Who the hell is this guy, and did he swallow a thesaurus in his formative years? He sure takes the long way to say anything and it totally throws you off. I honestly can’t tell if this is a tactic to disarm you and pull information, or if he really is a conversation starved oddball and tends to offload. Maybe he’s just weird, he has the whole odd outfit thing down to a T for being a weird one.
I’m also shocked to be told my fur is now fully white, although I did have hints and suspicion it was turning that way, but he just solidified the fact for me. It’s not like I’ve had a mirror, or an ability to take my head off and use it to look at my full body when turned. No idea why my turning white is happening, and I wonder if mother experienced the same thing. A flaw, just like everyone said it was, maybe some kind of disease that spreads.
“I thought he might have food.” I add, eyes darting around the room past him as I continue to come back to the land of reality and start looking for something useful to help me get out of these straps. Trying up muster up the will power to turn again, but nothing happens. Something is seriously screwing with my abilities and this individual doesn’t seem like an imminent threat. Unless talking you to death is possible. My nerves are quickly dissipating in his presence.
“Oh, so you’re hungry. Oh lord, how thoughtless of us. Well we can do something about that can’t we. No need for us to be rude and inhospitable. It makes perfect sense you would be drawn to a manmade building in search of supplies in the center of this green utopia if you were out here lost. I just would like to know your name for a start, and possibly where you originated from, and maybe, if you have any more friends lurking out there. A pack, a mate. Someone who might not be very discreet about the whereabouts of our sensitive location. I know it’s a bothersome formality, but they won’t let me feed or untie you without it.”
I ignore him completely, too occupied with the why of the fact I can’t seem to muster any kind of ability, and even my strength is no more than a regular human. It’s beginning to frustrate me, as I can now move my toes and feet, and rotate and wriggle them to test the strength of the straps. My strength and speed I have even in human form, is absent.
“What have you done to me? Why can’t I turn?” I snap it at him aggressively, temper rising as it really sinks in, but it isn’t helpful in terms of ability at all. I hit him with a pointed look under lowered browns and his happy little face drops to an almost impressed ‘oooh’ look.
“Ahhhh, well caught. You’re an observant one, aren’t you? This facility is a life-sized isolation tank, so your kind can’t use any unwanted force, or abilities, on my staff when we require your presence, or when we have guests such as yourself. It’s quite remarkable how they make a building completely capable of dissolving any kind of supernatural ability, isn’t it? I don’t have the engineering science, but I can assure you it’s quite ingenious.” He talks way too much. He also gets way too excited over the smallest things, and I eyeroll and shake my head at him, trying to draw him back to the intel that I need.
“Once again…Where am I?” I’m losing my cool quickly, annoyed at being held down and I start wriggling manically, more to attempt to escape this crazy one, not giving a crap he’s standing right there. The noise of the door beeping and clicking behind him though, snaps my attention back to it, and the dark uniformed figure that comes stalking in as he pushes a trolley with what seems to be a food tray to one side.
“Pipe down, Princess. You know where you are because you hauled ass up to our door and tried to take a peek. The question he asked …. Are there more of you out there?” It’s a commanding deep, almost growl like tone, from a serious looking man with a foreboding glare. My inner intimidation returns, as he makes my brave pipe down, and I return to still, cool mannered, and stare directly at him.
He’s a scary one and most definitely wolf. Not that my sense of smell is working either. Tall, broad, physically hunky, and good looking in that boring, typical, dominant wolf way, and unnervingly very Santo. Which in itself is weird. He’s Latino, dark, tanned, handsome, and I swear he almost has Colton’s darkest chocolate eyes, although his have hints of green that lighten them overall and it somehow kills the whole smoldering thing. He has an arrogant look to him, and a slight downturn to his mouth where Colton’s turns up, that gives him an aggressive superiority air. Colton, even when being an arrogant ass, always has a smiley quality to his face. Pretty boy… cute… dimples…. God, I miss him.
“Guess you’ll find out soon enough.” I remark bitchily, not willing to give them any information until I know what’s going to happen to me. So far it does seem that tests, and experiments, and pulling my insides out is unlikely. I’m probably more in danger of ben ‘fan girled’ by the dude in the white coat who has a serious leg hump for my whiteness.
If they know I’m alone and have no one tracking me, or with me, they might think nothing of disposing of me. He did say this was a top-secret facility and I’m guessing making promises not to tell doesn’t really hold a lot of weight with these types. I shouldn’t tell them anything, and pray they believe I’m a no one and let me go on my merry way.
“Not the sensible response, Sweetheart. Name… Pack name. Don’t get smart. The quicker we know who you are, the faster you might get out of here.” He eyes me viciously, no friendly at all in that face. I snort at that, half laughing, sardonically, and roll my eyes, noting how much emphasis he put on the word might.
“Sure, I will. I mean, it’s totally normal to be an asshole, drug people, and tie them up, right?”
Now is probably not a good time to realize I developed bad attitude and sass while living in the wilderness, but something about him really riles me up. I’m guessing it’s the Latino look, and that hint of accent, reminding me of so many smug dickheads I grew up around, and his tone is getting on my last nerve. Sick of being pushed around by these alpha type wolves and their damn superiority complexes.
“Deacon, here, is our head of security and you must excuse his abrupt manner, he’s just very concerned that the delicate nature of our work might be compromised if some random, yet very pretty, rebel wolves should happen to disrupt our facility. We have sensitive materials that require the utmost protection. I beg you to understand our predicament and disregard my friend’s hostility in such an unfortunate matter.” He’s flapping, looking flustered and trying to give an air of friendly.
“Doc… too much intel for a bratty girl who’s giving nothing in return. How about go polish a stethoscope over in the corner and leave this to me.” He snaps and the poor little doctor reddens in the cheeks at the verbal tell off. His eyes dropping to the floor in submission and it’s no surprise to see which one rules this roost.
Deacon is not that much older than me physically, and yet he acts like he could totally be of Juan’s arrogant, nasty bloodline, with a massive chip on his shoulder. He probably got stationed here against his own will and takes it out on everyone around him. He looks like the type to love pistol whipping people and probably gets off on the power trip.
“Maybe, if I wasn’t chained to a bed, I would be more inclined to talk.” I point out, sarcastically, raising one brow to drive the point home and showing none of the fear that’s still simmering in my belly. I guess being out there alone for weeks on end gave me a sense of fierce and confidence I never knew I could ever get back, and this time it’s Deacon who eyerolls.
“She does have a point though, it’s not very polite of us, especially when she cannot do any physical damage within these walls.” The doc seems to be the soft touch and the dark glare Deacon spins and throws at him, makes him pipe down immediately. He almost turns crimson from the neck up and shuffles back, slightly away from the big brute at his side.
“She gets loose when we get some answers!” He digs his heels in, turning back to me with an unamused frown that signals him throwing his dominance around and I sigh heavily, knowing I’ve no choice but to give them something if I want the use of my limbs at least. It’s not gr
eat being interrogated by two men standing over me, while I’m set out like a sacrifice to the gods. Mentally it makes me feel at a very huge disadvantage and being free would make this less intimidating.
“Fine!!! Carmen!!… My pack comes from the east, and I’m taking a little trekking holiday break from them after a fight with my mom, and stupidly stumbled across your little building. I was curious that’s all.” I lie convincingly and stare straight at Mr. Security. long and hard to drive the point home. My stomach is starting to tremble, my nerves getting the better of me, and I can’t tell if the waves of cold are the aftereffects of the drug, or my anxiety peeking. I’ve no idea why I chose her name. I guess on some level, if I do get free, then I want her name to be the one they cast to the shoot on sight if seen again list. I mean, I do blame her for a huge portion of how I got here.
“Carmen? Hmmm. Nope.” He replies and crosses his arms across a muscular chest, trying to appear in the know, but it only serves to irritate me further.
“Umm, why nope? Carmen is my god damn name, I’m sorry it doesn’t meet your expectations. Freak.” I huff, wriggle aggressively, and exhale heavily when I make no headway in loosening anything.
“You’re not a very good liar…. You have about fifty tells, and the only part of that which was true was that you stumbled across us. The rest was bullshit. Look, we just need to know who else is with you, and who you linked and told about this place before we took you down?”
“What does it matter, for fuck sake? No one, okay. I’m alone, and this bullshit is getting old. Untie me if you’re all so fucking nice and friendly, as it might make a god damn difference to this conversation! If you want me to talk then get me off this god damn, uncomfy, infernal fucking bed, you have me strung out on like I’m awaiting dissection!!” I lose my cool, my temper snaps with sheer frustration at him, riling in a way only Colton ever could make me, and I blame the fact that he resembles him somewhat, and has that same pig-headed, stubborn ass, manner that used to make me crazy hate the Santos. That know it all, bull crap, mind game, shit, and ordering me around.
“How alone?” He completely ignores my femme tantrum. Deacon steps closer, pressing his hands to either side of my head on the bed and it dips as he leans into me, bringing his face close enough he locks on me, eye to eye, and blocks out most of the light over my head, casting his face in shadow. It has the effect I guess he was going for, in that I lose all fight, recoiling back inside myself, completely affected, and a little fearful, and lift my chin in a bid to not show it. Backing down subtly, but not without a little fight.
“Like all the way alone…. My pack isn’t with me, but I can’t be sure they aren’t far behind.” It’s not really a lie, as I don’t actually know if any of my pack have ever caught onto any kind of trail and followed me. I doubt it, as they would have caught up by now, but I’m not going to say I know for sure they haven’t. I just don’t know, and it seems to be a believable statement as he leans up and pushes himself away from me after a minor scrutinizing of my face at close quarters.
“No one with you? No mind linking?” He repeats sternly and as stupid as I am for admitting it, I shake my head. Deacon seems satisfied I’m not lying and turns back to his submissive oddball.
“You can untie her, Doc, she can eat, but she stays confined in here until we decide what should be done with her. I still want a name and pack. I need to know what kind of threat she is, or they pose. I’ll be back soon. I need to contact Alpha. Santo. and get direction concerning our intruder. He’ll want to be informed.”
My heart literally stops beating in my chest, and I have to stop myself from gasping out loud at the words that come out of his mouth. My insides self-combust, and my blood freezes in my veins, as my mind comes to a complete standstill on those two little terrifying words.
Alpha Santo! Juan! There is no other Santo pack in these parts, and his resemblance isn’t coincidental. Why Colton kept coming to mind is now glaringly obvious. This is Juan’s facility, which can only mean one thing. Deacon is a Santo, it explains the assholes bad attitude and shitty behavior, and possibly, Sierra is not an invading dream because of Colton’s telling me about her before I left him. She’s been calling me somehow, from these four walls, and led me right to her. There’s no other explanation for how this all ties up like this. The fates wouldn’t just let this casually happen.
I don’t understand how, or even why, or that she managed to do it from inside an isolation tank, but there’s no other logic for this kind of crazy coincidence. This is a Santo building, a facility, so many miles, and days away from the mountain, but close enough for Juan to have his reach. Doubt he has many facilities in our lands, and I didn’t just come upon this by chance. I start wondering how much of this was orchestrated by the fates, and I don’t mean from the second I turned East. I mean all of it, and how I was led here from the day of my turning.
I’m so screwed though. Once Juan knows I’m here, it’s going to be game over. He might actually send me to the same fate as Sierra, wherever she is, and leave me to rot in here along with her for the next ten years. It’ll be the answer to the dilemma of my pairing with his son. Keep me locked up, and keep Colton safe, it’s not like anyone’ll miss me if I too disappear for a decade.
The doctor moves over me as soon as Deacon leaves us alone, his face apologetic, with a softness to his grey eyes that I didn’t notice before. He has a kindness, in the wrinkles and lines around his eyes and mouth, that suggest he genuinely smiles a lot in his life. With a worried glance at my face, and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, he whispers in a shaky voice, revealing his own fears.
“Please, don’t react when I remove these, I don’t want to have to sedate you again, and I don’t know if I’ve a strength to match you, even in human form. I swear, I mean you no harm. Let’s keep this civil. You play nice, we play nice. It doesn’t have to be hostile.” He doesn’t trust me, and even though in here, I have no gifts, he’s wary of me. He’s human for sure, and he knows what we are capable of, which means he’s probably witnessed it to be this kind of afraid. I find it weird they even have a mortal here, but I guess the wolf world has a shortage of crazy doctors to keep Juan’s mate hidden with. Packs are family, and it’s rare to find sub packs who keep secrets from the rest, especially among one as big as the Santos. I guess humans are easier to keep quiet.
I nod and relax my body in a bid to show him I’ll behave, and he seems to pick up on it, his smile strengthening, and his face relaxes. I can almost taste the tension seeping out as he leans in to undo the first buckle.
He makes fast and light work of releasing me from the bed and jumps back cautiously when he unties the last ankle strap, eyeing me from a distance as I slowly sit up and regain my bearings. It takes a minute, and my head swims as I level up, aware I have only this gown on to cover my modesty, and it falls forward off my shoulders as I move, telling me it’s not even tied at the back. They must have thrown it on before restraining me, and I reach back to pull it together again.
“Just let me go. I’m not interested in this place or your work. I have my own plans and route. I’ll happily get back to that.” I point out, trying to sound sincere, but the old man’s eyes narrow and he frowns at me, shaking his head apologetically.
“Oh, my dear, I’m afraid I’m not the one who makes those kinds of decisions, or I would show to the door with a wave and a sandwich. The problem is, we can’t let you go without being sure all of that is true. No one’s come up here in ten years without invitation, and yet here you are, not just a regular silly trekker or lost hiker…. but a wolf. A solitary femme, which is quite unusual in itself given pack hierarchy and the female role in your world, but a rare white form at that. Remarkable. I’m afraid it’s all a little too suspicious given the circumstances.” His voice is hushed, as I guess he doesn’t want Deacon, or whoever watches the camera, to hear and the real serious concern etched in his eyes shines out. He has a trusting quality about him that’s tingling m
y sixth sense and telling me he’s not one of the bad guys.
“What circumstances would that be?” I match his expression, a little churning of suspicion of my own as I take in his manner and the way he seems to be deflating a little, his posture sagging as he turns towards the wall. He stops at the food trolley and pushes it towards me with a fake smile.
“We’ve been testing such unusual DNA for years, and a rare specimen falls right in my lap. It’s almost like the fates ordained it, or maybe a little spy came to gather intel for a rival pack? My work up until now has been a secret, and protected, but you found us…. An elusive rare white.” He rises his brows, suspiciously, and I fiercely glare at him as his tiny accusation filters through and offends me on a serious level.
“I’m no spy, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m white, because much like my mother, I lack a pigment… it’s not rare because it’s special, it’s a flaw! Diluted bloodline, or some nonsense, and not actually desirable at all. In my world, I’m an outcast because I’m inferior, so screw your theory. No one cares about that kind of intel, least of all me.” It’s an angry outburst with a basis in old wounds and heartache and I croak with a raw harsh tone in my voice, biting back a surprising tear as it comes out. My own inferiority issues peeking and taking the form of rage.
The doctor begins to laugh, like I said something ridiculous, his wide eyes, and startled, his expression completely unnerves me and throws me off.
“A flaw? By whose standard, dear child? Hybrid blood is spectacular, and a masterpiece of engineering science, my dear. I don’t know who’s been keeping you in the dark all these years with such nonsense, but white… it’s not a flaw. In a breed where you own physical perfection and can selfheal the worst of wounds and illness. You think your DNA would allow such atrocity, by defect? No, of course it wouldn’t, it couldn’t. Your own gifts work out the kinks in your make up, from the second you’re born. It’s the bonding perfection between two species and happens only when the biochemistry of a particular set of genes lines up in a magical way. Two species, two blood types, merging beautifully in one captivating dance that produces a new third, equally magnificent species. You, my dear… are what I have been dying to test for the last decade!! It’s a near impossible combination to make stick without awful deformities, or even loss, and your kind are few and far between. Whoever first engineered your astounding DNA must have been incredibly talented. Tell me, are you a first generation, or are you a natural born?” That grand speech, and whooshing of over excitable words, floors me. I try and absorb half of what that word junkie threw at me, and I’m still sitting blinking at him as my brain catches up the translation from freak talk to plain English.
Awakening: Book 1 Page 32