The Mountain's Shadow

by Cecilia Dominic

  “Don’t you hear it? We’re being followed.”

  “That’s why I have the silver bullets. Keep going.”

  I shoved my hands in my pocket to warm my chilled fingers. The terrain to either side of the bank grew rockier, and instead of looking up through tree trunks, I instead found myself walking through the eroded lip of the canyon. Small, scrubby bushes and vines clung to the sides, and time seemed to turn back to the end of night before full sunrise. I could barely see in front of me as we entered the gloom.

  “Where’s the cave?” I had been so intent on keeping my feet dry on the narrow path by the river I hadn’t heard Peter close the distance between us. “It should be in here somewhere.”

  “Did you bring a flashlight?” he asked.

  “No. We came from your house, remember?”

  “Here.” He passed a small ultralight flashlight into my hand, and I used it to illuminate our way. Above us, I could see blue sky, but the walls of the canyon cast deep shadows.

  The river’s noise filled the ravine, and if something was following us, I couldn’t hear it. I felt naked and exposed with the light, but there was nothing I could do. I only hoped whoever guarded the laboratory hadn’t seen us.

  “Over there.” Peter gestured to the end of the canyon, where the river disappeared into the walls, and a jagged gash swallowed the light as well as the water. “Shine your light in there.”

  “Are you crazy?” I whispered. “You may as well shoot the damn gun and alert all of them.”

  He didn’t have time to argue. We heard a low growl just behind us, and he swung around. I switched the light off, shoved it in my pocket, and ran toward the gash. A gunshot ricocheted off the walls. I hit the ground and covered my head just as a large, furry body crashed into me. We tumbled around, me struggling, and it snapping and snarling at my throat. Then my head hit a rock, and just before I blacked out, I heard a man scream in terror.

  I came to with a pounding headache and with my wrists tied in front of me. I lay on my side on a sandy surface with hard rock underneath. Peter’s mini flashlight dug into my ribs, and I rolled on to my back. I found the sore spot where I’d hit my head and couldn’t suppress a groan.

  “Doctor Fisher?” The accent and the voice were familiar, albeit a little hoarse.

  “Gabriel?”

  “Aye.”

  “Is it her? Is she all right?” This voice, older, familiar, one I never thought I’d hear again.

  “Grandfather?”

  “Are you okay, Joanna? Did they hurt you?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I rolled on to my side again, then sat up on my knees and rubbed my head, checking for injuries. I found a huge knot that made me see stars when I touched it.

  “I’m a little shaken up, that’s all.” My left wrist throbbed, and I could feel it swollen against the binds. “I’m tied up.”

  “We all are.” This voice, rueful, was Lonna’s.

  “What happened to you?” I asked. “We went to get clothes, and you were gone.”

  “She remembers nothing,” Gabriel said. “It’s not uncommon after the first change. You wake up, usually naked and sometimes in a compromising position, and ask yourself what the hell happened.”

  “Yeah, like your first time getting smashed at a frat party,” Lonna added. I was relieved to hear the usual hint of humor in her voice.

  I heard something shuffling toward me, and I shrank back, unsure in the absence of light what it could be. Then I smelled sweat, dried blood, and river water and felt calloused fingers caress my face.

  “Grandfather?”

  “I’m here, Joanna.”

  “I’d hug you, but I’m a little incapacitated.”

  He chuckled. “I understand. We’ll get our hugs in later.”

  “Let me see you.”

  “How? There’s no light in here.”

  “Where are we?”

  “In a side room off the main cavern.” This voice was younger and unfamiliar. “There’s a metal door they keep closed during the day and night and only pull us out when they want to draw blood or experiment on us.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Johnny.”

  My throat tightened with tears. “Louise’s grandson?”

  “Yes.” The voice sounded small and afraid.

  “How many of you are in here? Wait a second, shut your eyes.” I twisted until the flashlight was in my hands, and I turned it on. The powerful beam, even aimed toward the ceiling, was enough to illuminate the prison and its inhabitants. Everyone squinted.

  I saw Lonna and Gabriel, both naked except for dingy white lab coats. Ropes ran from their tied wrists to large iron rings bolted into the walls. Three boys ranging in age from ten to twelve were also tied up. My grandfather, his cheeks sunken and covered with stubble, sat beside them. His shrewd, knowing eyes were the same. We were tied to adjacent rings.

  “Why hasn’t anyone untied themselves?” I asked. “Or the others, rather. You can all reach.”

  “They make us change too fast, so our fingers don’t work as well as they should,” Johnny explained.

  A horrible realization broke to the forefront of my brain, and I flexed my fingers experimentally. Stiff and numb, all of them. I’d thought it was from being tied so tight.

  “Pull up my sleeve, please,” I said, and my grandfather obliged, his fingers cramped and unwieldy as well. As I feared, on my forearm just below the ropes, a small red puncture wound. I had been infected.

  “How soon is the first transformation?” I asked.

  “Usually it wouldn’t be until the next full moon, but the formula they use is different. It may be tonight.”

  “What time is it?” But there was no way to tell—they had taken my watch. How had they missed the flashlight? Or maybe they wanted me to know and to fear. I looked around the room, but no one would meet my eyes, not even my grandfather. I remembered the heartrending scream and Simon Van Doren’s hoarseness.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” My voice, small, echoed in the stone chamber. No one could—or would—answer.

  I didn’t speak to anyone, and they left me to my despair. I knew what was happening to me, could picture the physiological process as the viral vector raced through my bloodstream and replicated, attacking my cells and finding a certain combination on a specific genetic strand. It wasn’t comforting.

  I wanted to deny I had the CLS potential, but there was the Landover Curse, the one that skipped a generation. I knew now what it was.

  “Did you read those books I gave you, Joanna?” The voice was my grandfather’s.

  “I was familiar with them already.”

  “So you read the one by Lecouteaux, on shapeshifting?”

  “It’s a classic. I’ve practically memorized it.”

  “Use it.” With those cryptic words, he bowed his head and fell silent.

  I’d had enough of silence. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a werewolf? Why didn’t you let me in when you knew I was studying it?”

  “Would you have believed me if I had?”

  “I don’t know.” The lab seemed so far away from this cave, this despair. So did the Manor. I wondered if Iain was having any luck, if he’d missed me yet. Even if he did alert his friends, what proof did we have? Werewolves and kidnapped children? You can’t build a legal case on a fairytale, no matter how gruesome.

  The air changed, and I became aware of a hum, a vibration through the cave floor and walls. Spots floated at the edge of my vision, and I felt as though my lungs were being squeezed. I gasped for air but couldn’t fill them and wheezed. I doubled over and toppled from my knees to the floor in the fetal position as pain shot from my heels through my hamstrings, my lower back, my shoulders and my neck—like giant hands were wringing me out and shaping me into something I wasn’t. My clothes, which had been comfortable, felt tight in all the wrong places, and I strained against the fabric, panting and moaning.

  “Use it!” my grandfather yelled. “Use
the book. And open your mouth.”

  I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out as I remembered what I had found in the study, books about how rather than physically changing into werewolves, people would fall into a trance and allow their spiritual aspect to roam free. Some called it a doppelganger, others an astral projection. I felt something bitter on my tongue: aconite. My shuddering stopped, and I shrank in from my body, like it was a shell. I pulled away from my skin and my bones until I was hidden inside.

  “What did you do to her?” Lonna’s voice, laden with tears, seemed so very far away. “Jo—”

  “Don’t say her name. Don’t touch her. She’s in a trance. If you call her or touch her, she may not be able to get back into her body.”

  My lungs breathed deeply and at an even pace. I was inside my chest, curled up and ready to be expelled. With a breath, I emerged into the cave and stretched my unfamiliar, awkward body. The disorientation only lasted a moment. Then I felt as though I had been waiting my whole life for the transformation into a creature of mist and spirit with four legs, a long tail, and brown eyes.

  “She’s a wolf,” breathed one of the boys. I looked at him and at the others and could see the lupine aspects in each of them.

  “Go,” my grandfather said. “We shall guard your body until you return.”

  For a moment, panic welled up in my heart as it occurred to me I might not know how to get back, how to wake myself up. And what if someone did say my name or touch me? It might break the tenuous connection I still had with my physical form.

  “You don’t have time for concern. Just go.”

  I knew Iain would need proof for the FDA, and the only way to get it would be for me to bring it to him. And hope he didn’t ask any questions.

  Walking through walls proved to be no problem. I went through them as though they were mist, and I willed myself to be invisible as I entered the cave proper. Halogen lights were propped up, and it felt like the movie set of an underground laboratory rather than the real thing. Two men in white coats worked at a long metal table. One of them measured a silvery liquid into vials with a dropper while the other one peered through a microscope.

  “Do you think it’s happened to her yet?” the first one asked. The light flattened the reddish-gold of his hair and goatee, and I imagined the flame it would be in sunlight.

  “No. We’d’ve heard her scream. Just keep working. They need this prototype in Memphis by tomorrow afternoon.” This one looked like some sort of modern medical monk with his receding black hair and long white coat. He blinked beady black eyes.

  “Another all-nighter.” The first one sighed. “You’d think they’d understand between the experiments and the babysitting we have to do, especially with them bringing in new people lately. One of us is going to have to feed the kid at some point.”

  “We’ll send the lawyer for food. It’s about all they’re good for, anyway.”

  I saw Peter huddled in the corner with a small blond child, a boy who slept in his arms. The child had the beginnings of his father’s straight, narrow nose. Before I realized it, I was right beside them, peering into the toddler’s face. He opened large brown eyes, and I could see my reflection in them even though I still willed myself to be invisible. Then I realized he could see me, he had the gift. Maybe it was like what mine had been, and he understood the wolves’ silent communication. I imagined he had heard one of the boys as a wolf and crept out of the house to see the other child, not realizing the trap. He didn’t cry, only smiled sleepily, murmured, “Doggie,” and dozed off again.

  “Hey, lawyer. Bowman.”

  Peter jerked awake, and I could see the black eye. He’d been roughed up pretty good. I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction.

  “What do you have in your house for food?”

  “You’re letting me go?” His good eye narrowed. “For what?”

  “We’re not letting you take the kid, dumbass. You bring food, and we’ll think about it.”

  “Right.”

  “Perhaps you could have your wifey whip something up for us. She’s French, isn’t she?”

  “You’d be disappointed. She’s a horrible cook.”

  “Ah, well, those European women make it up in other ways, I bet.”

  The ribald joking continued, and I willed for Peter to do something, anything, to distract them so I could grab one of the vials of “prototype”. They didn’t say what it was, but I could only guess it was a vehicle—complete with viral vector—for the bird flu vaccine. Finally, I’d had enough and gave the kid’s knee a little nip. Not enough to break the skin, but it definitely got his attention.

  His cry reverberated off the stone walls, and I jumped away, the noise harsh in my newly hypersensitive ears.

  “What the hell?”

  “Shut that kid up!” The tall one with the hook nose and beady eyes hauled Peter to his feet and ushered him outside the cave. The other one followed to help control the kid, and I saw my chance. I grabbed one of the sealed vials with my mouth and dashed out of the cave behind them.

  A low growl stopped me in my tracks, and I saw Peter, the two scientists, and Lance cornered by two wolves, one yellow wolf and one smaller black one. They crouched on the bank, their eyes aglow. The breeze brought me their scents, and amidst the musky odor of wolf, I recognized Ron’s familiar scent, but the other one must have been Kyra. Now I knew who had attacked me and Peter. But why had they attacked? I didn’t have time to think about it. I leapt over the stream and followed the other bank. They were so distracted by Lance’s cries and the commotion made by the three men they paid no attention to me. I wondered if a spirit-wolf such as myself would even have a scent.

  The moon, waning but still bright this far away from the city, dappled the path, and I had to consciously focus my attention on the task at hand. The night forest proved to be a gauntlet of intriguing rustlings, wisps of scent begging to be followed, and glowing eyes that blinked shut when I looked directly at them. My stomach growled, but I dared not hunt, at least not until I delivered the vial to Iain.

  So they got you, too?

  The familiar voice reverberated in my head, and I stopped, confused. Where did it come from?

  Who’s there? I asked, trying out my mental voice. Robert?

  He stepped on to the path, a lean wolf with glossy black fur. His tongue lolled to the side as he sat and looked me over. I sat on my haunches and watched him, unsure of what to do next.

  Where are you headed, pretty wolf lady?

  I have a delivery to make. I tried to remember who I was and how hurt I had been, but in my wolf form I was mercifully separated from all those silly human emotions.

  So I see. To whom?

  Who do you think?

  Iain, I presume.

  Yep.

  I’m afraid I can’t let you.

  I tried to gauge his seriousness as well as a possible escape route.

  Why not?

  You got your one chance earlier. My loyalty, although forced, is with Cabal. If the FDA finds out about the viral vectors in the vaccines, the higher-ups will kill my wife.

  I narrowed my eyes. And that would be a bad thing?

  Don’t let the wolf take over your humanity, Joanie. She’s pregnant.

  The statement hit me in the gut, the force of this second betrayal almost enough to knock the vial out of my mouth.

  How far along is she?

  Three months.

  I did some calculations with my eyes closed. That was when we were still together. I opened them to find him breathing in my face.

  She wanted a baby. I thought it would help keep her distracted and out of the way so I could carry on with you. Then all this happened.

  I backed up until my tail brushed against a tree. You did use me. You’re no better than sleazy Peter Bowman.

  C’mon, Joanie. We could get out of this together, and then they’d let Sarah go, and it would be just as before.

  For a moment, I was tempted. I could
almost smell the faint chemical odor of the lab, the scent of his leather sofa as he lowered me on to it so we could make love again, just as before. Wasn’t that what I had been missing, yearning for ever since our fateful meeting?

  But married men always go back to their wives. This was a lesson I had learned all too well. And this one had ruined my career so he could keep stringing me along. With a growl, I leaped aside just as he lunged for me, and I heard the crack of his skull against the tree. I didn’t look back to see if he was hurt—if he was, well, I could let the wolf take over that part of my humanity, because I didn’t want to admit to my broken heart and the fact he’d almost fooled me again.

  Chapter Twenty

  I returned to Wolfsbane Manor and realized, although I had meant to give the vial to Iain—and as far as I could smell, he was still alone there—I had one small problem: I didn’t have opposable thumbs, and all the doors were closed and likely locked. So I did the next best thing—I went around to the side door by the kitchen and rang the doorbell with my long nose. I heard Iain pad through the kitchen and pause by the window by the sink. I knew I had told him to be careful, but I hadn’t counted on it working against me. The door opened. He looked down, and his eyes widened in surprise.

  “Well, hello there,” he crooned. “What’s a pretty girl doggie like you doing here?”

  I carefully placed the vial on the mat and sat on my haunches.

  “What’s this, then?”

  It’s a sample of the serum, idiot. But all that came out was a whine.

  “Have you been to the lab in the woods? Did you see Joanie? Is she okay?”

  As okay as one can be separated from one’s body. I hoped his saying my name wouldn’t keep me from being able to return, but he was likely too far away from my physical self to have an effect.

  Iain still didn’t pick up the vial. Instead, he glanced behind me and gave it a quick nudge with his foot. It rolled until it rested in a crack between the mat and the threshold stone with a clink.

  I realized something was horribly wrong, and I turned to see the barrel of a gun pointed straight at my head by the charming Sheriff Knowles. All trace of friendly mountain cop was gone, his expression determined.