Her Wolf

Chapter Eleven

Ten minutes after her father and Kendrick Kane left her in a pretend snit, Ashlee felt safe enough to start the first part of her plan. In what little time she’d had to prepare for this nightmare, she had tried to be meticulous and organized. She stuck her hand in her pants pocket and felt for the needle that contained her best hope of success. It was still there.

Her wolf wanted blood, but Ashlee knew it was wise to be prudent and not just assume that all would be better with the witch’s death. They might need the woman. She closed her eyes and let the Aunts’ knowledge flow into her. How did someone pick out a witch from, say, a non-magical person by just looking at them?

Adeline’s voice filled her head.

A witch’s aura is different from the aura of other people. The magic she carries, it alters her. Close your eyes and let your magic open you to the universe. Once you do, you will see auras and you will see hers is different.

Hell. Why couldn’t anything be simple?

A witch will also smell different. She uses many herbs in her potions and spells. Look specifically for valerian; it’s foul-smelling.

Locating valerian was something Ashlee could actually do. Valerian was also found in potpourri; Ashlee had created some one summer at sleep-away camp. It had soothing properties, and when it was mixed with nicer herbs, it picked up the scent of the better-smelling plants.

Ashlee opened the door to the office and was relieved to see no one around. It made sense. Kendrick and Claudius wouldn’t want her father to know about the non-legitimate aspect of their clinic; they would never be able to explain armed guards or mercenaries hanging around the hallways. In less than four hours, her wolf scent would return, so Ashlee needed to hurry.

Lit by fluorescent lights, the hallway outside of the office looked institutional; it reminded Ashlee of the countless hospitals she’d visited when her father dragged her all over the country to see gynecological specialists. She closed her eyes and sniffed. Inside she could feel her wolf become alert. Scents were her wolf’s specialty and Ashlee actually looked forward to letting her flex her whiffing abilities.

To the right she smelled nothing, not even the scent of a rodent. She had the sudden urge to turn around and start sniffing at the walls to see if there were any rodents of any kind she could track—for a moment her wolf acted more like a bloodhound. Ashlee remembered the herbs she’d taken to suppress her wolf smell could make her wolf a little loopy. She shook of the feeling and turned her head to the left to sniff in that direction.

Bingo.

All the living and breathing creatures in the building were in that direction. At least it was a place to start. She walked casually down the hallway. She didn’t want to seem like she didn’t belong there.

She wondered what Tristan would say about this whole arrangement, the inside of this world Kendrick had created. Kendrick ran things here and was treated like an important man, while thirty male wolf shifters waited on an island for someone to explain to them what happened to their world.

In thirty years, they hadn’t even done the Alpha ceremony. Technically, the man who created all of this was still their fearless leader. Ashlee’s breath hitched as her wolf howled in discontent. Ashlee, herself, was pissed as hell and had to settle for clenching her hands into fists to handle the rage.

She sniffed the air again. She smelled people behind the closed office doors. They were just humans, probably bad ones, but not the witch she needed to find. Herbs, she smelled herbs, and they were definitely in the direction she walked. She felt nothing but frustration when she reached the end of the hallway and had not located the witch.

This whole thing would go much better if she could just shift into her wolf form. She pushed that thought away. The last time she’d shifted, she was by herself and would still be there if Tristan hadn’t come and rescued her. So she would not attempt the shift here in the middle of this danger zone, by herself, no matter how much her wolf wanted it.

She looked around. The scent was stronger beneath her, which meant the witch was downstairs. Ashlee considered her options; there was an elevator, but she wouldn’t have too many escape options if she got caught. Or she had the stairs. The stairs it had to be.

She took the stairs two at time, the clicking of her heels as she ran the only sound as she descended one level.

She pushed at the door. It opened easily, making a loud bang as it hit the wall behind it. Ashlee grimaced at the sound. She scanned the room, worried someone had heard the door slam. But no one was about. She sighed in relief and wondered if everyone was hidden because of her father’s visit, or if things at IPAG were always this locked up and quiet.

This hallway was different than the one upstairs. It was darker both in lighting and interior design. The walls were a dark, navy blue color and the lights were not working as perfectly as the ones upstairs. Ashlee guessed they would not be showing her father this portion of the ‘hospital’ on his ‘tour.’ She inhaled the air to see what scents she could catch.

The floor she stood on was polluted with scents, one that certainly belonged to a witch. Ashlee smiled; soon this ordeal would be over.

She walked forward, keeping her nose in the air for extra precaution. The longer she used her scenting ability, the easier and broader it became. She caught her father’s scent off in the distance, reminiscent of cinnamon and peppermint gum. Kendrick, and his sick wolf smell, was with him. At least she knew he was still okay.

Ashlee passed by a series of one-way glass windows. She gasped and covered her mouth to muffle the sound. Twenty men were visible, although there were parts of the room she could not see. They were strapped down to beds and intravenous lines fed a blue liquid into their arms. The steel straps that secured them to the metal tables were attached at the forehead, shoulder blade, hip, and foot area. Three men dressed in white lab coats paced the room. A woman wearing a long lavender skirt and a black tank top moved around the patients.

Ashlee inhaled the bitter, foul smell of the woman. There she was—her witch. But what was she doing to those men?

Tristan felt himself plummet deeper into the water. He couldn’t remember how to swim, and that was okay, because the cool water was what he wanted on his skin. Chilled and placated by the feeling, he no longer felt the urge to kill Ashlee, nor could he hear his father’s voice in his head. He closed his eyes and decided he would stay under the water forever. Somewhere inside of his mind, something stirred to remind him that there was some kind of problem with his plan but he couldn’t seem to make out what that was.

Strong arms, four of them, pulled him towards the surface. He struggled. He didn’t want to return to the top; he could just remain where he was. A third set of hands joined the others. Unable to fight off all three of his tormenters, he finally hit the surface. He opened his eyes to see who had captured him and was surprised to see it was Michael, Rex, and Azriel.

Why hadn’t they just left him alone?

Michael, holding onto his arms, dragged him onto the beach. “Are you out of your mind? Your woman is in Mexico fighting for your life and you decide to commit suicide now, dooming her to half-life or death?”

Tristan roared. No one was to speak of Ashlee to him. He wanted her dead. “I was not trying to kill myself. The cold water drowns out our father’s voice. It makes me want to not kill her. I was just going to stay there permanently.”

Azriel, his eyes gone wolf, growled at him. “Has the spell fried all of your brain?

You cannot breathe under water, Trip. To stay under water would mean death, you imbecile.”

Rex loomed over him. “What do you hear, Trip? Who is controlling you? Who told you to knock out Parker? Why did you burn down our home?”

Tristan snorted. “Our Alpha told me.”

Michael glared at him. “I have told you no such thing, Trip.”

“You are not my Alpha, brother. You do not want the job. You are nothing.”

Rex and Azriel bellowed, the white light forming around them as if they might shift.

“Do I lie, brothers? Could this happen to us with a strong Alpha who controlled and protected his pack? I love our brother, but he is weak, and he has failed us.”

Michael’s eyes were huge as he stared down at Tristan. “I never wanted this job. I am not meant to be Alpha.”

Tristan shook his head. “Then we are all doomed. You should have left me to drown in the water, where at least Ashlee would be safe.”

Kill her.

Tristan shook his head, and his brothers stared at him blankly. “I will not.”

“To whom do you speak, Trip?” Michael stared at him and Tristan didn’t need to read his mind to know that he thought he was crazy.

“My Alpha, my liege, our father.”

Tristan watched as Michael turned to Azriel. “Call Gabriel. Find out if Ash has the witch yet. I don’t think we have much more time.”

Kill her.

Tristan closed his eyes as the slow burn started again, and this time when he screamed, three sets of eyes stared down at him in horror.