Genetically Altered Complete Box Set

by Sarah Noffke

  “How can we just sit around when there are werewolves out there potentially being hunted?” Zephyr said, standing from the conference table.

  Adelaide swallowed, trying to figure out how to answer that. How could she assign them on the case when there were no leads? How could she put her team in jeopardy just so they’d be doing something? She picked up her book and thumbed to a seemingly random page. It read: “Those who can’t believe in their full greatness will never experience it.”

  Well, that was a bullshit line if ever she saw one. Adelaide thumbed through the book, stopping on the chapter for teleporting. If only she believed in her own greatness she could do something amazing like teleporting.

  “We don’t sit around,” a voice said from the back of the room. Everyone looked up to see Connor, who stepped out of the shadows, the bags under his eyes not as bad as they were the day before.

  Zephyr stood at first seeing Connor, stalking over to him. “You’re up? I didn’t know you were in here.” The alpha wolf looked over Connor, finally bringing his eyes up to meet his with a satisfied smile.

  “I am,” he said, extending and shaking Zephyr’s hand.

  Then Zephyr turned, his arm sliding around Connor’s shoulders. “Rio, meet Connor, the second werewolf. The one who survived even though we left him behind,” he said, his voice neutral, his shoulders held back, like he had a renewed strength.

  Rio was up, his hand in Connor’s at once. Even Kaleb had stood, greeting Connor with a small smile. The four werewolves all exchanged looks of a shared camaraderie, something Adelaide couldn’t relate to. But it felt right amongst the men, like they deserved it, were owed it.

  “So you were saying,” Zephyr said to Connor. “You said we shouldn’t sit around. What do you propose?”

  “I propose we train. We work together as a team so when Wolf X shows up again we have the skills to take him down,” Connor said.

  Zephyr nodded. “Each of us could benefit from combat training,” Zephyr said.

  “Or some weight lifting,” Rio said, pinching Kaleb’s bicep.

  “Ha-ha, yeah, I’ll totally get to that, Dimples,” Kaleb said, pulling his arm away from Rio with an only half-offended look.

  Adelaide looked at Rox and then the pack, hoping this was a good sign. Were they on to better things, as they grew, or would that only lead to more chaos? She didn’t know. And she feared what she didn’t know.

  Kris hung close to the front of the room, her eyes on the book that Adelaide had abandoned. The one that had said that one word. The one that Mika had repeated over and over again. Teleportation. She’d known she’d find information on teleporting at the Lucidite Institute, but hadn’t realized it would be in such an indiscreet place.

  With everyone’s focus on the pack of werewolves, she lifted the book off the table. It momentarily remained solid before turning invisible in her hands, and then she slid it into the bag strapped across her chest. Now she had what she came for and could finally go home.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Grant Walker – Age: Forty. Height: Five foot, ten inches. Weight: One hundred seventy pounds. Hair: Black. Eyes: Brown. Ethnicity: White. Employment: Director of Security for Olento Research. Skill: Super Werewolf.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  Grant’s boot kicked up dust when he stepped out of the vehicle. His head hurt. No, not really hurt. It felt off, like the bones of his skull didn’t fit right anymore. He’d tell Drake when he returned to Olento Research. It had to be a result of mutating. Maybe they could dial back the mutation so it wasn’t so radical. So Grant could sleep at night, not being overwhelmed by the ache in his bones.

  He stepped out of the vehicle all the way to find the rolling pasture empty, save for the evening fog rolling in over the ridge. Nothing but farmland and woods could be seen, but Grant knew someone was nearby. He could smell them and with each inhale he felt more lost to his primal need. Soon he’d have to mutate, allowing the wolf to take over, but he feared again he wouldn’t be able to control it. With each step through the dry field he felt his control being tied down. I’m in charge, he told himself, only half feeling it. But he couldn’t disappoint Mika again. He was here on a mission, one that was important. And Mika believed in him.

  Grant took a deep inhale and a scent so powerful seized his olfactory senses. It possessed him. Told Grant exactly where to go. Told him what he’d been missing and craved with everything he owned. He set off to the right, through a pasture that soon met a thick woods, in the direction of nothing as far as he could see. But it felt right. It felt like he was drawing nearer to that which he needed.

  When he entered the woods, Grant set off at a sprint, as only he could, quickly morphing into werewolf form. Quickly becoming the monster who constantly spoke in his head, saying things it shouldn’t. And then he was outside his clothes. He burst out of them, as his body enlarged. The bones in his face and head crunched and shifted, making room for his new features and his fangs. It didn’t feel right, not that it ever had, but his face seemed like a puzzle that wasn’t put together correctly.

  Grant halted when the woods broke away and a cabin came into view some twenty yards in the distance. Suddenly he didn’t know how to proceed. That had been true for him on most of his cases working for Mika, always full of hesitation. The wolf knew what to do, but what he wanted wasn’t right. It would get them in more trouble. We are here to capture Hugo, he reminded the wolf in his head. Doubt followed his sentence. How does one werewolf capture another? He thought he knew how, but really he didn’t. He needed to force Hugo into submission, but how? That wasn’t really the important question, but rather how to gain control without then feasting on the werewolf. That was the problem for Grant. He was so hungry. All he wanted was warm flesh. It was the best feeling. The worst. The best possible fate he’d been waiting for. The worst fate ever. Grant was where he needed to be, and not.

  He was supposed to bring Hugo in unharmed. Sneak up on him and knock him out. That shouldn’t be hard since he was more powerful than three werewolves combined.

  With a measured glare at the property, Grant stepped out of the brush, racing up to the side of the house, hardly visible to the human eye, he moved so fast. He halted a moment too late, his shoulder ramming into the side of the cabin, jarring it with a loud thud. A moment later, the door to the cabin opened and Hugo raced out, coming around the corner at once and then nearly tripping as he froze at the sight before him.

  With wide eyes, Hugo stepped carefully back, his hands unmoving by his side. He was going to try to run. He’s going to make this more fun, Grant thought. But it wasn’t a game. This was a mission. Assault him, bind him, and take him in.

  The wolf growled viciously in his head before doing it out loud. Then it sprung forward, lunging at Hugo. Fangs sunk down into Hugo’s shoulder, pushing him to the ground. The werewolf subdued the man at once, with minimal injury. One that would easily heal. But the taste of blood and the feel of the flesh lingered as the beast pulled its mouth away, its clawed hands pinning down Hugo, who didn’t scream or fight. He only looked at the animal on top of him with confused, frantic eyes. The werewolf’s tongue licked its mouth covered in blood and bits of flesh and that was all it took. The hunger overwhelmed the wolf and Grant was gone. The animal was fully in charge. Grant was powerless to the wolf’s desires. It dived forward, clamping its teeth through flesh and ligaments, pulling them apart.

  After attacking Hugo and knocking him to the ground, the werewolf then pounced on his midsection, tearing open his stomach. Hugo tried to scream out, but only a cracking sound fell from his mouth. He turned his head to the side, away from where the werewolf, the one so strong and large, was licking at the huge laceration it had made in Hugo’s abdomen. His eyes then fell on his shoulder, which was ripped open, a chunk of meat lying to the side. The pain wasn’t even close to bearable. It was the vilest hell, and every second of being eaten alive was torture unlike any he’d ever kn
own. And quite suddenly, the gigantic werewolf pulled himself off Hugo, his black eyes meeting his briefly, and then it simply turned and dragged itself away, strangely whimpering as it did.

  Hugo lay awake, feeling like he was being roasted by the pain. The cold air breezed over his open wounds, basting him in more torture. Nothing could ever be worse, he thought. And then he heard approaching feet and looked in that direction, seeing his intestines lying on top of his stomach. Things could get worse, he thought. But then through his fuzzy vision he saw the figure, covered in white and black hair. The mustang, the one he had wanted to befriend, approached through the mist, its head down.

  What can be done for you? the horse said in Hugo’s head.

  Hugo tried to shake his head, tears pouring down his cheeks as he attempted this. Nothing, he said, grateful he didn’t have to use his voice.

  You see now why I couldn’t trust you. I knew what you were, the elegant wild horse said.

  I know, Hugo said, his body starting to shake all over, his head turning into what felt like fire.

  The horse took a step forward, lowering its head. I am sorry this happened to you, the horse said in his head.

  I am too, Hugo said, his vision turning black in spots. Will you please do something for me?

  Yes, the horse said simply.

  Knock down the door so the dog can get out, and take down the gate so the chickens are free. I don’t want them to starve, Hugo said, suddenly not feeling any pain. Suddenly not feeling anything.

  In your final moments you think of the animals? the horse said.

  In all moments I think of the animals, Hugo said. And Markie too, he thought.

  You are good. In another time, if you were not part wolf, then we might have been friends, the mustang said, lifting its beautiful head and looking out to the property Hugo had built.

  I would have liked that, Hugo said, closing his eyes.

  Peace to you, Animal Talker, the horse said just as Hugo let out his final breath, slipping away for good.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Wolf X appears to have a higher genetic wolf component than the men in the original pack. It was reported that he wasn’t wearing clothes in werewolf form, probably due to a massive growth in muscles and bone structure.”

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!” Adelaide said, throwing papers from her desk. She was aware that Pops and Lucien could hear her from the other room and she totally didn’t care. Where the fuck was her book! She had it and then it was gone. Completely disappeared. And soon she was going to have to start questioning people, which would only draw attention to her and the book. She might even have to touch people to find out answers, and that was the most frustrating idea of all. But her book! It was gone! Ren’s book. She hadn’t even read half of it and now it was gone. But where? Who would take her book? The people in the Institute weren’t thieves. They were the ones who stopped thieves.

  Adelaide picked up her comforter and hurled it in the hallway with a grunt. A clean white sheet sat crumpled on the bed. No book. She’d had the book in the strategic department. Then she didn’t have it. Maybe Kaleb took it as a prank. If that was the case then he was dead. She didn’t care if he had the most useful skill. She’d murder him with hypnosis.

  “Bankey,” Lucien said, tossing himself into the crumpled blanket. His red hair was a stark contrast to the white comforter as he snuggled into the mess lying on the ground. Sometimes it amazed Adelaide when he played, since he was often serious, like her father. Lucien actually took after Ren in most ways. But still he was a child and children were meant to play.

  “Lucy, where’s my book?” Adelaide said, squatting down and looking at her son, like he had answers to this mystery.

  He rose from the mass of blankets and stared at his mum, a sudden seriousness on his face. Then the boy pointed at the hallway. “There,” he said with a slight lisp.

  Adelaide turned her gaze to the empty entryway that led out to the Institute. “Yeah, I agree. That wanker Kaleb probably has it,” she said, rising and starting for the exit.

  Kris’s heart nearly fell out of her chest when the toddler pointed straight at her, convicting her of taking the book. She was invisible though. It was simply coincidence. The little boy couldn’t have known that she had the book.

  Kris moved to the side when Adelaide breezed by her. She was able to slide out behind Adelaide when she left her residence, before the automated door slid back closed. The invisible girl didn’t know why she’d followed Adelaide to her apartment. Curiosity maybe. Or maybe she was stalling. She had the book and knew it was what Mika wanted. All she needed to do was go to the dry dock and wait for the next submarine to leave the Institute. Then she’d be generously rewarded and hopefully given an even cooler case.

  Kris stared at Adelaide’s back as she stomped through the stainless steel hallways of the Institute. But was there really a cooler place to be assigned than the Lucidite Institute? This place was like being on a ship in space. An underwater space ship. And the people were fascinating to watch. They were nice and talented and more intelligent than any group Kris had ever seen. Even their leader, Trey, was compassionate and ruled with a tender smile. Maybe that’s why she was stalling. She wasn’t done studying this secret society of Dream Travelers.

  “Kaleb!” Adelaide roared outside a door before knocking furiously at it.

  A moment later the stainless steel door slid back to reveal a brown-haired boy standing in the opening with a pursed smile. “I don’t want any Girl Scout cookies, but thanks for asking,” he said. Kaleb was the jokester of the pack, Kris had observed. Connor the damaged one. Rio the guy’s guy. And Zephyr was the stoic leader. Kris had enjoyed watching them interact, all having different personalities that complemented each other. It would be interesting to see the dynamics shift as more werewolves were added to the pack. Then Kris silently admonished herself for the thought. She was supposed to be gone from the Institute, she thought, pressing her hand to the book residing in the bag at her side.

  “Do you have my book?” Adelaide said, her voice still loud.

  “So you aren’t selling cookies? I’m surprised, because—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Adelaide said, cutting him off. “Answer the question. Do you have my book?”

  “I don’t, but—”

  Adelaide turned at once, again interrupting Kaleb. Apparently his answer was enough for her. And the girl with fiery red hair nearly knocked into Kris as she sped by, her eyes narrowed with anger.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Grant Walker has exhibited a higher degree of aggression than other subjects. This is believed to be due to the wolf DNA, which was substantially increased in this experiment.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  It had to be the wolf’s fault. That was the only explanation, Zephyr thought as he thumbed over his dog tags. There was no reason that a guy like him would be drawn to a girl like Rox. It was laughable to even consider taking a girl like her to meet his parents, not that that was even an option for him anymore. He wasn’t going home. No more Sunday dinners. No more holidays, just him and his parents. Their family had been a small one. “Our precious nuclear family,” his mother used to call them. However, there was more love between the three of them than in a mass of siblings and aunts and uncles. The Flournoys preferred things small, quaint. They were minimalists, and more importantly, his mother always said Zephyr needed a girl who took care of him. He didn’t think she’d approve of an FBI agent with a dirty mind and slutty wardrobe.

  The chair beside Zephyr swung out. He’d been lost in thought and didn’t even notice that Rox had entered the conference room. It was like that lately; since he’d been at the Institute he’d let down his guard. That had never happened before. And if he was honest, his guard was usually down when Rox was around, but he wasn’t sure why when it should have been reinforced.

  She hiked up her
leg and placed her foot on the leather seat, sticking her knife down into a sheath hidden inside the knee-high boot. Then she tossed her flipped out blonde hair over her shoulder and gave Zephyr a small smile.

  “You really are starving for attention, aren’t you?” he said, giving her a repulsed look. “Did you grow up the youngest and were forgotten by your family most of the time? Is that why you try so hard?”

  She laughed, smoothing her hand over her knee and up to her thigh where her cutoff shorts started. Leather boots and jean shorts. Yeah, his mother would probably donate all of her cardigans to Rox if they ever met, just out of charity for the girl who was obviously defunct when it came to fashion and modesty.

  “I’m an only child and also the center of my parents’ lives,” Rox said with a laugh. “I don’t need attention. Can’t help it that you are fascinated by me.”

  “Mild interest coupled with an ability to overlook your many flaws isn’t really attraction, but whatever,” Zephyr said, his eyes skirting down briefly to her leg still resting on the seat in front of him. Damn, why did she have to be so sexy? Not romantically sexy, but robustly sexy.

  Rox opened her hiked up leg to the side, revealing a little more of her inner thigh, an impish grin on her pink mouth. “Mild interest, huh? That didn’t feel like mild interest last night.”

  Zephyr’s blood beat in his head. A warmth spread through his groin. This was the wolf’s fault. This wasn’t Zephyr. He didn’t want the girl in front of him. She was a mess. Yes, an FBI agent, but also a train wreck waiting to happen. And Rox had probably been like that ever since she learned her skill was pretty much being invincible. A girl like her didn’t know what it was like to be hurt. To fear death. She would probably die from old age, not ever finding a challenge that could kill her. And Zephyr would probably die from the damn wolf making him do something incredibly impulsive, like jumping over a chasm to get to Rox.