Darcingtowne Wolves: The Flower Moon Games (Book 2)

Chapter Eight: Agents & Assets

After all the introductions were complete, the she-wolves were escorted by Tiffany and her cadre of meatheads to a long hallway with a series of steel reinforced doors that had some very serious looking heavy duty biometric locks. Next to each door was a much smaller door that reminded Carrie of a mail drop.

“I know you must think that we here at the WIC Company are brutes, but let me assure you that from here on out you will be treated with the utmost care and attention...outside of the challenges, anyway.” Tiffany said, giving the ladies one of her signature two-faced smiles. “We do hope you find your accommodations comfortable. If you need anything, please feel free to use the ordering system on the tablets provided.”

Ah, so that’s what the smaller door was for. It actually was a sort of mail drop, but probably for food and drink. The thought of food made Carrie’s stomach rumble. The only thing she’d put in her stomach since waking up, however long ago, was a glass of water, and she hadn’t eaten very much at the ball. Sebastian had been right about them arriving too late for the dinner portion of the evening.

“I would advise you all to retire as soon as possible, because you are going to have a very busy day tomorrow. The first challenge is going to be one of the more physically taxing challenges, so please keep that in mind as you prepare yourselves in the morning.”

With that, Carrie and the rest of the she-wolves were shuffled into their individual quarters by Tiffany’s besuited brutes. Normally, she would have protested at the way her guard shoved her into her room by the elbow, but it just wasn’t worth it. She was growing more exhausted by the minute, and it’s not like she was going to overpower the guy.

The door shut behind her with an ominous series of heavy clicks, but the Delta was too preoccupied with sating her hunger to hear it. Not wasting any time, Carrie went straight for the tablet that was sitting on the charging dock on top of the small desk. The screen of the tablet lit up, and to Carrie’s disappointment there were scant few apps installed. In fact, there were only two.

Darn. Carrie had been hoping there might be an Outworlder browser app installed. Even a mundy browser app would have been useful. But of course, this WIC Company, whoever the hell they were, wouldn’t make things that easy.

The first was an app entitled “The Flower Moon Games,” which Carrie assumed must provide information for the contestants to peruse, but the more interesting app to her, at the moment anyway, was the second one - “Concierge.” Carrie tapped it with her finger, and it loaded up quick. The Delta sighed happily as she navigated to the food tab; there were several more, including one for entertainment that she would have to examine later, but for now she needed to fill her stomach.

The menu was impressive, with a full range of high and low-end options that could be ordered around the clock. Breakfast for dinner was sounding mighty tempting, especially now that her sense of smell was finally starting to return. She might not be a morning person, but Carrie loved her some waffles...oooh, or crepes! Sweet. Some people, if they saw how much food Carrie proceeded to order, would have said that her eyes were bigger than her stomach. But, Carrie figured that If she was going to be stuck as a captive contestant in a horrible mating competition, she might as well take full advantage of anything good they offered her. 

The cramped supply closet that Desmond was currently fetching cleaning supplies from was stuffy and smelled distinctly of bleach and vinegar, but it was also the only corner of the building that did not have cameras. He’d retreated there as soon as the introductions wrapped up, after indicating to Tiffany that he was going to take care of cleaning up the spilled blood in the preparation room. 

The heavies had already taken the poor raven haired she-wolf’s body for disposal, and while Tiffany had intended on leaving the creepy pool of blood on the floor as a reminder to the contestants when they were gathered there before the first challenge, but Desmond convinced her that it would be better to lull them into a false sense of security. Let them relax enough to perform well, and slowly ratchet up the tension and difficulty to see how they withstand not just physical, but psychological, pressure.

Des pulled up a bucket and took a seat as the burner phone that he’d tucked into bottom of a box of scrubbing powder dialed out. There was only one number programmed into the phone; his handler’s number. Oddly it was not his handler who answered.

“Desmond!” came a distinctly sultry female voice. “Just the man I was waiting to hear from.”

“Agent Killian,” Des sighed, pinching at the bridge of his noise. “Can you please put your partner on the line?”

“Whaaat…? You want to talk to that sour puss instead of me? But I’m the one who managed to get a covert she-wolf into the competition to help protect your mate.” Agent Amber Killian sounded almost gleeful as she said this.

In the background, he heard the angry voice of his handler, Agent Gavin Faust, “You did WHAT?!”

“Calm your t**s, Gav. I didn’t send Sarah in blind or anything, and she’s got more combat experience than you, me and Desmond combined. She’ll be fiiiiine.” Amber said, her tone as flippant as it usually was.

Desmond had always preferred working alone, but listening to the way that Amber and Gavin constantly bickered only made him appreciate his lone agent status all the more. Sure, they had an impressive track record, and were some of the best SPIN doctors in the country, but it definitely came with a price.

“You sent your ROOMMATE into an active situation?!” Gavin’s next shout was so loud that Desmond almost thought he was speaking into the phone directly. “She’s just a maid, Amber!”

“You must not have heard me earlier, Gavin. But, since I figured you would lose your s**t, I made this handy dossier for you. Sarah was a maid, yeah, and now she works in a chocolate shop...but she’s not just either of those things. Judgemental prick.” Amber said, sniffing haughtily. “Read up, buttercup, then tell me if you really think I’m wrong. Go on.”

When Gavin didn’t respond, Amber cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Desmond.

“Now, Desmond, I need you to make contact with Sarah as soon as you can so that she knows you’re aware of her. You can figure out a way to do that safely, right?” Amber continued, as if she hadn’t just done something completely insane and which had no relation whatsoever to the plan that they’d originally come up with for this mission.

“I can.” Desmond said, realizing he had no choice but to go with it. Gavin must have come to the same conclusion, because there was no further yelling on his handler’s part.

“Good. Sarah looks all sweet and innocent, but she’s a velvet sledge hammer. I have no doubt that, no matter what, she will survive - and she will do everything she can to protect your mate and the other women as well.”

“She’s already made an alliance with Carrie.” Desmond says, not even bothering to pretend that the other she-wolves were his priority. “And she managed to impress a number of the Alphas. I am actually going to be delivering some gifts to both Sarah and Carrie later this evening to help with the first challenge tomorrow.”

If he thought he could do it without getting caught, Des would have sprung his mate and run off with her already. Or ran with her from the ball, while Tiffany and Edwin were looking the other way. He knew better than that, though. The WIC Company had agents all over that party, just like they had a veritable army of wolves in the compound he was currently sat in.

They had a much better shot of getting away clean if he didn’t draw attention to Carrie, or himself. He needed to stick with the mission, and part of sticking with the mission was adapting to the unexpected. Like discovering that one of their collateral victims was his mate, or being belatedly informed that a second covert agent had been implanted with him. 

Desmond could either fret over the added responsibility of a secondary asset, or he could find a way to use that asset to their best advantage. 

Desmon breathed, and started relaying the information that he’d actually called to give them, “One of the she-wolves was killed this morning. Vanessa Chastain.”

Amber must have put him on speakerphone now, because it was Gavin who responded. “s**t. I hate to say that’s good, because it’s awful, but a death early on also means that we’ve got some cause to rush the place and put the Alphas in custody.”

The laws and treaties revolving around the interference of the Outworld’s international governing bodies over werewolf society were convoluted at best, so the Society for Paranormal Incident Neutralization - which Desmond generally referred to as ‘the Agency’ or the ‘SPIN Doctors’ - rarely interfered with the day to day operations of werewolf packs.

Alpha wolves tended to rule over their little fiefdoms with care, so for the most part it was unnecessary for the Agency to get involved. Aside from the occasional cover-up assist - say, for example, if a werewolf accidentally transformed on live television - the agency was happy to let werewolves look after their own. Most mundanes were unable to comprehend magic, anyway.

But, in cases like this, involving she-wolves from a large number of different packs and Alphas from all over the world, the agency felt it was their duty to intervene.

“Not quite.” Amber countered. “We need the Alphas to implicate themselves. Get involved directly with the contestants. That’s supposed to happen during the fourth challenge, right?”

Desmond swallowed, his stomach turning over as he recalled what the fourth challenge consisted of. “Yes, but…”

“Don’t worry, Desmond.” Gavin interrupted. “We’ll get you and the she-wolves out of there before it gets that far.”

Unlike Amber, who always sounded like she was tipsy and took nothing seriously, Gavin was all sober determination. Desmond trusted the man with his life, and now with his mate’s life. He could only hope that his trust was not misplaced.

“We’ve been on the phone too long. I don’t want anyone on that side to miss you.” Gavin added. “Check in again tomorrow, and Desmond...don’t do anything rash.”

“Yeah, don’t do anything I would do!” Amber piped in just before the line went dead.