I thought of my partial changes. Of Dillon and of the madness, yet recognition, in his eyes. “No, I don’t think I would follow the same path. Dillon didn’t suffer memory loss that I know of. Only insanity.”
“Well, so far, you seem pretty sane,” he said.
I nodded, a small part of me relaxing at his assessment.
“Thanks for the food.” He stood up. “I’m going to wash my hands. Can you watch him for me? I could close the gate, but . . .” He trailed off, turned, and disappeared into the bathroom.
I moved to look into the cage. Hayek had inserted an IV into the silver wulf’s foreleg. I stared at it as though it were a symbol of hope, and maybe it was. Fight, my friend. If Hayek was right, the wulfan healing ability had tackled some of history’s most vicious attempts to wipe humans off the face of the Earth. And won. Could it cure us of this virus, too?
Lost in thought, it startled me when a small hand folded into mine. I’d been so preoccupied that I hadn’t sensed Sam come into the barn. The warmth of her skin penetrated straight through to my heart, reminding me that I had much to fight for.
She seemed to sense my resolve, and her grip tightened. “How is he?”
I shrugged. “Drugged. Alive.” We stood and watched him breathe until Garrett returned. He noticed our joined hands, but turned his gaze to the food, sinking his teeth into a thigh.
“Let’s go home,” Sam said.
Garrett, chewing, gave us a small wave as we left. Chris came out of the house as we approached, bringing Keen with him. His eyes flicked over our hands, and he frowned as he walked us to the SUV.
“How’s work going?” he asked.
“I tell ya,” groaned Sam, “it’s a steep learning curve.”
The torment in her voice startled a laugh out of me. “Our tech has been cramming Sam full of info,” I explained to a confused Chris. “I keep having to rescue her.” I let go of Sam’s hand as we walked to opposite sides of the vehicle.
Chris continued to frown. “You guys . . . be careful, all right?”
I met his eyes, making it clear I knew what he meant. “Always. Let me know . . .” I trailed off, couldn’t finish.
“We’ll look after him.” He gave a brisk nod. “See you tomorrow.”
I got in, started the truck, and turned it around on autopilot, my inner eye focused on Peter as I’d last seen him.
“We’ll get through this,” Sam said.
I recognized the difference between that comment and an assertion that Peter would be fine, but I wasn’t the only one needing reassurance.
“If the wulf can handle the plague, this should be child’s play.” I forced a smile.
I glanced at her, and her eyes shone silver through the darkness.
“We’ll be fine,” I added.
Sam’s teeth flashed white. “Yes,” she growled. “We will.”
* * *
Thanks for reading
NIGHTSHIFTER.
Just in case you were wondering, there is more to come. Follow me on my Amazon page.
And please consider:
- spreading the word
- writing a review
- joining my newsletter
The Nightshifter Series
Get NIGHTSHATTER (Book 2) on April 30!
Acknowledgments
IT IS TRUE THAT NO book is published without an army of support, and NIGHTSHIFTER is no exception. My friend/publisher/editor/consultant Susan Lisoway stayed entrenched for a much longer haul than anticipated. The loyalty of the entire Hayek clan remained impressive and I couldn’t have done it without Pat, Stewart, Gillian, and Austin. Support came in many forms, including my editor Paula Chiarcos, who helped me develop my characters to their fullest. I will be forever grateful to my friends, alpha readers, and beta critics who provided invaluable assistance with the finishing touches of the stories and encouragement that I was onto something that people would enjoy. My copy editor and proofreader, Barbara Holliday, polished my writing to a brilliant shine. Last, but certainly not least, my husband, who has kept life in motion while I’ve been planted in front of my computer.
Thanks to all of you from the depths of my heart!
About the Author
Author and artist, L.E. Horn, is a full-time speculative fiction writer.
Her interests led to a degree in Animal Science and a lifelong fascination with our unconscious animal nature—our inner “Wild Child.” She particularly loves to explore the qualities we believe distinguish us from the creatures whose planet we share. Her discoveries, combined with her vivid imagination, spill over into everything she writes and lend depth and insight to her interspecies relationships.
L.E. Horn shares a country home with her husband and many interesting animals that, as she puts it, “Inspire me by pointing out what should be obvious on a minute-by-minute basis. The challenge keeps me happy and humble.”