Pack of Trouble

by D. M. Turner

  She grimaced. Couldn’t they have begun with something more pleasant than the events of that night? Perhaps sharing such stories was routine among werewolves. If she wanted information, and to be accepted, she’d best toe the line.

  “I worked late one night. When I headed home about one, I went out the back door to toss a bag of garbage into the dumpster in the alley. I heard something but thought it was a stray dog. They congregated around the garbage at times but never bothered any of us, so I dismissed it… and headed around the building to my car.”

  Memory rushed to the front of her mind. She tensed against the intrusion, seeking to control the flow of images and emotion, but it resisted her attempts at restraint.

  * * *

  Seattle, Washington

  Wednesday, March 5, 2014

  Sophia shivered against the rain dripping under the hood of her raincoat and down her neck to dampen the front of her shirt. She lifted the massive lid of the dumpster and tossed the bag of garbage inside. The lid slammed down, and she turned to head for her car, pulling the hood of the raincoat forward to block out the drizzling rain.

  A low, deep growl pulled her to a halt.

  Fear skittered through her, and she looked around. Nothing in sight. Probably a stray dog hiding behind the dumpster. No big deal. She’d startled it with all the noise. That was all.

  Chuckling at her paranoia, she walked toward the far end of the building. Her car waited just around the corner.

  The growl deepened and moved closer.

  She glanced back and froze in her tracks. Someone’s wolf-hybrid must’ve gotten loose. The biggest wolf-dog she’d ever seen. Was someone crossing wolves with mastiffs or something equally huge? What idiot would do such a thing?

  It padded slowly toward her, teeth bared, head low, eyes bright with malice.

  Back away. Nice and slow. Keep moving toward the car. Don’t make any sudden moves, and don’t run. She remembered hearing that somewhere. When confronted by a predator, don’t run.

  Not that a human could outrun it anyway, so who actually ran from such things? What else did the experts say? Don’t take your eyes off of the animal, or was the caution not to stare at them? I should’ve paid more attention to those documentaries over the years.

  It advanced.

  She backed away. Only a few more feet to the corner. Then maybe ten feet to the car. Of course, then she’d have to fumble with the keys to get the vehicle unlocked. Why couldn’t she be one of those people who trusted the world and left her car unlocked?

  Sophia fingered the keys, seeking the one she needed by touch, grateful it had a rubber cap around the head. None of the other keys were quite like it.

  The corner of the building clipped her shoulder hard as she took another big step back, jarring her. Before she could shift her tracks to bypass it, the animal launched. She screamed and flung both arms in front of her to protect her face.

  Teeth closed on her arms. The wolf’s weight slammed her into the building then knocked her to the ground.

  Keys rattled on wet asphalt.

  * * *

  “Breathe, Sophia.” Gentle hands closed on her shoulders. “Breathe, slowly, in and out.”

  Sophia shook free of the memory, terror making her tremble like a leaf in a windstorm. She met a calm gray gaze. Her empty stomach churned, and shuddering aches slid over a body that tried to Shift. She willed it to subside.

  A frown furrowing his brow, Ian kept his gaze on hers. “Breathe. Slowly,” he repeated with a strange combination of brusque and gentle. “The past can’t hurt you in the present.”

  Did he think she was stupid? “Says someone who’s never had to face it.”

  He shook his head and offered a weak half-smile. “Says someone who’s faced it far too often.”

  “Right.” She waved a hand to indicate their surroundings, lingering fear plus annoyance adding bite to her words. “Living here in solitude. I’m sure you’ve faced a whole lot of trauma in your life.”

  “You’d be surprised what I’ve dealt with. Don’t let my current circumstances fool you.” He shook his head, released her, and stepped away. “Go on with your story. Don’t delve into the details. That’ll keep the memories from drowning you.” He returned to the stove.

  Unsure what he’d put in the big pot on the burner and not really caring, she sighed. “I don’t know why the wolf didn’t kill me. It just suddenly took off. I remember lying there, absolutely certain I’d die. I barely found the strength to crawl close enough to the building to get out of the rain and passed out. I think I slipped in and out of consciousness for a while, but I can’t be sure. I could’ve hallucinated or dreamed that. I finally woke up enough to realize I needed to get to the hospital.”

  He stilled and turned to study her.

  “It felt like it took forever to find my keys and reach my car. I was drenched by the time I got inside. I started it and turned on the heater, but then I passed out again.” She hugged herself and shivered. “It was nearly five in the morning when I woke up. The car was still running, so at least I was warm. I looked at my arms but didn’t see any serious wounds. I was thrown by it because I could’ve sworn they’d been shredded. All I had were scrapes and bruises.”

  “Did you go to the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t find any bad injuries, so I thought I’d overreacted to it all, that panic made me think it was worse than it was. I drove home. Took a while because I kept getting disoriented. I prayed God would get me home safely. When I got there, I stripped and climbed in the shower to wash off the blood. Nothing was bleeding, though I had a bunch of scrapes and scratches, so I put on my pajamas and fell into bed. I couldn’t think beyond the need for sleep.”

  He nodded and scooped what smelled like roast beef from the pot onto a platter.

  “When my alarm woke me at eight, I didn’t have a mark on me. I tried to convince myself it had been a bad dream. You know, like those caused by bad food or as a weird side effect of some medication, but I found the clothes I’d been wearing. They were shredded in ways that weren’t my imagination or subconscious run amok. It was so confusing.”

  “I know what you mean.” He set the platter in front of her. “Eat.”

  Sophia scowled. Was he always so bossy?

  “You’re way too thin. That’s not safe for a wolf, so eat.” Ian pointed to the platter and headed for the refrigerator again.

  “Anyway, I was still very weak and tired.” She picked at the meat. “I tossed the clothes in the garbage, called my boss and told him I was sick, and went back to bed. By the time I woke up the next morning, I felt great. No weakness. No fatigue. Lots of energy. The scale told me I’d lost about twenty pounds, but I figured it was broken and being extremely generous for a change. My weight normally fluctuated quite a bit, so I found clothes in the closet that almost fit and went to work. I convinced myself the attack had been just a bad dream.”

  “Until the full moon.”

  “Yeah. That pretty well blew my illusions.”

  “It has a way of doing that. How long did it take you to get back to human form after that first moon passed?”

  Sophia was almost relieved that he didn’t want to know about the first time she’d changed into a wolf. Between the pain of the change and the fear and helplessness when she’d caught sight of herself in the mirror, it was far from a pleasant memory. “Five freaking days, and I do mean freaking. I panicked. I thought I was stuck in an animal’s body. I hid in my apartment, emptied my fridge, freezer, and cupboards. I thought I’d starve after that. I stood in my bedroom that final afternoon, staring at the reflection in the full-length mirror, telling myself I was human, not an animal. Pain hit me, and I was human again.”

  He nodded then pointed to the meat she’d been picking at. “You really need to eat.”

  “I know.” She grimaced. “It needs salt.”

  Ian shook his head and half-smiled. “Fine.” He retrieved a shaker from the far counter
and set it in front of her. “Here. Now, eat.”

  She glared at him. “Are you always so bossy?”

  “Pretty much.” He nodded. Not even a hint of apology or sheepishness. “Get used to it, or go home.”

  Sadness erased annoyance. “I don’t have one.”

  A brow rose. “Excuse me?”

  “I gave up my apartment a few months ago. I’ve been living out of my SUV while I searched for you, or rather the author of those books.”

  He leaned both palms flat on the counter and rested his weight against them. “What started that journey?”

  “After the first full moon, I tried again to tell myself it had all been some weird dream or I’d run a fever that made me delusional. My boss was furious about me not showing up for work without calling. I told him I’d been seriously ill and unable to call. He let it go. The next full moon dispelled the illusions I wanted to carry. I hunted for books on werewolves. Fiction, non-fiction, I didn’t care. Anything that might help me figure out how to live with it. Some of it helped, sort of. Most of it just scared me.”

  “I can imagine.” Ian nodded. “I’ve read some of the books available on the subject. They’re enough to convince you that the full moon will make you eat your entire family then start on the nearest town.”

  “Pretty much.” After what had happened the previous May…. Sophia shuddered and shoved another piece of beef in her mouth. “Last fall, I ran across a book by T.S. Campbell online and ordered it. I was discouraged by then, but I figured the worst it would do was be useless like so many of the others. When it arrived, I let it sit for a couple of weeks before I finally read it.”

  A chill crept over her, and a wave of weakness hit. Not as bad as she’d had at other points the past couple of weeks, so she wiped a hand over her eyes and dismissed it. “The more I read, the more it resonated with me. When the next book came out, I immediately bought and read it. Then the next. I knew they may be fiction stories, but they were based in truth.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you feeling alright?”

  “Just a little lightheaded. I’ve had these episodes the last couple of weeks. It’ll pass.” Hopefully she wouldn’t pass out like three times before. At least he wouldn’t call 9-1-1. That was reassuring. She pushed another bite of beef into her mouth and chewed it slowly.

  After swallowing, she glanced up at Ian, then frowned and blinked. Why was he blurry? She wiped her eyes. No better. Great. More weirdness from her altered body. Just what she needed. “I’ve spent four years trying to figure this whole thing out, and I feel like I’m still totally ignorant about it all. I’m tired of trying to make sense of it alone. After this winter, I knew I couldn’t keep going it alone.”

  He cocked his head, his scrutiny uncomfortably intense and assessing. “What happened this winter?”

  “About the middle of November, I got so… cranky. For days before and after the full moon, I wanted to snarl at everyone. The day after the full moon, one of my subordinates screwed up, and it reflected badly on me. I had to walk out because I couldn’t control the anger. I wanted to—” She lowered her gaze to the platter, which swam funny on a counter that undulated. Ignore it. It’ll pass.

  “You wanted to what?”

  “Kill him. I wanted to kill him.” Sophia cringed, recalling the rage that had filled her, along with the desire to exact vengeance on a man who’d made a mistake she’d made herself in the past. “I’d thought looking in the mirror and seeing a wolf staring back was bad. Wanting to kill a man for a mistake was worse, especially since it was one of those stupid little things we’d all done that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

  Ian nodded with a look of understanding.

  “It happened again during the week of New Year’s. That’s when I quit my job and decided I needed more answers than the books provided. I’d begun thinking the other books were right, and it was just a matter of time before I ate someone.”

  If I haven’t already.

  The world pitched funny then dimmed.

  Her stomach turned over, and she swallowed hard to keep what she’d eaten down. It wasn’t enough.

  Black silence descended.

  Chapter 3

  The woman’s sudden loss of color made Ian frown.

  What the— Before he could even complete the thought, Sophia slumped off the stool onto the tile floor on the other side of the breakfast bar with a dull thud. He rushed around the counter, knelt by her side, and checked for a pulse.

  Nothing. No pulse, and she wasn’t breathing.

  What in the world?

  He’d suspect her starved state, but he’d never seen a wolf just keel over like that. Up, talking, alert wolves didn’t suddenly drop dead. Even emaciated wolves usually fell asleep and didn’t wake up.

  Could he save her? Should he?

  Well, you can’t very well sit here and let her die if there’s hope of saving her. He shifted her from her side to her back and leaned down to make sure her airway was clear.

  She took a rapid, shallow breath.

  Ian startled then checked again for a pulse. Weak and thready, but there. That had to be among the weirdest things he’d ever seen. She’d been dead a moment before.

  “Sophia?”

  No response.

  He scooped her into his arms, carried her to the guestroom, and deposited her on the bed. Then he went to his office across the hall to retrieve the satellite phone and returned to the guestroom to keep an eye on her. Number dialed, he waited for the phone at the other end to be picked up.

  “Hello?” The distracted greeting was par for Dr. Jeremy Richardson when he was interrupted at work.

  “It’s Ian.”

  “What’s up?”

  Ian glanced at his watch. Barely past five. Jeremy would still be at the office for another hour, then it would take him a half hour to reach the Preserve. Sophia might not be able to wait that long. “I realize you’re probably still at the office, but can you get away to come to my place? I’ve got a patient for you in critical condition. One of us, new to the area. Emaciated and probably dehydrated, just collapsed.”

  “That’s not good. Um…. Can you give me about forty-five minutes? I’m with a patient at the moment, but I can come right after that.”

  “That’ll do. I’ll keep an eye on her until you get here.”

  “Her?”

  “Yeah. Long story.” And not one he wanted to get into over the phone.

  “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Ian punched the button to disconnect the call, laid the phone on the nightstand, and carried the chair from near the front window to sit beside the bed. The next forty-five minutes would be an eternity, he’d bet.

  Hopefully she didn’t die again. Next time, she might not come back.

  * * *

  The purr of a familiar car engine pulled Ian’s attention from studying Sophia’s unconscious form. Jeremy. He remained in his seat, though he sat up straighter, and waited for the doctor to join him. It had been barely thirty-five minutes since their phone conversation, so the man hadn’t wasted any time getting there. Gratitude swept through him.

  Moments later, Jeremy jogged into the guestroom, a black bag in one hand, a hard case in the other. “Got here as soon as I could.” He set the bag and case on the floor beside the bed and knelt to open the former. “Has she regained consciousness since she collapsed?”

  “No.” He leaned forward and rested both elbows on his knees. “She died, Jeremy.”

  “What?” The doctor glanced over his shoulder, halting in the process of sticking the tips of the stethoscope into his ears. Then he turned back to Sophia and gripped her wrist.

  “She’s okay now, but she wasn’t at first. She was sitting at the breakfast bar talking to me, eating beef I’d warmed up. She looked like she had vision problems, then her color washed out, and she blacked out. When I got to her, she wasn’t breathing, and her heart wasn’t beating. I laid her out flat to do CPR, and sh
e took a breath on her own and her heart started again. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Neither have I.” He frowned and leaned over Sophia to listen to her heart and lungs.

  Ian sat quietly and waited for the man to finish his exam.

  Jeremy straightened and looped the stethoscope around his neck. “Her heartbeat is weak and erratic. I don’t like that at all, needless to say. You weren’t kidding about emaciation. How is she even still alive?”

  “I don’t know. Sheer will, I suppose.” He snorted. “She’s not afraid of me.”

  The doctor’s brows rose. “Seriously?”

  Ian nodded. “She even accused me of being bossy.”

  “Well… you do tend to be at times.” Jeremy grinned, his gaze not meeting Ian’s.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, but how many of you would look me directly in the eye with attitude and accuse me of it?”

  “None of us with any sense of self-preservation.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, is she beyond fear of death, or is she dominant enough to not back down from you?”

  “I’m not sure.” He suspected the latter, and it bothered him.

  Only one female had ever been bold and confident enough to argue with him and not back down, and he’d lost her far too soon.

  “You suspect she’s that dominant.” Jeremy’s soft statement slipped through Ian’s thoughts. The doctor kept his gaze on his patient.

  “Yeah. I think my life just got way more complicated.”

  The subordinate wolf knelt and opened the hard case to reveal IV tubing and clear plastic bags of fluids. “I brought glucose and lactated ringers. Sugar’s not ideal, as you know, but it’ll give her body quick energy so she’ll wake up. The lactated ringers will stabilize her electrolytes. Both will help her re-hydrate. We need to get a lot of food into her as soon as she’s awake and can sit up. I don’t think she’ll have a pleasant recovery. As underweight as she is, there’s bound to be organ damage. Some of that may be painful as it heals.”