by L. L. Raand
Katya shot her a glance, her brows drawing together.
Drake smiled and squeezed her arm. “I was worried it might be hard for you. You’ve only been home a few days.” Katya started to protest, but Drake went on. “Sylvan reminded me that you are a wolf, and you would stand.”
Katya sucked in a breath, her eyes shining. “Yes. I will.”
Drake hugged her. “I know.”
Katya’s wolf basked in the trust of the Alpha and the Prima, but she wasn’t worried about visiting Nocturne. From the minute Niki had come to tell her that she would be going on a mission with the Alpha to the Vampire stronghold, she’d been filled with excitement. More excitement than just a hunt. More excitement, even, than serving the Alpha. Something else. Something that came from a place she didn’t understand. Her blood raced, her wolf reared and paced frantically. Her body felt alive in a way it hadn’t since before she’d been captured and taken to that place. Her belly was tight with anticipation, the pelt thickening low down in the center of her abdomen. She wasn’t afraid to go to Nocturne. She couldn’t wait.
*
Raina ran and the wolves ran with her. Lara was fast, as fast as most cats, and kept pace with her, loping close to her right shoulder. The other two, silent and swift as wraiths, stayed back, guarding their flanks. She’d hunted wolves before, been hunted by them, but this was different. She imagined hunting with Lara by her side, driving prey between them, circling, stalking, chasing them down. Dragging the carcass back to their mountain den to feed the cubs, teaching them to hunt, teaching them to lead one day. She snarled and shook the strange pictures from her head. Wrong pictures. Wolves. Vampires. Not friends.
Something out there, Lara signaled.
Raina lifted her snout, sniffed the air. Lara was right. Cats, half a dozen or more, coming fast. The wolf shouldn’t have scented them first. But the Vampire—she didn’t know about the Vampire. Wrong.
Warn your wolves, Raina responded.
I already did. Lara bumped Raina’s shoulder. What next, big Cat? Your land. You lead.
Tell them to fall back. When the cats get a little closer, they should break off our path and swing wide to the east and then south.
Done.
Raina slowed, reaching out for a glimmer of the distinctive cat consciousness—agile and quick, clever and deadly. Closer now. The wolves should keep to the high ground. They’ll be vulnerable until they reach Sylvan’s border.
The Vampires will keep them safe.
Raina snorted.
They’re allies.
For now.
Lara’s eyes glinted pure wolf. Yes.
Raina cut sharply to the left, heading due north. Lara kept pace and Jace and Dasha fell back even farther. Raina felt the cats who bore down on them at a furious pace clearly now. Four, five, six dominants, coming fast. We’ll have to fight.
Lara growled softly. Jace and Dasha are heading east now. Are any following?
Two.
Lara’s canines flashed. Then let’s ambush the rest. We’ll only get tired if we keep running.
They’re wild, feral cats with nothing but death on their minds.
Lara grumbled, unable to sense anything other than raw rage. If the cats they were looking for were among these, they’d have a hard time holding them off in an open fight even long enough for Jody and Zahn to take them down. She was a Vampire, even if she was running in pelt. She could sustain almost any kind of injury—at least, her Vampire part could. Fire hadn’t hurt her, and she had walked in the sun. But if a cat tore her throat open or ripped her guts free, she wasn’t sure how long it would take to heal. And she couldn’t leave Raina unprotected. You take to the trees. I’ll draw them in. When Jody reaches us, you take the one we want. We can kill the others.
They’ll overpower you before she reaches us.
Lara snorted. They won’t. I’m not what you think.
You don’t know what I think, Wolf. Raina cuffed Lara with a huge paw, practically making her stumble. Claws raked her shoulder, not deep enough to injure, but the temper behind it was potent.
Lara dove low and nipped Raina’s belly hard. Do you want to get your cubs back or not?
Raina hissed. What makes you think I won’t just run and leave you to the ferals?
You won’t.
*
Michel drained her glass of port and set the crystal glass on the marble-topped Queen Anne sideboard in Francesca’s sitting room. Her blood awakened with a rush, and she carefully reached out with her mind, searching for the source of the stimulation. She found it, and her heart, filled with the blood she had taken from Veronica and the nameless Weres upstairs, beat faster. Visitors. The one whose blood still lingered in her cells called to her like a secret whisper in the dark. Her incisors punched down and her stomach tightened. She must find her.
“We’re about to have guests,” Michel said casually.
Francesca, apparently not yet aware of their visitors, lounged on the divan sipping her wine and toying with Raymond. She twitched one sculpted brow. “Oh? It seems this is a night for visitors. What fun.”
“These may not be quite as cordial as the others.” Michel tilted her head toward the other sofa where Veronica dozed in post-orgasmic stupor. “It’s Sylvan and a cadre of wolves. She seems—intense.”
“When isn’t she?” Francesca laughed delightedly and rose. Her pale blue silk robe, loosely tied at the waist, opened to reveal her voluptuous body through the sheer dressing gown underneath. She brushed one hand down over her breasts, and her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric. “Oh, this just gets more and more interesting.”
“I don’t think it wise for Dr. Standish to be here when Sylvan arrives.”
“No, nor the Were sleeping off his little interlude with me down the hall. Have someone rouse him and take him out the back.” She bent over Veronica and kissed her. “Veronica, darling.”
Veronica’s lids fluttered open, her irises wide and glazed. “What? I…” She blinked several times, awareness returning more quickly than Francesca might have expected. Veronica pushed upright. “I’m so sorry. How rude of me. I’m afraid I was quite undone.”
Francesca brushed her thumb over Veronica’s mouth and kissed her again. “You were wonderful, darling. And I’m the sorry one. I have an unexpected meeting. I’m going to have to leave you.”
“I understand.” Veronica, her voice stronger and her expression composed, straightened her clothing. “It was wonderful of you to see me at all.”
“Believe me, it was our pleasure.” Francesca mentally signaled for Luce, who knocked at the door a few seconds later. Raymond went to answer.
“Yes, Mistress?” Luce walked in, her skin faintly flushed from a recent feeding. She’d changed into a tight white shirt and black pants.
“Please see Dr. Standish home, and take care of anything she might need.”
“Of course, Mistress.” Luce bowed her head. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Take my limo. It’s in the private lot. You can avoid the crowds in the club that way.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Luce extended a hand to Veronica. “Dr. Standish.”
Veronica grasped Luce’s hand and stood, leaning ever so slightly into Luce’s side. She glanced at Michel, then Francesca. “Thank you again. I hope I’ll see you again very soon.”
Francesca smiled. “You will, darling.”
“Good night, then.”
Francesca waited until she and Michel were alone again. “Well. I expect we know why Sylvan is here. What do you suggest we tell her?”
Michel thought about Katya and the memories she had blurred so Katya would not remember their times together. She hadn’t wanted Katya to know she had been the one to force her to orgasm as part of Veronica Standish’s experiments, or that she had lost herself in bloodlust when Katya’s blood filled her. She’d been forced to erase Katya’s memory of coming to her in the woods and offering herself. Of the sex and blood they’d shared then.
> She could banish the memories of the feeding, but not the bond that now connected them. Katya didn’t remember and Francesca couldn’t know. Katya was a weakness, and Francesca exploited weaknesses, especially in those close to her. “I suggest we volunteer nothing and remember that when this is over, the strongest will survive, and I would not put my money on the humans.”
Francesca trailed a fingertip down Michel’s jaw and kissed her, slow and deep. “Nor would I, darling. The only one I count on is you.”
“And I, you, Mistress.” Michel slid an arm around Francesca’s waist and pulled her close. Francesca’s body molded to hers, while upstairs, Katya drew closer.
Chapter Nineteen
Raina vaulted into a towering hickory, its broad, thick branches forming a perfect ladder for climbing and its dense leaf cover shielding her from the ground. Below her, Lara slowed to a trot in a small clearing ringed by dense holly and evergreen bushes, intentionally allowing the converging cats to draw close. Raina crouched, ready to spring, her tail swishing angrily.
I don’t like this.
Don’t get twitchy, big Cat. Lara shot her a look, lip curled, pelt bristling. You’ll get your turn.
Raina hissed down at her. She didn’t let others fight her battles and she couldn’t sense the Vampires, didn’t trust them to provide backup. Lara was alone, and no matter how ferocious she was in a fight, she was one wolf against four cats. Four larger cats.
Lara swung to her right as the first cat broke from the underbrush, a male Raina didn’t recognize by sight or scent. So many of the cats were strangers, living in isolation in densely forested pockets where they carved out a living from the land and rarely ventured into settled areas or associated with other cats. He charged Lara, and Lara whipped out of his path, taunting him with a quick nip at his back leg. He roared a challenge and leapt again. Lara was fast, faster than any wolf Raina had ever seen. She crisscrossed the small clearing below almost too quickly for Raina to follow, darting in and out of the underbrush, leading first one cat and then another on a twisting, turning chase. The next cat to plunge into the clearing was one Raina recognized. He was a survivalist, the leader of a small group of Weres who congregated in the far northern reaches of New Hampshire in a fortified compound, heavily armed and a law unto themselves. He would have sold his services to anyone, and he had.
Below her, Lara spun to face the new arrival, the largest male and clearly the leader. He stalked her, seeming to enjoy taking his time. While Lara’s attention was focused on him, another cat, a female, darted in and raked her claws down Lara’s flank. Blood instantly soaked her pelt, but she made no sound, showed no evidence of pain. She was stronger than they expected, but there were four of them and only one of her, and they were seasoned hunters. They quickly realized the way to overpower her was to trap her between the four of them.
They pulled back and circled, slowly converging on the tiny clearing with Lara in the center, drawing the noose tighter. Raina growled softly in her throat. She wouldn’t wait much longer for the Vampires who might never come. Lara darted at the big male, snapping at his throat, drawing blood, but she couldn’t pull him down. He threw her off, a ferocious club to her head knocking her across the clearing. Before she could get up, two of the other cats pounced, biting and clawing. Blood soaked the ground.
Raina readied to attack.
No! Stay back. I’m all right.
Lara shook them off, circled, and slashed her canines across the throat of the female closest to her. The cat screamed, blood fountaining from her throat, and dropped to the ground, writhing from the mortal wound. Lara backed away, keeping the other three in her sights. She limped, her rear leg damaged by a deep wound that had torn through muscle, exposing the bone in her hip. Raina shuddered as fire shot through her own leg. The leader, the one they wanted, circled Lara while the others flanked her. She was trapped and losing blood rapidly. They were going for the kill. Lara was out of time.
Raina dropped through the tree branches and landed on the big male’s back with a furious scream.
*
The underground prison was not the dank, dark place Becca had envisioned, but a well-lit tunnel fifteen feet wide with a number of cells spaced out on each side. Some were enclosed only with thick metal bars, others by heavy wooden doors set with barred portals in the upper half. The young blond Were stopped in front of one of these and turned a heavy iron key in the lock.
“Thank you,” Becca said as Jonathan pulled open the door. As she started to step through, Claude, one of Jody’s senior guards, followed. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Just wait out here.”
“The Liege instructed me to stay with you.”
Claude’s bland expression and nonchalant tone suggested that was all the explanation she should need. What the Liege said was law. God, Vampires were stubborn, every one of them. Becca knew better than to argue—that only made her head bleed. “You have followed her orders, and now I want you to wait in the hall while I talk to this man. If I need you, I’ll call you.”
The Vampire frowned. “The Liege—”
“Claude,” Becca said softly, “the Liege wants you to guard me, and you are. I will be the judge of when and if I need you to do more.”
He hesitated for a long moment, then bowed his head. “Yes, Consort.”
“Thank you.” Becca entered the cell, and the wooden door slid silently closed behind her. The space resembled a dorm room. An open window high on the far wall, too small for someone to climb through, admitted the fresh night air. A single bed with a thick military-style olive green blanket stood against one wall opposite a small desk with a wooden swivel chair and a single goosenecked lamp. A small sink and toilet occupied one corner. A brown-haired man with a three-day beard, maybe forty, dressed in the same black BDUs most of the Weres favored when they dressed at all, sat at the desk writing on a legal tablet with a pencil. He turned when she came in, his expression wary.
“I’m Becca Land,” Becca said. “I believe we’ve talked on the phone.”
The man stood. “Martin Hoffstetter. Yes, I called you.”
“Can we talk?”
He grimaced and gestured to the room. “Do I have any choice?”
“I’m not here to justify why you’re here,” Becca said. “But I think we have the same goals—I think that’s why you called me. And perhaps if we can establish that to the Alpha’s satisfaction, your situation might change.”
“Sorry. I know you’re not responsible for me being locked up.” He sighed and gestured to the chair. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks,” Becca said. Martin sat on the bed, and Becca turned the chair to face him and pulled a small recorder from the pocket of her dark blazer. “I’d like to record this. Is that all right with you?”
“I guess it really doesn’t matter what I say, since human laws don’t apply here. Asking for a lawyer isn’t going to do me any good.”
“If you’re involved with what was done to Sylvan’s wolves in that lab,” Becca said, “you’re lucky to be alive.”
“Ah hell,” Martin muttered. “Actually, they’ve treated me fine—took care of my injuries, fed me, haven’t physically abused me—but I hate being a prisoner.”
“Can you tell me how you were involved in the experiments on the kidnapped Weres?”
“I was a guard.” His expression pained, he stared at his hands, gripping his thighs for a long moment. When he raised his head, remorse was evident in his dark brown eyes. “Like I told Alpha Mir, our group had heard rumors of some kind of experimentation going on in secret in these labs, but we didn’t have any idea that captive subjects were being used. I went in undercover, and when we realized what was happening, we wanted to get word out without endangering our people on the inside or getting the subjects killed. Our unit leader decided we should contact you.”
“Why not just tell me everything right away?”
“Those of us who worked inside didn’t know a whole lot—we were transpor
ted in blackout vans, didn’t know where we were, and moved around so much it was difficult to pinpoint locations.” He rubbed his face, closed his eyes for a few seconds. “I did the best I could to prevent the prisoners from being mistreated. We hoped someone on the outside—you or the Weres—would be able to track the prisoners if you knew they were captives.”
“What about the people doing the experiments? What do you know about them?”
“I didn’t have much interaction with them,” he said. “I delivered the prisoners to and from the labs, but I was never there while the experiments were going on.”
“Can you identify any of the individuals?”
“I might be able to pick a few out from photographs, but I don’t know anyone’s names. Like I said, I was way down the food chain.”
“How many more of you are there undercover?”
He hesitated, as if trying to decide if what he was revealing might be harmful. “At least a dozen. Maybe more by now.”
“We want to know who they are, to find out what they might know.”
His jaw set stubbornly. “Look, a lot of the people in our organization would be at risk if their identities became known. People disappear.”
Becca’s heart beat faster. “Disappear. You suspect someone killed them?”
“We think that’s the most likely explanation.”
“Sylvan Mir is not going to harm people who are trying to help.”
“She might not, but if the information got out, someone else might.”
“Security here, as you might’ve noticed, is very tight.”
He shrugged. “It’s not my call.”
“Then whose is it?”
“The person in charge of my unit.”
Becca figured one step at a time was the best she could do—this man was not going to give up any of his compatriots if they kept him locked in this room for fifty years. “If I help you contact your unit leader, will you try to get more information for us?”
“Yes, if I can. But I want something in return.”
