Huntress Bound (Wolf Legacy Book 2)

by Aimee Easterling

  Human blood. Even if I hadn’t scouted out the compound previously, it would have been easy to discover the hidden bunker that Sebastien had told us about with that nastiness clinging to our nostrils. Because the aroma of iron now filled the air so strongly that I ended up shaking my head from side to side, attempting to dislodge the sure knowledge that came to me along with the smell.

  No. Despite having come prepared with a bomb, I couldn’t quite believe Dakota considered every human within this base expendable. Whatever information Mr. Shepard possessed about werewolf nature, the average soldier was merely an innocent bystander doing his or her job. They didn’t deserve to be killed.

  But when I achieved the building that matched Sebastien’s description, the evidence of Dakota’s dastardliness became unfortunately evident. Sticky droplets coated the pavement before me, as if wolf teeth or human knife had ripped through a struggling soldier’s throat. Meanwhile, the scents of terror, aggression, and pain hung heavy on the damp night air.

  The aromas were only minutes old, a quarter of an hour at the most. And I shivered, realizing that my wolf had been right all along. While I’d battled with an imprisoning anklet, trying to decide whether breaking shifter law was worth the risk to myself and my mate, Dakota had ruthlessly mown down everyone in her path.

  She’d killed innocents and it was my own damn fault. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, though. There would be no further delay.

  We need to shift, I told my wolf, tallying up how many transformations we’d already forced ourselves through since our last sleep. My animal half and I made a strong pair, but I knew we were close to our limit, maybe already past it. Still, there was no way I could turn the knob with furry lupine paws. And I needed to discover what was on the other side of that barrier ASAP.

  Yes, my wolf agreed, helping me regain humanity with a teeth-grinding effort of will that sapped our already failing reserves. The air was cooler against my furless skin, human eyesight less suited to the gloom as I pushed open the thick metal barrier. It was a fire door, intended to protect the contents from danger while also hinting at the importance of the items contained within.

  The door hadn’t saved the lives of its guardians, however. Instead, the pair lay in a jumbled heap just inside the building, arms and legs pushed aside so they didn’t entirely block the downward-facing stairs. One form was as large as my cousin. The other even shorter than myself.

  A woman. I wasn’t sure why the realization hit me so hard, like a punch to the solar plexus. Maybe because this soldier could have been the same one from whom I’d stolen a uniform earlier in the evening. Or maybe just because I knew how carefully the humans protected their supposedly weaker sex.

  Whatever the reason, I closed the door behind me to shut off all prying eyes. Then, reaching blindly into the darkness, I picked up the dead soldier’s discarded gun.

  “SO THE HUMAN WASN’T your mate after all,” Dakota said companionably as I picked my way downstairs toward blue-tinted light. Her voice drew me through an antechamber and into a broad room where banks of monitors and the hum of processors filled the air. The rest of the compound might be technology-free, but this command center more than made up for that lack.

  For her part, Dakota’s attention remained focused upon the three monitors arrayed across her borrowed desk. But I could smell interest in the air and my companion’s smugness coated the inside of my throat like slime.

  Meanwhile, Dakota’s words, as intended, burrowed into my conscience and bit. “I’m going back for Sebastien as soon as you and I come to an agreement,” I told her, knowing even as I spoke that I had left my mate unprotected in the face of enemy wolves. And, yes, the desertion had been intended to save him and the wider human community from harm. But what did that mean about my own commitment to Sebastien? Was our tether indicative of a true mating...or was it, as my cousin had once suggested, merely the half-baked grasping of a packless wolf?

  As if mimicking my own internal dialogue, Dakota punched a few final keys before spinning the chair around to face me at last. “A wolf doesn’t leave her mate in danger,” she countered, punctuating the truism with a smug smirk before swiveling back around to run busy fingers across a clacking keyboard once again.

  In response, my wolf cut right to the chase. Shoot her, the beast suggested coldly. My animal half was unconcerned with human second-guessing, didn’t care what Dakota’s motives were for tricking and teasing and killing. Over the last half hour, the female had transitioned from unlikely ally to blooded enemy, leaving our mate stuck in the crosshairs. My wolf was prepared to do whatever it took to even out the odds.

  Despite my human hesitancy, I found furless arms rising, the butt of the rifle coming to rest firmly against my right shoulder. The little lever beside the trigger must be the safety I reasoned even as I flicked it off. I’d never discharged a firearm before, but how hard could it really be? Surely the weapon was the origin of the term “point and shoot.”

  “That’s bad gun safety, you know,” Dakota said mildly, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection from the broad monitor. In her shoes, I would have been petrified, but the other female’s scent remained complacent and relaxed. “You should never place your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire,” she lectured. “Don’t point the barrel at a living thing unless you intend that being to die.”

  Yes, kill her, my wolf agreed, pushing me a step further into the room. Our arms were unwavering, the barrel of the rifle now lying only five feet away from our enemy’s unprotected back. From this distance, even a child could have pierced the female’s heart, or at least her lungs. As long as the bullet went through Dakota’s center of mass, it wouldn’t take long for her to bleed out.

  The idea of enemy blood meeting the air made my inner wolf lick her chops and growl quietly in satisfaction. But even though the beast was quite literally bloodthirsty, we were currently walking on two human feet...which meant I was in charge. And my human brain wasn’t willing to spill blood of a sentient being, no matter what crimes we suspected could be laid at her door.

  Plus, there were questions I needed answered before I could make another move. “Is there information on there about werewolves?” I asked, letting Dakota think she’d won this round by lowering the rifle barrel to point at the floor. With lupine reflexes, I could still raise the weapon and fire before my opponent was capable of leaving her chair. For now, it was better to be considered weak.

  Sure enough, the reflection of Dakota’s left eyebrow rose while her lips spread into a complacent smirk. “Does it really matter what anyone knows if I wipe data off hard drives and human brains too?” she answered rhetorically.

  Of course it matters, I thought, the information about my brother’s whereabouts nearly tangible as digital data slipped into the void sight unseen. Despite my best intentions to keep my cool, I took a single step forward, aching to draw the deleted information back. But then something else caught my attention and stilled my steps.

  The color of the words scrolling across the screen was surprisingly familiar. Green text on an orange background. I’d recognize my father’s trademark anywhere.

  Because whenever Wolfie hacked into a server—either for his job as a security analyst or merely for fun—he liked to change the visuals first. “Easier to hunt that way,” he’d told me once.

  So Wolfie had supplied the program that was currently wiping away all information about my brother and any other werewolves who might have stumbled onto Mr. Shepard’s radar. Was that why Dakota had hesitated rather than ripping out my throat as she clearly craved to do the instant she’d walked into Sebastien’s cell? Had Wolfie traded technical assistance in exchange for amnesty for his only daughter...then backed up that deal with a threat strong enough to keep even Dakota’s more murderous urges in check?

  Unfortunately, that issue would have to be unpacked later. Because Dakota glanced toward the edge of the desk as I drew close enough to feel her body heat flickering against
my exposed skin. And as my gaze followed toward an item that had formerly been hidden from view, breath caught in my throat in an audible gasp.

  The device perched on the edge of the wooden surface was an innocuous timer. Not so different from the ones I used to make sure baked goods came out perfectly cooked rather than doughy in the middle time after time.

  But, in this case, the countdown screen was attached to a thin wire that led to the floor, across the room, and into a crawl space I hadn’t even noticed when I first came in.

  Dakota hadn’t been rational and wiped SHRITA’s server before planting her bomb. She’d ensured total devastation first. And in seven minutes and twenty-two seconds, every wolf and human on this compound would go up in a puff of oily smoke.

  Chapter 27

  “Ah, perfect,” Dakota murmured, slipping Wolfie’s thumb drive out of the slot as all three screens went abruptly dark. Her work as enforcer was now complete. She’d guaranteed no digital evidence of werewolves existed on the SHRITA hard drives and had similarly ensured human brains would be wiped just as thoroughly by her ticking bomb. All that was left was to make her own escape.

  Or so I thought. But rather than hopping to her feet and taking the easy path out of the underground bunker, Dakota merely swiveled around to face me and leaned back into the padded office chair as if relaxing after a hard day’s work. “Now to deal with you,” she intoned.

  In reaction, my gaze dropped to the thumb drive still resting in the other female’s open hand, and Dakota rolled her eyes in response to my unspoken question. “Yes, Daddy Dearest made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—your life in exchange for his technical know-how. But Wolf Young isn’t the boss of me and he isn’t here now.”

  My opponent stopped speaking long enough to rise to her feet, and this time she allowed me to see the wolf that hid so easily behind her human eyes. Her inner beast was nothing like mine, I realized hours too late. It didn’t listen to human logic, didn’t allow itself to be governed by a rational human brain. Instead, the beast forced the woman in front of me to lick her lips as if savoring the upcoming taste of blood, then she continued speaking while stalking a tight circle around my tense form like a cat playing with a quivering mouse.

  “My real boss gave strict instructions that I intend to carry out,” she continued. “He said Malachi had begged his indulgence to remit your kill order for a short time. But at dawn, I can—and should—tear out your heart and rip you limb from limb.”

  Despite Dakota’s explicit threats, I found myself losing interest in her babbling and focusing instead upon an issue that was far more incendiary...quite literally. Defusing the bomb had to be highest priority. Unfortunately, I was a baker, not a bomb tech and couldn’t think up a single way to save the humans residing on this base from total devastation.

  Even assuming I traced the wire into the crawl space and discovered the explosives in a timely manner, I wouldn’t have a clue how to prevent a premature detonation. All I could think of was kitchen safety 101—sodium bicarbonate smothers a fire. I wasn’t about to risk dozens of humans’ lives to my vague memories from chemistry class.

  “Are you ignoring me?” Dakota asked then, her sharp voice cutting through my hamster-wheel thoughts with ease. She reached forward to grip my chin in one hard hand, swiveling my neck around until our eyes were forced to meet at last.

  “I’ll say this sloooowly so you have time to catch up,” the other female continued, both woman and wolf smirking with equal abandon within her two-legged skin. “Malachi is my friend, and you’ve risked his life. Which means you have to die.”

  Dakota squeezed harder, like an overly affectionate aunt, then released my flesh as she freed up fingers for air quotes. “But your ‘mate’ might survive. That’s up to you. Waste the time you have left attempting to break your pet out of his prison and maybe my pack will overlook what the male has seen. Maybe we’ll let him go while tearing your body to teeny, tiny shreds.”

  My opponent stalked past me then without bothering to acknowledge the gun that could have easily taken her life. She knew I wasn’t one to shoot first and ask questions later—I’d already proven that weakness quite abundantly for both of our sakes.

  Only after starting up the stairs did she pause and glance back over one shoulder. “Then again,” my opponent added with a maddening smile, “maybe we’ll kill your pet human too.”

  Shoot her, my wolf growled. And my inner beast was probably right. But as Dakota disappeared into the darkness and the door clicked open then shut at the top of the stairs, I allowed the rifle to remain at my side rather than raising it back up to rest against my shoulder.

  Because I couldn’t descend to Dakota’s level. I’d think of a way to release Sebastien and evacuate the base before the bomb went off. And I’d do it all without a single lost life weighing down my already damaged soul. I simply had to.

  I GLANCED ONCE AT THE timer, seeing that the count had already tipped over from seven minutes down into the sixes. The leeway might to be sufficient to do what needed to be done...assuming I worked fast.

  Rather than taking to my heels immediately, though, I closed my eyes and yanked as hard as I could on my mate tether. The invisible rope was awkward and ungainly in my grip, acted like nothing so much as an octopus arm with a mind of its own and no reason to do my bidding. It flopped and flapped and I had no clue if Sebastien had felt my tug on the other end of the line. Still, I’d tried.

  Then I let my inner animal have her head. On bare human feet, we followed Dakota up past the jumble of bodies at the head of the stairs. Apologizing silently to the dead soldiers, I brushed past them just as their killer had then shoved against the fire door, half expecting the barrier to be jammed shut from the outside. Instead, it opened easily beneath human fingertips, allowing me to step out into darkness so profound I wasted several seconds regaining my bearings.

  The base’s electricity was out. Oh, the electrons were still flowing down in the underground command center I’d recently left behind—I wouldn’t be surprised if that spot was wired onto a separate circuit, perhaps powered by a generator that was entirely separate from the network fueling the rest of the base. Dakota must have managed to tap into the main breaker, though, while setting bombs and wiping hard drives. The only question was—did lack of illumination up here also mean the electrified fence encircling the entire compound had turned into no more than a simple physical barrier? Would Dakota’s wolves be on their way inside?

  Shelving that thought for later perusal, I tugged at my own inner beast, hoping for lupine assistance while navigating territory that looked significantly different without the benefit of overhead lights. On the plus side, my inner beast was more than willing to join me. Unfortunately, our body had reached its transitional limit and refused to respond to either of our efforts to don wolf skin and paws. No fur sprouted despite both human and lupine urging, and even our shared eyes stubbornly refused to shift enough so I could see in the near-total darkness.

  Meanwhile, one street over, pounding feet raced across distant pavement. A shout, a single bullet fired, then nothing.

  I caught my breath at the abrupt cessation of sound. It was a good sign that soldiers were awake and moving, I reasoned. After all, there were only five and a half minutes left in which to evacuate the premises. But despite the rifle slung cold and hard across one shoulder, I couldn’t help wincing at the minor explosion of sound.

  Humans with guns? Did I really think I could sway these alien beings to my point of view in the few short moments we had remaining?

  My wolf was both more single-minded and less worried about the possibility of failure. Ignoring human trepidation, she picked up the trailing mate tether between sharp lupine teeth and began pulling us down the street and around the corner in Sebastien’s direction. Because my manipulation of the bond a moment earlier had done that much at least—the gesture had provided a clear indication of our intended destination even if my human mate hadn’t been alerted in an
y way to the current danger.

  The going, unfortunately, was even slower than it had been in the opposite direction. With moon and human lights both absent, my wolf stubbed our toes multiple times against irregularities of the pavement, even walking us directly into a lamppost at one point. Nonetheless, forward momentum was relatively sure with an immaterial wolf in charge of the reins. Gradually, our progress helped ease the pounding of my adrenaline-fueled heart.

  Then we rounded a second bend and saw light materializing out of the darkness. A cluster of soldiers outfitted with headlamps marched toward us, guns at the ready and torsos bulky with body armor. “Bogey,” one barked, rifle rising to catch me directly in its sights.

  My wolf wanted to flee but I instead froze, hands instinctively lifting away from my own gun and settling with palms out on either side of my unprotected head. There was no way I’d have time to explain what was happening, I knew, and these soldiers would be crazy to trust me even if tried. Still, I couldn’t just let them march to their deaths....

  “There’s a bomb,” I called across the intervening space. “We have five minutes left to evacuate the entire base.”

  Meanwhile, beneath our skin, my wolf growled. Mate, she whispered. Close, she added.

  And the wolf was right. Because a very welcome but entirely unexpected figure pushed through the ranks, stepping directly in front of the soldier’s rifle barrel.

  Sebastien’s headlamp shone into my eyes and made it impossible to look him in the face. But I recognized his shape anyway. Recognized his constantly changing aroma, rich chocolate one moment and bitter almonds the next. Recognized his easy warmth and the way our mate bond snugged up tight between us like a hello kiss.

  “This is my informant,” Sebastien intoned, his words as firm and impossible to ignore as any alpha command. “And you heard her. Pull out your radio, call in the other units, and get moving. I want everyone outside that fence in sixty seconds flat.”