by Laura Taylor
The door burst open, and Alistair rushed in, pulling up short when he saw the two of them standing there. He darted forward, switched on a lamp, and plonked himself in one of the chairs in front of the computers.
“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but you’re going to want to see this.”
The main screen on the wall sprang to life, showing a news story that made Baron curse blackly and want to stab something.
“Police are asking for witnesses to a suspected kidnapping which occurred in London nearly two weeks ago,” the newsreader was saying. “Investigations of preliminary leads have failed to yield results, and police are now appealing to the public. Early reports state that a woman dressed in green hospital scrubs, with short brown hair, was snatched off the streets around midday on the fifteenth by a large man with dark hair. She was pulled into a white Ford Transit van. If you saw this attack, or have any information about this woman, please call the number at the bottom of the screen.”
“Fuck!” Baron leapt up from his chair, causing it to sway dangerously.
“I’m already on it,” Alistair said. “I’m going to need Skip up here. I’ve had a counter-story ready to go since Dee arrived. Shouldn’t take more than two or three hours to get this wrapped up.”
“You’re a godsend,” Baron said, equal parts relieved and infuriated. “Keep me updated. I want this sorted fast.”
“You got it, boss. Just leave everything to me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“So you’re saying these samples are completely useless?” Melissa glared at Phil, daring him to confirm what he’d just suggested. Two weeks after the disaster in the lab, they were back in operation, preparing and setting up for the next round of experiments. Among their other resources, they had discovered three pints of shifter blood stored in their fridge, enough for three more experiments. Or so she’d thought.
“The compounds unique to shifter biochemistry begin to break down less than half an hour after the sample is taken. Infusing a new subject with these samples would have no more effect than using regular human blood,” Phil told her, peering at her over the top of a pair of spectacles, and out from underneath bushy eyebrows.
“Or it might just give them a case of blood poisoning,” another scientist suggested, as grey and timid as the infamous Phil. What was his name again? Tom? Terry?
In total there were five scientists on the new team, the other two being a younger man and a woman in her forties called Linda who was more doctor than scientist. It was her job to keep the subjects alive long enough for them to be experimented on – a role that had been sadly overlooked by the last team. At least two of the deaths that had occurred in Andrews’ experiments could have been prevented by appropriate monitoring of the subjects’ vital signs during the infusions. If they’d been kept alive long enough for them to assess the results, then the team could be leaps and bounds ahead of where they were now, which was largely stumbling about in the dark.
“We still haven’t learned how to use the machine Andrews invented,” Tony said. Was it Tony? “We can create an electric field within the shielding, but we can’t work out how the blood was fed in-”
“So the only way we can run more experiments is to capture another shifter?” Melissa interrupted, trying to keep on track. Let these boffins start talking and they’d be at it all day.
Phil nodded. “That’s correct.”
“Fuck.” Melissa breathed the word softly. She was torn, equal parts impatient task master and respectful student. It had taken her only two days to realise why Jacob had assigned Phil to run this show. Because, despite the man’s bumbling ways, he seemed to actually be something of a genius when it came to biochemistry. He’d deciphered Andrews’ notes, understanding nuances and details that had escaped Melissa, and had been the one to discover the necessity of the machine – the shock chamber, they were calling it – to apply an electric current across the mixture of shifter and human blood before the blood was infused back into the human’s veins. That was the gist of the last experiment Andrews had done, the one that had been successful on subject eleven.
But now the progress seemed to have ground to a halt as Tony tried to get the damn machine working again, and Melissa had gone in search of other avenues, preparing their supplies and equipment for their next subject.
“The German office called this morning,” Linda told her, looking up from her charts and print-outs. “The shifters have all gone to ground. Since we kidnapped the last one, it’s like they’ve all vanished. We’re going to have to search further afield if we want to catch a new one.”
“How far afield?”
“Eastern Europe. Romania. Russia, maybe.”
“It takes time to move a shifter that far,” Melissa griped. Thanks to the Noturatii’s long reach and plentiful resources, it was usually possible to move a shifter between countries without getting caught up with border security, but pulling that kind of manoeuvre took time and paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork.
“That’s the damn security measures for you,” Phil complained, tapping notes into a laptop. “Security cards for this, finger prints for that, iris scans, passwords. I met some poor sod at the door the other day as I was leaving. He’d forgotten his passcode and couldn’t get in. And it takes three days to get issued a new one. That’s how long it took me last time I forgot it. I saved the poor guy the bother this time. Who knows when it’s going to be you next, right?”
Melissa looked up from her work. “Hang on… you’re saying you let some random stranger into the building?”
“No! I checked his security card first,” Phil said, sounding offended. “I’m not stupid enough to let just anyone in.”
“What day was this?”
“Hmm… the fifteenth, I think it was. The day we had all that rain in the night. Unpleasant weather.”
Melissa opened her mouth to call the man twelve kinds of idiot – that was the same day the science team had been killed, and she’d bet a year’s salary that the ‘forgetful’ worker was in fact the shifter-spy who had wrecked such havoc.
But a moment later, she reconsidered her first impulse and closed her mouth. She turned back to her laptop and pretended to concentrate on the screen. Now what was she supposed to do?
On one hand, it was simple. The man had screwed up, and that should be reported. Jacob had no patience for this kind of stupidity, and rightly so. Losing Andrews had set their research back weeks, if not months.
But on the other hand, Phil was now the crux of this new team, the most senior and most knowledgeable of all their scientists. And if his mistake was known, he would almost certainly be removed from the project. After which, he would conveniently ‘disappear’. But without him, they would be hard pressed to recreate Andrews’ experiments. In their quest to undo this hideous mistake of nature, someone had finally come up with the idea that to know how to un-make a shifter, they first needed to know how to make one. And the race to start their experiments had begun.
Melissa’s primary goal, the reason she had joined the Noturatii in the first place, was to stop these creatures from existing. So sabotaging the best and most promising chance they’d had in a decade or more made little sense to the ultimate goal.
Damn. She’d have to let it lie for now. This project was too important. If Jacob found out some other way then so be it, but for the moment, she was going to keep her mouth shut. At least until she learned more from Phil about how these experiments worked.
“Speaking of head office,” Phil piped up again. “Have you heard the news?”
Melissa had, a cold wave of fear spreading through her as she remembered it. “They’re sending an assassin,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned. As the youngest and newest member of this team, the last thing she wanted to do was come across as a wet weakling.
“The Satva Khuli?” Linda said it in a whisper, as if the notorious killer was likely to leap out from behind a cabinet, summoned by the mere mention of her name. “They’re s
ending a Tiger to guard the lab.”
“Insanity,” Tony muttered, fiddling with the shock chamber. “The Khuli are insane. The last thing we need is one running around the lab. It’ll be like having a live cobra roaming the place.”
“They’re on our side, though,” Melissa pointed out, putting her hands in her lap so they wouldn’t shake. “It’s not like she’s going to kill us, right?”
Four sceptical stares met her gaze. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetie,” Linda said, her voice low. “The Khuli are the ones sent to kill operatives who betray the Noturatii. They have no loyalty and make no distinction between friend or foe. Tony’s right. I’d sooner trust a live cobra than a Khuli.”
Melissa turned back to her work, trying not to let herself be rattled by the news. Half of what these twits said was likely nothing more than rumour and superstition anyway. Jacob was a capable leader and a keen strategist. There was no way he’d bring in a Khuli if it was going to pose a threat to his team. After all, he saw the vital need for their work to be completed, and was as committed to this war as any of them. Wasn’t he?
“I’m sick of being in this cage!” Dee complained loudly, as Baron came into the room. “I feel like I’m turning into a vampire down here. I want to see some sunlight! Breathe the fresh air. Go for a run in the wet grass like I’m a cheetah on the Serengeti.” She was lying on her back on the bed, head hanging over the side, and she delivered her complaint with all the melodrama of a fifteen-year-old in a high school play.
Baron merely cocked an eyebrow at her as he stood in front of her cage. He glanced down at the bowl of meat on the floor. Despite bringing fresh food for the wolf each day, Faeydir had never once touched it. “So you still haven’t convinced Her Majesty to eat anything?”
Dee huffed out an exaggerated sigh. She clambered around until she was upright and rolled her eyes at Baron. “She doesn’t want it. She says the dog bowl is insulting.”
“Would she rather I tip the food straight on the floor?”
Dee sent that mental picture to the wolf and received a clear image in reply. “Firstly, she now wants to piss on your shoes. But food-wise, she says she’d rather eat something she dug up in the backyard.” Dee caught a whiff of scent and winced. “Apparently a rather old something, if I’m reading this right.” She’d barely noticed that Baron had retrieved the key and unlocked the door until he propped it open and stepped back. Dee looked at him in confusion. “What…?”
“A small reprieve. Caroline has agreed to let you go for a run. But there are some rules to follow,” he added, before she could get too excited. “You’re allowed around the estate, but not past the gates. They’re all shut and locked, but don’t go getting any ideas. Once we reach the lawn I want you to wait three full minutes before you shift. Tell that to your wolf, because if you shift before that, you’re going straight back in the cage.”
“Why three minutes? I’m not arguing,” Dee added hastily, seeing Baron’s grim expression. “I just want to understand what you expect of me.”
“Caroline wants to know that you have at least a rudimentary control over the shift. Your wolf can go out, but only on our terms. That’s the deal.”
Dee nodded. She turned her thoughts inward and tried to convey the details of it all to the wolf.
“Silas will be tracking you,” Baron went on, “and he has a tranquiliser gun. He’ll only use it if it’s absolutely necessary. And the rest of the Den is out and about. Some of them are there to guide you, some to stop you if you cause trouble. So tell Faeydir she’s going to have company out there.”
The wolf seemed happy with the idea, replying with a tail wag as Dee sent her the image of other wolves running alongside her. She made sure to include a big black wolf in the picture, certain that Baron wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
When they emerged through the hidden door into the sitting room, Tank was waiting just outside, along with Caroline and two wolves. Dee hadn’t paid much attention to this room the last time she’d been here, just after she’d arrived on the estate, and she took the time to look around now. It was roughly square, furnished with antique sofas, wooden side tables and thick, gold coloured curtains. A large fireplace set into one wall gave the room a rustic, homey feel, and along the walls, bookshelves were filled with books, statuettes and vases. It was like an antique showroom, beautiful and elegant yet still retaining a warm, welcoming feel.
As Baron closed the door behind them, Caroline folded her arms and glared at her. “Baron’s explained the rules?”
“Yes.”
“We’re largely going to let the wolf do her thing this time around. No time limits, no restrictions on your behaviour. The basic rules are don’t try to escape, and don’t start any fights, but that’s it.”
“Let’s get this show on the road, then,” Baron said, and led the way out of the room. The foyer was expansive, with a hardwood floor, Victorian chandeliers and gold-rimmed mirrors on the walls. The front door was made of thick wood, a rustic design that perfectly suited the antique décor. Outside, stairs led down to a gravel drive, a sweeping arc that disappeared around the side of the manor, and to Dee’s delight, she saw there was a formal garden on either side – potted flowers and herbs, low shrubs, coloured pavers and a fountain with stone statues around it.
Further on past the driveway was a wide lawn that ended abruptly where a thick forest began. Ferns and creepers clogged the understory, the forest itself made up of tall elms, thick oak trees, hawthorn and holly, hazel forming impenetrable barriers in places; a hotbed of mystery and delight for one wanting to express the wilder side of themselves.
As she followed Baron down the stairs and across the drive, she felt her nose tingle in the cooler air. Autumn was well underway, turning the leaves yellow and orange and lending the estate a rather desolate air.
A small crowd was gathered on the lawn, both humans and wolves. Dee felt her face warm, aware that she was the centre of attention for the moment and wishing she could downplay whatever it was that was about to happen. She had the sneaking suspicion that some of the people were not there because of security concerns, but out of simple curiosity, and she wondered exactly what they had been told about her.
She glanced at Baron to find him checking his watch. Three minutes. They headed further out onto the grass, a strong sense of anticipation rising in her. Caroline and Tank had joined them, extra guards to keep her under control, no doubt, though in all honesty Dee didn’t mind the extra company.
To pass the time, she turned around and looked the manor over. Three storeys high, it was built of grey stone, chimneys rising elegantly from the roof, with light shining from behind some of the square windows in a way that made it look warm and inviting.
A slight movement caught her attention, and she noticed a young man, hardly more than a boy, standing near the group of restless shifters, but not daring to get too close to them. He was thin, weedy, arms wrapped around himself as he looked nervous and out of place. A human who hadn’t been converted yet, she wondered? Faeydir caught the direction of her attention, and Dee felt her reaching out, sensing the boy… Nope, he was a shifter, Faeydir informed her firmly.
Baron stepped into her line of sight suddenly, and she glanced up at him, wondering if her time was up… but the cold glare on his face pulled her up short.
“Sorry,” Dee apologised, not even knowing what she was apologising for. “Did I do something-”
“John’s not your business,” Baron said darkly, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her in the other direction. “You just focus on yourself for the time being.”
“How much longer?”
“Thirty seconds.”
It seemed much longer, as the seconds ticked by, and she waited nervously, hoping that Faeydir would wait the allotted time without causing a fuss.
“Time’s up.”
Dee breathed a sigh of relief and gave Faeydir a mental nudge. Time to go running.
The
wolf, true to form, however, had her own agenda, and as Dee retreated a little, preparing to give the wolf the freedom she craved, she was startled and dismayed as absolutely nothing happened.
“Well?” Baron asked after a moment. “You can shift now.”
“I would,” Dee said, embarrassed and concerned. “But Faeydir won’t come out.”
Baron gave her a look of pure disbelief. “Why not?”
Dee showed Faeydir another image of themselves, running through the forest, wolves alongside them. The wolf returned a swift image in reply. A large, beautiful grey wolf with golden eyes, running right beside her. Who? Dee asked, not recognising the animal. Faeydir showed her another image: Mark, eyes golden and watchful, who then shifted into the wolf she had shown her.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!” Dee said out loud. This obsession with the man was going to get them both into trouble.
“What?” Baron asked, more curious than annoyed.
“She wants Mark to come running with us,” Dee said, feeling even more embarrassed.
“She’s fairly intent on getting her own way, isn’t she?”
Dee threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to reason with her. But she’s flatly refusing to come out unless Mark comes for a run.” She scolded the wolf mentally, showing her an image of the cage. She sensed Faeydir putting her ears back, a soft whine in her mind, an apology of sorts, but the faint image of Mark came up again, accompanied by a hopeful wag of her tail.
“All right,” Baron said with a sigh. “In the interests of actually getting somewhere today…” He glanced around the group of shifters and spotted Mark. “Mark! Get over here.”
Dee smiled at him as he headed over, but the smile faded quickly when she saw the expression on his face. Dark, grim and brooding, and she was suddenly dismayed at Faeydir’s request. Maybe he didn’t want to see her again?
