by L. E. Horn
My stomach twisted and I braced myself. I didn’t want to spook him, but I knew it would be bad, and it was.
“He told me to choose: my brother or me. At first, I didn’t get what he was on about. Then he . . . showed me.” His hands folded into fists. “I couldn’t let that happen to Evan. So I let him. First, a couple a times a week, but then he came when I worked in the barn an’ took me out with him to the field—an’ I knew he’d done this to Riley too. I skipped school, did drugs.” He shrugged. “Would’ve run, but he would’ve gone after Evan. And I couldn’t take Evan with me to live on the street.” He shook his head. “Tried talkin’ to Judith, the wife. Called me evil—I didn’t try again.”
His story connected on a deep level, and something within me responded with a surge of rage that almost made the fangs pop from my gums. I struggled to put the wulf back down, but it proved a tougher battle than I anticipated. Finally, I wrestled him into submission, and although my gums itched, the war remained inside.
What the hell? Although the anger and disgust I experienced on Nate’s behalf could have triggered the wulf, its ferocity surprised me. Is the virus making it unstable? Or is it just the fever?
Nate stared at the floor, and I stopped myself from asking why he didn’t report Jonathan to social services. It sounded so easy, but I knew it wasn’t.
“You did what you had to do. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“Yeah.” He kicked his foot again. “Keep tellin’ myself that.” He sighed and glanced at me. The look in his eyes made my stomach clench. There’s more.
After a moment, Nate continued. “Caught him watchin’ Evan one day as he cleaned the chicken coop. I knew he wanted my brother.” He closed his eyes. I waited. When he continued, his voice sounded strained. “So I started to . . . pretend I wanted it. To distract him from Evan.”
Oh God. The nausea rose from out of nowhere, and I fought both it and the wulf. I began to understand how Nate was such a twisted mess. Hatred for Jonathan rose within me, for what he’d been and what he’d done.
“Did heavy drugs to cope. But it worked. He stayed away from Evan.” He focused his gaze on the far wall. “Then one day Judith asked me to expand the vegetable garden. I needed to dig a new area closer to the creek, and I found the body.”
Still struggling with my internal hairy demon, I almost didn’t understand at first. The body? Then it clicked. “Riley didn’t run away.”
He glanced at me, a sick look in his eyes. “Wasn’t sure it was human, at first. Thought maybe a deer, but then I saw the clothes.” He grimaced. “Riley’d been gone two years, but the jacket was his.” Nate studied his hands; they were large, with long, strong fingers. “When Judith saw the body, I thought she’d stroke. She musta known. But she called the cops. I still wonder—what would’ve happened if Jonathan had been home? I figure Fate finally smiled on me.”
I stared at Nate, recognizing relief in his expression. He’d told me the worst parts, and the rest would be easy.
“They busted Jonathan and he confessed, but he never told the police he’d done it to me too.” He paused. “So they moved us to another family.”
“Where’s Evan now?” I asked.
“Evan’s an effin’ genius,” Nate said, cracking a strained smile. “Got scholarships, graduated from university, got a great job as a biochemist.” He shot me a quick glance. “Don’t talk much. Haven’t seen him in months. But he’s doin’ great.”
“Does he know?”
Nate’s eyes widened as he looked at me. “No. I don’t want him to. If you meet him, you can’t tell him.” The panicked expression made me react.
“It’s okay, Nate. I would never tell your story.”
He relaxed and then his lips twitched. “Sorry. You’re the only person who knows.”
“I’m honored you trusted me with it.” I shook my head. “What you did was brave.”
Nate’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “Seemed like the only thing I could do . . . should’ve reported the prick. Know that now.” He hesitated. “Maybe—later I wondered—did I want him to do those things?” His face went rigid. “When I pretended . . . it was almost easier. And I kind of . . . well, responded.” He rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “It’s twisted me up. I don’t know who or what I am. Now I’m off the drugs, maybe I can figure it out.”
I considered the battle that lay ahead for everybody. Nate’s identity crisis would only get worse. Much worse. I sighed. I was running out of time. “Nate, what happened to you evokes powerful emotions, and you’ll have to work hard to control them or they’ll control you. At least by telling me this, you can begin the process.”
The hazel eyes blinked. “Telling you’s helped. Like somethin’s let go.” And suddenly, he smiled. “And . . . I protected him.”
“That’s what brothers do,” I said. And from out of nowhere, the wulf clawed my insides apart. What the hell? I curled up on the chair as something shrieked in my brain and darkness swirled around me.
“Lee? Are you okay?”
I looked up and realized Nate had me by the shoulders. My entire body shook with reaction to—what? What just happened?
“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied. “Had a dizzy spell, there. Let’s see if the cafeteria has supper ready, eh?”
His eyes still dark with concern, Nate nodded and released me. As we headed for supper, the walls dipped and spun, and I put a hand out to steady myself.
Is the virus affecting me? Am I losing control?
I didn’t think a good supper would fix anything, but it was worth a try.
17
The dark alley stank of urine and other things best left unknown. I crouched behind a dumpster, among the garbage that had missed on the first throw. I was invisible in the shadows, but I was trapped.
“Come on out, little boy. Or you too scared?”
“He’s a wuss. Or a fag. Maybe both.”
“He’ll be fun.”
Coby. My foster brother. And his friends, or un-hired thugs, depending on how you looked at it.
My heart pounded.
“Lee—amm . . .” Coby stood on the other side of the dumpster. I trembled.
“Coby? What’re you guys doing in there?”
My heart stopped. Trevor—the latest arrival to our foster family and my only chance. I stepped out from behind the dumpster.
“Liam?” Trevor frowned, his dark eyes flicking between me and the other three boys, who suddenly found the ground extremely interesting. Three years older, heavier, and taller, Trevor intimidated even Coby. He frowned at the thugs before looking at me.
“You’d better get a move on or you’ll be late for supper,” he said.
Clutching my bag of books, I flew past him and on up the street. But I felt Coby’s eyes boring into my back as I ran.
Heart thumping and covered in sweat, I shot up to a sitting position on the cot. It took me a moment to get my bearings in the darkness, and until I unclenched my hands, I didn’t realize I’d sprouted claws.
I shoved them beneath the covers, forced my breathing into a normal rhythm, and concentrated on putting the pointy bits back where they belonged. Had the cameras captured the transformation? Perhaps claws were no longer so unusual; we were getting close to the full moon.
I hadn’t had nightmares about my childhood in years. Nate’s story had shaken something loose in me, and I didn’t know how to put it back. I barely remembered Trevor—I was seven when I met him, and only six months out from the accident that claimed my parents. Within days I’d gone from an indulged only child to foster-care hell.
Now, it was like he stood before me—a gawky teenager with long black hair swept into a ponytail and a narrow face with high cheekbones and copper skin.
I lay down and contemplated the dream, and what happened after—going to Trevor’s room later that night. He’d been reading a Batman comic. He seldom smiled or spoke to me, and many kids at school feared him. Before that day, I had as
well.
I stood in front of him. “I wanted to thank you.”
“Didn’t do anything,” he said.
“If you hadn’t been there . . . well, it would have been bad.”
He eyed me. “Wherever you came from, you never needed to fight.”
I shook my head.
He considered me, as though weighing options. “I’ll teach you things, to help you hold your ground. My grandfather told me to fight for what you believe. He also told me to protect your family. We live together now, so you’re my brother. That means we look out for each other.”
I stammered, “I-I’ve never had a brother.”
“Well,” he’d said, astonishing me with a smile, “You have one now.”
Now I shivered as I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling of my cell. Brothers. Did that explain why these memories had surfaced after Nate’s story of sacrifice for his brother? Or was it the virus asserting control over me? Would I go the way of Dillon after all?
I longed to speak with Sam. I ached for her, body and soul. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach her.
Perhaps, if the virus was seizing control, it was just as well.
* * *
I should have known Nate would be the first to show his wulf. We sat on the floor, practicing poking at each other. It was now a familiar exercise. We formed teams and took turns trying to get emotional responses.
Lucas only ever teamed with Travis. It worked because Lucas was the only one capable of ruffling Travis’s calm, good-natured self. Travis had spent his life protecting Lucas, and the smaller cousin read his big buddy like a book. So I provided them a task and left them to it. They spent most of their time speaking Cree, but their body language gave me glimpses of their progress. As did the occasional lifted eyebrow from Reese, who didn’t identify as Cree, but obviously understood it.
Reese’s natural ability to read people made him quite good at the poking exercise. I was the only one who knew anything of Nate’s story, but Reese was working on him. Nate’s entire back had gone rigid, and I paced over that way when I heard Reese say, “I’ve got no issues if you like guys.”
Oh, man.
The snarl cut through all conversation in the room. Everyone sat up in shock and all eyes swivelled to Nate. In one fluid movement, Reese stood and backed away. I crouched in front of Nate, whose eyes glowed gold. Wulf gold, but pale, like crystallized sunlight. His lips curled back over fangs that would have done Dillon proud. Blood trickled from his mouth.
I met the glare head on. “Okay, Nate. Now I need you to ramp that anger back down. Remember our breathing exercises? Breathe with me.”
Creaking noises echoed as Nate’s fingers grew claws straight into the flooring. But the gold eyes tracked mine, and he took a deep breath. And then another.
“Breathe. In. And out. That’s it.”
I sensed activity at the door—our wulfleng guard had called for backup. I held up a hand, and to give them credit, they paused. Perhaps they realized that if they made any kind of move on Nate, things might go south in a hurry.
Their presence registered with Nate, but he stayed with me. The claws came loose from the floor, and he pulled his human fingers into fists on his lap. He winced as the teeth receded. The eyes were the last to go, the pale gold fading slowly into his normal hazel. He closed them, his entire body slumping.
I wanted to reach out to him, but with the wulf so close, I didn’t dare touch him.
The others had gathered behind me, watching the process. “Wow,” Danny said.
“Dammit, Nate.” Reese’s voice shook. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “That’s why we’re doing this. You can’t achieve control without losing it first.”
I looked up from Nate’s bowed head to meet Ace’s cold stare. He stood at the door between two of his wulfleng. When our eyes met, I was surprised to see anger in them.
Tension fizzed through the entire group as they realized Ace was there. The wulfan stared only at me.
“Very good, Picasso. Or should I say . . . Freud?”
“My name is Lee.” The words were out before I could stop myself, emerging as a growl from somewhere deep within.
His eyes widened, then narrowed. “If you’re not careful, it won’t matter what your name is.” His glare glowed wulf as he scanned the entire group before turning on his heel and leaving.
Way to blend in, Liam. You idiot. I stood and watched as Nate unfolded himself from the ground in stages.
“You good?”
He nodded, avoiding my eyes.
“Hey.” I waited for his gaze to finally meet mine. “We’re all going there, bud. Don’t sweat it.”
He nodded again.
“Let’s go get some lunch.”
* * *
The seven of us sat in a loose cluster at the table. I had to admit I was getting a little tired of meatloaf, but it was better than the alternative, which was usually stew. Nate ate like he hadn’t seen food in weeks, and Reese stared at him in amazement.
“Way to eat, big guy,” Travis said with a grin. “You could use the groceries.”
Nate grunted, shoving an entire roll into his mouth in one go. Danny laughed and slapped him on the back when the big guy almost choked. Nate stiffened, but I saw him make the effort to accept the gesture of goodwill.
I’d taken a mouthful of meatloaf when I sensed something that sent my wulf scrabbling for release—Sam.
Danny frowned at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just dizzy. Still fighting the fever.” I pushed myself to my feet. “I’m going to crash. I’ll see you guys for the afternoon session?”
The nods around the table barely registered as I left, taking three strides into the hall before I sensed her again.
Wait, love. Cameras lined the halls. I had to get to my room to cover my reactions. No one could guess I had a secret connection to the real world. It had been so long since experiencing it, I’d doubted it myself.
Her relief at finding me alive and whole followed me into the tiny cell where I curled up facing the wall and pulled the thin blanket high around me. I knew the camera saw me, but others still nursed fevers in bed. Sam. My wulf howled for her, and I opened the floodgates, feeling my fangs and claws erupt as I swamped her with the emotions I’d kept contained since our last contact. Relief, love, need, desire. Sam met me halfway with her own tidal wave, matching and then overwhelming mine. Every nerve I possessed burst into flame, and I gasped beneath the covers.
Not just sensations, but images. Blue sky above and water below. Loud vibrating engines. A windscreen. The back of Garrett’s distinctive, perfectly styled dark head as he sat beside the pilot.
We’ve come to find you.
I concentrated, sending her the image of the Red Wolf Air sign and the helicopters.
Affirmation. She’d caught that much from me and found the company and their local Winnipeg office, but not their remote location. I received an impression of Chris riffling through papers in a dark room with a flashlight while Sam tapped on a computer. I take it they’d had no luck.
When I sent her the helicopter visual, I received a negative. The landing field should have shown up on satellite. But Sam hadn’t found it yet.
Not quite ready for you, anyway. I needed to find those in charge, or all this would be wasted effort.
Four days. Her words came through clear.
Yes. Four days until the full moon. I’ll get through. I know she wanted me out by then, but it wouldn’t happen. The answers I needed lay beyond the moon.
A pulse of panic, and I hurried to reassure. I’m fine. I pushed any insecurities I felt down deep. If Sam sensed them, she’d bring the cavalry before I was ready for them. Patience. But my wulf didn’t want to wait. It clawed at me, wanting Sam in the flesh.
I wasn’t the only one fighting their inner beast. I sensed her take a breath, both physically and mentally. You’re okay?
New and improved. I
even have groupies. I had no idea whether the concept carried with the word, so I sent images of Danny, Nate, Lucas, Travis, and Reese. After a moment, I added Keith.
She hesitated. Lost souls.
Yes. I want to keep them safe.
May not be possible. She sent back an image of Dillon.
I swallowed, knowing she was right. What about you? Had the virus taken hold of her? How is Keen?
Keen’s fine. I’m fine. Her impatience with my concern transmitted loud and clear. I felt the plane bank as it turned around. We have to head back. A wave of desperation. I miss you. On the heels of that statement came a fierce longing that stole my breath, before she pounced.
I gasped as she took control and sensed her laugh. Resistance is futile. She stroked me internally from toe tips to scalp, a full body lick of warmth that lit every nerve on fire.
Yes, said the wulf, embracing her presence as it coiled around me and my thoughts lost all coherence. Somewhere in the fog of sensation, her wulf answered mine, twin inner howls that wove together and rose to a crescendo, serenading our merging.
My body no longer belonged to me—Sam had taken possession. It didn’t matter that she was miles away in a plane, I smelled her unique scent and felt the softness of her skin and the warm dampness of her tongue. I writhed beneath the blanket as my physical self danced with my invisible visitor.
I struggled to give back as good as I got, and by the mental moans and gasps drifting through my mind, I achieved a certain level of success. And when I finally stiffened and cried out, I knew she’d come undone too.
I hoped Garrett kept his eyes facing forward. Even covered as I was, I gave anyone watching my camera quite the show. I could only hope they interpreted it as me wrestling with my beast rather than Sam’s.
Afterward, I lay still beneath the cover and reached for her—empty physically, but emotionally replete—my wulf, for the moment, sated and content. Already, her presence faded, as the plane carried her away.