Caleb entered and the irritating smell of chemicals hit his sensitive nose. Wrinkling his nose slightly, he stared over at Peter who was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands whilst a petit white-haired woman whispered to him. Caleb’s back instantly straightened as he noticed Mary Kael. Mary turned her glare on to him and stormed over. “How can you keep her down here?” she bellowed up at him.
“I believe that that is my business, and you know you shouldn’t be down here,” Caleb stated back trying to use the power that came with his Alpha status. Unfortunately for him, although Mary was human, she had brought him up since he was three. To her, he was nothing more than a child who needed to be reprimanded most of the time. Mary crossed her arms and tapped her foot. At five-foot-three, she had nothing in her height to intimidate the men of the Pack who all stood over six-foot, but as soon as her foot tapped, they bent to her will. Swallowing hard Caleb looked over at Peter, “Has she shown any signs of waking up?” he asked.
“The wounds have all but healed, but other than that there is no different in her pulse,” Peter said standing up. Mary audibly tutted in response to her question being ignored. “I’ll give her a few more hours, before I check on her again later” Peter added before heading towards the door.
“All that girl needs is a decent sleep, and she would get that in a bed upstairs,” Mary added glaring at both men.
“She stays down here until she wakes,” Caleb pushed looking back at Mary.
“Oh no, she doesn’t. A human girl cannot stay down here. She needs hospital care,” Mary stated.
“She isn’t human, Mary” Caleb stated back, “She’s one of us”.
Mary’s eyes widened as she looked back at the girl. The blonde haired, pale girl that looked all too small and weak to be anything other than human. Mary looked the woman over once more. She took in the bandages covering both arms, the bruises covering the woman’s face, and the patch on the right side of her stomach. The t-shirt had been pulled up enough to reveal an array of scars along her stomach. “She’s….” Mary stumbled over the idea, “But I was told you were all male”.
“Until fifty years ago they were just as common,” Caleb mused. He hadn’t added why or how, because it didn’t matter now. Not now there was a key to bringing females back. Mary merely stared at him. No one had informed her of their history, she had just accepted them without explanation. “Oh, okay,” she said before looking back at Caleb. Her eyes stayed on his face for a moment. A mother’s worried glance. “I’m going to see what Edmund is getting up to in the garden,” she excused herself.
Caleb sat down by the woman’s bed, watching for indication of life. Her breathing was steady but slow. Her heart beat never quickened to show she was waking up. Her body lay still.
Hours passed and he was still sitting in the chair, his eyes focused on the bite. His mind wondered over how it could be possible for her to accept the Bite. His father had proved human women couldn’t survive getting the bite. Jeffery Daevers, the last Alpha, had spent all of his free time hunting down women he believed held the key to bringing females back into the Lycan race. Everyone turned a blind eye to what their Alpha was doing, never really looking for evidence against him. That was, until Jeffery had finally taken an interest in his son.
After Caleb had shown Alpha-like abilities, Jeffery had seen fit to take his son under his wing. He had taught Caleb to lead, to hunt and finally to continue his work; to bring the females back into existence. It had taken Caleb witnessing one woman suffering through the poison of the bite to overthrow his father. He had only been twenty-one at the time, but it had been needed. Once he was Alpha, he found out it had been more than just a handful of women that had died from his father’s bite. The number had almost reached triple figures by the time he had stopped his father’s experiment. No woman had ever shown signs of even possibly surviving the bite.
Now before him lay a woman that wasn’t writhing in agony, spitting up blood and pleading for mercy. Instead she was merely unconscious from silver poisoning and was gaining a stronger Lycan scent with every second. Caleb scratched the back of his neck confused by her very existence. How the hell was she even possible? He thought to himself. She should have been dead before Peter had even finished fishing out the bullet.
The door opened and Caleb’s head shot round to see Michael. “Anything?” he asked as he watched his Beta step further into the room. Michael stared at the woman, Clara.
“She looks more like a Chihuahua with a sore paw than a vicious Lycan,” joked Michael before turning to Caleb to deliver his findings. “It would seem no one has ever met her, but there are rumours of an Agent Richards. It would seem missy here preferred not to follow The Order’s rules when it came to hunting,” he said with a proud smile. Michael had never been impressed by humans using guns from a distance. In his mind there was no courage in their method. “It would also seem many Mutts are more scared of her than they are of us,” he added, “I think we’ve found our deterrent”.
“That is if she accepts the fact she can’t go back,” Caleb stated, “You never know, she may cling to the human side and try to return to The Order.”
“Then we’ll just have to convince her otherwise,” Michael replied looking back down at the woman. “Mary is ranting and raving upstairs about how you should be giving the girl a bed upstairs.”
“Once she wakes up and answers our questions, she’ll get the spare bed”. They both knew Clara Richards was staying whether she wanted to or not. Until she was awake, they had no idea where she would sleep out of the two options. Those options were either a well-furnished bedroom all to herself to do with what she liked, or the cage until she accepted her fate.
By six o’clock in the evening Clara still had not shown any signs of waking up. Caleb stood up from his chair. His eyes lingered on her face. Her skin was paler than when he had brought her into the house. But her eyes flickered back and forth beneath her lids. Her mind must have been running wild whilst her body lay still. Caleb turned away from her and headed for the door. It was time he socialised with everyone else instead of babysitting an unconscious woman, at least for a couple of hours.
“Howard….” her voice croaked. Caleb turned instantly; his eyes wide with shock. “No….” she croaked again. Her voice was raw, and her lips trembled. The words were weak as they passed her mouth. Tears fell from her closed eyes. Her heartbeat, however, stayed the same steady pace. Caleb breathed in trying to work his mind around what had happened. Her breathing slowed. A small sigh passed her lips before he watched her roll onto her side. He was relieved to see that Clara was no longer unconscious due to her wounds, she just needed a little more rest.
“Mary?” Caleb called out as soon as he returned to the ground floor of his house. He wandered towards the kitchen where food was brewing. “I need your help for once,” he added with a smile. The kitchen door flew open to reveal Mary. Her white hair was pulled back away from her face, which had a speck of flour on the right cheek.
“You sure do pick your timing,” she stated trying to seem cross, although her eyes were lit up with the fact her surrogate son needed her. “What is it anyway?” she asked crossing her arms.
“I was going to ask you to listen out for the girl while I rest up,” Caleb stated as he mimicked her body language, “But I guess I could ask Leonard”
“You would ask Leonard?” Mary’s eyes bulged, “He wouldn’t even know whether she was alive or dead. Just leave the door open, I’ll listen out for her”. She said waving her spoon at him. Caleb kissed her on the forehead before walking into his study.
As he stepped inside, Caleb knew he wasn’t alone. Michael and Edmund sat on the small sofa waiting for him. In that moment he knew that they had found out something more from the pack’s all-day search of Ash Forest. Slowly he sat down in his office chair, turned to them and waited for them to speak. They looked at one another as if deciding who would speak first. After a short moment Michael spoke up, “We found
the sight of conflict between the woman and a stray Mutt,” he stated, “Joseph identified the Mutt as Brandon Cox. From our records, he has been laying low for the past few months and no reason why he would be a target of The Order”.
“We’ll have to ask her if she knows why,” Caleb mused, keeping that question in mind.
“There was also a smell of death in that area,” added Edmund, “No matter how the fight played out, the Mutt died from the hand of the Hunter downstairs.” His voice became darker. The hatred he felt for The Order was evidently forming his opinion on what had taken place.
“There were shells on the floor, all had silver traces,” Michael said sticking to facts, “The Mutt was probably killed there and then moved towards the road, which a trail of blood and mixed scent suggests.”
“There was no evidence of anyone else being there, but she couldn’t have shot herself, could she?” mused Michael.
Silence hit the stilled room. None of the men looked at each other as they wondered about how the woman had gotten injured. Had she shot herself? No one in the Pack truly knew how to investigate a murder scene, only to investigate scents and to track people. It was how they worked. If a stray went missing, they either showed up after a few months or they didn’t. There was no need to investigate unless masses were disappearing. But this Hunter was different, her circumstances were different.
Chapter 2
A small spot of pain ached in the right side of her head. She had been lying down too long. Her eyes slowly opened. Bright light blinded her for a moment, causing her to blink rapidly against it. As she became accustomed to the light, she looked around her. The room was white-walled with cabinets lining the far wall to her right and two more beds lay out along the wall to her left. Clara knew that she was not back at Headquarters just by the size of the room. The medical facility at Headquarter would be noisy with nurses and doctors patrolling the gangway in the middle of the two rows of beds, there would be beeping from machines and chatter from patients. Clara moved slowly, her hands bracing her as she sat up. Material fell to her hip calling her attention to look downwards at herself.
Her eyes clung to the bandages on her arms. The t-shirt she had been wearing just the other day was caught on a large gauze patch on her abdomen. Moving slowly, she let her fingers graze the top of the dressing as she pulled her top up further. Bruising marred her normally tanned torso. Small patches of red stained the gauze. Clara slowly removed the bandage to reveal what had stayed a hidden memory.
There, on her side, lay the horror that would change her life. Clara swallowed hard on the reality. Her mind filled with images from her last hunt. She couldn’t remember exactly when she had been bitten, only that she must have been bitten whilst she was tackled by the Mutt. Then the final terrible image hit. Howard standing before her with the gun aimed directly at her. Her heart stilled; her breathing became erratic. Her eyes looked wildly around the room, as if he would step out of a corner and try again.
Out of fear she moved and propelled herself off the bed. Once her bare feet were on the ground she looked around for any evidence of where she was. A newspaper or a calendar, but there was nothing. She ripped the bandages from her forearms revealing cuts that stared back at her. They were almost healed; she had to have been unconscious for weeks. Her mind struggled to regain logical thinking. She no longer focused on what was around her but instead she tried to piece things together in her mind. Had Howard shot her or did something else happen? Her body shook with the panic. Her hands roamed her body trying to find evidence that she had been shot.
Sure enough her fingers found something. She lowered the collar of her once grey top and looked down at a wound in the centre of her chest. It had healed to the point it was no more than scabbing with a blue ring circled it. It was a colouration she was used to. On Lycans it meant a reaction to silver. She slowed her breathing, trying to calm herself. Her hand stayed on the small mark. He had shot her. Anger filled her.
Not caring that she was dressed in a blood-stained ripped t-shirt and matching almost completely destroyed jeans she stormed out of the room she had found herself in. Her eyes ignored the glow to her right as she exited the room and instead she found the nearest exit. A stairway leading towards a door that had been left half open.
She flew up them and through the half-opened door. Her mind focused on one thing. Revenge. How could someone shoot their partner for four years in the chest, over one little bite? Did she mean absolutely nothing to him? As she found herself standing and fuming in a hallway, her eyes darted in search of a door that would lead to freedom. There, she had found it. Half running, she charged to the front door and pushed through.
Warm air hit her. Sun blazed down and called her outside. The calm breeze and sunshine did nothing to calm her anger, but it did cause her to halt. Something was watching her. Fear bit into her. Her feet itched to run, to do something yet she stayed frozen watching the outside world. Something told her to stay in the building she was in, but she told herself she wasn’t safe. Nowhere was safe until she got revenge. Gritting her teeth, she sprinted from the door into the outside world. “No, you can’t go out there!” screamed a woman’s voice behind her. Clara didn’t care, she just ran.
She stayed on a set path before she felt something behind her. As trained, she took to the treeline beside the path. Clara darted from shadow to shadow. Her blue eyes focused on what was directly in front of her. The ground was rough on her bare feet, but it was nothing to pain that racked her mind.
Clara picked up pace, ignoring what her senses were telling her. Sounds filled the air as if warning her she had gone too far, but she kept running. Anger fuelled her running, yet the slow ache of her wounds kept reminding her to slow down.
The sounds around her slowly became clearer. Voices echoed from beyond her eye line. “I knew the packs were hiding them,” said a voice to her right. Clara stopped and took in her surroundings. She had run too far into the woodland. There was no path running alongside her now, and there were no clear markings telling her where she now stood.
“Just wait, a little bit further and she is out of their territory,” whispered another. Clara darted round, her eyes searching for the owners to the voices.
“Why wait?” hissed a clear booming voice. Clara turned quickly to look behind her. “The pack wolves are probably still in their safe little house” it added with a cruel hiss.
As her eyes focused on a shadow beyond the trees, she watched as it moved. It stalked her movements and watched her in return. Light flickered through the leaves lighting small areas around her. She gasped for air as she realised she was surrounded. Men watched her from afar. She had to run. Run to safety.
Instinctively she raced back the way she came. She wildly watched the area behind her from time to time. Her anger had faded into blinding fear. She had no idea where she was or what she was dealing with. Clara was completely out of her depth. She scrambled through the woodland trying to return to the path.
A heavy force pushed her off course. Her left side slammed into the rough side of a tree. She winced and attacked the weight that held her. Hands gripped her wrists and held them down. Her eyes blazed with fear. “Get the fuck off me!” she yelled as she tried to get free. Every manoeuvre she used was counteracted, keeping her locked against the tree.
“I wouldn’t move too much if I were you, those wounds you have were still pretty bad last time someone checked,” he said moving his arms as if to pick her up. As soon as his hands moved from hers, she lashed out and shoved the person away.
“Don’t touch me,” she snarled at him. The man merely glared at her for a moment. His dark eyes watched her closely. Clara stayed where she was, her eyes locked on his.
“It’s me or them,” he added after a moment. Clara stared back at the way she had come. A group of men stood in the distance. No, not all men. Wolves stood amongst them. She had been stalked by a group of Lycans. Her stomach twisted as she turned back to the man who stood opposi
te her.
The man moved closer to her. His eyes filled with concern rather than those predatory ones watching her from the shadows. Her mind whirled with suspicions. Lycans were known to be tricksters; they could con a man into giving up life if they were inclined to. Her eyes narrowed on him as he approached. His hand moved to her elbow and pulled her away as if to help her walk.
“I’ll be fine on my own,” Clara snapped as she pulled her arm away. She quickened her pace as she walked back to the large house she had run away from.
“So that’s the thanks I get for saving you,” mumbled the man. Clara glared at him over her shoulder as he trudged behind her. “Saving you twice in fact” he added.
Clara stopped. She turned around and stared at the man. Over six-foot-tall he towered over her, but then all Lycans had height and strength on their side. Only a few had looks that let them blend in with the world, but the one before her was clean shaven and well-dressed unlike many she had met. “What did you mean by twice?” she questioned.
“I would say getting you medical attention after being shot counted as saving you,” he said calmly.
“You got me medical attention?” she asked with a raised brow and her arms crossed. Her logical mind told her to run, to stop interacting with him and just run like a bat out of hell. But she had never been one to truly pay attention to the logical and rule-abiding side to her brain.
“Do you even know what would happen, what trouble I could bring?” she asked in mocked anger. Her eyes watched his reaction, each movement measured in her head about what he was thinking. His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. Then his eyes changed from dark amber to a blazing gold.
“I know exactly what you’ll become” he said not even trying to hide his pleasure at the thought of a female in his pack.
The Wolf's Huntress Page 2