“Shall we?” David said.
“You want me inside?”
“It would be best, Andrew. She knows your face.”
“All right,” Brauer said. “She’s in five.”
Brauer led the way. David and Geoffrey entered right behind him leaving Ronnie and Lawrence to bring up the rear. Once inside, Ronnie held the door in case Chris bolted, and Lawrence covered the window.
“—to see you,” Brauer was saying. “They’re here to help.”
“Get out,” Chris said harshly.
“I think you—”
“Let me introduce myself, Andrew,” David said, stepping forward. “Perhaps she will see reason.”
“Very well,” Brauer said and moved aside.
“Who the hell are you?” Chris snarled.
“David Lephmann. I’m president of NSPCL. This is Geoffrey, that’s Ronnie, and my big friend by the window is Lawrence.”
“I know you,” Chris said with narrowed eyes. “Where do I know you from?”
“As I said, I’m head of NSPCL. You must have seen my picture in the papers. I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Yes you do. That crap in your arm won’t save you forever. You have to confront it and learn to control it.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then it will control you.”
Chris glared. “Nothing controls me. Not even my captain.”
“It will. I want you to come with us for a short while.”
“Where?”
“A place we call Sanctuary. You need to learn some things quickly before you mess up your life for good.”
Chris laughed bitterly. “You don’t think its already messed up?”
“Not yet. The old Chris is dead; she died in a dirty alley. The new one is like a blank page. It’s time to start a new chapter.”
“Very poetic,” she sneered. “I’m not going anywhere with shifters. One of you did this to me. Infected me. When I find him I’ll—”
“We know what you will do,” he said hastily. “We’ve all been through it. Doctor Brauer, however, is not one of us. He doesn’t need to hear the details—Lieutenant.”
Chris’ face blanked; all emotion had fled. It would have been unnerving if he hadn’t seen it on so many of his people’s faces.
“What does she say?”
“What?”
He smiled encouragement. “Your beast. What does she say?”
Chris looked uneasy. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. Your beast speaks to you in the silence of your mind.”
He smiled remembering his own shock when Mist first spoke to him. He had believed he was going mad at first, but then he realised it was too late for that. The duality was part of being a shifter. None of his people were sane by human standards.
“You will hear her better after the first Change.”
“You’re crazy,” Chris whispered then screamed, “You’re crazy!”
“We all are,” Geoffrey said happily.
“Get them out of here!”
Brauer hesitated but then shook his head. “I’m sorry. You really do need David’s help. Really.”
“I don’t want you and don’t need you,” Chris snarled. “Get out!”
David shook his head. “Andrew, if you would leave us?”
Brauer looked startled and uncertain. “I… yes, yes of course.” He hurriedly left the room.
The moment the door closed behind him, everyone turned to study Chris intently. She shifted uncomfortably under their eyes, knuckles whitening as her grip upon the bed covers tightened.
David smiled. “Do you feel horny?”
“What?” Chris yelped.
“It’s a simple question,” he said, fighting not to laugh. “Don’t worry that I want to jump your bones. Just answer the question. Do you feel horny?”
“No.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not—”
“Chris…” he sighed deeply, “have you had no training? No of course you haven’t, the police are very lax on the subject aren’t they?”
Chris’ eyes narrowed at the slight. “What subject?”
“Non-humans of course. Take my word that I can smell a lie as well as I can smell your current condition. Do you need help dressing? Ronnie will help you.”
“I don’t need help. I need to…”
“Go on.”
“I’m not injured. More magic?”
He knew what she had been going to say. She needed to hunt down the one responsible. He sympathised with her, but she needed to learn a few things before she would be fit to walk the streets.
“In a way,” he said answering her question. “It’s not magic such as the elder races or the Council uses. It’s part of you—part of what you are now. Think of it as a talent we all possess.”
“I don’t want it, any of it!”
He waited for her to calm down. New recruits all went through this stage. He ought to force her to come with him, but that sort of thing was always distasteful to him, no matter how necessary it had proven to be on occasion. If asked, Ronnie and the others would urge him to take Chris in hand here and now, but he didn’t want to do that. She would resist if he forced her.
“I’m not going with you,” Chris said, giving in to her fantasy that nothing would change. “I have a life and a job that means something to me. I’m not going with you.”
David shook his head slowly. She was in denial. That happened a lot in the beginning, but he had hoped for a different outcome for her. She had made the wrong decision, but his choices were clear; force her to come with him now and make another enemy, or wait and hope that she would come to him before it was too late.
“I can’t make you,” he said, abruptly making the decision to wait. Geoffrey fidgeted, knowing he was lying.
“You’re damn right you can’t!” Chris said hotly.
“But I do urge you to reconsider.” He stepped up to her bedside and offered his card. “Keep this. When you realise what you are and what it means, call this number day or night.”
She stared at the card for a long moment then took it. She was careful not to touch his hand. “That’s it? No advice?”
“My advice is to come with me now, but you won’t take it. Will you?”
“No.”
David turned away and opened the door. “Take care,” he said over his shoulder and walked out as if the matter was of no consequence. It was hard, but he kept walking.
* * *
“Take care.”
Chris watched the others file out after Lephmann, but the woman stopped by the door.
“When it gets unbearable, remember us. We’ve all been through it.”
“What?”
The woman walked out.
Chris lay quietly looking at the card. It was a simple thing, plain white with an acronym and link number in gold text. “NSPCL.”
She looked around and located the buzzer. A single button press and a short wait later she was questioning Doctor Brauer.
“I can leave?”
Brauer nodded. “Apart from lycanthropy, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Nice touch,” she said bitterly.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound unfeeling, but a case like yours… well, there’s very little we can do.”
“Lycanthropy—it’s incurable right?”
“I’m afraid so. Research has come up dry on the subject. Gene therapy, drugs, magic... nothing works. There’s nothing to treat you see.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Healing spells used on shifters always fail. It’s as if—according to your body at least—there’s nothing wrong with you. I’m sorry, but you’re just not human any longer.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, but then he brightened. “I can tell you one piece of good news—you’re one hundred percent fit. That’s easy for me. Lycanthropes are always a hundred percent fit—someti
mes more.”
Brauer’s attempt at humour passed her by. She tried to take in her situation, but the monstrousness of it overwhelmed her. No longer human; just like that she was one of the monsters. How can something as fundamental as her humanity be gone? She couldn’t think. She couldn’t decide what to do.
“The IV?” she asked, finally fixating on something physical.
“I’ll remove it for you.”
“No, I meant the stuff stops the change.”
Brauer nodded. “It’s a short term thing.”
“I’ll need some to take with me.”
“No.”
“No?” If the stuff in the IV hadn’t stopped her, she would have shouted the question. “What the hell do you mean no?”
“No, you can’t have any. I’m sorry, but you’ve been on it for three nights and days. Your metabolism processes it very fast and your tolerance for it has already risen. It will seem to lose potency. After a week of constant use, it will have no effect. I can’t waste the little I have here.”
She didn’t know what to do. If she couldn’t rely upon drugs to keep her sane, what could she rely on? All she knew about shifters was what she had learned on the street. Keeping them calm was key and not getting too close when questioning them. If she had to arrest one, she always called backup, but how did any of that help her now?
“What do I do, what can I expect?”
“Didn’t David say?”
“I didn’t give him time.” She wished now that she’d asked more questions.
“Oh.” Brauer shifted uncomfortably. “I always call him when I get—”
“A shifter?”
“I was going to say a case like this, but yes. When I get a case I’m unable to deal with, I call him. He usually handles this.”
“Well he’s not here, is he?”
“I could try to reach—”
“No!” she snapped. “I don’t want shifters near me.”
“That’s understandable but very awkward. I can tell you that without the drug you will be able to shift your shape. You need David or someone like him. Believe me, you do.”
The thought of turning into something else made her feel ill. She shook herself and concentrated on the here and now. “What else is there?”
“Nothing.”
“There must be something you can tell me.”
Brauer shook his head. “That’s it.”
“That’s all you know?” she asked in outrage. He was supposed to know about this stuff. She had been counting on it!
“I’m not a lycanthrope, Miss Humber. I don’t know how they do it, or more importantly, how they stop from doing it. I only know what I’ve observed or picked up over the years. Lycanthropes are stronger and tougher than humans are. Their senses are heightened. They regenerate but are allergic to silver. Their metabolisms run at a higher rate. You’ve probably noticed that you have a temperature?”
“No I—”
“Well you have and you haven’t. One hundred and eight degrees is high and dangerous for a human, but for you it’s normal. Your temperature is part of the metabolic process. You will eat more. On a more personal note, the flab you’re carrying will be gone soon. No lycanthrope is fat; they burn energy too quickly.”
“This isn’t flab,” she said, stung by the observation. “I’ve always had love handles.”
Brauer didn’t laugh. “Love handles are the least of your worries now. I think you need to reconsider David’s offer.”
“No.”
“Then you’re on your own,” Brauer said with a sigh.
“That’s it?”
“I’ll sign the release papers now. You’re free to go,” he said and left.
She stared at the door in silence.
* * *
8 ~ Accusations
“Are you awake, Chris?”
Chris rolled over to find her partner standing uncertainly in the door. He hadn’t shaved and his clothes were rumpled.
“Where have you been? You look like crap.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. He stepped further into the room and let the door go. It clicked shut. “How are you?”
“You know?”
“Yeah.”
She sat up. “Where were you? Where were you when that thing got me? You’re my partner.”
“I was in the car, remember?”
Did she? She tried to force her memory back, and the image of something—a Dumpster?—flashed into her mind. There was something else… a flashlight lying discarded upon the ground. She shook her head when nothing else came back to her.
“I told you to wait, Chris, but you wouldn’t listen. You never listen! I called for backup, but by then you were down.”
Anger slowly began to burn inside. He made it sound like it was her fault! It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t!
“You should have been there, Ken. You should have b-backed m-me u-up.” Damn! She didn’t want to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Ken said, close to tears himself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but the fact is you messed up, Chris. If I’d been there we would both be dead or…”
“Worse?” she said, anger building. “Isn’t that what you were about to say?”
He nodded.
“Well it can’t get worse for me!” she screamed in sudden fury.
Ken stepped back edging for the door.
She could smell his fear, and something snarled deep inside. Something was coming. Oh Lady, something monstrous was coming!
“Get out, Ken. Get out quick!”
“I don’t understand—”
“Get the fuck out!”
“I’m sorry,” Ken gasped and bolted out the door.
Oh Lady, it’s coming.
She could feel it rising within her, the beast—her beast—was coming. She ripped off the sensors attached to her body, ignoring the piercing howl of the alarms, and threw the bedclothes back. Her frightened eyes were locked on the bag of tranquilliser as she stood and reached for the tap. She twisted it full open.
“What in the nine hells are you doing?” a nurse shouted as she rushed in. “You’ll kill yourself!”
“It’s coming. Please help me,” Chris pleaded. “It’s coming.”
“Mother Goddess—” the nurse gasped and bolted out the door.
“Don’t go! Don’t leave me here with it.”
It was close. She gritted her teeth and prayed that it not come. She prayed and prayed, and forced it back down. It snarled and spat in fury at its imprisonment within her, but something held it back—the drug. She watched the half-empty bag with frightened eyes, willing it to work. Slowly, agonisingly, the beast lost ground to the drug.
Sprawled across the bed, she blinked lazily up at the ceiling. She didn’t remember lying down. Everything was quiet, inside and outside. Pretty colours floated by as the room spun about.
Darkness.
She awoke to find Brauer peering worriedly into her eyes.
“Something wrong… apart from the other thing I mean?”
“Tsk,” he said with an irritated sigh. “You’re a very lucky woman. You have no business breathing after what you pulled.”
“It was coming.”
“No doubt it was, but killing yourself isn’t the way to deal with it.”
“No?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Feeling sorry for yourself is understandable, but it gets old quickly. You said something earlier about finding the one responsible for your condition. You’ll not find him if you’re dead. Will you?”
“I suppose not.”
Brauer stepped back to let her up. She found her clothes in a drawer, but she knew immediately they weren’t the ones she must have been wearing when they brought her in. She wondered where her work pants and jacket were. She always wore a variation of those while on the job. She shook out the jeans and polo-neck sweater—they were hers all right.
“Who brought these in?”
“A friend of yours I believe. Mark Grinely?”
Oh Lady, she had been so full of self-pity she hadn’t considered Mark. He must be frantic. She would go to him. It was a surprise not to find him barging in, but a relief too. She needed to get her own head straight before she could ease his mind. Her eyes prickled. What was she going to do?
“Does he know about me?”
“I didn’t tell him, but yes, he knows. Everyone knows.”
Everyone, what did that mean? “If I could be alone for a minute?”
Brauer nodded. “Certainly. I’ll be right outside.”
The door clicked shut behind Bauer and Chris dressed quickly in the clothes Mark brought. The jeans felt rough on her skin and they were looser than they should be. She remembered Brauer’s crack about her flab. It had started, just as he said it would. She wadded up the gown and threw it hard against the wall.
She took a deep breath and stepped outside into chaos. Nurses and other hospital staff rushed back and forth, trolleys rattled and crashed on their way to Goddess knew where, and the hum of voices filled the place.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh this is typical for Monday,” Brauer said, nodding at the rushing bodies. “I have your release here.” He offered her an official-looking document. “And here we have your badge and other things.”
She took the paper bag and looked inside. There was her dad’s old wallet that she used on the job. It had a couple of hundred dollars in it, but she ignored the bills to look at the snap of her parents. She needed to call them. Along with her badge, and ID, there was a clean hanky—because Mama always said you never know when you might need one—and her shoulder holster was here but…
“Where are my weapons?”
“The police have them.”
Yes, they would take them. She couldn’t remember doing it, but it was a sure bet she had fired one or both of them. CSU would want it to match any rounds they found at the scene… wherever that was.
“Thanks for this.”
“I wish I could do more,” Brauer said.
“So do I,” she said glumly. “You have my insurance details?”
He smiled. “Don’t concern yourself with any of that. Your department footed the bill.”
“Oh.”
That was a surprise, but a pleasant one. The Department didn’t usually have the resources for that kind of thing. Hell, it didn’t have the resources to police the streets effectively, let alone provide medical cover for its officers. Her insurance wasn’t that extensive and…
Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2 Page 63
