Dire Wolves of London Box Set

by Carina Wilder

  His eyes were still bright blue, but his fur was an elegant mix of black, brown and grey. When Mir moved close and touched him, she found his coat coarser than Phair’s had been. Still soft, though. Still beautiful.

  She pulled back to see that the creature was panting.

  “Does this mean you’re happy?” Mir asked. The Wolf nodded. But when he went to wag his tail, he knocked a candlestick off a distant table, which went crashing to the ground with a loud clatter.

  “Okay, stop that. I’ll take your word for it,” Mir laughed. She pressed her face into the Wolf’s side, her fingers braiding in his fur.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, turning to look at Phair. “Thank you both so much for tonight. You may not fully understand it, but I think you’ve already liberated me.”

  Chapter 13

  On Saturday at four p.m., Mir found herself sitting on a stool in the kitchen with her sister, who was busy preparing a batch of Alfredo sauce for that night’s dinner for some of the club members.

  She hadn’t told Bry about her conversation with the shifters last night. Nothing about Barton’s lists, or about their promise to take the boss down. It would have stressed her out. Better to let her live her quiet basement life than to worry her needlessly over things that may never come to pass.

  “You must get tempted now and then to spit in their food,” Mir said quietly, her gaze moving towards the door to make sure no one was listening.

  “I’m tempted to put lighter fluid in it, truth be told. Not to mention arsenic and venomous snakes.”

  Bry was standing in her usual position, angling herself away so that Mir could only see the right side of her face. The side that hadn’t been ravaged by searing liquid. From this angle she was so pretty, so delicate-looking, so innocent. She’d always had a perfect profile, ever since childhood. When they were younger, Mir had considered her the lovely one in the family, while she’d always claimed ugly duckling status for herself. Bry’s hair was strawberry blond, her skin freckled. She was a proper English beauty.

  But the way she concealed her scars always broke Mir’s heart. It was as though her sister was afraid that she wouldn’t love her anymore if she saw them too often.

  She wished she could convince Bry otherwise—that she could drill it into her beloved sibling’s head that she would always love her, no matter what. But even more than that, she wished she could rewind the clock to that horrible day and kill Bry’s assailant before he’d had a chance to hurt her sister.

  The most crushing thing of all was the thought that Bry would never learn to like what she saw when she looked in the mirror. She’d never think she was worth anything.

  It was so infuriating, so sodding pointless, all of it.

  If she’d been a man she’d have worn her scars with pride.

  Why women placed so much value in their looks had always baffled Mir; at least she liked to pretend it did. Deep down, she knew perfectly well why looks mattered. Girls were trained from birth to think that being good-looking was the most important asset for any female. They were taught to believe that an ugly woman would have a difficult life.

  The saddest part was that it was true.

  Not that Bry’s scars had ever made her look ugly; she could never be anything but the pretty girl Mir had always known. No, she was simply a little different.

  Of course, if the recent war on shifters was any indication, different was enough to make people do horrible things. Different got shifters locked up without rights. Different got them killed.

  The kitchen door swung open and Gunner, one of Barton’s men, walked in. He was large, though not nearly so big as Phair or Cad, and he wore a grey suit and tie, typical fare for Barton’s bodyguard-types.

  “Boss wants you,” he grunted at Mir. “Right now.”

  Fuck. Cad and Phair weren’t due to arrive for hours yet, so this couldn’t be good news. Barton hadn’t put the moves on Mir in days, not since the shifters had first walked into the club. If he wanted a quickie now, before they arrived…God, it was too awful to contemplate. But she’d have to bear it, just as she always did. It was the only way to protect Bry from the boss-man’s wrath.

  The problem was, things felt different now that she belonged to someone. Two someones, in fact. To allow Barton to touch her would betray her own body, but it would also betray something inside herself—the realization that she was developing real feelings for the shifters.

  Something had happened between the three of them. An unspoken, invisible bond had formed that had drawn them together in a way that she didn’t yet fully understand. She’d never seen them naked. Never done anything more than kiss them.

  But it didn’t matter.

  She was theirs, body and mind.

  “Fine,” she said, “I’ll be right there.”

  “I said now.” When Gunner growled the words, an impromptu fantasy flew through Mir’s mind of Phair and Cad tearing him limb from limb.

  She grimaced at her sister, who returned the look before quickly turning back to her meal preparation. “I’ll see you later,” she blurted out.

  Part of Mir wanted to walk fast, to get to Barton in mere seconds and deal with whatever unpleasantness he had planned for her as quickly as possible. But she found herself trudging along slowly, as if hoping that she could come up with a way to persuade him to just leave her alone. Maybe she could say she was having her period. But he’d know it not to be true. The bastard kept a log of her cycle, just as he did for every woman in the club.

  Well, whatever this meeting was about, she could only hope it wouldn’t hurt too much.

  “You wanted to see me?” she asked when she’d pushed open his office door. He was sitting behind his desk, staring at a monitor that reflected blue in his reading glasses.

  “Yes,” he said, smiling. It was his attempt at a warm grin, but all it did was send chills threading down her spine.

  “Come here, my pretty Miranda,” he said, the words all but sung. Someone was in a good mood today.

  When she walked over to him he reached over and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her towards him. She glanced surreptitiously at the monitor on his desk, which displayed a series of names and other information: phone numbers, addresses. A jolt of adrenaline shot through Mir as she realized that it looked like the information the shifters were looking for.

  “Do you know what this is, love?” he asked.

  Trembling, she shook her head. “I don’t know. It looks like a list.” She didn’t want to look, though. Didn’t want to see her loved ones’ names in a database of potential victims.

  “It is a list,” Barton said, smiling.

  “A list of what?”

  “Of the men out there who are under my command. The ones who will go out into this great land of ours and take down the shifter population, once and for all. The men who will protect people like you and me from their kind.”

  So, he really did keep a detailed record of the bastards he hired.

  Mir swallowed. She’d have to choose her next words carefully. If she betrayed to Barton how she felt about the shifters who’d been coming to see her in the evenings, things would not end well.

  “Isn’t that illegal?” she asked casually. “I mean, can you really just send people out to kill shifters?”

  “Not entirely illegal, actually,” Barton said. “Let’s just say that for the right price, one can get the higher-ups to look the other way. Human law enforcement isn’t so fond of shifters. Their kind is rather a nuisance, to put it mildly. Like large rats, tearing apart our house from the inside.”

  “But…” Mir was about to speak, but stopped herself before she could say what she was really thinking.

  But Barton seemed to read her thoughts. “Oh, don’t worry about your little friends,” he said. “For the right price, I can be bought, too—at least for a time. I’ll keep milking them for cash until it’s depleted, then we’ll see about their fates.”

  With that he reached over and m
inimized the window on his computer. “Speaking of your friends, they’ve made a special request for tonight.” He turned to face her, still holding her by the waist. Still smiling like the pig that he was.

  “What is it?” she asked, hoping he couldn’t feel her shaking under his touch.

  “They want to take you out for a little night on the town.”

  Out? Out of this place? If so, it would be the first time in months that she’d seen the world beyond the walls of the club. It would be heaven to escape, if only for a few hours.

  She did her best to hide her excitement when she spoke. “Take me out? Where?” Better to look horrified—disgusted, even—at the idea than thrilled to escape this awful place.

  Barton shrugged. “Who knows? Some dance club, I think. They’ll be by at seven, and I want you back by eleven. See to it that you make your curfew. You know what happens if you don’t.”

  She nodded, hatred filling her soul as she looked into his lifeless eyes. “Yes. I know.”

  “Good.” He turned her sideways and slapped her arse far too hard, sending a jolt of pain up her back. “Go find something sexy to wear. I want you looking good for the wealthy mutants. I plan to impoverish them as quickly as possible, then hurl them out into the street.”

  Mir was glad she was turned away from him when he uttered those awful words. Don’t you dare call them mutants, she wanted to snarl. As if you’re the one who’s “normal.” As if you’re the one who’s human. They’re better people than you could ever dream of being.

  She left the room silently and pulled the door shut behind her, torn to shreds inside.

  Of course she was excited to see her men.

  But she was also terrified of what might happen to their kind if Barton wasn’t stopped.

  She knew now that she had no choice. She had to do everything she could to help them access the information on Barton’s computer. She needed to save them, as much as she needed to save herself and Bry.

  Chapter 14

  At seven o’clock, Gunner escorted Mir outside to the black Peugeot that sat in wait. She was dressed more modestly than usual, in a black dress, tall boots and a wool coat. The dress’s hem reached almost to her knees, its high neckline concealing her cleavage.

  The moment she stepped out into the cool evening, she took a deep breath, delighted to be inhaling something other than recirculated air for once. God, she’d missed London’s streets and activities as simple as wandering about, staring into shop windows. She’d missed the freedom to do everyday, banal things.

  When Cad saw her, he leapt out of the driver’s seat, darted around to the other side of the car and, with a gallant gesture of his arm, opened the passenger side door for her. Phair, who leaned against the roof of the car, stood watching, his eyes narrowed. No doubt he was waiting for Barton’s suspicious-looking employee to go away.

  “My name’s Gunner,” the man said. “I work for Mr. Barton.”

  “That’s nice,” Phair grunted back.

  “Boss wants her back by eleven,” Gunner growled as he handed Mir over like she was an inanimate sack of potatoes.

  “Eleven. Got it,” Phair replied before squeezing his way into the back seat.

  “You going to be all right back there, mate?” asked Cad when he’d climbed into the front, chuckling when he looked at Phair’s reflection in the mirror. Poor guy had to bend in half just to fit inside the vehicle.

  “I’m fine,” he growled.

  Mir turned to look at him, issuing a warm smile. Despite the big man’s contortionist bending, he looked ridiculously good, dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. For once he wasn’t constricted by a tuxedo—not that he looked half-bad in formal wear, either.

  Cad wore a leather jacket, grey jeans and brown shoes that looked like they must have been very expensive. He and Phair were the polar opposite in so many ways, but there was no denying that they were both residents of the realm far beyond handsome.

  “You two look…nice. And I must say, you’re full of surprises,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to leave the club. Where exactly are we going tonight?”

  “A special place,” said Cad. “One that we thought you might enjoy.”

  “Disneyland?” she asked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.

  “Ha ha. Not quite. Though there are giant dogs at our destination.”

  “And the odd giant bear,” said Phair.

  “Okay, my curiosity is officially piqued,” said Mir. “You’re not going to give me any more clues, then?”

  “Nope,” said Cad.

  As they drove away from Club Bacchus, Mir pressed her head back and shut her eyes for a rare moment of contentment. She couldn’t quite be happy yet—that would come someday later, perhaps, when things were perfect. But she was most definitely content, which was a huge step up from miserable.

  If the men were taking her somewhere that she could be around more shifters like them, this was shaping up to be a very good night indeed. Of all the things she could have wished for in the world, time spent with more creatures like Phair and Cad was her idea of heaven.

  There was only one thing that kept her from feeling full-on joy, though: Bry was still back at the club. Still alone, still in that dank bloody basement. Still vulnerable to Barton and his band of arseholes.

  Someday, Mir told herself, she’d find a way to set her sister free. Bry, too, would feel the cool air on her skin, the invigoration of riding in a car, of knowing no one held dominion over her.

  Someday…

  Cad drove for a few minutes before pulling the car into an underground lot that looked as though it might lead up to a series of condominiums.

  “Wait—you don’t live here, do you?” Mir asked, a new sort of nervous excitement infiltrating her belly. Maybe they weren’t going to a public place, after all. Maybe the men wanted some privacy with her outside of the Blue Room, and they were taking her to one of their homes. Maybe the three of them would make love on a giant shifter’s bed…

  “No, this isn’t my place,” Cad said, letting out a quiet chuckle, “and I’m afraid we’re not going up. It’s actually what’s underneath the parking garage that we want you to see.”

  “Ah. So, you’re taking me on a date in the sewers of London?” she asked. “Fantastic. I’ve always dreamed of frolicking in human waste with a couple of super-hot lads.”

  From the back seat, Phair let out a laugh. “Our destination is just a little more elegant than underground rivers of nastiness, I hope.”

  When Cad had popped the car into a spot in a dark corner, he got out and opened her door while Phair somehow extracted his massive frame from the back seat. The two men escorted Mir towards a set of elevators at the far end of the parking garage. But when they got close, instead of pressing any buttons, Cad and Phair both veered to the left, silently guiding her towards…nothing.

  “You’re going to walk right into the wall!” Mir exclaimed more loudly than she intended.

  “Well, yeah, that’s the plan,” said Phair, reaching for her hand and chuckling. She stared at him, aghast. Okay, this was a little weirder than anything she’d expected, even from a couple of shifters. What the hell were they doing? “Trust me,” Phair said. “Remember, I’d never hurt you, Mir.”

  She took his hand and closed her eyes, letting out a quiet yelp as he pulled her forward. She could feel Cad’s hand on her back, urging her gently towards the seemingly impenetrable concrete.

  “It’s okay,” the Dire Wolf shifter’s voice whispered. Just then, a strange, unexpected gust of cool air hit Mir’s face, as though they’d stepped outside again. She popped her eyes open, curious to know what on earth had just happened.

  But she wasn’t entirely sure that she was even on earth anymore.

  The three of them were standing inside some kind of ancient tunnel, its rounded walls glowing with the warmth of flames from hundreds of torches lining the walls. It looked like some kind of fairyland from a book, something out
of a tale that involved a princess being freed from hundreds of years of entrapment.

  She was confined between walls, yet somehow she felt more free than she had in months.

  “What is this place?” she asked, mesmerized.

  “A place we only bring the most worthy,” Cad replied, his tone serious. “Only the humans who are invited into our fold get to see the true Underground. Come, let us show you.”

  They walked down the corridor to its end, where an exquisite, rounded wooden door awaited them. Again, it looked more like something out of a book than reality. A series of lush green vines braided themselves along its surface, as though it was struck daily by the sun’s rays.

  Something was at work here. Some magic that Mir had never quite believed existed.

  “Would you do the honours?” Phair asked, gesturing to her to open the door as she stared, her mouth slightly agape.

  She pushed it open only to be greeted by the sight of an enormous room, bustling with large bodies, that stretched far into the distance. Most of its inhabitants were men, though she could see the odd woman intermingled among them, laughing and flirting. But these women weren’t like the ones she knew at the club.

  They were actually enjoying their lives.

  She stepped forward slowly, trying desperately to convince herself that this place was real. That the experience was real, that she wasn’t dreaming. This night was happening, and she was part of it.

  Music throbbed in hard beats through the stone walls and floor, bodies ebbing and flowing in lithe, sensual movements along with the melody. Some of the denizens of the club sat at tables, drinks in hand, making easy conversation with each other.

  On instinct Mir inhaled through her nose. The scent she picked up on the air was familiar—it was that of shifters.

  “This…” she began, “it’s…I don’t understand how this even exists…”

  “It’s called the U.C.,” Cad said, pressing towards her ear. “Otherwise known as the Underground Club. It’s a sort of quasi-safe haven, used by London’s shifters. For a while our kind was afraid to come—afraid that Barton’s men would find a way in. But lately a lot of us have found refuge here. I—we—thought you might like to meet some others of our kind.”