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In the end it was a fairly straightforward plan. Convince a person who distrusted if not outright disdained him (the feeling was mutual) to help him by hiding out and pretending to be dead. Stage a public killing and become the person Hannibal wanted him to be. Lure Hannibal deeper into his trap and get the doctor to act or confess. And if (when) it worked Hannibal would end up in cuffs and in jail.
Simple.
Will nearly laughed. So much if it hinged on him manipulating the situation and the people around him: skills he’d honed with Hannibal. Lately, Will had begun to wonder where he ended and the image he’d created began. It wasn’t like blurring into the mind of a killer. It was more like Jekyll and Hyde, where his alter ego had begun to be more real and more alive than he’d ever felt.
He’d already killed and displayed Randall Tier in the hope of luring the doctor deeper. (Deeper into what? he asked himself but couldn’t answer.) Hannibal had been intensely proud in that moment and Will recognized the way he’d preened under the attention. He did his best to ignore it, writing it off as nothing more than a deep-seated Omegan instinct to respond to praise from an Alpha. And Will was more than his instincts.
Still, it was hard to forget how it felt.
“You’re certain Freddie Lounds will go along with this plan?” Jack asked after they’d been through the details – such as they were – for the fifth time.
“As certain as I can be. She’s suspicious, Jack. Of me. Of Hannibal. She wants … access. And she’s willing to do anything to get it. Including die.”
“This plan relies heavily on your powers of persuasion, Will.”
“And you think considering my charming personality I can’t pull it off.” Jack had the grace not to answer. “I told you I’m a good fisherman.” He paused again, watching Jack’s reaction. “We could always keep doing what we’re doing now. Not involve Freddie, not fake another killing. Give me time to keep reeling him in.”
“You know we don’t have the time for that.”
Will sighed. “You say we don’t. You’re one who wanted to ‘up our game.’ This is what we have to work with.”
“I’m taking a risk here, Will.”
“And I’m not?” Will asked, annoyed. It was Jack who decided Hannibal needed to be caught by any means necessary. At Jack’s sharp look he added, his words soft but firm, “It’s a good plan, Jack.”
And it was. And as suspicious of him as she might be, he knew Freddie would set aside her differences with him to be not only on the inside of the sting, but integral to it. Plus his interactions with Hannibal had already become more intimate and confessional. And while some of the specifics were still up in the air, Will had every confidence the plan would work.
Really, the only problem was that the more Will thought about it, the less he wanted to go through with it.
*
Being seated across from Alana at Hannibal’s table was frustrating, to say the least. He didn’t like the reminder of her on-going place in Hannibal’s life. Of what Hannibal might do to her.
He didn’t like the reminder of her choices, particularly in relation to him.
Especially when she was still trying to look out for him, as though he weren’t an adult capable of looking out for himself. He took a deep slow breath and reminded himself they’d been friends. Once.
And he genuinely didn’t want any harm to come to her.
His flirtation with her felt so distant, and so innocent and naïve. He scrutinized her as she stared back at him, a strange sort of challenge her eyes. Had he really once thought she might care for him for who he was?
A flicker of pain in his chest reminded him that yes, he had. And in a way he still did.
His eyes shifted to Hannibal as the Alpha carved the pig and set plates in front of them. Will didn’t listen closely to the description of the food, instead letting the soothing rumble of Hannibal’s voice wash over him.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think the tension would ease when Hannibal finally seated himself. Nor did it. Instead, Alana seemed more worked up.
Will, on the other hand, felt strangely calm.
The revelation that Freddie thought he and Hannibal together might be her killer was less a revelation than Alana thought; Freddie had insinuated as much when Will spoke with her. The warmly amused look Hannibal gave him was almost worth it, though.
Will chewed, quiet and thoughtful, content to contribute to the conversation only when necessary. He could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him, warm and content.
“Boundaries will always be subject to negotiation.” Alana’s half smile could only be described as cheeky. The sexual innuendo was not subtle, nor was it intended to be. Will wondered what game she was playing. Was she upset at having a third wheel at the table? Did she see Will as some sort of rival for Hannibal’s attention? Will hadn’t expected her to be that possessive.
“It’s just hard to know where you are with each other,” she continued.
“We know where we are with each other. Shouldn’t that be enough?” Will answered calmly but without masking his irritation. She might be Hannibal’s current fling – he couldn’t quite bring himself to think of her as Hannibal’s girlfriend – but his relationship with Hannibal was still none of her business. He resisted the urge to bare his teeth at her, but barely.
Hannibal’s gaze shifted between the two of them in amusement. Of course he was enjoying this. Will watched him, taking in his profile in the low light of the dining room as he looked to Alana for her response.
Will tried to picture Hannibal in handcuffs. Saw his face behind bars. Wondered if they’d give him an orange jumpsuit, or if they’d stick to the plain blues and greys Will had worn.
The thought brought an ache to his chest.
Alana kept giving Hannibal pleased little glances during the meal. She didn’t look at Will and eventually she stopped attempting to include him in the conversation. She didn’t make it obvious, of course, the way she’d never made it obvious she avoided being alone with him. She would never be that rude outright.
He felt Hannibal’s eyes on him now and again, the Alpha’s curiosity at Will’s subdued mood obvious. Will didn’t acknowledge it and he met Hannibal’s eyes only once, looking away almost immediately.
He ate the rest of his food in relative silence, sipping his wine just often enough to be polite. It didn’t compliment the food in the usual way. In fact, none of it was as good as Hannibal’s usual fare.
Or maybe it was only that Will’s enjoyment of the evening had fled.
Normally after the meal Will would linger, enjoying an after dinner drink with Hannibal in his study. This time he waited just long enough not to seem rude before making his excuses and heading for the door.
“I’ll see you out,” Hannibal said, leaving Alana to her own devices. Will could feel her eyes at his back as he walked out of the dining room.
In the foyer Hannibal helped Will into his coat. Will turned and stared over the Alpha’s shoulder as though he could look into the depths of the house and see what Alana was doing. Probably sitting on the couch in the study, drink in hand.
Will didn’t want to leave her alone with Hannibal, but she’d undoubtedly been alone with the Alpha plenty of times. And Will didn’t want to be there anymore. And while Alana might question his choices and he hers, Will could at least acknowledge that she was responsible for her own decisions.
He’d warned her. If she wasn’t going to listen, he might as well leave her to it.
“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself tonight,” Will preempted whatever the Alpha was going to say.
“Is everything alright with your dogs?” Hannibal’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. Will couldn’t meet Hannibal’s eyes. The pain was nearly physical, the ache that Hannibal would ask that, as though he were genuinely concerned.
“They’re fine. Thank you for tonight,” Will added after too long a pause. Hannibal looked back at him with that mild look of his and then squeezed Will on the shoulders.
“Drive safely, Will. I believe the forecast is calling for more snow.”
Will nodded and walked out. The door behind him didn’t shut until he was halfway to his car. He wondered what Hannibal was doing, standing there and watching him for so long, when Alana was waiting for him inside.
Will didn’t turn around to look.
He sat in his car, watching Hannibal’s house, for a long time before leaving. Part of him wanted to wait until Alana left, to watch her walk away and know she was still whole. But the knowledge of what was almost certainly happening behind closed doors sank into him and Will shifted the car into drive, taking off faster than was strictly necessary.
Once home Will took his dogs on a late walk, feeling reinvigorated from the cool air. He had the nightcap he would normally have indulged in with Hannibal and climbed into bed. The time with his dogs and the exercise had lessened the feeling somewhat, but Will still felt strangely sad. He’d been let down by the day. He wished he’d lingered with Hannibal after dinner, sitting by the fire and basking in the glow of their conversation.
It wouldn’t have been the same with Alana there.
It hadn’t been the same.
And now she was there, sitting by the fireplace with Hannibal. His hand was probably on her thigh. Maybe they were kissing. Maybe they’d moved to the bedroom by now.
Maybe not. Maybe Hannibal enjoyed the novelty of doing it on the couch.
Will wondered what the Alpha was like in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, but once the thought entered his head he couldn’t seem to stop himself. How would the Alpha start? A hand on the thigh, sliding slowly higher, a gentle kiss to willing lips? Something rougher? Would he prefer his partner to initiate? Would Hannibal hold him down, pinning him to the sheets with his body? Would he encourage him to be on top, setting and controlling the pace? Would Hannibal fuck him senseless or would he be gentler? Would he bite? The thought of Hannibal’s teeth breaking his skin had Will’s breath coming short and fast and he realized he’d unintentionally put himself in Alana’s place.
He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about it at all. He didn’t want to think about what Hannibal was doing with Alana. The Alpha had damaged Will in so many ways, but it was this betrayal that hurt the most.
Frustrated and restless Will rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow and willing himself to sleep.
*
Freddie was early. Will doubted it had much to do with punctuality and suspected it was more for an opportunity to do exactly what she was doing: snooping.
It had snowed overnight and the powder was fresh, so it was easy to see Freddie’s tracks from Will’s porch to his barn. She must have made quick work of the lock on the door. It wasn’t a difficult lock to pick, but part of Will still grudgingly admired her preparation and tenacity. Her being in the barn hadn’t been part of the plan. He hadn’t factored her penchant for getting past locked doors into consideration.
An oversight on his part. And Jack’s.
Will eased the door open. It squeaked lightly but he doubted she’d heard the noise. He could see through the plastic sheeting that the top of the chest freezer was propped open and although he couldn’t see Freddie behind it, he heard her gasp. He wasn’t sure what part of Randall she’d found. Not that it mattered; it wasn’t as though finding one part of him was better than another.
She slammed the freezer door shut and Will could hear her panicked breathing. He closed the door behind him, taking his time as he shut out the light.
“There’s a very good explanation for all this,” Will said.
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. Her voice was shaking and Will bit his cheek as a thrill rolled through him. To inspire fear was intoxicating in its own way.
He couldn’t see her clearly through the plastic but he could tell she was backing away. Her arms were raised in front of her chest, and Will was sure she had a gun.
“Not just a little bit curious?” he asked, but Freddie didn’t take the bait.
“Get away from the door.”
Will did, pushing aside one of the sheets and stepping in front of it, standing where Freddie could see him clearly. “You know I can’t let you go.”
Freddie kept the gun trained on him as she backed away. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed and she was shaking like a frightened animal.
Will knew frightened animals. He understood them.
“I know you’re scared,” he said, his words slow and his voice level. He moved closer, but with the same slow precision, designed not to startle. “But you only have to be scared a little bit longer. Give me the gun.” He held his hand out, waiting for her to come to him.
There was a moment where Freddie seemed to calm and Will thought she was going to hand him the weapon. But frightened animals are unpredictable, and Will was prepared for the possibility. When Freddie squeezed the trigger he was already reacting. Thankfully the shot was also high – which wasn’t entirely surprising. Even if she’d practiced and was a relatively skilled shot, most people didn’t practice shooting while their systems were flooded with adrenaline.
Or maybe she’d been aiming to miss.
Either way he dove, hitting the workbench and rolling over it and to the floor. Freddie made for the door but Will was faster. His body hummed with the excitement of the chase. He grabbed her, forcing her hand against the shelf. The gun went off again before she dropped it. He tried to grab her other hand to pull it behind her back, but suddenly he was being sprayed in the face by something that burned.
By god did it burn. Closing his eyes against the pepper spray he clutched wildly, getting a grasp of her hair and hearing her scream, but she slipped from his grip. Will snarled. The pain melted away, a distant throb as the world came into sharp focus and time seemed to slow.
He had a crowbar amongst his tools and he grabbed it. Freddie was running wildly, tripping on snowbanks as she made a panicked escape. Will followed, surefooted. It was his property, his territory. He knew the path, and he was not afraid, or even angry. Instead he felt calm. Almost cold, and yet his blood was thrumming wildly beneath his skin.
It was different than when he’d killed Randall, when he’d been consumed with fear for Buster and rage at Hannibal.
He wondered if this was what Hannibal felt, if the world felt simultaneously more alive and more controlled as he stalked his prey.
Freddie reached her car and yanked open the door, scrambling inside. Will picked up his pace, knowing he couldn’t let her start it. If she left, she would share what she’d found. The plan wouldn’t work, which meant Hannibal wouldn’t go to jail, but Will would almost definitely go back.
And if Will convinced her to stay, to take part in what he and Jack had planned, Will would stay out of prison but Hannibal wouldn’t.
Will snarled and began to run. He wasn’t going to prison. But neither was Hannibal.
Freddie was frantic and her fear made her slow. She was still fumbling with the key when Will slammed the crowbar into the glass, the shattering of the window a backdrop to the sound of her screams. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her from the car, feeling some of it rip from her scalp.
She fought him, flailing and grabbing at him. It didn’t matter. None of it affected him anymore. He pulled her back to the barn where he threw her to the ground. He looked at her, scrambling on the ground, her body moving at once too fast and too slowly, the fear and adrenaline combating the cold of her limbs from falling into the snow. Will looked at her and still felt that same sense of calm. He recognized it as similar to the feeling he’d had sitting by Hannibal at dinner. It was not only calm, but a sense of rightness.
He knew what he needed to do.
Freddie tried to turn, but she was too slow. The crowbar hit her directly in the temple and she abruptly stopped moving. Will felt for her pulse. She wasn’t dead, not yet.
Will was more of a fisherman than a hunter, but he was no stranger to the sport. He strung her from the same chains he used for dressing deer, held her steady, and slit her throat in one smooth motion. He doubted she even felt it. Which was a shame.
*
Jack was staring at Will with naked suspicion. Not the feigned suspicion he and Will had discussed when laying out the plan. This was real. This was genuine.
Will looked back at Jack placidly.
“There’s something I’d like you to listen to,” Jack said, and hit play on his cell phone. There were roughly ten seconds of ragged breathing, the heavy panting of someone who was running for their life, then the sound of shattering glass and a terrified scream, then silence. It was no more than a minute before the call cut off.
Was that all the time it had taken? Will wondered. He shivered, knowing it would be mistaken for revulsion and not pleasure. He could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him. And, behind them, Alana’s. He and Jack had discussed involving Alana, needing to convince her as well as Hannibal that Will had become the person Hannibal wished him to be. The more people who suspected Will of being a killer, the more believable it would be.
But despite knowing she would be there, Alana’s presence bothered him. And he suspected Jack had an ulterior motive for her inclusion. Especially now.
Will didn’t acknowledge any of them but instead looked straight ahead at Jack. Trust Jack to genuinely suspect Will and still use that to take down Hannibal. He wondered if Jack was expecting him to be rattled by the meeting and by hearing the voicemail.
But Will already knew about the voicemail. He was the one who finally cut it off. And he’d expected this meeting to happen. Freddie’s disappearance – real or fake – was part of the plan. Jack was a pragmatist. He was going to make it work. Which meant either that he still trusted Will just enough to continue moving forward, or he intended to take Will down as part of the process.
“Her cell signal is dead now,” Jack said. “But the last call was traced to the nearest cell tower in Wolf Trap, Virginia. We have her on security footage from a gas station six miles from your farm.” He gestured at Will.
Will nodded. “Freddie was supposed to interview me. She never showed up.”
“Why are you granting interviews to Freddie Lounds?” Jack asked and Will narrowed his eyes slightly.
They were going with the original script, then. Once again, Will could feel all the eyes in the room on him, but he felt Hannibal’s most of all. He could feel the Alpha’s curiosity. And his pleasure.
He resisted the urge to meet Hannibal’s gaze.
“I owed her one,” Will said.
“Surely Freddie Lounds has more enemies than Will,” Hannibal suggested.
“Not in Wolf Trap.”
“I live in the middle of nowhere Jack,” Will sighed. “If someone wanted to take her it’s not a bad place to do it.”
Jack continued to stare at him suspiciously.
“Do what you need to do,” Will said with a slight shrug. “I have nothing to hide.”
“If there’s nothing else?” Hannibal prompted.
Jack nodded and gestured for them to go. “Will,” he said, as Will was turning to follow Alana and Hannibal out the door. Hannibal paused briefly, looking back at Will before continuing. There was pride in the Alpha’s eyes and Will’s chest warmed with it.
He didn’t acknowledge Hannibal and turned back to Jack, feeling the loss of the Alpha’s presence as he left Jack’s office.
“What the hell happened Will?” Jack asked through gritted teeth. “Where is Freddie Lounds?”
Will shook his head. “I can’t tell you any more than I’ve already told you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Are you accusing me of something, Jack?”
“You’ll be investigated.”
“I know the protocol.”
Jack looked at him silently and then nodded as though he’d made a decision. “Freddie didn’t make a lot of friends in her line of work. But Will – move quickly. This wasn’t the plan.”
“Obviously,” Will muttered and left. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was fully out the door, only to realize Hannibal was waiting for him in the hallway. Will paused and Hannibal approached him, standing just a fraction too close.
“Jack cannot hold you accountable for your proximity to Ms. Lounds last known location,” Hannibal said.
“It’s fine,” Will said with a shake of his head. “He can look at me all he wants. He won’t find any evidence.”
“I have no doubt,” Hannibal purred. Will swallowed and ran a hand over the back of his neck to his shoulder, removing it quickly when he realized he was rubbing unconsciously at his mating gland.
Hannibal’s eyes followed his hand. “Have dinner with me tonight,” the Alpha said.
“Will Alana be in attendance?” Will asked.
“Not this time.”
Will took a step forward, closing some of the distance between them. “Good.” He met Hannibal’s eyes for a long moment, wondering if he was making a mistake. If he was, it was another in a long line of mistakes.
It didn’t feel like one.
He supposed he’d know soon enough.
“I can’t tonight. How about tomorrow?” Hannibal looked disappointed at the delay. Pleased at his reaction, Will took another step forward and added softly: “If you’re hosting again, I’ll provide the meat.”
“Tomorrow it is.” Hannibal’s smile showed his teeth. Will’s eyes were drawn to the sharp points of his fangs and the pulse of heat deep in his core nearly stole his breath. He resisted the urge to step closer and instead drew away.
“I’ll see you later,” he said softly, and turned to go.
*
Will spent the evening in his barn, the fog of his breath expanding in the air as the temperature continued to drop.
He hardly felt the cold. The sensation of it against his skin and in his nose and lungs faded as he focused on the task in front of him.
It had been a long time since he’d butchered a deer, or handled any animal other than a fish, frankly, and he’d never handled a pig before – particularly this variety. Although the basic concept was the same it would be untrue to say it was exactly alike, and he was exercising caution with each one.
Plus, he wanted the end result to be clean and precise. He needed his message to be clear. At least to the one person who might understand it.
The concept was antiquated. It was something he’d seen a long time ago in a severely outdated school textbook at one of the poorer schools he’d attended. He doubted the team would recognize it, but he was banking on Hannibal’s love of obscure traditions and the man’s overwhelming desire to know more than anyone else in the room. The esoteric appealed to him.
The display might have fallen out of general practice before the turn of the century, but Hannibal would recognize it.
He hoped.
The presentation was normally from an Alpha to an Omega, demonstrating the Alpha’s ability to hunt and provide and making the case that they would be a good mate.
Will had found it interesting at the time that Omegas - so often expected to be soft and demure even now, much less at the time it had been in common practice - had the opportunity to turn down their suitor. It was a request to mate, not a demand, and at least in theory everyone was supposed to abide by the Omega’s decision.
He’d often wondered how often that was true in reality and the idea of turning the practice on its head appealed to him. As did sharing the fruits of his labor with the person he hoped would accept his request. He thought about it as he carefully excised a few cuts of meat.
That wasn’t traditional, of course, but there was no way to execute it perfectly. The offering included the removed organs to be placed in ornamental jars, but Will wasn’t a fool. He’d selected cheap pottery that could be found at shops all over Northern Virginia and Maryland.
The pendant around Freddie’s neck that held her blood was also cheap and easily found in shops all over the area.
He would have liked to execute the display exactly as tradition intended, but he wasn’t foolish enough to include something that would point to him so easily.
Once done, he packed everything up carefully and took backroads to Tamarack Park. He was careful to select a wooded section on the edge of the park, far from the children’s play area. He found a tree with strong enough and low enough branches and created a pulley to hoist her up by her hands. She turned as he did, her nude body swirling beneath the snow, showing first her back and then her gaping front and Will continued to pull her up until her hands reached the bottom of the branch.
Rigor mortis had set and then released and her head drooped backward, her slit throat like a gaping smile. Her damp red hair stuck to her skin in streaks, a bit like butterfly stripes, visible beneath the chrysalis before it emerged. The pendant, cheap as it was, shone in the moonlight. Will stacked the jars beneath her, wishing they stood out more against the snow and hoping they wouldn’t be covered by morning. Still, the overall effect was pleasing.
Finally, Will carefully placed her womb back in her chest. He hadn’t been entirely certain about this part of the tradition. From Will’s long-ago reading on the subject the Alpha almost always butchered a male animal as an offering, and in the image Will had seen the penis was removed and tied separately around the animal’s neck. A promise of children.
Fertility, after all, was part of providing, or had been at the time.
He wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about that, or how Hannibal might feel about it, but it was part of the tradition. He hadn’t wanted to string the organ around her neck along with the pendant – it didn’t work exactly the same way, after all – so he supposed this would have to do. A lone organ in an otherwise empty chest cavity.
He stepped back, surveying his work one last time and hoping again that Hannibal recognized and acknowledged it for what it was. And that the Alpha answered him the way he hoped.
He thought of Alana, sitting across the table with a look of challenge Will hadn’t recognized at the time and he growled, softly, unable to stop himself. Breathing out slowly he stepped backward and began to clear away any traces of his presence. Then he headed home. He needed to do some repairs to his barn and he needed to clean out his chest freezer.
The repairs would have to waiting for the morning, but the freezer he would handle immediately. The sooner the better. There was no way there wouldn’t be investigators swarming his property once the body was found.
*
Hannibal was already there when Will arrived, and Will took a moment to wonder how the doctor had beaten him to a crime scene that was practically in his own backyard.
“Good morning,” Hannibal said as Will came to stand next to him.
“Good morning, Doctor Lecter,” Will said, and didn’t miss the quick twitch of Hannibal’s lips.
“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Hannibal asked. Will nodded. He’d known what she looked like, but staring at it in the daylight was something else: disarticulated legs hanging below her torso, pressed tightly together and held by the thick twine that wound diagonally up the body, spaced far enough apart not to obscure the gaping torso and the one organ still within it. The cuts in the muscle, separating different cuts of meat, were obvious even beneath the twine. The two missing cuts weren’t immediately obvious and Will tried not to focus on them. The head lolled back and the hair stuck to the skin. The wrists were bound tightly together with a thicker rope between them, holding the body up. It had stopped swinging and was relatively still. There was snow on parts of the rope and parts of the body, and a small dusting of it had gathered on the jars beneath her.
“Well gentlemen?” Jack asked.
“It’s an offering,” Will said. A feeling of awe still crept over him, as though what he was seeing had come from something outside of himself. The shock of it worked in his favor; there was a quality to his voice that had Jack looking at him with renewed interest but no suspicion.
“An offer, and a question,” Hannibal said. “It seeks a response.” Will’s chest warmed. He knew. He had to know.
“Is it the Ripper?” Jack asked. Will looked at him, startled. He glanced at Hannibal. The doctor looked back at Will with a thoughtful expression.
“Certainly it has the hallmarks of a Ripper kill,” Hannibal answered. It was the last thing Will expected of him. “Missing organs, public display.”
“It’s not him,” Will argued.
“Why not?” Jack asked.
“It doesn’t … feel like him.”
“I’ll need more than just your feelings on this one, Will.”
Will breathed out slowly and was about to say something about how his feelings had been enough for Jack in the past, when he felt Hannibal’s fingers graze the back of his hand. It was brief and subtle, designed to be easily brushed off as accidental, and not even skin to skin contact - but Will still felt shocked by it. He closed his mouth and looked at Hannibal.
“I think we have to consider the possibility, Will, until we have evidence otherwise.” It sounded so reasonable. Was Hannibal really going to allow his alter ego to take the blame for this? Will searched the Alpha’s face but he gave nothing away. Finally Will nodded, a quick jerk of his head.
Once he and Hannibal reached their vehicles Hannibal touched him gently on the elbow. “I do hope Jack doesn’t keep you,” the Alpha said. He leaned forward very slightly and inhaled deeply. “I’m very much looking forward to our dinner tonight.”
“I’ll be there,” Will assured him, pleased that he sounded less breathless than he felt.
*
Several hours later, Will set his package delicately on Hannibal’s counter. It was wrapped in butcher paper and tied with a twine that was similar to, but not the same, twine that had been used on Freddie Lounds. Hannibal’s eyes roamed Will’s body and Will felt it like a caress.
“I’ll make you lomo saltado,” Hannibal said. “We’ll make it together.” He pulled a knife from the block and handed it to Will, who took it from him, slowly. Should he bring up the display? Should he ask for Hannibal’s answer?
“You slice the ginger.” Hannibal indicated a cutting board and Will, now well acquainted with Hannibal’s kitchen, pulled out a piece of ginger and began to cut, chewing on his lower lip as he did.
Maybe Hannibal hadn’t understood what he was seeing. Or maybe this was his way of ignoring it.
Maybe Hannibal preferred Alana.
At the thought Will felt a white-hot flash of rage and he resisted the urge to growl.
Hannibal had scented him earlier. And before that. Hannibal was always looking at him and touching him. Alana was a distraction. There was no way Hannibal preferred her company.
“Will,” Hannibal said, pulling Will from his thoughts. The Alpha gestured to the ginger. “Perhaps not quite so aggressively.”
Hannibal’s eyes danced with amusement.
“What is it you were thinking about as you attacked it, I wonder?”
Hannibal moved closer. This time he did not scent Will subtly, instead pressing his nose to Will’s collarbone and inhaling. Will stood frozen. This was what he wanted, but he was unsure how to proceed or respond.
“Was it Ms. Freddie Lounds?”
“No,” Will said hoarsely.
“Have you paid her any mind, since you saw her strung up in the woods?” Not ‘since you strung her up’, Will noted.
“Why did you let Jack think that was a Ripper display? You know as well as I do it wasn’t.”
“I would rather Jack didn’t find out exactly what that display means.”
Will sucked in a breath. “What does it mean?”
“There’s a ritualistic element to it,” Hannibal said, not looking up but continuing to slice the onion in front of him. “It comes from a very old tradition, that’s fallen out of common practice. Part of the ritual is for the person receiving the offer to make a meal from the meat provided, and to render a decision only after that meal is finished. A last meal, of sorts.”
“A last meal for the condemned?” Will asked. He didn’t remember that part, but then his focus had been primarily on the display. And maybe it hadn’t been in the textbook.
Hannibal smiled softly but still didn’t look up. “A last meal before a relationship inevitably changes.” He paused, pulling the package of meat closer to him. When he finally looked at Will his gaze was heated. “The offer to provide isn’t meant to be one-sided.”
Hannibal served wine with dinner but neither of them drank much of it. Will ate slowly, savoring every bite – and savoring, too, the way Hannibal looked at him from across the table.
Finally they stood to clear their plates, Will following Hannibal into the kitchen. He looked at Hannibal as he placed his dish in the sink. Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s cheek, running his thumb over Will’s cheekbone.
“How did you know?” Hannibal asked and Will didn’t need to ask what he meant.
“I saw it in an old textbook,” he laughed, softly. “I was fascinated by it.”
“It was beautiful.” Hannibal brushed his lips over Will’s. “The pendant was a nice touch.”
“I wish we could break it,” Will said. It was what tradition demanded: a promise sealed in blood.
“The used of animal blood is relatively new,” Hannibal said, his hands moving to Will’s buttons. He untucked Will’s shirt and undid enough of the buttons that he could pull it to the side, exposing Will’s mating gland. Hannibal’s thumb grazed over the exposed patch of skin and Will shivered, his eyes falling closed. “In the earliest traditions, the blood is your own.” And then, without warning, Hannibal bit.
There was a reason mating normally occurred during sex. Without the release of endorphins that came from the physical joining the bit was excruciatingly painful and Will cried out as he felt Hannibal’s teeth pierce his skin. His arms flailed and his right hand moved to the back of Hannibal’s hand, his hand winding into Hannibal’s hair. But despite the pain Will pushed the Alpha closer rather than trying to pull him away. Hannibal’s tongue lathed over the wound, soothing the pain as he did.
It still throbbed when the Alpha pulled away and Will gasped, only to have Hannibal steal his breath with another kiss. He could taste his own blood on the Alpha’s tongue and he deepened the kiss, reveling in the taste.
Hannibal pulled back, his eyes hooded, and began to remove his clothing. Will watched eagerly, as Hannibal bared his chest and Will pressed forward, seeking the juncture of neck and shoulder and biting down with force.
Hannibal’s moan as Will’s teeth broke skin was intensely erotic and Will felt the Alpha’s hard cock pressing against his thigh. He rocked against it was he continued to lick over his own bite mark.
“Hannibal,” Will said, as they rocked together, and Hannibal moved to kiss him again. “We need to leave here. Jack,” Will gasped as Hannibal kissed his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. “Suspects,” he finished, breathless.
“I know,” Hannibal said, pressing Will backward. And Will realized Hannibal was steering him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. And then Will was being guided upstairs and into Hannibal’s bedroom.
He paused inside the door, taking in the open space of the room, the heavy furniture and the suit of armor in the corner. Will raised his eyes at that but Hannibal said nothing, his entire focus on removing the rest of their clothing.
It felt nearly frantic: Hannibal guiding Will to the bed and settling him on the edge, shifting Will’s hips so that he could press inside. Hannibal stood, thrusting into him and milking Will’s cock until Will cried out, and Hannibal pressed his knot inside and Will cried out again, his body shaking and his senses overwhelmed.
As Hannibal’s knot began to soften Will shifted, changing their position so that he was on top, Hannibal’s chest to his back. Hannibal thrust into him lazily until his cock began to fill out again. They moved more slowly the second time. Hannibal drew his fingers up Will’s thighs, leaving goose bumps in his wake, and Will reached behind to clutch the Alpha by the hair again, pulling tightly and feeling Hannibal moan into his neck.
One of Hannibal’s hands moved to a nipple and the other to Will’s cock. Hannibal’s grip was too loose, his movements too slow, and it was a beautiful agony as Will’s body moved slowly toward climax.
“Leave with me,” Hannibal said. “Pack a bag. Leave tonight.”
“My dogs,” Will said.
“Leave a note for Alana.” At her name Will snarled and began to move his hips faster, pulling a chuckle from Hannibal. “I do so love your jealousy, Will. You have never been more stunningly beautiful than you were that night at dinner.”
Will snarled again and Hannibal finally tightened his grip on Will’s cock, and as he pressed his knot inside Will once more, swelling within him, Will came hard across Hannibal’s hand and the sheets.
They panted together, and Will became aware of the sheen of sweat coating their bodies. Hannibal pressed the tip of his nose to Will’s neck, moving it slowly down as he inhaled and placing a gentle kiss over the still sore mating bite. It was still oozing blood and Hannibal licked it clean once more.
“I can’t leave them,” Will said when he caught his breath. He would have to find them good homes, at least. He couldn’t just walk away, no matter the consequences.
Hannibal hummed. “It would be temporary. I’ve been researching how to get them to Florence.”
“Florence?”
“Or any city of your choosing. But I want to show you Florence, Will.”
“Temporary,” Will said. “You’re sure?”
“I promise,” Hannibal answered. “And I always keep my promises.”