by Sarah Noffke
“Well, I don’t care if you say I’m now a Dream Traveler, I’m not giving up meat,” Rio said.
Zephyr cast him a brief glance and offered a smile. “Nor am I. We will go out for steak later.”
“Oh, it sounds like a date,” Rox said, winking at Zephyr. “I’m thoroughly jealous.”
“So I know you, Z, explained all this werewolf business and the Ludtidites, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Why would they want to help us?” Rio said.
“Lucidites,” Zephyr corrected. “And I’ve been here longer than any other werewolf, and it still doesn’t make any sense. Just wait, because things are going to get stranger before any clarity comes.”
From a few paces behind the group of three, Kris strolled, undetected by human or werewolf eye. It had been fairly easy to slip onto the submarine in invisible form. What had been difficult was to hold in the sneeze that had tried to escape during the long submarine ride. Someone should tell the blonde wearing skinny jeans that less perfume was more.
Kris had enjoyed the opportunity to sit down once on the submarine. Waiting at the dry docks for the right submarine, the one Drake had described belonging to the Lucidites, hadn’t been pleasant. However, she’d been rewarded for her efforts and now she knew the underwater top secret place had rescued another werewolf. Mika wouldn’t see it as rescuing, but rather stealing. But she knew that the men had been abducted, since she’d been a part of that collaboration. It hadn’t felt like the right thing to do, but when a powerful man is threatening to undo one’s invisibility by severing their spinal cord then one will comply. Kris hadn’t realized all she was signing up for when she agreed to the invisibility project. The money had been nice, and the missions, like sneaking into the Pentagon, were actually quite fun. She just had to overlook which way her morale indicator was pointing, which was becoming increasingly more difficult.
Listening to Zephyr and the girl explain the situation to Rio had been the perfect orientation for Kris. Things really couldn’t have been going more smoothly. She was in the Institute, discovering useful information, and one step closer to uncovering the process for teleporting. Mika would reward her with loads more cash for completing this project because as many bad things as she could say about him, he was generous when the time came to pay up.
Kris paused in the silver and blue hallway when the group did. Oh, great, an elevator, she thought as she boarded, sliding in behind the guy who smelled of gin and sweat.
“Earlier you said that there were more werewolves. How many are here?” Rio said, looking at Zephyr.
“Kaleb is here. You’ll like him, and wait until you see his gift. It’s as cool as super strength,” Zephyr said.
“Thanks, man,” Rio said, a dimple surfacing on his cheek when he smiled.
“Unfortunately, we had Connor, but he decided to go off on his own,” Zephyr said, frustration creasing his brow.
“Maybe he just popped out for some meat,” Rio said with a chuckle.
“Or maybe he changed into a werewolf and attacked the girl you’re about to meet who is also your boss,” the girl with the blonde hair said.
“Oh, dude, so he ran away, did he?” Rio said.
“Yeah, but we’re going to find him. You’re going to help me,” Zephyr said.
Rio nodded proudly. “I know exactly how that feels too. I accidentally shot another officer who was in the line of fire. It only grazed his arm, but the guilt ate me up for a while.”
“Yes, it’s good you get it. And actually we’re due to change, so let’s hurry up this meeting,” Zephyr said, holding the elevator open for the others to exit first.
Kris walked behind them, the smile on her face victorious. Connor was out there again. Mika would be delighted to hear this.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Adelaide said, looking over Rio. “Where the fuck are we supposed to keep him? He’s bigger than a gorilla.” She turned her attention to her boss, Trent. “I think we’re going to have to make the safe room bigger.”
Trent shook his head, as he usually did when regarding Adelaide. “Welcome to the Institute, Rio. I’m the head of the strategic department and this is Adelaide, the supervising agent on your case.”
Rio took the guy’s hand at once, shaking it. “I think I’m happy to be here. Beats working as a bouncer and I’m pumped to work on this case after hearing about it from Zephyr.”
“Oh good, you filled him in,” Adelaide said. “You’re not as worthless as Lipstick,” she added, indicating Rox.
“Read the Dream Traveler Codex you’ll find in your room. It will fill in many details that I couldn’t cover,” Zephyr said.
“Look, Runt-the-Time-Stopper is here,” Adelaide said, when Kaleb entered. He looked too happy, and it was probably because Aiden had gushed over his talent for most of the day. However, even she admitted that now being able to stop time, along with knowing the future, was going to be super helpful. Although Kaleb could only pause time for up to a minute, it would still come in handy in cases.
“Leave the nickname creations to me,” Kaleb said. “I’m way better at it.”
“Shut your bloody mouth and come lick the butt of our newest werewolf, or whatever you dogs do as far as greetings go,” Adelaide said.
“This is Rio,” Zephyr said, extending his hand and slapping the large testosterone-filled man on the shoulder. “Meet Kaleb.”
The two exchanged handshakes, but the look on Zephyr’s face was what caught Adelaide’s attention. He appeared about how she pictured a father looked when reunited with his children. She’d noticed it before with him. It was like the fuller the pack got, the more confident the alpha wolf grew.
“Okay, I think it’s time for you all to run along to your kennel for the night. You’re supposed to change,” Adelaide said, waving them forward. “We will be monitoring you for the change, but to make my job easier, please do something besides drool on yourself. A good werewolf fight will be rewarded. I might even bring in some Spam for the winner.”
Rio laughed, seeming more endeared by the jokes than Zephyr was initially. “Well, you two better watch out because I’ll take canned meat over nothing,” he said.
The group filed out, Zephyr and Rox lingering at the back.
Kris watched the redhead lead the two werewolves out of the strategic department. Zephyr paused, cutting off the blonde from the group. She smiled up at him, a totally over-the-top flirtatious grin. Her eyes drifted to the group, which had left the area, and then she returned to looking at the guy with silver and black hair.
“After the change,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Tomorrow, maybe… if you want…”
“Is this your way of saying you want me to take off your clothes tomorrow?” she said, placing a hand on his chest.
He shook his head but a slight smile shone through on his mouth, even under the short beard. “No, you easy vixen. I was thinking that I’ve sunk so low I’d settle for some time with you. If nothing else maybe it will appease the wolf or bore him to death,” he said.
“I think I know what the wolf wants and exactly how to appease him,” Rox said, and trailed her hand down Zephyr’s chest before stepping around him and walking out of the room.
Zephyr released a long breath, his chin down by his chest, and then followed the girl out.
Kris stepped out from her place in the corner. This was where she’d find out the information on teleporting, and her instinct told her that staying close to Adelaide was exactly how she’d unlock that information and a lot more. That girl knew more than all the rest. It was written in her green eyes and probably inside that brown leather book she had in her grasp during that entire meeting.
Chapter Eighteen
“Due to the nature of the backgrounds of the men abducted, search efforts for the men were disbanded after roughly three months.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
A hypnic jerk yanked Hugo out of his sleep. He’d had the involuntary twitches often when falling
off to sleep and they were always preceded by one thing. Knowing that he only had a few minutes, he swung his legs over the side of the modest bed and pulled on his boots.
Stay here, he said to the malamute that startled from his sudden movements. Stay away from me, he said, looking at the animal deep in the eyes.
Yes, okay, the dog answered back in Hugo’s head, but his eyes looked remorseful, like staying behind was the last thing he wanted to do.
I’ll be back at sunrise, Hugo said, and exited the one-room cabin, shutting his best friend, Thomas inside.
The half-moon hung high in the Oklahoma sky, which was wide with bright stars since no streetlights polluted the area. Something in Hugo made him halt when all he wanted was to run, sprint forward through the fields and straight into the forest by the stream. The chickens were asleep in their shed, well protected from the coyotes that roamed the prairies, thanks to the fencing he’d just installed. However, the chickens weren’t safe from him, or rather, what he was about to become. Hugo’s nostrils widened as the scent of feathers and meat turned a key inside of him. The worst part was that he’d spoken to the chickens, heard their delight about the new space. What would they say in his mind when he feasted on them?
“No!” he yelled to the clear, raw night. “No!” And Hugo set off at once, taking control before he knew that option was lost to him. If he just got far enough away—if he just got to the other side of the stream before the change happened—then his home would be safe.
It wasn’t that he hated the wolf. Actually, he respected it and they spoke often, always relating in strange, but meaningful ways. Hugo understood the wolf was purely operating on instinct, the way the animals on his farm had. However, the farm animals didn’t own an unfair power that could murder animal and man alike. And even the coyotes could be stopped, or measures put into place to prevent their destructions. But the wolf, it was more powerful than Hugo or anything he’d ever encountered. He was powerless to the beast, and understanding it only made his struggle more real.
The surface of the stream, glistening from the filtered moonlight overhead, was just in view when the wolf broke free. Hugo didn’t stop or even slow as the claws punctured his fingers, sliding out to their full length. His clothes always stayed in place, not too displaced by the fibers that slipped through the pores of his hands and arms. But the fangs—when they sank down an inch out of his mouth he always lost momentary control, thinking he’d become sick with disgust. To feel the sharp teeth press against each other inside his mouth was the most unnatural part of the transformation.
The werewolf, fresh to this world since the last change and with no memory of what Hugo had seen, hunched down low and cried its excitement to the night in one giant howl. It was free. It was in its element, the woods. And it was hungry. The werewolf crouched, smelling the air as it did, its sharp eyes seeing clear through the dark forest. It grew silent for a moment, only its quick panting to be heard. Hugo knew it was sensing, deciding in which direction the best prospects lay. And although he sometimes heard the wolf in his head, he didn’t know exactly how the animal thought. Its instincts and impulses were still something Hugo was learning. They were connected and yet divided. There were things Hugo couldn’t see about the wolf, about like how the wolf seemed to go blind when not changed. It never had much a sense or care for Hugo’s world.
And Hugo was surprised when the wolf launched forward and jumped, easily clearing the fifteen-foot stream. Running with his shoulders down, he sped through the woods, navigating around trees and moving so his vision blurred, but the wolf knew where it was going. The sight before Hugo only came into view when the werewolf dived, just as a deer turned its head over its shoulder.
Before anything registered completely for Hugo or the deer, the wolf had its teeth sunk deep into the animal’s neck, its body forcing it to the ground. There the werewolf kept its mouth sunk into the blood-drenched neck of the deer, its claws pressed deep into the animal, forcing it into submission. Soon the fear response made the deer stop fighting, and then the werewolf unhinged its jaw and dove straight back in for the kill, ripping through veins and flesh. It was the strangest experience Hugo had ever had, being both violently repulsed by his own actions and yet satisfied in a way he’d never known before.
Chapter Nineteen
“Although brain wave monitoring has proven that the subjects are displaying tendencies toward Dream Travelers, they haven’t shown any signs of full conversion. No psychic or super powers have been displayed, as well.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
Sweat slipped down Orion’s forehead and splattered on the dusty wood floor. The padlock was in place and the key well hidden, but that didn’t mean he was ready for what was about to happen next. How could he ever be ready for the things the wolf did when unleashed inside of him? The animal would take over, change him and exhaust his already taxed mind with desires he couldn’t satisfy. The werewolf wanted out of the apartment. So badly did that monster want to prowl the streets. It would give up after an hour of two and tear through the half refrigerator in the corner and the modest contents of the pantry. Orion couldn’t even fathom that in his old life, the one almost better than this one, he’d been a vegetarian. He had found the texture of meat unpleasant, but now that had dramatically changed. Every few days, when he’d breathed through the anxiety sufficiently, he exited his room and spent the money that was running out on cheap cuts of meat, usually the stuff on the discount racks that was about to go bad. It didn’t taste good to him, but it made the wolf happy, which was a small victory.
Tonight what would the werewolf do? It had threatened in his mind to jump from the third-story window. He knew that in werewolf form he could probably land safely on the awning or scale to the roof. Dying from the fall wasn’t what scared Orion. It was what the werewolf would do if free to roam on the streets. He’d heard the passing thoughts of the wolf. It didn’t just want meat, it longed to hunt, to tear into flesh that still had a beating pulse. Orion cringed inside, releasing a small weeping sound at the thought of murdering someone. He had to stop the wolf. If he didn’t then Mrs. Wilson would probably grow too suspicious and call the authorities. His chances with her were running out. His chances in general were diddling.
Orion stood from the sofa bed, thinking he might pass out. Inside the wolf was panting, longing for what would happen in the next few minutes. It knew it was about to be freed, like a dog seeing the leash after a long day of being cooped up. However, the wolf only sensed freedom approaching. It still didn’t have its eyes and ears in the present. The horrible animal didn’t know that Orion would rather die than to allow the wolf to ruin lives. Even Orion’s own preservation wasn’t enough of a concern anymore. He’d never had a life worth caring much about. Actually his existence was a quiet suffering, prolonged by adequate healthcare and a system that wouldn’t give up on him. Now he didn’t have any of that though.
The counter bar, which served as both a kitchen prep area and the entertainment center, held an odd assortment of items. A small black-and-white TV sat on the far end and was currently playing a rerun of Andy Griffith. Littering the middle were some condiments, a cutting board, paper towels, plastic forks, and a bag of week-old bread. On the far end was a set of knives, magnetically held to a strip on the wall. It had been the one indulgence Orion had splurged on, knowing plastic cutlery wasn’t going to do the job for his daily meat consumption.
Flinching as he did, he pulled the butcher’s knife off the wall. It came away with a soft chirping sound that reminded him of a sparrow. He’d always liked sparrows; they were small and unassuming. Kind of the wallflower of the bird world. Orion wished he was one now. You’re stalling, he told himself. And it was true. The wolf would be here at any moment. He couldn’t delay.
The knife vibrated in his hand, looking like it might fly loose, as if he was holding it on a turbulent airplane. Still he steadied himself by pinning his hand palm down on the cutting board si
tting in the middle of the shelf.
I can do this. I have to. I need to do this, he repeated again and again in his head. A tear poked to the surface of one eye and then spilled down, landing on his arm. He looked at it with blurry vision to see the sight that had grown too familiar. The pores of his skin widened and then the tiny, sharp hairs started to rise to the surface. “No,” Orion said in a hush and before he could give it another moment of thought he brought the cleaver straight down, severing his fingers at the knuckles. The pain tore him off his feet and he tumbled over, losing the knife, which clattered to the ground beside him. With desperate inhales he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest. He wouldn’t have the strength to sever the other hand, but the good news was the pain was blinding him, like a burn wrapping his hand in unending fire. Orion wanted, needed, to cry out, but he kept his mouth pinned shut. You’ve been weak your whole life, in this moment be strong. We are that much closer to ending the beast, he told himself.
He opened eyes spilling with tears to see the hairs now lining his arms. The claws had pierced through his other hand, but he hadn’t felt any of the change because his pain was too great. But he’d been successful at stopping one change, he thought, holding his bleeding hand to his chest, cradling it like one would a baby. And then Orion won against the beast and fell into a sleep that one only receives after a great sacrifice.
Chapter Twenty
“Six months after the twelve men were abducted, the first werewolf sighting was reported in San Diego, California.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
“This case has brought more interesting subjects to my lab than ever before,” Aiden said, studying the computer readout report.