Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1

by Mark E. Cooper

  “The labs are down that corridor there, and along this one, we have more wards. Would you like to see?”

  “Yes please.”

  Brauer smiled. He had wanted to go in and see someone, and David had realised that. Besides, he would be working alongside the man and needed to learn all he could.

  “There are very few private rooms here,” Brauer said upon entering the ward. “Most of the wards are like this. We have ten beds in each usually, but we sometimes have to slip an extra one in where we can.”

  “Your patients are all non-humans?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I’ve never worked with non-humans before.”

  “Never?”

  “No.”

  Brauer looked stunned. “But Hoberman assured me! He promised me someone that would…”

  “That would?”

  Brauer’s face hardened, his posture now stiff. “Someone who would not find working here objectionable.”

  “Well then, he told you the truth. I volunteered for this, Doctor Brauer—”

  “Alex, please.”

  “Hoberman didn’t lie to you, Alex. I do want to work here. I hope you don’t find my lack of experience in the area a serious problem. I assure you that I’ll hit the books and make up for any lack.”

  Brauer waved that away impatiently. “Not all of my patients are non-human, about half are simply people without the means to pay for good care, but I was hoping for someone with experience of non-human physiology. I’m currently the only one with any kind of real experience in the area and I’m swamped. Well, no matter. After a few months here, you’ll be an old hand. I can still use you, no question about it. I’m understaffed and underfunded. Any help is appreciated.”

  “How do you cover your costs, if I might ask?”

  Brauer looked at him as if evaluating him. “Some of it comes by way of government grants—not nearly enough, not by a long way. The rest,” he shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. “There are a few people—private contributors—that help with funding. They like to remain anonymous. Without them I couldn’t keep this place going for longer than a month or two.”

  David nodded and glanced around. There were twelve beds in the ward, but only half of them were occupied. The mystery of the missing patients was solved when he noticed the gathering at the far end of the room.

  Brauer sighed and shook his head ruefully. “Poker game I suspect.”

  David wandered over to watch while Brauer spoke with the duty nurse about something—a patient most likely, but he didn’t find a poker game. There were two men sitting at a table opposite each other staring. Neither man was doing anything interesting yet the audience was spellbound. The two men were almost vibrating with something—their need to move perhaps, yet both continued to glare hard at each other in silence.

  He watched as the nearer of the two men clenched his jaw and started shaking harder. He was sweating and his fists were clenched now. David thought that perhaps he should intervene, but neither man was really doing anything. He looked around in puzzlement and shivered at the audience’s intensity. His short hairs lifted. Something was happening here, but what?

  “What are they doing?” he said.

  “Hmmm?” an unshaven man in the audience said.

  “What are they doing?”

  The man eyed him up and down. “Are you new?”

  “Doctor Lephmann—David.”

  “Nice to meet you. The name’s Howard—gallstones you know.”

  “Gallstones?”

  “Yeah, it hurt like a sonofabitch, but the Doc fixed me up. I’m outa here tomorrow.”

  “What are they doing?” David said nodding back to the centre of everyone’s attention.

  “They’re only playing.”

  “I don’t I understand.”

  “Shifters are always doing this kind of thing. You know anything about shifters?”

  David looked again. The men were shifters? He was fascinated by the thought. He had only been here an hour and already he had met non-humans—his first as far as he knew. They were still sitting as before, but as he had noticed earlier, the man closest was sweating heavily. His opponent seemed to be sitting at his ease now. He must be winning.

  “Are you one as well?”

  “Me?” Howard snorted. “Nah, but I know a couple.”

  “Really? I thought they kept to themselves.”

  “They do, but a friend of mine got himself bitten and we kind of stayed in touch. He introduced me.”

  “I see, and by playing you mean what exactly?”

  Howard waved a hand at the sitting men. “See, what you got to understand about shifters is that they ain’t human. They look human, but they aren’t. You know how wolves run in packs?”

  He nodded still watching the show.

  “It’s the same with shifters. They stick together mostly—look out for each other, but the strongest always leads. The strongest has to prove it over the others. They call that one the Alpha. Shifters are always fighting for status, but there’s more than one way to fight. They have their own magic you know.”

  “Magic? I didn’t know that.”

  Howard shrugged. “Not magic like you mean, Doc, but they do have power. Shifters always recognise it and will submit if he’s weaker, but if they’re closely matched…” he gestured at the pair sitting at the table.

  “They fight?”

  Howard nodded. “To the death sometimes, but mostly it’s like this. They push at each other until one submits.”

  “I can’t let them hurt each other. Not here.”

  Howard eyed him sideways. “Never get between two shifters Doc—never, but you don’t have to worry. Like I said, they’re just playing.” Just then, the sweating man slumped back gasping. “See what I mean?”

  The two men grinned at each other and the audience began to disperse.

  “Is the game over?” Alex said as he arrived. “I’ve told them there’s a time and place for that kind of thing. A hospital is definitely not it.”

  David smiled. “It’s over.”

  “Shall we continue the tour then?”

  “By all means.”

  Brauer led the way out.

  * * *

  3 ~ Georgie

  David signed the page, and turned to the next. He read it quickly, added a short note to the end, and dated it. Paperwork was one thing that had not changed when he took his new position at Mercy Hospital. Sometimes he felt less like a doctor, and more like some kind of administrative assistant.

  He turned the page and sighed in relief. He was done for the day. A yawn surprised its way out of him and he leaned back in his chair. It was strange how quickly he had become accustomed to working with Alex Brauer. Just a month had passed, and already he knew that he did not want to leave Mercy. He liked Alex, and he especially liked the way his friend treated his patients—with skill and impartiality. Alex had taught him a lot during his time here, and he looked forward to learning more.

  Alex Brauer was a fount of information. He had yet to find a question his friend could not answer. How had he learned so much about other species? How had he known that dwarves were often born prematurely, and that such premature children were allergic to certain types of magic? How the hell had he known that? Dwarves were so rarely seen that it seemed impossible to him that Alex had ever delivered a dwarven child, yet he knew so much about them!

  It was uncanny.

  And what about the elves? The Sidhe were reclusive and their animosity toward humans was legendary, yet Brauer knew all about their ceremonies and even some of their healing magic. It was inconceivable that an elf had allowed Alex to attend a healing circle, and elven ceremonies were always conducted in strictest secrecy, yet Alex could speak for hours on the subject. He was jealous. He knew he was, and suspected that Alex knew it too. Still, it was not a destructive kind of jealousy. Far from it—it drove him on and made him determined to learn everything that Alex had to teach.


  He yawned widely and stretched his arms above his head. He checked his wristband and realised that he had been on call for sixteen straight hours. He should be exhausted, but all he felt was a pleasant tiredness—like a man who knew he had accomplished something worth doing and was ready for sleep.

  He switched off his lamp and shrugged into his jacket before stepping out of the office he shared with Alex. The lights in the corridor seemed overly bright after working at his desk with just a single lamp. He made his way along the corridor with squinted eyes until he stepped outside into the night.

  The air was pleasantly cool, and his breath smoked. He breathed deeply of it and crossed the car park toward the far side. His car, that only a few hours earlier had been accompanied by dozens of others, now sat alone in an ocean of empty space. His colleagues had left for home hours earlier, and those working the night shift had chosen to park closer to the entrance for a quick getaway come the morning. He smiled, imagining the stampede of tired people pouring out of the hospital doors in the morning.

  David drove through the empty streets not really seeing their dilapidated state. He had long since become used to seeing the boarded up windows of abandoned homes and stores throughout the area. He hardly noticed the empty lots full of refuse anymore, or the hunched figures trying to warm themselves around bonfires built inside steel drums. The homeless were a common sight in the area.

  He frowned in discontent at the music his car was playing for him. He wasn’t using the autopilot, yet somehow it had defaulted to one of the old play lists Michelle had used with it as if trying to remind him of her. It annoyed him. He didn’t want to think about her rejection of him, and he certainly didn’t have to put up with her music anymore. He fiddled with the controls, trying to select something with a proper beat. He took his eyes off the road for a second—he would swear it was no more than that—when the woman burst out of the alley and ran straight in front of him.

  “Holy shit!” He yelled cranking the wheel and stamping hard on the brakes. The car fishtailed and the tyres squealed punctuated by the crunch of breaking glass. He wrestled the car straight and stopped. The woman lay in the road where he had put her. “Oh my Goddess,” he panted and fumbled for his seatbelt.

  He climbed out of the car and ran back to the motionless form noting the amount of blood spreading around her. He called for an ambulance on his link while checking her throat for a pulse. “I’m at the corner of Second Street,” he gasped in his urgency.

  “Put her in the recovery position, sir,” the operator said in calm and even tones. “Do you know any first aid, sir?”

  “I know what to do, I’m a doctor,” he said and checked the woman’s vitals. She was breathing regularly and her colour was good. She had a strong pulse. He thumbed back her eyelids. Pupil dilation normal. “She’s bleeding but—”

  “Well now, what have we here?” A throaty purring voice came from out of the nearest alley.

  He looked up and peered into the shadows, “Who’s there?”

  “Sir?” the operator said. “Is someone there with you? Sir, is something wrong?”

  He didn’t know for sure, but he thought there might be something very wrong indeed. He ignored the tiny voice from his link and tried to see into the alley. He thought the shadow to the right might be the speaker.

  “I should thank you for bringing her down for me. She ran me a fine chase there at the end.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t understand,” he said nervously. It was only now that he remembered where he was—a bad place to find himself alone at night. “The police will be here soon.”

  “Sir? Did you say that you need the police? What is happening there? Are you in danger?”

  He prayed for the operator to take the hint. “The police will be here very soon.”

  The figure laughed and came forward. “Well then, I had better be quick.”

  The shadows came alive and a woman stepped into the street. David sighed and felt like laughing at himself. What had he expected, an ogre? Unlikely. They didn’t like cities and were very shy creatures despite their size. They preferred mountains and wild places. The newcomer was just a woman. She was of average height and build with short dark brown hair left long over her left eye. It was quite appealing, though it must surely be hard to see properly with it like that. She wore black jeans, running shoes, and a shirt of a similar style to that of the woman he had hit with his car. There seemed nothing remarkable about her, except maybe for her visible eye. For just a moment, he thought he saw it flash a golden hue in the meagre light of the street.

  “An ambulance will be with you in three minutes, sir. A patrol car will be there in less than two—”

  He ignored the tiny voice of the operator when the injured woman groaned in pain. He looked down at his newest patient in time to see her open her eyes in confusion. They were liquid brown and suited her lovely face despite the blood.

  “Don’t move, there might be internal—Gahhh!” David gasped as the woman, snarling in anger, grabbed him around the throat. “Please… I’m sorry…” he gasped prying at her fingers. She was unbelievably strong. He couldn’t break her grip!

  The stranger laughed making the woman pale in fear. A moment later, the grip on his throat vanished as she thrust him away. He literally flew away from her and rolled a dozen feet toward his car. His palms were stinging—he had skinned them on the pavement. The woman suddenly sprinted toward him, and he flinched thinking she was going to kill him, but no, she was running from the stranger.

  “Look out!” he screamed.

  She turned impossibly fast to meet the threat. She ducked and then exploded into motion a moment later. It was the stranger’s turn to become airborne, but she didn’t crash to the ground. She twisted her body in mid-air and landed upon her feet as if she did it every day of the week.

  “Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie,” the stranger said shaking her head. “You know you can never best me. Come back with me, and I promise not to hurt you too badly.”

  “Screw you, Georgie,” Ronnie snarled. “I’m not going back.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that? I told Raymond he should just kill you, but he has a soft spot for you. Go figure.”

  “What he has for me isn’t soft.”

  Georgie chuckled. “Maybe if you’re nice to me, I’ll let you go.”

  Ronnie growled, the sound deep and gravelly.

  David climbed carefully to his feet. He knew nothing of their quarrel, but if he were to choose a side to be on, he would choose Ronnie. It seemed to him that she was the underdog, and he owed her for hitting her with his car. He leapt forward and jumped Georgie from behind.

  “Run!” he yelled as he clamped his arms around Georgie, pinning her arms down by her side and determined not to let go.

  “You fool! You don’t know what you’re doing—she’ll rip you apart!”

  He didn’t have time to argue. One moment he had Georgie in his arms, the next she was loose and turning back with a look of pure rage upon her face. His eyes widened and he back-pedalled as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. She stalked toward him and there was something strange about her eyes. They were shining a golden yellow, as if lit from within. Magic!

  “Run you idiot!” Ronnie shrieked.

  He spun on his heels and sprinted away. There was the sound of ripping cloth, and suddenly he was falling. Something wet and warm covered his back and he screamed his agony into the night. He rolled away from the thing Georgie had become, but it was too quick for him. He barely had time to raise his arm as the creature went for his throat.

  “AEiii!” he screamed in pain and fear as the jaws clamped down on his arm. The pressure increased enough to break bone. “Help meeeee!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs.

  He kicked and thrashed, but there was no sign of Ronnie. She must have run away. He wished he could do the same, but his arm was firmly clamped in the maw of a huge wolf, and there was no escape. In
a burst of clarity, he knew he was going to die. The wolf stared knowingly into his eyes, relishing his fear and pain as it slowly increased the pressure on his arm.

  Suddenly it howled in pain and released him.

  Another monstrous wolf had come. It was almost as big as Georgie. David kicked as hard as he could and scuttled backward just as the newcomer ripped into Georgie’s vulnerable flanks, but he didn’t have the energy to rise, let alone flee. He was in shock and losing blood fast. His back was a sheet of agony, and his arm… he swallowed sickly. The muscle of his forearm was shredded, but the bone wasn’t broken. He knew because he could see it.

  “Now then,” he whispered between his pain-filled pants. “Remember your training, doctor. Stop the bleeding or the patient will go into shock and become comatose.”

  There was nothing to be done about his back. It was a mass of stinging pain, but he would have to hope that the injury was superficial. His arm most certainly was not. There could be tendon damage, certainly the muscle of his forearm was shredded and he was losing a lot of blood. While these thoughts went through his mind, he was tugging his belt free and attempting to fumble it one handed around his upper arm to slow the blood loss. He whimpered in pain as he pulled the fake leather as tight as he could above the ghastly wound. He watched the blood slow and stared when he saw movement in the wound. His tendons—unbelievably they were still intact and moving as his fingers spasmed with the pain.

  Over his panting, he heard the howling and pained barks of the wolves as they tried to rip each other apart. He watched the smaller one roll and land in a ragged heap. It was bleeding and favouring one leg as it gamely returned to the fight. The bigger one seemed in worse shape, but it was still strong. The small one launched itself upon the larger, and screamed as it was smashed to the ground by a huge paw full of claws.

  “No!” he shouted as Georgie buried her teeth in the belly of her enemy.

  There was a howl of agony followed a forlorn whimper. That was when he heard sirens. The police had arrived. The night lit suddenly with colourful flashes from patrol cars racing toward them. The huge wolf grinned with lots of teeth at David. The look promised retribution. Georgie spun in place then ran into the night.