SHADOW PACK (Michael Biörn Book 1)

by Marc Daniel

  “…the chief asked me to keep him informed of all developments in this case, no matter how small they might be,” said Maxwell. The chief of police was currently out of town on vacation, but the detectives did not need to know this. The Alpha’s order had been clear: take control of the investigation and do whatever it takes to protect the pack’s secret existence.

  Of course, the series of gruesome murders was not exactly Maxwell’s idea of keeping a low profile, but the Alpha knew what he was doing. He never did anything without a good reason, and Maxwell wasn’t about to question his motives.

  Salazar, falling over himself to please his superior, replied, “Of course, sir, as soon as we have additional information we’ll let you know right away.”

  They had already told the assistant chief all the details of the case, and where the investigation was taking them so far. Maxwell had seemed pleased to hear about the Russian-mafia lead, almost relieved.

  “I do not have to stress the importance of keeping this investigation away from the public eye. The fewer people trusted with the details of this case, the better. This will maybe allow us to avoid crucifixion by the media,” said Maxwell in a low confidential voice.

  Chapter 50

  No light was visible inside the apparently deserted house. The night was clear and the trees bordering the clearing where Clemens’ cabin had been built danced to the howling song of the wind. The light reflected by the half-moon caught the frames of the towering giants and projected their trembling shadows in the driveway where Katia had parked her car.

  Katia got out of her vehicle and walked to the main entrance. She was not easily frightened, but she had to admit the atmosphere was a bit unnerving. She rang the bell, waited thirty seconds and rang it again, but nobody came to the door, although she was pretty sure Clemens hadn’t gone to bed yet. For one thing, he had been the one requesting her to come. On top of this, there were five cars parked in the driveway in addition to hers. It looked like Clemens was having a small gathering, but if that was the case, where the hell was everybody?

  She tried the door and found it unlocked. She pushed the door open, but before she had a chance to step inside the house, she sensed a presence at her back. She pivoted quickly to find a large white wolf less than ten feet away from her. The beast was majestic. Its coat was as close to immaculate as one could be, with only a few muddy spots spoiling the otherwise perfect fur. It moved with an almost hypnotic animal grace, emitting a low growl as it advanced towards Katia with the slow pace of the hunter who knows its prey has nowhere to run.

  Katia should have probably been terrorized, but she had no reason to believe the beast’s apparent hostility was anything other than bluff. She had recognized Isabella’s wolf form and was fairly confident Clemens’ wife wouldn’t dare to hurt her without her husband’s express consent. Yet as the beast got closer, Katia suddenly found herself panicking. What if the aforementioned consent had been given? What if she had willingly answered the Alpha’s summoning only to realize too late she’d been summoned to her own execution?

  As the wolf finally closed the last paces separating them, Katia felt her muscles tensing. She would not go down without a fight, but she knew she was no match for Isabella. The wolf mouth opened up into a gaping black hole as it moved towards the assistant DA’s throat. Katia could smell the beast’s breath, a nauseating stench. The monster’s jaws closed an inch away from Katia’s jugular as a booming laughter rose from the trees.

  Peter Clemens stepped out in the open followed by nine wolves. He was completely naked and looked filthy. His body was coated with dirt, and dried blood was clearly visible all over his face and torso.

  “I hope we didn’t make you wait?” he said, not even trying to sound sincere. “We were on a hunt and lost track of the time.”

  “I blame it on the wild boars,” said Karl who had just morphed back into his human form. “They’re just too much fun to go after.”

  “Unlike some, the boars know how to put up a fight,” said Isabella, who had also regained her human body. She was still standing against Katia, her bare breasts practically shoved into the assistant DA’s face.

  “Enough chitchat,” said Peter. “Katia did not come here to hear our hunting stories.”

  **********

  The wolves had all regained their human form and gone to freshen up in Clemens’ many bathrooms. After a voluntary transformation, werewolves could return to their man form at will in only a few seconds. The initial morphing into the wolf form was the tricky part. Newly turned werewolves went through excruciating pain during the first few months of their new life. The morphing was always involuntary at first and could take as long as twenty minutes in some cases. If one was not in the right state of mind, the muscular and skeletal transformation was so traumatic for the body that the pain was almost unbearable. With practice though, the process became easier and eventually painless. An experienced wolf with good control over his body could morph in less than six seconds; Clemens could do it in four.

  Clemens and his beta, Karl, had been the first ones to return to the living room where Katia awaited. Isabella had arrived shortly after, wearing a see-through black gown that showcased her lengthy muscles. Katia caught Karl discreetly eying the curves of the Alpha’s wife and wondered if Clemens had noticed. Katia and Karl had shared a brief relationship, but they were now making a point to ignore each other.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?” Clemens asked Katia.

  “A glass of water will do, thank you.”

  “Darling, Karl, anything for you?” enquired Clemens as he walked to the bar located in a corner of the living room.

  Karl and Isabella both declined the offer and Peter returned from the bar with a glass of water for Katia and a glass of scotch for himself.

  “So, tell me, what have you learned about the case and Michael Biörn since our last meeting?”

  “Not a whole lot. The cops don’t have a suspect so far and therefore the DA’s office has not been asked to provide an assistant for the prosecution. That means all my intel comes from Starks and I have to be careful with him, he’s a smart man. If I ask too many questions, it will raise suspicions—”

  “Good! Now that we’ve heard your excuses, tell us what you know exactly,” interrupted Clemens.

  “I know the cops assigned to the case are Detectives Salazar and Lewis. I know they don’t like Biörn all that much for some unknown reason. And I know the Russian mob tried to assassinate Biörn in his hotel room three days ago,” answered Katia in a calm voice, for she knew better than to show fear in the presence of three wolves.

  “Now, that’s interesting,” replied Peter. “Give me some details about the assassination attempt.”

  “The details are murky to say the least and the cops don’t buy Biörn’s version of the story, but what is sure is that four men armed with machine guns stormed his motel room Sunday late afternoon and left in body bags.”

  Katia gave as many details about the incident as she had to offer, which seemed to satisfy Clemens’ expectations.

  “Now can you tell us why Biörn and your boyfriend came knocking at my door under a false pretense last week?” asked Clemens.

  “I can tell you all I know, but it isn’t much,” started Katia.

  “I am shocked!” interrupted Isabella, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Carry on,” invited Clemens, while giving his wife a look that meant she was to shut up from now on.

  “I believe the idea came from Biörn. He knew Harrington, Starks’ old partner. Harrington was investigating the death of Chief Deputy Sullivan and had asked Biörn to come and help him with the case. When Harrington and his wife were murdered by a wolf two weeks ago, Biörn decided to stay in Houston to investigate and he recruited Starks to help him out.” Katia took a sip of water.

  “That still doesn’t explain how they found me,” replied Clemens.

  “I’m not sure either. I know your name was brought up by
Biörn. As far as I know, Starks had never heard of you before meeting Biörn.”

  Chapter 51

  The news network staff meteorologist was announcing a likely relief in the rain pattern of these last few weeks. Apparently, the tropical depression responsible for the deluge Houston had been experiencing lately was moving west. Michael was finishing getting ready and not paying close attention to the TV. He had only turned it on in case the wolf attacks had been picked up by the local TV networks, but so far it didn’t seem to be the case.

  The knock on the door caught him off guard; he wasn’t expecting anyone. Immediately alert, he smelled the air for any indication of danger. The motel door was well insulated and almost completely masked the visitor’s odor, but as he got closer to it, he finally identified the faint scent. He opened the door to find Olivia Harrington carrying two large paper cups and a white paper bag.

  “I brought you breakfast,” she announced with a smile. “May I come in?”

  Michael stepped aside to let the young woman through and closed the door behind her.

  “Sorry to barge in so early, but I wanted to catch you before you took off for the day,” said Olivia, not sounding particularly sorry.

  Michael had given her his new contact information after relocating to this motel following the assassination attempt against him three days earlier, but he hadn’t thought she’d show up at his door. This was the second time she had surprised him, and he was debating whether he should start being annoyed about it.

  Olivia sat at the room’s only table and started taking scones and blueberry muffins out of the bag.

  “I got you black tea with honey,” she told Michael, who still hadn’t said a word. “Are you going to sit down with me or just make me feel awkward?”

  Michael sat down on the opposite side of the table and tried a sip of the tea. It could have used a bit more honey, but it was drinkable.

  “Thanks for the breakfast,” he said finally. “But I assume there’s another reason for your visit.”

  Olivia was nervously playing with one of the napkins she had brought, twirling it between two fingers and then straightening it out again. At last she looked up to meet his eyes and said, “I want to help.”

  Michael was fairly confident he understood what she meant, but he acted as if he didn’t.

  “And with what would you like to help?” he asked.

  “With your investigation,” she replied, sounding hesitant.

  “It’s a bad idea and I can’t let you do that,” replied Michael in a tone which did not invite any rebuttal.

  “Both my parents were murdered, and I don’t know why. I don’t understand any of this. They were killed by a wolf in the middle of the country’s fourth largest city, and the mob may or may not be involved… The whole thing just doesn’t make the slightest sense,” said Olivia, all hesitation now gone from her voice.

  “I agree with you, but you have to let professionals take care of this, Olivia. This is not the type of business in which a college kid should be involved.”

  Any individual with even an ounce of emotional intelligence would have known not to call Olivia a “college kid,” but not Michael. On the best of days, he was already relatively limited in the social skills department; finding the right words to dissuade a distraught young woman whose parents had just been brutally murdered was simply too much to ask of him.

  “I didn’t come here to ask for permission, Michael,” she retorted in a combative tone. “I was just offering you my help, but if you refuse it, I’ll seek my parents’ killers on my own.”

  Michael was getting more annoyed by the second and still did not know how to handle the spirited young woman. “Your dad would kill me if he knew I let you in on this. It is simply too dangerous for you and I won’t have it.” He tried to sound definite.

  “Suit yourself, Michael.” Olivia got up. “Enjoy your breakfast,” she added as she opened the door and left, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

  Chapter 52

  Nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning was not Memorial Park’s busiest hour, but it still meant a few hundred joggers and walkers were circling the main loop around the park. Sheila Wang, however, preferred jogging the quieter mountain-bike trails inside a small wooded area on the edge of the park. She jogged religiously three times a week, always at the same time, and always on the same trails.

  She was finishing her last lap of the day when she noticed two men standing under the small foliage arch which marked both the entrance and the exit of the wooded area, the only path leading to the lot where her car was parked.

  As she got closer, she noticed the men were speaking in a foreign language. By the time she was close enough to realize it was Russian, it was already too late. The two men, who had been dutifully ignoring her up to that point, came towards her in one coordinated motion, catching her off guard. Before she had a chance to react, one of them grabbed her by the wrist in a vice-like grip. Sheila reflexively started screaming for help, but the second man was already behind her. She felt his immense left hand pressing on her mouth and nose, effectively preventing her from screaming and breathing at the same time, while his right arm wrapped around her arms and torso to immobilize her entire upper body. The first man released his grip on her wrist and took a few steps back, seemingly admiring the scene.

  Panic quickly overtook Sheila. The mountain-bike trails were completely deserted this time of the day, and she was fairly certain nobody could have heard her short-lived cry for help. She knew all too well why these men were after her, and she knew her chances of surviving the encounter were slim at best.

  The lack of oxygen was starting to make her dizzy, and she realized she had to calm down and find a way to breathe lest she die of asphyxiation before the goons had a chance to do anything else to her.

  The man holding her had probably come to the same conclusion for he lowered his hand to free her nose while still preventing any sound from leaving her lips. Sheila inhaled deeply as the man facing her started to speak. “You been a naughty journalist… You know what happen to naughty journalist?” His Russian accent was so thick she could barely understand him. “They die…” said the man, smiling as he pulled out a hunting knife from a holster he carried in his back.

  He took a step towards her, still flashing a sardonic smile. Sheila’s eyes were trained on the blade. She was sweating now and feeling nauseous too. The man took another step, dangling the knife in front of her. He was only a couple feet away from her when she threw her right foot as hard as she could in the direction of his genitals. The man, who had reflexively shifted his balance, caught her foot inside the thigh. The kick wiped away his smile, and he now looked more pissed than in pain.

  “You pay for that, little bitch,” he said in a threatening voice before punching her in the gut as the other man tightened his embrace around her. The blow hit her liver, driving the blood away from the organ. Her legs went limp and she would have collapsed to the ground if the other hoodlum had not been holding her. The man slipped the blade under her jogging shirt and cut it open from top to bottom before doing the same thing with her sports bra. Sheila had regained minimal strength by now and started fighting back again, but it only brought her another punch to the gut. The second man let her collapse to the ground this time. Before she had a chance to try and call for help, the two mobsters started furiously kicking her head and body. Soon, everything went dark around Sheila Wang.

  Chapter 53

  A grumbling sound loud enough to shake the hotel’s foundations rose from Michael Biörn’s empty stomach. The scones and muffins Olivia had brought for breakfast were long digested, and the hungry organ demanded its dues. Michael looked at his watch. Eleven forty: time to get going if he didn’t want to be late for his lunch with David.

  He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. His hand was on the handle when he remembered the room’s key card still sitting on the bedside table. He walked back to the bed, grabbed the card and st
uffed it in his jeans’ back pocket before leaving the room for good this time. Thirty seconds later, Michael was racing down the streets of Houston.

  As soon as Michael’s car was out of sight, a vehicle parked on the other side of the street relocated to an empty spot three doors down from Michael’s bedroom. The driver promptly exited her car and walked straight to Michael’s door. Using a pass key card stolen a couple hours earlier from the room service cart, Olivia Harrington let herself inside Michael’s room in search of usable information. She did not need his approval to help catch her parents’ killers.

  Chapter 54

  A chain Italian restaurant wasn’t Michael Biörn’s idea of fine cuisine, but he had not been the one picking the place. At least it was affordable. A definite bonus since he’d ordered half of the menu, and still had doubts it would suffice to tame his hunger.

  Michael had been surprised to find David in the company of Katia Olveda when he arrived at the restaurant, but he hadn’t mentioned anything. The assistant DA was wearing a flattering white blouse and dress pants which managed to make her look professional and sexy at the same time.

  “David told me what happened last Sunday. I am so glad you did not get hurt, it was quite the miracle from what I heard,” said Katia after the waiter departed.

  “I was very lucky,” said Michael simply.

  “If every victim was as lucky as you were, Katia and I would be out of a job,” replied David, smiling.

  “David mentioned you used to be an army ranger. The training must have come in handy Sunday night.”

  “It did,” retorted Michael, not bothering to develop further on her statement.