Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series

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Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series Page 14

by Eva Gordon


  He snorted. “You smell almost human.” He furrowed his brow. There is a possibility they might consider you useful for whatever nefarious plan they have.”

  “They don’t seem to have a problem including human sycophants, like Pinky biker.” Her blanket slipped, exposing her breasts.

  His glance honed in on her girls, but quickly met her eyes and half-growled. “Get dressed before they come in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Not going to end up as Pinky’s plaything. Just yours. She donned jeans and a long sleeve shirt, covering as much skin as possible. Too bad I didn’t pack anything like a burlap bag or something to hide my curves. “I suspect we’re heading to Patagonia.” Randi had picked up the brochures. Did he know his intended mate was dead? They probably didn’t take her because she fought to the death protecting the unchanged ones.

  Slade nodded. “If they wanted to get away from our governing packs, the Southern Hemisphere is the ideal spot for eluding us.”

  “I wonder if they are conducting some breeding program for high status lycans?” Why else take perfect specimens? She shook her head. “Yet, I would think abducted alphas and betas are going to put up a big fight.”

  “Not if their memory is erased.”

  “Like what you suspect Henri tried to do to you?”

  He snorted. “Calls himself Henrik. Tried again yesterday.”

  Cricket grabbed the bars, needing to touch him. To soothe his furrowed brow. The mind drug could eventually work and then what? No memories of their passionate trysts. No memory of him knowing her true name, Abella. How could her shattered heart mend, knowing she had no way to force those memories and feelings out into the open? Having him, at least for a short time, but losing him terrified her. “He drugged you?”

  “Just like last time. I remember everything now. I fell into a deep sleep and recall Dr. Warner catching him giving me the dose. Only Warner didn’t know it was an amnesia drug.”

  “Yesterday, do you have missing time?”

  “Yes, maybe two to three hours at least before Henrik returned. When he prodded me awake, I lunged at him, my identity and memory still intact. I wanted to bite off his remaining earlobe. He said I required a bigger dose.”

  “That sucks, at least for me.”

  “Oh?”

  “As soon as you forget who you are, they’ll waste me.” That is, if Pinky got tired of his toy.

  “I won’t let them.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” But if he didn’t lose his memory, how could he protect her from a pack of oath breaking werewolves? Cricket glanced at a tray of beef jerky, but she didn’t have the stomach to eat. Still, she couldn’t escape without fuel. She reluctantly chewed the top grade beef jerky. The kidnappers had killed the lower ranked weres, without bothering to give them the amnesia drug. Would they drug her once they arrive? Or torture her for info on LIA? Worse, use truth serum. This situation sucked. “Have they said much to you, or have they left us alone?”

  “After they fed me, Henrik came in and warned me, if I tried anything, he’d throw you out.”

  Cricket shuddered. Would she have woken up before she plunged out of the plane and fell to her death? “Thanks.”

  Slade’s face relaxed and he winked. “I can’t possibly continue without my mission leader.”

  Now we’re talking. Finally, respect. “Good to know.”

  The plane dipped in elevation. The wheels rumbled as they lowered. Slade growled and shook the steel bars of his cell. The wolf in him wanted to escape and challenge his enemy.

  Cricket sat on her cot and braced for landing. She had to keep her wits about her. Play it right, and they could rescue the kidnapped werewolves. Play it wrong, she’d end up dead.

  The plane touched down and rolled down a runaway of what felt like potholes. She clung on. Bump, bump, bump. Obviously not an airfield. Shitty bad-wolf airline.

  Slade’s fangs extended.

  She kept her tone business-like. “Remember, we are on a rescue mission.”

  He cocked his head and made eye contact. His fangs receded and he winked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The hatch opened and three armed betas dressed in black entered followed by Henrik who grinned at her, his fangs long. His missing right earlobe uncovered as if advertising Slade would pay for biting it off. “Ah, I’m so happy you are awake, my dear…please…what is your real name?”

  She crossed her arms. “Cricket.” Ass-wipe.

  He lifted a brow. “I’m alpha Henrik Ax. Known to lycan society as omega Henri Brown.” He laughed. “I do understand your pet-like name. Why bother naming a runt?”

  Slade growled and she shook her head at him, signaling him to play it cool.

  Henrik turned to Slade. “Actually, a runt who survived the change is of great interest to us.”

  Cricket frowned. “And who is ‘us’?”

  “My dear Cricket, you will soon find out.” Henrik unlocked her cage. “Please, do me the honor of being my guest.” He extended his arm.

  Guest beats corpse. Leery of his intent, she hooked her arm around his.

  Henrik leaned down and took a long inhale. “I see why you make an excellent Lycan agent. You smell almost human.”

  And you smell like ass. She smirked. “So I’ve been told.”

  He turned to his men. “Bring Prince Slade.”

  The men bowed their heads and went to open his cage.

  Henrik addressed Slade. “It would be a shame to have to break her pretty little neck.”

  “I’ll do as you say, as long as she’s not harmed,” said Slade.

  Cricket felt tempted to order Slade to kill them and run, but dying wasn’t a pleasant alternative. Anyway, how would she help the others escape Herr Earless Henrik? If Slade had his memory erased, she’d need to reach Team Greywolf.

  They walked down the cargo plane’s ramp. Two black SUVs waited for them. She scanned the ice field landscape. Alpine glaciers and chilly air. Isolation. “Patagonia?”

  “Why yes, my dear. Have you been here?”

  “No, but Patagonia is on my bucket list.” She snarked. “Minus the company.”

  He laughed. “Indeed.”

  However, getting back to my territory is first on the new bucket list. With Team Greywolf.

  The man she recognized as Pinky or Jack opened the door. “Nice to see you again, Cindy.” He winked. “I mean Cricket.”

  She rolled her eyes and entered the backseat, followed by Henrik. After he shut the door, she looked out the back window. Slade entered the second vehicle without a hitch.

  They drove on an unpaved road until they came to the side of a towering mountain. At least she thought it was the side of a mountain until the natural-looking granite wall opened. It reminded her of the entrance to Batman’s cave.

  The lit underground area had a paved road big enough for an 18-wheeler. Hell of a bunker. They parked in front of a glass building that looked like a lab facility. Slade’s vehicle continued on, but then veered right. Out of her sight. Shit. Where are they taking him?

  “Welcome to Ragnarok Research Area,” said Henrik as he led her out. Jack grabbed her carry-on luggage and followed.

  “As in Norse mythology doomsday?”

  “A new beginning,” Henrik said cryptically.

  “Where are they taking Prince Slade?” Like he would bother explaining, but one never knew.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll join us later for the grand tour.”

  He made it sound like a vacation outing, but her gut told her the tour would be anything but. They entered the glass building that now resembled a state of the art medical research facility, similar to her headquarters. Lycans and humans wearing lab coats worked in various rooms. The smell of disinfectant fluids diffused from the lab rooms throughout the building. Hmm. Breeding a super werewolf race or perhaps something more nefarious? Ragnarok, the Viking Apocalypse did not bode well. Each human had a missing pinky. “So what’s up with mutilating human digits?”

  “It’s part
of their employment agreement.”

  “You mean to join your gang.”

  “Just an extra precaution after they sign the lycan non-disclosure contract to show their loyalty to our cause.”

  “Which is?”

  “Like I said a new beginning toward a perfect world.”

  “That’s kind of vague.” Comic book master of evil vague.

  He pressed the elevator button, and they entered. “All will be explained by our leader, Wolfstrom.”

  Did I just hit my head and end up in a comic book series with an evil werewolf organization lead by a were named Wolfstrom? “No spoilers, I take it?”

  They exited the elevator and walked along a long hallway. He used a keycard to open a door. “You will stay here until we are ready for you. Feel free to shower and or freshen up. You will find all the comforts of a fine hotel.”

  Cricket stepped in. “Not bad. This will do for a short stay.”

  “I’m hoping a longer stay will be in order, yes?”

  Longer meant they’d keep her alive, but for how long? “Until my pack gets here.”

  Henrik laughed. “Do you mean Team Greywolf?”

  Very few outside of Rylee’s pack and the royal sovereigns knew of the elite team of werewolf warriors. Could one of them be a mole? “Team who?”

  “I found details about Prince Slade in Dr. Warner’s locked files. Seems he wishes or has joined the team. The file is where he mentioned you being his calming pill.”

  “Companion.”

  “We’ll pick you up later and introduce you to the rest of our pack.”

  He locked her in. Nonetheless, she tried to open the door. No chance without the master keycard.

  She investigated the so-called hotel room which turned out to look like a hotel suite, minus the entertainment, room service phone, windows and freedom. A prison cell with fine silk blankets and soft white towels.

  Slade allowed the beta wearing a white lab coat to draw his blood.

  After he put away five test tubes of Slade’s blood, the beta nodded. “Done for today.”

  How much more testing of his blood would they do? What the fuck were they looking for? Slade followed a guard back to a white van outside the lab room. He held back a sigh of relief and sat next to Cricket.

  She smiled. “Hey.”

  He growled on seeing her bound by a collar and leash. “Are you okay?”

  “As long as I keep my seatbelt on.”

  He stared down and stiffened. “What the fuck?”

  Henrik who sat next to the driver, turned and flashed a remote. “One push and a small bomb will tear her to pieces.” He sighed. “Cleaning innards out of the grey interior is such dirty work, yes?”

  “I said I won’t try anything.”

  “Good, because I’m quite fond of my remaining ear,” he sneered. “And my new pet.”

  Slade held his temper. Apparently not fond of your head, because next time that’s what I’ll take.

  Slade draped his arm over Cricket. He hoped she knew he’d do whatever it took to protect her. She acted brave, but her pulse raced. “Where we going?”

  “An excursion inside Wolf Lair, and then to dinner to meet our supreme leader, Wolfstrom.”

  He stared out the window in silence. The underground base looked like it had been around for a long time. The smell of werewolves and humans indicated they worked together for some cause. He caught a scent. “So you do keep omegas.”

  “Why of course, they do all the labor, along with the human workers.”

  Cricket tilted her head. “And I thought you kept only alphas and betas to create some supreme super race of werewolves. Zee, Aryan wolf,” she mocked.

  Henrik smiled. “Yes, of course, we prefer alphas and betas, especially for breeding purposes, but that’s not the reason we disposed of the omegas.”

  “So why get rid of them when you obviously keep omegas here?”

  “Wolfstrom will explain everything.”

  Slade narrowed his eyes at Henrik. “Where are you keeping the unchanged ones?”

  Henrik snorted. “So many questions.”

  “Why not tell us? It’s not like we’re going anywhere,” Cricket said.

  “How true you are, little runt.”

  Cricket frowned. “So?”

  “Outside Wolf Lair, there is a pristine forest where the two packs roam in pure bliss.”

  “I suppose you keep them in with an electric fence or walled in so they can’t escape.”

  “Not necessary.”

  Slade felt relieved they were still alive, but how odd they would not make an escape attempt. They must have witnessed their guards and omegas slaughtered. He could only imagine the hate they felt for these evil rogue werewolves. Amnesia drug, he figured.

  A wall opened, and they drove out onto a forest road. After a mile, they crossed a bridge over a moat heading for a castle built on a high cliff. Once they made it over the bridge, it rose. Guards bowed and then used a remote to open the gate. Behind them, the gates closed. How the hell would he get Cricket and the other kidnapped werewolves out of here?

  Henrik turned. “Welcome to Wolf Lair Castle.”

  “Wolf lair?” Slade cocked his head. “Now I remember, Wolf Lair, is what the Nazi werewolf oath breakers named their secret underground bunker?”

  Henrik chuckled. “Ah, so you know your history.”

  Cricket added. “Only the German pack king and their global pack allies wiped them off the face of the earth.”

  “Not all,” said Henrik. “Not Max Wolfstrom’s family and pack.”

  Cricket swallowed. “Wait, as in Dr. Gunter Wolfstrom?”

  Slade lifted his brow. “Who’s that?”

  “A Nazi werewolf who worked on biological weapons at Riems Island,” said Cricket.

  “But every oath breaker was killed,” muttered Slade.

  Henrik smiled. “Yes, so they thought. He and five pack members including his wife and two unchanged pack members escaped with the help of Die Spinne.”

  “The same organization that helped other war criminals like Dr. Josef Mengele escape to South America,” said Slade.

  “Only they blended in with human society while the werewolves escaped into the jungles, where they hid until we found wolf paradise here in Patagonia,” Henrik explained.

  “Wait. The bunkers and Nazi relics found in some Argentinean jungle? Was that part of Wolfstrom’s pack?” Cricket asked.

  “Abandoned long ago. In fact, we no longer follow Nazi ideology.”

  “Good to know.” Cricket smirked. “I hate to ask what new ideology includes kidnapping werewolves.”

  Chapter 14

  Cricket followed Henrik into a grand hall. Slade walked behind her, escorted by two well-armed beta guards. At least they did not carry Wolfsbane rifles, but the bullets would still wound Slade and for sure kill her. She gazed at the walls and shuddered. Built like a replica of some wolf version of Valhalla. Battle scenes, lycans against humans throughout the ages. Victorious werewolves displayed as giant wolves gorging on humans and other gruesome scenes. She scanned the hall. Only werewolves seemed to occupy Wolf Lair Castle. Where had they all come from? This pack had never been accounted for. Many of the lycans roamed around in wolf form. As they trotted by, they bowed in deference to alpha Henrik. How did he cover his alpha scent while working with Dr. Warner? It would be nice to use the formula to hide her low status. No petite alphas existed, but petite betas did. Unfortunately, in their society, size was everything.

  Henrik stopped in front of an arched doorway and knocked.

  “Enter,” boomed a baritone voice.

  She briefly locked eyes with Slade, and then followed Henrik in.

  Henrik bowed. “King Wolfstrom, I present Prince Slade of the Yukon Territory and his runt, Cricket Ruelle.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and her claws emerged. You did not just call me his runt!

  Slade dipped his head. “Your majesty.”

  Cricket furrowed her b
row. So now, he’s playing cool? Behind Derr Fuehrer two huge black uniformed alpha guards were armed with swords. A weird rune insignia over a slanted SS emblem plastered on their lapels.

  The king turned to Henrik. “Leave us.” After he stepped out, the king spoke, “You may call me Wolfstrom, or my academic name, Dr. Wolfstrom, PhD in Microbiology.” The so-called king appeared to be in his late fifties, with gray eyes, baldhead and a well-trimmed gray beard. Tall and broad, matching Slade’s six foot six frame. Unlike Henrik, his accent sounded more Argentinian than German.

  Slade met his eyes. “I was not aware lycans existed in South America.”

  “We have kept our packs a secret from your human loving lycan society.”

  “Until now,” said Slade.

  Cricket raised a brow. Did he say packs? Obviously, a well-kept secret from lycan society.

  Wolfstrom grinned, baring long fangs. “Precisely, until now.” He locked eyes on Slade. “I’m sorry for the death of your pack.”

  Slade scowled. “Every last one involved with my pack’s massacre is dead.”

  Wolfstrom gestured for Slade to sit, but ignored her. Again, having lower status was a bitch. Cricket stood like a good little submissive. Slade slowly sat.

  Wolfstrom remained standing. “So I have heard. I hope they met a gruesome death.” He sighed. “Years ago, we killed members of a criminal Siberian pack we once did business with. You might say we did a violent takeover of their business.”

  Slade curled his lip. “You are no different. Kidnapping lycans. Stealing and killing the unchanged ones. You’re nothing but an oath breaker.”

  Chill. Is he trying to get us killed? She kept her tongue. If she spoke without the alpha’s permission, she’d be punished, if not killed, on the spot.

  Instead of growling, Wolfstrom laughed. “If Stallo were alive, he’d accuse you and your soft lap dogs of being oath breakers.”

  Cricket bit her lip. Wolfstrom had a point. Centuries ago, Stallo, the wolf wizard and first werewolf had intended to create a world meant for the superior lycan rulers. To avoid annihilation by werewolf hunters, their kind had gone underground. Forbidding werewolves from revealing their kind, and killing any human who learned of their existence. Hundreds of years later, they created the non-disclosure law and laws protecting innocent humans from werewolves. Not soft, smart.

 

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