Saved by Wolves (Shifters Meet Their Mate Book 1) (13 page)

“You don’t understand,” she said. “Blackstone and the lab affect you too.”

Jackson, who was laying larger branches on the fire, squinted at her through the sparks thrown up by the burning wood. “How?”

“They’re experimenting on shifters too.”

A
t their disbelieving looks, Kirra hastened to explain. “When I was pretty young—maybe six or seven—I was being led back to my room after my session in the ‘study room.’ Each study room had a one-way mirror in it so people could observe from an adjoining room. The door to one of the observation rooms was open when we passed it, and I could hear grunting and cursing, so I looked inside.

“A man in a lab coat was using a speaker, talking to two guards on the other side of the mirror, ordering them to torture the chained, naked man in the study room. They jabbed him with a cattle prod, over and over, and he howled. He was in agony.” Even years later, knowing what they were capable of, the cruelness of it still shocked her. “I yelled at them to stop, but my guard pulled me away. Just before we were out of sight, I saw it.” She met Jackson’s eyes, willing him to believe her. “He shifted. One second he was human, and the next he was a bear. His roar shook the building.

“When I asked about him later, I was told I’d imagined it and to stop telling lies or else. I didn’t believe them, though, and I paid attention after that. I know for a fact there was at least the one Bear, two Raptors, and a Wolf when I was there. I had no idea they were shifters until years later, after we escaped.”

“If you’ve known this for years, why didn’t you warn us before now?” Jackson asked.

Because doing so would have exposed not only herself, but Francesca to risk. That sounded like a weak excuse to her own ears. Maybe the truth was she’d been weak and selfish. She didn’t want to say that out loud, though. The way Jackson was looking at her—and the way he’d been avoiding her earlier—signaled his opinion of her was already dropping.

“Because we didn’t have proof,” she finally said. “And because when we escaped we were fourteen, had no idea you existed, and traveled across the country to get as far away as we could. We only moved back to this area because they tracked us down, and I convinced Francesca that we’d be better off hiding in their backyard. The whole hide-in-plain-sight thing.” That had been a miscalculation of epic proportions.

“So that’s my story,” she said. “I’m sure the lab is still running—Blackstone wouldn’t have sent a team after us if it wasn’t. And I’m guessing that some of those shifters you think ran off or were killed by hunters were actually kidnapped. I don’t know what they were doing with them beyond torture, but I’d bet it has to do with the super soldier program.”

Jackson’s stoic expression didn’t betray what he felt, but Marcus was leaning forward, hands clasped together, a grim twist to his mouth.

“Finn and Jason,” he said quietly.

“Maybe.” Jackson nodded. “And Sam and... and my uncle. They all disappeared without a trace while patrolling near the Cats’ territory. We blamed the Cats at first—it’s part of the bad blood between us,” he said as an aside to her. “We never found any proof, though.”

“Don’t let the Cats off the hook so easily,” Marcus said. “Even if they aren’t directly to blame, they’re involved with the humans.”

They believed her. Kirra let out a silent sigh of relief and felt the tension knotting her stomach lessen a fraction.

Jackson rolled his shoulders. “True. Where’s the lab?” he asked her.

“I can show you. Just a sec,” she said, going to her pack. Tucked into a side pocket was the map she’d brought with her and the smaller one that detailed Shifter Territory that she’d taken from Marcus’s gran. Marcus got up so she could spread the larger map on the log. On it, Shifter Territory was a swath of grey, with no details beyond topographical elements such as the mountain ranges and bodies of water. “There’s nothing on here to indicate who owns what land,” she said.

“It’s part of our deal with the humans,” Jackson said. “The last thing we want is to have our towns marked on a map.”

Humans. The disdain in his voice as he said the word made Kirra wrap her arms around herself again. Is that how he thought of her? As a human, not as a woman? She realized he was still speaking and tuned back in.

“...even if it didn’t bring hunters, it would be a flashing red sign for shifter bunnies to follow.”

Shifter bunnies. Another derogatory term. That one she understood, though. There was a group of people—mainly women, but some men too, from what she’d heard—who hung around in human towns that bordered shifter lands, hoping to catch the eye of a shifter. Sex with a shifter was supposed to be wild—and boy was there truth to that rumor. She could understand the attraction—she was living the attraction. Kirra eyed Jackson, wondering if he’d ever been tempted by the bunnies. From his words, she thought no. Or at least she hoped it. Picturing him with a succession of sexy, eager women made her stomach start churning again.

Shoving the nasty thought from her mind, Kirra tapped a point on the map roughly twenty miles northwest of shifter territory. “The lab’s here, about a mile outside the city limits of Davidston. It’s called Henderson Biotech and their website says their research focuses on developing disease-resistant wheat. If they are, it’s only as a cover. It’s a subsidiary of Blackstone International. I tried following the paper trail to prove they’re directly funded by the military, but I had to stop looking for answers a few years ago—I think they had a website I visited flagged, as the week after I started researching Blackstone in depth is when they almost caught us. I’m not sure what tipped them off this time.”

“And you’re sure they’re still there?” Marcus asked, laying the smaller map on top of the larger, attempting to line them up.

“No. They could have ten other labs around the country for all I know. Probably do. But this is where Lokston worked, so unless he’s been transferred, it’s where he’ll take Francesca.” He had to take here there; otherwise, she was screwed. She had no idea where else to look. She took a deep breath. They wouldn’t move unless forced to. Henderson was a good location for them, near a midsize town, so the number of workers wouldn’t be noticeable, near highways for transport, yet secluded enough that they could keep under the radar. They’d be there.

––––––––

“L
okston?” Jackson asked. He was studying the map now too. Davidston was close to Cat territory, just as she’d feared.

“He headed security at the lab. He was... not nice.” An understatement if she’d ever uttered one.

Marcus traced a path from where she guessed they were, up to Blue’s Hollow and then across to Davidston. “It’s at least a two-day trek from Blue’s. Closer to four if we have to avoid the Cats.”

“You’ll help me then?” She fought to keep her voice calm and steady. Tears of relief threatened to well.

“If what you’re saying is true, I don’t see how we can’t.”

“We have to convince the alphas first,” Jackson said. “And unless you can prove your electrical powers, that might be a hard sell, especially when you accuse the Cats of being involved. Vincent will be there. He won’t react well.”

Marcus frowned. “He sent his goons to kidnap her, Jackson. Surely that says something’s going on. I’ve never heard of the Cats being that interested in a human before, not even one who’s trespassing.”

“I agree. The alphas might not, though. It would mean the end of the treaty. Plus, what do the Cats get out of working with humans?” He directed the question at Kirra, but she didn’t have an answer.

“How many council members are there?” she asked. “Do we have to convince them all, or will a majority work?”

Marcus folded the maps while Jackson answered. “There are five: Jasper, our alpha, who’s married to Serena, and Vincent, the Cat alpha—Lash is his son. Then there’s Caspian, a wereowl, alpha of the Raptor Clan, Frank Rock, alpha of the Alpine Bear Pack, and Justine, a werebadger, alpha of the—what are they calling themselves now?” he asked Marcus.

“Mustelidae and Small—no, wait, that was last month. I think it’s Underground Dwellers and Small Mammals now. For some reason they didn’t like being called Rodents and Small Mammals,” he said as an aside to Kirra.

“I had no idea there were werebadgers or wererodents,” she said.

Marcus grinned. “Most people don’t. Don’t tell Justine that, though. Nothing gets her back up like being overlooked.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” A werebadger didn’t sound overly dangerous, but considering how much larger than true wolves Marcus and Jackson were when they shifted, Justine could very well turn out to be a four-foot werebadger. Not someone she’d want to be on the bad side of.

“We need four out of five,” Jackson continued. “But if Vincent fights it, Justine will back him even if she doesn’t agree. Her land butts up against the Cats’—Vincent could make life miserable for her if he wanted to, and she knows it.”

“Well, what if we convince your alpha? Would he help?”

A shrug was his answer. “It could go either way. Without proof...”

Marcus slung a reassuring arm over her shoulders. “We’ll help get your sister back no matter what,” he said, tilting her head so he could look into her eyes.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Jackson said.

Marcus’s arm tensed. “Are you saying you won’t help?”

“What I’m saying is that the alpha’s word is final. If he says no, then that’s it.”

“But—”

“No buts. We’re enforcers, Marcus. We swore allegiance to our pack and our alpha. That means we don’t get to change the rules—we enforce them. We’re skirting the line as it is, bringing a human to Blue’s Hollow.”

There it was again. Human. If he thought so little of her, why had he been so eager to make love to her earlier? Then again, it probably wasn’t “making love” in his mind. She’d probably seemed pathetically eager and available, like a shifter bunny. What had felt impulsive yet romantic earlier suddenly felt tarnished and dirty. Tears welled in her eyes, and she was glad the sun had set, leaving the campsite in the dark except for a small ring of light around the fire. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her tears and realize how much his rejection hurt.

“You can’t ignore right and wr—”

Jackson cut him off again. “There’s no debate here, Marcus.” He stared grimly off into the shadowy woods. “I’m going to track down something more interesting for dinner than that awful jerky.”

“You’re the one who packed the jerky,” Marcus called after him as he stalked off.

K
irra rolled onto her back, wriggling to find a more comfortable position. She’d been lying awake for hours. She’d tried counting sheep, then stars, then recited a poem over and over, hoping the repetition would lull her to sleep. Nothing worked. She couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t because of the uneven ground and the sharp rocks poking her through her blankets. Her brain refused to shut off. It whirled with crazy thoughts.

One in particular wouldn’t go away. When she’d made love to Jackson—correction: when they’d had lust-fueled sex—they hadn’t used any protection. The risk of STDs wasn’t what worried her—she knew she was clean, and from what she’d heard, shifters had a natural immunity against most diseases. No, it was the risk of pregnancy that had her clutching her stomach and praying.

The section on mating Gran had directed her to read said that male shifters could control when their sperm was viable. They had built-in birth control, essentially. It also said that when shifters had attempted to mate and have children with non-shifters, it had ended in tragedy. Stillborns and massive birth defects were the norm. Sketches punctuated the chapter, and they weren’t pretty.

Had Jackson “shut off” the baby-making part of him? What if he hadn’t? The question had first occurred to her when she was telling them about the lab impregnating women. She’d had to bite her tongue not to ask him then and there. Only the awkwardness of having to explain what happened to Marcus stopped her. All evening, she’d searched for a way to bring the topic up, but she couldn’t pin Jackson down. The jerk was avoiding her.

Sighing, she pulled the blankets tighter around her neck, trying to block out the cool night air. As soon as the sun set, the temperature had plummeted. A Wolf-furnace at her back would be ideal, but somehow she didn’t think Jackson was going to volunteer for that duty again. And she certainly wasn’t going to ask him. She’d turn into a Popsicle first.

On the other side of the fire, which was down to glowing embers, Jackson was an unmoving lump. He and Marcus had shifted into their Wolf forms after dinner, and Marcus had taken first watch. She didn’t know exactly where he was—presumably scouting the area for intruders, but close enough to signal if there was trouble.

Knowing he couldn’t see her, and likely wouldn’t care even if he did—Kirra stuck her tongue out in Jackson’s direction. It was juvenile, but it made her feel better for a few seconds.

Then a hint of shame tricked in. He might not be acting like a lovesick fool around her, but he was helping her get to the council. And if his alpha approved, he’d help her rescue Francesca. Full-fledged support like Marcus’s would have been ideal, but at least he hadn’t said no. Reaching Blue’s Hollow would take another three days, so she had plenty of time to bring him over to her side. Francesca’s life depended on it.

Light panting came from behind her, sounding mere inches from the back of her head. Kirra sat up with a jolt and fought her way out from under her blankets, half expecting some wild animal to tear at her with wicked teeth and claws. Her heart thrummed in her ears. She faced the threat, holding the blankets in front of her—they were pitiful as a shield, but they were all she had—and blinked, trying to make out objects in the moonlight. Staring into the firelight for hours had dulled her night vision.

Something warm nudged the side of her waist. Something large. It made no attempt to bite, though.

Kirra risked a glance down and swatted away the Wolf’s wet nose. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?” she hissed at Marcus.