The Wolfborne Saga Box Set

by Cheree Alsop

  I didn’t want to admit that she was right. Now that she pointed it out, the itching was enough to drive me crazy. I needed to remove the stitches, but couldn’t reach those around the back without considerable effort. I didn’t want to ask Virgo or any of the other members of the team. Admitting to weakness went entirely against my core.

  But Fray already knew. As much as I didn’t want to accept it, letting her help was the best possible option; that really meant there weren’t any good options.

  “Hurry up,” she said. “I have other things to do with my time.”

  I sucked in a steeling breath. “Fine, but I’m going to grab pants first.”

  “Thank goodness,” she replied in a dry tone. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any sense.”

  I hurried past her to the main crew area, then paused when I realized I had no idea where to go.

  “Last door on the left,” Fray called out without following me.

  I walked down the hall feeling completely out of my element. The scents of the other crew members wafted from beneath the closed doors I passed. Virgo had spent time in the second to the last one, but his scent was fainter than the others.

  I turned the doorknob to the last door and pushed it open. The sight of a single bed, a dresser with a lamp on top, and a simple chair made me pause. There were whispers of scents, lingering tales of whoever had brought in a change of clothes for me along with the clean sheets, folded blankets, and the pillow that rested on top of the bed, whoever had cleaned the floors last, and a faint chemical smell that told me demons weren’t the only pests at the Division; they apparently had an ant problem as well.

  The lack of any recently strong scent told me the room had been unoccupied for some time. The fact that it was now mine filled me with a strange mixture of regret and longing. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back; was I actually to have my very own room? It wasn’t much. I had no doubt there were hundreds around the Division compound. Yet this one was mine. I had never had my own room before.

  I pulled open the top drawer before letting myself delve further into that thought. I reminded myself that I was a prisoner; regardless of my intentions in coming back to the Division, I was there to keep the werewolves safe from Captain Roarsh’s retaliation. Just because I got my very own room out of the deal didn’t mean I should get all sentimental. It was merely a space with a bed.

  I grabbed a pair of pants from the drawer and pulled them on without thinking too hard about who knew my size to have gotten them perfect. I had no doubt the Captain’s resources when it came to his personnel department delved deeper than I wanted to know. The fact that there were clothes for me felt personal enough. A plethora of sizes would have been easier to accept than a row of the same, perfectly fit size of pants followed by a drawer of my size of black Demon Crew tee-shirts beside plain tees of various colors.

  I clenched and unclenched my jaw as I studied them. A tingling feeling ran across the back of my neck. I glanced once around the room, wondering if the Captain had cameras in there as well. I wasn’t reassured when I didn’t spot any. I grabbed a plain tan tee-shirt and shoved both drawers closed.

  On impulse, I hung the towel on a hook by the door. It was a strange thing to do, but the faint voice in the back of my mind whispered, “Mine.” I had no other possessions. The towel may have been just a rectangle of cotton from the shower room, but it was the closest thing to something I owned. It at least smelled like me, and the animalistic need to claim the room was one I couldn’t deny. The towel was a far better option than peeing on something. The thought made me smile. At least Fray couldn’t accuse me of being that much of a beast.

  I glanced back once at the room before I left. It was as plain as could be, yet the simple confines whispered of safety. At least in a place where my world had been entirely turned upside down, I knew where I belonged.

  I shut the door and walked back up the hall.

  “There are boots in the front closet,” Fray said from her seat on one of the couches in the common room. “I’m sure they have your size.”

  “I’m sure they do,” I replied.

  “What does that mean?”

  I stopped a few feet from her. “Nothing, maybe.”

  Fray’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Now what?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  She motioned for me to sit on the chair she had placed across from her. “Explain.”

  I glanced at the knife in her hand. She let out a breath. “Seriously? Do we have to go over this again? You saved my team. I’m just repaying you by taking your stitches out. Nothing more.” When I didn’t move, she said, “If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t lure you in with some lame excuse. Besides,” she said with the barest hint of humor in her hard gaze, “Aren’t werewolves supposed to be hard to kill.”

  “Hard enough,” I replied levelly.

  “Then sit,” she ordered.

  It took all of my self-control to sit with my stitched side facing her. A shudder ran across my skin when the dhampir’s fingers brushed the first set of stitches.

  “Relax,” she said quietly. “You’re going to pull these through yourself if you’re not careful.”

  I sucked in a breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth, but it didn’t help to relieve the tension that filled my body.

  The soft snick of her knife as it severed the first knot was followed by a quick pull of the string from the wound. By the time she got through four of them, I was nauseous enough to feel whatever I had eaten last rise into my throat.

  I had no idea how much time had passed before she said, “You’re awfully pale. Don’t tell me I’ve found the only werewolf who can’t stand the sight of a little scratch like this.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “It’s not that.” My throat was tight enough to make the words forced.

  Her hands paused. “What is it then?”

  I glanced at her. Whatever she read in my face was enough to make her sit back.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  I looked away, but the damage was already done.

  “I-I can go get Kai,” she said, rising. “I didn’t realize I was that revolting.”

  I shook my head. “No. You don’t need to. It’s not you; well it is, it’s just—”

  She was already heading for the door. “Don’t bother. I understand.”

  “You don’t,” I tried to protest.

  When she looked back at me, the hurt on her face made a brick form in my stomach. “I was just trying to help,” she said. “I shouldn’t have.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Fray, wait. Please.”

  She paused at my pleading tone, but didn’t turn back.

  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and said, “Give me another chance.”

  She spun around and glared at me with the knife clenched tightly in her hand. “To what? To make me feel like some lower repulsive lifeform not worthy to remove your pathetically tied stitches?”

  “First of all,” I replied, feeling more like myself again. “I won’t tell Alia you just criticized her stitches. And second of all, you need to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Which is where?” Fray shot back. “Some underground Lair where you follow your vampire Master like some hivemind drone?”

  I knew she meant it sarcastically, but it was true in every sense of the word. “Yes,” I replied.

  There was enough heaviness to my voice that her brow furrowed slightly.

  “Exactly that,” I continued. “I grew up with his voice in my head thinking my only purpose in life was to serve him and lure victims to his doorstep. Everything thought or action I had for myself was met with punishment.” I waved a hand to indicate my scarred torso. “Where do you think all of these came from?”

  “You said you hated them.”

  “I hated myself because I didn’t have any control over my life.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “So y
ou got those on purpose?”

  I nodded, then looked away. I couldn’t take her searching gaze. I didn’t need her to know the deeper parts of me. All I wanted was to take away the hurt I had caused unintentionally. “The thought of anyone being in control of me in that way again is worse than any pain. At least in getting these, I had a choice, even if it was a sick, twisted way to look at it.” I forced myself to meet her eyes again. “I can’t help the way I react….”

  I lowered my gaze as she finished, “To someone with vampire blood.”

  I nodded.

  She was silent long enough that I thought she would leave. When she turned back to face me fully, I was afraid of what she would say. She had every right to judge me, and she was part vampire; why did I care at all about how she felt?

  “We’re a team, right?” She waited until I met her gaze fully to continue with, “We may not like it, either of us.”

  I snorted wolf-like at that and her eyes creased slightly at the corners in what may have been mistaken for a smile if such an expression dared to cross her face.

  “Then we’re going to have to put up with each other until one of us gets killed. And if you keep up with attacking demons the way you did tonight, that’ll be you,” she concluded.

  I gave her a small smile. “You’re probably right. In any case, you won’t have to put up with me long.”

  “Thank goodness,” she replied. She held up her knife. “Now let’s see about taking out the rest of those stitches.”

  I tried my best to ignore the touch of her cold fingers against my skin. When a tremor ran down my spine with enough force to make her pause, she merely shot me a look and then continued. I searched for something to take my mind off her deadly proximity.

  “You know we were set up.” The words came out before I could stop them. That seemed to be another human trait I was picking up, and one I didn’t appreciate.

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye as she snipped carefully at a particularly stubborn knot. “What are you talking about?”

  “The demon,” I replied. “That wasn’t an accident.”

  She continued as if she didn’t hear my words, but I caught the slight change in her breathing. She was listening. I pressed the advantage.

  “They knew I left. When I got back, the door was open when it shouldn’t have been, and no guards were in sight. Your scents led me directly to the demon. Nearly our entire team was there, along with enough lesser soldiers to make it seem like an accident.”

  “But you don’t believe it was,” she said when I fell silent.

  I shook my head, wondering if I had said too much.

  She finished the last several stitches before she stood and took a step back.

  “You’re smarter than they give you credit for.”

  Her pronouncement told me my guess had hit home.

  “But stupider in other ways,” she continued.

  I gritted my teeth and met her gaze with one of defiance. Her words shouldn’t have bothered me so much.

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of the next couch.

  “I looked you up,” she said in a flat tone.

  I watched her closely. “What does that mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “On the internet. The Division’s facial recognition tracker is available on operations.”

  Thoughts of my previous life and all I had done under orders from my Master swarmed my mind. I felt sick, disturbed, and frustrated all at the same time.

  “You have no right—” I began.

  She cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Easy. I’m not dredging up whatever nastiness your supreme vampire overlord made you do, so cool it.”

  Confused, I asked, “So what did you find?”

  Her expression was unreadable when she said, “You saved a little boy from being run over by a bus. You rescued a dog from being beaten to death. And did you actually take the time to escort a mouse across a road?”

  My insides churned as I stared at her. How on earth could she know so much? Nobody knew about the mouse, and only Alia’s family knew about the dog. I doubted the gang would have admitted to being beaten by a single person. Captain Roarsh had eyes on the werewolves; was Fray the one who had been spying on them?

  I pushed up from the chair. “I’ve heard enough.”

  She gave a quiet laugh. “What’s wrong, Zev? Afraid someone’s going to think you’re a softie?”

  I spun around. “Do you know what I’m afraid of?” I nearly shouted. Her eyes widened enough to tell me that I had startled her. I fought back the urge to snarl when I said, “I’m afraid this Division will run its course with me, and then when I’m useless, they’ll destroy the werewolves and the humans I’ve fought so hard to protect. If they’re watching me that closely, they already have all they need.” I gestured toward the row of computers along one wall. “You let the internet tell you who I am. Just wait until they get tired of you, too. We’ll be set up just like that demon was.”

  A spark showed in her gaze. “You feel bad for it?”

  My hands clenched into fists of their own accord. “The demons don’t belong in our world, but they shouldn’t be captives, either. The paranormal aren’t pawns to be played with. The Division can do what it likes with me, but whenever they’re through and my pack and the others are safe, I’m out of here.”

  She shook her head and walked toward the door.

  “How can you trust a captain who throws you to the mercy of a demon in order to strengthen your team’s closeness?” I shot at her.

  She glanced back at me as she reached for the doorknob. “You could have let us die,” she pointed out.

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again when I realized I didn’t have a retaliation for that.

  She gave a short nod as if my lack of answer confirmed her thoughts. “They may treat us like pawns, but they sure have your loyalty pinned down. I don’t know what drives you, but as soon as it’s gone, I know to stand clear because the animal will take over where the human has been.” She gave me a humorless smile that showed her fangs. “A beast with no master is dangerous indeed.”

  She opened the door and then closed it behind her. I listened to the sound of her footsteps fade away up the hall. An inexplicable rage built up in my chest to the point that I wanted to tear the couches apart, smash the computers and television, and destroy anything the dhampir had ever touched. Unable to contain it any longer, I let out a roar and drove my left hand into the closest wall. The sheetrock and the two-by-four beneath it broke with a crash.

  I pulled my hand back and surveyed the damage. As my heartbeat slowed, the anger slowly dissipated. I sucked in a breath and let it out through my nose. I brushed the powder of the destroyed sheetrock from my hand. Fray had won. The animal had gotten the best of me.

  I debated whether to put something in front of the hole to hide the truth from the others, but I ended up walking out of the room without doing it. Let them be warned. The dhampir was right, as much as I hated to admit it to myself. The wolf waited just below the surface. My whole purpose in life was to be dangerous, and she was right to not trust that. I didn’t trust it, either. But it was all I had.

  The smell of lasagna guided me up the hall. As much as I didn’t want to see anyone, the run and then the fight had left me famished. I also didn’t trust the warlock to leave me any food despite his proclaimed intentions.

  Chapter Six

  The mess hall turned out to be exactly like I expected. Rows up on rows of tables were occupied by personnel in a dozen different uniforms. The sound of utensils on metal trays, laughter, talking, and eating combined with the strong scents of lasagna, corn on the cob, fresh dinner rolls, milk, and apple juice to create a nearly overwhelming cacophony. Memories of the Lair came back full force, werewolves fighting over food that didn’t smell nearly as appetizing, tables being thrown aside for the brawls that broke out, the younger pups having their food taken by the older ones.

  “Ze
v, over here!”

  I blinked and the sight cleared to showed Virgo waving from a table near the middle. When the other members of the crew spotted me, they waved as well. Fray met my gaze with her cold eyes, then turned away to take another sip from the silver container she held.

  Paranormal blood. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I let out a breath through clenched teeth and walked through the rows of tables toward my crew.

  “Hey, he’s the one!”

  I glanced to the right to see a soldier point at me.

  “Yeah, that’s him,” another said.

  The first soldier stood up and held out a hand. “Thanks for saving us back there. That was quite the attack.”

  A part of me wanted to go into my theory that the Captain had released the demon, but the silence of the tables closest to us let me know I had far more attention than I wanted.

  I shook his hand. “You guys fought hard.”

  He gave my hand a vigorous shake before turning back to his table. “This guy’s the werewolf I told you about. Without him, we would have been demon meat.”

  “A werewolf,” a woman said, looking me up and down. “I thought you’d be shaggier.”

  The soldier next to her elbowed her. “Good looking and a beast inside? Recruitment has improved in our favor!”

  Both women laughed.

  The soldier at my side shook his head. “Don’t mind them.” He shot the women a look. “They’re just bored. The Vampire Division hasn’t been sent out in a while.”

  “Vampire Division,” I repeated in surprise with a glance in Fray’s direction.

  He caught my look. “They’ve all gone underground. The dhampirs are our best chance to find them, but nobody knows right now where the vamps could have gone. There’s rumor that at least two on this continent were killed recently, but no one can confirm it.”

  I watched him closely, wondering if he knew I was partially the reason for their deaths, but the man’s expression remained clear and his smile as genuine as I could tell. I chose to keep my secrets my own.