Twisted

Chapter Five

Maggie settled onto the hard seat, her gaze on the mountains outside the floor-to-ceiling window. Terrent sat next to her in the lodge’s conference room, displeasure vibrating from him with an intensity that sped up her heart. The Alpha, his nephew, and the enforcer sat across the table. The stupid doctor sat at the end, still wearing his mask.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let the wolf doctors poke me,”

she muttered. The vampire doctors had examined her for years without discovering anything off.

The doctor sniffed behind the mask. “We know more about wolf anatomy and the workings of the Vaile wolves than do the vampires. Unfortunately, if the demons want you dead, they know about your gifts, too.”

Terrent was still. Too still. “What the hell are you taking about, doctor?”

The doctor’s hand trembled. “The tests came back. We tested her brain waves. They’re just like a normal wolf ’s.”

The doctor’s eyes bugged out over the paper mask, and his tone hinted at disaster.

Claws emerged from her fingertips, so Maggie hid her hands under the table. Her stomach pitched. “How is that bad?”

“Well—” the doctor waited for a nod from Gerald before continuing—“you’re from the island, and your brain waves should reflect the ability to shield, or mask your scent.”

The blank hole that had contained her memories mocked her. Maggie’s lungs heated. “So, my memories are lost not because of the virus, but because the Kurjans messed with my brain? Or my brain waves?”

“Apparently.” The doctor leaned forward. His eyes glowed with interest. “Your people send out brain waves to mask your scents much in the same way the demons send out images of pain and death to torture. My guess? The Kurjans were trying to take your natural gift and make you a weapon. To demons, to wolves, to everybody you might demolish mentally.”

“I can’t demolish anybody mentally,” Maggie said. She couldn’t even get into her own head, much less anybody else’s.

“Yet.” The doctor snuffled behind the mask. “Brain waves have a rhythm. Yours are normal waves for a wolf, but that could change. Just being exposed to your own people might alter your rhythm.”

“Bullshit.” Terrent’s fist hit the table.

Maggie jumped.

The doctor sighed. “Even humans understand that music can alter brain waves in children. In fact, I believe the vampires invested heavily in all the CD music that was sold for pregnant women the last few decades. What the humans haven’t figured out is that anybody’s brain waves can be altered. It’s not easy, and it has consequences, but it’s possible.”

So the Kurjans had messed with her brain? Maggie swallowed down the bile rising from her gut. “So, what? The Kurjans let the demons think I’m some sort of demon destroyer?”

Terrent nodded. “Makes sense. The vampires rescued you, the Kurjans were stretched thin with the war, so they let loose the fact that you were dangerous to demons. Let the demons take care of you.”

“But I’m not. I mean, I can’t do any big brain tricks.”

How cool would that skill have been?

The doctor grimaced and repeated, “Yet. I mean, your brain has been altered. In repairing itself, who knows what you might be able to do?”

Yeah. Doubtful. Very doubtful. Maggie sighed. “Um, why are you wearing a mask?”

His eyes bugged out. “I don’t know what else you might’ve been infected with. Sorry.”

What a complete dumbass.

Roger pushed back from the table. “I’ve heard enough.

I’m sorry, but you have to leave our pack.”

“Wait a minute—” Terrent stood.

“No.” Determination and an odd satisfaction tilted Roger’s round face. “Protecting the pack is my duty, and I’ll do so. Take her and leave. Now.”

Terrent’s wolf shimmered beneath the surface. “You’re not Alpha here, asshole.” He turned toward Gerald. “We have an agreement. Maggie lives here.”

“Whoa.” Maggie stood up. “I never agreed to live here.”

One of the younger soldiers ran into the room, his face scraped and bloody. “The prisoners escaped.”

Terrent lifted an eyebrow. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees. “The three wolves I brought to you escaped?”

“Um, yes.” The wolf lowered his gaze.

Gerald stood, anger whitening his lips. “What happened?”

“I can’t explain. We heard a noise, went down to the cells, and nobody was there. I couldn’t smell anybody, so we opened the doors.” He rubbed his face. “I have two men down.” The soldier wiped blood off his chin. “They escaped down the north side of the mountain—heading toward Canada.”

Terrent eyed the wolf. “I told you they could mask their scents.”

“I know. But I couldn’t hear anything, either. And there was no window in the door,” the soldier said.

Maggie clutched her hands together and bit back a wince when her claws cut into her skin. They’d be coming for her again.

Roger strode toward the door and shoved the younger wolf out. “Get me five teams of three ready to go.”

“Yes, sir.” The injured man took off running.

Roger turned back toward Gerald. “This is unacceptable.

It’s time for a change.” Red suffused his face. “Don’t make me challenge you.” Then he focused on Terrent. “Take your woman and leave—I’ll handle the Vaile wolves.” He turned on his heel and disappeared.

Gerald wiped his mouth, fatigue fanning out from his eyes. “I’m sorry. We’ve lost many to the war, and our soldiers are still off fighting. I haven’t trained them as I should.”

Terrent clasped his shoulder. “You can’t give up now.”

“I need to go.” Gerald’s shoulders slumped. “I lived here for nearly nine centuries with Lois. She’s all around me here, and I need to go. To travel and try to heal.”

“I miss her, too, and I’m sorry she’s gone. But Roger is not prepared to lead a pack,” Terrent said, grasping Maggie’s elbow and assisting her up.

“There’s nobody else right now. The war has us stretched thin—many wolves are still fighting in the south. I can’t beat him if he challenges me. He’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen.”

Gerald shook his head.

Maggie coughed into her hand. “He doesn’t seem that great. I mean, Terrent contained Roger easily yesterday.”

Gerald tucked his chin and lifted his eyebrows. “Terrent isn’t exactly a normal fighter, now is he? Believe me, against most wolves, Roger would prevail.”

Interesting. Maggie’s shoulders straightened with an odd pride about Terrent. “Cool.”

Gerald eyed Terrent. “I don’t think this will be a safe place to leave your mate.”

Leave her? Maggie stumbled. “I thought you wanted to settle down with this pack.”

Gerald’s head jerked up, his eyes swirling. “You want to settle with a pack, Terrent?”

“No.” His long legs ate up the distance to the door. “I want a safe place for my mate while I’m out on tours. I thought this was it.”

“I won’t be left.” Maggie tried to yank her arm from his grasp. Unsuccessfully. Besides, it wasn’t like she had agreed to mate him. Well, agreed again to mate him.

Terrent turned at the doorway to pin the too-quiet doctor with a hard look. “I want additional tests run on Maggie, and I want you to send all results to the Kayrs headquarters for a second opinion.”

“No.” The doctor’s hands shook. “The vampires don’t know about the Vaile wolves, and if I send them the data, they’ll figure it out.”

Terrent chuckled, the sound completely lacking in humor.

“Dage Kayrs knows what you had for breakfast, doc. I guarantee he’s informed about the Vaile wolf pack and their strange abilities. Trust me. There are no secrets from the king.”

Gerald gave a weary nod. “Send the king the results.”

“Thank you,” Terrent said. “I also want a guarantee of Maggie’s safety while she’s here. For ten years she hasn’t harmed anybody with any demon brain ability, even under extreme duress. The tests are wrong.”

“You have my word,” Gerald said.

Terrent nodded. “I’m borrowing a pack rig to take Maggie to safety, and then I’ll return for the three wolves. Your soldiers need help.”

“Yes, they do. Threats are aimed at us from all sides.”

Gerald’s hands shook.

“You still being threatened by the Ausgel pack?” Terrent asked.

“Yes. Until our soldiers return, we’re vulnerable to attack,” Gerald said.

Maggie frowned. “Who?”

“A feral wolf pack that doesn’t belong to the Realm.

They’ve wanted our mountain for centuries.” Gerald stretched his neck. “But they’re not your concern. I’ll step up training tomorrow just in case.”

Terrent frowned. “We’ll talk later. Let’s go, Mags.”

She followed him through the lodge and out to an old but sturdy Ford truck. “I can fight, you know,” she muttered.

He pivoted so quickly she almost fell on her butt. “Ten years of training doesn’t make a fighter. Especially when someone still suffers from PTSD.”

That was a nice way to say she had terrible panic attacks.

“I find I don’t like you very much right now.”

He grinned, flashing sharp canines while opening the passenger-side door. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

Damn. Would her memories ever return?

She jumped inside, glaring out the window at the peaceful forest as he stepped into the truck and started the igni-tion. Quick movements had the vehicle maneuvered down a dirt road, heading south toward town. She bounced around in the cab, clutching the dash, growling at the terrible potholes.

They made it halfway down the mountain before she turned to look at him. They needed to find common ground.

Arguing with the stubborn wolf gave her a headache. “So you fought with my grandfather in the war?”

Terrent started. “Ah, no. I was just a kid when I met him.”

Instinct whispered if she waited a second, the wolf would talk. Maybe her memories were returning. So she studied his strong profile. Or was it just hard?

Terrent sighed. “Three hundred years ago I lived in a small village in Scotland. The first war between the vampires and the Kurjans exploded, and any allies of either were taken down. My people were wiped out. Completely.”

“I’m so sorry,” Maggie whispered.

He lifted a shoulder. “I was only two years old and barely remember. Somebody hid me, and three days after the mas-sacre, your grandpa found me.”

Maggie blinked. “My people raised you?”

Terrent coughed out a laugh. “No. Your people don’t mix well with other wolves because of their weird ability. Your grandpa brought me to Gerald, and I was raised with his pack until I was eight.”

“What then?” Had the poor guy found a home?

“I had skills—fighting skills that were beyond the norm.

Plus, I came from an Alpha bloodline but lacked a pack. So I trained to sit on the Bane’s Council. All over the world, I trained with the best shifters, vampires, even a couple of demons in order to fight.” He checked the rearview mirror.

“Since the age of eight, I was trained to kill.”

The matter-of-fact tone chilled her more than the actual words. “Sounds lonely.”

“It was.” His dark eyes warmed as he glanced her way.

“Then I found you, and I wasn’t lonely any longer.”

Her heart thumped. Hard. “I wish I remembered us.”

“I wish you did, too.” His hands tightened on the wheel.

“You need to believe that even though we argued, and you took off for a bit, we didn’t break up. You just needed to cool off.”

Relying on somebody else to fill in her past flared her instincts into awareness. “I don’t know many wolves, but it seems we’re ruled by emotion. If we really wanted to mate, why didn’t we?”

His upper lip quirked.

Cute. Way too cute.

“You wanted to get married first,” he said, shaking his head. “Totally unorthodox, kind of silly, but you’re a true ro-mantic.”

Well, yeah. The whole white dress, veil, walking down the aisle sounded sweet. She wanted sweet. “You agreed?”

He scratched his head. “I agreed to anything you wanted except allowing you to fight.”

She’d ignore that word for now. “You didn’t trust me.”

“It wasn’t about trust.” His brow furrowed. “You have many fine skills, but you’re, I mean, you’re—”

“Clumsy?” she muttered.

He snorted. “Horribly clumsy. I tried to train you in blade fighting once, and you almost took off your own foot.” He laughed, the sound deep and free. “God, you were a menace.”

She still was a klutz. But every fighter had difficulties.

She opened her mouth to explain reality to him when something hit the side of the truck.

Hard.

Metal crunched.

The vehicle swept sideways across the road, throwing gravel and protesting with the screech of fuming brakes.

Fear blasted through her nerves. Maggie screamed and claws shot out of her hands. Fire rippled down her legs.

Terrent swore and jerked the wheel toward the center of the road.

At the wolf propelling the truck full force toward a stand of tall pine trees.

Air stopped in Maggie’s throat. She turned to meet feral yellow eyes outside her window. Gray fur was matted down his back. Saliva dripped off his sharp canines. A roaring filled her ears. Her entire body shook. Not now. Not now. Not now.

Terrent yanked the truck into park. He shot an arm out, shoving her back into her seat and bracing her. Fury lit his eyes. “Get ready for impact.”

A thought later, the Ford slammed into a century-old pine tree. Glass shattered inward, cutting her leg. The passenger side tires flipped off the road and landed back down with a hiss of air. The seat belt cut hard across Maggie’s chest, and her skull smacked the headrest.

The world roared into silence.

She panted, her eyes opening, her heart clutching cold.

Terrent grabbed her shoulders. Blood flowed from a cut along his cheekbone, and rage shimmered in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

She gulped air. “Yes.” Tingles cascaded up her spine. Her lips went numb. Panic swept through her on the heels of terror.

Terrent slashed her seat belt in two with sharp claws and shoved her head down to her knees. “Stay here and breathe deep. Cover your face.”

She turned her head and rested her cheek on her leg.

Tightening his lips, he yanked a knife from his boot. In a blur of motion, he exploded through the windshield. Glass torpedoed in every direction.

She gasped and sat up. Had he cut himself ?

Rolling across the hood, he landed on the gravel, immediately slashing the wolf in the jugular. The beast yelped and turned tail, stumbling until collapsing in the center of the road. Two men instantly dashed from the opposite forest, one lifting a handgun.

The attackers from the previous night! They sure hadn’t gone far after escaping.

Bullets ricocheted off metal. Terrent dropped to his knee, propelling the knife end over end toward the shooter with a flick of his wrist.

The knife embedded itself in the guy’s neck, and he went down.

The other man stood at least seven feet tall with a barrel for a chest. Muscles bulged along his arms, and his hands were the size of hubcaps. He smiled and angled closer to the truck. His blue gaze flicked toward her. “She’s ’ars.” The brogue lay thick and heavy in the quiet morning.

“Wrong.” Terrent angled around to the north.

“Let’s ask ’er,” the wolf said, his head tilted.

“Go ahead.” Terrent slid his feet into a fighting stance.

Maggie swallowed, her gaze on the dangerous scene.

Shards of glass framed the hole in her window. “Who are you?”

“Gregory Newt, a friend of yer betrothed.” Gregory aimed his thumb toward Terrent. “Ye don’t want to be with him. He’s Skene clan.”

Terrent took advantage of the moment and attacked.

Head down, he hammered into Gregory’s gut. The men cata-pulted across the road and hit the ground with the force of a wrecking ball. Gravel, rocks, and dirt exploded from the earth, leaving an indentation. Gregory roared and threw Terrent off him.

Terrent somersaulted and landed on his feet.

Gregory charged.

Maggie screamed and pushed open her door. She dropped to the gravel, clutching the truck to remain standing. Her knees wobbled. Damn panic attacks. She shoved this one down. Time to control herself. Terrent was about six-and-a-half feet, but the other wolf was bigger. She needed to help Terrent.

Oh. Oh. Well, now.

While Gregory might be bigger, Terrent was faster. Brutally faster.

He jabbed, kicked, and punched faster than she could track. The impacts drove Gregory back a foot. Another foot.

His enormous hands swept out, and he finally connected with Terrent’s jaw. Terrent’s head shot to the side. Slowly, he turned back toward his foe.

Maggie gasped. Dread slid up her esophagus.

Fire lit Terrent’s eyes with the promise of death. Gone was the charming wolf who liked her clumsiness. Gone was the smooth lover. Gone was the fierce fighter.

Here was the killer they’d created.

While her head held no memories, she knew without a doubt she’d never seen him as he truly was. Something she hadn’t known she’d been missing clicked into place.

There. He. Was.

The wolf rippled beneath his human skin. Beast and man combined in a configuration she’d never imagined. The deadliest form of both animals. That wasn’t normal.

He clapped both palms against Gregory’s face.

Bones cracked. The other wolf howled in pain.

Terrent plunged all five claws in his right hand straight into Gregory’s neck, jerking up.

Gregory hit his knees, shock flickering in his eyes.

God. She needed to stop this. Tentative steps toward Terrent made her legs wobble. Fear heated her earlobes. Slowly, she pressed against his vibrating back. “Terrent? Please don’t kill them.”

Sure, they’d wanted to take her to Scotland. But they hadn’t intended to hurt her. Even the bullets hadn’t impacted Terrent and were more of a warning than an actual murder attempt. The wolves were people she’d once known. Maybe.

“Please,” she said softly.

Muscles undulated beneath her palm. His claws retracted.

Gregory fell to the side, his hands clutching his neck.

Terrent pivoted and lifted Maggie. The ground spun away.

Safety and warmth enveloped her. She pressed her face against his heated neck. Good air in. Bad air out. She could control the panic.

Her eyes fluttered shut. The three wolves would survive, but they’d be on the injured list for a while. Although shifters weren’t as indestructible as vampires and could die from natural causes, they would still regenerate unless the wound was absolutely fatal.

Terrent hadn’t killed them. In his moment of rage, he’d listened to her. He’d stopped before killing.

She kissed his neck.

His body shuddered.

She inhaled again. “I think I remember loving you, Terrent Vilks.”