Page 87

Rats? Not quite a magical shifter wolf/human hybrid, but at this point, I’d take any info I could get.

Me: What did it do to the rats?

Lesley: Altered cognitive ability, poor impulse control, restlessness, issues with sleeping, and an increase in violent behavior after prolonged use.

That all sounded like a really great way to push a person to become fully feral.

Cutting them off from their pack, coupled with the drugs, would probably make going feral happen even faster than it would naturally.

At least from the descriptions Nate had given me about how ferality worked in shifters.

Me: That doesn’t sound pleasant.

Lesley: Yeah. Pro tip, don’t do fucking meth!!! Anyway, how are you doing ?

I glanced around at my hotel, wondering what to tell her.

Me: Good. Just hanging out a bit.

The three little dots flashed for a long time. Lesley was writing out some novel of a text message, but when it came through, it was short. That spoke volumes, meaning she’d probably written and erased multiple things before coming to a conclusion on how to say it.

Lesley: You’re supposed to give me details on biker boy. Remember? I’m not going to ask about anything sexual. That needs to happen in person lol.

For a few seconds, I thought about how to respond, and then decided to be honest with her. Or at least as honest as I could be.

Me: It’s been hit-and-miss. Sometimes good, other times REALLY good. There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on. It’s like he’s what I’ve been looking for my whole life. Though, I’m still not totally sold that either of us is ready for more.

Lesley: Cam, that’s the most you’ve ever said about a guy to me. Even that stuck-up asshole Rick. Hell, you were like a half-step from marrying that guy and everything was very blah with him. My suggestion? Who gives a fuck? Go for it.

“Huh,” I grunted as I looked at her message.

The fight Nate and I had was still fresh on my mind, but with everything that had happened since, it had become less important.

Strangely enough, that was probably an unhealthy way to go about healing, but there was something between us that pushed all the problems aside when we were together.

We’d have to talk about it someday, but at the moment, Lesley’s words dug deep into me.

Life was short. Maybe it would be easier to go for it and see what happened.

Though, that was coming dangerously close to the way my mother approached love.

Before I could think of a response, Lesley sent another text.

Lesley: Look, chica, I have to be up early. I’m heading to bed. Love you. Talk to you soon?

What I really wanted was to keep talking to her, to give my mind something else to dwell on other than Rick. But I wasn’t a shitty friend. Lesley had a job, and I wasn’t going to force her to stay awake.

Me: Love you too. Talk soon. Bye.

I stared at my computer, wondering what I could do until Nate returned.

He hadn’t given me a timeframe. For all I knew, he could be out there until dawn.

Part of the increase in my paranoia was the heightened senses I wasn’t quite used to yet.

How did Nate and the others deal with it?

Sniffing the air, I caught the faint whiff of perfume, and somehow, my brain and inner wolf knew it was from down the hall.

Sounds were clearer, too. Outside, each closing door sounded like it was right beside me.

Everything was so much more that it was hard to relax.

At times, the external stimuli faded into the background, but when I was stressed, it became more pronounced.

Hopefully, I’d be able to control how it affected me when I grew used to it.

Doing my best to keep my mind off it, I dived back into research. I could at least say I’d gotten some work done. That, if nothing else, would make me feel better.

Twenty minutes into looking up crime rates and statistics from the year Lincoln Masters joined the Toronto pack, there was a knock on the door.

I flinched, jerking my head to stare at the door.

An instant later, my phone buzzed, drawing a startled yelp from my mouth.

Keeping my eyes on the door, I checked my phone.

Ollie: The safe word is SILVER BULLET.

He’d found someone already? He worked fast. When whoever was outside the door knocked again, I stood and walked over hesitantly.

I looked out the peephole and nearly burst out laughing.

An older couple, maybe in their late sixties, and what looked like a college boy a few years younger than me stood outside.

“Who’s there?” I called through the door.

Eyeing the peephole, I watched the woman smile and lean close to speak in a loud and surprisingly deep voice.

“Silver bullet,” she said. “It’s all right, dear. Ollie sent us.”

My entire body, taut as a high-tension cable a moment before, relaxed, and I slumped against the door. With trembling fingers, I spun the deadbolt and opened the door.

“Good evening,” the woman said. She had the look of a grandmother who’d been into punk music in her youth.

Her hair was short and spiky, and she had multiple rings in her left ear from the lobe to the top.

The look was topped off with bright pink lipstick and a nose ring.

She looked like she’d be more at home at a rock concert than a bingo game.

She stepped into the room, followed by the man, who looked as boring as the woman was exotic with his flannel button-down, slacks about two sizes too big, and white dad sneakers. He grinned at me and ran a hand through the thick white hair on top of his head.

The kid entered last. He had shaggy red hair and freckles across the bridge of his nose, but he was handsome in a boyish way.

He wore a T-shirt of a band I didn’t know, with some masked and hooded figure baring his teeth from under black makeup.

Above the image, red letters spelled the words “Sleep Token.”

“Hello,” I said. “Uh, nice to meet you.”

“Same,” the woman said. “My name is Carly. This is my husband, Leonard, and my granddaughter, Annie.”

My eyes flicked to the college kid again, and now that the woman said it, I did notice the kid was a girl. From the way she dressed and wore her hair, I wouldn’t have guessed.

“Hey,” Annie said to me, flipping her hair from her eyes.

I inhaled and noticed that subtle muskiness all shifters seemed to possess. These were my people.

“You guys are shifters?” I asked hesitantly.

“Indeed we are,” Leonard said.

Carly put a hand on my arm. “I’m an old colleague of Ollie’s.

I used to work in forensics with the Toronto PD before I retired and moved down here.

He gave us the basics of your situation.

” She gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry this has happened to you.

He asked us to come keep you company. We’re happy to stay here, but if you want to stretch your legs, we can go to the library? ”

Frowning, I looked at my watch, then back at Carly. “Library? It’s midnight. No library is open this late.”

Annie giggled and shook her head. “Not a human library. Duh.”

“There are shifter-only libraries?” I asked, a bit uncomfortable with the weird segregation that entailed.

“Sort of,” Carly said, and threw an irritated glance at her granddaughter.

“I’m a librarian at the county library. I petitioned to turn it into a twenty-four-hour location.

I’ve spent the last several years getting the word out to other shifters about it.

It’s become sort of a hub for shifters. A place for our kind to mingle late at night.

We usually go for runs afterward. It’s nice to have a nightly location that isn’t thumping music and freely pouring alcohol. ”

“Speak for yourself,” Annie grumbled.

“ Anyway ,” Carly said, gritting her teeth slightly and glaring at the girl. “We’d love to have you.”

The offer was tempting. The hotel room had become stifling and felt incredibly small. I still had work to do, but it would be nice to do it in a library. Less cramped, but still safe. If Ollie trusted these people, then I did as well.

“You know what?” I said. “Let’s go.”