Cleverly was sobbing wetly in the corridor outside the surgical theater. The entire clinic was so quiet and still around us that it made me feel on stage, flayed open. Which, ironically, I supposed was about to happen.
“Your sheriff’s been calling,” Garrow commented matter-of-factly. He dropped me onto a surgical gurney, leaning heavily across my body to hold me down as he began looping restraints around me. “I don’t know what kind of phone you have, but it’s got amazing reception. Usually, I get shit for bars down this far.”
Cleverly sobbed again, loud and theatrical. Garrow rolled his eyes, giving me a grin. “Seriously, she’s the most dramatic woman I’ve ever met. But she’s a good little pack member, very eager to please.”
I really didn’t want to think about the implications of that.
“I have to be honest with you, Landry. Your aunt keeps saying she hoped you’d be a good boy and fuck off, stop digging around with your cop buddy, but I’m glad you didn’t. See, it’s been decades since we started with you, and now that we’ve damn near perfected Lycaon, it’s going to be a real treat to compare your changes to those of someone on the final version.” He tapped one finger against the middle of my forehead. “Most of them happen here, you know? It’s hormones and chemicals, and well, you are a doctor, so I bet this is all pretty simplistic stuff, right? You get it.” He moved down to my legs and started lashing me down there. “Now, before we begin, I do have some questions for you.”
“Is this where you ask me for my last words?” I closed my eyes, holding on tight to the shreds of hope I had left. What was Ethan doing right now? Was he okay? Would he be the one to find me? I know he’ll come looking out here when he figures I’m nowhere in town. When he searches the woods, and there’s no trace of me… I thought of Waltrip, of Justin, and wondered if they were dead and shoved into some supply closet at that apartment complex, or if they were tucked away somewhere here, maybe for poking and prodding later.
My aunt’s sobs cut at me, severing my false calm. “Fuck’s sake, what are you crying about? This is all your fault, Cleverly! You sold me to them, you kept this going, and you… what? Decided, hey, this looks like fun—let me try it for myself? And now you’re one of them.” I turned my head the little bit the restraints allowed and spat, “I hope it’s fucking excruciating every time you shift.”
She wailed. Garrow smirked. Any sympathy I had for my aunt, any worries and affection and love, were gone. That Cleverly, the one I thought existed, was dead now. The Cleverly I’d thought of as a mother figure hadn’t actually existed. I was a commodity to her, and she was willing to let me be used for her own gain.
“Now. If we’re done posturing. When was the last time you took any of the Lycaon? Oh, sorry, you’d know it as your allergy medications.”
“I haven’t been on them in years. I stopped when I realized they were slowing my reaction times at work when I lived in Houston.” It hadn’t been by much, but there were several instances during autopsies where I’d made a minor mistake in my incisions or nearly dropped materials because I was so foggy. “Shouldn’t you know that? I’m guessing one of your doctors was my GP here.”
He nodded, scowling. “They’ve been filled regularly, like clockwork, since they were prescribed.” He paused, darting a glance at Cleverly. “Ah. I see.” Smoothly, he turned away from me and paced toward Cleverly. “We’d wondered where the Raymonds were getting the extra from. How did you get it to them without being seen?”
Cleverly stuttered. In my limited field of vision, it looked like she was setting herself not to answer. Under Garrow’s intense stare, she broke, though. “Church,” she murmured. “Mrs. Raymond was in one of the clubs. Stitch-n-Time. I’d give her a ride sometimes. No one ever batted an eye. They all knew the Raymonds couldn’t keep a car running nine times out of ten.”
I thought of the smell of the rogue wolf around the Raymond’s house, knowing it was Cleverly. If I’d had anything left in my stomach, I’d have embarrassed myself.
“You… what? Sold her the pills?” Garrow demanded.
“No! No, I gave them to her! She… she was desperate, and Landry wasn’t taking them anymore. When he’d told me he stopped, I just changed the address in his file when I was at work,” she admitted in a rush. “I was able to pick them up and say it was for him.”
Garrow sighed, long and loud. “I see. Well. Thank you, Cleverly. This is a valuable bit of insight for me into some loopholes in the system.” He moved fast, striking her backhand across the face. She cried out, falling to the floor as I shouted, trying to buck against the restraints. “Shut up. Both of you. Now,” he dropped down out of my sight, to wherever Cleverly had fallen. “Do I need to know anything else? Any other details that are important? Because I can tell you, Cleverly, that as of right now, you have ruined years of work. Years.” Another strike, this one crunching. Cleverly’s cry was muffled as she choked on what was probably blood.
“Stop! Stop it!” I roared. “You needed me, right? Here I am! Whatever you need, do it. Leave her alone!”
“You’d forgive her? Just a few minutes ago, you were so mad at her, Landry.” Garrow moved back toward me. Freckles of blood dotted his cheek. “Are you so easy in your affections, then? Is that another, what was it? Besetting sin?”
“I’m not forgiving her,” I snapped. “That doesn’t mean I want her to get beaten to death.”
Garrow glanced past me, scowling. “Don’t,” he ordered. “You don’t deserve to change.” He looked back at me, shaking his head a bit sadly. “She’s learning, poor old girl. But a true wolf, one who’d been born? They could have changed before the first strike. She’d have known; if she was truly one of us, she’d have known and fought back. Cleverly is our mascot,” he said over my aunt’s crying. “We can trot her out to show what a good girl she is, how well Lycaon can work even on a mature adult so long as there’s a hint of the wolf left in them.” He paused. “Well, I’m speaking in present tense, aren’t I? Should be past tense.” He snarled, arching and dropping to all fours. I screamed at Cleverly to run, flinging myself as hard as I could against the restraints, but it was no use. She shrieked, human voice changing to pained canine whine. I screamed again, and again, and again. I had to drown out the sounds.
When Garrow finally came back, buttoning his shirt, his face was a bit red, his hair out of place, but he looked like a man who had few cares in the world. Fewer now than he had a short time before, anyway. “Now. Another question for you, Landry. Do you ever experience sensitivity to light? Aversion to certain foods or perhaps a craving for them, things like rare steak or even steak tartare?”
The smell of blood, of wolf, of death was overpowering. My throat was raw. I felt apart from myself, floating. I could only stare back at him, unable to make words come.
“Well. I suppose that’s a ridiculous thing to ask, isn’t it? But it’s one of the questions on the survey we’re supposed to give you before the next phase. Some of our clients were concerned about the baser instincts that may present themselves during transformation. Our counselors have explained time and again that the whole idea of the werewolf eating livestock or mauling innocent humans is a fairy tale, something made up to scare rather than instruct, but I’m afraid the old prejudices are hard to shake.”
He unlocked the wheel brakes with a kick, and we were moving. He pushed me out of the theater and into the corridor. “I’m afraid we need to move. This one’s contaminated.” Anger exploded in my chest. I howled, the sound raw and torn as it burst out of my throat. Garrow jerked back, eyes wide, then pleased as he peered down at me. “Oh, yes. Now, why couldn’t you have done this ages ago?” He sighed and leaned in close. I had the urge—the need—to bite at him, to snap my teeth down on his throat, his face, anywhere soft and able to tear. He chuckled. “You always were a late bloomer.” The elevator doors dinged softly, and he glanced up. “Good, you’re here. We’ll be moving to theater three. This one—”
Something pale and huge flew past me, hitting Garrow in the chest. A chorus of snarls and snaps rose around me, Garrow’s cries transforming from shouts of anger to growls as he transformed again. A large wolf, tawny and bright-eyed, rose onto its hind legs beside me, teeth bared in a lupine grin. Fucking Waltrip. It had to be. He ducked down, a deep cut on the back of his head visible as he dove into the fray. Someone struck the gurney, and I went over, the fall knocking the wind out of me when I hit the floor. The bonds were looser but not by much. Still, it gave me literal wiggle room to start working my hands free. The thick webbing of the straps tore at my skin, but I was desperate.
The sounds of the fighting, the smell of wolf and blood, it drove me into a near frenzy that took me too long to realize wasn’t fear. It wasn’t my usual need to go, to flee and hide. It was different. New and heavy and painful in its insistence, it was a need to join. To attack and fight, to defend. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much, my eyes rolling back and body arching against the pain that ratcheted through me. Someone yelped, shock and worry in the tone. Run. This time, it wasn’t the cry of prey in my thoughts, but the demands of the predator. Go. Do it. Now. The straps were loose, easy to slip as my body relaxed out of the spasm, and before I realized what I was doing, I was moving.
Joy coursed through me. For the first time in ever, my body was right. Not just as a human but as the wolf, as the creature that had been hiding in me all this time. I felt good. No, more than good. Perfect. Colors had gone mute and strange, but I didn’t need them to know what to do, where to go. Garrow, a large wolf with pale fur and a bloody muzzle, lay on his side. He was pinned beneath the massive paws of a wolf I knew to be Ethan, struggling to get out from under him. Garrow was already injured, bleeding badly from a wound on his side. Ethan’s bloody fur told me who had done it. I paced closer, the cold of the floor a sharp feeling under my feet. Lowering my head, I peered close at Garrow’s face, at his snarling mouth and dark stained teeth.
Kill. Protect the others.
No… If he’s dead, there’s even more who will be at risk. Capture. Hold.
I looked up at Ethan. Waltrip had moved to his side and was watching us both curiously, that wide grin back on his open, panting mouth. I made a sound, meant to say ‘wait,’ and ‘don’t,’ but it came out as a throaty growl.
The fuck…
Waltrip snuffled, nudged Ethan’s shoulder with his snout, and turned toward the operating room. He danced backward, yipping in surprise when he saw who was inside. Ethan bent low and bit the back of Garrow’s neck. Waltrip made a noise like a muffled bark and moved away down the hall, where he shifted back to human form in a painful-sounding crackle of bone and muscle. Confusion held me in place, unable to look away from Ethan and Garrow.
“Hey. Hey, come on. Let me help,” Waltrip said, gently placing his hand on my back. “This is gonna suck, but I need you to let me help you so we can get out of here. There are people coming, and we need to be gone when they get here.”