The Altering (Coywolf Series Book 1)

by Abby Tyson

  Someone nearby cleared their throat. Marcia appeared from around the corner, flanked by the two Gabes. "Hi there," Marcia said. "Looks like this little one's causing a ruckus. Again." She turned to Colby and Hettie. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you two better get inside. Everyone else is locked in." Addressing Savi, she said, "We need to talk about what happened last night."

  "Savi said Top tried to shoot her," said Hettie.

  "Shoot you?" asked Marcia. "He wouldn't have shot you. I specifically told Thomas and everyone to be careful not to harm you. Thomas told me how he caught you with Glenn, and how he was trying to scare you into returning when someone shot him with our own tranquilizer dart."

  "He wasn't trying to scare me, he fired," said Savi, before Marcia's words settled into her brain. "Wait, Glenn? You mean George. Top knows George?"

  Marcia cocked her head to match Savi. "George? No, his name is Glenn."

  "No, that was my manager, George. Top must have confused him with someone else."

  "Thomas should know him well enough. He's his brother."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Brother?" Savi asked, hardly breathing. "But Top's your son."

  "Henrietta and Baxter both said you were bright," said Marcia with too much earnestness.

  Savi's mind refused to work. "But he's... George."

  "Glenn George Solas, named after his father."

  Before Savi could wrap her head around this new information, Colby cried out. His body spasmed, arching backwards, and he fell to the ground.

  At the same time, Hettie's hair started growing, turning to a darker reddish brown color and clinging to her body. She turned to Colby and called out his name, but her voice was strained and unrecognizable.

  "Hettie!" cried Savi.

  "Get them inside, now," Marcia ordered the Gabes.

  "Why do they have to be locked up?" Savi asked as each man grabbed an arm and helped Hettie and Colby toward the barn.

  "Their choice," Marcia said, watching them as they disappeared around the corner of the barn. "Would you want to wake up naked in the middle of the woods?"

  Once again, Marcia managed to sound both innocent and snide at the same time. Savi watched the spot where she had last seen Hettie, but her mind was still recovering from what Marcia had said about George. "George couldn't be your son. He was helping me escape."

  "The two are not exclusive, unfortunately. Glenn knew you'd been bitten, that you hadn't altered, and how important you could be for our mission, but he was sending you away from us. He's been seduced by so-called civilization."

  Unable to believe it, Savi said, "George isn't your son." Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait a minute." Taking off her pack, she pulled out George's phone. The knot in her stomach constricted as she entered her birthday again to get to the home screen. She opened the voicemail and pressed play on the one marked from "Mom."

  A tearful voice, unmistakably Marcia, rang out from George's phone. "Glenn, Thomas told me what happened last night. I'm a wreck, but you don't seem to care anymore about how your actions affect me. You've betrayed me for the last time. I am done waiting for this phase of yours to pass. Helping that girl leave, when you know what she could do, is unforgivable." Marcia's digital self took a deep breath, and her voice hardened as she said, "You are no longer welcome in my home. Goodbye Glenn." The phone went silent.

  The real Marcia stood red-faced, her eyes glistening in the spotlight shining down on them from the large barn. She gently took the phone from Savi's unmoving hands.

  "What did you mean, 'what she could do'? What can I do?"

  "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Marcia asked with forced perkiness.

  Staring blankly at Marcia, Savi struggled to regain her composure and salvage Pearl's plan.

  "I came back here to tell you something."

  Marcia sniffled. "Oh?"

  Savi tried to remember the speech she'd rehearsed.

  Good thing Hettie and Colby aren't here to call me out on this.

  "I ran away last night because I was scared and confused. But the more I thought about it, the more everything you said made sense."

  "Let's walk and talk," Marcia said, turning toward the barn.

  After a pause, Savi jogged to catch up with her, trying to keep her voice calm but also watching out for Marcia's goons. "People aren't doing enough to keep the planet from becoming barren. At least you're doing what you believe in, and working for a common good. So maybe I should give it a chance, and keep an open mind."

  Marcia opened the door Savi had seen Top and everyone else go into. Before stepping through, Savi looked at Marcia and tried to sound convincing when she said, "I came back to join you."

  "Then join us," she said, nodding to the doorway.

  Savi couldn't tell if Marcia believed her or not. Her lackluster response was the complete opposite of what Savi had been expecting. The fact that Marcia was acting like she had expected Savi's return made her second guess coming back all over again. Had Savi been duped? Were Ebony and Marcia in cahoots after all?

  Heart pounding, and expecting to be grabbed as soon as she entered their lair, Savi stepped through the door. But instead of an ambush, Savi walked into a small apartment suite. Top and Baxter sat eating dinner around a large oval table directly to her left. In front of her was a sitting area with a couch, a few recliners, and a TV, and beyond that was a twin bed tucked into the far corner. Lining the walls were bookshelves and dressers, covered with books, picture frames, potted plants, and wolf knick-knacks.

  The cozy, grandmotherly space was made surreal by the soundtrack of faint screams. At first Savi thought they were watching a movie, but the TV was off. As they walked farther into the room, the two Gabes slipped in through an interior door beside the TV. The shrieks of pain followed them in, and Savi caught a glimpse of the sandy floor before they closed the door behind them.

  "You've got the magic touch, Mama," said Top. He didn't look up when he said it, so Savi wasn't sure if he was talking about her or his dinner.

  Baxter smiled. "Nice to see you again, Savi."

  Noticing her involuntary stare at his leg, he said, "I thought I saw you with your buddies last night. They tell you what they did?" He lifted his leg, the silverware rattling against the plates as he plopped his foot up on the table. A mini avalanche of encrusted dirt fell from his sneaker onto the polished wood.

  "Baxter, people are eating," Marcia chided.

  "Just showin' off your handiwork, Mama." He raised his eyebrows at Savi, then nodded at his leg. "Elixir of life. Healed me up in no time. Diggin' that pig out sure was no fun, though."

  Remembering that she was undercover, Savi met his eyes with what she hoped resembled concern. "So they did shoot you?"

  "Speaking of shooting, Thomas," said Marcia, "Savannah insists you were going to shoot her last night. Can you set her mind at ease?"

  Top looked Savi squarely in the eye. "Mama told me to bring you in alive, and that's what I was going to do. My two-faced brother, on the other hand..."

  "Now, now, that's enough," said Marcia. She turned to Savi. "Satisfied?"

  While Savi was about as far from satisfied as one could be, she nodded.

  "That's settled then," said Marcia, heading to the sitting area. "We're here to save people, not shoot them. Now let's go downstairs."

  Savi came up beside her, wondering where the stairs were -- there were no doors in the room other than the ones leading outside and into the werewolf room.

  Sitting down on the couch, Marcia reached down and began pulling back the corner of a heavy rug. Gently clearing her throat and speaking a little louder this time, she repeated, "We're going downstairs."

  "Don't you lift a finger, Mama," said Baxter, jumping up with no trace of any stiffness. "You push yourself too hard as it is. I'll grab the door for ya."

  As soon as Baxter spoke, Marcia let go of the rug. "I'm perfectly capable of opening a door, thank you very much," she said with a pout.


  A blush of red bloomed on Baxter's forehead as he gave Marcia an uneasy look, clearly trying to figure out if she was actually upset with him or just teasing. Marcia held her frown, and he began to apologize when she interrupted him with a laugh. "Oh, Baxter, you're too easy."

  Baxter's squat face went bright red, but he laughed along with her. "You bet I am, Mama."

  Top started chuckling too. "If you told him holding his breath would make him taller, Tiny'd do it! He'd believe it!"

  Although he didn't seem to appreciate Top's jibes, Baxter picked up where Marcia had left off, pulling back the rug. Savi remembered how he had said these people were his family, but based on how she'd seen Marcia and Top treat him, Savi was getting the impression that his high regard for them was not reciprocated.

  When he'd drawn back the rug almost halfway, a trap door appeared in the wood floor underneath. Grabbing a round iron handle, he lifted the thick hatch, revealing a ladder descending into darkness.

  Marcia put a hand on his arm. Savi thought she was going to say thank you, but instead Marcia asked, "Can you also grab the dish soap and a damp sponge from the kitchen and leave it on the table for me?"

  Baxter's proud smile turned into a sheepish grimace. He glanced back at the dinner table, then, looking at her sideways, he said, "How about I just wash it for ya after we're done?"

  Eyes twinkling, Marcia said, "That would be the sweetest thing you've done for me all day. Thank you."

  As Marcia turned around to climb down, she said, "It's a steep climb. Be sure to hold the rail firmly." Getting on her knees, she slowly put her feet on the ladder. She moved with such caution and laboriousness, never quite crying out but making just enough noise so everyone in the room knew how difficult this was for her, that Savi was caught between wanting to help her and wanting to shove her down.

  The room below was dark except for the light spilling in from above, dimly illuminating the cement floor and walls around the ladder.

  "All set," said Marcia when she was out of sight. A light switched on from within the room below, but all it did was brighten what was already visible; Savi still couldn't see what she was climbing into. She glanced at the four men eating. Top and Baxter were chewing, watching her.

  "I must be three times your age. If I can make it, so can you," Marcia's bubbly voice called.

  Savi placed a sweaty hand on the ladder and her feet on the wide steps. She half expected someone to grab her and yank her down, but as she descended, her fear gave way to curiosity at the sight of a brightly lit laboratory, about the same size as the apartment above. Two long and wide steel tables, their centers lined with shelves filled with papers, glass beakers, and microscopes, ran nearly the entirety of the lab.

  Marcia was busily opening drawers and rummaging through the cabinets that sat beneath the tables. "I'm not down here much anymore. They've moved everything around." She pointed to a stool beside one of the tables. "Have a seat."

  Opening another cabinet, she pulled out a few small glass bottles, then put them back. "Our friend Henrietta lit up like a light bulb when she saw we have a lab on site."

  "I bet." Still standing at the bottom of the ladder, Savi asked, "How did you heal Baxter so quickly?"

  "Werewolf tears," Marcia said, her back to Savi as she continued searching. "Potent stuff. Hard to collect, though."

  A vague memory of someone making her drink something in the den after her fall was triggered. "Do you drink it?"

  Marcia paused her search and looked at Savi. "Why?"

  Savi took a few steps toward the tall steel stool. "Just curious."

  "I suppose you could, although I've never tested it." Marcia resumed shuffling through the contents of a cabinet. I've only ever applied it directly to the wound. So you want to join us?"

  "Yeah," answered Savi, leaning against the cool cement wall.

  "You're curious about why you didn't change?"

  "Just a bit."

  Apparently missing Savi's sarcasm, Marcia let out an unbelieving "Pff!" before opening a drawer just on the other side of the table from where Savi stood.

  "Ah," she said, pulling equipment out and placing it on a tray. "Not where I'd keep it, but it's not up to me anymore," she muttered.

  Savi started to sit, but stopped when she saw Marcia pull out a syringe. "What's that for?"

  "Blood sample." Marcia walked around the end of the table, carrying her tray. "I've never understood people who are afraid of needles. You barely feel it!" She reached for Savi's arm.

  Without thinking, Savi pulled away, holding her arm protectively. "Why do you need a blood sample?"

  "How am I supposed to run tests if we don't have blood?" Marcia answered, in that patented tone that was halfway between sarcasm and sincerity.

  Although Savi loathed the idea of giving this woman access to her genetic makeup, there was no way to object and maintain her charade. So she got up on the stool and stared ahead, trying not to think about what she was submitting to.

  "Henrietta told me you're not going to school," Marcia said, tying a flimsy rubber tube around Savi's bicep.

  At least Savi's bristling at the college question was predictable. "Yeah," she said, bracing herself for the inevitable scolding.

  "Next year?" Marcia cleaned the inside of her elbow with a wet cotton swab.

  "I don't know." Savi stared at the ladder, fighting the urge to rip her wrist out of Marcia's warm hand. A small prick told her the needle was in. "Were you a nurse?"

  "I worked in a lab for many years. I've sucked the blood out of hundreds of people," she said with a smile. "College is often a waste of time, especially if you're drifting."

  Savi was so surprised that she hardly noticed the pinch as the needle left her arm. This was the first time she'd heard an adult say something in support of her decision.

  "Right," was all she could think to say.

  With a practiced hand, Marcia placed a clean cotton swab on the bleeding pinprick and folded Savi's arm back. Opening a bandaid, she gave Savi a motherly look. "Lost is actually a great place to be."

  "I'm not lost," Savi said, more as a reflex against her mother's warning.

  Marcia chuckled, her eyes brightening. "That's right. You're here, with us." She gently patted Savi's arm where she had placed the bandaid and said, "We're looking for answers too. And now that you're here, we've got a very exciting question: Why didn't you alter? What makes you different?"

  Picking up the tray, Marcia stood and walked to the back of the lab. "Henrietta and Colby are moving in a new direction now," she said. "They're ready to explore their new lives, to learn all the wonderful ways they can make a difference. They're a part of something bigger than all of us. If you stay, you can be a part of it too."

  The trapdoor opened, and Top's voice called, "You're needed up here, Mama."

  Another man's voice, one Savi didn't recognize, carried down, shouting frantically. "Mama! Mama!"

  Hustling to the bottom of the ladder, Marcia asked, "Is that Jameson?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Top said.

  "Why..." Marcia turned to Savi as she trailed off, confusion visibly giving way to understanding.

  "Mama!" the man cried hysterically.

  "Send him down here," Marcia called up the ladder. "Jameson," she shouted. "Jameson! Come down here, let me take a look at you."

  Marcia backed away from the ladder as a guy who looked to be in his late twenties climbed down. Sobbing, he fell into Marcia's arms, repeating over and over, "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me?" Marcia shushed him and pet his chin-length brown hair. Savi sat on the stool, looking anywhere but at the awkward scene.

  "Who's that?" he asked, drawing Savi's gaze. He was pulling away from Marcia, wiping his face.

  Keeping her hands on his shoulders, Marcia moved between him and Savi. "No one, she's no one. Just a friend joining the cause. Have a seat. Let's take a look at you." Marcia led him to another stool on the other side of the lab. "Why don't you go back up?" Marcia a
sked Savi. "Tell Thomas I'll be there in a sec."

  Savi did as she was told. Top was the only one still in the room. Sitting on the couch, the lamplight reflecting off of his smooth head, he read a magazine with a group of men holding rifles over their heads on the cover. Her nose twitched at the scent of alcohol, reminding her of what she had given up just that morning, and she licked her lips at the small glass on the coffee table, half-full of amber liquid.

  "I heard," he said without looking up.

  Overwhelmed by the sudden need to down Top's drink, she went to the door that led to the cage room.

  Top's voice startled her when she put a hand on the doorknob. "Where you going?"

  Trying to keep it a casual statement instead of a guilty question, she said, "To see Hettie."

  "Altering's over. Wait here."

  As she took the seat at the table closest to the outside door, Savi wondered how he knew, but then she noticed the distant sound of screams had been replaced with howls and barks.

  "There must be a ton of soundproofing in these walls for all of that..." Savi gestured toward the cage room door, "...not to be deafening from this side."

  Still not looking at her, Top took a sip of his drink.

  Savi searched the room for something to focus on other than Top's glass. The window in the door that led outside revealed only her reflection and the room behind her. It was dark enough that Pearl and the others were probably moving in by now. And whatever scheme Marley and Ren had concocted most likely involved the cover of night as well.

  Finding it hard to sit still, Savi got up and started circling the room. Though she never saw Top's gaze leave his magazine, Savi felt his eyes on her as she pretended to browse Marcia's library. Maintaining her calm veneer while knowingly standing at the center of a gathering storm was proving to be more difficult than she had imagined. Even if Top couldn't hear her pounding heart -- which she found difficult to believe -- he was sure to notice how often she wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans, or how uninterested she really was in the complete writings of John Muir. The vision of Top pointing a gun at her and accusing her of duplicity was so clear in Savi's mind, that she was almost surprised he couldn't see it too. Desperate for something to calm her nerves, she searched for a cabinet that might hold the liquor, but nothing obvious presented itself.