Ulvic
I waited for Ignus in the smoking room, doubts spilling through my gut at the entire plan. Had Mekiah and Reason made it inside the castle? Were they with Jameson now?
I always felt on edge in the Helsings' home. Despite the fact I'd been doing business with them for years, I was aware they held all the cards when it came to me and my little island of Werewolves. It was practically funded by them with all the business we'd conducted together over the years. So I had to tread lightly. And God help us all if they found out what I was planning.
I was perched in a cherry-wood armchair, sipping on a glass of whiskey I'd taken the liberty of pouring for myself. My palms were slick with sweat. I wasn't much of a rebel, but I'd do anything for my wolves. Their nature fascinated me. All the appearance of humans with the instincts of a wolf pack. My father had never understood my interest in them; after all, we as Hunters were designed to kill them. But then again, my father had only ever understood high-powered rifles and bullets dipped in Wolfsbane. It was no wonder we'd never gotten along.
I'd been a curious child, spending my free time dissecting small mammals, understanding the workings of their bodies. And whilst my father was laying claim to driving the Werewolf species into extinction, my flare for science was blooming. And when he was finally satisfied that the species was eradicated, I suspected otherwise. To me, it seemed clear that by the law of averages, there must have been at least a handful of the animals left in the world.
My father was brash, never thorough. So him bragging about the annihilation of the species with his Hunter friends meant little to me. In fact, it inspired a challenge in me to hunt down the last of the species. To examine them, study them. Learn about the Hunter-Werewolf war that had been underway for centuries.
When I came across Reason, my first wolf - just a teenager living on the streets of Sedona, Arizona - I expected a powerful urge to kill her. My father had trained me in the traditions of Hunters, but he had never let me accompany him on a Hunt due to my youth. I was brought up on stories and fear-mongering as my father tried to instill in me centuries of hate. But it didn't work.
I was different. Curious. And, ultimately, when it came to meeting a Werewolf face to face, entirely unaffected – if you discounted being over the moon.
No instinct rose in me, no urge to kill the young girl in ragged clothes and bare feet stained red from the desert sand. For whatever reason, the Hunter blood didn't make me want to kill Werewolves. I was an anomaly, a disability that offended my family name. And I might have gone unnoticed if I hadn't had a servant with me. For years I travelled with him, seeking out the last remaining wolves and bringing them back together, not knowing that all along my servant would betray me. The boy fed the information back to my father, and it was of no surprise to me that he subsequently disowned me for it. I abandoned the servant boy and fled with my pack.
At first, we lived on the road, moving from one country to the next. I wanted to set up a base, but I had no money since I'd been cut off from my father's inheritance. So I skimmed, I scammed, I stole here and there, all over the globe, just enough to get by. Until I met the Helsings.
Ignus tracked me down in Romania. My father had made a deal with him to find me and, most likely, kill me. A deal which must have cost my father a hefty price. After he'd found out about my work, his pride wouldn't let his only son dirty the family legacy.
After nearly an hour's wait, the door opened and I snapped out of my reverie, finding Ignus striding into the room. A painting of him hung just over his shoulder in a gilded frame. The image resembled him, but there'd always been something off about it. Something missing. And with a jolt, I finally realised what it was.
In the painting, Ignus was smiling, just like he was now. But the thing that was missing was that spark of mania in his eyes.
I stood, feeling slightly more confident now he was here. “Good to see you.”
“And you.” Ingus's lips tipped up.
Visually, he was barely eighteen, but in truth, those eyes had seen more than eighty years of life. He was nearly as old as me. And perhaps that's why we had always gotten on well enough.
I folded my arms, reminding him I was still furious about what he'd done to me the last time I was here, letting his pet V feed from me. Coercing me.
Ignus's shoulders dropped and his gaze became laced with apprehension. “You didn't say goodbye when you left.”
I shrugged as casually as I could manage. “You were busy at the end of the last game.” I dropped into my seat, my tense shoulders relaxing marginally.
I'd known Ignus for years. He had absolute power in every aspect of his life, bar one. Me.
And that was the reason he'd denied my father's money when he'd tracked me down. The one thing that had given me any sway with him over all the years we'd done business. That we had some unspoken connection. He'd given me a chance to speak my side of things, and had been turned in my favour against my father.
In all our years of work together where I'd offered him my expertise in paranormal science, he had never once laid down the law with me. Until last week during the V Games, setting his parasitic Vampire on me, trying to scare me into giving him what he wanted. And I'd crumbled. I'd been reluctant to lend him Jameson in the first place, but he'd paid an enormous price that would expand my worldwide search for Werewolves twenty times over. So I'd made the decision for him to 'borrow' Jameson. Just for one season of the games. Under strict instructions that he was not allowed to be killed, or else huge compensation would have to be paid.
But that hadn't been enough for Ignus. Over the years, I'd experimented with Werewolf blood, trying to work on producing a virus that could be injected into a human and turn them into a wolf - whether it were a full moon or not. But, though I hadn't yet achieved it, I had stumbled across certain formulas. One that kept Werewolves in their animal form and another that took away their humanity whilst in that form. Both very dangerous in the wrong hands. And I'd made the foolish mistake of confiding in Ignus about my work. I should have known he'd have wanted to get his mitts on it. And when I refused, he set his pet Vampire on me.
“Forgive me if I'm not overly friendly toward you, Ignus.” I surveyed him coolly.
“Oh Ulvic.” He slumped down in a chair. “You're not still mad about a little V bite, are you?”
“A little V bite?” I echoed, my voice booming. I didn't get angry very often, and when I did my words usually failed and I clammed up, but I was still too offended right then to hold back. Ignus was many things, but he had been loyal to me over the years. There had been a bond of trust between us when it mattered, but he'd forgone it to get his hands on my work.
“It's just business,” Ignus said, picking at his nails.
My throat closed up and no more words came out. It had been years since my stammer had shown up, but if it did, Ignus would know something was wrong.
My father's voice rang in my head.
No son of mine should be this cowardly.
I cleared my throat, forcing the past away. I'd overcome that demon. I wasn't about to succumb to it now.
Ignus stood, moving to an antique drinks cabinet and folded the doors back, taking out a bottle of whiskey and pouring another two glasses. He held one out to me and I plucked it from his hand.
“Relax, Vic. I'm sorry, alright? Let's start over.” He held out his drink to clink against my glass, his fingers brushing mine. His eyes told me everything I needed to know about his feelings for me. I offered him a small smile, needing to play along if I was going to get my wolves out of here.
And, God, somehow Selena and that V she was attached to, as well. Not that she was my top priority, but I'd given her my word.
“What have you done with Selena?” I inquired, standing to meet Ignus nose-to-nose.
His fingers curled around my wrist and he tugged me closer so his mouth was by my ear. “Want to know a secret?”
I slid a hand around his waist, bringing him closer. “What?”
“Remember I told you about the upgrade I was working on?”
I nodded, my eyebrows lowering.
“Well, I did it Vic. Purchased a new island and built a brand new arena. Wait till you see it.” He grinned and I shared a tentative smile.
“What does that have to do with Selena?”
He stepped back, looking pleased with himself. “I was going to execute her at first, then I had a brilliant idea. It came to me like that.” He snapped his fingers and the noise plucked the chords in my ears. “I'm sending her to the new island. She's going to die the way she deserves: in the game.”
I felt the blood draining from my face, drop by drop. “She's going to play again?” My heart tipped over, crashing into my lungs. I'd heard of other Hunters making girls play round after round of the games. But they trained them, made them strong, gave them luxuries in return so they were appeased. It wasn't the type of thing just anyone could do, survive and kill over and over. But those women were different. Maniacs, half of them. Getting paid to kill and stay out of prison.
But Selena wouldn't survive another game. She may have been mentally strong, but the odds were against her now.
“Seems a little harsh,” I said through a false smile.
Ignus shrugged, fiddling with the buttons on my coat. “She has defied our family. It makes sense to do it this way. The spectators will watch her die and many of them will have justice for their friend's death.”
My smile dropped into a scowl. “Is it really necessary to hand the winner over for a night with one of the men?”
Ignus rolled his eyes. “It's tradition, Vic. It's about keeping the men happy. If they stop coming, the game dies.”
“Right,” I said through tight lips.
His hands snaked around my waist. “Anyway, I don't want to talk about them. I want to talk about you.”
Entertaining Ignus's advances was one thing I was good at. He might have been slightly insane, but he wasn't all bad to look at. There'd even been the occasional time I'd wondered if he really could be changed, if we had a prospect of a future together...
I moved out of his hold to ensure he didn't get a sense of my heightened state. My mind kept wandering to my wolves. Were they alright? Were they with Jameson now? Could they find a way to get him out?
“If you think we can just pick things up where we left off after you set a Vampire on me, you're wrong.” I managed to keep my words flowing. As a kid, I'd hardly been able to talk with how much my stammer had affected me.
Ignus frowned, looking genuinely apologetic for once. “You withheld your research from me, Vic. Which you have never done in all the time we've known each other.”
I sighed, avoiding his piercing blue gaze. “And that was reason enough to set Varick on me?” I lifted my chin defiantly, but my heart was thumping hard beneath my ribcage.
Ignus rested his hand on my shoulder, looking desperate. “I'm truly sorry. You know how I can be when I don't get my way.”
I pinched my lips together. I knew exactly how he could be. Violent, vengeful, vindictive. But never with me. Not once with me.
Ignus seemed to read my expression, knotting his fingers into mine. “Let me make it up to you.”
I nodded then, figuring I'd try my luck, said, “Let me take Jameson home, and I'll forget about it.”
A shadow passed through Ignus's eyes. He was still smiling which unnerved me the most. He sighed, stepping back, a breathy laugh passing his lips. “Problem is, he's already on his way to my new island.”
My heart dipped in panic. “You never told me!”
He nodded solemnly. “Oh Vic, come on. You lent him to me for a season of the games. Of course he's going to the island.”
“I have the right to be informed,” I said through my teeth, my mind doing cartwheels. What would Reason and Mekiah do when they couldn't find him? What was I going to do?
Ignus gripped my arm and I knotted my hand in his shirt, tempted to hit him.
“Maybe I would feel bad about it, Vic.” His jaw was clenched and I could see hurt flaring in his eyes. “If you hadn't tried to double cross me.”
A snake coiled around my throat. The accusation in Ignus's eyes was enough to confirm my fears. But I managed to push him for an answer anyway. “What do you mean?”
Ignus's lips twitched, his disappointment evident. He wriggled out of my hold, walking away, tipping the remainder of his whiskey down his throat. “Look, I know why you did it. I know you're pissed at me. But you can't set Werewolves loose in my home, Vic. Did you really think they'd get anywhere near your Alpha even if he was still here?”
I wanted to fight, to beat him until he handed back what was mine. Instead, my throat grew tighter and my world shrank around me.
“What have you done with them?” I growled.
Ignus approached me, dropping a hand onto my shoulder with a frown. “You didn't expect me to let two more wolves pass through my hands, did you? They're currently being packed and shipped to the Isle of Lidelse.”
“N-no,” I choked out, my stammer appearing in full force.
Reason...Mekiah. What had I done?
My plan was dissolving before my eyes. I should have known I wasn't canny enough to pull this off.
Ignus wrapped himself around me again. “But you are of course invited to the game. I have a room reserved for you, all expenses paid, considering everything you've done for me, and-”
“Sc-screw you!” I blurted, shoving him back.
“I'll take good care of them,” Ignus implored, seeming genuinely concerned by my reaction. “I didn't want to do it like this.”
“But you d-did,” I hissed, the feel of a python coiling its way around my vocal chords, making it more and more difficult to speak.
Ignus gazed up at me with a look of sorrow. “Come spend the week with me on the new island. I'll make sure you enjoy yourself and, hey, if it doesn't work out with the new wolves I'll give them back at the end of the game, how does that sound?”
I was breathless, my mind whirling. As my heart rate began to settle, I realised I didn't have a choice. I had to play along or I'd never get a chance at rescuing my wolves.
“Yes...yes,” I sighed. “Alright, I'll c-come. Of course I'll come.”
He squeezed my hand with a soft smile. “I knew you'd understand.”