by Sarah Noffke
“I expect you to stick around. We might need your help in the werewolf case and also I can’t have you prowling the streets or getting picked up by Olento Research,” she said, all the prior warmth in her voice replaced with a professional tone.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” Connor said, his careful eyes on her.
“Don’t be offended when I say a promise from a drug addict is pretty unreliable in my book. Or hey, do be offended. I don’t bloody care,” Adelaide said, wishing he’d look away from her, look down at the ground with shame.
“Well, I’ll just prove it to you by actually sticking around,” Connor said. “I want to help now, so let me know how I can.”
“I will, when you’re strong enough,” Adelaide said and turned to leave. But then something stopped her; something in her made her turn back to Connor. And the impulse was so strong, like a river rushing through a dam. She opened her mouth and the words fell out. “I’ve run away from my problems before. I abandoned my son and tried to escape using drugs and alcohol. So I get it.”
“You did?” Connor said, standing suddenly, walking closer to Adelaide. “Why?”
Her eyes pulled to the side, unable to look at him. “I ran away because I didn’t know how to control the monster inside of me. I was afraid of what it would make me do. I truly believed it was a curse,” she said, remembering over a year ago when her father tracked her down. He told her, “We always have tomorrow to change. To evolve. But you have to come back for that to work. You have to give yourself a second chance.”
The old memory made her throat feel tied in two. “Connor,” Adelaide said, trying to breathe past the old pain, “you have a wolf in you which makes you powerful. It makes it hard for you to always be in control. I get it. What you’re going to have to do is embrace the wolf or it will corrupt you.”
“Is that what you did? You embraced the monster inside of you?” Connor said.
She nodded. “I owned my power and all the burden it creates for me and the divisions it causes for those around me. But every day I still struggle with the monster. We are constantly reconciling our differences, but I try not to give up. To run away.”
“This power, was it similar to your father’s?” he asked
Adelaide knew Ren’s skill set was included in his biography in the Dream Traveler Codex because it was only distributed to Lucidites. Otherwise, Ren would have never divulged such information to other societies of Dream Travelers. Also, Ren was proud of his powers, never modest about them, like Adelaide.
“Yes, I have most of his powers,” she said.
“Oh,” Connor said, his eyes falling down to her hand, the one she couldn’t touch anyone with without being burdened by their thoughts. “Then you must really know what it’s like, the struggle. How it cuts you off from others, makes it impossible to feel normal.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” she said and turned and walked away, leaving Connor standing alone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“UPDATE: Kaleb Magner – Age: Eighteen. Height: Five foot, eight inches. Weight: One hundred fifty-five pounds. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Ethnicity: White. Employment: None/High school dropout. Skill: Time-Stopper. Rank: Huge Pain in the Ass.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“Wolf X,” Adelaide said, tossing a folder down on the conference room table. It slid until it rested in front of Zephyr. “That’s what the head officials and I have termed the big bad wolf that you found in San Francisco. The one who took Orion and will surely be back for more of you.”
“So, you and Trent and Trey sat around reading my notes and the best you came up with was a name for the grotesque beast who broke Orion’s neck?” Zephyr said, his eyebrows knitting together and his voice bordering on hostile.
“Actually we didn’t just name the freakish monster. Aiden also figured out a potential way that it was genetically created at Olento Research. And then we detailed ten different ways that you all were screwed. We sipped our tea and contemplated your demise. It was all very boring,” Adelaide said, her eyes seeking to look anywhere but at the back of the room where Connor clung to the shadows. He’d asked for that hidden position so he could observe the pack without being inundated by them. Adelaide recognized that he needed time to assimilate back into the Lucidites and this time might be harder than the first.
“How did this thing know Orion was going to be there? You all have clairvoyants. What do they have at Olento?” Rio said.
“Olento Research probably relies on police reports and real news. We relied on it before Roya was back in action. However, using real news makes it difficult to simulate a thousand dots into one in order to tell a story. We are better off relying on the news reporters from now on,” Adelaide said.
“So there’s a gigantic werewolf snapping necks and taking names? What’s the plan?” Rox said, earning a look of punishment from Zephyr. He obviously didn’t appreciate her overly casual nature right then.
“We wait for Roya or another news reporter to get insight on a case,” Adelaide said.
“How can we just sit around when there are werewolves out there potentially being hunted?” Zephyr said, standing from the conference table.
Adelaide swallowed, trying to figure out how to answer that. How could she assign them on the case when there were no leads? How could she put her team in jeopardy just so they’d be doing something? She picked up her book and thumbed to a seemingly random page. It read: “Those who can’t believe in their full greatness will never experience it.”
Well, that was a bullshit line if ever she saw one. Adelaide thumbed through the book, stopping on the chapter for teleporting. If only she believed in her own greatness she could do something amazing like teleporting.
“We don’t sit around,” a voice said from the back of the room. Everyone looked up to see Connor, who stepped out of the shadows, the bags under his eyes not as bad as they were the day before.
Zephyr stood at first seeing Connor, stalking over to him. “You’re up? I didn’t know you were in here.” The alpha wolf looked over Connor, finally bringing his eyes up to meet his with a satisfied smile.
“I am,” he said, extending and shaking Zephyr’s hand.
Then Zephyr turned, his arm sliding around Connor’s shoulders. “Rio, meet Connor, the second werewolf. The one who survived even though we left him behind,” he said, his voice neutral, his shoulders held back, like he had a renewed strength.
Rio was up, his hand in Connor’s at once. Even Kaleb had stood, greeting Connor with a small smile. The four werewolves all exchanged looks of a shared camaraderie, something Adelaide couldn’t relate to. But it felt right amongst the men, like they deserved it, were owed it.
“So you were saying,” Zephyr said to Connor. “You said we shouldn’t sit around. What do you propose?”
“I propose we train. We work together as a team so when Wolf X shows up again we have the skills to take him down,” Connor said.
Zephyr nodded. “Each of us could benefit from combat training,” Zephyr said.
“Or some weight lifting,” Rio said, pinching Kaleb’s bicep.
“Ha-ha, yeah, I’ll totally get to that, Dimples,” Kaleb said, pulling his arm away from Rio with an only half-offended look.
Adelaide looked at Rox and then the pack, hoping this was a good sign. Were they on to better things, as they grew, or would that only lead to more chaos? She didn’t know. And she feared what she didn’t know.
Kris hung close to the front of the room, her eyes on the book that Adelaide had abandoned. The one that had said that one word. The one that Mika had repeated over and over again. Teleportation. She’d known she’d find information on teleporting at the Lucidite Institute, but hadn’t realized it would be in such an indiscreet place.
With everyone’s focus on the pack of werewolves, she lifted the book off the table. It momentarily remained solid before turning invisible in her hands, and then she slid it into the bag str
apped across her chest. Now she had what she came for and could finally go home.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Grant Walker – Age: Forty. Height: Five foot, ten inches. Weight: One hundred seventy pounds. Hair: Black. Eyes: Brown. Ethnicity: White. Employment: Director of Security for Olento Research. Skill: Super Werewolf.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
Grant’s boot kicked up dust when he stepped out of the vehicle. His head hurt. No, not really hurt. It felt off, like the bones of his skull didn’t fit right anymore. He’d tell Drake when he returned to Olento Research. It had to be a result of mutating. Maybe they could dial back the mutation so it wasn’t so radical. So Grant could sleep at night, not being overwhelmed by the ache in his bones.
He stepped out of the vehicle all the way to find the rolling pasture empty, save for the evening fog rolling in over the ridge. Nothing but farmland and woods could be seen, but Grant knew someone was nearby. He could smell them and with each inhale he felt more lost to his primal need. Soon he’d have to mutate, allowing the wolf to take over, but he feared again he wouldn’t be able to control it. With each step through the dry field he felt his control being tied down. I’m in charge, he told himself, only half feeling it. But he couldn’t disappoint Mika again. He was here on a mission, one that was important. And Mika believed in him.
Grant took a deep inhale and a scent so powerful seized his olfactory senses. It possessed him. Told Grant exactly where to go. Told him what he’d been missing and craved with everything he owned. He set off to the right, through a pasture that soon met a thick woods, in the direction of nothing as far as he could see. But it felt right. It felt like he was drawing nearer to that which he needed.
When he entered the woods, Grant set off at a sprint, as only he could, quickly morphing into werewolf form. Quickly becoming the monster who constantly spoke in his head, saying things it shouldn’t. And then he was outside his clothes. He burst out of them, as his body enlarged. The bones in his face and head crunched and shifted, making room for his new features and his fangs. It didn’t feel right, not that it ever had, but his face seemed like a puzzle that wasn’t put together correctly.
Grant halted when the woods broke away and a cabin came into view some twenty yards in the distance. Suddenly he didn’t know how to proceed. That had been true for him on most of his cases working for Mika, always full of hesitation. The wolf knew what to do, but what he wanted wasn’t right. It would get them in more trouble. We are here to capture Hugo, he reminded the wolf in his head. Doubt followed his sentence. How does one werewolf capture another? He thought he knew how, but really he didn’t. He needed to force Hugo into submission, but how? That wasn’t really the important question, but rather how to gain control without then feasting on the werewolf. That was the problem for Grant. He was so hungry. All he wanted was warm flesh. It was the best feeling. The worst. The best possible fate he’d been waiting for. The worst fate ever. Grant was where he needed to be, and not.
He was supposed to bring Hugo in unharmed. Sneak up on him and knock him out. That shouldn’t be hard since he was more powerful than three werewolves combined.
With a measured glare at the property, Grant stepped out of the brush, racing up to the side of the house, hardly visible to the human eye, he moved so fast. He halted a moment too late, his shoulder ramming into the side of the cabin, jarring it with a loud thud. A moment later, the door to the cabin opened and Hugo raced out, coming around the corner at once and then nearly tripping as he froze at the sight before him.
With wide eyes, Hugo stepped carefully back, his hands unmoving by his side. He was going to try to run. He’s going to make this more fun, Grant thought. But it wasn’t a game. This was a mission. Assault him, bind him, and take him in.
The wolf growled viciously in his head before doing it out loud. Then it sprung forward, lunging at Hugo. Fangs sunk down into Hugo’s shoulder, pushing him to the ground. The werewolf subdued the man at once, with minimal injury. One that would easily heal. But the taste of blood and the feel of the flesh lingered as the beast pulled its mouth away, its clawed hands pinning down Hugo, who didn’t scream or fight. He only looked at the animal on top of him with confused, frantic eyes. The werewolf’s tongue licked its mouth covered in blood and bits of flesh and that was all it took. The hunger overwhelmed the wolf and Grant was gone. The animal was fully in charge. Grant was powerless to the wolf’s desires. It dived forward, clamping its teeth through flesh and ligaments, pulling them apart.
After attacking Hugo and knocking him to the ground, the werewolf then pounced on his midsection, tearing open his stomach. Hugo tried to scream out, but only a cracking sound fell from his mouth. He turned his head to the side, away from where the werewolf, the one so strong and large, was licking at the huge laceration it had made in Hugo’s abdomen. His eyes then fell on his shoulder, which was ripped open, a chunk of meat lying to the side. The pain wasn’t even close to bearable. It was the vilest hell, and every second of being eaten alive was torture unlike any he’d ever known. And quite suddenly, the gigantic werewolf pulled himself off Hugo, his black eyes meeting his briefly, and then it simply turned and dragged itself away, strangely whimpering as it did.
Hugo lay awake, feeling like he was being roasted by the pain. The cold air breezed over his open wounds, basting him in more torture. Nothing could ever be worse, he thought. And then he heard approaching feet and looked in that direction, seeing his intestines lying on top of his stomach. Things could get worse, he thought. But then through his fuzzy vision he saw the figure, covered in white and black hair. The mustang, the one he had wanted to befriend, approached through the mist, its head down.
What can be done for you? the horse said in Hugo’s head.
Hugo tried to shake his head, tears pouring down his cheeks as he attempted this. Nothing, he said, grateful he didn’t have to use his voice.
You see now why I couldn’t trust you. I knew what you were, the elegant wild horse said.
I know, Hugo said, his body starting to shake all over, his head turning into what felt like fire.
The horse took a step forward, lowering its head. I am sorry this happened to you, the horse said in his head.
I am too, Hugo said, his vision turning black in spots. Will you please do something for me?
Yes, the horse said simply.
Knock down the door so the dog can get out, and take down the gate so the chickens are free. I don’t want them to starve, Hugo said, suddenly not feeling any pain. Suddenly not feeling anything.
In your final moments you think of the animals? the horse said.
In all moments I think of the animals, Hugo said. And Markie too, he thought.
You are good. In another time, if you were not part wolf, then we might have been friends, the mustang said, lifting its beautiful head and looking out to the property Hugo had built.
I would have liked that, Hugo said, closing his eyes.
Peace to you, Animal Talker, the horse said just as Hugo let out his final breath, slipping away for good.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Wolf X appears to have a higher genetic wolf component than the men in the original pack. It was reported that he wasn’t wearing clothes in werewolf form, probably due to a massive growth in muscles and bone structure.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!” Adelaide said, throwing papers from her desk. She was aware that Pops and Lucien could hear her from the other room and she totally didn’t care. Where the fuck was her book! She had it and then it was gone. Completely disappeared. And soon she was going to have to start questioning people, which would only draw attention to her and the book. She might even have to touch people to find out answers, and that was the most frustrating idea of all. But her book! It was gone! Ren’s book. She hadn’t even read half of it and now it was gone. But where? Who would take her book? The people in the Institute weren’t
thieves. They were the ones who stopped thieves.
Adelaide picked up her comforter and hurled it in the hallway with a grunt. A clean white sheet sat crumpled on the bed. No book. She’d had the book in the strategic department. Then she didn’t have it. Maybe Kaleb took it as a prank. If that was the case then he was dead. She didn’t care if he had the most useful skill. She’d murder him with hypnosis.
“Bankey,” Lucien said, tossing himself into the crumpled blanket. His red hair was a stark contrast to the white comforter as he snuggled into the mess lying on the ground. Sometimes it amazed Adelaide when he played, since he was often serious, like her father. Lucien actually took after Ren in most ways. But still he was a child and children were meant to play.
“Lucy, where’s my book?” Adelaide said, squatting down and looking at her son, like he had answers to this mystery.
He rose from the mass of blankets and stared at his mum, a sudden seriousness on his face. Then the boy pointed at the hallway. “There,” he said with a slight lisp.
Adelaide turned her gaze to the empty entryway that led out to the Institute. “Yeah, I agree. That wanker Kaleb probably has it,” she said, rising and starting for the exit.