Nightshatter

by L. E. Horn

  “And if the recruiters find it on me, I’m sunk,” I pointed out. “Whoever is behind this isn’t stupid. Trying to get someone inside is a logical move, although the virus is an obvious deterrent. They’ll be on their guard for wulfan with trackers.”

  “No way someone would risk infection with the virus,” he agreed.

  “They’d expect you to pull the plant before that happens.” As the words left me, Sam’s presence asserted itself. A gentle push. I waffled, uncertain, but she pushed again, and I sighed. “Once I’m in, talk to Sam.”

  I wasn’t sure he’d get the reference, but his gold-hued eyes bored into me, piercing in their intensity as he stepped into my space. “What have you done?”

  I met him, stare for stare, and I let a burst of anger through my mental walls. “No one does anything to Sam. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.”

  Jason absorbed my anger and weighed my words. He blinked before answering. “If I didn’t know Sam like I do, I’d haul your smelly ass in.”

  “You could try.” The words rolled out without conscious thought. Did the wulf exert control over such things? Heart racing, I kept my face noncommittal. If I were in his shoes, I’d smack me good for jeopardizing Sam, even if it weren’t my fault. I braced myself for an attack, watching his eyes blaze at me, acknowledging the challenge in my words, if not my demeanor.

  But Jason wasn’t just alpha, he was top enforcer, and he had a brain. He issued a snort that would’ve made a horse proud, before one corner of his lips twitched upward. “I’m not the one with balls. Okay, Liam. I’ll let you lead. But try not to get yourself killed, okay? I’ve a soft spot for Sam and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  I nodded. “It’s a deal.”

  He frowned. “One other thing. I can keep my enforcers chasing their tails for only so long. Eventually, the board will lose patience with my efforts. Right now, it’s a find-and-restrain order. But soon, they’ll issue a clear directive to take you out. Whatever you’re going to do, make it quick.”

  Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked off down the street.

  I melted into the trees, following the current of the mighty Red until I reached the Alexander Docks, where I sat on the riverbank until the first rays of dawn knifed across the sky. I thought of Peter and how I’d last seen him, his wulfan form crumpled beneath a blanket; of Josh, who held Chris’s heart and threatened to take them both down with this virus; of Garrett, who’d nearly been killed by a mutant; of poor Chloe, who may have been an innocent victim; of Dillon, who’d no idea what he’d signed up for; and lastly, of Sam, now safely back at Chris’s place but tied by her actions to whatever fate awaited me.

  Thoughts of her brought her to me, her presence so real I felt the heat of her, the softness of her skin, her heady scent. A warmth that penetrated every pore, a stroke of pure sensation that left me trembling in its wake.

  Damn it, Sam. Despite the rage that twisted me up inside, I couldn’t deny it. She was a piece of me, my heart, my soul.

  I rose on shaking legs. I had work to do.

  * * *

  I spent the day wandering the streets. I’d just finished having breakfast at the Siloam Mission when Sam tried to contact me. My angry reaction was automatic. I shoved her out of my head. I sensed her retreat. An hour later, while I walked along Princess Avenue, she tried again. This time she attempted a sneak attack, pushing into my mind with determination. It almost took my feet out from under me, and I leaned against a wall, closed my eyes, and evicted her with some force. A man with a briefcase under one arm walked past and shot me a dirty look, no doubt thinking me drunk.

  Sam fought me this time, but with a final surge of angry frustration, she gave up. I drifted among the back alleys and cracked pavement for hours without any further attempts.

  Night found me back under the Salter Street Bridge. The air had bite as the sun dropped, and I pulled my hoodie tighter across my chest, curling into myself, hugging my knees. I looked across the expansive rail yard and noted an entire line of shiny new cars encased in horizontal bands of protective steel. My eyes traced the sculpted lines of a deep-blue SUV. If I get through all this, I’ll need a new truck.

  The cold concrete against my back penetrated the down vest I wore, and I shivered beneath a pang of longing for my old life, for Sam, and for Keen, who must wonder what had happened to me. I replayed the events at the hotel room. I should have guessed Sam would try something to force the situation between us. A large part of my anger was guilt.

  I watched Noah as he held court with his groupies. He’d no doubt taken note of my arrival, just as I was sure he’d noted my absence the night before. It didn’t surprise me when Danny hiked up my way, struggling to hide his uncertainty with deliberate, slow movements. I’d thought he was old enough to age out of the foster system, but had he left voluntarily for the streets?

  Beneath the thin veneer of wariness, the kid possessed an endearing earnestness. It sickened me that the wulfan used that appeal to case out new arrivals. If I’d been serious on our first encounter, Danny could well be dead.

  He hunkered down close, but not too close. This kid would work well with animals. Left to his own devices, he had a calm energy and an instinct for when to push and when to leave well enough alone.

  Keen would love him. I sighed.

  “You weren’t here last night.”

  Okay, so he also had a penchant for stating the obvious.

  “Nope.” I said. “Tried someplace different. Didn’t like it.”

  “Thought you’d moved on.”

  “Nowhere to move on to.” I eyed him. “Did you have a good time at the Forks?”

  He grimaced. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Again, I got the impression that Keith had been up to something not entirely legal at the market. Did Danny participate or just go along for the ride? I sensed eyes on me and glanced toward the fire, where Keith sat on an old railway tie. I felt the laser glare from thirty feet away.

  I let my gaze drift away.

  “Do you ever think about doing something different?” Danny asked.

  “Different, how?”

  “Like, getting off the streets.”

  Bingo. But I stayed in character. I snorted. “I’m where I belong.”

  His green eyes bored into me, and I glimpsed the man he might be, if Fate allowed it. “No one belongs here,” he growled, and I regarded him with surprise. “It’s better than where I lived before. But I’m not planning on staying here any longer than I have to.”

  “You have plans?”

  “Yeah.” He eyed me, his expression serious. “Why’d you say you belong here?”

  I looked away from him. “Got my reasons.”

  “You’ve lived, some, anyway.”

  I wasn’t old, but I did feel it at the moment. “I lived. Now that’s over.”

  The green eyes narrowed. “You screwed up. Or think you did.”

  Hmm. He sensed undercurrents that had nothing to do with me being on the street. With his intuition, this kid could have gone somewhere, if given half a chance. Noah had no doubt lost little time capitalizing on Danny’s natural ability to read people. My stomach twisted, providing additional impetus behind my words. “I know I screwed up.”

  He detected the ring of truth and his dark brows lifted. “Well, everyone deserves a second go at it,” he said, as he stood. “Noah could give you that. Think about it.” Without waiting for an answer, he picked his way down the concrete slope.

  I watched him go. The kid had a good heart. Unfortunately, he’d linked his future to someone who might get him killed. And if I wanted to achieve my goal, I had to sit back and watch him do it.

  11

  The night settled into the peace of the early morning hours, people dispersing into the shadows or laying down near the fire. Dozing, I became aware that the wulfan had detached himself from the sleeping group and sidled my way, his gait slow as he climbed the concrete to where I sat.

  My pul
se increased, watching him come. I hoped he’d make me an offer to go with him, and that it would happen soon. Jason could hold the board off for only so long before they forced him to intensify his efforts.

  Noah crouched a few feet away and met my eyes. I looked back at him, unblinking.

  “How long are you planning to stay?” he asked, as though he were running a hotel, not hiding under a bridge. He had an accent I couldn’t place. If English wasn’t his first language, it might explain how precisely he spoke.

  I shrugged. “Nowhere else to be.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You telling me to move on?”

  The wulfan examined me with his penetrating gaze. I sat quiet, letting him make his own assessment but not breaking eye contact.

  Finally, he gave a short nod. “I’m making you an offer.”

  I snorted. “The last thing I need is to have cops on my back. I’m better off where I am.”

  “It isn’t illegal.”

  I shifted my position, crossing my arms on my knees. “Need more than that.”

  “I know someone who’s putting together a private security force. They’ll train you, and provide three squares a day, a warm place to sleep, with pay.”

  “Security?” I regarded him with skepticism. “Recruiting from the streets?”

  His gaze drifted away, over the group huddled around the fire. “Where else can you find groups of young people desperate enough to leave their lives behind and start something new? We want people without connections, so they can forge their own within the organization.”

  “Or willing guinea pigs,” I said, taking a chance. “Who cares if we go missing?” I held my breath, waiting for his response.

  He huffed a laugh. “Yes, well, there is that. Their training program is unique. Guaranteed to make you into something more than what you already are. So long as you’re strong enough.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  Noah eyed me. “Somehow I believe you have what it takes. The streets either finish you or make you stronger. Think about it. If you’re interested, there’s a group leaving tomorrow. Be here, just past midnight.”

  I nodded and watched him return to the people around the fire. One more night. I let my head fall onto my knees and closed my eyes, shelving my anger and preparing to mend a bridge with a certain fiery enforcer, at least for long enough to transfer the information. I had no idea how to forge the connection, but I focused, reaching with groping mental fingers. My attempt at contact ebbed and flowed like the tide. But I called on memories of her body’s warmth and the scent of her skin, the physical reality of the woman now a part of me. Somehow that took me to Sam on a plane of existence that my scientific brain struggled to grasp.

  Her mental presence was as distinctive as the physical, carrying an exuberance of energy and spirit. And anger. She was still unimpressed with me, and the burst of pure resentment she sent my way made me wince.

  I didn’t apologize for my earlier actions, but I kept my own anger restrained as I raised my head above my knees and cautiously opened my eyes. I knew from the subtle details I was seeing that they’d changed, and the wulf showed her Noah and the group of young people around him.

  Tomorrow. The swift stab of fear indicated that she’d understood. She made a grab for a deeper connection, but I held her back, not willing to forgive her, not yet. I loved her, but she’d crossed a line in that hotel room. I sensed hesitation, followed by more resentment. No way she was going to apologize for doing something that might save my life.

  She pulled back, as though she were going to leave me, then without warning she unleashed a tsunami of emotion that shattered my inexperienced walls like they were made of glass. Before I could react, I was swept up in a wild surge of love and lust and longing. Flashes of sensation, as though she ran fingers down my body, triggering memories of the soft curves and silk-wrapped steel that was so Sam, all engulfed in her distinctive scent. My wulf rose, clawing my resolve to pieces from within. She existed only in my mind, but the combination of my wulf and her powerful mental presence shredded my control, I couldn’t fight. I shook, my breath coming in gasps as electric fire raced along every nerve, and my claws stung as they emerged from my fingers. I lowered my head against my arms, tucked in my hands, and let the wave carry me. Well hidden up in the shadows, I hoped others wouldn’t see me reacting to something invisible, yet so powerful. I clenched my jaw as the fangs burst free and groaned as the fire pooled within, ratcheted every part of me to rock, and erupted into flame.

  I stayed curled in on myself, panting, as the white fire faded from my brain, my heart slowed, and I pushed the wulf back where he belonged. The experience should have drained me, but instead I felt as though molten steel had been poured into my core, flooding me with strength and a renewed sense of purpose. Our connection, so new and raw, trembled, and I sensed her awe at its unexpected power.

  My anger rose, and I sent an emotive equivalent of What the hell? Unrepentant, she insisted stronger, and I realized that this connection was something that had to be cultivated to continue to exist. It helped me deal with the resentment. There was no point in Sam sacrificing herself if I was going to refuse the gift she’d given me.

  She sensed the change in me and sent a burst of concern she’d gone too far and left me vulnerable to my surroundings. I felt reassured, even as I contemplated the booze bath I’d have to take to mask the scent of wulf.

  With a final mental caress, she ghosted away. I wiped the blood off my lips, sighed, and pulled out a paper bag from beneath my vest. Tomorrow, I would join the recruits. Tonight, my body had a date with a bottle of rum.

  * * *

  When I wandered the streets the next day, I kept my hood up and shoulders slumped, afraid that the energy sparkling within me would reveal itself to the world. I understood now why the bond between mates linked wulfan for life. Even in its infancy, this was a merging of spirit and soul, as terrifying as it was transcending. I had lived long enough to know the cosmic balance never missed; together with the potential to soar came the threat of disintegration. Did matebonds ever go wrong? What happened if they did?

  I decided to eat breakfast at the Siloam Mission, but the moment I hit Henry Street, all the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Drifting along in the wake of those gathering for food, my eyes scanned the surroundings. About half a block out from the front door, I saw him.

  Enforcer, without a doubt, standing in the recessed doorway just down from the mission.

  I wasn’t close enough to appear obvious as I redirected through the rear parking lot, emerging on Princess Avenue. I turned south, walked about a hundred yards, and spotted a figure waiting at the bus stop at the corner of Logan and Princess. Tall, broad shouldered, and standing with an unmistakable confidence.

  Dammit. My time had run out. How had they found me? I walked around the corner of a building and leaned against the wall.

  I reached for Sam, and suddenly I was looking through her eyes. She was in Josh’s garden with Keen. She linked with me, and I casually peeked around the corner, giving her an eyeful of enforcer manliness standing at a bus stop.

  Her reaction was immediate—get the hell out of there. I had an impression of her thumbs busy on her phone as I disconnected.

  I didn’t think they’d zeroed in on me yet. There were enough homeless around in the mornings that I blended. But I turned my back to him, headed up Logan and hugged the buildings. Ducking into the next alleyway, I shed my vest and turned my hoodie inside out, revealing the pale-gray inner fleece rather than the navy outer. I considered attempting to modify my face, but without a mirror, it would be too risky and might drain me of energy right when I needed it most.

  I pulled up my hood as I emerged from the alley and cut straight across Logan and through the lanes and parking lots between it and Alexander Avenue. Unless the board had recruited enforcers from other provinces, I would be dealing at most with nine, more likely eight. With Jason on our side, the board wouldn’t know about my bond w
ith Sam, but they must consider her compromised, and likely put Chris in that category as well. But eight enforcers looking for me were more than enough. My best bet was to head south, away from the more common homeless haunts. So I worked my way toward the city center, taking alleyways that ran parallel to Princess, until I was forced back to it at Josh Avenue. I emerged onto the larger thoroughfare with caution, aware of the glances of well-dressed people on their way to work and students hurrying to classes.

  Winnipeg’s Exchange District, a national historic site, covered more than twenty blocks, preserving one hundred and fifty buildings of early twentieth-century commercial infrastructure. Most buildings featured a limestone foundation with ornate facades, including columns and spires, in among terra-cotta skyscrapers—six to twelve stories—considered tall for the era. Painted on the exposed sidewalls of many were billboards, their lead content preserving history for over one hundred years.

  I was now within long spitting distance of the heart of Winnipeg’s government, with City Hall, the Civic Administration Complex, and Fire and Paramedic Services all existing in the next few blocks. Red River College also possessed significant real estate in this area, as was evident by the number of young people balancing coffee containers while texting. Although I wasn’t the only homeless person, my appearance—and my smell—earned me both a wide berth and faces wrinkled in distaste.

  Sam came back with a rush of images: A group of men around a table. The board. A muscular stranger, standing in my suite, with articles of clothing in his hand. I puzzled on that until she sent an image of wulves prowling the dark alleys, noses to the ground. And obviously, one had picked something up.

  Dammit. If there were board members affiliated with this recruiting organization, they might well be worried about me prowling in their feedlot. But why hadn’t Jason warned us? Were some on the board no longer trusting him to get the job done? They couldn’t know I’d volunteer for recruitment, and I looked nothing like my usual self. But visuals weren’t the only weapon in the enforcer arsenal.