by Sarra Cannon
The girl went silent for a minute, trying hard to obey, but then a choked sob broke through the thick afternoon air. The sound tore at Sariel’s heart, reminding her of just how young Angelita was. More so than her fifteen short years, the girl had been sheltered by her pack. Protected. Sariel was a mature shifter who’d seen the good and bad of life come her way, and she could barely hold herself together under the constant fear their situation blanketed her in. Poor Angelita didn’t have a chance…not alone, at least.
Sariel slid out of her bed and snuck across the wood planks, praying she didn’t hit a squeaky spot. The last thing she needed was to draw the attention of the men keeping them in this fetid trash dump they called a houseboat. When she reached Angelita’s bed, she knelt on the rough floor and pulled the sheet back from over the girl’s head. Even in the dim light the filthy windows allowed into the room, Sariel could see the puffiness of Angelita’s eyes, the angry red streaks burning paths down her cheeks. This cry fest had been going on for a while.
Placing a calming hand on Angelita’s shoulder, Sariel leaned over her and whispered, “If they hear you, they’ll come in here. And then things will be worse.”
Angelita nodded and sniffed. “I know.”
“Then why are you crying?”
The girl was quiet for a minute, only the sounds of insects Sariel couldn’t even identify invading the still, humid air. Thick…she’d never known air could actually feel thick. Good Lord, it was like trying to breathe through a wet blanket all the time.
“I’m scared,” Angelita finally admitted. Sariel rubbed her shoulder and inched closer. Angelita’s eyes opened wide, staring at her, making Sariel’s chest hurt with the amount of pain she could see carried behind them. Afraid, alone, and grieving…Sariel could at least try to help with two of those.
“I’m scared too, and with good reason. But tears won’t do nothin’ more than make you weak, and we can’t afford to be weak. We have to be strong right now, little one. Stronger than those men out there.”
“I’m trying. But sometimes…” The girl trailed off, looking at the ceiling. Sariel waited for her to finish her thought, rubbing a hand over her hair to try to calm the young one’s nerves. The weeks spent trapped in this place had been hell on earth for Sariel, but to the girl, who’d lost her entire family and pack when the men holding them had raided her home to snatch her, it must have been pure torture. She had nothing here to cling to and nothing back from where she’d been raised to go home to. That thought always made Sariel’s protective instincts surge. Everyone deserved a place to call home.
After several quiet moments, Angelita took a deep breath, her voice stronger as she said, “Sometimes I remember what they did to my mom and dad, and I can’t decide if I want to hurt them or cry. So I cry, because I can’t hurt them.” Her eyes met Sariel’s, glowing bright, the power of her wolf pushing through her human side. “At least not yet.”
“That’s right,” Sariel said, wishing she could let her own wolf peek out of the cage she’d been keeping her in. She’d learned the hard way not to shift in this place, not to even let her wolf senses free. If she wanted to stay alive, she’d have to do it in her human form, without the help of her greatest ally. “We’ll get them back for what they did to your family.”
Angelita wiped away the last of her tears, sounding small and shy as she whispered, “We’ll get out of here eventually, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sariel said, fighting back her doubts. “There’s no way I’m staying in this hellhole forever.”
“But what about the alligators? That one guy said gators aren’t afraid of wolves.”
Sariel rolled her eyes. “Honey, I’m afraid of a lot of things. Uncontrollable male shifters, knives being thrown, tight spaces, fire ants. But I’m not afraid of some prehistoric throwback swimming around out there in that murky water. I’m from the desert; we got nasty stinging critters and snakes galore.” Sariel pointed toward the far window, the only one that opened to allow fresh air in. “But that out there? That’s our escape, our way to find a new home, our only shot at survival. That’s freedom out there. And no way is some reptile getting in the way of me and freedom.”
“So what do we do?”
“We listen…and we watch. Knowledge is our most powerful weapon, little one. We keep our eyes on these men and figure out what’s what. Like that the dark one can’t smell his own scat, or the tall blond seems to have a little hearing trouble. Stuff like that can be used to our advantage, right?”
Sariel smiled as Angelita nodded. “A little bit longer, and we’ll have our chance. It’s just a matter of time. Those boys out there think they have a couple of delicate petals on their hands. They’ve never truly seen what happens when one of us shows our claws.”
Angelita was quiet for a moment, her lips pursed. “What if they come for us before then, or they split us up?”
Sariel’s stomach dropped. She’d heard a conversation about just that thing the other day. They needed Angelita somewhere up north, and Sariel wasn’t needed at all anymore. She’d never thought her being sterile would be a good thing, but having been kidnapped by a group who only wanted her so they could breed her had changed her mind in a hurry. Every day, she thanked the stars for that little biological defect. But Angelita wasn’t as lucky. The men had left her alone so far, other than to tease and torment the child, but she knew that would end once they got her to wherever they were planning to take her. Angelita was in serious danger, and Sariel could only hope they’d be able to escape together before it all came to a head.
Doing her best to keep her face calm and clear of the worry eating her up from the inside, Sariel tucked the dirty sheet around Angelita’s shoulders. “Don’t go borrowing trouble, now. We have three things to do—watch, wait, and plan. If we do that, we get out. Period.”
Angelita nodded, snuggling into Sariel’s side. The two lay quiet and still, listening to the chorus of insects buzzing away. Frogs croaked and splashed, birds screamed, and alligators roared in the distance. Something Sariel would never get used to. And God, she didn’t even want to think about being there long enough to get used to it.
“What do you want to do when you get out of here?” Angelita asked, breaking the heavy non-silence.
“Besides shower for a whole day?” Sariel winked and smiled, the two of them both uncomfortable with their lack of bathing options. “I want food…real food. And I’d like to find myself a handsome shifter to hold on to for a few hours.”
The girl giggled, reminding Sariel of how young she really was. Not just in years, but how inexperienced and immature she could be. The princess of her pack, Angelita was the epitome of a sheltered young woman. Too old to be a child, not yet ready to be a woman. Trapped in the in-between where emotions ran strong and every disappointment seemed to bring on the end of the world. Sariel hoped she could help her get out of this place, to give her the chance to grow up a bit more somewhere safe and secure. Somewhere they’d honor her and protect that innocence as they introduced her slowly to what it meant to be a woman.
But even knowing how careful she needed to be, Sariel wasn’t going to lie to the girl. Not about her hopes for when they escaped. If it made Angelita blush, so be it. She’d understand the draw of big, strong arms wrapping around her one day.
“And when I’m clean,” Sariel said, grinning at Angelita’s blush and looking up at the ceiling. “When my belly’s full and I’ve kicked that nice shifter back to where he came from, I want to go north.”
Angelita snuggled closer, tangling their legs together for the comfort of touch. “Why north?”
Sariel shrugged, trying to hide the wet burning in her eyes and the way her hands shook. “I’ve never seen snow, and I think I might like to.”
Angelita grew quiet, her face serious as she stared at Sariel in a way that made her think the young one knew why she wanted to see snow. Just once. Because the fact that she’d been kidnapped and brought out to this hellhole in the
bayou had put the possibility that her life may end on the front burner in her mind. She was in trouble, and so was Angelita. If Sariel got out of this mess, she was doing all the things she’d put off before the night those men stormed into her home. She was doing all the things she’d ever wanted to so that she didn’t feel as if she was missing anything. She was living the life she’d always dreamed of, whether her pack liked it or not.
Chapter 6
The late winter sun blazed bright in the western sky as Bez pulled up outside the lake house. The place looked surprisingly well kept considering how long it had sat empty, though there was a definite air of abandonment to the property. Not that Bez cared much for whether the house was visually pleasing—the location sat close enough to where the Omega was being hidden to use for a stronghold. That detail outweighed any other factors. Hell, Bez would have picked a hunting platform in a tree if he’d had to.
Like all of Blaze’s personal properties, the lake house offered privacy, sitting far enough from any other houses to keep nosy neighbors away. A necessity when dealing with men who could turn into wolves at the drop of a hat. Positioned on a slight hill and looking over one hundred yards of grass in the three directions away from the lakefront, there was no way to stage an attack on the single-story home without being seen or heard first. An easily defendable location that, if the records Bez had read about the property were still accurate, was filled with weaponry and emergency evac supplies…exactly what he needed.
He used the keypad lock by the garage door to gain access to the house, satisfied with the steel fire doors. They wouldn’t necessarily keep a shifter out if he wanted in, but they’d slow him down and make his entrance loud instead of stealthy. Perfect for those inside the house.
As expected, the kitchen contained numerous containers filled with non-perishable food and bottled water. Enough for three people to survive for a couple of months at least. Blaze didn’t do anything halfway. Bez grabbed a bag of beef jerky and continued through the house, sniffing out every possible hiding place and peeking behind every door.
After almost an hour of investigating, he found the closet filled with guns and weaponry. Shotguns and automatic rifles stood at the ready, and large metal drawers housed ammunition, handguns, and explosives. In a bottom drawer, Bez found his personal favorite. Large, flat brass rings lay on a wooden support with a dowel shooting through the center. Designed off the Indian throwing rings known as chakrams, the rings practically glowed in the light, beautiful and polished to a sheen. A very deadly sheen. Thaus, the weaponry expert of the group, had taken ancient chakrams and reworked them to fit the hunting style of the Dire Wolves. Light and easy to throw, the rings fit across the width of Bez’s hand. Perfectly weighted for flight. Perfectly sharpened to cut through even the thickest of enemy flesh in near silence.
Bez made note of the weaponry choices at his disposal before moving toward the large metal box brushing the rafters of the space. Like a shipping container made of highly polished steel, the box sat in the attic along with the closet of weapons. Both accessible only by a pull-down ladder tucked inside an access panel in the ceiling of the back hallway of the house. The attic was nearly airtight, making it difficult for even a shifter with Bez’s strong senses to get a read on what was up there. Even with the access panel opened, Bez could hardly smell the scents of the floor below him.
The box turned out to be a simple but secure safe room. With a thick steel ceiling, armored walls, and keypad entry door, there was no way even someone as strong as a wolf shifter was getting into the metal box without being let in. The perfect spot to stash the Omega while Bez and his team hunted the shifters who’d taken her. But first, he had to find her and get her out of the swamp. Alive.
The ringing of Bez’s phone interrupted his investigation of the house. He snorted when he saw the name of the incoming caller.
“What’s up, old man?” Bez asked.
Deus, one of his Dire Wolf brethren sighed. “Fuck off, kid. At this point, the fact that you’re two weeks younger than me is a nonissue.”
Bez walked through the living and dining rooms, pacing, anxious. “What’s doing?”
“Why the fuck are you down in Louisiana?”
“You stalking me again?” Bez shook his head. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Deus had every one of the guys outfitted with chips in their phones and cars. Mammon liked to joke that the man would have them all microchipped like some human’s dog next.
“Nah, just got a ping from one of the lake houses down there, and it coincided with your GPS location. Figured you were gator hunting or some shit.”
Bez spun in place, wondering what door or motion detector had set off a notification to Deus. “Negative. Got a mission from Blaze.”
“Anything you need me for?”
“Not yet. I’ve got a pocket full of chakrams and Mammon chilling in the wings.”
“All right, then. Call if you need us.” Deus hung up, not giving Bez a chance to reply. The man never did stay on any one subject long, too busy with his computers to bother with people.
Bez finished his snack and drank two bottles of water, fully fueled and antsy to start his search. His wolf had been pawing at him all day, the call of the swamp too much to resist. The animal within needed to hunt, to find, to destroy. Those were his goals, his mission. There was no way he was stopping to rest or coming back empty-handed. He’d hunt through the swampy land for days if he needed to.
After securing the property, Bez stripped on the covered porch. The sun had dropped a bit in the last hour, marking the time as late afternoon. A time when wolves liked to be lazy and sleep. Bez could take advantage of the wolf’s natural tendencies to do a little recon on the camp in the bayou, once he found it. And he would find it. There was no doubt in his mind. Blaze hadn’t sent him on this mission without reason. Bez was a natural tracker, a longtime soldier in Blaze’s army, and a Dire Wolf. Bigger, badder, and stronger than any other wolf shifters out there. If Blaze wanted him to find the Omega, he would find her. Failure was not an option.
Stretching one last time, Bez shifted to his wolf form, shaking out his fur as his paws landed on the wood planks of the porch. His senses heightened, and his brain quickly caught up with the extra input. This was it, his first chance to find the camp. He wouldn’t stop searching until he had their location pinned down. With nothing more than a chuff, he took off across the green grass, heading for the woods.
Heading off to hunt.
Chapter 7
After two days and nights of scenting his way through bogs and along the banks of what seemed like an endless maze of rivers, Bez’s patience finally paid off. He lay still at the base of a tree, the fur of his wolf completely covered in sticky, putrid-smelling mud. Fifty yards away sat a string of four houseboats tied together. Houseboats reeking of shifters and the decay of the swamp.
Bez spent hours curled around that tree, not moving, barely breathing as he closed off the human side of his mind and let his wolf take over. He sensed six male wolves, though only two seemed to be on the houseboats that day. The other four had left a scent trail through the brush on the spongy shore across from him. He could still see the broken grass and raised edges along the impressions in the mud from their footfalls. Bez also scented two females in residence, both shifters. The second woman concerned him, as she could be one of the male’s mates. Bez had never had to kill a woman who wasn’t actively trying to kill him. As progressive as he thought himself to be, the idea of killing a female just didn’t sit right. But a mated pair was hard to split up, and a mated wolf would fight to the death for its other half. Bez would have to wait and see if he could determine her involvement in the outfit.
The females stayed quiet through the early afternoon, rarely even speaking, while the males watched some show on a television in the far left boat. Staying still in his spot, only moving enough to make sure his wolf scent stayed buried under the rot of the swampy earth he covered himself in, Bez studied the
setup of the enemy camp as he waited for late afternoon to come. One of the men seemed to be the leader, the hub of communication. Message alerts, phone calls, instructing his partner—the man was a bevy of information. He would be Bez’s target for phase two of the mission. First, rescue the Omega. Second, capture the enemy for interrogation. That part would require he call in another of his teammates for backup, which he’d do as soon as he got the Omega back to the lake house and into that safe room. Now that he’d found her, he wasn’t leaving her behind. He couldn’t risk them moving her or hurting her, especially not when he was so close.
As the sun crested across the sky on a slow arc toward the invisible horizon, one man walked across the boats to the one where the women stayed. Short and squat with a choppy gait, he appeared weak to Bez—an easy kill—but Bez wouldn’t underestimate him. Something had given these men the strength to take on and destroy an entire pack, whether it was skill or training or the possibility of a werewolf on their side. That feat was enough to make Bez wary.
The man lumbered up the three steps to the women’s boat, stopping on the deck to look out over the water. To look exactly in the direction where Bez lay. Bez stared back, not moving, barely breathing. He had made sure to cover himself in the fetid mud of the swamp, so he doubted the man knew he was there. Between the mud and the way Bez had tucked himself against the tree, there was no way the shifter on the boat could see him or smell him. Still, he made sure to be ready to leap into a fight, just in case.
“Yo, Marcus.”
Bez turned his eyes toward the second man as he appeared from inside the far left houseboat. This one, tall and lean, carried himself in a manner that made Bez’s wolf take notice. Something dark and devious lurked under the surface of that shifter, and he was definitely more of a threat than the other.
The short shifter, Marcus apparently, turned. “What’s up?”
“The guys will be back soon; they’ve got the beast with them.”