Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella

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Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella Page 25

by Cecilia Dominic


  “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.”

  Peter Bowman huddled in the corner with a small blond boy asleep 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 similar to mine, 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 so I wouldn’t drop the vial. 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 solution 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.

  20

  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.

  “You know keepin’ wild animals as pets is illegal, don’t you, Scotty? Especially ones not indigenous to the area.”

  I tried not to growl. Good for you, Sheriff, that’s a big word.

  “My name is Iain, and it’s not a pet. It just appeared.”

  “Now a wild animal would never just show up at your door if it didn’t know you. Have you been feedin’ this pretty wolf?”

  “No, officer.”

  I didn’t know with certainty, but I could guess that Sheriff Knowles’ gun didn’t have the regulation lead slugs in it. I wondered if they made silver hollow-point bullets and how badly it would hurt.

  I forced myself to sit on my haunches and give Sheriff Knowles a lupine grin. See? I’m a friendly wolf-girl. Don’t shoot me.

  “And did this animal bring anything to you?”

  “Nothing, officer.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I look around?”

  I mind.

  “Do you have a warrant, Sheriff?”

  Yay, Iain!

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He produced an envelope from his pocket and showed an official-looking piece of paper to Iain. “We suspect Doctor Fisher is harboring suspects in a kidnapping case.”

  “Then you may perform a cursory visual inspection of the premises, as the warrant states. I’ll show you around.”

  He glanced back over his shoulder, and I debated whether I should wait or disappear. “Go,” he mouthed, and I bobbed my head.

  I followed the trails back through the forest, but when I came to the spot where I’d knocked Robert into a tree, he wasn’t there. Only the disarrangement of the dried leaves showed where he’d landed.

  You little bitch. I heard him just before he landed on top of me. We rolled, and I alternately struggled to keep his hind legs from disemboweling me with sharp claws and to prevent his teeth from closing in on my neck.
>
  That’s Doctor Bitch to you. But I couldn’t hang on for long—my strength waned. My still unfamiliar werewolf form was no match for his expert maneuvers. All I could do was try not to let him tear apart anything important. I wondered what would happen to my body if he killed me.

  Wait. This wasn’t a physical form, although I’d been acting like it was. With a force of effort, I tugged on the wisp of energy connecting me to my body.

  I woke and coughed and sputtered in my efforts to spit out the bitter aconite. My body felt strange to me, my senses muffled, particularly hearing and smell. I tasted blood in my mouth.

  “How was it?” asked my grandfather.

  “Interesting. How long was I gone?”

  “It’s hard to say, but I would guess about five hours. Did you accomplish what you needed?”

  “I think so.” I passed out.

  I woke a few hours later and saw our captors had tossed some bread and bottles of water into the cave within reach of my bound hands. I had dreamed in fragments, of running through the woods, and of Leo as a wolf, his dark eyes in a lupine face.

  I ate my provisions and was struggling with the cap on the water bottle a commotion erupted on the other side of the metal door fitted into the cave wall. It opened slowly, the light spilling in bit by bit to illuminate the floor. I squinted against the glare. A young man in a paramedic’s uniform poked his head in.

  “They’re in here.”

  The next half hour passed in a whirlwind of images that seemed too bright to my light-deprived eyes. People untied our hands, and the paramedics checked to make sure there were no injuries past minor scrapes and bumps. They also checked for problems that would have been caused by partial starvation and dehydration.

  “How did you know where to find us?” I asked after I drank an entire bottle of water in one gulp.

  “Those two brought us here,” the EMT said and inclined his head toward Leo and Simon. “Once we could tear the boy away from his mother, that is. He insisted on coming with us to help rescue the others.”

  “I’m sure she was glad to see him.”

 

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