He pointed the wand at Clive.
Chapter 20
Tina sat behind her desk, while Karen Beauchamp and Will occupied the visitor’s chairs across from her. Both of them sported dark circles under their eyes, but they sat with an air of exhausted relief that matched Tina's. There had been no new cases in three days, and the sick ones were getting better, thanks to Shandari's proposed treatment.
“Dr. Beauchamp credits you with pointing her toward the solution.” Dr. Grayson’s voice echoed from the speaker phone.
“It was just a wild thought I had,” Tina lied. She couldn’t very well tell them where the idea actually originated. “Karen's the one who saw the possibilities in it, and she and her team brought it to life. I'm just glad it worked.” And I'm glad they didn't ask me too many questions about how I thought of it.
“We all are,” Dr. Grayson said. “I have to warn you that when we find a doctor who can get to the heart of a case like that, we tend to snatch them up. Any plans to move to Atlanta in your future?”
Tina joined in the laughter his question provoked, but shook her head in Karen’s direction. “Sorry. I'm hooked on Green Roads.”
“I don't give up easily,” Dr. Grayson said. “But I'll give you a break for now. If you've got things under control there, I'll call my team back.”
Karen nodded as she answered. “They don't need us anymore, Doctor. We're starting to take hikes in the forest.”
Dr. Grayson laughed. “Can't have that. Y'all pack up and come home. I think I can find something for you to do. Dr. Cassidy, Dr. Summerlin, I want to thank you both for your cooperation and assistance. Dr. Beauchamp's reports have been full of praise. Your work made it possible for us to do our job efficiently. That means saving more lives.”
“Lives of people we know and love,” Will said, and Tina knew it was more than his own son he was thinking about. “We will always be grateful for your help.”
“Always glad for happy endings. We'll get out of your hair and let you have your town back. My assistant will be in touch to coordinate follow-up reports for the next year or so, but otherwise, this case is officially closed. Good day, all.”
Karen Beauchamp glanced at her watch as she stood. “We're heading out this afternoon. Just need to finish packing.” She held out a hand to Tina. “Good luck with everything. I'll be in touch.”
Tina shook her hand and walked her to the front door. Will left a few minutes later, and Tina turned to Sharon, who was sitting behind the counter. “Were you able to clear my calendar?”
“You have the afternoon free, Doc.” She clicked her mouse victoriously, shutting down her computer. “I am going shopping. In Portland. Away from Green Roads. I may stay overnight with my sister, unless you need me early?” She slipped on her coat as she turned to Tina with raised brows.
Tina noticed the shadows under Sharon's eyes. Her skin was pallid, and the wrinkles on her cheeks seemed deeper. She'd been working nonstop since the plague started.
Tina placed Sharon's hat on her head and patted her cheeks with gentle fingers. “Take tomorrow off. Stay in Portland all weekend if you want. I wish I could give you a week off. You need to rest.”
Sharon answered with a bright smile. “You're sure? A three-day weekend will do wonders.”
“Go.” Tina gave her a gentle push toward the door. “Tomorrow's a light day. I can manage. Drive carefully.”
Tina stood on the office porch and waved as Sharon's car vanished around the corner. She dropped her hand when she glimpsed the moon, visible in the afternoon sky. It looked full already, and Kasia's words came back to her: “The moon reaches full at a particular point in time. But werewolves all react individually to it. They change over a range of a few hours before full moon. The change is magical, and the Flatlands hinder magic. So the werewolf in your forest may change later than usual. But we have no idea when that will be.”
Tina glanced at the forest surrounding her office and home, then answered the panic rising within her and jumped for the door, pushing it shut with her body. She leaned back against it, staring with unseeing eyes at Sharon's immaculate counter. Her thumb trailed circles upon her stomach, and she frowned as she concentrated on the tiny fetus within. “You stay put,” she murmured. “No monkey business tonight, all right?”
She might have felt an answering flutter, but knew it was her imagination. It was still too soon for that. With a final check of the closed door, she made her way to the laboratory to set up for the afternoon's experiment.
~~
Damien scrambled up another hill, stopping to retch into a batch of thimbleberry plants. Spitting a final time, he sank to the ground against a pine tree. The change had been painful last month. This time it was approaching agony. He wasn't even changing yet, and he already felt like shit.
It wasn't his plan to be stuck in the Flatlands, but that damn Keeper had sensed his presence before he could get the ward in place. Then Portal Enforcement over-reacted by slamming that indictment down.
Well, he'd just have to break the indictment. Or figure out how to move his ward. It was large, requiring an anchor, which is why he'd woven it around the cove near the portal. But there might be a way to reduce it, make it portable. If he could carry it on him, his true nature would be invisible to everyone who saw him, wherever he went.
It would require a great deal of power, and power required sacrifice. Perhaps he could obtain enough power by torturing and killing a few cows. If that wasn't enough, there were plenty of humans scattered around this wilderness. Indirect killings, as he'd done with the three boys, couldn't provide enough. But a hands-on kill, like he’d done with the Keeper—that would work. His blood still sang from that murder.
Tina Cassidy held great promise. He didn't know what allowed her to grow a werewolf's spawn without harm to either of them, but he'd find out.
Damien smiled. He'd make her power his. It would be such pleasure to have her helpless, to use her body. He'd have to find a place where he could keep her alive for a long time. And when her spawn was born, he'd have to see what it was, what kind of power it had. The spawn could be useful, too.
Damien stood, groaning as his legs struggled to support him. He had sensed the presence of Portal Enforcement agents around Green Roads. His ward kept his true nature hidden from them, and as long as he was in human form, they wouldn't notice him. If they saw him as a wolf, they’d know. He had to get farther away.
~~
Clive clung to the cage floor as he tried to inch away from the wand. There was nowhere to go, but instinct made him try. He'd learned not to touch the bars, for as soon as he did, Grimman would pour heat into them, sending them soaring to scorching temperatures. Clive had long since burst the blisters on his hands as he scrambled on the floor. His nails ripped as he scratched the metal, smearing the floor with blood.
The goblins stood around the cage, shrieking with glee at every blast from the wand. Grimman no longer laughed with them, and Clive hoped that meant he was getting tired. It took a lot of energy to power a wand, and Grimman had been at it for—oh, fuck-a-pixie. Clive had no idea how long, but it was long enough for the change to be near. Grimman's torture superseded the pain of changing, but Clive could tell his bones were loosening, his insides rearranging. How much longer before he was a wolf? Would they continue the torture?
He didn’t think so. They wouldn't want the pelt damaged. The kill would be clean.
Grimman pointed the wand again and pain stabbed Clive's liver. He was too weak to scream, but a long moan escaped him as he doubled over, clutching his gut. Spasms jerked his body, throwing him against the hot bars, and for an agonizing moment, he couldn't move away. He smelled his flesh cooking. With a superhuman lunge, he tore himself from the bars, falling forward a blessed few inches. The laughter of the goblins washed over him.
He rested on the floor, his breath coming in ragged sobs as he waited for the next stab of pain. A hazy distance away, the voices of the goblins offered suggestio
ns for further torture. Something stabbed his palm and Clive realized an object had appeared there. He didn't have the strength to look, but his hazy mind found a name for it: his strap. Grimman had stolen it earlier, but it had returned to its owner.
In quiet relief, Clive curled his burned hand around it, searching with his thumb for the pattern that would unlock a weapon. He had to hurry before another attack distracted him. He didn't dare drop the strap.
A slight vibration told him it was ready. He heard the chatter of the goblins, heard Grimman's voice replying, and sensed the wand pointing at him once again. His thumb danced a two-step pattern on the strap, slipping in the blood. No. Be careful, he told himself. Do it right.
He moved his thumb again, repeating the pattern, concentrating on tapping the correct spots. There.
Clive was close enough to the change that his ears picked up a faint echo of the high-pitched whine the strap emitted. Closer and more immediate were the screams of the goblins. Clive allowed himself a smile that vanished in a haze of pain as he forced himself to sit up. His tormenters writhed on the ground outside the cage, hands held as futile shields over their ears. In a few moments, they'd be unconscious.
He jumped at the cage, relieved that the bars on this side were still cool. Pressing against them, he stretched an arm through, managing to snag a handful of Grimman's jacket. He pulled, moaning with the effort. He forced his other shaky arm through the bars, using both hands to drag the goblin's body against the cage.
His bones were shifting, and the strap's whine was getting louder. Desperate, he pulled the keys from Grimman's pocket. Dropping the body, he scrambled for the cage door, fumbling against the metal and his own shifting bones and dripping blood, to get the key into the lock.
At last, he stumbled from the cage, dropping the strap and turning a circle of desperation. The goblins would remain unconscious for a while. But they were hunters. He'd never make it to an enclave now, and they'd be after him in no time.
Clive ran for the forest, his gait clumsy and slow. A trail of blood followed him. He tripped, and the yell that escaped him sounded more like a yelp. He ran again, farther. Not far enough. I'll never get far enough.
Five minutes later, he fell again, and stayed down, giving in to the demands of the moon. His shaking form curled into a ball of fur, long nose tucked into burned and bleeding forepaws.
For a time, he rested, licking his sores. Then he raised his snout, sniffing the air. Meat. The moon's rage stirred within him and he howled to her presence. He stood, yelping with pain, and began picking his way across the ground, following the smell. He stopped when he saw the building, but stayed within the protection of the trees. There was no sound, no movement. He smelled goblins. His fur stiffened along his neck as he crept forward, crossing the clearing with slow limps, shaking with rage.
His nose told him part of the story. Blood was drying in the metal box and the odor of singed flesh still hung in the air. Goblins lay on the ground, alive, but not moving.
He growled, uneasy, smelling fear, danger, and hate. He wasn't safe here. But these creatures were food. One of the bodies stirred, rustling against the dirt and leaves. He growled once, and leaped.
Chapter 21
Tina kept pressure on the inside of her elbow, watching as Shandari placed a drop of her blood under the microscope. She had expected to have to explain the microscope and how to draw a blood sample, but Shandari assured her they used similar equipment in Kaarmanesh.
“It's true that I can See into a body, and amplify the components of blood and bone for thorough viewing,” the healer had told Tina, “but what if the patient is not physically present? Healers often consult with each other, and in that case, we need to share samples. I'm quite familiar with obtaining a blood sample.”
Shandari had needed just a brief description of the test tubes for storage of the blood, before nodding and deftly inserting the needle into Tina's arm. She was done before Tina counted to ten, and now Tina waited with a tapping toe for her first glimpse of the werewolf component. The Kaarmaneshians called it a vyra-stribdal. Shandari assured her it was in her blood, a by-product of her baby’s disease. From the front office, Tina heard the murmur of Kasia's voice, as the captain organized a search for the missing werewolf. She commanded a small army of magical beings, most of them invisible to human eyes, and sent them about with quick instructions, some to search the forest, others to remain as guards for the town.
“That's it.” Shandari straightened and stepped away from the scope. She waited with folded hands, her eyes acknowledging Tina's reluctance.
Despite the fact she'd been longing for this moment, Tina wasn’t sure she wanted to see it. The click of Kasia's shoes as she paced the front office seemed to echo in the small laboratory. Tina shrugged off her aversion, and stepped up to the microscope.
It was impossible to miss. Outlined in purple, hundreds of the stringy vyra-stribdal floated in her blood sample.
“There is no doubt they are vyra-stribdal,” Shandari said over Tina's shoulder. “But do you see that one end is jagged, while the other is straight?” Tina nodded, unable to take her eyes from the microscope.
“In normal vyra-stribdal, both ends are jagged. During the full moon, the ends meet up with each other to form colonies. This precipitates the Change. I suspect your fetus started with normal vyra-stribdal, but your body has produced a defense against them. In addition to the straight end, the jagged end of your vyra-stribdal is asymmetrical. The ends no longer match with each other, and cannot join at all.”
A catch in Shandari's voice made Tina glance up. Shandari was staring at her.
“Do you understand what this means?” the healer whispered.
Tina sat back, taking a deep breath that she was unable to release for a moment. When she did, she stood with the force of it. “You think it's a cure.”
“I think it can point the way to one,” Shandari said. “I don't understand it yet. But if you are willing, we can study it.”
“Study me. Study my baby.”
“Yes.”
Tina turned away, but stopped when her glance fell on the microscope. She pointed at the slide. “Did these vyra-stribdal come from the fetus? Or from Clive Winslow?”
“Are you asking if they are transmitted sexually?” Shandari shook her head. “No, the werewolf disease is only transmitted through a bite when the were is in wolf form. Even if Clive bit you, it would not infect you if he was in human form.”
“Yet I'm infected.”
“Not precisely. The vyra-stribdal in your blood are from the fetus. They are not reproducing in your body, just his. Your body is producing the antivyra-stribdal, which in turn are infecting the fetus, and keeping him from Changing.”
Tina stared at the ceiling, thinking of the full moon hidden behind the clouds. “His vyra-stribdal are not joining together? None of them? Will you look again?”
Shandari’s eyes sparked into Seeing mode and she gazed into Tina's womb. She smiled as her eyes returned to normal. “None of them. They are more active than usual, but are unable to fit with each other. It is really amazing to See.”
“What if a few are able to join? What will happen?”
Shandari shook her head. “Again, I don't know, Tina. There has never been a case of a partial Change occurring. The Change happens very quickly once it starts—a matter of minutes. The changes begin internally as the vyra-stribdal affect nearby tissues. If your fetus should experience a partial Change…,” She pursed her lips as she paused to think it through. Tina waited, her own thoughts too disturbing to pursue.
Shandari shook her head again. “A small change might be reversible. But I don’t know how much is too much. This is all new ground for us.”
“He could die,” Tina said, her hand on her stomach.
“You know I would do everything in my power to save him,” Shandari said softly. “But yes. Until we know more, every full moon is a grave danger for your baby.
Chapter 2
2
Clive floated on soft warmth, his mind resting in an oblivious innocence. He felt time pass in dreamy darkness, and turned further in, longing to remain. When light probed at the edges of his dream, he resisted, wanting to stay hidden from pain. But it was no good—the light brightened, drawing his mind upward to conscious thought and awareness. His body buzzed with the remembrance of intense pain and fear. He kept his eyes closed, and evaluated his circumstances.
He lay on something soft. A bed. A blanket covered him, its warmth pressing gently against his skin. A clean smell of astringent accompanied his breath, and he became aware of a hand holding his on top of the blanket. In the last moments of waking, he found himself wishing it was Tina’s hand. He wished he would see her when he opened his eyes.
He was disappointed, but not surprised, to see Shandari instead. A light reflected off her dark skin as she squeezed his hand and smiled. He tried to respond, but instead just closed his eyes again, his mind drifting.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Shandari said, her soft voice drawing him back. This time he was able to keep his eyes open. Her fingers rested on his arm, where his pulse pushed fretful beats against them.
He licked his lips and tried to speak, managing after a gentle cough. “Glad I wasn't the only one who was scared.”
A snort to his left made him turn his head in that direction. Kasia sat on a stool, lips pursed and foot knocking against his bed as she glared at him. “Got in over your head this time, Winslow?”
He swallowed again. “Something like that.” His voice was rough and Shandari held a glass of water for him. He drank, then squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think.
“I was in a cage. Those damn goblins... I got out, but I don't remember how.” He struggled to sit up, stopping with a jerk as pain lanced through his back.
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