Page 39 of Wolf Bane (Marked #3)

Chapter Sixteen

O ne day, I thought, I was going to make a fascinating case study for some researcher. I wasn’t sure in which field—whichever one studied people who got kidnapped above the national average.

“It’d need to be interdisciplinary,” a gruff, familiar voice muttered. “Psychology, medicine since you keep getting injured. You look like dog shit, by the way.”

I managed to get one swollen eye open. Tyler sat across from me, crisscross-applesauce, inside of a huge enclosure made of wire mesh.

“Are you in a chicken coop?” I muttered, pushing myself slowly upright. “And we’ve simply got to stop meeting like this.”

“It’s a homemade jail cell,” he sneered. “Don’t touch the wires.”

Blearily, I followed the direction of his pointing finger. “Are those jumper cables?”

“Pretty sure they were originally. They’ve rigged up something to electrify the metal if you touch it.”

I nodded, head jelly-wobbling on my neck. “Hey, so, just out of curiosity, are you a hallucination?”

“Not this time, pal.”

Grunting in acknowledgement, I stretched out and laid on my back, closing my eyes. “You sure I’m not dead?”

“I’d usually say no, but today, I won’t rule out the possibility. Hey, look at me. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

I didn’t open my eyes, but I did hold up one finger.

“Lucky guess.”

Somewhere in the building—house?—footsteps clomped.

Voices threaded around a rumbling HVAC. Werewolves—goddamn werewolves—went about whatever they were doing.

The place was saturated with the smell of them.

With the stink of fear, of sweaty bodies.

Blood and piss scoured with bleach. And earthy, sharp wolf.

“If you’re real,” I said after a century—time was moving like molasses.

“Why are you here? I thought you and Justin were in Houston?”

“Never made it past Dunning. They were waiting for us on the river road. I don’t know how they knew where to find us.” He hit something—the floor, the wall behind him—the meaty thunk of it unsettling in my already addled brain. “They kept Justin upstairs.”

“Upstairs,” I opened my eyes, staring at the grubby acoustic tile overhead, at the broken light panel. This space had been industrial, my throbbing thoughts decided. A school maybe? No, a hospital. “Where are we?”

“Not sure. I… I was out of it for a bit. We got run off the road. I didn’t get knocked out, but when I climbed out to help Justin, they grabbed me. Gave me a shot or something because I couldn’t shift and time was kind of funny.”

“Is Justin… well, is he okay for whatever measure of okay we’re using? Was he…” Dead?

Tyler made a darkly amused sound low in his chest. “He was okay. I think he was more pissed at being denied his lab than anything.” Pride colored his tone when he added, “He’s a scrapper when he’s pissed. He did some damage to one of the jackholes taking us.”

“Go Justin,” I said weakly. A new thought wormed its way in, twisting around my jelly-like awareness. “I couldn’t get Ethan to answer earlier. Is he?—”

“No. I’d know if he was.” Tyler’s chuckle was grim. “He’d have torn this place apart by now if he was.”

Then we were quiet for so long I wondered if Tyler had passed out too. Or maybe if I had. Things weren’t working right, brain-wise. “Are you hurt?” I finally asked when my head took a break from feeling like it was on a teacup ride. “They ran you off the road…”

“Might’ve sprained my wrist.” He sighed. “Bumped my head, but not enough to worry about at this point. Bruises.” I didn’t need to see him to know that he’d shrugged. “You look like shit though. Thought you were dead for a few minutes there.”

“Nope. Still here for now.” I gingerly brought my fingers up to my face, feeling the itchy scabs that had already formed. “Just when my arm was almost healed, too.”

“The nearest I can figure, we’re in the Dallas area. Or maybe Shreveport. It was hard to tell for a bit there.” He huffed, shuffling closer. “Can you smell them? The others?”

“Mmhmm. I think this was a hospital. Something about the other smells…” I trailed off, riding a wave of dizziness.

This time, the trough was a bit more shallow, less of a terrifying swoop downward.

I had no idea how long the werewolf part of me would take to heal from having my head bashed like that, but it was definitely longer than I’d like.

“Disinfectant,” he said. “Laundry soap.”

“Bodily effluvia,” I drawled, the words funny to feel on my tongue. “You know, if they want me to do something doctor-y, having me sustain a head injury was a fucking bad idea. I don’t think I could even put on a bandage right now.”

Tyler’s voice was closer when he spoke next. “I don’t think they want you for your medical smarts, Lan.”

Well. That left me something to mull over in the absolute bowl of oatmeal that had replaced my brain.

I drifted, or maybe dissociated, for a while, listening to Tyler scuffle around and swear at his side of the cage. Above us, more people came and went loudly, more voices rose and fell.

Once, there was a loud shout and scuffle. Ethan, I hoped. But no one came.

No one came, until finally someone did.

“Here we go,” Tyler muttered close to where our two enclosures met. “You able to sit up, Lan?”

I tried it. “It’s not fun, but yeah.”

“Stand up,” he said quietly. “If we get the chance, we’re going. I’ll carry your scrawny ass if I have to.”

“I remember when you were thirteen,” I muttered, pushing unsteadily to my feet. “I remember when you fireman-carried me across Pine Mill Park after your dad almost caught me and Ethan.”

He chuckled once, mirthlessly. “It was either that or let Dad kill you. Look alive. Well. Look less dead.”

“Think it’ll help?”

He snorted, and I finally got a look at him as he moved into the weak light cast by one of the overheads.

He was pale, battered, but looked otherwise alright.

Like he’d just spent a day playing football with the guys and tubing down the river, not getting abducted after a car accident.

He glanced my way and couldn’t hide his wince. “That good, huh?” I asked.

“Could be worse,” he allowed. “Could be on fire.”

One of the doors at the far end of the room opened and an unfortunately familiar man stepped through.

“Oh, hey, Daniel,” I drawled. “I was worried I wouldn’t get to thank you for the lovely time earlier. You should know, though, I’m happily involved with someone else.”

Daniel, tall and blond and built like a brick shit house, entirely unscathed by earlier, ushered in two other weres. Both equally intimidating and unsmiling.

“Doctor Babin. Spare Stone.” One of the weres, a woman easily as tall as Tyler and twice as muscled (which, sorry Tyler, wasn’t saying too much) went to a gray box set on the wall and opened it up to turn some knobs and press a button.

The faint hum of electricity, likely inaudible to human ears, stopped abruptly. “We’re ready for you upstairs.”

And we weren’t given much of an option. Tyler shook his head minutely when I glanced at him— wait, not yet— and we let ourselves be manhandled up the narrow stairs and into a broad corridor.

“What is this place?” Tyler asked, patently false cordiality in his tone.

“We were guessing a hospital but now I’m thinking it’s just one big kennel.

” He sniffed dramatically. “Stinks like wet dog.”

Daniel’s blow was swift and brutal, sending Tyler stumbling sideways. The other male were shoved him back towards Daniel before Tyler got his balance and bared his teeth, blood-streaked now. “So, it is a kennel?”

“Tyler,” I rasped. “Don’t.”

Daniel chuckled. “You’re going to be a fun one.” With a sharp nod at his two companions, we were on our way again.

Another set of stairs, then a short corridor told me we were definitely in a hospital or something medical adjacent. The smells, the linoleum flooring, the glimpse of equipment through half-closed doors…

“Did Garrow build this?” I asked as we drew to a stop outside a set of double doors with a shiny silver crash bar. “Or did he just creep in like a hermit crab?”

Daniel shot me a hard look before smirking. “He’ll be glad to see you.”

“What about you? You just couldn’t wait to see me again?

” I demanded, bracing for a blow of my own.

When none came, just the red flush creeping up Daniel’s neck, I added, “Does Benoit know? Or is this gonna be a surprise for him, too? Or…” A horrible, vertigo-inducing thought skittered across my rattled brain.

“Was the outbreak in Lugaru thanks to you?”

Daniel stopped for just half a step, just long enough for me to feel the snap-burn of change, become start low in my spine. Then he was moving again, tense and red, not looking back as he pushed ahead to open the doors.

Beyond the doors was a lab set up and a small bay of beds.

Eustace Robards lay in one, intubated and partially shifted.

Beside him was a woman with glossy black hair and the sharp features of a fox.

She glanced up as we came in, then back at Robards before doing a double take.

“Already?” she demanded. “Are you sure he’s capable? ”

Daniel nodded. “He’s up and moving, ain’t he?”

Beside me, Tyler froze. “Justin.”

Justin shuffled around the end of a bank of monitors, face pale and eyes deeply shadowed. His expression, though, was fierce and upon seeing Tyler, a shade joyful before he locked that shit down.

“Is that a fucking shock collar?” Tyler snarled, lunging towards Justin before Daniel stiff-armed him across the chest, sending him sprawling back.

“Mongrel’s gotta be kept in line,” Daniel said. The other two weres were given dismissive nods and headed into the rows of equipment. The woman beside Robards rolled her eyes. “What?” he demanded. “It’s true!”

“It’s fine,” Justin said quietly. “I’m not hurt. I’m okay, Tyler. I promise.” His smile fluttered, thin and weak. “Kinda feel better than I have in a while, actually.”