by J. C RIMELL
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2017 J.C.Rimell. All rights reserved.
Quote
One must learn to love, and go through a good deal of suffering to get to it... and the journey is always towards the other soul.
-D H Lawrence
Table Of Contents
License Notes
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Table Of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Epilogue
One
Blood oozed through the cotton like a crimson butterfly spreading its wings. Madeleine looped her belt over her arm but struggled with the buckle, her fingers fumbling as she tried to tighten it using her right hand and her teeth. A throbbing pain blazed in her left arm, the fierce heat raged through her body like a thousand needles stabbing her skin. She had no energy to run, but if she wanted to live, that's exactly what she had to do.
The make-shift tourniquet needed loosening soon, she thought, as she staggered to a stand leaning against the wide girth of a tree. The light was fading and it would soon be dark. Her breathing was already too labored, searing like hot ash in her lungs as her body shook with no control. Madeleine was going into shock. Being in her third year of residency at Seattle Hope, General Hospital, meant she was better equipped than most at self-diagnoses.
Dry autumn leaves and branches rustled in the background. Her head whipped over her shoulder.
It was coming.
The animal scented her blood. Warm hemoglobin had trailed in a steady stream from the vicious wound. A bite from splinter-sharp teeth deadly as a surgeon's scalpel.
She had to move… Now.
Forcing herself forward she ran with wooden and cumbersome limbs. Uncoordinated and strained, Madeleine put every ounce of self-preservation into it as the noise behind gained momentum. She heard the heavy thudding of its huge paws—or was that the sound of her own heartbeat hammering in her ears? She couldn't be sure.
The trees were sparse, naked limbs shooting out at her from every angle. They snagged her thick curls loose from her braid. Whipped her face, stinging and shredding her skin.
Madeleine felt the first drop of moisture hit her head. Tiny beads of rain fell and soon a rumble of thunder clapped behind her. The sky darkened to a deep, stormy gray, robbing the last slither of light from her view. When lightning forked overhead, she spotted the hollow in the trunk of a large oak tree and with the remaining strength she had left; she gunned for it.
Falling to her knees, she squeezed through the tapered slit at the base. She heard a snarl and the weighty padding of the beast closing in and panicked, pushing herself through the opening. Madeleine caught her injured arm on the rough bark and wailed in agony, the pain like a serrated blade cutting her open. She almost passed out.
The wolf was close now.
Madeleine wrenched her body into the protective womb of the tree and quickly pulled her legs in behind her, narrowly avoiding the hunter's jaws that followed.
Curling into a tight ball against the back of the tree, she only just evaded the beast's lethal bite, its head almost getting through to reach her. Massive shoulders rammed against the thick trunk sending chips of bark and rotten wood showering down onto her.
Devoid of strength and her body racked with fear, her wide, frantic eyes could only watch the crazed fiend try to finish what it had started.
In a few hours, she would bleed out. Madeleine could already feel consciousness slipping from her grasp. She was cold and wet and knew the opening to her shelter would soon give out under the continuous battering of the animal.
There was no place left to go.
She was in a cage.
Trapped in a corner.
With trembling hands, she removed the blood-soaked strap from her bicep. A gush of warm blood pumped free and flowed in a rivulet down her arm into the ground. The animal growled and snarled, saliva dripping from its fangs as her scent intensified its frenzy. It hammered the full weight of its body against the tree with its jaw snapping at her, frustrated that it couldn't reach its prey and devour it.
Madeleine could no longer see it now as everything went dark. Her breathing became shallow. Her mind ghosting over with a cloud of obsidian until all she heard was the thunder and the slowing thrum of her dying heartbeat…
§
Madeleine woke with a start from her recurring nightmare. As always, it was just so vivid and felt so real. The traumatic memory had plagued her ever since the incident. The images had never left her and were becoming worse.
Covered in sweat, she slipped free of her tangled sheets and checked her alarm. The red display was flashing 03:15 am.
Shit.
It was no surprise. She woke at the same time every morning despite working extra long hours. Her body seemed determined in its refusal to allow her one night of respite. With a groan, she clambered out of bed and hit the shower.
The hot water was both a soothing balm washing away her fears and easing her tense muscles. Just the tonic she needed to wake her up from one hell of another awful sleep. Lathering soft, soapy bubbles over her body and washing her long, rebellious curls, she tried to recharge herself for another day. But as she rinsed away her nightmare, she was unable to ignore the cracks forming in her shield.
It had taken years of practice for her to protect her personal thoughts from the others in the pack. She didn't want them to see the rogue wolf that still infiltrated her sleep every night. Having become a shifter with the extraordinary ability of healing, Madeleine was still a complete enigma and the only one of her kind.
Her defense against unwanted eavesdropping into her private thoughts by other pack members was taking up a great deal of her energy. She knew it wouldn't be long before Fleet cottoned on. As alpha, he was finely attuned to each individual's mind. He'd be well aware and able to see the strain in her barricade. Though, Fleet would never interfere without absolute necessity and always respected his packs' privacy.
Madeleine had spent most of her time shut away in the lab trying to find an antidote for the supernatural species that were once Walkers. Ever since the pack brought two of them back to the compound, she had the task of reversing the change inflicted upon them by a vampire.
The vampire respon
sible was Valerie Dupont, another detainee in Shadow Packs' holding cells. Valerie had been most cooperative since her entrapment whilst making her break for freedom from the Vampire King, Leon. She was a crucial part of the process. After all, it had been her venom that had transformed the ancient walkers into the monsters they had become. Mutating their DNA meant they could no longer roam the earth and morph into any creature they desired to be. Instead, they had to depend on human hosts that only lasted a few months if they were lucky.
Their time was running out.
Madeleine's elusiveness was by no means linked to avoiding one of the pack. At least, that's what she'd convinced herself.
No, that kiss between her and Ryker hadn't anything to do with her shutting herself away. Or why she had immersed herself so deep into her work, she'd lost track of what day or even what month it was. Nor did it have anything to do with a certain female FBI agent that seemed to have more than just a professional interest in Ryker. She'd seen how that woman had looked at him. The lust in her bright, green eyes and how undeniably attractive she was.
With a grunt, she rolled her eyes in utter annoyance with the direction her thoughts were heading. She flipped off the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel. It didn't matter how hard she tried to fight it, though, Madeleine couldn't deny that she missed the packs' company. Shifters weren't loners. They craved affection and touch. They thrived together, and her isolation was beginning to take its toll.
Dressing in a light cream sweater and an old pair of Levi's, she slipped into a comfy pair of supple ballet pumps and her lab coat. With a quick mug of instant coffee and her glasses, she headed out the door of her quarters keeping her head down all the way.
§
“You're sure of the location?” Fleet asked, the lilt of his Carolina accent holding a sharper edge than usual.
Cade glanced sideways and met the golden brown eyes of his alpha. “I'm sure. The Intel came through from Tatum Casteel and Remi Skye early hours of this morning.” Fleet's new second in command informed him. The two Sentinels had been carrying out covert observations on a Chateau in Northern France for the past week, following a tip-off from an unknown source.
Fleet narrowed his gaze on the computer screen and leaned over Snow's shoulder as the young technical wizard zoomed in on a map of the area. “What do we have?”
“The guys should infiltrate the building sometime tonight, central European time. It'll give us a better look at what's going on in there,” Cade answered while Snow's fingertips ran over the keyboard. “I've done some more digging around on that anonymous call to Henderson. It came from the same location.”
Fleet ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “What about the owner? Who the hell lives in a place like that?” After studying the layout on the computer screen, it was clear whoever owned the place was wealthy.
Filthy, stinking rich kind of wealthy.
Snow pulled up the credentials of an astute French businessman. “Meet Simeon Chaput.” He paused his typing so his alpha could read the low-down on the guy.
“Holy shit,” Fleet hissed. “He's the owner of one of the biggest rare and vintage car restoration companies in Europe. And he has a character that's more saintly than the Pope for fucks sake.”
“Yeah, the guy's got his fingers in a lot of pies, varying charities too. Help the homeless, an orphanage for abused kids, a clinic for abused women. You name it. The list's a long one.”
Fleet straightened back up, his eyes sparking with the intelligence of his years and the power of his dominance. “I want everything you can find out about this Chaput on my desk within the hour. And get a hold of Henderson for me. He needs to be in on this too.” He marched away with the graceful stride of his wolf, stopping when he reached the door. Glancing back toward Cade he said, “Good work, keep it up.”
Cade's lips tugged up in one corner, pleased he was proving himself to be a good wingman. Since discovering he was the grandson of the Overseer and mating Kit McCoy—the Englishwoman he'd risked his position within the Society for—he finally felt at ease in his own skin.
Fleet gave a curt nod before turning to see Ryker entering the room. “Ah, tell Madoc I want to see her in my office… ASAP.”
Ryker frowned. “Sure,” he replied, uncertain of the tone in his alpha's voice. It had been a while since he'd been anywhere near Madeleine. After making a complete ass of himself, he figured he'd be the last person she'd want to see. Ryker couldn't deny how much he missed her company. The past few weeks had left him feeling a little hollow.
“Everything all right with Madeleine?” he asked cautiously, knowing only too well his alpha wouldn't divulge information about another pack member's personal life unless it affected pack.
Fleet sighed with heavy concern, intrigue skating across his eyes. “That's what I intend to find out, Ryker.”
Ryker met Fleet's probing gaze and felt the accusation like a physical blow to his chest. He lowered his shadowed eyes and moved past him. The last thing he needed was his deep-rooted emotions read too closely by his alpha. He had way too much emotional baggage harboring in his soul, and that shit was private. “Okay, I'll drop by her lab.”
§
An hour later, Jack Henderson entered the lair and headed straight to Fleet's office. He rapped his knuckles against the door that was ajar and it swung open under the impact of his heavy fist.
“Jack.” Fleet greeted the Chief of Police while sitting behind his desk finishing his breakfast, the smell of bacon lingered in the air. “Come on in.”
“Fleet.” Taking a seat opposite, Jack grabbed the file awaiting his attention and flipped it open. Scanning through the pages he whistled low. “Simeon Chaput of S. C Enterprises? Shit, we're talking pretty big fish here.” His eyes lifted from the file to meet Fleet's shrewd gaze.
“Seems so,” Fleet agreed after draining the last drop of his coffee. “The guy's a long way from Carolina, but he's known the world over.” His attention shifted to the computer screen. Opening the e-mail that had just entered his Inbox, he made a mental note to call the Overseer before returning to the matter at hand. “Tatum and Remi are still carrying out observations. They're aiming to storm the place tonight. I need a team ready to collect them as soon as they call in.”
“Sure, I'm on it.” He closed the file. “How are we planning on handling the situation with Jo? She'll have a lot of questions.”
“It's unfortunate, but there's only one way.” Fleet had already given it some thought. The Society couldn't risk Kit's aunt knowing too much. Being kidnapped by a bloodsucking vampire was bound to have raised alarm bells that could well lead back to the shifting community too. He could only guess at the trauma she'd been through, too, no one deserved to re-live a nightmare like that. “Tatum will keep her sedated and I'll carry out a mind sweep on her as soon as she's back safe.”
“Shame,” Jack replied. “She may have some useful information.”
Fleet nodded. “Perhaps, but we're making excellent progress on our own. The Feds have a particular interest in the Frenchman. The call you received came from the same location. Seems like Chaput has a mole.”
Jack's gaze narrowed in contemplation. “Do the Agency want an undercover officer to go in?”
Fleet stood up, his full height casting Jack into shadow. “I'll get Ryker onto it, he's the liaison for the Feds and then let you know. It'll take some careful preparation and input from the FBI. I'm thinking the handsome, millionaire bachelor may have an eye for the ladies. Nevada might prove the best choice for an undercover stint like this.”
“Jeez, I pity the guy already.” Jack joked, but everyone knew Nevada wasn't a female you messed around with, not if you valued your manhood.
Understanding the meeting was over, Jack stood and gave Fleet a clipped nod. He spun on his heel and Fleet watched him leave. His instincts were telling him the chief of police had an agenda, one that rubbed the alpha's fur the wrong way. It had nothing to do with work, tho
ugh, he thought, rubbing a hand over his chin in silent consideration. No, if Fleet's intuition was anything to go by, Jack Henderson's focus was on a certain female down in the holding cells.
“Shit, that's all I need.”
Two
Garbed in black combat gear, Tatum and Remi prepared their weapons. Silently, they waited for the three-minute gap in rotation between the security staff at the back of the Chateau. They were about to go into the property they'd been carrying out observations on for the past week.
The French estate was heavily guarded. Black clothed figures patrolled the grounds, each armed with a semi-automatic rifle. There was some doubt if Remi and Tatum would even locate the woman they'd come to rescue.
But they were both powerful Sentinels and had some impressive missions under their belts. The two men shared the same determination to complete the assignment or would die trying.
“You got a Bella Signorina yet, man?” Remi asked in his distinctive, Italian-accented English.
A grunt. Tatum wasn't the kind of guy that shared much private information. With his keen eyes trained on the building he answered, “I'm not here to talk about girls.”
Remi shrugged with his palms facing the darkening sky. “Ah, c'mon, just talking man to man. For a big guy, you're so touchy.”
“Yeah, Englishmen are far more reserved than you Latin lovers, brother.”
“What can I say?” Remi said raising a brow and with a curve of his lips. “I love women.”
Tatum smiled at his friend's amusement, but he was a loner. A deep part of him and his wolf teetered on the verge of wildness. He walked a fine line and had no intention of bringing a female into such an equation. Not that he didn't enjoy a little female company from time to time.
On the contrary, a woman's touch was a welcome balm to both man and wolf. But that's as far as it went. Being duty bound and making the pledge like the rest of his brothers and sisters to the Society, he was prepared to remain unmated.
“Something's happening down there.” Tatum's eyes scanned the area through the thick forestry camouflaging them. “The security are congregating to the far side of the property.” Leaving them an open window of opportunity.
