The Aberrants Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Sarah J. Stone

  He stopped just inside the doorway and gestured her inside. She followed, but he further surprised her by pulling out her chair. Goodness, he was going through all the steps one by one, wasn’t he?

  She settled down and he pushed her toward the table. She noted that there was no food or drink anywhere, so either that was coming later, or this was going to be in her top five worst dates.

  “Wine?” he asked, almost as soon as he sat across from her.

  “Beer,” she answered, sending him a crooked smile.

  “Good, because I was bluffing. I may be talented, but getting wine into this prison is far beyond my scope.” He laughed lightly and made a short whistle with his lips. Jaelle’s senses were just starting to return to normal, and she winced at the high pitch.

  Not even a minute after that, another Shifter appeared. He was relatively slight, with a buzzcut and features so severe that they looked carved into wood rather than structures of actual flesh and blood. He placed a beer bottle in front of each of them, then set down two glasses and a pitcher of water. It was so surreal, Jaelle wanted to pinch herself, but she needed to be on her best behavior to sell the act.

  The Shifter left wordlessly and before she could even look at the label, Creed took the bottle from her and popped the cap with his nail.

  “I could have done that myself,” she said in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner.

  “Could you have? I would have thought the wolfsbane would be preventing that.”

  “Oh, maybe you’re right.” She held her hand up and concentrated on a very mild sort of half-shift. Sure enough, her nails didn’t transition into claws and the back of her hands grew no fur. “Would you look at that? I guess you know my body better than me.”

  “No, not yet.”

  She didn’t miss the implication, but she glossed right over it. “Can I have my beer back now?”

  He smirked and pushed her the refreshment. She grabbed it, and downed half before he could get handsy with her bottle again.

  “Slow down. While there’s at least six more to be had, I would prefer you not be inebriated for this.”

  “Really? I would have thought you would want me a bit tipsy. You know what they say about alcohol and loose lips.”

  “We’re Shifters. We always know when we’re lying to each other. And I would like to think that we’re past that point.”

  “You’re about to lead a revolution that will completely upend what little power structure we do have. You’ll never be past that point with anyone for the rest of your life.”

  He paused at that, and seemed to consider her words. “You know, I never thought of it that way.”

  “I figured,” she answered, taking another long gulp of her drink. It wasn’t like the alcohol had a chance to affect her yet with her Shifter metabolism, but it still helped to bolster her courage. The placebo effect, she supposed. “See, that’s the difference between you and me.”

  “Can you clarify on that?”

  “You’re an idealist. A dreamer. You want justice, and vengeance, and for things to be right. I’m a survivalist. I recognize that there will never really be true justice, or vengeance, and that people will always screw you over to get what they want.”

  “That’s a rather depressing outlook.”

  “I know. And that’s why I’m here with you. Maybe if you, an idealist, had someone like me on your team, we could both end up coming out okay.”

  “That makes it sound like you’re using me.”

  Crap. She needed to play this next step carefully. Slowly, she shrugged and let her eyes drift down to the table. “I suppose I might be? It’s hard to say. Sometimes I think I don’t know what it is to have a genuine interaction with anyone. Am I even capable of connecting with someone else in a way that’s real and not motivated by personal gain?” She finished chugging her beer and sighed. “Shit way to live, right? And I have no one to blame but myself.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

  She smiled at that. “Fair enough. It wasn’t like I hunted myself down.”

  “Now, that would be a feat I’d be impressed by.”

  She clicked her tongue. “What, are you saying you’re not impressed by me already? I have managed to go toe to toe with you several times, something I don’t think most people can say.”

  “True. You are the only opponent I’ve ever had who could single-handedly counter me. Normally, it takes a team of trained Hunters and quite a bit of weaponry to do that. Even that’s not always successful.”

  She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so she picked up the pitcher of water and poured them both a drink. “So, is there gonna be food at one point, or are we just wetting our whistles while discussing our futures, and, ya know, the future of our entire kind?”

  He grinned wickedly at that. “Doesn’t it give you chills to think of it? We’re right at the cusp of changing all of our lives. You’re the oldest Aberrant I’ve ever met, but can you imagine how many of us are in hiding? I know we’re not the only ones to get away.

  “We’re stronger, as a species, you know? It’s inevitable that we would eventually end up on top. Without us, it might have taken a century or maybe two, but we’re about to give it the shove to break the balance.”

  “Have you managed to find any of them?” Jaelle asked. “These other Aberrants? It won’t be safe for them when the fighting starts, and I would hate for them to be used against us.”

  “Yes, that would be terrible. I hadn’t thought too much about that. I had assumed they would flock to us in droves, but there is the chance that they wouldn’t know where we were or how to find us.”

  “You never thought about it? That’s a strange oversight for someone trying to save our kind.”

  “True. I guess you’re already being of use to me after all.” He whistled again, and Jaelle heard shuffling down the hall. It seemed there was a whole group of men waiting just in the distance in case she tried something. That was too bad, because it would be a great chance to kill Creed while he was relaxed. But she couldn’t rest. She needed to be absolutely certain she would come up on top and there wouldn’t be a single witness.

  No, she had to bide her time and find the absolutely perfect place to end their stories.

  “Good. Maybe I’ll be able to die knowing I did something worthwhile.”

  “Die? Is there something I should be aware of?” He raised an eyebrow at her and she wanted to furiously rub it off with her sleeve. Everything about him made her stomach twist. He was such a cloying, disgusting facsimile of normal. Or a caring, charismatic individual who wasn’t a mass murderer.

  “No,” she answered. “But if there is a single thing that I’ve learned in my life, it’s that tomorrow is never guaranteed. In fact, the next minute isn’t even promised. Just a faint hope that I make every sixty seconds last for another.”

  “I’m not sure if speaking to you is a revelation or depressing.”

  “Why not both? You wanted to know how I survived so long, well, a borderline nihilistic outlook has done me wonders.”

  “Huh. I’ll note that for later.”

  Finally, the same lanky Shifter returned with two plates in hand. Jaelle wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t two steaks with a heaping side of mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables.

  “How did you get this?” she asked as the man set it down in front of her. “This is a prison, right?”

  “Simple, we requisitioned it for the warden’s tenth anniversary here. As far as everyone knows, this place is still running like a dream.”

  “But what about the employees? Surely, one of them has family?”

  “Actually, not most. It seems one of the employment requirements was that the workers here be relatively unattached. When we do get the occasional letter from a concerned mother, aunt, or cousin, we look up what we can in the database and write them back. I’ve had to take on their voices for a couple of extreme cases, but other than that, you’d be su
rprised how easy it is to pull the wool over the eyes of our crumbling leadership.”

  “Huh. I guess you plan really is coming together. Seems like you don’t really need me at all.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You’ve already brought up a couple of ideas that I never would have thought of myself.”

  “I would say you’re just flattering me, but my ego won’t let me let go of the compliment.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t think vanity would be among your vices.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She picked up the silverware that the server-Shifter had left and started cutting into her meal. “I’m practically all the seven deadly sins combined.”

  “Ah, so maybe they’re right and you are an abomination.”

  “Through and through,” she answered before stuffing her face with the first bite of food.

  It was surprisingly good, considering it was cooked by a random prisoner in a max security establishment. Better than what she would have made on her own, most likely. Or at least on her own without a grill.

  The thought of throwing a couple of thick cuts on the ol’ grill made her mind instantly flick back to Braywire, and it took all of her willpower to shut that out of her mind before she could be doused in bitter nostalgia and Creed smelled it on her.

  “You seem to like the food.”

  She swallowed and shot him an amiable smile. “I’ve always been a pretty big fan of food.”

  “A true trait of a survivalist?”

  “I suppose.”

  He chuckled at that and started his own meal. The conversation drifted off, simmering into furtive glances at each other. The interaction was going even better than Jaelle could have imagined. She felt as if the man was softening toward her. Of course, it helped that he had always wanted her to see things his way. The easiest way to trick someone was to wrap the idea up in what they had always desired.

  Now, she was stuck on the tightrope of pushing him in the direction she wanted, but not too far. Too much honey and sweetness could put her in a situation she couldn’t easily get out of, and frankly, she didn’t even want to think about that.

  It wasn’t until she was nearly done and Creed halfway through his that he spoke again.

  “I’m surprised you’re not wheedling at me for my plans or my next step.”

  “Oh, I figured I’d skip that and jump straight to interrogating you about the grand finale of you schemes.”

  “Clever.”

  She dipped her head. “Like I said, I’m trying to make a difference. I don’t think that difference requires me know what you’re up to—yet. I know that trust isn’t easily obtained, because I’ve probably never trusted a single person in my entire life.”

  He smiled again at her, but it was a bit too sappy and alarms went off at the back of her head. “I appreciate that. Honestly, all of my men are telling me I should kill you here and now. You can understand why I’m reluctant to do so, but not entirely convinced that I shouldn’t.”

  “I think I can get that.”

  “Good. This will be easier if we’re on the same page.”

  “What will be easier?”

  “The uneasy alliance you’re suggesting. What else could I have meant?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She finished up her food and burped. “So, what’s the chance of another beer before we wrap this up?”

  He shook his head, laughing softly, but whistled again, nonetheless. A few seconds later, she was handed another bottle. This time, she gripped it and popped the lid off herself.

  “You trying to prove a point?” Creed mused.

  “No,” she answered. “Just seeing how long and thorough the effects of this prison’s wolfsbane are should I need to know that later.”

  “Ah, that survivalist instinct again. Seems exhausting.”

  She shrugged. “Lived my entire life this way. I don’t know anything else.”

  “Well, I hope that I can teach you something else, then. It’s not healthy to be so on-guard all the time.”

  “I would disagree. But then again, both of our methods got us this far, so maybe neither of us is wrong.”

  “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, I guess.”

  “I always hated that saying.”

  “Is that because of the implied violence, or the fact that you can turn into a cat?”

  She actually laughed at that, surprising herself. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

  It was a high note, and he finished his meal. For a moment, Jaelle was afraid that he might propose some sort of other terms, but instead he just downed the rest of his beer, stood, and offered her his arm.

  She took it, and then he was escorting her back to her cell.

  Their footsteps seemed to echo against the walls and doors, ominous in their resonance. While so far her plan had been a success, it could easily be ruined at any moment. She tried not to think about it, but it was impossible not to.

  “So, I don’t suppose it would violate the tenuous trust we might or might not have to tell me how long we have until the countdown to our new world.”

  “Ah, there’s the prying questions I was expecting.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “Can you blame me? But you don’t have to answer, of course.”

  “No, I don’t have to do anything, I suppose.” She felt the wave of satisfaction that went through him. It was silent again, but after a few minutes passed, he spoke again, “Plans are for a week. We’re prepping everything we could possibly need until then. This will be our stronghold.”

  “Not a bad fortress, if I do say so myself. Then again, I’m more of the cut and flee sort of girl and much less about weathering the siege.”

  “Yes, that makes sense, given our collective experiences.”

  The conversation stilled again, but naturally this time. Jaelle supposed she should be grateful that the conversation was flowing so smoothly, but she felt like the night was leading up to something, and she wasn’t sure that something was entirely welcome.

  It took only a handful of minutes for them to arrive back at her door. Jaelle went to step in, but then suddenly an arm was about her waist and lips were pressing against hers.

  Shit. There it was. It was obvious to anyone with eyes and a sense of smell that he wanted her, that he thought he had feelings for her—as much as he could have feelings for anyone.

  She stood still, not moving her lips, not shoving him away, hardly even breathing. If she wanted to survive this, if she didn’t want her plan to crumble to pieces, then she had to play carefully.

  Once Creed noticed her lack of involvement, he stepped back. She could see the flush in his face and smell the arousal rolling off him in waves, but she also saw a look of regret on his features. It was like the clouds had broken and the madman had been tucked away for a bit, revealing a sincere, probably virginal young man who had most likely never had a chance to have a girlfriend or lover of his own kind.

  “I… I should have asked,” he murmured, turning to walk away.

  Wow, he didn’t even try to close her cell door. She had a far greater effect on him than she had ever thought. “Wait, I want to explain.”

  “There is nothing to explain,” he snapped, looking back at her with a mix of both embarrassment and anger. “You said you wanted purpose, and to save our kind. Neither of those goals included some sort of relationship clause, so I shouldn’t have assumed.” He let out an incredibly dry laugh and she was surprised to hear insecurity lacing it. How curious. “I’ve seen the type of men you like, and I’m nothing like that. I don’t know why I ever thought—”

  “Would you just listen?” she hissed, yanking him out of his whirling self-pity. She could let him go right now, it would certainly be the easiest out, but then his walls would be up and that was the last thing she wanted.

  “Look, I mentioned how I don’t know if I’m even capable of having genuine emotion for people. I’ve always used sex as part of my means, another way to manipulate people howeve
r I wanted. Of course, I won’t deny that there’s a certain… attraction between us—” Gag. “—but I don’t know if that’s just me being opportunistic, or if it’s genuine. I would appreciate the time to figure that out.”

  His face softened and she swore she saw a hint of understanding there. “I can see how that might be the case.” He pulled away and gave her the briefest of bows. “Another day then, Jaelle.”

  Chapter Six: Countdown to Destruction

  A week seemed like a good amount of time, but at the same instance, was hardly any at all. The hours began to tick by almost as soon as Creed left her, and she slid her own cell door in place, making sure it locked just like it should.

  Her mind had been whirring while she had undressed and removed the last of her ridiculous outfit then slithered back into her normal attire of battered jeans, a holey tank top and a warm flannel. Of course, it was too soon to say, but so far her plan was going splendidly.

  But splendidly enough to pull off in just a week? That was difficult to surmise.

  She tried to calculate the odds over and over again while she waited in her cell. She vacillated between assurance in her victory, and then in her defeat. The shuttling back and forth was completely exhausting. She slept deeply that night, although her dreams were plagued with shadows and thoughts of Creed.

  She awoke almost expecting him to be leering over her cot, but she was alone.

  And she remained alone for most of the day, with only the guard who brought her food and water to disrupt the quiet. It was infuriating, considering she was on such a strict deadline, but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. Her situation required patience, probably the virtue she possessed the least of.

  Her dreams the second night were far less peaceful, tinged by both worry and doubt. If there were ever a set of emotions that could bring the nightmares in, those were it. They twisted in on each other with synergistic glee, amplifying their effects and making her sleeping hours fill with all sorts of monsters. Both metaphorical and literal.