Wild Game (Wilding Pack Wolves 1) - New Adult Paranormal Romance

by Alisa Woods

  He was nodding, and a small smile snuck onto his face. “I’m glad you’re finally seeing the truth about that.” Then he gave her an evil leer. “Too bad it’s too late.” He chuckled as he turned his back on her.

  Shit. She’d laid it on too thick‌—‌he was crazy but not stupid.

  He went back to the camera attached to his screen and tapped something into the keyboard. His body blocked the screen, so she couldn’t see what he was doing. After a moment, he turned back to her and slowly strolled back to the cage.

  “I’ve put the feed on a twenty second delay. If you say my name on camera, it’ll be Game Over for you. I’ll hit the kill switch, shut the livestream down, and set the timer to blow you up thirty seconds after I leave the room. So keep quiet. And fucking shift for our audience.”

  He flipped down his mask and turned his back on her again.

  A sick horror crept through her‌—‌her time was very, very limited now. He tapped a few keys, and the camera’s red light came on.

  They were live.

  “Sorry for that brief interruption, folks, but we’re back again, and I promise you the show is just going to get better from here.” He turned back to her and prowled up to the cage. He pointed a finger at her, but also turned so he was facing the camera. “You shifters are denying jobs to ordinary humans. You’re taking over everything, shutting us out because we’re human. Like we’re not fucking good enough. But you are the animals, not us. And now the Wolf Hunter is going to take all of you down.” He spread his arms wide again, embracing his audience.

  The way he was talking about the Wolf Hunter‌—‌it kept striking her as strange. Like maybe he was just a vigilante following the Wolf Hunter’s instructions?

  He turned back to her. “There’s only one way this ends‌—‌you dying for our audience. But the longer you wait, the more pain there will be. Which works well for my audience and for me. It’s time you shifters suffered for what you’ve done. But if you shift now, I promise I’ll actually kill you before I dissect you.” He gave a small smirk to the camera. He was lying completely about that.

  “I’m not doing what you want, no matter what you say.” She was saying it for the audience, too. Because if this was truly streaming, she prayed Brad would find it.

  And come for her.

  She had no idea how he would find her‌—‌she was in a barren basement, no windows, no clues. Her only hope was to hold out until he arrived.

  Her torturer raised his hands again, maniacal glee on his face for the camera. “Oh, I was hoping you might say that, little wolf. You’re not so big and bad after all, are you?”

  He strolled over to the work bench and snatched up the cattle prod again.

  Nova squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed Brad would get there soon.

  Before her resolve gave out, and she let this madman kill her to end the pain.

  Owen was going mad trying to not look at the screen.

  Jace was watching the livestream of Nova’s torture‌—‌almost no one else could bear it. Even he was making low growling sounds almost continuously. He wore headphones so he could hear what was happening without the rest of them‌—‌Owen, Noah, Brad, and Brad’s pack‌—‌having to listen. But someone had to keep watch, partly to make sure Nova was still alive, and partly to scan the livestream image and sounds for clues as to the location of the torture chamber the psycho had constructed for her.

  It was past midnight. Owen would’ve thought no one would be up to watch this kind of sick “entertainment,” but apparently the thing already had thousands of views. Which he really couldn’t think about at all without losing his mind. He had to focus if they were to have any hope of getting her out alive.

  It was all he could do to keep his beast contained.

  “Okay, I’ve got something here,” Noah said, sitting at one of the Wylderide screens. He pointed to a series of images he pulled up on email. “Jaxson says they tracked down the security footage from Nova’s apartment and isolated an image of a blue sedan leaving about the same time Nova was snatched. No other vehicles in or out in a twenty minute time span.”

  “Good.” Owen nodded. “Plates?” He paced next to Noah’s cubicle, unable to stand still. The pacing helped keep his beast from leaping out, too.

  Noah squinted up at him. “Only a partial. Just a couple numbers.”

  Owen’s fists were already curled up, so he shook them out and kept pacing. “Have Riverwise run it through their databases.”

  “On it,” Noah said. “And Jared’s already running his facial recognition thing on the driver. There’s a pretty good view of his face.”

  That stopped Owen in his tracks. “You have a picture?”

  Several of the wolves at desks around him looked up.

  “Yeah.” Noah tapped the keyboard and brought up a fuzzy security-cam image. Owen reached him in two quick strides and stared at the picture. It was black and white, and the face was washed out, but you could definitely make out the features.

  “No mask,” Owen whispered.

  Noah nodded. “Right.”

  Owen clapped a hand hard on his shoulder. “Good work.” Then something jogged his memory‌—‌something Nova said on the livestream. He’d been trying to block it out, but it came rushing back. “She said she knew him. Right before he cut her off.” He hadn’t been able to watch much of the livestream, but he caught that part before he had to temporarily leave the office to smack his face, splash it with water, and get his head in the game.

  “That’s right, she did,” Noah said.

  Owen straightened up and signaled the closest wolf‌—‌he was one of Brad’s pack, but that’s what he needed. “Hey, you! Where’s Brad?”

  Brad’s head popped up from another cubicle, where he was doing what they all were‌—‌trying to find Nova. “What do you want?” he snarled.

  Owen ignored his attitude. He didn’t give a fuck about Brad‌—‌all he cared about was saving Nova. “She said she knew him. And I’ve got a picture of his face. I need all your people over here, looking at it and seeing if you know this maniac.”

  Brad frowned, but then he sprinted over to Owen’s station. “Better yet, I’ll forward it to everyone. We can cross-check it with our personnel records as well.”

  Owen stepped aside and let Brad tap away at Noah’s keyboard.

  Agitation was breathing down Owen’s neck as he waited. Everyone in Brad’s pack went back to their screens, pulling up the email Brad had just sent them.

  “Anyone?” Brad called out after a minute. There were a few rustlings, but mostly silence.

  Fuck. “She said she knew him.” Owen went back to pacing and running a hand through his hair. “Who could she possibly know that would be part of this hate group?”

  “It doesn’t make any sense.” Brad was frowning.

  Owen ignored him. “It’s all a game. That’s what she said.”

  Brad nodded. “And he said this time he was making the rules.”

  Owen froze. “He’s a gamer.”

  “Stalker fan?” Noah guessed from his seat next to the screen. “Maybe someone who didn’t like the fact that shifters were making his favorite game?”

  Brad shook his head, not disagreeing, but like it didn’t make sense. Which it didn’t. “If so, there’s no way we can track that. We have ISP addresses, gamer names, but no pictures. No faces to match.”

  Owen went back to pacing, wearing a short line in the carpet in front of Noah’s cubicle. “A lunatic fan? But how would she know him? Where would she meet him? At a con? A charity event?” He ran both hands through his hair. “Fuck, this doesn’t make sense. Why would Nova recognize some random anti-shifter psycho? No…” He shook his head. “He has to be connected to Wylderide somehow. More intimately. He shut down the livestream feed after she mentioned it. He doesn’t want us to know who he is.”

  “He’s still wearing the mask,” Noah added. “He must think he’s going to get away with this.”

  �
��Because if we knew who he was…” Owen pounded his fists slowly to his forehead. Think, Owen. He stopped and looked up. Both Noah and Brad were watching him. “If we knew who he was, he knows we could find him! You’ve got to have him on file here, somewhere, at Wylderide.”

  Brad scowled. “No one at Wylderide would do this.”

  “A mole? A spy? Come on, man! Think,” Owen growled.

  Brad growled in return but dropped his gaze to stare at the floor. “We haven’t brought on anyone new since the funeral…” He looked up, his eyes wide. “But someone from before that. Someone we didn’t hire. Wylderide gets a ton of applicants. We turn away ninety percent… and we keep intake photos.”

  “Get on it,” Owen growled.

  Brad raised his voice. “Everyone, listen up! We need to search the applicant pool, split up the files, scan them fast. The psycho applied to Wylderide. Move! Nova’s running out of time!” Brad charged out to the middle of the cubicles, directing everyone’s efforts.

  Owen sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut‌—‌it was getting harder to contain his beast, not easier. The more he was reminded that Nova was being tortured right now, the harder it was for him to control.

  “You going to make it?” Noah had appeared at his side.

  “Yes,” he ground out between his teeth.

  A ping came from Noah’s screen. He hurried back to it. “Jared’s got a hit on that plate!” he shouted.

  “Found him!” someone else said, three cubicles down.

  Owen searched for Brad‌—‌he was bent over the man’s screen. “That’s him!” Brad called out. He looked back to Owen. “I’ve got an address on Fireside Lane. Name’s Tommy Rachet. Applied and rejected.”

  Noah nodded furiously. “Jared says the car’s registered to a guy on Fireside Lane, midtown Seattle.”

  Owen whipped his head back up to Brad. “That’s our guy. Let’s go!”

  He was halfway to the elevator before the rest of them were out of their seats.

  The Wylderide pack had a couple vans that could carry everyone at once, and they had quickly loaded up, but they didn’t have weapons. Jace had brought three guns, enough for Owen, Noah, and Jace. Besides, the rest of the pack was too slow.

  Owen tore through downtown Seattle, running lights and swerving around what little nighttime traffic there was. He was driving Jace’s car with Noah riding shotgun, and Jace in the back with a laptop and the livestream. He still had the headphones on, so Owen wouldn’t have to hear Nova’s intermittent screams.

  Hold on, baby girl, I’m coming. He was barely keeping his beast inside, not to mention the sheer panic that was lighting through his veins, terrifying him that he’d be just moments too late.

  “Tell me she’s okay!” Owen shouted back to Jace so he would hear him over the headphones.

  “She’s okay,” Jace said, overly loud. “Hurry,” he added in a growl.

  Owen stomped the accelerator.

  “Turn left here!” Noah shouted, pointing to the light just up ahead.

  Owen took the turn so fast they nearly tipped, but not quite. They skidded, but straightened quick enough, and he stomped the accelerator again.

  “Fuck!” Jace cried out from the back.

  Owen threw him a look. “What? Goddamn it, Jace!”

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” he said, eyes glued to the screen, teeth gritted.

  No, no, no.

  “Two more blocks!” Noah called out.

  Owen gripped the steering wheel so hard he felt it bend under his hands.

  “There!” Noah jabbed a finger toward one of the tiny row houses up ahead, just like all the others they were flying past. “The one with the porch light! I can see the number!”

  Owen drove the car straight up onto the tiny lawn and slammed to a stop. He was out, gun forward, and hauling ass toward the house even before the car had fully stopped. He ran full-on into the door‌—‌it was locked, but the thing was old as dirt and cracked all to hell. He stepped back and kicked at it, once, twice. Jace and Noah arrived at the doorstep and both threw their shoulders into it‌—‌it gave way. Owen shoved past them, scanning the dimly lit house‌—‌it was filled with trash and ancient furnishings and smelled like… it smelled like blood and electrical fire. And death.

  “No,” he breathed out, barreling through the dimness until he found a door with a sliver of light leaking through. The basement. He grabbed the doorknob, ready to yank the door off the hinges‌—‌miraculously, it was unlocked. He threw it open, and with Jace and Noah on his heels, he leaped down the steps four at a time. He tumbled at the bottom, rebounded off the wall, and flew around the corner to the open, concrete-lined room.

  In the center, was Nova. In a cage. Slumped in the corner.

  Dead.

  He roared, and his beast tore loose.

  He lunged for the fucker who had killed her, shifting on the way.

  Nova’s world was one, big, hazy stupor.

  Her brain was so fried from the repeated shocks with the cattle prod, she couldn’t even resist anymore. Or talk back between the bouts of torture. All she could do was save her energy and hope the magic in her blood would keep her from dying. She stayed slumped against the cage bars at the back, curled up as if that would give her protection. Her torturer had slowed down a little. Or maybe she was just losing track of time.

  Hard to tell.

  She must have actually passed out because a roaring sound suddenly jerked her awake. Her vision was fuzzy, but through the narrowed slits of her eyes, she saw a white blur leaping past her cage. It was big and loud and furry. Wolf, her mind said, even as her brain tried to sort out what her eyes were seeing. It charged for Tommy the Tormentor on the far side of the room. He was scrambling for something on his workbench. Just before the giant white wolf reached him, Tommy laid hold of a gun, whipped around, and fired rapidly.

  Three bangs in quick succession weren’t enough to stop the wolf‌—‌it was already leaping for him. The man screamed, and then his screams were cut off abruptly. The wolf had him in its claws… only those claws were… they were a handful of daggers.

  Nova stared in amazement as the wolf sliced Tommy to pieces. Her stomach heaved, but she fought it down. Her shaky hands managed to grab the bars of her cage and drag her body toward the front to get a better look. Her legs had stopped being able to hold her up a while ago.

  Before she could get far, two more men raced past the cage. She had to blink several times before she could recognize them‌—‌one was her cousin Noah, the other a River brother. Jace, the one who married her cousin, Piper. They both had guns out and pointed forward, but she was pretty sure they hadn’t come to kill the white wolf.

  They had come to rescue her.

  The relief almost took her down, and she sagged against the bars again. The white wolf stood over Tommy’s body, which now looked like a puppet that had been torn apart‌—‌all the pieces of it were sort of in the right place, but not attached to one another.

  Her stomach heaved again, but that motivated her to get moving. Closer to the front. Let them know she was still alive.

  Noah and Jace were fixated on the wolf. It teetered and turned toward them‌—‌that was when Nova could see the giant red splashes across its snow white fur, blood seeping out and staining it. Noah put his hands out to the wolf as if to keep it calm.

  “You’re okay, Owen,” he said. “You got this.”

  Owen? The wolf gave a small nod, wearily and not quite evenly, as if it was about to fall over. Nova tried to speak‌—‌only a small peep came out. It was enough to grab Jace’s attention.

  “Holy shit, Nova!” Jace hurried to the cage. “Noah, I need keys for this thing.” Jace tested the door, rattling it and trying to force it open.

  Noah cast his gaze all around the room, looking for keys. “I don’t see anything.” But he kept looking. As he passed the computer, he tapped rapidly on the keyboard. The camera’s red light went out.

  No more reco
rding.

  “Are you okay?” Jace asked her, bringing her blurry-eyed attention back to him. She nodded and tried to mumble something, but all that came out was a moan.

  “Noah, keys. Now!” Jace rattled the bars of the cage even harder.

  Behind him came the wolf‌—‌Owen‌—‌limping toward her and the cage and leaving a bloody trail behind. She gestured to him with a shaky hand, trying to get Jace’s attention so Owen wouldn’t try to move before they could help him. She wasn’t going anywhere, but he could be dying, and he was dragging himself halfway across the floor.

  Jace’s eyes went wide. He stepped back as Owen approached. Owen’s unsteady lumbering finally got him to the cage. He bumped his head against the bars, dipping down so that Nova could reach him. She stuck her hand out and dug her fingers into his fur.

  She fought with her tongue until she could make it behave. “Rest,” she managed to get out.

  Owen eased back out of her reach and gazed at her with crystal blue eyes. In spite of the pained look and the blood smeared all over his white fur, he was the most magnificent wolf she had ever seen. He lifted his snout, waving her back, then he raised his front paws. She got a good look at the blades he had instead of claws and leaned away from the bars. With one fast swipe, his claws sliced right through them. It made a horrible sound of screeching metal, but with two more slashes, he had cut a door right through the side of the cage wall.

  Then he stumbled back, fell hard on his haunches, and shifted back to human. His naked body fell over and smacked on the concrete floor.

  “No!” The strangled sound surged out of her. She reached for him with shaking hands. Jace had to help her climb through the destroyed cage wall.

  “It’s okay,” Jace said to her. “I’ll stitch him up. He’ll be fine. But we need to get him out of here, in case the police show up.”

  Noah hustled up to them with keys in his hands, which were obviously useless now. He threw them to the ground. “The rest of the pack should be here soon,” he said.