by Alpha Wolf
She pressed in the password for Carla’s extension and heard the excited voice that had left a message.
Was that Nolan Smith? Melanie had mostly forgiven herself for all the eavesdropping she had been doing lately. She let the message play.
“Carla? You didn’t answer your cell or your home number. Are you there? Guess not. But I had to tell you. I got a message—another of those anonymous things over the Internet. It told me how to get into Ft. Lukman, near where there’s supposedly a secret laboratory—and if I go there right now, I’ll get to see a werewolf. I wanted you to come, but I can’t wait. I’m on my way. I’ll take pictures, I promise. Bye.”
Melanie’s breathing was fast and loud. He’d gotten an anonymous message inviting him onto the base to see a werewolf?
No way. Unless—could one of the Alpha team members be perpetrating this? Or did Nolan want to get Carla there for a nefarious reason of his own?
One way or another, he might be heading to Ft. Lukman right now. To an area near the lab? To the lab itself? Melanie had to find out. She grabbed her cell phone and tried once more to call Drew. And got his answering machine again.
Picking up her purse and heading for the door, she searched her cell phone number list for the base’s main number. When she tried it, she got only a crazy, pulsating tone. Weren’t the phone lines working?
What about one of the other Alpha team members? But if one was doing all this, whom could she trust?
Damn. She wasn’t in the military. But something was definitely wrong. Maybe she could just find Drew when she got to the base. Or enlist one of those civilian guards at the gate to get involved. Or…something.
But she couldn’t stay here. She turned on her security system, checked to make sure it, at least, was working, and headed for her car.
Where the hell was the guy?
“Can you find him, boy?” Drew asked Grunge, who, on his leash, sniffed the ground. “Is he here?” But Drew was pretty certain what the answer was. Especially since his own senses had found no trail.
He had driven like a maniac to the address he’d found for Smith—not the P.O. box on his Web site, but a home outside Mary Glen, near one of the creeks that ran into Miles River. It was more of a shack, but, peering through the windows, Drew could see a whole lot of high-tech computer equipment. Which probably meant the place was wired with a security system.
There was no garage, but the place had a roofed carport. It was empty. Out here, that had to mean the guy wasn’t home.
“Still no scent to follow?” Drew asked Grunge.
His furry, silvery buddy whined and looked up in confusion, obviously sensing Drew’s anger and frustration.
“It’s okay,” he lied to Grunge. “Forget it.” But he wasn’t forgetting anything. Okay, so he couldn’t get into the house easily, but that wouldn’t necessarily keep him out. First, though, he’d check out anything that was more easily accessible.
Like the cabinet at the far side of the carport. Not that anything important was likely to be there, but it was locked. Which piqued Drew’s curiosity. And his determination to break in. Was it wired for security, too? He kicked it in anyway and heard no alarm. Saw no camera. But he figured right away that it should have been secured as tightly as anything else. Even more so, since inside, Drew found exactly what he had been looking for: a couple of .45 caliber Glocks.
And with them were packages of bullets.
Silver bullets.
Was that Nolan Smith’s car? Melanie recognized the gray vintage Chrysler parked along the road, far from Ft. Lukman’s entry gate. Beyond the vehicle was the base’s fence, obscured by the thick trees.
He’d suggested to Carla that he had a secret way in. Had he also done something to cause the phone system to act so oddly?
Melanie had slowed to peer at the car. And then she saw a movement beyond the vehicle, in the woods—a flash of white.
She grabbed her cell phone and pushed the base’s main number in again. Still just noise. Same went for Drew’s number. And even Patrick’s.
She could go to the front gate, alert the guard, have whatever military guys were around rousted, assuming any were back after their full moon deployment off the base. But that would give Nolan time to work whatever mischief he was up to.
Seeing werewolves. Harming them, maybe.
Okay, then. She’d park, too, and hopefully follow him just long enough to figure out what he was doing. Then she’d go for reinforcements.
She pulled her minivan onto a dirt pad beside the road and got out. Did she still see him? No, not even any movement.
Yet again she tried calling Drew, but now her phone didn’t work at all. Not even when she tried 911, hoping to get Angus Ellenbogen’s attention. What was happening here?
Well, she wasn’t a kick-ass military type, but she did have a good set of eyes. And a cell phone that, even if it couldn’t make calls, took pictures. She would be careful, watch Nolan and photograph what he was doing, then get out of there.
As quietly as she could, she sneaked past the car and into the woods. The aroma here was mossy and wild. She even heard birds chirping.
She didn’t see Nolan at first. But what she did see made her nearly gasp aloud: the gate in the chain-link fence nearest the lab building was ajar. Just a little, but enough for a person, or a K-9, to crawl through, with brush beside it that had obviously been put there to obscure the small gap. How long had it been open?
Was someone at the base aware of it?
Melanie got down on her knees and parted the brush.
Nolan stood at the edge of the forest within the fence. He wasn’t looking in Melanie’s direction but into the wooded area near the lab.
He paced anxiously, holding a backpack in one hand. What was in it? Explosives? Or just some of his high-tech wizardry? If so, what was he planning?
To do something here on the base, to harm the Alpha members?
To harm Drew?
This part of the base was so isolated, so far from any help.
She was a veterinarian, not an expert in national security. Even if it took time, she needed to find someone who could—
What was that?
A movement in the trees.
Was Nolan meeting someone?
And then something huge appeared. Furry. As large as a man, on two legs, with a long snout.
It approached Nolan.
It wasn’t one of the shapeshifters—not one Melanie had ever seen. She tried to focus her cell phone’s camera, but she was too far away.
Whatever it was drew closer to Nolan.
He seemed to stare at the…thing. Quickly Melanie slid through the opening in the fence, slipping behind one of the nearest, largest trees.
She snapped a picture.
She could hear Nolan speaking now, his tone high-pitched and excited. “Oh, this is so great. I’ve wanted to meet you. Can you talk? You aren’t exactly what I expected, but—”
The thing suddenly dashed beyond Nolan. Oh, lord, it had spotted her! Melanie ducked and tried to run, but the creature was fast. Running by Nolan, it came toward her. Moved so it blocked any possibility of her exiting again through the fence.
A feral growl issued from its throat.
And Melanie knew how really bad her judgment had been. She shouldn’t be here. And now she couldn’t leave. Her heart thumped erratically inside her chest. Was this a real shapeshifter, one she hadn’t yet met? Or something a lot more menacing?
Undoubtedly the latter.
“Melanie?” Nolan called. “Is Carla with you? I hoped she would come to meet the werewolf, at last. Isn’t he wonderful?”
“Nolan, run!” Melanie shouted, her eyes warily on the thing looming near her. “Go find a guard. Anyone. This isn’t—”
“Don’t be frightened,” Nolan said in a soft and soothing voice. Melanie realized he wasn’t talking to her, but to the—whatever it was. He reached slowly into his backpack and brought out a gun. “See, here’s one of them.
I’ve done all you’ve asked of me so far. Shot the other shapeshifters. You know you can trust me. And of course I won’t hurt you unless—”
Without warning, the thing attacked Nolan. Nolan dropped his gun and yelled. The creature didn’t bite, but used some kind of mechanical thing in its hand to slash Nolan’s throat. Quickly.
So quickly that Melanie hardly had time to react. “Nolan! No!” she shrieked, then started to run.
But as she tried to get back through the gate, the thing grabbed her leg.
Chapter 21
O n her knees, inside the fence once more, Melanie demanded, “W-who are you?”
The thing—person? It had to be a person. It wasn’t like any shapeshifter Melanie had met. In their nonhuman forms, they all appeared to be genuine animals.
This resembled something from a horror movie—tall, on two legs, covered in fur and with a huge head that resembled a wolf’s.
A costume? Probably. But she saw no zippers, no fasteners of any kind. The pelt looked realistic, even if the head didn’t. She saw muscles ripple beneath the fur. If it was a costume, it was a damned good one.
The thing had let her go but closed the gate so she was trapped here, at this remote end of the base. It had returned to Nolan’s side, only a few feet away. It bent for a moment, then rose, making an eerie, growling sound. Trembling, Melanie tried to back away—but it rose and leapt toward her, grabbing her arm.
She started to scream, but the wind was knocked from her by a quick, hard slap that threw her to the ground.
“Shut up,” said a muffled but very human voice. The mouth moved, but it didn’t form the words. They came from somewhere beneath the surface.
No doubt. It was a person. That frightened Melanie more than if it had been a real animal, even one that had shapeshifted from human form. She understood wild creatures. Knew how to handle them. How to soothe them.
But a crazed man dressed like a large pseudo-wolf—she hadn’t a clue what to do.
She had to figure it out. Fast.
He held what looked like a cell phone in one large paw, and he pushed a button with a curved nail. And then he said to her, “Come with me, Melanie, and you won’t get hurt.”
Sure she wouldn’t. She started to edge sideways, hoping to rise again, to run—but he dropped the cell phone.
And turned a gun on her—the one Nolan Smith had been carrying. Filled with silver bullets, no doubt, but they killed people as easily as the lead kind.
She froze. But in a moment she was being dragged along the ground, still beneath the cover of the trees. She had watched Drew and the others work out in military exercises, both in animal and human form. As people, they performed self-defense maneuvers, even knocking weapons out of their opponents’ grip. But she had never tried it.
Bad decision, Dr. Harding.
Maybe it didn’t really matter. She clearly wasn’t as strong as…whoever he was. He was definitely not a werewolf. But he had wanted Nolan to think so.
Nolan. Was he still alive?
They approached the back door of the K-9 building, Melanie dragging her feet, as much as she dared. Could she get to the dogs, signal them to attack?
“Keep moving,” the man said. “To the stairway. We’re going downstairs, to the lab.”
He knew about the lab. Was he one of the military guys? A base civilian? But why pull this?
“Who the hell are you?” Melanie demanded, trying again to pull away.
“Does it matter?” Her captor laughed. “You’re going to listen to me anyway. And you make such delicious bait.”
Bait? What was he talking about?
Realization dawned. Drew. The guy believed that Drew would show up here to rescue her.
But he wouldn’t know she was here. She wasn’t on the best of terms with him now, and according to Drew she wasn’t supposed to be worrying about whatever was going on.
None of the other shapeshifters was here, either—not if they’d all gone to Washington with Seth.
That cell phone call—had it been made to Drew? But his phone wasn’t working. No phone around here was, so this creep hadn’t gotten a call out—had he?
If the freak had reached Drew, he’d mentioned the base. And her. If only Melanie had a way to talk to Drew, to tell him it was a trap of some sort. But why?
“I’m really confused here,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help you get what you want.”
Or not, if it meant blowing the shapeshifters’ cover.
Hurting Drew…
They were inside the building now. It was nearly dark in the hallway on the main floor, with only the faint recessed security lighting emanating from ceiling fixtures. The K-9s had heard them come in, and a cacophony of barks erupted from behind closed doors.
If Melanie could only open one, maybe she could slip inside and let the dogs out. She knew the attack command: “Kill.”
But the man still had her in a firm grip. She tried again to pull back, but he yanked her forward. “Come on.”
He apparently knew exactly where he was going, since he towed Melanie to the stairway door. He all but shoved her down the stairs, and when they arrived at the lower floor he yanked Melanie with him into the hallway. He used a key card.
And then they were in the lab.
“Hell!” Drew shouted toward the driver in front of him. Normally Drew would have understood someone driving slowly and carefully on the winding road. But not now.
Beside him, on the passenger seat, Grunge whined. “Yeah, tell me about it,” Drew said. “We’ve got to pass.”
They had been in downtown Mary Glen on the way toward the diner to hunt for Nolan when his cell phone had rung. Caller ID had shown an unfamiliar number with a local area code.
And then he had heard a woman’s voice. Melanie? It had been followed by a muffled voice that mentioned the base and Melanie’s name, then nothing more.
The base was where they were heading. Nolan was probably there with his gun and silver bullets. Ready to kill werewolves. Luring them to him by cryptic phone calls.
A trap? Probably. But one Drew walked into with his eyes open. And his heart? If that was Melanie, yeah, his heart was pretty vulnerable here, too.
He made a couple of calls on his cell. Seth was improving, and the other members of Drew’s team remained near him. At his command, they were heading back. Fast.
But they wouldn’t be fast enough.
He called Greg Yarrow, too. Gave the general a heads-up. But he was at his Pentagon office this week. Greg promised to send out the troops—although this was a week of a full moon so not much help was available on base. “Don’t do anything stupid, Drew. Stay back, find out what’s going on and wait for backup.”
Yeah, sure, that’s just what he would do.
Too much coincidence here, that whatever was going on just happened to be occurring this particular week. Someone knew something.
Was he being set up? Was it really Melanie he’d heard? And if so, could he trust that she wasn’t involved in whatever it was?
He’d made mistakes by trusting the wrong people before.
Yeah, Greg, I’ll be careful, he thought. Just in case.
There. Finally. An open area straight enough to see ahead. He passed the car, narrowly missing another vehicle that approached in his lane, then flooring it. Weaving on the narrow road, he neared the base.
And went beyond it to where he saw Melanie’s van and an unfamiliar car outside the gate near the lab building. He pulled into the woods, parked, and threw open his door, grabbing for Grunge’s leash.
As silently as he could in human form, he approached the secluded gate—and paused as Grunge pulled him under some trees.
There. On the ground, a body—not moving. Smith’s.
Covered in blood.
Drew knelt, touched the side of his slashed throat. A pulse. Slight, yeah, but he was alive.
Was Melanie?
No time to think about what
could have happened to her. “Come on,” he whispered, pulling Grunge’s leash.
As if understanding the urgency, the dog lunged toward the gate.
Melanie sat behind the desk in the corner of the lab. The chair felt hard against her back. She gripped the arms, willing herself to stop shaking and to figure out how to save herself. Her captor had insisted she sit there. He still aimed the gun at her as he paced the room, glancing often at the gleaming metallic counters.
“What are you looking for?” she asked conversationally.
“If I considered it your business, I’d tell you.” His tone wasn’t menacing now. In fact, he sounded pleased, as if he was exactly where he wanted to be.
Melanie figured that was true. “You’re keeping me captive,” she said. “I think you’ve made your identity and why you’re here my business.”
“You expect me to rip off my mask and confess all?” She could sense the smile hidden beneath his costume. “Know what? I think I’ll do just that. Since I intend to kill you.”
The pleasure in his tone made her shudder all the more. But if she could get him to talk, that might delay the potentially inevitable. Although at least she was probably safe until he achieved whatever had brought him here.
To harm Drew, too? How was she going to warn him?
The figure stopped walking. “This is damned uncomfortable. And it’s served its purpose.” Slowly, maintaining his aim at her, he removed the mask.
Mike Ripkey. A surprise? Not really. He looked older now as he grinned malevolently, continuing to remove his costume. Beneath it, he was dressed in a white muscle shirt that emphasized his scrawniness, and a pair of tight sweat pants that hugged his legs. His long hair looked damp and stringy.
She’d considered him one of many suspects in the breakins and attack on the animals in her clinic, but hadn’t focused on him. He’d seemed too nerdy, too involved with leading his gang of woo-woo aficionados up silly pathways to be doing such nasty things.
