Mated to the Alpha: The Complete Collection (13 page)

A few of the older members guffawed, until Lady Thornblood held up her hand. "Master Blanc Loup has a point. He doesn’t know what the Bears are." She looked at Keith, holding her hand out to him. "It’s your fight, Lord Lockwood. Perhaps you should do the telling."

Keith nodded, gathered his thoughts for a moment, and began. "Hundreds of years ago, when the first members of our race came to what was then known as the New World, they found a land rich in opportunity for our kind to practice our ways. However, we were seen as invaders by the Natives, who when confronted with our ancestors abilities, merely scoffed at us. You see, they practiced a form of shamanism, and to them, the ability to go from human to animal form was not much more exciting than a decent parlor trick would be to us.

"As conflict grew between the Natives and the European settlers, the Natives fought back. In the beginning, they were quite successful, such as the famous Lost Colony of Roanoke. One of our kind was in that colony, and spoke of a fierce type of Native warriors, who he called Skinwalkers, although the term has been used by others to describe similar groups since. These warriors took on mostly the form of a giant bear, although other animals were common back then as well.”

"For decades, a fierce war was fought between the Wolves and the Skinwalkers. Eventually, with what we call the French and Indian War, a treaty was struck between our kind and the Skinwalkers. They would confine themselves to only the Bear form. Meanwhile, both sides would cease attacks on non-lycanthrope populations. This benefited our kind more than theirs, since disease was already ravaging their populations. Shapeshifting can defend against a lot of things, but smallpox wasn't one of them. By the time of World War I, almost no Bears had been sighted in a decade. Due to the poor actions on both sides, as well as the fact that it seemed to have little impact on modern Lycan interrelations, the stories about them have faded from common teachings to our children. It seems, however, that the Kenai have had knowledge of them for a while. If I can ask, Peter, why hasn't this been brought to our attention before?"

"As you mentioned, Lord Lockwood, by the time of World War I, the Bears were almost extinct. However, my Clan, then under the leadership of my Alpha's grandfather, incurred a blood debt to the Bears. The youngest son of the Alphas joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force, the Canadian group that went to fight in France, against his father's wishes. While he cleared it with our French blood, unbeknownst to all parties the son of the leader of the Bear family also joined the CEF. While in France, these two were assigned to the same platoon. During the fighting, the two men saved each other's lives more than once. When they finally realized what the other one was, instead of fighting, they lay aside their arms and embraced as brothers. When they came back, the two men convinced their fathers to let the Wolves and the Bears live in peace in Kenai territory. The arrangement is much like how different Clans of Lycans interact, although there are some differences since we share territory."

"Well, that explains how you can have such relative wealth with so few Clan members," someone else said. "You've been supplementing your forces!"

"Not at all," Peter replied. "While we co-habitate our territory, there is only a little cooperation between our two kinds. However, they’re not the untrustworthy small group loner types that our ancestors made it seem. They, like us, have evolved to fit the reality of modern times. That is, of course, you prefer to have our Gatherings in the middle of Yellowstone park where we can run around fully changed, howling at the moon, rutting wildly and snarling at each other. I've heard it can be a lot of fun that way."

The comment earned a chuckle, ratcheting down the tension. Keith took the opportunity. "All right. Peter, once treatments have begun for everyone, and as many people as possible are stable, I move we disperse to our Clan territories. Those of you here, by Council authority can temporarily act as Clan Alpha until their own Alphas can take back control, or a new Alpha is determined. Until then, you can contact my Clan and Clan Thornblood for assistance in preventing civil strife. Agreed?"

The vote was nearly unanimous, with only a few of the youngest members not agreeing, mainly because they didn't know what to do next. As the group broke apart, Keith was encouraged to see older Alphas and Lycans take the young members aside and counsel them, Clan politics temporarily forgotten. Lady Thornblood came over, a small tight smile on her face. "Your words were wise and well said, Lord Lockwood. Your strength will be necessary over the next few days."

"Lady Thornblood, you know my focus right now. My first concern is Melanie, then I can focus on lycanthrope politics."

Thornblood nodded her agreement. "I would do the same in your place. But first, go check on your sister. Then we can start to bury the dead together. May I ask, what about a local police response?"

"The local sheriff is a Clan Lockwood member, as well as his senior deputy. He’ll keep any and all attention away from the Manor while we finish our business. As soon as I can, there will be a cleaning crew and repair crew up here. By the time any non-lycanthropes come up here, the Manor will look as close to normal as possible, at least on the outside. Interior repairs might take longer."

Lady Thornblood thought for a moment, then held out her hand. "My husband..... Nioclas..... he may have disagreed politically with you. You two certainly fought, mostly because of the situation with Morrigan. I would have us mend that rift. Akiko Thornblood pledges her friendship, if you will have it."

Keith took her hand and shook. "Keith Waldwyck accepts it, and offers his in return. Now Akiko, if I can ask a favor of you, please continue to assist me with coordination of the cleanup, after we have both had time to grieve and check on our wounded. We can discuss a burial and memorial ceremony later. What time is it, anyway?"

The large grandfather clock at the end of the hall, which had by some miracle not only continued to work but escaped unscathed, bonged, counting out the hours. "Seven in the morning," Akiko said. "Let us meet again at nine. Two hours should give everyone at least a little time to gather themselves."

Keith turned and slowly made his way towards the largest dining room, which had been set up as a temporary triage center. He walked in to see over two dozen Lycans in various states of injury, most of them bleeding from bullet or shrapnel wounds. He saw Jerry Greenwood kneeling next to a man he assumed was his father. Coming over, Keith wanted to kneel, but wasn't sure he could have gotten up without assistance. "Brother Greenwood, how are you doing?"

"Bloody fucking pissed off to have been taken out by something as braindead as a chunk of glass," the man replied, his hand still holding the compress against his thigh. "Don’t worry. Next time, they'll taste my claws if I have anything to say about it."

"I'm sure they will. In the meantime, rest. Your son has done an excellent job in the meantime, you should be proud."

"I am sir," Greenwood said, reaching up and ruffling his son's hair. "He's a great boy. Like I said, my only regret is that I was injured so quickly, and it’ll take me so long to heal. Apologies sir, but I’m a first generation Lycan. This may take me a while to overcome. A week perhaps."

"Knowing your spirit, I suspect I’ll be seeing you hobbling around the Manor by tomorrow morning. Now, rest. If I can find someone who can cook, we'll get some soup or something else up here quickly. Jerry, can you do that for me? If you need help, ask Peter Alces or Lady Thornblood, I'm sure they can get someone who will help you."

The young boy stood up, smiling at being recognized again. Nodding, he ran off without even a word of goodbye. Keith watched him run off, a smile on his face. Greenwood, on the other hand, shook his head along with his smile. "Apologies, Lord Lockwood. I'll speak with him on his manners later."

"No need. His eager service and hard work are better than all the flowery words in the world. Take care, Brother."

Keith walked away to where he saw Kimberly had been laid out on the long table, her face pale and strained in the overhead lights. Someone had covered her to her neck in a sheet, and for a moment Keith feared that she was dead, until she stirred and groaned. Ignoring the pain, he made his way over, finally leaning on the table, stroking his sister's pained face. "Kim, I'm here," he whispered, "it's okay, I'm here."

Kimberly's eyelids fluttered, and she opened them slowly, wincing at the bright light in her eyes. Keith looked up and growled, his irritation seen. Someone over by the entrance to the dining room turned the rheostat knob, and the bright overheads in their chandelier dimmed considerably.

"Thanks," she said, groaning. "Keith.... Mother...."

"I know," he said, tears threatening his vision. "They took Melanie too."

"Morrigan?" Kimberly asked, struggling to sit up. A medic came over, his face concerned until he saw the expression on the Alpha Female's face. "I swear to blood..."

"She is dead, too," Keith replied softly. "There is much to fill you in on."

Kimberly finally fought her way to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the table. One of the doctors finally came over, a stethoscope already in his ears. "You really shouldn't be moving, Lady Lockwood," he said, bravely putting his hands on her shoulders. "You took quite a tumble, and it's a miracle you didn't break your neck. Or maybe you did and just healed that quickly. In any case, I don't recommend you moving."

"This table can be used by someone more gravely injured," Kimberly replied. "You think I'm going to die just getting up?"

The doctor looked like he was going to object, but finally shook his head. "No, Lady Lockwood. It's still not wise for you to exert yourself though."

"Then I’ll take her to her quarters," Keith said. "The bed will be more comfortable than this table anyway."

"Lord Lockwood, you shouldn't be moving too much either," the doctor said. "My Lady Thornblood said that you took quite the fall yourself. Even as an Alpha Male, your body is not built for that sort of punishment. And then there is your arm wound to treat."

"Send a medic to stitch me up later if he can spare the time. I'm not dying. Triage, Doctor. It doesn't matter what my rank is, got it?"

"Yes, Lord Lockwood," the doctor replied.

Kimberly tried to get off the table, but wobbled, dizzy. Keith reached around her with his good right arm and held her, holding his sister close. "Screw it. Kim, put your arms around my neck."

Using his arm like a sling underneath her hips, Keith lifted his sister up with one arm and carried her out of the room and up the main stairs, heading for her quarters. He painfully opened the door and brought her in, setting her on her feet next to her bed. "Okay, now this is orders from not only your Clan Alpha Male, but your brother. You lie down, right here, for at least the next hour or two until the dizziness goes away. Got it?"

Kimberly looked up at him with heartbreaking pain in her eyes, the tears that had been threatening to spill over since she had woken up finally escaping. "Keith," she said, sobbing.

"I know," Keith said, holding his sister, both of them letting the tears flow in the privacy they so rarely had. Holding his sister, Keith lay down, the two of them finding comfort in the one place they'd always had since their birth, in each other's arms. "I know, Kim."

When the tears finally slowed, they looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking. "Okay. First you rest, then we go get her back," Keith said, kissing Kimberly's forehead. He climbed off the bed, pulling back the cover to tuck her in. "I'll be back in an hour."

Kimberly nodded and lay her head back. "When you do, bring Lady Thornblood. It seems she and I have much to talk about."

"I will. Rest, and then we'll all talk." Keith closed the door behind him, and Kimberly looked up at the ceiling of her quarters. Keith was right, there was a lot to talk about.

And a lot of blood to spill.

M
elanie watched
in horror as the large man in the trench coat aimed his pistol at Keith, only for the barrel to be deflected at the last moment, and the round to impact with his arm instead of his head. She watched as Keith tried to grab the skids of the helicopter only to fall, crashing into the lawn below, her screams filling the chopper until she felt a needle punch into the muscles of her butt, and suddenly a sense of cool jelliness came over her. She didn't fall asleep so much as go limp, unresisting as the men in the helicopter strapped her into a seat.

They flew for close to two hours, and while she could see the sun rising, she couldn't tell much more than that. Turning her head was an almost impossible effort, and the little bit she could see from the corner of her eye didn't tell her much. She thought they were flying north, but she could have been wrong. After setting down in an empty field, the men in the chopper unstrapped her and carried her into a waiting van, getting in behind her.

"Where are you taking me?" she finally was able to ask, her voice sounding like it was coming from a speaker a mile away.

"Don't concern yourself with things that you have no control over," the large man with the mirrored sunglasses said. "I suggest you get some sleep, actually. A woman in your condition needs it." Melanie found that her eyelids were getting heavy, and when another sharp jab from a needle went into her arm, she drifted off, the world going dark.

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was how much warmer the air around her was. It had been chilly at the Lockwood Manor when she'd last been awake, but the air here was much warmer. She tried to open her eyes, but found she still couldn't move.

"How much longer is she going to be out?" a voice said below her, past her feet. Melanie assumed that meant she was lying down, although her sense of balance was still off, she couldn't be sure.

"It shouldn't be much longer. We had to inject her twice, the influence of her child on her physiology is greater than we'd anticipated. She should have dropped off immediately after the first shot. But a full blooded werewolf would have woken up by now." The answer came from another voice, a little bit to the left of the first one. She was definitely lying down, even if her body didn't detect it yet.

"Will the drugs have harmed her child? The Archbishop has approved my plan for it, and I don’t want it damaged. I need a healthy baby wolf for our cause."

"I don’t think so, Brother. The child comes from Alpha lines, and should be very strong. Honestly, if we had to we could probably perform a Cesarean now, and dispose of the woman. The child would have only a small chance of deformity."

"No, it is best if we make sure the child is born fully formed. Once it is, we have the best chance of developing the weapon that the Archbishop wants."

Melanie felt her fingers twitch, and in her belly she felt a kick that was definitely the baby. Still, she tried to hold still, she wanted to hear what these men were saying about her.

"Brother, I know that the Archbishop is very wise, but I must give air to my concerns about this plan."

"Your concerns are noted, Brother, and have been overruled. Remember, understanding is not a prerequisite of obedience. Now, silence for now, it seems our guest is beginning to wake up. Good evening, Miss Richter."

Melanie gave up trying to pretend she was still sleeping, and struggled to get her eyes open. The world was blurry, and she couldn't focus for a while, but when she could, she saw two men, one white, the other Hispanic, standing at the end of what looked like a standard queen sized bed. "Ah, there we are. I do hope you're feeling refreshed after your nap, you were out almost fifteen hours."

"Wh... where am I?" she said. She wanted to unleash a flood of questions, but held back. She had been a cop for far too long to forget that such behavior was a sure sign of panic, and a great way to get her questions ignored. It told her captors that she was scared, and that she could be manipulated.

"You are in a secure facility, that is all you really need to know at this time," the white man said. "You are in the care of the Order of the Silver Bringers, or as your werewolf friends call us, the
silberjagger
. Welcome, and enjoy your stay."

"Why am I here?" she asked. "Why not just kill me?"

"Oh, that wouldn't be helpful to our cause at all, Miss Richter," the man answered, his lips playing with a smile. "Not at all."

"My name isn't Richter," she said, struggling to get up. She got halfway off the bed and sagged back, her arms still mostly Jell-O. "My name is Melanie Waldwyck."

"Eh, as you wish, although some of our order would say that since you never were properly married, the whole name thing doesn't work. I'm more of a pragmatist. Call yourself Richter, Waldwyck, Lockwood or Minnie Mouse, it doesn't change your situation. You are here, and you'll continue to be here for the next few months until your baby arrives."

"And then?"

The man shrugged. "That’s not for me to say. In the meantime, relax, and when you can sit up properly, please use the buzzer next to your bed. One of us will bring you some food, I'm sure you must be very hungry by now."

"Wait, I have more questions," Melanie began, stopping when both men turned and left the room. The door closed behind them, and she could hear the heavy clank as a deadbolt or something similar was shot. She was locked in.

While she waited for her limbs to start working again, Melanie slowly looked around the room. She was in what looked like a hotel room crossed with a prison cell. The mirror on the wall above the sink wasn't glass, but a highly polished steel she was used to seeing in cells, in order to prevent it being broken and used as a weapon or a suicide tool. The walls were also solid, with no windows to the outside to tell her more about her surroundings. The only ventilation was in the ceiling, an air duct that was very firmly sealed in, with the grating behind what looked like concrete fittings. Turning her head, she noticed that her bed was held together with the sort of locking screws and bolts that resisted removal, making disassembly nearly impossible without a cutting blade or a power tool.

On the other hand, the room was furnished like a normal hotel room. The furniture she could see was of decent quality, and looked like wood other than the unique fasteners. The floor was carpeted, and while the carpet was cheap, it wasn't dirty or torn. All in all, it looked like she was in something akin to a mental ward.

Melanie thought about what she had heard. They weren't going to kill her immediately, that was for sure. However, they didn't care about her, they wanted her baby. Why?

In any case, it didn't really matter at the moment. She knew that if either Keith or Kimberly had survived the attack, they would find her, and only God himself might be able to stop the twin Alpha Lycans. Although if she had to lay money on it, she'd put money on the Waldwycks.