Dr. Jace stood next to me, scrutinizing my every move.
“Watch.” I bent my leg and extended it. “See, it works just fine. No pain.” I’d changed into an old pair of pajama pants and an ancient Radiohead T-shirt of mine someone had scrounged from my old bedroom at the main lodge. As my pajama leg eased up, I caught a glimpse of the thick dark hair coating my once cleanly shaven leg and stifled a gag. “And, um, other than all this gross hair, I’m totally good.” No amount of money could make me look under my arms. My eyes had remained firmly closed. Apparently after a full change, your hair came back. All of it.
“You will use these for now.” Doc nodded toward the crutches. “If you prove to be better later, well then, we will reevaluate at that time.”
A head of lettuce would’ve been easier to convince, so I took the damn things and stuffed them under my arms as I stood.
The walk from the infirmary to the house I’d grown up in was a short distance across a nicely manicured lawn. No one else was out, likely on my father’s orders. This spring had been unusually rainy and the grass was a bright, startling green.
The Lodge, as it was affectionately known, had been built in the late ’30s and had served as the Northern Territories home base ever since. The worn red cedar plank floors were a welcome sight as I entered. Doc stepped in ahead of me. “Jessica, would you care for another cup of coffee or perhaps some tea?”
“Coffee would be great. Thank you.” He veered toward the kitchen and I continued into the enormous two-story living area. The fireplace, set with stones quarried directly from the lake, covered the entire eastern wall.
It was beautiful, but it wasn’t as good as what was awaiting me.
“Nick!” I dropped the crutches without a thought and jumped immediately into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Easy there, Jess.” Nick enveloped me in a big hug, and then stepped back to give me a careful perusal. “Hmm, you do look pretty good. No lingering fur or fluffy ears to speak of, but how’s the leg?”
“All healed.” To prove my point, I slid down the side of my pajama waistband to reveal the top of my hip. The only thing still visible was a slight red discoloration. “See? Pretty cool, huh?”
“That is impressive.”
I pulled him down on the couch beside me. Along with being my best friend, Nick was a werefox, not a wolf. In the world of shifters, your strength and size matched your animal, so he wasn’t a huge guy, topping out at around six feet. His father had been First Nation Canadian, his mother white. He had light copper skin and shaggy dark hair. He was a welcome sight after all the craziness.
“I’m really glad to see you,” I told him. Nick calmed me in a way no one else could, and he had since we were children. “This whole thing has been slightly insane. I’m having trouble believing it actually happened.”
“Well, I’m just happy you made it through the transition in one piece.” Nick’s eyes were an amazing dark golden color naturally and they lit for a moment with a hint of emotion, making them appear even more brilliant. “You could’ve been killed.”
Before I could respond, my father and James Graham, his second-in-command, strode in. James wore his standard-issue black T-shirt and camouflage cargos, the same uniform I’d seen him in my entire life. The ensemble matched his short dark hair and olive skin perfectly, adding a unified blend of menace and strength to his tall frame. James was an impressively large wolf, with a pair of huge shoulders, and would’ve stood out in any outfit, but I was glad to see he hadn’t changed at all.
My father acknowledged Nick with a quick nod. “Nicolas.”
“Hello, sir,” Nick answered, scrambling to stand.
“How’s your leg, Jessica?” my father asked as I rose.
“All healed.”
He looked me over for a few seconds, then gave me a quick nod.
James approached me. “It’s good to see you, Jessica,” he said as he encircled my waist in a warm embrace. His rough Irish brogue was still infectious after all this time. “Glad to see you are well.”
I gave him a hug. “It’s been too long, James.” I smiled as I stepped back. “Far too long.” He’d been instrumental in my final departure from the Compound seven years ago and I was happy to see him. Without his support I might never have left, and it had cemented a bond of friendship between us that hadn’t existed before.
“Let’s head into my office.” My father strode into an adjacent opening off the living room and disappeared inside.
The rest of us followed. As we came in, my father set two chairs in a semicircle in front of the leather couch facing the windows. His office had originally been the old library, and rows of beautifully crafted bookshelves lined the walls. It also had a superb, unobstructed view of the lake.
“Jessica, please take a seat on the couch. Nicolas, you sit beside her.”
We sat immediately.
Without needing to be asked, James took the chair next to my father, leaning over and bracing his forearms on his thighs, ready to start the discussion.
My father sat straight and imposing. Physically he was a few inches shorter than James, but his body held more mass. His strong arms spilled out of his rolled-up dress shirt. My father was always dressed for the occasion. I’d never seen him run a serious meeting in a T-shirt and jeans. My father was a leader. There was no mistaking it.
“Nicolas,” he began. “After this briefing I want you to find out everything you can about the rumors circulating in the supernatural community concerning Jessica or a recent shift. See if any news has spread outside of this Compound. If you find anything out of the ordinary I want to hear about it immediately.” My father continued, “That will be your top priority. But for now, let’s start with a replay of what happened early Saturday morning when you first arrived at Jessica’s apartment. I know you’ve already relayed it to me, but I want to hear it again from start to finish.” He nodded my way. “And I’m sure Jessica would like to hear what’s happened in her absence.”
“Yes, sir.” Nick turned toward me.
“This should be interesting,” I joked, hoping to ease some of Nick’s tension, which smelled like burned toast to my new nose.
“Tyler called me around two-thirty a.m. the night you shifted,” Nick said. “He was worried and thought you were in trouble. I jumped into my car and immediately called Marcy, and told her to meet me there. I knew if there’d been some kind of a disturbance at your place there was a strong chance your neighbors had already called the police. Having her there would make things easier.”
“Good thinking, ace,” I said. That was the best news I’d heard since I jumped off my three-story balcony. Marcy Talbot, the secretary at our firm, was a very talented witch, even though she refused to give herself any credit. Marcy hated working under pressure, and had the misfortune of constantly misfiring her spells in stressful situations, which kept any coven from accepting her. But when she did perform, it was completely mind-blowing.
“Marcy and I arrived at your complex at about the same time,” Nick continued. “It was a total miracle we made it there before the police. It was a mess and people were milling around all over your hallway. Marcy conjured a spell on the spot, something that made everyone think they were needed elsewhere. Once they cleared out, we slipped into your place unseen.”
“Go, Marcy,” I said. “How did the apartment look? My wolf busted up a lot of stuff trying to get the hell out.”
“ ‘Busted up’ is on the tame side.” Nick flashed me a cynical grin. “It looked more like you laid a bunch of C-4 around the place and blew it up. There were piles of demolished furniture everywhere and the floor was trashed with huge gouges. Your bedroom was the worst. But we didn’t have time to clean it all, because the police sirens were getting close. Marcy had a brainstorm to make it look like something busted into the apartment, instead of you jumping out. So she made your sliding glass door look like it had been punched from the outside in.”
I
nodded along. “Brilliant.”
“After that she was almost drained.” Witches needed to refuel when they conjured consecutive spells. “So we ran back to your bedroom, because we knew it had to be clean or it would’ve launched a huge investigation. That much unexplained blood would have to be accounted for.”
“Did you make it?”
Nick nodded. “Yes. She had enough power left to make it look like you hadn’t been home at all, bed made, everything tidy.”
I murmured, “Perfect.”
“We barely made it out before the police arrived, but we couldn’t leave the building without them spotting us, so we ducked into Mr. Stubbard’s apartment next door.” Nick glanced at my father. “Jess’s neighbor directly to the east. Then it was my turn to do a little bespelling of my own. I convinced Mr. Stubbard to go back to sleep after he let us in. Marcy and I stuck around and watched bad TV until the police took off, and that’s it in a nutshell.”
Nick possessed the extremely useful gift of mind persuasion. Lots of supes had special abilities to go along with their true natures. A power like persuasion usually only worked on weak-minded humans, but was handy to have nonetheless. As far as extra abilities went, my brother was able to run twice as fast as any other wolf, and James could heal in half the time it took anyone else, which was amazing to watch. There were no guarantees you’d inherit a special gift. It was all a matter of what was already coded in your genes. I was hoping like hell I’d get one, but I had no idea how long it took for them to surface.
“Marcy’s going to need a raise. Witches don’t work for free,” I told Nick. “Without her I’d be completely screwed. It’s going to be hard enough to come up with a statement to give to the police, but this will help immensely. A break-in is much easier to explain than a breakout.”
“Oh, and here’s your phone.” Nick pulled it from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. “I found it on top of a pile of debris. I just happened to see it on the way out. Nobody leaves town without their phone these days.”
“Thanks.” I took it and tucked it into the waistband of my pajama pants. “Did you happen to see my purse too?”
Nick looked stricken for a moment. “No, I—”
“Don’t worry,” I interrupted quickly. “Nick, honestly, you did a perfect job of covering my ass, as usual. Guys never have purses on their radar.” Marcy would’ve grabbed it if she’d seen it, I was sure, but it was probably buried underneath a pile of rubble. I glanced to my father. “Do we still have a stockpile of backcountry camping passes? I’ll use a last-minute overnight camping excursion as my excuse for not being home.” We were surrounded by deep woods and national forests up here.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” my father said. He turned to Nick. “You did an excellent job, Nicolas. You’ve proven yourself time and time again as an asset to this Pack.”
Nick bowed his head at the compliment. My father didn’t mete them out often.
“The break-in will allow us to take care of the first step with the human police,” my father said. “Now comes the hard part, and James and I have already discussed some of the possible scenarios.” He turned toward James. “There are dangers attached to keeping you here and allowing you to go home. Each option gives me pause.”
James picked up the thread, his Irish lilt giving it a rough, pleasant texture. “If you stay here, Jessica, I feel it will announce to the Pack, in no uncertain terms, that you’ve already become a full-blooded wolf. I think it’s an unnecessary risk to take. The wolves here are agitated already. They know they heard something last night. They’re just unsure what it was. If we can possibly keep your shift a secret, and give you a shot of going back to a normal life, we should do that.”
“There’s one more thing in favor of you heading back home,” my father added. “Anyone in the supernatural community who had an idle suspicion that Jessica McClain was really Molly Hannon will be on high alert. They will be looking for you to be missing. If Molly disappears, right as rumors of Jessica McClain turning into a wolf surface, you might never be able to go back to that life, and preserving your alias is a high priority. It would be extremely hard to give you another identity at this point. Supes are tricky, and many are familiar with you from your chosen line of work.” He held his tongue, but I knew what he wanted to say—that I’d been reckless and made poor choices regarding my career path, and as it sat right now he’d be right. It’d been a tough battle to convince him to let me involve myself in the supe community in the first place, but after I ended my short stint as a police officer, I had only a few options left open that made any sense. In the end, and likely against his good judgment, he’d allowed Nick and me to open Hannon & Michaels Investigations, with the understanding that I would act solely as Nick’s Essential, his human companion, and we would take only low-risk cases. It’d worked, and now I was on the brink of losing my hard-fought-for life. It scared me. “Letting you go back to your life until we see how this unfolds may be the safest place for you. But I don’t like it,” he growled. “Keeping you here under lock and key is what my gut is telling me to do.”
“If news of my shift leaked today, how many wolves do you think would actually be a serious threat to me right out of the gates?” I asked.
My father studied me closely. “Out of the hundred and fifty-nine wolves under my immediate directive, not including outlying Canadian or Alaskan wolves, I believe there are only a few—ten to twelve at most—who still hold tightly to the belief that you will bring about the ruination of the Pack if you become full blooded. The majority are undecided, but could be swayed quickly if the loudest of the opposition gained momentum before we were able to shut it down. I don’t want to worry you any more than necessary, but this morning the Cain Myth resurfaced on several U.S. Pack sites. It could be a coincidence, it does come up once in a while, but it’s likely tied to the unease. We haven’t figured out where it was generated from this time, but we’re working on it.”
“Already?” I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “That can’t be good.”
“In this instant age of technology,” my father shook his head, “I have no way to stop it. It infuriates the hell out of me, but it proves beyond a doubt there’s already speculation and unrest within our own ranks, and getting you back to your old life and out of danger is an absolute priority. If we can stop the momentum and keep your shift under wraps, we have a chance to calm the uprising; if not, we may possibly have a civil war on our hands. It’s my job as Pack leader to keep that from happening at all costs.”
The goddamn Cain Myth.
A few nonsensical verses typed on a plain sheet of paper had shaped my entire existence. The Myth had been mailed to the Compound with no postmark exactly one month after my birth. Whether it carried an ounce of truth had never mattered. It had achieved its goal from the start—to seed unrest inside the Pack, while ruining my life in the process. I knew the lines by heart. They were etched in my mind permanently, like a bad stain:
As a Female in Wolf Skin rises, the unborn Daughter of Cain is born;
In her the beast shall lie, well hidden in True Form;
And from this day forth, the Wolves of the Night shall pay;
Blood and flesh of their bones, her mighty hand shall slay;
The end of the race will be close at hand;
When the Daughter of Evil rules the land.
Did I believe I was the daughter of Cain? Of course not. But fear was a powerful motivator, especially for the extremely superstitious wolves. When the Cain Myth arrived, I’d been told it sent the wolves into a frenzy, many calling for my father to end my life. It’d taken a few years to quell that unrest, but the Myth had lingered, rearing its ugly head throughout my childhood, causing never-ending trouble for me. Things had finally leveled off, but only because I hadn’t shifted into a wolf at puberty, and ultimately I’d fought my way off the Compound. Out of sight, out of mind.
Now I was back.
“It can’t be a coinci
dence,” I muttered. If our entire history wasn’t structured around myths and legends, and wolves weren’t the most superstitious beings on the planet, my life would’ve been a hell of a lot easier.
My father cleared his throat. “The wolves can speculate all they want, but until they have absolute verification—which can only come from me—they will continue to be unsure, which is why I’m leaning toward sending you back. But honestly, Jessica, not having you near me, not being able to protect you myself, goes against every fiber of my being.”
I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Dad, listen.” I touched his leg. The contact felt good. “This is the right thing to do. I know it’s going to be a rough road, and things are uncertain, but I have to at least try to salvage my life. If I stay here, there’s still no guarantee of my safety. You can’t hold my hand or lock me in my room forever, and with the wolves on edge it’s better for me to leave now. We have to give it a chance.”
My father stared at me for a long time. Then he turned to James, and without words they made a silent agreement. “Okay, we’ll give it a chance.” His words held a solemn note. “But I’m not sending you back without adequate protection.”
I nodded, accepting his decision. Having bodyguards would likely be my new norm from now on. I could live with that.
He straightened in his seat. Now that we had a plan, it was time to delegate. “Nicolas will take you home immediately,” he said. “Tyler and James will follow you down shortly. Danny is already there, and I’ll put him and his team on high alert within the city limits. It’s my feeling we will know within a few days what the fallout will look like. I will be in contact with you daily.”
I took a breath. “I completely understand the need for backup, especially now,” I said carefully. “But like you said, if anyone suspects Molly Hannon is Jessica McClain, now would be the perfect time to snoop around in my life. If they spot wolves near my building, we can bank on trouble sooner rather than later. Molly Hannon isn’t known to entertain wolves.” In fact, nobody entertained werewolves. They were an elusive bunch, with a hefty dose of superiority. They didn’t mix well with others.
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