Violet (The Silver Series Book 4)

by Cheree Alsop

  VIOLET

  The Silver Series: Book 4

  By Cheree L. Alsop

  Copyright © 2012 by Cheree L. Alsop

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover Design by Andy Hair

  www.ChereeAlsop.com

  To my husband, Michael Alsop.

  Marrying my best friend was

  The best decision I ever made.

  To my family for their support,

  For their love, and the

  Endless adventures.

  I love you!

  Chapter 1

  His golden eyes held mine like they did every time I entered the cold, gray room. Roger led me to the table in the middle and I sat on the cold metal. A shiver ran up my spine. I shook my head. “I don't want to phase anymore. I hate it.”

  Roger checked my heartbeat and breathing with his stethoscope, peered into my eyes, then put a thermometer under my tongue. He wrote something down in a folder. “Your heart rate's a bit high. It seems to trigger the response.”

  “The phasing, you mean,” I snapped back before I could stop myself.

  He glanced at me calmly and nodded. “Yes, the phasing. Phasing has to do with an adrenaline response and your heart rate is always elevated, which is probably another reason why you have trouble sleeping.”

  “You mean reason besides changing into a wild animal without the ability to stop it,” I grumbled.

  He tapped his pen against his teeth and surveyed me with the detached boredom of someone who has performed the same analysis and found the same results everyday for the past two weeks.

  The tapping bothered my sensitive hearing. I glanced away from Roger and again met the eyes of the werewolf in the cage. A shield had been fastened over the lower half of his face. When I had questioned Roger about it, he said that the werewolf was wild and the shield was to keep him from biting people. It seemed cruel to me, and the shield also made his eyes that much more piercing. I broke away from his gaze and studied his surroundings. The cage he stood in looked more like a cell, a corner of the room sectioned off with thick bars and strong locks.

  I had never really looked at the werewolf's enclosure before. Usually his golden stare unnerved me enough that I avoided looking in his direction at all costs. But the shudder ran underneath my skin again and I desperately needed a distraction to delay phasing.

  The werewolf stood close to my brother Kaynan’s height, a few inches taller than me. I guessed he was older than me by a few years, too, but it was harder to tell. His brown hair hung long and tangled to his shoulders. His eyes, golden like a wolf's, bore into mine with a look as guarded and wild as the air about him. A shudder ran through my body again and a hint of pity touched his gaze.

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  Roger followed my eyes, then shrugged. “We're trying to teach him English, but he gives no effort to learn and attacks anyone who enters the cage. I don't see how we can rehabilitate someone who won't even try to communicate.”

  “Is it so bad if he wants to stay wild?”

  Roger's expression turned disapproving. “A wild werewolf is dangerous. If we can't trust him, he can't be in society.”

  “What if he just wants to go back to the wild?”

  Roger shook his head. “That wouldn't be safe for anyone, including him. As it is, we have to keep him shielded and caged in silver to protect my staff.”

  I stared. “The bars and shield are silver? Doesn't that burn him?”

  Roger glanced toward the cage. “It might slow him down if he decides to attack someone.” He took in my own disapproving expression. “Colleen, I have an obligation to everyone who works here to keep them safe. A wild werewolf is a menace. He's just lucky he's being given a chance.”

  A strong shudder ran through my skin, this time making my teeth chatter. I jumped off the table.

  “Where are you going?” Roger called after me.

  I didn't answer him as I sprinted down the hall toward my room. A shiver ran through my skin followed quickly by another. There wouldn't be time. There was never time. I let out a growl of frustration and was forced onto all fours while my bones shifted and joints changed direction. Black and cream colored fur ran up my arms and my fingers pulled into the clawed toes of the wolf. My nose and mouth elongated into a muzzle, and my teeth sharpened and grew. My body gave one last shudder, muscles taut from the change; instinct called for me to find fresh air and freedom from the confining walls.

  A door opened down the hall and I turned to see Roger peek out to check on me. I longed to go to him and have him try to fix me, but no one could stop the phasing and nothing could change what I was.

  I turned away and padded slowly up the hall to my room. The door already sat open. I never dared to close it because of the havoc I wrecked if I found I couldn't get out after phasing. The wolf instincts that longed for escape were too strong to fight sometimes and the mindless mess that ensued was something no one wanted to deal with.

  The room smelled of chemical cleaners and cement; little of me had made an impact on it in the week that the room had been mine except for claw marks gouging the door. The few things that my brother Kaynan had brought me had been destroyed in my phase the other day when I accidentally pushed the door closed and I went crazy trying to get out of the claustrophobic space. Roger's definition of safe for my own quarters was definitely different from my own, but it beat the cage similar to the wild werewolf's I had inhabited the week before. At least they hadn't forced me to wear a shield.

  Another shudder ran through my skin and before I could do anything, I was lying in my human form on the cold ground. A tear of frustration trailed slowly down my cheek. I embraced the humiliation, doubt, and pity for ten seconds, wondering what I had become and what would happen to me. Then I took a deep breath, wiped the tear away, and rose to my feet. The hospital gown Meg gave me with the tiny snap buttons that were a pain to do up but came undone easily when I phased still lay in the hallway about halfway between my room and the analysis center. At least I had interesting problems to solve.

  I peered out the door both ways, ensured that no one was within sight, then dashed down the hallway for the crumpled blue gown that waited sadly for me to reclaim it. As I did up the buttons, I was reminded of the races Kaynan and I used to have for the remote, the last can of soda, or the bathroom. A pang of sorrow swept through me at what had changed. I pushed it away, knowing that regret was the last thing that would get me through any of this.

  I wandered through the halls later that night. Insomnia was another fantastic reaction to the DNA fusion that had made me a werewolf, another of the reactions Kaynan hadn't had to deal with and no one could fix. It took about three days of no sleep for me to finally drop in an exhausted heap wherever the insomnia decided to let up. Until then, I was left to my own means while the rest of the staff slept except for two solitary guards who seemed to
have the position because they generally didn't like to talk and could care less about a bored teenager roving around.

  I had explored every nook and cranny of the rehab center except for the room with the wild werewolf, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I would go crazy if I couldn't find something to keep my mind occupied while everyone was asleep. The werewolf in the cage had never done anything to make me distrust him, but I still felt uneasy under his knowing golden gaze. I shook off the thought and entered the analysis center.

  My werewolf eyesight easily compensated for the meager lighting provided by a solitary emergency light that glowed dimly overhead by the door. Turning on the lights would wash the room in color, but sometimes I enjoyed the simplicity of animal vision. A myriad of grays, blacks, and whites of hues I had never before experienced colored the tables and computers I passed on my way to the cage.

  The werewolf watched my silent approach, his gaze above the shield guarded and slightly quizzical. He sat with his back against the cold cement wall, and I realized it was the first time I had ever seen him sitting and not pacing the metal enclosure. I drew near, expecting him to rise, but he merely watched me, his muscles tense as though it took all of his self-control to stay sitting.

  I grabbed the chart on the table and sat on the floor next to the cell. It felt familiar, comfortable almost to lean against the same wall as though the cage wasn't between us and we were just friends talking. I laughed at my own desperate delusions and flipped through the chart.

  “Says here they have no idea where you're from.” I glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. “I'd guess Alaska or Canada. Somewhere north because apparently you've been able to hide out for this long without being found and the Hunters range pretty far.”

  He didn't comment. I didn't expect him to, so I flipped another page. “They guess that you were raised by wolves, but don't know how you got out there in the first place. Sounds like negligent parents to me,” I said to myself. The hair rose on the back of my neck and I turned to see him standing by the bars glaring down at me. I hadn't heard him move, not a brush of clothes or a whisper of his bare feet against the cement. I stood up quickly and held up my hands. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense.”

  At his continued glare, his golden eyes fierce and dark, a blush rose to my cheeks. “I really didn't mean anything, honest. You probably had wonderful parents. Maybe they're still out there, I don't know.” I put the chart back on the table. “It's none of my business and I shouldn't be going through your stuff. I don't even know your name.” I glanced back at the chart. “They just label you as Feral Werewolf Four. That doesn't seem very nice. No wonder you're touchy.”

  I turned to go, feeling horrible about what I said. I thought my life was bad, but at least I wasn't caged and away from my loved ones. Kaynan came to visit a few times a week, and he said Mom and Dad would be so happy to see me again. They didn't know I was alive because we didn't want to tell them if I couldn't get the phasing under control, but when I could control it, I planned to see them first thing.

  I was almost to the door when the werewolf whispered something behind me. His voice, rough from the lack of use, sent a shiver through my skin. I turned back around slowly. “What did you say?”

  His eyes studied mine as though he debated whether to trust me. I waited in silence. His brow furrowed. “Rafe.”

  I took a step closer. “Rafe?”

  He nodded and gestured toward the chart. “My name is Rafe.”

  A smile spread across my face and I crossed the room back to his cage. “You speak!” I said with barely contained excitement.

  He rolled his eyes but the corners creased and I wondered if he smiled under the silver shield.

  I frowned. “Why do you let them lock you in here? Why don't you talk to them?”

  He hesitated, then studied his hands. “I don't like them.”

  His voice was halting, hesitant like he didn't trust the words.

  A puzzle piece fit together in my mind. “And they don't like you.” I saw Roger's disapproving look and heard Jaze say again that they would rehabilitate every werewolf that came from Dr. Tannin's Development Center. Given the way Rafe had been treated by Dr. Tannin's team and now at the rehab center, I couldn't blame him.

  I grabbed the file from the table and passed it through the bars. “Want to see what they say about you?” He took it, his eyes quizzical, then held it loosely in his hands as if unsure what to do with it. I wondered if he could read, but didn't dare ask for fear of offending him again after finally finding someone interesting to talk to.

  I sat down against the wall once more. He watched me for a minute, but I studiously avoided his eyes. He took another breath, then sank down against the wall a few feet away. His back didn't touch the brick and he looked ready to jump up again at any instant.

  “Why are you here?” he asked when I hadn't said anything for a couple of minutes.

  In truth, I was just enjoying the closeness of someone who wasn't a physician poking and prodding me to figure out what was wrong. Rafe was the first person who made me aware that I was wearing only a blue hospital gown. I felt under-dressed and ugly with my raggedly cut hair and lack of make-up, but also alive because for once I was near someone who didn't smell like fear or concern when I was around. I didn't know how to say that, so I settled for, “To figure out how to control my phasing.”

  His eyes narrowed calculatingly. “No, I mean why are you here?” His voice was slightly muffled by the shield, but I liked the warmth of his tone.

  He tipped his head to indicate where I sat and another blush stole across my cheeks. “Oh, uh, well, I got bored.”

  An eyebrow lifted, but he fell silent again. He glanced at his chart, then back at me. “What do your papers say?”

  I pushed down the emotions that rose unbidden in my chest. “That I died, was made into a werewolf, and can't control myself. I’m a hazard to everyone around me until they can figure out what's wrong.” A knot formed in my throat, but I swallowed it away.

  “Is it wrong?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It is when I can't go two feet without worrying about turning into an animal, or how that animal will react in enclosed spaces.” The thought sent a familiar shudder through my skin. Dread filled me, but I pushed it down and turned my mind to something else. “You know, if you talk to them, they'll probably let you out of here.”

  He watched me without an answer. Another shudder ran through my skin. I pushed off the wall and rose to my feet. “I've gotta go.”

  “Colleen?”

  Warmth ran through my skin at the sound of my name, a name I hadn’t told him. I turned back. “Yes?”

  “Will you bring me some water?” His eyes dropped as though he was embarrassed to have to ask. He said softly, “I can never seem to get enough to drink.”

  My heart turned over and I nodded. I knew I didn't have much time, so I ran to the other end of the room where there was a sink, searched around for an appropriate container to put water in, and finally settled on a vase of dried flowers that had been there ever since I got to the Center. I wondered if they had ever been alive.

  I dumped the flowers out, quickly scrubbed the vase, and ran the water back to Rafe. My shoulders shook and teeth chattered when I finally passed it through the bars to him. I turned and hurried toward the doors, but it was too late. The phase caught me just before I reached them, dropping me to my knees and changing my body against my will. I gave up fighting because fighting was futile and made it hurt. I took off my gown and waited with my back to Rafe, humiliated as I phased in front of him.

  When it was over, I realized the doors were still shut. Claustrophobia rose along with the instinct to get away from the walls and doors, to get out in the open and run like a wolf was intended to. I couldn't fight down the panic that rose like wildfire in my veins. I went to the door and tried to open it with my paws. I scratched futilely at the unforgiving surface and a whine of dread rose in my throat. I was tr
apped.

  “Colleen.”

  I had forgotten about Rafe in my need to escape. The fur on the back of my neck lifted and I turned with a snarl, wolf instincts spurring me to defend against an unknown attack. The sight of Rafe kneeling at my level in his cage, his golden eyes unperturbed by my outburst, chased the fight from my body. I dropped my head and padded slowly back to stop a few feet from his cage. Embarrassed, I refused to look at him.

  A hint of humor touched his voice. “It's not like I haven't done that before.”

  I glared at him, wondering if he was laughing at me.

  His eyes grew serious. “Trust me; if I could, I'd phase right now.”

  I gave a soft snort and lay down on the floor, my head on my paws and my eyes on the faint moonlight that showed through the small, barred window above us.

  “Your eyes are beautiful.”

  I turned my head slowly to face him, wondering if he was joking, but he met my gaze intently. “I've never seen violet eyes. They're amazing.”

  I looked away, but smiled inside at a compliment when I felt the most unattractive. I was trapped by my body, unable to thank him or do anything more than sit in silence listening to him breathe along with the sound of the clock on the wall and the scuff of a guard's shoes as he made one of his infrequent and inadequate rounds. I could have scratched at the door and he would have let me out, but I felt better next to Rafe, away from scrutinizing eyes and questioning glances.

  The shoes passed without so much as a flashlight shone in the small window on the door. I closed my eyes, then my heart slowed and a rush of warmth ran through my skin. Before I could even move behind the table, I had phased back into my human form.

  Any security I had felt laying next to Rafe's cage as a wolf immediately fled. I tried to cover myself the best I could, aware that my hospital gown was halfway across the room.