Reid

I wasn’t prepared for the conflicting emotions I felt after that quick supply run into town. I was a single-minded individual. I knew what I had to do, and I got it done. No questions, no doubts. Simple and effective.

There was nothing simple about Alyx Laskaris.

Case in point: I felt both relieved and worried as I watched Alyx leave for work later that afternoon. On one hand, I was relieved that she was gone, because knowing she was physically within a hundred yards of where I now stood was torture. Leaving her in Grace’s kitchen had taken a huge amount of willpower. My wolf had wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back with me. To appease my beast, I’d kept the scarf she had left in the Jeep. That would be the same scarf I now buried my face into, selfishly and foolishly inhaling her sweet, mouthwatering scent.

On the other hand, I was also worried because she was not physically within a hundred yards of me. Out of sight of my watchful eyes, out of my immediate protection.

That was another thing—this unfamiliar, feral, clawing possessiveness. I told myself it meant nothing; protecting others was part of my DNA. Besides, I wasn’t wired to be idle. With this forced downtime, it was only natural I would create a mission for myself, right? Alyx just happened to have the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time to wind up in my sights.

My wolf called bullshit, insisting she was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, because she was mine.

I told my wolf to shut the fuck up. There was more to the situation than that. There had to be.

It was clear to me that Alyx and her grandmother were close, but Alyx wasn’t living over Grace’s garage because Nowhere was the place to be. I recognized someone trying to keep a low profile when I saw her. Something, or more likely someone, had Alyx spooked, and Grace was worried enough to try to enlist my help.

Like I said, I had nothing better to do. I would look into things because I could, not because of what my wolf believed. Even if he was right and Alyx was my mate, I couldn’t do anything about it. The life I led was not conducive to binding myself to anyone, and I refused to allow myself or anyone else to become a target simply because my animal wanted her.

Glad that I had settled that, I ignored my sulking wolf and opted to continue my objective research.

Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since I’d called in a couple of favors. More than enough time to compile intel on a regular citizen like my neighbor’s granddaughter.

I wasn’t disappointed.

I had no sooner fired up the secure SAT link than my inbox started filling up with responses to my earlier inquiries. I clicked through them, one by one. Within a few short hours, I had a complete dossier.

Alyxandra Maeve Laskaris, twenty-six years old, born February 13^th. Daughter of the late Jack Laskaris, Jr. and his wife Elysia (Quirke) Laskaris, killed five years earlier in a suspicious house fire. The fourth of five children. Her younger brother, Christos, had died from a brain tumor at the age of seven, when Alyx was just nine.

She had attended secondary school outside of Maple Heights, Ohio, where she finished with a perfect 4.0 average; higher if weighted by the Advanced Placement chemistry and biology courses she had taken. She had been barred from her graduation ceremony, however, because of her refusal to change some questionable passages in her valedictorian speech. Immediately afterward, she had attended the University of Pennsylvania on a full scholarship, provided by the Chamberlain Biomedical Research Foundation, with a paid internship during the summer semesters.

I stiffened when I read that. The name rang an unpleasant bell. There had been rumors that CBRF had been behind the private, underground facility we’d taken down only weeks earlier. The one that had been doing testing on shifters in an attempt to isolate and synthetically recreate what made shifters so much stronger and faster than their human counterparts.

Like I said, we made damn good soldiers.

As if on cue, my leg started aching again, a painful reminder of the horrible things I had witnessed before laying waste to every one of those sick bastards. The possibility that Alyx had anything to do with that made the bile rise in my throat.

Forcing down those thoughts, I read further.

After her third rotation in the CBRF labs, Alyx had withdrawn from the program. With only one year to go, she had walked away from the scholarship and returned to Ohio, where she enrolled in the nursing program at one of the state university campuses. With credits transferred from the U of P, she earned her Bachelor’s degree in Nursing less than two years later.

Over the next four years, she moved no less than five times, working in hospitals around the country, primarily in pediatric oncology units. Her most recent job change had occurred only two months earlier when she came to Nowaskannock.

When I finished reading everything, I sat back and rubbed my eyes. I had learned a lot, but I still didn’t know what had Alyx hiding out in Nowhere. Worse, I had even more questions than when I’d started. Some of the biggies: Did she have any knowledge of, or participate in any of the shady experiments taking place under the CBRF umbrella? Why had she given up her scholarship and switched from biomedical engineering to nursing when she had been so close to completing her degree? And what was behind the frequent moves and job changes?

Two things I knew for certain. One, I would get answers. And two, CBRF was the key.

The first thing I needed to do was find out more about Alyx’s time with CBRF. Who had she worked for? What kind of work had she done? I didn’t want to believe she could have had anything to do with the secret, unethical experimentation on my kind, but I wasn’t naive enough to dismiss the possibility entirely. If my experiences had taught me anything, it was that anyone was capable of anything with the right incentive. We all liked to think we were better than that, but the truth was, we weren’t. Everyone had a weakness. For some, it was self-serving, like power or money. For others, it was the people they loved.

Which was exactly why I made sure I didn’t have those vulnerabilities. Exactly why I couldn’t give in to my wolf’s insistence that Alyx was the one. The moment I acknowledged anything, she would become my weakness.

Unfortunately, my wolf didn’t give a shit about any of that. He wanted Alyx. Naked, marked, and wrapped around my cock.

By dawn, the sky was heavy with snow clouds, though the weathermen insisted the impending Nor’easter was still several hours away. Unable to sleep, I paced back and forth across the living room, my wolf pawing in concern. Alyx should have been home hours ago.

It wasn’t just the weather that had me concerned. I had spent most of the night looking more into Alyx’s connection with CBRF. There wasn’t much in the way of useful information. She’d worked three semesters in a division devoted to oncology research and, by all accounts, she had done well. There was absolutely no indication she had been involved in anything remotely questionable, which was both good and comforting, but not iron-clad proof that she hadn’t been.

What bothered me was the name of the person she had worked for—Roger Chamberlain himself. Grandson of the company founder, Roger Chamberlain III was a wealthy, arrogant, entitled little bastard. While Roger I and Roger II seemed to have built the company on a platform of optimism, scientific excellence, and sound ethics, Roger III had apparently decided those things weren’t profitable enough and had expanded into other, shadier areas.

Not long after Roger III had assumed control of the genetic research division, CBRF had been awarded a huge government contract. The details were sketchy at best, buried beneath mountains of paper trails which inevitably led nowhere. I didn’t have concrete proof, but a sick feeling in my gut told me that he, and that contract, were behind facilities like the one we had shut down.

I debated whether or not to send the information back to my CO. We had no way of knowing if the facility we’d destroyed was the only one, or if there were more out there we just hadn’t found yet. Chances were, we’d set them back by razing it, but none of us were naive enough to believe that was the end of it. Any hunter knew that to destroy a snake you had to cut off the head, and Chamberlain was still out there, slithering around somewhere.

Ultimately, I decided against reporting anything until I knew more about Alyx’s involvement, or lack thereof.

Was it a questionable call? Sure. I rationalized it away by telling myself that I had nothing beyond vague circumstantial evidence and a hunch. Definitely not enough to warrant an official inquiry, especially after the legal shitstorm that last op had brought down. If my CO suspected I was poking around Chamberlain when I was supposed to be off the grid, I might just find myself on permanent leave.

It was nearly seven a.m. when I finally saw the light go on over at Grace’s. I counted off ten minutes before picking up the phone. After another five, I sat in my neighbor’s cheery kitchen, eyes alert for any sign of Alyx. I had called Grace using the excuse that I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed to weather the storm. Grace, however, hadn’t been fooled for a minute and invited me over for coffee, just as I had hoped.

“Alyx often works double shifts,” she said knowingly as she placed a steaming mug in my hands. “Sometimes, if one of the kids is having a hard time of it, she stays even longer.”

Grace sat down at the table across from me with a cup of her own. “Her brother died of cancer when she was very young. I don’t think she’s ever quite gotten over it. For years, she told everyone she was going to find the cure for cancer.” Grace smiled sadly. “With her intelligence and her passion, I believe she might have.”

“Might have?”

“Nursing wasn’t her first choice. Biomedical engineering was. She was thrilled when she received a full scholarship to an Ivy League school with one of the top-rated programs in the country.”

Of course I knew all this. The black and white of it, anyway. Grace didn’t know that, though, and by listening, I might be able to fill in some of those gray gaps.

“What happened?”

A shadow passed over Grace’s face. “I don’t know all the details. However, I can tell you this ... It changed her, Reid. She hasn’t been the same since ...”

“Since ...?” I prompted.

“Since they discovered just how special she really is.” Grace shook her head. “I’m sorry, Reid. I can’t say any more than that. Alyx is a very private person. But you understand that, don’t you?”

Special. The way she said it implied more than intelligence and passion. The way she looked pointedly at me implied she knew I wasn’t exactly normal, either.

I met her gaze. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

She seemed relieved. “Maybe, someday, you can confide in each other.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

“Anyway, things have a way of working out. Alyx is touching a lot of young lives, making a difference. There’s one boy in particular she has grown quite fond of. His name is Dylan. No one expected him to make it through Christmas, but he’s still hanging on. She spends a lot of time with him. I imagine that’s why she’s running late today.”

I looked out the window again. The driveway would soon be covered, and road conditions would only continue to deteriorate. I certainly couldn’t begrudge Alyx spending time with a little boy with cancer, but I worried for her safety.

Just as I was about to suggest driving to the hospital to give her a ride home, I heard the hum of her cycle. Another glance out the window confirmed Alyx was home, gliding her bike down the driveway in a controlled skid. The wave of relief I felt was substantial.

Alyx didn’t even look toward the house, though she must have seen the lights on.

“Oh, dear,” Grace murmured as she, too, watched her granddaughter through the window.

The older woman placed her small hand on my arm. Unused to such familiar contact, I tensed. She pretended not to notice.

“Alyx takes it hard when one of her kids isn’t doing well,” she explained. “The trouble with having such a big heart is that it gets broken easily.”

I wasn’t sure if her words were meant as an explanation or a thinly veiled warning.

“Is there anything we can do?”

Grace shook her head. “No. She needs some time. She’ll come out when she’s ready. The most we can do is be here for her when she does.”

It wasn’t lost on me that Grace said “we,” instead of “I,” nor that I had, either.

I waited for the protest to rear up inside me, but strangely enough, it didn’t come.

I nodded and drank my coffee, accepting the wisdom of the woman who knew her granddaughter a lot better than I did.