Silence of the Wolves Read online

  ‘That the alley?’ Dax muttered.

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Time?’

  ‘About 9 p.m., Thursday last week.’

  The grainy image did an awkward rewind, as Dax forced the thing backwards.

  ‘It’s the Council’s security footage; I’ve just downloaded the files for the last month for this camera and the surrounding ones.’

  ‘Damn, that was fast.’ Leyth grinned as Dax hit play and he watched the alleyway in its quiet stillness. After a few minutes, a grainy image of a man dressed in black staggered into view. And yup, there, being dragged by her hair, kicking and screaming up a storm, was a very blurry Alison.

  Leyth’s mouth went dry as anger washed through him; he was such a moron for leaving her.

  ‘I’m going to get you some supplies,’ Dax growled, stalking out of the room.

  Christ, the anger radiating from that wolf was so damn strong it practically scorched Leyth’s skin. Mind he, like every other wolf in this pack, was going to be furious that Alison had been taken. A male in fear for a pack female’s life was a dangerous thing, though with Dax it was a little different. He wasn’t just furious. He was worried and scared.

  ‘Here, put these on,’ Dax growled as he came back into the main room, handing Leyth two little black pins.

  ‘What the—?’

  ‘Oh come on. You’ve seen micro coms before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Er, I can’t say I have, no!’

  Dax bent Leyth’s head down and pushed the pin just inside his ear; the cool metal slid in easily, making Leyth curse at the sting of pain.

  ‘Shut up, you baby. Open your mouth,’ Dax snapped, picking up the second pin. Leyth complied, opening his mouth as Dax slid the little pin into his cheek at the back of his mouth.

  Dax swung himself back down onto the big leather chair. He held a hand up at Leyth as he slid a headset on and spoke into the mic: ‘Test.’ He said the word so quietly, it was barely a whisper across his lips, but the word reverberated through Leyth’s eardrums. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Ahhh, man, not so loud!’ Dax snapped, slapping a hand over his ear and fiddling with various dials.

  ‘How’s that?’ he asked. The words came out of his mouth but seemed to echo straight into Leyth’s skull.

  ‘Um, yeah?’

  ‘OK.’ Dax’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘The com in your ear is a mini-speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything I say. The one in your mouth is a microphone, so I’ll be able to hear everything you say.’

  Leyth nodded.

  ‘These are for Carl, and the djinn,’ Dax continued, handing Leyth a little bag with more pins in it. ‘And this…’ he said, snapping out what looked like a miniature metal gun and thrusting it into the back of Leyth’s neck, ‘is a GPS chip.’

  ‘Ahhh! Fuck!’ Leyth hissed, rubbing at the sore pinprick on the back of his neck.

  ‘I’ve been trying to convince Julian to use them for ages… It seems you, my man, are our first test subject,’ Dax explained.

  ‘Could have warned me first,’ Leyth grumbled, trying desperately not to think about the implications of Dax knowing exactly where he was at all times. At all times.

  ‘There are three more chips in this, and here are some spare needles.’ Dax handed Leyth the metal gun and a small padded bag,

  ‘For Carl and the djinn?’

  ‘Yup. I’ll set a monitoring system in Julian’s office so he can keep track of you, and I’ll be wearing micro coms and have my portable system with me while we go hunting for a live tomb.’ Dax grinned, an expression that was quickly wiped away as an almighty scream echoed out through the room.

  They both fell instantly into a defensive pose; Leyth’s palm twitching to release his bolo, Dax’s eyes scanning the area.

  They quickly realised that the scream was coming from the speakers surrounding them. The noise was a recording from the CCTV footage. The two of them eyed the screen just in time to see the grainy image of Leyth bolting out of the little gap between the buildings, Tamriel’s pale, limp body slumped over his shoulder.

  ‘Goddamn,’ Leyth cursed. ‘I can’t believe I left her there.’

  Dax grunted and slapped a hand on Leyth’s shoulder. ‘Tamriel looked dead, man. Anyone would have done the same thing.’

  There was no more action on the screen. Leyth and Dax stood silently, watching, not daring to breathe. Abruptly, four men dressed in black shot around the corner and ran into the alley.

  The first man had a headless black-clothed body, wrapped in clear plastic, flopped over his shoulder, the next was carrying the head like a football under one arm, also covered in plastic.

  The last two carried an unconscious, bleeding Alison. The group of them sprinted off down the road, towards the abandoned buildings to the east of Folkestone.

  Only a heartbeat later, a van Leyth and Dax both recognised as Carl’s swung to a halt on the roadside next to the alley. Carl’s spindly body shot out, followed quickly by Sapphire.

  Several seconds later, they reappeared; Sapphire barking something into her phone, Carl cursing and throwing punches at the wall beside him.

  Leyth and Dax stood, just staring at the screen for a moment.

  ‘Crap. I gotta go find her,’ Leyth growled.

  ‘Hell yeah, you do,’ Dax grunted. For just a second, Leyth could have sworn there were tears sparkling in his eyes.

  ‘Keep me updated. Shout for me if you need anything,’ Dax barked, ushering Leyth out of his house.

  ‘Will do, man,’ Leyth shouted over his shoulder as he ran back to the mansion’s gravelled driveway to find his car. The battered old Jeep might not be as fast as his bike, but they would need it if they had to transport any wounded back to the clinic.

  A shiver ran up Leyth’s spine at the thought of his pack, his brothers, getting hurt in the cross fire, but then fighting was such a huge part of their lives that it was inevitable that injuries would happen.

  He cursed the damn Circle for the violence and destruction they had wrought.

  Tamriel woke to the sound of whimpering. Who was that? She tried to crack an eyelid, but it just wouldn’t open. Rubbing a hand across her face, she found something crusted across her skin, cementing her eyes shut. Pawing at the stuff, it came away easily.

  When she finally managed to get her eyes open, it took a second for things to focus; her eyes adjusting slowly to the pitch-black room she was in.

  Dried blood crusted against her face, making her hair stick to her forehead. Tam shoved the cold and sweaty strands away, absently wishing that she had a hairband to tie it back with.

  The room was cold and damp, the musky scent of mould hung in the air along with something else. It smelt, tasted, bitter. Bile rose in her throat as she realised that the sticky, bitter scent invading her senses was fear.

  When moving, Tam had to grit her teeth against the pain shooting up from her stomach. The damn wound was nearly healed, but that didn’t do much against the roaring pain she encountered every time she moved. She found she was sat on a dirty, broken mattress; the thing creaked as she shifted, broken springs digging onto her skin. Her aching body was cold; the chill of the room seeped through her flesh to her very core. At least whoever had taken her had the damn courtesy to put her on a mattress, even if it was an old broken one. It smelt like sweat, blood and sex.

  Urgh. She leapt off it, wiping her hands on her jeans as if they were infected. Her feet hit the cold stone floor as she backed right up against a wall. The brick was wet; cold water met her fingertips and soaked through her clothes. Dripping, she could hear dripping. Where the hell was she?

  Memories of getting clocked by something hard in the street came slowly back to her. A zombie with black eyes. She’d been taken by a tuhrned. Cursing herself for sending Leyth away and for not listening to him, Tam strained her eyes into the darkness. She had to get out of here. But, hell, she couldn’t see a thing.

  The tiniest slither of light was creeping in from the
other side of the room. It looked like a crack in the wall, perhaps? Not wanting to move or make noise, Tam focused on the light, letting it wash over her senses. A sharp, prickling pain started to itch at the back of her eyes.

  Abruptly, an image of the red wolf from her dream came to mind. Tam wanted to push the distraction away and concentrate, but the wolf was so comforting. In her mind she looked it in the eye, memorising each feature.

  Blinding heat soared from her core, washing over her. She embraced it, trying to chase away the chill that had settled into her bones. The pain behind her eyes became more acute. She shut her lids, trying to push it away but to no avail; her eyeballs felt like they were moving, writhing beneath her lids. She gritted her teeth and bared through the worst of it.

  After several deep breaths, the pain and the roaring heat began to subside. After what seemed like decades, she opened her eyes.

  Crikey, she could see everything. Cracked brick walls surrounded the tiny room she was in, the floor was cold, grey stone and yup, by her feet was a tiny single mattress, soaked in blood.

  On the far side, there was a heavy wooden door. Why her vision had suddenly become so accurate she had no idea. She had always had better vision than most, but the room was frigging pitch black. What had changed?

  Changed… Ever heard of werewolves, Tamriel?

  Doc’s heavy accented tones reverberated through her. Nope, all still human.

  Tam did a quick pat down of the rest of her body. Her bare feet were cold on the wet stone floor, but she was thankful they’d left the rest of her clothes on her. Her jacket and Leyth’s knives were gone, as were her house keys. But they obviously hadn’t found the knife that was stashed in her bra. She guessed she had to be thankful for small mercies.

  Quiet whimpering cut through the silence once more.

  Tam grabbed at the knife and walked, being careful not to make any noise, over to the door. Pressing an ear lightly to the wooden surface, she did her best to ignore the throbbing headache thundering through her brain and held her breath, listening intently. Silence met her.

  Other than the quiet whimpering in the distance, there were no footsteps, no talking or hushed whispers. Though that didn’t reassure her. She didn’t know how thick the door was or what it led to.

  Sternly telling herself to grow a pair, she unclipped the knife’s blade and slid it down the crease where the door met the wall. As the knife clipped the catch, it made a quiet clang. Tam tensed, holding her breath, reaching out with every sense she had and hoping like hell no one had heard the noise.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, she relaxed back into it, thrusting the knife carefully against the metal catch once again, trying to angle the point of the blade. After several painstaking minutes, the lock jolted backwards with a loud clunk, making her flinch.

  Someone must have heard that.

  Don’t wait to be found, she told herself.

  Moving quickly, she hauled the door open and slipped through, closing it carefully behind herself. Keeping to the edge of the damp brick wall, Tam crept down the small hallway.

  It stank to the high heavens, forcing her to take short, shallow breaths, trying her best to stop the pungent scent of old stagnant water, waste and the underlying terrifying scents of fear, the coppery twang of blood, and the undeniable smell of sex. She had absolutely no doubt that any sexual encounters that happened in this disgusting cold place hadn’t been between lovers, likely hadn’t even been consensual. She closed her eyes briefly against the thought, pushing the anger and sorrow for whoever had been involved away.

  Footsteps echoed in the distance, bringing her crashing back to the here and now.

  She needed to be alert; she needed her mind on the task at hand if she was going to get out of here.

  The grimy corridor was horribly dark and wet. The brick walls pulled at her T-shirt, soaking through to her body and grazing her skin as she crept along. Tam found herself wishing like hell she could find a way to keep herself from sight. Something slithered its way past her arm, tugging at her. She grabbed at whatever it was, frantically trying to pull herself free, but it felt like wind against her fingertips. Stopping in her tracks, she glanced down at her arm and couldn’t see what it was for the life of her. Her shoulder disappeared into the darkness. She felt a slight pull as her hand slipped into the darkness, hitting skin shortly after.

  Abruptly, the memory of Leyth appearing on her windowsill hit her. She let her fingers slip from her arm until she could feel the light tension of the air above it; wrapping her fingers around the whisper of tension she lightly tugged it towards her stomach, and around her shoulder, allowing herself to sink slowly into the darkness. As her body slid into the gloom, her skin quickly disappeared into the blackness of the shadows, hiding behind it. The footsteps quickly got louder; thundering towards her. The heavy sound bouncing off the surrounding walls, assaulting her senses with the clatter of foot against stone, the scent of death wrapping around her, as fear curled its way around her. The feeling of impending danger hit her like a tonne of bricks. She shoved the tight ball of fear away, telling it to take a back seat.

  Tugging at the darkness around her, Tam allowed herself to sink further into it, biting back a silent curse as her skin was cloaked in shadows, making her invisible. Tamriel stood frozen to the spot as a gaunt, pale looking man raged around the corner. His pale, flaking skin looked almost blue in the dim lighting from the bare bulbs hanging above her head and his bones stuck out of his skin at sharp angles, making him look like he’d been starved for months. His almost-skeletal face framed eyes that were black as the night. They held no trace of life what so ever. Shit, this man was creepy. She could smell putrid death as he came within range; as if his flesh was literally rotting from his bones. As the zombie stalked past her, she couldn’t move, fear holding her in place.

  He walked up to one of the wooden doors lining the walls and brought a set of keys out of his pocket, sliding the thing home.

  He struggled to turn it sideways, thrashing it around before finally there was a quiet click. Slowly, he turned the handle and thrust the door forward, the movement making his body jerk, his arm jarring, his shoulder dislocating itself. With a curse the zombie clasped a bony hand around the joint and cracked it back into place, the effort making his entire body shake, his head rolling back and smacking the wall.

  Tam barely held in the scream as the man’s eye bounced out of its socket, flying its way down to hit his chin. It was still attached but barely by stringy veins, running from the eye, through the socket into his skull. The zombie gripped its loose eyeball and used it to check the hallway behind him, the bloody eye looking over his shoulder, before sliding it back into place with ease. Bile rose. Tam clasped a hand over her mouth to stop from throwing up all over the place as she watched him crack the door, slide inside and slam the rickety thing behind himself.

  Breathing hard, Tam stared at the wooden door. Torn between fear screaming at her to run as far and as fast as she could, and the curious need to go and check the room, to see what the zombified freak was doing.

  Tuhrned, we call them tombs because they’re like the walking dead. Leyth’s voice rumbled its way out of her thoughts, making her ache for him, pain constricting her chest, making it harder to breathe. He really was telling the truth. Why the hell hadn’t she listened to him?!

  Pulling herself together, she inched closer to the door, straining her ears for any sounds that were coming from inside. Harsh breathing.

  ‘Please,’ someone begged. ‘Please don’t.’

  Tam held her breath trying desperately to listen, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat, thumping loud and clear, making her flinch at every thud. Once again, the image of her wolf flooded her mind. She remembered exactly how its ears had looked, black, tipped with graceful red fur.

  Pain hit her hard, her ears ringing with the sudden rip of agony. Tam tried desperately to shove the sensation away; now was not the time. Her hands shot up t
o the side of her head, cupping her ears.

  Holy crap. They were moving, distorting, cracking. The sound of it roared through her head, making her wince.

  You’re a werewolf. Her stomach threatened to hurl at the memory but, hell, things were weird enough already. She had nothing left to lose.

  And honestly? A sharp set of teeth were surely going to help in this situation. Giving herself over to the pain, to the memory of her wolf, she let go.

  The heat pulsating from her core all but engulfed her, overtaking her until all she knew was pain and heat; it was so deadly focused on her ears, she had to bite back a scream as they writhed and shifted on her head.

  Teeth weren’t what she received. As the pain subsided, and the heat rushing from her core boiled down to a minimum, she saw that her hands were still as they’d been before. Very human. Her face was the same as ever, but her ears were no longer where they should be.

  There was nothing but skin in their place and, as she gingerly lifted her fingers, probing the hair on her head, she felt fur; two furry peaks, no, ears! Strutting out from the crown on her head. Tears welled up and threatened to spill from her eyes, making her sight blurry. What was happening to her?!

  Pull yourself together! she snapped at herself sternly. Act first and worry later. Swiping at unwanted tears, she sent her senses out into the open, listening intently. Silence. Then laboured breathing.

  Abruptly a scream thrashed its way out of the room briefly, deafening her. Jesus Christ. She rubbed at her poor ears as fresh tears began to prickle her eyes. She had to help whoever was in there.

  Inching forward, the coppery stench of blood hit her nose as surely as if it had slapped her in the face. It was coming from the room.

  With determination heating her veins, Tam crept forward as quickly as she could, keeping the darkness wrapped around herself she reached the door. Following her nose, she fumbled silently with the wood, coming finally to the small crack. Crouching slightly, she peered through it.