Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1

by Mark E. Cooper

  And Stephen?

  She was confused about her feelings for him. He was her friend, but he felt like more than that. He wasn’t human, not that she cared really, but she shouldn’t allow herself to be attracted to him. Her father had taught her to be tolerant of differences, but not that tolerant! Her friends would be ever so shocked if they knew how she felt about Stephen. In the social circles that she navigated daily, mixing with non-humans wasn’t at all the done thing. Everyone heard stories of course, titillating and shocking stories about girls who did mix with the monsters and let them do... things. The thought of letting Stephen do some of them to her was strangely intriguing and exciting.

  “Marie?”

  She focused upon Andrew’s concerned face. “I know what to do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’ll get us out of here. AML are always doing this—extorting money I mean. I’ve heard the stories. I’ll buy our way out.”

  “Just get yourself out. Don’t push them on anything beyond that.”

  She wasn’t leaving him and Stephen behind, but saying that would only result in a tiresome lecture. Everyone treated her like a child. She frowned. Stephen never had, and perhaps that was part of the attraction she felt. Whatever the case, she wasn’t leaving them behind, and if AML were true to form, she wouldn’t have to. There were hundreds of kidnapping stories successfully concluded from a victim’s point of view by the liberal application of money. If there was one thing she had plenty of, it was money.

  What worried her the most was Stephen. As one of the monsters AML hated, why hadn’t they simply killed him? And while she was asking impossible questions, why were AML working with monsters at all? Terry and his friends were all vamps. She had never heard anything like this happening before, but perhaps it meant that she really could buy Stephen’s safety along with her own and Andrew’s as well. She hoped so.

  “When will Stephen wake? Shouldn’t he be up now? They did take those hideous cuffs off him.”

  Andrew shrugged. “Sunset isn’t far away. He’ll wake around then depending upon how powerful he is.”

  “What do you mean? I thought vampires couldn’t abide the sun.”

  “They can’t, not direct sunlight at least, but the more powerful ones awake earlier and can stay up longer as long as they stay out of the light. Down here? He could probably stay up half the day if he forced himself.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve made it my business to know, Miss Stirling—”

  “Marie.”

  He smiled. “Marie then. I’ve made it my business to study the threats I might have to face one day. It didn’t do me or your father a great deal of good.”

  He sounded bitter about that, and probably should. Her father, his patron, was dead because he had failed in his duty. She didn’t blame him, but he obviously blamed himself. He had lost his entire team back at the house, and like poor Jonathon, he had known them all for years. They had been his friends as well as his colleagues.

  Stephen had yet to wake when they came for her. She tried to be brave, but Andrew’s fear for her was obvious in his expression. The relieved glances passed among the other prisoners when it was her cage they unlocked made the fear worse, because they had obviously been here longer and maybe knew what was in store for her. She didn’t resist when the armed men waved her out and up the steps ahead of them. What would be the point? They would only drag her and that would be degrading as well as painful. She had to at least pretend to be unafraid and in some semblance of control of the situation. Perhaps if her acting skills were good enough to fool them, she might fool herself into believing her own act.

  They marched her up the steps, through the industrial-sized kitchen, and into the house. It was a big place. She could tell just by the feel that the estate must be much bigger than her home, and she wondered where in the valley they were. They were less than an hour from home. She had tried to keep track of the trip by counting time and noting things like the turns they took. She had seen movies where kidnap victims did that. It seemed silly now. What could she do with the information? Nothing now, but if she did manage to get away she might be able to lead the police back here. It was a hopeful thought that she tried to believe in.

  Her captors led her into a room and left her alone. She watched them file out the door and close it. The moment she heard the lock click, she was across the room and checking windows. They had alarms. She glared at the little magic eye thingies, and tried to think of something to do about the damn things, but she was no super geek or cat burglar. There was nothing she could think of and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She turned on the spot inventorying the room, and hoping for inspiration.

  The room was open and sparsely furnished, not meant for sitting or entertaining, but for displaying someone’s collection. The contents were visible despite the room being unlit. The display cases ranged along the walls had their own lighting. Her eyes widened when she realised what they contained.

  Weapons!

  She ran to the nearest and opened it. The guns were the really old-fashioned ones. The ones with hammers holding a flint to make them work, not the modern magnetically or air-propelled types. She looked for a cabinet containing something more modern, and found one that held old-fashioned slug throwing revolvers of all kinds. She picked one up. It was heavier than it looked. She made the cylinder slide out hoping to find bullets already in place, but it wasn’t loaded. She started hunting for the ammunition. There were drawers below the cabinets, but nothing she found would fit the gun.

  Oh! Why keep guns without keeping the right ammunition close by? It's not fair!

  She discarded the revolver and looked for any ammunition that she could find and match to a weapon.

  “You will not find what you are looking for, Miss Stirling.”

  Marie gasped and spun to face the door. A vampire stood in the open doorway watching her with a small smile upon his lips. A mixed group of more vampires and humans attended him, standing silently at his back. Terry was one of them and he smirked at her. Rage ignited at the sight of him. He had betrayed her to the monsters not once but twice now, but more outrageous to her was his double-cross of Stephen. Stephen had dealt fairly with him, and yet despite that, he had betrayed his master just as he had betrayed her that first time.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Arcadian, and this is my home. Welcome!” He stepped further into the room, looking around at the subtly lit display cases. “The guns you find so interesting are for show only—replicas many of them, though cunningly made and of the highest craftsmanship I assure you. Do weapons interest you?”

  They certainly did right now, so she nodded.

  “I do not favour guns myself. I prefer blades. Come, let me show you.” He held out a hand to her.

  Marie swallowed and went to join him. His friends stepped out of the way, and he escorted her into another room. He allowed her to precede him and she stopped a few paces later in amazement. The room was an armoury complete with elven armour as well as the human variety once favoured in Europe. Her host beamed. He was inordinately pleased with her shock.

  “Wonderful, is it not?”

  She nodded wordlessly, though wonderful wasn’t the first word she would associate with all this. Priceless, surprising, stolen? She doubted the elves knew that some of their magical artifacts had fallen into this maniac’s hands. Elven weapons and armour were highly prized by everyone. They did not sell such things, ever. These could only be prizes taken in battle centuries ago, and that meant they were heirlooms of elves probably—almost certainly—still alive today. To the elves, these things would be personal mementos belonging to their families and clans. How would they feel looking upon all this, perhaps still mourning their dead even centuries later? It would enrage them to learn all this had fallen into the clutches of evil. All undead were considered evil by them, even Stephen would be, despite his honourable reputation.

  The elves didn’
t tolerate much beyond their own people and customs. They were akin to AML, if opposite in view. Anything non-elven was considered lesser at best, and totally anathema at worst. Invariably beautiful they might be, but they were cold hearted and prejudiced bastards. Still, in this case she wouldn’t mind if they found out about this place and wiped out AML and its allies to take back their property.

  “Everything you see here is original. There are no replicas allowed to contaminate this collection. Can you guess the era? No? It all dates back to the War of Races. Verified I might add, by experts in the field.”

  Wow! That was even worse. At the end of the war, prisoners, weapons, and armour—everything was repatriated to the original owners as part of the treaty. She couldn’t imagine how nine complete sets of armour could have fallen into Arcadian’s hands. The swords could be thousands of years old, yet they gleamed as if new. The magic within them kept them sharp and unsullied.

  “Do you like them?” Arcadian said, surveying his treasures with pride.

  “Very much, but how did you acquire them?”

  “They were in a private collection in Chicago belonging to an acquaintance of mine. He no longer has need of them.”

  One of Arcadian’s clique laughed, and the others smiled briefly.

  Marie’s eyes flicked from face to face, pausing upon the two women in the group. One was an exceedingly beautiful vampire; the other a young human who Marie thought looked puzzled and unsure. Terry seemed baffled by all the fuss. To him the entire collection was nothing but worthless scraps of metal. Cretin. The artifacts filling the room were historical treasures beyond price. Many would kill to own them, as Arcadian had no doubt done. She took his hint to mean that at least.

  Goddess, she wanted out of this madhouse. She eyed the tall patio doors that led outside to the gardens. It was dark out there now, but she didn’t care. She would be safer out there in the dark with whatever was hiding in the shadows than in here. Whether he noticed her evaluating an escape route or not she wasn’t sure, but suddenly Arcadian was all business.

  He took her elbow gently and began to guide her back the way they’d come. “Let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk.”

  “You came to LA from Chicago?”

  “I lived there most recently, yes.”

  “Why am I here, Mister Arcadian? My father...” she swallowed what felt like a boulder of grief. “He died because of you.”

  Arcadian glared at Terry. “I’m sorry for that. It was not my intention to harm either of you.”

  “No? What was your aim then?”

  They entered a room and took seats. Marie assumed that Arcadian used it as his office. There was an impressive antique desk and a bar to one side. Electronic gadgets festooned one wall opposite the desk, all of them inactive, and other quality furnishings. She began to worry that her idea of buying herself free might be in jeopardy because it was obvious Arcadian didn’t lack funds. He might reject any offer she made. Her thoughts raced. What could she offer if not money? Her shares? Still money, but better than cash. Techtron was a huge corporation and very profitable for shareholders.

  “Does it matter now?”

  “I would like to know,” she said. Stephen would definitely expect her to ask good questions. She intended to report everything she learned to him. He must be awake by now. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Certain agreements with my allies were imperilled by your father’s investigations and his association with House Edmonton.”

  “But there is no association.”

  “Come now. Your father was meeting with Stephen to discuss it.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Terry grinned.

  Marie scowled. “The traitor told you,” she said and Arcadian nodded. Terry’s smile fled. “So you killed my father, abducted me and my friends, all for Wilson?”

  “Wilson and AML are important allies of mine and will be for some little time yet.”

  “Not forever?”

  “Not if certain things go as planned, no, but we digress. I had planned to discuss this with your father. I have no doubt we could have come to an agreement.”

  “By threatening harm to me you mean?”

  “Exactly.”

  She swallowed, seeing the sudden gleam in his eyes. “And now?”

  “That depends upon you. Will you drop the investigation?”

  “I’m not on the board. I don’t have a voice in the decision.”

  “Come now, you know that isn’t true. You will inherit your father’s shares and properties.”

  “But not his position on the board,” she insisted.

  It was true too. An interim chairman would be selected, and later a vote would be held. She would have influence as majority shareholder, but no one with sense would allow a twenty-three year old woman with no experience in the business to take the chair. The closest she had ever come to running a business was selling cookies at summer solstice!

  She shifted under the intensity of his stare, careful not to catch his eyes with hers. “I could pay you to let us go.”

  His glare intensified. “Do I look like a merchant to you?”

  He looked like a goddess cursed fiend to her! A damned psycho with a god complex! “No but—”

  “Then do not attempt to bargain with me. You will stop this investigation. Say it.”

  “But I can’t!”

  “Say it!”

  She swallowed. “I’ll stop the investigation,” she whispered.

  He beamed. “There, I knew you could do it.”

  But... he was a maniac. He really was mad! She couldn’t do what he wanted, not because she didn’t want to—she didn’t want to because Wilson was a snake—but because she literally couldn’t prevent an internal investigation that her father had already initiated! There were people already working on it. Wilson was already finished, though he didn’t know it yet. The story would break very soon. Her father had only been holding back long enough to discover how the transfer of funds had been accomplished. He’d wanted Stephen’s agreement to let him investigate that aspect, but he hadn’t counted upon it. His investigators were digging like mad already. Within days, a report would land on each director’s desk.

  “You’re letting us go then?”

  “You can’t!” Terry said. “You promised that I could have her. You promised—gah!” Arcadian’s hand was around Terry’s throat before Marie knew he had moved.

  “Do not tell me what I cannot do, Terry Sayles,” Arcadian hissed. “It’s your fault and failure that forced me to this measure. You were ordered to bring her father to me, not kill him! This girl was to be your reward for that task. A task you failed to complete!” he roared, shaking Terry like a rat in a cat’s jaws. “You failed me; you’re lucky I do not kill you for it. Take my forbearance as your reward.”

  The door opened and a man entered. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “What is it?” Arcadian said, still glaring and throttling the life out of Terry.

  Marie willed him on.

  “You asked to be informed of any AML developments.”

  Arcadian turned to face the newcomer, still holding Terry off the floor by his neck as if he’d forgotten about him. Marie shivered at this evidence of his strength and mental state.

  “What news, Cadmon?”

  “Newman came himself this time, sir.”

  “He’s here now?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Did he say why?”

  Cadmon hesitated, glancing at Marie. “Yes sir. He came because of her. He says...” he swallowed nervously and glanced at the others in the room. “He said because you... because we didn’t take care of business in a timely manner, he’s had to take matters into his own hands, and that if we can’t supply what was promised he’ll find another supplier.”

  Arcadian hissed, his fangs descending and his eyes burning red suddenly. “He dares? He dares come here, into my House to say that to me? Is the man a fool?”


  “I would venture not, sir. I think he might be shrewd enough to have taken precautions.”

  “Hmmm, probably so. I always liked that about him. Very little else to like, eh?” Arcadian laughed, and everyone mimicked him. The sound cut off as if with a knife, and everyone instantly fell silent again.

  Marie stared. They were all frightened of him, she realised. They worked for him, yet they were scared spitless to cross him or even speak up. What kind of man engendered that in his own friends?

  Arcadian frowned when he noticed Terry and gently lowered him to the floor. “Terry my dear fellow, I was just thinking about you, and here you are! Take Miss Stirling back to her cage will you?”

  Terry swallowed nervously, his eyes huge. “Yes sir, at once sir!”

  “Good man. I need to speak with Newman and calm him down.” Arcadian turned to Marie and gave her a polite but tiny bow of the head. “I’ll come down later to finish our chat. I won’t be long.” He strode out, and his entourage hurried to follow.

  Before Marie could react, Terry was on her, pinning her in place on the couch. “Get off me! He’ll kill you for this!”

  “Only if someone tells him. He gave you to me, and I’m taking what’s mine before he changes his mind.”

  “He already did. He’s letting us go!” She shoved at him, but he was stronger than he looked now.

  “Then there’s no time to lose, is there?”

  She gasped as his fangs punctured her throat. She tried to fight, but a warm lethargy stole her will and she was suddenly floating. It felt wonderful, and when he began fumbling at her clothes and groping sensitive flesh, she didn’t care. She moaned and arched against his hand cupping her sex, and thrust against the heel of his hand. Fingers slipped inside her and her climax was immediate. She screamed her pleasure, or tried to, but a hand clamped over her mouth stifling her ecstatic cries. All chance of rational thought or protest shattered in a mind-blowing wave of pleasure that engulfed her entire body. Terry’s mouth on her neck, sucking and swallowing her life became her world. Her blood flooding into his greedy mouth was all that mattered. She didn’t care about anything other than what her body was feeling. Another orgasm shook her, and then another, and another, each one ripping through her in an unending stream of poor bliss. They blended together and they went on, and on, and on...