by Sarah Noffke
“Did you know that people continue to burn fat even after an anaerobic workout has stopped? That’s a good reason to get on the Pilates reformer machine, if you ever needed one,” Kaleb said, slipping one of his random facts into the one-way conversation. Judging by this guy, he was an awful conversationalist.
“Hiya!” Bun Man said, running forward, springing into the air and flipping around, kicking his legs as he did. Another cool trick Kaleb was going to consider learning, although breaking a sweat was out of the question. The guard was just about to launch a punch at Kaleb, who stood in the middle of the road calmly, when he paused time yet again. Frozen, the man’s body was at a forty-five-degree angle, his back flat and his arm extended, fist inches from connecting with Kaleb. This was really too easy. Why learn to fight when the prankster had been gifted the perfect skill? He strolled around the guy, standing at his back, still not wanting to strike the Bun Man. With a firm intention, Kaleb released time and the guy fell forward, stumbling, his target having disappeared. Bun Man stared around, obviously confused by the sudden change.
“Looking for me?” Kaleb said, at his back.
Tensing, the guy turned and regarded Kaleb like he’d just insulted him greatly by vanishing. Kaleb was only getting started, though, and this was proving to be as he suspected, too much fun.
Not even pausing to take a fighting stance, the guy opened his mouth, a low scream falling from it as he barreled forward, frustration covering his face. Kaleb waited until Bun Man, whom he was thinking of renaming Martial Arts, was closer before he stopped time. But this time it didn’t work. The man continued until he rammed both his hands into Kaleb’s shoulders, the surprise attack knocking him to the ground. He stared up at the man whose angry lips matched his eyes and again tried to pause time. But nothing happened. Why? The man appraised Kaleb as though considering whether to attack him while he was lying on the road or wait for him to get up. This didn’t look like a man who fought unfairly. However, Kaleb reminded himself that even with his enhanced werewolf strength and speed, he didn’t know how to fight. And this guy knew how to fight all too well. Once more he tried to pause time and again the intention failed. Bun Man stared at him like his patience was wearing thin and soon he would attack, even a man who was down.
Kris had pulled the older woman all the way through her house and only paused when they came to the front door.
“Oh shit,” she said, almost too loudly when the sight in the middle of the street caught her attention. Kaleb stood casually in front of Haiku, Mika’s director of security. Kaleb looked to be taunting the guy, which seemed a bit typical of the prankster. A moment later, and Kaleb had disappeared and now stood at Haiku’s back. He was using his power to stop time, Kris observed. Maybe that could buy her the time she needed to get Marianne to the SUV. However, just then Haiku rammed hard into Kaleb, knocking him to the ground, where he lay, looking suddenly petrified. Something was wrong. Kaleb was in trouble. Kris had to act. She wasn’t going to allow Haiku to cart him back to Olento Research.
“Kaleb,” Marianne said, with a gasp. Her gloved hand, still holding the shears, popped to her mouth.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” Kris said, plucking the gardening shears from the woman’s hand and racing in the direction of the pair fighting. She turned invisible as she ran, probably giving the older woman a double heart attack. That lady would need serious counseling after watching all of this.
Haiku balled up both his fists, his back leg telegraphing that he was about to attack. Kaleb pushed his hands up behind him, rising to a standing position just as Kris neared, making more noise than she’d like. Haiku peered over his shoulder, but not seeing anything he quickly spun back to Kaleb, who stood at full height. Just when the director of security unfurled another attack in Kaleb’s direction, Kris brought the gardening shears up and thrust them down, straight into Haiku’s back. Flesh met the blade, and split at once from the force she employed to drive it deep. Haiku jolted forward, a wail making his mouth open wide, followed by a choking sound.
Kaleb’s face said everything that Kris couldn’t say. She’d done something grotesque, but she had no choice. Instantly, she became visible and reversed away from the man whose back was now covered in blood. Haiku reached awkwardly for the shears, but simultaneously flinched from the act of doing so. Not able to stomach the sight another second, Kris motioned to Kaleb.
“Come on! Let’s go,” she yelled, running for the SUV.
Rox heard the scream just as she yanked the front door back. The sight that met her wasn’t expected as she watched a man kneel over in the street, gardening shears protruding unnaturally from his upper back. Kaleb stood frozen, staring at the man with a horrified expression. An instant later Kris materialized, yelling to Kaleb, and the pair went fleeing for the vehicle.
Hearing Malcolm knocking his shoulder into the back door, Rox grabbed Marianne’s arm and yanked her forward. The woman felt fragile so Rox tried to only pull her as fast as she thought the older woman could go. She’d been standing on the front step and looking as frozen as her son had been. “Get in!” she yelled to Mrs. Magner as they approached the vehicle, jerking the passenger door open as the other two joined them.
“What happened back there? Why didn’t you tell me that Malcolm was on my tail?” Rox said, speeding the SUV through the streets of Salt Lake City, toward the rendezvous point. She’d already set it up with her FBI contacts that she’d be handing off a person whom they’d take into witness protection. That was the best possible option for Marianne Magner, who couldn’t be housed at the Lucidite Institute, but was unsafe out in the world as long as Mika wanted her dead.
“I made a mistake,” Kaleb said, gnashing on his bottom lip with his teeth.
“What kind of mistake?” Rox said, her adrenaline spiking in her veins.
“I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” Kaleb said and she caught him eye the back, careful to keep his full gaze off his mother, who Rox could see from the rearview mirror was visibly shaking.
She closed her eyes briefly and dropped her head. “Damn it, Kaleb!”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he said again, real agony in his voice.
“Why didn’t you radio though?” Rox asked. “Why were you fighting that guard?”
“You know why,” he said, defeat heavy in his voice. “But something went wrong. I couldn’t use my power a third time.”
“Probably because you’d overused it. Didn’t you think there’d be a limit on it? You sure as hell would have known that if you went through any sort of training,” Rox said, the implication strong in her words.
“Yeah, I screwed up. My mother knows all about how good I am at that,” Kaleb said.
A soft crying filled the compartment, which suddenly felt too small. Kaleb closed his eyes, needing a time-out, and paused time, freezing the SUV speeding down the road. Everyone in the vehicle froze as well. So his skill was back. He’d worried he’d lost it for good. But Rox was probably right and the power needed time to charge back up before being used over and over again.
Kaleb turned to see his mother in the back seat, her hands covering her face, the gardening gloves serving as a makeshift handkerchief. Why had he said that about screwing up, insinuating that she only pointed out what he did wrong? She’d just undergone a trauma and he’d insulted her quickly afterward. Was he turning into a monster? He felt like one right then, staring at the mannequin-like image of his mother. Maybe he’d run out of time or his power hadn’t built back up, but time released without his command, and they continued barreling down the road to the supposed safe house.
“Kaleb, what’s going on?” he heard his mother say into her gloves.
He pulled his gaze away from her, pretending his focus needed to be forward. “Your werewolf protests peeved a really powerful man. The one who made me,” he said, not completely believing he was being this direct with his mother. It felt like a dream.
“Why did you let him do this to you?” she said, th
rough sobs.
Kaleb shook his head. Of course she’d think he signed up for this. That’s what a loser would do. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off.
“Let?!” Kris said, from the backseat. “Your son never had a choice. He was abducted and imprisoned and the last thing he needs is you convicting him of signing up for this experiment.”
Kaleb wanted to smile. Twice Kris had come to his defense that day. He’d have to thank her later.
“You—” Kaleb’s mother said to Kris, from the backseat, her tone stronger now. “You disappeared. What’s wrong with you all? Where are you taking me?”
Refraining from rolling his eyes, Kaleb directed his focus over his shoulder at his mother. “There’s nothing wrong with her, just like there’s nothing wrong with me. We’ve just been altered by an evil man. The exact same one that we just rescued you from. You didn’t believe me, Mother, and now you’re a member of the witness protection program. Congratulations,” Kaleb said, his tone as neutral as he could make it.
“What? But I have plans,” she shrieked, with fear. “I need to get back.”
“You should have thought about that before you went on your campaign,” Kaleb said, and then added, “Thanks for exposing me, Mom. So thoughtful of you.”
“Kaleb, I had to. I knew the devil had done something—”
“Stop!” Kaleb yelled. “Just stop.”
The vehicle went completely silent. All that could be heard was the click of the blinker as Rox turned down a road, slowing the SUV.
“Kaleb?” his mother said, in a small voice behind him.
“What?” He bit on the one word.
“Who are you now? Are you okay?” she said, almost sounding nice, but mostly seeming curious. She probably needed details so she could adequately pray for him.
“I’m fine. I’m an agent for the most powerful organization in the world,” he said, and once he’d properly completed training then that statement would really be true.
Chapter Seven
“The parietal lobe is the main area of the brain that is different in Dream Travelers, versus Middlings. The activity is significantly higher in this area, which increases beta frequencies, producing lucid dreaming.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
Without the comfort of his family, there were few thrills for Derek presently. He longed for Sunday lunches with his parents, long discussions with his cousins in front of the fire, or even the coziness that came from typing out the stories in his head.
Still, the changes he’d undergone hadn’t been entirely bad. Yes, he shifted into a werewolf every week and panted through the streets of Seattle. The other night he’d stalked a man on his way home carrying a bag of groceries. Derek told himself that it was the salami in the bag that had kept his attention. He could smell it from halfway down the block. However, Derek knew the truth. It was the man. His smell overwhelmed the salty Italian sausage. The guy inside the werewolf was never more grateful than when the stranger turned and entered a door that locked directly behind him. The werewolf could have knocked the door down. He could have scaled the building, but why do that when a hotdog vendor had stepped away from his cart, leaving a hundred dogs hot and ready to be eaten on the sidewalk. It only took the werewolf a minute and a half to tear though the meat, leaving a damaged cart behind for the vendor to find when he returned a moment later. However, the werewolf was long gone by then, and Derek was glad that he’d managed to satisfy the wolf again without hurting someone.
Derek combed over this memory in his mind as he passed the electronics section in the store where he’d been browsing. He wasn’t planning on buying anything because in truth he had no money. Everything he made went to pay for his room and food. However, browsing stores like this was his rare comfort nowadays. He passed the row of flat-screen televisions, making each flip to a different station as he passed. Once at the end of the row, he blinked and all of the televisions turned off. The clerk spun around at the cashier’s station.
“Oh, not again!” the guy said, rushing over to the rack of flat-screens.
Derek released a small smile and turned for the tablets, lined up on a counter where customers could test the devices. Yes, the best part of becoming a werewolf had been the gift that went along with it. Although it didn’t make sense that a beast that hungered for flesh could control electronics, that’s exactly what Derek had been able to do since escaping the lab. Technopath. That’s what the Internet had called it when he’d looked it up on the library computer.
Chapter Eight
“Dream Travelers can go to any place and time. However, they must know the location of the place. They can’t simply intend to go to a location of a person or a thing. They must know of this exact location, although the ley lines will deliver their consciousness without them knowing the specific coordinates.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
“How long until we see results?” Zephyr said, extending his arm and flexing it, bringing his veins into view.
Aiden flicked his finger at the syringe. “The results could be immediate, although I doubt that. Most likely it will take a few doses of the drug for us to see anything measurable, if there’s any results at all,” the scientist said.
“Right. Trial and error. I get it,” Zephyr said, watching as Aiden swabbed a cotton ball dipped in alcohol across his arm.
“This is probably going to burn. The formula in this compound has been known to have those effects,” Aiden said.
“I was mutated into a werewolf. I think I can take some burning,” Zephyr said, his memory filling with images of Olento Research, before he knew it was called that. He’d clenched down on his tongue, trying not to allow a noise from his mouth when they cut into him, doing unspeakable things to him as he fought the restraints. He knew then that showing his pain would do him no favors. Maybe in his drugged brain he thought that would give the scientists what they wanted. He’d been tortured and interrogated before. And Zephyr knew how to hold it in tight, not letting the enemy see that they’d gotten to him.
“Right. I can’t even imagine,” Aiden said, shaking his head, sympathy deeply written into his features. He was the opposite of the scientists whom Mika had turn him into a werewolf. Aiden could never do anything like that, change a person without their consent. One key difference between the Lucidites and Olento Research. “It’s just that this drug affects the nervous system, so I’m going to ask that you lie down directly after being injected.”
“Why?” Zephyr said, eyeing the clean, white cot he’d noticed in the corner. He’d wondered what that was for.
“Because you might lose control of your limbs. I think it would be safer if you’re already lying down when the drug takes over. New territory, so remember that I can’t make firm statements here. This is all guesswork, since you’re the first to go through this study,” Aiden said.
“Yeah, fine,” Zephyr said, nodding. As long as one of his men didn’t have to be the test rat, he’d go through whatever needed to be done to find a solution. However, he knew in the far recesses of his mind that this drug could kill him. Anything could happen. And that’s why he’d signed up for it after all.
“Are you ready?” Aiden said, holding the syringe.
Staring down at his forearm, Zephyr nodded. It was time to make a truce with the wolf. They could coexist, he firmly believed. “Yes, in the name of science, let’s do this,” he said, making a silent prayer.
Chapter Nine
“Time travel is possible during dream traveling; however, traveling into the future is prohibited by Lucidite law. Traveling into the past should be limited to only a decade or two, as it is incredibly taxing. It is illegal to time travel and interact with a past self. Doing this creates a schism in one’s consciousness.”
- Dream Traveler Codex
Haiku’s face was mashed into the white pillow, his eyes looking close to shutting. Mika had been patient enough to wait until the doctors finished his surgery and announ
ced him stable before questioning his director of security. The only positive that had come out of this was that Malcolm had proven to be loyal and completely controlled by the brainwashing. He’d been the one to call for backup after finding Haiku stabbed in the middle of the street.
Mika kept underestimating the Lucidites and it was causing him more problems. He hadn’t thought that abducting one woman would take more than a single werewolf and Haiku, which was why more security wasn’t assigned to the case. Next time he’d send an entire fleet.
“Now tell me, who stabbed you in the back?” Mika asked Haiku. He’d already questioned Malcolm, only to find out that Rox had withstood being knocked across the head with a shovel. The girl obviously had skin and pain resistance. However, that wasn’t going to help her based on what he had planned for the FBI agent.
“I don’t know. When I turned around, there was no one there,” Haiku said, his words slurring from the pain medicine they’d given him. Mika had told them to back off on the drugs, knowing he needed Haiku as lucid as possible, but they’d obviously not listened to him.
“What do you mean there was no one there?” Mika asked. “Malcolm said you were in the middle of an empty street.”