by Tamar Sloan
That’s what golden wolf has meant for me.
Dawn, green eyes strained, turns to the building. “I’ll keep an eye on her from inside.”
I nod, grateful that she understands.
Then I realize there’s someone else who’d be deeply affected by Alistair’s words. KJ has moved away from the entry and is leaning against the wall of the building, hands shoved in his pockets. That has me clenching my teeth. KJ’s hands are never in his pockets—they’re either on a keyboard or making sure his beanie is where it should be.
I join him, welcoming the dig of the bricks into my back. “They’re not all like him.”
KJ keeps his gaze on where Alistair drove off. “I know.”
I do the same. We probably look like two guys discussing sports or the latest music video, rather than what’s eating away at KJ. “And we already know that sort of rhetoric doesn’t win.”
The desire for blood and retribution and dominance may have started this, but it certainly didn’t win.
KJ’s sigh is almost invisible. If I weren’t a Were I probably wouldn’t have heard it. “I know.”
The pups must’ve woken up, because I can hear the faint sound of their growls and yips as they play. I listen, knowing KJ can hear them too. They’re the proof of what Alistair is up against. “We’ll win because we’ll do what it takes.”
Finally, KJ moves. He turns to look at me as he nods. “I know.”
Hunter
12 MONTHS BEFORE
By that evening Alistair’s visit has me so agitated that I decide I might as well use the energy to patrol the enclosures. The darkness, after a summer of light, is welcome, as is the silence. There’s so much talk about how to save the wolves—who to breed, when to feed, how to save them. I think that’s why I prefer being out here. When the uncertainty of the future becomes too much, it’s easier to feel like I’m doing something when I’m out patrolling and protecting.
Not to mention I get to see her…
I reach the corner of the soft-release enclosure. The biggest of them all, it’s the one enclosure that hasn’t been used yet. But with the birth of the four pups, in a year’s time, it will be preparing them to live back out in the wild. Seeing those four white wolves survive and thrive has meant the choices I’ve made may actually have been the right ones.
Heading back down the fence, I stop. The wind has taken a break for a change, and the night air is still. All that intercepts the silence is my breath. It’s so quiet I’m pretty sure I can hear my own heartbeat. With the fence behind me, I take in the darkness. My Were sight can make out the shadows of undulating tundra and little else. Nothing moves. Nothing else breathes.
This is what the nights were like before my wolf of gold appeared. I can see why KJ was so worried. Spending all that time alone, doing nothing but protecting our wolves from the threat of hate, would have snapped something in my brain.
At the same time, the absence of anything means it’s going to be another uneventful night. KJ has pointed out many a time that we have cameras to keep an eye on the wolves and the enclosures. He says my evening walks are more to feed my inner control-freak than anything.
Running my fingers down the wires, I guess he could be right.
Not that I’d admit that to him.
Whether I walk these fence lines or not, quiet is good in our corner of the world. It’s probably why Alistair was trying to stir up trouble. The past few months have been muted on the wolf-human front. No close contact. No over-reactions. He wouldn’t want people becoming complacent in their unfounded fear.
Except he came up empty handed whilst learning exactly the level of determination he’s up against.
I’ve just reached the edge of the breeding enclosure when I decide I’m going to go for a run. Not because I have to, but because I want to. It’s been days since I’ve seen golden wolf, and there’s some sort of metaphysical ache in my chest because of it. Maybe I could introduce her to the northern pack. It’s not too hard to scent them out when I’m in wolf form.
Having reached a decision, I step up my pace. Her patience, her mischievousness, how she seems as drawn to me as I am to her, have me considering breaking into a jog. A run with her is just what my soul needs.
As I near Sakari’s den I slow down, not wanting to alarm her. She doesn’t need a happy, possibly delusional, Were disturbing her much-needed sleep. But as I slow, something has me stopping.
There’s a scent. A scent that doesn’t belong. Holding still, I breathe it in letting it register. My eyes open wide. It’s the smell of a human.
Squatting, I squint as I survey the ground. The smell is stronger here, laced with others. As my fingers find the divots of a boot mark I catalog them. Rubber from the sole of the shoes. A vague trace of sweat. The tang of male aftershave.
Someone else has been here, and recently. Someone who isn’t part of Resolve.
Foreboding, heavy and slick, settles around my shoulders. Breaking into a jog, I head for the part of the fence where the den is. Within seconds the sound of pups growling and tussling are unmistakable. Except it’s night time, when they should be asleep.
And someone was just here.
The smell of meat and blood hits me seconds before I’m there, and the foreboding spreads down my spine like cold, black tar. We don’t feed the wolves at night—too likely to draw their wild cousins in.
Reaching the den, I press myself against the fence, scanning the enclosure. The pups are out, and I quickly see why. A slab of meat sits in the center of the clearing before the den, and they’re fighting over it.
I’ve heard of baiting captive wolves, but we haven’t come across it. It’s one of the reasons we kept Resolve quiet.
Until tonight.
I don’t need a run up, adrenaline is jack-knifing through my veins. It propels me over the fence and I land in the enclosure. Two of the pups scatter when I land, but two have their jaws clamped around the bloody chunk, each yanking in a game of tug-of-war.
“No!” I roar, jumping forward and yanking it from their mouths.
One pup manages to tear a shred off as the meat is snatched away whilst the other falls back on its rump. I throw the meat over the fence, disgust roiling in my gut. I look down, hoping I got here in time.
Zephyr and Sakari are have come out, faces alert as they take in the intruder. Breathing heavily, I’m thankful Zephyr has mellowed in his time in captivity, otherwise I couldn’t focus all my attention on the pups. I need to make sure they’re okay. They pad over to their mother and I watch carefully, not that I know what I’m looking for.
Does Miki look like he’s walking a little stiffly? His body, smaller than the others, looks like his legs have been splinted. Another pup bumps into him—Pakak. Which wouldn’t be unusual if they didn’t both fall over.
Then struggle to get up again.
Moving with all the speed I can muster, I scoop them up. Sakari startles and I hear Zephyr growl. But there’s no time. I’m certain these were the two pups playing tug-of-war with the meat moments ago. There’s no telling how long the meat has been in the enclosure.
Meat that was undoubtedly poisoned.
Tucking them into my chest, I run. Please let someone be monitoring the screens.
The banging of the gate slamming shut triggers a seizure in Miki. His small, white body starts to convulse in my hands. Every spasm feels like it’s directly connected to my heart, every writhe and twist is a stab in my chest.
They need medical help and they need it now.
Relief joins the urgency when the door swings open and Riley reaches out for one of the pups. I pass her Pakak, her face telling me they’ve seen what’s happened. “They’re in the lab.”
We rush in to find Dawn there, KJ standing beside her. I lay Miki on the steel table and they contract around him. Riley has Pakak beside him a second later. We step back, giving them room.
Dawn leans close over the two pups. Miki isn’t moving whilst Pakak looks petrifie
d. “Symptoms?”
“Miki was walking pretty stiff legged, then he went into convulsions when the gate shut.”
Dawn’s lips flatline. “Strychnine.”
Jesus. The stuff used in rat poison.
Opening Miki’s mouth, she holds out her hand. “Activated charcoal.” She barks, the first time I’ve seen her be curt.
KJ passes her something and they lean in to administer it. It looks like they pump the two pups full of it.
Reaching back, KJ brings several syringes around. “Anticonvulsants and muscle relaxant.”
Dawn takes them, barely glancing at him. Miki begins seizing again, and they both hold his fragile, young body still. I don’t know medical jargon, but it’s obvious they need to get that stuff into him as soon as possible.
Riley’s hands slip around my arm, holding onto me as her face presses against my shoulder. I reach over to squeeze her hand, wishing there was something I could say.
Dawn looks up. “We need to make sure the other two are okay.”
We’re at the door and down the hall before she can finish.
Inside the enclosure, the wolves are both standing on alert at the mouth of their den, the pups curled up by Sakari’s feet. My heart surges into my throat and I grab the wire, trying to get a closer look—neither of them are moving. Zephyr steps in front of them, blocking them from view. Dammit. We don’t have time for this.
Double dammit. I’d probably do the same thing if I were him.
Riley strides up the fence. “They’re not moving, Hunter.”
I go the other way, hoping another angle may help. I almost trip on the hunk of meat I threw over the side. I stop, nudging it with my foot. It barely looks touched, which has got to be a good thing. I turn toward the den. “They may not have got to the meat. We just need a better view.”
Now that we’re divided, Zephyr has to choose who he’s going to keep an eye on. He picks Riley, the one who’s least familiar to him, which works for me. As he turns to keep her in view, the two remaining pups come into sight.
They’re wrapped around each other, looking so much less with only half of the litter there. Please let them move…
I hold my breath, as if by stopping my own that’ll mean I’ll see their chests move, but I don’t see anything.
Again, a wolf obstructs my line of vision and my hands clench in frustration. Sakari moves over to her pups. She glances at me before looking down at them.
Is this what she did when she found her last litter dead?
She nuzzles one, gently nudging it with her nose. Desna’s whole body shifts on the ground, a limp ball of fur.
My whole body sags, my fingers in the wire the only thing holding me up. Oh god, they’re…
Sakari nudges her pup again, and this time Desna opens his eyes to look up at his mother. With a yawn and a mewl, his head drops down again. The sound wakes Kayuh, who shuffles closer to his brother.
“They’re asleep.” Riley’s voice rushes out with relief.
I look at her on the other side of the enclosure. “They were asleep.”
We both grin, the expression powered by relief, and watch as Sakari curls around her pups. Zephyr returns to her side, standing as a sentinel beside his family.
I let myself pull in a shaky breath. They didn’t eat the meat.
We both head back at the same time, meeting each other at the gate. Riley studies me. “I think you got to them in time.”
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, I turn us toward the building, ‘I hope so’ rushing through my mind. “It looks like it.”
I’m about to open the door when it pushes open. We jump back to find KJ there. He looks pale and drawn, and I don’t know if that’s a post-adrenalin rush look, or if there’s bad news.
He comes outside, rather than bringing us in, which straight away puts me on edge. “Pakak looks like she’ll be fine. We gave her some charcoal to absorb any contamination from the poison, just in case. Dawn is just preparing some mince with it for these guys.”
I nod. “There’s no sign or symptoms in the other guys.”
“Good.” He pauses, and any relief or joy at the good news is quickly extinguished by dread.
“Miki didn’t make it. Dawn said his body was too small for the amount of meat he’d eaten.”
“Dammit.” My hands tighten into fists. We’ve just lost another wolf.
Riley gasps then strides straight past KJ. Opening the door, she heads inside without looking back. She’ll want to go see Miki, say goodbye.
I don’t think I’m ready for another farewell, so I step back. I’m not surprised when KJ follows me. We’re both Weres who prefer to digest this stuff away from others. We head around the front, both silent.
Staring out at the horizon, I try to find some words. Hope is what we need right now. “Three still alive. That’s good news.”
Except KJ is too smart for platitudes. He turns towards me, his frown tight with tension. “We’re hanging by a thread here, Hunter. We have two packs left. These guys and the ones in the north.”
The reality of where we’re at is a punch in the gut. “We’re doing everything we can.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
Frustration explodes through me. What the hell else am I supposed to be doing? But I reign it in. KJ tends to take enough responsibility for all of this as it is. “It’s going to have to be enough.”
KJ pulls down his beanie, and I recognize the gesture for what it is. That woolen hat is like a security blanket for him. He tugs it again. “There’s something else we can do.”
There’s an undercurrent in KJ’s tone. He says the words low, almost under his breath, like it’s a secret or taboo. KJ likes to think outside the square, but there’s something about those words that make me uneasy. “What?”
He pulls in a breath, which only increases the edginess. “It’s called genetic rescue.”
The band around my chest loosens a little. That doesn’t sound too much different to what we’ve been doing. “Which is?”
KJ turns towards me, eyes alight. “So, you know that the biggest threat right now is the genetic bottleneck. Because there’s so few of them they’re vulnerable to any changes—disease, change of environment…losing even more lives.”
I nod. None of this is new.
“For these guys to survive, we need to ensure genetic diversity just as much as keeping them alive long enough to pass on those genes.”
Yep, also common knowledge.
“Well, why not go straight to the heart of the problem? Why not increase their genetic options?”
I narrow my eyes. “Why are you telling me this and not Dawn?” Dawn is the one with all the medical know-how. She would be the one who would know whether this is a good idea.
Another breath in, this one he takes the time to let out. “Because I’m not talking about just wolf genes.”
The tone is back. The words heavy but placed down with caution. “What are you talking about, KJ?”
“I’m talking about adding Were genes.”
I shoot like I’ve just been pumped with electricity. “No!”
KJ leaps to his feet too. “Hear me out, Hunter. We add small sections of Were genes, the ones we actually share with them. They actually have a chance.”
“We’re already giving them a chance. We started the captive breeding program—something my father never would have wanted.”
“We’re talking de-extinction here, Hunter.”
“Things aren’t that desperate. What you’re suggesting…”
Is…is…wrong.
“Think about it, Hunter. We have what they need, the mix of genes that will keep them alive. We don’t have to select wolves, catch them, hold them in cages.”
“No.”
But KJ is a Were in motion. “There are so many more of us, we carry the blueprints they need to survive.”
Holy crap, he’s thought about this. Probably for a while now. “Stop, KJ. This is wrong.”<
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“It’s what needs to be done.”
“No, it’s not. We have Zephyr and Sakari. They still have three healthy pups who we’re going to make sure survive. There are wolves in the wild.”
KJ opens his mouth but I step forward, getting into his personal space. “KJ!” His eyes, fervent and bright, seem to take ages to connect with mine. “No.”
He finally stops, my words getting through his zealous fog. “But—”
I don’t back down. “It’s too far.”
He deflates, eyes sliding away as he steps back. I wait, not sure what that means.
Flopping back against the wall, he runs his hands down his face. “I just can’t watch them disappear, Hunter. I can’t.”
I move in, grasping his shoulder. “We don’t need to do this to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He looks up at me, eyes full of pain. I make sure I hold his gaze. He needs someone to believe for him.
After long seconds he lets out a breath. “Okay.”
Tension unwinds from around my chest, making it easier to breathe. I step back. “Good. We’ve got this, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now don’t you have blood tests to do or something?”
KJ pulls up a crooked smile. “We did a double check on the other wolves to make sure there were no more traces of strychnine.”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
KJ reaches up, grasping my shoulder like I just did to him. “Thanks, Hunter. You ground me when this all feels like it’s getting out of control.”
The irony that I feel the most out of control strikes me, but I grin as I grasp KJ back. “Anytime.” Stepping away, I turn back. “Although that one came out of left field. Genetically modified wolves? Using Were genes?”
He narrows his eyes at me, his lips twitching. “It’s called genetic rescue. They’ve used it quite successfully with the Florida panther and the greater prairie chicken.”
Shaking my head, I turn back away. Did he just say chicken? “I think your beanie’s shrunk and is messing with your head.”