KnightForce Damian (La Patron's KnightForce Book 4) (3 page)

"You don't think it's random?"

"No. At least I don't want to borrow that kind of trouble. I'd prefer to rule out the plausible first. We'll start with the bitch since she's the worst case and only female.
"

Raoul nodded and followed him.

"Dr. Okla?" He stopped a distance to give her a semblance of privacy while she talked with the nurse. She turned and looked over her shoulder at him. Wisps of her long, dark brown hair brushed against her shoulder and the side of her face.

"One second." She turned back to the nurse, communicating in silence.

Damian went over his conversation with Hawke, the suggestions were sound and he might get lucky. A female with a strange scent walked past them and out the double doors. There was nothing remarkable about her average height and medium frame, yet he hadn't taken his eyes from her since he picked up her unusual scent.

"How can I help you?" Dr. Okla asked, stepping close.

"Who was that?" He pointed to the doors and watched the back of Raoul's head as he jogged through the opened door, looking around.

"Who?"

"The female with the strange scent, didn't you smell her?"

Dr. Okla's face tightened. It took a moment for her to speak. "No, my sense of smell is thrown off by constant exposure to..." She waved her arm around the room.

Damian didn't know what to say, his surprised look must've prompted her defense.

"I have an acute sense of smell when it comes to sickness and disease, which is how we diagnose our patients. Rest assured, I do have a sense of smell, it's just evolved and is more targeted to illness or wellness."

Recognizing the difficulty of her admission, Damian touched the back of her hand. Her eyes widened as she looked into his gaze.

"It's okay. I'm not challenging your abilities; I need to check everything and anyone who's different."

Relief filled her gaze. "I understand. Check the security cams, you might see whoever it was on those. Is that all you needed?"

"No. We'll need access to the files of every person stricken with the virus."

She nodded, tapped on her tablet. "I assumed that would be necessary. I've sent the caseload to your office drop box."

Raoul returned with a stricken look. "Didn't catch her."

Damian slapped him on the back and headed to the door. "We'll find her on the cam."

Chapter 4

Silas Knight, La Patron, leader of all wolves in the United States, leaned against the wall of his bedroom suite. He stared at the figure lying on the bed oblivious to the shy rays of morning sunlight filtering through the curtains skipping across her skin.

Jasmine
.

His heart. His mate. His destiny. Her chest rose and fell, rhythmically in sync with his. Even asleep, this strong connection they shared remained tight. He marveled at how peaceful she appeared, lying with one leg above the covers and the other beneath. Head to the side, curly strands of dark hair half covered her face, impeding his view. Not that he required the visual, every inch of her body, from the top of her head to the curl of her smallest toe, were indelibly printed within his mind. With eyes closed he would still see her.

His gaze drifted to her mouth, those full lips capable of sending him spiraling to the highest peaks of pleasure or dashing into new depths of despair. Thinking of their conversation last night, he smiled. She'd asked to move the family trip he'd promised to Niagara Falls, up a few months. But summer was the best time to see the views and the pups were out of school. Once he shared the preparations he'd started, the events he’d planned and security he’d sent ahead to insure everything was ready, she hadn't been happy, but accepted his explanation for keeping the same dates.

Moving to the bed, he placed his knee on the mattress and she rolled toward him a bit. Smiling, he traced her upper lip with his fingertip.

She swatted his hand as if it were a pesky bug.

Eager to see what she'd do next, he traced her lower lip with his index finger and grazed the pad of his thumb across the plump center.

She bit him.

Laughing, he left his thumb in place, hoping she'd bite again.

She pushed his thumb from her mouth and rolled over. "Why are you bothering me?" Her question ended on a mournful note.

"Bothering you? Is that what I'm doing?" He lay fully on the bed and pulled her close despite her weak struggles to remain apart.

"Yes. I want to sleep a little longer, the sun's not even up."

"Not all the way, but it's rising, that counts." He pulled her arms around his neck and rested his forehead against hers. "I watched you sleep, you're just as beautiful. So very beautiful."

"Wolfie..." She said his name with so much emotion it reached inside his chest and stroked his heart.

"So if I'm bothering you, it's only because I couldn't take being on the other side of the room without touching you another second. I need to feel you in my arms, you're perfect for me."

"You're perfect for me too." She chuckled. "This is not fair. You've had time to think of all those really cool, panty melting things to say and I can't think past the sleep crowding my mind." She leaned back and stared into his eyes. "But know this, I love you more than life itself. Before you, life was beige, not as bright as it could be. My heart sings with new life since you came into my life."

He laughs. "Are those lyrics from a song?"

She laughed. "Maybe, but for early morning romance, it rocks and you know it."

He kissed her. Initially he meant for it to be just a simple brushing against her lips, almost casual since she had this thing about kissing before brushing her teeth. But her arms tightened behind his neck, drawing him closer. He lost himself in her embrace and deepened the kiss, tasting, teasing, and hopefully tempting her for another round of love-making.

They broke on a gasp, heartbeats racing and still in sync. The top of her head brushed against his chin as she rested on him. Her arms moved to his waist in a comfortable embrace, not as tight as before and he knew this morning would be one of cuddling and comforting. Happy for these quiet moments alone with his mate, his arms tightened around her. "My treasure."

She smiled against his chest. "I like being with you like this, before the kids are awake, or dealing with national problems, or talking to Alphas. Just having you to myself for five, ten, or however long is priceless for me," she whispered.

The sobriety of her words struck a reciprocating chord in him. Some days the kids had projects or school work or sports or dance or something she had to attend, and for the most part he'd rather her do those things than him, but he loved having her to himself like this. "When you say it, it doesn't sound as selfish as when I think it."

She chuckled. "It's totally selfish and that's okay. One day the kids will be grown, have dens of their own--"

"And still need you, which means they'll continue to eat your time." He kissed her hair. "But that's okay, I have this. No one else ever gets this with you."

She snuggled closer. "So true."

"Asia and Hawke returned late last night," he said into the silence a few minutes later.

"I know, we talked a little and plan to catch up today. I made it clear I didn't want to see any Mickey Mouse pictures unless I was in it. When she asked who was that, I laughed."

"Who is that?" he asked.

Jasmine leaned back staring at him. "Oh my goodness, you're serious."

Curious, he nodded.

She sighed the way she did whenever she didn't want to explain something she thought he should know, usually some type of human folklore or icon, like a mouse with a name.

"Later, I'm not up to all that right now."

He rubbed her back while smiling at how put out she sounded. "Damian caught rogues last night, more like three this morning."

Her head shot up and met his gaze. "Rogues? Thieves? Or rebels?"

"Thieves. A little problem with full-bloods breaking into human warehouses and stealing. From what I understand, he did a good job."

"Of course he would." She returned to his chest.

"Alpha Bart's concerned though, so is Angus."

"Concerned? About what?"

"Damian's not integrating into the community. He has very little contact with other wolves, which isn't normal."

She nodded, and remained silent for a few seconds. "Raised in a lab, he survived as a lone wolf."

"Yeah, but he needs pack to work efficiently in that area. It's dangerous for him to isolate himself, the last thing I want is for my enemies to realize he doesn't think in terms of pack. Worse, what if Damian doesn't think in terms of pack when he goes against an adversary, and thinks in terms of a personal challenge. That's not the way we do it."

"Why didn't he learn it in training?"

Angus mentioned some variation of that earlier. "Because it's taught to our pups. Damian gets along so well with everyone it never occurred to any of us that he lacked pack instincts. The need to be with our kind, to share the kill or burden, to hunt together... we forgot he never lived in a den."

"Neither did Hawke or Asia. Both were raised in labs. Do they have a pack mentality?"

"Not really. Asia serves you specifically and me generally. Hawke's here because of Asia and our bond has grown stronger over time, but neither have pack instincts, like the twins, or Matt, or the others raised in packs."

"Can it be fixed? Damian's issue I mean, not Hawke or Asia, they're fine."

Silas smiled at her quick defense of her friend. "We are going to try, otherwise his KnightForce training was in vain. He cannot serve pack if he's not pack."

Chapter 5

Damian read through all the files of the infected. As far as he could tell, their only connection was their full-blood status. Per KnightForce guidelines, he sent his findings and copies of the files to Russell and Eugene, the other two KnightForce agents assigned in the state, for their opinions and insight. In the meantime, he and Raoul headed to the home of Sheila Heights, the lone female full-blood with the itch malady.

Half an hour later, at the end of a long road, sat a small square house with spooky charm and windows so narrow only half of his body would fit through. There was nothing picturesque or attractive about the green tangle of ivy climbing one side and stopping promptly at the roof as if an invisible line had been drawn restricting forward momentum. A dull, quiet air seeped from its brick walls, at odds with the upbeat vibes from the much newer homes a few hundred feet away.

Damian looked over his shoulder at the large two-story modern houses lining the long road and then back at this sad, one-story structure surrounded by a profusion of nettles and blackberry thorns. A thick hedge of oak and various trees formed a natural barrier behind the house, lending shade and a modicum of protection. Never had a place seemed so isolated and alone, tucked away in the corner at the end of the road as if forgotten and unwelcomed.

According to public records Sheila Height, the only female full-blood to succumb to the itching virus, lived alone in this place. Her file painted a picture of an older, unemployed, female wolf, quite unsociable, who kept to herself and rarely participated in pack business. The house mirrored the profile of its owner.

In his youth, Damian had lived in a sterile cube in the Liege's lab carefully designed to rob a young boy's dreams of life beyond the ten foot walls. The aura of this place repulsed him, reminding him of those days.

"
Check out the back, the woods,
" he told Raoul as he stepped out, closing the SUV door behind him. For once Raoul didn't make a smart remark or add his two bits before heading to the back.

Inhaling, Damian confirmed his suspicions that the place was empty. He strode to the porch, avoiding loose boards on the step and twisted the knob. The door opened without complaint, a musty smell with a hint of something tart, tickled his nose. Moving inside the dim uninviting room, his gaze swept across old, well-used furniture. No TV, radio, telephone, nothing to suggest Height lived in the new century.

A bedroom, bath, living and kitchen area made up the house, with a single entrance, which surprised him. Full-bloods were trained to always have more than one avenue of escape. Suspicious, he tapped every wall and stomped on the floor seeking a secret retreat and found nothing.

He was about to leave when he spied a round, pale gray button on the floor hedged against the wall with spatters of red on its edges. Moving closer, Damian pulled out a pair of latex gloves and his small inspection kit from his pocket. Gloves on, he removed a pair of tweezers from the kit and picked up the button so he could see it better. Inhaling, he identified the unmistakable scent of blood.

But whose blood? He closed his eyes and inhaled again. Following the faint scent his feet crossed the hardwood floors into the living room and out the door. Crisp dead leaves and small twigs snapped beneath his feet as his beast locked in on its prey and continued deeper into the woods until he stopped.

"
What's going on?
" Raoul asked, standing behind him.

Damian showed him the button while staring at the ground.
"A button? What's on it?"

"Blood. The scent stops here. Look around, see what you find.
" Damian dropped to his knee and brushed away the leaves covering the ground. Taking a scoop of dirt in his hand, he sniffed. The blood on the button spilled on this dirt as well. What was the connection?

"Check this out."

Damian stood and headed to Raoul.
"What?"

"A metal plate. There's no handle or latch, could belong to the city or something, huh?"

"Could be, the water table's too low for anything below ground out here,
" Damian said, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture to research later.

"Yeah, I was thinking that.
" Raoul stood and continued looking around.

Damian sniffed the dirt again to detect anything other than the blood and found nothing, which surprised him. Every person had a scent.

"
I don't smell anything,"
Raoul said, meeting Damian near the metal plate.

"Okay, check out the house in case I missed something and then we'll go to the next person on the list."

Raoul saluted as he walked off toward the house.

"Hey!"

Hearing Raoul's yell, Damian ran to the house. Raoul walked the length of the short porch, nose in the air.
"She was here.
"

Damian picked up the scent of the female from the hospital and looked around. The scent went in circles, which made no sense. "
Yeah, think she's following us?"

Raoul stopped and stared at Damian. "
Why would she do that? Do you know her?"

"No, just by scent. Never met her or seen her face. But her being in the same area and disappearing twice in the same day is too much a coincidence and I don't believe in those."

Raoul nodded as he inhaled deeply. "
Smells good though."

Damian rolled his eyes and walked inside. "
Did you inspect this place as I asked?
"

"Not yet,
" Raoul said, moving inside. "
Phew, that stinks. What’s that?
"

Damian noticed the noxious odor which hadn't been in the house during his inspection. He opened the bedroom door and on the dresser was a cup filled with liquids and herbs releasing the rancid smell.

Raoul covered his nose as he backed away from the room. "
What is that
?"

"I don't know,
" Damian said, closing the door and following Raoul toward the exit. "
It wasn't there a few minutes ago when I looked around."

"She put it there?"
Raoul asked, a tinge of disbelief and confusion in his voice.

"
Her scent's the only one I'm picking up
." Damian said, looking around for clues.

They stepped onto the porch. Damian looked at the button again, sniffed and frowned. "What the hell?" he murmured bringing the button closer to his nose.
"I lost the scent.
" Disbelief bled through his words as he looked at Raoul.

"
What?
" Raoul leaned forward to smell the button. The first time he shook his head and then tried again. The look on his face must have mirrored Damian's. "How's that possible? I still smell that bullshit in the bedroom but not this?"

Damian morphed into his hybrid and inhaled. "
Faint
." His voice deeper, gruffer. "
Not enough to follow
." He dropped the button into Raoul's hand and returned to his normal size. "
It has to be whatever is in that room, it's affected our sense of smell."

"No, not really,"
Raoul said, handing Damian the button and returning to the nondescript living room. "
I bet it's more detailed than that because I smell the rotted food in the garbage, the sour milk left on the counter. But what I no longer smell..."

"That bitch,
" Damian said, realizing what Raoul said was true. "
That stuff wiped away her scent
."

Raoul nodded and stared at the closed door which hid the offensive smell. "
Question is why
?"  More animated than he'd been in a while, he looked at Damian, "
Why would she risk it?"

"We were in the woods, what did she risk
?" Damian asked as he secured the button into a plastic pouch for safekeeping.

"
How did she know that? She's not wolf."

Damian thought about it and agreed with Raoul. "
Good point. She took a calculated risk and beat the odds. First she's at the hospital and now here in Height's home. What's her connection to all of this?"

"Why is Sheila Height the only female to contract the itch?
" Raoul asked, walking toward the exit.
"The answers may be connected."

"Because the human came to Sheila's house?
" Damian asked, following behind him and closing the door.

"
More because she doesn't want us to recognize her by scent, which means she knows we can."

"She knows we're wolves."
Damian said, picking up the train of Raoul's thoughts. That wasn't good, not by a long shot.