by Sarah Noffke
Chapter Two
“The first wolf attack was reported in Fairbanks, Alaska. Thirteen wolves were found dead in an open field with their blood withdrawn.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“So what’s the goal here?” Kaleb said, watching the silver ballpoint pen as Adelaide had ordered.
“I’m trying to make you pass out,” she said, spinning the pen over her thumb and catching it in her fingers. It was a gesture her father had taught her. A seemingly simple movement, but employing the right focus, it could cause hypnosis. However, Adelaide didn’t know how to practice her mind control using this method. She had only been successful when pairing it with words, not movements.
“Oh, is that all?” Kaleb said with an undeterred laugh. He’d merely been at the Institute for a couple of days, but already his easy attitude and casual nature made him seem like a Lucidite.
“Would you shut your bloody mouth and concentrate?” Adelaide said, knowing that was actually not how this attempt at hypnosis should work. Ren’s book of secrets said that a successful hypnotic gesture should catch the attention of a distracted person and hold it. This was only Adelaide’s first attempt, though, and she’d work on perfecting it later.
“So what happens after I pass out? You write on my face and take pictures?” Kaleb said, not having heeded Adelaide’s request to be quiet.
“Actually, before you pass out, you’ll be subject to any of my requests. With a simple demand I can make you do a whole list of horrid things. I’ll also have access to your memories, thoughts, and pretty much whatever other rubbish resides in your tiny brain,” she said, spinning the pen around and around, knowing the more fluid the motion, the more compelling it was to the observer.
“Are all British people as insulting as you?” Kaleb said, blinking his eyes from the act of watching the pen.
“No, I take insults to an exemplary level. But British people aren’t as fake as Americans,” she said, hearing the interruption at her back. Someone had just entered the strategic department conference space. Two somebodies, by the sound of their footsteps.
Adelaide turned to find her two least favorite people. “Oh good, the meatheads are here,” she said as Zephyr and Rox entered the space.
“I don’t think you mean that. You’re not actually happy to see us,” Rox said, walking into the room like a trucker, wearing her cowboy boots and a short jean skirt.
“The façade is broken,” Adelaide said, scooping up her book and standing. She turned to Kaleb. “We’ll try practicing this again later.”
“Practicing what?” Rox said, hitching up her hip and placing her hand on it.
“Stomaching you,” Adelaide said and then paused. The look on Zephyr’s face said something. It said there was something wrong. “What is it, Zeppy? What’s wrong? Did you lose your bone?”
Zephyr shook his head. “It’s Connor,” he said, gnawing on the inside of his cheek, worry covering his features.
“Did he kill himself?” Adelaide said, her voice hopeful. “One less werewolf would make my job easier. Actually, why don’t you all just off yourself and make this place more peaceful without the threat of your mutation.”
“Hey, Little Red,” Kaleb said with a laugh, “you’re so good with solutions. That’s why you’re a secret agent, huh?”
“Shut up, Runt, and eat some arsenic,” Adelaide said, turning her attention back to Zephyr. “Actually, Alpha, you can’t off yourself until you’ve found the other werewolves, but quickly after that I think you should.”
“Connor has gone missing,” Zephyr said, his face now impassive, no amusement present.
“We’ve searched the entire Institute and the head of transport said he left on the submarine yesterday,” Rox said, smacking her gum. It was astonishing to Adelaide that she could appear so much like a prostitute and an FBI agent at the same time. That took skill.
Adelaide pressed both her index fingers into the bridge of her nose, taking a deep inhale. “That little piece of shit,” she said under her breath.
“I’d counseled him after the attack on you, and Connor was obviously still dealing with guilt,” Zephyr said, his voice automatically going into “captain” mode. “He admitted that he couldn’t control the wolf, even when not changed.”
“Wait, the wolf has effects on you when you’re not changed?” Adelaide said, taking a seat back at the conference table, next to Kaleb. Zephyr remained standing, but Rox took this as an opportunity to hoist herself up and sit perched on the surface of the table, legs crossed and cowboy boot bouncing.
“We hear the wolf in our head, its desires, its instincts. These things are always present, about like the speed, agility, and heightened senses it gives us,” Zephyr said.
“That’s bizarre. I thought the desire for meat was only present when you all were changed,” Rox said. “But that does explain so much.” Her eyes turned mischievous as she stared off, a delighted smile on her face.
Ignoring the obvious attempt at flirting which was going to get Rox killed and Adelaide in loads of trouble, the redhead said to Zephyr, “Are you sure this is accurate for all the werewolves? Maybe it’s just you.”
“Silver Streak is right,” Kaleb said. “Usually I just ignore the wolf in my head, but I always hear him. And it has impulses, ones that are hard to control.”
“Hey, Name-Caller, do you want to elaborate on these impulses?” Adelaide said, suddenly tensing. Maybe these guys weren’t safe even when not changed. Maybe they were putting the Institute in more danger than she realized.
Kaleb shrugged. “That’s my thing. I like to make up names for people. You’ll get used to it and find it endearing.”
“I doubt that,” Adelaide said, waving him forward. “Impulses. Elaborate.”
Now Kaleb didn’t look as confident. He bowed his head, shame writing itself on his face. “It’s nothing. Just heightened emotions, about like the senses.”
“Since the crappy American education system obviously failed you, I’m going to define exactly what elaborate means. I need you to be extremely specific about these impulses,” Adelaide said, and her own confidence surprised her. It had grown so much since the case started. And now she almost felt in charge.
“He means primal urges. Sex, violence, hunger,” Zephyr said, causing Kaleb to look up with wide eyes. “All of those urges are stronger for us now. They are controllable, but it’s about like we’re teenage boys again.”
“But in the body of a man,” Rox said, clicking her tongue three times with a satisfied expression.
“And you can control it,” Adelaide said, as a statement to Zephyr. Then she turned to Kaleb. “Can you?”
“Yes. I mean mostly. I mean, sometimes I can’t,” Kaleb said.
“The guy at the convenience store. The one you threw across the place. Was that a result of this impulse?” Rox said.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to hurt him. I felt awful afterwards, but something just came over me,” Kaleb said.
The group of four grew silent for a moment, Adelaide’s eyes scanning the surface of the table in front of her. “Okay,” she finally said, drawing out the word. “I think we’re all right for now. I want you both having regular psychiatric evaluation. I’m guessing unless you’re provoked then these impulses won’t be triggered. You freaked at the store because you were in trouble. Inside the Institute the Lucidites are too nice for you all to go off on them.”
“I think that’s a fair assessment,” Zephyr said, nodding his head in approval.
“Now as for Connor…” Adelaide said, her voice trailing off as her fists clenched in her lap. She couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. How could he have run off after they had just rescued him? He was a huge threat out in society and he was likely to get picked up by Olento Research. She knew he’d do something rebellious and get himself caught. Her notes from his file told her as much.
“I have to go out and find him,” Zephyr said.
“Yes, b
ut where are you going to look, is the question,” Adelaide said, still off in thought.
“That I don’t know,” he said, his voice also distant and eyes staring off.
“Portland is his hometown,” Rox offered.
“We need more than that,” Adelaide said. “What we need—”
Her words stopped abruptly. Rox, Zephyr, and Adelaide both shot their heads to the corner of the room where one of the conference room chairs had suddenly appeared. It seemed to pop up out of nowhere.
“Was that just there?” Rox said, pointing at the chair.
“It was not,” Kaleb said, a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“Where did it come from?” Zephyr said.
“Beats me,” Kaleb said, covering his mouth.
Adelaide turned to Kaleb. “Did you do that?”
He didn’t answer, but just chuckled. Then he disappeared and reappeared at the other end of the table.
“For fuck sake! Did you just teleport?” Adelaide said, bolting to a standing position.
“Nope,” he said, now overcome with laughter. The moving of the chair and him changing positions appeared like telekinesis or teleportation. But that didn’t seem right. He’d done more than move something with his mind, he’d moved himself. But teleporting couldn’t be Kaleb’s skill. It was too complex.
“All right, Dog Bone. Pony up, what’s going on?” Adelaide said.
Kaleb only shook his head with a wide grin. Adelaide was about to reprimand him when Trent shot into the conference room, his focus on the redhead. “Hey! She’s back in action! We’ve got eyes on the future again,” he said, his voice vibrating with excitement.
A huge and rare smile sprung to Adelaide’s mouth. “Great! And just in time,” she said, making for the exit.
“Who are you talking about? What does that all mean?” Rox said, her head to the side and confusion creasing her forehead.
“It means that I now know how we’re going to find Connor and the rest of the pack. We’ve got our best news reporter back,” Adelaide said, following Trent out of the room at once.
Chapter Three
“CRISPR (clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats) genome editing was employed to splice wolf DNA into the subjects. This created a coevolution in both the host and the viral genome, making both stronger.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
The paint was peeling off the walls in the break room of the Lizard Lounge. It had probably been peeling off the pale green walls for a while. And Rio Hernandez had no idea why he was even slouching in the corner of the room. It wasn’t like he needed a break. All he did was stand around, and his job as a bouncer for the shady club was easy enough. He’d never had such an easy job. Usually he just growled at a patron being rejected entry and they ran for the streets. And fights were never a problem for him to break up. He’d always been strong, with wide biceps and a barrel chest, but whatever they did to him in that lab made him incredibly powerful. He’d punched through concrete walls to escape that prison. And since the breakout from the lab he’d tested that strength. For an hour he practiced his superpower by throwing cars in a junkyard. The homeless men who watched and cheered him on had found the whole show funny. Good thing the bourbon later made them forget what they saw.
Rio’s time on the police force had educated him to the troublesome types. He could spot them from ten yards away, standing in the line for the club. And although the job as the bouncer only reminded him of why he’d quit the force, it was one of the few jobs he could find where they’d pay him under the table. He knew better than to use his old bank accounts or return to his old house, which had been inherited by his sister.
Still, he had returned to his hometown of San Diego, keeping his head down when a police officer strolled by him on the streets. Although he didn’t think most would recognize him since he’d grown out his black curly hair, he didn’t want to risk it. Leaving the force had been hard enough, and then he had just disappeared, it seemed. In actuality he’d been abducted one evening while walking home from a baseball game he’d umpired. And although he didn’t remember much from his time at the lab, he did remember breaking through the wall and escaping. It was the most exhilarating moment of his life. Even better than when he wrestled down that thief in Mission Bay.
It was that thief that started the fast end of his career on the force. What had started as a prideful moment of victory quickly turned into a hairball of problems. The thief’s defense attorney later lodged a case against Rio, saying he used unnecessary force to subdue the defendant. Rather than fight the charges, Rio simply turned in his badge and gun. He’d been looking for a reason to quit the force, feeling the unending doom of constantly stopping bad guys. It made him overly cynical having to spend his time inside the heads of criminals. And again, as a bouncer for the club, he found himself too often in the company of worthless hoodlums. But the money paid for the room he rented and the job also gave him access to gamblers who ponied up their easy-earned cash to arm wrestle Rio. He never lost a round, which actually only increased the lineup. Everyone wanted a chance to try and beat the man with iron arms.
Rio took in a long breath, letting his head fall forward. He wasn’t tired, but he wished he was as he stared down at the dirty floor of the break room. Actually, he wished he could sleep, but more and more the dreams plagued him. They were so real, like a direct product of his current thoughts. That didn’t feel natural. Nothing about Rio felt natural anymore, especially the werewolf that broke out of him every week. He didn’t know how to control the beast, and he was already certain he’d been spotted sprinting through the streets as a werewolf. The only thing that he was grateful for was that he hadn’t hurt anyone yet. That wouldn’t last long though. He found that if he kept a supply of red meat on hand during the change, it satisfied the wolf’s hunger, but soon the werewolf would want warm flesh, with the blood still beating. Rio knew that, because he could feel the wolf inside him, longing for more. Always hungry for more.
Chapter Four
“Through the process of drugs intended to strengthen the parietal lobe, neural feedback, meditation, and a technique called ‘dream synthesizing,’ Middlings can be converted into Dream Travelers. This research was part of what was stolen from the Lucidites by Olento Research.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Grant said, coming to a halt in front of Mika’s desk and offering a sharp salute.
The CEO of Olento Research merely raised the corner of his lip, as he pretended to scan the file in front of him. He’d been over the updated Canis Lupus Project file a dozen times. Drake had pulled through and delivered a method that should in theory be successful. However, the scientist had been correct in his assumption and it appeared from the research that the new werewolf conversion would have lethal ramifications for the subject. Disfigurement was one of them. Heart failure was another.
After several seconds, Mika lowered the file and blinked at Grant. He was in his usual black uniform, which matched his black flattop. “Grant, although you’ve continued to put in effort to locate the werewolves, that can’t excuse the numerous failures on your record.”
Grant’s mouth tightened, bringing lines to his pale lips. “I know, sir. I fully accept responsibility and if you’d just give me another chance.”
“I do plan on giving you one more chance,” Mika said, drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk.
“You do?” Grant’s eyes widened with relief. “Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t let you down. No one wants to see those werewolves returned to Olento Research more than me.”
“I don’t believe you invested a sizable amount of funds into their creation, did you?” Mika said, his tone condescending.
“Well, no sir. Of course you have the largest interests in having the werewolves returned. I only meant—”
“I have no desire to have you clarify what you meant,” Mika said, cutting
off his director of security.
“Of course, sir,” Grant said, standing taller. “Where would you like me to focus my efforts on locating the werewolves? Are there new sightings or reports on one of the subjects?”
Grant knew that Mika was not one to empower through autonomy. That’s why he always asked Mika for specific instructions, knowing he preferred to oversee all aspects of all projects at both Olento and Parantaa Research. This meant that Mika worked nonstop, but his skill as a Dream Traveler allowed him to utilize nighttime hours.
“Grant, I am giving you another chance to redeem yourself with this case, but we first need to be honest. Do you firmly believe that you, a simple Middling man, can capture a dozen werewolves?” Mika said.
“Well, sir, I do have my team and we’re learning more of the pack’s behavior and tendencies—”
With a shake of his head, Mika cut Grant off. “When not changed, these men are faster than any human, have amplified senses, and the instincts of a ferocious animal. And when in werewolf form, all of these traits are increased and they also have deadly fangs and claws. Do you think you really stand a chance at capturing the werewolves?” Mika said.
“I hear what you’re saying, but sir, I have to believe that I can do this. Otherwise—”
“Otherwise you’re zero use to Olento Research and might as well find employment somewhere else,” Mika said, again interrupting his employee.
“And you know that is the last thing I want,” Grant said.
“I do know that. What you lack in intelligence and competence you do make up for with loyalty,” Mika said, pushing out from his desk and casually crossing his legs in front of him.
