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  “You knew Iain McPherson? He said you were on his research team and left, then you showed up when my grandfather started looking for domestic help.”

  “You sound suspicious.”

  I noted how he didn’t answer the question. “Something doesn’t quite add up.”

  “Did Doctor McPherson also tell you I had collected everything I could find on your work? That I was your ‘biggest fan’, so to speak?”

  “He mentioned that you were very interested in it.”

  “What would you say if I told you I took the position for the chance to be near you?”

  “I would say that that’s creepy, almost stalker-ish. How do I know you weren’t trying to use me for my knowledge? Or my grandfather? Leo said you were a lab rat.”

  Silence. I could tell that I’d really hurt him. Gads, I hated how those late-night conversations stripped away the facades we put up. But he had kept information from me, and right now I couldn’t trust anyone, not even Lonna, whom I heard moving around in the living room. At least I thought it was Lonna. Maybe it was Iain because whoever it was didn’t sound like they knew where everything was. I held my breath and listened hard.

  “Doctor Fisher? Is everything okay?” My heart broke at the formality in his tone, the new wall between us.

  “Someone’s in the apartment.”

  “Just stay where you are. I’m calling the police.”

  “No, don’t do that yet. I’ll keep you on the phone. Let me just peek my head out and see if it’s Lonna or Iain bumping around.”

  “Is that wise?” Aha! Still that note of concern.

  “I promise, you’ll hear everything I do.”

  I opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through, and cell phone in hand, I crept down the hallway to the living room. The front door stood wide open, and something lay crumpled in a pile in front of it. I knelt down and saw Lonna’s crimson Razorback T-shirt and boxers—the ones she had gone to bed in.

  “Gabriel, I’m not sure what to make of this,” I whispered into the phone.

  “Of what?”

  “Lonna seems to have left the apartment.”

  “She lives there, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, but I think she left naked. Her clothes are by the door.”

  Gabriel sighed. “I had a suspicion, but there was no way for me to know with certainty. I would have told you had I been sure.”

  All the pieces to that puzzle fell into place. Lonna’s moodiness, her strange illness, and the way the male werewolves had reacted to her. “There’s something you haven’t been telling me, isn’t there? Something else.”

  “I don’t think I need to tell you, do I?”

  “No.” My best friend had become one of them. “I have to go.”

  “Be careful. A new werewolf can be difficult to control.”

  “I’ll wake Iain.”

  A pause. “That’s probably a good idea. But good luck getting him to believe you. He never accepted CLS as more than a mental illness.”

  “He’s going to have to. At least I’ve got compelling evidence.”

  “You and I can have a long conversation when you get back. I promise to explain everything to your satisfaction.”

  “I hope so. I think he’s coming with me.”

  Another pause. “I’ll prepare a room.”

  “Gabriel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks. Whatever tonight and the next few days bring, I’m really glad you’ve got my back. Even if you’re a creepy stalker Scot.”

  “You’re welcome, I think.”

  16

  The door creaked on its hinges as the wind picked up, and I moved to shut it. With the door closed, in the silence, I could almost believe I was in a waking dream—that it would be over when I went back to bed and shut my eyes. But then my feet found the discarded garments. What had Gabriel said? That a new werewolf was hard to control. It had never been possible to control Lonna. Just look at the mess she’d made with Peter Bowman. This wasn’t going to be easy. I closed my eyes and wished for Leo to return.

  A footstep startled me, and I ducked the wine bottle that came swinging toward my head.

  “What the hell—”

  “Oh, it’s you, Joanna.” Iain flipped on the light, and the discarded pile of clothing came into lurid view, as did the toppled end table and coffee table. The sofa and chairs, while still upright, sat at odd angles as though they’d been drinking with the lights off. “What’s going on? I heard someone moving around in here. I think they bumped into everything.”

  “Lonna’s gone out for a run.”

  He looked at the clothes by my feet and arched an eyebrow. “Naked?”

  “If you weren’t gay, I’d swear that idea titillated you.”

  “If I wasn’t gay, I’d allow it to distract me. You’re not telling me something.”

  I took a deep breath. “This is going to be hard to believe.”

  “Someone tried to blow me up today for no logical reason. I’m up for believing anything.”

  I gave him the quick-and-dirty explanation of CLS as we put shoes on. He listened, but I could tell he didn’t buy it.

  “So you’re saying that we’re dealing with true werewolves, not just delusions?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, Iain, but it’s true. I’ve seen them. I saw Gabriel transform, and it wasn’t a trick of the light. I’ve dealt with them post-metamorphosis and after a long night of hunting. I’ve heard them argue over who got to kill a deer with human voices in canine mouths.”

  “How is that physically possible?”

  “I suspect it was telepathic—I can understand them when others can’t—but still, you’ve got to believe me.”

  “Whether Lonna has what I know of as CLS or what you’re telling me doesn’t matter. How did she develop it?”

  I released the breath I’d been holding. Good, he’s back in scientist mode. “With some help. I just need to figure out who and how. But first we have to find her.”

  “And just what, exactly, are we looking for? Is she still part human?”

  “I don’t know.” I handed him a flashlight, and we walked out the door. I locked it behind me and put the key in my pocket, then hesitated. What if she came back and ended up being locked out, naked on her front step?

  “Hang on.”

  I dashed inside and hung the boxers and T-shirt on the outside doorknob. “Just in case.”

  Iain gestured for me to precede him down the stairwell. The lights illuminated a ten-foot radius, but beyond that, inky blackness.

  “Um, why don’t you go ahead?” I asked.

  “Now you’re afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night?”

  Before I could answer, a howl split the air, reached a crescendo of triumph, and then tapered. The vacuum of sound left by the howl momentarily sucked all noises into it.

  “What was that?” Iain searched the darkness with wide eyes as we walked down the stairs side by side.

  “I hope it was Lonna.”

  “Who else might it be?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t really feel like going into the whole black-wolf mystery right then. He’d really think I was mad. Still, my heart rate picked up. Was it Leo? Was he trying to warn me?

  “Where do you think she might go?”

  “Hmmm…” I flicked on my flashlight. “There’s an Italian place around the corner. Why don’t we check the dumpster?”

  “Werewolves go dumpster diving?”

  “She might be hungry.”

  “You don’t think she’s hunting?”

  My stomach flipped. “I don’t want to think of her like that.”

  “The jealousy in your voice is priceless.”

  I stopped and he bumped into me. “What do you mean?”

  “You sound sulky, like you wish it had been you.”

  “Do not.” We moved onward again and headed toward the patch of woods behind the apartments and beyond a small lake. The path around the pon
d was treacherous during the daytime with loose gravel and places where the path may slide out from under unwary walkers, so we stuck to the ground above it. We searched the area for footprints, but the wet grass kept its secrets.

  “This is pointless,” Iain started to say, but I heard something and held my hand up. “What?”

  “Do you hear that?” A faint scraping noise reached my ears.

  “Hear what?”

  “Follow me.”

  We crept around to the right of the pond and heard it more clearly, a noise like someone—or something—scratching in the dirt. Then I realized that something pawed at the spent coals in the barbecue pit. Our flashlight beams hit it at the same time: a wolf with tawny fur ticked in black. It glared back at us with topaz eyes, a bone in its mouth.

  “Iain, that’s her.”

  “Ah, and how do you know?”

  “I could make some smart-ass comment about that being how she always looks if you try to take barbecue away from her, but it’s the fur. It’s her coloring. And the eyes.”

  “Right now she’s looking at us like we’re dinner.”

  But she recognized us, didn’t she? “Running away from a predator is the best way to get it to chase you.”

  “So what do we do now that we’ve found her?”

  “Good question.”

  She answered it for us by spitting the bone out and loping down the hillside to the woods, where she vanished among the trees.

  “What now? Go after her?”

  I nudged the bone with a toe. “We’re never going to be able to keep up with her. We’re going to have to wait until dawn and then try to find her before she gets taken to the loony bin for running around naked.”

  “I had no idea hanging out with you would be so interesting.”

  “Me neither. Or should I say likewise? Until I saw you today, no one had tried to blow me up.”

  “Is there someone else who could help?” he asked as we made our way back up the slope and picked through the weeds at the side of the lake.

  “Like who?”

  “Another werewolf?”

  “The only one who’s nearby is busy on another hunt.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Five, er, six now. That I know of, anyway.”

  He shook his head. “That’s incredible. It’s the advance we’ve been looking for, the one we didn’t dare think would happen, but which defines the disease.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you remember my book, the one about Hillary Baehr, the woman who escaped from the asylum?”

  “Yep. It’s required reading at Cabal now.”

  “I didn’t want to put it in there for fear someone would refuse to take it seriously, but the guard on duty that night said that the only strange thing he noticed was a ‘large dog’ that dashed through the yard and then disappeared.”

  I swung my flashlight so that the beam hit him in the face, his pupils narrowing before he put a hand up to block the light. “Now I know you’re kidding me.”

  He squinted. “Think about it. Say you’re an orderly doing your rounds, and you look into a patient room, but you don’t see her. So you open the door, and a wolf dashes out. You look inside the room, no patient, so you sound the alarm. But who is going to believe you if you tell them a wolf came out of the room? No one, and they’ll probably stick you in the room next door.”

  “But how would a wolf get out of an asylum?”

  “If she was a patient there, she would know the nooks and crannies that a human may not be able to access or hide in, but an animal might, particularly a petite one. And who cares if the patients see you? They’re all crazy anyway. You just wait and slip out behind someone who can open the doors.”

  “I guess that’s plausible.”

  “Now that you know I’m not kidding you, perhaps we should call one of your friends. Dawn won’t be for another few hours. They could follow her trail and find her before she hurts herself.”

  “They’re all up in Piney Mount, er, Crystal Pines. It will take them hours to get here.”

  “What about the one who’s not? The good Doctor Bowman?”

  “He’s chasing another werewolf.”

  “So that makes seven?”

  “Yep. At least, I think that one’s a werewolf. I don’t know the human behind it.”

  “Call Gabriel.”

  “What?”

  “He’s one of them, right? That’s why he was so interested in your work.”

  “I guess.”

  “Joanie, it’s better than nothing. Your friend could hurt herself or someone else.”

  “Are you really concerned about Lonna or more interested in finding a research subject?”

  Iain shrugged. “Would you hate me if I said yes to both?”

  “No, I guess I would understand.”

  I tried the house, but Gabriel wasn’t answering, and his cell phone went to voice mail. I had no idea how to find Ron or Leo—Ron may be at the house, but he wouldn’t answer the phone. Leo could be anywhere.

  So we did the only logical thing. We made a large pot of coffee and waited for sunrise. In spite of the caffeine, I had difficulty staying awake. So did Iain, and we were both startled when someone pounded on the door.

  “Is it her?” I asked.

  He held up one finger and reached for the heavy flashlight as I tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole.

  “It’s Gabriel.” I hoped he didn’t hear the relief in my voice, but there was no missing the sarcasm in his tone.

  “The research assistant turned butler has arrived to save the day.”

  I shot Iain a dirty look and opened the door. Gabriel’s expression turned from concern to carefully neutral when he saw his fellow Scot.

  “Doctor McPherson,” he said and held out his hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Likewise. I supposee. So I understand you have CLS. That explains a lot, admittedly. But why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted to, but I couldn’t find the words, and I didn’t want to compromise my perceived objectivity.”

  I stepped between them. “Guys, can we save this discussion for the morning? Lonna is out there.”

  Gabriel studied the apartment with dark-circled eyes. “Do you have something of hers I can mark the scent from?”

  “Her pajamas are by the door.”

  “Fine. If you two will, ah, excuse me.”

  “Transformation is very private,” I explained to Iain as I led him down the hallway.

  “I see.” His facial expression told me he wondered if I was going to drag him into my web of insanity. This would be the ultimate test for him: would he believe, or would he try to have us all committed or arrested for an elaborate hoax?

  A noise between a bark and a yip alerted us that Gabriel had changed and was ready to go. A large brown wolf, his tongue lolling to one side, sat by the door. I held my breath and looked at Iain.

  “That. Is. Amazing,” he whispered, the hint of a smile on his patrician lips.

  I could finally exhale. “Yeah, it is.”

  We opened the door, and wolf-Gabriel dashed down the stairs and made a beeline for the barbecue pit. We had to run to keep up with him, the flashlight beams bouncing ahead of us. He took a cursory sniff at the bone Lonna had dropped earlier and, with a glance over his shoulder to make sure we followed, trotted toward the woods. We had to go single file as he wandered back and forth, finally coming out on the other side near Chenal Parkway, a busy thoroughfare that ran from the retail area near I-430 to the newer neighborhoods off Highway 10. My heart clenched—had she been hit? But no large lump lay moribund in the road or median. Instead, Gabriel took us along the side of the road, and back into another wooded area. He stopped, and Iain opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, we heard a low growl.

  Wolf-Gabriel gave a whine and tucked his tail as he approached wolf-Lonna, whose snout was bloodied by the rabbit she’d killed and had just disemb
oweled.

  “Oh God,” Iain muttered and fainted in a heap behind me. I knelt beside him and gently nudged him.

  “C’mon, Iain, this is no time for you to be passing out.” I shook a little harder and looked at wolf-Gabriel. Could a lycanthropic face display amusement? I swore he had a grin, and his eyes danced with laughter. Wolf-Lonna nudged him with her cold nose, and he joined her in polishing off the rabbit.

  “Would the two of you mind burying that when you’re done?” I asked. “I don’t think Iain could take waking up to the mess you’ve made.”

  Iain’s breathing came regularly, and his heart rate was strong so I knew he would wake soon. That was the good thing about theoretical and literature-based research—not much in the way of blood and guts. I wasn’t that squeamish, not since Andrew had died and my father had explained everything in cold, clinical terms that put tragedy safely in the realm of science, but I’ll admit the sight did disturb me.

  Dawn streaked the sky with fingers of red on the horizon, and Gabriel and Lonna raised their heads as though something had called to them. He touched her nose and started the transformation process. I turned away to give them privacy, and when I looked back, they both sat there, naked, with blood on their faces.

  “What?” Lonna asked just before her eyes rolled back. She would have hit her head on a rock had Gabriel not caught her and helped her to the ground.

  “Common reaction to the first transformation as the human brain, the cortex, reasserts itself over the animal brain,” he told me. “It’s kind of like a teen learning to drive a standard transmission for the first time. It takes practice to find the clutch and not stall.” He smirked at the reclining Iain. “So much for the brave Doctor McPherson.”

  He stood and stretched, and I couldn’t help but notice his erection. I glanced away and blushed.

  He looked down and tried to cover himself with his hands. “It’s not uncommon upon transformation back to being human. And there is a naked woman right here. And part of the animal brain is still very active.” He scratched the back of his head.

  “I see.” Sexual tension crackled between us.

  Iain stirred and rolled up on one elbow, the heel of his hand to his temple. He looked at me, at Gabriel, and at Lonna, who also stirred.