Bridenapped The Alpha's Choice (4 page)

“But why?” Bruce asked, as they lay on their backs in the grass, looking up at the stars. “Why can’t we go outside the fence?”

“You ask too many questions,” John said. “Mr. Tompkins told us. The humans want to kill us.”

“How come they want to kill us?” Bruce persisted.

“They’re scared of us. You know that. Mr. Tompkins told us. He’s the only one who cares about us. He keeps us here so we’ll be safe.”

Bruce didn’t know very much, but then he only had five winters. John remembered the day he’d arrived, Mr. Tompkins carrying him in a basket, wrapped in a towel, with plastic bottles and cans of milk. He hadn’t bothered with instructions; John and the others knew how to take care of a new cub-baby. They came a few times a year. Most of the time they lived. Sometimes they didn’t, and then they had to bury the baby in the big field. Bruce cried when it happened, and he took flowers and put them on top of where they’d buried the cub.

Mr. Tompkins and his sons Clem and Brax were human. They lived in a house on the property, and went into the human town once a week to bring back supplies for them, to supplement the food they hunted.

Even though he said he wanted them to stay safe, John thought that secretly Mr. Tompkins didn’t like wolf people. His voice was always angry when he talked to them, and he never looked them in the eye. He couldn’t turn into a wolf like they could. Maybe he was jealous.

Sometimes John worried that Bruce might ask too many questions. Mr. Tompkins didn’t like questions, and he and his sons always carried guns with silver bullets. Silver killed wolf-people. Bruce knew that because one time Fergus, the oldest one there, tried to run away, and Mr. Tompkins shot him and he died.

It was for their own good, Mr. Tompkins had explained. If Fergus had escaped, the humans would have found out about them, and they would have sent soldiers to kill them all. John tried not to be sad when he thought about Fergus, but he couldn’t help it. It made a big, empty ache in his chest.

“How come we don’t have mothers like they have in books?” Bruce asked. “I’d like to have a mother.” His tone was wistful.

There were old books in the house they all lived in. They smelled funny and their pages were yellow. Clem had taught the older wolves to read a long time ago, and he’d taught them to count to a hundred, until Mr. Tompkins had told him to stop teaching and taken away most of the books.

But they’d hidden some of the books, and they took them out when Mr. Tompkins wasn’t there. The books told strange stories about another time and another place. A place when humans hadn’t hunted all the wolf-people until they were almost gone. John and the others were the last wolf-people in the world, and if anyone else ever found them, they’d all be killed.

“You’ve got me, right? And the others.”

Maybe they shouldn’t even have those books. It just made them sad. It told them about a world that wasn’t theirs. It made them miss something they’d never have. Families and jobs and houses of their own. They all lived in one big house with rows of bunk beds.

“All the other animals have mothers,” Bruce continued stubbornly, his lower lip sticking out. “The rabbits have mothers. Birds have mothers. I want a mother.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Shhh,” John said frantically. “He’s coming. Don’t cry. He hates crying. He’ll hurt you. Let’s go inside now and I’ll tell you a story.” He scooped Bruce up in his arms and rushed to the big house.

* * * * *

“I’ve seen molasses that moves faster than you,” Craig taunted Jarrod as they slowly circled each other in the grassy field behind the pack’s rec center.

“Slow, am I?” Jarrod lashed out suddenly with his left leg and, in one swift motion, swept Craig’s legs out from underneath him and knocked him on his rear end. Craig landed with a grunt and a thud. One second later, Jarrod was on top of Craig, partially shifted, hands pinning Craig’s arms by his sides, fangs snapping at Craig’s neck.

“Hey, I like you too, but I don’t swing that way.” Craig thrashed and struggled to dislodge Jarrod, but Jarrod just growled, keeping Craig pinned down in the dirt.

“All right, I give, I give!” Craig gasped.

Jarrod rolled off him and leaped to his feet, shifting back. “Call me slow,” he snorted, bending down and brushing dirt off his knees.

Craig scrambled to his feet, laughing. “Hey, man, just doing my job. Getting you riled up. Don’t want to see you getting soft on us.”

Jarrod grinned fiercely. “I’ll show you how soft I am.”

“I’m not sure I like where this is going,” Craig mocked, dancing back out of Jarrod’s reach.

Jarrod was about to lunge forward and ring Craig’s bell when he heard angry male voices, raised in argument, coming from the left side of the rec center. Jarrod growled in annoyance. He loved his morning sparring, he’d been in the zone, and being interrupted irritated the hell out of him.

He stalked around the corner, fists balled, with Craig right behind him.

A man in a suit was yelling at Earvin, Jarrod’s uncle. The man was accompanied by several werewolves in uniform, bearing the insignia of the Alpha Congress, Pack Games Division.

Earvin’s ears had gone pointy, his face was hairy, and claws curved out of his fingertips. He was on the verge of fully shifting.

“You’ll let us do the testing, or your pack is out of the games!” the man was yelling at his uncle.

“After those accusations hit the paper,ou knew the testing was coming,” Jarrod said to him.

His uncle scowled at him. “I’m handling it.”

“I’m pack Alpha, so actually I’m handling it.”

His uncle glowered at him. “You’re Alpha Regent. You’re not officially our Alpha until and unless you get married.”

The man who’d been yelling turned away from Earvin and spoke to Jarrod. “Doctor Henry Costello, Chief Officer of the Alpha Games Medical Commission,” he said, leaning his head back and exposing his throat to indicate submission to the Alpha.

Jarrod nodded in acknowledgement. “Jarrod Shaw, Alpha Regent of the Magister Pack. How can I help you?”

“New Alpha Games rules. We require a series of blood samples from all participants in the games to ensure that there’s no use of performance-enhancing drugs.”

Earvin’s snout shot out and saliva drooled from his jaws. He growled something incomprehensible.

“Change the fuck back,” Jarrod said irritably. “Can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Earvin’s whole body shuddered and, with visible effort, he forced his head back into human form. “That is an insult to our pack,” he snarled.

“No, it isn’t, not if they’re requiring it of all packs,” Jarrod snapped at him. “How would it make us look if all the other packs agreed to the tests and we didn’t?” The Alpha Congress had been smart to do it that way. They’d avoided directly accusing the Magister Pack of cheating, and also made it impossible to refuse to take the tests.

Earvin didn’t answer, just glowered.

“We have nothing to hide. Test away. We will not interfere,” Jarrod said to Henry.

“We need all the athletes to meet us at your clinic,” Henry said. “You have two dozen contestants. By the end of this weekend, I need blood samples from all of them. I will personally supervise the blood draw, and from each athlete we will take two vials. We will take one vial with us and leave one behind. We will be leaving three of our men on your property, guarding the vials around the clock, until the testing is done.” He nodded at the uniformed men. “Of course, you may also assign men from your pack to guard the vials with us while we wait for results.”

“That is entirely fair. See that it’s done,” Jarrod said to Craig. “Give them whatever they need. Call me if there are any problems.”

Craig nodded. “We can take my car; I’ll take you to the clinic,” he said.

Earvin watched them walk towards the front of the building, his lip curled and fists bunched, then whirled to face Jarrod with a snarl.

“You have a lot of nerve,” he growled. “I’m the pack Gamesmaster, and I set the rules.”

“You calling me out?” Jarrod met his uncle’s gaze with a steady stare. “Or are you saying that we have something to worry about? Are you concerned about what they’ll find with the tests?”

His uncle’s gaze flickered for the briefest moment, and alarm shot through Jarrod. Earvin was actually worried about something. What was it?

“Not in the least,” his uncle said, stepping back and bowing his head the slightest bit to indicate submission. He should have inclined his head a lot more, but for the moment Jarrod would let it go.

Sooner or later they were going to clash, he knew. His uncle had gotten too used to running pack affairs over the last twenty years, and at one point he’d actually made a formal appeal to the Alpha Congress to overturn the rules about his disability so that he could be pack Alpha. He’d been voted down by a wide margin, and he’d been bitterly disappointed.

“There had better not be anything to worry about,” Jarrod said.

His morning sparring session was over. He needed to go to the clinic and talk to the athletes personally. He couldn’t imagine his uncle allowing any of them to take drugs – not because his uncle was such a great guy, but because of pride. His uncle was fiercely, obsessively proud of his position and of the pack’s standing; they had numerous champions. To win by taking drugs would be an embarrassment and a disgrace.

But still… His uncle’s expression… He was lying about something.

Jarrod let out a long, rumbling growl of frustration. This kind of distraction was the last thing he needed. He had a bridenapping to prepare for.

It was the big day. The day that Jarrod would bridenap Regina right out of Greenwood Park…if his uncle was to be believed, anyway.

Jarrod had kept his word after all. He’d been polite, if not warm, to Regina, and he had showed up to every single “accidental” meeting arranged by Matched and Mated. He had ignored Mary as if she didn’t exist.

Mary doubted Regina cared about his obvious lack of enthusiasm for her. What women like her wanted was the prestige that came with being married to the Alpha. She’d be the Alpha Queen. She’d have a lady in waiting. She’d have maidservants. Pack members would genuflect. It was as close to royalty as one could get, for an American.

Working on this bridenapping had set a constant dull ache in Mary’s heart. They had two other bridenappings scheduled, and Mary had offered to work on them instead, but Hilda had insisted that she finish Regina’s bridenapping first.

“You’re the one who royally screwed this up, so you’re going to see it through to the end. This is for your own good. For once, you’re going to do something right,” was the way Hilda had put it.

Mary could have pointed out that she wasn’t a screw-up, that she showed up on time and kept the agency running like clockwork for half the salary of an executive secretary, but she was too depressed these days. The fight had gone out of her. Jarrod was getting married to Regina, Hilda spent every day reminding Mary that she had no useable skills and she was lucky Hilda had hired her, and even though she and Angela had scrapped all day long while she was there, now that she was gone Mary missed her fiercely.

She glanced over at Regina.

Funny, Regina didn’t look as happy as she should have. She’d won. She was getting bridenapped, and Mary would have to stand there and watch. She wasn’t smiling, or smirking, though; she was pacing, looking anxious and distracted.

Of course, Regina looked fabulous, as always. She was styled to perfection. Her hair was flat-ironed and shiny and swung like a sheet of shimmering gold silk. She’d chosen a pink silk pantsuit in case Jarrod grabbed her and slung her over his shoulder, which was popular in bridenappings these days. Of course, some particularly naughty brides anticipated this and chose to wear short skirts and thongs – some even went without underwear – but Regina came from a family who liked to think of themselves as respectable.

The paparrazi were standing at a distance, cameras trained on the scene. Mary had to agree with Angela’s original assessment; this kind of pre-arranged bridenapping really sucked the joy out of it. Or maybe it was just her.

Regina’s parents were standing nearby, cameras clenched, talking to several of their staff members. One of them looked vaguely familiar to Mary, and she kept staring at him until he caught her eye, turned, and walked away. And then it hit her.

It was the man who’d attacked her. Hired by Regina’

“What is
she
doing here?” Hilda’s voice raked through the air, and Mary flinched. Now what?

A taxi had just pulled up and Angela was climbing out. She headed towards Mary with a determined look on her face. Her hair was dyed mermaid blue and she had a new lip ring. Not surprising. Whenever she was forced to spend time with her parents, she got more and more rebellious.

“Typical,” Hilda said to Mary, with a look of disgust. “Our biggest day, and you can’t go an hour without screwing up. She looks ridiculous, and I don’t want the photographers to associate her with our firm.
Get rid of her
.”

“You know what?” Mary said with a sudden flash of heat as Angela reached them. “You can jab at me all day long, but do not insult Angela. I happen to think her hair looks lovely.”

Hilda reared back, her eyes widening in shock and anger. “You’re lucky I ever hired you, with your complete lack of skills. You know what? I should—”

“Look for someone else? Do it.” Mary returned Hilda’s glare. She’d be better off flipping burgers, she realized. Of course, that wouldn’t even begin to cover her expenses and student loans, but…

Hilda looked like she was about to respond, but then she realized that the paparazzi were starting to look at her with interest, so she turned and hurried off.

“Angela! I missed you, you enormous pain in the ass.” Mary threw her arms around her and hugged her, hard. Then she stepped back. “What brings you here to this sad circus?”

“I missed you too, you uptight, list-making gramma. I came here because I wanted to tell you something. I’ve figured out something important.”

“Alarm clocks are not meant to be used as projectiles?”

Angela waved her hand impatiently. “Ha ha ha. Of course they are. No, something about Hilda.”

“I’m listening,” Mary said, although she was also scanning the street. Jarrod should be arriving soon. He was supposed to come in his pickup truck, spot Regina strolling in the park, grab her, and carry her away.

She felt her breakfast rising into her throat, and swallowed hard.

“Go on,” she said, returning her attention to Angela.

“Hilda knew how much you and Jarrod liked each other in high school, right?”

Mary winced. “I guess.”

“And she keeps saying that she wants everything to go off without a hitch, but she kept you on as coordinator even though she knew how much Jarrod likes you and knew it would risk the whole bridenapping. She’s not stupid. She may be an angry, uptight bitch, but she’s not stupid. She knows Jarrod likes you. She knew that it wasn’t you pursuing him, it was the other way around. You know why she made you do this bridenapping?”

A park custodian wandered by in a dull gray canvas jumpsuit, wearing a big hat that obscured his face. He was poking at debris with a stick. He stood about twenty feet away with his back to them. A city truck was idling next to him, with the driver sitting there texting on his cell phone.

Waste of fuel,
Mary thought with mild irritation. And it was polluting the air. Somebody should call the city and complain. She’d add it to her daily list. The prospect didn’t cheer her up as much as it should have.

“Why?” she asked, returning her attention to Angela.

“Because she knew it would hurt you.” Angela’s gaze bored into Mary. Mary flinched.

“That’s why I came back. I had to tell you that. You need to get out of there, Mary – she’s poison. She’s just an angry control freak, and she’s picked you as her little punching bag. Because, frankly, nobody else would put up with her crap.”

The usual defense leaped to Mary’s lips, but with less passion than usual this time. “She had to drop out of college for two years to support me after Mom—”

“Who the fuck cares?” Angela exploded with exasperation. “How do you even know that she dropped out because of you? That’s the kind of thing she’d say just to make you feel guilty. You were sixteen, you didn’t need babysitting, and I’m sure she got social security money from the state to take care of you, so you weren’t costing her anything.”

She heard footsteps clomping towards them. She turned to look. It was the park custodian. Wow, he was unusually big for a human. He was werewolf-sized, a good six-foot-five.

His big scraggy beard, and the way the hat obscured his face, was creepy. It made him look like a homeless serial killer. Mary instinctively stepped in front of Angela.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” she asked in an annoyed tone.

In one swift motion, he ripped the beard off his face and then tore off his hat.

Jarrod.

Before she could say a word, he’d moved so fast he was almost on top of her.

“Mary Farraday, you’re being bridenapped,” he announced, and grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder as she shrieked in outrage and surprise.

The door to the city truck flew open.

The next thing Mary knew, the truck had pulled away. She looked out the window to see Regina’s mouth stretched in an O of shock. Hilda’s face was red and contorted with rage. Mary felt sick.

“You lying son of a bitch!” she cried to Jarrod, her heart pounding wildly. Ohgodohgodohgod, Jarrod had just bridenapped her.

“What did I lie about?” He looked puzzled.

“You promised you’d go through with the bridenapping!”

“And I just did. I never said I’d bridenap Regina, did I?” He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes. “It was always you, Mary. It would only ever be you.”