by Gaja J. Kos
Besides, it wasn’t like she’d laid out the exact terms of my involvement. I had some leeway.
And I was adamant to use it.
“Fine,” I said, keeping my face perfectly neutral. “I’ll do what’s necessary to enter the Games.”
As soon as Isa inclined her head, accepting my surrender, I shot out from my chair, slightly exaggerating how upset I was to match the level of pissiness she was undoubtedly expecting. I snatched my helmet off the adjacent table, then strode to the small lot hugging the side of the cafe.
Once I climbed on my bike, I trailed my fingers across the visor to calm my elevated heartbeat, then finally pulled the helmet on. I sighed.
I’d probably need it for more than just protection on the road if this plan of mine actually worked.
But first, I had a registration form to fill out.
I could worry about a certain agent’s wrath later.
A loud pounding ricocheted through my apartment. It assaulted the air with its angry ripples, reaching all the way to the bedroom where I was buried under the soft, comforting covers, trying to clutch on to the flimsy wisps of sleep.
But the sound didn’t stop.
I cracked open an eye. It was still dark out, indicating that peculiar time some people considered morning but was actually still night. Wonderful.
The one day I’d hoped to sleep in…
I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head, constructing a makeshift fortress. Unfortunately, it did little to muffle the pounding.
Why were people so fucking persistent?
When it became clear my visitor would rather brave bloodied knuckles than go away, I untangled myself from the bed. It took a little effort, true, but eventually my bare feet landed on the floor and I quickly pulled an oversized T-shirt with its collar and sleeves cut off over my head. It hit me just below the butt, but I wasn’t averse to mortifying my visitor by flashing some panties or side-boob if my inappropriate appearance would get them to leave me the fuck alone.
And it wasn’t just my grumpiness at the intrusion that made me want to send the asshole packing.
Since the registration went through last night with success, I had a long day of working my ass off on the clay ahead of me. I really didn’t have time to put up with pre-dawn bullshit.
I padded silently through the living room, sampling the air that sneaked in through the cracks. Well, this was just getting better and better, if not entirely unexpected.
Although I had hoped I would have at least another day before she came huffing.
“Hello,” I purred as I opened a door and found a pair of narrowed green eyes glaring at me.
Without waiting for a reply, I spun around and strode back inside, a very furious Isa stomping in behind me. Her heels rapped against my hardwood floor, the sound just as angry as the scent of her that slowly spread through the apartment.
“I told you to enter the Games, not drag your boyfriend along with you,” she hissed.
I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter, taking her in. Oh, she wasn’t thrilled at all that I asked Alec to team up with me. But I had told her I’d do what was necessary.
If she failed to read between the lines, it certainly wasn’t my fault.
I poured the coffee pot full of water and pressed down on the button, kicking the machine to life.
“Look, Alec was the one who came up with the list.” I raised my hand to shut down the nasty reply Isa was about to send my way. “I’ve vetted him and he can be trusted. Honestly, it’s pretty clear that you like to bully people into doing your bidding, Senior Agent Vogt, but believe it or not, I actually want to find the assholes behind Nill as much as you do.”
She continued to glare at me, but at least there was no hint of her fangs peeking from her lips. Making progress.
Good for us.
I pulled a clean mug from the pile of washed dishes, then parked my butt on the unoccupied part of the counter. Isa’s gaze slipped down to my exposed legs, lingering on my thighs for just a moment too long before she seemed to catch herself.
Faster than I could.
Cursing myself for looking at her like some doe caught in the headlights, I ran a hand through the unruly mess that was my morning hair and sighed.
“Entering the doubles competition will raise less suspicion,” I explained. “While I have no desire to compete any longer, it’s no secret that Alec wanted to do a few more tournaments with me. When word gets out, everyone will simply think I finally gave in to his incessant nagging. I’ll still have access to all the players, and we’ll share facilities just as if I’d gone in solo.
“Besides, I haven’t competed since last year. I don’t know how much you know about sports, although you hinted as much yesterday, but even a few months can make a shitload lot of difference in the pro world. Don’t take me wrong, I’m not rusty. Far from it. But I’m not exactly in the shape of my life, either.”
Isa raised an eyebrow, her gaze skimming down my form almost imperceptibly. Heat stirred in my veins, some bizarre, homicidal desire I knew I had to snuff out sooner rather than later. It was only the hint of anger still weaving through the air that stopped me from doing something I would regret.
Regardless of how much my body might have wanted it.
I poured the freshly brewed coffee for myself, inhaling the aroma, and cradled the mug in my hands. Might as well take it a step further. Make it clear where we stood.
“You want me to find the dealer, right?”
“Right.” Isa’s reply was clipped, her voice tight enough to snap a neck.
I jumped off the counter, set the mug on the smooth surface, then prowled up to her.
“Playing doubles with Alec will keep us in the running longer than I could hope to stay in the tournament individually. Not with this year’s competition, anyway.”
My treacherous body warmed at her proximity, but my mind wasn’t having any of it. I met Isa’s gaze, our faces only inches from one another.
“Now if you’ll be kind enough to leave, I have an entire day of practice ahead of me.”
Isa arched an eyebrow, but there was surprise etched in those fine lines of her face. Then, faster than I could blink, it slipped into something colder.
“Remember your sister, Lotte. I’ll let this insubordinance slide. Once. But if you disobey me again…” She smiled, and this time, the fangs greeted me with all their sharp, pearly-white glory. “I don’t think I have to repeat myself, do I?”
I stared at her, refusing to be the one who stepped back. “Get the fuck out, Agent Vogt.”
In spite of the unexpected wake-up call, the day actually turned out to be quite nice. All of my administrative tasks have been transferred to some other unfortunate soul, which meant I was free to do what I did best.
Play.
I called in my old coach for the morning portion of my training, and Alec called in his. We practiced on adjacent courts for two hours, working on our individual skills, before we switched to doubles-specific tactics.
It had been a while since we trained together like this, and my mind worked in overdrive as we did Shadow Doubles. We kept the ball crosscourt, honing our cooperativeness and point-ending skills.
The Short-to-Deep exercises came next, which allowed me a bit of a breather while Alec worked the net, but I paid my dues the instant we switched. Luckily, I’d never had too many difficulties predicting whether I could hit the ball down or not, and ended up with a negligible amount of miscalculations.
We finished off with a few poaching drills. These were usually the hardest since there was a fair chance of crossing into your partner’s court which could result in a missed volley. But once the mind accepted the risk, all that was left was enjoyment.
Of course it helped that neither Alec nor I were the kind of people to snarl at the other in case the attempt to poach went ass-up.
Once we were thoroughly drilled and had a brief break, we shifted to the really fun part. Playing for points against our coaches.<
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Without the restraints of mapped out exercises, it was just too good to control the court by Alec’s side. We quickly fell into our known, ruthless routine of destroying our opponents, and by the time we all but obliterated them, both coaches were seriously winded.
I grinned at the result, feeling that old predator within me rise to the surface once more.
Not the wolf. The athlete.
I greeted it like a friend and embraced its bloodthirsty nature with all my heart.
With this mindset, I knew Alec and I wouldn’t only put up a good show at the Games, but actually had a fair shot of winning them.
After a quick lunch the four of us shared, I stretched out on a yoga mat in my office and caught a few minutes of much needed sleep. A low burn resided in my muscles when I woke up, but it was the good kind of pain—the grateful kind that let you know you did something worthwhile for yourself.
It was just as well that I wasn’t nearly done yet.
I went through my stretch routine, taking my time to work all the kinks out and prepare my body for the afternoon. Although I had a massage scheduled in the evening, it wouldn’t do to get all crampy before.
Werewolf bodies could take a lot, but we weren’t indestructible.
I’d just begun to work on alleviating the pressure on my lower back when a familiar scent wrapped around me, followed by a handsome, tanned face, looking appreciatively up and down my body.
I snorted mentally even as my hormones buzzed.
“Hi there, partner.” Alec grinned, one shoulder propped against the doorframe, and finally met my gaze. “Ready to kick some ass?”
I was more than ready. And we more than did.
Rosalie was gracious enough to call up Kiefer, one of her own teammates.
At thirty, he was the oldest one in the group—as well as the only one I wasn’t all that well acquainted with, save for the few matches we’d played against one another over the years. His career had taken off long before mine, and in the pre-War world, that meant he was stuck playing male-only tournaments while I’d been lumped into the female ones.
Differentiating athletes by gender was definitely one of the things I didn’t miss about covertly playing “human” competitions.
I was glad to get to know Kiefer better on the court, as well as off it since he seemed to fit right into our company.
Needless to say, Rosalie was thrilled to hear about my inclusion in the Games, even if we wouldn’t go up against one another directly with her playing singles and me doubles. And I seriously appreciated that she took time from her schedule for a friendly match.
I glanced at her across the court and tapped the ball twice.
Match point. If we played this right.
I cast the ball up into the air, then sprang, adding a little spin to the hit instead of simply going for my usual speed. In doubles, a consistent serve was far more important than aces—not to mention a good fucking call to make in the given situation.
The rotation of the ball took Rosalie by surprise, and although she recovered amazingly fast, that split second when her feet faltered was enough to hinder her shot. Without her usual power backing up her swing, Alec had no difficulties poaching the ball and delivering a mean short-to-short volley that skimmed the outer line of the alley, well out of Kiefer’s reach.
Match point won.
Up on the bleachers, the crowd we’d gathered during the game went up in a roar. Laughing lightly, I ran towards the net and clasped hands with a grinning Rosalie. I shook with Kiefer next, then found myself trapped in a sweaty embrace from Alec.
“Fuck, that felt good.” He laughed, excitement dancing plainly in his blue eyes. “I’m never letting you retire again.”
I scowled at him, but a smile still pulled on my lips. We turned towards the bleachers and did a little bow to our rooting coworkers and protégés. But just as the standing ovation became louder again, I saw Rihard’s face go slack.
He wavered on his feet, his hands suspended mid clap.
Elsa turned towards him, as did Tristan, but they were too late. Rihard tumbled headfirst across the bottom line of seats.
And didn’t move.
10
I always hated hospitals. Not from some unpleasant personal experience or anything like that. Not even because of the intrusive stench of sickness and death that permeated the air and seemed to be etched into the walls for an eternity to come.
What made my hackles rise was the sense of feeling helpless. Powerless.
With every breath I took, the despair, the eerie, sickening awareness that this struggle just might be the one you wouldn’t walk away from seemed to poison my lungs. And I desperately, desperately hoped it wasn’t Rihard’s time yet to meet such a fate.
My head braced on my hands, I waited in the stuffy waiting room under what felt like endless strips of LED lights, trying to focus on the path Alec’s fingers were drawing down my back. Voices and announcements ricocheted off the disgusting pale green walls, the restlessness of all the other people waiting to hear news of their loved ones thick enough to make my head spin.
I suppressed the impulse to curl into a ball and settled for an inaudible groaning whimper instead.
Nobody had said anything beyond ordering us to wait here after two nurses and a doctor ushered Rihard’s too still body through the double swing doors. I had all but collapsed onto the plastic chair when they disappeared out of sight, precisely where I was even now, and the only time Alec had left my side was for the few minutes he needed to phone the poor kid’s parents with the news.
Not that I was spared the conversation.
My werewolf ears picked it out from the rest of the chatter as if it were a beacon. Alec’s strained voice. The muffled cry that came over the receiver…
Nausea rose and I swallowed it down for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Fuck. Not Rihard.
“Lotte.”
I glanced up at the unusual soft voice and found a pair of brilliant green eyes staring at me.
Isa.
“Koch sent me a message.” She glanced at Alec with what I was surprised to note was an approving expression. “He told me about your player. I’m sorry.”
She sat down on the empty seat next to me, her polished appearance sorely out of place given the ragged state everyone else in the waiting room appeared to be in. And yet the usual demand wafting off her body was lesser, gentler.
Not that it stopped her from asking, “Have they released any information yet?”
Alec’s fingers tensed on my back, but I shook my head. If my fears were correct and Rihard’s body had shut down because of Nill, I couldn’t wallow in sorrow. Somehow, the pain of piecing myself back together after that dreadful ride to the hospital made me gain a new appreciation of Isa’s cold demeanor. It wasn’t a life I would have wished for myself or anyone, really, but I understood now that it was the only way to get a job done. To stop any of this from happening to another kid.
I straightened up, but didn’t move away from Alec’s warmth. That was a kind of strength I just didn’t have.
“We’re still waiting,” I explained. “Rihard missed practice yesterday because he wasn’t feeling well. I thought it was just a case of stress getting to him, but…”
“You believe it’s the drug,” Isa finished quietly, a hint of fang peeking from her full lips. “They’re getting bolder. Two cases in such a narrow timeframe.” Her chest rose as she breathed deeply. “We need to get these fuckers.”
Stunned by the rawness of her words—or perhaps the lethal determination in them—I reached over in what I could only explain as a moment of madness and gripped her hand. “We will. Whatever it takes, whatever you need me to do… You can count on me.”
We didn’t speak after that. Only waited as the daunting minutes rolled by, every muscle in my body tightening whenever a doctor emerged through the white swinging doors.
They never came for us.
Until one did.
I was standing in another pale corridor, Alec by my side and Isa arguing with the doctor. Her voice never rose, but the threats were sharp enough to slice through the air with perfect clarity. I’d been on the receiving end, so I knew just the kind of effect they could have on a person.
For once, I appreciated her skill.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking your position will keep you from landing in a cell,” she hissed, pitching forward just a little, but it was enough to make the graying man back against the wall. “Withholding information from ICRA is a criminal offense no degree or influential connections can bury.”
The doctor glared at her with open hostility, but after a long, uncomfortable moment, he opened the folder in his hands. I strained my werewolf ears, Alec doing the same judging by the sudden stillness that overcame his body.
Neither of us wanted to miss a single word.
“As I said before, Rihard Ackmann experienced cardiac arrest. He will recover fully in due time, of that I’m certain. However, the results as to what could have caused his heart to falter are inconclusive.” He showed Isa a page within the folder, and I noticed his fingers dug into the paper with sufficient force to create small rips. “By all accounts, he’s as healthy as is expected of any werewolf, and in excellent physical shape.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Isa said, but her words were icy.
She walked back over to where Alec and I were standing, then gazed through the small glass panel on the door, fury rolling off her in waves. I shuddered.
The sight was burned into the back of my eyelids, but still I looked.
Machines blinked as they monitored Rihard’s vitals, tubes and IVs spreading from him in every direction, but the kid—he seemed almost peaceful. His skin lost some of the ashen look and resembled his usual warm brown, no more traces of sweat beading on his forehead.
The doctor said he would recover. And I hoped to the gods that what I was seeing were signs it was true.
Blinking back the tears from my already puffy eyes, I turned to Isa. “So what now?”
“We can’t question him until he wakes up.” She sighed, although I knew it had little to do with her words and everything with the reason why she even had to utter them in the first place. “I’ll wait for his parents to arrive, learn if they know anything that might help the investigation.