The Aberrants Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Well, sir, it’s not like we can sneak in.”

  “No,” he agreed, mouth pressing into a thin line. He had an idea of we had to do, but he almost didn’t want to admit it. “Definitely not.”

  “Then what?” Javi asked. “It’s not like we have the numbers to storm it.”

  “No, we don’t,” Bradley murmured, eyes scanning the horizon.

  “I don’t like that tone,” Dannon said, face moving to follow me.

  “I don’t blame you. And you’re probably going to like my next suggestion even less.”

  Dannon let out a groan. “You can’t be serious.”

  “What? What is it?” Javi asked, getting up from the hood of my car. “Is this some old man thing that I don’t get?”

  If this was any other time, Bradley might have made him run a few dozen miles to see exactly who was old, but there wasn’t time. “Not an old man thing, a tactical thing.” He sighed and looked to the remnants of his once large team. “We’re going to need to call in reinforcements.”

  Chapter Ten: Machismo

  Bradley

  As much as he hated it, contacting the closest Hunter sect they could find on their radios turned out to be a good idea. Despite the seemingly normal outside, the prison hadn’t been making any of its normal contacts for the past week and a half. When Bradley questioned how the closest clans could just ignore that, they figured it was just the penitentiary radio going down—as it was often wont to do.

  After he gave them thorough chewing out that probably got him blacklisted from any Hunter bar in a fifty-mile radius, they agreed to send two of their closest clusters to help the would-be rescuers. Of course, the locals couldn’t mobilize any sort of actual military power considering that Creed had wiped out two of their outposts in the territory and they were still recovering from the absolute massacre.

  When Bradley had heard that particular line, it was as if Creed’s sporadic crisscrossing of the country finally made sense. Sure, he knew in an abstract way that the sadistic asshole was trying to take down valuable resources and support spots to collapse our already pretty tenuous infrastructure. But suddenly it all became lit up with neon lights. He was a surprisingly clever bastard for being so mad.

  Either that, or Bradley was even more of an idiot than he thought.

  It took three days for help to arrive. And in those two days, they didn’t hear a single word from Jaelle. Not a signal, not a squawk. Nothing.

  Every second that passed haunted Bradley. He was plagued by what could possibly be happening to her, what tortures Creed and his twisted mind might be cooking up for her. In the very back of his mind, he tried to ignore that small, quiet voice that wondered if that monster would lay hands on her in a way no person should do to another.

  It was clear to see that Creed was interested her. Whether that was due to actual attraction to Jaelle or just borne out of her being the only female of his kind he probably ever knew, Bradley couldn’t say. But what he did know was that he didn’t put anything past the twisted man and his greed. It was obvious his lucidity waxed and waned like the moon, which was one of the things that made him that much more lethal.

  The worst part was trying to sleep at night. The leader of the Hunters knew that he needed to rest so he could be ready the moment our backup arrived, but how could he close his eyes and let himself drift off into respite when he didn’t know if Jaelle was even alive? Or maybe the worst part was the guilt. He never should have sent her in alone. But what could he do? Once Jaelle decided something, it was done. And it wasn’t like any of them could do the amazing things that she could.

  She was one of a kind, invaluable.

  And she was all alone.

  Bradley couldn’t blame her if she hated him when all of this was said and done. For such a short time together, he had managed to fail her again and again and again. He was practically useless. He didn’t do useless well.

  The Hunter heard the engines rumbling in the distance before he saw them. He was out of his new ride like a shot and dashed to the horizon line to see a line of vehicles trundling toward us. They certainly could have stepped on it, but he supposed he should have been grateful that they showed up at all.

  “Looks like the cavalry’s here,” Micah said, sidling up beside him like a noiseless shadow.

  “That they are,” Bradley said, hardening himself to the arguments he was sure were about to flood down on them. If there was one thing that he had learned from collaborating with other Hunters, it was that there was always a hardass leader who wanted to get into some ego throw-down over who was the man in charge. Bradley didn’t have time for that, and he was more than ready to smack that down instantly.

  “So,” Dannon said, “we got a plan?”

  The leader of the group narrowed his eyes as he looked over the caravan. “No, but we’re about to.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The blind man sighed. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure I will.”

  “You’re being particularly cagey,” Javi pointed out from where he was still sitting on the ground. “Wanna tell us why?”

  “Just anticipating the worst and hoping for the best.” The cars began to slow to a stop and Bradley walked forward to greet them. It was time to see whether he would regret his decision to trust his own brothers to save a woman they were sworn to kill.

  *

  “I don’t see what all this need for planning is. Why don’t we just use our numbers to storm the place? I don’t care how many prisoners there are. They won’t stand up to a full-frontal assault.”

  Bradley growled and slammed his fist on the hood of their car. They had been discussing options and plans for several hours and while most of the men were on board, a few were being needlessly stubborn, just as the bear Shifter knew they would.

  “How can you know that for sure?” Bradley asked, resisting the urge to shift and fight this out like animals. “Have you read the files? Do you know what kind of murderers, rapists and psychopaths are contained in that building? Shifters who were not so rehabilitatable that we had to lock them up here and throw away the key?

  “All they have to do day in and day out is work out and rot in their plots for vengeance and freedom. Now that that’s been handed to them, I wouldn’t doubt the voracity for which they’d fight to keep it.”

  The Hunter—Bradley hadn’t caught his name yet—bristled. The speaker was taller than him, and his frame was broader, but that didn’t ruffle Bradley in the slightest. He could almost smell the newness on the man. His guess was that the upstart had been at the job for less than a year and was still trying to carve out a place for his name to go down in the annals. Well, he could do that on his own goddamn clock. Bradley didn’t have the time for it.

  “I don’t quite like the way you talk down to us,” another said. He was smaller, with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. His nose was exceedingly crooked, like he had been punched one too many times. “Especially for a man who’s lost sixty percent of your unit.”

  “Did that math yourself?” Bradley shot back. “Or did you inhale a calculator?”

  He tensed and almost started to lunge forward, but both Javi and Micah stepped up to him, staring him down like they were daring him to do something.

  “Look, we’re wasting time arguing. You’ll pardon my abrasiveness, but a woman who’s sacrificed everything for us is being held there by an Aberrant that we’ve been hunting for months. I want her alive, and I want him dead. No matter what we do, we don’t succeed in our mission unless she’s freed in one piece.”

  There was a moment where those words seemed to settle over them. Maybe they were surprised by the passion in Bradley’s voice, or maybe they could see that it wasn’t worth it to argue with him. Either way, the two up starters grew quiet and someone else spoke up.

  “All right then, well what do you propose we do?”

  “We’re not sure of the best plan yet,” Bradley continued, p
utting his practiced calm into action. It would be so easy to fly off the handle and shove his words so down his throat that he would need to get them out with an enema, but if Bradley wanted to be a true leader, he needed to contain his rage. “That’s why all of you are here. Two heads are better than one, so twenty heads has to be downright amazing, right?”

  There was a murmur of agreement and Dannon subtly elbowed his leader. Bradley gave him a look, but the dark-skinned man only winked. Even after all their time together, the leader didn’t think he would ever get used to seeing a blind man bat an eye at him.

  “I have a thought.”

  Bradley looked to the source of the voice. It was quiet and reedy, like someone was recovering from a punch to the throat. “Who said that?”

  “I did.”

  He craned his neck and finally spotted a small woman toward the back of the crowd. She had a blonde pixie cut and vibrant green eyes that slashed through the distance between us. He saw bandages at her throat, and one of her arms in a cast. Why had they sent someone so battered?

  “I don’t know whether to ask you what your thoughts are or who you are or why the hell you’re here.”

  Her thin lips curled into a smile, perhaps the opposite reaction that he had expected. “The name is Maggy. And I’m the only avian Shifter you’ll find for several states over.” Her voice was just bordering on painful to listen to, but she seemed to be doing just fine with it. “And if you’re wondering about the bumps and bruises, I was working undercover for a bit and had an unfortunate fight that involved wolfsbane and a very angry lion Shifter. Wouldn’t recommend the combination.”

  Well, shit. Maybe this woman is tougher than I am.

  “As for my thought, it was that these prisoners have been warned to look out for all of you, but not for any of us. So, what if we just rolled right in the front?”

  Bradley felt the edges of a plan start to come to him, but it wasn’t enough. “I’m going to need a bit more clarification.”

  “Well, I’m not much of a car person so y’all will have to tell me if this is even possible, but why don’t we act like we’re Hunters delivering some sort of dangerous prisoner? We’ll try to keep our number as small as possible, with as many of us hiding out of sight as we can manage. Once we’re inside, a second wave will attack, and while the guards are prepping to fight that off, us in the cars pile out like clowns and get ‘em from the back. It’ll be a Hunter sandwich.”

  A smile grew across Bradley’s face before he could stop it. When everything was all said and done, he would have to see if this Maggy was up for a transfer. Of course, that was if he retained his currently shaky position of command. He was pretty sure that siding with an Aberrant and helping her petition their leaders to redeem her people was going to land several hits on his reputation.

  “I need the specs on all of your vehicles,” Bradley said, nodding to the woman. “Specifically, who has the most smuggling room and leg space.”

  The group dispersed, and for the first time since Jaelle left, he felt hope. He was going to save her, if it was the absolute last thing he did. He would lay down his life without hesitation so that she could have a chance at a happy ending.

  It was the least that she deserved.

  Chapter Eleven: Return to the Infirmary

  It was hard to say exactly when the itching faded. But eventually, as the hours passed, it went from an inescapable torture, to an omnipresent discomfort, to an irritating sensation that came in waves. Night was nearly falling by the time Jaelle felt her sanity start to return, and she observed her surroundings.

  Her eyesight was still hazy, but it wasn’t the unintelligible blur it had been before. She supposed she should be grateful for that, but it was hard to be appreciative when Creed was the first thing she saw.

  She would have flinched away if it didn’t feel like her limbs weighed a million pounds. He was far too close for her comfort, eyes looking down at her with concern unbefitting of his madness.

  “Hey there, how are you feeling?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but it felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. She quickly closed it again, and her tongue flopped about within her teeth, trying to summon up saliva, but failing miserably.

  “Doctor! Something’s wrong!”

  The woman rushed over, a look of fear on her face, but it quickly faded. “Oh. She just has cotton mouth.”

  “What is that, some kind of infection?!”

  Jaelle had the feeling that if he was anyone else, the woman might have laughed. “No. Just a side effect of some of the medicines we gave her. They, along with unconsciousness, can cause one heck of a case of dry mouth. I’ll get her an ice chip to suck on.”

  “Oh, good. Good.” He settled down into the chair that he had pulled closer, looking over Jaelle with relief.

  How dare he! He was the one that put her into this mess. It was his fault that she was still partially blinded. If she wasn’t so drugged up, wolfbane dosed and otherwise enfeebled, she would kick his ass so hard that he might accidentally time travel.

  But no, she couldn’t even spit at him. What a shit way to face-off against her enemy.

  “I’m sorry you have to go through all this,” he murmured, actually looking somewhat regretful. “But if it makes you feel any better, you helped me learn exactly what prolonged contact with extreme cold to a wolfbane weakened Shifter could do.”

  “Yay,” Jaelle wheezed, venom infused into every syllable.

  “Apparently, protocol here is not to keep prisoners in there more than four hours because it’s inhumane. You were in there for a couple days, as you know. Miraculous really. Anyone else might have succumbed entirely.”

  The doctor returned with a cup of chipped ice. Jaelle opened her mouth automatically, her fuzzy vision locked on the bit of Styrofoam in her hands, and the woman carefully placed a small bit of frozen liquid past her open, cracked lips.

  Jaelle had never tasted something so wonderful and refreshing. The little chunk began to melt almost on contact, sending blessed relief through her ravaged mouth as it went. But it was hardly enough to coat her tongue, and within seconds, she was opening her lips again and waiting for another.

  The doctor complied, a mild look of pity on her face, but Jaelle couldn’t bring herself to be mad about it. All she cared about was the hydration.

  Several minutes passed with the woman dutifully tending to the Aberrant, and when she was finally satiated, she felt like a new person. Jaelle supposed that she wasn’t dehydrated considering that she had an IV hooked up to her, so maybe medically induced cotton mouth was more intense than she had thought.

  “You look refreshed,” Creed murmured as the doctor stepped away.

  “Hmm, let’s see,” she said, rolling her tongue around in her mouth. He looked to her curiously, giving her just enough time to summon up some extra saliva.

  She hesitated for the slightest of seconds. If she wanted to play this smart, she would placate herself to the madman. Being on his side until she could figure out how to escape would help her survival.

  But there was a line where even a survivalist like her had enough. She was tired of running. Tired of ingratiating herself to people she hated, people unworthy of her time. For once she had no intention of subterfuge.

  She made her decision, and let the biggest, angriest glob of spit she had ever worked up sail from her mouth to splatter against Creed’s cheek.

  He reeled back, clearly shocked. Jaelle heard the doctor gasp from across the room and quickly exit. Good for her. Maybe one of them would survive the day.

  “You… you…” The Aberrant seemed at a loss for words. It was nice to see him so rattled again. He had been far too in control for far too long in her opinion. “You little bitch!” he screamed, flipping the entire medical bed over.

  Both Jaelle and the mattress clattered to the floor and she went tumbling across the sanitized tile, her IV ripping out as she went.

  Her limbs were still weak and
her vision still cloudy, but she struggled to her feet, nonetheless. She barely got to one knee before a hand connected with her cheek, knocking her to the floor and scoring several deep grooves into her face.

  It strung, but the pain helped rouse her from the fog the medicine put her in. She tried to rise again, only to have that same hand grip her shoulder and bring her to her unsteady feet.

  Suddenly, she was being pushed backwards until she slammed into one of the walls. The back of her head made contact first, making her already slippery grip on reality that much more tenuous.

  “Why do you still fight me?!” Creed screamed, hot breath scouring the wounds on her face. “You were willing to team up with th-those monsters, those murderers, but the idea of allying with me is such an affront!?”

  “What can I say?” she rasped, glaring him down. She couldn’t quite make out his expression, but she imagined that it was utterly enraged. “They were the lesser of two evils.”

  “I. Am. Not. Evil!” he cried, throwing her across the room.

  She crashed into a cabinet, glass and tools falling down around her. Jaelle slid to the ground, preparing for her end, when a wild howl suddenly ripped through the air.

  “What was that?” Creed snapped, pausing in his vicious attack on her being.

  Before Jaelle could think of something smarmy to say, more sounds suddenly rang out. If it wasn’t impossible, she would almost think that it was some sort of fight. But that couldn’t—

  Unless…

  “Bradley,” Jaelle gasped.

  Creed’s eyes went wide and we shared a moment of disbelief. But then his rage seemed to triple and he let out an ear-shattering roar before dashing out the door.