“Mr. Animus!” Jane’s voice echoed down the hallway.
Uriel thanked the gods.
“What is it, woman?” Animus asked impatiently.
“The other one, he’s waking from his coma. What should I do?”
“Can you maintain his coma without damaging the fetus?”
“Oh.” Jane wrung her fat hands and shifted from one foot to the other. “Oh, I don’t know sir, it’s a bit of a gamble, isn’t it?”
Fetus? Uriel thought with a new kind of terror.
“Do what you can,” Animus said. “Do nothing until you’re certain of the dosage and the effects on the fetus.”
“Yes, sir,” Jane said.
She shot Uriel a look of pity and bustled away down the hall.
“Now then, where were we?” Animus asked thoughtfully. “Ah yes, your discipline problem.”
He moved the iron back into the flame, spinning it as it heated. Uriel felt the effects of the paralysis drug begin to wear off, but he deliberately kept himself frozen. Deceit seemed the best course of action at the moment, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. As soon as Animus touched his skin with the blazing hot metal, his body would respond as it wished.
Boots thundered down the corridor, interrupting his thoughts.
“Animus! Mr. Animus!”
“Will these infernal interruptions never cease?” Animus huffed. “Yes, boy, what the devil is it?”
“Feds,” the goon gasped. “The cave-in got their attention. They’re on their way to inspect the facility right now!”
“What?!” Animus bellowed. “Do you realize that at this moment, I have three werewolves and a pregnant male in my possession?”
“Yes, sir,” the man answered. “That’s why I ran to tell you. They’re twenty minutes away. What do you want us to do?”
Animus paced, waving the hot iron and muttering. “Take them all to the locker in the west hall,” he said finally. “Paralyze the two in the cells, start with them. Inform Jane that she must prepare the pregnant one for confinement. Then come back for this beast.”
“Sir... that locker is only...”
“I know how big it is!” Animus snapped. “It’s the only place they won’t look. Go! Hurry!”
The man bolted down the hallway, snapping orders over the radio. Animus switched off the flame and hung the iron back on the wall. He paced for a moment longer, then turned and glared at Uriel.
“You must be thinking you can use this to escape,” he accused.
Uriel admitted to himself that Animus was correct. That was exactly what he was thinking.
“Well let me tell you something, half-breed. If the Federal government discovers your existence, your stay here will look like a vacation in comparison to what they will do to you. Not to mention your pack. They have resources you can only dream of. Your kind will be eradicated from the face of the earth. For your own sake, I suggest you keep quiet and do as you’re told.”
He spun on his heel and left the room. He left the door open, and Uriel heard him snapping orders over his own radio as the compound burst into life. Goons, nurses, keepers, and scientists raced through the hallways, each intent on their own part of the massive cover-up operation. Uriel counted twenty-six distinct individuals, and calculated how many each of the three wolves would need to disable in order to get away. Under normal circumstances, nine humans each wouldn’t be a problem; but these humans were armed with drugs and silver, and he couldn’t know for sure what state the other two were in.
Besides, Animus was absolutely right. If the Feds were reminded of the existence of werewolves, it would be all over. Technology had advanced significantly since the last round of battles, and the humans had an advantage now that they had never had before. Uriel was going to have to plan carefully if he had any hope of taking advantage of this new development.
They can shift, he thought. They should be able to shift. And Forest isn’t showing yet, they wouldn’t assume he was pregnant if they saw him. But the paralysis, and the locker...
His frustrated musings were interrupted by four goons and a gurney. He kept his body frozen as they released him from his restraints and laid him on the gurney. He knew that his fellows were already inside the locker, whatever that was; he was last in line. Four goons. Four werewolves. Suddenly he knew what to do.
“Where the hell is it?” one of them asked after several minutes of running top-speed through the halls.
“Left, left, and a right, then straight for a hundred yards,” another replied.
“Why the hell did he put it way over here?”
“Uh, I don’t know, maybe to make it hard to get to? Dingus.”
The sounds of activity faded away around them until all that was left were the goons. The overhead lights dimmed to emergency lights only here in the west hall. Nothing happened here, Uriel could smell it. It was virtually unused, and had been for ages. Left, left, right, then a hundred yards. They stopped short.
“Open it,” one of them said.
“You open it,” another replied. “Do you know what’s in there?”
“Oh my God, you infant, they’re paralyzed. Open the damn door.”
The first goon grumbled as he did what he was told. As soon as Uriel heard the sound of steel crashing onto steel, he leapt into action. They hadn’t bothered to restrain him; why would they? He’d been paralyzed, or so they thought. He watched realization and horror spread across their faces as he silently and efficiently bashed their heads together two by two faster than they could react. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious or dead, Uriel didn’t care. He peeked into the locker.
“Are you fully paralyzed?” he asked the two wolves staring back up at him.
They were lying in a shallow box, head to heels like sardines. Forest was pressed against the wall beside him. He couldn’t imagine how the goons had planned on squeezing him in there.
“Co-ing ouh uh ih,” one of the wolves grunted.
“Perfect. Concentrate on moving, I’ll get you out.”
He turned his attention to the four goons. They all appeared to be breathing, unfortunately. He stripped them naked and set their clothes and guns aside. They carried zip ties with them, and he used them to bind their wrists and ankles, just in case they woke before he’d finished his part. He reached through the opening in the floor and yanked the werewolf out from the center. He was lodged firmly between the other wolf and Forest, and it took all of Uriel’s strength to pull him from the hole.
“Lovely accommodations,” Uriel muttered sarcastically. He shook the werewolf, forcing his body to move in spite of the paralysis. He didn’t know if it would help or not, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. The wolf began to blink and move his mouth.
“Excellent. Human form, quick as you can,” Uriel told him, propping him against the wall.
He repeated the process with the other wolf in the hold, then scooped Forest’s sleeping form up into his arms. He hoped that Jane hadn’t given him anything to keep him in the coma, but Forest seemed to be out cold.
“Wake up, Forest,” he demanded. “It’s time to go.”
Forest’s eyes rolled back and forth under their closed lids, making his lashes flutter prettily against his cheeks, but he didn’t wake up. Uriel wasted no more time trying. He lay Forest flat on the cold steel floor, apologizing under his breath when goosebumps pricked up all over his lover’s body. He stripped him of the hospital gown and quickly dressed him in one of the guard’s uniforms. He glanced up at the other wolves. They had advanced to flexing their fingers and opening and closing their jaws.
“Keep it up,” he encouraged them. “We’ve got less than five minutes before this place is crawling with Feds.”
Their eyes went wide and he could see that they understood the implications thoroughly. He nodded sharply and turned back toward the goons. He slid them into the locker one by one, head to heels as the werewolves had been arranged. Satisfied that they wouldn’t sound the alarm any time soon, he clos
ed the trapdoor. Time was up. Far in the distance, he heard a buzz of fresh voices clashing against the petrified silence of the “researchers” in the facility. If they were going to get away with this, they had to move now.
He shifted into human form and dressed himself. The clothes were a little tight, but he’d manage. “Shift, dammit!” he hissed at his fellow werewolves.
They began to shift, excruciatingly slowly. They were still mostly werewolf when Uriel caught the sound of half a dozen high-end shoes marching in their direction. There’s no time for this, he thought. He yanked the two wolves off of the floor and sat them on the gurney, shoving the pile of clothes into their arms. He threw Forest over his shoulders, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on his belly. With his burdens as securely in place as they could be, he quickly and quietly wheeled the gurney deeper into the abandoned west hall. A door was open at the very end, and he made a beeline for it. He could hear the Feds moving closer, and he picked up speed, favoring it over silence.
The werewolves nearly tumbled off the gurney as he careened into the open doorway. They were in a storage room. Perfect. He dragged them off of the gurney one by one and shoved them down behind boxes, hissing at them to finish morphing and get dressed. Forest was still unconscious, and Uriel lay him gently on the gurney. The Feds were still coming, faster now, most likely alerted by the noise of the gurney crashing into the storeroom. Uriel cursed himself for his impatience. He tried to shut the door, but it was broken and wedged behind piles of boxes. His mind raced.
“Hey! You!” someone shouted behind him.
He pasted a devil-may-care sneer on his face and turned to greet the fellow.
“Help you?” he asked, sounding as bored as he could.
“What are you doing back here?” the Fed demanded.
Uriel shot a lazy look over his shoulder, and saw that the two wolves were in full human form and frantically trying to put their clothes on.
“Breaking up a party,” Uriel grinned, cocking his thumb over his shoulder.
The Fed glanced to where he indicated then sneered with disgust. “Is this sort of... activity commonplace in this facility?” he asked.
“Not supposed to be,” Uriel shrugged. “These two are getting canned ‘cause they just won’t quit.”
The Fed nodded sharply. “My men will need to examine and catalog everything in that store room. You have ten minutes to clear out.”
“Yes, sir,” Uriel sighed, slouching against the wall.
The Fed shot him a steely-eyed glare and spun on his heel, returning to the active part of the facility. As soon as he turned the corner out of sight, Uriel let out a heavy sigh and slumped to the floor, cradling his head in his hands. The two wolves within the room began giggling hysterically with relief, flopping onto the boxes, shaking with laughter. Uriel grinned. They’d done it. He almost couldn’t believe they got away with it. He knew it wouldn’t last long, though. The three of them would be virtual strangers to Animus in human form, but Forest wouldn’t be. He knew him as an employee, and as the only pregnant male in the facility.
“Alright, pull yourselves together, men. We still need to figure a way out of here, and we have to find the other wolves.”
“They’re in the enclosure,” the smaller man told him.
Chapter Eleven
“Enclosure?” Uriel repeated.
“Yeah, the wolf enclosure in the zoo. Animus put me there for a couple days, but I wouldn’t stay domestic so he brought me back inside.”
“Do you remember how to get there?” Uriel asked sharply.
“I know how to get there from the infirmary,” he replied. “Don’t know how to get anywhere from where we are.”
“I do,” Uriel said.
He looked at Forest’s sleeping form and sighed. They could get away with faking an illicit tryst, but how were they going to explain the fact that they were dragging a sleeping coworker around the halls at five in the morning? He stepped over to the gurney and brushed Forest’s honey brown hair off of his forehead. Every fairy tale he’d ever read suddenly popped into his mind, with the same recurring scene just before the happily ever after. On a whim, Uriel leaned over and planted a warm kiss firmly on Forest’s full lips. Forest sighed against his mouth, and Uriel jerked back.
“Forest? Forest, babe, are you awake?”
Forest whimpered and his eyes fluttered. They opened just a sliver then rolled closed.
“Forest, wake up!”
Forest inhaled sharply and his eyes flew open. Violent tremors shook his body as he passed from the sleeping world into the waking one. His eyes darted around the room without taking anything in, before coming to rest on Uriel’s worried face.
“Uriel?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Yeah, babe, it’s me. Get up, you need to try to walk. We’re getting out of this nuthouse.”
“Out?” Forest blinked.
Uriel tucked an arm under Forest’s shoulders and heaved him off the gurney. Forest’s legs wobbled like jelly under his weight, but he moved them under his own power. Drunk, Uriel decided. If anybody asks, he’s drunk. Forest stumbled along beside him, and the other two wolves walked just behind and to the sides.
“What are your names?” he asked.
“Jason,” the smaller one said.
“Gomer,” the big one answered.
“Gomer?” Uriel repeated, amused.
“Gomer,” he said firmly.
Jason grinned. “His parents hated him.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Enough,” Uriel told them. “My name is Uriel. Alpha of the Iterin pack of the Astris tribe of the North.”
The two snapped their mouths shut and stood a little straighter. Uriel indulged in a private self-congratulatory smile. His title still carried weight, it seemed, in spite of his six-month disappearance. He led them to a cross section of the steel corridors then turned toward Jason.
“The infirmary is down that hallway,” he said, pointing. “I can smell at least a dozen humans in that direction, so if you can find it from here, do so.”
“Yes, sir,” Jason said respectfully. Jason squeezed his eyes shut, calling up the memory of his excursion to the outside. It didn’t take him long for him to catch his bearings. “This way,” he told them. “We can bypass those humans altogether.”
He took them in a wide U-shape through the hallways around the infirmary, stopping in front of a door with no handle. A key card reader blinked at them from the wall. Uriel nearly cursed, then remembered that they were dressed in goon uniforms. There must be a key card on one of them somewhere. He patted his hands over the clothes, searching for it. He hit a hidden pocket on his hip, and he ripped it open. The key card was there, concealed by Velcro, attached to the pants with an elastic cord. He sent his thanks into the universe, and swiped the card across the reader. It beeped loudly, too loudly. The door slid open and they rushed inside, willing it to close behind them quickly.
Uriel didn’t wait to see if they’d been followed.
“Alright Jason, where to next?”
“Follow me,” Jason said.
It took a moment for Uriel to realize that he was breathing fresh air. He glanced up and saw that, rather than a roof, there was a latticework of steel. Nothing any of them could break through, but the clean, fresh air felt wonderful in his lungs, and he was energized.
Forest felt the effects as well. He stood tall under his own power and raced alongside Uriel, gulping in deep breaths of air. The latticework was too fine to see the color of the sky, but Forest felt the dawn break in his bones. For weeks he’d lived in late afternoon, alone in his head, and now here he was—traveling with kindred spirits through a new dawn. Happiness bubbled through him in spite of their dire situation, and he found himself laughing as they ran.
Their path was blocked by a pair of wide metal sliding doors.
“That’s the elevator,” Jason told them. “That’s how they get the wolves in and out
of the enclosure.”
“So to get them all out we would have to go back through the research facility?” Forest asked.
“Maybe not,” Jason said. “There’s a door in the enclosure. It’s small though. They only use it to feed the animals and do wellness checks, so it’s human-sized. We might be able to get them out that way, unless they’re a lot bigger than I remember.”
Uriel nodded sharply and swept the card over the reader. The elevator opened and they filed inside. A camera blinked in the corner.
“Look at your shoes,” Uriel ordered.
They complied. The elevator stopped with a shudder, and the doors slid open. They exited quickly, into a large den or cave of some kind. Blazing orange light illuminated the opposite half of the cave, and Uriel led them toward it and out the opening into the enclosure. The warm morning breeze caressed his starving skin. It had been six months since he’d experienced a dawn and, in spite of their circumstances, he found it difficult to concentrate. He wanted to remain in that moment, letting the light of dawn kiss his body tenderly, forever.
A yip of recognition broke the spell, and he turned. A massive white wolf bounded toward him playfully. She stopped at his feet and bowed for a split second before bouncing on her forepaws excitedly.
“Bianca?” he asked in disbelief.
She yipped again, spinning in a circle happily. Her voice had woken the rest of the mismatched pack, and they tumbled from a second den, racing toward him. He counted six in all, plus the four of them. By his count, they were missing two.
“Bianca,” he said. “Where are the others?”
She whimpered sadly, and gazed up at him with soulful eyes.
“Dead?” he asked.
She nodded.
He ground his teeth and clenched his fists. Regardless of the extenuating circumstances, he had sired those werewolves. He felt their deaths as personally as if they’d been full-fledged members of his pack; in his mind, they had been. Hatred coursed through his body, and he was struck with the overwhelming need for revenge. Forest’s hand sliding into his brought him back to the moment. Six helpless wolves gazed up at him, counting on him to give them orders. He couldn’t do anything for the lost two now, but he could sure as hell save the rest.
Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 53
