by Lynn Hagen
“I wish I knew, Logan. But I’d like to keep you here until I can figure out what’s going on inside of you.”
Inside of me?
Logan wasn’t going to stick around and be the doctor’s guinea pig. Someone had tried to kill him. They had blown his work truck up, and he had nearly died. From the immense pain he had felt in his head and body, he was surprised he was standing here breathing.
There was no way he was going to let the doctor poke at him for days on end. He was tired, sore, and ready for a hot bath.
“No thanks. Just give me my clothes, and I’ll sign anything you want. I’m going home.”
“I won’t force you to stay, Logan. But as your doctor, I’m advising you to let me run more tests.” Dr. Samuel stood, his body slim, but Logan could tell the man held an air of authority around him. That still wasn’t going to make him stay.
“I’ve considered your advice, but I’m saying no. Now give me my clothes or I’m going to walk out of here with my ass flapping in the wind.” And he would. Logan had been to a hospital once when his grandmother fell ill. He remembered the cold way she was treated, as if she was a pincushion instead of a living and breathing person. She had died in that hospital, and no one had really done anything to help her.
He wasn’t going to die here while Dr. Samuel played pincushion with him. If something was wrong with him, then something was wrong with him. If the irregularity was going to kill him, he’d rather die at home.
Morbid, but true.
“Very well,” Dr. Samuel said as he crossed the room, shoving his hands into his white lab coat. “But if you feel off, please come back.”
Not going to happen. “I will.”
A sly smile reached Dr. Samuel’s lips before he walked out of the room. Somehow the doctor knew Logan was lying through his teeth.
He didn’t care. Logan just wanted to go home.
A nurse came into the room and removed his IV, not before flushing it out first. Damn, that burned. She plucked him clean of the wires and looked at him as if she wanted to argue his leaving. She had papers for him to sign and then pointed over to a closet. “Your clothes are in there.”
Logan crossed the room and opened the door, staring at a clear bag at the bottom of the shallow closet. He pulled his clothes out and winced. His shirt was a bloody mess, torn in a few places with scorch marks thrown in for good measure.
His pants weren’t in any better shape. The leg that had been exposed to the flames was ripped and the edges singed. At least his shoes were unscathed. He would look one hell of a mess, but he would be covered. Now all he had to do was call Cal for a ride.
If the man answered his phone.
Cal was an expert at letting the call fall headfirst into voice mail.
Logan would never understand the man. He slept with his phone at his side, but never answered it. He was a very weird man, but Logan’s only friend.
He really couldn’t complain.
Well, he could, but only Cal was there to listen. He couldn’t rightfully complain about Cal to Cal. It just didn’t come across the same through voice mail.
Once he pulled on the remains of his clothes, Logan used the phone by the bedside to call his friend. Logan was half tempted to lie back down in the bed and rewire his body for signs of a heart attack when Cal answered the phone.
Miracles really did happen.
“Dude, it’s all over the news. The reporter said your work truck was blown up and that the explosion took out half of the hardware store. Is it true?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the car.”
“That means you need a ride.”
“Yep.”
“And where are you?”
“At the hospital in Pride Pack Valley.”
“So it’s true!”
Logan rolled his eyes skyward. He really didn’t feel like going over the events with Cal. All he wanted to do was go home and get some sleep. But Cal was his only ride, so he’d suffer through it. He had met Cal at the lumberyard where they worked. Cal was quiet, reserved, and a bit on the strange side, but Logan needed a roommate to help pay the bills.
Cal had agreed to move in, and they had been friends since.
Although not one would consider them close friends. Cal did his own thing, but the man was good for a ride, when he answered his damn phone.
“Just come get me, moron.”
“On my way.” Cal hung up the phone.
Logan replaced the receiver and headed toward the door. He could wait for his friend outside the confining walls that felt like they were closing in on him. Following the signs to the exit, Logan found himself standing out in the coolness of the night. It was late spring, but not warm enough yet to be without a jacket at night.
And he was without a jacket.
He’d deal with the coolness of the night. It was better than stepping back into the hospital. The doctor just might change his mind and haul Logan back in, kicking and screaming.
It could happen.
Logan leaned against the side of the building, trying to get out of the breeze and stay out of Doctor Frankenstein’s sight. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hoping to stave off some of the cold entering him.
He smiled when he spotted Cal pulling in front of the hospital.
The man knew how to get here quickly. Somehow Logan knew Cal was closer than he had let on because there was no way he made it from the place they shared to Pride Pack Valley that damn fast. He walked away from the building, waving at his friend in the small red Nissan.
Cal nodded and pulled closer to Logan.
As Cal pulled to the curb, Logan caught sight of the man dressed in the expensive black suit. It was the same man from the blast site.
He was leaning against a car in the public parking lot, his eyes drilling into Logan like he wanted to kill him.
Logan quickly climbed into the car, closing and locking the door behind him. “Just go.”
Cal lost the smirk. It slid out of place with a frown replacing it.
“What’s wrong?”
That was a very good question. “I’m tired.”
The Nissan pulled away from the curb as Logan glanced across the parking lot. The man was gone. He sat back and breathed a sigh of relief until he heard a loud thump on the roof of the car and then it sounded like boulders were falling from the sky. The nose was loud, and dents were appearing in the roof of the car.
“Shit. What the fuck is going on?” Cal shouted as he began to slow down.
“Speed up!”
Cal looked at Logan like he had lost his mind. He just might have.
The sound of something hard hitting the roof repeatedly echoed all around them, getting louder by the second. Cal sped up, stealing worried glances at Logan as the noise reached an unbelievable level.
When the roof almost caved in over their heads, Cal began to shout, swerving the car back and forth across the road.
Logan knew the man in the black suit was on top of the car, trying to pound his way in. With what, he wasn’t sure. If it was his fist, they were dead men. “Hit the brakes!”
Cal shot him a questioning glance but slammed the brakes hard.
Logan’s head cracked against the windshield. He had forgotten his seat belt.
Logan gaped as someone rolled from the roof and hit the ground in front of Cal’s car. The headlights were shining brightly, washing the road ahead of them with lights as the car idled. They both screamed when the man stood in front of the car, just popping up like a damn jack-in-the-box. He stared murderously at Logan, his shoulders tight, his eyes blazing with hate.
“Go!”
“I’ll hit him,” Cal said in a panicky voice.
“If you don’t move this damn car, I have a feeling neither of us will live long enough to care who you hit.”
Cal hesitated and then gunned the gas, the tires squealing as the car lurched forward. The man jumped on the hood and then ran over the car until he was standing behind them, g
rowing smaller as Cal smashed his foot into the damn floor, the car gaining speed.
“What the fuck is going on, Logan?”
“Hell if I know.” And that was the god’s honest truth. Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. He glanced back again, but the man was no longer in the middle of the road. He turned around in his seat, buckling himself in as he let out a long and steady breath.
This day was so screwed up. He almost preferred zombies.
Chapter Two
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Rave stood there listening to Max, the shifter doctor who not only worked at Pride Pack Valley General, but who was also mated to Bald Eagle and Chey. Max was a lion shifter, and a damn good doctor, but Rave didn’t understand why the soldiers were called there.
Zeus, the alpha of the wolf pack, stood there with his hands on his hips, looking just as confused as the soldiers were. “What did you find, Max?”
Max looked over his shoulder and then lowered his voice. “I had a patient here, Logan Albinster. He was in an accident. I ran his blood work and found something that shocked me to the core.”
Rave leaned against the nurses’ station, bored.
“And that was?” Zeus asked.
“He’s a styre mente.”
Everyone looked at Max, confused.
Max growled. “Does no one read about preternatural creatures around here? The ancient scrolls aren’t easy to come by, but you can read them.”
“Okay, so we’re uneducated backwoods wolves. Sue us, Doc. Just tell us what the hell a styre mente is.” Rave wanted to get out of there.
They were having wings at Theo’s, all you can eat for five bucks.
That was one hell of a deal, and Rave just happened to have five bucks in his pocket.
He was pretty damn bitchy, and hungry as hell.
“They are very rare,” Max continued as if Rave hadn’t had his little outburst. “Only one in two hundred million are born. He can control minds, literally.” The excitement and dread mingled in Max’s voice, as if he discovered UFOs really existed. He might be just as excited, if he knew what the hell Max was talking about.
“I’m still not getting it, Max,” Zeus said.
“I don’t think he knows what he is yet. Logan didn’t seem conscious of the fact that he can control minds. I asked him to stay, he refused, and I let him leave. Normally that wouldn’t have happened.
If he’s left on his own, he could cause some serious damage. From his blood work, he has great potential to have TMC.”
“TMC?”
It was like dancing around the obvious that was just out of reach.
Rave was starting to put the pieces together, but Max wasn’t giving them the whole story. Not all at once at least.
“Total mind control,” Max supplied. “Logan, when he realizes who he is, will be able to push himself into your mind, control it, and control whoever he wishes. And if he decides to become malevolent, he could also mind rape a person. That means he can tear down your mind and rebuild it as whatever he wishes it to be. Styre mentes are extremely dangerous and rare.”
Rave stood up straighter at what Max was saying. He had never heard of a styre mente, but the more he listened, the more intrigued he became.
“There will be side effects as well,” Max said as he shoved his hands into his white lab coat. “He will get headaches, have slight confusion, and feel fatigued. Using the mind as a weapon, if that is the route he takes, is taxing on the body. But Zeus”—Max turned to the alpha—“if we catch him in the early stages of this phenomena developing, we may be able to keep him on the right path.”
“And if we don’t?” Zeus asked.
“He could hurt a lot of people and do some irreversible damage.
He could learn how to use remote mental influence, or mental tricks to make a person do his bidding. Like I said, he is young, still salvageable. Most styre mentes choose the path of evil. They are lured in by the power, but we could help him, guide him.”
“Do we know where to find this Logan guy?” Zeus asked.
“I have his home address,” Max said as he fished a piece of paper from his lab coat and handed it to Zeus. “Get to him quickly. Most styre mentes can feel each other. If another has found Logan, he can kill him and steal Logan’s budding powers for himself, making the killer ten times stronger.”
Zeus handed Ian the piece of paper with Logan’s address on it.
“Rave, Jaxxon, and Ian, take this address and go find Logan. I want you to bring him to me. But be careful. I don’t need any of you three ending up without your brains.”
Amen to that. Rave didn’t want anyone to mind rape him. He knew for a fact that if mind control were used against him, he would be screwed. How does one fight having their mind messed with? Did anyone sell special helmets to keep the fucker out?
This was one time Rave wasn’t sure shifting into his wolf form would help. Human form or wolf form, the mind was the same. This had suicide mission written all over it if this Logan guy discovered what he could do before the wolves got him back to the alpha.
With a heavy sigh and an empty belly, Rave followed Jaxxon and Ian from the hospital. He glanced toward Theo’s and wondered if the other two wolves would mind him running over there to get some wings first before their perilous journey.
“We need to hurry,” Jaxxon said as he jumped into the driver’s seat of his Jeep.
Guess the wings would have to wait. This Logan guy better come with them before Rave’s stomach tried to eat its way out. That would teach him to skip lunch.
“The address says that Logan lives in Browlers. That’s about an hour’s ride.”
Rave was going to shrivel away in an hour, two if he had to wait until he got back to eat. He sat in the backseat, his mood sour as they drove by Theo’s. He wasn’t a happy man when he was starving. He should have his mind on Logan and his budding powers, but his rumbling stomach was interfering.
“You think Max was telling the truth?” Ian asked from the front passenger’s seat.
Jaxxon shrugged. “The world isn’t so simple anymore. There used to be just shifters. And then we learn there are vampires. Then we find out that there are Fey and demons living around us. And not too long ago, Zeus tells us that the mythical pecus volatile and inferno incolae exist. So you tell me, Ian, can styre mente exist as well?”
“You don’t have to be a smart-ass,” Ian complained as he rested his arm on the door. The man looked just about as happy as Rave felt.
Rave grinned.
“Can we stop to get something to eat?” Ian asked.
“I second that request,” Rave said from the backseat with enthusiasm. “I’m starving.”
“And if Logan gets away from us because you two want to grab a bite? Who is going to explain that to Zeus, hmm? I sure as shit am not telling the man Logan couldn’t be found in time because I was too busy shoving a greasy burger down my throat.”
“Chickenshit,” Rave grumbled.
“Damn straight,” Jaxxon shot back.
Ian turned in his seat, grinning mischievously at Rave. “We could always shift and eat Jaxxon.”
“His hide is too tough.” Rave chuckled.
Jaxxon scowled at Rave in the rearview mirror and then grinned.
This was going to be one long ass ride. Rave sat back, thinking about his mate, Agent Monroe. The man had said he had to close out the bookie case, but he would be back. The bookie had one of his goons kill a prominent lawyer and Memphis’s mate had witnessed the murder. Romano had come here to hide out, but the FBI had soon followed as well, stopping Romano or anyone else from being killed.
And that was when Rave realized that Agent Monroe was his mate.
That was four months ago.
Rave wasn’t too happy about the guy being gone so long. He had tried to call, but always got the man’s voice mail. He didn’t even know Monroe’s first name. How pitiful was that? Rave wondered if maybe Monroe was avoidin
g him. The agent knew about shifters.
How much he knew, Rave wasn’t sure.
But he had looked like he wanted to come back after that hot ass kiss they shared in the parking lot. Or maybe his mate was just a damn good actor and couldn’t wait to get the hell away from Rave.
Being hungry and having an MIA mate wasn’t helping Rave’s mood. If anything, it made it worse.
“We’re getting close,” Jaxxon announced from the driver’s seat.
“Read me that address.”
Ian rattled it off and then punched it into the GPS that sat mounted on the dashboard. Jaxxon drove slowly, everyone watching their surroundings as they drove up a small concrete driveway only large enough for one car at a time. They parked behind a red Nissan and got out. It was nightfall now, the stars twinkling high above and the moon casting a long shadow over the house in front of them. The day had withered away as they had driven here. That meant Rave had to watch the shadows as he grabbed this guy they’d come here to retrieve.
“If he doesn’t know that he is a styre mente, what in the hell are we supposed to tell him?” Ian asked as all three approached the large oak door. The house didn’t look very big, and there was a rusted, green metal chair sitting to one side of the door. There was a large bay window to one side, shrubbery sitting in front and below like leafy sentinels.
Rave glanced around, but saw only parked cars under streetlights.
The neighborhood was quiet, as if everyone were asleep already. A few lights were on in various houses, but the street was as quiet as a graveyard.
Rave shuddered. That was a hell of a way to think about it.
“We could tell him that Max needs him back at the hospital,” Rave said as he hit the glowing orange doorbell.
Rave froze when he heard a crash and then someone scream. It was a male’s voice, and it was loud enough to wake the dead. Using his shoulder, Rave rammed his body into the door. That didn’t work.
He reached out and turned the knob. It was unlocked.
The three shifters raced inside just in time to see two men crash through a back door. Rave gave chase. He wasn’t sure who was who, but if that was Logan being taken away, he needed to rescue the man.