A Mate Beyond Their Reach (11 page)

After a brief pause, Lucius laughed. “Well, thanks for telling me.

Yet another reason to kill your little human.”

The statement shocked Trent beyond words. “Surely you understand,” Lucius continued. “Our entire society is built upon the basis of fighting against the ferals. If the ferals were gone, everything would crumble.”

“I can’t believe this,” Val gasped out. “You love your bureaucracy so much that you’d be willing to go against the same laws you claim to keep?”

“You have no right to judge me,” Lucius spat. “At any rate, I didn’t come here for this. I wanted to notify you your mate has been deemed a peril for the existence of our race. I’ve already sent hunters after him. They are instructed to use all methods at their disposal to eliminate this threat. So don’t even think of escaping. Even if you’d manage to get out now, you’d never reach him in time.”

Trent felt like he was choking. For whatever reason, he knew the other man didn’t lie to them. The brutal honesty tore through him. He could smell it, taste it in his mouth. “But you will be allowed to claim your bond,” Lucius continued. “So stop thinking about the human.

You are lucky to have found each other. The rest doesn’t matter.”

With that, Lucius turned on his heel and stalked off. “This isn’t possible,” Val whispered. “The Magistrate wouldn’t decree such a monstrosity. He wouldn’t have decided a hunt so soon.”

Trent nodded, feeling dazed. “Your father is insane.”

Lucius’s words rang out in his head, cruel and heartless.
Eliminate
the threat. Eliminate Drew.
No. Trent could not allow it. Trent screamed, and his desperate shout turned into a howl as he shifted on the spot. He attacked the door, scratching with his claws, ignoring the burn of the silver. At the other side, Val did the same, their anger and terror giving them the strength to cast aside all weakness.

But no matter how much they tried, the door wouldn’t give. Over and over, Trent lunged at it, to no avail. Exhausted, he collapsed on the floor, clinging to his mate’s image. This morning, Drew had smiled at him before Trent boarded the helicopter. “Come back soon,”

he’d said. They’d shared a sweet kiss, and Trent had replied, “I will, and I’ll bring our errant mate along.”

It would seem he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise. His only hope lay with his parents. Perhaps they could protect Drew from Lucius’s forces. Only that trust, and Val’s presence, kept him from losing it right then and there.

Out of the blue, Trent felt another presence. For an instant, he almost thought Lucius had returned to taunt them. But then, a familiar scent reached his nostrils. Silver wolves never forgot such things, and he’d smelled this particular person recently. He’d followed this trail into Tennington. Jaws.

Trent turned into his human form and looked out into the corridor through the bars. He’d thought he’d killed the little bastard.

Apparently not. But what could Jaws be doing here? Trent couldn’t be sure as to their exact location, but his best guess would be one of Lucius D’Averam’s many homes. It wasn’t a good place for a feral to be.

To further increase his dismay, Trent realized something had changed about the man. At first, he could just scent it, but when Jaws emerged from the shadows, he saw it, too. The feral madness seemed to have receded somewhat, the corruption still present, but distant, as if held back by an invisible barrier.

Jaws made his way toward them, and to Trent’s shock, retrieved a key. “Hurry,” he said as he inserted the key in the lock of Trent’s door. “There isn’t much time.”

At first, Trent thought Jaws must have some trick up his sleeve.

But the feral just opened his cell, then did the same with Val’s.

“Come,” he urged them once again. “The guards will show up any moment now.”

Trent didn’t understand a thing. His hunter training told him to take the feral down, but something inside him kept him from doing so. The change in Jaws confused him. Most importantly, Trent had other priorities, to get out of this place and save his mate.

Jaws led them out of the cellblock. On the way, they ran into unconscious, but still alive, guards. Trent’s bewilderment increased more and more. “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “I almost killed you.”

“Precisely,” Jaws replied without looking at him. “You bit me, but you didn’t kill me. It seems that by doing so, you pushed the feral virus back.”

Trent couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re kidding.”

“You know I’m not,” Jaws replied. “Apparently, if a spirit wolf bites a feral, it can push the feral virus back. It’s not a cure, but it staves the madness for a while. I’m not sure why.”

“But someone would have realized it by now if it were true,” Val protested.

Jaws stopped and turned toward them. His gaze looked strikingly clear. “When exactly would this have happened? Spirit wolves are too busy hunting ferals down to consider giving them a second chance. If they do bite a feral, the wolf in question doesn’t get to live enough to show the effects. In other circumstances, I myself wouldn’t have lived.”

Trent felt horrified. All this time, he’d killed sick people. If he’d only waited once, he would have seen it. A terrible thought slipped into his mind. What if some of his kin had known, but kept it hidden, for the same reasons Lucius intended to kill Drew? Could the spirit wolves be more corrupt than the ferals themselves?

Val probably had the same dilemma, but played the devil’s advocate regardless. “Either way, that still doesn’t explain why you came here out all places.”

Jaws didn’t get the chance to answer. A couple appeared from the corridor ahead. The man was Lucius D’Averam, so Trent guessed the woman to be his mate, Clara. They stared at Jaws as if he were a frightening apparition.

Val looked as tense and puzzled as Trent felt. “Mother? What are you doing here?”

Jaws chuckled humorlessly. “Would you care to explain it, Clara, or should I?”

“Alec, don’t do this,” Lucius said.

Clearly, the three were old acquaintances, as Clara burst into sobs and Lucius sounded lost. Trent could see no sign of the cool, unruffled man who’d come to visit them in the cellblock.

Jaws—or, rather, Alec—took a few steps forward. “But I have to.

I’ve waited a long time to have the strength to do this.” He stole a look toward Val and Trent. “In case you haven’t already figured it out, I am their mate. I was human once before your respectable father bit me.”

His gaze returned to Clara and Lucius. “But they abandoned me.

They left me to my madness, not caring that with each passing moment, I lay trapped within the prison of my own body. Do you have any idea how it feels to watch yourself kill the ones you used to love and respect? I do.”

Trent’s mind couldn’t compute what was going on. Clara covered her ears, tears streaming down her face. Lucius didn’t even try to deny the accusations. “What would you have had us do? Kill you? We couldn’t find any solution.”

“Yes!” Alec glared at Lucius. “Anything would have been better than releasing me onto the humans. What did you expect to gain, my eternal gratitude? Do you know how many times I begged for death inside, always skirting at the very edge of it, hunted, hunting, but unable to give up? Oh, wait, you probably do. Tell me, Lucius, how do you sleep at night?”

“A good question, father,” Val piped in coolly. “How could you refuse the chance Drew offered, the chance for a cure, when your own mate suffered because of it?”

Val’s words stopped Clara’s weeping. She wiped her eyes and looked at her son. “A cure isn’t possible,” she said mournfully. “You must forget about your human. It’s for the best.”

“Like you forgot about me?” Alec shouted. “Excellent advice.

Well, I’ll have you know, Clara, that a cure is possible. I am convinced of it now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here, talking to you. I’d be out there, killing helpless humans.”

Lucius seemed to tense even further. “What did you do?”

Alec sighed. “Perhaps one day, you will know.” His voice sounded gruff, reminding Trent of the night he’d last seen Jaws.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t last. The madness is returning.

You tell that to your human, Trent Hart. And take care of him.”

Under Trent’s astonished eyes, Alec retrieved an old-fashioned pistol and placed it against his temple. Clara cried out, and Lucius lunged forward. Val tried to reach out as well. Just a minute away, soldiers approached. None of them were in time. The bullet shot echoed through the corridor with obscene loudness. The angle and momentum made blood and brains splatter all over Lucius’s face and flawless suit. Trent had killed many in his lifetime, and yet the scene struck him as particularly gruesome.

Lucius caught his dead mate before Alec hit the ground. He held the lifeless body to his chest, whispering nonsensical words. Clara keened gently as she watched them.

Val made his way to his mother and took her hand. “Mother, are you all right?” he asked.

She didn’t answer, nor did she show any indication she’d heard him. Trent couldn’t imagine the extent of her pain, of her loss. In a sense, he couldn’t blame her and Lucius for not wanting to kill their mate, but releasing Alec had been just as wrong. Alec could have died at the hands of hunters a great number of times. Lucius just expected someone else to do his dirty work. How could the man have allowed his mate to suffer so? Trent couldn’t even understand how Lucius even came to bite a human, given what Val told them about his dead brother.

It was only when soldiers surrounded them that Clara broke out of her trance. “Let them pass,” she said, voice like cold steel. “Leave us, and get out of my sight.”

The men looked confused and looked toward Lucius. The Head Judiciary said nothing, still frozen in the same position. Clara growled at them. “I said back off.”

At that, the soldiers cowered and gave them space. Clara turned toward Val. “Go, child. Go. Save your mate. Do what I was unable to do.”

Val hugged and thanked her. With a final look toward Lucius and his dead mate, they rushed off. A terrible vision appeared in Trent’s mind, Alec’s body replaced by Drew’s. No, he wouldn’t allow it.

They’d get there in time.

“Follow me,” Val said. “Storm or no storm, we’re flying there.”

Val unerringly led them through the house and outside. “This is my father’s headquarters in Oregon,” he explained. “If we take a chopper, we could be at your folks’ place in a couple of hours.”

Trent followed his mate to the hangar. No one stopped them, having obviously heard about Clara’s order. At last, they reached their destination and climbed into one of the helicopters. The top of the hangar lifted, allowing them free passage. As they flew off, Trent’s heart went to his mate. Would they get to Drew in time?

Drew stared at the results of the test without really seeing them.

He should have been satisfied. The laboratory here offered all the equipment, automated analyzers, centrifugal machines, a storage room for his samples and cultures, in essence everything he might need to achieve his goal. But anxiety coursed through him, and he couldn’t really focus on his work. Ever since Trent had left this morning, a feeling of impending doom assaulted his thoughts.

Trent told him about the past of the Harts, and Drew had been thinking over the situation taking into account the new information.

He’d reached the conclusion something more lay beneath all the laws of the spirit wolves. He just couldn’t figure out what. Now, his mates counted on him to find a cure that would allow them to be together and might change the fates of many spirit wolves out there. But his heart wouldn’t listen to reason, and a little voice inside him whispered,
What if something happens to them? What will you do
then?

Sighing, Drew realized he could not focus on his work. He abandoned his research and made for the door. Perhaps talking to his son would help.

Before he could exit the lab, a black-clad, masked figure intercepted him. “Doctor Andrew Blunt, I presume,” the man said.

The intruder had come out of nowhere, but it seemed obvious he didn’t have good intentions. He’d thought they were safe here. Had he been deceived?

Drew forced himself not to show fear. “That’s right. You have an advantage over me there, since I don’t know who you are.”

The masked man chuckled. “You can’t fool me. I can scent your fear.” He paused, as if thoughtful. “It’s too bad, really. I can almost understand your appeal. But orders are orders.”

The man violently grabbed Drew’s arm and pushed him inside the main laboratory room. Drew registered the flash of a gun and pain exploded in his abdomen. He collapsed, clutching his wound, instinctively trying to stop the blood flow. The masked man pointed the gun at him again, ready to finish the job, but rushed footsteps sounded outside. Someone must have sensed the intruder.

Drew’s attacker hesitated, and turned his gun on the storage equipment. Samples of blood voluntarily donated by spirit wolves in the Hart compound lay there in a sterile environment. Drew had analyzed its effect by combining it with human blood and figured out that spirit wolf saliva somehow activated the virus. It would seem his research would go to waste now.

A rain of bullets spread through the samples and machines. Drew cried out when the projectiles landed in his quarantined section, where he’d stored his viral cultures, straight above him. A shower of glass and shattered vials fell over Drew. Even if the virus wasn’t airborne, the state of the cultures might allow it to spread regardless.

“The virus,” he choked. “The virus is there. Stop, please.”

The man slowly backed off, but otherwise ignored him. At last, after he wreaked destruction in the lab, he turned his back on Drew and abandoned him there.

For a little while, Drew wondered why his attacker hadn’t killed him. The man had plenty of time for one more bullet. But a few minutes later, he began to understand. He felt the viral particles flow into him through his bloody wound. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’d become a feral, and then, his mates would be forced to kill him. No. Anything else but this.