Outpack: Rune Wolf, #4

Chapter 1

Infiltrating a corporate office felt a lot like my old gig hunting werewolves. So I knew the drill: Gather intel from a distance, charm the sentry (or in this case, secretary), then greet the boss with that perfect mixture of self-deprecation and awe.

Only this time, the job was more personal. Because somewhere in this building, someone seemed to be tapping into outpack magic in a way that made my matebrand itch beneath my skin.

You can go in now, hun, the leggy blonde told me after a forty-minute heel-cooling session outside the big guy’s office. Based on the gatekeeper’s appearance—gleaming hair, perfectly pressed blouse, and stilettos that could double as weapons—I guessed she had an aging boss trying to reaffirm his waning virility. Which didn’t mean I should underestimate either of their abilities.

Thanks, I replied, heading toward the heavy wooden door of the inner office while checking on my backup. Or rather, on both of my backups.

First I tapped the mic hidden at my throat, knowing Gabi would hear the thump that resulted. Noted, my mentor-turned-enemy-turned-employee murmured through the tiny speaker nestled into my right ear canal. I didn’t trust her, but bringing Gabi along was part and parcel of my new gig as a Council member.

None of the rules, however, said I couldn’t also include a more dependable ally on the sly. In place? I asked Orion silently via our mate bond, feeling the warmth of our connection as I did so.

I’m where you parked me. His deep rumble was only slightly annoyed, the impression of cramped arms and legs plus the chatter and clink of a coffee shop traveling toward me along with his words. Which is too distant to help if Dr. Kingsley turns out to be a territorial werewolf.

Unlikely, I countered even though going in blind wasn’t my favorite MO either. Nothing I could do about that, however, when the organization I was infiltrating had been oddly secretive about both its founder and its objectives. The only information we had came from a drunken employee’s chatter in a bar last week.

Kingsley Enterprises, the employee claimed, was working on something top secret. Its source of energy? A big patch of empty desert that werewolves happened to call the outpack.

You need help with that door? the secretary asked even though there was absolutely nothing confusing about the knob in front of me. Looked like I’d delayed too long.

Nope. I bit my lip, which tended to endear myself to other women while also appealing to executives for an entirely different reason. Nerves.

Then, without further prompting, I turned the knob and stepped through to find that Dr. Kingsley wasn’t even close to what I’d expected.

The boss wasn’t a werewolf—that much, at least, was going according to plan. But she wasn’t a man either. She stood gazing through a window that faced due west, our third-floor elevation high enough that we could see past other buildings and toward what I knew to be outpack but what would look to her like open desert. Her intent interest in the emptiness gave me a moment to replace my faulty assumptions with facts.

Salt-and-pepper hair was twisted up into a no-nonsense bun, not even a single wisp escaping to lie upon a neck that looked tenser than I would have expected given her body’s soft edges. Her white lab coat made her medium height formless, adding to the protective coloration of middle age. And yet, in stark contrast to her forgettable exterior, her gaze when she turned to face me held the same desperate hunger I’d seen in shifter mothers separated from their children during Council raids.

Then I blinked and all I saw was a smart businesswoman. Elspeth Darkhart, she greeted me, using the surname I’d put on my application and had used on multiple other undercover gigs also.

Dr. Kingsley, I answered, holding out one hand for what most humans would have considered the maximum appropriate contact under the circumstances.

Only, Dr. Kingsley eschewed the offered handshake. Instead, she stepped in a little closer and ran one finger across my tattooed forearm. Her touch was clinical and inquisitive all at once.

In response, my entire body quivered, something that shouldn’t have happened due to contact with someone other than my mate. In Orion’s case, the effect would have made sense since the matebrand tattoos on our skin were created by our commitment to each other and were powered by the outpack near which my mate had his home. Dr. Kingsley, in contrast, was a stranger with no obvious relationship to me or the matebrand.

I only realized I’d begun leaning toward her when Orion’s voice erupted in my head. Do you need help? His tone was adamant, as if he’d spoken more than once while I was lost in Dr. Kingsley’s gray eyes.

No.

I hadn’t meant to speak aloud, and the effect of my mistake was immediate. Dr. Kingsley jerked her hand back into her own personal space, wrapping her entire arm around her belly as if to prove she wouldn’t touch me again. I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what came over me…

Lie, her scent reported, the notes of deliberate deception not quite covered up by harsh laboratory antiseptics. And wasn’t that interesting?

Don’t worry about it. I summoned a sparkling smile and settled myself into a love seat by the window. It was time to remember why I’d come here. Let me tell you about the lack of security in your business software.

It’s remarkably easy to talk yourself into a job correcting problems you’ve created. To that end, I’d primed the pump last week by talking Gabi into inserting a backdoor into Kingsley Enterprises’ system. She hadn’t gotten far, but the evidence of her work was obvious, especially after the organization had been made aware of the fact through a taunting email.

To cut a long story short, when I suggested a hands-on interview beefing up the company’s cybersecurity, I wasn’t surprised that Dr. Kingsley readily said yes.

Which meant that ten minutes after meeting the woman in charge, I’d been granted a temporary office of my own in which I could finish the task Gabi had started. The icing on the cake? I didn’t have to maintain a constant stream of patter while I worked since Dr. Kingsley excused herself soon after setting me up.

Unfortunately, the USB drive Gabi had programmed to dig out the organization’s files didn’t do the trick.

Have you inserted the rubber ducky? Gabi demanded in my ear while I was still trying to figure out whether I’d forgotten any of her instructions.

It’s plugged in and the computer is whirring, I replied even as my unofficial backup—Orion—chimed in silently via the mate bond.

Are you sure you’re safe? Dr. Kingsley showed an abnormal interest in the matebrand.

"Our ink is eye-catching," I countered, even though the matebrand chose that moment to writhe beneath my skin again, reaching toward the office where I’d left Dr. Kingsley. Something about her made the outpack magic restless.

I’m not getting anything yet, Gabi said, interrupting my thoughts. I’m going to walk you through checking to make sure the computer is connected to the internet…

Quiet, I interrupted, turning my head so one ear faced the door behind me. Because I’d heard something very faintly, far enough away so non-shifter senses would have missed it. The murmur had been indecipherable while Gabi was speaking, but now I caught the tail end of Dr. Kingsley’s order:

…code red lockdown, she snapped, her formerly gentle voice turned sharp and commanding.

Orion’s tone wasn’t much different when he barked "Get out of there" via our mate bond, his alarm flooding my body.

The computer was still whirring, which meant the thumb drive’s program needed more time to work its magic. But I snatched the USB out anyway, its plastic warm against my skin. Aborting, I warned Gabi, listening to her swear and wanting to do the same as soon as I looked at the door for the first time.

Because Dr. Kingsley, I now realized, must have subtly angled her body to place it between me and the knob, a calculated move I should have noticed. Turned out the room wasn’t only windowless, it also boasted a door that locked from the outside.

I reached the barrier in two long strides, my boots silent on the industrial carpet. I hoped I was wrong, but when I tried to turn the knob I had no luck.

It looked like I wasn’t the only one here who’d considered herself clever. The room I’d been so glad to have to myself a moment earlier had turned into a trap.

Chapter 2

My side of the knob lacked even a keyhole, so there was no way to pick the lock. I could have taken the door off its hinges, but that would have been loud and would have taken time I didn’t have to spare. Or at least so I assumed from Dr. Kingsley’s recent command.

If you abort now, we may get nothing. Gabi’s voice in my ear was harsh. Muscle memory from training under her almost turned my feet back toward the computer.

Almost, but not quite. The decision has been made, I countered, drawing upon my new role as her boss to turn my own voice even harsher than hers had been. Council authority still felt like ill-fitting, borrowed clothing, but Gabi was the one who’d taught me to fake it til I made it. Now, I fiddled with a switch hidden beneath my shirt collar and looped my mate fully into the conversation. Orion, your mic is hot.

Orion? Gabi’s surprise quickly transitioned into fury, her breath hissing through the earpiece as she lost track of her usual measured speech. Just what we need. An alpha werewolf to turn a snafu into a bloodbath. It isn’t Council policy to…

I’m on my way, my mate rumbled, interrupting Gabi mid-rant and soothing my nerves at the same time. ETA ten minutes. In the meantime, let’s get you out of there.

The burst of adrenaline that had struck when I realized the door was locked segued into anticipation. Because Orion and I had practiced this. Well, not unlocking a door specifically, but rather using the matebrand when the two of us weren’t in physical proximity. All it took was a unity of purpose that our frequent separations made me crave.

Now, when I placed my hand on the knob and closed my eyes, it was easy to imagine Orion’s larger palm settling over my fingers, his skin warmer and just a little rougher than mine. The sensation of contact was very real, so much so that I smelled his sweet cactus-flower aroma wafting over my shoulder. The ghost of his heat pressed into my back, his long body dwarfing my own smaller frame.

Pleasure and exhilaration spun through me. Memories of the few blissful moments we’d carved out of our very separate lives to spend together settled into my bones. My experiences and Orion’s experiences were mirror images of each other. Merging, they formed the connection required to tap into outpack magic and wake up the matebrand, our shared power building like static before a storm.

Priming complete, we pushed our request into the tattoos marking our skin, the tattoos Dr. Kingsley had touched with such interest. The runes answered with a tingle, a sparkle of light…

Then something clicked within the doorknob. This time, when I twisted, the door swung open without so much as a creak.

She’s out, Orion informed Gabi, keeping her in the loop even though there was no love lost between the two of them. We both knew that Gabi was using my cell phone to track my exact location within the building, a digital leash that would also let her guide me through a route unlikely to result in physical confrontation. And since I couldn’t risk speaking aloud now that I wasn’t behind a closed door, it was handy that our mate bond allowed Orion to see through my eyes and hear my thoughts.

In other words, my evacuation would require teamwork between two people who hated each other. Turn left, Gabi said, words as sharp as broken glass. She was furious with me for bringing Orion into an operation that was supposed to be confined to the Council. Yet she continued doing her job.

And Orion carried out his role even more perfectly. Elspeth is in a stairwell heading down, he relayed to Gabi, speaking as gently as when he taught pack children how to care for the garden behind his house. He never chastised them, not even when they yanked out vegetables instead of weeds. And that technique worked just as well on Gabi as it did on kids.

Because her tone had turned businesslike again by the time she told me: Go straight across the basement.

The vast space in front of me was unlit now that I’d left the stairwell, but my shifter eyes could make out something large looming in the center. A boiler system, maybe?

I must have paused because Gabi demanded, Keep moving.

So much for the soothing effects of Orion’s voice.

I’m three minutes out, my mate promised, silently this time. Anticipation of being in his presence overrode my curiosity about the maybe-boiler in a way Gabi’s command hadn’t. I pushed through the unguarded door Gabi had told me formed an exit to a little-used corner of the parking lot. Light shocked my eyes and I didn’t wait for the world’s over-exposure to return to normal before breaking into a jog toward my car.

I did, however, slow down long enough to pull my phone out of my pocket with a grimace. Because the device was vibrating in my hand even though I’d set it to silent. Which meant this wasn’t a call but rather a summons.

How close are you? I asked Orion, hating the way my finger slipped the key into my car’s ignition even though I wanted nothing more than to sit here and cool my heels until my mate tore into the parking lot.

But the Council was convening. Ignoring their summons proved impossible when Julius’s demand from weeks ago still thrummed through my dreams:

You will swear on the outpack that your binding to the Council is more than a mere formality. You will leave this clan you think you’re part of and come work with me.

At the time, I’d agreed to his terms in order to save dozens of pack mates’ lives. Now, my body shook with the urge to do as my oath demanded.

Even Orion’s voice, soft inside my mind, couldn’t take my hands off the steering wheel. I’m almost there, he murmured. Sixty seconds.

He was so close. I tried to hold out. Bit the inside of my cheek and hoped the pain would distract me from…

I was driving back to my motel room to attend the upcoming video chat when Orion’s car passed me on the opposite side of the road, heading toward the spot where I’d recently been.

The meeting countdown on my phone was almost at zero by the time I reached the motel lot. I closed the car door with a slam that did nothing to ease my frustration then speed walked toward my room just as the call connected.

A cluster of video-chat boxes popped onto my screen, one per Council member. Julius’s image was pinned at the top, my eyes sticking to his face the same way I used to watch wolves peer at overbearing alphas. The aftereffects of my oath were a doozy. It took an effort to tear my attention away and consider who else was online.

You’re flushed, Julius observed, his ability to read me reminding us both of our history. He’d raised me as a weapon aimed at my own kind. I’d fought so hard to break free of that official capacity before being roped back in against my will.

And yet, it was the near miss with Orion that made my stomach wobbly, prompting me to make excuses that I regretted the moment they left my mouth. Five minutes was insufficient time to extract myself from an important mission…

Save it. Julius’s eyes flicked from side to side, likely assessing the other video-chat boxes. We’re missing a member. Does anyone have information on Montrose?

Even as Julius asked, a final box was already popping into existence. The Council member I’d come to count on for his inability for subterfuge came into view, a smear of something green streaked across the side of his face. Sorry, sorry! I was feeding the baby. Paulie-Bear needs to go down for his nap in ten minutes. Can we keep this brief?

It had been strange the first time I met with the Council long distance. Previously, I’d always been called into their official chamber, complete with rotating stage and brilliant spotlights. There, Council members had seemed high above my mere mortal status, looming shadows with the power of gods. Online, in contrast, their humanity was on full display.

We all have lives, agreed Lindley, his precisely trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache twitching above thin lips as he leaned forward. Couldn’t this wait until our next scheduled meeting?

No. Julius’s single word quieted the chatter. Although there was no formal pecking order within the Council, it was always apparent that he, as their founder, stood at its head. Elspeth, report.

The oath I’d sworn forced my lips open, my own image on the screen in front of me showing the rune that denoted my status as Council member glowing beneath my chin. Neither the oath nor the rune, however, forced me to tell the Council every single detail. I left out Orion’s involvement and my own guesswork about Dr. Kingsley’s interest in the matebrand.

I did,