Page 20 of Wolf Bane (Marked #3)

I hesitated, wondering how much to tell her before deciding in for a penny.

I’m sure a lot of that came from not having Ethan as my sounding board, but also, a tiny little voice that may or may not have been some part of that werewolf genetics or maybe just my own desperation, whispered that Gina Perrin would be an excellent ally.

She seemed just as annoyed by the ICW politics as I was, and she was a doctor too. She understood.

But, I hedged inwardly, telling her I think I found a connection? That might make me look absolutely banana-pants bonkers.

As if I needed any help in that department.

“Okay, look, I’m about to tell you something that might sound like I have a foil hat ready to go, but bear with me.”

Gina Perrin’s eyes widened, and she sat back. “Do I need to approach this as a psychiatrist or as someone who’s also concerned about our current situation?”

“The latter. I think I found a link between these pockets of outbreaks. Almost every community I was able to look into, which admittedly wasn’t a lot since I was rushing this at home, had a mobile health van visiting in the week or two before the first case was noted.

It was advertised in the community papers or on neighborhood websites, offering free health checks.

It wasn’t linked to any hospital or health system but a private company called Monk and Hood Health Solutions. ”

She whipped out her phone and started tapping. “I’m not finding anything called Monk and Hood,” she muttered. “Or Monk-slash-Hood. Or anything even remotely similar. Hold up.” She typed some more. “Nope. But… ah, seriously? Fucking hell.”

I took her phone when she held it out to me. “Monkshood,” I read aloud. “Also known as aconite. Also known as wolf’s bane or wolfbane.”

She took her phone back. “Landry…”

“I keep hoping they’ll run out of wolf-related names but nope.

Here we are.” I scrubbed my hands over my face, fighting the urge to scream in the middle of the restaurant.

It wasn’t exactly full, but I’m sure a grown man losing his shit would still be noticeable and likely not great for my reputation with the town.

“Monkshood. Wolfbane. Known to repel or kill werewolves. And they’re showing up in these were communities, which then experience an outbreak that is often fatal. ”

Gina nodded slowly, tucking her phone away. “What do we do?”

“Watch our backs,” I said quietly. “This isn’t my first go ‘round with people who want to cull out parts of the were population or control them. And if I didn’t know better…” I trailed off. Tyler had mentioned a connection to Garrow in the files. A link back to Bluebonnet.

“Maybe I don’t,” I muttered. “Maybe I don’t know better. Are you on good terms with anyone at the home office who might feel gossipy?”

“Not even a little.”

A large group of diners came in, chatting and laughing, one of them coughing.

I flinched, glancing up to watch them pass.

They weren’t a were—I didn’t feel that familiar predator flee now drive that I got around weres or smell an unfamiliar waft of other .

But the coughing sounded a lot like Justin’s, a lot like Mariska’s.

“You’re not their doctor,” Gina Perrin murmured, suddenly beside me.

She moved out of the booth and was standing right next to me now, holding her purse and jacket over one arm, watching the family get settled in a far booth.

“And they’re not were. Unless this thing can leap to humans, they’re not our concern right now. ”

I hated that she was right. But… “It will be if whatever this is can jump. Humans and weres are the same, to a certain extent. Whatever flips in the were genome to make them—you—what you are, it doesn’t change the fact the majority if your makeup is the same as a non-were.

And there’re tons of diseases that can jump from one species to another, so even pretending that were and human genetics are vastly different, that doesn’t change the fact cross-species infection can and does occur.

Viruses can change.” I made a little fist pumping gesture. “Improvise, adapt, overcome.”

Gina Perrin stared at me for a long moment. “Uh huh.”

“What? That’s the basic gist of evolution.”

“Uh. Huh.” She glanced past me at a small group of teenagers roughhousing their way up the sidewalk, laughing about someone’s homecoming date, about a dress, and a car.

“Kids, huh?” Gina Perrin murmured. “Same no matter if they’re were or not.

” She gave a subtle nod towards one of the teenagers, a lanky girl with long red hair twisted into a loose braid down her back.

The girl glanced at us, froze, then hurried after her friends.

“Like recognizes like sometimes. We know one another, some inner sense. That’s why you’re feared. You confuse that sense.”

“So I’ve been told,” I muttered, heaving a small, tired sigh. “I need to do some follow up calls to patients?—”

“On a Saturday?” she asked, brows arching in surprise. “You’re dedicated.”

I grinned tightly. “More like scared spitless.”