Chapter 9

 

I swear, Willow, as soon as she found out I was a lynx shifter she was all over me. She was grabbing me under the damn table!”

Willow laughed. “What did you do?”

“What do you think I did?” Davis leaned against the reception desk. “I told Maryanne’s mother I was flattered but that I didn’t date mother/daughter duos.”

“Are you telling the mother/daughter story again?” Bishop rumbled as he came out of his office. “That happened two years ago, Davis.”

Davis grinned. “Don’t take away my glory, Bishop.”

The door to the office opened and a dark-haired man, he was handsome with bright blue eyes and a broad frame, walked into the office.

Good afternoon, how can I help you?” Willow said as Bishop and Davis eyed him curiously.

I’m Clay Haddon. I have an appointment with Ms. Frost,” he said.

I’ll let Ms. Frost know you’re here. Please have a seat, can I get you a drink?”

“No thank you,” he said as Davis followed Bishop into his office and closed the door.

Willow stuck her head into Kat’s office. “Mr. Haddon is here. Can I send him in?”

Yes, please,” Kat replied.

A few seconds later Clay was sitting in her office. Willow placed a cup of tea in front of Kat and she smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you, Willow.”

Willow nodded and left as Kat said, “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Haddon.”

“You as well, please call me Clay.”

“Call me Kat. You wanted to speak to me about the coyote shifter incident, is that right?”

“Yes,” Clay replied. “Officer Umbert said he shot the shifter in the chest but that he then had to shoot him in the head to effectively put him down. Is that your recollection of the events?”

Kat nodded. “Yes. So your company studies a shifter’s healing abilities?”

“We do,” Clay said. “Stowe Laboratories works with shifters to try and unlock the secrets of their healing abilities.”

“Why?” Kat asked. “What’s the purpose of that?”

Well, there are many reasons. Dr. Stowe wants to know why some shifters heal faster than others – grizzly bears for instance heal, on average, 93% faster than any other shifter. Why is that? What makes their abilities so much stronger then say, a jaguar shifter such as yourself?”

Kat shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really thought about.”

There are other factors to consider as well. We know that a shifter’s healing powers start to fade as they grow older. Is this because of genetics? Or perhaps food or environment is a factor. Could a shifter’s healing powers be enhanced somehow? Is it possible that a sloth’s healing powers could somehow be modified so they heal as quickly as a grizzly?”

Kat cocked her head at him. “It sounds like Dr. Stowe is trying to play God.”

Clay chuckled. “Not at all, Kat. What he’s trying to do is discover the mystery of your healing abilities and help future generation of shifters. Imagine if he could find a way to prevent your healing powers from fading. Heart attacks, strokes, cancer – none of it would affect you. Who knows how long shifters could live if their healing powers remained intact.”

Kat frowned at him. “Still sounds to me like he’s attempting to play God. Is he a shifter?”

Clay nodded. “He’s a black bear shifter.”

“So, in order to “unlock” the secrets of a shifter’s healing powers, he must be experimenting on his own kind.”

“Not experimenting,” Clay said. “Do we have test subjects in the lab? Of course. But they’re all volunteers and are well-compensated for their time.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re interested in the coyote shifter who went mad,” Kat said.

“The coyote shifter survived a direct shot to the chest. Of course, many shifters have survived being shot in the chest but that was with immediate medical attention. At the very least, the bullet needs to be removed before the shifter can start healing. But, according to Office Umbert, the coyote shifter was down less than a minute before he recovered. That’s never happened before and Dr. Stowe wants to know why.”

It’s too late. The shifter is dead,” Kat said. “Any possible healing enhancements died with him. Besides, the coyote shifter looked like he was on death’s door when he came into the coffee shop. There’s no way he had extra strong healing abilities.”

Maybe, maybe not. However, Dr. Stowe feels that any information leading up to the moment he died, could be very useful for our research. Which leads me to you and Officer Umbert. My understanding is there was also a grizzly shifter. Did you know him?”

Kat nodded. “Bishop King. He’s a partner here at the firm.”

A look of satisfaction crossed Clay’s face. “Do you think we could have him join us? It would be helpful to speak to both of you.”

Kat picked up her phone and buzzed Bishop’s office. After a brief explanation, he joined them, shaking Clay’s hand before easing his large bulk into the chair next to him. Kat listened silently as Clay explained to Bishop the purpose of Stowe Laboratories.

So what exactly is it you want to know about that day,” Bishop asked when Clay finished.

“Everything, Mr. King,” Clay said. “Why don’t the two of you start from the beginning.”

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Clay sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his flat abdomen. “So, the coyote shifter was bigger and stronger.”

Kat nodded. “Incredibly strong. He shoved Bishop through the plate glass window after Bishop had shifted.”

“He had to be on some type of steroid,” Bishop said. “It’s the only explanation.”

Steroids don’t affect shifters like that, Bishop,” Kat said. “Look at chipmunk shifters. Those guys are always popping steroids and it doesn’t affect their size when they’re in chipmunk form. Besides, the guy was normal size as a human. It wasn’t until after he shifted that he became so,” she paused, “weird. I mean, you saw the guy’s teeth, remember?”

Bishop nodded. “Yeah, something wasn’t right.”

Kat tapped one long nail on the top of her desk as she stared thoughtfully at Clay. “It had to have been some type of mutation or infection, or maybe a virus.”

Clay kept his face neutral with a powerful effort. Katarina Frost was much closer to the truth then she thought and he felt a ripple of respect for the jaguar shifter. She was smart and intuitive.

Bishop glanced at his watch. “Are we almost done? I have an appointment.”

Yes,” Clay said. “Just one more question – were either of you bitten or scratched by the coyote?”

Kat shook her head. “I wasn’t.”

Clay glanced at Bishop. “The coyote attacked you – were you injured, Mr. King?”

“Nah,” Bishop replied. “I was in my grizzly form by then and it takes a lot to pierce through my fur and skin.”

Clay stood and held out his hand. Bishop rose to his feet with surprising grace and shook his hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. King.”

He turned to Kat and she stood and shook his hand. “Thank you, Kat.”

She nodded and Clay left her office, shutting the door behind him. There was a moment of silence before Bishop said, “That was strange.”

“Yes, it was,” Kat said thoughtfully.

“You believe his explanation for why they’re interested in that coyote shifter?”

Kat shrugged. “Not entirely. I think he spun a very nice story that was made up of half-truths.”

“Yeah,” Bishop grunted. “Now what?”

“I’m going to do a bit of research into Stowe Laboratories,” Kat said as she sat down at her computer. “Hey, how’s Ava feeling?”

Uh, better.” Bishop cracked his knuckles nervously. “Let me know what you find out, okay?”

“You bet, big guy,” Kat said absently as she opened her laptop.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my God,” Sandra moaned as she stared at her swollen, throbbing leg. The wound from the monster in the park was infected. Despite dousing it daily with antiseptic, thick green pus was dripping out of it and, steeling herself, she sat on the side of the tub and poured nearly half the bottle of antiseptic over the wound. It burned like fire and she bit down on the towel to muffle her screams. After a few moments, the pain subsided to a dull ache and she gingerly blotted the wound before taping a clean white bandage over it.

She eased her way out of the tub and hobbled into the kitchen. Her head was starting to ache and she took some Advil before cooking her dinner. She sat alone at the table and picked at the food in front of her. She had made Brad’s favourite dish – brown rice with almonds and sunflower seeds – and as she stared at her plate, tears dripped down her face. God, she missed him. If he was here right now he’d be forcing her to go to the hospital and she would go, despite her nearly paralyzing fear of doctors and hospitals, because he would help her be brave.

She still couldn’t quite believe that he was dead and she’d never see him again. It was only Thursday and Brad had been dead for less than a week but still…when would her mind stop trying to convince her that he would come walking through the apartment door just like he always did? His mother had called her tonight, crying and sobbing and drunk out of her mind, and Sandra had tried to comfort her but failed miserably. She sighed and scraped her dinner into the overflowing garbage can. It was starting to smell, Brad had always taken the garbage out for her, and she grimaced before tying the bag. She glanced out the window and a trickle of fear went through her. Darkness had fallen and even though the dumpster was only ten feet behind the apartment building, she was dismayed to realize that she was afraid to take out the garbage.

She had called Detective Matthews’ cell this morning and he had assured her that although they had not found the creature yet, they had combed the park and surrounding area and he was most definitely not there. She sighed and rubbed her hand over her forehead. She had given them the best description she could and Detective Matthews had listened carefully and didn’t question her description, but even to herself she had sounded crazy. He had said they were dealing with a sick porcupine shifter but she couldn’t – didn’t know how to – articulate just how odd the shifter had looked. It was a porcupine shifter but it wasn’t, and she was terribly afraid that her stuttering, pathetic description of its strength and speed had been woefully inadequate.

She stared at the garbage and then out the window again before taking a deep breath. She was being stupid. She was perfectly safe and it was time to stop hiding out in her apartment the moment the sun went down. She would take out the garbage and nothing bad would happen. She would be fine.

 

* * *

 

Hey, that’s a good song.” The man glared at his companion as he turned off the radio.

“They’ve played it four times in the last six hours,” the second man replied. “I’m sick of this shit.”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before reaching between the seats and grabbing a donut from the box on the back seat. “I don’t know why we’re even keeping tabs on this squirrel shifter at night. The bitch doesn’t leave her apartment once it gets dark.”

The first man shrugged. “Boss says to keep an eye on her – we keep an eye on her.”

“If she’d been bitten, she woulda turned by now,” the second man said sullenly. “She’s a squirrel shifter, they got metabolisms like a fuckin’ racehorse.”

“Horses don’t have fast metabolisms, moron.”

“Fuck you, Kyle.”

“Sorry, I don’t swing that way. Just ask your mother,” Kyle said impudently.

The second man glared at him. “Talk about my mother again and I’ll – “

“What the hell is that?” Kyle leaned forward and squinted through the windshield.

“What? I don’t see nothin’.”

“Open your goddamn eyes, Reggie,” Kyle snapped. “Over there, under the streetlamp.”

Reggie ate the last of his donut before licking his fingers. “Some homeless guy. Who the fuck cares?”

“That isn’t a fucking homeless dude, asshole.”

Kyle opened the door and climbed out, shutting it quietly behind him. Reggie sighed before following him. Kyle was already standing in front of the car and as Reggie joined him, the homeless man turned. The glow of the streetlight above him illuminated his face and Kyle cursed under his breath.

“Holy fuck, it’s the porcupine.”

“Bullshit,” Reggie muttered. “That’s not the fucking porcupine.”

“It is,” Kyle hissed. “He’s got fucking quills for fuck’s sake.”

Reggie squinted. “I don’t see ‘em.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, get some fucking glasses, you twit,” Kyle snapped before hauling out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Who do you think?”

Reggie grabbed his arm. “If you call him and it ain’t that porcupine shifter, he’ll have our heads on poles.”

Kyle ignored him and pushed a button on the screen before holding it up to his ear. The porcupine shifter had dropped to all fours and was sniffing the dirty pavement in front of him, and a shiver of fear went down his spine when the creature lifted his head and sniffed the air.

“Boss?” Kyle dropped his voice to a whisper. “It’s Kyle.”

He listened and shook his head. “No, the squirrel shifter is still acting normal but I – I think we got your porcupine here. Should I call the team and,” he paused and listened again, “yeah, pretty sure. I mean, it looks like him but I – “

There was a soft pop and Clay, wearing a t-shirt and worn jeans appeared in front of him. Reggie staggered back, holding his chest as Kyle slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Where?” Clay said softly.

“Behind you.” Kyle pointed over his shoulder and Clay turned and walked forward a few feet.

“Fuck, I hate it when he does that,” Reggie muttered into his ear and Kyle shook him off before following Clay. He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster.

“Boss, is it him?”

Clay nodded.

“Do I call the team?’

Clay shook his head and held out his hand. “Darts?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said before placing the gun in his hand.

The motion light behind the squirrel shifter’s apartment building clicked on and Kyle’s eyes widened as the squirrel shifter, holding a garbage bag in her hand, opened the back door and stepped out into the light. The porcupine shifter turned toward the light and stared at the woman before sprinting across the street toward her.

“Oh fuck,” Kyle said as Clay disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Sandra took a deep breath and pushed the back door open slightly. The motion light clicked on and she squinted at the sudden light before opening the door fully and stepping outside. She took a step toward the dumpster, her heart thudding heavily, and then froze as a familiar scent – one of rot and death – assaulted her nostrils. Her nose twitched and she turned toward the street.

The creature, quills shooting out in all directions, was racing across the street toward her and she screamed in terror and threw the bag of garbage at it before bolting into her apartment building. She slammed the door shut, the creature made a roar of rage and the door shuddered when his body hit it, and she screamed again before bolting up the stairs.

The creature roared and slammed its upper body against the steel door as quills bounced off of it. There was a low whistle behind him and it whirled around, saliva dripping from its fangs, and snarled at the dark-haired man.

It leaped for him and felt a burning pain in his chest before the man simply disappeared. The creature roared again, staring in dumb surprise at the empty spot of pavement as another needle-sharp pain drilled into his back. He turned and took a staggering step forward before falling to his knees. His body was going weak, darkness was creeping across his vision, and he made a quiet whimper before falling forward on his face.

“Boss?” Kyle, followed by a loudly-panting Reggie, joined Clay behind the apartment building.

“He’s down,” Clay said. He handed Kyle his gun as a car approached.

“Fuck,” Kyle said. “We gotta get him out of here, we gotta – “

He blinked when Clay gripped the creature’s wrist in one hand and the two of them vanished.

“Did I mention I fucking hate it when he does that?” Reggie said morosely.

C’mon,” Kyle glanced around nervously as the car drove past them, “we need to get back to the car before someone sees us.”

 

* * *

 

“Willow, we have to start locking the cats out of the bedroom at night,” Mal said as he unlocked the office door.

It was Friday morning and, not surprisingly, they were the first ones to arrive. Willow followed him into the office and flipped on the lights as Mal took her jacket and hung it in the closet.

“I feel so bad. They love sleeping on the bed, Mal,” Willow said as she headed to the kitchenette.

Mal leaned against the counter as she started the coffee machine. He reached out and took her slender wrist, pushing up her shirt sleeve and studying the four bright red scratches that went from her elbow to her wrist.

“It’s fine,” Willow said airily. “Dolly Parton didn’t mean to scratch me.”

Mal laughed. “She did and you know it.”

“I didn’t realize she was lying on your chest. It’s my fault for trying to cuddle you,” Willow protested.

“Listen, you know I love Johnny and Dolly but you’re my mate, Willow. When you’re hurt, it’s physically painful for me.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “You’re bullshitting me, Mal.”

He bent his head and pressed a path of gentle kisses against the scratches. “I’m not.”

“So what, is it like a stomach ache or something?” Willow asked curiously.

Mal laughed and pulled her into his arms before kissing her. “We’re locking the cats out of the bedroom at night, Willow.”

“They’ll scratch at the door,” she said.

“Probably.” He bent and tasted her throat with his tongue, grinning when she moaned quietly.

“They’ll destroy the curtains in the living room in protest of their exile,” she said as Mal squeezed her small ass.

“We’ll buy new ones,” he murmured before nipping at her earlobe.

“It would be nice to sex you up without having to worry if Dolly Parton’s going to attack me in a fit of jealousy.” Willow’s voice was breathless. “Hey, think Kat and Bishop will be late?”

“Why?” Mal murmured into her ear.

“I was just thinking maybe we should be totally inappropriate and have a quickie in your office.”

He nuzzled her throat. “I like that idea, Willow.”

“Good,” she rubbed her slender body against his. “Let’s – “

The bell over the door jingled as it opened and a woman, she was thin with short dark hair, stepped into the office. She was limping slightly and her face was pale with dark shadows under her eyes.

“Hello,” Willow said as she stepped away from Mal. “How can we help you?”

The woman froze at the sound of Willow’s voice and Willow gave Mal a curious look as the woman swallowed compulsively. “I – I’m here to see about protection.” Her voice was barely audible.

The door opened and Kat, followed by Bishop balancing a tray of coffees in one large hand, walked into the office. The woman screamed in surprise and darted forward, tripping over her own feet and landing on the floor with a heavy thud. She winced and grabbed at her leg as Willow hurried over and knelt beside her.

“Goodness, are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” the woman whispered before beginning to cry.

“Oh, honey, don’t cry,” Willow said before patting her narrow shoulder.

“I need help,” the woman sobbed. “Please, can you help me?”

“Of course we can,” Willow said as Mal knelt next to them. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Sandra Mickelson.”

 

* * *

 

“Ms. Mickelson?” Kat said softly as she opened the boardroom door.

“Call me Sandra,” the squirrel shifter sniffed. Mal handed her a second tissue as Kat brought Davis into the boardroom.

“Sandra, this is Davis. He’s going to take the first shift with you okay?”

Sandra nodded as Davis held out his hand. She sniffed nervously in his direction and her nose made a little twitch of fear. “You – you’re a cat shifter.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am,” Davis said. “But you’re perfectly safe with me, I promise.”

She made a watery sigh. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I just – I’m very on edge right now.”

“That’s fine, ma’am,” Davis said in a soothing voice. “I understand completely.”

“As we talked about,” Mal said as Sandra rubbed at her temples, “we’re assigning two people to watch you in twelve hour shifts. Davis will introduce you to Fenton when they do their shift change. Okay?”

She nodded and Mal patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Ms. Mickelson, we’re very good at what we do and Davis and Fenton are two of our best. The porcupine shifter won’t get anywhere near you.”

“Thank you,” Sandra whispered.

She stood and gave Davis a nervous look. “So, um, do I just give you the address of my apartment?”

“How about I walk you to your car,” Davis said before holding out his arm. “I’ll follow you back to your place and do a quick check of your apartment.”

“Will – will you stay with me in the apartment?” She asked timidly.

“I can stay in your apartment or in my car outside of your apartment,” Davis said. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I – I think in my apartment,” Sandra said.

Davis smiled at her. “That sounds good. Shall we go?”

When they were gone, Mal stared at Bishop and Kat. “Is it just me or does this monster porcupine shifter sound a lot like that coyote shifter that went crazy in the coffee shop?”

Kat nodded as Bishop scratched out a few more notes in Sandra’s file before closing it. The door opened and Willow stuck her head in. “Want me to take the file and get it entered into the system?”

“Thanks, Will.” Bishop handed the file to her and she squeezed Mal’s arm before leaving.

Mal tapped one finger against the table. “There was a porcupine shifter bitten at the coffee shop, right?”

“Yes,” Bishop said. “I never got his name or anything, but he was definitely bitten.”

“Did this Clay guy talk to you about the porcupine shifter?” Mal asked.

Kat and Bishop had filled Mal in on the details of their meeting with Clay and shared their suspicions that something was off with Stowe Laboratories.

“Nope,” Bishop said. “But he did want to know if either of us were bitten or scratched.”

“Interesting,” Mal said. “So we have a coyote shifter with super strength and size go crazy and bite a porcupine shifter. Then the same mutation, for lack of a better word, happens to the porcupine shifter.”

“It has to be a virus of some sort,” Kat said thoughtfully. “Transmitted by bites or scratches.”

“What did you find out about Stowe Laboratories?” Bishop asked.

“Nothing,” Kat said.

“Nothing?” Mal raised his eyebrow at her. “You always find something, Kat.”

“Not this time,” Kat said. “Everything that this Clay guy told us checks out. They are a research lab that studies the healing abilities of shifters. All shifters are volunteers and I even called a couple of them to see exactly what they volunteered for. Mostly they gave blood samples and allowed the lab to injure them slightly and monitor how long it took them to heal. Neither had anything bad to say about the lab or the doctors that worked there. The head of the lab is Dr. Wyatt Stowe, a black bear shifter. He started the lab with his own money. His parents both came from wealthy families and died in a car accident when he was nineteen. He inherited thirty million and moved to New York. Ten years later he used the money to start Stowe Laboratories. Two years ago he opened a second lab just outside our city and, from what I can tell, he works out of that one. I did some digging into their financial information and everything is squeaky clean. No hidden monsters in the basement.”

“Interesting,” Mal said again.

“All I know is that Clay’s explanation for why they’re interested in this is pretty damn weak,” Bishop said.

“I’m wondering why the porcupine shifter is stalking Sandra,” Kat said. “According to her she’s never even spoken to a porcupine shifter before so it’s doubtful that they knew each other before he went crazy.”

“Maybe it was just a coincidence,” Mal said thoughtfully. “She was originally attacked close to her home, maybe the porcupine shifter was still in the area and it was just bad luck.”

“Maybe,” Kat replied.

“We need to tell Davis and Fenton that if they do see this porcupine shifter to not let it close enough to bite or scratch,” Bishop said suddenly.

“We don’t know for sure if it’s even related,” Kat said. “It could be another insane porcupine on a murderous rampage due to a completely different reason.”

“Do you really think so?” Mal said.

Kat sighed. “No. They’re related. It’s too weird not to be.”

She glanced at her watch. “I’m going to do a bit more digging into Stowe Labs, see what I can find.”

“When does Ronin start with Mavina Sorenson?” Mal suddenly asked.

“Already has,” Bishop said.

“And?” Mal asked with a grin.

Bishop rumbled laughter. “Ronin texted me late last night. He was at some club with Mavina and he wanted to know if we provided a clothing allowance. I guess Mavina sliced his shirt off of him with those damn nails of hers.”

They turned at Kat’s loud hiss and studied her red face with interest. “Why the fuck is she taking off his clothes?”

Bishop glanced at Mal before shrugging. “You know vamps, Kat, they’re flirts.”

"More like they’ll fuck anything that moves,” she hissed again.

“Ronin will behave,” Mal said. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worried,” Kat snapped before standing. “Are you guys still good with me taking Tuesday and Wednesday off? I may have to leave a little early on Monday, depending on,” she paused, “you know.”

“Yes, it’s no problem,” Mal replied.

She nodded to them and left and Bishop grinned at Mal. “You ever think you’d see Kat so worked up over a bird?”

Mal shook his head. “No. It’s weird to see her like this.”

He started to stand and Bishop cleared his throat. “Hey, Mal? I have something to tell you.”

Mal sat back down and Bishop glanced at the closed door before lowering his voice. “I wanted you to be one of the first people to know – Ava’s pregnant.”

“Holy shit,” Mal said. He crossed the room and hauled Bishop to his feet before hugging him. “Bishop, that’s great! Congratulations, buddy!”

Bishop gave him a pleased grin. “Thanks, Mal. It wasn’t exactly planned but we’re both really happy.”

“I’m assuming Willow knows,” Mal said. “She’s been acting weird about Ava for the last week.”

Bishop nodded. “She does. Ava confided in her that she thought she might be pregnant and then after she took the home pregnancy test and we found out for sure, she called Willow.”

“Huh, Willow’s getting much better at keeping secrets,” Mal said with a laugh.

“She knew I wanted to be the one to tell you. We wanted to wait until after Ava went to the doctor just in case the home test was a false positive or something. She’s only a couple of months so if you could keep it quiet for now, we’d appreciate it. Ava’s having coffee with Willow and Ginger tomorrow and she’s going to tell Ginger but we’re going to wait until she’s twelve weeks to tell everyone else.”

“I won’t say a word,” Mal said. “Are you going to tell Leslie?”

“We haven’t decided yet. I haven’t spoken to her since the day Ava was attacked by the dragon. She’s called a few times but I didn’t answer. Still, she is my mom and it is her grandbaby, you know?”

“Does Ava want to tell her?”

“She’s letting me decide, said she would support me either way but if I do tell her and Leslie freaks out and starts talking shit about me or the baby, Ava will…”

He trailed off and Mal grinned at him. “Tear her apart?”

“Yeah,” Bishop said. “You know how she gets when she’s angry.”

Mal snickered. “My grandfather still talks about how she faced Leslie down in the living room.”

He clapped Bishop on the back. “You’re going to be a great dad, Bishop.”

“I hope so,” Bishop said.

“You will be,” Mal said. “Don’t worry about it.”