A plate and screws
... Josh imagined that wouldn’t work so well on a shapeshifter. The thought of what would happen to them during the conversion from human to animal made him queasy. Small wonder Stanton had refused the surgery.
“The proximal humerus is also fractured—that’s his shoulder—but the only way to manage that is to place his arm in a sling.”
“He’s okay otherwise?”
The doctor all but rolled his eyes. “Depends how you define
okay
. There’s extensive bruising. Had to stitch a couple of the lacerations in his scalp. And he’ll have a lot of pain in that arm and shoulder, of course. We’d like him to stay overnight for observation, but he’s not receptive to that idea. If
you’re
willing to watch him, I’ll discharge him.” He headed off down the hallway, no doubt to spread cheer to some other poor souls.
Josh entered the hospital room and was jolted by how pale Stanton seemed against the white sheets. His eyes were closed, and his eyebrows looked wilder than ever when unrestrained by his glasses, but he was perfectly alert. “There’s a woman who won’t stop talking in my head,” he muttered.
“What?”
Stanton opened his eyes. “There’s a woman who won’t quit talking to me. Here I am, a shell of a man, and I can’t get a lick of sleep until I pass on the message.”
“Kenzie? Are you talking to Kenzie?”
“Barely. It’s quite a distance. But her broadcast is coming in loud and clear. Adrenaline will do that to you.”
“Why would she need—”
“Looks like she’s been captured, bud, just like Anya. IBC’s got her locked up tight and they know what she is.”
It happened too fast. Josh wasn’t prepared for the emotions that suddenly ripped through him, and he plowed his fist into the nearest wall. “
Shit.
Why’d she have to go off by herself? I shouldn’t have left her alone, I should
never
have left her alone.”
And I should have cleaned Richardson’s clock when I had the chance.
Stanton surveyed the large hole punched in the drywall with a barely raised eyebrow. “It’s
my
fault that any of this happened. Kenzie wouldn’t be a prisoner if I’d managed to protect Anya.”
“Bullshit. You might be a shapeshifter but you’re not a superhero. Who knew that you were going to have to deal with bears and dogs and hunters all at once? You wanna lay a guilt trip on somebody, then put it on Kenzie and me for leaving you alone.” He blew out a breath. “Or we could all come to our senses and go after who’s really responsible: IBC.”
“You’re mounting a rescue mission?”
“Damn right.”
The vet nodded. “Count me in.”
“You’re supposed to stay here overnight for observation.”
“So observe me. But I’m going.”
You didn’t go into a situation without intel, you didn’t go in without a plan, and you sure as hell didn’t go in alone.
Those were basic rules that kept soldiers alive in Afghanistan. It was tough to pay attention to rules, however, when every instinct Josh had was screaming at him to fly straight into the IBC compound and beat down their door with an M240 machine gun. The woman he loved was in a cage and a child was in danger. His heart wanted to charge in now, but his head knew better. This was a mission he couldn’t risk failing.
Already there were complications. Kenzie and Anya were not kept in the same area. At least eight other shapeshifters were imprisoned as well. At least he had some maps of the compound, thanks to Stanton’s conspiracy theorist hobbies. They’d gone to the vet’s house and Stanton had dug out the maps before Josh insisted he get some sleep. There were even some general layouts of the main building from its constrromtheuction permit application. Added to the little sightseeing tour Josh had taken with his friend, he had no trouble orienting himself. But that was only part of the equation. He knew nothing about the security once he got past—
if
he got past—the formidable front gates. Just how many people lived and worked at IBC? Plus, he had no idea who their friends were, or who they’d call on for help if they were threatened. State troopers? Military? On-site mercenary? How fast would they respond?
He was trying to plan an operation that wouldn’t get anybody killed, and was rapidly realizing it might not be possible. His watch beeped—another hour had passed and Josh went into Stanton’s room to check on him again. He was sleeping well, his breathing even and easy, and his color looked better. Technically, Josh was supposed to
wake
him every hour, but his friend had assured him that it wasn’t necessary with werewolves. It was probably bullshit—Stanton likely just wanted to sleep.
Earlier, Stanton had gleaned everything that Kenzie could tell him, mind to mind, but she didn’t know much of what went on beyond her cage. What she
did
know was scary. IBC obviously had a hell of a lot of money, enough that they could afford to kidnap a dozen people with incredible abilities unknown to science, imprison them, and keep the whole thing secret. Worse, those prisoners were far more valuable to IBC’s purposes than the untold millions of dollars the company would make if they revealed them to the world.
With so much at stake, Josh knew that IBC was potentially more dangerous than a drug cartel. They’d have state-of-the-art electronic security in those shiny new buildings. The presence of dogs was already confirmed. And although IBC probably felt their isolated facility was safe, it stood to reason they’d have hired guns as well. He’d spotted one in a window when he and Stanton landed there. Now he was certain there’d be more. Not rent-a-cops, but people trained to protect IBC’s investment. Josh surveyed the weapons he’d laid out on the table. He could be dangerous too.
So far, however, he had no idea who he was going to tap for backup on this, and going alone was stupid. At best, he’d get taken out and then there’d be no one to help the prisoners. At worst, Kenzie and Anya could be hurt or killed. Stanton healed fast as a shapeshifter, but his arm and shoulder were going to take a few days. Meanwhile, Josh couldn’t involve law enforcement, not even his fellow wildlife officers, because he couldn’t risk Kenzie’s secret being revealed and the existence of shapeshifters making the national news. Too bad he didn’t know any changelings besides Stanton who could help him—
Or did he?
Josh pulled his cell phone out and looked at it. He had a number and a name. To borrow a phrase from Mamie Dalkins, the Macleods didn’t know him from a bar of soap. Plus, it was the wee hours of the morning. They’d probably think he was a lunatic and hang up. But Josh knew what it was like to be a big brother, and what he’d do if anyone ever threatened one of his sisters. Hell, he knew what he was prepared to do right now for the woman he loved. Shapeshifters or not, he had a feeling that the Macleod brothers would react along the same lines. Kenzie would likely kill him for involving them of course, if she ever spoke to him again. He figured he’d manage to live with that if she was safe and sound.
He punched the number.
Kenzie figured she must still be experiencing the effects of the drugs in the dart. How else could she have slept so soundly, and on a hard floor to boot? There was a rubber mat in each cage for sleh cng eping, which provided some insulation from the cold floor. Nikki’s doing, Roy had said. But the mat wasn’t much more comfortable than the cement. She rose and stretched, wincing at her bruised thigh and wanting nothing more than to punch Nate in the face. Repeatedly.
To her surprise, three of her fellow prisoners were on two legs; Roy, Dempsey, and Shaggy Sam. Sam, as it turned out, was rather shaggy in human form as well. He sported waist-length hair in a long thick braid that hung down his back, and eyebrows that could rival Stanton’s. “Morning, guys,” she said. “You’re looking unusually good today.”
Roy grinned sheepishly. “Thought about what you said and figured it was worth a try. Who knows, maybe they’ll finally give us some coffee.”
The veterinarian came in at that moment, and paused to take in the changes in her charges. For a moment, Kenzie thought she might turn and run, but Nikki appeared to square her shoulders and approached the cages—slowly. She walked along each one, saying nothing, until she came to Kenzie’s cage.
“You didn’t really believe it, did you?” Kenzie asked softly.
Nikki shook her head.
“Can you tell me if the wolf cub is okay? She’s just a little girl and I’m worried about her.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “F-fine. She’s okay. We’ve got her upstairs where it’s warmer.”
“Thanks for that. Can you help us get out? We’d all like to go home.”
A crash at the door interrupted them and five men came in wheeling a low stainless steel cart. Two of the men had dart guns at the ready, but Kenzie could see that all of them had sidearms—and the holsters were open. The leader strode over to Nikki without hesitation and stood looking at the Changelings with one hand on his holster.
“What the hell is this?” the man demanded.
“They’re werewolves, Gessler, what did you expect?” said Nikki, as if finding human beings in the cages hadn’t thrown her for a loop too. “They have a human shape.”
“Well, whatever shape they are, the clipboard says Number Six is due at the lab.” With one smooth movement, he moved forward, drew his dart gun and fired through the mesh. Dempsey’s lupine instincts were fast enough to try to dive out of the way but the fluorescent dart caught him in the shoulder.
“No!” shouted Nikki. “We don’t know how it will affect them in this form.”
Kenzie was horrified at how quickly the drug took effect. Within a few seconds, Dempsey’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped bonelessly to the cement floor. Despite Nikki’s protests, Gessler nodded to his men. They wasted no time opening the cage door and loading Dempsey onto the cart like a sack of potatoes. Nikki knelt and checked his pulse, used the stethoscope that was around her neck and pushed back his eyelids to check his pupils. “I don’t like the way he’s breathing. You idiot, you could have killed him.”
“My job is to dart subjects and transport them back and forth to the lab. I was just doing my job.” He motioned at his men to wheel Dempsey away. “You don’t want them darted, maybe we’ll go back to tying them up. Remember how much fun that used to be? After all, we only had to shoot three of them to keep them from killing the staff. Besides”—he pointed at Kenzie—“it’s that one’s fault. Dr. Richardson warned us she was a troublemaker and to keep an eye on her.”
“That’s crazy,” retorted Nikki.
“Is it? She’s been hSheublemakerere one day and already we have werewolves trying to look like people.”
Kenzie narrowed her eyes at Gessler. “We
are
people.”
“Only when it suits you. The rest of the time, you’re killers.”
“If you’re so sure of that, why isn’t Nate Richardson in a cage? He’s a werewolf too.”
Gessler laughed out loud. “Sure he is, and the pope wears a thong. Nice try, lady.” He was still chuckling when he left the room.
“I need to look after Six,” said Nikki, and she turned to leave.
“It’s Dempsey,” said Roy suddenly. “He has a fucking name.
Dempsey
.”
“Dempsey, got it.” She hurried across the room and out the door.
Roy slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “Damn that Gessler. He’s the one that should be in a cage. Tell me why we’re in human form again?”
“Nikki might help us,” piped up Sam from the end cage.
“Might,” snorted Roy. “And then Gessler will just dart us or shoot us. I don’t think he cares which.”
“They don’t know that Nate’s a Changeling?” asked Kenzie. “They honestly don’t know?”
“Richardson’s got himself a sweet racket. Nobody at IBC can tell if a human is Changeling or not. So he’s taken full advantage of that. Pretends he’s a psychic and that’s how he can find us and turn us in.”
“I think we should turn the tables on
him
,” Kenzie said, folding her arms. “I think we should expose him for what he is.”
“How? You saw how Gessler took it when you tried to tell him.”
“We could show them. There are enough full-grown Changelings in this room. If we all pushed at Nate at once with our mindspeech, we could order his wolfen side to come out and play.”
Roy looked at her openmouthed. “Holy shit, lady,” said Sam. “That’d be a neat trick if it works. Where the hell did you learn about that?”
“My family’s part of a Pack. It’s pretty basic stuff, although you use it only in an emergency.”
“Well, I’d say this qualifies. But it’s not as basic as you seem to think,” said Roy, recovering somewhat. “What we know, we’ve had to learn on our own. There’s not a lot of Changeling Packs in Alaska. In fact, I don’t think any of us have ever been part of one in our lives. Land of the
rugged individualist
and all that.”