Chapter 11 - Aris

As I walk out into the bright sunshine, Byron is waiting nervously, bouncing on his toes, his mop of blue hair bouncing with him. When I came back to the cabin to check on Linnea, it was still dark, but now the sun has risen up over the trees, washing the area in golden light. I squint against it, my lack of sleep making my eyes more sensitive than normal.

"Oh, hey," Byron says, clearly relieved that I've finally come out. "This way."

I follow him into his cabin to find a projector screen set up on one end and the chairs from all the cabins pulled in so we can all sit together comfortably. I take the seat nearest to the screen, and Byron hits a few buttons on his laptop, bringing the commander's face into view.

Of course, I'm ready to hear what information we gathered and get on with the mission, but this meeting is also a great way to take my mind off the woman two cabins down from us.

As the commander straightens his notes and checks his microphone, I feel the subtle sensation of Linnea's heart rate picking up. My body urges me to go back to the cabin and investigate and ensure she's safe, but I ignore it. She's probably just getting out of bed, easing out of her resting heart rate.

The commander looks even older over video chat like this, and something in his eyes is different than normal. I stare at him, trying to determine if it's just the poor image quality. I wish we were in person—I'm much better at reading people when I can see them face-to-face, smell them, and watch their expressions.

"Good morning, team," the commander says, clearing his throat. "Thanks to all of you and Mr. Cox, we were able to receive the data from Varun's computers and go through the information last night. The situation is a lot worse than we thought."

"We've gathered some evidence about the abuse taking place under Varun's thumb," I say, thinking of what Linnea was telling me, imagining those poor girls losing their futures because Varun thinks centuries-old rules still apply to the shifters in his pack.

"Unfortunately, Varun's abuse of his pack-mates is actually the least of our troubles," the commander says, his brow wrinkling. I sit back, crossing my arms and waiting to hear what could possibly be more important than protecting the shifters who rely on us.

"With the intelligence you were able to send over," the commander continues, "Varun's illegal activity stretches much further than drug trafficking and abuse of his pack-mates. First, we have reason to believe that many of the human abductions nearby are at the hands of Varun and his pack. We are unsure what the reason for this illegal interaction with humans is, and one of our next steps in the mission will be to gather more information about it."

The commander clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "The human abduction problem is also not our highest priority in this mission, however. Byron, can you pull up the image I sent through?"

Byron nods and leans forward, hitting a button on his computer and pulling up an image. Bigby inhales sharply, but the rest of us stare at it dumbly. I turn to Bigby, raising an eyebrow at him in question.

Not good, Man, he telegraphs. That is some nasty shit.

"What you're looking at is a highly complex but unrefined version of a serum it seems Varun has been working on for some time. From what we've gathered, the drugs are just a way to fund what he's really focusing on, which is this serum. Based on the toxic compounds in silver, with a few more lethal twists, this serum is incredibly dangerous for shifters."

I stare at the screen, my heart starting to pound. After a second, I realize my heart has sped up to match the pace of Linnea's, which is still elevated. As much as I don't want to, I'll have to check on her after the meeting.

I refocus on the image in front of me, staring at the twisting compound. Chemical warfare? On other shifters?

We've had enough problems with humans for centuries to be hurting each other. And here Varun is, exploiting his shifters and developing some concoction that would make shifters vulnerable. What could the purpose of it possibly be?

"In the project files and experiment logs for this serum, we can see the chemists are testing the compound's ability to—well, to remove the ability to shift from a being."

Ado stands abruptly, knocking his chair to the ground. When I glance at him, his face is that icy mask of fury that tells me he's thinking of marching right down to the bar now and taking Varun out with his own two hands. Ado might be ruthless, but he can't take on Varun and his entire pack by himself.

Sit down, I project, to only Ado. Trust me, Man, you'll get your chance. I promise.

Slowly and exactingly, Ado rights his chair and sits back down, with his posture as perfect as ever. I turn back to the screen to see Byron has clicked on to new pictures, showing several shifters in what looks like unbearable agony.

"Varun's serum is still in the beginning stages of its conception," the commander continues, "so instead of simply removing a shifter's ability to change and leaving them otherwise unharmed—"

The notion of being "unharmed" is ridiculous. Taking a shifter's ability to change into their other form is like taking oxygen away from a human and claiming they'll be unharmed.

"—That's certainly not what the effects look like now. Shifters have experienced third-degree blistering, internal bleeding, and blindness. Every subject tested with the serum—and we believe many of the test subjects are still being held in Varun's testing compound—has lost their sanity completely."

The room is silent as we absorb this information. Despite myself, I'm once again thinking of Linnea and what it would be like for her to see the people in her pack go through this kind of agony. Out of everything she described to me that she saw at the bar, I'm glad she didn't catch wind of this.

Eva has been sitting back in her chair, arms and legs crossed for the duration of the meeting, but now she leans forward, putting her hands on her knees as she stares at the pictures on the screen.

"And where is this compound?" Eva asks.

"We are unsure," the commander responds, shifting slightly in his seat. "Our data analysts are still working through some of the information you sent, most of which was encrypted."

"We'll put Byron on that, too," I say, nodding to him. He taps his fingers on his laptop and nods back at me, already looking eager to get to the task. "We're not doing anything over here as it is. I think we should start preparing to take on Varun and his pack."

"That's not wise," the commander says, shaking his head and running one hand over his gray stubble. "Varun's pack is much larger than we thought. And with this serum, you'll need better gear and backup. The team should wait where you are until the backup arrives. And, speaking of that—Byron, please send HQ your coordinates so we can send the materials and the additional team members."

Byron turns to me, raising his eyebrows in question. From the commander's expression on the screen, I can tell he doesn't like that Byron is looking for my okay, but it doesn't matter. This team works because there's a clear leader, and that leader is me.

I don't want anyone to know about this place, my family's land, but if it's vital for the mission, I'll do it. I give Byron a quick, almost imperceptible nod, and he turns, typing something quickly into his laptop.

The commander tries to cover the annoyance on his face but doesn't quite manage to, and I hear Percy snicker quietly behind me.

"Which team are you sending for backup?" I ask, knowing we'll need to prep for their arrival. I know a few of the other shifter teams and am friendly with a few of the leaders. Some of the other shifter teams, however, are more aggressive and dominant, more focused on stoking their egos than accomplishing the mission. If it's one of those teams coming, we'll need to debrief on how we plan to work with them.

"That's yet to be decided," the commander says. It's surprising, and I wonder if the other teams are all occupied and if that's why they haven't chosen one to send yet.

"What's the ETA on the backup?" I ask, itching to move forward with the mission. If I'm stuck here around Linnea for much longer, I'm not sure what I'll do.

"I'll be in touch to let you know."

Frustration rises in my throat, and I purse my lips. I just want to get out of here, move on, and get to the next mission. Already, the fatigue isn't enough to sate the constant yearning for Linnea. Rather than across the clearing in her own cabin, it feels like she's much closer. My body wants to go to her. I feel her heartbeat—at least it's slowed now.

My situation with Linnea is a huge problem, of course, especially since we're mated and blood-bonded, but all I want to do is ignore it. I need something to take my mind off the constant arousal, off the fact that she's right there and sitting around with the team. Doing nothing isn't going to help me.

The commander signs off, and we're left sitting in the cabin. Byron has already pulled his computer toward him and is typing furiously, completely blocking the rest of us out. I turn to find four expectant pairs of eyes on me.

I stand and rub a hand over my forehead.

"I guess we're staying here until the commander sends our backup. Let's make ourselves as comfortable as we can. Eva, Percy—there's a small town about twenty miles south. Should be a department store over that way. If you shift and travel through the woods, it should only take a few hours. Take a pack with you and buy supplies—Eva, can you get Linnea some extra clothes? We'll also need lighter fluid, soap, and toothpaste. Check with everyone and see if there's anything specific anyone needs."

"Pain killers," Bigby grumbles, while Byron says, his voice incredibly hopeful, "Energy drinks?"

"That's a good idea," I second, "grab some coffee while you're at it."

"You got it," Percy says, already scribbling down a list on his pad while Eva rolls her eyes.

"Highly trained weapon of death, and I am sent to a fucking Walmart."

"It's just for now," I say. "Trust me, I don't want to be here any more than you do."

As soon as Percy and Eva leave, a jolt of arousal shoots through my body, and I have to lean on the nearest wall until it passes. Ado and Bigby are staring at me. Ado, as usual, has no expression, but Bigby is wearing a mix of amusement and concern.

"Ado," I struggle to get out, "you're back on the perimeter."

Ado nods, seeming relieved to get out of the cabin. I watch him go, then take a deep, shuddering breath.

"Don't stare at me, Man," I say to Bigby.

"You can't go on like this," Bigby says, "I know you think you're hot shit, but even you can't resist nature, pure and simple."

"Fuck you."

Bigby laughs, then tips his head up, sniffing the air. Right as he does, it hits me like a truck, the intense need. I feel my pupils dilate, my heart hammering in my chest.

"What—"

"That explains it," Bigby says, nodding to the doorway, and when I look in that direction, I can smell her clear as day, and though she's not visible, I know she's standing just outside the cabin.

And she smells like sex.

"Get out of here," I say to Bigby, who holds his hands up, standing and moving toward the back door.

"You don't have to tell me twice," he says, as my body moves of its own accord, ripping open the door and finding Linnea there, her mouth in a perfect "O" as she looks at me.

My eyes immediately dart down to her hand, which smells like sex, so potent it's invading my head. I can't think straight.

I grab her wrist, dragging her back toward her cabin, intent on throwing her in there and locking away the key.