by Wood, Vivian
A muffled scream sounded from somewhere nearby, the open door breaking the soundproofing seal . Tessa couldn’t tell the gender of the voice, but she went cold inside.
Her baby sister was here, in this hell. Camilla was all Tessa had, and vice versa; their parents had passed away years ago.
Somehow Tessa had managed to drag Camilla down into the mud, imprisoning her with these monsters.
A scream of rage erupted from Tessa’s throat. Then she was moving, slashing and clawing at James’s face, backing him into a corner with the ferocity of her anger. The man made no attempt to fight back or even defend himself, though he could have ended her fit of pique with a simple blow. His eyes were dark with sudden emotion, and for a fleeting moment Tessa could have sworn it was more sadness than anger.
The nurses reappeared, each grabbing one of Tessa’s arms to restrain her. James straightened. He brushed his fingers over a long scratch that Tessa had landed on his cheek, his fingers coming away red with blood.
“Attacking me isn’t going to do you any good. I’m not running the show here, Tessa. Like you, my blood is demon-tainted. I’m fit for nothing except to lure more of our kind here so that the Legion may help them. Kill me, and you’ll just get someone worse in my place,” he said. His tone was somber and sane, clashing completely with his talk about demons and legions.
Something in his nonchalance turned Tessa’s stomach to acid. She growled, but the nurses were too strong for her to resist. She’d used up her energy. She sagged against the bed as the nurses slipped a plastic restraining tie over her wrists and pressed her down onto the bed.
James stepped up to the bed, looking down at her. His disappointment was more than evident.
“This is the last time I’ll ask, Tessa. The next time, I’ll ask your sister. Have you changed your mind about cooperating?”
Tessa’s head dropped to her chest, shame and fear flooding her veins. Tears came in earnest, threatening to overwhelm her ability to speak. Fighting for a deep breath, Tessa whispered her response.
“Just tell me what you want.”
“Don’t worry about that for now. Just rest,” he replied.
James stood as if satisfied, dismissing the nurses with a wave of his hand. He stopped at her side for a moment, patting her shoulder. Tessa recoiled, flinching.
“Everything will work out, Tessa. Do everything you’re told, and you will live,” he whispered.
He turned and left, closing the door behind him. The blank white wall where the door had been gave Tessa chills.
Despite James’s assurances, Tessa was certain that her agreement was a fatal decision. She’d just signed her own death warrant, without a doubt.
Her mind spun, exhaustion and questions whirling until she felt sick. What could these lunatics want so much that they’d kidnap and kill for it? What would they do with Camilla? Was there any way to save her sister from the same fate?
A creeping sense of mortality, tangible as a clock ticking, thickened the air in Tessa’s cell until she could not breathe.
Closing her eyes, Tessa laid down as best she could with her hands still cuffed behind her back. The nurses hadn’t taken the electrodes off, and they were uncomfortable against her skin. A garbled laugh escaped her lips. She had the distinct feeling that the petty discomfort she felt now was nothing compared to what she would face in the coming days.
Tessa breathed in and out, summoning the peaceful bliss of sleep. It was the only small comfort she could give herself in whatever short amount of time she had left on the Earth.
Chapter One
“You will wait here for Monsignor Sunderland,” one of the nurses said.
Her emotionless voice echoed in the empty white hallway as gripped Tessa’s arm. They came to a halt outside of a blank white door, identical to several dozen others they’d passed on the way from Tessa’s cell. The nurse gave her a threatening look, pulling out a large ring of keys and unlocking the door. Opening it, she pushed Tessa inside a strange room and slammed the door shut, leaving Tessa alone.
Tessa blinked as she looked around. Her eyes reacted to the rich colors of the cherry desk, the green leather chairs, and the piles of dusty books everywhere. Someone’s office? Nothing like her plain, padded room. Yet she felt no more comfortable here than in that white cube of a prison cell.
At least this door has a handle on each side, Tessa thought.
Tessa ran a hand through her-washed ringlets, savoring the feeling of being clean. Even Nurse Blank Face hadn’t been able to ruin the too-quick scrub down. She’d stood just outside the shower and kept checking to make sure Tessa wasn’t up to anything crafty.
Tessa looked around the conference-style room the nurse had put her in. She tried to decide which chair was the best vantage point. Finally Tessa chose a seat next to the curtained window, desperate for a taste of the outside world. To her disappointment, when she pulled it back the curtain only revealed a bank of ambient ivory lighting. Jesus, this place was so creepy. No windows, mindless servants as staff, and this room contained the only glimpse of color she’d seen in ages.
Still, James had promised that if Tessa would help them on some kind of mission, Camilla would be safe. Or, that wasn’t it exactly. He’d inferred that if Tessa didn’t help, Camilla would die.
Not a great deal, but Tessa was willing to take what she could get at this point. And hey, she was already uncuffed and out of the cell. She was clean, and electrode-free. That had to count for something.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Tessa realized that her current good cheer was false. It might be due to severe emotional trauma, or even brain damage from the torture. But as long as Camilla was safe and Tessa wasn’t getting shocked, things were at least a little better than before. Weren’t they?
Tessa’s thoughts derailed as the door swung open. IN came James and a much older man with a slight resemblance; they had the same jaw, the same eyes. When James was in his sixties his dark locks would be the same bright silver, Tessa guessed. There was no chance the resemblance was a coincidence.
Tessa eyed the older man. If not for his expression, his simple black garments and the worry lines etched about his mouth might have marked him as a priest. The pure hatred burning in his eyes was frightening, though. His chilling dark blue eyes raked over Tessa, expression brimming with repulsion. As soon as James was inside and the door closed, the older man spoke.
“I hear you are going to help us,” he said, enunciating each word as if speaking to a mentally handicapped person.
Tessa regarded him in silence, head cocked to the side. James cleared his throat, growing tense. Looking between them, Tessa realized that James was afraid of the older man. In truth, she didn’t want to know what it took to scare someone as crazy as James.
“Well?” prompted the older man. “Do you speak, demon? Will you attempt to redeem yourself in the eyes of God?”
“I hardly think God has much to do with this place,” Tessa replied, trying to keep her voice calm. She frowned and sat up a little straighter, unable to resist a show of defiance.
“I don’t think a creature like you would know much about God,” the older man responded, taking a step toward her.
Tessa’s gaze flashed to James when he spoke up.
“You must not let her upset you, Uncle. She is not enlightened. She does not know what she says,” he said, his tone mollifying.
The older man turned to the younger, eyes narrowing.
“Novitiate James, you will address me by my proper title in the presence of a supernatural. You will also refrain from issuing orders to a superior,” the man snapped.
James bowed his head in supplication.
“Yes, Monsignor Sunderland. I apologize profoundly,” the younger man said. The words flowed from his lips with ease, as if he’d said them a thousand times before.
“You will have punishment after you finish with the demon. Seeing as how you can’t help the blood you got from your mongrel of a mother,”
Sunderland said, pausing for effect. “You can choose your own remonstrance.”
“Yes, Monsignor. Thank you.”
As James bowed, he caught Tessa’s eye and gave her look that was half threat, half plea for her to behave. Tessa dipped her head, staring down at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. Biting her lip, she steeled herself against feeling guilty.
James was the one who’d started all this in the first place. He’d sought her out at her favorite bar, plied her with drinks and conversation, and when everything started to go blurry…
Somehow she’d ended up in that eerie white padded cell. Bitterness flooded through Tessa, turning her thoughts black.
“Demon,” the older man prompted, again as if Tessa were slow. Tessa looked up at him, fighting to school her expression.
“I’m not even sure if family means anything to your kind,” the man said, sounding almost conversational.
Tessa’s brow pulled into a deep frown before she could stop herself. She bit her tongue hard to keep from responding.
“If you try to interfere in any way, or double cross us, we’ll kill your sister,” he said, his icy gaze chilling Tessa to the bone. “Do you understand?”
Tessa nodded, her stomach roiling.
“Then we’ll just find another demon to do as we ask. Your resistance would be futile,” he said. His stoicism made her all the more angry.
Tessa glanced over to James, who gave a brief nod of agreement.
Tessa dropped her gaze down to where her hands lay in her lap. That little bit of hope she’d found was fading by the minute. The older man seemed satisfied, turning to speak with the younger one.
“You will come to me after the demon is gone,” he ordered.
“Of course, Monsignor,” James said, bowing his head with deference.
The older man gave Tessa final once over, and then left the room. Tessa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, letting her body relax.
“He’s awful,” she said.
James eyed Tessa, his sharp look disapproving.
“Don’t speak of what you don’t understand,” he said, coming over and drawing up a chair across from Tessa’s.
He produced a fat white folder labeled Louisiana, handing it over to Tessa. She opened it and flipped through the pages. Stacked inside she found copies of news articles, glossy photos, and printed reports .
James leaned close, gesturing to the documents.
“I know I haven’t explained to you exactly what we do here, Tessa. You don’t even realize yet that you’re different from other people, but you are. You and I, we are both aberrations. Our bloodlines have are tainted, mixed with something unnatural,” he said.
Tessa opened her mouth, unsure how to begin her answer.
“You can’t be serious about this demon stuff,” she said, for lack of a saner argument.
“The Legion believes that anything supernatural is of demonic origin,” James said. He sounded as if he were reciting scripture.
“Who the hell is the Legion?” Tessa asked, now confused.
“The Legion is a group dedicated to the continued health and survival of human kind. We believe that all supernatural species pose a distinct threat to humans, and must die,” James explained. Once again, his words sounded rehearsed.
“You think you’re the frigging Ghostbusters?” Tessa asked, a hysterical giggle threatening to break free.
If these people were crazy enough to think there were demons walking around, Tessa and Camilla were in real trouble.
“This is serious, Tessa,” Jameson said, a soft rebuke.
“And I’m supposed to be- let me guess. A witch? A fairy?” she asked, trying to play along.
“You’re a werewolf, as am I,” Jameson said. No laughter, no smirk. He was dead serious.
“Ohhhhhh, of course! A werewolf! How fitting. Now I can finally put my journalism degree to real use. ‘Reporter Discovers Werewolves; Finds Out She Is One’. Hah!” Tessa couldn’t keep the derision out of her tone.
“You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” James said, but he didn’t explain further.
Tessa raised an eyebrow and shrugged, having no response to that. James narrowed his gaze at her before continuing.
“The Legion has identified a group of werewolves living in Louisiana just outside of New Orleans. We need to find out more about them. Their numbers, their social structures, things like that,” James explained.
“Uh… uh huh,” Tessa muttered.
Nothing she said seemed to faze James, so she might as well just agree and get out of this horrible place. Once she got out, her first action would be a call to the cops.
“The folder contains all the information we have on werewolves. It’s yours to keep and study, but you must get rid of it before you make contact with the New Orleans werewolves.”
Tessa’s head snapped up.
“Make contact?” she echoed.
“Yes,” James said. “That’s why the Legion needs you. You will make contact, infiltrate their group, and then brief us on their habits. You’ll find their lair.”
“I don’t understand. What is it that you hope to gain in all this?” Tessa asked, confused.
It must be something big if they were willing to establish a whole facility like this one. They kidnapped and tortured people. They'd done something unspeakable to those nurses...
“Your task is to gather information. We have identified some of the members of their group, as well as some of the establishments they frequent in New Orleans. The next step is finding out where they live,” James said. He pulled the folder from Tessa’s hand and flipped to the section of photographs.
The first photo was a stunning brunette, all legs and curves. She had the high cheekbones and perfect features of a supermodel. Attached was a sticky note that read Madeline Copeland. The next was a gorgeous man with deep brown eyes and tousled brown hair with just a hint of a curl. He had smooth, chiseled cheekbones and his jaw was set in a grim line that enhanced his sexy mouth. Tessa found herself staring him, taking special note of the label which read Jacques ‘Jace’ Copeland.
James cleared his throat, reminding Tessa that she wasn’t alone. She flipped through another handful of pictures, each with a drool-worthy subject and a name attached. Still, she didn't absorb any of the other photos. The first man’s image stayed with her, impossible to replace.
James was talking, but Tessa couldn’t focus. She needed to speak up, tell James that something was wrong. A simple photo shouldn’t give her chills like this, shouldn’t make her feel anything at all.
Instead, she asked a question.
“When do I leave?” she blurted out.
James gave her a faint smile and looked at his watch.
“One hour,” he announced. “So we’d better get you dressed and ready. We’ll outfit you with clothes and a cell phone, to contact me alone. We’re going to put you in a quiet little bed and breakfast for your stay in New Orleans. You can read through the folder on the way to the city.”
“Are we flying there?” Tessa asked, feeling a resurgence of nervousness.
Jameson gave her an odd look.
“Do you remember coming here at all?” he asked.
Tessa shook her head, biting her lip.
“We’re only an hour outside New Orleans right now, Tessa. You left Boston over three weeks ago,” he said, his words hesitant.
Tessa gaped, floored. How had they brought her all the way across the country without her consent? And how the hell had she been here three weeks? Sure, it was all a blur, but…
Tessa’s lower lip trembled, tears welling up in her eyes. She swiped at her eyes with the back of a shaky hand. She was in some secret facility belonging to a bunch of crazy people calling themselves The Legion. People who believed that Tessa was a werewolf. People who wanted her to go find and betray other werewolves for… information, or whatever. Crazy people.
These lunatics had trapped Tessa first, and
now they were holding Camilla hostage to make Tessa do their bidding.
The more Tessa thought about it, the more absurd it became. Everything felt unreal, baseless, impermanent. Tessa’s chest constricted until she couldn't draw a breath.
She could sense James trying to say something, shouting for help. She could feel gravity shifting as her body toppled over. Darkness swarmed in her vision, swallowing her before she hit the ground.
Chapter Two
If Jace didn’t intervene soon, the human girl was as good as dead.
Jace paused in the shade of a block-long second story balcony, one of many that defined New Orleans’ French Quarter. He waited a moment to be certain he wasn’t followed. Then he dashed across the centuries-old cobblestones and onto the opposing sidewalk.
A long line of people stood in line for a coffee shop. Perfect cover for his pursuit. Jace tucked his lean 6’4” frame into a pocket of shadow near the building’s bright orange clapboard corner. He peeked down the street where the girl had gone.
Scrubbing a hand over two days’ worth of dark stubble on his chin and cheeks, he raked his hand through his roan brown hair. He’d recently had it cropped just above his ears. It felt good to run his hand through it when he was thinking, or self-conscious.
If he had to approach the girl, she was going to take one look at his wild-man hair and his disheveled clothes and run for the hills. If she was smart, at least.
Don’t worry about what the damned human thinks. Worry about the man that’s about to abduct her, Jace reminded himself.
Jace followed after the girl. He passed endless rows of multi-storied shops and houses. Shadowed, verdant courtyards sat back from the street, guarded by massive wrought-iron fences. Every street in the French Quarter teemed with life. Tourists snapped pictures, bicyclists enjoyed the weather, black-uniformed locals headed to bartending jobs.
Unfortunately for Jace, it was a Catholic high holiday, the feast of someone or the other. The religious locals crowded around the St. Louis Cathedral. A procession of high-ranking priests entered the church as everyone watched. Such a large gathering would have been quite helpful had it not been a whole twelve blocks away. Jace didn’t have twelve blocks’ time to intercept Jasper.
