Hungry For Blood

by Sarah Noffke

  “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.

  “Of course,” Susan said, bowing slightly. “I can meet with you now. Let me just take our new employee to her workstation.”

  “Yes, Abigail Post,” Mika said, facing Adelaide. “Your resume suggests you might be of use to Parantaa’s research team.”

  “I assure you I’ll keep this bloody place afloat if given a chance.” Adelaide extended a hand to him. “And you are with the maintenance crew, I presume.”

  Mika eyed her hand, his dark green eyes narrowing on it. The man wore a pencil mustache and a goatee etched into a triangle. He also wore a diabolical expression on his face, like he knew more than most and could use it to destroy innocent people and animals. She’d seen what he’d had done to several packs of wolves, slaughtering them for their blood. Kill people if you must, but leave animals out of it.

  “Abigail, this is—”

  Mika held up his hand, stopping Susan, who looked utterly mortified. “I think I can introduce myself,” he said to her. “I’m Mika Lenna. I’m the founder and CEO of Parantaa Research. I don’t look at all like a maintenance worker. I don’t appreciate your attempts at insubordination. And I don’t shake hands,” he said, his words attempting to cut.

  It was right then that Adelaide felt the intrusion in her mind. Although only slightly, she still knew that Mika, who must have telepathy, had pulled something from her thoughts. She guessed it was something small, like her defiant behavior, but still she tensed inside. Again Adelaide reminded herself that she was inside Mika’s sanctuary, which could also serve as her prison.

  “And I’m the employee that you hired to isolate specific neuro functions and which chemicals can either stimulate those areas or repress them,” Adelaide said, her chin held high, although her chest was buzzing with nerves.

  “So you’ve already briefed her on her research project?” Mika said to Susan, who looked like she would rather be chowing down on a bag of potato chips in a closet. Mika’s influence sought to saw his employees in two, rather than make them whole so they could perform uninhibited. He and Ren might have actually gotten along.

  “I haven’t,” Susan said, her face dumbstruck as she looked between Adelaide and Mika.

  “She hadn’t. But based on my past projects and what you’re all doing here at Parry, I can make assumptions,” Adelaide said. The truth was, this was another piece of information she’d stolen out of Susan’s brain when they shook hands. Too bad that Mika was so guarded and unwilling to shake Adelaide’s hand. He also had a shield up that protected him from her mind control, she’d realized when she made the offer. Very few could block her mind control. Only incredibly strong Dream Travelers, which she’d always suspected he was from the beginning, but now knew to be true.

  Mika pinned a studious glare at Adelaide. “That’s an interesting assumption you were able to make, albeit correct. Maybe you actually have some intuition that we can use, since most around here are straddling the line between average and incompetent,” he said.

  That wasn’t at all true, but also like Ren, Mika appeared to degrade his employees. This was an effective strategy if employed with the right surrounding motivators.

  Mika’s hand reached for his inside breast pocket seconds before the ringer sounded. Adelaide had watched the werewolves do that several times, noticing things before they happened due to their heightened senses. Did Mika also have enhanced hearing and vision like Zephyr and the rest?

  He turned, putting his back to the women as he slid the phone up to his ear. “What?” Mika said into the device and then paused. “Here? Why did you bring it here? Why not the other facility?” Another pause, this one longer. “Yes, fine. We will store it here for now,” Mika said and then shut off the phone without a proper farewell.

  Other facility, Adelaide thought. He meant Olento Research, which meant it had to be in Los Angeles as well. It was probably close. And soon she was going to find out where it was and take Mika Lenna down from the inside.

  “Get to work, Abigail,” Mika said, not looking at her. “Susan, come with me.”

  Chapter Two

  “If you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf.”

  - Nikita Khrushchev

  “Seriously, hit me with your full strength and I’ll throw a deadly wind that will pin you to the wall,” Zephyr said, bouncing on his toes, fists in front of his face, his black and silver hair not moving due to the gel.

  Rio laughed, his position the same as Zephyr’s. “You wouldn’t survive a straight blow from me, but fortunate for you, you’re a better fighter,” he said, and then he launched his foot in a push kick at his sparring partner. Zephyr weaved to the side, spinning around and thrusting his forearm in Rio’s abdomen, making him double over slightly. While Rio was still in that position Zephyr raised his elbow before bringing it down on Rio’s spine, taking him all the way to the mat.

  “See what I mean?” Rio said, his mouth half pressed into the floor.

  “I think you let me get those hits on you,” Zephyr said, stepping back and extending a hand to Rio, who had already rolled over to a seated position. He wrapped his large fingers around Zephyr’s hand, allowing him to pull him to a standing position.

  “And you know I’d never use my strength on you, boss. Actually, I’d never unleash that unruly power on anyone in the pack,” Rio said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to where Rox and Connor were also sparring in the studio. Kaleb sat against the back wall eyeing a candy bar.

  “You’re supposed to eat it,” Zephyr yelled over to him, having taken in the kid’s dissatisfied expression.

  Kaleb shot Zephyr an annoyed look and pushed his hair off his forehead. “Don’t break my concentration, Silver Streak. I’m trying to pretend that it’s a veal sausage,” he said.

  “Hey, boy, you have respect for your alpha. You may be an agent for the strategic department but you’re still a member of this pack,” Rio said, chest extended and heat in his eyes.

  Zephyr clapped a hand on Rio’s shoulder. “Let’s go another round,” he said, trying to deflect the tension. It had been like this lately. Kaleb had a problem with authority, which was the exact opposite of Rio, who bowed to it, needed it. The eighteen-year-old boy from Salt Lake City wasn’t a bad kid, he just needed to grow up. And Rio, as the oldest member of the pack at thirty, had a tough time relating to the boy who had been more sheltered than all the rest.

  “Yeah, why are you lurking here with us when you could be with the cool kids in the strategic department?” Rox said, ducking as Connor threw a punch at her. He wasn’t a good fighter, but he had a passion, Zephyr observed. That could fuel talent and usually did.

  Kaleb shrugged, finally taking a bite out of the candy bar. “They don’t seem to take to me and since Little Red isn’t around, their disdain is a bit less palatable.” Little Red was Kaleb’s nickname for Adelaide, whom he seemed to get along with better than anyone else.

  Rox landed a punch straight into Connor’s jaw, knocking him back. His hand flew to his injury at once, his eyes wide. “You totally froze up there, Pound Puppy. You’re supposed to deflect attacks. N
ot stand like a fucking statue,” she said, shaking her head at him.

  Connor only nodded, his hand still on his jaw.

  “Let’s take a break,” she said, heading in Kaleb’s direction where the water and towels were located.

  Zephyr kept his eyes on Connor, who didn’t look so much hurt as he did lost. The lone wolf often grew distant or distracted when Adelaide was mentioned in conversation. He kind of understood it, because without their lead agent they were stalled. However, Zephyr had thought this time would give them a chance to train and bond as a pack, two things that would no doubt be crucial for upcoming missions.

  “Have you considered that the other agents despise you because you skipped the training process? The Dream Traveler Codex made it sound like a hard requirement that has to be passed to be an agent for the strategic department,” Rox said, grabbing a towel and wiping down her shoulders, which were covered in long, lean muscles.

  “That process was dictated by the old head strategist, Ren Lewis. Trent said I could skip it because my skill was too useful to wait,” Kaleb said.

  “I don’t know,” Rox sang, in a high-pitched voice. “In the FBI, training is crucial. An untrained agent is one that’s going to get killed or endanger the others. Sounds like Trent is jumping the gun a little, and he doesn’t have nearly as much experience as Ren Lewis, from what I’ve heard.”

  Kaleb pulled back the side of his mouth, scoffing at her. “That Ren guy was probably a pansy that didn’t know a dang thing,” he said.

  “Why don’t you watch your mouth, Runt,” Connor said, his head down and eyes narrowed.

  “I’ll show you Runt,” Kaleb said, throwing his chin up. “Why don’t you go get high, Earring.”

  Maybe the pack didn’t need as much time together as Zephyr thought. Every time they were together lately it was like this, like an invisible tension was severing the pack in two. Something was missing, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “Guys, cool it,” Zephyr said. “And Connor, that reminds me, remove your earring when sparring. Otherwise, Rox is going to pull it out since she fights unfair.”

  Connor nodded, walking for the back wall as he fiddled with the gauge earring he wore in his left ear.

  “Oh, what fun is fighting fair?” Rox said, sidling up next to Zephyr, appraising Rio. “Actually, I’d like to practice that unfair fighting on Rio. He’ll be way more fun to fight than Connor, who can’t hit an unmoving target, or you, Zeppy, who takes it easy on me.”

  “I don’t take it easy on you,” Zephyr said through clenched teeth. Why did she have to insert those little insinuations, dropping hints to the pack that there was something going on between the two of them? It had become more pronounced with Adelaide gone.

  “Roxy is right, we should spar. I can actually practice fighting with my super strength, since this broad can’t be hurt,” Rio said, coming around and placing his forearm on the girl’s shoulder, like she was a shelf meant to keep him upright. He made her look like a doll, although the girl was close to five foot, nine inches tall. Anyone looked small next to the hulky mess that was Rio Hernandez.

  “Yeah, and that way the captain can try and teach Connor something. I have obviously failed him,” Rox said with a laugh.

  Zephyr had to admit that watching Rox and Rio spar would be interesting. They were a great match based on their skill. “Fine, fine,” he said, turning his back on the pair. “Connor, you ready to continue?”

  “Sure thing, just let me grab a drink,” he said, his eyes still low and smoldering. Kaleb’s comment had really gotten to him and why shouldn’t it? A drug addict shouldn’t forever be treated like one, reminded that they’d once succumbed to the drug. Zephyr made a note to himself that he needed to talk to Kaleb about teasing Connor. Werewolves didn’t have to be sensitive, but they needed to respect each other.

  “All right, Rover, show me what you learned in the police force,” Rox said, waving Rio forward.

  He shot his oversized fist at her torso, but she threw a back flip, clearing the space easily. Rio let out a laugh and darted forward, his hand reaching for her shoulder just as she spun to the left and jabbed him in the ear. Ouch, those kinds of assaults were brutal. Rio didn’t look deterred as he launched forward, throwing his shoulders into it. This time the dynamic move connected, maybe because Rox wanted it to. She loved showing off. His fist, full of hundreds of pounds of pressure, sank into her stomach, but the girl’s face remained impassive as he propelled her back two feet and straight up against the wall. She casually glanced at the fist still pinned into her stomach and then up at Rio. “This is going to be fun. Let’s reset,” she said, her skin resistance making it impossible for her to be harmed even by the strongest person, like Rio.

  “This is going to be badass,” Rio said, pulling his fist away as he launched the other one at the stainless steel wall next to Rox’s head. The metal bent in at once a few inches, surrendering to his power.

  It amazed Zephyr how easy it was for Rox to hang with the pack. He didn’t think most girls could stand the testosterone, much less encourage it. However, she was like an honorary member of the pack. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  “I’m ready,” Connor said. He looked different without the large earring. Almost normal. But then there was the tattoo on his neck, the one he finally quit trying to cover up. And also the sleeves of tattoos on his arms always attracted Zephyr’s attention. He wanted to know what they all meant and why Connor had covered himself with them.

  “All right, good. Let’s start out with some effective blocks,” Zephyr said, holding up his hands, knowing that Connor would follow suit. When he did, Zephyr was accosted by the pain in the lone wolf’s eyes. Connor had always looked lost, but now he looked uninterested in being found.

  Chapter Three

  “There is a battle of two wolves inside us all. One is evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, lies, inferiority and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy and truth. The wolf that wins? The one you feed.”

  - Cherokee Proverb

  The white tiled floor was a stark contrast to Mika Lenna’s black alligator skin shoes. His long strides carried him through the hallway, the man beside him keeping pace easily.

  “You worked as the director of security at Parantaa Research, so you will mostly understand how things operate here,” he said. “However, the projects we work on here at Olento Research are different and therefore the security standards are stricter.”

  “Different how?” Haiku said. His background wasn’t as impressive as Grant’s, the old director of security, who was now dead due to the pack and also his genetic makeup. However, Haiku had an extensive background in martial arts, which could prove useful in capturing the werewolves, although Mika had mostly given up hope that a mere human could bring the men in.

  “Whereas at Parantaa Research our focus is on manufacturing pharmaceuticals, at Olento Research we are more interested in paranormal experiments,” Mika said, halting in front of the door for the main lab, where he could hear monkeys screaming, due to his heightened senses.

  “Paranormal? Do you mean like ghosts?” the young man said. He wore his black hair long, pulled back in a bun at the base of his head.

  Mika slightly smiled. “No, not ghosts. Once you walk through this door then everything from this point remains completely confidential. Do I make myself clear?” he said.

  “Absolutely, sir,” Haiku said, raising his pointy chin in the air.

  Mika turned and opened the metal door, the smell of animals and chemicals meeting his nose. Cages lined the wall on one side, a bird aviary on the other wall. A flamingo, pink as cotton candy, lifted its head and eyed Mika and his companion and then took a step forward, its foot meeting soft grass. Instantly the animal turned the color of the green grass as it continued walking toward the back of the aviary. Its color shifted, like that of a chameleon as the scenery around it changed.

  H
aiku’s eyes rested on the animal before turning to the lemur, bandages covering its head.

  “Paranormal, like you test on animals and change them?” Haiku said.

  Mika didn’t answer but instead turned his attention to the man he could smell approaching. Drake, his chief scientist, always had an onion smell about him that Mika picked up on before the man was even in the vicinity.

  Beside Drake, a young Indian girl strode, her frame so much smaller than his. They paused a few feet from the pair, Drake hiding a mischievous look on his face as he appraised Haiku. “You’re the new director of security?” he said, his German accent thick. Mika had managed to almost relieve himself of his Finnish accent, making his indistinct. However, Drake wasn’t as disciplined in this regard.

  “Yes, this is Haiku,” Mika said, eyeing the girl who seemed to hide behind Drake’s wide build. “Who is this?”

  “Shame what happened to Grant, the previous director of security,” Drake said, the spite seeping through in his words.

  “What happened?” Haiku said, his brow creasing.

  “Nothing,” Mika said, his chin down and eyes pointed at Drake with disdain. “Who is this?” he repeated, indicating the girl.

  “This is the subject I’ve elected for Project Nakija. Her name is Isha,” Drake said, presenting the girl, who was fiddling with her long brown braid.