Logan's Acadian Wolves (44 page)

The door flew open and a tall, good-looking vampire entered the room. She knew him…Yes, the man from the boat. Her mind swam with possibilities. No, she’d met him before…at the club…with Léopold. Shocked, Wynter tried to run but Fiona easily stepped in front of her and shoved her to the ground.

“You…you…how could you? And Fiona…Logan’s going to kill you.” Wynter heaved in a deep breath. On all fours, she looked up to the vampire.

“She really is naïve, isn’t she?” Fiona merely laughed.

“You and Phillip shouldn’t have hurt her. Just look at what you’ve done, Mistress. You cannot treat her this way if she’s going to work for me.” The vampire shot Fiona a nasty look, clearly not pleased.

“Work for you? Are you kidding me? Why would ViroSun be involved with something like this? Who are you?” Wynter laughed and cried at the same time. She rolled onto her bottom, unable to stand.

“Dear scientifique, one question at a time. May I?” He retrieved a crisp handkerchief from his suit pocket and attempted to give it to Wynter. She brushed him away.

“Very well then,” he sniffed. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? My name’s Étienne. Étienne St. Claire, son of Kade Issacson sired by Léopold Devereoux. And as my Mistress has introduced, I am the Directeur.”

He paced, letting his hands speak flamboyantly into the air.

“However, there is one small discrepancy you should know…you see, we are not ViroSun nor have we ever been. True, though they exist, we forged the necessary documentation to make you believe you were working for them.”

“No, I went to the interview. The building, the stationery…I interviewed with them. I met with people. This isn’t possible.” Wynter shook her head in confusion.

“Ah well, all fake I’m afraid. A necessary expense to make you believe you were going to work for them. You were so eager to find a cure for your friend.”

“But how did you know?”

“I travel to New York quite often. And lucky for me, I’d attended one of your speaking engagements. I found it quite captivating…the notion that someone, a supernatural, could be infected with a feline virus. She’s a lovely speaker,” he told Fiona, who rolled her eyes and pretended to look at her nails. “It didn’t take long to find your ‘Jane Doe’. Emma’s medical records and her blood were easy enough to get at the hospital. I can be very convincing.”

“But I’d been working…the lab. There were others with me,” Wynter countered.

“Were there? We kept you isolated. Do you recall ever meeting anyone after you insisted on leaving?”

Speechless, Wynter closed her eyes. Like a great illusion, the curtain was revealed and she, the fool, was left the victim of a great hoax. How could this happen? She’d researched the company. The high pressure interview had been held in one of the most conspicuous midtown skyscrapers. They’d done intensive background checks, interviewed her friends, Jax.

“My scientifique, are you listening?”

“Stop calling me that!” Wynter cried.

“But you are so special,” he insisted, trailing a long finger over her hair. “Really, darling, did you think you’d stay away from me so long? The Mistress, she’s powerful, but I admit, I’ve crushed on you like a school boy.”

“True,” Fiona spat out in disgust. Her forehead furrowed. “He’s quite obsessed. Too much so.”

“But I digress. You see, Fiona and I, we knew each other from New Orleans. She’s quite the devious little witch, but not so strong. Power doesn’t come easily in the wolf pack…brawn over brains and such. And for me, let’s say it’s tedious being at Kade’s beck and call. But this virus, if it could be used on wolves, well, one can easily extrapolate…vampires could be next.”

Wynter shook uncontrollably and rubbed at her eyes. She felt her limbs grow cold. Was he insane? There was no way an animal virus could be transferred to vampires.

“I know what you’re thinking. Little Emma’s illness is a random mutation…it couldn’t possible affect vampires. But the mutation is just a spark we need to turn our discovery into a blazing success. We need to think big…research new ways of modifying the genetic structure of those who are invincible. And as we’ve proven, even a human can be changed.”

“What did you do…my cells? I have to know,” Wynter pleaded, her voice barely audible. She stared into his cold black orbs. “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Now, now. No need to be nasty. You should be grateful for what I’ve done to you. I’ve given you a gift.” He smiled proudly.

“Grateful, are you fucking kidding?” Wynter coughed, nervously pulling at her own hair. She felt as if she was the one going insane. How could this be happening?

“I told you, darling. I’m a scientist. I’ve been playing with genetic material for many years. It’s not exactly new technology. The humans have been tampering with their food supply for a while now, developing genetically modified crops and such. They’re resistant to weeds, insects and so forth. They’ve even successfully developed animal organs for potential transplants. What I did to you was slightly more complicated, but in the same vein. The micro-injection of the recombinant DNA was quite easy once my vampires had you subdued. Really, no pain involved. Of course, unlike humans, ethics don’t impede my experiments. No, my dear, this…your genetic transformation was my creation and mine alone…although I must thank Fiona for her genetic contribution. She’s quite the sport. In the end, you’ve turned into a fabulously strong transgenic being, don’t you agree?”

Unable to keep the bile down, Wynter turned her head to the side. The contents of her stomach spewed onto the floor and she coughed, wiping her mouth. Hearing the horrific details of what he’d done confirmed her suspicions. Forever altered, her genetic structure had been modified to wolf. She’d been an experiment, nothing more, nothing less.

“And I must say that my theory proved correct. Your blood cures the very virus that afflicts the hybrid. But I still do have one small problem. I’ve been working on it, of course, and am so very close, but I need to be able to transfer the virus to a pure wolf. For whatever reason, the random mutation isn’t strong enough to transfer. And that my darling is why I need you.”

“Me? My blood?” Wynter whispered.

“Well, of course we need your blood. And lots of it. But I need your mind, darling. With you at my side, doing research, we can make history together,” he explained, taking a seat.

“Are you crazy? I told you I don’t know anything. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she snapped.

Étienne growled. Snagging Wynter by the arms, he hoisted her so far off the floor her toes scraped the boards. He held her at eye level, mere inches from his face. “You will do this. Or have you forgotten what used to happen when you refused? Perhaps you need a refresher,” he sneered, baring his fangs. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited. I won’t be denied.”

Without another word, Étienne pulled Wynter against his body and sliced his teeth into her neck.

Blinding, searing white hot pain speared down into Wynter’s body. Not only had he taken her blood, it felt as if he’d stolen the very essence of her vitality. Optimism. Hope. Love. It had all been siphoned away by the monster draining her life force. Her pale lips parted in a silent scream yet the sound was lost in her chest. Wynter squeezed her eyes tight, her fingers digging into his arms in a futile effort to dislodge him. Like a rag doll hung on a hook, she could not shake free. The noose tightened around her neck, and she fought for air. Cloaked in evil, she prayed to God to take her soul.

Fiona whacked a chair over Étienne’s back, causing him to release Wynter. As he raised a hand to strike Fiona, she held a sharp shard of wood to his back.

“You fool,” she accused. “We need her blood for testing, for the antidote, and you can’t control yourself for five fucking minutes. This is why you need me. You’ve got no discipline.”

As if scolded by his mother, Étienne stepped away from them both and lowered his head. “But of course, Mistress. My apologies. She tempts me so.”

“Touch her again and I’ll stake you and that monstrosity you’ve created. Do you think I need you? This…all of this,” she continued, looking around the room as if talking about a magical place, “is my doing. I found you, not the other way around. I came up with this plan, not you. And you are not going to fuck it up, do you hear me? Now stop screwing around with her, get her to the computer. We’ve got maybe three hours before Logan tracks us down, and I want to get out of here.”

“Your blood, Dr. Ryan. So wild and pungent.” Étienne glanced to Wynter who lay sobbing on the floor. “I do think that genetic modification upped your platelet count, because I feel energized.”

“Would you stop pontificating and get her working?” Fiona implored.

“Get up,” Étienne coerced, yanking Wynter by her arm. He dragged her across the floor to a small table, picked her up and righted her in the chair. Noticing her neck was still bleeding, he stole a glance at Fiona before dragging his tongue over the wound. He licked his lips. “See, I’m quite in control now.”

“If you drink from her while I’m gone, you’re dead,” Fiona warned. “Keep it up and I’ll leave you out here by yourself. Logan and the pack will tear you apart, do you understand? I’m the only one who knows how to get out of here. Get the data and then we’re leaving.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Étienne capitulated. He gave Wynter a slap to her face and flipped open a laptop. “Wake up, scientifique. Time to work. Whatever you’ve worked on this past week, I want the information recorded now. Blood to virus ratios for the cure, viral portability, everything. The Mistress won’t allow me another taste of your delectable blood but she didn’t say anything about torture.”

“That’s better. You’re a good boy,” Fiona praised. She reached up to smooth over Étienne’s hair. “Now, I have to go outside to check the boat. And Phillip too. I’ll untie him now.”

Satisfied with his obedience, Fiona smiled to herself. As the door to the cabin slammed behind her, she eyed Phillip, Étienne’s child, who sat tied to a cypress tree, the silver cord bound around his neck so tightly that he could no longer speak. The acrid odor of burnt flesh lingered in the air. She smiled, picking a few splinters from the fragmented stake she’d created from the broken chair. Phillip’s wide-eyed stare bled red streaks down his face. Fiona knelt before him, careful not to soil her skirt.

Phillip had served his purpose on the boat. Pity that he had to die, considering his spectacular performance. As Fiona had suspected, Wynter had bought their orchestrated farce hook, line and sinker. Of course the woman on the deck had been dead. Thankfully, Phillip had left enough blood dripping to make it look believable. Like a well-honed speaker, he’d given his oration and convinced Wynter to give herself up to save Fiona. Bleeding-hearted humans. Fiona had seen the look of guilt plastered across Wynter’s face at the funeral. Logan, on the other hand, was about to leave her. As suspected, he’d choose his mate over her, a purebred wolf; all the more reason why he shouldn’t be Alpha.

But she’d never be Alpha of Acadian Wolves as long as the ancient ways ruled pack law. She wasn’t strong enough to challenge most females, let alone a male. Even her father, a virile male, hadn’t been able to subjugate Marcel. Death had been his sentence for the challenge. Her plan had merely started out as revenge for her father’s death. Convincing Calvin, Marcel’s beta, that he was deserving of Alpha took little effort. Stroking his ego, planting the seed of his dream to rule the Acadian pack was ridiculously easy. She could have easily played alpha female to Calvin. But no, no, no. Unexpectedly, Logan had intervened, killing Calvin, and her only chance of ruling the pack.

Despite the mishap, her alternate plan, dominating the vampire, turned out to be quite ingenious. She’d met Étienne years before, allowing him to fuck and feed from her. When he’d told her of the story of the sick wolf, her idea struck like lightning. If she could control the virus and the antidote, she’d control the pack. Étienne, tired of being Kade’s lackey, sought the same goal: power. He fancied himself a scientist of great aptitude and aspired to be known throughout history. She played up his fantasy, all the while directing his actions.

Her only mistake had been relying on Étienne to isolate the virus, to turn it into a weapon. Even Wynter had failed to produce the virus in a way it could be injected, swallowed or otherwise used to infect another wolf. But this minor setback didn’t deter Fiona. As she’d pored through the volumes of genetic and viral research, she believed it was just a matter of time before a researcher made the discovery. No longer convinced that person was Wynter, she planned to kill her after they got the information she’d gleaned about the antidote. They’d drain Wynter, taking her blood for future research.

Étienne’s fascination with the girl had grown dangerous. There was no way Fiona could leave the wolf alive. Logan would never stop searching for his mate. Even if he didn’t go after them, dragging Wynter through the swamp wasn’t an option. A timely escape was paramount. Afterwards, they’d bide their time, review the data, acquire a new scientist and weaponize the virus. Once she had it ready, she’d attack Logan. Then she’d return to take over the pack.

Lost in her thoughts, she eyed Phillip with faux sympathy. Deep in her chest, she tried to conjure empathy but it didn’t come. She knew she should care about his fate, but she simply didn’t. Apathy had been the beauty of her strategic plan. All of the killing, and she felt no regret. She supposed the closest she’d felt to guilt was when she’d ordered Dana’s death. At the funeral, she’d been a terrific actress, all the while unable to feel anything at all. It had been necessary to kill her. She couldn’t have allowed her hybrid half-sister to reveal the results from Wynter’s blood tests.

Over the past week, she’d made Étienne kill every single one of the vampires he’d created. She scoffed as the bound bloodsucker whimpered at her feet. Poor Étienne, the fool that he was, believed that he could bring the pink-shirted vampire with them. Of all the children he’d recklessly created, she supposed Phillip had been the most useful one of the bunch. Thankfully, Étienne had believed her lie that he could keep his treasured creature. He would have fought her on the decision to kill him. But they needed to move like the wind. It would be hard enough to escape with the two of them. Fiona thought that she almost felt a tiny shred of compassion as she drove the stake deep into Phillip’s black heart. But as he turned to ash, she shrugged. She clapped the dust off her hands and smiled, glad to have felt nothing at all.