Oh hell—that was another creature he’d eaten the last time the moon shone bright. Apparently he was the kind of werewolf that lost its mind every full moon and ate anything that ran, flew, or hopped.
“You have to get past this, Laddin. You’re a predator now. And predators—”
“Eat bunnies?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She shook her head. “It’s hard going through life hating yourself for what you are.”
Been there, done that. He used to hate himself for his deformed hand—a birth defect that becoming magical hadn’t fixed. But he’d made peace with it, so he had to believe he’d find a way to survive without eating living meat.
“Look, it’s not just the rabbits. Nobody asked me if I wanted to be made into a werewolf.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was a major problem with Wulf, Inc. They couldn’t tell people they had the werewolf gene before they activated it. The Paranormal Accords said as much. And so Wulf activated the gene and then hoped the person would sign up with the organization afterward. It was ass-backward, and everyone knew it.
“Even if we could have asked you—and you know we’re not allowed—you wouldn’t have believed a word of it.”
That was probably true, but it didn’t matter. “Do you know why I worked in Hollywood?”
She frowned. “I’ll bite. Why?”
“Because I liked pretending to be part of the action without actually being in it. I’m a couch superhero. I’ll cheer on Captain America, but I sure as hell don’t want to actually fight the Nazis. I don’t schlep through the jungle in search of Dr. Doom, and I sure as hell don’t want to go face-to-face with any demon. I’m sorry, Captain M, but you activated the wrong guy.”
She leaned forward. “This doesn’t make sense. Two weeks ago you were jonesing to go out into the field. What happened?”
He’d eaten a bunny and realized it tasted delicious. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d been the one responsible for packing up the belongings of Nero’s dead teammates. That had been a major eye-opener. He’d seen their entire lives in their things. They’d been cut off from their families because they couldn’t talk about the paranormal, they lived in the daily practice of violence, and at the end of it all, so few people remembered them. Not the ones they’d saved, who didn’t know what had happened, and not their families, who hadn’t spoken to them for years. Only the organization mourned—for a few weeks—before it restructured, activated new recruits, and created new combat packs with the survivors.
“I don’t want to be a killer, even of bunnies.”
“We’re protecting the world. You don’t have to be on the front lines.”
He nodded. “I love the work you’re doing.” Wulf, Inc. took out genuine baddies, and he had no problem with that. But it was still “eviscerate this” and “disembowel that” everywhere he looked, which made his wolf side want to roll around in the blood too. But he was a man first, and he didn’t want to split open anyone’s gut. Not when he could buy plastic-wrapped chicken breasts at the grocery store. “I just don’t want to be part of it.”
Captain M stared at him, her nose twitching as she thought. “There’s something more.”
“Yes.” And now he came to the real sticking point. “I’m not going to disappear from my family’s lives. I won’t.” Because that’s what people at Wulf, Inc. had to do. The paranormal had its place, and it wasn’t with the vanilla normals.
He saw her absorb his statement, her expression going grim, but there was understanding in her eyes. Not every werewolf worked in Wulf, Inc. Many had regular lives, assuming they could keep their natures under complete control.
“So the only reason you’re still here is because you’re trying to figure out how to control the moon madness.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway with a nod. Not every werewolf went psycho with the full moon, but he’d drawn the short straw and would have to work extra hard to control himself. Good thing he was used to overcoming obstacles.
“The next full moon isn’t for another few weeks. Do you mind helping us out until then? It won’t involve you killing anything.”
“What have you got?” he asked, investing his voice with a perkiness he didn’t feel.
“Josh’s brother ate a fairy fruit—”
“What? Why?” He’d been reading up on magic, and nothing was more unpredictable and guaranteed to bite you in the ass than fairy magic.
Captain M shrugged. “Because he’s an idiot? Because he wanted to play in the weird pool too?”
Laddin shook his head. “No. I mean, what was he promised?”
“Well, that’s what I’d like you to figure out. The rest of the team is going up to run support for the bigwigs. They’re still trying to find the demon that is poisoning the lake and Wisconsin in general. The problem—other than the obvious—is that the paranormal energy is so thick around the lake that it’s attracting every paranormal wackadoodle in the world. They can’t find the demon if they’re constantly fighting ghouls and goblins gone wild.”
“I’m to run support?” he asked.
“You can coordinate with me, but mostly I need you to handle Bruce. That’s Josh’s brother.” She held up her hand before he could object. “I know you’re a puppy yourself, but there isn’t anyone else. The others will be around to help if needed, but they can’t take out a nest of angry pixies if they’re babysitting a fairy werewolf.”
He nodded, though the idea of taking out a fairy nest made him sad. He knew that the little fae were usually a menace, but they were also just having fun. There had to be a
