by Sarah Noffke
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Epilogue
One-Twenty-Six Press.
Lone Wolf
Sarah Noffke
Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Noffke
All rights reserved
Copyeditor: Christine LePorte
Cover Design: Andrei Bat
All rights reserved. This was self-published by Sarah Noffke under One-Twenty-Six Press. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you are seeking permission send inquiry at http: www.sarahnoffke.com
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Summary: Rabid and hungry for vengeance, one wolf won't stop until he's put to death.
Published in the United States by One-Twenty-Six Press
ASIN: B071HY9999
Praise for Previous Works:
“There are so many layers, so many twists and turns, betrayals and reveals. Loves and losses. And they are orchestrated beautifully, coming when you least expected and yet in just the right place. Leaving you a little breathless and a lot anxious. There were quite a few moments throughout where I found myself thinking that was not what I was expecting at all. And loving that.”
-Mike, Amazon
“The writing in this story was some of the best I've read in a long time because the story was so well-crafted, all the little pieces fitting together perfectly.”
-The Tale Temptress
“There are no words. Like literally. NO WORDS.
This book killed me and then revived me and then killed me some more. But in the end I was born anew, better.”
-Catalina, Goodreads
“Love this series! Perfect ending to an incredible series! The author has done this series right.”
-Kelly at Nerd Girl
“What has really made these books stand out is how much emotion they evoke from me as a reader, and I love how it comes from a combination of both characters and plot together. Everything is so intricately woven that I have to commend Sarah Noffke on her skills as a writer.”
-Anna at Enchanted by YA
For Anne, my sister,
for always being in my corner.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Epilogue
Get your free book here
Click here to get started:
http://www.sarahnoffke.com/free-book/
Prologue
A cool mist made the air thick. It wasn’t raining, but it was threatening to. Hunter would have to be quick or otherwise someone would spot him. He wouldn’t be able to take his time with this victim, like he’d done before. The woman he’d murdered last week at the assisted living facility had died too fast, making the whole event less than enjoyable. She was so weak and died from the first few assaults. Women were weak, Hunter thought. All of them. That’s why the rabid wolf was taking them out, one by one.
For a week, Hunter had been stalking the woman he was going to visit tonight. She always ran in her neighborhood at the same hour. It was a pretentious area in west Los Angeles because this woman was a pretentious bitch who only cared about money. Fiona had married some guy with a shiny car. Hunter knew from the beginning that all she cared about was prestige and annual income. Women were only interested in money. All of them.
She still ran because the slut was obsessed with her body. Never was she satisfied with her firm ass or her flat stomach. Hunter had watched her drink strange concoctions that were supposed to detox or brighten her complexion. Fucking LA women. They were all the same, obsessed with their bodies, looks, and money. Before the whore got married, on their first date, Hunter told Fiona that he wasn’t paying for her salmon, that she had to pay her half of dinner. She smiled, her teeth bright and probably artificially white, and agreed. That date ended early because she got a call from her mother who apparently was ill and needed flu medicine. Women were always getting sick because they were weak, he thought. They got sick and then refused to take care of their responsibility… their children. And women, as the weaker gender, expected other people to take care of them when they were sick. Women were pathetic. All of them.
Hunter had dismissed Fiona at once, not really caring to stare at her a moment longer. After that they continued to see each other at the gym, where she flirted with other guys and ran for miles on the treadmill. However, they never spoke again because she was a dirt
y whore who refused to make eye contact with him when they passed at the gym. They’d just had the one date and she rejected him… just like the other women. They didn’t know a good man when they saw one. That’s why Fiona bent over regularly in front of the dumb jocks weight lifting, pretending she’d dropped her towel. But that bitch wasn’t going to be smiling after he was done with her.
Fiona stopped by a park bench and pulled up her ankle behind her to stretch her leg. In her tight pants her butt was perfectly round. Hunter pressed his claws into the bark of the tree right in front of him, trying to quiet the wolf. It wanted to spring forward and ravage the girl who was now kneeling over, stretching deeper. However, the man in the werewolf wanted another moment to watch her. Hunter could control the wolf because since the beginning he’d given it what it wanted. Flesh.
Hunter pictured that the other werewolves he’d been with at the lab probably struggled with the wolf because they tried to tame it. But Hunter had embraced the wolf from the beginning, indulging its every desire. And on nights like this, when he changed and the wolf came out, he was prepared with a victim to offer to the werewolf.
He narrowed his eyes at the girl who in the dark mist couldn’t see with such detail, but Hunter’s vision was incredible, especially at night. A low growl vibrated his lips where his fangs rested. The werewolf stepped out from beside the tree, crouching down low on the moist grass. It then dragged its claws against the bark of the tree, making a sound that a normal human could hear from several yards away.
Fiona spun her head around toward the sound, falling back at once from the sight of the brown werewolf perched a lethal distance away. Hunter sprung forward, running on hands and feet, crossing the distance in a fraction of the normal time. A scream ripped from the girl’s mouth just as Hunter launched himself at her chest, knocking her to the ground. Instantly she was whimpering, her hands trying to cover her face. But she was no match for Hunter. She was a woman. She was powerless, like all women.
Hunter bared his fangs and slid down so his face was close to her chest where he could hear her heart rapidly beating. With his claws he ripped through her running top, taking flesh away as he did. A muffled scream tried to spill out of her mouth, but he’d anticipated this and slapped a hand over it. They always screamed. All the women he’d murdered had cried the entire time.
Pinning her hands up above her head, he leaned down over Fiona, looking her straight in the eyes. “You didn’t want me and now you’re going to pay. I bet your mother wasn’t even sick, you lying bitch,” he said, his hot breath colliding with her face. A tear peeked from Fiona’s eye just before he released her hands and ran his claws across her pretty little face. And then the werewolf was released to do that which it was born to do. Destroy.
Chapter One
“A gentleman is simply a patient wolf.”
- Lana Turner
The latch to the bathroom stall caught several times before sliding back, allowing Adelaide to exit the cramped space. She hadn’t really needed to relieve herself, but rather was waiting for the lobby restroom to empty of Parantaa Research employees. Why women had to pee in packs was confounding to Adelaide. And the ones who continued chatting between the stall walls, like everyone peeing wanted to hear their lame-ass stories, were the most infuriating women.
Adelaide had headed straight to the door marked “Women” as soon as she’d been granted clearance into the research facility. She’d inadvertently shown up ten minutes early for her first day of work, which wasn’t going to set the right tone. Most dimwits probably thought that a spy infiltrating an organization should blend in and go unnoticed. These are the same buffoons who work for a corporation that creates drugs that tie consumers to pharmaceutical companies forever, making them slaves to the drugs they provide. Drugs are rarely ever solutions. They are bandages. The Lucidites knew how to heal, how to actually make people better without putting them in debt for the rest of their lives.
Adelaide had learned from her father, Ren Lewis, that no one ever suspects someone as a spy who disregards rules. It was annoyingly one reason that Adelaide knew that the FBI bitch, Rox, was actually not a spy. She’d flaunted her disrespect for Adelaide like a trophy, which meant she wasn’t trying to hide a hidden agenda. The kiss-ass was always the most suspicious person. And even subconsciously employers knew this. But if an employee exhibits a great deal of insubordination then that becomes the concern, not the fact that they are spying.
From a foot away from the porcelain sink, Adelaide took in her image in the mirror. Her father, if he was in heaven, might be looking down at her right then and not completely repulsed by her appearance. The girl, who was raised in the poorest neighborhoods in London, had to admit that she looked sharp in her light blue blazer and pencil skirt.
Ren wasn’t looking down at Adelaide from heaven or burning in hell though. It was more likely that he was blissfully toiling away his days in the dreamscape as neither alive nor dead. His book, the one in the briefcase by Adelaide’s black heels, had said his death mission was to become someone “in-between.” However, Adelaide had lost her place in the book and hadn’t been able to find that section again, which probably detailed how Ren had done it. The book was as confounding as the man himself.
“Well, wherever you are, Ren, lend me your strength,” Adelaide said to the image of herself. She looked older somehow, like grown-up clothes actually aged her. That was just an illusion though. Everything in reality was a sort of illusion, and lucky for her she was learning how to manipulate what people saw.
Adelaide turned for the exit just as the sound of rushing water hit her ears. She paused and turned to the sink, its handle pulled in and water falling from the faucet. Leaning forward, she turned it off, her eyes to the side, like she suspected someone was standing beside her. With a slow grace she revolved in that direction, scanning the empty bathroom. It was nothing. Just a wonky sink. Shaking her head, she headed for the exit.
“Did you have trouble finding the building?” the woman with short curly hair asked from behind her desk.
“Nope,” Adelaide said, standing. She’d refused the offer to sit when she was introduced to her new boss, a Dr. Something-Or-Another. Who really cared what her name was?
“Oh. Well,” the woman said, eyeing the clock on the wall, “you’re fifteen minutes late.”
“So I am,” Adelaide said, leaning casually against the doorframe. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered with the suit; that would have been a great show of disrespect and the heels were starting to pinch her pinky toes.
The woman let out a low breath and then picked up the file on her desk. “It’s good that you have such an impressive resume. I earned my doctorate young, but you put me to shame. You managed to earn a medical degree and a doctorate in neuropsychology.”
Adelaide yawned loudly. “I don’t sleep,” she said simply. The Lucidites could do anything, including crafting fake records which made Adelaide look like the prized pig Parantaa desperately needed on their research team.
“Right, well, how about I offer you a tour?” the woman said, standing. She also wore an uncomfortable suit, but hers didn’t fit so well, probably due to the extra weight she’d no doubt acquired since her promotion to Director of the Neuroscience Division. Adelaide knew that the promotion was recent and that the woman had regretted it. And she’d gained all that information when she shook her hand. She also learned that Mika Lenna was on campus that day and the woman was absolutely dreading her meeting with him.
“I’d really like for you to take me straight to my workstation so I can get set up. I’m not interested in a tour,” Adelaide said. This was another pro tip. A lousy spy would have jumped at the tour, thinking they’d learn something covert. However, not knowing the layout of the large building would give Adelaide the excuse for getting lost repeatedly.
The pudgy woman scowled a bit before covering the expression with a suitable one. “Right. Of course. This way,” she said, holding out a hand to the empty
hallway.
Adelaide followed the woman out to a corridor that was both too bright and too white. Everything in Parantaa was white. The floors. The walls. The people. It was a stark contrast to the Institute, which was full of color.
“Your work is going to center around finding—”
“Susan,” a voice at their backs said.
Both women turned to find a man in a silver suit standing squarely in the corridor. “I was just coming to see you,” he said, striding forward, a slight accent in his words.
“Mika, I apologize. I thought our meeting wasn’t until later,” the woman apparently named Susan said.
“The meeting is when I say it is and I’m available now,” he said. Mika was Finnish, Adelaide remembered from researching him. He’d moved to the United States at age eighteen and started Parantaa Research the same year.
So this was the sinister man who had abducted men and mutated them into werewolves and Dream Travelers. Adelaide had a moment where she considered using her mind control to make Mika surrender and cart him off to the Institute. However, that was the messy approach and had too many ways to backfire. Her father had once infiltrated a government so that he could create lasting change from within, weeding out all of the problems. That was the smart approach. The long-standing one. Furthermore, it was a fool’s approach to underestimate this man. She was on his territory and knew nothing about him and his Dream Traveler skill.