Better Off Dead

by Sarah Noffke

  “Yeah, but I’ve got a few minutes,” Zephyr said, his voice deeper suddenly, his eyes on the carpet, like he was concentrating.

  Connor had left. Again, he’d run away from the Institute, when he promised that he wouldn’t. Why had Adelaide staked any hope in him? He’d proven that he was a deserter, just like her father. But he was going to change into a werewolf too and he was out there, in the world. And the bloody idiot had gone after the most dangerous werewolf. Even changed he didn’t stand a chance.

  “You have to go after him now,” Adelaide said, looking up at Zephyr, who was now breathing so loudly she could hear it.

  He nodded, a heaviness in his gray eyes. “I agree.”

  “Take Rox and Rio. She’s your alpha while changed. Do everything she says,” Adelaide said, not believing she was putting Rox in charge. However, she was the only one prepared to handle the wolves when they changed.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Zephyr said with a sharp nod, turning and striding away at once. There was no time to waste. The three needed to dream travel and generate at a GAD-C immediately. Once the werewolves changed, they’d lose the knowledge and be unable to do anything so complex.

  “And Zephyr,” Adelaide said, as he walked away, making him pause and turn back to her.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Bring him back alive so I can kill him,” Adelaide said.

  “You got it,” he said with a shaky smile.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Reports on werewolf attacks in Los Angeles line up with when the weres should be changing. Based on records it is supposed that the attacks are being done by subject Hunter Smith, who was released from prison one week before being abducted.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  The location in the file had been incredibly specific. Once Connor had dream traveled to the GAD-C in Dallas, he’d generated and had no trouble finding the spot where Wolf X would be in a just a few moments.

  It was unlike Connor to take a risk like this, charging after Wolf X. However, since he’d been rescued from his own attempts at suicide, something had awakened deep inside the lone wolf. He was angry, but not at himself, like usual. He was livid that Olento Research had abducted him and changed him into a werewolf. Before, he’d been slightly complacent to it all, just thinking it was a part of his sick fate, which was always riddled with disasters. Now, though, he looked at the other men in his pack, and saw that none of them deserved this fate. Olento Research and Mika Lenna needed to be stopped.

  Hot fury coursed through his blood when he thought about a mega werewolf murdering members of his pack. He knew this took a more silent hostility inside of Zephyr, but in Connor it was a loud ferocity. And Adelaide’s plan was probably a strategic one, but Connor needed to be the one who went after this monster. If the lone wolf really didn’t care about his life, then why not finally use it for stomping out evil? Before, if he died from drugs then his life would be meaningless, but using it to end a horrible evil actually made him feel like he was worth something.

  Adrenaline surged in Connor’s veins. The telltale sign that he was about to change into the werewolf. It felt like the drug. Better than the drug. It felt like power.

  Mika was going to be angry. Not angry. Murderous. Grant knew he shouldn’t return to Olento Research, but what choice did he have? Mika would find him using the tracking device buried in his wrist. Yes, he could cut it out, but he’d always be haunted. The only thing that felt right was enduring his punishment. It’s what he deserved. Yes, he couldn’t control himself. Yes, he had murdered and failed to do what Mika had asked. He needed Mika to do whatever it was that he thought was right to him. Grant had failed and would endure his chastisement like a man.

  Distracted by the possibilities of what Mika would do to him, Grant nearly slipped on a patch of ice on the runway. Not in werewolf form, he was less graceful. He righted his footing, pulling his coat tighter around him. The jet had been delayed due to an ice storm that had hit Dallas. However, the plane and the runway would soon be de-iced and Grant would be on his way to Mika, his creator and also his warden.

  The thick reddish hairs slipped through Connor’s pores. From behind the airport fueling vehicle, he couldn’t be seen easily. The dark fog also helped to cloak him, but he was aware that the traffic control station could have eyes on him. Soon everyone around would see him, he thought as his claws pierced through his fingers. That was always the most terrible part of the change, always accompanied by the wolf’s voice, rejoicing that it was finally free.

  A growl, high-pitched and long, tore from Connor’s mouth, slicing through the thick winter air. Grant paused his march to the jet, where a flight attendant stood in the entryway ready to greet him. Connor had recognized Grant immediately from the labs. He was the guard who often took Connor out of his cell, chaperoning him to the treatments. According to the file this was the same man who was Wolf X. However, now he didn’t look quite so menacing in his long black trench coat and sporting a flat top to match. How did this man think he could be intimidating wearing a hairstyle that was popular among ten-year-olds?

  Grant spun around, his nose high as he sniffed the air. The howl had alerted the security guard to Connor’s presence, but now his senses told him the full story. He turned, facing the fueling vehicle, where Connor had a view of Grant between the cab of the truck and the tank. Now was his chance, while Grant was still unclear about the situation and also unchanged.

  Connor stepped out into clear view, his shoulders perched up by his ears and his fangs bared. “Hey, fucker!” he said with a growl.

  Grant’s eyes narrowed on the werewolf. He recognized the features immediately, even though they were partially obscured by reddish hair. Connor. He’d found him. And he’d done it when he was changed. But that wouldn’t really matter now. Connor was no match for Grant. No one was. And the timing on this couldn’t have been any better. If he stayed in control then he could capture Connor and bring him back to Olento Research. Maybe Mika would forgive him for killing Hugo if he had Connor in tow. He was considered one of the more valuable werewolves, although Grant had no idea why. Staring at the werewolf before him, the one that looked perched and ready to pounce, he saw no discernable special attribute to him. However, Mika had a specialty for picking up on talents in people, so if he thought there was something special about Connor then he was right.

  Grant slipped off his black trench coat and dropped it to the ground, his eyes on Connor the entire time. This is going to be fun, he thought, as he activated the change process.

  The guard slipped off his black trench coat, although it was below freezing. Connor narrowed his eyes. He needed to make his move now, but he was highly aware that this guy was more prepared with combat skills, being a guard. However, Connor was a werewolf and his instinct told him that he knew how to fight too, without having prior knowledge. And the werewolf was tired of him thinking, of stalling.

  Just as the seams of the man’s shirt split, Connor rushed forward. The werewolf handled the icy pavement fine, enjoying the freedom to burst forward. Running was in the wolf’s blood. Running free was in Connor’s blood. In that moment he felt a tender affinity for the wolf inside of him, the one he’d resisted for so long. The one he’d run from. In that moment he understood the wolf as much as he needed to in order to feel bonded to it. He appreciated the wolf for what it was, rather than what he wanted it to be. He was grateful for the wolf inside of him, as one is for the instinct that keeps them alive.

  The man’s shirt tore in multiple places as his muscles enlarged suddenly. A scream burst from his mouth as canines grew and black claws emerged from his fingertips. Connor halted a few yards from Wolf X, noticing multiple things at once. The flight attendant had retreated and now was in the cockpit pointing through the glass, showing the pilots the unbelievable sight outside. Two werewolves on the runway. It must have looked more than bizarre. He also noticed the features of Wolf X. He wasn’t like Connor with minute
facial features, but rather had a pronounced snout, his head large and misshapen. The animal looked like it hadn’t been created exactly right or this time it hadn’t mutated completely. It was hideous and yet it looked more like a werewolf than Connor. It was more wolf than him.

  With a clawed hand it ripped the rest of the frayed shirt from its body. Now torn fabric sat in a puddle next to the werewolf. When Frankenstein’s werewolf grabbed at its blistering boot, Connor made his move, diving at the monster. His claws slammed into the beast’s shoulders, but it didn’t tumble down, even being on one foot. Like meeting a wall, Connor was the one who was pushed back from the unsuccessful assault. Unflustered by the attempt, the animal simply raised its head and stared at Connor, its obsidian eyes glowing across the dark space.

  Overhead a spotlight flipped on, making both werewolves narrow their eyes. A crew of police officers in the terminal stood, facing out of the blanket of windows. The spotlight they’d turned on shone from above, attached to the outside of the airport terminal. They were watching, but unprepared for how to deal with two werewolves fighting on the tarmac. Good, Connor thought, whipping around and throwing a fist at the werewolf’s chin. This time Wolf X’s face swung to the right from the force, and it stumbled backward. Again Connor, who had never really been in a fight, swung his foot around, knocking across Wolf X’s body. But the animal didn’t budge. He was steady as a rock on his feet, which made no sense to Connor. Undeterred, Connor ripped forward, his clawed hand dragging across Wolf X’s face. And even though its black fur protected his skin, Connor still felt his reddish claws pierce skin and rip through flesh. The animal howled its complaint, retreating back a step.

  Interesting, Connor thought, bouncing on his toes. Adrenaline felt like heroin, making him want more. Making him feel invincible.

  The door to the jet closed suddenly, catching Connor’s attention. The pilot and flight attendant were locking themselves in the jet away from the deranged werewolves. Smart move, Connor thought and then from his peripheral he caught the movement too late. Wolf X’s claws shot forward in an uppercut, catching Connor under the rib. The knife-like claw stabbed into Connor’s torso, blinding him with pain. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. The act of drawing in a breath almost ended him right then. Wolf X seemed to almost smile as he lifted his hand in the air, lifting Connor on it, like he was pinned to a spike. Again Connor opened his mouth, but only blood spilled out, dripping down to his chin.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Connor Luce has twice run away from the Institute, which the Head Official deems as unstable and unreliable behavior. The presiding agent in the case has deemed him ‘dead meat.’”

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  Escorting two werewolves through DFW airport was by far one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of Rox’s life. But FBI badges did wonders for curious TSA agents. They knew better than to question her when she flashed the badge and said she didn’t have time to answer questions. “Dangerous prisoners,” she said, motioning to Zephyr and Rio. They both had their hooded heads down, and their hands pinned behind them, making them appear handcuffed. Hopefully only Rox could hear their ragged breaths and slight growls under their black hoods. She knew it wasn’t easy for either man to remain in control when the wolf probably wanted to feast on travelers hurrying by. The good news was that the Olento Research jet was parked in a private terminal where there were fewer people and minimal security.

  Rox spied Rio pull his hands in front of him. She shot forward, pressing the Taser close to his hip. “Don’t you think about it, Rover,” she said in close to his head. He stiffened, repinning his hands behind his back. She’d electrocuted him a total of three times since they’d generated their bodies at the GAD-C. Like a dog, these werewolves were easily trainable. “I promised you flesh, but we’re not there yet. I’ll unleash you in a moment. Only a bit farther,” she said, pointing to a door. “Just up ahead there, and you’re free. Do what you want, but only to the big bad wolf. Don’t hurt Connor.”

  Rio nodded under his hood, making a grunting sound.

  The smells were the hardest part for Zephyr. He could smell Rox, and it was more than alluring. He desperately needed to sink his teeth into her, to slice her open and lick at the flesh. However, that would never work for Rox and so the smells of the people in the area were now the tempting aroma pulling at his restraints. But Rox had already tased him once and he knew that she was leading them to a bigger and better feast and she had promised a fight. The werewolf could hardly control its excitement. A fight and feast. It was the best possible combination.

  So distracted by the smells and the many things vying for Zephyr’s attention, he didn’t realize they’d gone through a door until the icy wind hit him. It was a welcome sensation since the hood was hot and blocking his face and had caused his brow to sweat. The wind howled through the hood, seeming to call Zephyr’s name. It fed him in a way that meat never could. It spoke to his spirit, telling him he was unstoppable. He was the wind.

  His head drew back suddenly when Rox pulled down his hood and then Rio’s beside him.

  “All right, you puppies. Fetch,” she said, and pointed in the distance where two werewolves stood. One was massive, strange with his lopsided head. The other was without a doubt Connor. A desire to protect, to guard, raced through him. Zephyr took a step forward just as Wolf X’s claws ripped forward and he thrust them straight into Connor’s stomach, pulling him up off his feet as he did.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Hunter Smith, the werewolf supposedly responsible for the attacks in Los Angeles, was released from prison through a special request by Parantaa Research. His aggressive tendencies were a variable for testing and now appear to prove are increased exponentially due to the wolf DNA.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  Connor struggled to bring oxygen into his lungs. The claws were in him, seeking to meet his spine. Now he didn’t feel anything but the panic. The panic that this moment was his last. He gurgled on a breath as he stared down at Wolf X, who brought him in closer to his face. Its long snout caressed Connor’s face as it sniffed him, seeming to drink in his smell. Revulsion so deep churned inside of Connor, but any attempt to free himself was futile. He had come all this way for nothing. Only to die. He’d run away again, disappointing Adelaide. And now she’d hate him forever. Connor closed his eyes, feeling his life slip away. At least it wasn’t drugs that killed me, he thought, sipping on a breath, which he believed would be his last.

  Zephyr bolted forward, feeling the increased speed the wolf lent him. It was as if he was moving like the wind, graceful and quick. Rio’s footsteps were in rhythm with his own.

  “Plan, boss?” Rio said. They were roughly fifteen yards from Wolf X.

  “You take out his legs and I’ll follow up with an assault. Then you take over and I’m on Connor,” Zephyr said as they ran. And then they were on the scene in that same moment.

  Wolf X rotated his head over his shoulder just as Rio slid forward, knocking his feet into the strong legs of the beast. To Zephyr’s surprise, the monster didn’t budge, but rather merely stepped back, releasing Connor from his claw. His limp body toppled to the ground, where he changed back into a man almost immediately. Was he dead? Or just too depleted to fuel the werewolf? Zephyr didn’t have another moment to think on it. With the werewolf not put off balance, it was Zephyr’s turn to assault him. He shot his fist at Wolf X’s chest, able to get a solid shot, since the thing was swatting its bloody claws at Rio, who was stumbling to a standing position. However, again the assault to the werewolf’s chest had little effect. Instead of tumbling backward, he turned his black eyes in Zephyr’s direction and rammed his ugly head into Zephyr’s, sending him backward. But to his surprise he noticed that Wolf X also fell backward from the act. Rio tagged Zephyr out, lunging at the werewolf while he was momentarily stunned.

  Zephyr shook his head, noticing that Rox had
Connor’s arm around her shoulder. She easily pulled him up, pinning his weight on her side. Rox dragged him a couple of feet before speaking. “I’ll get him back. I want you two back too as soon as you’re done with Sergeant Ugly,” she said, heaving Connor another step.

  Then Connor’s eyes fluttered a bit, blood dripping from his mouth. And through a gurgle Zephyr heard him say, “His head. That’s his weak spot.” With his eyes still closed, Connor’s head lulled back, as he completely passed out.

  “You heard him, Z,” Rox said, hiking the guy up higher on her. “Take out his head.”

  Zephyr nodded, feeling the wolf in him sprint forward in his mind. It was getting easier to share his body with the beast. And the wolf was tamer now when necessary. It seemed to understand rules and reasons. Zephyr turned his attention back on the fight just in time to watch Rio fly backward several feet from a bitch slap to the face. This werewolf was incredibly strong and more deranged than them. He could read the aggression in the animal and it looked like it could tear him in two. A howl spilled out of Wolf X’s mouth and Zephyr launched a fist at his mouth, his knuckles cutting open from the impact. The fangs were impossibly sharp, sinking deep into his hand. But the assault hadn’t been without merit. Wolf X’s face swung to the side and right then Rio dived at his midsection, tackling the hideous beast to the ground.