by Sarah Noffke
Zephyr eyed her and then the paper, which looked to be wet, probably from the perspiration on her back. From the look of her hairline, Rox had been sweating. A lot.
“Where have you been?” he said, realizing he hadn’t seen her in several days.
“Gardening,” she said plainly.
“Where? I didn’t know the Lucidites had a greenhouse,” he said.
She rolled her eyes, but smiled still. “Not here, silly. Adelaide gave me a few days off to move in to my new pad. I was planting seeds this morning, but took a break for lunch. That’s when I unrolled this newspaper, which is conveniently delivered to my cabin every morning even though it’s in the middle of nowhere,” she said.
“You’re a Dream Traveler who can go anywhere with your consciousness and you find it nice that some Middling has to travel up a mountain to deliver you news via paper?” Connor said, from his place still lounging at the conference room table.
Rox spun around, flashing a grin at Connor. “Yes, I’m so humble that I always appreciate the little things,” she said.
Zephyr unrolled the newspaper. “So if you thought this, whatever it is, was so important that you needed to return looking like a garden gnome, then why didn’t you just call in the information?” he asked, scanning the first page, which had a story about rattlesnake awareness in Southern California. That didn’t seem of importance to him.
“For the sole fact that I like to see your face when I out-detect you, Captain,” Rox said.
“Figured it would be some exotic reason,” he said, flipping over the paper to read the other side. The picture made his mouth fall open. But the caption caused his eyes to close with sudden frustration. Rox, with her unique brilliance, had found something that went on under the noses of the Lucidite news reporters and all their channels that scan for strange events. When he opened them, her face seemed to mock him, but he grinned still. If he was going to be outdone by someone, it might as well be Rox.
“What is it?” Connor said, standing from his chair and strolling over.
“The location of one of our werewolves, I suspect,” Zephyr said, flipping the paper around so that Connor could see the photo of LSU Tiger Stadium rocked by an earthquake.
His eyes snapped to the picture and then to the headline. “Massive Earthquake Rocks Baton Rouge,” Connor said, reaching out and grabbing the paper.
“How did this get by the Lucidites?” Zephyr said to Rox.
She wiggled her shoulders, a proud look on her face. “Who knows? They aren’t perfect. No one really is, although some come close,” she said with a wink. “Roya probably missed it because there were no casualties. And it’s the first major one in the area, but I thought you’d want to know about it.”
“Yeah, my guess is that was created by Clay Morris,” Zephyr said, his eyes growing distant.
“Is that his hometown?” Connor asked.
“Yes, and we know that the wolf drives most men to their origin,” Zephyr said.
“Because they mistake the need for home and family for the pack,” Connor said, again seeming to read Zephyr’s mind.
“Exactly,” he said, turning to Rox. “You want to join us? We’re going to bring in a were.”
“Wish I could, but I think you’ve got this one this time. I need a shower and it looks like my homeowner vacation is over. I’ll be here when you bring back the new dog,” Rox said, raising her arm and smelling under her armpit, a putrid look springing to her face. “Yeah, I’m ripe. I’m off to the showers.”
“Be sure to refresh your doggy jokes for the newbie. We wouldn’t want him to feel welcome when he gets here,” Zephyr said, watching Rox trot away.
“You know I’m always working on new material for you pooches,” she said, turning and walking backward as she spoke.
“Hey, and thanks for this,” Zephyr said, pointing to the newspaper still in Connor’s hand.
“Zeppy, you know I’ve always got your back,” she said and turned and walked away, hips swaying.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“The feeling of generating one’s body is like pulling your fist through your nostril. And if not done correctly then that’s exactly what could happen.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
Connor and Zephyr arrived at the Baton Rouge airport in the Lucidite jet. Zephyr had sat, drumming on Clay Morris’s file for most of the trip. He knew he looked contemplative, but how he actually felt was buzzing with energy. It wasn’t his own energy, although yes, he was excited to add another member to the pack. However, what he felt, as they neared the state of Louisiana, was an energy that didn’t truly belong to him. Now that he was focused on Clay, he felt what was going on in him. Like Rox had mentioned before, the more aware he became of the energy of a werewolf, the more he could hook a thought or two of theirs. It was because of this that he knew of the hell Hunter put himself through every day. He also knew this from visiting the “Rabid Wolf.” From their long counseling sessions. And those mostly broke him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was hard for him to know that there was no hope for a long-term future for Hunter, who couldn’t control his impulses. He wanted to believe in second chances, but the problem was that Hunter didn’t. He was unwilling to think differently, to be different. The man absolutely believed there was no way to stop being crazy and acting on his violent tendencies.
“So where are we headed? I’m guessing that’s why you’ve been having a mental pow-wow over there?” Connor said, putting down the game controller. He’d spent the flight playing video games, while Zephyr thought. Rio and Kaleb had been told to stay behind since Zephyr thought that not overwhelming Clay was a good idea. And besides, Rio and Kaleb had been assigned to train together. It was Zephyr’s strategy for bonding the unlikely pair. They were natural enemies, but that was unacceptable on Zephyr’s team. Everyone got along, because at the end of the day, a team was a cohesive unit, all cogs in a machine. One machine.
“We’re going to his house,” Zephyr said, rubbing his lips together.
“None of us went to our old spots though. We just went to the town,” Connor said.
“Kaleb went home, but that was because he was about to run away for good,” Zephyr said.
“Which was his attempt at self-destruction, because we can’t separate from something that holds us to our old or new pack,” Connor said.
Zephyr arched an eyebrow at Connor, appreciating his insight. He got it. “Yes, and the earthquake tells me that Clay is tired of hiding. He’s gotten to a new low.”
“That’s what the earthquake told you?” Connor said, an edge of doubt in his voice.
“Well, and I feel it. He was angry, but now he’s almost satisfied. Like that feeling one has after a long return flight, right before you open the door to your house,” Zephyr said, honing in on the feeling he’d been studying the whole flight.
“All right, well let’s hope that his fridge is stocked with lamb shanks, because I could use some protein,” Connor said, eyeing the bowl of pistachio nuts the in-service crew had offered the men. Just once he wished they’d abandoned their vegetarian policy. They had only relaxed the rules for the days when the men changed.
“Hey,” Zephyr said, standing, stretching as the plane taxied. “We never got to test my ability to turn on and off the werewolf before.”
“Yeah, we got a bit distracted,” Connor said, stretching as well.
“Well, I’ve done it alone, but I want to see how I react when around others,” Zephyr said.
“I think you mean, you want to see if you’re able to control yourself. So yeah, go ahead because the worst thing that can happen is you’ll tear me into bits and dirty the Lucidites’ pretty jet,” Connor said, throwing his arms at the silver leather recliners. The jet was pristine with marble tables and plush blue carpet.
“I just need to know that it’s a power I actually control in all senses. Turning it on and off, and controlling the wolf when in were form,” Zephyr said.
Connor rolle
d his hand forward dramatically, bowing as he did. “Go ahead. If anyone rips my throat out, I want it to be you,” he said.
Zephyr didn’t laugh, although he wanted to. Instead, he closed his eyes and found the mental switch that Aiden had told him about. It’s how Kris operated her invisibility. It’s how most operated their manufactured and natural powers. The switch wasn’t like sleeping, where one fell into dreams. It was like dream traveling, where one makes a choice and the body and consciousness react. Adrenaline flooded Zephyr’s system as the change happened. He’d only done this twice by himself, so overwhelmed was he by the experience. Before, he’d been a prisoner of the wolf when the change happened. Now, they seemed almost melded together. One. And to be able to do it at will seemed to make the wolf happy. It wanted to come out more often, not just once a week, like a dog being let out to the yard at the end of the day to sniff around and piss. The wolf wanted more, but still it bowed to Zephyr. He hoped that continued.
When he opened his eyes, his vision, which was already incredible, was even more enhanced. The sounds outside the plane were available to him, but he blocked them out, noticing that the plane was about to come to a halt. Raising his clawed hand up, he eyed the long black and silver fibers on his skin, aware that Connor was watching him. He switched his gaze to the guy before him wearing the tentative expression.
“So, do you want to eat me?” Connor said.
“No,” Zephyr said, listening to the voice in his head. “The wolf does, but I don’t. And guess who is in charge completely?”
Connor nodded, a look of appreciation and relief on his face. “So it works for you. That’s good,” Connor said, not sounding completely convinced.
“No, I have every hope it will work for all the werewolves. This is the approach that makes us one. Not man and wolf, but rather the truest of werewolves. Still, man will always be in charge because we are the higher being,” Zephyr said, and heard the wolf agree in his head. The man wanted the wolf and the wolf needed the man. They were a team, but one with a hierarchy, as it should be, since that was the way of the wolf.
How long had it been since Zephyr Flournoy sat on a porch swing? He never remembered sitting there with another guy, but hey, he wasn’t going to make Connor stand while they waited.
“He’s approaching,” Zephyr said, staying seated.
Connor followed his line of vision but didn’t notice anything.
“I don’t see him,” he said, squinting. “Where do you spy him?”
“He’s around the corner, on the other side of that house,” Zephyr said, pointing at the next door neighbor’s house on the corner.
“Oh right, X-ray vision,” Connor said, nodding.
“Yes, and I can feel him,” Zephyr said. It was the strangest sensation, like he was a fishing pole reeling in a catch.
“Should we stand up?” Connor said, kicking his feet, suddenly seeming restless.
“No. I think sitting will put him off guard more,” Zephyr said, noticing when Clay walked around the corner, into view. He wore his curly brown hair short and his beard about like Zephyr’s. Clay’s discerning eyes honed in on the pair, casually sitting on the front porch of his house. He paused, seeming to measure his resolve, and then started forward again.
“We don’t mean you any harm. Just the opposite,” Zephyr said when Clay was in earshot.
“What do you want?” Clay said, his Louisiana accent drawing out the words.
“We want to give you what you’re looking for, a place to belong. A pack to belong to,” Zephyr said, now standing. He didn’t sense any danger from Clay, who stood tall, his posture probably a result of his marine background. “I’m Zephyr, and much like you, I’m a werewolf, a product of the lab that made us.”
Clay’s crystal blue eyes swiveled to the man at Zephyr’s back. “I’m Connor, and also belong to your pack,” Connor said, almost making Zephyr smile. That was the perfect thing to say. It gave Clay the right impression from the beginning. Disarmed any aggressions. Made him feel welcome.
Clay’s eyes darted between the men, his mind seeming to be working, processing his next question. Before he could say anything Zephyr said, “You’re coming home because you’re tired of running and hiding. Soon you’ll try and return to your family and the job you knew, but you can’t do that. Olento Research, the sinister lab that made us, will find you. They’ve already tracked down a few werewolves.”
“I am tired of hiding. Are you offering me a different solution?” Clay said, his words slow, calculated.
“No. For now we must hide. But I am offering you the other thing you’re looking for: a place to belong, the family that you’re looking for. We all feel the draw since joining with the wolf. We need to feel tied to something, a pack. Come with us and you’ll hide, but be safe and extremely comfortable. And together we are going to take Olento Research down,” Zephyr said.
Clay stood taller, his eyes measuring the men in front of him and the offer being made. Then he held his hand up, offering it to Zephyr. “That last part is what I’m mostly after. I want to make the organization that did this to us pay,” Clay said.
Zephyr shook his hand at once, feeling suddenly stronger than before. “Oh, we’re going to do more than that. We are going to bring them to their knees and make those asshole devil worshippers wish we’d never been born.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“A vegetarian diet has shown to promote the best results both for using skills and dream traveling.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
Mika stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, appraising himself in the two-way mirror. His silver suit caught the bright light overhead, which was one reason he often wore the color. Well, and men of power wore silver. Grunts wore black or white. Those who weren’t men at all wore primary colors. Mika wore a color connected to steel, strength, and money. He turned and faced the two men standing with their hands by their sides.
“Who do you work for?” he asked Malcolm and Derek.
They kept their gaze forward and opened their mouths in unison. “Olento Research, sir,” they said together.
“Who do you take orders from?” Mika said.
“You, sir,” they again said in a chorus.
“What is your main objective right now?” Mika asked.
“To capture and return the werewolves from our pack,” they said, not tripping on any of the words.
Mika released a small satisfied smile. It had been almost too easy to brainwash these men into following his rule. Deprivation helped, but then the conditioning was reinforced with subliminal messages and shock treatment. Doing what Mika said and staying on good behavior was rewarded. Ideas connected to escaping or rebelling were followed by shock treatment. All the perfect soldier needed was a proper education. Drake would be going through this training soon. It proved to be highly effective.
As if cued from Mika’s thoughts, Drake passed through the lab door, his familiar clipboard pressed to his chubby chest. “We have a report on Cole Cosgrove, sir,” Drake said, hurrying over. “He’s in the woods outside of Destin, Florida.”
Mika pivoted to face his werewolves, who were standing at attention, chins held high, eyes glassed over. “Haiku will take you to this location. I want you two to go find Cole. Convince him that you’re taking him to a place where he’ll be protected. Not the labs from before but rather a safe house. Tell him that he’ll be provided for and best of all, with the pack,” Mika said to the men.
“So in other words, lie to him,” Drake said, with a sniveling little laugh.
Without taking his focus off the werewolves, Mika clenched his jaw, the only outward reaction to the scientist’s uncalled-for remark. A moment later Drake shot up into the air. His clipboard, slamming to the ground as his legs kicked underneath him. Then he flew backward through the air until his spine made contact with the wall of the lab. A rough grunt of pain spilled from his mouth before he slid to the white linoleum floor, where his head lulled forward as h
e struggled to breathe. Unhurried, Mika turned and rested his eyes on his chief scientist. “I may not be able to get into your head, but my other skills still work on you,” he said.
“I misspoke, sir,” Drake said, pressing up from the ground, his breath still heavy and his white lab coat twisted on his body. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
“It won’t, because the next time it does you won’t be able to get up,” Mika said, marching for the exit.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“After the first trimester of pregnancy, it isn’t advised for a pregnant woman to dream travel. This is because she has another consciousness in her body, which can create complications when dream traveling.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
The Institute was always frigid, probably because it was underground and the stainless steel walls locked in the cold. However, there was another reason that Trey Underwood had kept the five-story facility at a crisp sixty-eight degrees. It was the ideal temperature for optimal sleeping, or in the case of his residents, dream traveling. However, Adelaide didn’t ever really appreciate this since the redhead was always cold even in the heat of the summer. It was something in her genes, she thought, but she often attributed things to her DNA. It was easier that way.
