"I don't like smart-asses," he said with an edge to his voice that made me wonder if he'd gone off the deep end.
"I don't like stupid questions. My fur? I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're saying you're not a werewolf?"
I rolled my eyes. "You still think they really exist?"
"I know they do. Do you know Devlin?"
Who didn't? He was Lucas's brother. The one who'd betrayed us. He was dead now, but Mason obviously didn't know that. I wasn't about to enlighten him. "Of course, I do. He's a certified nut job."
Mason smiled. "He told me that werewolves live in this area. We caught one. Lucas."
I arched a brow, pleased that I was able to give a cocky facade when I was actually pretty scared. "Lucas is a werewolf? You've, like, what? Seen him go all furry?"
Mason's expression became defensive and mulish. "No, but Devlin told me. And the wolfs fur…it was the same shade as Lucas's hair, which you have to admit is a fairly unusual combination of colors."
"Doesn't mean it was Lucas. I mean, really, listen to yourself. Werewolves?"
"I know the sherpas are werewolves. You're a sherpa, so don't deny it. I know it's how you protect your secrets within the national forest, how you keep outsiders from getting in. You control where campers and hikers can go."
He knew a lot more than I'd given him credit for.
"How many ways can I say this? Werewolves don't exist." It was the mantra Shifters were sworn to repeat. How else could they keep their existence a secret?
"You're going to shift for me, one way or a—"
"She's human," someone said.
Mason twisted around. "Are you sure?"
I looked past Mason to see Ethan striding toward us. He'd been part of the group we'd led into the forest earlier in the summer. He was so pale that we'd pegged him for the indoor type right away but we hadn't thought anything about it since Dr. Keane had claimed he was taking his biology students into the wilderness to study it.
"Blood doesn't lie," Ethan said. "Hers is human."
They'd taken my blood without me knowing? The bastards' I didn't think I'd ever be as grateful as I was at that moment that my mom had slept with a Static.
"But the other one"—Ethan grinned—"bingo'"
"What other one?" I asked, dread tightening my stomach.
With a smile as broad as Ethan's, Mason glanced over to the side. I followed his gaze. That's when I saw their other prisoner, lying on the ground, with his hands tied behind his back, his ankles bound together, and his eyes closed.
Connor'
TEN
"We've got ourselves a werewolf," Ethan said.
"Are you sure?" Mason asked again.
"Oh yeah. There's a little bit of human, but mostly it's wolf."
I felt everything within me sink into despair.
"You don't seem surprised by the revelation that he's a werewolf," Mason said.
I jerked my gaze up to his. In retrospect, I suppose I should have had some sort of stunned reaction, a gasp, an "Oh my God," but I'd been too worried about Connor. Connor, on the other hand, would have taken offense at being referred to as a werewolf. He was a Shifter. I shored up my bravado. "I'm simply at a loss for words. Your little group is beyond insane—"
He sliced his hand through the air, nearly hitting my nose, cutting off my words. "Save it," he said. "The proof is in the blood."
Which hopefully could be explained away as…I didn't know what, but surely as something. That was all they'd ever have. I knew Connor would never shift in front of them. He'd never confirm what they suspected. No matter what they did to him.
My blood suddenly chilled with the thought of what they might have in mind for him.
"All righty, then. Let's pack up," Mason suddenly barked.
"What about the girl?" Neanderthal asked. "Let her go?"
"No," Mason said in a tone that was normally used when addressing idiots. "She'll tell the others. She comes with us. Besides, I have a feeling we can use her to get what we want from the werewolf."
As Neanderthal wrapped his beefy hand around my arm and lifted me to my feet icy fear ripped through me. Connor wasn't the only one in danger. I didn't even want to contemplate what Mason had in mind for me.
They dumped us in the back of the van, slammed the door closed, and locked it. Other doors closed as people got in. Mason looked over the backseat at us. His expression reminded me of hunters admiring the deer they'd shot. "Don't try anything. Johnson here has a stun gun and a tranquilizer gun."
I could see the back of Johnson's head. I wasn't surprised to discover he was the Neanderthal. A guy who could have passed for his twin was driving. Ethan was in the front passenger seat.
"Where are we going?" I asked Mason.
"The lab. It'll make it easier to study wolf boy."
"What is it you want to learn?"
"Didn't Kayla tell you?"
She had, but I was hoping to stall for time. Maybe someone would come across us before they drove off. I gave what I hoped was a pitiful shake of my head.
"Whatever causes him to shift"—he jerked his head toward Connor—"I want to know how it works and recreate it. The ramifications for medicine and the military are astronomical. Not to mention the recreational uses. If you could take a pill and be a werewolf for an hour, wouldn't you?"
I turned my head away because I didn't want him to see how badly I wanted what he might one day be offering.
"Let's go," he said.
The van started up and was soon bouncing over the road. They had the windows rolled down and the wind whipping through made it difficult to hear their exact words. As much as I strained, all I could hear was the droning of their voices.
Then I heard, "What the f—"
"Shh," I whispered, my face only a couple of inches away from Connor's. There was light coming from the dash, the moon, the stars, maybe even streetlights…I didn't know. Or maybe my eyes had just adjusted to the gloom but I could see his features through the shadows.
"Brittany?" he questioned in a low voice.
"Yeah." I saw the whites of his eyes as he rolled them upward, trying to see. "Mason," I said, striving to keep as quiet as possible. With the wind drowning out our voices maybe we could figure out an escape plan without them hearing us.
I could see Connor straining against his bindings. "Save your strength," I suggested.
With a low grunt, he gave up. "I can't believe they got the drop on me."
"I can't either." Surely he would have smelled them before they got too close. "How—"
"They shot me with something."
Thinking of the wolf in the woods, I realized they'd probably used a tranquilizer dart on Connor. I didn't know why they'd decided to take the close approach with me. Maybe they'd run out of darts. I was crushed that they'd overpowered me so easily. Connor had been right. No matter how much I'd prepared, I hadn't been fully prepared.
"Any ideas for how we get out of here?" I asked.
"Guess we try to convince them that we're not werewolves."
They'd already figured that out about me, but Connor didn't know that. I thought about telling him, but I was still reeling from my shame over my mixed parentage. "They tested our blood. It's not human." One truth, one lie. His wasn't human. I wasn't yet ready to say out loud that mine was.
I heard the frustration in his groan. Then I was acutely aware of him shifting, not into wolf, but into warrior mode. His shifting into a wolf might mean he could escape, but it would also confirm for them the existence of our kind. Besides, transforming while he was still bound would have been difficult, and I wasn't certain it would free him from the restraints. I could see him studying our surroundings and recognizing the futility of our present predicament. A time might come when we could escape, but it wasn't now.
"This sucks," Connor hissed beneath his breath. Then he looked at me. "Are you hurt?" His voice reflected genuine concern.
"Just my pride."
>
He flashed a grin, and I was amazed that he was able to do it considering our dire circumstances. "You'll survive."
I thought about the bruising his pride had taken over Lindsey hooking up with Rafe. "We both will."
One way or another.
"How many?" he asked, and I knew he was talking about our captors.
"Four. Mason, Ethan and two badass-looking dudes."
"Must be the hired mercenaries."
Even with the shadows, I could see the determination in Connor's features as he contemplated how best to take them on.
"They have guns," I felt compelled to tell him.
He gave a little nod. He wasn't surprised.
"I think we're stuck here for now, until we reach our destination anyway. They're taking us to the lab."
Connor nodded again, even though I knew he wasn't happy with my assessment. Neither was I but we had to face the reality if we wanted any chance at survival.
I was afraid that Mason might be able to hear us—although it seemed unlikely with the wind rushing through. But I didn't trust him. Connor must have felt the same way because he scooted across the short distance that separated us and pressed his forehead against mine.
"It's going to be okay, Brittany." He brushed his lips across my cheek. The warmth of his nearness chased off the chill of fear that had gripped me ever since I'd realized that Mason had caught Connor as well. I was beyond caring what happened to me, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to Connor.
Especially when we were lying so close together. The timing really sucked but I couldn't help but wonder what might happen if we were alone in this position with no one around and our hands unbound. I imagined him undoing my braid. I could see me shaking out my hair. I envisioned us doing all the things my mother constantly warned me not to do until I was older, until I was in a committed relationship. For this small space of time, with us lying so still, I felt as though anything was possible between us. I wanted so badly to be unbound so I could touch him.
His mouth was so near my lips that if I turned my head just a fraction of an inch we'd be able to kiss. I squeezed my eyes closed. How could I be thinking about us getting intimate when we were in danger of losing our lives? Maybe it was because we might die that I suddenly wanted to experience all the passions of life that I hadn't had until now.
I wanted everything: his kiss, his touch. ..everything.
We stayed near, our foreheads touching, for what seemed like hours. My body began to ache but I didn't want to move away from Connor to find a more comfortable position. I doubted that one existed anyway. My calf cramped painfully, and I did what little I could to stretch it out. My neck grew stiff.
He was the one in the most danger, because he was what they wanted.
He was a Shifter.
I slept off and on as the hours progressed. I wanted to be rested as much as possible, ready to fight as soon as we could.
The national forest was millions of acres. To drive around it, to get to where the lab was, would take a good part of the night.
It was nearly dawn when the van came to a stop. Doors slammed. Then the back door swung open. Johnson pointed a gun at me. There was a pop and a sharp pain spiked in my thigh. I saw the little dart…
Fought to keep my eyes open.
Heard Connor roar—
Another pop.
Then everything went black again.
When I woke up, I was lying in a large metal cage in what looked to be a basement. A narrow window high in the cement-block wall allowed in a sprinkling of sunlight. The bars rattled. I rolled over and felt a sense of relief to see that Connor was in the cage with me—testing the strength of our prison. It was tall enough that we could stand up in it, but the door was only half as high. I couldn't figure out how it was secured, but it looked as though it slid up. I imagined Mason and his crew rolling us, unconscious, inside. I got to my feet, wrapped my hands around the bars, and shook the cage. It was sturdy.
Connor hit the bars with the flat of his hand. "It's no use."
He sank down in the corner and draped his hands over his drawn-up knees. He'd obviously woken up before me and checked things out. I slowly looked around. "Any idea what time it is?" I asked.
"No, they took my watch. Probably a strategy Mason learned in Taking Prisoners One-oh-one."
I spied cameras in the corners.
"And yeah, they're watching us," Connor said, not bothering to disguise his disgust.
I swallowed hard and fought to sound brave. "Talk about invasion of privacy."
"I have a feeling our privacy is going to be violated worse than that."
I thought about sitting beside him, but I was too restless so I paced. "Do you think they can hear us?"
"Not if we talk really quietly."
"I'm really mad at myself," I said through clenched teeth, frustrated. "You warned me to always expect the attack, and I was walking along not paying any atten—"
"Brittany, there's no way we could have anticipated this. You prepare, but in the end—surprise attack always trumps prepared."
I wanted to smile at his attempt to make me feel better. But I knew the truth. I'd been wallowing in my own troubles too much.
"What was it like when they caught you before?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Mason making threats, crowing about how he'd gotten the drop on us. We were in a cave. Who would have thought he'd find us there? The terrain was too rough for a vehicle so they were walking us." He glanced around. "I guess this was supposed to be our final destination."
"Did he do anything?"
"Kept asking us how we shifted. We told him we had no idea what he was talking about." He stared at one of the cameras. "But he just didn't want to listen."
A door opened, the screech of its squeaking hinges indicating that it was heavy. Mason strode in with Ethan, another lab geek we'd met earlier in the summer, and Tyler, flanking him like idiots who tagged along after the school bully. But behind them were Johnson and his twin, sporting guns. Mason must really fear what Shifters were capable of.
"Good. Sleeping Beauty and her Prince Charming are awake," Mason said, as he and his entourage came to a stop a few feet from the cage. I figured he'd had his eyes glued to a monitor waiting for some sign of activity.
Connor slowly unfurled his body and stood up in the way of a predator that doesn't fear its prey. "Release us, Mason, and we'll let you live."
Mason laughed darkly. "That sounds like a line from a bad movie."
"You must think it's possible that I can take you out or you wouldn't have Dumb and Dumber there with you holding guns."
"What I know is possible is this: Werewolves do exist. Earlier this summer, we caught Lucas when he was a wolf."
"Yeah," Connor said, mockingly. "I remember you mentioning something about that when you captured me before."
Mason had indeed caught Lucas in wolf form, but he'd never seen him shift in or out of it, so all he had was his belief.
"His fur looked just like Lucas's hair," Mason said, frustrated anger giving a hard edge to his voice.
"Wolves come in all shades. Check out Wikipedia or Google. They're black, brown, red, gray, white. And some are a combination of all colors. Wolves have been mixing things up for generations. I bet we could even find one that has fur that matches your hair. Let's go take a hike, see what we can find."
"Very funny. I know what I know. Your blood proves it."
"What my blood proves is that someone was careless, mixing samples or something. Or maybe you're just seeing what you want to see."
"Right. Whatever you say." Mason reached back and snapped his fingers. Ethan dropped to the floor like a submissive wolf, opened a case he'd been carrying, and handed Mason a long-handled swab. Mason held it toward Connor. "Need you to swab your mouth. Be sure you get a lot of saliva."
Connor gave him a feral-looking grin and invitingly stepped back. "Come in and swab it yourself."
Mason made a motion with his ha
nd. "Wilson."
Johnson's twin stepped forward and leveled a mean-looking gun on me. My heart hammered my ribs so hard that I was surprised they didn't crack. I angled up my chin in defiance and glared at Mason. "You have totally lost it."
But his attention was focused on Connor. He raised his finger like a teacher making a point. "That, my friend, is not a tranq gun. It's the bullet-holding kind."
"It doesn't matter," I said to Connor, knowing the first time we gave in they'd start making other demands. Surely Mason was bluffing.
With a growl, Connor reached through the bars and snatched the swab from Mason. He twirled it around his mouth and tossed it out. Ethan leaped for it, but he didn't have a Shifter's finely honed reflexes. He scooped it up from the floor.
"Will it be okay?" Mason asked.
"Should be. Just a little dirty." He dropped it into a clear vial.
"Now we want some more blood." Mason tapped the inside of his elbow. "The good stuff."
"Connor—" I began.
"It's just blood." Never taking his eyes from Mason, he shoved up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and pushed his arm between the bars. I figured Connor was imagining how Mason would taste when he finally got his teeth into him. Ethan must have been smart enough to read the murder in Connor's eyes, because he hung back until Mason barked orders at him.
I briefly wondered why Mason hadn't taken any specimens of what he needed while we were unconscious, but then I realized he was striving to make a point here—showing us exactly who was in charge.
I wanted to move closer to Connor, take his hand, but I didn't want to put him in the line of fire—even though the odds of him surviving a bullet were much better than mine. But as long as they never saw Connor shift, all they'd have was lab work that could be disproved some way.
"Impressive guns there," Mason said, referring to Connor's biceps.
"The better to strangle you with."
Mason smirked. "You're just one bad line after another, aren't you?"
"Sorry, but I'm having a hard time taking this little game of yours seriously."
"It's not a game. You'll see. When we have the serum perfected, and I transform into a wolf, maybe you and I will get into it."