Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1

by Mark E. Cooper

  Hoberman was angry at the defiance, but it was obvious he did not really want to win the argument. Alex well knew Hoberman’s views. Keeping David here went far against them.

  “Very well. I’ll sign the discharge papers and on your own head be it,” Hoberman said to David. He glared at Janice. “See me in my office before you leave this evening.

  Janice nodded a little uneasily. “I’ll come by at the end of my shift.”

  Hoberman waved the security guards away, all of whom looked relieved. No one wanted to see what a shifter was capable of first hand. With one last glare at Janice, Hoberman followed them out.

  “We need a few things,” Alex said. “A gurney and stand, an ambulance—”

  “I’ll get you whatever you need.” She clasped David’s hand. “I should have come with you to Mercy.”

  “Maybe you still can.”

  Alex nodded. “We need as many good people as we can get.”

  “Jan is good people,” David said and closed his eyes. They flickered open again. “Thank you for helping me. Hoberman is going to be pissed.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” Janice snarled but David didn’t hear her. He had finally succumbed to his exertions and was sleeping soundly.

  * * *

  4 ~ Mist

  David sat brooding in the dark of his room at Mercy Hospital. A week had gone by since he’d discharged himself and affronted Hoberman. Seven days in which Alex ran tests that both of them knew would lead nowhere. The serum had failed. The vaccine was as good as useless—worse, Alex told him that his reaction to it had been more than a little odd. There was a chance that the vaccine had made his condition worse, though neither of them knew how it would manifest or even if it would.

  He stared at his arm. He wasn’t really seeing it; he was seeing it as it had been. It had been shredded, maybe even beyond recovery, but now it was whole. There wasn’t even a scar. He was full of crackling energy, and it frightened him. He had never felt so alive, so full of vitality. He was horny as hell.

  He jumped to his feet. He had to do something even if it was just pacing, but as soon as he began moving, something else intruded. The I.V was still in his arm. He knew that without it he might slip into the change, but he was sorely tempted to remove it and take his chances. There was no cure for lycanthropy, and he had to face what he was at some point. Why not now? He hesitated a moment longer then closed the tap. He braced himself, but nothing happened. He stared at the I.V trying to feel if anything was different, but he felt the same—maybe a little nervous, a little apprehensive. That was to be expected though surely? He unpicked the tape securing the line to his arm. With another slight hesitation, he removed it and waited for something to happen. Nothing did. With a grim smile, he began his planned pacing. It was at least one way of burning up some of this excess energy.

  Running would be better—more fun.

  “Eeep!” David said in startlement.

  He was hearing voices… no, he was just talking to himself in his head. Everyone did that from time to time—right? If he was hearing voices, he might be called unbalanced, and he must not be. He had things to do.

  “You’re losing it, pull yourself together.”

  He took a deep breath and crossed the room to the drawer containing his clothes. For the next few minutes, he busied himself with dressing. Alex had been kind enough to arrange for fresh clothes. His old shirt and jacket were ruined. He put his wristband on and gathered up the loose change in the bottom of the drawer. His wallet went into his pocket next, but the final item in the drawer was not his. It belonged to the shifter he ran down in his car. Ronnie.

  “Who are you Ronnie?” he said fingering the battered leather of the wallet.

  “Who is Ronnie?” Janice said and gasped as David spun in a blur of speed to face the door.

  David grinned unaware of the fright he had just given his friend. “Hi, I wanted to thank you for all you did for me.”

  “I tried, but I didn’t—”

  “Save me?” he said and crossed the room to welcome her, but her sudden stiffness stopped him. He lowered his arms and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He stood there hunched in confused hurt wondering what to do to make it better. “It’s okay, Jan, I’m still me.”

  I think.

  The She smells good. We like her.

  This time he was able to mask his reaction, but inside he was shaking. He turned away to put some distance between them hoping that it would ease Jan’s discomfit. At the same time, it covered his sudden fear. He was cracking up from the strain! He was hearing voices. No, he wasn’t hearing voices, it was just his subconscious trying to come to terms with what he was now. That’s it; it was just his way of dealing with his duality.

  His fear lessened as he realised that he really might be onto something. A shifter had two sides; his human side, and his animal side. Maybe splitting one from the other was normal for shifters—a defence mechanism or something. His conscious self was still Doctor David Lephmann the human, and his subconscious was his animal nature—the wolf. Doctor and shifter, two personae, two voices… crap! He didn’t even believe it! He was grasping at straws hoping for sanity but already believing himself halfway mad at the same time.

  “David I—” Jan began.

  He could feel her confusion and smell her fear. It rolled over him in waves. Goddess help him, her fear excited him. He closed his eyes and kept his back turned, but it did not help. Every inch of his body yearned for the comfort he imagined he heard in her voice, but he would not give in. He forced himself not to move. He remained utterly still, determined not to touch and perhaps hurt her.

  An image of a wolf lying in the snow appeared in his mind. It sat up and turned to look into his eyes. There came a shocking feeling of recognition and David felt something click into place. Satisfaction rolled through his mind, and he somehow knew that the wolf was pleased.

  “David?” Jan said.

  She was so close he felt her breath caress his neck. He shivered and turned slowly to face her. Suddenly she was in his arms sobbing. He felt like crying too. He simply held her and waited for a sign from her to tell him what to do.

  A little later, they sat together discussing what had happened and what it meant. David showed her Ronnie’s wallet and told her how he came by it. His recounting of the accident and then Georgie’s arrival was met with horrified silence.

  “Why did you lie to the police?” Jan said. “Why not tell them everything?”

  He shrugged. “At the time I felt guilty. The accident was my fault. I should have been paying more attention.”

  “And later?”

  “She tried to save me. You should have seen them. Goddess, they were really something.”

  “You sound like you admire them!”

  “In some ways, I guess I do. It wouldn’t stop me from killing the one who did this to me,” he snarled at the thought of Georgie. “But they’re… I don’t know—larger than life or something. I don’t suppose that makes any sense.”

  “None at all,” Jan said with a small smile.

  David’s own smile was half grimace. “Ronnie could have run and left me, but she shifted shape and attacked. She told me to run, but I was losing too much blood. The fight lasted… oh three or four minutes I would guess. Ronnie was badly hurt. She might be dead. I don’t know. The last I saw her, she was dragging herself into an alley. I asked the paramedic about her, but she said I was the only one they found.”

  “And what about Georgie?”

  “She ran when the police arrived. They couldn’t catch her—lucky for them.”

  “She was that scary?”

  He saw those huge jaws coming for him again. “Oh yeah. She’s scary all right. You have no idea how much.”

  Janice looked through the wallet again. There was a small amount of money in five and ten dollar bills, and a piece of paper with some numbers on it. There was no identification of any sort. No driver’s license and no address to hint at wher
e to take the wallet if found.

  “These might be link numbers,” she said passing the paper across. “You could try them.”

  He nodded staring at the digits. “They’re a starting point at least.”

  The silence stretched out. He was thinking about discharging himself and going home. There was nothing to be done about his affliction. Alex had tried his best, but everyone knew that lycanthropy was incurable. He would have to try to live with it. In time, he would come to terms with his new situation. What other choice was there?

  “What do you plan to do now?”

  “Try the numbers I guess. Oh, you mean after?” he said and Janice nodded. “If Alex still wants me, I’ll stay on here. I had already half decided not to go back to Saint Bartholomew.”

  Janice bit her lip. “You know Alex will want you but—”

  “But?”

  “There might be a problem. Did you know Hoberman has links with AML?”

  “I suspected it,” he admitted. “You’ve heard him on the subject of shifters. He’s xenophobic, and that’s AML down to a tee. Do you know what they plan to do? I assume Hoberman told them what happened.”

  “I don’t know, but whatever they decide it won’t be good. Those fools are dangerous, David. And then there’s your position here to think of.”

  “My position?”

  “They could have you removed. You have—” she broke off unable to say the L word.

  “Lycanthropy. You can say it.”

  Jan avoided his eyes. “The point is, you have a contagious disease. It’s category one! They might use it against you.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. Would they let him continue practicing medicine? Alex wouldn’t object, but what if they did? With a chill, he realised that not only his private life was in ruins, but that his professional life was teetering on the edge also. He loved his work.

  He felt sick. What would he do if they made him give up practicing medicine? “I’ll worry about it when the time comes,” he said firmly. It was all he could say.

  “I have one bit of good news for you. I’ve made my transfer official, did you know?”

  “That’s great! Alex could really use the help.”

  “He was pleased,” she grinned at his snort. “Okay, closer to ecstatic.”

  “He’s good, Jan, really good. He knows stuff that no one knows. I’ve learnt a lot from him. Ask him to tell you about elven ceremonies.”

  “Their ceremonies?” she said with wide eyes. “You’re kidding right?”

  “Nope! He can talk for hours on the subject. Not that you’ll ever encounter any of the Sidhe here in LA, but theirs is an interesting point of view. Their magic is innate; it permeates everything they do. According to Alex, they think our use of magic in medicine is crude and wasteful.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “True. They might be arrogant, but they do know what they’re doing,” he frowned as an idea occurred to him.

  “What is it?”

  “I was just wondering what they know about shifters. Maybe they can help me.”

  Jan look dubious. “I don’t want you getting your hopes up. If they knew anything, don’t you think we would know it by now?”

  “They keep so many secrets, who knows what they know?”

  “Maybe, but you say Alex has an in with them. He would have heard something.”

  “Maybe,” he said in a distracted voice. He was wondering how he could meet one of the Sidhe and ask him. They just weren’t seen in human areas. They hated cities. “Maybe. Anyway, that’s for later.”

  “And what’s for now if I might ask?”

  “Home I think. We both know I’m just marking time here. Alex can’t do anything more than he already has done.”

  Jan nodded reluctantly and stood to leave. “I’ll get Alex.”

  “Thanks, and Jan?”

  “What?” she said holding the door open.

  “Thanks for being here.”

  She nodded once then left.

  Alex stopped by not long after Jan left. He took note of the missing I.V and nodded his approval. Fluoperazine-triphosphate was a powerful tranquiliser, but shifters had heightened metabolisms. Drugs of any kind given to shifters lost potency very quickly. The I.V would have been pointless in a few more days.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Alex said.

  “My car is still in the shop. I’ll need to call a cab.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “You have work, Alex. I’ll be fine with a cab.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Alex shifted uncomfortably, looking away for a moment. “Jan said something about your plans. The Sidhe?”

  “I was just thinking out loud, but they might know something that can help.”

  “They know many things, but I don’t want you getting your hopes up. I know something about this, David. Going to them won’t do you any good, and it might do a great deal of harm. They trust me… well, they trust me as much as they trust any human. I’ll look into this for you. Do you trust me?”

  “I trust you.”

  “Then I want your word that you’ll not try to contact them until you have spoken with me. I can’t emphasise this enough. The Sidhe aren’t all the same, no matter what you hear or read about them in the news. People call them the fair folk sometimes and think they’re beautiful, and physically they are, but don’t be fooled by that. The Seelie, and the Unseelie for that matter, do nothing without a price. You have to be very sure they’re asking for what you think they’re asking for. It’s no coincidence that the dwarves call them tricksy folk. They have always had that kind of reputation. Until quite recently, leading hapless human travellers off the path and into trouble was a common entertainment among them, and that kind of mischief is nothing compared with their other forms of entertainment. They may seem civilised, but they have their own standards of conduct that have no parallels with ours. Any similarities between them are coincidence. Believe me, I know.”

  “You have my word.”

  Alex nodded. “Let’s get you that cab.”

  David nodded and followed Alex out into the corridor.

  * * *

  5 ~ Anti Monster League

  David twitched the curtain aside enough to see the street outside. The two shadowy figures sitting in the car watching his house were still there, and he wondered whether it might be better to slip out the back. They were AML, but they hadn’t approached him. The first time he noticed them he’d gone out to talk, but when they saw him approaching, they drove off. Obviously, they were only here to watch him—a relief when he considered what AML was most known for.

  He let the curtain fall and tried to get back into the book Alex had lent to him. He had a number of them that his friend said might help, but this one seemed more fiction than fact. He had to wonder if there were any books actually written by shifters—surely the only real authority on them. He would try to find out, but being a shifter wasn’t exactly the kind of thing anyone advertised.

  He took a sip of his coffee and turned back a page trying to order his thoughts and be objective. He had just picked up the thread of what he’d been reading, when he heard another car pull up. He dropped the book on the couch beside him and rose to check the street again. He twitched the curtain aside and found Hoberman approaching his door.

  “Finally,” he said and went to his desk.

  He found his gun in the drawer where he always kept it, loaded it quickly, and dropped it into his jacket pocket. It was an old Model 83 revolver with two-inch barrel. No one but collectors owned such weapons anymore. He would have preferred something else, something more modern such as a police issue stunner, but such things were very hard to get without answering many questions. Gun registration was something he had always been very much in favour of, but it was working against him now. A stunner could be used on non-lethal settings, his gun could not. He was as likely to kill someone with it as wound th
em.

  The bell rang and he went to answer it. Hoberman was waiting with two friends flanking his shoulders. “I’ve been expecting you, George.” Hoberman didn’t like anyone using his first name, that’s why he’d used it.

  “May I come in?”

  David shrugged and stepped back. “Why not?”

  He led them into the sitting room. Hoberman’s eyes swept the space, maybe looking for witnesses, before settling back to David. His AML friends took position at his back their eyes never leaving David. Their dark jackets were unbuttoned and the telltale lumps under their arms told of concealed weapons. They had dead eyes, and David shivered. He might have made a mistake by allowing them in.

  “This is Benjamin, and this Thomas. They are my—”

  “Keepers?” David broke in.

  “Bodyguards,” Hoberman said quickly. “May I sit?”

  David indicated the couch and sat opposite. Hoberman’s goons did not sit. One moved to stand by the window, the other remained by the door. “You want something from me?”

  “Straight to the point, we can do that. I can help you, David.”

  “Help me? Help me how?”

  “Don’t be naïve; you know what I’m talking about. We both know you’re looking for the animal that attacked you, and who could blame you? Really, who would blame anyone for wanting revenge?”

  “I don’t want revenge, I want justice. The police—”

  “The police won’t help you; you’re one of the shifters now, but you needn’t let your sacrifice be in vain. Work with me, work with us, and I promise we’ll find the one that did this to you.”

  “And kill her?”

  Hoberman nodded. “Or if you prefer, deliver her to you so you can do it. We can work out the details later.”

  David stared, trying to see the man he had once respected. When he first joined the staff at Saint Bartholomew, he had looked upon George Hoberman as someone to emulate. He was famous in certain circles. Ian Goddard—Michelle’s father—knew him well, they had studied together. Both men were well respected members of the medical community. He couldn’t believe how naïve he had been to believe Hoberman’s reputation. It hadn’t taken him long to see the truth. The man was a dangerous bigot.