“George!”
I rushed over but George backed away, clearly in pain. I glanced at the tank. Stacked inside, completely submerged in liquid, were metal bars. They looked a lot like the Unbinilium I’d just watched Astor react to.
He held his arm against his chest, cradling it and wincing.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
In answer, he uncurled his hand and showed me his fingertips. The pointer and middle finger were red and blistered, like they’d been burned. He blew on them. “Stings like a bitch.”
“Stop touching things, then.” I wanted to feel bad for him but was too distracted by what it all meant. “I get it,” I said, walking over as Astor dropped the rod back into the vat. He adjusted one of the giant dials on the lid and then stood back to eye the rest. “You’re saying I’m immune to metal. But if that’s true, then why did I react when I used it to kill a Werewolf a couple of months ago?”
“Had your wolf side emerged yet?” he asked.
“No,” I said. He gave me a look that said well there you go then. “But it was still in me, right? In my blood?” Astor shook his head. “Then I don’t understand.”
He rolled his eyes. “You can’t expect me to fill you in on a lifetime of research and experimenting in such a short time.”
“Try,” I said.
“The short version is that your father found something in my research, a genetic coding I’d developed that allowed the bearer of such a code to exude the characteristics of a Werewolf without actually becoming one. Somehow, and I don’t know the details as I wasn’t exactly in the loop by then, but somehow, he found a way to do the reverse.” He paused, brows raised as if waiting for me to understand. “Reversing the code sent a present Werewolf gene into dormancy. When you were born, he injected you with a serum made from this code.”
“And that’s why my wolf side is only now showing itself,” I finished.
He beamed like a teacher might at his star pupil. “Right-o.”
“Why now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to make it disappear forever?”
“Sure, and while we’re at it I’ll rope the moon for you,” he snapped. “You think something like this is easy?”
“I bit back my retort and focused. “Why do it at all?”
“It was entirely for your protection. There was another ingredient to the serum, a gene-booster if you will. It’s what gave you your immunity to metals, precious or otherwise.” His words became halting. “No one else in Werewolf history has been able to fight the power of precious metals.” Longing flashed in his eyes, coupled with a sudden and unbearable sadness that vanished so quickly, I thought I’d imagined it.
“You were right,” I said, “My blood is a cocktail.”
Astor blinked, his expression smoothing over. “I’m always right when it comes to science.”
“But why would my dad do this? Was he going to turn me into some sort of super-hybrid? For what? Peace?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm on the last word.
“How should I know?” Astor shrugged, his voice taking on the singsong quality of earlier. “Lunch, lunch, time for lunch.”
Lunch? Already? “Astor, stay with me here,” I said. “I’m not finished.”
“I’m finished. Terminée. Terminado. Afgewerkt.”
“Astor—”
“Tay, let him be.” George came up behind me and slung his arm around my shoulder. “He’s obviously nutso. And he did kill a girl, remember?”
Astor’s eyes flashed and he rounded on George. He straightened to his full height, which was the same as George’s now that he wasn’t slouching, and stared at him. “You know nothing,” he hissed, stabbing his index finger into George’s chest.
George’s eyes flashed, yellow and angry, and I stilled, my muscles tensing. Something about the way he looked at Astor … his eyes were darker, his pupils dilated. I inched forward, ready to land a blow across his other cheek if need be.
Finally, he threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Yes, sir, I know nothing.”
The intensity of Astor’s expression disappeared as quickly as it had come. He leaned away and smoothed his shirt, his eyes vacant. “I’m hungry, who’s hungry?” He dropped the tongs onto the table with a clang.
I scurried forward, unsure what else to do but follow.
“Time to eat. Then time to paint. No more questions,” he continued out into the hallway, turning the words into a song. “Jeeves! Jeeves! Lunch!”
Mathias appeared, from where, though, I couldn’t tell. “Sir, your easel has been prepared in the lounge.”
“Easel?” Astor blinked at him. “Time to paint?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Paint. Then eat.” Astor looked at me. “Paint. Then eat,” he repeated and then left. I caught the sound of him humming as he disappeared around a corner. It sounded strangely like the theme song to The Addams Family. Astor reminded me of one of the characters, Uncle Fester. Strange, guarded, always out of left field.
I stayed where I was, unsure where to go in this giant house without Astor or Professor Flaherty to escort me. Mathias cleared his throat. “Shall I show you to the game room?”
George tugged on my arm and I nodded. “That would be great,” I told him.
Mathias led us to a new doorway and promised to be back to get us for lunch before disappearing. The room was exactly what the name implied, complete with a foosball table, three different game consoles, surround sound speakers for the big screen, and a pool table. George let out a whoop and picked up a controller to the game console. I fell onto the couch with a look of longing directed at the pool table. My lids felt heavy after the last few nights of broken sleep. Even the revelation about my dormant wolf couldn’t keep me awake. The last noise I heard was the revving of George’s racecar as he beat the first level of his game.
George shook me awake. Mathias waited at the door when I stood and stretched.
“Lunch is served in the sunroom. I can show you the way if you like,” Mathias said. His voice and expression were deadpan, as, I was beginning to realize, it always was.
“Do we have to eat with Astor?” George whispered.
I glared at him, but didn’t answer. “Thank you, Mathias. That would be great.”
He dipped his head in a nod and we followed him down the hall. I slowed my pace to put distance between us and Mathias. I kept my voice low.
“I want answers, and he’s the only one who can give them to me. So, yes, we eat with him,” I whispered.
“He doesn’t like me. Maybe I should just sit this one out,” George whispered back.
My brows lifted. “And pass up a meal?”
His mouth curved. “All right, maybe I’ll just keep quiet and sit far away from him.”
Apparently, a nap had been what my brain needed to kick into overdrive. A thousand different questions speared through me as we walked. Why had my dad done this to me? Had he really been trying to protect me by deferring my Werewolf gene? From whom? From where I stood, everything my parents had ever kept from me only came back to bite me in the end. And if this was true then I should’ve been a Werewolf since birth, like Wes. Only, why hadn’t Miles ever shifted? He hadn’t registered as wolf on my radar at all.
Professor Flaherty was already at the table with Astor. They broke off their low conversation as we entered and Professor Flaherty smiled.
“Tara, George, there you are. Come and sit down. This crab dip is amazing,” she said.
George didn’t need to be told twice. He took a seat at the far end of the table and began scooping food onto his plate. Astor’s head was down, like he was fascinated with the crackers and cheese on his plate. I didn’t give a crap about crab dip, but the answers I wanted were trapped inside those who did. I sat.
“It sounds like you had a productive morning,” Professor Flaherty said.
“Very,” I said cautiously. How much did she know? Could I talk to her, instead of trying to break through Astor’s wall of crazy?
“Secrets are the devil!” Abruptly, Astor shoved back from the table and strode out of the room, sputtering about devils and “the sins of the father.”
“Speaking of secrets,” I said, giving her a pointed look.
She sighed. “There are a quite a few stored in that brain of his,” she said. “Go easy on him. He isn’t used to the demands of company.”
I wanted to say he didn’t seem used to the demands of sanity, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t have been well-received.
“I spoke with your mother earlier,” Professor Flaherty said. “Your grandmother will be here this evening.”
“Of course she will,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want them to know, but I couldn’t let them continue to worry.”
“No, I understand. I knew they’d find me eventually. Frankly, I’m surprised it took them this long.”
“She did say something about your ‘little diversion’ and how she’d be speaking to you about that.”
I held back a shudder as I thought about how angry they were all going to be. I had no doubt my time for answers would end as soon as that doorbell rang. I needed to hurry. “Professor, how much do you know about me? I mean, about the stuff Astor told me, the genetic coding in my blood?”
“You mean, do I know if he’s telling the truth?” I nodded. “I do, and he is.”
I slumped back in my chair. I should’ve been happy to finally understand what was going on with me and how to save George, but hearing Astor’s explanation only raised more questions. And the one person who could answer them had died seventeen years ago.
“How about we take a walk?” Professor Flaherty set her napkin aside and stood. “I could use some fresh air.”
I looked down at my plate. It was still empty. My stomach felt like it held rocks. I shot a look at George. “I’ll be here,” he said, the words distorted by a full mouth. He waved at me with his fork. “Go on.” I rose and followed Professor Flaherty out.
Chapter Thirteen
The door opened into the backyard, in the middle of the bright green garden I’d chased George through the night before. It extended along the entire perimeter of the house. Or, more accurately, it was the perimeter, the way it thickened and grew together like a wall at its borders.
We stood on a deck that overlooked descending tiers of greenery and large exotic flowers. The types of plants differed on each tier, getting smaller and smaller closer to the ground. Far below was the desert floor, burnished golden sand that reflected sunlight until your eyes hurt. It stretched for miles until it met the horizon.
“This is beautiful,” I said, inhaling the dry desert air mixed with the pungent sweetness of the plants.
“It’s my favorite place on the property,” she agreed.
We descended the deck stairs that led to a winding path weaving up and down the length of the first tier. Leaves the length of my arms, with droplets of moisture lining their veins, hung over onto the path. The humidity increased as the canopy of plants closed over our heads—a rainforest in the desert.
“Astor says you had no reaction to the Unbinilium,” she said.
“Which apparently makes me immune to metal. So … some sort of all-powerful hybrid?” It came out as more of a question than a statement; frankly, I still wasn’t sure how much to believe.
She smiled wryly. “I see he wasn’t delicate with the details.”
“He just didn’t give any, really. Besides, is he ever? Delicate, I mean?” She caught my eye, letting me know she understood the real question here; this was my way of asking how crazy Astor really was.
“No,” she admitted. “Not really. But he’s better at explaining the science than I am, and I knew seeing his work come to life would make him happy.”
I thought of the jig he’d done when I’d held onto that rod. Professor Flaherty couldn’t be more his opposite, with her calm, cool demeanor, her quiet grace. Even in battle, she carried herself this way, letting what she didn’t say speak louder than what she did. She reminded me of Angela.
“How do you two know each other?” I asked.
“Extractive metallurgy.” I gave her a blank look, and she laughed. “Yes, it’s a mouthful, I know.”
“What does it mean?” I reached out and ran my hand over the petals of a bright orange flower, each one larger than my hand. It felt smooth, like velvet, under my fingertips.
“It’s the study of processes used in separation and concentration of raw materials,” she explained.
“In English?”
“He purifies metal.”
“Is that what those barrels in his lab are for?”
“Yes. The liquids are a mixture he concocted himself. I’m not sure what’s in it, exactly. Several different types of acids, a solvent, a neutralizer.” She looked like she was about to say more, but then stopped at my expression.
“Sorry, I’m sure you’re speaking English, it’s just not my English,” I said.
She smiled. “It wasn’t always mine, either.”
“What made you interested in it?” I asked.
“I wasn’t, not really,” she admitted. She paused and the look she gave let me know whatever was coming was personal for her. “The Cause, the original group, was founded when I was twelve. Back then, I was too young to understand, and they were too small to matter. That changed the summer I turned sixteen. My parents managed to get me an internship with CHAS. I didn’t have a specialty or any specific interest yet and they wanted one for me. I think they hoped I’d either run for office or marry someone who held office.
“Instead, I was given the job of lab assistant. I realized pretty quickly why. Astor was very hard to work for and impossible to please, especially since I had basically no knowledge of chemistry or metallurgy.” My brows creased as my mouth began to form a question. She answered it before I could ask. “Astor was the head of the department for CHAS. The one who oversaw all of the weapons manufacturing, specifically the metals.”
“Astor worked for CHAS?” I said, unable to hide my surprise—and confusion. “How is that possible? I thought they hated Werewolves.”
“What makes you think he’s a Werewolf?” she asked, a single brow raised in challenge.
“Vera said …”
“Yes, she would remember him that way, wouldn’t she?” she said, almost to herself. Then to me, “Astor’s been a little of both for a long time.”
“He’s a hybrid?”
“Not exactly. He’s a … cocktail, shall we say.” I nodded, not quite understanding, especially after hearing him use that word to describe me, but not wanting to interrupt her again. “Anyway, I didn’t know a beaker from a glass jar, and he hated me for it. I almost quit.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I met your father. Oh, it wasn’t like that,” she assured me quickly. “He was nice enough, and handsome, but he and your mother were already an item, and anyway, I was too focused on getting Astor to accept me and making my parents proud than anything else. But the things he said, the peace he believed in and was willing to fight for, stayed with me. The following summer I applied for the same internship, but I found out Astor had left. A new head scientist had been appointed. I realized I didn’t want to work for anyone else, so I withdrew my application without telling my parents, and I tracked him down. When it was time to go, I convinced my parents to let me travel alone and instead of reporting to CHAS headquarters, I spent the summer here.”
She stopped and let out a heavy breath. “Wow, I haven’t told that story in … I can’t remember.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I said, and I meant it. It was the most I’d been told about my father by someone other than my mother in my whole life. I soaked it in. “So, you know about the genetic coding because of your time working for Astor and my dad those two summers?”
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br /> She nodded and her mouth pulled taut at the corners. “I worked here three summers in total, but then … it wasn’t the same anymore after—” She broke off and I hesitated, trying to decide how much to admit to knowing. Not that I knew anything for sure—only what Grandma told me. And Vera.
“You mean when that girl got killed?” I asked softly.
Her gaze swiveled to mine. “You know about Mary Beth?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “I know there was an accident. Astor was held responsible.”
“I met Mary Beth the first summer I worked here at the manor. She was brilliant. She was a few years older than Astor and something of a mentor, I think. They were a perfect match, intellectually. Both of them tested off the IQ charts and each was as scatterbrained as the other when it came to the routine of daily life.” She chuckled. “I cooked more meals and did more laundry than any actual science that summer. Their research was heavy. I didn’t understand most of it. I think that’s why I didn’t try to stop them …”
“Stop them from what?” I asked when she didn’t continue. Her expression was far away, as if she’d returned to the memory she described.
“I remember them coming out of the lab, singing, dancing, yelling all over the place, so excited at what they’d figured out. I heard the words “genetic code” and “metal immunity.” That was about all I understood. They told me to call Jeremiah, your father. When he got here, they called us all into the lab for a demonstration. I watched as they pulled piece after piece of metal out of the leaching liquids with their bare hands and tossed it back and forth. Neither one showed any hint of reaction to any of it.
“Your father was beside himself with excitement. He demanded to know how they’d done it. I demanded it, as well, though I wasn’t sure I’d understand the explanation. It was like a magic trick. I’d never seen anything like it, never dreamt it was possible.
“Astor explained he’d injected Mary Beth with some sort of genetic mutation that allowed the immunity. Back then, it was short-acting. Nothing permanent. But it was a miracle, nonetheless. We tested it over and over for a week, using the purest metals we could find, leaching them until they were completely stripped, raw with power. Then we called CHAS.”
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