Huntress Born (Wolf Legacy Book 1)

by Aimee Easterling

  “It looks like you’d rather be outside,” I said aloud, forgetting for a moment that my companion wasn’t a shifter and thus wouldn’t have heard me approach. Sure enough, Sebastien’s entire body jolted at the sound of my voice, his head swiveling toward me like that of a startled deer assessing its surroundings. But then a broad smile lit the professor’s face as he caught sight of me hovering in the entranceway.

  “Ember,” he greeted me. “Come on in.”

  Chapter 20

  I’d meant to use the seconds before being noticed to build some sort of internal wall against Sebastien’s overwhelming charm. But, instead, the warmth in my companion’s voice was as effective as any alpha compulsion. Muscles moved without conscious volition, and before I knew it I’d skittered through the doorway and right up into his personal space.

  Only then did my companion realize that I had no place to sit. Which meant I missed out on the handshake I’d been looking forward to all day, although I was graced with an excellent view of Sebastien’s well-formed backside as he turned to scoop a stack of well-thumbed periodicals out of the visitor’s chair.

  “I’m afraid I’ve spread my research out over every available surface,” the professor mumbled as he worked. “I don’t get many drop-bys in the summertime...”

  Then his voice trailed off as his cheeks turned ever so faintly red. In response, I nearly laughed aloud, realizing the human I’d thought unflappable was embarrassed to be caught with his office in disarray.

  “Please don’t clean on my account,” I told him. Reaching out without thinking, I placed two fingertips on Sebastien’s wrist in a werewolf gesture of consolation....then lost track of what I’d meant to say as the momentary contact pushed all further conversation out of my mind.

  Because Sebastien’s blood pulsed beneath the pads of my fingers, his heart beating just a little faster than it ought to have done. His skin was warm, his scent mild compared to that of a werewolf but strangely enticing nonetheless. And when I gazed into the professor’s eyes, I noticed his pupils were dilating...just like my own despite the more-than-adequate light.

  By the time my hand slipped away from my companion’s skin, I was barely verbal. So I dropped down into the newly emptied chair rather than opening my mouth. No need to let potentially embarrassing words spew forth while my equilibrium was so thoroughly compromised.

  “Did you come for the...” Sebastien began, then cleared his throat before continuing. “...for the candy bar?”

  “I...yes, of course.”

  I hadn’t, actually. I’d forgotten all about my companion’s request that I take part in his study, hadn’t given so much as a passing thought to the promised sugar rush and cash prize in exchange for relinquishing half an hour of my time. Instead, I’d been drawn to this plant-filled study by an instinct too powerful to resist...and definitely far too complicated to explain to a human I’d barely met.

  Still, I’d cling to any excuse that allowed me to spend extra time in Sebastien’s presence. So I didn’t argue when my companion launched into what sounded like a well-rehearsed spiel, and I nodded sagely when he told me the study had to be carried out in pairs.

  “Just give me a sec to text the participant at the top of the waiting list,” the professor said absently, matching actions to words. Then, piercing me yet again with those un-look-away-able eyes, he stilled my lungs with another breathtaking smile. “We’re in luck. Gracie says she can be here in just a few minutes.”

  After that, the professor leaned back in his chair while I perched awkwardly on the edge of my own seat. A mere four feet of empty space separated us, but the distance felt more like a yawning abyss rather than the width of a rather book-and-plant-crowded study.

  For thirty excruciatingly long seconds, in fact, we each made an earnest effort to be polite and not to stare. Then we both opened our mouths to speak at once.

  “Did you ever...?” he asked just as I started with “Why did you...?”

  We both paused, mouths snapping shut in tandem. Then Sebastien’s warm brown eyes crinkled with mirth as he placed a finger over his own lips, dropped his chin into his chest, and waited for me to finish my thought.

  “Why did you choose to go into psychology?” I said into the resulting silence. Then I immediately wanted to kick myself as I realized the question was far too nosy for two humans who had only recently met.

  But rather than taking offense, my companion merely shrugged. “For the same reason you bake, I imagine,” he answered. And I found myself scooting backwards in my seat, surprised to have been so thoroughly seen by a human who hadn’t visited my shop more than a single time.

  Because Sebastien was right. I baked to understand. I baked to assist. I baked to be needed.

  I opened my mouth to question a human who sounded more like a werewolf than many shifters I knew. But a tap on the door burst the bubble of privacy that surrounded us, and I looked up to find one of my own customers leaning into the doorway from the otherwise empty hall.

  “GRACIE, THANKS FOR joining us,” Sebastien greeted her, rising so quickly that I was left wondering whether our moment of shared understanding had existed entirely within my own head. The professor was all business as he ushered us back out into the hall, but his physical and emotional distance didn’t prevent the student from thrusting out her chest and simpering prettily as she followed his lead.

  She’s a pup and he’s an alpha, I reminded myself, trying to tamp down the wave of lupine jealousy that threatened to overwhelm my human body. I couldn’t blame the girl for trying to attract our companion’s attention, never mind that both age and profession placed Sebastien firmly out of her league. Still, I found myself sidling around so that I, rather than Gracie, was standing at Sebastien’s elbow when he stopped at last inside the sparsely furnished lab.

  And who’s the lovesick pup now?

  Luckily, the professor appeared as oblivious to our competitive maneuvering as he had been to the wares Gracie put so flagrantly on display. Instead of remarking on either, he launched into a long-winded explanation of the apparatus before us, which had apparently been designed with dozens of safeguards in mind.

  “As I told Gracie when she first signed up,” the professor concluded, strapping electrodes onto various portions of the girl’s anatomy as he spoke, “our lab is studying pain tolerances this summer. The participant who sits in this chair—that would be Gracie—will be subjected to increasing voltages of electrical shock....”

  And, abruptly, the fizz of attraction winked out as I realized what sort of study this really was. Sebastien’s breezy manner when introducing the chair had suggested we were in for something simple and harmless, maybe virtual-reality puzzles or a team-building exercise. Instead, my brain went entirely blank as I tried to come up with a different explanation for what I’d recently heard.

  Was this man—who I’d pegged as gentle and kind—really planning to harm a pup barely old enough to leave her parents? To send electrical currents pulsing through Gracie’s veins...for what purpose? To end up with a readout that would assist in the creation of yet more boring articles that only a few other scientists might ever read?

  “I’m not sure...” I interjected, backing toward the door. But I was sure. I was sure I’d made a tremendous mistake, both in offering to take part in this study and in thinking the attraction I felt for Sebastien was worth the risk to both of our necks.

  “Please don’t go,” the human countered, stepping so deeply into my personal space that his body heat brushed against my bare skin. And despite the horror that churned my stomach and tensed my muscles...I still found myself leaning closer to the professor rather than away.

  “It’s entirely safe,” Sebastien continued. “I promise. And Gracie will be well compensated. She receives more than a candy bar for being the subject in the chair. You want to take part, don’t you, Gracie?”

  The professor’s dark eyes bored into mine even as the student chirruped from behind his back. “Absolu
tely, professor. It’s the highlight of my day.”

  She really did seem to mean it too, so I exhaled a long breath and turned away from Sebastien with an effort. “You want to do this?” I asked the younger female, brow wrinkling as I tried to understand the nonsensical undercurrents filling the lab. There was more going on here than a puppy-dog crush, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was missing.

  “Absolutely,” the teenager answered. “’Cause you’re here to make sure it’s all safe and kosher. Tell her that part, professor.”

  And Sebastien immediately launched into the second half of his prepared explanation. I was the spotter, he explained, present to ensure Gracie’s pain threshold was never exceeded. Before every pulse of electricity, the professor would ask his subject if she wanted to continue, but I was the one ultimately responsible for determining whether the electrifying button got pushed.

  “So if I say no, you pull the plug?” I asked, making sure I understood. Part of me wanted to track down a member of the administration right away, to argue my case until this inhumane experiment was shut down both immediately and permanently. But Gracie peered up at me with such pleading in her youthful eyes, and Sebastien’s further clarification suggested the study was no worse than my cousins’ customary test of bravery—prodding at electrified fence wires back home until the current nipped at their skin. Surely this scientifically formulated shock wouldn’t hurt more than the time I’d been conned into licking that fence with my unprotected tongue....

  “It would be a big favor to me if you’d help out,” Gracie interjected, looking even more childlike as she pouted plump lips and stared at me with widened eyes.

  And, at last, I caved. Utilizing my werewolf senses, I’d be able to assess the girl’s pain threshold far more effectively than a one-body could have done. Perhaps taking part in this experiment wasn’t the same as assisting in torture.

  Perhaps.

  The experiment moved quickly after that. Sebastien stood in front of Gracie, his finger hovering atop a big red button, while I was placed in a chair off to one side. And the girl really didn’t seem to mind the initial shocks—which Sebastien explained were less painful than even a pinprick, intended to calibrate the sensors and ensure everything was advancing according to plan.

  But then the professor turned up the dial on his control panel and Gracie began biting her lip in anticipation. I winced, expecting fear pheromones to fill the air. To my surprise, though, Gracie was braver than I’d given her credit for. The girl jumped when Sebastien pressed the big red button the first time, but the air between us remained scentless and clear.

  “Turn it up, professor,” the girl said while I was busy flaring nostrils and sucking in scents. “I really need that scholarship.”

  And, in a blaze of tearing regret, I realized what motivated the child. Gracie possessed no pack mates ready and willing to fund her higher education, boasted no relatives who would fall all over themselves to ensure her every need was met. Instead, the poor human was strapped down in an electric chair, paying her way through college by dint of her own physical pain.

  Abruptly, I’d had enough. There were other options, I just knew it. If nothing else, I’d ask Wolfie to create a scholarship just for this girl—the joy of cobbling together his own amusing acronym would more than make up for the loss of cash from our community coffers. Regardless of the eventual methodology, I was confident my pack leader would ensure this pup wasn’t forced to shock herself through college ever again.

  Placing a supportive hand on Gracie’s wrist, I glared at the professor. “That’s enough.”

  “But Gracie said to turn it up,” Sebastien answered, fingers twisting the dial higher even as his mouth voiced the words. And for a moment, I froze, hardly believing that even one-body society would be so cruel as to think this was acceptable behavior.

  While I hesitated, the professor’s finger reached toward the red button for the sixth time that day. And I should have lunged forward to stop him. Should have responded like any ordinary human being and used my physical body to halt the madness.

  But the shocks, in the past, had been instantaneous and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to come between Sebastien’s finger and the instigating button before current began to flow. So rather than considering the fact that most humans weren’t even sensitive enough to notice a werewolf’s command, I allowed an alpha compulsion to roll off my lips.

  “Stop,” I ordered. Then I watched as unexpected delight filled Sebastien’s mahogany eyes.

  Chapter 21

  At the same moment, Gracie began to laugh. The student’s merriment was so honest and joyful that it would have been contagious...if my wolf hadn’t currently been attempting to crawl out of my skin and rip out Sebastien’s throat, that is. As it was, though, I needed several seconds to even make sense of my companion’s subsequent words.

  “You’re such a lightweight,” the girl told me, pulling electrodes off her skin as she hopped off the chair. “Most people make it up to ten ‘shocks’ before they give in.” Air quotes completed, Gracie turned to drag a box of candy off the shelf behind her back, then rummaged inside to come up with four options. “Here. Which one do you want?”

  I gazed at the girl in befuddlement. I was a lightweight...and now it was time for candy?

  “It’s just pretend,” the pup explained, shaking the crinkly-coated chocolate bars to catch my attention. “No electricity, no pain. I’m the professor’s lab assistant this summer. Hard job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

  Silently, I turned to cock my head at Sebastien, struggling to reassess the conversation that had gone before. A moment ago, I’d thought Gracie was a poor waif down on her luck and the professor was a monster using the girl’s desperation for the sake of his own experiments. And now...now I wasn’t even sure what to think.

  I expected glib explanations to roll forth from the professor’s lips, but Sebastien appeared nearly as tongue-tied as I was. The human eyed me speculatively, one index finger pressed against his mouth as if he wanted to speak and was struggling to keep unintended words inside. And as I took in his posture, a shiver ran up my spine.

  I had a feeling I’d just made a terrible mistake.

  Luckily, Gracie was talkative enough for all three of us. “You’ve probably never taken a psychology course, have you?” she asked. And when I shook my head mutely, the girl launched into a long-winded explanation that my harried brain finally managed to condense into a mostly understandable core.

  The experiment—and it was an experiment, that much was now clear—had nothing to do with pain tolerances. Instead, Sebastien was gauging my reaction to the situation, determining how far I was willing to go when both other participants were supposedly on board with creating supposed agony in the pup.

  “This project is funded by DARPA, isn’t it?” I said at last, drawing conclusions that were perhaps too far-reaching and perhaps a little paranoid...but that felt entirely right at the time.

  Because, despite the pretty words Gracie had used to class up her explanation, this didn’t seem like the sort of experimentation a civilian organization would care to have their name attached to. And, of the funding organizations listed on various posters running down the hall, DARPA was the clear choice for creation of such an inhumane scheme.

  “Yes,” Sebastien admitted, speaking carefully as if afraid to set me off...as well he might be since my teeth were bared and I was barely holding back a menacing growl. “It’s true that DARPA provided some of the baseline funding. But they support thousands of projects around the globe, and this experiment was and is entirely under my control. Look, I’m sorry we lied to you, but what you took part in today is just a slight twist on the classic analysis of reactions to authority figures. The Milgram experiment....”

  Werewolf-like, the male reached out to place one soothing palm atop my forearm as he spoke, and I immediately lost track of all words. Because contact with Sebastien felt like heaven. Like being wrapped u
p in my family’s protective embrace...while diving out of an airplane with only one small parachute strapped to my back. I could almost sense wind whipping against my cheeks, could nearly hear the whisper of a pack mate begging me to pull the ripcord and slow my plummeting descent.

  But my usually mild-mannered wolf fought against any attempt to step away from the human’s side, instead keeping us stuck in heart-pounding free fall. Mine, the beast growled silently, freezing our joint muscles into place.

  She and I were usually so closely attuned that I didn’t differentiate between our wishes. Sometimes we were wolf and sometimes we were human, but the distinction had more to do with which set of muscles would best achieve our goals rather than it did with any battle of ego or will.

  Now, though, we each struggled to take control, fighting for command of a body we usually shared equally. I clenched my teeth and strained against her efforts...and I might just have lost had the ringing of my phone not provided a wolf-friendly excuse for us both to step aside.

  Pack is calling, I reminded her. Pack, the one thing that every wolf understood deep within her bones. And, reluctantly, my own inner beast accepted my retreat from Sebastien’s touch, allowing me to dig into my pocket for the chiming telephone before turning away to break all contact with the confusing college professor standing by our side.

  Then I forgot Sebastien’s magnetic attraction as nearly incoherent apologizes filled my ear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  And just like that, I dropped back down to the hard pavement of reality with a nearly audible thud.

  AT FIRST, THE VOICE on the other end of the line was so garbled and confused that I couldn’t even figure out who it was. Only after I pulled the device away from my ear and glanced at the screen did I realize this was Lissa, one of the shifters left in charge of guarding my sister’s house.