Cee. At Raven’s stricken look, Simon bit back a curse. “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” Smile widening, Ross moved closer. “And you know this how?”
Digging his, or rather, Whearley’s, cell phone from his pocket, Simon watched the other man while scrolling down to find Cee’s number.
“I’m calling her,” Simon said. “You’d better hope she answers and tells me she’s all right.”
But after seven rings, the call went to Cee’s voice mail. Simon left a brief message, then dropped the phone back in his pocket.
“That’s not unusual. She often doesn’t answer her phone. She’ll call back.”
Shaking his head, Ross chuckled. “She won’t unless I tell my men to let her. I’m having her brought here.”
“Why?”
“That way I can have both of them in the same place. Before the younger one dies, I want to see them side by side with my own eyes.”
“The younger one dies?” Raven stepped forward. “What do you mean? Why do you want to kill us? And don’t try and give me that crap about us being Feral, because as you can see, I’m clearly not.”
Ross looked at her hard. “You really don’t know?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I don’t even know who my parents were.”
“The professor had files on them. Massive files, with pictures and everything. I’m guessing he didn’t let you see them?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Too bad.” He sounded completely insincere. “I guess he felt there wasn’t a good reason for you to know.”
While still speaking, Ross reached for his phone. Moving fast, Simon intercepted him, knocking it to the floor.
“No calls.”
Glaring at the younger man, Ross ran his hand through his close-cropped, silver-tinged hair. “Fine.” He glared at Simon. “This is going to end badly for you.”
“Your threats don’t scare me. Now tell us why you want Raven and Cee so badly. Did the professor experiment on them or something?”
“You fool. The young one—Cee—is the experiment. Professor Hutchins kept meticulous records. He cloned her. Cee is Raven’s clone.”
Chapter 15
“C loned her? How is that possible?” Stunned, Raven could only stare. “I know they’ve cloned sheep and other animals, but not a human.”
“You are not entirely human, my dear. You’re shifter, part wolf.”
As if she didn’t know. Ever since they’d snuck into this building, her wolf-self had been battling to break free. Even now she had to fight to keep from lifting one corner of her mouth and revealing her teeth.
“Why?” Simon snarled. “Why would he do such a thing? And how are you involved?”
Ross puffed out his chest. “Who do you think provided the funding?”
“But why? What’s the purpose?”
Ross flashed him a smug grin. “You never could see the big picture, Caldwell. Think about this for a moment. If we are successful cloning shifters, we won’t have to comb the world looking for Protector candidates. We can breed them.”
“Your own indoctrinated army.” Shaking his head, Simon appeared puzzled. “There’s something ethically wrong with your plan.”
“Not really. Right now we have to bring new Protectors here as small children, nurse them through separation anxiety, raise and train them. Sixty-seven percent drop out of the program when they become adults. Another twelve percent flake out after ten or twelve years, like you and Beck did. It’s becoming more and more difficult to keep trained Protectors.”
“Does Turley know about this?”
Ross looked away for a moment. “Not yet. But he will.” The grin came back, triumphant. “I’ll be a hero.”
Simon grimaced. “Is Turley even aware of how many Ferals are exterminated?”
“He doesn’t need to know. That’s what I’m here for, so he won’t have to get his hands dirty.”
“You know, when I was in training, rehabilitation was always stressed. It wasn’t until I began fieldwork that the emphasis was placed on extermination.”
“Hey,” Ross spread his hands. “Not my fault. Just think of how safe you kept the world by exterminating so many dangerous Ferals.”
“Have you ever compiled reports?” Simon’s flat tone contained a warning. “Checked out the ratio of killed to rehabilitated? I remember several guys were always asking about that.”
“Yeah, like your pal Beck. Guys who need a vacation.”
Simon shook his head. “The ones who questioned always disappeared. I can’t believe I never saw that.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Ross’s smile mocked him. “You were one of the good ones, the guys who did their job. You were always so focused on whatever case you’d been assigned, that you didn’t have time to question.”
“Turley doesn’t know anything, does he? He sits up there in his lily-white tower, believing you’re taking care of business the way you’re supposed to. Believing you care about the Protector’s Code.”
For the first time since they’d burst in on him, Ross fidgeted in his chair. “I do care about the Code. I’ve even been working on rewrites for it. All of this will be in the report I plan to give to Turley.”
“When?”
“All in good time. I’m not ready yet.”
“You’re not going to tell him. You don’t want praise. You want power. You’re planning to take Turley’s spot.”
A faint smile played across Ross’s mouth, even as he shook his head. “That’s an elected position.”
“And elections are this fall.” Simon frowned. “I’m sure you’re working on rigging those, too.”
Raven had heard enough. “I don’t really care about your Society’s internal politics. If Cee and I are your shining examples of success, why have you been trying so hard to kill us? That doesn’t make sense.”
Ross gave her a look so cold, it would have melted permafrost. “You’re not a shining example. You’re a Feral. I don’t need you alive. Dead, I can have your bodies analyzed, proof positive that the accomplishment is real.”
His callous disregard for life stunned her. But then, the entire concept of extermination had seemed wrong from the moment she’d learned about it from Simon.
What was one more death to someone with so many already staining his hands?
“You killed the professor, didn’t you?”
Ross laughed, ignoring her. “She’s pretty smart, for a Feral.” He gave Simon the thumbs-up sign. “Which means the younger one is smart, too.”
“She has a name,” Simon snarled, his expression black. “She’s not a thing, she’s a person. Her name is Raven. Use it.”
After a moment of silence, Ross chuckled. “You, my friend, have it bad.”
“No,” Simon growled. “I don’t. And I’m not your friend.”
“She’s a Feral. A wild animal. Don’t humanize her. There’s no point, especially since you know as well as I do that she must die.”
“Why?” Taking a step closer, Raven kept her gaze intent on Ross’s face, knowing if he looked closely, he’d see her wolf raging behind her eyes. Wild indeed. “Why did you kill the professor?”
Finally, the other man met her gaze. The hatred she saw in his eyes nearly made her recoil. Instead, she held her ground.
“I’m exterminating everyone who knows about this little project and won’t work with my agenda.” Ross sounded annoyed that she’d even asked. “What do you care? He was your oppressor, your captor. I’m sure you wanted him dead, didn’t you?”
She ignored the question. “If you’re killing everyone who knows anything about your experiment, more people have to die.”
“Very good.” Eyes narrowed, he applauded. “Your powers of deduction are amazing. Of course more have to die. I don’t want to take a chance that Turley will find out before I’m ready for him to know.”
Watching the two of them silently, Simon took a step forward. “This doesn’t make any sen
se. Even if you started five or ten years ago, by the time all of your clones grew old enough to become full-fledged Protectors, you’ll be an old man.”
Ross’s laugh chilled Raven to the bone. “Really? How old do you think Cee is?”
“She told us. She’s nineteen.”
“No. She thinks she’s nineteen. She’s actually only been alive for seven years. The professor cloned her right before you vanished.”
Stunned, Raven stared at the pudgy man, hoping she could convey her loathing with a look. “How is that possible?”
“I have legions of scientists around the world.” He sounded smug. “Cloning is only one of the projects they’re working on for me.”
“Working for the Society, you mean,” Simon put in. “They’re not supposed to be working on your private projects.”
“I am the Society.” Ross stood and yawned. “My projects ultimately benefit them. Now, I think this discussion is just about over.”
Without warning, Ross lunged for his desk drawer. Simon leaped. Ross only had the drawer halfway open when Simon hit him, knocking him away. They crashed into Ross’s chair on their way to the ground.
Rolling, snarling, they fought. Several times, Raven caught glimpses of wolf, then man, though no one physically changed. The clatter should have been enough to alert someone, but no one came.
Keeping her eye on the two battling men, Raven crossed to the front of the desk. Heart pounding, she reached for the phone and punched zero. When the building operator answered, she asked for Mr. Turley, hoping the other woman didn’t notice how her voice shook. To Raven’s relief, the call was put through without questions.
A secretary answered, of course. Trying to talk over the sounds of the two men fighting, Raven attempted to tell the woman she had a matter of extreme security to discuss with Mr. Turley. As the woman attempted to deflect her, Raven told her in a flat voice to tell Mr. Turley if he wanted to keep the building from exploding, he needed to go to Ross’s office on the sixteenth floor. Immediately.
Then, her piece said, Raven hung up. Now all she had to do was pray the secretary would relay her message. A bomb threat should be enough to get even the great man’s attention. At the very least, it would buy them some time.
Now if she could just keep Simon and his former boss from killing each other. As long as she remained human, there seemed little danger of that, thank goodness.
If everything went well, soon she and Simon would be free of this mess. If not…they’d probably both soon be dead.
With a sigh, she turned around just in time to see Simon clock Ross with a well-timed punch. The older man’s head shot back, into the corner of the credenza, knocking him out.
Bleeding from a cut on his lip, Simon climbed slowly to his feet. “What did you just do?” he croaked, motioning at the phone.
“I called Turley. He has a right to know. I refuse to be in the middle of a power struggle between him—” she jerked her thumb toward Ross “—and his higher-up.”
“For all you know he could be in on it,” Simon snarled. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. Now I’m thinking we would have been better off taking our chances.”
He barely got out the last word when the door burst open. Armed security guards rushed into the room, shouting at them to put their hands up.
Moving slowly and carefully even though her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest, Raven did as they asked.
“I think something went wrong,” Simon said low-voiced as he was cuffed. “Turley didn’t bother coming. Either he didn’t get the message or…”
Shaking her head, Raven finished his sentence for him. “Or Turley doesn’t care. Turley doesn’t care at all.”
As they started to lead Simon away, Raven started after him.
“No.” One of the uniformed officers blocked her. “You’ll be questioned separately.”
Made sense, sort of. Gazing after Simon until he turned the corner, she glanced back over her shoulder, watching as paramedics tended to a groggy Ross. As soon as he could speak coherently, she had no doubt he’d spin some fantastic story about a crazed former Protector and his Feral, out for revenge.
Of course, she should have known. Her past experience had proved books and movies were wrong. Good didn’t always triumph over evil. In her life at least, bad people always seemed to win.
Just once, she’d have liked to have seen things end differently. Now, if Ross had his way, she’d never have a second chance. She and Simon would never have a chance.
Or Cee. Or Beck. Or Zach. Even poor Theo, who’d done nothing more wrong than follow his pack leader, would die.
This strengthened her resolve. No way would she go down without a fight.
Instead of taking her to a prison cell or some windowless, locked room, the instant her two guards turned the corner, they headed toward the elevators.
“Don’t worry,” one of them said. “You’re safe.”
The other frowned in disapproval, but didn’t dispute his partner’s statement.
At the landing, the silent guard used a key to activate an elevator marked Private. The doors slid soundlessly open, revealing an interior paneled in polished mahogany and floored in thick, burgundy carpet.
Inside, instead of a multibutton panel, there was only one button, rimmed in antique brass. The guard pressed once and the elevator began gliding upward, finally coming to a smooth stop.
As the doors opened and they moved forward, Raven realized they’d entered an entirely different world. Where the other part of the building looked like a standard government office, strictly utilitarian, this floor appeared as luxuriously appointed as the penthouse suite of a high-end resort hotel.
Flanked by her guards, they walked the length of the large waiting room. Furnished with elegant couches and chairs, the focal point of the room appeared to be a huge, L-shaped, cherrywood desk. A tall, elegant woman in a dark-colored, tailored suit and stiletto heels waited there. Though she nodded at the two security guards, she smiled at Raven before addressing them. “Release her.”
Once they’d unlocked her cuffs, she nodded. “Please come with me.”
After a quick glance at her escorts, ascertaining they meant to stay behind, Raven followed the woman through a set of doors, entered and exited another room, then another, making her feel like a mouse caught in an elegant maze. At the final door, an ornately carved wooden panel decorated with mythic figures and wolves, the woman smiled once more and dipped her chin.
“From here, you must go alone.” She indicated the door. “Go ahead. It’s not locked.”
Heart pounding, Raven summoned a smile and grasped the handle. Pulling, she opened the door and entered the room.
And came face-to-face with a huge wolf with a coat so purely white, it appeared to glow.
Frozen, puzzling over this development, the air around the animal shimmered and sparkled. Raven blinked, suppressing the urge to rub her eyes. An instant later, a white-haired man stood naked in front of her.
Giving her a serene smile, he turned and pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt that had been draped over one of the two plush chairs.
“Please, sit.” He indicated the other chair. Waiting until she was seated, he dropped into the one across from her and held out his hand. “I’m Geoff Turley, head of the Society. Rest assured, I’m aware of Ross’s plans and know what he’s trying to do.”
Refusing to take his hand, she glared at him. “Were you aware how many Fer—er, wild wolves he’s slated for extermination?”
Sadness filled his large gray eyes. “Recently, I learned about this, yes. My intelligence has been faulty. They focused too much on the big picture and not enough on the little.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
If her forthrightness surprised him, he gave no sign. “I’ve already ordered a recall of all Protectors in the field. They’ll all go through retraining. We’re here to protect, not to destroy.�
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“And if a wild shifter doesn’t want to be rehabilitated, what then? Will you still order death?”
He sighed. “These things are complicated. Some of them are mad, a danger to themselves and others. When one kills a human, we have to take great pains to make certain the truth isn’t discovered. Some of those are beyond even our best attempts at rehabilitation.”
With a dip of her chin, she conceded that point. “But there are others, like me, who just want to live their lives and be left alone. What about them?”
“That’s what a Protector is supposed to do. Assess the threat. Someone like you—clearly intelligent, with access to society, yet who lives wild by choice—should be free to do as they please.”
“What about Simon?”
“Your mate? He will be informed. After the conclusion of this investigation, you will be free to live as you wish.”
“I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “What do you mean, my mate?”
He gave her a smile tinged with sadness. “Like our wild counterparts, shifters mate only once. When we find that special person, our mate, the joy we experience in our union knows no bounds.”
“And you?” She kept her voice soft. “Have you found your mate?”
“I did, yes.” His voice thickened and grief clouded his eyes. “We were married twelve years. I lost her in a house fire, seven years ago. Even now, I find it difficult to talk about.”
Though words weren’t adequate, she did the best she could. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have traded those years of happiness for not experiencing this pain…If you feel that Simon is your mate, don’t let him get away without telling him.”
Though she nodded and managed what she hoped was a convincing smile, his words only brought more pain. Even if she believed they were mates, someone like Simon would never want someone like her—a castaway. A Feral.
“Tell him,” Turley urged.
“I will. Where is he now?”
“I’ve also ordered him brought to me.” He glanced at a huge wall clock with Roman numerals. “I expect him at any moment.”
Wild Wolf Page 20