Pack Dynamics (7 page)

Alex felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest, one he didn’t even know he’d been carrying, and he sagged against the doorframe. “Good. That’s real good.” He closed his eyes and blew a breath out. “Thanks, Docs. Jeremy, you too. Bonuses all around. Coffee upstairs.”

“We don’t do this for the money,” Jeremy said. “Or that rat crap you call coffee.”

“I know. Bonuses anyway. Above and beyond the call of duty, all that stuff.” They knew the drill. “See you in a few.” He smiled, toasted them with his cup, and went back to find Janni and give her the news.

O O O

Hans Ostheim flung the handset of his phone across the room, cursing as it shattered against the plasma-screen TV and fur erupted on his back. Alex Jarrett was either very good or very lucky, but either way, two of Ostheim’s valuable employees were dead, along with his nephew.

He snarled and allowed his wolf to come partially out, flexing claws and snapping teeth. Idna walked carefully into the room, supporting herself on various bits of furniture, and put her hand on his arm, not snatching it back as his canines closed around her wrist. “Rough morning, darling?” she asked, stroking his hair with the red-painted, manicured nails on her free hand.

“That bastard Jarrett,” he growled, after releasing her. “Janine and Thomas are dead. So is Deiter.”

“Oh.” She sat down in an opulent chair, chin resting on her knuckles. “What happened?”

“I sent Deiter to Jarrett’s, as our message to back off was ignored. They intercepted some of our memos, just last night.” He put his face in his hand. “Deiter was captured. When I sent people to extract him, they killed all three of them.” His breathing was ragged. “I have to go and identify his body.”

“How … unexpected.”

He stared at her. “You know I love you, but even for a vampire, you can be a cold bitch sometimes, Idna. Unless.…” He rose and tilted her chin up, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, the usual,” she replied.

He clenched his jaw. Her illness made him feel completely helpless, and this was not a feeling he embraced or was used to. They were running out of time.…

She continued. “One of us must look on the situation with dispassion, dear.” She lifted a cool, perfectly groomed eyebrow.

He pounded his fist on the back of her chair. “I raised Deiter as my son! My brother entrusted his safety to me.” On reflection, perhaps they should have wolfed Deiter. It would have made him harder to kill in a situation like this. The boy had balked, and now Hans regretted not pushing the issue.

“And we will avenge his death. In due time.” Idna rose and put her hand on his shoulder. “Priorities, Hans. Once we have what we want, we can go about destroying our enemies.”

Ostheim grunted. “Including Alex Jarrett. Who has become more than just an inconvenience.”

Chapter Five

Ben twitched violently awake with a curse, breathing in short sharp gasps because his chest was on fire from the inside and
deep
breaths weren’t an option. Where…? Bright fluorescent light glared down from above, hurting his eyes.

Shit
.

He wrapped his arms around his head and curled into himself. Wounded, out of ammo, his entire unit dead, dying, or captured, he’d grabbed his M4 by the barrel, blistering hot from firing, to use as a club, prepared to sell his life as dearly as possible. But the insurgents had captured him anyway, hurt people he was responsible for, and now there was a
needle
in the back of his
hand
.…

He didn’t even realize he was repeating “fuck” over and over again until someone gripped his shoulder and a voice said, “Easy, there, ace. You’re all right.”

Different voice than the one he expected; this one spoke English and he recognized it. Not
that
place, then. He relaxed marginally, still shaking. Three breaths. He licked parched lips with a dry tongue. Then, “Alex.”

“Yeah. Bad one? What do you need?”

“Time.” Ben’s throat was raw. “Water?” He couldn’t look at his hand, and kept his eyes squeezed shut. “And would you get this fucking needle the hell out of my hand? God.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Alex removed the IV and taped a cotton ball down, and the shakes gradually stopped. Last time someone had poked Ben with needles, it had been an Afghani insurgent addicting him to heroin as part of some plan or other to get him to tell them all the secrets of the U.S. Military—the secrets that, as a front-line grunt, he wouldn’t know, but try convincing them of that.

Once he was hooked, they’d made him go through withdrawal, cold turkey, before addicting him again. Several cycles of that, and he was wrecked, and “aversion” was a mild word for the way he felt about needles of any kind going anywhere near any of his veins. Or any other place on him.

“Here’s some water.”

Ben opened his eyes to find he was on a hospital bed next to a computer desk in a decidedly not-hospital room. Alex’s mansion? Images from the past few hours filled his head, but he hadn’t been in this room before. It was enormous and high-ceilinged, filled with shelves loaded with all kinds of esoteric lab equipment and bizarre machinery. Computers were scattered everywhere, more than one half-open file cabinet overflowed with paper, and sticky notes of various colors decorated one white board, while two others were covered in formulas Ben couldn’t make head or tail of.

A set of French doors showed him daylight peeking in. The whole place had an air of controlled chaos, and Ben wondered how often Alex slept on the battered brown leather sofa sitting in the middle of the floor with a Navajo-patterned blanket draped over the back of it. Because this, clearly, was Alex’s lab, and Ben was willing to bet he spent more time down here than he did in the whole rest of the house combined.

Ben raised the back of the bed. “No GI Joe jokes.” He sipped from the glass that Alex pressed into his hand.

“I don’t joke about people with Silver Stars. Seriously, man, thanks.”

Ben laid his head back against the pillow and shook it wearily back and forth. “Janni told you?”

“I looked it up.” Alex moved his shoulder in a gesture that might have been a shrug. “I like to know about the people who work for me. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t talk about it.” He closed his eyes again. “Please don’t ask.”

“I get that. Megan’s always after me about stuff like that.” Alex snorted. “‘How do you feel about it, Alex?’ When I’d just as soon forget it happened. Not that I’ve ever done anything like you did, but falling off a cliff is unpleasant enough without people jabbering your ear off.”

Considering the fact that Alex had a hard time keeping his mouth shut about anything whatsoever, Ben thought that statement was somewhat ironic, and his mouth twisted into an involuntary grin. “Everyone else okay?”

“Yeah, they’re all sleeping. Big night.”

Ben huffed, which hurt his chest, and he winced. “You could say that. I’m starving.”

“We’ll get some food here pretty quick.” Alex grabbed a bottle, shook a yellow pill out into his hand, and passed it over.

Ben eyed it for a second before tilting his head and swallowing it down with a gulp of water. “What are you doing up?”

“Someone had to keep an eye on your recovery. I elected myself, since I think I’ve had the most sleep out of anyone. Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

“Breathing hurts. Better than I expected, though.” Hell, he hadn’t really expected to wake up, so actually breathing was a step in the right direction. “How bad?”

Alex’s expression was elaborately casual, which gave Ben all the information he needed. He rubbed at the bandage on his chest and made a face. “How’d Janni react?”

Alex quirked his brow and his lips and tipped his head, silent for once in his life. She’d freaked, then. Awesome.

Ben huffed. “I got into computers so I wouldn’t have to do this shit anymore. Guess it didn’t work.” He changed gears, because dwelling on Afghanistan and anything related to it—such as being shot—sent him down horrible rabbit holes. “I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’ve got a ring already. Just need the right timing.”

Alex grinned, this time. “Really? Congrats, man.”

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “I’d have thought a guy like you’d be, I don’t know, more cynical about the institution.”

“Eh, it worked for my parents. Oh, hi, ladies.”

Janni and Megan had walked into the room, and Ben felt close to panic. What had Janni heard? But she gave him her usual smile, somewhat brittle around the edges, and hopped up onto the bed next to him. She handed him his glasses and entwined her fingers in his.

“Thanks, honey,” he said.

“People are starting to stir, Mr. Jarrett,” Megan said, all efficiency. “Should I send out for food, or do you want me to arrange a chef to come in and cook?”

“Um. What do I have?”

Megan hit an intercom button. “Chambliss, could you check and see what Mr. Jarrett has in his pantry and fridge, please?”

A pause, and Chambliss’s cultured voice filled the room, heavy with irony. “Four boxes of two-year-old macaroni and cheese, five cans of protein and wheat grass powdered mix, a carton of milk he drinks from directly that’s beginning to go off, and three eggs of dubious freshness. And enough Kopi Luwak coffee to choke several cows. Also, every form of alcoholic beverage known to man in the sideboard, with an emphasis on thirty-year-old single-malt scotch, but you knew that already.”

Megan raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Right, then. Since I don’t think anyone else will want to drink something that’s gone through a civet’s digestive tract, let’s have some nice Colombian roast delivered, and order in. Pizza, sandwiches, soft drinks, you know the drill, Chambliss.”

“Indeed, I do, Miss Megan. Shall I make up a grocery list as well?”

“Yes, please. Some of us like to eat like normal human beings.”

“Hey! The protein shakes are nutritious and filling,” Alex protested, gesturing at the half-full glass next to his computer.

“And disgusting.” Megan grimaced. “Honestly, sometimes I think you need a babysitter.”

“That’s what I have you for.” He smirked. “Now, if you’d only dress the part.…”

“In your dreams. Mr. Jarrett.”

“I must admit that this new pajamas-and-T-shirt look you’ve got going is quite fetching.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I’m having some of my suits sent over today.”

“You know, if you’d just move in, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

Ben watched their joust like a spectator at a ping-pong match, hiding a grin, and Janni seemed amused as well. She leaned against him and whispered, “Those two so have a thing for each other.”

“And they don’t even know it,” he whispered back, squeezing her hand. “It’s hilarious.”

“I heard that,” Megan said. “And no, we don’t.”

“We don’t what?” Alex asked.

“Nothing.” Megan looked at Ben, frowning, her nostrils flaring. “Are you all right, Ben?”

“I think so,” he answered. The back of his neck tingled, and the hairs stood on end. “Why?”

Her eyes looked … odd. She shook her head. “I don’t know, no reason, I guess, but then again it’s a natural question since you were shot in the chest a few hours ago, so I was just wondering.” She was babbling, which was really not like her at all.

“It’s sore, but kind of distant. Whatever painkillers they gave me are doing their job. Back itches.” He frowned. “I can already breathe a little easier. Funny.”

“Not so much,” Alex said. “The nanotech is pretty amazing stuff, and Mike’s been doing some remarkable work in that field. He knew to bring the latest and greatest. Well, the latest and greatest he’s tested, anyway.”

“Using Ben as a guinea pig?” Janni asked sharply. “I’m not sure I like that.”

“Actually, we mostly use rabbits, but that’s why I emphasized the ‘tested’ part,” Alex hastened to reassure her. “As in, human tests on volunteers to make sure the stuff works the way it’s supposed to. I’ve always taken my ethics seriously, Janni, and I always will.”

She glared, but backed off. Ben thought she was damn cute when she went all mama bear, especially considering how tiny she was, and he squeezed her hand again.

“You’re really okay?” she said.

“Really. Well. As okay as I ever am.” He closed his eyes, visions of the three people he’d shot flashing across his memory in a spray of blood. “You know.” Deep breaths he couldn’t take because, shit, his lung still hurt, and he wouldn’t get the shakes, he wouldn’t, dammit, but the muscle in his jaw was jumping.…

Janni hugged him and stroked his hair. “I know,” she murmured as he leaned into her. “Shhh.”

Yeah. He was going to ask her to marry him. Sooner rather than later.

O O O

Megan’s nostrils twitched. Something was off about Ben, but she couldn’t quite put a finger—or paw—on it. The fact that the moon would be full in two days wasn’t helping matters, because the wolf was eager and didn’t want to wait, even though she’d let her out earlier. Hell, maybe because she’d let her out earlier.

Over the last seven years, she’d gotten used to being able to smell each individual ingredient in a chocolate chip cookie. Deciphering this scent was proving more difficult. But Ben seemed all right for now, so Megan back-burnered the issue until she could think about it more fully.

Pulling out her phone, she checked and was gratified to note that Alex actually had cancelled his appointments for the day. She was less pleased to see that he’d cleared his schedule for the entire week. This was a little too enterprising, and she shot him a glower, to which he replied with the innocent look he practiced in the mirror. She answered that with an eye-roll, and he smirked.

“Master Alex, luncheon has arrived,” said Chambliss over the intercom. The local pizza and sandwich joint was always lightning-fast when Alex ordered in, because he tipped something like a hundred dollars per delivery.

“Bring it down? Join us if you like.”

“Thank you, sir, I will.”

“Excellent. We have a lot to talk about.”

Over food, Alex told them what he’d uncovered. “It’s weird. I’ve got industrial espionage in an area that Jarrett Biologicals doesn’t actually research, that I know of, which is apparently something else I need to take a closer look at—from a company that doesn’t do nanotech but wants it for this. So I need to dig deeper and figure out exactly who’s doing what and why.”

Megan swallowed a bite of turkey club sandwich. “Give me some names and I’ll see what I can find out.”

“In your phone,” Alex said through a mouthful of pizza.

He
had
been busy, although talking with his mouth full was obviously a habit she’d need to work with him on, she thought with exasperated affection. Even her wolf was relaxed, mostly, although whatever was going on with Ben was still niggling at the back of her mind. Janni was feeding him a slice of pizza. They were awfully cute together, and for a second Megan envied them.

Then she caught up with the conversation going on around her, and it was Alex regaling everyone with one of his favorite African photo safari stories, starring hyenas, and she decided she wouldn’t trade her life for anything.

O O O

Hans slammed the door of his house so hard it bounced off the latch the first time, and he had to turn back and close it carefully. The knob warped under his grip anyway, which no one would blame him for since he’d just gotten home from identifying his nephew’s body.

He stomped over to his sideboard and poured himself a large vodka, regardless of the early hour, banging the bottle back down and glaring around the room. He knocked back about half of it and slumped into his favorite chair. Brooding about what he was going to do to Alex Jarrett.

Idna came in and placed a cool hand on top of his head. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

“Self-defense, they called it.” His teeth lengthened, and his claws extended and retracted. “He was shot with his own rifle—how could that be self-defense?”

The phone rang. “
What
?” he barked into it.

“We’ve … hit a snag,” said the man on the other end—Brandon Kincaid, Mike Reed’s lab assistant. Hadn’t they planned a meeting with Reed today?

They had. Hans sincerely hoped that whatever this “snag” was wouldn’t interfere with that. “Have we.” It wasn’t a question. “Care to enlighten me?”

“The compound has been used on a subject we can’t control.”

“And why is that?” Hans’s voice was dangerously soft.

“I don’t have any details yet. Just … it got used. I haven’t been able to ask him why; my calls are going into voicemail and his office is locked.”

“Find out.” Hans missed the old days when you could slam the receiver down; pushing a button to hang up just didn’t give him the same satisfaction. “I’m surrounded by incompetents.”

Idna had sunk down onto the dark brocade sofa, her hand over her face, breathing heavily, although she didn’t need to breathe at all. Alarmed, Hans leaped to his feet and rushed over to her, dropping to his knees next to the couch. “Idna?”