by Allison Moon
“Okay,” Renee said, finally. “All in favor of killing the Morloc.” She raised her arm high, nearly touching the living room ceiling. Each of the Pack’s hands went up.
“Boys?” Renee asked.
“We get a vote?” Stefan asked.
“Two-thirds of one,” Sharmalee joked.
“Shush, Sharmalee,” Renee said.
“We’re asking for your help,” Lexie said.
Otter scoffed and the boys looked to one another. Taylor made a face and Stefan matched it.
“Do we have guns?” Stefan asked. Taylor and Otter shared an uneasy look.
Lexie replied, “We’re working on it.”
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.
“We’re working on that, too,” Renee replied. “We’re arming up, planning traps. And we’re deciding on a strategy.”
Stefan grabbed his backpack and stood, placing his empty beer bottle on the coffee table. “Email me details when you have them. I want to know about weapons and attack plans before I kill anyone else.”
“You’re just going to sit by and watch the full-bloods attack?” Corwin shouted.
“Did I say that?” Stefan shouted back. “I’m not laying my life on the line when you don’t even have weapons or a plan. You get those, and you call me. Meanwhile, I have a midterm to study for. Come on.”
The boys grumbled some half-hearted apologies and left.
Lexie sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead, stopping when she realized it made her look like her father.
“Fuck ‘em,” Mitch said. “We didn’t have their help this morning, and we don’t have it now. Nothing’s changed.”
Renee nodded. “Exactly. Let’s focus on what we can do.”
“Like what?” Corwin asked.
Renee stared down Sage, who had sat impassively in the corner the entire time, the same eerie smile on his face. “We track down some weapons, and we learn to master our changes.”
36
Lexie waited in the hallway outside the psych lab, Dr. Fern’s book in her backpack, and another book splayed on her lap. She was failing Comp Lit, Spanish 101, and, ironically, barely making it through Professor Ritke’s language class. New agenda item, Lexie thought, take easier classes next year. If she made it to next year. Another agenda item, Lexie thought. If I make it to next year, start keeping an agenda.
She struck her highlighter across a passage that sounded important, though she was only half-reading. Each tiny sound tickled her ears as she waited for Duane to arrive to set up the lab for his next subject.
Lexie reread the same passage for thirty minutes before she finally heard the soft soles of Duane’s sneakers against the marble steps.
She sprang up and met him at the landing. He gasped and brought his hand to his face.
“Jesus!” he shouted.
“Sorry,” Lexie said, surprised by her own energy, whether it was nervous or impatient or otherwise.
Duane rushed up the stairs, and Lexie bounced alongside him. “You could’ve just responded to one of my texts,” he said.
“I needed to see that thing again,” Lexie replied.
“Are you serious?” Duane scoffed. “After what happened last time?”
Duane hurried up a second flight of stairs, clutching his books to his chest and avoiding eye contact. Lexie fought to stay apace.
“It was … a part of me.” Each word eked from her mouth like a drop from a shut spigot. This wasn’t going as she planned. “It was … ”
“A Rare,” Duane said, stopping at the landing and facing her.
“No!” Lexie protested, but she could hear the lie just as clearly as Duane could.
“I was nose-to-nose with one, Lex,” Duane said. “I remember it all.”
Lexie bit her lips and nodded, her bounces ceasing.
“Is that … how they all are?” he asked.
Lexie shook her head. “Some of them are all wolves, all the time. The bad ones are.”
“But you’re … ”
“A good one,” Lexie said, willing it to be true for more than her wolf. “And new.”
“What about the one that killed—?”
“I don’t know,” Lexie interrupted. “I don’t know what it was.” The sentence caught in her throat but she pushed through it, a better lie than the last.
“I’ve been going through a lot.” She rushed to fill the silence before he could examine her lie. “I know you have too, and I’m really sorry about scaring you and running off and passing out and, like, booting all over your shoes. It’s just that there’s a lot going on at home, and in my head, and none of it makes sense … ” Through her babbling, she pleaded for Duane to find something, anything, to ask about other than his attack. She’d fill his brain with the volumes she knew about absolutely everything other than this.
He didn’t ask anything else, but watched like she was descending into true insanity, aghast as she unloaded all the flotsam in her brain. He stood, quiet, and then pushed through the heavy door into the hallway. Lexie chased after him, wanting to scream.
“ That electricity thing,” Lexie said, catching up. “How did it work?”
“The EEG?” Duane asked, shaking himself into presence. “Um, it’s just low amplification of your ion movement. It doesn’t really do anything, just measures your brain’s voltage.”
“It has to do something,” Lexie said.
“No, it’s like holding a stethoscope up to your chest and blaming that for your heartbeat. It doesn’t do anything but listen.”
“You said it amplifies.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t put the amplifications back in your skull. It measures, amplifies, and reports. There is no way this would make that … thing … happen.”
“What about the other device?”
“The Octopus?” Duane asked.
“The what?” Lexie said.
“It’s just what they call the solenoids.” Duane shrugged, exasperated. He fumbled with his keys outside the lab door. “It’s a low-level magnetic pulse that’s supposed to stimulate your temporal lobe and generate a different sensation.”
“What kind of different sensation?”
“A professor called it the God Helmet because he thought it inspired the feeling of another presence. Some people felt it was God, others thought aliens or ghosts.”
“You hooked me up expecting me to see God, and you didn’t tell me?”
“It was a blind study, Lex, the point is not to tell you. And no, I didn’t expect you to see anything. I think it’s bullshit; the guy’s results have never been perfectly replicated. My starting thesis was that it’s all placebo.” Duane unlocked his lab and Lexie followed him inside.
“Well, I want one.”
“One what?”
“The machine. The squid.”
“Octopus, and no.” He pushed through the door into the lab.
“Why not?”
“It’s not mine to give! Besides, I saw what happened to you. I’m not going to just let you steal school equipment so you can ralph on more shoes.”
Lexie gave him a look.
“ And turn into a fricking wolf,” Duane said, lowering his voice into a furtive plea.
“Just ask your prof!” Lexie said. “It’s not like you aren’t a fucking golden boy around here. Everyone loves you. Tell them you’re doing an independent project, and they’ll probably write you a check for funding.”
“Lexie, I’m assuming you haven’t noticed, but I’m barely holding on here. I never sleep anymore, my grades are slipping, and I can’t focus on anything. I’m no one’s golden boy. I’m just damaged.” He turned away from her and busied himself with some files.
“I need that machine, Duane.”
“Why?!“
Lexie hesitated. He was another potential body to put on the front line. But no, Duane didn’t need more trauma in his life. “I can’t tell you.”
“Compelling argument.”
&
nbsp; “Dammit, Duane, this is a life-or-death situation! I thought you were my friend.”
Duane rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know what that means.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because every time we hang out, it’s about what you need from me. You want me to investigate Rory, to help you with your homework, to listen to you bitch about your roommates.”
“I saved your life!”
“Yeah well, thanks for that. Now I get a life where everything triggers me into near catatonia, and I get to relive the evisceration of my friends every night. You really got me out of a bind.”
“You’re the one who chased me down, Duane. You’re the one who’s always wanting to hang out, inviting me out, wanting to spend time. Don’t blame me for coming to you when I need a friend, and don’t blame me for not giving you more when that’s clearly what you want.”
“What? Who told you that?” Duane said, dropping the files and turning to face her.
“No one. It’s obvious. You follow me around like a lost puppy.”
“Because you’re my only real friend.”
“You have plenty of friends.”
“None like you. They all talk shit about this place all the time. And if they’re not hating on my hometown, they’re only talking about trying to get laid, or I don’t know, sports teams I don’t really care about. I just like spending time with you. You make me feel like not such a weirdo.”
“You are a weirdo, Duane, because you like interesting things. And normal people don’t like interesting things. They like simple things. And you’re not simple.”
“And neither are you.”
“Fuck no.”
Duane and Lexie stood in the dark laboratory, locked in a standoff of ego and hurt feelings.
“I do like you,” Duane said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a creeper.”
“You haven’t been a creeper, Duane. You’re like the opposite of a creeper. You’re one of the good ones. You’re the kindest, gentlest guy I know.” Lexie reached for his hand, and although she felt like they were two magnets pointed the wrong way, she fought the resistance and grasped his hand in hers. “It’s just … that’s not enough for me to like you back.” She flinched at the harsh truth, but Duane didn’t. He just smiled his shy smile and nodded. Lexie spoke again, “I’m sorry my complicated life is getting all over you.”
Duane chuckled. “I was going to say the same thing.” He squeezed her hand. “Can you please tell me what’s going on? I feel so alone in this.”
“I will, Duane. I promise. Just not now.” Lexie pulled her hand away. “I will tell you one thing: that Rare isn’t going to hurt you again. And if any other Rare tries to, I’ll kill it. I promise.”
“What?”
“It’s what I’m here for Duane. You’re my people. I won’t let you get hurt again.”
In light of their fight and reconciliation, Lexie felt bad for waiting until Duane took a bathroom break to root through his lab and steal the Octopus and a handful of the EEG electrodes.
She’d return them later. He’d understand. Duane was a nice guy.
37
From dawn until lunch the girls tried meditating, beating on each other, and making faces like comic book superheroes. No amount of straining, visualization, or face-slapping would do the trick. Not one of them had so much as a flicker of a change.
Corwin took most of the girls to the gym to hit some punching bags, while Renee and Lexie stayed at the Den to work more with Sage and the stolen Octopus.
He tried explaining the shift in every language he knew how, showing them over and over how he moved from man to buffalo and buffalo to man. Lexie squinted, looked at him in her knife’s reflection, tried to tap her lust, her sadness, her fear. For the first time since his arrival, Lexie began to question the value of this boy, the truth of him, and his potential.
Renee popped fresh batteries into the Octopus and brought it to them. “Let’s see if this’ll give you the boost you need.”
Lexie took it, and Sage looked askance at the device.
“If it works, it works,” Lexie said, too close to giving up to be skeptical. She reached to yank her shirt over her head, but paused. “Could you … ?”
Sage cocked his head to the side, waiting for further elucidation. Lexie raised an eyebrow. “Sage?” He shook his head, not understanding. “I need you to turn around, please.”
“Turn around?”
Lexie sighed and looked to the sky. “Sage, I’m going to take off my shirt now so I don’t ruin it with vomit and/or werewolf. Could you please face away from me so I don’t have to expose my naked body to you?”
“Oh,” Sage said. “Okay.” He turned around.
Lexie sighed and shook her head at the motley parade of circus freaks that were now her allies.
Ten minutes later, Lexie shivered topless, kneeling on the chilly grass, a towel draped over her shoulders. Renee slathered Vaseline on Lexie’s head. “This doesn’t seem … scientific,” Renee said with an arched brow.
“I’m just trying to replicate the experiment as much as I can remember it, Ms. BioChem major.”
“If Duane used Vaseline on you, I’m more inclined to call campus security.”
“Whatever. I’ve never done this before, so let’s just go with it.” Lexie handed Renee the handful of electrodes she had lifted from the lab.
Renee stared at their end: the branches descended into a trunk of braided wires and ended in a frayed root system of exposed copper and steel wires.
“Are you serious?” Renee drawled.
“What?” Lexie asked.
“This is supposed to attach to something. Like an input for a computer.”
Lexie jutted her chin and considered. “I dunno, I just grabbed it.”
Renee exhaled heavily and stuck the Octopus’ solenoids to Lexie’s scalp, the Vaseline oozing beneath the surface so that they threatened to slip off. “Just don’t move and they’ll stay,” Renee said.
Once Lexie was feeling good and humiliated, Renee got the scotch tape and placed the other electrodes against Lexie’s bare arm.
“No,” Lexie said. “Back of my neck.”
Renee obliged and then Lexie said, “Wait. No.”
Lexie pulled the electrodes from the nape of her neck and placed two on her temples. She stuck the last two on each side of her sternum.
“Yay for flat-chests,” Lexie said sardonically, tossing her hair over her shoulders and re-sticking the gooey solenoids to her scalp.
“This feels right,” Lexie said, smoothing the tape over her skin. She covered herself back up with the towel and shifted her shoulders and head into a position akin to that of the original experiment. “Let’s do it.”
Renee looked to Sage and asked, “You wanna help?”
Sage, who had been sitting cross-legged, facing away the entire time, turned and nodded. He walked toward them, taking the controls from Renee and sitting in front of Lexie.
He smiled at her, his amber eyes offering her the courage she needed. Lexie held each tail of the towel against her skin. “Okay,” she said. “Here we go.”
Kneeling in the grass with the EEG cords dangling along her spine and wires against her chest, Lexie felt like a scrawny cyborg. She placed her hands across the electrodes taped to her skin and took a deep breath as Sage turned on the juice.
At first she felt a tingle, like a feather tracing across her skin. Then the tingle buried itself, a parasite burrowing through her flesh, drawing a jagged line between the two electrodes.
The EEG wires dangled uselessly.
Sage raised his eyebrows in a question and Lexie nodded, taking a deep breath and sinking into the sensation.
He turned the dial, and the worm wriggled faster, a unidirectional race through her chest. Her skin warmed with a thousand tiny sizzles cauterizing her flesh.
“More,” Lexie grunted through clenched teeth. She gripped h
er chest, her hands warming the electrodes, willing them to work.
Sage cranked it to the max. The pulse ran, a knife against her flesh, endlessly retracing the path of trauma. Warmth and wetness cut at her ribcage, and her pulse raced to match the electricity. In that harmonized rhythm, a third rhythm appeared. A cycle of heavy thumps, impatient and ready. The pacing of an animal.
Lexie remembered this feeling, the interface of pain and pleasure, girl and wolf that danced around each other at the club with Randy. She remembered Randy’s instructions to feel into the space, find where they met, where they resisted, and where they clung together.
Lexie tried to push into that feeling, release it, expand it, let go, unwind, unspool, break apart. She strained—pushing, pulling, twisting, and unclenching, but none of it worked. Her ribcage was as strong as steel, keeping inside and outside, wolf and human girl, clearly delineated and bound to different realms of reality. Her wolf paced and snapped at her impertinent bones. She forced a retch, gripping handfuls of grass and pulling her belly forward, hoping to force the wolf to spring forth along with the limited contents of her stomach. Her face grew red and hot.
“Turn it off,” Renee said. Sage obliged.
Lexie panted. “I can feel it. It’s right there, but I can’t let go. I need to turn off my brain. It’s in the way.”
“Turn off your brain?” Sage said.
“Corwin’s got weed,” Renee said.
“Marijuana doesn’t turn off your brain,” Sage said. “It turns it on. Opens you up.”
The three considered while Lexie cycled her breaths.
“An orgasm?” Renee ventured.
The girls exchanged a glance, and without a word, Renee walked into the house.
Moments later, an extension cord ran through the open kitchen window and onto the lawn. Renee’s vibrator, an ugly, be-knobbed wand, sat in the grass, ready to work its magic.
Lexie had ripped the useless EEG nodes from her scalp. She kept one flat palm against her chest, needing to connect with the crude device that wanted to bring out the beast in her.
