North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  “No shit,” Christian marveled softly. The girl was shuffling down the hall, past the common room, her movements agonizingly slow. She was a sickly thing, her form so spare it shouldn’t have been able to hold her up, with lanky, pale-brown hair hanging in tangles and the most pitiful expression on her empty face that he’d ever seen. She was dead already. She just had to convince her body.

  “Well fuck.” He slumped down in the chair, shooting one last look at the girl before she moved from his sight.

  “Of course no one believed her,” Jones went on. “Her mom just excused her ramblings as stress. It wasn’t until she slit her wrists that the old lady had her committed. And she’s been here ever since. Near four years, now.”

  The visitor’s area was just as ugly as the rest of the hospital. It was pink. Whatever idiot made that decision should have been shot and dismembered, because it was downright horrid. Especially with the wicker furniture.

  The minute Eben came through the door of the hospital, Christian’s worries flew out the window and he forgot about his appalling surroundings. Neither of them said a word or paid any attention to the nurses watching with interest as they greeted each other, but when Eben made the slightest gesture, Christian leapt at him, hugging him as tightly as he could manage.

  “You smell like shit,” Eben growled, releasing Christian and looking him over quickly.

  Christian smiled. “I missed you too.”

  Eben would be pack leader, Lead Alpha, when it came time. Christian knew it, the whole pack knew it. Hell, Eben knew it. But that wasn’t why he was so careful when dealing with him. Christian made sure he was careful because Eben was the one Were he truly feared.

  He was a big man, and an even bigger Were. With thick arms, and a massive chest and back, he could uproot small trees with no problem. Christian had seen him do it. But his strength wasn’t the scariest thing about him. Everything frightening about Eben lived in his eyes, and it was enough to make Jack the Ripper turn tale and run.

  Eben was a bona fide killer, no matter how quiet and reassuring he appeared to the masses. It was a façade, a mirage, put on to fool anyone who wasn’t Were, or shrewd enough to see the determination in his jaw and the strength in his eyes. Christian had witnessed the destructive force when Eben rose triumphant from a challenge with Andy Kaville. Andy was a strong Were, stronger than most any Christian had seen, and arrogant about it, using his strength to take the women he wanted and bully the Weres. Eben had killed him, and left the challenge ring with Andy’s blood in his mouth and coating his muzzle. The whole thing hadn’t even lasted five minutes.

  No one knew what pack he came from, or who his parents were. Connor made no bones about finding him in Turkey when he was fifteen, but it was clear there was more than just Turkish blood in his veins. His eyes were pale blue, a blue so cold it made glaciers seem warm. The color came from somewhere, but if he knew, Eben never spoke of it.

  With a slight shake of his head, Christian pulled himself back to business and led Eben past the wicker furniture, through the double doors, and to the quiet hallway just beyond. After making sure they were pretty much alone, except for the wacko screaming at the walls halfway down the hall, he handed the drawing over. It was a good sketch. With the wolf’s lip lifted in a snarl and its piercing eyes, it was as accurate a picture of a Were as he’d ever seen.

  Eben stared down at the picture and said only one word. “Who?”

  Christian slid his hands in his jeans pockets and hunched his shoulders. “A girl, locked up in the women’s ward. Gwen Branson. Everyone’s sure she’s crazy.”

  Eben’s light eyes narrowed, but his voice came out cool and smooth. “I want to meet her.”

  Christian sighed. “Yeah, I thought you would.”

  Christian had a lie all ready to go as he walked up to the nurse’s station to get buzzed into the women’s ward. And it was a good one. A real work of art. But he didn’t get to use it.

  The nurse was young, obviously new, and was more than a little frazzled by the other three people who were already standing in front of her, two of them a set of parents, and the other a husband wanting to visit his wife. All of them were yelling at her, demanding to be let in even as she tried to dig out admit slips and verify identification. When Christian showed up she practically started crying, and with shaking hands, buzzed the door open.

  Christian shook his head but followed the parents into the ward. The husband stayed and continued to bitch the nurse out.

  “That was easier than I expected,” Eben commented.

  Christian nodded as he led the way down the hall. “No shit.” Someone should complain about the lax security, but it wasn’t going to be him.

  The halls were quiet in the women’s ward. Christian figured most of the occupants were in the common area, talking and watching TV. But like the men’s ward, there were video cameras recording activity in the halls, and no doubt the nurses and doctors felt their safety and that of their patients was ensured by the technology. If he’d felt like hanging around longer, Christian would have loved to educate them on the fallibility of cameras.

  Her door was wide open. Christian peered in, curious. It wasn’t very large, but then none of the rooms were. There was a single window, barred, and a desk settled in front of it, the surface of which was covered with art supplies and paper. The door to the closet was open, revealing a tiny amount of space, just barely adequate for storing her meager collection of street clothes and shoes. Drawings were pasted to her walls. Some were sketches of patients and nurses, and others of unoccupied rooms filled with bare furniture and shadow. Some of the drawings were done as realistically as possible, while others were so abstract it was difficult to tell what the subject was. Not one of them was a picture of a Were.

  The bed sat in the center of the room, the headboard butting up against the wall, and the girl lay in it, completely still. Eben inhaled sharply, and like a feral creature, zeroed in on the still form. Christian followed his lead, and studied her. She was tiny, appearing frail against the white sheets. She would have been pretty if she was a healthy weight and actually saw the sun.

  “They’ve got the poor thing so drugged up she can’t tell what’s what,” he murmured, stepping into the room more and looking closer at her drawings. She had a good hand, and did especially well with the charcoals. It was too bad she was locked up, even if she was crazy.

  Eben inhaled deeply again, his body so tense Christian was amazed it didn’t fracture into a million pieces. “What?”

  Eben rolled his eyes up, a snarl on his lips. As Christian watched, his eyes shifted from human to Were. “I want her.”

  “I hope you’re kidding because that’s really not funny. We’re in a hospital. You can’t just fuck a woman while she’s out of it.” Christian looked from Eben, to the girl, and back again.

  “She’s my mate!”

  His voice was going guttural, but Christian still understood. And it nearly knocked him over.

  He raked a hand through his hair, agitation running thick through his veins. Mate? This tiny human was supposed to be Eben’s mate? The idea was as preposterous and crazy as the girl supposedly was. And mates were damn hard to find, but who in hell ever thought Eben’s would be human? And insane? “She tried to kill herself. She slit her wrists, Eben. She’s not exactly stable.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to come up with something. “Are you sure? Her system’s so screwed up with the drugs, it’s nearly impossible to get a good scent from her. Are you absolutely sure?”

  Going completely still, Eben cocked his head and asked darkly, “Are you questioning me?”

  Christian’s blood jumped in warning. Solemnly, he said, “No Alpha. I do not question you.”

  His pale blue eyes, still canine in shape, followed every one of Christian’s movements, and it made him even more nervous. For some reason, Eben had always been far more feral than most Weres. And that meant he was that much more dangerous.

  “We’re t
aking her with us.”

  Christian sighed. “Fuck.”

  They took her that night.

  It was relatively easy getting in, mostly because the building itself was old, and no one had bothered with any security precautions on the basement level, where Christian broke in. The electrical system was as old as the building. It was housed in the back of the supply room, completely surrounded by boxes of medical supplies. Not a very safe place. It should have had its own locked room, and by the look of the fuses, it should have been overhauled years ago.

  He took care of that gleefully. He smashed the metal housing, ripped out the wires, and then for good measure, broke the fuses.

  Only when he was completely satisfied with his vandalism did he saunter back to the basement door and pull it open for Eben, who had absolutely no hope of squeezing through the same small, ground-level window Christian had.

  “Do come in,” he said regally, holding the door like any well-trained butler. “I believe we have an appointment for a kidnapping.”

  Eben glared at him but came in.

  Even before they got to the steps, Christian could hear the sound of dozens of feet running overhead. With the electrical system ruined, there’d be no lights, the cameras would be out, and the security locks on the doors would be disabled.

  When they came to the top of the steps, Christian smiled in satisfaction. It was just as he expected—complete and utter chaos.

  The orderlies were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, patients scrambled to escape, and the rent-a-cops tried to find out what had gone wrong. It was beautiful.

  “Well done,” Eben murmured, stepping out of the stairwell and leading the way down the hall. When one of the orderlies stopped in front of him, demanding to know his business, Eben merely pushed him back. But just that little movement was enough to send the man flying. Wordlessly, they continued on their way.

  The girl was still in her room, sleeping as deeply as before. Eben wrapped her in a blanket while Christian took all her pictures off the walls and shoved her things into a garbage bag.

  “I’m assuming we’re not going out the way we came,” Christian muttered, grabbing the last of her drawings from the desk.

  “We’re leaving out the window.”

  “Of course we are.” Christian dropped the garbage bag to the floor and leaned over the desk. The window was painted shut, but that was easily taken care of with one heave. The bars took a little more effort. He had to sit on the desk and kick them out.

  He shoved the desk away, and then dropped the garbage bag out the window. He was all prepared to swing his leg through when a nurse popped her head inside the door, saw Eben with his arms full, and opened her mouth to scream.

  They both reacted at once. Eben slammed the door shut with his shoulder and Christian crossed the room and slapped his hand over her mouth. He barely noticed her struggles as he held her off the ground and tried to come up with a plan.

  “What should I do with her?”

  A smile twitched at Eben’s lips as he shifted the girl in his arms. “What do you usually do with them?”

  Christian groaned. “What, you want me to fuck her until she falls asleep? This isn’t the time, Eben.” He glanced down at the nurse. “And she isn’t the right woman for that. She’s sort of…sour looking.”

  “It’s kind of funny, isn’t it? I don’t often get to see you with a woman you don’t know what to do with.”

  “Well let’s be amused later. Right now, I have to figure out what to do with her.”

  They stashed her in the closet. Christian felt a moment of guilt, but then shoved it aside as he blocked the closet door with the bed. She was probably safer in there than out in the halls anyway, where patients were running amok.

  He went out the window first, and then took the girl when Eben handed her down. There were no floodlights outside, since those too had been running off the main electrical unit. He felt kind of proud that he’d brought the place to its knees in such a completely simple and easy way. Maybe the assholes would think about updating their facilities now that they knew how vulnerable they really were.

  Eben took Gwen Branson back once he’d squeezed through the window and landed silently beside them.

  “Let’s go.”

  Christian nodded and loped off, sticking close to the building as he went around the corner. Since the girl’s room was located halfway down the left side of the building, and the SUV was parked in the back, near the stairs leading to the basement, they didn’t have far to go.

  Eben was already in the passenger seat and Christian was just slipping into the driver’s side when the emergency door burst open and three guards emerged, heavy flashlights beaming outward. The man in the lead pointed his light directly at them, illuminating the interior of the car. And their faces.

  “Shit.” Christian slammed the door closed and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.

  “Go, go, go!” Eben ordered, staring at the men through the windshield. The one pointing the flashlight in their direction had a cell phone to his ear, and the other two were closing the distance at a run.

  Christian threw the SUV into reverse and floored it. They squealed out, spitting gravel everywhere as he jerked the wheel left and threw the car into first without stopping. He drove the vehicle up onto the grass, across a ditch and took a sharp right onto the road. The hospital was gone from the rearview mirror in less than a minute.

  “Well,” Christian said, letting out a deep breath. “That was exciting. How are we going to get her home? She doesn’t have any papers.”

  Eben was staring down at the girl. He held a lock of her hair in his hand and was rubbing it between two fingers as he answered, “Connor arranged it. Drive to the airport.”

  If Connor arranged it, then it was as good as set in stone. Christian shifted gears and headed for the highway. Home was only hours away.

  It was far easier than expected. Once at the airport, Eben directed him not to the main terminal, but to a private hanger. They were met there by a small, wiry man. One whiff of him told Christian he was Were.

  The man asked no questions, and barely gave the unconscious girl in Eben’s arms a glance. “The cabin’s ready. You may as well go and make yourselves comfortable. Throw the luggage in the back and we’ll be out of here in ten minutes.

  Not long after that, they were in the air.

  Connor met them at the tiny airport near their home. He looked serious and regal, even with sixty-odd years under his belt. He was Lead Alpha, and wore the mantle of his power well, but in the last few years he’d started to feel tired. Weary of the responsibility, more than anything. Being leader was for young men with strength and energy. The strength he still possessed. It was the energy that he just didn’t have like he used to.

  His eyes nearly danced when he saw them coming. As Christian came around the corner, he gave a whoop, dropped the luggage he was carrying and threw himself at the older man. Connor’s arms closed around him tight. “It’s about time you came back to me, boyo. It’s about time.” He held on for a bit longer and then pulled away enough so he could get a good look at his son.

  He’d been blessed in his life. He’d had a beautiful woman who loved him, and two sons. Though neither was of his blood, they were his, as much as any natural child could ever have been. “You look well. But you need a haircut.”

  Christian straightened to his full height and shrugged. “I don’t know. The women like it long.”

  Connor laughed. “They liked it short, too.”

  Yeah, I know,” Christian said, smiling cheekily.

  Connor kept him at his side as they waited for his other son. He often marveled at how fate worked. Eben had been his first, a child so dark it had even scared him to take the boy on, but he’d done it all the same, and it’d worked out. It’d taken effort to make Eben trust him, to tone down his natural aggression, but eventually, Eben had relaxed. Now, he had the outward appearance of
a respectable man, solid and steady. Hardly anyone ever realized how dangerous he was until it was too late.

  Then, when he and Eben had moved up north, needing the space to run and live as Weres were meant to, they’d come across Christian, beaten and abused by his own family, and so pitiful it had been hard to witness. Connor had taken one look at the ten-year-old boy and removed him from his home, placing him in his. There’d been a bit of adjustment, mostly between the two boys, but it all worked out in the end, and he’d ended up with one dark son, and one so bright he was like the sun.

  They had to wait a few minutes before Eben came out of the building, a bundle of blankets in his arms. He didn’t seem to notice the cold or snow as he stepped outside, but he did tuck the blankets tighter around the woman bundled within them.

  “Tell me what you know,” Connor ordered Christian.

  Christian lifted the luggage back to his shoulders. “I don’t know much. She’s in her early twenties, was at the hospital for four years, and she’s seen a Were. Oh,” he added, “and she’s human to boot. Can you believe it?”

  “My wife was human,” Connor murmured, absently rubbing the ring he still wore in her honor. He hadn’t removed it since the day she slid it onto his finger.

  “I know. But you’re you, and Eben is Eben. He’s not exactly easy, especially when he’s angry or feels threatened. How’s a human supposed to deal?”

  Connor’s voice was sure and smooth as good brandy. “She’ll manage, my boy.”

  Chapter Three

  Life floated along smoothly until the drugs wore off. Gwen blinked slowly, wondering if she was dreaming. She waited a minute, felt the softness of the blankets and the fluffiness of the pillow, and determined that she was indeed awake. Except she wasn’t sure where she was. But one thing was definite—she wasn’t in the hospital.