Berman's Wolves: Berman's Wolves, #1

Prologue

JUNE 2012, GRADUATION Day

Winter quarter of 2010 changed my life forever, though I had no idea at the time. I was plugging along, getting my business degree, dreaming and dreading the day I would graduate and join the real world.

That day is here now, and I find the completion of my college years much less daunting than it was two years ago. After all I have been through over the past few years, graduation seems more like a drop in the bucket than the life-altering event it is supposed to be.

My roommate, Lyra, bought me this journal as a graduation gift. She knows the nightmares that wake me several nights a week. She sits up with me in silence when the memories of what was done to us won't let me rest. She knows I worry about what I will do now that I will not have her empathetic presence with me. That is why she bought me this journal. She herself has her own demons that stare her in the face at night. She told me time and time again that her journal is sometimes the only thing that stops her from losing her mind. So, she bought me one almost identical to her own and told me to fill it.

Start from the beginning, she advised. You can tell it anything and everything. But start with the madman who ruined your peace of mind.

So here it is. The story of how my life was changed by someone I still have never met. A new instructor was hired at Pacific Northwest University, where I attend. I am told the chemistry department was thrilled with their new hire. Doctor Nicholas Berman was in his mid-sixties and had worked with organizations all over the world.

Once hired, a meeting was scheduled to gain student feedback. Berman apparently won over many of the students by saying, After years of experiments, it is time for simple research and reflection. He was unanimously accepted. Students found him captivating and candid. Seniors fought to be on his research team. It wouldn’t be until May that the school’s folly would come back to bite them. Little did they know it was all a front for a more sinister agenda.

Berman, as it turned out, planned a human experiment at the school under the noses of the administration. How they could have missed this was beyond me. But after all the lawsuits that ensued, I bet they will never be so careless again! Over the decades, he’d all but perfected his research in undocumented trials. He fooled those at Pacific Northwest University as well as two other neighboring universities. This is one of the baffling parts for me; he gained positions at three local universities, all under different names and false backgrounds. How did no one catch this sooner?

He was at Pacific Northwest University that horrible night in May, but webcams kept him in contact with the labs at the other two schools. His calculations turned out to be off just slightly, but the assistants at the other schools copied exactly. To this day, no one can ever convince me that those calculations were anything but intentional. I do not care what the government investigation says, Berman knew what he was doing. The chemicals hit the air, affecting every living soul in the science buildings and through the opened windows to any person within a quarter mile.  

At Pacific, it hit those of us studying in the library. At Southern West, it seeped into the Students Union Building, where a charity rock concert and an interdenominational Christian group were held. The University of the Peninsula is much smaller than the other schools, so everything on campus was closed down.

I still remember that night as if it were yesterday. Lyra, Justin, and I were sprawled out on one of the large group work tables. Lyra and Justin were exchanging resources for the final papers they had for their shared lit class. I was trying desperately to cram as much stats as I could into my head for my final the next Monday.

I remember Lyra's head shot up first. She had gone dead silent, and her expression of horror is burned into my brain.

Get under the table!

It was a loud whisper, but Justin and I didn't question it. We dove. Not two seconds later, there was a boom that shook the building—something you won't see in the official reports—books and papers sliding to the floor. I could hear my heart in my ears. My eyes locked on Lyra and grabbed her hand. The rest of my body was frozen. She looked me in the eyes as we heard people downstairs start coughing.

Hold your breath as long as you can!

Justin and I nodded. We had no idea what was going on, what was about to happen to us. I just remember the terror and the deep-seated knowledge that something very bad was happening.

Seconds later, the panicking people around us were coughing and running downstairs. My lungs started to burn. Then people began collapsing. I squeezed Lyra's hand, but she didn't squeeze back. She couldn't comfort me in those moments because there was no comfort to give. I knew something was wrong with the air. But I was starting to see those black spots.

Then I heard Justin gasp. I turned my head, eyes watering, fear roaring through me. He grabbed hold of both Lyra's and my other hands. I couldn't help it, as the cries and struggling in the library started to quiet, my lungs screamed for breath and I gave in. Air filled my lungs and my body screamed with relief.

At first nothing happened. Then my lungs began to itch. I started to cough, and distantly I could hear Justin coughing with me. My lungs began to burn. Then I blacked out. The whole thing could not have even been five minutes, but it seemed like so much longer.

The government took control while we were out, locking down the campuses and quarantining those affected. Every one of the five hundred and twelve students were removed and bussed to a facility east of Seattle. All that time, two-thirds of us, myself included, were still unconscious. Everything I know about the transport is what I heard from Lyra and others.

Lyra came to still in the library, but there were men in hazmat suits around her. Her body was a giant nerve ball of pain. I was lucky enough to have been out for this period. There were about fifty students that I have talked to who woke while the poison was still changing our bodies. All of them have said it was the most painful thing they ever felt in their lives.

Lyra told me later that she was not even aware she had been screaming until a hazmat suit walked up to her and gave her a shot. To this day, she doesn’t know what was in it, but it brought the pain to a tolerable level.

She told me that when they started moving all of us to the more secure location, she would not let them separate the three of us. They told her she couldn't go with us because she was conscious, and we were not. She never went into details on how, but eventually she won and was able to travel with us.

When I woke up, three hours after I passed out, Lyra was standing next to the cot I was in, crying and gripping my hand. She rarely ever cries, so that scared me, once the relief of us both being alive passed.

Tell me. It was all I could get out, my voice hoarse.

The fear started to creep back, growing like a weed. Lyra explained to me what she had learned. That it was an experiment gone wrong. She told me about how we had gotten there and that she had overheard several doctors talking about possible genetic mutations. Berman disappeared in all the pain and confusion. Government officials were interrogating the fourteen research assistants. None of the students were admitting to having knowledge of Berman’s whereabouts. What little notes the government found mentioned something about Berman’s goal to create werewolves. The scientists suspected that somehow Berman figured out how to create the mythical creature with the use of modern medicine.

Lyra paused before looking past me. Justin seems to be fine, but we won't know for sure until he wakes up. While I waited for you to wake up, I snooped around and noticed something. Her breathing shuddered then and her grip on my hand tightened. Seth and Jack were in the library too. They were downstairs.

My heart broke. Jack and Seth were our friends. We had known them as long as we had known Justin.

Where are they?

She tilted her head and motioned behind her and to the left. About three rows that way.

My eyes became glassy. Are they okay?

Her breath hitched. I don't know. They're still sleeping.

We can't leave them here.

Her eyes steeled and seemed to dry instantly. Her whole body changed before my eyes. We won't.

She made sure we didn't. When the doctors cleared me to be moved to the waiting area, Lyra fought vigorously. She made sure all of the doctors and staff knew we were not leaving that room until Justin, Jack, and Seth were awake.

Hours passed after the five of us were cleared and moved to the waiting area. The tension skyrocketed as the scientists began breaking people up and sending them to other parts of the facility. I lost it. The emotional toll hit me like a truck. Lyra hugged me to shield me from the room and let me cry into her shoulder. I couldn't be separated from my friends. I didn't know how I could cope without them.

Then I heard Lyra's voice in my ear. Her word was not meant for me. I knew that as soon as my brain processed it.

Taylor.

I knew by her voice that she was looking at her cousin's best friend. They grew up together, almost like siblings. I felt her stiffen a second later as a gruff voice told the five of us, we were being moved. I swear she stopped breathing before there was a whispered, No.

As we moved, I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, there was Taylor, standing maybe twenty feet away, watching us leave with anger in his eyes.

We were taken to a room with nine other people already in it and were left there for another hour, waiting to hear our fate.

The government assigned us into groups known as packs to make us easier to handle. As it turned out, a psychologist on the program had stated we would probably be more willing to go along if they kept us in the groups, we clung to in the waiting room.

In the months after the incident, two downtown Seattle office buildings were erected for individual packs to use. Putting all of us in one place made it easier for the scientists to keep tabs.

Over the next year, we were put through tests and training programs. Those in charge tried to figure out how to best use us. We were werewolves struggling to get our bodies under control. We knew little more than they did about what we would be capable of.

After the first year, disputes broke out among the scientists about how to proceed with the program. While they fought, most of us graduated and began to organize ourselves.

Fast forward another year and it was my turn to graduate. Along with my entire pack, actually. None of us are sure what to do now, but at least none of us have to do it alone.

Chapter 1

LYRA KNEW THE WERES who jumped her were members of Pack L, former lab assistants of Berman’s from Pacific Northwest University. They hadn’t tried to negotiate this time but had simply jumped her as she turned the corner on her way home from the off-leash dog park in her neighborhood.

As soon as she smelled her attackers approaching, she turned to Hazel and pretended to have lost her cell phone. Hazel hadn’t questioned it, just taken Fizzgig’s leash from Lyra’s outstretched hand and continued walking to Lyra’s apartment.

Lyra double-timed it toward the park. She knew her attackers would follow. All she needed was enough distance between them and Hazel. Lyra loved Hazel like family, but the other woman was not a fighter. Hazel would try, but she would only be hurt or used against Lyra. It didn’t really help matters that Hazel and Lyra knew all of each other’s secrets. In Lyra’s case, some of those secrets could get them killed.

Lyra knew leading the attackers away from Hazel and the dogs was her best and only option. As the outskirts of the forested trail closed in around her, Lyra spun and braced herself for the attack. She could smell the malicious intent like rotting meat rolling off of them. She had one advantage: they didn’t know how well she could fight. Growing up in a predominantly male social group, Lyra had honed her skills. They thought girls were weak. They would underestimate her. Lyra gave a small grin as the three weres came into view around the bend.

Lyra posed as if she’d been caught off guard and was helpless, widening her eyes and shrinking away in horror. The tallest guy headed toward her. She counted, waiting until the last second when his arms stretched out to grab her. She roundhouse-kicked him in the head. They were crumpled. Weres could take and dole out major damage, and Lyra was stronger than most. The blow landed perfectly, and he’d be out of commission for a few minutes.

The other two men didn’t make the same mistake; they rushed her. Lyra backed up. She needed more room than the thin nature trail provided. She was able to get one punch into the guy on her left before the other man grabbed her.

Panic began to rise as a strong arm banded around her throat. Screaming to herself, she pushed the panic aside. She struggled to remember the course of action for this type of attack. Using the heel of her shoe, she stomped on her attacker’s foot. Inwardly, she swore as she connected with a boot—she couldn’t do any damage that way. His arm tightened, and she knew he meant for her to lose consciousness. That would be bad. She felt the loss of breath acutely and knew she had maybe thirty seconds to get out of the hold before she was incapacitated.

She gave one swift kick behind her as she dug both her thumbs at her throat to relieve the pressure. Her kick hit true and her attacker cried out as her heel connected with groin.

She felt the man back up and she moved in the opposite direction, scanning for the were she’d punched in the stomach. She didn’t see him, not at first, but what she did see made her curse.

Two of her larger packmates, Ryan and Cole, stood nearby. At Cole’s feet was the missing attacker. Ryan dropped the other man, the one who had been choking her, to the ground. All three attackers were unconscious and bleeding. Lyra might be strong and fast, but both Cole and Ryan were leagues beyond her.

Both men were watching her now. Ryan was staring at her neck in fury. Lyra knew it was red, but there was not much she could do about it. It would clear up within five minutes. Accelerated healing was a plus of being a werewolf.

Cole found his voice first. He was six foot six and built like a house; the Samoan was already intimidating without being a werewolf. Cole kept his hair cut close to his head. He was the largest and strongest in the pack, but he wasn’t alpha material despite his physical qualifications. Cole was too laid back and quick to smile, but when someone was threatened, he could be incredibly dangerous.

What’s going on, Lyra?

His voice held a threat, but Lyra knew it wasn’t for her. Cole was far too overprotective for that. Normally she would lie, say she had no idea, but Pack L had actually attacked her this time, and she couldn’t keep this to herself anymore.

Lyra looked at each of them in turn. To be totally honest, I’m not entirely sure.

Ryan folded his arms over his chest as he opened his mouth, but Lyra held up a hand to stop him. She didn’t know why, but Ryan always had a knack for knowing when she was lying. He didn’t always call her on it, but he made sure she was aware of it.

What I do know is that a few days ago, two members of Pack L approached me on my way to work. They told me they had a deal to offer me. They wanted me to switch packs, and I don’t mean switch teams for the coming soccer season, I mean actual packs.

Both men stiffened. Lyra could feel the outrage rolling off of them. Weres were intensely loyal to their packs. Those from stable packs would never think of leaving their packmates. Lyra took a deep breath and continued, I told them where they could put their offer and walked away. Apparently, they don’t take rejection well.

Lyra saw Ryan’s lip twitch, but he wouldn’t admit his amusement. Ryan prided himself on his stoicism. Ryan was six foot three. His light brown hair was shaggy, but short, and he had pale greenish-yellow eyes. He could seem pretty intimidating, but standing next to Cole, he almost seemed small.

Was there any preamble to the attack? You knew they were coming. Don’t try to deny it. You don’t come to this park without your dogs.

Sometimes Lyra hated that Ryan was so observant. She couldn’t help her glare.

I smelled them coming. Hazel and I were walking the dogs back home. I told Hazel I had dropped my phone. She’s at my place by now. I doubled back; I didn’t want to endanger her or the dogs.

Ryan watched her a moment. He was the second in their pack, which gave him some authority. Only Jack, their alpha, had authority over him.

Do Hazel or Jack know about these encounters?

Lyra fidgeted. She didn’t want to worry anyone; she didn’t see the point in sharing things that would only cause panic. She hadn’t even told her cousin Graham, and they were incredibly close.

Ryan read her silence. I see. He turned to Cole. They’ll attack her again and come with reinforcements. We should watch her.

Cole nodded once. Agreed.

Lyra opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. She knew full well they were right, but she hated the idea of being babysat. Plus, the last thing she wanted was for this to get back to Jack. Jack was a good friend of hers, had been for years, but he was a worrier, and he had enough on his plate right now.

Twelve-hour shifts? I’ll take tonight and you relieve me in the morning. If they get the idea that Lyra is protected, they should back off long enough for us to figure out what it is they want with her. The authority in Ryan’s voice prevented any argument.

Cole nodded again before motioning to the three unconscious men. What about them?

Ryan seemed to think about it a moment, then smiled. Payphone, anonymous 911 call. Three men mugging a girl. A good Samaritan came along to help her. You saw the whole thing and the three guys are just lying here unconscious. Without an actual witness, the police probably won’t hold them, but it will delay these guys a while.

Cole gave Ryan a matching smile before jogging off toward the main area of the park. Several seconds went by before Ryan looked over to Lyra again.

I don’t want you arguing with me about this. You need someone with you. Don’t try and lose either of us or anything else you might think of. There was a pause. I assume you’ll be wanting me to keep this from Jack?

Lyra just held her breath. This was the moment of truth. Ryan could theoretically be their alpha, but for some reason he had stepped aside for Jack after Lyra spoke. He was a good second, but every once in a while, his real dominant nature peeked out. Lyra hoped this was one of those times.

I won’t mention it to him as long as you play by my rules. Right now, it’s not a big enough problem to bother him with.

Lyra heard what wasn’t said. If Ryan thought the situation got out of hand, he would bring Jack in, and Jack would be pissed. But then, if Jack knew all the information Lyra kept from him, he’d kill her, figuratively that is. Exhaling slowly, she agreed to Ryan’s terms.

He unfolded his hands and slid them into the pockets of his jeans. All right then, go home before Hazel starts to get suspicious and comes hunting for you. You call me the moment she leaves. I’ll come over straight from Cole’s.

Lyra didn’t respond, just headed back home. Everything had changed in the last ten minutes. She was trusting others with her safety. Lyra didn’t do that, but she had no choice this time. Ryan would never back down. Any other pack member, Lyra could have convinced to leave matters alone, but Ryan would never buy it. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She had her suspicions as to why Pack L wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly question her contacts with Cole and Ryan around. She shook her head clear; she couldn’t give Hazel any indication something was wrong. Everything had to appear normal. Lyra snorted. Nothing had been normal in years.

Chapter 2

THE NOISE WAS GETTING too loud for Lyra, Jack could tell. He had always been better at reading his littermate than anyone else.

‘Littermate’ was a term used for those in a person’s pack who were close before Berman’s experiment. He and four others in his pack had attended high school together. They had gone their separate ways in college, running into each other from time to time. When they saw each other in quarantine, they banded together. They were then placed in Pacific Northwest University’s Pack F with nine others. Before pack training, Jack had never met any of the other nine, but now he trusted them explicitly.

He gave a worried glance toward Lyra as the volume in the room went higher. Today was negotiating day for the next year of soccer. All the packs played on soccer teams. Soccer had been the one recreational sport they could all play. Strength varied vastly from one were to another, which left most contact sports out of the question. The only two sports left to them had been soccer and Ultimate Frisbee. The latter had been unanimously banned due to too many dog jokes. They couldn’t play in an average league, so a were soccer league had been formed a year and a half before. It was a way for all of them to stay in contact with each other.

There were enough packs to form three divisions within their league. PNWU Pack F played in the PNWU/UP division. Since some of the packs were smaller than could field a team; negotiation day had been scheduled before fall season began. Jack’s pack didn’t need extra teammates, nor did anyone want to trade to another team for the year. Despite that, as alpha, Jack, along with every pack alpha in the division, had to attend any kind of multi-pack meeting. So while PNWU/UP weres hollered back and forth at each other, Jack and his second sat at their pack’s desk and only responded when something was directed at them.

The two schools shared a twenty-story building, which held offices for all sixteen packs. There was one entire floor in the building used for multi-pack business. It contained a circle of labeled desks for the representatives, one for each pack. Not all packs had alphas, which caused struggles within the packs and the group at large as well. That’s why each desk was labeled. Jack never knew who the representatives would be for some of the other packs. Trading negotiations were never pleasant, which was why they agreed to only do it once a year.

Lyra hated crowds and too much noise, even before the accident had improved her hearing, and yet every time there was a multi-pack meeting, she was determined to go with him. One time early on, he deliberately hadn’t told her about a meeting to save her the discomfort. She had been furious and attacked him, pinning him to the floor while he was still in shock, and made him promise never to go without her again.

She had come to every meeting since, in wolf form. She never sat in when he or Ryan couldn’t make it; she just lay behind them. Jack noticed over the years that two male wolves did the same thing, one in Pack J and one in Pack M. When Jack mentioned it to either alpha, both stated it didn’t matter what they said, their wolf accompanied them anyway.

A couple months ago, before each meeting, Ryan had taken to grabbing one of the two large yellow ottomans from Pack F’s seventh-floor office and bringing it downstairs to the second-floor, multi-pack meeting room. Jack had been surprised the first time, but grateful the other man thought to make the meeting less distressing on their packmate. No doubt Ryan picked up on her discomfort, but never brought it up. The gesture made Jack respect his second even more. Ryan had been a stranger to Jack before quarantine, but now he couldn’t think of a better second.

Ryan was four inches taller than Jack and built like a football player; he had played before having to quit after becoming a werewolf. His enhanced abilities were too obvious an advantage. Ryan wasn’t much of a talker. The only people Jack saw him hold conversations with were three other packmates: the twins, Sadie and Syrus, and Cole, who also played football for PNWU.

As two packs on the other side of the room began a shouting match, Jack nudged Ryan under the table and gestured behind them at Lyra. The salty-gray female wolf was curled up as tight as she could on top of the ottoman. If you didn’t know her well, there would be no indication she was uncomfortable. Anyone in Pack F, however, would know better. The two men exchanged glances. Without further communication, Jack and Ryan moved their chairs farther apart and Ryan got up to stand in front of the ottoman. Jack knew he was the only one outside of Lyra who heard Ryan speak.

I’m going to lift you and bring you closer, okay?

When Lyra just continued to watch him, Ryan picked up the ottoman with her still on it and moved it just behind the two chairs. As Ryan sat back down, Jack put his hand in Lyra’s fur. The ottoman was shorter than the desk, so no one could see Lyra except those on either side.

Jack heard the alpha to his left clear his throat loud enough to get Jack and Ryan’s attention. Packs arranged their own tables, so they were not in any real order. Jack made sure the four tables closest to him were alphas he felt he could trust.

The man to his left was Mathew, alpha of Pack J. Jack looked over and saw the man giving a small smile and nodding at Lyra. Before Jack could say anything, Mathew, with his hand by his side, pointed under his desk. Then he gestured at the desk to his left, which housed Pack M. Jack gave a small smile back. Mathew was telling him the other two wolves at the meeting were curled up under the desks, hiding from the growing noise. Jack was sure the wolves were thankful the desks were enclosed on three sides.

Enough! The room went silent as the alpha two tables to the right stood.

Finn was the one pack leader who could get everyone’s attention. Pack A’s alpha had been the post-grad running the advanced chemistry lab in PNWU’s science building across the floor from Berman. The man had finished his doctorate and was to start teaching at PNWU next month. His pack was made up of the twelve students in the advanced chemistry lab. Finn was six foot four and slightly on the thin side but still had a strong presence. His dark-red hair was short, but not short enough to hide the slight curl. He used to need contacts, but the accident had