Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde

by Unknown

"Go, Rode." I rubbed my eyes, feeling like I'd overthought my place in his life again. "She's waiting for you."

  He turned and doggedly walked out, and even the thump of the closing door wasn't enough to make me believe he'd actually done it.

  He had really left me. To be with her.

  Work sucked, if it was actually possible. I believe it was the first time I said that about my job at The Mag, which was pretty much the only constant good thing in my life.

  It started the moment I walked in to my office.

  My morning ritual never changed: I sat down, fired up the PC, opened my desk drawer, and took out my coffee mug. It was a bright purple monstrosity that had a cat's tail for a handle and the words CRAZY CAT LADY on it.

  Today, I needed the comfort of my ritual more than ever because I craved a moment of normalcy. My home life, my anti-love life, everything was about as screwed up as it could get. I walked into my office, I sat, I punched the power button, and I reached down for my mug. But the mug wasn't there.

  My mug was always there. I always cleaned and stowed away my mug at the end of every working day. It was my equivalent of punching a time card.

  Looking around the room, I spied it on the window sill. I got up and stomped over to the window snatching up the cup. Half-filled with Dr. Pepper, flat and sticky and definitely not mine.

  I clenched my teeth at the sacrilege. Jasmine. I'd choke that girl. So much for punching in on time, I thought, as I stomped all the way to the break room so I could clean out my cup. When I passed Jasmine on the way back to my office, she looked at the cup and didn't say a word.

  But she smirked at me, with her beady dollar store-cosmetic painted eyes and that smug look.

  By lunchtime, I'd had all I could take before resorting to violence. Well, maybe not violence, per se. But definitely a lot of angry exhaling and slamming things around. I was pretty sure I could give her the ass-beating I couldn't give Aurelia but that would be bad for business.

  Lucky for Jasmine, she left on her break without telling me where she was going. I would have had to respond to her, and it would have sounded really pissy.

  I made sure she had completely left the office before walking over to Barb's office. By the positioning of her eyebrows and the way she chewed the cap of her red pen, Barb was having just as shitty a day as I was. Good. That made me feel a little better.

  She didn't look up when I flopped into the chair. "Something on your mind?"

  "Why, yes." I feigned a sweet tone and smiled. "My boss hates me, because she gave me an intern from hell."

  "Now, Sophie. She's not that bad."

  Not that bad? We weren't talking about biscotti from a vending machine here. Not that I wouldn't have minded if someone jammed her up inside one, sideways. "She's a little witch!"

  "Oh." She sat back and put her glasses on her desk. "I was wondering if you were going to react this way."

  "What way, disgusted? I dread coming here just because I know I'm trapped in close confinement with her for eight hours a day."

  Barbara tapped her thumb on her desk, her gaze lowered. "I'm really disappointed in you, Sophie."

  "Me?" I choked on spit and almost needed a slap on the back. "How about in her?"

  She folded her hands in her lap and gave me the soberest stare I'd ever seen coming out of her eyes. "I never took you for a bigot."

  "A b—what?"

  "I've never asked you to hold back anything, but this is not acceptable in the office. You can't disparage someone on their choice of religion."

  "Religion? Being a bitch is a religion now? Who knew?"

  "You knew. Wiccan practitioners are to be given the same consideration as any others. Really, I am surprised to find out you have something against witches."

  I just stared. Agape. "She's…a witch."

  "Yes, and if she or anyone else comes in with a report of your anti-wiccan views, I'll have no choice but to call human resources. Please, Sophie, don't let it come to that."

  I sank back into the chair, feeling utterly deflated. Over the last few years, I learned that my city and my world and my life were crawling with people who weren't actually people or who were only people some of the time. I'd been hunted by vampires and chased by werewolves, one of who wanted to marry me. Or something. All this time I'd been hiding it from my oldest friend because I didn't want her to find out I had a psychic entity living in my brain.

  And she was accusing me of bigotry? Holy fricken wow.

  That was it. I was clearing the air. I wasn't going to keep up this charade any longer. I hated keeping secrets. I'm too lazy to be good at it and I talked way too much to keep up my guard. And besides—I loved Barb. Not just I-love-working-with-her but I-love-her-as-much-as-I-can-love-another-person-without-it-getting-awkward.

  She was my friend. She was my foster family. She always told me the truth, she always gave me what I needed, and she always made me feel a lot less alone in the world.

  And all I'd done, since the night Marek pulled me off the top of a skyscraper, was lie to her.

  I couldn't let these days pass with her possible last memories of me being a bigoted liar.

  "Barb, I—" I steeled myself, wondering where to begin, ready to tell her everything. I wasn't even afraid of losing her because I felt like hiding my life from her was more like pushing her away, even if she didn't know it.

  That's when I looked down at my hand. Two scars. One Rodrian's, the other Stohl's.

  Damn it. I couldn't tell my secret without telling theirs.

  This was not the time to come clean, not when I wasn't certain of the ramifications. "I didn't know she was Wiccan. I mean—I really meant—she's a mouthy whore who keeps looking in my desk and she spills out my tea without asking and she spends a lot of time snap chatting when she could be typing and I can't stand the way she talks at me. That kind of witch."

  "Oh. Oh. I—" She rubbed her eyes. "Sophie, I thought you meant—"

  "Forget it." I leaned forward, begging her with clasped hands. "Just reassign her? Please?"

  "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

  "Because…" I prompted, sliding forward on my seat. Any closer and I'd have to hang on to the desk to keep from falling off the chair.

  She bit her lips a moment before pressing the intercom. "Amanda, I'm going out for lunch. Send everyone to voicemail."

  Her eyes were tight, brow as furrowed as a week's worth of bad copy. "You ready for lunch, Sophie? We should probably talk."

  Suddenly, I wasn't worried about the secrets I tried so hard to keep. I had the distinct feeling that Barb was going to be handing me some new ones to worry about.

  We walked uptown to the courtyard deli that Marek had often chosen for our lunch dates. It wasn't as crowded as it normally got in warmer weather; April was a free-for-all as far as weather went. Today was one of the chillier days, dim-skied and dull. We found a corner table where we could talk without worry of being overheard.

  My stomach had lurched when she chose the spot for us to sit. Privacy often heralded bad news. And, in my case, sometimes dangerous news.

  "I know all of this is going to sound really weird and foreign and bizarre but—I need you to know, even if you can't possibly understand." She took a deep breath and paused, perhaps reconsidering whether she should tell me. "I'm kind of under orders."

  "To give me a witch for an intern?"

  "It's not like that at all. Tom's request. He wanted to try out intern placement and thought your department was a perfect place to start."

  "But I don't need help—"

  "Yes, you do." She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite, tipping a finger at me while she chewed. "You know, two years ago you were a part-timer with a home-made column. Now, you're full time and nationally syndicated. They've had to hire two new slush readers since New Year's just to keep up with the email."

  "Slush readers?" My eyes flapped open so wide I thought I sprained one of my eyebrows. "You mean someone is screening my email? What
aren't I seeing? I could be missing—"

  "See?" Barbara cut me off with a point of her finger. "That's what I mean. You are trying to do everything single-handed. You do an amazing job, hon. You know that and I know that. But you have to work nearly seven days a week to keep up with it all. That's fine, really, if that's your choice but I know it isn't. And then there's the status of your health."

  What, did I have the consumption now? "I'm fine."

  "Now, maybe. But I think the stress is really piling up, Soph. Your sick day usage is a little extravagant. Not that you aren't entitled, of course, but when you aren't here, everything stops. You are the only one who knows what is going on in that office and that's bad for operations."

  God, I wanted to tell her so badly that what she thought was sick time was more like on-the-job-injuries from being Sophia. Or being bitten by a werewolf. It wasn't like I had a weak constitution. "Fine. I'll use an intern. Have Tom send me a different one."

  She shook her head and reached for a potato chip. "She's the only one."

  "Ugh. Why?"

  "Budget. Besides, I'm the one who gave her the position. She needs this chance, Sophie. I've known her mom a long time and I can't fire her."

  What a load. I couldn't believe the bum deal this intern business was turning out to be. "But you'd fire me for acting like a bigot?"

  "No, I'd publicly reprimand you and send you for sensitivity training."

  I glared at her. "Do you not see the irony in that?"

  "Yes." She broke rank from her Evil Boss persona and chuckled. "But I'd do it."

  We finished our lunch with no more talk of interns or witches. As I walked back to my office, I glanced over to the section where a certain Stapler Nazi once sat. I hadn't had trouble with any co-workers since the inimitable Donna Slate. For a swift but terrible second, I was glad she'd ended up slaughtered by the vampire she'd whored herself out to and wondered if Jasmine…

  Nah. That was too rude, even for me.

  But I wasn't above hoping a natural disaster would befall her. I couldn't be blamed for acts of God. Fingers crossed, it would be an extremely localized event.

  Since Jasmine was such a pro at getting the column work done, I left her with a list (and with an annoyingly patient voice explained each item, even though she didn't need the explanation. Bad Ass Sophie, that's me) and left early. I wanted to hit the expressway and get to Bluebell before rush hour.

  Traffic was a bear, but it was a steady-moving bear. I followed the GPS to the address Rodrian had given me and pulled into the mostly open lot. The building itself looked like many others in this area; angles of concrete and colored glass that made one picture the original concept sketches, right down to the placement of bushes and decorative trees.

  The company was identified only by its address over the main doors; the entrance sign listed a realty agency rather than the actual name of the company. Aerogenetek Laboratories.

  Thinking it a prudent move, I reached out and did a DV headcount. Perhaps twenty. Not so bad then, for a building this size.

  Rodrian said to look for a keypad by the door. I punched in the code that he'd given me and waited for the door to slide open. Once inside, the door closed behind me. A second keypad and a second code got me through it.

  The foyer was as sleek and as sketch—conception perfect as the outside. No reception, I noted; didn't think that was weird though, as I imagined Marek would have little use for a bright-eyed operator to wish him good morning every day. Instead, thought, there was a lively waterfall wall and fountain, its watery music filling the pristine space. The air seemed charged, an ionic freshness that made each breath tingle.

  A thin man with short auburn spikes and big brown hipster glasses approached from the left side, where I noticed a hallway. A matching hallway came into the foyer from the other side and a glass elevator shaft rose straight up from its position behind the waterfall wall. A double door mirrored the front entrance, as well as another keypad.

  Boy, Marek had liked his toys kept on lockdown, didn't he?

  "Sophie Galen? You had no trouble with the access code, then." As he drew nearer, he took a sharp breath. "Sophia."

  "Yes, I'm Sophie."

  "No, sorry, it's—" He stammered and rubbed the top of his head. "I just never met a—you know, Sophia before."

  "I know, it's trippy." I sincerely hoped this wasn't going to turn into a cow-eyed swoon fest. Sometime, a Demivamp had difficulty acclimating to me, or at least my reputation. Trouble was, I still had yet to become clear on exactly what that reputation was. "You're Kevin, I hope?"

  "Rodrian told me to expect you." His composure restored, he waved me to follow and walked back down the hall way from which he'd appeared. Offices and conference rooms lined the hall and a broad staircase stood at the midpoint. "We'll take these stairs here. I'm not sure why you wanted to come out, though. Are you assuming an interest in the lab?"

  I guessed that was his way of asking if I was his new boss. "Not in terms of leadership, no. I'm hoping you can share some of your research, though. On the Horus Bird Phenomenon?"

  "Well, I'd be the one to talk to. I'm the senior research coordinator. Although I'm not sure what a Sophia wants to know about hybrid mechanics."

  I recognized the phrase from Marek's big book. "I was very close to Marek Thurzo. This operation was very important to him and I just want to make sure that his work continues."

  "And?" At the top of the stairs, he prompted me along with a wave of his hand. "Sophia or not, I can tell when a human is being completely honest. What else do you hope to get from this?"

  I was taken aback by his directness, the almost physical weight of his assessment. "Well, I have a certain level of investment in the DV. Any loss—whether to death, or evolution, or this Horus Bird shift—is a personal loss to me. I'm trying to explore all avenues to see what can be done to serve the DV better."

  He must have bought that because the sense of scrutiny had lifted. "My office is near the end there. Why don't we take a look around before we head back there?"

  The upper floors were laboratories and equipment rooms. I noticed that, just as it was on the first floor, a set of keypadded double doors faced the elevators. Kevin walked us down to those doors and punched in a number. "Might as well start at the beginning."

  The doors slid open to reveal a thirty-foot tall chamber, the ceiling open to the sky in a glass dome. The center was a tremendous enclosure with an oak tree in its middle, lesser trees and contrived perches at its circumference.

  Oh, the birds. I'd never been up close to raptors, from smaller peregrines to several red-tailed hawks, so common in the local skies. Every size, every shape, each one bearing a sharp intelligence in its eyes and a cuff around one leg.

  "Are they…hybrids?" Although I'd been calling Marek the Wolfram in my head, I wasn't sure it would be an acceptable term to use with one of the DV.

  Kevin scratched at his head. "Unsure, actually. According to samples we've taken from them, we know they are a little different from typical examples. We keep them for comparison."

  I frowned. "Experimentation?"

  He shrugged. "Nothing inhumane. Blood draws, skin and feather samples. That sort of thing."

  I thought about the Wolfram, who was undoubtedly the sample that would become the gold standard. "Marek said there's been a lot of in vitro testing."

  "In the past, yeah, but it's getting harder to obtain Were subjects. Ethical complications."

  "Why not just kidnap a werewolf and bite him? That would work, wouldn't it?"

  He looked at me with shrewd suspicion. "Are you actually Sophie Galen?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "I can't imagine a Sophie would put a Demivamp at risk like that. We're not Mengelian monsters."

  I covered my mouth. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought—"

  "It's okay, Sophie." He steered me back to the door. "Everyone has thoughts when they get desperate. It's just important to avoid acting on thoug
hts like those."

  My shields up and back to him, Kevin couldn't see my expression. I knew then that I wouldn't have to worry about ethical issues with this guy. Silently, I thanked Rodrian for putting me in touch with the right kind of person.

  We walked back down the hallway to a set of small offices near the end. The door at the farthest end was closed. A plate next to it had been engraved. M Thurzo. I curled my fingers and pressed my arms to my sides.

  Kevin opened the door next to it. A broad desk was covered with folders, while a second desk bore an elaborate computer set-up that made me a teensy bit envious. He lifted a jacket off a chair and indicated I should sit down. "Rodrian said you were interested in the research here. But why? Is it because of Marek?"

  I blinked a few times, marveling at the clinical levelness of his voice. Then again, I reminded myself, Marek hadn't been his soul mate. "This was a very important cause to him."

  "It's important to all of us. We're grateful Rodrian saw fit to continue the work here."

  "Do you know what happened to Marek?" I ventured.

  He shrugged and flipped on his monitor. "Came close enough to Falling that he doesn't exist anymore. It's a risk we all face. You know that, right?"

  He didn't know, did he? I slid the knowledge away in case I need an ace from my sleeve later on. Shields still up, I nodded and continued playing the role of Sophia, Hybrid Research Ambassador. "Which is why I want to know about every aspect of this—transformation. I don't like the thought of losing another Demivamp."

  "Well, then you came to the right place. I've been Marek's senior officer here since he began the study. But why you—and why the Horus Equation?"

  "I have a degree in nursing, you know. I'm not clueless. Besides, Rodrian thought maybe the Sophia could figure something out."

  "No offense, Sophia, but it's a longshot." He drummed a pen against his leg. "There is nothing we've seen or collected or observed that we haven't pulled apart a hundred different ways. I appreciate your education and I admire your religious work, but there's nothing you can figure out that we can't."

  I was offended, and I wasted no time in letting him know it. Thinning my barriers, I expanded my power outward, swelling like a room full of smoke. Hovering just a few inches from his own power, I hung a moment before suddenly reaching out for him, engulfing him. His eyes flashed, gunmetal gray, and his power tasted like urgent fear at my sudden manifestation.