Make Him Mine

by Lia Bevans

  “Is it related to my brother and the missing werewolves?”

  “The lab results are out,” Hazel said. “As I suspected, it was a substance I’d smelled before. Something a technician was experimenting with while working in the clan laboratory. Something he was called out on and told to stop.”

  “Lucien.” Chantal’s heart thumped. “He was a lab technician when I met him.”

  “Back then, Lucien was obsessed with purifying our blood, creating a superior breed of werewolves,” Hazel explained to Blaez. “He didn’t want to be better than humans. He thought we already were. He wanted to be superior to every kind of shifter.”

  Quietly, Chantal confessed. “Lucien found out that my parents were working closely with the pack. They wanted me to learn more about who I was, what I could do. Some werewolves accepted them with open arms, even encouraged their curiosity. Others didn’t.”

  “Lunatics like Lucien.” Terry glowered.

  “His methods were extreme. I won’t deny it, but can you really say that we shouldn’t be concerned about humans learning more about werewolves? They’d hunt us down and cage us like lab rats. And might I remind you that the pack mercifully let you live even though you’re aware of us.”

  “Wow. I guess I should be grateful you allowed me to live. Should I come kiss your feet now?”

  “Guys!” Chantal sighed. “That’s enough.”

  Blaez’s eyes locked on Hazel. “Are you saying Lucien gave Caldon’s crew his blood-purifying concoction?”

  “Not exactly.” Hazel mashed her lips together. “Lucien was experimenting with nikile and using an herb called dritoquilin to manipulate its strength. The stronger the nikile, the more advanced our abilities. Our technicians found dritoquilin in the drinks.”

  “Meaning... what?” Terry frowned. “Lucien went into brewery after you released him?”

  “Dritoquilin has side-effects. Namely, it causes mood swings and intense periods of aggression. Unstable wolves and young shifters are very susceptible to it.”

  “You think Lucien wanted them to fight.” Chantal tapped her chin. “But why?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Why would Lucien target three specific shifters and then drug an entire group of them? It doesn’t make sense?”

  “I have a suspicion that those first three were his test subjects.” Hazel licked her lips. “What if Caldon’s crew was the true target?”

  “My gosh...” Chantal covered her mouth.

  “What is he going to do with my brother?” Blaez asked, his voice thick with fear.

  Hazel shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, but whatever it is... we need to find him. Fast.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  BLAEZ SLAMMED HIS FIST against the table. Sweat beaded down his face. He wanted to reach over and grab Timmy by his collar. Wanted to shake him until the boy coughed up the answers he was looking for. He forced himself to be calm.

  “Look,” Timmy’s eyes darted back and forth, “I want to help you. I really do. The only person who can tell you about the booze is Skillet and he disappeared with the rest of them. All I know is, I was with my girl when the guys were drinking. She doesn’t like to smell booze on my breath when I kiss her so I—”

  “I don’t care about your girlfriend’s preferences, Timmy.” He shoved the lab results in front of the kid’s nose. “No one was acting strange when you got home?”

  “They were laughing and drinking same as always. Mixing rum and soda. Cal was drinking more soda than rum though.” Timmy’s eyes flicked to his. “He doesn’t like to get drunk. Says his brother will kill him if he finds out.”

  His heart pricked again. “No one was showing signs of aggression yet?”

  “They were drunk, yeah, but everyone was getting along. I went to bed and a few hours later, the sound of them fighting woke me up. I don’t know what started it, but it got real bad. I wish I could give you more, but that’s all I know.”

  “What about this man?” Blaez slid a picture of Lucien across the table. The werewolf didn’t look as evil as he should. The man in the photo was well-groomed and in his forties—pale skin, grey eyes, wide nose, glasses. His picture didn’t scream ‘psychotic killer’.

  “What about him?”

  “Have you seen him before?”

  “Nah, man.” Timothy shook his head. “Never.”

  Blaez gritted his teeth. They kept knocking wall after wall. Caldon was out there somewhere and he was out of leads. If he couldn’t shake something from Timothy, he was back to square one. Hazel was doing her best but they didn’t have time to wade through the pack’s red tape.

  “Fine. Maybe not this man.” Blaez grasped at straws. “Maybe someone new started hanging around? Someone older? He wasn’t a werewolf. Maybe he was just a regular human being? Anyone like that?”

  Timothy closed his eyes and then they popped open. “Trevor.”

  “Trevor?” Blaez sat at the edge of his seat. “Who was he?”

  “Nothing like that guy.” Timmy smirked and flicked the edge of the photo. “Trevor’s buff. I’m talking muscles the size of tires. And he doesn’t wear glasses. He’s clean-shaven too. His eyes are blue not grey.”

  “That could just be the light when he took the picture,” Blaez said, growing excited. “Or he could be wearing contacts. He may have worked out a lot more.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you have any way to contact Trevor?”

  “He only started coming around a couple of weeks ago. He was always near the ring. He liked to watch us fight. Especially Cal. Your brother was his favorite. He kicked all our butts. Like he got professional training or something.”

  “He did taekwondo since he was five. I’m sure that’s why he gravitated to your crew. Since you all love fighting so much.” Blaez’s mouth fell open. “Wait...”

  “What?”

  “Timmy, write down everything you remember about Trevor and how we can get in touch with him. Do it now. I’ll be right back.”

  He sprinted for the door and nearly smashed Chantal and Terry’s faces in when he pushed it open. They scrambled back and stared at him with wide eyes. “What?” Terry asked. “It sounded like you had a breakthrough. Do you think that Trevor guy is Lucien?”

  He nodded. “It’s just a gut feeling. I never understood why Caldon started hanging out with those particular friends, but now that I’m looking back at it, he met them at a taekwondo match. The Skillet-guy, he was the leader. He loved fighting. Puffed up Caldon’s ego to the point he thought he could do anything.”

  “That’s why he ran with them,” Chantal said. “But what does it have to do with Lucien?”

  “Hazel said he was trying to build a serum that would make werewolves superior to all shifters. Something that would enhance our natural strength and abilities. So he’d be looking for someone with a load of inherent skills, especially in the area of fighting.”

  “A super soldier,” Terry breathed. “You think he wanted to experiment on Caldon?”

  “I’m not so sure,” he stammered. “But it would explain why he targeted that particular group. They were a crew of fighters. They loved it. Practiced it. Moved into an old gym for it. They were the perfect candidates.”

  “You think Timmy can lead us to him?”

  “We don’t really have a choice. It’s our only option.” He licked his lips. “I’m going to see what he came up with.”

  Chantal nodded. He took one last lingering look at her before returning to Timmy. He pulled his chair out and sat. “What do you have for me?”

  “Not much.” Timmy shrugged. “It’s not like Trevor gave us his phone number or address. I doubt Trevor’s even his real name. Most of us changed our names when we joined.”

  “Think harder, Timmy. You’ve already been such a huge help already. Just dig a little deeper.”

  “Alright, alright.” The kid roared in frustration and rubbed his temples. “Just give me a minute.”

  Blaez didn’t
even have that, but he knew he needed to cool it before they lost the only person who had given them a solid connection to Lucien.

  Timmy snapped his fingers. “Trevor liked to smoke.”

  “Any special brand?”

  “I didn’t catch the brand, but I do remember it smelled like blood. Most of the guys hated it. Made us gag, but Trevor loved it. Some of the more adventurous guys wanted to taste it, but Trevor never let us. He said it was expensive and rare.”

  Blaez fisted his hands. He was on the right track. He could feel it.

  Just wait a little longer, Caldon. Your brother’s coming.

  CHANTAL STORMED INTO the office, her mind whirring a mile a minute. She sat on the edge of her desk and set a fisted hand under her chin. Staring at Blaez, she arched both eyebrows. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Smoke that smells like blood.” He nodded, his hazel eyes darkening. “How did Lucien get his hands on it?”

  “Excuse me!” Terry raised her hand. “Non-werewolf here. What are we talking about?”

  “Hell Blooms,” they said together.

  “That’s not the scientific name, of course,” she explained. “But it’s what the herb is known as.”

  “It’s a flower similar to wolfs bane, but instead of repelling the werewolf, it’s deeply addictive. Like nicotine.”

  “Why would Lucien find the taste of Hell Blooms appealing?” She tilted her head. “Unless he’s still a werewolf.”

  “Impossible,” Hazel said. They all swerved and spotted her sauntering into the room. She sent Terry a dark glance and threw a package on the table. “That’s the details of Lucien’s removal ceremony. He’s been stripped of his wolf.”

  “Unless remnants remained,” Blaez mumbled.

  “You think he was still connected to his wolf?” She shook her head. “Impossible.”

  “Is it?” Blaez paced. “Think about it. Our wolves emerge when we go through puberty. They fuse with us, with our blood. We become one. Can you really separate something that’s been intertwined for decades?”

  “Then maybe he’s not trying to make a super-soldier,” Terry whispered.

  “Maybe he’s trying to regain his nikile,” Hazel finished.

  “What if he already has?”

  “What?” Terry scrunched her nose. “How do you know that?”

  “A few weeks ago, I saw Lucien. Or a vision of Lucien. I’m not sure. He was standing over my bed.”

  “What?” Terry, Hazel, and Blaez roared.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Terry stomped her foot.

  “I know right!” Hazel agreed.

  “To be fair, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not. A few days later, I saw a pair of glowing eyes when I was out for a run. When I looked around, it was gone. Not even a scent remained. I thought it was weird and I was imagining things. But what if Lucien regained a fraction of his abilities? Or he can shift for a short period of time?”

  “That’s it. You’re never going running again.” Blaez pushed forward. “If you ever feel like shifting you call me, okay?”

  Her wolf melted at the fierceness in his tone, but she steeled herself against it. “I can handle myself. If Lucien’s experimenting with nikile we need to find him now. Hazel, where would he get his hands on Hell Blooms?”

  “It can’t be anywhere reputable,” she said. “We know every herbalist in town.”

  “The pack should line them up and question them,” Terry said.

  “Don’t be hasty. If Lucien finds out that we’re looking for him, he’ll disappear in the wind and he may take the kids with him. If they’re even alive.”

  “They’re alive,” Blaez said, his voice filled with conviction. “They have to be.”

  “We’ll find him,” Chantal said, her eyes clear and strong. That was her. Not her wolf.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Terry insisted. “It’s not like the alpha of the wolf pack can waltz into a black market herb dealer and ask for help. They’d shut down when they spotted you coming from a mile away.”

  “She can’t.” Chantal nodded at Blaez. “But we can.”

  He caught her eye and jerked his chin down. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” Hazel stepped into her path and Terry bumped against her. The two women shot darts with their eyes, but they stood in unison to protect her.

  “I’ll be fine.” She placed an arm around each of their shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to hug them. She was the shortest of the bunch and they both naturally stooped down to hug her back. “Blaez will take good care of me.”

  He dipped his head. “You can trust me.”

  “Call me if anything seems suspicious,” Hazel said. “I’ll send backup.”

  “And I’ll bring my shotgun.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  Blaez placed his hand on the small of her back and exchanged a look with Hazel. Chantal didn’t need to see to know her sister was warning him to watch out for her. She didn’t need to see Blaez’s face to know he was replying ‘with my life’.

  She was mad at him for Saturday, but Chantal did not question his loyalty. If he treated her with half the concern he did his brother, no harm would come to her tonight.

  They trotted to his vehicle and Chantal dived in. Blaez glanced at her, his eyes thrown into shadows thanks to the dusky sky. “This feels like the longest day of my life.”

  “Ditto.” She closed her eyes, trying not to think of the moments when she’d come into contact with her parent’s murderer.

  “With all that’s going on,” he inhaled a deep breath, “are we good?”

  “Us?”

  “You and me.” Blaez licked his lips and guided the car down the highway. The light of a passing lamppost hit his strong jaw and sharp hazel eyes. His scent surrounded her, drawing her back to the taste of his lips.

  “Should we be talking about that right now? When your brother is in danger?”

  It was a warning to her wolf as well as Blaez.

  Should you be ogling him right now? With Lucien on the loose?

  “You are the only thing keeping me from going crazy,” Blaez said. She sat up straight, shocked by his words. “Yeah, I said it. I was never angry with you, Chantal. I was angry with myself. Because I knew your feelings were fake, but mine were real, more intense than I wanted...”

  “Blaez—”

  “It’s alright. I know where you stand. I don’t expect you to like me.” He shrugged. “I just need to know that you forgive me for the way I handled things. It was wrong and out of line.”

  She bit on her bottom lip and gave a small nod. “We’re good.”

  “Great.” He offered a grim smile and pressed harder on the accelerator. “Now, let’s go find Lucien.” The car roared down the street.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BLAEZ OPENED THE Garden Loom’s weathered door. It made way with an eerie creak. He stepped in first, scoping out the dark room before allowing Chantal in beside him. The scent of herbs hung heavy in the air. Potted plants littered the entire room and sprigs dangled from the ceiling.

  “Can I help you?” A stooped man, looking as old and beaten-down as his shop, waddled out of a back room. He had a thatch of wispy grey hair atop his head and filmy brown eyes hidden behind thick oval glasses. Liver-spotted hands clutched a slender cane.

  “We’re looking for Hell Blooms,” Chantal said, sashaying to the counter. “Think you could help us?”

  “I’m sorry, miss. You’re at the wrong place. I’m not licensed to sell Hell Blooms.”

  “We’ll keep our transaction under wraps.” To his surprise, Chantal whipped her purse off her shoulder and opened it. Whatever the old man saw inside made his eyes glitter.

  “Wait just one moment,” he said. A pep in his step, he turned around and shuffled to the back room.

  Blaez drew near and whispered, “What’s that?” He peeked over Chantal and spotted a wad of cash bundles in her purse. His eyes doubled in size and he nearly wheez
ed. “Where did you get those?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” She gave him a secret smirk and his heart fluttered. Not in a manly way either. It thrummed like a butterfly. Like a caress. Blaez nearly swore from the unfairness of it. He was falling harder and harder for this woman and the feeling was not mutual.

  “Here you go.” The shopkeeper returned and slipped a tiny plastic sack toward them. His eyes glittered as he reached for the bag of cash, but Chantal held it out of reach.

  “How do we know this is legit?” she asked, her eyes hard as marbles. The innocent tinge of her face drowned beneath the penetrating glare. Blaez couldn’t help the surge of pride that swelled within him.

  That’s my girl.

  The shopkeeper cowered. “I swear on my mother’s grave I only sell the best stuff.”

  “That’s not enough for us,” Blaez said, leaning forward. He was taking cues from Chantal and dipping deep into his concern for Caldon. Playing a dark role came easy when his brother’s life was at stake. “We’re betting a lot of money on you. Understand that we need more... reassurance.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “How many customers purchase Hell Blooms here?”

  “Since it’s not common knowledge, I don’t get a lot, but there’s one man who keeps coming back. It’s been a couple months. He’s always satisfied with the order.”

  Blaez glanced at Chantal and she looked back at him. He nodded. “Does he have a name?”

  Wariness entered the shopkeeper’s eyes. “I don’t make it a habit of giving out my customer’s information. It’s a privacy thing. I’m sure you understand.” He peered harder at them. “Why are you asking?”

  Blaez shrugged at Chantal. Understanding passed through their gazes. They’d already received confirmation that Lucien might have patronized this shop. All they needed now was another clue. The one that would point them to Lucien’s hideout.

  “We’re looking for...” Chantal turned toward the shopkeeper whose expression had shifted from suspicious to menacing.

  Time slowed. He saw the shopkeeper wielding his cane and launching it over his shoulder with a mighty roar. It whittled through the air. Surprise lit in Chantal’s expression. She didn’t have enough time to get away.