Wylde (Xi Force Book 3)

by S. C. Mitchell

  “You’ll let me know if something comes up?” Isolation was nice but only to a point. Wylde would have to try and keep better connected, especially now. He would worry about Dove.

  Joel stopped at the door and turned, pointing to the phone. “Let it charge up. If something happens, I’ll call you.”

  As the door closed behind Joel, a knot twisted in Wylde’s gut. He didn’t have many people he’d call friends. Joel was one. Dove was another. Was there anyone else?

  Maybe Kayla, Joel’s mate. She seemed to have no problem talking to him.

  But he really didn’t need friends. He didn’t need people. He had his pack and his solitude. A forest to hunt in and this cabin to sleep in. What more did a wolf desire?

  But he was part human, and that part felt anger knowing Dove was in danger.

  Isolation was no longer an option.

  ~ ~ ~

  Wylde showered, shaved, and dressed, checking his appearance in the mirror one last time before departing the cabin. Pretending to be human was a pain, but it did have its up sides. He could go down to the Xi Force Headquarters without attracting too much attention.

  He picked up his fully charged phone, pushing the button and checking the display. No one had called. He didn’t know what was going on. Well, it had only been a couple of hours since Joel’s visit but still, he worried.

  Every time he thought about Dove being someone’s prisoner, the knot inside twisted a little tighter. She was his best friend, more friend than he probably deserved, and if someone was hurting her . . .

  The knot became a raging fire.

  Even though Xi Force couldn’t officially do anything, that didn’t mean he couldn’t.

  He’d find Joel, find out what Joel knew, and proceed from there.

  He ran, forcing himself to stay on two feet, to stay as human as possible. He knew the differences, preferred the wolf, but that often proved too much for the others to handle, and he might need their help.

  Gray clouds rolled in the sky, loosing a sprinkle of fine snowflakes. He followed Joel’s snowmobile trail down the mountain to the Xi Force motor pool entrance. One of Pike’s Rangers let him through the doorway. He didn’t know the man’s name but recognized his scent as one of those who’d survived that blast. One of the originals. Not many had made it out alive.

  “Mr. Wylde.” The man nodded and smiled. Friendly.

  “I‘m looking for . . . Shade.” He needed to remember to use Joel’s superhero name, even though this man probably knew Shade was Joel Weisberg. The others in Xi Force had secret identities to protect. Wylde didn’t. He was just Wylde. No mask, no costume.

  Not the superhero he thought he’d become. Flight would be nice, perhaps some claws like wolverine.

  Instead he’d gotten wolf DNA spliced into his, enhancing his senses by a parent who didn’t care that it hurt. Later, after Ghaim stole Kayla’s Mutalon formula and injected it into his system, he’d gotten a super healing factor. It should have killed him. Instead, he now healed at an accelerated rate, and even wounds that would prove fatal in others couldn’t kill him. Not the worst powers, but not Superman either.

  The moment he entered Xi Force headquarters, he knew he was out of luck. Joel’s scent in the air of the headquarters was hours old. He’d probably been given a mission by Aaron Braddock, the Xi Force commander.

  The other Xi Force members were often assigned tasks. Wylde chose to be left alone unless he was absolutely needed.

  Aaron didn’t really like or trust Wylde. The feeling was mutual.

  Who else could he ask?

  The list of people he felt he could approach was limited. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know Z-Bot, El Brujo, or his sister. And Jason Pike was dead.

  Jason, the leader of Pike’s Rangers, had been an approachable man, a good man, and Wylde had counted him among his few friends.

  The loss still hurt.

  He didn’t know much about this Paul Tompkins that was now leading the commando force. Not enough to trust the man.

  Shit, he was a stranger on his own team.

  Maybe Kayla. His last teammate, also known as Phaze, had seemed friendly enough to approach. She smelled honest. Though she was Joel’s mate, she was also her own woman, and she seemed to have developed a close relationship with Dove over the past weeks.

  Would she help him? The only way to find out was to ask.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Sure’n there’s something we can do. Dove’s our friend.” Maggie O’Donnell’s lilting Irish accent carried out into the hallway as Wylde crept toward the Xi Force Headquarters’ third-floor break room.

  Maggie was the pilot of the Xi Force’s transport plane, the Xi-1. Red haired, green eyed, she exuded an air of confidence and a subtle, clean scent that told Wylde nothing about her. Good natured yet fiery at times, she seemed approachable. But Wylde had had no interactions with her.

  Another stranger on his team.

  No, he was the stranger. He knew he was strange to them. His beliefs. His delusion they called it. But this was the course the author set him on. He had no choice but to pursue it.

  It’s still better than being dead on the page. Then again, would he even know? If his time came, and the author ended him, would he just cease to exist? This couldn’t be his story, could it? He was just an expendable extra, playing a part to further the plot.

  He sighed. He’d best stop thinking about it and do his part.

  He’d followed Kayla’s scent here from her laboratory. Easy enough to track. The woman used a unique, identifying floral scent, overlaid lately by intense pheromone activity. She and Joel were deeply attracted to each other, as any wolf in the vicinity would know almost instantly. For humans, mating didn’t have a season.

  He paused outside the doorway to listen.

  Mary Cullen huffed. “I called her mother, and she said the police are frustrated. They haven’t a clue who that guy is or what he wants. They’re waiting for some contact or ransom demand. Dove told me that that creepy lab assistant her father hired had been coming on to her, but she’d rebuffed all his advances.”

  Kayla’s floral-laced essence wafted out the doorway. She must have been pacing as she spoke. “God, I hope she’s okay. Joel hasn’t been able to find out anything through his contacts and Aaron is stonewalling, not letting us get involved until the police officially ask for our help. And the official channels are so freaking slow. We need to do something now, even if it’s behind Aaron’s back.” Her sincerity was just what Wylde wanted to hear.

  Mary’s voice took on a grumbling tone. “The police say the fact that they can’t positively identify this creep might just be a computer glitch in their system. Kirk ran it through our system and got the same result. Something is really rotten there, and the police are dragging their feet. They’re either being lazy or something is really wrong inside the MPD.”

  Wylde is here. Jimmy’s yip brought the conversation to a halt. The wolf cub leapt to the floor. His claws clicking on the tiles as he padded toward the doorway.

  Betrayed by one of his own.

  Well, not really one of his own anymore. Jimmy, his pack’s runt, had gone lone wolf after he’d somehow become merged with Mary Cullen. They’d formed some kind of bond and Jimmy had changed, grown bolder.

  El Brujo had conjectured some kind of magic was involved. Not surprising considering they’d been fighting a demon from another dimension.

  While Mary couldn’t understand the other wolves in his pack, she could hear and understand Jimmy clearly. “He is, is he? Get in here John and stop skulking.”

  Wylde sighed. “I was not skulking.” Well, maybe he had been.

  Conviction filled Jimmy’s tone. I think they need you. The pup was getting smarter every day . . . and bigger.

  Wylde
knelt to sniff and allow Jimmy to sniff him. The pup was in good health, but much cleaner than a wolf should be. Once the pack’s runt, Jimmy was now easily twice the size of either Bruce or Clark. The wolf’s growth since the incident that bonded him to Mary was far from normal.

  Then again, what the hell was normal anymore?

  Wylde looked up, taking in the three women. The women that had been talking about helping find Dove. “Is this a private conspiracy, or can anyone join?”

  Chapter 4

  Wylde accompanied Mary Cullen and Jimmy to the Xi Force parking ramp. A line of black SUVs always stood fueled and at the ready for use by Xi force members and support staff. Mary stopped by the booth and checked one out.

  After retrieving a set of keys, she motioned Wylde around to the passenger’s side of their assigned vehicle. “When Dove told her father about Jimmy, Dr. Locklear expressed an interest in examining him. So we already have a good excuse to stop by.”

  The wolf pup wagged his tail in anticipation, standing at Mary’s side as she pressed the button on the remote to unlock the vehicle’s doors. Ride. We’re going for a ride.

  Wylde smiled. “Jimmy is quite a unique little guy. Well, not so little anymore. I’m sure Dr. Locklear will find him fascinating.” At one time in his childhood, the Locklears had been like family. He hadn’t seen them in years.

  Mary loaded Jimmy into the back seat of the SUV. “I’m hoping between the two of you, you can pick up some clues about Dove’s disappearance. According to Dove’s mother, the police are stumped.”

  She had more faith in Wylde than he had in himself. Then again, perhaps that was the point of this whole wolf-powers thing the author had foisted onto him. In any case, if there was a clue to be found, he was determined to find it.

  He took the passenger’s seat as Mary slid behind the steering wheel. “We have to be careful though. The police have specifically stated they don’t want Xi Force involved in their investigation.”

  Jimmy nosed his way between the seats. Where are we going?

  Mary turned and scratched him behind the ears, catching the pup’s gaze. “To see Dove’s father and mother. You’ll like them. Now stay put.”

  The pup spun around, looking for a comfortable position on the back seat. Window? Window would be nice.

  Mary hit the button to roll down the back passenger-side window about two inches. “Just a little. It’s cold outside, you know, scamp.”

  Good smells.

  They took the highway south toward Megopolis. Rural homes and farm fields slowly turned into suburban areas. Skyscrapers poked above the horizon.

  The city was much like the forest, in its own way, filled with predators and prey. Lofty buildings, like the tall trees of the forest, masked most of the population. Some people nested in the sky, others on the ground. They functioned, suffered, and died.

  Wylde wrinkled his nose as the towering structures passed by on both sides. Had he been driving, he’d have taken the extra time to drive around the city, because unlike the forest, it reeked of humanity here. Gas fumes, garbage, people.

  Then again, he would never have been driving. He’d never had the chance to learn how to maneuver one of these machines and didn’t have the least interest in learning when he was younger. The wolf in him still shied away from the sounds, smells, and raw power of the vehicles. Had time not been so short, he would have run to Dove’s parents’ house, sticking to the forest and rural farmlands that surrounded Megopolis.

  The SUV glided through the city’s mid-morning traffic, taking the exit out to the southern suburbs. Single family homes with leafless trees and snow-covered lawns replaced skyscrapers and slushy sidewalks. Wylde cracked his window open and took a deep breath. Fresher scents rode the breeze. The resiny tang of evergreens, dog spore, and damp, rotting vegetation.

  Much better.

  Wylde observed Mary’s driving technique, clamping down on the frightened wolf part of his brain to embrace his human side. Perhaps this was something he needed to learn. It wasn’t anything he’d imagined before, but his adventures now had him ranging much further from his pack’s territory than ever. A vehicle would be so much faster than running.

  Turning onto a rural roadway, Wylde began to pick out familiar landmarks from his youth. The brick silo had lost its rounded top. That white painted farm house with the picketed fence was now boarded up with a For Sale sign on the front lawn. The once bright red barn was paint-flecked and gray, listing to the side on crumbling foundations, as if trying to decide whether to fall over. The covered wooden bridge over the river had been replaced by an open one made of concrete.

  The Locklear home and lab was nestled against a forested area with farms all around.

  Mary parked in the driveway. “You ready?”

  A police vehicle sat empty at the curb in front of the home. Wylde had hoped to find the Locklears alone. “We need to be careful not to let the authorities misconstrue our visit as interference in their investigation.”

  She nodded. “Despite the fact that that’s exactly why we’re here.”

  It was nice to have an accomplice. “No, we’re here to let Dr. Locklear look at Jimmy.”

  So much felt off with this situation they’d decided to keep as low a profile as possible.

  Mary had already called ahead and arranged the meeting before Wylde had joined the conspiracy. She’d planned to let Jimmy nose around the lab for anything he could find. When Wylde had offered his assistance, Mary, Kayla, and Maggie had jumped at the opportunity.

  “Two noses are better than one,” Kayla had said.

  But the Locklears didn’t know Wylde was coming. What would their response be?

  The front lawn was well marked by the local canines. Yellow patches of snow, heaviest around the mailbox, sent an interesting array of aromas wafting his way. He fought the urge to take a closer sniff.

  Birds and squirrels chattered in the trees that surrounded the tan brick house. The sun broke through the clouds enough to send multicolored rays dancing among the icicles that hung from the edge of the roof. A horse’s whinny carried over the roof from the backyard.

  The Locklear family home rested in a wooded thicket where he and Dove had played as children, when they’d been allowed outdoors. A single-story ranch, with a large pole building attached to the back that served as her father’s laboratory. Fenced-in pens behind the structure, allowed Dr. Locklear to exercise his test subjects, who usually grew to love the man before he let them go free.

  There wasn’t a gentler, more caring person on the planet than David Locklear. At least not one that Wylde had ever met. When he answered the door, deep pain was evident in the man’s dark-rimmed eyes. “Yes? Can I help you?”

  It had been fifteen years. Dr. Locklear had aged. More stooped and careworn than Wylde remembered. Whether the product of the intervening years, or the circumstances of the past days, it was hard to tell.

  “Dr. Locklear, you may not remember me, but—”

  “John.” Dawn Locklear pushed past her husband and wrapped her arms around Wylde.

  Dr. Locklear’s eyes widened. “Johnny Wylde?”

  Mrs. Locklear held him at arm’s length. “Oh, look how handsome you grew up. You look just like your fa—”

  Her cheeks reddened as Dr. Locklear cleared his throat and rushed to rescue his wife from her fumble. “Dove emailed us that she’d reconnected with you recently. Come in. Come in. Tell us what you’ve been up to.”

  Bless the woman. It would have been the elephant in the room had she not slipped and almost mentioned the bastard.

  He captured Mrs. Locklear’s gaze. “You are not the first to tell me I look like my father. Let me assure you that other than that, I am nothing like him.”

  She waved Wylde into the house. “Oh, that man. He had us all so bamb
oozled. If only we’d known.”

  “I should have said something. I know that now.” But as a boy he’d lived in fear that his father would take him away from this.

  “Say one word about what we do at night, and you will never see the Locklears again.” In the end, he’d lost them anyway.

  Jimmy trotted up with Mary in tow, after relieving himself and checking the local aromas. All dogs. No wolves.

  Mrs. Locklear gave Mary a hug, proclaiming loudly, “I’m so glad you came.” Then adding under her breath. “They’re doing nothing.”

  Wylde heard plainly what the police officers in the next room didn’t. Concern washed her tone. This had been hard on Dove’s mother.

  Inside the home, little had changed. A new piece of furniture here and there, pictures on the walls, many of Dove as she’d grown. From the gangly girl with braces tinseling her mouth to beautiful woman with such a winning smile, haunting dark eyes, and lush curves.

  He’d barely recognized her when they’d first met up again, except her scent, her essence, hadn’t changed. One of the first enhancements his father had worked on was the olfactory. Identifying those genes in wolves that gave them their incredible sense of smell and splicing them into his DNA. Wylde had locked Dove’s fragrance into his memory.

  It had been the scent memories that got him through the darkest days of his captivity, and through the pain of his father’s experiments.

  And it was the scents now that brought back all the best memories of his childhood. The smell of freshly-baked, yeasty bread hung heavily in the air, warm and comforting. Mrs. Locklear’s perfume, a fragrance she evidently hadn’t changed in fifteen years, added even more familiar tones.

  Soap, sweat, and odd aromas brought Wylde’s attention to three strangers standing in the dining room giving him the once over.