Soul Mates Box Set 2

by Diana Persaud

  “ENOUGH!” Lanie shouted.

  Kane shoved him away and they both sat up.

  Her nostrils flared and she bared her teeth.

  “You’re both cleaning up this mess.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Kane replied respectfully.

  She glared at Kane and he lowered his gaze.

  A big man like that afraid of a human? She’s half his size.

  Lanie fixed him with the same glare and he shifted uncomfortably.

  The floor was covered in bits of broken plate, smashed pancakes and syrup.

  She stormed out of the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a bucket and a mop. She held it out to them. Kane stood, walked over to her and took the mop and bucket.

  “Sorry Lanie.”

  She grunted and crossed her arms over her chest. Kane bent down and picked up a piece of the broken plate.

  “Didn’t you get this as a wedding gift?”

  “Yes. I never did like that pattern,” she replied.

  Kane nodded and the tension in his muscles vanished. He could sense the other man’s wolf withdrawing. His own wolf seemed to withdraw. He could still feel his wolf there, just below the surface, within reach.

  “Get that out of your system?” she asked.

  Kane nodded.

  “Good.”

  She stroked Kane’s face, shaking her head.

  “Emma is going to be upset when she sees that black eye.”

  Lanie left Kane and walked over to him. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, studying his face.

  “Well?”

  “I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll—”

  “Kane was one of the wolves experimented on,” Lanie said.

  “Fuck.”

  “Speaking of fucking—” Lucien interjected.

  “Lucien,” Lanie admonished.

  “Not you, Love. At least not until they’re gone,” he promised. All traces of humor was gone when Lucien turned to address him. “Your wolf won’t allow another to claim your mate. Either you claim her or I kill you.”

  All he could focus on was Serena, standing by the sink, her back straight. She refused to look at him.

  Did she think he would abandon her? Allow her to be given to another man?

  His wolf clamored to the surface.

  “She’s mine,” he growled.

  His wolf took over and he shifted again.

  ***

  Tired of staring at the endless sea of trees as they sped by, Serena studied their driver.

  Kane.

  The mate of the woman who rescued her.

  “Ask,” Kane said. “But you might not like the answer.”

  Taking a deep breath, she asked, “What did they do to you?”

  “Torture. Implanted a control device.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes.

  “Your mate wasn’t there,” he added softly.

  She gripped his forearm, squeezing gently.

  The large gray wolf in the back seat growled.

  “Relax. I’m mated,” Kane said then glanced at her. “Can’t he tell?”

  She shrugged.

  “Maybe he doesn’t understand what the scent means.”

  “He’ll be irritable until he—” Kane cleared his throat.

  Until he fucks me.

  Reaching back, she stroked her mate’s fur.

  And he can’t fuck me until he can control his shifting.

  Kane parked the SUV in front of a small log cabin nestled in the middle of the woods.

  “This is Lucien’s cabin. Your mate needs to work on controlling his shifting so he doesn’t shift in front of humans and expose us to the rest of the world.”

  She got out of the SUV and let her mate out of the back. Kane opened the trunk and removed a bright green duffel bag.

  “Lanie packed some clothes for you,” he said. He carried the bag to the front porch and set it down by the front door. He tried the knob. The door swung open easily. After a cursory glance, he returned to his SUV.

  “Lucien sent some wolves early this morning to restock the pantry. There is a satellite phone by the bed, preprogrammed with Lucien’s number. Call him if you need him.”

  “Thank you, Kane.”

  He nodded then left.

  “I bet you’re tired of being cooped up in that SUV. I’ll shift and then we can go on a run.”

  She carried the duffel back inside and set it beside the king sized bed. Robert-wolf followed her inside the cabin. He wandered around, sniffing everything. His lips pulled back and he growled.

  He must not like the scent of other wolves in our cabin.

  “Easy, Robert. You are scenting pack members. Learn their scent. These are friendly wolves. You need to learn the difference between pack mates and strangers.”

  She undressed, leaving her clothes on top of the quilt.

  She concentrated on her wolf form and shifted. Her skin stretched and bones popped. Thick white fur covered her skin as she dropped to the floor.

  With a short bark, she trotted past him and ran toward the forest. She trotted at a slow pace, not wanting him to think she was running from him and incite his wolf. The last thing she wanted was for him to claim her in wolf form. Male wolves were too rough, too focused on their own pleasure to take care of hers.

  She wanted to touch her mate, to stroke his skin and make love with him instead of being a passive recipient.

  Her ears twitched.

  He thundered through the forest, stomping on dry leaves as if he were an elephant on parade.

  She leaped on top of a fallen log and waited for him. He leaped, slipped and fell on his side.

  She lifted her paw, claws extended. She lay her paw on the log, gripping it with her claws.

  He barked and tried again, this time gripping the log with his claws. He managed to stay on the log and carefully walked toward her. He sniffed her hind quarters, his nose inching towards her tail.

  She swatted him playfully with her tail and leaped off the log. With a sharp bark to get his attention, she pressed her nose to the ground. She stomped on a dry leaf.

  Crunch.

  Then she stomped on the ground, the silence a sharp contrast to the loud crunch of leaves. She stepped around the ground, padding softly among the leaves. Then she leaped on a nearby rock and gave a commanding bark.

  Robert-wolf nodded and leaped off the log. He trotted along the ground noisily, stepping too hard on dry leaves. He slowed his pace and placed his paws gently on the leaves. He still made some noise as he moved around, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as before. She led him deeper into the woods, his paws treading lightly on the ground.

  Head held high, she trotted along, proud of what he had accomplished so far. Then a familiar scent tickled her nose.

  Her stomach quivered and the hair on her neck stood on end.

  Rabbit.

  Before she could bark a warning, her mate took off. He dashed through the forest, chasing after his prey.

  She darted after him, barking sharply, hoping he would fight the base thrill of the chase.

  Her mate crashed through the forest and she growled her displeasure. She continued after him, skidding to a stop when her nose caught another scent.

  Human.

  Her pulse raced and her legs felt weak.

  Where was he?

  Her ears strained as she listened to the forest sounds.

  She dropped to the ground, whining softly.

  Come back to me, Robert.

  The stinky scent grew stronger. The humans are getting closer.

  Then she caught a whiff of his scent.

  He’s close by. And he has no idea they’re here.

  Forced to pursue her mate, she moved. Keeping low to the ground, she followed his scent.

  He stood in the clearing, sniffing and growling.

  The wind carried voices to them and he snarled. He turned toward the voices. She rushed out from under a bush, knocking him to the side before he rushed past her. She s
crambled to her feet.

  Crunch.

  Pop.

  Sharp bark of pain.

  Whining, she bit at the steel trap digging into her paw.

  A voice shouted with surprise.

  “Two wolves?”

  “Get your gun. Now!”

  He growled and leaped on the first hunter, knocking them both to the ground. He ripped out the throat of the man then turned to the teenager. The young teen paled and dropped his rifle. He barked and the teenager scrambled away.

  ***

  Short of staff, they told him. A few days before Christmas, they said. Whatcha expect, Tyson?

  Bah, humbug.

  Detectives gotta spend time with their families, don’t they? they asked

  What about me? Don’t I get to spend a little time with my sweet Maggie?

  “Just check out the doctor’s place,” Sarge ordered.

  With a sour expression, he ordered Jansen to drive over to the doctor’s house.

  What was his name again?

  Jenkins? Jasper?

  He pulled out the small notebook he kept in his breast pocket, just behind his badge.

  Jessup. Rhymes with ketchup.

  His fingers drummed against the armrest.

  I hate ketchup.

  Jansen parked on the street. It was early in the evening and none of the lights were on in the doctor’s house.

  “You think the doc’s dead too?” Jansen asked as he walked around the front of the squad car.

  “If he isn’t, he’s got a lotta ‘splainin’ to do.”

  They went up the walkway.

  “Rookie, why don’t you go around the back in case the doc decides to make a run for it?”

  Jansen nodded excitedly and disappeared around the house.

  He rang the doorbell then rapped on the door.

  He waited a full minute then called out, “Doctor Jessup?”

  He rapped again.

  “This is the police.”

  He rang the doorbell then placed his ear against the door.

  As the faint ring of the bell vanished, he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. He stepped back and flipped up the strap that kept his weapon secure.

  His heart pounded loudly in his ears.

  He kept his hand over his weapon, ready to draw.

  The lock disengaged and the door opened.

  He released the breath he was holding.

  “Jansen what the fuck you doing in the house? We don’t have a warrant.”

  He fixed the strap over his weapon.

  “Back door was wide open. Looks like someone kicked it in.”

  “Sounds like probable cause to me,” he said, stepping inside.

  They made a quick check of the place. Neither was surprised to find the house vacant.

  “Where do you think he is?” Jansen asked.

  “Let’s check out his office,” he suggested.

  The first thing he noticed was the open door to the safe.

  “SentrySafe. Nice.”

  Wonder what he kept in here.

  “Looks like he shredded a bunch of papers, Tyson.”

  There were four small plastic bags full of shredded paper on the floor beside his desk.

  He shuffled through the papers on Jessup’s desk.

  What’s this?

  He frowned.

  Now why would the good doctor need a prepaid cell?

  “Rookie, bag this. Have the lab check for prints. We’ll also need a warrant for phone records. Get one for the house phone too.”

  He happened to glance at the ceiling.

  “Does that look like a bullet hole to you, Rook?”

  “Sure does, Sir. Somebody kicked in the French doors and shot up the place. But we didn’t find his body.”

  “That a question?”

  “Just thinking out loud, Sir.”

  “So what do you think happened here, Jansen?”

  “Kidnapped?”

  A piece of paper half hidden under the desk caught his attention. He picked it up.

  “Hey, Rook, you ever seen one of these?”

  Jansen let out a low whistle.

  “Must be nice to be able to lose a Benjamin and not even miss it.”

  He rubbed his jaw.

  “An employee ends up dead. Dr. Jessup’s computers in his office have been wiped clean. He came home and destroyed evidence.”

  “Evidence of what?” Jansen asked.

  He shook the hundred dollar bill.

  “He had money stashed away in his safe.”

  He rubbed his eyes.

  “Rookie, Dr. Jessup is on the run. We need to put out an APB on the bastard.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Harley, you’re hurt!” exclaimed Lanie when she spotted holes in his leather jacket and blood stains on his shirt.

  “’Tis nothing, my dear. A mere scratch,” he replied nonchalantly.

  “Harley, I insist that you go see Dr. Mallory.”

  Without another word, Lanie drove him to Dr. Mallory’s office.

  Lanie helped him out of his damaged leather jacket and pulled off his blood stained shirt. He enjoyed the attention as Lanie fussed over him. Out of nowhere, a wave of loneliness crashed over him and he wished he had a mate to fuss over him.

  “Both bullets exited your body,” Dr. Mallory informed him as she applied antiseptic to his already healing wounds.

  “You’re very lucky, Harley. An inch to the right—”

  Lanie gasped then clucked at him.

  What could he say?

  That he wouldn’t put himself in danger again?

  For Lucien, for his pack, he’d never refuse a dangerous mission. That’s why he was a Soldier.

  Lanie simply shook her head as she watched Dr. Mallory patch him up.

  Dr. Mallory placed a small piece of gauze on his shoulder, securing it with medical tape. She covered the rest of his wounds then released him into Lanie’s care.

  “I’ll take you home so you can rest,” Lanie said as they reached her car.

  “I’m fine, Lanie. Besides, I want to be there when Lucien questions Dr. Jessup.”

  “Har—”

  “—I don’t have to do anything, Lanie,” he interrupted. “I’’ll just sit and listen.”

  Reluctantly she agreed and drove them home.

  He followed Lanie into the Alpha house then headed straight for Lucien’s basement. Lucien and Zane were sitting casually on his sofa while Dr. Jessup studied them from behind the bars of his cell.

  ***

  Lucien, the leader of this Werewolf pack nodded and Dr. Jessup continued his explanation.

  “When your body receives an injury, nociceptors, special pain receptors along your skin, are triggered. Nociceptors send an electrical message to your spinal cord. Your spinal cord will cause you to react with a reflex designed to move you away from the pain causing stimulus. At the same time, the message is sent to your thalamus.”

  Why am I bothering to explain this? Without a diagram, this information is meaningless to these animals.

  He sighed then continued, “From the thalamus, the signal is directed to other parts of your brain so it can interpret the signal. It is also sent to the limbic system, which is responsible for emotions and emotional reactions to pain.”

  “The device I implanted in your kind was embedded into the thalamus. When the trigger was depressed, it caused the device to simulate the thalamus. The thalamus perceived the signals as if it were coming from the nociceptors, when in reality, it was not,” he replied smugly.

  “You tricked our brains into thinking our bodies were injured?” Lucien asked.

  “Yes. It was brilliant, if I do say so myself,” he replied, complimenting himself.

  “What is Project Hercules?” demanded Lucien.

  He snorted derisively.

  “An animal like yourself could never understand what I was attempting to do.”

  “He’s modifying humans, Lucien. Making them stronger.
You know, like Hercules, the Demi-god in Greek mythology,” Zane suggested quietly.

  Lucien raised a brow as he turned to Zane.

  With a shrug, Zane said, “Jackie’s into Greek Mythology.”

  “Never mind, Jessup. We will figure it out ourselves. Dr. Mallory will be here shortly and she will review all of the files we managed to retrieve from your home office. It won’t take her long to figure out your little project.”

  Lucien turned to leave.

  His massive ego couldn’t handle the thought of a wolf, a wolf-woman, figuring out his precious top secret project. Wanting to gloat, he called out, “Wait.”

  He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. Slowly, he returned them to his face.

  “I will simplify it as much as I can so that you animals can understand.”

  Lucien took a deep, calming breath and nodded to him.

  “Testosterone is commonly known as a male hormone, since large quantities are found in males. Testosterone controls a male’s sex drive, regulates sperm production, promotes muscle mass, increases energy levels and it controls human behavior, namely, aggressiveness.”

  “I feel like I’m back in my high school Biology class,” said Harley.

  He glared at Harley before continuing.

  “Average adult males have between 270 and 1070 nanograms of testosterone per deciLiter of blood. We took blood samples from the wolves we captured. On average they have between 2500 to 3500 nanograms of testosterone per deciLiter of blood.”

  “So we are bigger, stronger and more aggressive because we have more testosterone than normal men?” Lucien asked.

  Amazed that a wolf understood his explanation, he replied, “Yes.”

  “Do you know what controls the production of testosterone?” he asked, sure that they would be baffled.

  “Your balls?” Harley offered.

  “Well…your testicles do make testosterone. So do the adrenal glands. But what directs them to make testosterone?”

  They turned to Harley, who shrugged.

  “I have no fucking idea. I got a ‘C’ in Biology,” Harley replied.

  He made a sound of frustration.

  “Your DNA. Your chromosomes. Your genes....That’s genes with a ‘g,’’ not ‘j!’”

  “Ok, Doctor, we get it. You messed around with human DNA. Why?” Lucien demanded.

  “It’s quite simple. Wolves have elevated levels of testosterone. Humans do not. In order to increase the human’s levels of testosterone, we had to modify their DNA so that their bodies would make more testosterone on its own. Otherwise, we would have to give them daily shots of testosterone. That isn’t cost effective, nor is it practical.”