“I know the feeling.”
We reached the end of the line. I lifted my tray and glanced up at him. “You didn’t ask me to come after you.”
Kyle held my gaze for a handful of heartbeats and then shrugged. “But you’re still here.”
Before I could respond, he headed for an empty table at the far end of the room.
My sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor and I could feel curious eyes on me as I crossed the cafeteria. Eve sat at a table with a bunch of kids I dimly recognized from last night. At orientation, we’d been told that packs were banned in the camp—like Thornhill was a big, happy family or one of those colleges that outlawed sororities—but it looked like the Eumon wolves were intending to stick together.
I slid into a seat across from Kyle and halfheartedly pushed my food around with my fork. “The program coordinator didn’t seem big on answering questions,” I said, stating the obvious.
“None of the staff are.” A boy with a blond crew cut was suddenly towering over my right shoulder. “Cool if I sit?” Without waiting for a reply, he set his tray—and himself—next to me.
Kyle made introductions. “Mac, this is Dex. He’s in my dorm.”
The boy turned his head and I bit back a gasp.
He had the kind of rugged jaw you saw in shaving commercials and wide-set brown eyes that a girl could lose herself in, but his right cheek was covered in a network of intricate white scars. It looked like someone had carved symbols into his flesh with a scalpel.
“Freakish, isn’t it?”
“Umm . . .” I had seen some horrible scars before—Kyle’s back, Ben’s chest—but never anything like this. They had the pull of a car wreck on the side of the highway: I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t look away. “Are those . . . letters?”
“I think so.” Dex rubbed his cheek with a hand big enough to palm a basketball. “But don’t ask me what language it is or what it says. A werewolf decided to use my face as a Post-it after I broke into his car.”
“What . . .” I swallowed. “What happened to the wolf who did it?” There were other questions I wanted to ask—things like Were you conscious?—but I figured I was better off not knowing the answers.
“Curtis dealt with it.” Eve slid into the seat next to Kyle and snagged a piece of toast from his plate. I had been so focused on Dex’s scars that I hadn’t noticed her arrival until she sat. “The wolf wasn’t one of ours, but the Denver packs have an agreement not to draw attention to ourselves.”
“And my face is pretty high profile.” Eve started to object, but Dex swept her words aside. “It’s not like I haven’t seen a mirror, Evelyn.”
She shook her head and a smile flashed across her face. “Damn, it’s good to see you. I think I even missed you calling me that.”
Dex pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t tell me you were actually worried about me.”
“Kinda. But tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He sobered. “I heard the club got raided.”
“Raided and torched.” Eve dropped the toast back onto Kyle’s plate, her appetite apparently lost. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she asked as though trying to distract herself from the memory of last night.
A pained look crossed Dex’s face, twisting the shape of his scars. “Don’t know.”
Eve stared. “What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone said you got picked up during the same raid.”
“We did. Six weeks ago, Corry and I arrived together. After we were here a few days, two guards showed up and took her out of class. They said they had some questions for her.”
A prickly feeling crept down my neck. It was what the woman had said last night before they had taken Serena—that they had questions for her. Kyle reached under the table and skimmed my knee with his fingertips, a quick, comforting touch.
A guard walked by. Dex waited for him to move out of earshot before continuing. “Corry didn’t come back. When she didn’t show up at dinner, I went to her dorm. Her bunk was completely stripped. I kept asking where she was—asked so much I got tased. Finally, they told me she had gotten violent and was transferred.”
Eve frowned. “Corry’s never struck me as someone who has a lot of self-control issues.”
“She doesn’t. She has more control than any wolf I’ve met.” Dex’s words were fierce and sharp. They cut through the air, and I realized the noise around us had died down. I glanced at the next table. All conversation had ceased. The wolves were staring at their trays, but they were obviously hanging on every word.
“There are things you don’t ask about here,” continued Dex as he ran a hand over the numbers on his wrist cuff. “Classes. Work details. Disappearances. Especially disappearances.”
“Next, he’ll be telling them about Willowgrove,” muttered a voice at the other table, just loud enough to carry.
The words were accompanied by a scattered chorus of nervous laughter.
A faint blush darkened Dex’s cheeks, but when he spoke, his voice was low and angry rather than embarrassed. “They think I’m crazy. They’d rather pretend this place actually cares about rehabilitating us than admit something strange is going on.”
“Why?” I asked. “What’s Willowgrove?”
“A Thornhill urban legend. The bogeyman for werewolf boys and girls.” Dex shrugged. “People say it’s a secret camp—one so bad they don’t tell anyone about it. If you disappear from Thornhill, that’s where you get sent.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.” Werewolves didn’t have rights and the camps already had horrible reputations. It was hard to imagine one so bad the LSRB would keep it secret.
“No,” agreed Dex, staring at me levelly, “it doesn’t.”
Kyle leaned forward. “So what do you think it is?”
“A fictional camp to balance the books or a lie to tell the wolves they nab so they’ll go more quietly.” Dex’s eyes darkened. “Do you know why prisons let inmates out early for good behavior?”
“As an incentive,” said Kyle with a shrug.
“To save money and free up beds,” I corrected softly. I shot a quick glance at him, wondering what it would have been like to grow up in a house where conversations didn’t regularly start with some variation of “If-slash-when I go to prison.”
“Every wolf they pick up is a lifer,” said Dex. “You and I? We represent sixty years of taxpayer dollars going down the drain, and I’m guessing budgets at the camps are already stretched thin. Sooner or later, they’re going to need a way to keep the population in check. Sinclair is just doing it sooner.”
Eve cleared her throat. When she spoke, her tone had a razor edge. “What, exactly, are you saying?”
“I’m saying Willowgrove is the ultimate solution. Kill a few wolves here and there and no one gets suspicious. Do it often enough, and eventually the whole overcrowding thing sorts itself out.”
The silence at the other table had spread. Every wolf in the dining hall seemed to be listening, and guards were starting to notice the change in atmosphere—notice and pinpoint our table as the epicenter.
Dex pushed himself to his feet. His gaze locked on me. “Kyle said they took your friend during admissions?”
Throat dry, I nodded.
“If she’s still alive, she’s probably in the sanatorium.”
The words still alive hit me like a slap. I struggled to find my voice. “Sanatorium?”
“The big building near the courtyard. It used to be a hospital for tuberculosis patients. It’s off-limits to wolves unless you’re dying or sent to the detention block.”
Two guards headed our way, and the look Dex shot them was enough that one of the men unsnapped his holster and placed his hand on the butt of his Taser.
Eyes on the guards but still speaking to me, Dex said, “In the whole camp—unless you count the gate and the fence—that’s one of only two places they really don’t want you to go.”
“What’s
the other?”
But he was already walking away, guards trailing him until he left the building.
I rose from my seat, intent on following and getting an answer, but before I could, an amplified voice boomed through the air with a crackle of static. “All new wolves scheduled for self-control class proceed to the lawn in front of the dining hall.”
11
SIXTEEN OF US, INCLUDING EVE, FOLLOWED LANGLEY down paths and across lawns. We left the buildings behind and passed a fenced-off area that was completely empty and almost the size of a football field. A sign posted near the path read Authorized Shifting Zone.
During orientation, we’d been given rules about shifting. It was only allowed in two areas: the shifting zone and the self-control class. Thornhill had a zero-tolerance policy for wolves who transformed anywhere else.
“Glorified dog park,” muttered Eve, earning her a small smile from Kyle.
I felt a tiny flash of jealousy. I hadn’t seen that smile very many times since he had become infected.
“Why let anyone shift at all?” I wondered softly, glancing over my shoulder for one last look at the field.
A few wolves shot curious glances my way, but Kyle quickly covered for me. “You haven’t been infected long. Even wolves with really strong control have to shift sometimes. Otherwise, they risk losing their temper and blowing up.”
“And taking a swipe at whoever happens to be in the way,” added Eve. Something dark passed over her face and I wondered, suddenly, how she had become infected.
We skirted the edge of a wooded area until we reached another field.
It should have been beautiful. The grass was a green so bright it was practically Technicolor and wildflowers dotted it like exclamation marks. It was the kind of spot you saw in perfume ads or Disney movies—except for the cage.
It sat in the middle of the field like a fly trapped in honey, and the sight of it sent goose bumps racing down my arms. It was almost the size of my apartment back home and fully enclosed. The only way in or out was through a small door made of thick wire.
Langley unlatched the door and turned to face us. “Part of self-control is learning to resist external stimuli and suppress your wolf. Those of you who can demonstrate restraint this morning may receive special privileges. Those of you who can’t . . .” She let the words trail off ominously as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small red object. A pocketknife.
She slid open the blade as her gaze swept the wolves. Her eyes lingered on me. “You were full of questions this morning. Roll up your sleeve.”
I felt, more than saw, Kyle go completely rigid. My gaze darted from Langley to the knife in her hand. She couldn’t be serious.
“Your sleeve. Unless you’d like to explain to the coordinators why you refused to participate in class.”
Heart thudding, I reached for my sleeve.
Kyle caught my hand.
Langley’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?”
“Of course there is. Everyone’s frightened and exhausted and you just pulled a knife.”
I turned.
Eve rocked back on her heels. Everyone else looked alert and on edge, but her face was a mask of boredom. Only her eyes—sharp and calculating—hinted that she was just as tense as the rest of us. She cracked each knuckle in her right hand and then yawned.
“Congratulations,” snapped Langley, “you just volunteered to take her place. Arm out.”
Eve stepped forward without hesitation.
I stared, stunned. She had provoked the counselor so I wouldn’t be hurt.
Why? I thought, confused, as Eve rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm. We weren’t friends. She didn’t owe me anything. I couldn’t understand her motivation, and that made the idea of her taking my place even more unsettling.
Langley singled out eight wolves, including Kyle, and ordered them into the cage. Once they were inside, she turned to me and held out the knife.
She had to be joking.
“Take it.”
I shook my head. No way.
Langley’s gaze shifted to the cage and hovered meaningfully over Kyle. Sweat beaded on my forehead. She could try to have him sent to another camp—or worse—just to punish me for defying her. And she would. The expression on her face didn’t leave room for doubt.
Kyle gave a small, barely perceptible shake of his head. He slipped his fingers through the links of the cage, gripping the wires so tightly that I worried he’d slice his skin.
“Do it,” said Eve.
I glanced at her and her eyes locked on mine, almost like a challenge.
I licked my lips nervously and reached out to take the knife. It was heavier than it should have been and the handle was oddly cold in my hand.
I wondered how Langley could be crazy enough to give a prisoner a weapon, then realized how stupid the thought was: wolves carried knives under their skin 24-7. Just because they weren’t supposed to shift outside of this class and the zone didn’t mean they wouldn’t.
“Make an incision and then follow her into the cage.”
Eve’s eyes widened, and something that looked like worry crossed her face. She hadn’t counted on this, I realized. She hadn’t expected me to follow her in.
She shook her head. “This isn’t a fair test. Everyone is running on empty. You put a bleeding wolf in there and most of us will shift just because our minds and bodies are overloaded.”
Langley’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line as she regarded Eve. “If you’d rather not participate, I’m sure a spot can be found for you at Van Horne.”
Still, Eve hesitated. She lowered her arm.
I couldn’t let her get herself into that much trouble. Not to protect me. Stomach plummeting and heart rate skyrocketing, I slashed out with the blade.
It slid through Eve’s pale skin as though she were made of paper.
But paper didn’t bleed.
Blood welled to the surface of her arm and an answering wave of acid rushed up my throat. The pocketknife slipped from my hand and fell to the ground. It made a muffled thump as it hit the grass.
Eve walked quickly to the cage, swearing under her breath and holding her arm away from herself. Kyle tried to block the entrance, but she shoved him. I had just enough time to slip inside while she hissed at Kyle that it was my choice.
Langley slammed and locked the door.
Eyes a firestorm, Kyle stepped around Eve and reached for me. He tried to keep his body between me and the other wolves as we backed toward the far end of the cage.
Langley addressed the other half of the class, the wolves outside the cage. “People don’t like to admit it, but many werewolves—not just those with bloodlust—find it difficult not to shift in the presence of blood. And, of course, the temptation to shift when wounded or when another wolf loses control is incredibly strong.”
Blood ran down Eve’s skin and dripped onto the grass. I watched, horrified and fascinated, as she sucked in deep, ragged breaths and folded to her knees. Her spine bowed with a sound like river ice snapping during a thaw and then her body tore itself to pieces. When it was over, a silver wolf climbed to its feet.
Three, then five, then six of the wolves lost control and shifted. One had white fur, and the reminder of Ben sent my heart hammering against my breast bone and stole the air from my lungs.
My shoulder blades hit the wall of the cage and I flinched.
One wolf took a swipe at another and the result was like a match thrown onto a pile of gas-soaked rags.
Teeth gnashed and blood flowed as other wolves got pulled into the fray. It was hard to believe the creatures in front of me had been human just moments before. They were like true animals—animals who had more in common with Ben than with Kyle or Serena.
No. No. No. No. The single word echoed in my head and only when it drew the attention of the white wolf did I realize I was mumbling it aloud.
Kyle stayed in front of me. His presence should have been reassuring,
but his sleeves were rolled up and I could see the muscles twitch and writhe under his skin. The white wolf padded toward us and Kyle let out a low, dangerous growl—the kind of growl a human throat shouldn’t be capable of.
The wolf continued its advance, and Kyle kicked out so hard that I heard a sickening crack as his foot connected with the wolf’s skull.
Only one other person in the cage, a boy who looked younger than everyone else, hadn’t shifted. “I’m. Not. Going. To. Change . . . ,” he panted, curling his hands into fists as the bones tried to snap.
Suddenly, he clamped his hands to his head and fell to the ground. In front of me, Kyle did the same. All of the wolves—inside the cage and out—collapsed. The ones who had retained human shape covered their ears and the ones who had lost control shifted back.
It was just like what had happened when they took Serena.
I covered my own ears and crouched next to Kyle. I tried to look helpless and in pain—not much of a stretch given how scared I was—as I watched Langley from beneath my lashes. She held a small black device in her hand that was about the size and shape of a remote car starter. After a minute, she slipped it into her pocket and the wolves began to come to.
Langley’s voice swelled over the class. “Guards have Tasers and guns. Counselors have HFDs: high-frequency devices. Fall out of line and a counselor will use an HFD. Get too close to the fence or a restricted zone and an HFD will automatically be triggered.”
There was a hint of excitement in her voice, and I had the sickening suspicion that she had enjoyed hurting us, that we were little more than animals to her.
Kyle shakily lifted himself to a sitting position as around us, people grabbed the shredded remains of clothing, desperately trying to cover their nudity.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah. I think so.” His voice was raw as he stood and reached down to help me up. “You?”
I hesitated, then nodded. I couldn’t tell him that seeing that many wolves shift had scared me almost as badly as the LSRB and the Trackers said I should be.
Thornhill h-2 Page 9