by Sarah Noffke
Sudden doubt overwhelmed Grant’s features before he regained his composure. “Of course, sir,” he said, offering a final salute to his boss.
Chapter Five
“Zephyr Flournoy – Age: Twenty-five. Height: Six foot, zero inches. Weight: One hundred seventy-five pounds. Hair: Black/Silver. Eyes: Gray. Ethnicity: White. Employment: Discharged Special Forces Captain. Skill: Controls wind. Rank: Alpha Wolf.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
“So you don’t really like me, do you?” Rox said, strolling beside Zephyr through the Institute corridor.
“Is it that obvious?” Zephyr said, his face impassive and his eyes on the open door up head. Aiden had asked that he come by the lab again for more testing and Rox was accompanying him because lately that’s what she did. She was always at his side, one way or another. Even when she didn’t randomly show up to review case files, he sought her out, inventing a reason why he’d called for her attention. This time he’d told her that Aiden needed a control study, but it didn’t have to be her that offered a blood sample. The head scientist had even said that he’d provide it himself, but Zephyr had waved him off, saying that the researcher shouldn’t have to do the work and also offer up his own blood.
“Before when you were explaining how the wolf creates impulses in you, even when you’re not changed…” Rox trailed away, a coy smile on her face. She loved games, Zephyr had learned. And although he’d avoided this kind of troublesome playfulness in the past, it somehow appealed to him now. Or maybe it appealed to the wolf, like a game of fetch.
Zephyr paused, turning to face Rox. “You think that whatever it is that may or may not be going on between you and me is a result of the strange impulses? Is that right?”
She regarded him behind her long, black eyelashes, an amused look on her face. “I think you have zero idea. How could you? Where does Zephyr end and the wolf begin? You’re not you anymore, but rather a conglomeration of a Dream Traveler, a wolf, and the remnants of a ghost named Zephyr.”
“Sometimes when you talk, I want to kill myself,” he said, continuing the trek down the blue carpeted hallway.
“I’m right, though, aren’t I?” Rox said at his back, not having moved from her spot.
He turned and faced her again, not really seeing the girl in front of him, only hearing her words for a moment prior trail through his head. She was right. Too often Rox, who looked like a plastic Barbie doll, made observations that startled him to his core. Zephyr shook off his frustration with a toss of his head. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right,” he said, his eyes swiveling up to the figure approaching at Rox’s back. From ten feet away, Adelaide offered him an unwelcoming scowl.
“Go get your vet checkup, Zeppy,” she called from down the hallway. “I’m fairly certain I’ll have a mission for you and Lipstick real soon.”
Adelaide tapped the button for the department space labeled “Panther.” Usually those who weren’t news reporters weren’t allowed in that space, which was always quiet, with the purplish lights on dim. Adelaide had been one of the few outsiders to witness the space where the team of clairvoyants collected future events of importance. This was because Ren Lewis didn’t abide by rules, and often she followed him, watching and observing as he strong-armed the news reporters. Usually they were encouraged to only observe whatever future event occurred to them naturally during their sessions, but Adelaide’s father always found this to be a haphazard approach and pushed the news reporting department to focus their efforts. Too often he could be found bullying a misty-eyed clairvoyant into honing their attention on a specific person or event. This was one reason that his department had been so successful during his reign. And it was one reason that the department was currently failing. Adelaide’s new boss, Trent Reynolds, didn’t have the same authority as Ren, meaning that the eyes and ears of the Institute were usually blind. However, one of the best news reporters had just returned from maternity leave and Adelaide wasn’t going to allow a bit of insubordination to stop her from gaining information.
Stomping through the quiet department space, Adelaide didn’t come to a halt until she spotted the person she was looking for. There, lying in a reclining chair, was a girl of about her age, her blonde hair draped over her relaxed shoulders. Above the chair shone the purplish light, which was intended to induce a calming atmosphere. In three steps, Adelaide sidled up next to the seat where the girl lay, her ears covered with sound-canceling headphones. With a sneaky grin hiding on her face, Adelaide slammed her palm straight down on the side of the leather upholstered chair, sending the girl bolting into an upright position. Roya yanked the headphones off her head, staring around like an earthquake was assaulting the Institute. Fear receded into frustration when the clairvoyant found Adelaide standing beside her, arms crossed.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Roya said, her face flushing with anger.
“Eons ago. And good, I’m glad you’re awake. I need your attention on something,” Adelaide said. “Actually, I need your attention on a lot of things, so clear your schedule.”
“I don’t work for you or the strategic department,” Roya said, swinging her legs over the side of the chair, pinning her arms beside her. One thing that Adelaide always appreciated about this snotty American girl was that she didn’t do pretenses. You always knew what Roya was thinking and it was hardly ever pleasant. However, her skill as a clairvoyant was unmatched and her reports were never wrong. It was because of the future events Roya saw that most people on the globe were still alive. And now Adelaide was going to employ this reliable skill for her own purposes.
“You work for the Institute and so do I. Therefore, I need you to focus your clairvoyance on finding a series of people for me,” Adelaide said, remembering what her father had always told her. Don’t ask people to do things. Tell them. And NEVER allow them to believe they are doing you a favor.
“I just returned from maternity leave,” Roya said, crossing her arms in front of her chest to match Adelaide’s position. “I’m not even working full time yet.”
“And may I just say that you don’t look as fat as I would have thought after multiplying,” Adelaide said, with a disingenuous smile.
“Well, it appears that you’ve inherited your father’s humor,” Roya said, blinking her eyes to adjust them in the dark.
“And I inherited his mind control, so I suggest that you willingly take on some projects or I’ll force you to do them.”
“You know you’re not allowed to use mind control on Lucidites,” Roya said.
“Yes, but also like my father, I’m such a fucking airhead and I forget the rules,” Adelaide said, enjoying this banter too much. Roya had been one of the only Lucidites to not pity her. The girl had respected her father and also detested him. And from the beginning that loathing had seeped over onto Adelaide, ensuring that she had an enemy from the beginning. Life wasn’t fun without someone to fight with and Roya didn’t have the same politeness as most Lucidites.
“What is it that you want from me?”
“Well, besides seeing you stop breeding?” Adelaide said, with a mock curious look.
“You bred too,” Roya said.
“Just the once though. Not twice like you. And I don’t even raise my little terror because I’m devoted to the Lucidites,” Adelaide said.
“Wow, you sound like an amazing mother and citizen,” Roya said, her voice flat.
“Anyway, since I have actual shit to do, I’m going to end this convo. I’m sending over a file with notes on ten men. You will focus all your news reporting efforts on finding the location of these men. And start with the one named Connor Luce. I want him found, and right away,” Adelaide said, and turned and marched away at once, knowing that Roya was rolling her eyes at her back.
Trey and Trent Underwood, the Head Official and the Head Strategist for the Lucidites, were parked in the hallway when Adelaide exited the news reporting department. Well, Trey was literally parked, his wheelchai
r unmoving in the middle of the corridor. Trent stood beside him, looking down, worry always on the guy’s face. Even before he took over the position as head strategist from Ren, he had a heavy weight carved into his face. Ren used to enjoy telling him this, insulting him by pointing out new wrinkles on his young face.
“Why does everyone hang out in the hallways these days?” Adelaide said, coming around the pair so she was facing them. “Does no one in this bloody place have a damn thing to do? Meanwhile I’m over here trying to save the fucking world.”
Trey released a small smile. Adelaide’s words were a direct quote from her father, who had been Trey Underwood’s longest and closest friend.
“Actually, we were just discussing the werewolf who went missing,” Trent said and then shot his head around to where Adelaide had just exited. “What were you doing in the Panther room?”
“I was giving Roya news reporting instructions, obviously,” Adelaide said. “And why is that any of your concern? It’s my case.”
“It is your case, but as your superior, I need to be aware of the ramifications of housing and trying to protect the werewolves and this to me speaks of a great concern,” Trent said.
“What? I’ve got this under control,” Adelaide said, worry springing to her mind. The head officials had never meddled in her father’s cases after he took a demotion. Why would they be poking their nose into her first level five case? They don’t think I can handle it. That’s what this all means, she thought.
“Everyone has complete faith in you, especially me,” Trey said, his voice soothing and full of unyielding compassion. “The concern Trent is speaking about is trying to tame these men. Connor Luce running away from a safe place where he was protected is behavior that suggests that many of these werewolves might have a psychological tendency toward irrational behavior. And this is completely understandable based on the background of the twelve men and what has been done to them. We were actually looking for you, knowing that you would already have a solution in place for this. Trent and I were simply curious what brilliant strategy you had been working on here.”
Too much diplomacy. That’s what Ren used to say about Trey. That’s why they had been such good friends. Where Ren was straightforwardly rude, Trey was thoughtfully tactful. Adelaide didn’t know if she believed half of what came out of the Head Official’s mouth, especially based on the questioning look on Trent’s face.
“I’m well aware that the men have a diabolical nature, which is why I’m headed to Aiden’s lab to see how far he’s come with his research. I’m confident that what has been done to these men can be undone. Until then, I plan to use mind control on the little mutts to ensure they stay at the Institute and follow all my commands. My misguided thinking was that their alpha could keep control them, but although Zephyr will be helpful collecting the pack, he is not yet the leader that will keep them in line. He proved that with Connor, but I’m already working to have the loser returned here. That was my first order to Roya,” Adelaide said.
“And need I remind you that we don’t give orders to the news reporters? When I told you she was back at reporting, we also discussed letting the natural visions come to her without prodding,” Trent said.
“But that was a loser approach so I decided not to listen to you,” Adelaide said, hoping that she sounded so much like Ren that she wouldn’t be disciplined. He’d gotten away with it his whole life and she desperately needed to as well. She needed to be just like Ren Lewis, or otherwise, what was the point in her miserable existence? She had too much power. Too little confidence. And a record full of mental health issues and crimes.
She turned briefly around, catching the look of boiling anger on Trent’s face. Ren had always gotten under his dark skin too, but Trent had respected her father. “Also, I assigned an agent to infiltrate Mika Lenna’s company, Parantaa Research. They will be dream traveling there to find clues. I’m hoping we discover a lead into Olento Research by doing that. We need a location on the bloody place,” she said and then turned around, headed for Aiden’s lab.
“Adelaide, you’re not allowed to assign—”
“Don’t worry, you can thank me later,” Adelaide said, cutting Trent off.
“So you can’t have blood withdrawn?” Zephyr said, shaking his head at Rox.
She laughed, enjoying the dumbfounded look on everyone’s face. “I can’t have blood taken, get shots, or pretty much have any types of surgery, that I know of. What did you think it meant when I told you that my skin was resistant?” Rox said.
“That you couldn’t get hurt,” Zephyr said, turning for the exit just before Adelaide entered the lab.
“Well, when you’re resistant to pain, you’re resistant to intervention as well,” Rox said.
“This is actually fascinating,” Aiden said, stroking his clean-shaven chin and then running his hands through his chaotic black hair. “I’ve never seen a Dream Traveler gift like this.”
“You mean the ability to repulse with a single glance?” Adelaide said, walking further into the room. “Yeah, Rox here has this extraordinary gift to repel people from several yards away. It’s quite the feat.”
“Actually, when I’m not busy studying the werewolves, I’d love the opportunity to run some tests on you,” Aiden said to Rox, ignoring Adelaide’s insult.
“Didn’t you hear? You can’t take samples from her,” Kaleb said from his position leaning against a workbench. He looked utterly bored by this conversation, but Rox had observed that the almost-kid often appeared disinterested, like hanging out with a special race at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean wasn’t a big deal.
“There’s other tests I can run to determine genetic makeup and Dream Traveler skill. MRIs, EKGs, you know, the tests that don’t depend on skin invasion,” Aiden said, his eyes now buzzing with excitement.
“I know that Rox is a zoo animal. And we all want to know how she has resisted evolution, but our efforts need to be on studying the werewolves,” Adelaide said, and Rox just caught the hint of jealousy in her voice. Well, she hoped it was jealousy. From as far as Rox could tell, Adelaide had it all. A prestigious position. Incredible skill. The respect of everyone at the Institute. And even a degree of reverence that she didn’t understand. There was something mysterious about the redhead and Rox was going to figure it out.
“Yes, of course. And honestly, studying Rox’s resistance will be a long-term pet project. I’m certain that if Olento Research can manufacture werewolves and give subjects invisibility, then I can do something similar. Wouldn’t it be amazing to gift an agent with resistance while in the field?” Aiden said to Adelaide.
“I guess,” she said, her voice disinterested and her eyes on an iPad on the workbench next to Kaleb. “Wasn’t that just on the other table?” she said, pointing at the object.
Aiden blanched, his eyes widening. “I think it was,” he said, walking over and taking the iPad. “That’s odd, it looks like someone was playing games on it.”
Adelaide rounded on Rox. “Seriously, go back to the FBI unless you’re going to do some real work,” she said to the other girl.
“Ha-ha. It wasn’t me. Now didn’t you say you’d have a case for Zep and me?” Rox said.
“Yes, I said I would have one for you and Zephyr,” Adelaide said, stressing his name. “Go get your hooking done now because I expect Roya to have a report for us soon.”
“Who is Roya?” Zephyr said.
“She’s the reason that all of Rox’s flirtations don’t work on Aiden, aka, his wife. And she’s going to tell us where we can find Connor, as well as the rest of the pack,” Adelaide said.
“Married?” Rox said, pouting her lips at Aiden. “Too bad, because I love a guy with great hair.” This over-the-top flirtation was meant to provoke both a grimace from Adelaide and a reaction from Zephyr. From Rox’s peripheral she realized she’d been successful. However, Zephyr was the one who grimaced and Adelaide actually turned and stalked from the room. It was really too easy t
o get under her freckled skin and make her angry. It was becoming Rox’s favorite hobby and one of the many reasons she wanted to become a full-time resident of the Institute.
Chapter Six
“Connor Luce – Age: Twenty-two. Height: Five foot, eleven inches. Weight: One hundred sixty-five pounds. Hair: Brown/Red. Eyes: Green. Ethnicity: White. Employment: None/Discharged from Rehab. Skill: Psychometry. Rank: NA/Missing.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“What was that commotion I heard the other night?” the woman with a head of fake auburn curls said. Women in their seventies didn’t have vibrant red hair or tight skin stretched over their cheekbones. However, Mrs. Wilson wasn’t a typical elderly lady.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Orion said, his chin down, eyes on the wood floors of the brownstone apartment building.
If her face could allow such things the old woman would probably have raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “I think you do know what I mean. That racket always comes from your room, usually on the weekends.”
What was he supposed to say, that she was right and it was the werewolf destroying the room he rented because he wanted out of the padlocked door? The dumb beast never knew where Orion hid the key because as far as he could tell it didn’t have a memory of his life, but the reverse wasn’t true. He always remembered what happened when he changed. He remembered the destruction. The way the animal stood looking out the three-story window, thinking of breaking it and taking the jump, the one that might kill Orion Murray. The wolf terrified him, but everything did, really.