He attempted to sit up and hissed sharply as pain lanced through his shoulder. The young man turned to him, concern in his eyes, but John feigned rolling over as if he were still asleep. He didn’t know this man, would not trust him until he figured out what was going on.
He had no recollection of how he got in this bed and only a vague memory of how he’d been injured. Who was this person? Where was he?
His mind raced as his host laid a palm on his forehead. “Fever’s gone,” he murmured. “Get some rest, old timer.”
Memories stirred beneath his closed eyelids. The whelp in the alley. A sensation of moving – no, driving. A quick flash of his daughter’s face hovering above him, but that was it.
The young man had apparently decided he was done messing with him, because his attention turned back to his phone. “Come on, eat the steak like a good boy,” he muttered at the screen. “There. Now take a nice long nap.”
Was he watching some kind of half-assed horror movie, or was he actually watching a whelp? John could scarcely believe it. Was this guy another hunter, one he didn’t know? He thought he was familiar with all the Guildsmen registered in the past thirty years, but his memory wasn’t what it used to be. Still, he didn’t recall any others operating in the area except for Ro and that goddamned fool Kane.
This man must have been a hunter if he knew enough to have given him the treatment, though. Though weak, his mind was clear of fever, a true sign that he had been bypassed by the curse.
He had to think things through. He was weak, a virtual prisoner in this bed, with tubes and crap seeming to stick out of every damn orifice. In his current condition, it wouldn’t do to start a fight with this fella, especially since he looked like he could handle himself. John lay back and allowed himself to relax for the time being. He needed to rest, regroup, and then figure out what his next move would be.
♦ ♦ ♦
Not trusting herself to drive within the speed limit, Ro set the cruise control once she hit the highway. This would have been the worst time to get pulled over – stinking of the blood of two dead wolves. She was tempted to check the messages on her phone, if only to see whether Kane knew about the corpses in the park, but then she thought better of it.
If he was snooping around her apartment, then maybe he suspected she was up to more than just hunting. If so, he’d crossed the line from annoying to straight up stalking her. That in itself wasn’t a worry. If push came to shove, she could shove back a hell of a lot harder than most girls her size.
The problem was Dean. If Kane figured out that she had been collaborating with a wolf, even one who had the ability to save her father’s life, Dean would be as good as dead and she would soon follow. Worst of all, it would be with the Guild’s blessing. Their approach to any hunter suspected of going rogue involved a lot less talking and a lot more killing.
Ro knew Coop had a record, having been busted for drug possession, so his prints would be in the system. Kane might have been an arrogant hot-headed douchebag, but he was a good detective. If Coop hadn’t been careful, and there was no reason to believe he would have had cause to, it was only a matter of time before Kane made the connection. He wasn’t the type to ignore a question such as why the Masons’ bodyguard, who was wanted for questioning with regards to their murders, had been in her apartment.
She tried to come up with a reasonable excuse she could give him. If so, she could contact him casually, pretending to inquire about whether he’d gotten any new leads and then throw him off the scent.
Maybe Coop had fallen off the wagon and had broken into her apartment looking for cash for his next fix. His presence could just be a coincidence. It was a weak cover story given the fact that Ro wasn’t rich by any stretch of the imagination and there were far more likely targets than an emergency room nurse. Besides, a junky would have ransacked her home, left it in much worse condition than he’d found it. No, it was too poor a story. If Kane figured out the connection and somehow tracked them back to the mansion, they were screwed.
However, that last part also might be their salvation. She’d been careful not to use her cell phone outside of city limits, and she’d only used her debit card once to withdraw some cash, but she’d done that near her apartment. Dean had done an admirable job making sure the mansion was off the grid and untraceable to him. Connection made or not, there was a very good chance Kane wouldn’t be able to track her there so long as she continued to be careful.
Kane’s presence in her apartment only served to strengthen the resolve she’d begun formulating the day before, when her father had nearly died. They needed to leave, both for their safety as well as Dean and Coop’s. After all, Dean had enough blood samples to hopefully fuel his research for weeks to come. And with her father on the upswing, she could take him home and care for him there until he regained his strength and, with any luck, before he realized they’d been in the company of a wolf.
She tried to convince herself that the only reason she was interested in saving Dean was so he could figure out a cure for lycanthropy. If he did, then the curse would be lifted for both sides – Lycans would be human again and thus there would be no need for hunters.
Deep down, though, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to her need to help him than that, and the more she tried to convince herself there wasn’t, the less she believed it.
As she sped down the highway, she mused that perhaps the Guild would be right to conclude she’d been compromised in some way.
♦ ♦ ♦
By the time she returned to the mansion, Ro had managed to convince herself that there was still time, that even if Kane made the connection – which he probably would – that the chances of him tracking her back to this location were still slim for the time being.
She realized she could help by being proactive in throwing him off the trail. Once she got her father away from this place, she could meet with Kane and throw out her own red herrings, even if reaching out to him would only serve to encourage him further. He was well versed with interrogation techniques, but she had a hell of a poker face when she needed to.
Besides, he could tail her for as long as he wanted to, but with her back at home and working at the hospital, he wouldn’t learn anything useful except maybe her coffee and bagel preferences.
That was, assuming she could convince Dean and Coop to stay as far away from her as possible. She didn’t think that would be an issue with the latter. Dean, however, had proven himself surprisingly stupid on occasion ... such as blatantly stalking her at work. She had to make sure he got the hint that it would be suicide to contact her again.
All of that could wait for the moment, though. With the moon setting and on the wane for the next half a month, she could get her head on straight again, figure things out in a logical way.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the shower. Coop had already briefed her that her father was okay and Dean was still secure, so she allowed herself the luxury of cleaning up a bit. As she dried off and got dressed, throwing on a comfortable pair of sweat pants and a sweater, she briefly considered strapping her gun to her side – after all, there were still a few hours left in the night – but she decided against it. If her father knew, he would surely have had something to say about that, but she left her weapon behind anyway.
She knocked softly on the bedroom door before entering, not wanting to startle Coop and get tranqed for her trouble. He sat in a chair by her father’s side, reading a book. Both his dart gun and phone were on the nightstand close by. A soft snarling could be heard coming from the speakers of his phone. It seemed risky to leave it on with her father close by, but he appeared to be sound asleep.
“How is he?”
Coop put down his book, some fantasy story about a redneck monster hunter named Bubba. Ro couldn’t help but smirk. She’d have thought he would’ve had enough of the supernatural to last him a lifetime.
“Good,” he replied. “Better
, actually. He was fitful at first, but as the night’s worn on, he’s been settling into a deeper, more natural sleep. I’d venture to say he’s resting quite comfortably now.”
She stepped to her father’s side and looked down at him. He did appear to be sleeping soundly. She risked putting her hand on his forehead and found his temperature to be normal. He grumbled incoherently at her touch and rolled over.
Ro smiled and stepped away, not wishing to disturb him. She turned to Coop, planning to tell him he could take a break, but instead asked, “How’s Dean?”
“Still furry and pretty darned pissed off, by the sound of things. Maybe next month I’ll invest in a few of those Kong chew toys to keep him busy. Seriously, though, it’s been pretty quiet. He gave a go at his chains for a while, but then he got bored and set to work on his dinner. Been mostly pacing since with the occasional howl at the moon.”
“Can you watch my dad for a little while longer? I’m going to go check on him.” The words came out of her mouth before she even realized she was saying them.
“Well, yeah, I guess. I’m happy to keep an eye on things, but are you sure it’s a good idea to go down there? I’ve learned to keep watch on him from a distance. Even stepping into the room sets him off. I mean, he’s only got, what, maybe another hour or two at most.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t doubt that but...”
She was already on the move, though, stepping toward the door and heading for the stairs.
It was strange. She’d seen captive wolves before. In fact, one of her earliest memories was of her father taking her to a Guild safe house. A wolf had been captured earlier that evening and the hunters were waiting for it to change back so they could interrogate its human host. She remembered being terrified of it, the way it had raged relentlessly and tirelessly against its bonds. She’d wanted to turn away, but her father had forced her to look.
“This is our enemy, Rowan. It knows neither fear nor mercy, and so you must never show it either.”
They’d stayed for several hours until long after the wolf had regressed and sat before them, a naked pleading human. She had remembered her father’s words and had tried not to feel sympathy for it, not even after the hunters put a bullet into its head.
Her father’s words haunted her as she walked down the stairs and she paused to consider things. It would be only an extra minute or two to go back to her room and retrieve her gun. Yet she continued downward, passing through Dean’s laboratory, until finally she stood outside the heavy security door. She hesitated as she realized what she was about to do. The door could be opened from the outside, but the lock was set on a timer. Once closed, it couldn’t be opened again from the inside until dawn broke.
Sure, Coop was watching via camera, but if anything went wrong, there was little chance of him making it down in time to save her.
Every instinct in her body screamed for her to turn around, to at least arm herself. So it was strange how her hand instead reached out, almost in a detached way, keyed in the lock code, and then released the latch.
Almost instantly she felt the electric pull of the wolf. Her senses had been on the wane for the past few hours, so when his proximity brought about the instant release of chemicals in her brain, urging her to fight, to kill her enemy and all like him, the effect was jarring. She ignored the urge as best as she could and stepped in, quickly closing the door behind her and locking herself inside.
She remembered the night in the alley, those last few moments when she’d given up on her life, the hope she’d felt at the concept of being free. And she realized a part of her missed that hope, wondered if perhaps she could feel it again being in his presence.
The click of the door caught the beast’s attention. With a snarl, it lunged toward her, stopping short of the cage walls thanks to the chains which held it securely in place.
Or perhaps not that securely. There came the slightest groan of metal under fatigue, but it held for now.
The werewolf reached for her, clawing at the air, little more than a savage monster after all. The rational part of her began to assert itself and she felt foolish. Whatever she’d thought, hoped, to find down here was little more than some fantasy. The reality was the wolf, and the wolf was little more than a beast in need of being put down once and for...
Her eyes locked with those of the creature, her steely gaze meeting its feral madness, and then the impossible happened. Both of them hesitated, frozen in place as if in a test of wills. She took a step forward, certain that would break the impasse between them. Rather than redouble its effort to get to her, though, the wolf ceased struggling and actually took a step back.
Mesmerized, she continued to gaze into its eyes until realization hit.
They changed. The wolf’s eyes were still tinged red, but the malevolent gaze which had first met her had softened. Ro thought that perhaps the light was playing tricks on her, but when she stepped forward again, almost to the bars of the cage, she saw it was true. A trace of blue had seeped into the wolf’s irises and, along with it, something else: intelligence, understanding ... perhaps more.
The creature stopped baring its teeth and sat on its haunches as it continued to stare at her. A moment later, its tongue rolled out the side of its mouth. Insane as it was, she let out a laugh. For all intents and purposes, Dean now looked less a killer beast and more like an overly large lap dog. The illusion was cemented when he actually wagged his tail at her.
Careful not to take her eyes off him, Ro lowered herself to the floor outside the cage and sat. She could hardly believe what she was doing.
“I’m going to stay here with you until it’s over, if that’s okay,” she said in a gentle voice.
Almost as if understanding her, Dean lay down, using the full length the chain afforded him, and put his head on the floor, his eyes continuing to stare into hers.
She realized his paws were only about a foot away. Crazy as what she’d done up until now was, she knew that what she was about to do next was damn near certifiable.
“It’s okay.” She reached her hand between the bars. “I’m here.”
Dean’s lips pulled back in a snarl for a moment, but she continued to speak to him, ready to pull back at a moment’s notice, until she placed her hand upon his massive paw.
Once her hand rested on his, he relaxed, and his eyes closed. The two remained like that, hand on paw, until the curse asserted itself once again, and he began his transformation back to a man.
21
Dean’s mind awoke long before his body began the painful regression back to his human form.
Or at least partially awoke. It was strange, existing in a sort of halfway state between himself and the wolf. A part of him wanted to rage, to rend, to tear, but that part was no longer dominant. He recognized the girl. She was sitting in front of him. Though the wolf part of him had no name to give her, he knew her nevertheless. Something about her had, once again, drawn him back from the brink, back from a dark place where the only color he could see was the red of spilled blood.
He saw red now, too, but it was her fiery hair, done up in a ponytail but no less brilliant to his eyes. The last time he’d seen her like this she’d been primed for battle, but now she simply sat and looked at him, a mix of wonder and sympathy in her eyes.
More of the human awoke and he was able to put a name to her face – Rowan Sinclair, Ro to her friends. Was she a friend? He found himself hoping she was.
He glanced down and noticed her hand upon his, looking so small compared to the wicked claws upon which it sat, but somehow powerful all the same.
He opened his mouth and yawned. The wolf was tired. Its time was spent. The moon would be waning now and with it the cycle of the beast.
With this realization came the first hints of pain. Dean, almost fully conscious now, understood what this meant and felt fear. He’d never been awake during the change back. Growing into this thing was trau
matic enough, feeling his skin ripple, his bones and muscles expand, and his body morphology completely rearrange itself. How bad would it be to experience in reverse? All he knew was that in months past he’d awoken, sore and restless, but spared the agony of the transformation.
The change came more quickly now, and he saw the hair receding from his paw ... hand and arm, leaving for a moment a grotesque mockery of an appendage. He gritted his teeth as the spasms began to rack his body.
But then he looked down and realized her hand was still atop his, refusing to let go, and somehow that made the rest of the torment he endured a little more bearable.
♦ ♦ ♦
While Ro had seen wolves change back to their human forms before, this time was different. For starters, he wasn’t anywhere near dead. Nor did she have any intention of killing him. That alone was new and strange.
His eyes changed first, shifting from feral red to clear blue, then he began to shrink before her eyes, his massive body transforming, fur and claws receding until he lay naked on the floor in his human skin.
With the setting of the full moon, her pull to Dean and the hunt waned much more abruptly than its approach. It was like that every month, with the strongest of her hunter instincts turning off much like a switch.
Where she had scoffed at his lack of clothing before, she held her tongue now. Lying on the floor, the pain of the transformation obviously racking him, he seemed vulnerable, but in a different way than a hunter might normally view his kind. He was alone, just trying to make his way through this cruel world – saddled with a curse he hadn’t asked for.
Maybe that’s why she felt somewhat of a kinship to this man. Even though they were opposites – he the wolf, she the hunter – they shared the loneliness of their respective existences.
Several minutes passed while Dean recovered from the trauma of the change, her hand still outstretched toward his through the bars of the cage. His gaze shifted up to her face and she guiltily withdrew it.
Lycan Moon: An Urban Fairy Tale (Lycan Evolution Book 1) Page 16