The Shifter's Choice

by Jenna Kernan

  But he couldn’t, of course. Not as long as he was a werewolf.

  “This is terrible.”

  “Yes, so you’ll understand why you shouldn’t tell Sergeant Lam that you feel like a lab rat because he actually was one.”

  Sonia sank down in her seat. “I had no idea.”

  “But we are trying to make him human. This whole place, is all here for Johnny.” The captain lifted his arms indicating the compound. “Everyone here. It’s our purpose.”

  They weren’t all here only for Johnny, she thought, remembering what she knew about the captain’s wife. She wanted to ask him about her, but didn’t have the courage. They sat in silence for a time.

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Why the fencing? Johnny says he’s not a prisoner and I’m sure he could jump it or tear it down.”

  The captain said nothing to this.

  “Is it for your wife?”

  The captain’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What about my wife?”

  “Johnny says that she’s a—a vampire.”

  “He shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “Is the fence for her?”

  The captain looked away. “In a way. She’s a target. I’m protecting her.”

  “From what?”

  “Male vampires.”

  “A fence can keep them out?”

  “No. It can alert me when they arrive. But only a werewolf is strong enough to kill a male vampire.”

  The realization came first and then a rising wave of indignation. She beat her fists on the dash.

  “I knew it! You’re keeping him here—like some guard dog, to protect her?” Her fists were clenched on her knees. She wanted to strike, but she held back.

  He stared her down, matching the fury with a glare that made her stomach twist. The captain looked pissed and dangerous as hell.

  “That’s not his job,” he said. “It’s mine.”

  “You said only a werewolf could protect her.” She meant the comment as accusation, but the moment she said it the captain’s expression changed and she understood the truth.

  They’d been together in Afghanistan, Johnny and her captain.

  “You,” she whispered.

  He didn’t deny it.

  Who else? she wondered. The wounded warriors? The MPs? Who else were werewolves?

  “Touma. For once in your life, follow your orders and stop thinking so much.”

  She sat back, sagging into the seat. She should have known all along.

  “No lesson today. We need Johnny to come down to medical but after what happened in California he doesn’t like to come in for tests.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “This is different. We’ve made a breakthrough. He needs to see.” The captain pulled the Jeep back out onto the road. “I don’t care what you have to promise him, just get him down here as quick as you can. That’s an order, Private. Your ass if he doesn’t show.”

  Now how exactly did he expect her to accomplish what no one else had been able to do? He gave her a lot more credit than she deserved. Johnny only learned the signs as payback for her little revelations. She didn’t have a secret big enough to get him off that hill.

  Her head sunk. Yes, she did. But damned if she’d talk about that to him when Marianna didn’t even know.

  Sonia set her teeth and hissed at the captain. He didn’t seem to notice.

  Her superior had no qualms about using her to get Johnny to do what he wanted. She didn’t like being a tool, but she liked her other option even less. She responded as expected. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  When they passed the turnoff to the captain’s home a dozen questions sprang on her like hungry tigers.

  She danced around the subject that so occupied her. “Does your wife like living up on the hill?”

  He glanced at her out of the side of his eyes and then returned his attention to the rough road. “She does, yes. And she’s very protective of Johnny. They became friends in California. If you hurt him, I’ll be the least of your problems.”

  She definitely did not need a vampire pissed at her.

  The captain dropped her off a few minutes later. “Call for a pickup. Sooner is better.”

  Johnny greeted her on the porch and invited her inside to the immaculate living room that he never used. She sat and Johnny perched on the adjoining ottoman like a tiger on a toadstool, waiting with folded hands for her to begin the lesson. But there would be no lesson today. So did she just blurt it out or try to ease into the topic of the medical center? Subtlety was never her strong suit.

  She drew a breath preparing to dive into deep water.

  “Johnny, the captain told me about what happened in California and at the lab. I think it’s terrible.”

  His brow descended and his posture went stiff. She reached for him and laid a hand on his forearm, giving a little squeeze but he wouldn’t look at her.

  “Thank you for asking him to tell me.”

  He glanced at her now, but his muscles remained rigid under her light touch.

  “I understand you not wanting to go back to a lab. But the captain, well, he says he needs to show you something.”

  He started to rise but she pressed down on his shoulder, as if that could stop him, but it did. Instead of knocking her hand aside, he placed his over hers and looked up at her with wide yellow eyes that were as foreign as the surface of the moon.

  “It’s not a test. He told me it’s not a test.”

  Johnny shook his head as his eyes asked her to understand.

  She slid her hand free to allow her to sign. “He also said it’s my ass if you don’t show.”

  Johnny slapped an open hand on the coffee table and all four legs snapped as the top hit the floor. He rose like a wave and paced through the dining area to the windows that led to the back porch. There he pivoted and paced back, coming to a smooth stop before the collapsed table. Grace in motion, she thought.

  “What are you going to do?”

  He signed his answer. You come?

  She nodded. “If you want me to.”

  He finger spelled T-R-A-N-S-L-A-T-O-R.

  “You’ll go?” She barely kept herself from wilting with relief. “Thank you.”

  Johnny did not look pleased but he nodded.

  “May I use your phone?”

  He nodded and pointed to the one mounted on the wall.

  After calling for their ride she asked to use his bathroom. He led the way and she trailed down the hallway that bisected the other half of the house. He had a guest bedroom. She peeked in there as they passed and saw stereo equipment, a wide-screen plasma TV with surround-sound speakers mounted on the walls. Instead of carpets, the floor was covered with two very large futons. One spread like an area rug and the other folded in half and leaning against one wall like a headboard. Both showed the indentation of a large body and a prodigious amount of black hair. This, quite obviously, was where Johnny relaxed. His man cave, she decided as they passed by the door.

  He stepped aside to allow her to pass before him into a room to the left. There was a king-size bed that was still not long enough for a giant. His coverlet was a tropical garden of interlacing bamboo. The pillows, all four, had the same matching design. He was either very careful at making his bed or he didn’t sleep here.

  The bedside table had a clock but nothing else. No photos, no electronics. The walls had paintings that you might see in a hotel, a palm tree, a spray of orchids. But unlike a hotel, there was no bureau and the walk-in closet was empty because, she realized, Johnny did not need any clothing.

  Did he live in the movie theater room or in the forest? She wasn’t sure. But she was sure he didn’t stay in this room.

  He halted at a narrow door and pointed, then turned and left her, closing the door to his bedroom as he went.

  Sonia opened the door to find a huge bathroom that seemed to have been constructed in what would have been the third bedroom. Everything was adjusted for a nin
e-foot tall man. She turned in a circle, impressed that the military could get this right. Had Johnny chosen the modern fixtures or had the U.S. Marines done that? What about the overlarge towels and the woven rattan floor mat?

  The toilet was so tall that, when she sat, her feet didn’t touch the ground. After she finished she washed her hands in the sink, and realized that it was set so high that she had to raise her arms to shoulder level just to reach inside. The mirror gave her a perfect view of her forehead.

  There was no soap on the sink, so she opened the medicine cabinet. The inside had a mirrored back so she could still see herself. She could also see the contents of the bottom shelf: mint mouthwash, dental floss, a toothbrush, whitening toothpaste, a bottle of liquid drain cleaner and a .44 Magnum. She frowned and lifted the drain cleaner. This didn’t belong here. It should be under the sink, not near his toothbrush and mouthwash. Her gaze flicked back to the gun. That didn’t belong here, either. A werewolf did not need a handgun for home defense.

  So what were they doing in his bathroom?

  Her eyes rounded at the realization.

  They said his skin was bulletproof. But Sonia thought if Johnny put that drain cleaner or the muzzle of that gun in his mouth...

  Her skin flashed cold and gooseflesh rose on her arms as the truth hit her. Johnny wanted to die.

  On the day she had arrived the captain had said Johnny was depressed and suicidal but she hadn’t really believed it, until now.

  Sonia stared at the evidence she could no longer deny.

  She sensed him behind her. The moment she met his gaze in the mirror she saw him take in her horrified expression. His face went tight and his jaws locked. Then he lowered his snout and glared a challenge at her. She didn’t pretend she didn’t understand but met his cold stare.

  Her heart hurt and she pressed a hand over the ache. “Oh, Johnny, no.”

  He reached past her and slammed the medicine cabinet door closed, removing the handgun from her line of sight. Then he took the drain cleaner from her trembling hands and placed it under his sink. Finally he grasped her wrist and pulled her from the bathroom.

  “Johnny. You can’t,” she babbled. “You mustn’t.”

  He kept walking and didn’t stop until they were outside on the porch. The warm sunshine streamed down on the yard making everything look idyllic. It made what she had seen even more surreal. She tugged and he released her. They stood facing each other and then she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms about his middle as she burst into tears. He went still at that and then lifted his big heavy arms and patted her back. They gradually came to rest on her shoulders.

  “Johnny!” she cried. “You can’t kill yourself.”

  Wouldn’t she if she were in his place? She didn’t know. Her first thought was of Marianna and how hurt she would be. Johnny had a family, didn’t he? What had the captain said? “You don’t want to hurt your family. Your mom. Your sister. Julia...Joon.” She rushed on, babbling now. “We have to go to the lab. They have something to show you. Maybe...” She didn’t believe what she was about to say but she said it anyway. “Maybe they know how to fix you.”

  He blew out a breath. The air was a hot blast on her neck even in the warm sunshine. Then he peeled her away and stepped back. He descended the stairs with a heavy tread. At the bottom he looked back, with brows raised, as if to ask if she were coming or not.

  Sonia charged after him. She had to get him to the captain.

  * * *

  Sonia and Johnny reached the back door of the medical building twenty minutes later. This entrance had an enclosed tunnel from the mountainside that allowed Johnny to come and go without drawing any notice. Johnny didn’t like being the center of attention, according to her bunkmates. As the captain said, they all knew of Johnny, though not all had seen him. No one spoke of the captain’s wife which made her wonder if they did not know what she was.

  “Are you ready to go in?” she asked.

  No. But go now.

  The moment they passed the doors they received an escort through the facility and down into the basement. They passed several swooshing doors and signs that said Restricted. Finally they were led into a viewing room. Beyond the glass panels was a series of nine stainless steel doors about three feet square. They reminded Sonia of the dumbwaiters she had seen in a movie except these were three across and three down making a strange metal tic-tac-toe pattern. She noticed each door had a corresponding number painted above it.

  Three men stood before the doors around a stainless-steel table that looked as if it were used for autopsies. The first was Captain MacConnelly. The second was the base commander, Major Paul Scofield. She had met him briefly on the day she arrived. She didn’t know the third but he wore a lab coat. He was a paunchy clean-shaven man with a captain’s bar on his collar, his double chin made more noticeable by the angle of his head. She glanced at Johnny who now rocked from side to side. Was it the lab coats or the place that made him uneasy?

  “Just in there, Sergeant,” said the shorter of their companions. The two marines clicked their heels and saluted. Johnny returned it and then headed for the door beside the glass viewing panels.

  At the sound of the door opening MacConnelly’s brow’s lifted. Sonia wrinkled her nose at the odd combination of odors. There was antiseptic, bleach and the smell of urine. That last smell made her stomach cramp and her mind leaped back. It took a few moments to stop shaking. She glanced about in discomfort but all eyes were on Johnny.

  “John.” The captain extended his hand and Johnny shook it. There was no salute between them. Johnny did salute Scofield who returned the salute with a smile and a clap on Johnny’s arm.

  “Good to see you, son,” said their commander.

  Sonia held her salute but no one seemed to notice her. Finally the major turned to Sonia, flicking a quick salute and ending her misery. “I hear you’ve got our boy learning sign. Good work, Private.”

  He made it sound like she was training a pony to count. She forced a tight smile and wondered if she’d have a moment to speak to the captain about that gun in Johnny’s bathroom.

  MacConnelly extended a hand toward the other man as he spoke to Johnny. “You remember Dr. Dimitrie Zharov. Zharov has been experimenting with the blood you provided.”

  The two regarded each other warily. Sonia could see the tension between them. Was there history here or was Zharov just anxious around an unpredictable werewolf? Sonia understood it but realized she was no longer frightened of Johnny. Now she was frightened for him.

  Johnny shifted from side to side, one arm across his middle as he gripped his opposite elbow. His nerves were understandable after what he’d been through.

  Did the captain notice the horror in Johnny’s eyes or the slow unconscious shaking of his head? She moved closer to him and grabbed his arm at the elbow, giving a little squeeze. He glanced down at her and she felt some of the tension ease from his muscles.

  “We’ve given your blood to several types of animals,” said Zharov. “It killed the rats, mice and rabbits. But the dogs tolerated it.”

  She felt his tension return at the word blood.

  He signed, How?

  She spoke up, interrupting Dr. Zharov. “He asked you, ‘How?’”

  The doctor cast her an annoyed glance then looked to MacConnelly.

  The Captain motioned to her. “Doctor Zharov, Private Sonia Touma is Lam’s translator.”

  Zharov looked down his nose at her and Johnny’s arm went tense under her fingers.

  “Please answer Sergeant Lam’s question,” said the captain.

  “How what? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  She turned to Johnny. He signed his question and she relayed it to Zharov. “He asks how his blood was given to them.”

  “Oh, well, by subcutaneous injection. The dogs changed immediately into a version of were...uh...species. You will see here.” He walked to a panel of buttons, laid out like a telephone keypad and he pressed number ni
ne. A perfectly adorable dog with short wiry white hair and deep brown eyes greeted them with a stretch that looked like a bow.

  “This is subject number nine. It will receive the newest variation of the strain today. He should have had it earlier but I was instructed to wait for you.”

  And he didn’t sound at all happy about that, thought Sonia.

  The doctor turned to the panel and paused, finger poised above number eight. Sonia felt her stomach tighten in dread as she realized what was behind that next door.

  “This subject received the last serum one week ago.” The eighth small door slid open and Zharov stepped back. The creature inside leaped to its feet and began growling and throwing itself against the cage in a futile attempt to reach them. There were teeth marks on the steel, like punctures in soft wood. Sonia’s mouth dropped open. The jaws where enormous and they snapped like a bear trap. The yellow eyes were familiar and the clawed front feet looked a lot like Johnny’s. But there would be no mistaking it for anything but a were-creature. It spun in circles, biting the bars, vainly attempting to set its teeth into something, anything. It seemed mad.

  Johnny signed, Crazy.

  “Yes, I thought the same thing,” she whispered and then raised her voice for the others. “He says it seems crazy.”

  Zharov answered, “Yes. They are all like that. Abnormal brain pattern. They attack anything they can reach. So I’m to show you the derivative of your blood that I’ve isolated. I’ve made two serums that show some promise.” He pressed the second button revealing the next cage. Inside sat a mutt with a black muzzle and sandy fur. He trembled as he looked out at them with sad and hopeful eyes. “This is number seven. Received the first serum strain three weeks ago and I will be injecting number eight with the second serum, returning it to its original form. And I’ll be using the first serum on number nine to create a were-dog. So, a very busy day.”