Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series

by Eva Gordon

  Henrik addressed Slade. “Prince Slade, Wolfstrom is impressed with your inner wolf. So feral. You are exactly what we are looking for to join our campaign to take our rightful place as the top predator.”

  Jack smiled at Cricket, and she smirked at him. How did Jack manage to hide his real intentions from Henrik?

  Slade narrowed his eyes at Jack before turning to Henrik. “I’m listening.”

  “We’ll begin with a tour. Come.” They entered a lab facility where at least forty people wearing lab coats conducted experiments. Henrik stopped in front of one area and picked up a vial. “Smell.”

  Slade sniffed. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “Precisely. Cloaking vaporo. We use it to cover our scents.”

  Cricket furrowed her brow. “The formula of the ancient werewolf hunters.”

  “Only better.”

  They stepped up to a glass window. On the other side, a beta female examined a prone lycan with electrodes embedded into his head. “Looks like he’s out of it,” Slade said.

  “The alpha just arrived a week ago from Siberia. We woke him up this morning, and he is responding within expected perimeters.”

  Cricket flinched. If you’re a zombie.

  “Like you, Prince Slade, he too required a bigger dose.”

  “So I’m supposed to sit still while you poke me with needles?”

  “What if Prince Slade agrees to join your uber wolf society?” asked Cricket.

  Six armed guards came in followed by Wolfstrom.

  Not good.

  “Prince Slade, please step into this room.” Wolfstrom gestured to an empty room.

  Deep rage overcame Cricket's better senses. She growled and stepped in front of Slade. “Leave him alone!”

  Wolfstrom laughed. “How cute. Your little runt is being protective.” He scowled at Slade. “Have her step aside, or I’ll put her down before she bites someone.”

  Jack spoke. “Darlin’, come with me.”

  “Go with him,” said Slade.

  She shook her head and stared at Henrik. “You can’t.”

  “Take the prince and proceed,” ordered Wolfstrom. He narrowed his eyes at Slade. “Or, we kill her.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Henrik.

  Slade and Cricket locked eyes, perhaps for the last time, and then he followed Henrik into the chamber.

  She blinked back tears. Please, don’t forget me.

  Wolfstrom grabbed her by the arm. “Let me show you the rest of the facility.”

  Jack stood silent.

  Henrik turned before he shut the door. His eyes appeared cold, dead, flat. “Jack, go with them.”

  Jack gave him a questioning brow then quickly bowed. “Yes, sir.”

  Were they on to him? Cricket shuddered. However, her immediate concern didn’t lie with the mole, but with Slade.

  Slade lay on a cot. He winked at Cricket. A woman hooked him up to an IV.

  Cricket reached for him. “No. Leave him alone…” An armed guard shoved her forward and shut the door.

  Three armed guards tailed them. No escape. Now what?

  “Don’t worry, he’ll survive,” said Wolfstrom.

  No kidding. But with a modified werewolf lobotomy. “Maybe not. After all he’s been through.”

  “It will be better this way. He’ll be a hero to our kind, not theirs.”

  Not better. They walked passed more labs. Some held cages with monkeys and then worse, bigger cages with humans. They wore gray jumpsuits and looked drugged.

  They entered an elevator. Jack’s pulse rate increased. He’d been able to control his dread earlier. What was different, now?

  “Master, I feel nervous,” said Jack.

  Good, better not to lie about his adrenaline rush. Wolfstrom was an alpha’s alpha. Even she shook at the knees in his presence.

  Wolfstrom jutted his chin at Jack, his eyes narrowed in distain. “I know, human, you must feel out-numbered?”

  “Yes, master, that’s it.”

  Wolfstrom smiled. “I understand.”

  Cricket bit the inside of her cheek. What the heck was going on? Jack belonged to Henrik and if caught spying didn’t his primary master decide his fate? Wolfstrom hated all humans, even the ones loyal to his pack.

  The elevator dropped. Biosafety Level 1, 2, 3, 4. They went down to the level 4.

  Jack’s heart rate climbed. “I need a bio suit, master.”

  Wolfstrom narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Trust me, human.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Master, Biosafety Level 4 requires a suit, regardless,” said Cricket. “For humans.”

  Wolfstrom grinned down at her. “Indeed. I forgot you were trained in the biological sciences. Perhaps, since you are more human than wolf you are a bit concerned?”

  “Yes, master.”

  The doors opened. Behind the glass, lycans prepared solutions alongside two humans dressed in bio-suits with respirators. How much did their loyal humans know about Wolfstrom’s nefarious plans to wipe out humans?

  They walked past several empty blood-stained rooms and opened the last room. A clean one.

  “Variant Midgard’s incubation period is six hours, often less,” said Wolfstrom.

  Cricket blinked. “You’ve exposed humans?”

  “We had 1000 test subjects of both genders and all ages. Now we prepare for the final release.”

  Cricket gaped. Shit. Since he told her the plan, he probably didn’t intend to let her live. Or worse, thought she’d go along with his plan.

  Jack paled. Didn’t his secret cabal want to carry out population control as well?

  “Don’t look so shocked, Jack,” said Wolfstrom. “I mean Robert Kraig.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Coldness hit her core. Yep, we are both dead.

  Wolfstrom smirked. “You heard me. Robert, son of Alistair Kraig.

  Jack bowed. “Master, I’m Jack Tate, Henrik’s devoted servant.”

  Cricket chimed in. “Yeah, he was instrumental in capturing Prince Slade.”

  Wolfstrom narrowed his eyes at her. “Robert’s father is the head of The Keep.”

  She stared at Jack who, exposed, kept his cool and frowned at her.

  “Is that what this bitch told you?” asked Jack.

  “Hey, how would I know anything?” she spat.

  “Henrik discovered your deception a few days ago.”

  Long before their secret note writing last night, but how? She crossed her arms over her chest. See, it wasn’t me, sucker.

  Jack stiffened. “What?”

  Wolfstrom grabbed Jack by the shoulders and lifted him up to meet his eyes. “Your father wants to reinstate werewolf hunting, doesn’t he?”

  Jack under his alpha spell, nodded. “Yes.”

  Wolfstrom threw him against the wall, and he landed with a thud, stunned. The alpha turned to her. “He stole our new formula for masking scents.”

  “So why didn’t Henrik kill him?” asked Cricket.

  “I ordered him not to. Better I send Alistair a message to stay out of our business.”

  Jack stood and straightened. “We won’t let you get away with this madness!”

  “Madness?” Wolfstrom sneered. “It is The Keep, which has kept the world at war with their false flags and control of all global governments. Not that I’m complaining. You helped lay the groundwork for the end of your kind and the rise of ours.” He stepped out and closed the door behind her and Jack or Robert, though she still preferred Pinky; but most likely dead meat would be his new name.

  “Hey, I’m not with stupid,” said Cricket.

  “If you survive, I might yet convince you to join our cause.”

  “What?”

  Wolfstrom smiled. “I’m curious to see just how human you are.” He and his guards left.

  Cricket gulped. “You are?”

  Chapter 16

  Cricket paced the cell, looking for an escape route. None.

  Jack, or Robert, was it, laughed a
s if the whole werewolf apocalypse thing amused him. “At least I know I’ll be dead in a few hours, but you’ll end up as his vivisection subject.”

  “Don’t give up just yet. Keeping you hostage might serve his cause.”

  “Father knew I was on a possible suicide mission.”

  “And he was cool with that?”

  “To be honest, he trusted I’d come back after destroying their facility.”

  Yep, cockiness was a sure fire way to die a stupid death. “And you thought I blew your cover?” She stared out the window. Her white-furred wolf hero was nowhere in sight. Had they already erased his memories? If they were true mates, their scent remained embedded no matter what. Yet, how could they be mates? Only if he took a primary mate and kept her on the side. Mother made the mistake of loving an alpha, she would not.

  “Henrik never figured out I was the mole so I thought I’d get away with it.”

  Cricket frowned. Perhaps he knew all along? “Did The Keep really want to initiate werewolf hunting?”

  “Shut up!” Jack reached for the camera and ripped it off the wall.

  “Not bad for a human.”

  He stomped on the camera. “Fucking cannibalistic shifters.”

  “Don’t lump all of us in Wolfstrom’s category. The rest of us keep to a non-human diet regimen.”

  “Werewolves are abominations,” he snapped.

  Cricket shrugged. “Whatever.” She furrowed her brow. “Did you at least smuggle in a tracking device?”

  “All humans were strip searched and sniffed for any devices before boarding the plane. I couldn’t even risk bringing one aboard treated with the scent masking solution on it.” He snorted. “They removed the tracking device from your suitcase.”

  So I noticed. “It would have been helpful, if you’d confided in us about your mission,” she snarked.

  “There is no us, bitch.”

  Okay, so he hates werewolves, I get it. “Don’t you think we should get along until the end? Robert?”

  He pressed a fist to his forehead. “Fuck, why not?”

  “Tell me you guys created a vaccine?”

  “Yes, but not for Variant Midgard.” He shrugged. “I was vaccinated against Variant Y, our weaponized Marburg virus, but I doubt it’ll offer protection.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “Wolfstrom must be stopped.”

  “We agree. Just the how is the problem.” She glanced around. “I’m open to any ideas no matter how far out of the box or cage.”

  They searched for weaknesses in the escape-proof cell. None. He pounded his fists on the walls until they bled. He shouted, “You fucking lycans will serve humans.”

  But we do, at least indirectly. Had the virus begun to affect his mind? “Actually, Team Wolfstrom plans to serve mankind with a side of hot sauce.” She wrinkled her nose. The smell of cooked human meat nauseated her. How soon before Slade ate human flesh?

  Robert glowered at her with bloodshot eyes and kicked the door.

  In frustration, Cricket howled. Would Slade hear her? She pressed her cheek against the glass. “Slade.”

  Robert abruptly ended his tirade and turned to her. “By now, your hero doesn’t remember anything about you or the LIA.”

  “You think the new formula will work on Slade?”

  “Henrik upped the dose and it finally worked on the Siberian werewolf.”

  “Maybe he was not as strong a wolf as Slade.” She hoped.

  “Nikolay was perhaps even stronger, but it worked. I observed him. He thinks he’s lived here most of his later life.”

  Who’s Nikolay? Was he another mob werewolf that had escaped their radar? “Slade’s wolf will fight the drug.” He must.

  “If Slade’s not careful, he’ll end up reverting to wolf form with no memory of ever being human.”

  Cricket sighed dejectedly. “Werewolf lobotomy.”

  “If the new drug doesn’t work, they’ll kill him. Just like they did with the omegas. Like they will with you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Geez, that’s comforting.”

  “I hope you have a chance to stop them.”

  “Good to know you have a soft spot for some humanity.”

  He scoffed. “Sheep. Which is why my father will have werewolves destroyed. Better The Keep rather than werewolves ruling humans.”

  “I like your touchy feely approach to your kind.”

  He pressed a hand to his brow as if warding off a headache.

  “So your daddy runs The Keep and didn’t give a shit if you got caught?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” He whirled around and punched her in the gut.

  Winded, she held onto her belly. If the ass wanted a fight, he’d get one. Course that had to wait until the pain subsided and her breath returned.

  Cricket rasped, “I don’t give a shit, anyway.”

  He scowled. “I killed the omegas at Warner’s lab, and maybe I’ll do the same to you.”

  She straightened, and her fangs extended. “Coward. I bet you shoot wolves from helicopters.”

  He laughed. “It doesn’t matter. By tomorrow, you’ll be just as dead as me.”

  “I survived the change. Don’t count on me dying of Variant Midgard.”

  “Runts are practically human, are they not?”

  “So they say.” Cricket faced him. No reason he couldn’t be neutered before his death.

  Suddenly, he leaned on the wall, his sweaty brow and increased body temperature the first sign of the virus. His eyes were glassy, bloodshot and the odor of decay already escaping his pores. Mood swings, definitely part of the illness.

  She looked at the vent. Could she succumb to it? “The incubation period is much faster than six hours.”

  “Improved.” Robert stared feverishly at her. “Fuck them.” He opened his mouth and removed a back molar.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Ending it.” The molar fumbled out of his fingers, and she grabbed it in the air. It held a tablet inside.

  “Give it back, bitch!” He reached, but stumbled.

  “Cyanide, easy way out, huh?”

  Blood oozed out of his nose and his veins throbbed, like red rivers ready to burst and flood out of his skin.

  With no tissue around to clean his face, the best she could do was to keep him calm. “Save your energy and maybe pray your vaccine against the other variant offers some help.”

  He plopped on the bench and pinched his nose, his head high. He groaned. “Just give me the damn pill.”

  Her ribs still aching from his fist, she winced and stomped on the tablet.

  “No,” he croaked.

  Her claws extended. “I can kill you swiftly.”

  Jack looked at her and smiled with blood-stained teeth. “Go for it.”

  She flinched. He stank like rotting flesh. “First talk.”

  The dying man stopped smiling and moaned.

  “Is a human mole working within our packs?”

  “Fuck you.” Jack coughed up blood.

  Cricket touched her hot sweaty brow. Despite her dominant human side, she had never once caught a human cold or illness. She’d been ill, but always from infections caused by injuries and from her close but painful brush with death during the change. Never from human diseases.

  He wiped his spittle and rasped. “No mole could fool wolves.”

  “You did.”

  He twisted a clownish grin. “For an entire year.”

  “But how did they find out now?”

  He shivered and stuttered, “Him. Henrik…beee…ttrayed…me.”

  If only she could keep him alive. He’d be a treasure trove of information regarding how The Keep masked intentions from lycans. Even if they escaped, in less than an hour, he’d crash into a mass of bloody pulp. “Of course, he would. But how and why now?”

  He closed his eyes, and his teeth chattered.

  “Please, who else has penetrated our packs?” Her claws extended. “I’m offering you mercy.”


  “Betray my kind?” Jack’s bloodshot eyes opened, and he lunged at her.

  She kicked him in the groin, sending him crashing to the ground.

  He lay folded on his side. “Bitch.”

  “You attacked me.” She frowned. “Here, let me help up you to the cot.”

  He grunted, but then began to seize.

  Cricket called out. “Help!”

  Finally, he stopped jerking. Blood oozed out from every orifice, and his skin peeled until he looked like a spongy mess of skin, blood and bursting guts. His eyes glazed over as death ended his pain.

  Ooh. Gruesome even for her.

  Cricket backed away, gagged on bile and threw up.

  Dizzy, she leaned against the door and banged on the window. “Get me out!”

  Wolfstrom and two other werewolves in lab coats came to look, their tablets out.

  “How do you feel, my dear?” asked Wolfstrom.

  Cricket shivered, and her muscles ached. No. Not me. “Sick.”

  “Yes, our instruments indicate you have a fever. No bleeding yet, I see.”

  “Eat shit.” Cricket snarled and blood laced drool dribbled from her mouth.” She whimpered, not so much from pain, but knowing in less than ten minutes, she’d melt into a puddle of goo. Better to die with some dignity as she came into the world. A wolf. She tore off her clothes and shifted.

  “Subject is shifting, interesting.”

  Cricket crawled to the door, her tongue lolling, and her body shook as if struck by lightning. Her eyes rolled back. Helpless and engulfed in darkness.

  Slade blinked at the light shining in his left eye. Where was he? Who was he? He lay on a cot, electrodes attached to his temples, and an IV embedded in his wrist. He ripped off the electrodes from his skull and IV from his arm. He growled. “What the fuck!”

  He flared his nostrils. A man, an alpha, smiled. “How do you feel, Prince Bain?” He signaled two betas to step closer. They picked up the plugs he’d pulled off.

  Bain, that’s my name? He slowly sat and looked around. “I’m a prince?”

  “Yes. A prince amongst our superior pack. Son of King Wolfstrom.”

  “You smell familiar. Do I know you?” His German accent didn’t help his memory.

  “Yes, I’m Henrik. We are good friends.” He touched the area around his missing ear lobe. “Remember how I lost my ear?”