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. "You must be very strong."
"Strong enough," Jason said with a slight smile.
Wendia seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled her hand back, her face flushing beneath her
fur. "Sorry. That was... unprofessional." She tried to refocus on her notebook. "So, um, the attackers. Did
you know any of them?"
"No. I'd never seen them before today."
"The woman they were chasing—Sarah, you said? What's her relationship to them?"
"I don't know yet. I haven't had a chance to speak with her in detail. She's in my staff lounge, recovering
from the shock."
"I'll need to interview her as well." Wendia made a note, then looked up at Jason again. Her eyes lingered
on his face, and she unconsciously licked her lips. "You know, what you did... defending that woman,
protecting your store... that's very heroic."
"I did what needed to be done."
"Still. Not many people would have the courage. Or the strength." She moved closer, her voice dropping
slightly. "I find that very... attractive."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Sergeant, are you flirting with me in the middle of a crime scene
investigation?"
Wendia's eyes widened, and she stepped back quickly. "No! I mean... maybe? I'm sorry, this is very
unprofessional. It's just... you smell really good. Like, really, really good. And you're so strong, and..." She
trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm making a fool of myself."
"You're fine," Jason assured her. "I understand. And for what it's worth, I think you're quite attractive as
well."
Wendia's tail, which had been tucked down in embarrassment, perked up slightly. "Really?"
"Really."
She smiled, a genuine, pleased expression that transformed her face. "Well. That's... that's good to
know." She cleared her throat, trying to regain some professional composure. "But I should finish this
investigation. Let me go check the scene, and then I'll need to interview your witnesses."
Jason nodded, and Wendia headed toward the outdoor department, though she kept glancing back at
him as she walked. Jason could see her tail wagging slightly, betraying her excitement despite her
attempts at professionalism.
The investigation took about an hour. Wendia and her team examined the bodies, took measurements,
made notes. They interviewed Tina, who gave a clear and detailed account of what she'd witnessed. They
interviewed Sarah, who was still shaken but managed to explain that the men had been chasing her, that
their leader Trex had been her ex-boyfriend and captor.They also interviewed several customers who had seen parts of the incident. All of them corroborated
Jason's account—the men had been the aggressors, Jason had acted in defense of Sarah and his store.
Finally, Wendia returned to Jason with her conclusion.
"Well, Mr. Mercees," she said, her tone official but with an undercurrent of warmth, "based on all the
evidence and witness statements, this is clearly a case of justified self-defense. You acted to protect an
innocent woman and your customers from a credible threat. No charges will be filed against you."
"I appreciate your thoroughness, Sergeant," Jason said.
"Please, call me Wendia." She smiled at him, then seemed to remember something. "Oh, I should
mention—we've identified the attackers. They were all members of the Blue Fang Syndicate, a beastkin
criminal organization that operates in Garria. The leader, Trex Carver, was a local Capo—a mid-level
boss."
"Should I be concerned about retaliation?" Jason asked.
Wendia shook her head. "Honestly? Probably not. The Blue Fangs respect strength above all else. You
took out six of their members, including a Capo, single-handedly. They're more likely to leave you alone
out of respect—or fear—than to seek revenge. But if you do have any trouble, don't hesitate to contact
me directly."
She pulled out a small card with her name and a communication crystal frequency written on it. As she
handed it to him, her fingers lingered on his, and she looked up at him with those striking green eyes.
"I mean it," she said softly. "Any time. Day or night. For any reason." The implication was clear—she
wasn't just offering professional assistance.
"I'll keep that in mind," Jason said, tucking the card into his pocket.
Wendia seemed reluctant to leave, finding reasons to linger. She asked about the store, about how long
he'd been in business, about his plans for expansion. She complimented his strength again, and his
courage, and his business acumen. She touched his arm several times, each touch lingering a bit longer
than necessary.
Finally, one of her subordinates cleared his throat pointedly, and Wendia seemed to remember that she
had other duties.
"Right. Well. I should get back to the station and file my report," she said reluctantly. "But I meant what I
said. If you need anything—anything at all—please contact me."
"I will," Jason promised.
"And maybe... maybe if you're not too busy sometime... we could get a drink? Or dinner? Just to, you
know, follow up on the case. Make sure you're doing okay after such a traumatic incident." Her tail was
wagging again, and there was hope in her eyes.
Jason smiled. "I'd like that."
Wendia's face lit up. "Really? That's... that's great! I'll contact you soon then. Very soon. Maybe
tomorrow? Is tomorrow too soon? I don't want to seem too eager, but—"
"Tomorrow is fine," Jason said, amused by her sudden nervousness.
"Tomorrow. Right. Good." Wendia nodded, then seemed to realize she was still standing there. "I should
go now. Goodbye, Jason. I mean, Mr. Mercees. I mean... I'll see you tomorrow."She finally managed to tear herself away, though she looked back at him several times as she left. Jason could hear her giving orders to her team about the cleanup crew that would be needed to deal with the bodies and the blood.