Vice (Fireborn Wolves Book 1)

by Genevieve Jack

  “Becca!” Her assistant was sprawled face down, blood staining her light brown curls and smudged across the back of her lab coat. The barking grew louder. Laina woofed in response, the deepest part of her inner wolf coming to the surface. All the dogs, including Milo, froze, eerily silent and intently waiting for her next command.

  Unlocking the door, she rushed to Becca’s side and placed two fingers against her assistant’s neck. A strong pulse thumped against her touch. “Thank the goddess.” She rolled her human friend onto her back and assessed her further. “Becca? Becca?”

  Her assistant roused, pressing a hand to the back of her head. “Laina?”

  “I’m here. What happened?”

  Her eyes widened. “A man asked for you. When I said you were gone for the day, he wanted your address. I wouldn’t give it to him. He got angry.” Her eyes darted wildly and she struggled to get to her feet. “How long have I been out?”

  Laina stood. “What did the man look like?” She helped her friend out of the kennel and settled her into the chair near the workstation.

  “Tall but skinny. Wavy dark blond hair. Rough around the edges, you know? I thought he was looking for the soup kitchen up the street when he first walked in.”

  Could be Jonah, Laina thought.

  Becca raised a shaking hand and pointed over her shoulder toward the observation window to the surgical suite. Laina’s gaze followed. The over-table surgical light was on. “Still here,” Becca murmured, eyes widening.

  Placing a finger over her lips, Laina retrieved the scissors she’d dropped and tiptoed to the stainless steel door that led to her operating room. The surgical light only illuminated the table, leaving the corners of the room dark enough to hide an assailant. There was something on the operating table, a box of some sort, but she couldn’t make out any details.

  She slipped inside the door and fumbled for the light switch, scissors raised and back pressed against the wall. The floor was sticky under her bare feet, and the stench she’d smelled from the office was overbearing now, a mixture of blood and antiseptic. Her fingertips caught on the plastic nub. When the lights clicked on, she gasped into the back of her hand.

  There was no one inside, but she’d found where the white wolf had been murdered. Her operating room was coated in blood. The floor, the walls, the bindings used to torture the creature still secured to the operating table. But her eyes had not deceived her. At the center of all that blood was a box, a wrapped gift.

  She approached the table, shaking. The box was covered in a page of newspaper with the headline Random Act of Terror Kills Four. It was the report of the murder that killed her parents, as well as Cameron’s. She tore it off the box, eyes burning with unshed tears, but it was useless to resist weeping when she opened the box. Inside, the white wolf’s heart lay in a pool of congealed blood. A gift card rested on top —You’re next.

  The scissors cut into Laina’s palm as she tightened her grip, backing from the room. Becca’s ghostly-pale face gawked at the horror beyond the observation window, and Laina had to lift her by the shoulders to steer her toward the door.

  “We have to call the police,” Becca mumbled as if her voice wasn’t working properly. The words were a muffled buzz in Laina’s head. The horror of what she’d seen echoed in her mind. Why? Why here? Why now?

  “There’s a phone in my car. We’ll call on the way to the hospital.” Laina’s limbs moved robotically. Out the door. To the car. Lower Becca into the passengers’ seat. Laina had just slid behind the steering wheel when Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” blared from the purse she’d left next to her shoes on the passenger’s side floor.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Becca as she snaked her hand inside her bag and lifted her phone to her ear.

  “Where the hell are you?” Silas growled.

  “Silas…There’s been… something awful has happened. I’m at Four Paws.”

  “Are you okay?” Silas’s voice instantly softened, becoming all concern with none of the former admonishment.

  “Yes, but Becca’s hurt. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you meet me there?”

  “I’m already here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Stephanie was attacked at your condo. She’s alive, but barely. Do not go home. You are in great danger.”

  She inhaled sharply. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “I thought you said you were at Four Paws? You’re at least ten minutes from Saint John’s.”

  Before Silas could say another word, Laina hung up and inserted her keys into the ignition. She arrived at the hospital in seven minutes flat.

  Four

  “I can’t believe he did this to her,” Laina said. She stroked her thumb over the back of Stephanie’s hand, the whoosh of air in and out of her ventilator a constant reminder of the seriousness of her condition.

  “Whoever did this left her for dead. We’re hoping they were convinced it was you,” Silas said.

  “The note he left in my surgical suite said, You’re next. Becca described a man who fit Jonah’s description.”

  Silas ran both hands through his wild brown hair and paced the room. “It has to be Jonah, but who’s helping him?”

  Laina sighed. “I don’t know, but blood was everywhere, Silas. You were right about him having help from a magical creature. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like he blew the wolf apart.”

  “But who? I talked to every fairy and witch contact I have in the city. No one’s heard anything.”

  “If he’s been out there all this time, why now? Why today?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do we do now? How do we find Jonah? Did he leave any clues in my condo?”

  “We don’t do anything. You may not want to hear this, Laina, but you have to go into hiding. Our best hope is to send the message it’s you in this bed.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind? I have a business to run. I can’t just up and leave.”

  “I’m sorry but you have to. There’s a safe house for our kind in rural Wisconsin run by a very powerful ogre called Uncle Monty. He’s offered a place for you and Jason to stay in exchange for your help working in his bar.”

  “Wisconsin? No, Silas… No.” She shook her head. “I’ll take the risk. I’ll disguise myself.”

  Silas frowned. “How many times do I have to tell you, this isn’t just about you? Rivergate Manor has been compromised. The pack is in danger. Uncle Monty owns protected acreage enchanted with ancient fairy magic. In exchange for your help, he’s agreed to allow Fireborn and Rivergate packs to shift there. Cameron and the others will join you during the full moon. We’ve found alternate arrangements for the other packs.”

  At this, all she could do was gape. “You want Jason and me to act as servants to an ogre in exchange for shifting grounds? Couldn’t someone else do it?”

  “Fireborn pack is counting on you to keep them safe, and in my absence, they must obey you as alpha. I’ve already given the order.”

  She rubbed her face. “What about Cameron? If his pack is shifting there too, why isn’t he acting as ogre slave?”

  “I need someone to lead the society in my absence. Everyone is going into hiding until the shift. Cameron will be the one person who knows where everyone is in case of an emergency.”

  “Where will you be?”

  Silas leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going undercover to track Jonah down and bring him to justice. I have the skills and the resources.”

  “So it’s okay for you to take risks but not me? How is that fair?”

  He ignored her question. “Grateful Knight has agreed to cast a protection spell around Rivergate Manor.”

  “Grateful Knight? The Monk’s Hill witch? You asked a favor of a witch?”

  “She’s a friend.”

  Laina snorted.

  “Because of the size of the property and the complexity of the spell I’ve requested, she says i
t could take a few months. But once Rivergate Manor is safe again, you can come home.”

  “Months?” She rubbed circles over her temples.

  “I won’t allow you back until I’m sure it’s safe, and even then, we’ll have to take precautions.”

  The walls pressed in around her, the air thick and hot with Laina’s rising panic. She dropped Stephanie’s hand and rose from her chair, heart pounding like a cornered animal. “Is there any other option?”

  Silas’s answer was quick and concise. “No. My decision is made. Jason is meeting us here in ten minutes to pick you up. You’ll leave for Wisconsin as soon as he gets here.”

  “What about my things?”

  With a sigh, Silas shook his head. “Leave it all. You’ll have cash. Buy what you need. Uncle Monty will give both of you new identities when you reach Sable Creek.”

  “I don’t want to do this,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. This is how it has to be.”

  Without another word, Silas left the room, giving Laina a private place to cry.

  Two weeks later, Laina didn’t have time to waste on tears or a single worry about being a princess. As a bartender at Monty’s, an ancient, wood-paneled lodge that reeked of ogres and human sweat, she didn’t have the luxury to think about much more than the next customer. Although occasionally, like now, her mind drifted back to her operating room, the blood-covered walls, the way her feet stuck to the floor, the idea that the white wolf had suffered and died on her operating table.

  “Anna! Earth to Anna!” Jeff waved a hand in front of her face. Who was Anna? Oh, Laina thought, I am Anna. Anna Whitehall was her new identity.

  The memory of the wolf faded slowly like air from a pinpricked balloon. Jeff, a sun-weathered construction worker who spent too much time on a bar stool, waved his hand again. “Can I get another?”

  Laina tightened her ponytail and forced a smile. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  He grinned. “Someone keep you up all night? Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “No. Nothing like that,” she said bitterly. It was impossible for her to talk about her current situation without sounding bitchy and resentful. “You want another Amber Ale?”

  “Whoever kept you up is not worthy. If you’re going to spend the day asleep on your feet, there should be a damn good reason, a reason to brag about.” He lowered his chin and bobbed his eyebrows twice.

  Laina dug an Amber Ale from the refrigerated bin and popped the cap off, skimming it across the bar into Jeff’s waiting hands. The scrape of glass against polished wood reminded her she forgot to turn the music on when she opened that afternoon. It was too quiet.

  “You should try me on for size,” Jeff said. He was nothing if not persistent.

  “I wouldn’t be able to handle your mad skills,” she said flatly.

  He erupted into laughter and raised the bottle. “Damn straight!”

  Laina added the beer to his tab, then turned her back on him, fussing with the bottles along the back counter for longer than necessary in hopes of killing any chance he might try to reengage in conversation. Eventually, Jeff became bored and wandered to his preferred seat near the window where he made a habit of watching the Sable Creek Savings and Loan, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the young teller he fancied. The biker at the end of the bar cleared his throat and raised two fingers. He ordered a rum and Coke and a slice of apple pie. It was barely noon.

  Uncle Monty’s lodge was the only restaurant and bar in Sable Creek, which wasn’t surprising. The town was barely large enough to support a grocery store, let alone a restaurant. But Laina learned the town’s traffic far exceeded its population for a few key reasons. It was conveniently located off a major thoroughfare between Chicago and Minneapolis. Truckers flocked to Monty’s like flies to honey, mostly for the pie, which was enchanted by a local fairy to be mildly addicting. The place was legendary among biker gangs for the same reason.

  Monty’s also bordered some of the best private hunting grounds in Wisconsin. As an ogre, Uncle Monty was unconcerned with licenses, endangered species, or hunting seasons. Hunters came from far and wide and frequented the area year round, for a price. There were rumors he’d stocked big game on his grounds—buffalo and mountain lion.

  And then there was the enchanted safe zone and lodge for supernaturals. Laina was as likely to see a vampire lying low after a particularly messy feed as she was to see a human construction worker like Jeff, one of the rare townies who frequented the place.

  Laina sniffed the air as the stench of ogre grew stronger, not surprised at all when Monty’s head appeared in the service window to the kitchen.

  “Where’s your brother?” The ogre’s gritty baritone had the sandpaper feel of plunging her ear into a litter box. Ogres could pass as humans—hulking, unhygienic humans with bad teeth. Monty was no exception. At six foot four and over 300 pounds of portly flesh, he dwarfed Laina, his smell as overpowering as his presence, but if she hadn’t known better, she’d have assumed he was an ordinary man. His heavily hooded eyes gave her the impression he was perpetually skeptical, and perhaps he was. Ogres were the loan sharks of the supernatural world. Thanks to notoriously harsh business dealings, they were hated by many and wished dead by more than a few.

  “Late,” Laina said reluctantly. There was no point in lying. Jason, new identity Jay Whitehall, was hardly discreet about his escapades. “He didn’t come home last night.” The word home stuck in her throat like a dry piece of gristle. The apartment above the bar that Monty had loaned them was an ancient relic that could barely be called shelter, let alone home. She’d spent all of her free time cleaning the place, and still, walking through the front door was the most depressing part of her day.

  “Your brother has a penchant for the ladies.”

  “You could say that.”

  “That place you’re stayin’ in ain’t free. One of you will have to make up his hours, or I’m going to need more cash.”

  Cash was one thing Laina had plenty of. The society had made sure of that. But anyone with half a brain knew it was folly to admit you had money to an ogre. She’d locked the cash in a fireproof case and secured it to the underside of her bed, intending to use it to pay off any unforeseen expenses that might crop up. Monty was notorious for accruing undisclosed charges in the amount he thought his victims were capable of repaying. Until she moved on from this purgatory, her apparent poverty was her best weapon for limiting her liability.

  “I’ll work a double,” she said. She made herself busy, hoping he’d drop the subject and leave. Instead, he hovered as she filled the bar sink with scalding hot water and poured in the sanitizing chemical necessary to wash the barware.

  “That’s too much, Anna! What am I made of? Money?” Monty growled.

  It wasn’t too much. She’d used exactly the amount prescribed on the back of the bottle. Any less and it was impossible to get the lip prints off the glasses. Monty knew this but didn’t care. He never met a germ he didn’t like. “Sorry. Bottle got away from me.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Monty scribble himself a note, no doubt charging her for the extra cleaning product. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “Carlton City Animal Hospital. This is Becca. How can I help you?”

  “Becca, it’s me. I can’t talk long. I’m not supposed to call at all.” Laina huddled in the stockroom, whispering into the cell phone Silas had given her for emergencies. It was paid for in cash with limited minutes and registered to a fake alias from California. She needed to keep this conversation short.

  “Oh my God, Laina! Are you okay?”

  “I am, for now.”

  “Your brother—”

  “Let’s not talk about what happened. I’m just checking in on your progress.” If one good thing had come of all this, it had been Silas’s decision to share the truth about her family with Becca. She understood the human woman probably had a million questions, but there wasn’t time.
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  “The dogs recovering in our kennels have been returned to their owners with the prescriptions you left for me. Most of the animals scheduled for procedures or appointments have been rescheduled at other animal hospitals. I have a handful of owners left to contact and then I’m putting up the sign and the answering machine message we talked about.” The one that implied Laina was dead and the hospital was closing indefinitely.

  “Excellent,” she said, voice thick with loss.

  “You should know that Milo’s owner was very appreciative of your help. He seemed visibly upset about you being a no-show and called twice, once last week and once this week, asking to talk to you.”

  “Kyle called for me?”

  “Twice. Eventually, I had to give him the story we agreed upon. He sends his condolences.”

  Laina stared at a case of Corona, feeling like the last bit of happiness she carried within the confines of her heart had been forcibly extracted using a diamond-tipped drill and drain cleaner.

  “Laina? Laina? Are you still there?”

  “I’ve got to go. Thank you for handling this for me. I owe you one.”

  “I’m praying for you, sweetheart.”

  She ended the call, thanking the goddess for the friend she left behind. Silas had sworn to keep Becca safe but suggested that if Jonah believed Laina was dead, her assistant wasn’t in any danger anyway. Jonah wouldn’t waste the effort or risk calling attention to his whereabouts for a human.

  Laina slid her phone into her apron, grabbed the case of Corona, and got back to work.

  Five

  “You can’t keep missing work, Jason. I’m not covering your shift next time.” Laina kneed her sleeping brother in the ribs, knocking the sofa bed he was lying on hard enough to give his body a creaking, spring-loaded bounce.

  He groaned and rolled onto his side. “Just pay Monty the difference, L. Stop acting like this is a real job. We paid him to hide us. What’s he going to do? Kick us out?”