Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)

by Veronica Del Rosa

  A part of her had given up on escaping.

  That sense of hopelessness destroyed her more thoroughly than anything these “scientists” put her through. The realization that she may die here, on their whim, sunk her deeper into despair.

  Her regenerative abilities meant she could take almost anything they thought up. And these bastards were a cruel, sadistic lot. Her Enforcer training now seemed like time spent with children. Harmless, playful children.

  Agony now walked hand in hand with her, whispering all its grim secrets in her mind.

  Her near-immortal life span weighed on her, an albatross choking her. Could she spend years, decades or more here without going insane?

  Never to see her family again or her pack. Never to see Derek.

  A memory took hold, distracting her from the pain. At the age of thirty, she’d been close to her Change, considered an adult by human standards but only a teenager in the eyes of werewolves.

  “Mom, do you really think I should go? I’ve heard he’s tough and mean. He doesn’t even smile. I’ve seen pictures of him, and he’s always scowling.”

  Maternal love shone in her mother’s dark blue eyes as she brushed a strand of red hair from Sylvia’s cheek. “Sweetie, I wouldn’t send you if I thought you couldn’t handle him. You’re headstrong and stubborn. A weaker Alpha would be ground under your feet. Derek will help you control your wolf, teach you how to merge and understand your instincts.”

  “What if Derek’s a chauvinist jerk like Perry?”He was part of the reason for this transfer. She’d talked back on too many times, and the Alpha didn’t like it. In his world, women were pretty things to sit quietly and be admired.

  “No one’s like Perry.” Perry didn’t realize Alice was the reason so many of the women werewolves no longer sat on the sidelines, content with a housewife’s existence. She held weekly meetings and discussed ways to gain equal rights within the pack. But even with her mom’s quiet campaign, Sylvia was suffocating.

  “Thank goodness,” Sylvia muttered.

  “And if he is, then prove him wrong. Where’s your backbone? We didn’t raise a timid woman,” her mother chided.

  “I don’t know what it is, but Derek scares me.” His deep, unfathomable eyes pulled at her even in pictures. The dark brown irises almost glowed in contrast to his black skin. She dreamed about him, almost obsessed over him during her waking hours.

  Pausing to consider Sylvia’s words, she finally responded, “Do you think he’ll hurt you? We’ll stop the transfer then.”

  “No, don’t,” Sylvia rushed to respond. “He won’t hurt me. We would’ve heard rumours if he abused his pack. I’m just being silly, letting fears of the unknown worry me.”

  Alice opened her arms. Sylvia gratefully accepted the embrace.

  Sylvia almost smiled. Derek had exceeded her panicky expectations. While he didn’t smile often, he had made her welcome in his pack. The other members had opened their hearts to her. They’d become her family, a tight-knit one she missed almost as much as she missed her freedom.

  Faint footsteps.

  Her ears twitched.

  She gave no other response to the sound. No reason to give away her strengths to the enemy. Staying prone on the floor, she waited, wondering what they had in store for her today. She had no way of fighting them off. Aggression just made them increase the drug dosage.

  Initially, she had refused all food and water, afraid of consuming their drugs. She had quickly learned they had no need to tamper with her food. Tiny holes drilled into the ceiling allowed them to pump knock-out gas into her cell. The glass wall/sliding door had a small window so they could shoot a tranquilizer dart at her.

  And when they felt daring, they used a needle to inject sedatives right into her vein.

  The first time they had used the more personal approach, she had attacked, clawing one of them across the face. They’d tranqed and savagely beaten her in retaliation. Whenever she saw that man’s scarred face, fierce satisfaction rolled through her. He’d never forget her, even after they tossed her in a shallow grave.

  Idly, she wondered which method they would favour today, unable to drag up any emotions to care one way or the other.

  A scientist stopped at her glass wall and gazed at her. His dirty-blonde hair was shaggy and in need of a cut. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks and his lab coat was wrinkled. He looked as if he’d spent too many nights sleeping at his desk.

  Any sympathy she might’ve had was erased as soon as she met his stare, the cold, empty stare they all adopted. In their eyes, she was little better than an animal, a lab rat to be experimented on – for the good of humanity, of course.

  Heaven forbid they have problems sleeping at night.

  “Experiment 4626, stay where you are,” he said as he slid open the door.

  Standing in the doorway, he pulled a needle from the pocket of his lab coat. He removed the cap and pushed the stopper to remove any air.

  A thought fluttered in her brain. An air bubble would stop her heart. Perhaps for good? A permanent end to her suffering?

  Berating herself, she pushed the suicidal thought away. She was stronger than them.

  They would not break her.

  They would not.

  With eyes glazed from previous druggings, she watched as he stepped closer to her, no fear or hesitation. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to rush him, rip his throat out and escape out the door. But where would she go? How far could she get before they captured her?

  Listen to me, Sylvia. The sound of her name startled her. For the past few months, they had addressed her as 4626. She’d almost forgotten her name. She cocked her head to the side, curious as to who spoke. The scientist’s mouth hadn’t moved. It felt like the pack link, but he wasn’t a werewolf. She’d smell it if he was.

  I’ve cast a spell to let me speak to your mind. We don’t have much time. The drug I’m giving you is diluted. It’ll last for approximately three hours, and then your metabolism will break it down. You’ll have a chance to escape. I’ll create a distraction and free as many prisoners as possible. Take out any guards you find. Snarl at me if you agree.

  She rapidly went over the implications of this. Could she trust him? Was this a trap or was he serious about helping her escape? Why, why did he want to help her? His dead expression gave nothing away, and yet there was something about his scent. It teased her, told her she could trust him. Hoping she wouldn’t regret it, she snarled at him, giving him her agreement.

  Without hesitation, he crossed the small room and stopped within inches of her. Faster than she expected, he slid the needle into her arm and injected her. Sylvia’s vision blurred, darkness edged in, and her last sight was of a slight grin from the scientist.

  It almost made him handsome.

  Chapter Three

  Panting from exertion, Derek laid on his side, surrounded by pine and maple trees. The crisp autumn air ruffled his fur and helped cool down his overheated body. The scent of rabbits teased his nose as they scampered away from him. A deer fled through the underbrush, spooked by his earlier crashing through the woods. He hadn’t bothered with stealth, simply wanted to run himself ragged. Perhaps then he could sleep.

  It hadn’t worked so far, but one could hope.

  He normally loved this time of year, when the leaves changed colour and the nights grew longer. However, he felt no joy in the shifting of the seasons. It served to remind him Sylvia wasn’t with him.

  A faint rustle of leaves to the left. Could’ve been from the wind, but the twig snapping wasn’t. He growled low in his throat, warning the intruder. He was in no mood to play. Even after running himself into the ground, he still had too much pent-up energy. His heart beat faster in anticipation as he now hoped it was a foe. He could do with a no-holds-barred fight.

  Victor stepped into the small clearing. Mage Enforcer. Specialty, demon hunting. Partner, Jackson Thorne. And the reason for Sylvia’s abduction.

  He kept his hands loose
at his sides, palms out to show he came in peace.

  Derek grunted in disappointment. He’d love to rip him apart. A shame the Mage Coterie valued him as an Enforcer. Why, he had no idea.

  Personally, he found the man to be aggravating, irritating and a little too smug. Although, truth be told, he had a few more reasons as to why he hated pretty-boy Victor, ones he didn’t like to admit.

  “Wolf, I need to talk to you.”

  Derek curled his lip at that. Like he gave a shit about what Victor wanted or needed. This mage had dragged Sylvia into a mess she couldn’t handle. As Jackson’s partner, he’d asked her to investigate the disappearances of several civilians. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been fine, except he’d also told her to keep quiet about it. She’d hidden her activities from everyone.

  It had left her vulnerable.

  He stood up and ambled away. A slow, leisurely retreat, meant to show how far beneath contempt the mage was to him. Victor’s next words stopped him dead though.

  “We’re breaking Sylvia out tonight, and we want some wolves with us.” The calm statement tore through him, making him forget his animosity. Nothing mattered except Sylvia. He’d work with demons and Fae if needed.

  Derek changed into his human form, a faint shimmer surrounding him as his body contorted. Bones snapped and reformed. Within seconds, he’d shifted. He tried to recall where he’d stashed his clothes but promptly stopped caring. Nudity didn’t bother werewolves the way it did humans. And honestly, he hoped it bothered Victor. He took perverse pleasure in discomforting him, had since the day he’d met the smug bastard over thirty years ago.

  It was a shame that the man didn’t react in the slightest.

  “Where is she? How did you find her?” He held his breath while he waited for an answer. If this was a joke, he’d rip Victor to shreds.

  “We’ve tracked her to a small town up north, past Timmins. Some kind of research facility with military security. Markus is negotiating with the Fae. Portal’s close to the building Sylvia’s being held in.” Victor’s toneless voice rubbed Derek raw. His jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth. They could’ve been discussing the weather instead of rescuing Sylvia. Did he care so little for her? He’d seen the two of them together. Sylvia desired him.

  Claws broke through his fingertips.

  Make him bleed. Tear him apart. He doesn’t deserve her. The thoughts pushed him one step closer into the fathomless ocean of rage waiting to suck him under. Drown him until all he breathed was hatred.

  She’s all that matters. Don’t fuck up her rescue by killing Victor. Sylvia, the tether that kept him on this side of sanity. With conscious effort, he reined in his temper.

  “How many wolves do you need? I control all of the ones in Ontario, around six hundred of them. Thirty in the Toronto pack alone and ready to move out within the hour. I can also contact the ones around Northern Claybelt, see who’s close enough to help.”

  Victor nodded. “Gather everyone in the Toronto pack. Have them meet us at headquarters. Tell your northern wolves to wait for us at the southern end of Little Goose Lake. About twenty minutes north of Timmins. They don’t move in without us. Anyone who doesn’t follow orders will be severely punished. Markus said he’d take great personal pleasure in chastising anyone who jeopardizes this rescue mission.”

  Markus’ involvement buoyed him. Another Mage Enforcer, one whose name was synonymous with unwavering persistence. The toughest assignments went to him as he always produced results. And as Derek’s friend, Markus had a personal stake in this rescue.

  A tingle of electricity danced up his spine. Silent and watchful, Derek steadied himself as Victor gathered magical energy. Mages creeped him out, even the rare few he called friend. How Sylvia spent huge chunks of time with them, he had no clue. The change in atmosphere, the pressure build-up and the faint stench of ozone when they cast spells made his skin itch. Even small ones requiring little energy affected him.

  And this was no small spell Victor cast.

  Goosebumps covered his exposed flesh.

  Attack. Disrupt the spell. Dissipate the energy, his inner voice urged. He stood motionless and ignored the sensations. Seconds later, Victor disappeared as he teleported to the downtown HQ.

  Sylvia’s been found. We rescue her today. Gather at my home. Derek sent the message to his packmates in Toronto. He changed back to a wolf, faster in this form. The wind sliced through his fur, and his paws barely touched the ground as he raced home.

  As he burst out of the woods, a flurry of bird wings heralded his arrival. His home backed into the overgrown greenbelt his pack enjoyed roaming and hunting in. Normally he loved his large backyard with its massive oak tree, industrial-sized grill and abundant picnic tables that were ideal for pack gatherings. But now he cursed the extra fifty yards for delaying him, for being one more damn obstacle between him and Sylvia’s return.

  Circling around to the front of his house, he changed back to human and snagged a pair of jeans draped on the porch railing. One of his packmates had known he’d need them – most likely Zmitro, his right-hand man – and he was grateful for the gesture. His long legs now encased in denim, he thundered up the stairs and through the open front door.

  Empty when he’d left, the main room had been filled with werewolves in his absence. Several were in human form while others had come as wolves. The body heat and scents overwhelmed him, especially after the clean, cool air of the woods.

  Emotions blasted him. Anger, sorrow, fear and hope mingled together, making it almost impossible to distinguish who felt what.

  Pride stirred in his chest. The pack had dropped everything to answer his call. A close-knit family, only thirty in the Toronto area, they spent holidays and weekends together. Lives intertwined, celebrations and sorrows shared. Each one missed Sylvia as much as he did. Her abduction tore a gaping, raw wound within the fabric of their world.

  All sound stopped, and every head swiveled toward him. Being the focus of so many werewolves would’ve unnerved a lesser man. Derek hardly noticed. In fact, he would’ve been angry if they hadn’t given him their undivided attention.

  The front foyer hosted several pack members while many more stood on the curving staircase. Eagerness and the fierce need for blood radiated from each one. These wolves considered Sylvia a daughter and a sister.

  Messing with one wolf invited the fury of the entire pack.

  “As everyone knows, the mages have found Sylvia and need our help.” His deep voice carried throughout the room. No one dared to interrupt or ask questions. He tolerated complete obedience and nothing else. “We will meet the mages at HQ, and from there, we’ll use a Fae portal.”

  Muttered voices erupted and swiftly died. Trusting the Fae and entering their realm occurred only in dire situations.

  A snicker undermined the seriousness of this meeting, and a near silent gasp echoed through the pack. Who would dare? He scanned the crowd, searching for the offender. Several members shuffled to the side. There. Derek’s lip curled as he spat out, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Same as everyone else, Alpha,” Shawn’s emphasis was meant as an insult, not a title of respect. “I heard the call to help the little wolf you lost.”

  Shawn’s sneer unleashed the fury within Derek. The other wolves, their backs to Shawn, missed the undercurrent and many shouted in surprise when their Alpha attacked. Derek barreled through the crowd, uncaring of who he hurt in his desire to pummel this smug prick. The ocean of rage drowned him, narrowing his world to this Lesser Alpha who wished to take Derek’s position as Top Alpha.

  That Shawn would dare to goad him with Sylvia’s abduction… Derek’s claws ripped through his fingertips, reacting to his anger. His hand shot out, seemingly of its own accord, aiming for the bastard’s neck. Maybe a torn throat would teach the other werewolf some manners.

  Another hand grabbed Derek’s wrist, halting his forward momentum. He checked the urge to continue forward. Not many had
the strength to match Derek. His size alone gave him an advantage over most.

  “Derek, what are you doing?” Zmitro demanded.

  “Dealing with this asshole. I’m fucking sick of his attitude.”

  Zmitro leaned in, his mouth next to Derek’s ear so only he’d hear the urgent whisper. “We talked about this. He wants to prove you’re unfit. If you’re labeled as rogue, he won’t need to challenge you in a physical fight. The Coterie will put you down. So back off.”

  You heard what he said. He’s putting the blame on me for Sylvia’s abduction. Derek used the Alpha link to send a private message to his Beta.

  “Da, I know. Just leave it for now. We have more important things to deal with, like bringing Sylvia home.”

  With a sharp nod, he pulled away from Zmitro and sheathed his lethal claws.

  Through narrowed eyes, he stared at Shawn, shoving all his hatred into the look. Soon they’d come head to head, and Derek would win. Derek’s ruthless need to protect his pack would ensure his victory. Shawn simply wanted to rule.

  Shawn broke eye contact first, a quick flick to the right before steadying his gaze on Derek again. Didn’t matter. He lost. Never glance away during an Alpha contest of wills. It showed weakness.

  “You, stay the fuck here. Don’t show up, or I will gut you for disobeying orders.” Derek turned on his heel, dismissing the lesser werewolf. “We leave now.”

  His pack separated, creating a tunnel for him through the crowd. Apprehension and a thread of fear now wove through the scent of emotions. He could almost hear their thoughts. Why had their Alpha attacked another unprovoked?

  Except it wasn’t unprovoked. Shawn had been nipping at his heels for months now. Derek had done his best to shrug off the escalating irritation, unconcerned with the other man’s game. But pulling Sylvia into it crossed the line.

  He jogged to the garage, opened the door of his sleek Jaguar and slid into the driver’s seat. Zmitro joined him, settling his large frame in the passenger seat.