by Sarah Noffke
Daisy loved to garden. Hunter grunted at the gross irony of it. He watched as she bent over in her front yard to retrieve a crate of purple flowers. From the car parked across the street, he shouldn’t be able to see the details of her yard and the calm expression on her face so clearly. However, the wolf always loaned him its superior vision, smell, and hearing. He stroked his hand over the wheel of the stolen Audi SUV when she stood, her halter top making her torso visible. He’d have to discard the vehicle tonight. It was never safe to hold onto a stolen car for long. Maybe he’d race the SUV down the 101 freeway before abandoning it. Maybe he’d even slam it into some stuff.
Hunter’s ears picked up on a high-pitched hum. Daisy was singing as she shoveled dirt from the earth. She had always hummed while she worked. It was an infuriating sound that he used to be forced to listen to all through the workday.
When Daisy beat him out of the promotion at the bank, they’d said it was because she was a better fit as assistant manager. Hunter knew the truth. It was because people liked her kiss-ass nature and fake smile. They probably even liked her awful humming. He wasn’t perky and that’s why he, as a teller, had been passed over for a promotion yet again. But it didn’t matter, because working at the bank had given him enough information to figure out how to rob the place. It would have worked too, but fucking Daisy got suspicious when Hunter went back in after hours, saying he’d left his keys. She was the one who caught him. The one who hit the button. She was the reason he’d gone to prison. And she was going to die for it. Very soon.
Chapter Seventeen
“The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep’s throat, for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act as the destroyer of liberty.”
- Abraham Lincoln
“You overturned a fucking van in broad daylight in Dallas!” Adelaide said, launching her hand in the air. Rio had dream traveled back to the Institute and generated his body on the GAD-C so he could give the Lucidites a full report. Thankfully, Zephyr and Connor would be back soon because someone needed to stop Adelaide from murdering Rio.
“I actually thought it was the least violent approach. I could have pummeled all of those men in the streets. Don’t the Lucidites promote a less violent strategy?” Rio said, over the snickering at the back of the room. The FBI whore was in her usual position, sitting on the top of the conference room table and in her usual getup, a jumper that was both too short and too tight. Adelaide darted her eyes over to Rox, who apparently thought Rio’s public display was hilarious and not a huge cluster fuck that the Lucidites would have to cover up.
“You know, Lucien has a few jumpers he’s outgrown if you want them,” Adelaide said to the Rox. Who, besides babies and toddlers, wore onesies?
“How would you know what your son has outgrown? Delinquent moms usually don’t know much about their offspring,” Rox said, sticking out her tongue at Adelaide like a fucking child.
Instead of replying, Adelaide picked up the silver ballpoint pen beside her book and began spinning it in her fingers and thumb. Over and over she let the pen glide across her hand in a rhythmic fashion until the pen was a blur. Forty-five seconds later she heard a thump and looked up to find Rio’s head on the conference table. Rox’s eyes were glassed over and she looked seconds away from passing out as well.
“All right, Little Red. That’s not nice,” Kaleb said, striding into the room.
Her concentration broken, she stopped rotating the pen, giving him a heavy sigh. “Thanks a lot, Runt. I almost had her toppled over,” Adelaide said.
Rox shook her head, a confounded expression on her face.
“You know, you can’t just make people pass out when they piss you off,” Kaleb said, yanking the pen out of her hand, their fingers touching as he did.
“That’s exactly what my bloody powers afford me. And I’m the only naughty Lucidite and therefore have to keep the balance,” Adelaide said, examining the thoughts that passed over to her when Kaleb touched her hand.
He tucked the pen behind his ear. “So I was thinking—”
“We all know you don’t think,” Adelaide said, cutting Kaleb off. “And this isn’t the perfect place to blow off therapy. Get your ass there and deal with your trauma or I’m pulling you off all cases.”
“I wasn’t…” Kaleb said, his mouth falling open and his words stopping short. “How do you know all that?”
“When is everyone going to realize that I know every-fucking-thing?” Adelaide said, noticing Rio stir. Rox shook her head, her short blonde hair swinging in her face. She focused her attention back on Kaleb. “Look, witnessing your father’s death is a horrible thing and you need to process it. Don’t run from the pain or it’s going to corrupt you.” Those words, that advice, burned Adelaide’s mouth as she said them. She needed to take her own advice, but when was there time to process? She’d worked nonstop since Ren’s death.
“Yeah,” Kaleb said, dropping his eyes to the ground. “I guess you’re right.”
“What happened?” Rio said, pushing his head up.
“I have no idea,” Adelaide said just as the other mutts entered the conference space, Zephyr fist bumping Kaleb on his way out.
A guy, who looked so far pushed into himself, strode just behind Connor. His green eyes carried an uncomfortable fear in them that almost seemed contagious.
“Welcome, David Sanders,” Adelaide said. “I’m guessing these rejects filled you in on your trip here?” She waved her hand at Connor and Zephyr.
The guy nodded. He was as tall as Zephyr, but didn’t stand straight like him.
“Good, then let’s skip introductions. You all can play in the dog park later. I’ve got to get out of here soon and therefore let’s get straight to business,” Adelaide said.
“She has a warm personality that matches her hair,” Rox said, looking to have recovered from being hypnotized.
“Shut it, Hooker Shoes. I’ll get to you later, so try and stay awake. I know you were up all night earning a living at the strip club so try and look alive,” Adelaide said, her focus returning to David. “Snow. You can create snow, is that right?”
He nodded again, not looking capable of actually producing words like a human should.
“Oh good, you’re a fucking snowman and seem to have the personality to match,” Adelaide said, shaking her head at the newbie.
“He can make snow flurries. How scary is that? Nothing defeats a villain like sprinkling them with lovely snowflakes,” Rox said.
“If the ladies aren’t abusing us then they feel insufficient,” Zephyr said to David. “Don’t take it personal. It’s their coping mechanism.”
David released an uncomfortable laugh and another nod. Did this guy have the capacity to talk?
“And you,” Adelaide said, turning her attention on Connor. “Fire, huh?”
Connor scratched his head, remorse spilling out of his every movement. The way he averted his eyes instantly said so much. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to…” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Oh, well it looks like you’ll have more to talk about in therapy. Try not to sweat it. You were defending Zephyr, according to Rio. We all have to kill someone at some point,” Adelaide said.
“Have you?” he said, his eyes reaching up to meet hers. There was something in him she wanted to fix. Needed to. But not right then. Maybe never.
“Hell no. I’m not a bloody sinner,” she said with a laugh. Inside, though, she felt actually sympathetic for Connor. It must have been crazy to randomly have fire shoot from his hand. It was probably as confusing as when Adelaide first used mind control, but had no idea that’s what she was doing. It looked as if he was matching her, keeping up with her monster characteristics.
Adelaide turned to Zephyr. “Well, it appears that elements seem to be a strong part of your pack.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be diving deeper into this to research what it co
uld mean. I think that we might also be able to locate a pack member if we hone in on abnormal weather patterns,” Zephyr said. He had grown stronger as the alpha since they’d rescued him. Adelaide recognized that he’d defaulted to the higher authority, the Lucidites, initially. However, now he seemed natural leading the pack. And they no doubt respected him. Actually the way the pack worked together was inspiring. It was something foreign to Adelaide since she’d never been a team player.
“That’s not a bloody awful idea,” she said. “Meanwhile the Lucidites will be erasing memories of people who witnessed your public displays of violence and showing off.” Adelaide threw an offensive glance at Rio.
“Hey, we got David. That’s what you wanted,” Rio said, flinging his hands up like in surrender.
“Yeah, and the invisible man is dead. That’s one less worry,” Zephyr said.
“But there’s still an invisible woman out there,” Adelaide said. “And who knows what else Mika is creating right now. That’s why I’m off to Parantaa Research. I’ll be gone for the week.”
She met Connor’s eyes and caught the silent worry. It made itself most apparent in the way he held his mouth, like he wanted to say something but was holding back.
“Hey, Nail Polish,” Adelaide said, swinging her eyes over to Rox. “I want you studying the rabid wolf attacks. Find the correlations between the victims and figure out where he’s headed next. We can’t have this fucker out there any longer. And I can’t be expected to do every bloody thing myself, so make yourself useful.”
“You got it. I’ll work the case, and we both know I’ll do a hell of a lot better job than you. And I’ll actually look good doing it,” Rox said.
“Slutty. You’ll look slutty doing it,” Adelaide said. “It’s sad that you don’t know what simple words mean.”
“Do you have protection or a backup at Parantaa Research if things go wrong?” Zephyr said, for the first time sounding protective of her.
“I can control people with my fucking mind. I think I’ll be all right, Zeppy,” she said, not daring to mention that her mind control didn’t work on Mika. The truth was that she should have a backup, but telling Trent that was the same as telling him she wasn’t good enough. Adelaide was just starting to feel adequate. She couldn’t diminish that.
“Right,” Zephyr said, turning his gaze to David, who stood frozen. Being dumped into this world was no doubt threatening his sanity. He’d survive. They’d all acclimated to the Lucidite world eventually.
“Aiden is revamping the reverse conversion procedures. I want you to assign one of your puppies to undergo the procedure, but be sure to review their files carefully when you choose. We can’t take chances,” Adelaide said to Zephyr. “Maybe just throw Connor through it. The worst it could do is fry his brain and since he doesn’t have one, we’re good there.”
“Sorry to see you leave, Addy. Bye,” Connor said, turning his back on Adelaide, dismissing her at once.
Chapter Eighteen
“For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.”
- Rudyard Kipling
Malcolm Edwards knew what women wanted. They wanted someone who was good to look at, charming, and had a big stack of chips. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as good at blackjack as he was at roulette, which roughly meant that he didn’t know how to turn his telekinesis in his favor in order to win that game.
He stared down at his chips. Ten dollars. That’s all he had left after three separate wins at the roulette table. He could blame his poor blackjack skills on the major losses following the wins. Maybe he could make it an even four wins. Or maybe he should find another casino. He’d have to take a taxi since the rum was making it difficult to even sit up straight.
A blonde on his right laughed. She leaned back in her seat, clapping a hand to her chest, giggling at something her friend on the other side of her said. Malcolm paged his finger to the right in the air, sliding up her skirt as he did, revealing a bit more of her thigh. Telekinesis was really the perfect skill for him. No, he didn’t like turning into the werewolf weekly, but the benefit was almost worth it. And the desert was an easy place for a werewolf to roam and hunt. Although he was fairly tired of rodents and reptiles. They tasted like trash and usually upset his stomach in the morning.
Leaning forward, across the place where the blonde sat, Malcolm tapped the table in front of her friend. “Hey, I have a question for you,” he said to the brunette, whose face was flushed from laughing.
“What’s that?” she said, looking at him. He knew women considered his mocha skin and green eyes attractive. What they liked even more was his charm.
“I have to know. Is it hard being friends with such a ridiculously gorgeous woman?” he said, leaning back and catching the heat burn on the blonde’s cheeks.
Both girls burst into nervous laughs, the blonde covering her mouth as she did.
“Later, ladies,” Malcolm said, pushing away from the table. Maybe he’d swing by and see them again later after he made money, make the blonde further endeared to him. His legs swayed slightly when he stood. Walking to the roulette table might prove harder than he initially thought. If only he could bring the table to him, he considered. And as drunks are prone to do, he acted on his impulsive idea. People screamed around the roulette table as it lurched in Malcolm’s direction. The dealer reached for the table as it sped forward.
“Earthquake,” someone yelled.
The room sprung into chaos at once as people rushed for safety. No one seemed to notice that nothing was moving except for the roulette table. They were probably imagining that the casino was shaking all over based on the commotion. Gamblers ran for the exit, knocking into each other as they did.
The roulette table jerked to a halt. There wasn’t going to be any point in playing without a dealer to hand out the winnings. And furthermore, Malcolm was pretty certain that he could neither walk to the table nor bring it to him. His head swam in a sea of fuzzy images just as he found an empty seat at a poker table. His hand had just barely met the felt when his head crashed down to meet it. Sleep. He just needed to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
“Every wolf’s and lion’s howl / Raises from Hell a human soul.”
- William Blake
“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Rox said, striding beside Zephyr. He looked like he had more color in his face since he returned from Dallas. That was probably just her though. She was always noticing new things about Zephyr, like that he licked his thumb before doing the most random things. Before pushing her hair behind her ear. Before turning off the light switch. Before rolling his eyes at her, which he did presently.
“I’m fairly certain you’ll be the death of me, woman,” he said, hiding a grin.
“I’m hoping to be,” she said, enjoying the tense look he gave her. They both knew this game wasn’t sustainable. Last night they’d discussed it. Rox had every intention of quitting the FBI and getting a full-time position with the Lucidites. It’s where she belonged, and the claustrophobic feel of the Institute, absent of windows or an easy way to escape, didn’t bother her as it should have. Nothing about the Institute bothered her. Nothing there triggered her old fear, the one connected to being locked up overnight. That meant to her that she’d finally found a home away from home. And soon she’d purchase that other home, the cottage at the top of a mountain somewhere.
“Any progress with finding a lead on the rabid wolf?” Zephyr asked.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. Do you have a connection with the weres?” she asked.
He halted in the hallway, his eyes turning serious. “Why would you ask that?”
She stuck her hand on her hip as she hitched it up, a victorious smile on her face. “I thought so. I notice that you shift a little as each is returned to the pack,” Rox said.
He flinched with annoyance. “I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, stop lying. S
o my point is that I think you’re emotionally tied to the weres,” she said.
“That might be true. I did sense when something happened to Orion and Hugo,” Zephyr said, combing his hand through his hair.
“What do you sense about Hunter Smith? He’s the one Adelaide identified as the possible rabid wolf,” Rox said.
Zephyr stared just over Rox’s shoulder, his gaze loose. “I don’t know. I feel angry, I think. Mostly at women. Mostly at ones who have done me wrong,” he said, his focus returning to her and his face shifting, growing more neutral. “But the feeling leaves as soon as I think of someone else.”
“As I thought,” she said, turning in the opposite direction of Aiden’s lab, where they’d been headed. “I think you have a connection to the members of the pack that we can tap into for clues. I’m going to go look up the victims and see if I can find a correlation.”
“Yeah, okay,” Zephyr said, his voice distant.
Rox turned, still headed in the other direction. “Hey, Z,” she said.
“What?” he said, glued in place.
“Remember you have this connection. That you can feel things about the members of your pack. You should use it,” she said.
How was it that someone who looked like a plastic Barbie doll and half the time seemed to share a brain with one, also had incredible insights regularly? Rox often made astute observations that stole Zephyr’s breath for a moment. How had she known that he felt a connection to the werewolves? Zephyr had barely made the connection, only when Orion and Hugo died. However, now that he considered it he realized he felt things when he thought of each of the werewolves. He felt Kaleb’s grief. Rio’s loyalty. Connor’s secret. And he had less concrete feelings about the other werewolves that he hadn’t met yet, but still there was something there, something that could become tangible with practice.