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The Wolves of Berlin

Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Coercion, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Death, Exhibitionism, First Time, Horror, Lesbian, Monster, Murder, Oral Sex, Reluctance, Teen, Author: BlackRonin, Rating: 0, Source: sexstories.com

Antoine as they strolled out of the cafe. They parted in opposite directions. Bethanie had one more meeting. The shadows were long by the time she reached the church. Churches always made her nervous, another Chastel trait. She wheeled her bike inside, relieved to find that the place empty except for her contact: the Jesuit, as he was known, a middle-aged priest. Everyone, it seemed, knew the Jesuit. In the very first days of the occupation he'd made a name for himself smuggling refugees out of country. How he had remained free and alive so many years was anyone‘s guess. God had blessed him, maybe. When she arrived he was sweeping broken glass off the floor. One of the church windows had shattered. "A bomb," he explained. "Not here. Outside." "Was anyone hurt?" "Not in here." Rather than throw the broken glass away he poured it into a box. "Every part of the church is holy," he explained. "I couldn’t part with a fragment of it any more than I could part with one of my hands." He went to the confessional. Bethanie followed, though it made her more nervous still. Churches were good for meetings because there were multiple exits. Trapping herself in a tiny box with one door ran contrary to everything that kept a smart agent alive. Besides, it reminded her too much of a coffin. But there was nowhere else so private, and if she couldn’t trust the Jesuit of all people then the movement had been doomed from the start. So she closed herself in and settled on the kneeler (another ... thing she didn't care for; a Chastel shouldn’t kneel to anyone, her aunt always said) and muttered the appropriate words, but before she could say anything more the Jesuit whispered through the screen: "You're in danger." It was an odd thing to say. Of course she was in danger. They all were. That was the whole idea. But the Jesuit's voice communicated a particular sense of urgency. "Why?" she said. "I know who you are," he said. "I know that your name is Chastel." Bethanie twitched. Twice in one day someone knew her real name! Had the Jesuit, of all people, set her up? Was Kerman waiting with a cadre of police right outside the vestibule? The urge to reach for her gun welled up again, but she pushed it down, exhaling slowly. "What if it is?" "Your ancestor Jean Chastel killed the werewolf of Gevaudan almost 300 years ago. On his deathbed he swore an oath that his descendants would never rest until all monsters were wiped from the face of the earth." "A family legend." "It's not a legend. Your aunt showed you that it's true." Bethanie turned her head. "Did you know my aunt?" Then she bit her tongue. "No, don't tell me that. Just tell me why this is important now." "There is a werewolf in Paris." The back of Bethanie's neck prickled. "You're sure?" "I saw it with my own eyes. It killed Max Heiliger. I drove it off with wolfsbane hidden in a crucifix." Bethanie sat back in the vestibule, ordering her thoughts. She felt that her entire life up until now she‘d been sealed inside an ...