Veronica throws her arms around my neck, and wraps her legs around my waist; then, pulls us in closer together to firmly press our bodies up against one another. She moans…
“Mmm … I almost forgot how good your cock felt shoved up inside me. Oooo; this feels so good.”
Gideon decides to speak up in my head…
“I’ll admit; it does feel good … but remember, Casper; this is Veronica Childress, here … or, should I say, ‘Madame X’; as she’s been frequently referred to as, recently.
Even back then; she’s always had the tendency to use sex as a means of getting money.”
And, what … sometimes we use money as a means of getting sex. So; there’s really not that much of a difference between us. When you think about; essentially, we’re both two sides of the same coin.
Meanwhile … up in the Rainier Pack territory…
**Pomona’s POV**
Bellona and I are still at our pack’s hospital … earlier today, my grandmother, the hospital’s Director, summoned for me to go there; while, Bellona is there on official DSD business.
Over the past few days; it seems that the Burke household wasn’t the only place where trouble has been brewing. Recently; there’s been an unusually high influx of transient rogues gathering all along the Pacific coast; all the way up from southern California to the Washington-Canadian border. And, on top of that; there’s been an increasingly alarming number of rogue-sightings reported near … and within … our pack’s territory.
As it so happens, there were reports of a few rogues possibly trespassing in our territory’s outskirts last night; including the vicinity around where this incident had occurred. Therefore; this morning’s bizarre accident at one of the pack’s sawmills is highly suspicious … currently being investigated as a possible act of terrorist sabotage perpetrated by the rogues… and; the reason why Bellona’s at the hospital, right now.
Apparently one of the huge, industrial-sized saw blades had somehow detached while in motion, and wildly flew across the factory floor; ending up slicing open an employee’s abdomen in the process. It was a miracle that they were able stuff the intestines and organs that were starting to spill out back in; and, transport him to the hospital to be operated on before he bled to death. … This is why I’m here.
On these rare occasions, when my blood is desperately needed to save the life of a werewolf who has sustained a life-threatening wound; I’m discreetly ushered into the hospital for my blood to be secretly drawn and administered. Typically though, when my blood is needed to aid less extreme cases; my grandmother will come to our house, and draw a few tubes of blood to take back to the hospital herself.
Actually, now that I think about it, the last time that I was needed to rush over here was around ten years ago; when a pregnant she-wolf from … coincidentally enough … the Stratus Pack was visiting the area, and was severely injured in a bad car accident.
With just a pint or two of my blood transfused into even the most seriously, fatally-wounded werewolf; the mutated DNA and RNA compounds in it will not only increase their chances of survival … but, in fact; a full recovery can be expected. However; there are still limitations to its effectiveness.
To begin with, the enhancement derived from these genetically-mutated compounds is of a short-term duration; and, will fade away after the healing process is completed. My blood must also be transfused into them within three to four hours after being drawn for it to be effective; so, my blood can’t be stored for later use.
And, most important of all; my blood can only be used in pure-blooded werewolves. Not even the occasionally rare, half-breeds … those offspring conceived from werewolf and human copulation … can receive my blood. My blood having contact with even a trace of human blood will become highly toxic; like a deadly, venomous poison … with no existing antidote available for it.
This is why years ago, when my condition was first discovered … and; looked into through research exclusively overseen by my grandfather … it was decided to keep this part of my inflection on a need to know basis; with only a few others privy of his findings. This exclusively small group consisted of my grandparents; a few of their trusted doctor and research colleagues at the hospital; me, obviously; and … naturally … Bellona, of course.
No one else in my family, nor the others in the pack, are aware about this; including the Elders and Alpha Gordon. The reason for this precaution … according to my grandmother … is not that they’re all necessarily bad, or evil; but, a lot of them do tend to be a bit miserly and opportunistic, at times … and, have been known to shamelessly take advantage of any pack resources to make a quick buck.
That said … my blood could theoretically become a virtual goldmine for our pack, in their eyes; and, they would most definitely try to exploit its medical usefulness within the entire werewolf community. Or; worst case scenario … the one my grandparents feared the most … is that, because of its deadly potential when mixed with human blood; they worried that my blood may be used for nefarious purposes, as some sort of biological weapon.
And, this is also why, when my grandmother heard that I was to be married to the Stratus Pack’s Alpha, and be sent away down to California; she’s been adamantly protesting the whole arrangement … almost as tenaciously as Bellona … although; she can’t provide any specific details why she’s opposed to it.
Therefore … even though she’s a highly respected Elder in our pack … her demand to call it off keeps falling on deaf ears. According to Alpha Gordon and the other Elders; this alliance is too important for our pack’s interest to be thrown away without a significantly good reason.
I’m waiting in the hospital’s lobby for Bellona to finish getting statements from the mill workers who brought the victim here, so we can go home together; when Dad and Alpha Gordon enter the building. Upon seeing me, they head directly over my way; and, Dad gruffly asks…
“What are you doing here; Pomona … I thought you never get sick. That may actually have been your only minutely redeeming quality; and, now you can’t even claim that, anymore.”
Before I can answer; Alpha Gordon imploringly interjects…