by Anya Nowlan
Some months ago, she would have been cracking jokes right about now, trying to make her captors joke. But of course, that was back when she actually knew the names of her guards and they shared more than hateful glares and mumbled one-word sentences with her. Glancing at the three brick walls around her now, she hedged her bets and decided to stay quiet, her hands wringing her wrists in that annoying way she’d come to do.
Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, Meredith could still enjoy the view being presented to her.
Who would have thought that the most travelling I would do would be as the hostage of a terrorist shapeshifter cell? she thought with some wry humor, her gaze flitting over the magnificent, if not odiously overdeveloped expanse of Abu Dhabi.
They were in Etihad Tower number one, heading up to one of the highest floors. She’d been brought in with a blind over her eyes on the last car ride, but the whole process of getting her to Abu Dhabi had been a long one. She’d been travelling for two days now, mostly by car, and the best she could tell was that she’d been in the desert the whole time.
I wish they’d tell me what’s going on.
Meredith bit her lip, looking down at herself. She was dressed in an ocean blue gown that was off the shoulder and her hair was done in neat, flowing waves, with a few pearls dotted into the hair above her temple. She was in high heels – something that she hadn’t experienced in years now – and wore a diamond bangle on her left wrist. It was surreal, coming from ragged sweatpants and tees and lab coats, to being dressed in designer clothes and having her hair and make-up done by professionals.
A girl had been carted in to fix her hair and face and bring her the clothes a scant hour ago and Meredith was still unsure what to think of it. Maybe they just wanted her looking pretty when they shot her in the head? Who knew?
Her stomach twisted as the elevator smoothly came to a stop. One of her nameless guards stepped forward, right in front of her, and whipped out a sealed envelope as the door opened and a steely-eyed sentry met him. Meredith could see the men standing outside the elevator sporting assault weapons, looking like they were plotting the takeover of a small nation, while laughter could be heard in the background, mixing with the lovely sounds of classical music.
This day couldn’t get any weirder, Meredith was quite certain of that.
“Come in. You’ve been expected,” the tall sentry said, obviously an Arctics’ agent just like Meredith’s guards.
They were hard to miss, after all. The blonde hair and blue eyes got sort of repetitive after a while.
Being ushered forward, Meredith was brought into the midst of a large, bubbling party. Everyone around her was dressed as lavishly as she was, if not more so. If anything, Meredith felt a little plain around all of the magnificent dresses, sparkling jewels and men who looked like they not only funded the world, but also controlled it.
She stopped awkwardly in the middle of the first room, while the party seemed to be sprawled out in the huge loft. There had to be several hundred people in attendance. When Meredith’s eyes became a little more accustomed to the glamour and the shine, she could see that while the majority of the patrons seemed to be rich guests, there were also plenty of men around who looked like they hurled boulders at passing airplanes, scoring hits more often than not.
The bodyguards, she mused.
One of her guards peeled away, but Meredith didn’t dare take a step anywhere, so she opted for staying put. A passing servant handed her a flute of champagne and for the longest moment, Meredith stared at the flimsy crystal glass in her hands as if it were about to sprout horns. It was all just so… ridiculous. A few days ago, she’d been consoling her friend, who’d held her dead baby in her arms, and now she was dressed to the nines at what looked to be the most extravagant party she would ever visit.
As soon as that realization settled, Meredith tossed back the drink and savored the bubbles as they went down her throat. She could have done with something a lot stronger, but captive researchers couldn’t be choosers, right?
Busying herself with looking at the view – Abu Dhabi really was magnificent – and occasionally studying the other people around her, Meredith almost forgot that she still didn’t know why she’d been brought there. It was when her missing guard returned, nodding to his two companions, that Meredith was brought back into the moment.
“They will be some time. Enjoy yourself at the party,” the man said, leaving Meredith to stare at him with her mouth falling open.
They can’t be serious.
He and another one of her guards were about to move away from her, leaving her with only one of the stony three to keep an eye on her, when Meredith cleared her voice, speaking up. With a frown, the man returned his attention to her.
“Um, I’m sorry, but who are they?”
“The Research Control Committee,” he said automatically, quirking a brow. “They’ve gone over your work. They have questions.”
“Oh,” Meredith said, halfway between stunned and relieved. “Okay then. And by ‘enjoy’ myself, you mean exactly what?”
The grin that passed over his stern, Aryan form was chilling in a way.
“I mean mingle with the other guests. The people here are the sole reason why we’re as successful as we are. And I’m sure you’re very loyal to the cause, aren’t you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned about with a chuckle and headed off deeper into the party. Apparently now that she’d been delivered, they didn’t think of her as much of a threat. She couldn’t argue with that – a human scientist really didn’t have much against men with shotguns and riot gear.
But it was the realization of where she was that really struck her.
Somehow, Meredith Wilder had come from the pits of The Arctics’ dungeons, to rubbing shoulders with the biggest donors and supporters of their twisted crowd. And her captors actually expected her to enjoy herself, spending time with people who happily funded the most deranged group of shifter terrorists the planet had to offer.
All she could really do was grab another flute of champagne from a passing tray and pray to God that this day wouldn’t get any more fucked up than it already was.
She was halfway through the glass, still standing in place like a stone statue, when her eyes went wide and her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach. The tall, wiry but proud form of a man with salt and pepper hair seemed to appear out of nowhere in the crowd, people parting before him as if he were splitting the seas with his steps. The worst part of it was that Meredith was sure that none of the people around him were even aware that they were doing it – they simply felt the sudden urge to recoil from him, to get out of his touch.
The wolfish grin he wore on his lips only strengthened Meredith’s own need to put distance between him and her.
She knew that man. She knew him far too well, even though she had no idea what his name was.
“Meredith! What a pleasure. I see you’ve been brought to see the sunlight,” he said, having made a beeline for her.
He shared a nod with her bodyguard and the man took a step back, giving them space. Every fiber in Meredith’s body wanted to back away, maybe even turn around and run, but she made herself stay still. Her fingers were clutching the flute of champagne so tightly she was sure it would shatter into a million pieces in her hand.
“I have,” she finally said, forcing calm into her voice that was certainly not there in her form.
“I trust you’re enjoying the festivities,” he said, taking a sip of what looked to be vodka.
It was a statement, not a question. From the few words she’d shared with the man in her time, she knew that he had a penchant for those. But she imagined that came with the territory – a man who fancied himself to control everything he could see did not need to exhibit any mock coyness.
“Tell me, how is Maria?” he asked.
His voice was smooth as honey. It was pleasant to listen to, or it would have been, if Meredith hadn’t been para
lyzed by the memories of the last time she’d seen him.
Only an hour after Maria had been delivered to their cell, the door had opened again and two guards had walked in, with one of them carrying a little bundle in his arms. Almost gently, they gave it to Maria, still weeping on the floor. When she accepted it with shaking hands, everyone in the room could see that the little form in her arms was the still, lifeless body of her child.
A moment later, this demon of a man, standing before Meredith now, had stepped into the room. His eyes, bottomless chestnuts, had glinted with amusement as he watched Maria launch into another fit of heaving sobs, cradling the bundle against her chest while Sya held her by the shoulders.
“May this serve as a reminder to all of you,” he had said, his narrow chin held high, protecting an air of superiority and possession all about him. “You are here because of what you can do. We afford you luxuries that you do not inherently deserve – your life, the lives of your loved ones. If you fail, you will pay the price. Or they will. Don’t disappoint me again.”
The words had echoed in Meredith’s ears ever since then, haunting her in her dreams. He was the epitome of all that was evil about The Arctics – all the cruelty, the heartlessness and the glee of seeing others being broken to pieces underneath their heels. And now he was carrying on what seemed like the most pleasant of conversations with Meredith, grinning like they were old friends.
“I don’t think I need to tell you how she is,” Meredith pressed out from between clenched teeth.
A big part of her wanted to break the glass into a million tiny pieces against his smug, arrogant face, but she kept herself back. If she did that, it was almost certain she’d never see Dean again. Never get to hold him, or only get him back the same way Maria did. That thought was all she needed to keep from lashing out. She couldn’t do anything to harm her child, to harm Dice’s child.
“Suit yourself,” he said with the lightest of shrugs, seeming almost disappointed that Meredith was not willing to amuse him with some feminine bout of hysteria. “Please enjoy yourself, hmm? The band is lovely and the hors d’oeuvres are to die for.”
He gave her a disarming smile and bowed in a way that was almost genuine, before slinking off into the crowd, parting before him and then closing behind him, as if controlled by some unseen force. Meredith shuddered, kicking back the rest of her drink.
She blinked away tears from her eyes, willing them to not come forth, and her skin was pimpled with goose bumps. Sharing a moment with that man was like staring into the eyes of the devil.
But when she spotted a familiar set of gray and hazel eyes across the room, Meredith knew that this was only the beginning. Things were about to go from bad to worse.
Twelve
Dice
“Oh man… This is like the fucking who’s-who of the shifter wackos elite,” the familiar voice of Prowler rang in Dice’s ears, setting him further on edge than he already was. “I think I can count two billionaires per square foot here. Werewolves mostly, but you could open up any damn shifter tabloid and name half of these people from the first ten pages.”
There was a certain level of awe in Prowler’s voice, mixed with dark amusement. Dice couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. Standing in the middle of a party that seemed to be exclusively compiled of billionaire shifter moguls, terrorist cell activists in fine clothing and socialites was enough to get any even partially sane shifter scratching their head and wondering where they’d taken the wrong turn.
“Keep the chatter to a minimum,” Dice said, his tone carrying a stern warning. “We’re here to observe and not draw attention.”
“You’re no fun,” Price said with a dip of his head, bemusement sparking in his eyes.
Dice, Rio, Ryker and Price were milling about the loft, with Price and Ryker the ones in the designer suits, carrying on what would appear to the outside viewer as a pleasant conversation. Rio and Dice were both dressed in simple black suits, with earpieces in their ears and their hands clapped behind their backs.
It was unnerving, to say the least, being in the middle of a major The Arctics’ fundraiser or party or whatever this was, but that was overshadowed by the sheer sense of amazement Dice felt at the fact that they’d even gotten in through the front door. When the lift had opened and they’d found themselves staring down the barrels of assault rifles with nothing but their fists to arm them, Dice had been pretty damn sure that they were all one step away from being discarded corpses in the bottom of some sand pit.
Yet here they were, still very much alive.
Spade must really know the wrong kind of people, Dice thought grimly, his gaze tracking the people around him.
While Dice Alderson was just about the last guy to follow popular culture, even he could name some of the people there. Wealthy magnates, tech giants and all around billionaires, this crowd would have made any party planner in Los Angeles wet themselves with glee. But they were all here in Abu Dhabi, apparently supporting the cause of some of the most deranged, single-minded individuals the world had to offer.
It was chilling, seeing what the one percent was willing to do for money, the kind of morals they were willing to forego in the pursuit of profits.
“What does the perimeter look like?” Dice asked, murmuring into the headset.
“All clear, as much as we can tell. I could say more if I got closer, but that won’t happen,” Thor responded.
They’d given up the call signs for the evening in anticipation that if anyone was capable of listening in on their frequency, they’d be exposed too quickly as a unit. For now, Thor was in Etihad Tower number two, having camped out there for the past sixteen hours – getting him in there had been a task of herculean proportions, especially with his rifle – and Prowler was even further away, viewing the shindig through the cameras hidden in the lapels of Ryker’s and Price’s jackets.
“I think this whole thing would be a lot more fun with some explosives,” Rio said with a barely audible sigh, his eyes flitting over the people around them with restless energy.
Dice didn’t have to say a thing to confirm that thought. He was sure most of his team felt the same. Whether it was because they wanted to take out some terrorist supporters or simply because they wanted to watch the world burn was a whole other matter entirely.
“Is that Julian Rowen?” Ryker suddenly asked, catching Dice’s attention and directing it toward the tall, imposing form of a man passing them by.
“It is,” Price confirmed. “Well, look at that. Wasn’t he the Times Person of the Year a few years back?”
“I think so,” Rio confirmed.
But Dice had forgotten all about who the fuck Julian Rowen was or what he did. All he could see was the woman he was talking to.
The most beautiful woman in the world.
Meredith.
“Oh shit. That’s her, isn’t it? Honey cleans up well,” Ryker commented, spotting Meredith a moment after Dice did.
“Shut up,” Dice said absently, feeling his muscles strain and his bear stir to life.
He could feel his gaze flashing between dark brown and gray and hazel, his eyes transfixed on her. She looked like a vision, in that dress that made the color of her eyes pop and that hugged all her curves in the most maddening way. It took everything he had to keep from pushing through the rest of the crowd, taking her hand and trying his damndest to get the fuck out of there.
Rio’s hand on his shoulder stilled him a little and he inhaled sharply, the brown seeping out of his eyes.
“Careful, boss. You’re surrounded by half of The Arctics’ elite forces and we don’t have a gun on us,” Rio said, a low warning that should have been ringing through Dice’s head far before it dawned on anyone else.
But he was helpless before his mate. He’d beaten himself up ever since he’d allowed her to get in that car and be driven off, away from him, so remaining cool and rational was something he couldn’t do so easily.
I need to talk to her.
That went against everything their mission statement said. The team was there to observe and to attempt to pinpoint which people were running the research teams of The Arctics. It had long been assumed that those guys had to hold the keys to the kingdom. While The Arctics spread their terror mostly through carefully organized, clean attacks on human populations and disrupting events meant to unify shifters and humans, then in all actuality The Firm knew that it was all a front to hide their research work.
Over the last several years, The Arctics had come out with some of the most gruesome, terrifying projects, all in the name of making shifter dominance – and especially werewolf power – prevalent in the world. They’d created super soldiers, funded research on neurotoxins that could make people turn against one another, experimented on both human and shifter babies and the list went on and on.
As such, every blow against their research division was twice as valuable as anything that could be managed against their arms dealing or the more traditional forms of their terror.
Seeing Meredith become visibly scared and uncomfortable while talking to Julian Rowen, Dice’s mind was made up for him. He needed to talk to her, to tell her that it was going to be alright, that he was there for her. It was thanks to her that they were there to begin with – Dice didn’t know how, but somehow Spade had tracked her to Abu Dhabi, and his team had been flown out the moment it became clear that she was headed there.
“I need a diversion. I need to get her away from that guard of hers,” Dice said, reluctantly turning his back on Meredith and the vile man she was conversing with.
“That’s fucking insane,” Rio said immediately.
“I’m with him on that one,” Prowler said, prompting another low, menacing growl from Dice.
“I said, I need a diversion. I’m running this mission. I need to talk to her, tell her what she needs to look out for.”