by Kathy Lyons
He meant to the world at large, to all those people who are not in on the secret. “Yeah, well, that’s a discussion for another day. Right now, I have a flu to stop and—”
“We can help you with that. We have a lab with scientists who are in the know.”
“Like Dr. Sherilyn?”
All three werewolves curled their lip in disgust, but it was the beta who spoke. “Cats are notoriously isolationist. They don’t share, and she is outside the city right now. We have a lab inside. Surely you want to meet the scientist who has already isolated—”
“It’s the twenty-first century, guys. Give me their email addresses. We don’t need to communicate in person.”
Mr. Sims’s expression flattened out. “This information is highly sensitive. We value our people’s safety above all things. We do not share—”
“Then I think you’re the ones being isolationist. Scientists share data. It’s what we do.” Truthfully, that was a bit of a lie. Researchers could be as territorial as anyone, but she wasn’t going to go to some secret lab with these people. Not even with Hank tagging along for protection. She didn’t know if it was his paranoia creeping into her or the fact that she had juicy data sitting on her phone from the supposedly territorial Dr. Sherilyn. Either way she had plenty to work on without visiting some secret lab with guys who picked her lock while she was sleeping. Which meant she was done with this conversation.
“Look guys, this has been fun and all—”
The werewolves attacked.
The speed of it was so startling that Cecilia kept talking while it was going on. “—but I’ve got a ton of work—Eep!”
One werewolf jumped across the table, wrapped an arm around her chest, and hauled her backward. The other two shifted in the blink of an eye. Suddenly wolves were leaping out of their clothing, and as they jumped forward, Hank tripled in size.
The table was knocked aside, banging hard into her knees. She was already screaming, but the bastard’s meaty fist was on her mouth, muffling everything she did. She tried to bite down. She tried to kick and claw, but she hadn’t the strength or the leverage. And pretty soon she was pinned against a muscular human chest.
Meanwhile in front of her was a battle too dizzying for her to follow. She saw Hank, big and black in the center of the room. His claws were huge and he fought with precision as wolves came at him from every side. He’d told her wolves were fast, but she hadn’t processed what that meant. They were constantly in motion, leaping at him, taking a swipe or a bite, then landing out of his reach. Two of them worked together to keep Hank from doing anything but defending himself.
Or so she thought. Until he connected one of his razor-sharp claws with a wolf. She heard the canine yelp and blood spurted in the air, but she couldn’t see more. The other one was still coming at him, and there was definitely blood on Hank’s face and torso. His? Theirs?
All the while, she was being carried steadily toward the door. The only reason she wasn’t there already was that her captor had to avoid the battle.
Panic clawed at her throat. Not just for her, but Hank, too. The terror of being dragged away against her will and the rapid violence in front of her. Too fast to process except for panic. Too much to see except chaos and blood.
And Hank. In the center with flashing teeth and claws.
Then something flew at her. Something large and furry. She barely saw it coming when she felt the impact. A wolf, heavy and squirming. It knocked her off her feet. More important, he slammed her captor backward as well.
She felt the impact as the bastard holding her crunched against the kitchen counter. She was breathless and squished, but also suddenly free. While the huge werewolf scrambled away, she fell forward onto her knees. She started moving as fast as she could. Away from the assholes. And screaming loudly.
Someone had to help them. Someone—
Something touched her foot and she kicked out, snapping a wolf head back. Take that, beta big shot. Take this as my rejection of your job offer. Then she heard a roar, and this time it was low and very bearlike.
Hank!
She looked up to see blood burst from his neck and shoulder. Oh damn, damn, damn. One of the wolves had opened up his neck. That was bad. His entire left arm was dangling useless, though he still swung viciously arcs with his right.
Who was left standing? Who was still moving?
She did a quick scan. Her captor was on the floor, his spine possibly broken given the way he was clawing with his upper body. But then she saw him shimmer and change. The man became a wolf with fully functioning legs.
Fuck.
The one who had been thrown into her was still on his feet, too. He was spinning around to get a bead on Hank, though he seemed slower than he’d been before. And the one who had tried to bite her? He was recovering as well, though she could see a pool of blood spilling out of his belly. And maybe intestines, too. Could wolves recover from being disemboweled?
She had to do something so she grabbed the first thing she could. Her desk chair. A metal thing on wheels. She slammed it into the one still on the floor and gleefully watched as it also fouled the footing of the guy who’d just shifted into a wolf.
And then there was another yelp and more blood. She didn’t need to look because the third werewolf landed with his throat slit on top of the chair before flopping down on the gutted wolf.
Which left the last one standing on shaking legs. The one who should have had his spine broken. He looked at his bleeding companions, then back at Hank. Then he dashed for the door. Except the door was shut, and wolves can’t open them. His front paws scrambled at the knob to no avail.
Hank advanced, lumbering steadily forward while blood poured from his neck. Not spurting, she realized. Not arterial, but it was still bad.
“You want out?” she screamed at the wolf. “Back up!”
She pushed onto shaky legs. Hank roared out a bellow, but she wanted the wolves out. Not dead. Just gone.
The bastard dog backed up, his claws digging into the thin carpet while Hank dropped from his upright position to all fours. Cecilia half crawled, half walked to the door and hauled it open. She barely jumped back in time to avoid being clipped by the last wolf as he ran free.
She wanted to scream something vicious after him. Something mean and cutting, but she hadn’t the breath. Only weakness in her legs as she turned back to Hank. She had to stop the bleeding. She had to stitch…
He was shimmering bright gold as he turned back to human. Where before there’d been a blood-covered bear unsteady on his feet as he lumbered toward her. Now there was a naked Hank, his body twitching, his shoulder…neat and perfect.
Healed.
“Thank God!” she gasped as she closed the distance between them. Her arms were around him in a second, and he lifted her up to complete the embrace with one arm. But even as she held him tight, he maneuvered her to be on the far side from the remaining wolves. From the…bodies.
She didn’t have to look to know that the one who’d been disemboweled was probably dead by now. It wouldn’t have taken long. And God, the stench in the room was overwhelming. Blood and bile, not to mention spilled Frappuccinos.
“Hank,” she said against his neck. “Hank.” That was it. She just kept repeating his name while he buried his face in her neck.
Eventually he spoke to her. Or maybe he’d been speaking all along, but she hadn’t heard him. Anyway, she did now.
“…hurt? Cecilia?”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
And she was. He still set her gently away from him as he looked her up and down. She took the time to inspect him as well. He was perfect. Not even mussed, the hair and the blood all gone. She, on the other hand, had bloodstains everywhere, but no damage. No pain. Just really shaky as the adrenaline burned out of her body.
“Pack up,” he said to her softly. “I’m taking you away from here.”
No argument from her.
She accomplished it quickly w
ith his help. She didn’t even want to study the bodies. It was too…She couldn’t even think of it. Violence wasn’t a part of her life. Not like this. And while she kept touching Hank to make sure he was here, to make sure he was safe, too, the rest of her was recoiling from the entire event. What had just happened? The wolves had tried to abduct her? Why?
She stripped out of her clothes and changed into something that wasn’t bloody. A shower would have to wait until the hospital. Her electronics appeared to be fine, so that was all quickly packed up and put away. Hank called someone to report the attack. She didn’t care who so long as she didn’t have to handle it.
Then she was seated in Hank’s car, no longer busy with packing up. In the silence, the questions came back louder until finally she started asking them out loud. And even then, they didn’t come out how she intended.
“This world of yours is terrifying. You know that, right?”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s your world, too. You just didn’t see it before.”
“Why would they attack like that?”
“For the exact reason they told you. You’re a brilliant scientist who knows about shifters. Do you know how rare you are? We need scientists. Doctors, researchers, the whole gamut. We need them to solve shifter problems.”
“Then why not just tell the world about you? Then everybody can—”
He shook his head. “You know why.”
“Magic again.”
“Do you think you’re the only one who’s tried? In thousands of years, lots of people have tried to tell.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Atlantis dropped into the ocean. Pompeii buried under lava.”
She let her head fall back against the seat. “That’s ancient history.”
“Electrical outages, a couple tornadoes, but it doesn’t even have to be that big. The magic will give you a heart attack or food poisoning. And even if you do manage to get the words out, they won’t be able to hear you. And if you print it, they won’t read it.”
She looked at him, her mind whirling. There was something his words sparked. Something important that she couldn’t quite remember.
It didn’t take him long to notice. She was staring at him while she grasped at his words. What had he said?
“Cecilia?”
“Say that again.”
“What?”
“What happens when people try to talk.”
He looked at her oddly but complied. “Heart attack. Food poisoning. Electrical problems—”
“Food poisoning! That’s it. Someone I know had food poisoning. Someone…”
She grabbed her phone and dialed. Dennis answered immediately. “Yeah?”
“Who was it at that last conference we went to? The one in New York. Someone had food poisoning.”
“What?” Dennis had obviously been deep in something else.
“Just answer the question. Who had food poisoning?” She started to remember. “He was a speaker. Presenting some paper about junk DNA turning people into wolves.” Oh my God. How they’d laughed about that. The wolf part hadn’t been in the title. It had been something about DNA adaptation in previously blah, blah, blah. She couldn’t remember. But when the speaker had started talking, he’d definitely been talking about werewolves. She was sure of it now.
“Oh yeah,” Dennis said, his voice getting lighter. “Poor bastard was hallucinating on stage, remember? Kept throwing up and yet still trying to talk. Had a bucket and everything, but—”
“What was his name?”
“What?”
“Dennis, it’s important. What was his name? Where is his lab?”
A pause. “You’re losing it big time.”
She sighed. “Just look it up for me. Please?”
“I am.” There was clicking in the background as he typed. “FYI, no more bodies last night. I think it’s slowing down. We’ve gone eighteen hours without a new case.”
She nodded, waiting impatiently. She could have looked it up on her own phone, but she didn’t remember as much as Dennis did. He’d attended the guy’s lecture and had been laughing about it for weeks afterward. She’d just about given up when Dennis abruptly laughed.
“Got it! The guy’s name is Dr. Oltheten of the Gunnolf Lab in…Well, look at that. It’s right here in Detroit.”
Of course, it was. “Text me the address, will you?”
“Sure. Are you going to tell me why?”
“I think he’s got data that can help us.”
“Werewolf guy? Please.”
“He was sick, Dennis. I’m sure you say all sorts of crazy things when you’re feverish.”
Dennis snorted. “Yeah, but the poor bastard is always going to be known as werewolf guy. His career is finished.”
“Yeah, maybe. Thanks.”
Her phone dinged, telling her the text had arrived. She ended the call with Dennis and showed the address to Hank. “Take me here.”
He frowned as he scanned her face. “You sure you’re up for another confrontation?”
“He’s a scientist and he’s been trying to get the word out. There isn’t going to be any confrontation. He’ll likely kiss my feet in gratitude.”
Hank didn’t respond, but she could see the skepticism in his eyes.
“Look, I’ll never doubt your paranoia again. You were right about the wolves from the first moment. But this guy…he’s a scientist. These are my people and we don’t…” This morning’s violence reared up in her head, and she choked the words and the images down. She wasn’t going to think about that yet. Maybe not ever.
“Shifters aren’t generally violent, Cecilia. Not more than normal people, except maybe at puberty. But this stuff in the water and the quarantine…” He shook his head. “We’re all going a little crazy.”
She believed him. Which made it all the more important for her to talk to this guy and put an end to the madness.
“Dr. Oltheten will have our answers. I’m sure of it.” And that’s what she needed. The security of one scientist talking to another about measurable data. It was the world she knew, and it didn’t include people changing into werewolves and trying to drag her out of her hotel room. Data didn’t spurt blood or get disemboweled right in front of her.
Science was sane, and she desperately needed some sanity right then because she was still shaking. It helped that Hank was right here beside her. His presence was the only thing that was keeping her from running screaming to the nearest airport. She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to stay by his side and really work on their relationship. But she couldn’t do that in the middle of all this Detroit Flu chaos.
“The hospital is safer,” Hank began.
“The answers aren’t there. If they were, I’d have already found them. I need to talk to a scientist who knows about shifters. That’s Dr. Oltheten.” He would help her make sense of this. He would put everything into a data-driven box, and together they’d solve the problem of the Detroit Flu. Then all this madness would end, people would stop trying to abduct her, and she could focus on being with Hank.
That was her plan, and nothing was going to stop her from executing it.
Chapter 21
Let’s talk this through,” Hank said, gripping the steering wheel of his car as he tried to remain calm. He was driving slowly, heading in the general direction of the hospital, but he could just as easily hit the freeway and take her straight to the Griz home base where he could protect her.
“Okay,” she said. “I want to talk to Dr. Oltheten. I’m sure he has data that we need.”
He saw the hard jut of her chin and knew she was going to be stubborn. But even as he looked at her sitting in his car completely safe, his mind kept replaying the sight of her being dragged away.
It amped up his adrenaline and made it hard to focus. But Cecilia was a woman of logic. She wasn’t going to stay hidden away without a good reason, so he fought down his terror for her safety and worked with his brain instead of his brawn.
/>
“The wolves wanted to take you to some supersecret lab of theirs.”
“Yes.”
“And you just learned of a shifter lab in Detroit. That has to be the same place.”
She shook her head. “Dr. Oltheten has been trying to get the word out about shifters. Why would the wolves take me to him? They already know.”
He didn’t have an answer. Just a lot of worry. “Let me take you to the hospital. I’ll get Simon to check it out and then get you and this Dr. Oltheten together in a safe—”
“Aren’t you tired of this?” she interrupted. “Don’t you want this to end now? He’s got information, I’m sure of it.” Her voice was tight and anger radiated out in waves from her body. It hadn’t been an hour since they were attacked and here she was pushing for something he knew wasn’t safe.
It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going on. She was feeling trapped and vulnerable, and for a woman like her, science data was the way out. Right now, she would take any risk to get it.
But that didn’t mean it was smart. Or that part of him wasn’t cut deeply by her words. Because she didn’t just want out of the Detroit Flu problem. She wanted out of the shifter world entirely. She hadn’t said it, but he knew that’s what she was feeling. And if he had any doubts, then the way she curled away from him was answer enough. She even drew away when he reached out to touch her. And rather than talk, her nose was buried in her cell phone as she studied whatever data had come in this morning.
“Cecilia, we need to think about this.”
She looked up and shot him a hard glare. “Either take me to this lab or I’ll jump out and call a cab. But either way I’m going.”
He believed her. And yes, he could tie her up in some hotel room to keep her safe, but that was the surest way to end any hope of a relationship between them.
“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll drive us there, but I’m going to take some precautions, too.”
She shrugged. “Do whatever you need to, but get me there.”
Fair enough. He turned the car toward the freeway and the Griz home base. Sure, he’d take Cecilia to the very suspicious Gunnolf Lab, but he wasn’t doing it alone. And he sure as hell wasn’t going there without backup.
