Two Mates for a Magistrate (4 page)

But as his afterglow faded, Dietrich found in dismay that he could not hold his wolf in check. Everything he’d ever used to leash the beast failed to contain it. After so many years of confinement, the animal refused to return back to the corner of his mind where it belonged. It snarled wildly when Dietrich attempted to push it back in panic.
Mate,
it said.
Mate. Now.

As if through a dream, Dietrich watched himself push Fritz off him and tear the remaining clothes off his mate. He flipped Fritz on his stomach, forcibly holding him down and exposing the other man’s naked ass. At first, Fritz seemed to take his domination in stride, but then, the human sensed something was not right. He tried to turn, and
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his puzzled, apprehensive voice reached Dietrich’s ears through a heavy veil. “Dietrich, what are you doing?”

The wolf taking over Dietrich’s body didn’t reply. It just held Fritz’s body down. His fangs descended of their own accord and claws emerged. The sight of those claws touching his mate’s skin gave Dietrich strength. He didn’t know how he managed it, but he pulled back the animal. He reached out to it, not with violence, but showing it what it had almost done. The wolf cowered when it realized it nearly hurt Fritz in its frenzy to mate and retreated to Dietrich’s mind.

Once more in control of his faculties and his body, Dietrich collapsed on top of Fritz. His mate scampered away from him and gave him a wide-eyed look. “What in the world was that about?”

* * * *

Meanwhile, at the Hart Compound

“So, you’re saying you’ve found a cure for the virus?” Wolfram asked the human doctor. Andrew stood in front of him, in his white laboratory coat, holding a file that presumably spoke of the research so far. By his side, the man’s two mates, Valerius D’Averam and Trent Hart, watched over the exchange.

Andrew shook his head. “Not exactly a cure, but rather a treatment.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Wolfram arched a brow at the three men. “Come in,” he said.

A blond young man slipped inside the room discreetly. “Hello, Paul,” Wolfram said with a smile. He liked Andrew Blunt’s young son. Paul’s shy demeanor and quiet intelligence endeared him to everyone, including Wolfram himself. In the past seven years, Paul had become a valuable assistant for his father, choosing to continue
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his studies in the Maine compound of the Harts and then aid Andrew in his efforts to defeat the feral virus.

Paul bowed lowly. “Greetings, My Lord.”

Wolfram surmised Paul had come for a reason, so he ushered the young human forward. “Please, continue,” he told Andrew.

“As we all know, the Ebola virus and rabies—which seem components of the feral virus—have a very high death ratio. In the usual human diseases, patients die of severe blood loss and acute inflammation of the brain, respectively. The third component of the virus, however, stabilizes the state of the patient into something more similar to schizophrenia. As we’ve been told, this is because the virus attacks both the physical and the spiritual component of an individual.”

Wolfram nodded at the doctor’s words. He already knew all of this, but he had a feeling Andrew was getting to something else.

“After unsuccessfully trying to attack the diseases that we do know, Paulie suggested we try and separate the genomes of the three components. We knew the third component was vulnerable to silver, as well as the cellular basis of spirit wolf saliva. Sustained treatment is somewhat effective for Ebola virus, and rabies can be treated in its incipient stages. What we managed to come up with is essentially a way to scramble the nucleotides of the three diseases. I admit I was at first reluctant, as we did not know if upon such a maneuver the two other viruses wouldn’t appear by themselves. However, it seems that the key is in the following. The third component of the virus essentially keeps the two diseases in their early stages. If the proper medicine is administered, their effects can be countered.”

“We came up with a serum,” Paulie continued his father’s explanation. “When administered to a feral, it should temporarily hold the disease in check and grant him control of his mental faculties, somewhat like a spirit wolf bite. However, it needs to be taken regularly, otherwise it doesn’t help.”

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“The only actual cure we’ve found is the two-way bite,” Drew finished. “I have my doubts we’ll ever be able to replicate those energies.”

Wolfram doubted it, too, but still, the discoveries of the two humans held promise. “Don’t rush it,” he said. “Put it through every test and make sure it’s safe.”

He almost smiled when he caught a flash of quickly masked affront on Drew’s face. “Of course, My Lord. We wouldn’t use any risky treatment on spirit wolves.”

Wolfram opened his mouth, intending to ask to be shown the serum. But a sharp pain hit the back of his skull, so intense his knees buckled. He’d have collapsed if Valerius hadn’t caught him. “My Lord?” the Judiciary asked. “Is everything all right?”

Valerius’s words began to fade as Wolfram was propelled into a different space. He allowed it to come, his heart heavy with what he knew he would see. He didn’t understand the intensity of this pain, but these visions always hit him whenever a spirit wolf, or even a human, turned feral. It was the last desperate effort of the soul in question, reaching out to anyone that could help. Sadly, Wolfram never managed to help them. Instead, he located them and sent killers to hunt them.

The only time he’d shown mercy had been on Valerius D’Averam’s specific request. He’d allowed Caesar D’Averam’s mate, Linden, to live, in spite of being feral, with the condition. But in the end, it meant nothing. Linden died in a fire ordered by Caesar himself.

To Wolfram’s relief, the two found each other again, in a new life, but the instances when this happened were rare at best. Most of the time, Wolfram’s efforts didn’t help the assaulted humans. Nothing ever did, and now, he’d be forced to bring his hunters upon another unfortunate soul. No wonder the Spirit Mother refused to grant him a mate.

But perhaps, this time, it would be different. Perhaps Blunt’s serum would work. His mental vision began to clear as hope filled him, only to be replaced by shock and horror mere moments later.

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He could see everything so clearly, two men sitting on a couch, in a small, homey apartment. One of them, a gorgeous brunet, was the spirit wolf skirting on the edge of madness. The other, a blond human, stared at the wolf in clear shock. Both of them were Wolfram’s mates.

“Where?”
he asked his own mind.
“Where are they?”
His soul sight promptly replied. Trier, Germany. Wolfram saw even the address of the apartment and knew the identities of the two men.

Dietrich Dupont and Fritz Bauer.

There was no time to waste. Even now, his wolf mate risked falling into insanity. It hadn’t happened yet, but Dietrich’s control hung by a thread, and Fritz’s presence wouldn’t help.

The vision faded, and Wolfram found himself back in the Hart compound. Somehow, he’d ended up sitting on a couch, with a concerned-looking Doctor Blunt staring down at him.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” he said. He hated having these blackouts when others were present. Usually, he had some warning, but this time, he’d been taken by surprise. It couldn’t be helped. At least the people here were reasonably trustworthy.

“Are you certain, My Lord?” Trent asked.

Wolfram sighed. He preferred explaining rather than being considered sick or weak. “Yes. This sort of thing happens when more ferals emerge.”

Paul gaped at him in obvious shock, but his father pulled him away. Wolfram was thankful for it. He didn’t have time for more questions.

Hurriedly, he retrieved his cell phone and dialed Klaus’s number.

His friend answered on the second ring. “Who do we have in Germany?” Wolfram asked in place of a greeting.

Judging by the brief pause, Klaus had already guessed at least a part of the situation. The sound of keys being pressed came through the connection, and then Klaus replied, “Sebastian Morrigan and Marcus Deacon.”

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Wolfram began to feel a bit more relieved. The two were amongst his best men, and it helped that they chose to work as a team, instead of doing so individually. Hunter pairs were created for inexperienced wolves, but these partnerships rarely lasted, much to Wolfram’s dismay. Sebastian and Marcus remained one of the few exceptions that confirmed the rule. They would be of tremendous assistance until Wolfram reached Trier.

“Excellent,” he told Klaus. “Something else, Klaus. I need you to take over all my meetings in the next couple of days.”

“Of course, My Lord.” Klaus sounded a bit startled now. “Is the situation so serious?”

“It is, for me. I will tell you everything soon.” He considered mentioning Dietrich and Fritz were his mates, but decided against it.

He’d do it once they met, face-to-face. Besides, as much as he trusted the people at the Hart compound, he didn’t want to share his own personal emotions with them. They needed the Magistrate, not Wolfram. “And send some reinforcements to Trier, just in case.”

He disconnected the call and dialed Sebastian’s number. With a few efficient commands, he directed Sebastian to Trier. He would send the two men the address later, in private.

As he finished the call with his subordinate, he directed his attention toward the men in the room. “I am needed elsewhere. Doctor Blunt, I’m relying on you and your son to continue your research. It’s imperative that you find out if your serum works as soon as possible.”

As selfish as his thoughts were, Wolfram couldn’t help it. He needed this medicine, in case Dietrich lost his last hold on his spirit wolf nature. “Valerius, Trent, I trust you to guard them with your lives.”

“You don’t even need to say it, My Lord,” Trent replied.

They led Wolfram out of Andrew’s office and then, outside, to the helipad. A voice called out to them just as Wolfram was climbing into the aircraft. He spotted Linden Rivers running toward him, a few seconds before the man’s mate, Ashton Hart, scooped him up and dashed in the direction of the helipad at supernatural speed. They
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reached Wolfram in a few seconds, and Ashton placed Linden down.

The human gave Ashton a thankful look, and then turned to Wolfram.

“My Lord, I wanted to say something before you go. Be very careful. There’s something dangerous awaiting you. I can see it hunting your steps. A man, a black-haired man. A black wolf. You must be cautious at all times.”

Wolfram listened to Linden’s words and nodded. Through some twist of fate, Linden had emerged in his new life with a limited ability of foresight. During the past few years, Wolfram had watched it grow and develop under the care of the young human’s two mates, Ashton and Dan, the latter being a reincarnation of Caesar’s soul. At first, Linden’s power made Wolfram uncomfortable, but now he accepted it with gratitude. Clearly, it was a gift from the Spirit Mother which he could not deny.

“Thank you, Linden. I’ll remember that.”

Dan Lawson appeared on the helipad, followed by the rest of the Harts. They all wished him a good trip and asked him to return as soon as his duties allowed. The patriarch of the family, Grant Hart, offered to send men with him, but Wolfram decided against it.

Klaus’s people would most likely get there at the same time, and the Harts needed their own staff here, to protect their compound. Besides, Wolfram trusted his abilities, and if something happened involving his mates, it was his responsibility to deal with it.

For a few moments, Wolfram’s eyes met Clay Hart’s. Grant’s youngest son nodded respectfully at him, but Wolfram swore he felt resentment in his demeanor. It was very strange, but Clay had always been like that. Wolfram never quite managed to figure out what thoughts passed through Clay’s mind. An odd veil seemed to stand between the two of them at all times, as if Clay consciously shut him out. Sighing to himself, Wolfram smiled at the Harts and promised another visit, then climbed into the helicopter. He couldn’t linger any longer. His mates needed him. Everything else would have to wait.

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As the aircraft took off, Wolfram wondered about Linden’s words.

His mate had been a brunet. Could Linden have seen him? Would Dietrich turn feral before Wolfram could reach him? God, Wolfram hoped not. It would be too cruel for the Spirit Mother to at last grant him this chance, only to take it away.

* * * *

Fritz stared at the man in front of him in dismay. His arousal faded when he’d realized something wasn’t right with Dietrich. At one point, his lover had snapped. Fritz had been thrilled for the loss of control, but now he understood something more lay beneath the calm mask, something the passion between them unleashed.

Dietrich took a few deep breaths, and then reached out to him.

Fritz should have recoiled, but he didn’t. He needed to find out what in the world was going on.

When Dietrich’s hand touched his, it felt odd, and Fritz looked at it almost absently. His blood froze in his veins at what he saw. Claws emerged from Dietrich’s fingertips, real animal claws. Fritz would have thought it to be a peculiar elaborated joke, but those things hadn’t been there a minute ago.

“What the fuck!”

Dietrich winced at the shout, but Fritz was not placated in the least. What in the world had he gotten himself into? This was not happening. It was some sort of weird dream. He’d wake up with a headache tomorrow and realize he’d drunk too much. People just didn’t have claws.

“I can explain,” Dietrich said, his voice sounding growly. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke next, his tone seemed a bit more normal. “I swear I can explain.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Fritz replied. “You should go.”

Dietrich seemed conflicted, his eyes wild and haunted. For some reason, the sight made Fritz’s heart squeeze in his chest. Clearly, the
Two Mates for a Magistrate