Connected: Chapter 9 (Patreon)

Chapter 9

Camille

Even lying on my cot and staring up at the ceiling, I heard Palmer’s bare feet slap down on the floor in his cell and then patter toward the door. “Chow time,” he said happily. 

I lifted my head enough to see two guards coming down the hall, pushing a tray of food for those of us who ate. They fed us regularly, but the clumsily thrown together slop of meat and soggy vegetables wasn’t necessarily something to look forward to. They weren’t feeding us nearly enough to satiate our wolf appetites either, but I sat up to prepare. One guard held his rifle toward me while the other opened my cell door to set a tray of food on the floor. They moved on to Palmer’s cell, instructing him to return to his cot before they served his tray the same way. 

The moment his door was shut, he hurried over and sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling the tray into his lap to eat. I strode over to my own, carrying it to the glass and sitting down next to it so I could feel like I wasn’t eating alone, and Palmer scooted closer. I poked at the stale piece of bread that I was supposed to use as a spoon for the slop, since they wouldn’t give us actual utensils. It was rock solid, and I wasn’t really looking forward to breaking a tooth as I poked it again. 

“You’re supposed to eat it,” Palmer teased. 

“You don’t say…” I mumbled. I scooped some slop up with the bread and shoveled it into my mouth, then washed it down with some water. “I don’t even want to know what’s in this.” 

“It’s not so bad,” he said through a full mouth. “And the full moon’s tonight. I need all the energy I can get to stay sane.” 

I watched him swallow another eager bite, glad at least one of us was enjoying it. “You should meet my sister.” 

“Yeah?” 

I hummed. “She’ll eat anything.” 

“Sounds like my kind of girl,” he laughed. “How old is she?” 

“We’re twins,” I said, forcing down another bite of food. “Not identical.” 

“So…” 

“Nineteen. How old are you, anyway?” 

“Twenty-one,” he answered. “Or, I’m pretty sure,” he added, since he’d been here so long, “my birthday’s in July.” 

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “it’s almost September.” 

“Shit, really?” he asked. I gave a grimacing nod, and he sighed. “Even if I can never shift again, I’d kill just for some fresh air.” He cast a playfully wary look at me and said, “Not literally, though…” 

“Of course,” I smiled. He seemed to be in a good mood considering he was in for a world of torture tonight, but then again, it wasn’t bad yet. I felt the pull of the moon in my blood too. It was only a restless energy, but it would get worse as the day wore on. “Are you going to be okay tonight?” 

He shrugged. “I’ll probably be better off than you. You’re going to be miserable even if you shift.” 

“Thanks,” I huffed. 

He finished off his food and washed it down with a chug of water, and then said, “Actually, I’m kind of glad you’re here. Having someone to talk to will help take the edge off.” 

“At least it’s not forever,” I said. “Marion should finish the cure soon.” 

“Doesn’t do any good as long as I’m trapped in here.” 

“If I’m getting out of here, you’re getting out of here,” I told him. “And I am getting out of here.” 

Palmer pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them as he shook his head. “I’m not even sure what to do with myself if I get out of here.” 

“If the Alpha thinks you’re in control, you could go home.” 

“Missouri isn’t the home it used to be,” he said, hanging his head. “My dad’s afraid of me. Even if I lived with him again, I’d be just as alone there as I am here.” 

“Eli’s taken in mutts before,” I said, “maybe he’d let you stay too.” 

“With the Pack?” he asked. I nodded. “I don’t know… What would I do there? What’s even there to stay for?” 

“Other wolves to run with.” I shrugged, watching two sets of guards come into the corridor. “Good food.” 

“Your twin sister who likes to eat,” he added teasingly. “Is she cute?” 

“A cute pain in the ass, maybe.” 

Palmer laughed, but both pairs of guards stopped in front of our cells. “I’m glad you two are getting along,” one of them said. “Let’s go.” 

“Both of us?” Palmer asked in surprise. 

“Yeah, both of you,” another one said, punching in the code on my cell’s lock, “now move.” 

Palmer passed me a look that was as wary as I suddenly felt. They’d never brought us both out at the same time, and the last time I’d been out with another wolf, his head imploded. We didn’t have much choice but to do what we were told, so we let them cuff us and lead us out of our cells, down the corridor, and out into the main hall. They took us to the infirmary where Marion was already waiting. 

“Which one you want first?” asked the guard with his rifle pointed at my back. 

Marion pointed at me, so the other set of guards undid one of Palmer’s cuffs and threaded the chain through a sturdy pipe set in the wall, locking him to it. My guards pushed me toward the exam table and then exited after Palmer’s, leaving us alone with Marion. The moment they were gone, Marion let out a heavy sigh, and I didn’t like the look on her face. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Full moon’s tonight,” she answered. 

“Yeah?” 

“The pull to Change is stronger for Palmer…” she said. 

That didn’t mean much to me, but Palmer muttered, “Oh, shit.” I passed him a confused look. “They’re going to put us together and see if the threat of you under Serum Twelve is enough to force me to shift.” 

My face paled. 

“It gets worse,” Marion whispered. “You’re not fighting each other. The connection serum was successful on two wolves that didn’t already have one. You’re going to be fighting them.” 

“What?” I asked. “Why?” 

“They’re testing all of you,” she explained, her voice shaking because she knew as well as we did how deadly this whole situation could be. “Palmer’s resistance to Change, your control over the aggression, and their harmony as a team.” 

“They can’t do that!” I snarled. 

“I’m so dead,” Palmer murmured, gaze dropping to the floor. 

“You have to Phase,” I told him. 

“I can’t.” 

“You have to try.” 

“I’ve been trying,” he snapped, “I can’t.” 

“He’ll get ripped apart if he can’t Phase,” I told Marion. “Give him the antidote.” 

“It’s not ready,” she said, her voice and soggy eyes full of apology. 

I growled, dropping forward to press my forehead against the cold steel table, trying to ease my growing panic enough to think. “Fuck, okay,” I breathed. “Okay.” I breathed and squeezed my eyes shut and thought for a minute. “Okay. As long as the other two wolves are there, I think I’ll have enough control to direct my aggression, so I’ll attack them instead of you. You just have to back into a corner and stay there. Let me deal with them.” 

“Then you’re dead,” Palmer protested. “I can’t let you fight on your own.” 

"You have to," I told him. "If you’re in skin, you’ll only be in the way. I just… I won’t hold back. I’ll fight hard.” With any luck, I’d survive it, but it seemed the most I could hope for was hurting the other two enough that they couldn’t go after Palmer if they killed me. 

“I can’t let you do that for me,” Palmer said. 

“You don’t have a choice,” I argued. “What are you going to do? Punch one in the nose?” 

“If I have to.” 

“I could kill you myself!” I shouted furiously. I hadn’t been given the serum yet, but I was scared and angry and the thought of being responsible for Palmer’s death was terrifying. My skin was itching, my blood burning with remnants of rage and the beginning pulls of the full moon. My hands were trembling, and I inhaled a weak breath and blinked the collecting tears from my eyes. “I can’t have your blood on my hands, Palmer.” 

“I might be able to help,” Marion offered, pulling a syringe out of her pocket and holding it up. “Methylphenidate, I swiped it from the chem lab.” 

“For me?” Palmer asked. Marion shook her head. 

“What’s it do?” I asked. 

“It’s a stimulant…” 

“You can’t give her that!” Palmer protested. “The serum already messes her up. You’re trying to kill her.” 

“I’m trying to save both of you,” Marion said. 

“What’ll that do to me?” I asked. 

“Put simply,” Marion said, “speed everything up. Two against one when they have a connection isn’t a balanced fight, but this might give you an edge. Normally you’d burn through it quick, but I laced it with a trace of wolf's bane.” 

I glanced over at Palmer, but his lips were pursed like he was holding back more disapproval. “Will it kill me?” I asked. 

“No,” she answered, but then squinted unsurely. “…Hopefully not…” I took in a deep, stressed breath. “Listen, Butcher doesn’t need you anymore – he knows how to produce a connection now. But he’s got two wolves under Serum Twelve with a successful one and he won’t be ready to let them go. Not before he studies it more. If it looks like you’re going to win this fight, he’ll end it before anyone dies. I’m just trying to save as many lives as I can.” 

I shut my eyes tight and weighed my options. If I didn’t take the drug, I’d lose the fight and maybe get Palmer killed too. If I did take it, I might last just long enough for Butcher to decide the testing wasn’t worth losing a few good subjects. “Okay,” I held out my arm, “do it.” 

“Not yet,” she said, putting it back into her pocket. “I’ll do it just before you go.” 

“What are we doing here?” I asked. 

“I’m supposed to check your vitals. Make sure you’re healthy enough to fight.” She passed a brief glance over both of us. “You are, and so are the others.” 

“Marion…" I murmured, "do I stand a chance?” 

She sighed. “I really don’t know.” 

That was it then. My life hanging on a maybe. Maybe that drug would give me an edge. Maybe I’d be fierce enough, fast enough, strong enough. Maybe I’d survive. I glanced toward Butcher’s office with an already budding sense of defeat, telling Marion, “Be my lookout.” She didn’t protest, simply nodded while I strode in and to that phone on the desk. I picked it up and dialed Kyla’s number. It rang. And rang. A handful of times so that I thought no one would answer, but then on the last ring, someone did. It wasn’t Kyla. “Abby?” 

“Thank god,” she breathed, “we weren’t sure if you were okay after that headache.” 

“Kyla felt it?” 

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Sorry I answered her phone. I thought it might be you and didn’t want to miss it.” 

“I’m glad you did,” I told her. I’d been hoping to get Kyla, but hearing Abby’s voice was a relief of its own. “Where is she?” 

“In the shower washing off a long night.” 

“Is she okay? What happened?” 

“She’s fine,” Abby said. “We tracked down that Council employee and it didn’t pan out like we hoped. We’re going to try again with him in a bit.” 

“It might not matter,” I said quietly, trying not to sound as hopeless as I felt. “I’m about to get a third injection, and they’re going to make me fight. I don’t…” I swallowed hard around the lump of fear in my throat. “I don’t know if I can win it.” 

She was so silent that I could practically hear the dread sinking in. She took in a deep breath and said nothing for a long span of seconds, and when she finally did speak, her voice was shaky. “Do you want me to go get Kyla?” 

I’d wanted so badly to hear Kyla’s voice, but talking to her would mean telling her that it might be the last time. “No. Don’t say anything to her, I don’t want her worrying more than she already is. She’ll probably already feel it if… and then I need you to be there for her.” 

“You’re not going to lose.” 

“I might.” 

“No,” she said firmly. 

“Abby-” 

“No. You are terrifying, do you hear me? You’re fierce, and dangerous, and I know you hate that about yourself, but you need it. You’re going to fight like hell and you’re not going to lose because you can’t.” Her voice broke, and her sternness was gone as she sniffled. “Please, you can’t.” 

I blinked rapidly to clear the tears from my eyes. Humor. That’s what she needed, even when she could see right through it. “You sure know how to pressure a girl.” 

She gave a soggy laugh. “You sure know how to make a girl worry.” She sniffled again, clearing her voice of tears. “I’d take care of Kyla, you know I would. But don’t fool yourself into thinking she’d be the only one heartbroken.” 

“Careful,” I said. “You’re starting to sound like you’d miss me.” 

“I would,” she said seriously, and I could hear the hesitation in her tone when she said, “Camille, I…” But she stopped short. 

“What?” 

There was a breath of silence before, “I do miss you.” 

My lips pursed with a sad smile, and I squeezed my eyes shut to keep any more moisture from building in them. “I miss you too.” 

“Was that a sentiment?” she asked as teasingly as she could. “I’ve been blessed.” 

“Shut up,” I huffed. “I already decided I’m haunting Luna if I die, but I can make an exception for you.” 

But she didn’t laugh at that. “Camille,” she whispered. “Please…” 

"I promise," I said. "I'll fight like hell." From out the window and across the lab, Marion waved at me that time was up. "I got to go. Be safe." 

"You too." 

I hung up and rushed out of the office, taking an unassuming seat on the exam table. Butcher walked through the lab doors a few seconds later, but he was talking on a cell phone and hardly spared a glance our direction. "I need an elemental," he said into the phone. There was a pause as he strode toward the office. "Any kind, it doesn't matter." Another pause. "What's the address?" He disappeared into the office, his voice coming out muffled through the door. "Give me his number then, I'll ask him myself." 

Knowing he could see us through the window, I pretended not to be listening while Marion made a show of starting my checkup. 

Butcher must have hung up and started another call, because his quiet voice said, "It's Butcher. I was told you might have an elemental in your possession." A longer pause. "It is necessary for the defense of non-threatening species." Pause. "Because certain threatening species are vulnerable to elements... Yes, I'm ready... I'll call you when I'm on the way." 

He came out of the office and to where Marion was standing, taking in the fierce scowl I was giving him with content. "Are you ready for one of your final tests?" 

"One of them?" I asked. He simply smiled at me. "Why do you keep trying to make us kill each other?" 

"Because you don't want to kill each other," he said coldly, and glanced over at Palmer, "and you don't want to die. And I want the serum to have absolute control." 

"The Pack is going to hunt you down," I threatened. 

"I hope so," he said, putting his hands into his pockets like he wasn't concerned about me attacking him. "I could use more subjects." My upper lip curled, but the wound in the back of my neck and the idea that he might have a weapon in his pocket gave me the control to hold back. "Are they ready?" he asked Marion. 

She nodded, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets as he turned for the door of the lab. He didn't notice that, as he did, a small piece of sticky paper came out of one pocket too. It fluttered to the floor, and whatever it was, it might be something important. Might be our only chance at some information that could tell us where we were. Before Butcher could turn around again and notice, Marion hopped forward, stepping on the paper and hiding it beneath her foot. Butcher turned at the movement of her getting closer, and he looked at her with suspicious expectation. 

"Uh," she breathed, "maybe I should check the other two, one more time?" 

He narrowed his eyes at her, dismissing her request as another petty care for his subjects, and turned around again to open the lab door. Marion used that brief moment to pick up the paper, but we didn't have time to read it, and she shoved it into her pocket as Butcher said to the guards outside, "Bring them to the observation room." 

Palmer's guards came in to retrieve him first, while mine waited for the room to clear a bit before getting me. In those few moments while Palmer was being uncuffed from the pole, Marion stepped closer to my back and murmured so quietly no one else could hear, "Don't react." And the next moment there was a sharp prick in the back of my shoulder, followed by the uncomfortable pressure of an injection. 

The guards led Palmer out, and mine came forward to snap the handcuffs over my wrists. They took us both from the lab, and it wasn't five steps into our journey down the hall that I began to feel the stimulant Marion had dosed me with. My heartbeat sped up so much that I felt the throbbing of my pulse all the way to my fingertips. I felt it beating behind my eyes and thumping loudly in my chest, and it was such an uncomfortable rate for such an easy walk. Every echoing footstep, every distant opening or closing door, every sound put me on edge. I felt everything. The itch of the scrubs I was wearing, the cold tiles sticking to the bottoms of my bare feet, the clammy sweat that started in my hands. My skin was prickling, a sensation that worsened in sensitive places like my palms and lips and neck, and it wasn't the prickle of Change. I was so alert in so few seconds that I was anxious. Restless. Aware of every movement and sound around me, and maybe Marion was right. This might just be the edge I needed to survive. 

They took us to a room like the one I’d been put in when they tested my connection, but there was no glass divider between halves. This time, they didn’t care if we hurt each other. The other two werewolves were standing in their handcuffs with their guards, wearing scrubs just like mine and Palmer’s, but they looked at us when we walked in. And they smirked. One of them was tall and broad, with a massive chest and the cold kind of blue eyes that said he wasn’t afraid to put his brawn to use. The other was only a little shorter, but he had to weigh about a hundred pounds less than his partner. He was lanky, and while his partner’s gaze had been no less threatening, his brown eyes were wild and alert. There was no telling where Butcher had picked up these wolves, but one thing seemed clear by the amusement in their smiles as they sized up Palmer and me – they weren’t as worried about killing us as I was about killing them. 

Butcher’s familiar voice sounded over the speaker. “Remove the restraints and administer the serum.” 

Palmer and I were uncuffed at the same time as the other two, and I requested again that they let me remove my clothes first. The other two started doing the same. 

The bigger one hadn’t stopped leering at me, and as he tossed his shirt into the corner, he glanced up toward the speakers, and then at the observation window. “About time you let me fight the Pack wolf.” He was talking to Butcher, but then he looked at me again and said, “You’re why I volunteered.” 

A willing subject? I knew there was an underbelly of mutts who targeted Pack wolves just to brag about the kill; that’s why Eli’s wife had been targeted, especially as the Alpha’s mate. I never expected Butcher would be able to recruit, but what if he could reach beyond just these two mutts? What if he could recruit plenty of mutts who hated the Pack? What would that do to us, and to the balance of wolves? “Two on one,” I said sarcastically, “what an accomplishment.” 

His upper lip curled as he kicked out of his pants. “Dead is dead.” 

I shed the last of my clothing and shook out the stimulated tingling in my hands. Knowing at least one of my opponents was a volunteer, and that he had no objections to killing me, it made this easier. I peered over my shoulder at Palmer, tossing a deliberate glance toward the corner of the room. It was with obvious reluctance that he backed up. 

The guards stuck the needle of an injection gun into me and the other two at the same time, and then hurried out of the room. The first snap of bone came moments later, and more accompanied yelps of pain as all three of us began the forced shift. It was no less painful, and no quicker than the first two times. The stimulant Marion gave me only seemed to make it worse. It gave my body more focus to fight what it didn’t want, to fight the Change, and every crack and tear of bone and muscle was infinitely worse, even though I tried to give in to it. I didn’t think it possible, but even the rage was worse in my drug-induced restlessness. 

It was almost over, the Phase almost complete, but as the last of my fur sprouted, something crashed into my ribs. The smaller of my opponents had already finished his Change, and his teeth found purchase in my back as my Phase finished and we rolled across the floor. I shook him off and gained my feet, wheeling on him in a flash of fangs as he came at me again. The bigger one joined the clash, and my fight for survival began. 

We were a roiling mess of fur and limbs and teeth, snapping and clawing and drawing blood at every swipe. I was hyper aware of every new drop of crimson, and the smell of it, the stimulant, the pull of the moon, and the fact that I was outnumbered only heightened my lust. I’d never felt fury and determination like it. I was focused, but the only thing I was focused on was blood. Pumping in my veins and their veins, my desire to see more of it, smell more of it, spill more of it. 

I did everything I could to get more, acting on pure furious instinct because I couldn’t think or plan or calculate. When I got taken down by the bigger one, I whipped my head and slashed his shoulder, and he sank his teeth into my chest as if to rip straight through to my heart. I hardly felt the pain, but I swiped with my hind legs, raking my nails deep down the underside of his belly as I kicked him off. The speed of my drug-heightened senses had me reacting to the smaller one before I consciously realized he was diving in. I caught him with my front limbs before he could get his teeth into my neck and rolled, pinning him under me as I snapped at whatever I could get in my jaws. A chunk of his ear came with me when the bigger one plowed into me, ramming me off him, and we returned to a bloody and deadly tangle. 

Their connection was evident in the way they moved without communicating. One knew when the other would strike, and even if I managed to get in some blows of my own, they moved so in sync it was like they were everywhere. The moment I wrestled out of one’s jaws, the other was there, clamping down somewhere else. I was covered in seeping holes and the occasional tear, but they hadn’t ripped me apart yet. The adrenaline of the stimulant Marion gave me and the muscle memory of my training were the only reasons I was still alive. I was tireless and more agile than I’d ever been, and it was helping me last just long enough to match every drop of blood draw for draw. 

I was fighting like hell, but they were larger and there were two of them and they had the connection. It was only a matter of time before they got the upper hand. The bigger one snagged my hind leg and pulled it out from under me, whipping his head so hard that it flipped me onto my back. The smaller one pounced, rushing in from the side and slipping his jaws over my neck. All he had to do was bite down and yank, and he’d tear my throat beyond repair, but a dark blur flew through the air just as his teeth started closing. Palmer’s human feet connected with the wolf’s ribs so hard that the crack of breaking bone echoed in my ears. The wolf’s teeth left my neck as it was thrown off me, but I didn’t get to be grateful. 

All I cared about was blood, and as Palmer scrambled out of range of my teeth, the bigger wolf let go of my leg to make a dive for my soft and exposed stomach. I kicked to throw myself onto my paws, managing to slash across the wolf’s face as my claws tore through his left eye. It left him distracted for a long enough moment that I lunged, taking him down as I ripped at whatever parts of him I could. 

The other wolf recovered, but Palmer didn’t let him back into the fight. He threw himself at the wolf, screaming in pain when the wolf slashed through his scrubs from shoulder to breast. But it didn’t stop him. He elbowed and kneed and clutched at handfuls of fur, taking gash after gash to his unprotected skin until he’d battled himself onto the wolf’s back. He wrapped his legs around the wolf’s torso and his arm around its neck, squeezing tight so it couldn’t get out of his hold as he cut off its air. 

I hadn’t stopped tearing into the wolf beneath me, taking advantage of his blinded left side and constantly laying into him. He didn’t stop fighting, and probably wouldn’t have until he had too little blood left to try, but then a panicked voice yelled over the speaker, “Sedate them! Sedate them all!” 

Just like Marion had said, Butcher wasn’t willing to sacrifice the wolves with the connection. The panels beside the observation windows slid open, and out came rifles aimed at us. A sedative-filled dart struck me in the back, and its effect was almost immediate, making me drop off the wolf and fall onto my side. The other three went down the same way, and before giving in to the darkness, I tried to remind myself when I woke up to thank Palmer for saving my life.