Hannah Pole - Song Of The Wolf

Maker, Mother of the Earth – Where in the world was she?

The place was completely deserted. The room held very little bar the weird floating submarine. The water was salty, and filled the air with the distinct scent of seawater. The waves lapping against the surrounding steel were nothing in comparison to the crashing waves she could hear outside.

There was a desk with a kettle on it and two cups, a sink and a small fridge and that was literally it. There were a set of metal steps leading up to the balcony and beyond that was the great outdoors. And oh Maker, the sunlight that flooded through the cracked glass windows was like water to the parched. She missed its warmth, had craved its light for oh so many weeks, and now it was blessedly shining down upon her she felt tears of joy sting her eyes. She was almost free! She was so close she could taste it.

Surely if she could see the sky, it meant she was far enough above ground for her GPS chip to get signal?

Snapping herself back to reality, Alison sternly told herself that she was not safe yet. She was sure that there would be more brutes in this godawful metal building somewhere and she hadn’t the strength to fight them.

Cursing at the rusted metal biting into her hands, she dragged herself to the fridge and cracked the thing open. There was little in there; milk that looked as though it had gone off weeks ago and some stale bread. She didn’t care though; she palmed the bread and bit into it. She felt as though she hadn’t eaten properly in weeks. She wolfed the stuff down, pulling herself up on the sink and washing it down with some blessedly clean, cold water. She washed her face and paused, giving her stomach a moment to digest the small offering.

Though it was only a minimal amount of food, Alison could already feel her body strengthening. She would never feel as strong as she once had been. Her body was slowly decaying but she couldn’t help that. For now she was just glad of the strength some sustenance gave her and revelled in the feel of the sun on her skin. Even so she couldn’t help wistfully thinking about her life before the former High Lord.

The new High Lord was no better, that snivelling bastard might not be as creepy as the last but he was still a decaying Magi on a power trip.

Where the last High Lord was a true vampire, who had also been born Magi, the new one was a born Magi who had been turned vampire by the former High Lord. His body, needless to say, hadn’t weathered the change well.

And he was utterly disgusting. Alison couldn’t help internally cringing at the memory of her time with that male – if you could call him that.

She pushed the memories aside, telling them exactly where to ‘stick it’ as her brother would say. Alison carefully made her way over to the metal steps. At least she was on two feet now, though she couldn’t help staggering slightly as wave after wave of exhaustion hit her. She quietly made her way up the steps, her heart in her throat. Sheer terror washed through her at the thought of how many more tombs may be up there. She doubted she could take anyone on now and survive. Her limbs were trembling so badly she had to grip the handrail, hard, to keep herself steady. Her legs shook with every step and her stomach threatened to spill its meagre contents. Alison reached the top of the steps, her jaw dropping open as she scanned the area. She staggered over to the doorway, thrusting it open. There she fell to her knees, the mother of all screams ripping its way out of her throat.

It wasn’t more tombs she had to be worried about. It was this.

The open-air space she’d found herself in was absolutely empty, not a damn person in sight. Not a damn thing in sight. Not a damn bit of land in sight.

Maker save her! She was on a rusted metal oilrig in the middle of the sea.

Panic and despair washed over her as she realised how far out to sea she must be. Hell. The endless blue waves went for miles and miles, she was so far away from any land that she couldn’t even make out any country she might be near. Alison was well and truly in the middle of the ocean.

With tears streaming relentlessly down her cheeks, Alison sat on the edge of the metal framework. Any energy she might have had was well and truly gone, any hope of rescue she may have had squashed. She felt absolutely crushed. She was alone, cold and terrified in the middle of the goddamn ocean with no hope of salvation.

As Tamriel reached Dax’s glass-fronted fortress, she couldn’t help but gasp in awe. The mirrored glass reflected the forest around it perfectly, making it blend seamlessly into the trees. Unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t know it was there. That male was a genius but he was damn paranoid. Only a wolf with that much intelligence and that much paranoia would build a fortress that not only blended so well into its surroundings it was nigh on invisible but anyone inside could monitor every square inch of land surrounding the fortress through the glass.

Every panel of glass doubled up as a computer monitor.

She reached the part of the building that she knew as the door and placed her hand against the small square section she knew as the scanner.

It had taken her weeks to work out which bit of glass was which. It all looked the damn same. There was a brief moment in which the red scanner went to work on her palm, scanning each fingerprint, before there was a subtle click and the panel of glass that made up the door slid open, allowing her entry. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. The only reason it allowed her access was because Dax had overridden the initial security check from the mansion. No one was allowed in his personal space without explicit consent from the wolf himself.

Dax needed to see Doc; hell, he was beaten and bruised. The male had a damn gunshot wound in his shoulder and still it had taken all of them to force him into the medical clinic. He absolutely refused to be treated, he was furious when they had forced him to and had only calmed down when Tam had offered to go to his house and get one of his spare laptops and a phone so he could check his search engine and his GPS monitoring equipment. Bloody stubborn male. Though she knew he was right, they couldn’t waste time, and Maker only knew none of them wanted to be far from the equipment Dax had designed, in case Alison’s chip showed up.

Once Tam was inside, the first security hurdle over, the door slid shut. She was caged inside the bulletproof glass box that was the entrance to Dax’s house. She punched the four-digit code that he had given her into the metal keypad on the side, and then pressed her hand against another scanner. The code was another override, no one could get in or out of Dax’s fortress without him personally authorising it. Because he wasn’t here and didn’t have his phone, she had to bypass the system apparently.

The keyboard flashed again, signalling her to put in the next code. She hastily typed in the next set of digits, at which a small box popped open with a microphone in it. Tam sighed and rolled her eyes as she held her phone up to the speaker and pressed ‘play’.

“Override authorisation code.” The recording of Dax’s voice sounded out from the tiny speaker on her phone. “Willing recording. Code 0-1-5-3-2-6-7-9. Allow access.” There were a few seconds of silence while the little computer reviewed the complicated process Tam had just gone through, before the word ‘Accepted’ flashed up on the little monitor and the interior door slid open.

Tam huffed again, walking through the glass panel and letting it slide shut behind her. She felt more trapped in this damn fortress than she had on that boat. Wolves were not good at being in confined spaces and a boat seemed like hell to her. This ‘house’ felt more like a prison; she had absolutely no idea how Dax managed to live here.