by Sarah Noffke
“I’ve determined that Drake used the Dream Traveler conversion protocol he stole from your lab to change the men,” Adelaide said to the doctor, who was scribbling notes on a pad. “Zephyr has described him and I’m confident he’s behind this.”
“So you’re a Dream Traveler now,” Trey said. The man had a weight in his green eyes, one that Zephyr had seen on men who’d been in war.
“I guess so. I have strange dreams and x-ray vision. Adelaide and Rox seemed to think that was the indication that I’ve been converted,” Zephyr said.
“And Rox is…?” Trent said, now noticing the girl wasn’t present.
“Probably dead,” Adelaide chirped.
“She stayed behind to cover our exit,” Zephyr said.
“Well, I’m confident she’ll return soon, but I’ve got my agents at the lab now. If she’s there or has been taken then they’ll be able to help hopefully,” Trent said.
“Adelaide,” Trey said, turning his bright green eyes on the girl. “I want you to train Zephyr in dream traveling. He’s going to need to know the laws and be able to use his skills appropriately. Furthermore, help him to hone his skills and determine if there are any dormant ones.”
“Shouldn’t I be working on the werewolf case? I’m not really well versed on skills assessment,” Adelaide said.
“You were taught skills management by the very best and I trust that your father’s instructions—”
“Fine, I’ll train the dog,” she said, cutting him off.
“How’s the guy we brought in from the lab?” Zephyr said.
“The healing department is looking after him. He’s malnourished, but they think he’ll make a full recovery. He had been locked in that cell for the last five weeks,” Trent said.
Because of me… Zephyr thought. He had run, run before he checked to ensure everyone was freed. This was on him.
“Adelaide you’re going to need to question him as soon as he’s stable,” Trent said to her.
“Zephyr, I’d like you to come by my lab so I can take samples and run you through some tests,” Aiden said, and he had a light tone to his voice. “I promise it won’t hurt. I know you’ve been through a major ordeal and the tests I run are only to help me better understand what’s been done to you.”
And Zephyr noticed the strangest quality of sincerity to the guy’s words. He really did appear sympathetic. And more than that, Zephyr, after everything he’d been through, found it easy to nod at the requests. “Okay,” he said, wondering if Adelaide was right and everyone was nice at the Institute. The Head Official, Trey Underwood, sure seemed to be regarding Zephyr with a thoughtful expression. He appeared like no leader Zephyr had ever met. There wasn’t a presence of superiority, only quiet reassurance.
“Good,” Aiden said with a squeak. “I’m thinking that if I can understand what’s happened to you I might be able to—”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Trey said, cutting Aiden off.
“Wait. What? What might you be able to do?” Zephyr said, leaning forward, caught by the enthusiastic look in Aiden’s eyes. The one the scientist was now trying to suppress.
He exchanged a look with the man beside him and when Trey conceded with a nod, Aiden smiled, showing his teeth. “I think it’s possible that I might be able to reverse whatever they’ve done to you. I think I might be able to make you human once more.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“If a mission is worthy of our attention, then it is worthy of our full attention.”
- Lucidite Employee Manual
Smoke laced with the delicious smell of barbecued meat wafted through the streets of downtown Salt Lake City. It was overwhelming. An inescapable smell. One that made Kaleb feel overwhelmed with his desire for the protein. The last time he’d changed he’d had rabbit, but that didn’t suffice. The wolf always wanted meat even when he wasn’t changed.
The smoke spiraled in the air, circling the buildings and creating a cloud overhead in the streets. With his hands tucked into his jacket pockets Kaleb slid around a brick building and stood behind a pillar. Clogging the street in front of him were various barbecue stalls set up. They lined the street and seemed to go on for blocks. Smokers, grills, and rotisseries were arranged in the front and center of each of the tents. Men with gloved hands chopped brisket and chiseled slices off roasted pigs. Patrons lined up at the different stalls, hands held out ready to take the samples of juicy meat delivered on paper plates. Kaleb ran his eyes over the street fair, wondering what the purpose of the event was. Then his eyes caught a poster on a neighboring pillar. At the top in bright red letters it said:
“Carnivore Festival. FREE Meat!”
Why would anyone give away free meat? he wondered. Still, the smell was intoxicating and he’d been constantly hungry since he hadn’t been able to return to the soup kitchen. The prospect of filling up on steak dripping in its own juices had a weird effect on Kaleb. It made him feel younger again, not weighed down by the reality that he was a homeless man with a beast locked inside of him. He smiled to himself, thinking that maybe he was getting a break for once. Then he stepped out from behind the pillar and straight into the nearest line. A man with a full black beard laughed as he deposited a roasted turkey leg wrapped in foil into a boy’s hand. Beside the man was an aluminum tray lined with charred turkey legs, grease making them dazzle in the morning sunlight.
“Here you go,” the man said, handing off another leg. Now Kaleb was only two people away from the front. He’d tear the meat off the bone while he waited in the next line where tri tip was being served fresh off the grill.
“Haven’t you already been through this line?” the man joked to the couple in front of him who both took a turkey leg.
Kaleb couldn’t wait to get his mouth around the skin of that leg, to rip it off the bone and partially chew it before swallowing and going in for another bite.
At his back there was the noise of the crowd. Children laughing. Grills sizzling. But then there was a radio. A distinct static. Kaleb turned his head over his shoulder to spy the crowd at his back. He spun back, his hand extended to grab the turkey leg being offered, and then he caught it out of his peripheral. A guard dressed in black. But not a normal guard, rather one he recognized. Mr. Black Flattop. Instantly he tore off to the left, pushing straight through the crowds gathered in front of barbecue stands. He didn’t like that he pushed people down on his way through the hordes of strangers. Kaleb worried that one might have been pushed up close to a hot grill. But he knew he had to get away no matter what. With a look over his shoulder he saw the approaching forces. Three guards. He swiveled his head forward and came to an abrupt halt. Guards all dressed in black stood flanking the next intersection. The festival had been a trap. And he stupidly fell for it. Kaleb turned toward the side street, but the guards were everywhere. He was cornered.
Not even knowing if the shop was open behind him he sprinted for the door. Relief flooded him when the door to the antique store opened, making a chime sound. Employing his super speed he negotiated around the dusty furniture and racks of vintage dresses. His ears caught the sound of the guards charging through the door, their boots making more noise on the aged wood floors than he did in his soft-soled sneakers. Kaleb passed a banister leading up to a second story. He momentarily considered taking that route, but didn’t want to get stuck in a dead end. What propelled him forward more than that was a large oversized shelf dusted with knickknacks. Once he passed the solid oak shelf he veered and rammed into the back of it. It teetered first, but with another assault the shelf lost its balance, crashing down forward. He knew from the screams that at least one guard had been caught by the impact. The others had their path obstructed by the domino effect the crash caused and the cloud of dust that exploded into the air.
Knowing he had no time to spare he took full advantage of the distraction and sped to the back of the shop, where a bewildered shop owner was holding a roast beef sandwich and staring at his destroye
d shop with his mouth wide. Kaleb grabbed the sandwich out of the man’s hand and continued on, bolting through the back door and into the alley. He tucked the sandwich into his pocket and then slid the nearest dumpster in front of the door. This would only slow down the guards and he knew that. That’s why he climbed onto the dumpster and made a silent prayer to himself before leaping off the top of it and straight at the closed fire ladder on the opposite wall. It wasn’t too far of a jump if he was in wolf form, but it was a risk in the current state. So he was surprised when his hands grabbed the sharp bars of the cage around the ladder. Pulling himself up, he high-stepped his foot until it found the first bar and then he made quick work over the cage and up to the ladder. Kaleb was clear and on the roof by the time the guards pushed through the door. He looked out at the crowded streets. Meat might have looked like an enticing option, but he knew what they were really offering down below. Captivity. He pulled the still warm roast beef sandwich from his pocket and set off for the next set of roofs, hoping to escape by staying on high ground.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Employees should hold their commitment, both in time and in labor, as firstly belonging to Olento Research Corp.”
- Olento Research Employee Manual
“Why is it that twice you’ve had Kaleb Magner cornered and twice you’ve allowed him to slip away?” Mika said, his voice low but full of a heat meant to scorch from the inside out.
“Sir, with all due respect, he’s fast. Much faster than any of my guards, even when he’s not in werewolf form. And you want him unharmed, which means we have to capture him,” Grant said, his eyes low and burdened with shame.
“If I might,” Drake said from his place perched at the back of Mika’s office. He’d been pretending to look over his notes, but he was always eavesdropping because he didn’t know where his place was at Olento Research Corp. Mika would have to fix that. “Allow isn’t the right word. Grant’s team hasn’t allowed Kaleb to slip away, but rather have been foiled each—”
“Shut up, Drake,” Mika said, cutting him off. The old man loved to argue semantics and it was quite possibly going to get him killed if Mika found a scientist to replace him, one that didn’t speak out of turn. He spun his wicked stare on the man standing before his desk. “I spent a sizable sum of money putting on that bogus festival only to lose our chance to grab Kaleb. How do you think that makes me feel, Grant?”
“I’m certain you’re very disappointed but—”
“Disappointed doesn’t even begin to express my feelings on your constant failures,” Mika said, again interrupting one of his employees. He didn’t know why they said as much as they did when most had been told to keep answers brief when in his company.
“But sir, we were able to determine that Kaleb is still in Salt Lake City and I’m certain that information is of value to you, right?” Grant said, hope injected into his tone.
“That’s about like saying if you hadn’t had a car wreck then you wouldn’t have discovered your tire pressure was low,” Mika said, his mouth hardly parting for the words. “You had a car wreck and there is no saving grace in that. I already assumed Kaleb was in Salt Lake City, hence the God damn meat festival.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Do you want me to continue to work this case?” Grant said, his tone careful.
“Yes, until I can engineer replacements. Keep surveillance on all places where Kaleb could possibly show up.” He knew that this wasn’t entirely Grant’s fault, although he wasn’t about to let his director of security off easily for his blunder. He was expecting Middling men to capture a genetically superior machine. One who had incredible speed, senses, endurance, and quite possibly a psychic gift. He refused to recruit Dream Travelers for his security team. They usually didn’t want to be his henchmen anyway, which was the reason he’d been funding ventures like Project Canis Lupus. Dream Travelers had an awful knack for wanting to do great things, rather than be soldiers who followed orders. And honestly, he didn’t trust Dream Travelers. They always had the potential of becoming more powerful than Mika, which was why he surrounded himself with Middlings whom he could intimidate. But he was working on programs to develop guards who were stronger and faster, and who could potentially catch the werewolves.
“Why are you still standing there?” he said to Grant, his voice suddenly loud. This produced a startled expression from the man, who spun around and marched for the exit at once.
“So the Lucidites quite possibly have two of your werewolves,” Drake said, striding forward, taking the place where Grant had stood. It was never acceptable to sit when in Mika’s presence. Mika sat. Others stood. Others served him.
Mika didn’t appreciate that Drake sounded almost patronizing with his statement. “How do I get into their headquarters?” Mika said, choosing to ignore the revolting slight smile on Drake’s face.
“You can’t. It’s more heavily guarded than Olento Research Corp,” Drake said.
“You do know your place here, don’t you?” Mika’s words bolted out of his mouth.
The smile on Drake’s face widened. “When I was invited into the Lucidite Institute to assist with projects I was sedated, blindfolded, and then transported. I don’t remember much of the experience. That’s how serious they take their security.”
“However, you were able to steal research and leave the Institute,” Mika said, so on edge that he was close to violence.
“Yes, the head scientist, Dr. Aiden Livingston, proved to be a very trusting individual, so stealing the research was easy. However, when I left there I had to make a request to the transport department and again they followed the same protocol as when I entered the Institute,” Drake said.
“So you have no idea where the headquarters are located?” Mika said, his voice reeking of displeasure.
“You ordered me to steal research, not to determine the location,” Drake said, with a disinterested shrug.
“And God forbid you take initiative to do anything above what I ask,” Mika said.
“Did you have the girl from the labs followed?” Drake asked.
“That’s none of your concern,” Mika said, anger boiling more wildly now. He had in fact had her followed, which was why he’d let her go at all. Mika had hoped she’d lead him to the werewolves, but so far she hadn’t led his spies anywhere, which was why he was interrogating the old German man.
“It’s unfortunate that we had two werewolves in the lab and they both got away. But even more unfortunate was that one was in the cell all along and we missed it,” Drake said, his tone contradicting his words.
The break-in had triggered the alarms, which was why Mika and the guards had shown up to the lab which he thought would remain abandoned until it was safe to gut it. However, once he was back in the labs he’d had the security review the camera footage and found that Connor Luce had been locked in his cell the entire time. It had gone unnoticed after the breakout and when the forensic team did their work. Everything had been too rushed due to Mika’s fear that the authorities would be brought in by one of the werewolves seeking retribution. The last thing his other corporation, Parantaa Research, needed was bad press. His work at Olento wouldn’t last six months without the funding from the other corporation.
He slammed his fist on the desk. This was unacceptable. Mika was unaccustomed to losing, to making mistakes. And now he was failing at every turn. He swiveled his smoldering gaze up to Drake. “Get back to work. And I don’t want to see you again until you can bring me good news for once!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“The ‘how’ of any solution will appear if one’s attention is only on the goal.”
- Lucidite Employee Manual
“So is he going to die?” Adelaide said from the far end of the infirmary, her eyes on the only occupied bed.
Dr. Parker turned and glanced at the patient fiddling with the IV wires attached to his hand. “Uhhhh, no. He’s going to be fine,” he said. At the Lucidite Institute there were doctors an
d also healers. Dr. Parker was recruited by Adelaide’s father a year ago, and still the polite guy didn’t usually get her jokes. Maybe it was because his Dream Traveler gift was quick retention of complex information, also known as super intelligence. Adelaide reasoned that all the information in his brain deprived him of a proper sense of humor.
“I’d like him to stay in the infirmary for one more day for observation and then I’ll release him,” Dr. Parker said, scribbling something on a paper clamped to a clipboard.
She eyed the doctor, who was Korean and always wore his thick hair gelled back. His polished appearance made him stick out in the Institute, which was overly casual due to the Head Official, Trey Underwood’s, hippie style.
“Can I ask him hard questions that might make him cry or is he too emotionally unstable for that? I don’t want him lashing out at me,” Adelaide said, now watching Connor, who was also watching her.
Again there wasn’t a laugh, only a narrowed look behind Dr. Parker’s glasses. “I think it’s always wise to go easy on a person who has been held captive for such a lengthy period of time. You can question him though. Just use your instinct with how you proceed,” Dr. Parker said.
“Thanks, doc. As always, an interaction with you has left me bored and with a total sense of lack,” Adelaide said, walking past the doctor and over to Connor’s bed.
“I heard you ask him if I was going to die,” Connor said when she paused a few feet from him.
Adelaide had been on the far side of the room when she’d been talking to Dr. Parker. Connor’s senses were already strong, although there had been concern that they wouldn’t operate yet based on his condition.
“Well, unfortunately you’re strong enough to pull through and therefore one day prove to be a drain on the Lucidite Institute and our vast resources. No doubt babysitting you mutts is going to monopolize my life,” Adelaide said, realizing they’d skipped introductions and that was probably for the best.