by B F Worlds
He waved her ahead. "Yeah, just a sec."
"What, you plan on tracking down the killers? Should I call the captain and have you transferred to animal control?" She snickered and Morgan had trouble keeping the smile off his face. That was a pretty good description of his job. "Fine, stay awake if you want to."
He waited until she was out of the alley before he resumed his inspection. As discretely as he could, he knelt by the bodies and breathed deeply, separating the different scents. Three rogues, trash, animal piss, and...a fourth changer. Morgan spied several drops of blood moving away from the large pool drying beneath the body. There hadn't been anything at the front, he would have noticed it coming in. The fourth rogue hadn't escaped.
"Why me?" he groaned softly. If there was a frenzied rogue near all these people and it lost control, he was screwed, no two ways about it. There were two shops next to the ally; one was a thrift shop and the other was a movie rental. He had fifty bucks on the thrift store.
Stepping out of the alley, he pulled his phone and hit the first speed dial. It was answered on the second ring, a tiny miracle at three o'clock in the morning. "Alpha? Yes, I apologize for waking you, but we have a situation. I need a few of the Guards sent my way, soon as possible."
-
Dean cradled her arm as she hunched against the register. Her entire frame shook under the pressure of her wolf throwing itself against her mental barriers. She wouldn't change without tasting her own blood, but that didn't protect her body from the animal. It had taken everything she had to defend herself without changing, a feat seeing as her time on the streets had left her malnourished and weak.
The three attackers had gotten in a few lucky blows. One had nearly taken her arm off after he got his jaw wrapped around it. She'd had to destroy his face so the human cops wouldn't see a boy with a wolf's maw. The effort she'd expended had her on the brink of collapse and she was healing much too slowly for her liking.
The sound of doors slamming and car engines made her relax. The humans were leaving. If she waited an hour or so, she should be well enough to move. She'd have to leave the city. Rogues, wolves exiled from their packs, usually traveled alone, but her attackers ran together.Where there were two wolves, there were probably ten more waiting in the flanks, and it wouldn't be long before the reinforcements came looking for her.
The sound of footsteps made her back straighten with tension. She got to her feet and stepped back until her shoulders were touching the wall. On the opposite side of the counter, four wolves stood facing her with hard expressions. Dammit! There's no way I can take them! And if she let her wolf out in her weakened state, she was likely to go on a rampage in the middle of the city.
One of the wolves stepped in front of the others. He was about her height, with pasty white skin, thick stubble, and watery blue eyes that appraised her coldly. "I'm Franklin Freewood, alpha of the Freewood Pack. May I ask why you are trespassing on my territory, rogue?"
Dean couldn't believe her luck. She had run into a reasonable changer. I might just talk my way out of this one. "Alpha," she said, dipping her head in submission, ignoring her wolf that balked at the gesture. "I don't intrude by choice. I was passing through when I was attacked."
"And a good work you made of them. Taking on three wolves isn't easy, especially for a young girl like yourself."
"Pure luck. I was just wondering what I would do if more of them showed up. I am most grateful that you appeared." Just for good measure, she lowered her head again and this time she kept her eyes pinned to the floor.
She stood like that for several long moments, trying to control her trembling while he studied her. Come on, take the bait. Take it!
"Raise your head and tell me your name."
Dean obeyed. "Dean Rock sir." She hadn't used her real name since the attack. There was no telling where her enemies were.
Franklin nodded and flicked a finger in her direction. Two of the wolves stepped forward. Dean resisted the urge to swing at them as they stood at her shoulders, not touching her but clearly stating they would be there to restrain her if necessary.
"Dean, one of my Guards noticed the work you did, destroying that rogue's face. If you were one of their kind, you wouldn't be nearly so careful with your actions or your manners. I'm willing to listen to the rest of your story, but we'll be going back to my house."
"Of course sir. Whatever you say."
CHAPTER 10
Viktoriya smoothed down her outfit, telling herself for the hundredth time that she didn't need to change. Her worry was justified. Franklin was a great alpha. He was always aware of what needed to be done and the most efficient way to do it. She respected him a great deal. But he was quick to judge and didn't tolerate things that displeased him.
He'd made it clear on several occasions he found the newer "fads" distasteful, leaning toward the conservative, and, as a result, her closet was a drab array of blues, grays, and blacks. She had no idea what she was being called in for so she'd opted for a pair of dark slacks and a plain white shirt, what she considered her working clothes. It was as casual as she was allowed to get. Franklin hated jeans.
Annoyed by her fretting, she pushed her worries to the back of her mind and knocked on his door.
"Enter."
Viktoriya stepped in, closing the door behind her. Franklin was seated as his desk, looking at something on his computer. He was wearing a suit, as he usually did, but his jacket was thrown against the back of his chair and his tie was lying in a crumpled ball on his desk. It was his casual dress. She heaved a mental sigh that she hadn't gone for full dress and stood ready for him to speak. Speaking while Franklin was gathering his thoughts was a good way to get on his bad side, fast.
Finally, he closed his laptop and stood from his chair, grabbing his jacket. "I remember you telling me you were ready for some practical training as a Guard."
She couldn't help the beaming smile that crossed her lips. "Yes sir!"
"Good. Just so happens that there is a situation I think you can help with. Last night, we picked up a young rogue and took her down to the holding cells for questioning."
He walked out of the room and Viktoriya scowled as she easily fell into step with his rapid pace. "A rogue? Why not kill the mutt and be done with it?"
"Because I don't believe she is a mutt. She's selling us some story about how she was part of a pack that was taken out by the rogues. Apparently, she managed to survive by running here, three states over."
"On foot? Even for a changer that would have taken at least two days."
"And she's suffered for it. Malnourished, dehydrated. She almost snapped off Morgan's hand off when he offered her a turkey sub." A dry laugh escaped him. "She acts pack, a thorough submissive. It's hard to tell. Probably an omega."
Viktoriya nodded her head. "Makes sense." An omega wolf was almost as important as an alpha. They were the least dominant in the pack and, as a result, the most protected wolf, sometimes even over wives and mothers. The pack magic that made them what they were demanded it.
The Guards of this rogue's pack would have laid down their lives to make sure she escaped, without a doubt. "But rogues don't chase people that far. They're short-sighted, easily distracted. Why do they want this girl so badly?"
"Maybe they don't want her. More likely they were simply trying to cover their tracks. We don't know about all the packs out there. It's possible a group of rogues are preying on the smaller ones, either for the hell of it or to increase their numbers and we have no idea about it."
She shook her head. "If they're organizing to that degree, they'll become a serious threat."
"And they're coming towards us. Which is why I need you to talk to her. I have a feeling that she isn't telling us everything. Also, I'd like your opinion on her. You have a good instinct for this sort of thing. I'm relying on you, Viktoriya."
She stood a little taller. "Yes sir."
-
Dean thought her prison was rather nice. The
wolves had taken her to a house that made Lucien's house look like a shabby hut and quickly marched her into a basement. The cells had been altered. The bars were mixed with silver, the one thing that could weaken a changer. She could break through them if she needed to but not without a lot of pain.
Most of the cells had been left at that but the one they placed her in had gotten a few extra renovations. Thick beige carpet covered the ground and a large mattress had been laid in the corner, decorated by a thick white comforter and half a dozen pillows. She even had her own light; a small, battery powered lamp that sat in the corner. If she ignored the fact that she was being held prisoner, she was in the lap of luxury.
She lazily chewed on something they called jerky while keeping an eye on the man who stood outside her cage. He stood with his back to her and hadn't spoken a word since she arrived earlier, but Dean found herself interested by him.
He reminded her of her teacher. They had the same quiet strength about them and Dean found herself comforted by it. She wanted to avoid conversation, wary of saying the wrong thing, but she could feel curiosity poking at her mind. And denying her instincts was so much harder now.
Grumbling inwardly, she settled herself an inch away from the bars and called out to him. "Hello?"
He turned to stare at her. "Aye."
"My name is Dean. Can you tell me yours?"
"Dugen, ma'am. Dugen Alexin."
"Dugen, are they going to kill me?"
He seemed shocked by the question. "What gave you that kind of idea?"
The question made Dean laugh. "Everyone who I've come into contact with so far has tried to kill me, use me, or both. Why should you all be any different?"
Dugen seemed affronted. "I don't know who you've dealt with the Freewood Pack is honorable. We don't just kill pups for the hell of it."
"I'm not a pup."
"To me you are. How many years you got? Twenty? Twenty-five? You don't look old enough to have a drink let alone be a serious threat to the pack. And, if Frank decided you needed doing away with, he'd give you a bag and send you on your way, not bury you in the backyard. So relax. You got nothing to worry about."
"Well, that's good to know." Dean resettled herself on the bed. "Surprisingly, I trust you when you say that."
"That so?"
"Yeah. You remind of somebody I used to know. What do you call yourselves? Guards? He was the commander of the Guards of my pack."
"Then it's no surprise that I remind you of him. I'm the commander here as well."
"Truthfully?" He nodded. "Imagine that."
"So if I remind you of him, your commander must have been strong, charming, and devilishly handsome?"
"Oh, gods no. Strong? Yes. Handsome? So-so. Charming? Not a chance. He was the trainer for the new recruits. They called him Demon Lou."
"Sounds terrifying."
"He was, when he needed to be. But more than that, he was immovable. He had a way about him that said if the sky came crashing down, he'd be there to hold it up."
"...Had?"
Dean looked down, closing her eyes. In a moment, she was back home, surrounded by flames. Back at the training field. Lucien in her arms, dying. "He died in the attack."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"He was one of the last to fall and he took dozens of the bastards out with him. He died with pride, for whatever that counts for."
The sound of a door opening caused them both to look up. "I guess it's time for the fun to start again," Dean commented offhand.
Dugen looked at her, his lips turning down in a frown. "Nothing will happen to you Dean. That, I swear."
-
"Sir, excuse me, but could you clarify the nature of this assignment? What exactly do you expect me to accomplish?" Viktoriya asked as she followed Franklin into the basement.
"I believe she holds information that could be valuable into our investigation without being aware of it. She's reasonably cautious and, as an unknown dominant, I might not be approachable. Talk to her. Bond with her. Then report anything of importance."
"Sir, I'm not really the warm and fuzzy type."
"More so than I am. Quiet now, we're close to the cells."
They reached the end of the steps and pushed open a thick metal door that was designed to be sound proof. Viktoriya felt a chill go down her spine. She hated the cells. They were mainly used for adolescent changers still not in full control of their wolves to practice in. She had spent some time in one herself. The memories were hazy, filled with pain and blood.
The rogue was lying in the Alpha Cage, the cell used for his family or high profile prisoners. Dugen snapped a sharp salute as they approached. "Alpha."
"Commander, at ease." Dugen stepped to the side, making room for Franklin and Viktoriya by the bars. She got her first good look at the rogue. A girl, not much older than her, if she went by appearance, with dusky skin and thick dark hair that fell just past her shoulders in a tangled mane. She had her head down, so Viktoriya couldn't see her eyes, but she could tell the girl was well built; with thick arms and strongly muscled legs. The rogue looked like a fighter, not the submissive she was supposed to be, and Viktoriya felt her suspicions rise.
"Good morning Dean," Franklin said. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."
"Yes alpha," Dean replied, eyes firmly fixed to the ground. "It's all thanks to your kindness. I'm most grateful."
"I have a few more questions to ask you. But first, let me introduce you to someone. This is Viktoriya Volkov, a very promising Guard to be."
Dean raised her head and their eyes met. Viktoriya felt her jaw unhinge as they held each others’ stare. The muddy brown irises were calm, almost dead. She couldn't detect a single emotion from that gaze, definitely not the relief she expected from a survivor who had just been rescued.
Yet, something about it shook her. Her wolf howled from where it was trapped behind the barrier of her mind, but she could fell it pushing at her skin, forcing the change. She tried to push it back, but she couldn't. It didn't make sense. This can't be happening again! Against her will, her bones began to creak, her teeth lengthening into canines.
A panicked whimper escaped her throat, drawing the attention of both Franklin and Dugen. Franklin reached for her, but she knocked aside his hand, growling. Inwardly, she was appalled at her actions. Her wolf had knocked down her barrier and taken control. It didn't see its alpha. It saw an obstacle. The wolf wanted the rogue and was ready to tear through anything that stood in the way.
Franklin looked angry enough to pop, but Dugen placed a calming hand on his shoulder, stepping forward. Viktoriya stepped away, her back stiffening as the wolf readied itself to attack. What the hell am I doing? Attacking the Guard Commander is suicide! Stop! Stop! Stop!
Dugen held out a calming hand, snapping it back when Viktoriya growled deeply. "Viktoriya? Vikky, can you talk to me?"
"Yes." Because she was fighting it, the change was going slow and hadn't affected her vocal chords yet. Small mercies.
"Okay Vikky. I think I know what's happening. You're not angry at us. You aren't doing this. The wolf is forcing you, right?"
"Can't control it." Why can't I control it? What's happening to me?
"Alright. I need you to focus. Listen to the wolf. What does it want?"
That's easy. She looked past him to the cage. The rogue was pressed as close to the bars as she could get without being burned by the silver, her eyes focused on Viktoriya. Those eyes were like a siren's call, urging her forward. Viktoriya was walking before she could think about it.
Franklin and Dugen moved out of the way, but not before the commander took the time to open the cage doors. It was madness for a changer to willingly walk into a silver lined cage. Yet, that was what she did, cheerfully, kneeling down in front of the other girl. She reached a hand out, tracing the girl's face, liking the way she leaned into her hand.
With the way she was built, Viktoriya wasn't expecting her to be pretty. but the girl was beau
tiful. She had an angular face but the rest of her features were soft; small nose, large eyes, full lips. The wolf was cooing as it touched her through Viktoriya's body but it wasn't content. It wanted to be closer. It wanted to know her, talk to her. Here she was, basically sitting in this girl's lap and she didn't know her name. And I won't know it if you don't give me back in control!
There was a momentary pause where Viktoriya was sure her animal half would ignore her and keep on. But then, it retreated to the background. The change reversed, leaving her fully human and in control, though still awash with feelings she didn't understand. The pool only got murkier the more she stared into the rogue's eyes. "Wha-" She had to pause to clear her suddenly dry throat. Gods help me, what is wrong with me? "What's your name?"
She could see sweat beading on the rogue's forehead, her hands clenching into fists at her side. "Dean," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Dean." Viktoriya frowned. Such a dull name didn't suit such a pretty face. "I'm Viktoriya."
"It's nice to meet you Viktoriya."
Oh, I'm in trouble. That voice was something right out of her dreams. And when it said her name....she was scared she was going to lose her reason again. Her wolf was laid out, rumbling contentedly like a damn cat. She finally understood what was going on and it struck her like a bolt of lightning. Oh gods. I think she's my...my.... I can't even think about it. She can't be. She can't-
Dean placed her arms around her and Viktoriya's mounting panic faded like smoke in a stiff breeze. She leaned forward, closing her eyes as she melted into the hug. She's my mate. The gods really hate me. But right now, I don't care. "My friends call me Vikky. I would like if you'd call me that."
"Alright....Vikky."
The sound of a throat being cleared caused her to look up. Franklin and Dugen were watching them, the commander with a smile, the alpha with one of his calculating expressions that made Viktoriya nervous. It occurred to her that he might not be happy with her mate. He definitely wouldn't be happy with them flaunting it. I should get up. But she didn't want to. Not yet. Another minute. Her arms curled tighter around Dean's waist. Tops.