by Dana Lyons
He nodded but avoided her eye. “Something has happened. I have to show you.” He stood and pulled her with him. “Get dressed.”
His words brought a chill that dissolved the heat of their lovemaking. She pulled on her clothes, a growing sense of unease creeping up her back.
Once she was dressed, he transitioned. The moonlight glistened off his silver fur, making a startling contrast against the deeper black fur. His mind bustled with excitement and anxiety. She wondered what had him so wound up, when he abruptly put his head back and howled.
She shivered at the sound. The howl spoke of loss and gain, pain and sorrow, pride and joy. If she hadn’t seen him do it, she wouldn’t believe the haunting yet mesmerizing sound came from the man she just copulated with.
Dark forms emerged from the shadows all around them, with glowing feral eyes until they stepped into the light. Wolves.
They won’t hurt you.
“Who are they? What do they want?”
They want you to join us.
“Oh, Quinn!” Tears pooled in her eyes and overflowed. He said ‘us’ as though he were a part of them.
She sat next to him and wrapped her arms and legs around him. She grabbed his tail and his ears and his muzzle. She rubbed her face into his fur, moaning, “No, no, no, no,” as she held him tighter.
Her eyes were closed and she flinched when the first lick came. Then another, and another, and another, before she realized the wolves were accepting her into their pack.
I have something to do, and I don’t know how long it might take. I need wolf right now. In the animal mind there’s a certainty, an inborn faith in the path of nature and its outcome. It’s the basis for animal patience. I need that, I need them, now, for Ivanov.
“How long?”
I don’t know, won’t know until it happens. That’s why I’m staying up here as wolf.
Tears continued to burn her nose. She fought her despair, focusing on his eyes. Behind her, the wolves surrounded them, facing outward with their tails forming a circlet around her and Quinn. Their presence was a comfort to her, knowing they’d watch over him.
There’s an ancient force in this land and these woods. It’s primitive, it beckons to the animal. I’m comfortable up here.
“I noticed it when we flew in. It’s a raw presence, very visceral.”
Yes, Mother Nature. He gave her a doggy grin and thumped his tail. Don’t count her out.
One of the wolves yipped.
She asked, “What is it?”
They don’t like Ivanov; he frightens them.
“Aren’t all wolves frightened of humans?”
In this case, it’s his howl of pain that frightens them.
She cocked an eyebrow.
About three o’clock every night, he screams. At least he has every night he’s been here. His howl strikes fear in their hearts. They want you to take him away.
She scratched behind his ears, remembering Lazar’s instructions not to drink from the paper cups. “Lazar is going to take care of Ivanov. All things considered, I think we owe Lazar the opportunity to do . . . what he wants to do.” She hugged him tight and whispered into his fur. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I need this pack right now.
She stood, knowing she couldn’t do or say anything to change his mind. At the very least, he had to stay up here and out of Ivanov’s sight. “I’m going back.” He flicked his ears; the wolves walked off and gave her room to move.
Don’t worry. I love you.
“We love you, too. Stay safe, keep in touch.”
They escorted her to the top of the ridge and Quinn set her on the right path back to the camp. The wolves stopped at the edge of the brush, sticking to the denser cover. She turned on her flashlight because the moon had set behind her. She couldn’t forget what he said.
What strikes fear in the heart of a wolf?
“Ivanov.”
She returned to camp the long way and skirted the lake. An old wooden dock waited for nonexistent boats and she walked out, her mind distracted by the vision of Quinn with a wolf pack at his back.
The sun came up behind her and painted the morning sky with fire. In the drifting clouds she found the faces of her pack with the world afire around them. The thought of how fragile her world was sent a shiver down her spine.
Today Ivanov’s life would change according to Lazar’s design. How far do we trust Lazar? Without an answer, she put her back to the sky and hurried to shore.
At the end of the dock she spotted a some-what fresh looking cigarette butt and reached for the plastic bag still in her pocket. She retrieved it and headed toward the lab, where the lights were on.
Suddenly, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Ivanov, and apparently Stepan as well, for she had an idea what was coming for them.
I can’t think of two who need it more.
But the thrill came with her growing sense of dread as it moved up her spine. In her heart, she knew that somehow, Quinn was tied up in this. She turned toward the lab to drop off the butt.
12
Dreya just got into bed when she heard the helicopter land. Above her head, Rhys nestled next to her pillow. Simon stretched across the bed from the corner at her feet to the vacant head space next to her. She wiggled a foot between his big back feet, loving the feel of his silky fur against her flesh. His morning purr kicked on and he stretched from end to end.
“Ivanov is back,” she announced. She didn’t know if that was good news or bad.
Simon contracted his body into a 200-pound pussy in the center of the mattress. He tucked his head and curled his paws to cover his face.
She stroked him with her foot. Are you smiling under there?
He uncurled enough to tag one of her hands and pulled it in. Next, he gave the back of her hand a lashing with his rough tongue. He purred, sending his vibration through the bed.
Rhys made his sleepy bird noise and jumped over next to her chest. She pulled him in so his glossy wings rested against her breasts. This morning routine gave every day incredible depth. Their minds were open and sleepy, content to just touch and lounge together mentally.
She thanked Lazar and the gods, and anyone who listened, for the bizarre turn her life had made.
We love you, too echoed from Rhys and Simon.
How would Ivanov’s life change, beginning today? Would he have a seizure and foam at the mouth like they had? Or would it take months to see change?
Why does it matter? Rhys asked sleepily.
“Because if it’s going to take months for him to change, we’re going to arrest him.”
Simon released her hand and sat up, yawning, his long fangs quickly bared, making his eyes squint. And I thought today was a party day, no work.
Rhys stood on his bird legs and shook his wings out half way. I don’t want to miss any of this. He chirped softly and jumped to the floor. He transitioned. “I’m hitting the shower.”
Simon bounded to the floor, transitioned, and followed Rhys’ lead. “I’m going to hit the other shower. Stay in bed a little longer, princess.”
She scooted to the center of the mattress and claimed the warm spot Simon left. She ached for Quinn to return and couldn’t shake a sense of dread for something coming, like a bad storm just over the horizon.
Quinn, I miss you. But he didn’t answer.
Rhys returned to the bedroom with wet hair and a towel around his hips. “I know you just got in bed from wherever you went last night, but the shower’s all yours, the water is nice and hot.”
When she didn’t move, he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. “You know he’s coming back.”
“I do?” she mumbled into the pillow. “How is that?”
“Because the other pack doesn’t have you.”
“No secrets around here,” she groaned.
“No secrets. Now, come on, get up. The Lazar and Ivanov show is about to begin.”
After she showered and dressed, she a
nd Rhys walked over to the kitchen. Simon already had breakfast started and they walked in to the smell of bacon on the grill.
Ivanov and Stepan sat at the prep table, watching.
Oh, boy. Here we go. Remember—
Rhys shot her a slanted glance. Don’t drink from the paper cups!
They grabbed coffee, trying to be casual, but seeing Ivanov reminded her what the wolves said.
His nightmares make wolves shiver.
Today he was smartly dressed in expensive slacks, a knit shirt, and a leather jacket. “Morning, Agent,” he said. “Did you get your questions answered?”
“I did.” She dropped her eyes, even though she wore her sunglasses. Until he drank from the water cooler, she had a lot of secrets to stow. “Enough answers to complete my report when we go home.”
“No evidence of criminal activity in my business with Dr. Lazar?”
She sipped her coffee. “None that I know of, yet.”
“Breakfast is served,” Simon announced. He set plates of bacon and omelet with potatoes in front of her and Rhys. “You boys staying to eat?” he asked.
Ivanov stepped away. “As a matter of fact, I have business with the doctor. If you’ll excuse us.”
He and Stepan walked off with their three faces watching their backs intently.
* * *
Ivanov walked through the door to the lab, his senses perched on the edge of a precipice as life-changing as the day his mother sold him.
“Doctor,” he said softly. He nodded to Stepan to give them space and he held his tongue until Stepan wandered off to stand guard on the farthest corner of the room.
His heart pounded and his palms sweated; he wanted this more than anything else in his life, even more than his freedom from Nikolay or his mother. Lazar stared at him intently, making his mouth dry. He filled a cup at the cooler, drank and dropped the empty in the trash.
Lazar cocked his head. “What is it, Sasha? Do you wish out of our contract? I was just getting ready for the samples.” He motioned to several rows of glass tubes prepped on a work table.
Ivanov licked his dry lips and waved his hand, dismissing the topic. “I don’t care about the organ farms and the other things we discussed.” His mouth was dry again and he filled another cup and drank. He crushed the cup and dropped it in the trash. Nervous, he ran a hand through his hair and blurted, “Can you make me perfect?”
He hurriedly held his hand out. “Don’t answer right away because I have money for anything you need. Think about whether you can do it before you answer.”
Lazar frowned and squinted at him like he was a bug under glass. He rushed on. “If you had all the money in the world, could you do it? Could you give me vision like the Agent, and a better body that would never get sick or age?”
He paused to lick his lips. “Can you make me immortal?” He breathed heavily with anticipation. Silence expanded before Lazar answered.
“I would have to analyze your DNA, Sasha. And then, it’s not up to me. All the answers are in the DNA.”
He exhaled slowly through pursed lips. While the doctor’s answer wasn’t quite the heady affirmation he’d hoped for, neither was it a firm no. “What do you need? Spit, hair, blood?” He offered his arm.
“Blood is good,” Lazar said.
He removed his jacket and presented his bare arm.
Lazar applied the tourniquet. “What kind of modifications are you looking for, Sasha, if I were able to do such a thing?”
He had lain awake all night, unable to sleep for pondering the many things he’d change if he could. While his history couldn’t be changed, in the name of compensation for his years of suffering, he’d accept eternal good health. “I want to live a long time, a healthy long time.”
The needle entered his arm and the tourniquet released. Lazar peered at him while the tube filled with blood. “What changes would you make in this future of perfect health?”
He couldn’t resist a long look toward the kitchen and the woman whose presence filled him with a yearning he’d never experienced. She attracted him in a way he couldn’t explain.
I want her approval. More, I want to be like her. In turn. I want people to want to be like me.
He answered, “More changes than I can think of right now.” He paused, forehead wrinkled when he thought of his many enterprises. “I’ll have to close down my businesses.”
Lazar capped and labeled the tube of blood. “That’s truly admirable, Sasha. Are you sure you can live with these actions?”
The doctor’s piercing gaze crawled under his skin, burrowed deep to examine beneath his heart and soul, spurring his thoughts. He frowned with mystery as he thought of actions utterly alien and unknown to him.
He seemed to wobble even though he was sitting and grabbed the chair. The concrete of his world had turned to sand. Amazed, he announced a previously inconceivable response. “I don't think I could live with anything else.”
Lazar responded in a speculative tone. “I’ll let you know what your DNA says.” He put the blood sample in the small refrigerator.
Heat fired in Ivanov’s body and a hum arose in his head. He placed a finger in one ear and shook his head.
“Are you all right, Sasha?”
Lazar continued to watch him with a disturbing intensity, yet his words sounded as if they came through water. As he spoke, the doctor’s lips stretched impossibly long. Ivanov halted an abrupt snort of laughter with a hand to his lips. What the hell?
Then everything went dark.
* * *
In a form without a face, he floated in a weightless state. At his belly, a chord extended out of sight in the distance. He twitched and flinched as visions scraped across his mind’s eye. Soon, a blackness snaked up the chord from far away, reaching for him at the end.
He sat up, a scream in his throat and a sweat on his back. The clock said 1:30 A.M. “Too early to scream,” he mumbled. The nightmares had been with him since he returned from killing his mother. He and Stepan were used to them, Stepan joking that he could set his watch by them wherever they were.
He frowned as he realized he’d slept all day. What happened at the lab?
I gave blood, then I passed out. Lazar must have given me something during the blood draw.
He examined the puncture wound and found nothing irregular. “Stepan,” he croaked, but his throat was too dry to speak. Understanding only that he needed water, he walked out the door and into the dark forest.
The moon glowed full in the night sky, chasing shadows in the dark and delivering illumination to haunt the trees. He heard moving water and climbed to the top of the ridge to catch the stream that filled the lake below.
The moonlight boiled in his blood, the energy from the trees invaded his bones, the night sky cried in a language he didn’t understand. He staggered to the stream and ripped his clothes off before wading in. “What’s happening to me?” he screamed at the night sky. He held his hands to his head and twisted with searing heat.
He fell and sank in the water. The cold covered his head and struck his nervous system like pure adrenalin. He rose, shivering, water sluicing down his shoulders. As he stepped out, he came face to face with a great wolf.
* * *
Quinn heard the call from Dreya. Ivanov seized and passed out. Lazar says he got two of four doses today. In wolf form, the primordial energy of the forest ran through Quinn’s cells, his tissues, his organs, his DNA. He seethed with the relentless power of nature inherent in all creatures, in the wolf pack, and even in Ivanov.
That evening, he and the pack waited for Ivanov’s nightly screams. Before it was time for them, another sound drew them out of hiding and they moved to the ridgeline. Without a means of light or even shoes, Ivanov came up the hill along the small track.
Quinn smelled Ivanov’s sweat with its hundreds of chemicals, odors, and pheromones. Fear, confusion, chaos. Hyper-excitement and growth hormones reeked from Ivanov’s body, indicating a cellular destruction and
regeneration cycle at a tremendous level. The chemical signature of this explosive growth created heat.
Water. He’ll go for the water to put out the fire.
Quinn turned for the stream, the pack following. By the time they arrived, Ivanov was tearing his clothes off and going in.
When he came out, Quinn waited for him.
Ivanov’s wild eyes focused on him. Eye to eye they held each other locked in visual combat. Quinn heard Ivanov’s pounding heart, tasted his acrid blood on his tongue.
All I have to do is lunge for his throat, and it would all be over. I could kill this inhuman animal, and the world would be a better place. That way, his dreams and mine could both be silenced. And the team will be protected.
Wolf argued. Does this animal look like a threat to the pack? How does killing him serve the pack?
Ivanov staggered from the stream, crying, and fell to his knees. “What’s happening to me?” he whimpered over and over. He covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.
He pulled his lips up in a snarl, long teeth bared in a life-threatening visage and approached Ivanov.
Ivanov slumped. “I can’t stop you. Go ahead, rip me apart. I deserve it.”
For all his faith in Lazar, and whatever he’d imagined Lazar would do to Ivanov, this he didn’t expect. Wolf sat on his haunches, refusing to release the urge to kill. Quinn’s mind argued with all the answers, yet avoided the one from wolf’s mind that nagged him.
What will Ivanov become if allowed to live?
Quinn’s life was the only comparison he had for before and after Lazar. Before Lazar, he suffered misery, doubt, fear, weakness, and the unrelenting grudge of grief.
After Lazar and Nobility, the certainty of wolf calmed his heart. The faith and patience inherent in nature solidified and strengthened his desires. His love of the woman and her human pack called to him. He was the best of both worlds, of wolf and human, with a shrinking list of bad traits.