The Vampire's Wolf

by Jenna Kernan

  “What’d she say?” said the one behind her.

  “It’s the drug,” said the one at her feet. “Will you just look at her?” He grinned, his smile making him look younger, less threatening.

  She recalled Mac telling her that her influence was stronger if she stared into the man’s eyes. Apparently vampires and snakes had a way of mesmerizing a victim. Then, according to Mac, she only had to tell them what she wanted and they’d do it. But these were trained Marines, not weak-willed or easily influenced. Still, she saw no other hope.

  Bri cleared her throat and forced a smile at the orderly. Her ears continued to buzz as if she had thrust her head into a nest of hornets.

  “Could you take off these handcuffs, please?” she asked.

  He gave her a “be serious” look. But she just held his gaze and gradually he reached in his pocket.

  “What are you doing?” asked the one behind her.

  “She wants them off.”

  “Yeah, and...?”

  “So they’re coming off.”

  He slipped the key in the lock and twisted it. Bri tipped her head up and glanced at the man behind her.

  “I can’t get away,” she said to him and watched his expression soften, as if he was staring at a helpless kitten instead of a tigress.

  “That’s right,” he said. “You can’t.”

  “So it’s all right if my wrists are free.” She held her breath, expecting to be cuffed again. But both men just continued down the corridor to the last room as she tried to contain her astonishment. Large, imposing machines circled the bare stainless steel operating table. A huge light shown down on the silver surface so brightly she had to squint. Then she saw the metal stirrups fixed to the end of the table. Bri’s heart rate climbed and sweat broke out on her forehead. She trembled so hard that the gurney shook.

  “Easy now,” said Dr. Sarr, stepping into view and smiling down on her. Seeing him in blue surgical scrubs only added to her terror. He glanced to her escorts. “Why isn’t she out?”

  “Maybe the dose is wrong. We figured on her weight, but she’s not human.”

  Bri blinked as she realized how close she came to being completely helpless.

  “Let’s get you prepped,” said Sarr.

  Bri swallowed and fixed her attention to the doctor who returned holding an IV needle. He grasped her hand, turning her wrist to study her skin, searching, she suspected for a plump vein for that hollow-tipped steel needle.

  He loomed and Bri tensed. If she didn’t do something quickly he’d press that plunger and it would be all over.

  She had no choice. To escape, she would have to become the very thing she had denied.

  Chapter 17

  “Dr. Sarr. I’m not quite ready for that,” said Bri, eyes fixed on the terrifying needle. Her voice sounded funny and the buzzing in her ears had grown worse. “I need to speak to you.”

  The IV needle glinted. Bri forced her eyes up to meet the doctor’s and fixed a smile as her mouth went dry as clay. His gaze locked to hers. The wrinkles on his brow eased.

  “I have a schedule. Make it quick.”

  Her periphery still saw the needle but she looked into his eyes, seeing his pupils enlarge with each passing second.

  “I don’t want those Marines to hear,” she whispered and pursed her lips.

  Sarr ordered them out.

  “Could I have some water?”

  Sarr poured her a cup and hurried back to her then handed the water to her.

  “Is there something you could give me to counteract the sedative?”

  “That’s not wise before surgery. You need to be relaxed.”

  “I am relaxed. Just being around you makes me relaxed. But I’d like something to make me more alert.” She kept her gaze fixed on his.

  Sarr mentioned something.

  “Yes, please.”

  It was all she could do not to pull away as he used a syringe to puncture her vein. A moment later he was injecting a clear fluid through the rubber cover and into her bloodstream. If her influence hadn’t worked then it was game over.

  But almost immediately she felt more alert.

  “It’s a mild stimulant. How are you feeling? Ready to begin?” he asked.

  “Almost.” She stared deeply into his watery gray eyes and wondered if she could pull this off. “You seem tense, Doctor. Why not give yourself something so you can relax?”

  He turned to the counter and rummaged through drawers. “What about this?”

  “Will it put you to sleep?”

  “If the dose is right.”

  “Perfect.”

  She watched while he injected the drug into his bicep. The ease with which he did as she asked gave her a chill. How simple would it have been to ask him to inject a lethal dose?

  “I need your exit card.”

  He passed it to her.

  “Will this get me out?”

  “I’m sure they’ll stop you. There are cameras everywhere. Whoa. I need to sit down.”

  “Here.” She patted the mattress. “Lie beside me.”

  Sarr scrambled up as Bri slipped off the opposite side of the gurney, her bare feet contacting the cold floor.

  The doctor yawned. Bri turned to go and then asked for his surgical scrubs. He struggled to comply, getting tangled up as his pants caught on his shoes. Thankfully his white boxers remained up. Bri helped him and received a smile in return.

  “Did Travis MacConnelly really turn me in?” she asked.

  “No. That was a lie. Standard procedure—turn allies against each other.”

  His words brought sweet relief. Mac had not betrayed her.

  The doctor slipped out of his scrubs to reveal a muscular torso with some extra flab encircling his middle. She accepted his top.

  He grinned at her. His words were slurred. “You’re so pretty.”

  Bri unfastened her gown and dropped it to the floor. Sarr’s gaze swept over her and he licked his lips. She stepped back and into Sarr’s trousers tugging the drawstring until they fit her waist. Then she dragged on the blue V-necked top that hung on her but at least she didn’t feel a breeze. She tucked the plastic key into her breast pocket. On the way out of the door she grabbed a head cover to conceal her coppery hair.

  The urge to run twitched against the need to know what happened to Mac and Johnny. She glanced at the door and then to the man who might have answers to the questions that troubled her.

  “How did Mac and Johnny come to be werewolves?” she asked.

  “Mac was bitten.”

  “Accidental?”

  His laughed was the kind one used as a weapon to make someone feel small. “Lewis knew. He sent the squad into that hot zone.” Sarr lifted a hand to speak to her from the side of his mouth, dropping his voice in a confidential way. “He knew about the werewolf. That was his objective. Not securing the building. Not securing the werewolf. Lewis wanted a survivor. One squad, thirteen Marines. And he got two survivors. Mission accomplished.” Sarr yawned and closed his eyes.

  Bri breath hissed through clenched teeth and then gave Sarr’s jowly cheek a little slap. “The colonel sent them in on purpose to be butchered?”

  “To face the werewolf, yes.” He patted her arm clumsily and let his hand drop to the table. “I can tell you one thing, those things are vicious. I saw the surveillance tapes.”

  “Mac said that he attacked Johnny. Is that true?”

  “Hell of a thing.”

  Bri’s mind reeled. Mac hadn’t made an error in judgment trying to take the building. He’d been sent in there like cannon fodder.

  “Did Mac attack John Lam?” she asked again, feeling her opportunity at escape ticking away with the seconds.

  “We haven’t succeeded
in generating any new ones. In vitro doesn’t work. Fetuses are normal, no werewolves. Just regular little human babies, more’s the pity. We’ve tried with both Lam’s and MacConnelly’s sperm. I think werewolves have to be made instead of born. That’s my theory. Just can’t replicate what happened to MacConnelly. But we will.”

  “You... Do they know that?”

  The doctor frowned and shook his head. “Need to know.” His eyes drifted closed. “I wonder what would happen if we mixed theirs with yours?” he muttered, dropping into a doze.

  She shook him awake. “How do I get out of here?”

  He explained the route and told her where she’d meet armed Marines. The stimulant was now humming in her blood like a double espresso. Her fury and the fear only added to the mix. She knew she could run fast. But she’d have to pause at doors to unlock them, and there she would be vulnerable.

  Time to go.

  Brianna took the surgical mask from around Sarr’s thick neck and secured it over her face. Then she tucked her hair into the blue cap and headed through the door. All Dr. Sarr told her spun in her mind like a cyclone.

  She made it out of the operating wing without discovery and slipped unnoticed into the adjoining corridor past the signs indicating the recovery room and the pre-op area. She glided past the nurses’ station at normal speed, keeping her head down and her feet moving. Bri used Dr. Sarr’s key to slip out of the secure area and ran right into Colonel Lewis. He apologized and stooped to retrieve her key card. She didn’t wait for him to hand it to her but snatched it from him as she broke into a run that transitioned to a full-out dash. The nurses in the corridor seemed to slow and came to a standstill as she streaked past.

  With luck she’d be out of this damned building before they could sound the alarm.

  Then where?

  Bri paused to let herself out of the medical building and then bolted across the yard on bare feet, losing her cap. She could see the ten-foot perimeter fence, the razor wire rolled on the top, glistening with spikes. She’d have to jump it. She could. She knew it. But her gaze fixed on the razor wire and fear washed her cold.

  Her panic was roaring inside her, making her movements spastic. Was the stimulant wearing off or was the sedative growing stronger? Whatever the reason, she saw the Marines pouring from the buildings like red ants, their movements sluggish, but discernible. She was slowing down. She could hear their shouts now. See them pointing—at her.

  She’d never make the fence before they cut off her escape. Bri sprinted forward, but her legs grew heavier with each step. She leapt and hit the fence midway, clinging to the chain-links like a gibbon monkey. The metal seared her flesh. She reached and pulled, scaling the fence. Below her the wire shook as men climbed after her.

  She’d never have another chance. She felt it in her marrow. Her hands burned, blistered, and still she clung.

  You’ll heal. Keep going.

  * * *

  McConnelly and Lam approached the perimeter fence that ringed the medical facility and headquarters. The evening air had turned cold, but warmth still clung to the damp earth. Above them the sky was a midnight-blue carpet casting the trees in dark silhouette.

  It was hardest to see at this time, when the light had faded, yet the sky was still too bright to see with his night vision. Colors faded to black.

  They stared across the stretch of open ground before the medical facility, which squatted like a toadstool with much of its structure belowground.

  What were they doing to her right now?

  A moment later they heard the siren and saw Bri running across the open yard toward the fencing. He could see her clearly, despite the fact that the spotlight had not yet found her. She wore pale hospital scrubs, like oversized pajamas, and her wild red hair flowed out behind her as she galloped across the ground barefooted. She was moving fast, but nowhere near her super vampire speed. Bri ran and they chased—a dozen Marines charging after her. He watched her awkward gait. Something was wrong with her. They wouldn’t catch her before she reached the fence. But they’d reach her before she cleared it. Their bullets wouldn’t kill her. She’d heal no matter how many bullets they put in her, unless she bled out.

  Mac forgot the plan. He forgot every blessed thing except getting to Bri as he streaked to the fence, determined to tear it down with his claws.

  * * *

  A sharp sting of pain ripped through her upper arm and Bri lost her grip. Her opposite hand reflexively squeezed tighter, taking her weight, until she recovered enough to lift her left arm again, reaching to clutch the hated metal wire once more. Her palms burned as if the metal were molten hot, but she clung, tenacious as a barnacle, knowing that to release her grip was to fall back into the hands of that maniac Lewis and his evil doctor, Sarr.

  She caught movement beyond the fence and trained her gaze on the creature, recognizing him instantly. Huge, gray and running on all fours. Mac! He bolted straight at her on the opposite side of the fence. Behind him, some fifty yards back, Johnny followed, as always.

  Bri clung as Mac reared up on his hind legs and slashed at the barrier that separated them. The metal links popped open with a ringing sound as his nails sliced through steal. No wonder his squad had stood no chance against the werewolf.

  Behind her came the shouts of men and an instant later the pop of gunfire. Bullets sparked on the metal beside her head, and she dropped to the ground as the fence buckled and Mac leaped through. He gripped her upper arms and dragged her to her feet. Before she could run through the gaping hole, he lifted her and ducked out the way he had come. Bullets whizzed past them, and she knew from the way Mac arched that more than one shot had found his exposed back. But he crouched around her, protecting her from the flying bits of lead.

  As bullets drummed against his hide, he didn’t slow, just kept running over uneven ground, shielding her from harm as he carried her closer to the line of trees and the protection of the forest. Johnny passed them, running into fire as they fled. He moved so fast he was a blur of black fur, but she heard him howl a challenge to anyone foolish enough to try to follow his sergeant. She looped her arms even more tightly around Mac’s neck and clung. An instant later a ripping pain lanced through her arm as if she’d been stung by a hornet. Her arm dropped from Mac’s strong neck as the pain changed to a burning. A glance told her she’d been hit again because blood now ran from her upper and lower arm and stained the front of her scrubs. Mac looked down at her, spotted the wound and placed one hand on her head, covering her further as he increased his speed.

  Behind them the gunfire continued amid Johnny’s roar. She knew Johnny held back their pursuers, gaining them precious minutes.

  She and Mac reached the woods and Mac slowed, stopped and then howled. The sound shivered over her skin and iced her blood. Mac dropped to a knee and turned the way they had come. He set her gently on the mossy ground and looked toward the compound behind them.

  “Go get him!” she shouted to be heard above the din.

  Mac ran back toward Johnny. She was alone. Bri stood on shaky legs. Her skin flashed hot from the blood and cold from the night air. The palms of her hands looked as if she had been branded, but even as she stared the red welts and burns faded. She gingerly held her left wrist with her right hand, supporting her injuries and taking a more careful look. The blood that had poured like water from a pitcher, now oozed from blackish wounds. There were two holes for each bullet. Entrance and exit, she realized and she also realized the bullet had shattered at least one bone in her upper arm. That was likely why she felt nauseous. Her stomach pitched and kicked. Bri folded and lost the contents of her stomach. The dizziness came in waves as she stood with her forehead resting on the trunk of a tree. At last she could open her eyes. The gunfire had stopped.

  “Mac? Johnny!” Bri straightened and instinctively moved toward the two men who had protected her a
nd risked everything to get her out. What would they do to them?

  Bri made it half the distance to the open ground beyond the trees when Mac leaped into view. Johnny dove into sight behind him, and they both landed gracefully amid the undergrowth. She could see them perfectly in black and white, and she knew they could see her just as clearly. But still Bri gasped when their glowing predatory eyes fixed on her. Together in their wolf forms, they were a formidable pair.

  She stared in awe, taking in the differences. Johnny’s coat was pure black and Mac’s the mixture of gray, white and black hair that she thought a more traditional color for a wolf. They looked neither man nor wolf, but some corruption of both, and the combination unsettled her.

  Mac’s gums were black and he had the upright musculature and carriage of a man, but the fur, face and eyes of a wolf. The claws that jutted from his fingers did not belong on a wolf, but more resembled something from a horror movie.

  Bri was used to seeing Johnny like this but not Mac. He had seldom shown her this second self. Then as now, he had little choice.

  He was terrible and fearsome and she was so happy to see him that she threw herself into Mac’s arms, hugging him fiercely. His hand cupped her head and he let her cling for a moment before setting her on her feet. She stood staring at Mac and looked to Johnny, who shifted from side to side, his eyes on her.

  “Thank you for coming for me.” She held Mac’s hand and then reached toward Johnny. “Thank you, Johnny.”

  Johnny looked at the hand she extended and then took it in both of his, bringing it to his cheek for just a moment before releasing her. If Johnny had resented her at first, he had apparently changed his mind and now meant to protect her. She did not know if it was for Mac’s sake or for her own, but she was grateful.

  “Are you both all right?”

  They nodded. Mac clasped her injured arm. His nostrils flared as he sniffed at her wound. She trusted him. She trusted both of them. So she offered her injured arm for their inspection.