The Midnight Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  Rex ignored them and summoned his two guards. “I need to know whenever Mir leaves the Compound. As long as she’s there, she’s protected. Outside—we’ll have the advantage.”

  A muscle-bound male with shaggy black hair snapped to attention.

  “Yes, Rex.”

  “Tomorrow, I want double the runners to move out that product.”

  Rex stalked out from under cover of the soaring concrete abutments and opened his cell phone. He selected a programmed number and waited.

  “I told you not to call this number,” a cool, modulated voice answered.

  “It couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” Rex said. “We may have a problem.”

  “We?”

  “Sylvan Mir led a hunting party down here tonight.”

  “What does she know?” Rex’s supplier asked carefully.

  “Possibly nothing. It might have been in retaliation for a problem with one of her females,” Rex said.

  “What kind of problem? Now is not the time for foolish mistakes.”

  “It was nothing. A couple of rogues scuffled with some adolescents.”

  “Our business venture?”

  “My end of things is fine,” Rex growled.

  “I’ll take care of giving the Alpha something to worry about other than you and your activities.”

  “Just be sure the shipments aren’t interrupted,” Rex said.

  “Be careful,” the icy voice said softly. “You aren’t the only renegade anxious to take Mir’s place.”

  Rex cut off the call just as a high-pitched wail was wrung from the bitch in heat. His wolf lunged for freedom so quickly and ferociously he barely managed not to shift. He wanted a female, but not one of these wretched, submissive bitches. He wanted to feel a dominant female cowering beneath his body. He wanted to break Sylvan Mir.

  ———

  When Sylvan’s cell phone rang she checked the readout and saw the call was from Niki. “Sylvan.”

  “Sophia called. We have a situation.”

  “What is it?”

  “A human female was dropped off at Albany General with what looked like Were fever.”

  Sylvan checked their location through the window of the Rover.

  “It’ll take me twenty minutes to get back there. Is Sophia handling damage control?”

  “I think it’s going to be more than she can handle.”

  “Is the press on it already?” Sylvan wondered if Sophia could reach Drake. Drake had offered her assistance, and even though Sylvan didn’t want to involve a human in a situation she still didn’t understand, she wanted to avoid media coverage that would raise panic.

  “Not that I know of, but…chances are good they’ll get wind of the story. The girl bit the ER doctor who tried to treat her. Sophia says the human is already toxic. I don’t know if we can keep that quiet.”

  Sylvan snarled. “Is it Drake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are they?” Sylvan’s roar brought her guards to attention.

  “Sophia got her out of the hospital. I couldn’t reach you right away, so I told her to bring the human here.”

  Sylvan’s wolf raged and howled in a protective frenzy, the instinct more potent than any she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t fight it, didn’t even try. The bones in her face angled and sharpened, her eyes flashed gold, and her claws tore through her fingertips. Her vocal cords thickened and her voice turned to sandpaper. “Sophia’s ETA?”

  “Ten minutes or so.”

  “We’ll be right behind them. Tell Elena to prepare an isolation room.”

  “Alpha, the chances that she’ll even survive that lon—”

  “Do it!” Sylvan closed her phone so violently she crushed it in her palm. She threw the useless device on the floor. Plaintive whines and growls rose from the rear compartment. Val and Max had shifted when Sylvan’s wolf had ascended, and now they paced restlessly behind her. She twisted in her seat and they both licked her face. Then she glanced at Andrew, who gripped the wheel with rigid arms, fighting not to shift.

  Sylvan commanded her snarling wolf into the shadows, and Andrew relaxed perceptibly. He and Lara had the strongest ability to resist the call when Sylvan’s wolf ascended, which is why one of them usually drove. Any less dominant wolf Were would have been powerless to resist when Sylvan was in mid-shift. “Get me back to the Compound. Now.”

  ———

  The Rover roared down the narrow forest trail and into the Compound. A dark SUV was parked in front of the infirmary. Sophia’s car, Sylvan surmised. Andrew had barely begun to slow when Sylvan bounded from the vehicle and raced toward the infirmary. Niki, naked except for a pair of black leather pants unsnapped at the waist, appeared from out of the shadows on the wide porch and planted herself at the top of the steps.

  “Move,” Sylvan growled, canines flashing in the moonlight, her wolf ready to attack anyone who got in her way. She’d partially shifted again, her attack hormones surging.

  Niki shuddered and her skin glowed golden red. “You can’t go in there like that.”

  Sylvan snarled and pushed Niki back with a hand in the middle of her bare chest. Her claws pressed into but did not pierce Niki’s skin.

  “Elena will shift, Alpha,” Niki panted, the pain of holding down her wolf nearly doubling her over. She’d never felt Sylvan’s fury this uncontrolled, and she’d never been pulled into the maelstrom so completely. Even when they hunted, she was able to stay in skin form if she needed to. She dropped to her knees as her bones battled to morph.

  A trail of red-gray fur shimmered down the center of her abdomen and dove beneath the waistband of her leather pants. “Alpha…” She gasped.

  “Alpha, if I can’t control myself, Elena…”

  Sylvan closed her eyes and pulled cool night air deep into her lungs. Once again, she battled down her wolf, by sheer force of will suppressing her most primal instincts to guard and possess. She had to see Drake, and Drake needed medical care. If her agitation and aggression caused Elena and Sophia to shift involuntarily, Drake would suffer for it. She couldn’t let that happen. A frustrated rumble rose from Sylvan’s chest as she finally overpowered her wolf. Niki’s breathing eased and the traces of pelt receded from her tight belly. Sylvan dropped a hand on Niki’s damp head. “Thank you.”

  Whimpering in relief, Niki tilted her head back and Sylvan cupped her jaw, her thumb brushing the corner of Niki’s mouth. “Stand guard for me, Imperator. No one comes inside.”

  “Yes, Alpha,” Niki whispered.

  ———

  Elena closed the door of the last room at the far end of the infirmary.

  She regarded Sylvan storming toward her and held up one hand. “You can’t come in right now.”

  Sylvan restrained herself from physically lifting Elena aside, but the effort taxed every bit of her control. “I want to see her.”

  “It’s not safe. I had to send Sophia out a few minutes ago.”

  Elena backed against the door, her face blanching as Sylvan growled threateningly. Her luminous dark eyes were smudged with worry, the hollows below her bold cheekbones deeper, etched with exhaustion.

  “The fever is progressing quickly. The human is irrational most of the time. She’s dangerous.”

  “She won’t hurt me,” Sylvan said, gritting her teeth to keep her wolf at bay. She felt as if she were being pummeled from the inside out, her flesh threatening to tear from her bones. “She hasn’t hurt you or Sophia, has she?”

  “We don’t know how this strain of fever affects a human,” Elena said, her expression imploring. “We don’t know if her bite is capable of inducing fever in us. We can’t risk the Alpha—”

  “If it’s not safe for me, it’s less safe for you.” Sylvan braced her arms on the door on either side of Elena’s shoulders and leaned down so her face was level with that of the smaller female. “I could force you to let me in, but I won’t. Elena, look at me.”

  Elena tilted her head against the door and rais
ed her eyes to Sylvan’s. She whimpered at the intensity in Sylvan’s gaze and wrapped her arms around Sylvan’s shoulders. She was tired and frightened, and she needed Sylvan’s strength. Sylvan kissed her forehead.

  “I need to see her. I need to understand what we’re facing if this spreads to more humans.” Sylvan spoke the truth, but it wasn’t the entire truth. She needed to see Drake, touch her, shield her from whatever threatened her. Drake was human, but she felt like Pack. Sylvan didn’t question her instincts, couldn’t change the ingrained drives that ruled her life. She only knew what she must do. “The survival of our Pack depends on us containing this outbreak.”

  “We can’t lose you,” Elena whispered, her fingers digging into Sylvan’s shoulders. “Misha is asking for you. She needs you. We need you.”

  Sylvan called her wolf and broadcast her strength and power throughout the Compound and far into the forest surrounding them.

  A wolf howled outside on the porch—Niki. A higher-pitched howl followed—Lara. A deeper howl, then another, and another as Max and Andrew and Val added their voices. They were joined by others until the air was filled with sound of the Pack uniting in harmony and trust.

  “I will never forsake you,” Sylvan murmured, her lips against Elena’s temple. “But I must do what is necessary. Let me pass, my wolf.”

  Elena cleaved to Sylvan for a long moment, then stepped aside.

  “Do not enter, no matter what you sense,” Sylvan said as she stepped through the door.

  A single shaded lamp burned dimly on a narrow dresser against the far wall. Beneath the window, a naked form lay bathed in moonlight.

  Drake’s dark hair lay in wet strands across her forehead and feathered against her cheek and neck. Her jaws were clenched, her chin tilted upward, accentuating the smooth column of her neck. Her back arched as if she was straining for a lover’s embrace, the long muscles in her abdomen tight, her arms and legs trembling. Her breasts, firm with small hard, dark nipples, lifted and fell with each quick breath.

  Sylvan recognized the scent she associated with Drake—sharp and smoky, like aged red wine. But now there was more—a dark, tangy undercurrent that promised wild pleasures. Her clitoris lengthened, her sex glands swelled, and she growled. She smelled wolf.

  Drake turned her head. “Sylvan?”

  “Yes.” Sylvan knelt by the bed and rested the backs of her fingers against Drake’s cheek. Her skin was fiery, her eyes fever-bright. Sylvan noticed a plastic catheter taped to Drake’s left forearm. “Do you know how to treat this?”

  “No,” Drake gasped as a cramp gripped her insides. “Told Sophia what medicines to try. Don’t know…if it will work.”

  “Do you want to turn?” Sylvan pushed her fingers into Drake’s hair, forced Drake’s eyes to meet hers. “Will you accept being Were?”

  “Yes,” Drake groaned, gripping Sylvan’s arm. “The fever might be fatal.”

  “I won’t let you die.” Sylvan had only seen a few humans afflicted by Were fever, and most died from some kind of toxic shock within a matter of a few hours. A few survived, their cells carrying altered mitochondrial genetic material, mutated during the course of the fever.

  Turned Weres. All but one, rabid. She had not been Alpha then, and it had not been her responsibility to order the executions. She would not do it now.

  Drake shivered. “Don’t let me hurt anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Can’t fight.”

  Sylvan didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. She could sense the wolf straining to emerge. She cupped the back of Drake’s neck and leaned close to her. “Don’t fight.”

  Drake’s eyes were closing, her body beginning to shake.

  Convulsions.

  “Drake,” Sylvan shouted, gripping her neck harder. “Don’t fight. Let her come. Let her come.”

  Drake screamed and thrashed, blood-tinged saliva collecting at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes rolled back and her jaws snapped violently, mere millimeters from Sylvan’s arm. The door burst open and Niki charged into the room. She grabbed Sylvan and jerked her away from the bed.

  “No,” Sylvan roared, lashing out, her claws catching Niki across the shoulder. Only the smell of Niki’s blood, the one wolf she trusted above all others, prevented her from ripping Niki’s throat out.

  Niki shoved Sylvan against the wall, rivulets of blood painting her chest crimson. “She’s not worth it!”

  “Get away from me,” Sylvan warned, her eyes wolf-gold.

  Niki dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around Sylvan’s hips, and pressed her face against Sylvan’s abdomen. “No.”

  Across the room, Drake writhed, screaming.

  “Elena,” Sylvan shouted.

  The Pack medic rushed into the room.

  “Help her,” Sylvan demanded.

  Niki, driven to submit after challenging her Alpha, licked Sylvan’s stomach, her fingers opening the buttons on Sylvan’s fly. Her canines grazed Sylvan’s belly as she dragged her mouth lower.

  “Don’t.” Sylvan threaded her fingers through Niki’s hair and guided her upright. “Go outside. Calm the others. I’ll be all right.”

  “Please, Alpha,” Niki implored. “There’s nothing anyone can do. Let me kill her.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you touch her, I will.” Sylvan gently kissed her on the mouth. “I need you. I need you by my side.”

  Niki trembled, torn between her need to obey and her need to protect. Caught between love and duty. “When the time comes to be merciful, call on me. Let me do this for you.”

  Sylvan shook her head. “I will do what needs be done.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Detective Gates, please,” Becca said when Jody’s cell phone rang through to the dispatcher.

  “I’m sorry,” a bored voice replied. “Detective Gates is not on duty tonight. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “No, thank you.” Becca hung up. She’d promised Gates she would contact her if something popped in the Were investigation. She’d called her, she’d kept her promise.

  She hastily dressed in a sleeveless green silk blouse, black slacks, and low heels. After double-checking her bag to be sure she had her phone, her recorder, and a digital camera, she grabbed her car keys off the small table inside her front door, hurried into the foyer, and jabbed the elevator down button.

  Impatiently, she watched the lighted numerals as the elevator climbed toward the eighth floor of her waterfront condo building.

  Her watch read 3:05 a.m. Ten minutes had passed since she’d been awakened by a call from the man—at least she thought the muffled voice was male—she had dubbed Mr. X. He’d told her to check the hospital for a victim of Were fever. He’d disconnected before she could ask him for a name.

  Fifteen minutes later she was in the ER at Albany General.

  “Hi, Charlie, how’s it going?” she said to the admissions clerk, an implacable thin bald man with wire-rimmed glasses who always wore a white dress shirt and creased khaki trousers. He sat at the counter in a cubicle separated from the patient admitting area by a sliding glass barrier. Becca knew the night crew in the ER better than the daytime staff because crime picked up at night, and crime was her beat. When she couldn’t get a doctor to even see her, let alone talk to her—which was pretty much one hundred percent of the time—she could usually find a nurse or tech who would give her a little bit of information.

  Charlie pointed to the rows of orange plastic bucket seats bolted to the floor, most of which were filled with patients waiting to be seen.

  “Night’s been crazy and it isn’t even a full moon,” he said in a low voice. “Who you looking for?”

  Becca checked behind her to make sure no one was in hearing distance and leaned through the window for a little more privacy. “Did you sign in any Weres tonight?”

  Charlie’s brows drew down, three perfect rows of horizontal lines appearing in his smooth forehead. “Most of the time that’s not something
they put on their admission forms.”

  “I know.” Becca thought of the photograph in the morning paper.

  If a Were had been brought in with something serious, wouldn’t the Alpha be contacted? “How about Sylvan Mir? Was she here?”

  “You see any news vans out in the parking lot?” Charlie groused. “Anywhere she goes, the press follows like a little gaggle of geese.”

  Becca laughed. “I resent that.”

  Charlie looked over his shoulder and bent forward, lowering his voice. “The Were medic—Sophia—she came in a couple of hours ago. I’ve been so busy up here, I didn’t have a chance to find out who she was seeing.”

  “Is she still here?” Becca asked.

  “I think I saw her leave. Like I said, it’s been a zoo.”

  “Who would know?” Becca asked eagerly.

  “The charge nurse—Harry Fitzpatrick. Good luck getting him to give you any information.”

  Becca knew Harry. He was an ex-army corpsman who’d gotten his nursing degree after serving two tours in Iraq. He ran the ER like he was still there, and he wasn’t going to give her anything. What she needed was a little official weight if she wanted to ferret out details about a patient. What she needed was a cop. “Thanks anyhow, Charlie.”

  “Sorry I can’t be of more help.”