Jackson
Captain Jackson Wolfe sat gingerly down on the ancient office chair, afraid that it might collapse under his weight at any moment. It wasn’t that he was particularly heavy. He was actually in the best physical shape of his life, but the chair was so ancient that it looked like it might disintegrate if the sun’s rays hit it too hard.
Luckily, the chair held. It was actually more comfortable than he had expected and it had lasted him the entire week without falling apart so far. He leaned back tentatively, listening for a squeak of hinges that would foretell his doom, but the chair held. He let out a slow sigh, glancing around at the small room.
This “office” in the Records Building of Fort Baskerville was small. The Army had given it to him to work out of while he was here. Truth be told, it wasn’t much more than a glorified broom closet. There was the ancient chair with an equally old wooden desk, an Army cot that looked like it had been made in the 1970’s, and piles of brown boxes full of paperwork for him to work on. There was only a tiny vent of a window letting in the last of the fading light from the sunset. It wasn’t much, but at least he didn’t have to share it. Being in close proximity to another human being was something that he wanted to avoid as much as possible at the moment.
Jackson rolled his shoulders, trying to straighten out the hunch in his back from leaning over old files for hours at a time. In his new job as a Psychological Operations Interrogator, files were a part of his job, and despite the fact that they were boring, for once he was actually glad to have them. He had requested to be sent somewhere stateside and out of the action while they evaluated his case.
His eyes glazed over as he thought of the reasons he was here. He knew that the fire had burned the bodies, but there were still questions. Still investigations. He had stymied them as much as he could without arousing suspicions, but he knew that there was a chance he could be found out.
His superiors sent him to Fort Baskerville to go through files while they cleared him to go back to duty. He hoped he could just stay with the files for the rest of his career. The files gave him a job to do without having to be around humans. Without having to be around people he could hurt.
The fading light shone across a single picture frame sitting on the edge of his desk. It was the only thing he had unpacked since arriving, leaving the rest of his box of personal effects in a corner under as many boxes as he could pile on top of it. The one picture was enough. It was the real reason why he was here.
Wolf Squad. The men in his unit had been the only family he had, ever since his own parents had died years ago. They were nine men that had trusted their lives to him. They had spent two and a half tours in Afghanistan together. They had teased him that being “Wolf Six,” captain of Wolf Squad, was simply fate for the handsome Captain Wolfe. Several of them had even gotten tattoos of a wolf’s head onto their chests or biceps.
The men had loved him and trusted him with their lives. Captain Wolfe’s intel was never wrong. They had such faith in them that they used to say that Jackson was a walking, talking polygraph machine. That he could smell a lie a mile away. His brain shied away from the memory like it was still made of fire. It was his uncanny ability to be able to detect the truth that had destroyed them all.
They were gone now. They were gone and he was here, having to face exactly what their loss had done to him. Had made him. Things were different now and he had no idea how he was going to survive.
***
Jackson's head rested on his arm like a pillow, his face twitching as he fell into the nightmare that always seemed to come as soon as he closed his eyes. He had his hand fell to his side, sending the papers on the desk into a gentle shower to the floor.
***
A high pitched whine of empty sound hummed in Jackson's ear. He watched a bullet whiz by overhead, but all he heard was the ringing of his own head. Everything was made of smoke and sand, and it took him a moment to put himself together. He shook his head, dazed as he struggled from the ground. The sheikh’s house was gone. The Rocket Propelled Grenade had done its work. Sergeant Dearden twitched beside him, and sound came roaring back.
A bullet pinged against what was left of a wall and he felt a strange twinge in his shoulder. Jackson grabbed Dearden's flak-jacket, dragging him behind the thin safety of the wall. A man came screaming toward them, an old rifle in his hand. Wolfe barely had time to raise his rifle before Dearden shot him. The man crumpled to the ground.
"Getting slow, Wolfe," Dearden joked. Jackson's mouth twitched up. He had to get what was left of his squad out of here. "Uh, Cap'n... I think you're bleeding."
Jackson looked down to see blood seeping through the gray uniform on his shoulder like a red flower. Pain blossomed as he realized that had been shot. He turned to look back at Dearden just in time to see a bullet crash through the sergeant’s face.
Red streaks filled his vision. His breath came in small pants and the hair on the back of his neck stood up straight. Rage pumped through his veins, coursing like gasoline and burning through every inch of his being. His body slumped to the ground as the intensity of the pain stole his breath. He twisted and writhed in the sand, smearing blood with dirt and rock.
He started to howl.
***
With a roar, Jackson bolted upright and brought his fists down on the desk. His eyes glowed with a fire from the past and the ancient desk split in two. Splinters of wood littered his office. Panting, struggling to maintain his form and regain control, he sat back in the rickety chair, not even bothering to baby the thing. It stood up to the abuse, letting him slowly recover his senses.
Probably afraid it's going to end up like the desk, he thought, trying to put some humor into his dark mood. He was just glad that no one had been around. What if he had been sleeping next to someone? He could only imagine the disorder his little outburst would have caused if he had been sleeping in the barracks with other soldiers. He could have killed someone.
With a shaky hand, he wiped the sweat from his brow, rising to his feet to inspect the damage. He didn't need to turn on the light. His eyes were as good in the dark as they were in the light. To him, the room was as clear as if it were noon, though he knew he shouldn't be able to see his hand in front of his face. Just one more thing that was taking some getting used to.
The desk was halved completely into two big pieces and a lot of little pieces. Papers scattered across the floor. He gingerly picked up the photograph that had set on the desk, glad to see it wasn't broken in the fall. The picture remained the same. Ten sets of eyes staring out at him, smiles on their trusting faces. He set the picture up on some boxes where it would be safe. The men watched over him from their perch as he bent to pick up the scattered papers and files.
It only took a minute to stack the files into one giant pile. He'd have to go through it tomorrow and duplicate some of the work, but at least it would give him something to do. He was incredibly grateful that the little room was far enough away from the main base that the noise of the cracking table hadn't alerted the guards to come investigate.
The desk was ruined. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain how it had split in two, but with its rickety age, he hoped they would believe that he had simply fallen on it. He couldn't see any indentations from his hands, so at least the story would seem plausible. He rubbed his forehead with his hand, feeling the frustration at his condition welling up again. He wished there was someone he could talk to. Someone who could explain what was happening to him and teach him how to live a normal life without worrying about breaking tables in the middle of the night.
Jackson took a deep breath and unlocked the door to his office. He wanted some air. A walk outside along the perimeter of the base was just what he needed. The cold winter air was sure to clear his head. He didn't bother to pick up his jacket; since the transformations had begun, he had found that he didn't get cold.
A hot-blooded monster... He shook his head to clear the thought. That wasn't what he needed to focus on right now. He needed to let the monster inside of him settle from the nightmare and then he could either go back to work or risk sleep again. At least I can’t make the desk worse...
JacksonJackson stepped out into the hallway, pausing for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim hallway light after the dark of his office. He looked left then right, trying to decide what direction to take. Toward the Records Room or toward the vending machine. The vending machine sounded like a better idea. He took a deep breath and took exactly one step in the vending machine's direction before freezing in his tracks.A scent hung in the air that made something primal in the pit of his stomach tighten and ache with joy. The hair on the base of his skull tingled and his eyes lit up with a golden fire. He could barely detect it, even with his enhanced senses, but what he could smell was something that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.He gave a smooth about-face, sucking air into his nose to try and fill himself with the scent. It was flowers and sunshine with just a touch of something that made him start to ache with want. His feet carried him forward, his nose pulling i
ChloeChloe was breathless and shaking as she slid across the tattered red vinyl seat into her favorite booth. The 24-hour diner was quiet with only a single other customer at the counter eating some pie. It was the perfect place for her to look at the file and still be in public. Something told her not to go home just yet, so she listened to the little voice inside her head. It was usually right about stuff like this.She peered across the room at the dark window, but the sidewalk outside was empty. A cold wind blew a breath of snow skittering across the street, but no one appeared. She shook her head, telling herself she was being paranoid. No one knew about the hole in the fence. No one but the one handsome soldier had seen her, and he wouldn't have followed her here. It surprised her that she half wished he had; the way his eyes had almost glowed gold in the dark, the way they had followed her, the strength of his arms under the uniform..."You're just high on adrenaline," she whi
JacksonThe reports on the newly replaced desk in front of Captain Wolfe blurred yet again. Jackson was glad that the new desk was of stainless steel this time; his chances of breaking it accidentally were much lower. He had managed to reorganize most of the files from the night before, but now that he was trying to read them and concentrate, he felt his mind drifting. All he could think of was the dreams of her. For once the nightmares of his transformation in Afghanistan had been held at bay; instead he had dreamed of her. The curl of her hair against her neck. The perfect smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Her scent floated around in his memory like a welcome ghost, making him smile unconsciously as he remembered it.His whole life, Jackson had an enriched sense of smell. As a teenager, he had been surprised to learn that not everyone could smell the things he did. It was something that he utilized in his interrogations. He could smell fear. The trickle of bitter sweat that
JacksonJackson sat next to the corner window overlooking the main quad. From his position he had a clear line of sight to the library, the science building, the student center entrance, as well as the rest of the coffee shop. The coffee was warm in his hands and he had surprised himself by ordering it with cream and sugar; he usually liked it black.He didn't look out of place among the students. Slightly older, perhaps, at twenty-eight years old, but there were enough graduate students that he didn't stand out. Watching the freshmen working feverishly on their projects at the table next to him reminded him that he had gone a very different path. West Point with a degree in Psychology was not the easiest course load through college, but he had done it. It was how he had gotten to where he was now.The door chimed and he turned from the window to have his world flooded with golden warmth. She was here. Chloe walked up to the counter to order a coffee to go. He tried not to stare, but
ChloeChloe had finally dozed off about an hour after getting home from the diner, her hair spread out against the pillow like a halo. She twitched once as she settled into a dream, her mouth curling up into a smile.***She was in room lined with red velvet. There was a bed and a window, but the most important part was the fact that there was a man in the room with her.He was shirtless as he looked out the window. The muscles on his back were long and lean and begging her to run her fingers along them. A small, thin scar ran along his flank, but it didn't detract from his sculpted perfection; rather, it added to it.He turned as she stepped forward, a smile brightening his handsome features. Dark hair and dark eyes pulled her toward him like a magnet. She smiled back. She knew him. She loved him. She had always loved him. He was her Captain Wolfe.The man reached for her, his fingers threading into her hair as he pulled her into his lips. She pressed her body against his, desperate
JacksonHe raised his eyebrows and looked at the file still on the table. "You get those files to Dr. Vincelli?"Chloe felt the hot rush of blood to her face at being called out at the lie, but she didn't back down. A low growl reverberated from beside her and she was surprised to see Dr. Turner with a menacing expression on his face. She didn't know that her sweet professor could look terrifyingly deadly; she was just glad that he was focused on the intruder and not her with that look on his face.The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. The two men stared at one another in a silent battle of wills, ready to fly at the other at a moment’s notice. Dr. Turner stepped forward, effectively shielding Chloe from Jackson. Chloe knew she needed to break the tension before one of the men decided to do something stupid.She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as both men turned with brown eyes flickering to golden. "Hello again, Captain Wolfe." She was just glad h
ChloeChloe heard the click of the door as Dr. Turner opened it and she hurried back into her chair, whipping out her phone and playing with her home screen icons. Wolves? She thought that the two of them talking about wolves and changing was incredibly confusing. She finally decided that she just must not have heard them correctly. That was the danger when eavesdropping in the first place.The two men walked back into the room as though nothing had happened, but at least the she didn't feel like lightning was about to rip through the room. Captain Wolfe was looking much calmer and Dr. Turner was again behaving like his usual self. It was as if the entire first portion of their meeting had been all in her imagination.The Captain sat down in the chair across from Chloe, his brown eyes settling on her and making her feel as though he could see right through her. She was having a hard time not checking him out to see if he looked in real life the way he had in her dreams. Dr. Turner lea
JacksonJackson turned away from her captivating green eyes to see four men in dark clothing emerge from the alley. Their faces were covered with ski masks, but he could smell the violence building on them. He had smelled that same scent, heard that same heartbeat in Afghanistan. It was from a suicide bomber walking into a town square with the detonation trigger in his hand.Jackson's eyes flashed golden. There was no way these thugs were going to hurt a hair on Chloe. He would rip them to shreds before they could ever even lay a finger on her perfect skin. He turned back to Chloe, putting his hands on her shoulders."I'm going to need you to do exactly as I say, do you understand?"She nodded quickly, fear starting shimmer in her eyes as she glanced over his shoulder at the approaching me."Good," he said, taking her chin in his fingers and drawing her attention back to him. "I need to you stay behind us. See that dumpster over there? I want you to go to it. Protect yourself at all c
Jackson"I woke up in a medical tent with perfect memory of what had happened. I never told a soul what really happened until now," Jackson finished. "They had to tie me down at night because I would have nightmares about it. I struck an orderly once and broke his jaw."He watched Chloe's face, trying to gauge her reaction. Her face was unreadable, only a slight frown creasing her forehead. The insides of his stomach knotted up, afraid she was going to tell him to get out. It had felt good to tell someone the truth, but now that he was finished, he was afraid."You were afraid you were going to hurt me, weren't you? That's why you pushed me away at first?" she asked. Jackson nodded."I don't want to hurt anyone again. Especially not you."Chloe reached out a gentle hand, her fingers caressing the curve of Jackson's face. She smiled. "I knew from the moment I met you that you would never hurt me."He kissed her hand, relief flooding through him. She didn't hate him. She pulled lightly
One year earlier: Kandahar, Afghanistan"He hasn't spoken to anyone yet, sir," the armed guard outside the tent said."Good," Captain Wolfe replied. He chambered a round in his own pistol just in case things got crazy in there. "Is the video equipment set up?""Yes, sir. The doctor said it was a pain in the ass to work around, but he knows the difference between a request and an order."Wolfe nodded. He pulled the flap back from the tent and took a quick look inside before pushing the flap back into place. He had recognized the doctor, his enlisted nurse, and the man handcuffed to the bed was obviously the prisoner, but..."Who's the fourth guy?" Wolfe asked."He's the guy who brought him in. An Afghan National Army officer named Actor, I think?"Wolfe nodded. "Akhtar." He had heard that Akhtar had helped Americans in the past, one of the only ethnically Pashto officers in the region.Wolfe pulled out his notepad and began to walk into the tent. The younger soldier stopped him. "Will
ChloeChloe sat by the window overlooking the courtyard wrapped in a big quilt she had found on one of the beds. She had let the fire go out in the cabin but the warm sunshine coming in through the windows was keeping her toasty and comfortable. She had genetics books spread out on the table in front of her, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She kept glancing out the window at every sound, hoping it was Jackson coming back.A knock on the door startled her. "It's open!" she called as she attempted to untangle herself from the blanket."Hey, Chloe," Blake said, opening the door and kicking the snow off his boots before stepping inside. She beamed up at him, finally escaping the clutches of the quilt.Blake wrapped her up in a big bear hug, popping her back in the process. She still couldn't believe how strong he was. Or that he was a good three inches taller than when she had last seen him. He had changed quite a bit, but his green eyes were still the same. She knew that ev
JacksonJackson walked casually onto the base after being dropped off a quarter mile down the road. He showed the gate guard his ID and began walking toward the parking lot with his truck. The snow was almost melted and dead yellow grass lay in strange patterns as he walked across the field to his truck.As he came closer to the building, he could see yellow tape blocking off the main entrance, and numerous Military Police vehicles parked along the edge of the building. The smell of acrid electrical smoke and water hung heavy in the air. It made Jackson's nose itch. A guard stood at the corner of the building, waving away anyone coming toward the medical center. Jackson could hear him tell a group of soldiers that the medics were now located in the chapel for the time being.Jackson sauntered over to the guard. The guard gave him a polite nod, noting the rank on Jackson's uniform as he straightened. He rendered a quick salute.Jackson returned the salute lazily, as if telling him that
JacksonJackson sat in the warm sunshine on the front porch of the councilor's cabin. The snow was beginning to melt, though there were reports that it would snow again in a day or two. He ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, telling himself he needed to get it cut. He also needed to shave, but his razor was back on the base.He checked his watch again, as he had every thirty seconds or so for the past ten minutes. Quent was supposed to come and take him back to Fort Baskerville so he could pick up his truck, but Jackson was half-hoping Chloe would wake up and come out of the cabin before Quent arrived.He wanted her to come out because he wanted to see her. Wanted to see her reaction to him shifting last night. She had pressed her hand to the glass and smiled, but he needed to see her in his human form to be sure she was okay with him. He wasn't sure that in her situation if he would be okay with seeing the person he was sleeping with turn into a wolf.He hoped she
ChloeThe evening sun hung low in the sky, slowly dipping behind the mountains as it were tired. The sky was awash in purples and reds with thin clouds making abstract and beautiful designs in the sky. On the other end of the sky from the sun, stars were starting to dot the navy blue heavens and the moon was beginning her full rise to glory.Chloe sat at the window, watching the sun and moon shift places. A friendly fire crackled in the small councilor's cabin and she had a cup of tea on the table beside her. The cabin was meant to hold camp councilors during the summer months. As such, there were three small bedrooms, one bathroom, a utility kitchen, and a small table with four chairs next to the big window overlooking the center courtyard. Chloe could see the sun fading into to the west from the edge of the window, and the moon ascending in the middle.The moon had been in the sky for much of the day, hanging low but still visible. She had asked why they all weren't shifting since t
ChloeChloe awoke warm and in a strange bed. She sat straight up and promptly bumped her head on the bed above her. She swore and held her hand to her head as she carefully maneuvered out of the bunk bed. The fire still crackled in the fireplace next to her, but sunlight shone through the high windows of the cabin, filling the room with morning light.The door with the crescent moon on it was indeed a bathroom, which Chloe took her time using. She even found a comb and managed to coax her hair out of the giant rat's nest it had become and back into a usable ponytail. She found her coat and shoes stored neatly by the front door and stepped outside.Snow had continued to fall through the night and the entire camp sparkled with fresh snow. The trees wore blankets of thick white and the ground glittered in the sun. Chloe took a deep breath in of clean, winter air and smiled. Today was going to be a good day.She could hear the sounds of laughter and yelling, so she followed a path beaten
ChloeChloe struggled under her brother’s weight, but she didn’t slow down. She followed Jackson and Quent as they carried the other two soldiers down a short, dark hallway and out into the snow. Jackson found the van easily enough, and they quickly pushed the tired soldiers into the back.The cold night air burned her lungs as she gasped for air. It wasn't just the exertion from carrying her brother that had her gulping down mouthfuls, it was everything that had happened in the past thirty minutes. She glanced at her watch, shocked that it had been less than a half hour for everything she had just seen to happen. Thirty minutes ago, she was still looking for her brother and the Colonel was still alive."Get in the van, Chloe," Jackson coaxed, putting a hand on the small of her back and helping her into the open back. The three soldiers sat with their backs against the side of the van. Chloe stepped inside and Jackson carefully shut the door behind her. She could hear his feet crunch
Jackson"No one is putting my brother back in there," Chloe stated, rising to her feet. She had just spent the last six months of her life searching for her brother, and now, after finding him hooked up like a lab rat in a tank, there was no way she was going to let him go.The gun swiveled in slow motion to point directly at her. She squared her shoulders and raised her jaw. She looked Colonel Bronn right in the eye and saw only a lust for power. She wished she could have had more time with Jackson. A muscle in the Colonel's cheek twitched as he pulled the trigger. Chloe closed her eyes.A heartbeat later, she was still standing. She almost didn't dare to open her eyes, afraid that the bullet would just be closer, but she did.Standing in front of her, snarling, was Blake. His brown hair grew longer by the second and fur erupted along the edge of his shoulders, poking out from the now ripped seams of his jacket. She could see the fear in Colonel Bronn's eyes as a beast of his own cre