“So you read the one by Lecouteaux, on shapeshifting?”
“It’s a classic. I’ve practically memorized it.”
“Use it.” With those cryptic words, he bowed his head and fell silent.
I’d had enough of silence. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a werewolf? Why didn’t you let me in when you knew I was studying it?”
“Would you have believed me if I had?”
“I don’t know.” The lab seemed so far away from this cave, this despair. So did the Manor. I wondered if Iain was having any luck, if he’d missed me yet. Even if he did alert his friends, what proof did we have? Werewolves and kidnapped children? You can’t build a legal case on a fairytale, no matter how gruesome.
The air changed, and I became aware of a hum, a vibration through the cave floor and walls. Spots floated at the edge of my vision, and I felt as though my lungs were being squeezed. I gasped for air but couldn’t fill them and wheezed. I doubled over and toppled from my knees to the floor in the fetal position as pain shot from my heels through my hamstrings, my lower back, my shoulders and my neck—like giant hands were wringing me out and shaping me into something I wasn’t. My clothes, which had been comfortable, felt tight in all the wrong places, and I strained against the fabric, panting and moaning.
“Use it!” my grandfather yelled. “Use the book. And open your mouth.”
I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out as I remembered what I had found in the study, books about how rather than physically changing into werewolves, people would fall into a trance and allow their spiritual aspect to roam free. Some called it a doppelganger, others an astral projection. I felt something bitter on my tongue: aconite. My shuddering stopped, and I shrank in from my body, like it was a shell. I pulled away from my skin and my bones until I was hidden inside.
“What did you do to her?” Lonna’s voice, laden with tears, seemed so very far away. “Jo—”
“Don’t say her name. Don’t touch her. She’s in a trance. If you call her or touch her, she may not be able to get back into her body.”
My lungs breathed deeply and at an even pace. I was inside my chest, curled up and ready to be expelled. With a breath, I emerged into the cave and stretched my unfamiliar, awkward body. The disorientation only lasted a moment. Then I felt as though I had been waiting my whole life for the transformation into a creature of mist and spirit with four legs, a long tail, and brown eyes.
“She’s a wolf,” breathed one of the boys. I looked at him and at the others and could see the lupine aspects in each of them.
“Go,” my grandfather said. “We shall guard your body until you return.”
For a moment, panic welled up in my heart as it occurred to me I might not know how to get back, how to wake myself up. And what if someone did say my name or touch me? It might break the tenuous connection I still had with my physical form.
“You don’t have time for concern. Just go.”
I knew Iain would need proof for the FDA, and the only way to get it would be for me to bring it to him. And hope he didn’t ask any questions.
Walking through walls proved to be no problem. I went through them as though they were mist, and I willed myself to be invisible as I entered the cave proper. Halogen lights were propped up, and it felt like the movie set of an underground laboratory rather than the real thing. Two men in white coats worked at a long metal table. One of them measured a silvery liquid into vials with a dropper while the other one peered through a microscope.
“Do you think it’s happened to her yet?” the first one asked. The light flattened the reddish-gold of his hair and goatee, and I imagined the flame it would be in sunlight.
“No. We’d’ve heard her scream. Just keep working. They need this prototype in Memphis by tomorrow afternoon.” This one looked like some sort of modern medical monk with his receding black hair and long white coat. He blinked beady black eyes.
“Another all-nighter.” The first one sighed. “You’d think they’d understand between the experiments and the babysitting we have to do, especially with them bringing in new people lately. One of us is going to have to feed the kid at some point.”
“We’ll send the lawyer for food. It’s about all they’re good for, anyway.”
I saw Peter huddled in the corner with a small blond child, a boy who slept in his arms. The child had the beginnings of his father’s straight, narrow nose. Before I realized it, I was right beside them, peering into the toddler’s face. He opened large brown eyes, and I could see my reflection in them even though I still willed myself to be invisible. Then I realized he could see me, he had the gift. Maybe it was like what mine had been, and he understood the wolves’ silent communication. I imagined he had heard one of the boys as a wolf and crept out of the house to see the other child, not realizing the trap. He didn’t cry, only smiled sleepily, murmured, “Doggie,” and dozed off again.
“Hey, lawyer. Bowman.”
Peter jerked awake, and I could see the black eye. He’d been roughed up pretty good. I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction.
“What do you have in your house for food?”
“You’re letting me go?” His good eye narrowed. “For what?”
“We’re not letting you take the kid, dumbass. You bring food, and we’ll think about it.”
“Right.”
“Perhaps you could have your wifey whip something up for us. She’s French, isn’t she?”
“You’d be disappointed. She’s a horrible cook.”
“Ah, well, those European women make it up in other ways, I bet.”
The ribald joking continued, and I willed for Peter to do something, anything, to distract them so I could grab one of the vials of “prototype”. They didn’t say what it was, but I could only guess it was a vehicle—complete with viral vector—for the bird flu vaccine. Finally, I’d had enough and gave the kid’s knee a little nip. Not enough to break the skin, but it definitely got his attention.
His cry reverberated off the stone walls, and I jumped away, the noise harsh in my newly hypersensitive ears.
“What the hell?”
“Shut that kid up!” The tall one with the hook nose and beady eyes hauled Peter to his feet and ushered him outside the cave. The other one followed to help control the kid, and I saw my chance. I grabbed one of the sealed vials with my mouth and dashed out of the cave behind them.
A low growl stopped me in my tracks, and I saw Peter, the two scientists, and Lance cornered by two wolves, one yellow wolf and one smaller black one. They crouched on the bank, their eyes aglow. The breeze brought me their scents, and amidst the musky odor of wolf, I recognized Ron’s familiar scent, but the other one must have been Kyra. Now I knew who had attacked me and Peter. But why had they attacked? I didn’t have time to think about it. I leapt over the stream and followed the other bank. They were so distracted by Lance’s cries and the commotion made by the three men they paid no attention to me. I wondered if a spirit-wolf such as myself would even have a scent.
The moon, waning but still bright this far away from the city, dappled the path, and I had to consciously focus my attention on the task at hand. The night forest proved to be a gauntlet of intriguing rustlings, wisps of scent begging to be followed, and glowing eyes that blinked shut when I looked directly at them. My stomach growled, but I dared not hunt, at least not until I delivered the vial to Iain.
The familiar voice reverberated in my head, and I stopped, confused. Where did it come from?
He stepped on to the path, a lean wolf with glossy black fur. His tongue lolled to the side as he sat and looked me over. I sat on my haunches and watched him, unsure of what to do next.
