“Why do only three of us get trackers?”
“Chris already has one,” Hayek said. “All enforcers do. It provides a measure of safety for them out in the field.”
I must have looked surprised because he continued. “Only their provincial supervisor has their tracking code.”
“Who’s that?”
“Jason Sobosky. Based in Winnipeg. He’s in charge of this entire investigation.”
I should have realized that Chris wouldn’t be, considering he might be infected too. It made me uneasy though. Chris gave people the benefit of the doubt, and Matt and Sam were cut from the same cloth. But the thought of being at the mercy of someone like Garrett, frankly, scared the crap out of me.
“Who will have my tracker code?” I asked, eyeing the big needle with trepidation.
“Only Jason for now,” Hayek said. His eyes filled with sympathy. “Liam, we are all hoping this is just a waste of my time.”
“Yeah, I get that. Okay, go for it.”
Hayek numbed the skin, waited a few minutes for it to take, and then plunged the needle into the muscle that runs from my neck to the shoulder. Even with the freezing, it stung like hell.
“At least someone can track me now if I get lost,” I said. “I should take one for Keen.”
Hayek gathered his samples and paused at the door. “I hope to see you soon to remove it .”
“Thanks, doc.” I said, and I meant it. Hayek was good people. He gave me a wan smile and left me to get dressed.
It felt weird to be joining the somber crew in the kitchen after providing samples and getting tagged, but the others were in the same boat. Except for the girl with the storm-gray eyes, which danced at me as she handed me my steak.
“Things went well?” she asked innocently, the impression destroyed by her bobbing eyebrow.
My face returned to its previous flame-red state in an instant, but I managed an echo of her eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Hayek snorted from where he bent over his cooler, arranging the samples with care. He snapped the lid shut and straightened. “I’ll take these to the lab. Our wulfan friend is waiting up for us.” He hesitated, his expression doleful. “I probably don’t need to say this, but I will anyway. Until we know if you’re infected, act as though you are. If this is a mutant virus, we have no idea yet of its reproductive cycle. We have reason to suspect you might be infectious more often than every full moon. I’ve left a box of antiviral spray for treating surfaces in the bathroom after each use. Follow the instructions for washing dishes with it but be careful if you cut yourself.” His eyes slid over Josh and Chris and came to rest on me. “Keep all interpersonal relations in abeyance until we get the test results. And as we’ve already discussed, no shifting.”
Satisfied that we understood, he turned to leave. Josh offered to help him out to the car, hefting the cooler with ease. Watching him, I wondered how strong wulfan really were. Sam had seemed so amazed at what she’d seen me do, but I’d assumed with my strength came my new abilities as a wulfleng. Perhaps I’d been wrong, and they were from the mutant virus.
I looked at my steak, and my stomach rumbled. I couldn’t believe I was still hungry. But I tore into that meat like I hadn’t seen food in a week, and by the looks on faces around me, my ferocity did not go unnoticed.
* * *
Apparently, Garrett had a problem with Sam watching over me.
While Sam and I had visited with Sherman, the others had discussed the best way to monitor the situation. Until the tests deemed Chris clear of the virus, he also required monitoring. With the city enforcers tracking crazed wulfleng, the board couldn’t offer more resources to watch over four possibly infected people. Garrett and Sam were all they’d spare.
Peter agreed to move in with Josh and Chris until the test results came back, but I had a job to perform. I refused to miss more time at work than I already had while incubating the virus. As the board had not yet relegated me to the cage, it was life as usual for now. So that meant that whoever monitored me needed to become a temporary vet assistant. . When Sam volunteered for the job, Garrett scowled.
Chris, Peter, and Josh engaged in cleaning up the kitchen as though embracing any distraction from the issue at hand. I called the dogs and headed outside to close down the barbeque. Sam followed me, and Garrett, still scowling, trailed after her.
We’d no sooner passed beyond the earshot of those in the kitchen than Garrett expostulated, “I should shadow Liam.” His eyes slid from Sam to me, and back.
The man obviously had things on his mind. I abandoned scraping the grill and regarded him intently—did he have something going with Sam? They’d been partners for a while. If he thought I had a thing for her, he wouldn’t be wrong. But if he pursued his goal from that direction, I suspected we were in for a show.
Sam put her hands on her hips and gave him a look that should have offered fair warning, if Garrett were the type to heed such things. “Why should you shadow Liam?” The phrase came out loaded with possibilities, none of them good.
“Liam”— he granted me the courtesy of a nod—“is wulfleng. If the virus affects him like it did Dillon, he’ll be dangerous.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I can’t handle dangerous?”
“Sam, be reasonable.” Garrett appeared to be holding onto his temper by a thread. “I know you can handle dangerous, but think about this—could you have put Dillon down on your own?”
I possessed a fleeting sympathy for the
