Blood ran down Eve’s skin and dripped onto the grass. I watched, horrified and fascinated, as she sucked in deep, ragged breaths and folded to her knees. Her spine bowed with a sound like river ice snapping during a thaw and then her body tore itself to pieces. When it was over, a silver wolf climbed to its feet.
Three, then five, then six of the wolves lost control and shifted. One had white fur, and the reminder of Ben sent my heart hammering against my breast bone and stole the air from my lungs.
My shoulder blades hit the wall of the cage and I flinched.
One wolf took a swipe at another and the result was like a match thrown onto a pile of gas-soaked rags.
Teeth gnashed and blood flowed as other wolves got pulled into the fray. It was hard to believe the creatures in front of me had been human just moments before. They were like true animals—animals who had more in common with Ben than with Kyle or Serena.
Kyle stayed in front of me. His presence should have been reassuring, but his sleeves were rolled up and I could see the muscles twitch and writhe under his skin. The white wolf padded toward us and Kyle let out a low, dangerous growl—the kind of growl a human throat shouldn’t be capable of.
The wolf continued its advance, and Kyle kicked out so hard that I heard a sickening crack as his foot connected with the wolf’s skull.
Only one other person in the cage, a boy who looked younger than everyone else, hadn’t shifted. “I’m. Not. Going. To. Change . . . ,” he panted, curling his hands into fists as the bones tried to snap.
Suddenly, he clamped his hands to his head and fell to the ground. In front of me, Kyle did the same. All of the wolves—inside the cage and out—collapsed. The ones who had retained human shape covered their ears and the ones who had lost control shifted back.
It was just like what had happened when they took Serena.
I covered my own ears and crouched next to Kyle. I tried to look helpless and in pain—not much of a stretch given how scared I was—as I watched Langley from beneath my lashes. She held a small black device in her hand that was about the size and shape of a remote car starter. After a minute, she slipped it into her pocket and the wolves began to come to.
Langley’s voice swelled over the class. “Guards have Tasers and guns. Counselors have HFDs: high- frequency devices. Fall out of line and a counselor will use an HFD. Get too close to the fence or a restricted zone and an HFD will automatically be triggered.”
There was a hint of excitement in her voice, and I had the sickening suspicion that she had enjoyed hurting us, that we were little more than animals to her.
Kyle shakily lifted himself to a sitting position as around us, people grabbed the shredded remains of clothing, desperately trying to cover their nudity.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah. I think so.” His voice was raw as he stood and reached down to help me up. “You?”
I hesitated, then nodded. I couldn’t tell him that seeing that many wolves shift had scared me almost as badly as the LSRB and the Trackers said I should be.
Trying not to think about the way Kyle’s muscles had moved under his skin, I reached up and took his hand.
I glanced skyward as I gained my feet. As I did, I noticed something I had missed when entering the cage: High on each corner were four cameras, all pointing inward.
Langley’s voice pulled my gaze away. “First group out, second group in.”
The other group had their turn in the cage. Not one of them was able to hold back from shifting. Afterward, the wolves grabbed fresh uniforms from a row of plastic bins. Once everyone was decent, we sat on the grass and listened for two hours as Langley told disturbing—and graphic—tales of wolves who had lost control and killed.
By the time the buzzer signaled lunch, every person in the class was emotionally battered and physically drained.
Every person except Langley, of course. There seemed to be a spring in the counselor’s step as she led us back through the camp. I could just imagine the meetings she must have had with her high school guidance counselor as she explored career options that would let her both torture
I watched Kyle out of the corner of my eye as he walked beside me. He had barely said a word since stepping out of the cage, and his eyes, his expression, even his posture, were all hard and closed down.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, skimming his hand with my fingers as the side of the dining hall came into sight.
“I should be asking you that.” His brow furrowed as we passed a small stand of trees. “C’mon.” He shot Langley a quick glance before twining his fingers around mine and stepping out of line.
“You have forty minutes and then a fifteen-minute warning bell will . . .” Langley’s voice faded as I followed Kyle to the circle of trees. He dropped my hand as soon as we were under the branches.
The spot wasn’t completely private—someone walking past would be able to see us if they were close enough and paying attention—but from what I knew of the camp’s layout, most people would probably be approaching the dining hall from the other side of the building.
An ornately carved stone bench—a holdover from the days when this place had been a hospital—stood in the middle of the trees. I sat on the edge and traced an epitaph with my fingertip.
I expected Kyle to sit next to me, but he leaned against a tree and crossed his arms.
The six feet between us felt like six thousand.
“What’s wrong?” I realized the absurdity of the statement and shook my head. “I mean, other than the fact that we’re in a rehabilitation camp and Serena is missing and my hair looks like it was cut by a blind man using a rusty hacksaw blade.”
The scowl on Kyle’s face was so deep it was in danger of becoming permanent. “That last bit was a joke,” I said, somewhat unnecessarily.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. I had the distinct feeling he was holding himself back from saying a dozen things—none of which I would want to hear. Finally, voice tight, he said, “Do you have any idea what could have happened in that cage? Did you listen to the stories Langley told us? Forget getting scratched—one of them could have torn your throat out or crushed your skull. They don’t know you can’t heal.”
“I know.” I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But I’m okay. Nothing happened.”
“If Langley had waited any longer to set off that HFD, it would have.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, because I could neither deny nor admit how scared I had been. I didn’t want Kyle to know that a small part of me had been afraid of him, too, that it still frightened me when I saw muscles twist and tear beneath his skin.
I slipped a finger under my wrist cuff and touched the edge of Amy’s bracelet. “What happened?” I didn’t want to ask, but somehow, I couldn’t stop myself. “Why did they turn on each other?”
“Blood plus exhaustion plus a confined space? Even regs would have had a hard time not taking swipes at one another.” He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand over his jaw. His eyes darkened, and I knew he was thinking about how close he had come to losing control with the others.
“Why didn’t you shift?” I asked softly.
He swallowed and gazed out at the camp. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. “You,” he admitted finally. “I was scared of what would happen if you were the only one who didn’t shift. And I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Kyle . . .” I stood and closed the space between us, then slipped my hand into his. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t return my grip and he didn’t meet my eyes. For a moment, it was like he was somewhere else, locked someplace inside his head where I couldn’t follow. “I’ve seen you shift before.”
“Five times,” he said. “I didn’t want to make it six.” He finally looked at me. With his free hand, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from my face, letting his fingers linger on my cheek for a moment. “I wish I could be human for you.”
