She wrinkled her brow. “Just be careful.”
“Will do. Once I eliminate him, I promise to help find human survivors. Which reminds me, can you and Ethan watch Fang for a few weeks?”
“Sure, but who’s going to watch your ass?”
He laughed. His gaze fell on Marla, returning from her car. The werewolf beta waved and approached. They’d had an on and off again sexual relationship. “I thought she joined the Canadian pack?”
“She did for a month but then returned. She’s hot and into you, what’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t feel the mate thing. She deserves somebody who can commit to her.” His cock didn’t give a damn. It bulged against his jeans at the thought of her big tits.
Marla caught up with them. Her scent aroused him to the point of pain. He’d slept with many gorgeous werewolves and plenty of sexy human women but didn’t want to settle down. Ever. Talon insisted he find a mate, but why the big hurry? The drama was just not worth it.
“So how long are you back?”
He avoided staring at her ample cleavage. “I leave at dawn.”
She growled but then smiled. “If you want to come to my den for drinks, I can turn on the hot tub.” She turned to his sister. “You and Ethan are welcome as well.”
Sierra lowered her voice. “Actually, after the packs leave, I plan to formally announce that Ethan and I are expecting.”
Marla smiled. “Awesome. How far along?”
“Only six weeks,” said Sierra.
Dirk dropped his jaw. “What? After three years you guys are… I thought humans and our kind…”
“Relax. Phoenix thinks Ethan has shifter or even witch blood.”
“Has he shown powers besides seducing my sister?”
Sierra shot Dirk a pointed stare. “No, most males don’t. Only females. Actually it’s the mating of an alpha male with a female witch that would create a wizard.”
“That is forbidden by the wolf packs.” Dirk remembered childhood stories of the dragon wizards. Half wolf half-magical dragon that had enslaved shifters.
Sierra bit her lower lip. “That stupid law is archaic and dates back to the early Renaissance.”
Marla chuckled. “Could you imagine the fanatical Benandanti’s reaction to a werewolf with the power of sorcery?”
Sierra smiled. “The Hounds of God’s ultimate nightmare.” She pressed her hand over her stomach as if protecting her unborn child and gaining strength from its very existence. “Still, if our baby is a girl, it’s possible she could inherit the witch gene.”
Was Sierra feeling faint? Dirk’s protective nature went on overdrive and he seized her arm, just in case. “You’re right. Better you not announce it until the Benandanti leave.” His sister and Ethan had discussed either adopting or artificial insemination with wolfen semen. Most packs forbade shifters mating with humans, but with Sierra, Talon had made an exception. Once she marked Ethan as hers, the only other alternative would have been her banishment, never an option with their alpha uncle.
Ronny, an older beta called them. “Meeting is resuming.”
On the stage, King Corax stood to talk. The Ravens had always been their strong allies but after the industrial revolution, they’d led separate lives. They once cornered the human market in mortuaries. Like the time of the Bubonic Plague, today no one bothered with funerals or even hasty burials. At first, the government had used former stadiums as giant burning pyres but after a while, there were just too many zombies to bother.
Corax’s seemingly pupil-less coal black eyes scanned the large conference room. “We’ll help in any way we can to save humans, but at the rate of this disease, we doubt any will be left. Though our own numbers are small, we shall command faunal ravens to locate survivors.”
Questions arose and pockets of discussion, many argumentative, grew louder.
Talon cupped his hands over his mouth and echoed a commanding howl. On his territory, his law reigned supreme and they silenced immediately. “My pack will search for humans with knowledge of the grid, aviation, medicine, science and various other technologies. However, I’ll welcome any human who wishes to live in harmony with our kind.”
A Vircolac pack member protested, “We can’t forget that zombies are attracted to the scent of humans. We won’t risk our lower ranks to zombie attack. Especially our children.”
His comment drew louder discussions. Shifter children remained human until puberty, making them vulnerable to zombie attack.
Talon nodded. “That’s why we must build a strong barrier around our fortress. Zombies cannot climb or reason how to unlock fences. Besides our betas and omegas are still stronger than the average human and have the advantage of immunity against the Bane.”
The raven king continued, “My scouts have reported from Northern Alaska. The zombies freeze in subzero temperatures and we’ve observed the Inuit people lopping off frozen zombie heads. The ghouls are slow and lack coordination other than their immediate need to feed. Find isolated areas that are mountainous and treacherous as a safe haven.”
Talon smiled. “Agreed. We’ll divide territories and slowly conquer back the land from the zombies.”
They nodded their heads in agreement. The alpha pack leaders signed the treaty with a droplet of their blood. Soon after the meeting broke up, everyone left for their guest quarters. Sierra’s frown softened.
“Hey sis, when should I drop off Fang?”
“Anytime, Ethan wakes at the crack of dawn.”
“Cool. I’m going to miss my baby.”
“Don’t worry. Fang will be spoiled rotten.”
Marla whispered to Sierra, “I wish he referred to me as his baby.”
Dirk’s werewolf hearing picked up her comment. He quipped, “And be accused of being a chauvinist? I respect you too much.” He wanted to add, he would miss his Chihuahua more than her, but the last time he’d been honest with a she-werewolf, he’d come close to having his balls clawed off.
Marla raised a seductive brow. “Are we heading to my den?”
His horny wolf said,
Hell yes
. Not so fast. She wanted a commitment. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. The buxom werewolf’s hair was redder than his. He imagined a pack of red-furred wolves and weighed it against the damn apocalypse. No. He wanted what his sister and Ethan had. Their love scent was sweeter than honey. Was it even possible he could ever have that? “Sorry, I promised to visit with Sierra before leaving, especially in light of the
good
news.”
Marla cupped her strong hands firmly about his cheeks and gave him a ravishing kiss. She let go and stood. “You know where to find me when you come back with Jaeger’s head.”
His shaft hardened, but instead of following her, he grabbed a beer. “Rain check.”
Chapter 3
“Dr. Mansfield, the specimen has arrived,” announced a male voice over the intercom.
Dora pressed her face against the glass of her locked room, her heart pounding. Specimen?
Dear God!
Not another zombie. The bite on her thigh was still healing from the last so-called zombie experiment. Fortunately, they’d allowed the zombie to bite only once before grabbing the creature, an adolescent girl who bit her with broken barb wire-like braces. No. Today she sensed it would be different. Actually, she dreamt about a beast. Her mind kept visualizing something big and hairy. A primate?
Great. A gorilla with the virus
.
“Is he sedated?” Mansfield asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Escort Jaeger and his specimen up.”
The elevator alarm buzzed and its light flashed red, a warning of heightened alert. Mansfield and his two guards brought their loaded guns. She bit her lower lip in anticipation. What monster could be worse than a zombie? She retreated a few steps from the glass barrier.
The door opened. She held her breath. Four strapping soldiers and a big stout bald man wheeled an even bigger man strapped to a gurney with what looked like silver body restraints. They brought him into the adjacent room. An IV attached into one manacled thick wrist, as he remained unconscious. Not a monster after all. She stared through the glass barrier. He was dressed like a Goth warrior, complete with long dark leather coat, black jeans and ass stomping black boots. He had flaming red hair and a light reddish blond beard on his ruggedly handsome face. Fastened around his neck was a weird silver electronic collar. Strange. Had they invented a device to control zombies? They certainly feared this man. Why else would he be unconscious and restrained to the max? She’d seen big zombies, but once this one reanimated, nobody would escape his thick-fisted grip.
This time her vision was wrong. The
specimen
wasn’t a hairy beast, but perhaps a dangerous gang leader or escaped criminal. Escape from where? Why bother with prisons when killers roamed the earth?
Dora frowned. “Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to bring an infected thug here?” Mansfield said that after martial law had failed, gangs of marauding armed men roamed the country. Seeing the lab thrashed by a fierce outlaw would be entertaining. That is, if the zombie didn’t break into her sealed room. Maybe she could escape before he turned.
Dora knew the access code. If she could reach a weapon, she might be able to shoot her way out. It was not difficult to outsmart a zombie, even former PhDs. Okay, minor detail: she’d never held or even shot a gun. Watching cop shows on television provided some guidance. Nonetheless, a shot to the brain was not an easy target, especially when the dead move unpredictably. “I’m good at taking bullets out, not putting them in,”
she’d told her police officer brother-in-law, Victor when he had offered to teach her how to shoot.
Mansfield ignored her and turned to the big bald man dressed like a crocodile hunter. He was armed as if the reptiles would fire back. Maybe they had. The right side of his face, scarred with two long silvery claw marks from the top of his skull to his cheek, caused his eye to partially shut. Only a grizzly bear or big cat could leave such scars. Mansfield shook his hand. “At last we meet, Jaeger. How long will he remain unconscious?”
Hmm. So the croc hunter had a name. Dora returned her gaze to the collared man. His skin appeared healthy. Could he be immune? One of the soldiers handed a black case to Mansfield.
“A creature his size, I’d say another hour at best.” The crocodile hunter handed him five vials containing blue fluid. “There’s more in the case.” He loaded a dart gun with a vial. “One shot is all you’ll get. It takes about thirty seconds to knock him out, so make sure you’re behind a protected barrier. Anywhere on the body should work. He’s one of the stronger beasts I’ve run across. We’re lucky he fell into our trap. The son of a bitch’s been stalking me for weeks.”
Stalking? She gave the
specimen
another glance. He looked like he could kick major ass but he was no creature or beast. She glanced at the vial and combed through all her mental libraries of methylene blue-like solutions. Was it a new zombie tranquilizer?
The men lifted him off the gurney and flopped him onto the large bed; at least she thought it was large until he landed on it. They should have ordered a king size bed for him. The man would definitely need to be sedated if they expected to poke and prod him as she’d been for nearly a month.
Cowards.
Mansfield barked. “Quick, strip him to his briefs.” His men speedily went into action.
He turned to his assistant.
“Stebbins, draw two cc’s of blood and check his vitals.”
Dora watched in fascination, as he was un-manacled and stripped to only his briefs and the slave-like collar around his throat.
Wow. Talk about eye candy. He was ripped. The hulky dude with blazing red hair looked like the cover of her romance novel. How ironic, when she blew out her birthday candles, she’d wished for a hot boyfriend with the looks of the cover model on her cheesy novel. Her eyes widened.
I’d say better than the cover model.
His broad muscular shoulders and chest were hotter than hell. Every inch of him from his six-pack abs, bunched biceps, to his thick muscular thighs and legs. She’d examined many athletes from football stars to guys on steroids but good God, no one this fit. Yes, he was a specimen, a specimen of perfect male musculature. The soft reddish hair on his powerful chest matched his beard growth. She could only imagine the color of…
“Like what you see?” Mansfield shot her a creepy grin.
She flinched. “In case you forgot, I’m a doctor.” She blushed and spoke in her best analytical tone, “I’m somewhat relieved to see he doesn’t have early signs of Z-phage. No recent bite marks.” Curious. There were three long silver claw-like marks on the side of his right ribs. Not zombie. Maybe an old bear scar or even lion. Similar to the one on Jaeger’s face.
Stebbins, Mansfield’s assistant, tied the rubber tourniquet around a bright blue prominent vein. Despite the fact the man was out cold and couldn’t make a fist, his blood gushed into the test tube and Stebbins quickly grabbed a second tube to fill another sample. The man’s breathing was steady. Definitely, free of Z-phage. “His skin tone looks unaffected and he appears to be in the vigor of health.” She thought of an athlete in his prime, set to compete in the Olympics. Or rather, more like a god from Mt. Olympus.
Mansfield sneered at her. “He’s immune, but unlike you, we hope his blood serum will give us a cure.”
“Jeez, I don’t feel special anymore,” Dora snapped. The last three brought in supposedly immune, turned days later. All along, she knew they were infected but for whatever reasons it took them longer to turn zombie. This one was different.
Jaeger cut a sharp look at her. “Have you found any more like her?”
She squirmed. Crap.
Quit staring at me, like I’m another freakin’ specimen.
“No.” Mansfield glanced at the knocked-out patient. “She’s immune but not super human, not like this one.”
Dora glanced at the unconscious, except for his briefs, naked hunk. “Okay, so the guy is muscular but he won’t last long surrounded by a swarm.”