by Odessa Lynne
“We didn’t find him. That’s all that needs to be said.”
“You know that’s not all that’ll be said.”
“We have a problem here?”
“No, we don’t. But I still think you went too far with him.”
“That’s my fucking business. Now it’s time to go. We’re not going to find anything here in the fucking dark.”
“We should take him—”
A sudden gust of wind rattled the roof and drowned out the rest of whatever Sebastian was saying. Then a howl rose on the wind.
“Goddammit!” Mason turned. “Wolves.”
Jay had obviously picked up the sound too and he swung around, gun held firm. When the sound didn’t repeat, he shifted his attention to Mason.
He didn’t lower the gun.
Mason clenched his jaw.
“Shit.” Sebastian fumbled something out of his pocket. “Turn your phone off. We’re out of range of the signal blocker.”
“It’s not on,” Jay said. “Why the fuck is yours?”
Sebastian flinched but didn’t answer. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and looked at Mason. “You?”
“Don’t have one on me.”
Jay stared at Mason a moment, then gestured down the hallway. “You’ll have to draw them away.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“You’re injured and you’ve been bleeding.” His flashlight’s beam bounced off Mason’s left arm. “Your blood’s all over that jacket. If we try to get out with you along, you’ll draw them right to us.”
Mason bit off a curse. Not that he wanted to leave with Jay and Sebastian, but he didn’t want to play bait to the wolves either.
Sebastian held his hand out. Mason blinked, then glanced at Sebastian’s face.
“The pistol. Since we’re parting ways and all.”
Goddammit. Anger flared bright and hot in Mason’s chest. He yanked at the strap holding the holster to his leg. When it was free, he tossed it at Sebastian.
Sebastian caught it one-handed. He nodded. “Good luck.”
“Fuck you too.”
Sebastian just shook his head. Jay maintained his alert position, waiting.
Mason took a deep breath and walked away, back down the hallway they’d just traveled. For a few moments, he could hear Jay and Sebastian’s cautious footsteps heading in the opposite direction, but then the oppressive silence returned, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the pitter-patter of rain on the building’s roof.
He hadn’t gone far when he heard another howl, this one seeming to come from inside the building and the hair at the back of his neck prickled. A spark of fear brought adrenaline rushing to his veins and for one brief moment his vision grayed to almost nothing.
God. He shouldn’t forget how much blood he’d lost. He wouldn’t be able to run if the wolves found him—not that running was ever a good idea. But he sure as hell hated that the choice wasn’t going to be his to make.
A door loomed to the right and he took it, pushing past the entrance and deep into the old bathroom. Stalls lined the room, left and right, and although the room was pitch black, he was able to see the faint outline of every opening with the help of the binoculars.
He stripped off the jacket, careful of his injured arm, and dropped it to the floor. Whoever had been using the building had cleared the floor and gotten the water working. Of course, the water might not last because the pumps were probably tied in to a generator that was no longer running, but for the time being he had fresh water and he drank several handfuls before he turned to cleaning mud off his face and neck. The rain had washed most of it away, but not all, and his one-handed scrubbing helped clear his head.
When he was done, he kicked the jacket into the corner and left it there.
As good as it would feel to just sit down and not get back up for a week, hiding in a bathroom wasn’t going to find his brother.
* * *
Mason took his time returning to the ransacked lab, making sure every corner and corridor was clear before he risked his position. His scent would lead the wolves to him eventually, no doubt about that. Heat season had started; there was no way a wolf in heat wouldn’t recognize a human nearby. But every second he bought himself was another second he could spend searching for clues Marcus might have left behind.
The lab door had broken into a million tiny pieces of tempered glass and so had the windowed wall that stretched from the doorframe to the wall on the right. They’d all searched the room earlier and found nothing useful. Mason wanted another chance at it, this time without Jay and Sebastian watching his every move.
He started in the far corner, where a series of long tables ended next to a column of glass-fronted cabinets that had been emptied of everything they’d once held. He drew his fingers down the length of one of the tables, feeling for any hint of dust.
Nothing.
Despite the abandoned look, someone had been using this lab as recently as today.
He reached up and adjusted the thermal settings on the binoculars to their highest sensitivity. A warning flashed in front of his eyes. The new setting was going to drain the power quickly and there’d be no recharging in the dark without a power station. If he drained all the power, he’d be stuck in the near pitch black building without any way of finding his way out until daylight arrived, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
A freestanding cabinet on wheels had been pushed close to the wall. He stared at those wheels for a few seconds, considering what he saw, then moved toward it. One careful shove and he’d exposed a narrow vent set low in the wall. There were matching vents near the ceiling, just as small but to reach them he’d have to stand on a table.
He squatted in front of the low vent, pulled out his knife, and pried at the edges. The vent snapped away from the wall easily, the fasteners too brittle to hold on after all this time. Unfortunately, all he found was an empty hole and a steady draft of rain-cooled air. The ventilation system probably exited somewhere in the burned out half of the building.
He slid his knife back into the sheath in his boot but didn’t bother sliding the vent back into place, dropping it quietly to the floor beside him instead. He twisted around on his heels and tried to make sense of what he saw in the rest of the room.
Warm spots at the edges of the tables, several in a row. Hot spots along one straight stretch.
Maybe… someone had held the edge of the table for support, making his way along the surface until he reached that spot there, when he’d given in and leaned…
Mason rose and crossed the room quickly, touching the table’s edge.
Nothing.
Except…
He ran his fingers under the lip of the table and something slick smeared under his touch. He raised his fingers to his nose. One sniff and he knew what he’d found. Blood.
He followed the trail of residual heat on the table and stopped at one of the cabinets. They’d gone through them when they found the room, but in a hurry, and it was entirely possible they’d missed something.
He swung the nearest cabinet open and reached inside. He ran his fingers over every surface and into every corner, and finally, on the second shelf from the bottom, he found something.
The EP display was so thin the only way he could get hold of it was to pry it up with his fingernails. No wonder they’d missed it. He dragged the flexible screen out of the cabinet and dropped it to the table. The screen flared to life, one short burst of light, then went blank.
He needed a charging station.
The binoculars flickered another warning, more urgent than the last: Automatic Shutdown in 00:03:00.
Goddammit. Three minutes was too soon. He reached up and lowered the sensitivity as far as it would go. It’d buy him some time, but he needed to get out of this building and he needed to do it now. He quickly rolled the screen and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans at his side. The wet denim was stiff as hell, but it would create enough f
riction to hold the screen in place as he moved.
He started for the doorway, walking between two long tables, glass crunching under his boots. He was halfway there when a quiet shuffle behind him brought him up short.
His blood thundered through his veins. Somehow, someway, someone had gotten into the lab without him hearing it earlier.
The shuffle came again, closer than before, along with the faintest hint of glass cracking underfoot. The hair at the back of his neck prickled.
He turned slowly between two long tables and stared at the image before him.
Humans didn’t burn that hot and humans didn’t breathe that fast.
Humans didn’t have claws that screaked against metal and clicked against the floor with every step.
Every muscle in his body tensed for flight.
“Are you going to run?” The question came through a gentle accent, and swear to God, the wolf sounded almost hopeful.
“Don’t think that’d be a good idea, now would it?”
“I would try not to hurt you if you did. I promise.”
An abrupt, humorless laugh escaped before Mason could stop it. “Are you serious?”
“If you submit when I catch you—”
“Which you’ll do by jabbing those claws in my spine.”
The wolf raised his hand and stared a moment at his fully extended claws. “You are probably right.” A sigh carried softly through the air. “But mating is so much more thrilling when my mate forces me to prove myself. I’ll miss the challenge.”
“So I’m no challenge, huh?”
“You are human. Humans are too fragile to be a challenge. We expend so much energy holding back our mating instincts that we can’t enjoy the mating.”
Nothing about this confrontation made sense to Mason. But the wolves did have repression drugs that helped them control their reaction to human scent and kept them from succumbing to the frenzy of uncontrolled lust that had proven deadly to both human and wolf.
He asked, suspiciously, “Are you drugged?”
“At the moment. But I’ve been away from my pack too long, without my own supply. And your scent taunts me.” He took a subtle sniff of air and Mason could’ve sworn he saw a shudder pass through the wolf’s powerful body. “I tried to resist, but I couldn’t. It is… hauntingly familiar.”
At that moment, the binoculars’ display flashed another warning: Automatic Shutdown in 00:03:00.
His pulse fluttered wildly at his throat. He’d gained time—then lost it. He wouldn’t even have enough time to get out of the building, unless—
“If you want me to run, you’re going to have to give me a head start.”
The wolf dropped his arm to the table next to him and his claws raked across the surface with a metallic screak.
Mason jumped.
Shit. Shit. This was going to be impossible. He wouldn’t get away.
“You shouldn’t tempt me. I’m at the edge of my control already. I can taste your fear and it’s as intoxicating as any reigeiesteisa I’ve ever swallowed.”
The wolf had dropped into his own language, his words taking on an exotic sound that tickled at Mason’s eardrums. Like every human he knew, he’d used the wolves’ learning technology to learn the wolves’ language. He understood enough to get by and could even get out a few phrases when he had to. He hadn’t had to in a very long time.
Three years, to be exact.
Automatic Shutdown in 00:02:30.
An edge of panic started to push at his thoughts. He spoke fast. “So do we have a deal?”
“A deal?”
“I run, you give me a head start?”
The sudden rumbling from deep in the wolf’s chest raised every hair on Mason’s body.
“You want me to hunt you despite the danger to yourself?”
“Yes or no?”
“I should say no. You’re human. You don’t know what you’re risking.”
Then the wolf growled low in his chest and dropped to a crouch, his sharper-than-human eyeteeth a jagged line in the display covering Mason’s eyes.
Mason staggered back a step, heart pounding as if he were already running.
“But I won’t,” the wolf said. “Now run, so I can catch you and claim you to mate.”
Chapter 4
Mason had never run so hard in his life. His feet pounded on the debris-strewn tiles and his lungs ached with the weight of every desperate breath he took. His headlong rush for the entrance of the building left his already weakened body absolutely depleted of energy by the time he tore through the building’s abandoned lobby.
He barely missed slamming right into the algae-coated glass door.
Clouds blocked the moon but the night wasn’t as dark as it had been as the early morning hours crept toward daybreak. Mason ripped off the binoculars just as the warning flashed red and the countdown hit 00:00:00. He tossed them to the ground as he crossed the threshold.
He had no idea how long that wolf was going to give him before he started after Mason, but Mason could guarantee one thing: that wolf would outlast Mason in any chase. Mason had to get back to the utility vehicle and get the hell out of there before it was too late.
The task he needed to do for his brother would have to wait.
He heard something crash through the pines to his left and he veered off the straight path he’d planned to take back to the utility vehicle.
His legs trembled and he stumbled. Everything spiraled around him as vertigo slammed into him with all the power of a wolf on his back. He couldn’t catch his balance. His knee hit the ground and he threw out his arm to catch his fall.
Wrong arm.
He barely cut off a scream with his clenched teeth.
It took precious seconds to get his breathing under control—to stop the swimming of his head. Drizzle teased the back of his neck and the base of his spine where his shirt had ridden up. One… two… three… four…
He shoved himself up on his good arm and staggered to his feet. The dark closed in on him. The trees all looked the same.
He’d lost his bearings. He wasn’t sure which way to go. If he chose wrong, he’d be on foot—and as good as dead unless that wolf actually could control himself enough not to rip out Mason’s spine.
Shit. Shit. That knife he’d found would never save him.
His breath came in harsh gasps and his feet crunched through the dead and dying leaves. He thrust aside a thick limb with his right forearm, holding his injured arm tight to his chest.
Where the hell was the goddamned utility vehicle? Had he gone past it?
He could feel that fucking wolf breathing down his neck as he searched desperately for a vehicle that should be right there but wasn’t.
“Goddammit!”
They’d taken it. That goddamned Jay and Sebastian had taken it and left him here as the distraction so they could get away—he should’ve realized what they’d do the moment they decided to use him as bait for the wolves, but he’d been too distracted by the search for his brother, too worried about what he was supposed to do to stop something he didn’t even understand.
He didn’t have time to stand around and curse so he picked a direction and ran until he couldn’t take another damn step. Then he stopped and bent double, one hand on his knee, head hanging. Standing upright was better for his lungs but his muscles burned and his head spun and—
His knees gave out and he dropped to his ass on the cold, wet ground. Son of a bitch but he was almost at the end of his rope.
He struggled to listen over the harsh sound of his own breathing. Rain dripped from the leaves with every rustle of wind and the night felt as deep and dark as a cave even though daybreak couldn’t be more than a couple hours away, if that.
Somewhere in the distance, the thrash and rattle of leaves grew louder. Mason concentrated on that sound, then jerked as he realized something was definitely headed in his direction. He rose to a crouch, but had to stop before he’d reached his feet because of h
is swimming head. He dropped back the ground with a quiet “umph.”
Fuck it. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not this time.
He’d had one chance and that had been the utility vehicle. Without it, running would just inflame the wolf further and leave Mason in dire straits.
He eyed the shadow of the tree across from him. He scooted around until he could rest against its broad trunk and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. He eased his injured arm down across his stomach, hissing through his teeth until he’d settled comfortably.
He leaned his head back against the rough bark and closed his eyes.
The wind shifted. A shiver raised gooseflesh on his arms and he tucked his good arm across his chest and held onto his shoulder, trying to conserve what warmth he could while soaked to the bone from the rain. He clenched his teeth against the chill breeze and thought it might not be so bad to end up under a lust-crazed wolf.
As hot as the wolves ran, at least he’d be warm.
Maybe it was the blood loss or the simple fact that he’d found himself in this situation after a morning so ordinary and dull he’d been ready to stick a pitchfork in his foot for a little excitement, but he laughed, hard.
What a damn mess Marcus had made for him.
His laugh turned to something else and he choked it back with every ounce of control he had left. Goddamned feelings. If he could burn them to the ground, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He didn’t have time for that shit.
If I can’t stop them, you have to, you hear me?
He didn’t want to believe Marcus was dead, and he had no definitive proof that he was, but if Marcus wasn’t dead, where was he? How the fuck was Mason supposed to find him?
And what had he meant when he said they’re going to burn down the whole goddamned world?
Marcus hadn’t explained enough of what was going on to make things easy for Mason, that was for damn sure. Get there before dawn. They’re moving the weapon. I’m going to try to stop them, but it’s going to be tricky. They’ve got six men on it and one of them’s that tough motherfucker who used to live on Smith Road. Remember him? A goddamned sociopath if you ask me.
