by Sarah Noffke
“I think you can lead us straight to a trap and I don’t fucking think so,” Adelaide said, turning to Rio. “Meet an invisible git. You’re taking her to the submarine and escorting her to Los Angeles.”
“But I—”
“If she gives you a problem or turns invisible then you have my permission to break her in two,” Adelaide said to Rio, her eyes on Kris.
“You got it, Boss Lady,” Rio said, clamping a hand around Kris’s wrist and tugging her forward.
“And inform the sub crew about this so they take measures to prevent the invisible git from getting back into the Institute,” Adelaide yelled down the hallway as Rio led Kris away.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Hunter Smith – Age: Twenty-Three. Height: Five foot, ten inches. Weight: One hundred eighty-five pounds. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Ethnicity: White. Employment: None/Recently discharged from prison. Skill: Unclassified. Rank: Unknown.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
LA Times
Another attack has left authorities clueless about the Rabid Wolf. That’s the name used for the attacker in a series of brutal murders. Eyewitnesses describe the man as having brown fur on his hands, arms and around his face. One witness reported that the man had long canines and claws. That case involved a ruthless beating of a woman in her own home. The woman was transported to the hospital where she later died of internal bleeding.
In the most recent attack, the assailant broke into an assisted living facility and attacked one of the residents. The staff was alerted to the incident but arrived too late. The resident was found with such severe injuries that there was nothing doctors could do. “It appeared that the woman was eaten alive,” the coroner reported. The only piece of evidence that tied this case to the others was long sharp brown hairs that were found at the scene of the other murders. Testing proves that they match, but strangely it also shows the owner has canine DNA.
Presently authorities are asking for anyone who knows anything about this case or its victims to come forward. And until this person is caught, Los Angeles residents, especially women, should be cautious and lock their doors.
Chapter Forty-Five
“David Sanders – Age: Thirty. Height: Six foot, one inch. Weight: One hundred ninety pounds. Hair: Dark brown. Eyes: Green. Ethnicity: White. Employment: Discharged Army. Skill: Unclassified. Rank: Unknown.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
Ren hated technology. However, it was technology created in Aiden’s lab that had assisted Adelaide’s father with his death mission. He had the head scientist create the process for converting Middlings to Dream Travelers. Then he had Aiden construct a device to open portals into other realms. None of that really mattered to Adelaide, because it was useless to her. The part that was important was that even Ren Lewis had turned to technology at one point. This made Adelaide feel better about this next phase in the werewolf project.
“There’s my favorite British girl,” Aiden said when Adelaide entered his lab.
“I’m the only British girl in the Institute and you never leave this place,” she said dryly.
“You’re as bad as your father was at taking compliments,” Aiden said with a chuckle.
“Can you stop robbing me of the will to live with your dumb jokes and give me good news,” Adelaide said.
“Well, I do have good news, but as it usually happens, it’s nestled in a bit of bad news,” Aiden said, leaning on the workstation and crossing his feet in front of him. He always wore the same red Converse shoes because he was apparently color blind.
“Good news first. I’ve had a bloody awful day,” Adelaide said, tucking the book under her arm and thinking about the invisible girl who had the gall to ask to be inducted into the Lucidite Institute. Security measures definitely needed to be increased at the Institute. Just when they thought trespassers had been stamped out, a new one presented itself. Invisible fucking people.
She still stood by her decision to chunk the woman out of the Institute. Trent had said she’d been reactive, something Ren never would have been. However, she thought the invisible woman was a liability and there was no way she was offering up real information on Olento Research. But she had her followed after leaving the docks, although that had brought no leads since she turned invisible at once.
“Well, I’ve finalized the process for reversing the werewolf conversion,” Aiden said, his voice overflowing with enthusiasm.
“Great, that is your bloody job. Do you want a pat on the back for doing that which you’re paid for?” Adelaide said.
An abrupt laugh spilled out of his mouth. “No, but a little recognition goes a long way.”
“Go elsewhere,” Adelaide said. “Bad news. Give it to me.”
“Well, the bad news is that as with any experiments, it’s untested at present. This means that the first time I perform the conversion, it might have assorted effects. I’ve done as much testing as I can at this point and only trials will give me definitive answers,” Aiden said.
“What does that mean?” Adelaide said.
“It means that it could cause brain or physical damage to the subject, or even death,” Aiden said, his voice suddenly serious. “This is uncharted territory, so there’s no way for me to know.”
“But the conversion reverse will remove the wolf from the man so he doesn’t change, correct?” Adelaide said.
“It might. That’s why we have to test.”
“What about their Dream Traveler skills?” she said.
“That stays intact, although reversing the werewolf might dim their skills a bit. I’m not sure,” Aiden said.
“I don’t really see where the bad news is here. We test this on a werewolf and hopefully it works and removes the wolf from them. Otherwise it kills them or makes them a vegetable, but they are one less problem for me,” Adelaide said.
Aiden released a small sadistic smile at Adelaide. “That sounds like something Ren would—”
“Shut up,” Adelaide said, cutting him off. “Let’s move forward on this. As soon as he’s better, you have my permission to perform this experiment on Connor. He’s the test subject I’m offering up and the only one of the werewolves I can afford to lose if things go awry.”
Adelaide lowered her chin, studying the floor under her feet. They’d lost two werewolves, Orion and Hugo. However, they’d also taken down Wolf X. There was a victory in there somewhere. The biggest success was that Connor and Rio had been saved and returned to the Institute. Maybe she hadn’t worked this case the way other agents would have, especially her father. However, she was making progress. And soon she’d find Mika Lenna and destroy him and Olento Research. But that wasn’t her main goal. Not really. More than anything, Adelaide wanted to give the werewolves their lives back. She wanted to fix them if she could. And if she couldn’t then she wanted to give them a life they could value.
Epilogue
Adelaide picked up the crayon that Lucien had apparently left in the middle of the hallway.
“Pops, do you know where my gray sweater is?” she yelled down the hallway, slipping the crayon in her pocket. A younger Adelaide had spent all day drawing and was quite talented at it. She hoped her son inherited this from her, since she knew he’d battle for all his life with the monster he also inherited from her. Art could be relaxing. Distracting.
“It’s in your bottom drawer,” Pops said, ducking out of the kitchen area, flour on his face. She wasn’t sure why he was baking since the Institute provided all their meals, but her granddad said it made him feel close to his dead wife when he baked. He often spoke of the bread she made daily and how it filled the house with warmth and wholesome smells.
“Thank you, Pops,” Adelaide said, eyeing the little boy sitting on the kitchen counter, his fist in a bundle of dough and flour on his cheeks. She wished she was the type of girl who could share in this family experience, baking beside her son and granddad
. However, that kind of thing made Adelaide feel lonelier lately. She just needed a bit more time with her pain, her loss. Soon she’d be over Ren and she could repair things with her son… hopefully. That’s what she wanted most.
“How long will you be gone?” Pops said.
“I’m not sure. I’ll try to dream travel back regularly, but when I’m here at the Institute, I’ll need to be telling my git team what to do,” Adelaide said, walking for her room.
“They’re lucky to have you,” Pops sang. He meant it, but she didn’t believe him.
Adelaide stared at the suitcase. She’d been accepted as a scientist for Parantaa Research. The Institute could forge records for anything, making others think that Adelaide was an Ivy League graduate. Now she could find information from the inside, not as a covert spy, like the pathetic invisible woman. The agents Adelaide had sent to spy during dream travels hadn’t turned up anything at Parantaa because they had to simply observe. From her position, Adelaide could learn a lot about the organization and its sister company, Olento Research. As soon as she started her new position, she’d be that much closer to taking Mika Lenna down.
Tossing her father’s book to the side of her suitcase, she half smiled at the small object. Of course, she didn’t lose Ren’s book. She’d never let anything happen to it. And it had been returned because she was the true owner. Now she only needed to discover what secrets it held for her. She’d have to stop by the infirmary on her way out of the Institute and let Connor know that she’d found the book. He’d be relieved. It would show itself easily on his face, she thought, seeing the interaction in her mind. Then she’d tell him she was leaving the Institute. How would he react to that? Would he care? And did it really matter?
Adelaide shook her head, dispelling the thought. She was the presiding agent on the werewolf case, and that’s where her head needed to be. Soon Connor would have the werewolf reversal procedure done and maybe he’d live. Maybe he’d die. Or maybe he’d return to being only a man. Then he’d be safe to be around. Predictable. Well, as predictable as any beautifully flawed man can be.
Genetically Altered: HUNGRY FOR BLOOD, Book #3
Prologue
A cool mist made the air thick. It wasn’t raining, but it was threatening to. Hunter would have to be quick or otherwise someone would spot him. He wouldn’t be able to take his time with this victim, like he’d done before. The woman he’d murdered last week at the assisted living facility had died too fast, making the whole event less than enjoyable. She was so weak and died from the first few assaults. Women were weak, Hunter thought. All of them. That’s why the rabid wolf was taking them out, one by one.
For a week, Hunter had been stalking the woman he was going to visit tonight. She always ran in her neighborhood at the same hour. It was a pretentious area in west Los Angeles because this woman was a pretentious bitch who only cared about money. Fiona had married some guy with a shiny car. Hunter knew from the beginning that all she cared about was prestige and annual income. Women were only interested in money. All of them.
She still ran because the slut was obsessed with her body. Never was she satisfied with her firm ass or her flat stomach. Hunter had watched her drink strange concoctions that were supposed to detox or brighten her complexion. Fucking LA women. They were all the same, obsessed with their bodies, looks, and money. Before the whore got married, on their first date, Hunter told Fiona that he wasn’t paying for her salmon, that she had to pay her half of dinner. She smiled, her teeth bright and probably artificially white, and agreed. That date ended early because she got a call from her mother who apparently was ill and needed flu medicine. Women were always getting sick because they were weak, he thought. They got sick and then refused to take care of their responsibility… their children. And women, as the weaker gender, expected other people to take care of them when they were sick. Women were pathetic. All of them.
Hunter had dismissed Fiona at once, not really caring to stare at her a moment longer. After that they continued to see each other at the gym, where she flirted with other guys and ran for miles on the treadmill. However, they never spoke again because she was a dirty whore who refused to make eye contact with him when they passed at the gym. They’d just had the one date and she rejected him… just like the other women. They didn’t know a good man when they saw one. That’s why Fiona bent over regularly in front of the dumb jocks weight lifting, pretending she’d dropped her towel. But that bitch wasn’t going to be smiling after he was done with her.
Fiona stopped by a park bench and pulled up her ankle behind her to stretch her leg. In her tight pants her butt was perfectly round. Hunter pressed his claws into the bark of the tree right in front of him, trying to quiet the wolf. It wanted to spring forward and ravage the girl who was now kneeling over, stretching deeper. However, the man in the werewolf wanted another moment to watch her. Hunter could control the wolf because since the beginning he’d given it what it wanted. Flesh.
Hunter pictured that the other werewolves he’d been with at the lab probably struggled with the wolf because they tried to tame it. But Hunter had embraced the wolf from the beginning, indulging its every desire. And on nights like this, when he changed and the wolf came out, he was prepared with a victim to offer to the werewolf.
He narrowed his eyes at the girl who in the dark mist couldn’t see with such detail, but Hunter’s vision was incredible, especially at night. A low growl vibrated his lips where his fangs rested. The werewolf stepped out from beside the tree, crouching down low on the moist grass. It then dragged its claws against the bark of the tree, making a sound that a normal human could hear from several yards away.
Fiona spun her head around toward the sound, falling back at once from the sight of the brown werewolf perched a lethal distance away. Hunter sprung forward, running on hands and feet, crossing the distance in a fraction of the normal time. A scream ripped from the girl’s mouth just as Hunter launched himself at her chest, knocking her to the ground. Instantly she was whimpering, her hands trying to cover her face. But she was no match for Hunter. She was a woman. She was powerless, like all women.
Hunter bared his fangs and slid down so his face was close to her chest where he could hear her heart rapidly beating. With his claws he ripped through her running top, taking flesh away as he did. A muffled scream tried to spill out of her mouth, but he’d anticipated this and slapped a hand over it. They always screamed. All the women he’d murdered had cried the entire time.
Pinning her hands up above her head, he leaned down over Fiona, looking her straight in the eyes. “You didn’t want me and now you’re going to pay. I bet your mother wasn’t even sick, you lying bitch,” he said, his hot breath colliding with her face. A tear peeked from Fiona’s eye just before he released her hands and ran his claws across her pretty little face. And then the werewolf was released to do that which it was born to do. Destroy.
Chapter One
“A gentleman is simply a patient wolf.”
- Lana Turner
The latch to the bathroom stall caught several times before sliding back, allowing Adelaide to exit the cramped space. She hadn’t really needed to relieve herself, but rather was waiting for the lobby restroom to empty of Parantaa Research employees. Why women had to pee in packs was confounding to Adelaide. And the ones who continued chatting between the stall walls, like everyone peeing wanted to hear their lame-ass stories, were the most infuriating women.
Adelaide had headed straight to the door marked “Women” as soon as she’d been granted clearance into the research facility. She’d inadvertently shown up ten minutes early for her first day of work, which wasn’t going to set the right tone. Most dimwits probably thought that a spy infiltrating an organization should blend in and go unnoticed. These are the same buffoons who work for a corporation that creates drugs that tie consumers to pharmaceutical companies forever, making them slaves to the drugs they provide. Drugs are rarely ever solutions. They a
re bandages. The Lucidites knew how to heal, how to actually make people better without putting them in debt for the rest of their lives.
Adelaide had learned from her father, Ren Lewis, that no one ever suspects someone as a spy who disregards rules. It was annoyingly one reason that Adelaide knew that the FBI bitch, Rox, was actually not a spy. She’d flaunted her disrespect for Adelaide like a trophy, which meant she wasn’t trying to hide a hidden agenda. The kiss-ass was always the most suspicious person. And even subconsciously employers knew this. But if an employee exhibits a great deal of insubordination then that becomes the concern, not the fact that they are spying.
From a foot away from the porcelain sink, Adelaide took in her image in the mirror. Her father, if he was in heaven, might be looking down at her right then and not completely repulsed by her appearance. The girl, who was raised in the poorest neighborhoods in London, had to admit that she looked sharp in her light blue blazer and pencil skirt.
Ren wasn’t looking down at Adelaide from heaven or burning in hell though. It was more likely that he was blissfully toiling away his days in the dreamscape as neither alive nor dead. His book, the one in the briefcase by Adelaide’s black heels, had said his death mission was to become someone “in-between.” However, Adelaide had lost her place in the book and hadn’t been able to find that section again, which probably detailed how Ren had done it. The book was as confounding as the man himself.
“Well, wherever you are, Ren, lend me your strength,” Adelaide said to the image of herself. She looked older somehow, like grown-up clothes actually aged her. That was just an illusion though. Everything in reality was a sort of illusion, and lucky for her she was learning how to manipulate what people saw.