No longer hungry, the hulking beast began to tremble, collapsing to the floor. It began to shrink back to a smaller size, and shed its fur. Its muzzle retracted, and the three sets of breasts became simply one set. The tail slithered back into the body, and soon there was simply Esmerelda, naked on the floor.
She stood up, surveying the carnage, and smiled. "That'll teach you to take advantage of a girl," she laughed. Calmly, she walked into the bathroom to clean up. She didn't care if anyone had heard the commotion; if anyone bothered to enter, it would be a simple matter for her to dispose of them as easily as she had disposed of the boy.
She entered the shower, her senses still heightened, as they always were after a kill. Her sex drive was kicked into overdrive as well, and she had to resist the urge to "scratch her itch," as it was. It was a brutal and erotic catch-twenty-two that she was in. Fucking made her want to release the beast, and releasing the beast made her want to fuck. Normally she could control herself, but the three nights of the full moon always made her lose a bit of her willpower. Esmerelda was glad that she wasn't as weak as many others in her clan, though. She knew tonight that many of her clanmates were already transformed, unable to even be near the full moon's light without losing total control. She knew she was different from them, most likely due to her royal lineage. "No," she corrected herself, "Not different, superior."
After finishing her shower, Esmerelda calmly put her clothes back on, then searched through Duncan's pants pockets until she found what she was looking for. She took his car keys, needing a way to escape, and took his wallet. She'd lucked out, she noted as she checked for money. Apparently he either had a part time job, or had been saving for awhile, as there was nearly $100.00 in the bill section. She took his school I.D, card, as well as his driver's license to avoid easy identification of the body once it was discovered. What was left of his corpse was fairly mutilated; the police would probably have a tough time identifying the body until the boy was reported missing by his parents. Esmerelda figured that would easily give her a day or two headstart.
Leaving the motel room, she slipped the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, locking it behind her. She wasn't concerned about fingerprints; hers weren't on file. Even if they had been, police would have assumed she'd been kidnapped or dragged off somewhere to be raped and killed. They would never think that a young woman would do such a horrific murder. To a degree they'd be right; a young woman HADN'T done it, it had been a fully matured werewolf.
Esmerelda took the car and drove out onto the highway, the tangy taste of blood still in her mouth. She loved taking the young boys; their meat was sweeter and their blood held an energy in it that she couldn't find in the elderly, or even most adults. (And she certainly had tried.)
Truth be told, Esmerelda was much closer to thirty than she was to sixteen, but werewolves age much slower than the average human. She enjoyed that fact, as it gave her much easier access to the young ones without arousing suspicion.
She was getting closer to her camp now, and much of her wanted to join her fellow gypsies in the moonlight revel. Still there would be another two days before they moved on to another town, the majority of the pack confined to their human forms until the next full moon. Esmerelda cherished her time alone, particularly when the moon was full, and this town seemed to have a wonderful potential for hunting. She debated the merits of going out hunting again, as the night was young.
She still had to find her mate, and it was hard to do that with the clan around, whether they were furred or not. She'd had a prophetic dream that her love would not be of the clan, and she would meet him when none of her clan was with her, and she aimed to find him. That had been three years and several dozen victims ago, but stil she looked. Her clan was eager for her to take a mate, and most of the men in the clan did their best for her to pick them, rather than "an outsider". But the men of the clan did little for her, physically or emotionally, or even intellectually. She knew they wanted her as much for the status they would gain, as for her beauty. That simply wouldn't do; the royal bloodline had standards. A simple man would not do to father her children and continue the line. She needed someone with nobility and strength, as well as a love and respect for the killing beast that she was, and he would become.
With all of that on her mind, she approached the turn that would lead her to the backroad that led to her camp. She paused, trying to decide where she would go.