As his footsteps retreated down the hall, another yawn broke free. I looked at Keen. She rolled her blue eye at me and curled up into a ball.
“Some help you are,” I said.
This exercise made me uneasy. I’d been riding an emotional roller coaster ever since I met Dillon on the path that night. I believed it was all about Chloe, but now I wasn’t so sure. Is it the virus? Remembering Dillon’s rage issues, the thought scared the crap out of me.
Not all emotions are evil. Sounded like a blurb for a movie, but I decided to approach this sunny-side up. I flipped through my phone to find a good image of Keen. The first one that popped up was of Chloe and Keen in the sunlight on the trail.
Dillon’s face, suffused with hate, flashed through my brain. I stared at the picture with a stab of alarm. Can Peter keep her safe? Will Peter be safe? What if Dillon loses it?
The rage blindsided me and flooded my senses with a rush of pure adrenaline. Through a red haze, Keen jumped up and spun around to stare at me, and I realized I was growling. My hands curled into fists as I attempted to regain control. I hunched over and put my head on my arms and just breathed. Keen sniffed me cautiously as though she wasn’t sure I was still me—something I wasn’t too sure of either.
“Are you okay?”
I jumped to my feet, spinning to meet Josh’s startled gaze. At least, I think it was Josh. His long hair and smooth skin rippled with colors I’d never seen before and couldn’t begin to classify.
Josh regarded me with alarm. “Your eyes have changed. Does Chris know you can already do that?”
My eyes—changed? The shock of it snapped something within me, panic dissipating the anger, and Josh became—just Josh, with his rich-brown skin and black hair.
My body shook and I took a deep breath. “I didn’t know I could do that.”
Josh’s gaze dropped to my phone, sitting on the table. Chloe and Keen smiled up at us.
“Ahh.” A combination of affirmation and exhalation, the sound indicated an understanding of sorts. I guessed that Josh knew something about what happened at Peter’s. “Looks as though that picture could be used on both sides of your board.”
“Yeah.” Still fighting to slow my breathing, I cued it up and hit print, and the machine obediently printed two copies. I pinned them up.
Josh observed the process. “The ones we love motivate and guide us,” he said. After glancing at Keen, he added, “I can see why Chris’s willing to take a chance on you. You have a connection to other living things, which bodes well for your future as a wulfleng.”
Willing to take a chance on me? What does that mean? Chris had obviously been out of the wulfleng business. “Would he have helped me, if Peter hadn’t asked?”
Josh’s eyes darkened as his brows drew down. “I don’t know,” he admitted, hesitating before continuing. “He hasn’t taken on a project in a while. The last one didn’t go well, and he blamed himself. He’s sent at least two on to an enforcer in Regina.”
Josh saw my expression and hastened to explain. “Alec wasn’t honest with Chris. He made it through the change, but in the end, Chris had to put him down. But it wasn’t Chris’s fault.”
“What happened?”
He hesitated again. “Ask Chris. He might tell you if he thinks it will help with your training. He doesn’t want to talk to me about it, but it eats at him.”
My pulse raced—did I want to know why Alec had to die? What if that happens to me?
“I’ll leave you to your project,” Josh said. His expression indicated that he regretted telling me about Alec, but a part of me wished to decipher the shadows in Chris’s eyes. It would help me understand the man.
I needed to do that if he was going to get me through this.
9
By the time Chris showed up two hours later, I had quite the display. And I’d almost lost it a handful of times.
In terms of evoking responses, the board clearly succeeded. Keen was now lying by the far wall, watching me. Her nose kept twitching—as if my scent changed by the minute.
I hadn’t intended to delve so deep, but Josh’s comment about honesty had struck home. If Chris were willing to go out on a limb for me, I owed him that much. I’d mostly used photos, and I’d drawn things when I didn’t have a picture of them. Dillon in wulf form featured in a prominent manner—I’d found a large sheet of paper and sketched him straight on, dark eyes glowering from lowered brows. After watching Chris transform, the sketch had fine detail that made it almost growl.
I had also included a sketch of Chloe as a human, her eyes unfocused, head turned to stare over her shoulder. And one of Peter, sitting on his deck with a beer in his hand. I’d filled the good side with so many drawings and photos I had to move the partition over, leaving only a third for the bad things. Of course, Keen appeared everywhere, but so did images of my coworkers and favorite clients. I even added Humphrey for pure hilarity, and Fang, the donkey, with his silly long ears. It had taken me a few moments to decide where he’d go.
The bad side featured the extra-large sketch of Dillon. I’d considered stopping there, but I remembered what Josh had told me about Alec. I didn’t know for sure what had happened with Chris’s last wulfleng project. But if I was truthful, I would have to admit I possessed more darkness within than just Dillon.
Once I’d filled the board with images, I perused the bookshelf. It was bursting with science fiction and fantasy books, many old favorites, but a lot of new stuff too. I found Josh’s on the upper shelf—he’d written over thirty of them, and I
