Laura's Wolf (Werewolf Marines) (22 page)

“Hello, Russell,” Gregor called. “This is Laura, your alpha female-to-be.”

Russell chopped harder, ignoring them.

“Russell’s our chef,” said Gregor. “Please inform him of any food allergies or dislikes—or requests, of course—that you might have.”

“You kidnapped a guy to
cook for you
?” Laura said incredulously.

At that, Russell glanced up and gave her a gallows-humor smile. “I’m a two-time James Beard Award nominee for best chef in the Northeast. Well worth kidnapping.”

“Actually, I selected Russell because I needed an initial cash infusion, and he has a large trust fund,” said Gregor. “His cooking skills were a bonus. But they’re an excellent one. What’s for lunch, Russell?”

“Salad is smoked trout with pink grapefruit, arugula, toasted pecans, and a sherry vinaigrette,” said Russell. “Main course is a seared flatiron steak with pepper and balsamic. Side of roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and lime.”

“Anything you want to change, Laura?” Gregor asked.

“No substitutions,” said Russell promptly.

“Does he amuse you?” inquired Gregor, arching one eyebrow. “If he doesn’t, just say so. I promise you, he’ll never talk back to you again.”

“It’s fine,” Laura said quickly. “He’s fine. And the lunch sounds delicious.”

Russell resumed his ferocious chopping. Laura was relieved to follow Gregor out of the kitchen. Poor Russell!

Poor everyone,
she thought.
Well, maybe not poor Donnie.

“How many people are in your pack?” Laura asked. The mansion looked like it could easily house twenty.

“Only five at the moment, not counting myself,” said Gregor. “I lost Jesse at the bank, and the person I selected to replace him didn’t work out.”

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t work out?’” Laura had an idea, but she wanted to see if Gregor was ever going to tell her about the fifty percent death rate for prospective werewolves.

“Perfect timing. I’m taking you to someone who can explain that much better than I can.” Gregor opened a door with a flourish.

Laura stared in surprise. The room was set up as a small hospital, complete with beds, an examination table, medical machines, and a woman in a white doctor’s coat who stood with her back to the door, putting bottles of pills in a cabinet. When the door opened, she jumped nervously, dropping a bottle.

“Meet Dr. Keisha Smith,” said Gregor. “The final member of my pack.”

If Laura hadn’t known Keisha was a doctor, she would have guessed she was an actress or a model, with her huge brown eyes, black hair arranged in flattering twists, and flawless mahogany skin that glowed with health. She looked absolutely miserable.

“Take care of Laura’s cuts,” Gregor ordered. “And tell her
everything.
Understand? Take your time. Donnie will wait outside.”

To Laura’s relief, Gregor and Donnie walked out and closed the door behind them.

“Please have a seat,” Keisha said, indicating the examination table.

Laura sat on it, trying not to be too obvious about checking the room for exits and weapons. There was only one door, and no scalpels in sight.

Keisha brought a tray of medical equipment to the table. In silence, she began cleaning Laura’s cuts. The clear liquid stung in the scratches, and the smell stung Laura’s nose. It reminded her of applying iodine to Roy’s gunshot wound. She had the feeling that even though she’d been terrified that he would die and he’d been in excruciating pain, both of them had probably felt better at that moment than either Laura or Keisha did now.

Laura waited for Keisha to start talking and give her some cues. A con artist didn’t need physical weapons, only the freedom to speak and someone to speak to. If Keisha was what Laura had to work with, Laura would work on her.

Keisha said nothing. The only sense Laura got of her was that she was obviously competent and extremely depressed. Both those attributes seemed promising: Keisha clearly wasn’t helping Gregor voluntarily, and should Laura be able to persuade her to switch sides, she might have some good ideas.

Laura whispered, “Are they listening at the door?”

Keisha dabbed at a scratch on Laura’s hand. “No, you can talk freely. It’s soundproofed.”

Laura blinked. “Why?”

Keisha gave her a long, sad look. Laura’s fear threatened to break through her control as she considered what Roy had told her, what Gregor had told her, and the implications of needing a hospital room at all.

I’ll just say it, and then Keisha can laugh at me and say it’s because the room was originally a recording studio,
Laura decided.

“So no one can hear the screaming?” Laura asked.

“Yes. It’s not because Gregor tortures anyone. Exactly. But the process of becoming a werewolf is extremely painful, and you can’t sedate people for it. If they’re not fully conscious, they can’t change. And if they can’t change, they die.”

“How often do they die?” Laura asked uneasily.

Keisha gave Laura another long, sad look. “Are you the type of patient who likes to know the exact statistical odds for their prognosis or the type that prefers a general idea? Statistics can’t tell you what will happen to you. Every individual experience is different.”

“I want the exact statistical odds.” Asking for information you already knew was an excellent way to gauge whether someone was lying to you. Or, in this case, whether someone had lied to them and they’d believed it.

“Before he had me helping him, Gregor lost more than half of the people he bit,” Keisha said. “I think some of them did have the capability of changing, but their bodies gave out before they could do it. I can provide basic life support, and keep people going for longer. Give them more of a fighting chance. The numbers are much too small to be a statistically significant sample. But four out of seven of the people I treated survived.”

So Keisha had been forced to watch three innocent kidnap victims die, no doubt while she desperately tried to save them. Her blank stare reminded Laura of how Roy had looked when he’d chosen not tell her exactly what had happened to the guy sitting next to him in the helicopter.

“Though two of them died later, for other reasons,” Keisha added.

“How long have you been a—” Laura began.

“Werewolf?” Keisha interrupted. “About a year and a half. Gregor bit me two weeks after I finished my residency in emergency medicine.”

“I was going to say ‘prisoner.’ Though I guess it’s the same thing. You must have gone through hell.”

Anger broke through Keisha’s sorrowful gaze. “
Through?
I’m
in
hell. We all are. Russell’s made two suicide attempts. Miguel has nightmares and wakes up screaming. Nicolette paces around the grounds all night, whether or not she’s supposed to be on guard. Donnie’s the only one who’s here voluntarily, and I think he’s regretting it. He keeps coming in and complaining about backaches and headaches and stomach aches, but there’s no physical cause.”

“Maybe Gregor ought to kidnap a therapist next,” Laura said, with black humor.

Keisha answered her seriously. “You can’t do trauma therapy with people who are still being traumatized. It’s like trying to treat soldiers for PTSD while they’re still in combat. To do them any good, the first thing you have to do is get them out of the war zone.”

“Can’t you get out of the war zone?”

“No. Turn your head to the left.” Keisha held Laura’s hair aside to disinfect a scratch on her neck. “We all saw what happened to Nicolette. Another woman, Amy, ran away twice. The second time she returned, Gregor refused to take her back. She cried and begged and got down on her knees, but he told her she knew the rules. Then she took out a gun and shot at him. Gregor held his breath and let the bullet pass through him.”

Laura noted that. If Gregor could only stay immaterial for as long as he could hold his breath, then all anyone had to do to kill him was either take him completely by surprise or stay within range until his oxygen ran out. She felt confident that Roy could manage either of those tasks, assuming he could catch Gregor away from electric lights.

“And then she shot herself in the head,” Keisha concluded, applying a butterfly dressing to the deepest cut on Laura’s arm. “So no. We can’t run away, we can’t kill him, and we can’t call the cops.”

Laura wondered if the room was really soundproofed, then decided that it didn’t matter. Gregor had obviously passed Laura over to Keisha in the full knowledge that Keisha had given up and would convince Laura that escape was impossible.

“When is Gregor planning to bite me?” Laura asked.

The distant, haunted look returned to Keisha’s face. “When you and I are finished talking, we’ll all have lunch. If you don’t think it’ll make you nauseated, you should try to eat.”

“So Russell was lying about the James Beard Award?” Laura asked, hoping to get a smile out of Keisha.

Keisha didn’t even come close to looking amused. “It’s not the food. After I gave Jesse the talk I’m giving you now, he walked out and vomited from anxiety. On Donnie’s Italian leather shoes, too. Donnie was pissed.”

“Why did Gregor want Jesse, anyway? The news said he was a college student.”

“He was also a 50 meter pistol champion, nearly Olympic caliber. But being good at shooting a target doesn’t mean you’ll be willing to shoot to kill. Gregor mostly ended up using him for reconnaissance, because he could see through walls.” Keisha’s eyes brightened with tears. “Jesse was a former foster kid, and he said it was almost worth being bitten to have a pack. Gregor makes sure everyone he bites doesn’t have anyone who’ll kick up a fuss if they drop off the map.”

Laura wished she hadn’t asked. She felt incredibly guilty, though she hadn’t killed Jesse and hadn’t even known he was a hostage too. “What happens after lunch?”

Keisha’s expression mirrored Laura’s feelings. “Gregor bites you.”

Adrenaline rushed through Laura’s body. Roy wouldn’t even know she was missing for another day, and then it would be too late. She had to stall.

Letting her real fear show, Laura said, “Tell him to wait. Tell him I’m sick or I lost too much blood or—”

Keisha was shaking her head, sending her twists bobbing. “I can’t lie to him. Nicolette would know.”

“Nicolette might play along. She obviously hates him too.”

“She won’t,” Keisha said grimly. “Jesse claimed he had a heart condition and the stress of being bitten would kill him. Nicolette felt sorry for him, so she said he was telling the truth. His heart was in perfect condition, but since Nicolette had already committed herself, I backed her up. Gregor had Donnie break into Jesse’s doctor’s office and check his medical records. Did you notice Miguel’s scars?”

“They’re hard to miss.” Laura could already tell this was a story that she was going to wish she’d never heard.

“Nicolette and Miguel are close, even for pack. It’s not romantic—Miguel’s gay and Nicolette mostly likes girls—it’s a buddy thing. They’re both giant geeks. You should hear them argue over whether Wolverine could beat up Batman.”

“Nicolette looks like she could beat up Batman,” Laura remarked.

Keisha didn’t smile. Laura was beginning to wonder if she was even capable of it. Maybe she had been before Gregor had gotten to her.

“Did Gregor show you his power?” Keisha asked.

“Yes, he walked through a door.”

“He can’t carry anything but his own clothes through a wall or door and out the other side. But he can push objects part-way in. Gregor took Miguel outside, and made us all come out to watch. He held his breath and pushed Miguel’s face into a tree. Then he let go. I had to cut him out with a scalpel. Gregor made everyone watch that, too.”

Laura nearly told Keisha she’d heard enough, but Keisha’s voice rose, angry and loud. “You want to know how horrible it was?
Donnie
closed his eyes because it was making him sick to watch. Donnie’s a hit man! He shoots people in the head and dissolves their bodies in acid!”

“Okay!” Laura said hastily, trying not to visualize either Keisha cutting Miguel out of a tree or corpses dissolving in acid. “Okay, forget it. Just tell me how it works to become a werewolf. Is there anything I can do to make myself more likely to change and less likely to drop dead?”

As Laura had hoped, asking a medical question made Keisha return to her calm, analytical doctor mode. “First, don’t panic. Your odds are good. I’ll be with you the entire time, and I’ll do everything I can to help you. Second, it requires a lot of determination and will-power. It’s a painful, exhausting process. It will be very tempting to give up, stop trying, and let yourself pass out. Don’t do that. Keep reminding yourself that once you change, the pain will stop and then you can sleep.”

“How long do you have to change, once you’re bitten?” Laura asked uneasily.

“It varies. Unfortunately, Gregor didn’t keep records of anyone’s experience before me, and I didn’t have the presence of mind to track my own. But from what I’ve seen—and keep in mind the very small sample size, I’m talking about seven people here—symptoms can begin almost immediately or be delayed for up to an hour.

“The fastest I’ve seen anyone change was Nicolette. She complained of pain and dizziness within three minutes, and she became a wolf nineteen minutes later. Since she did so well, I kept everything I did with her as my standard protocols for treatment. But she’s also an extremely determined person, and I’m sure that helped.

“The longest I’ve seen anyone take to successfully change was Miguel. He became symptomatic after sixteen minutes, but it took him eight hours and forty minutes to change. His heart stopped three times. From what I’ve seen, if you haven’t changed within five hours of showing symptoms, you won’t survive without medical assistance.”

Laura spoke, breaking off Keisha’s professorial lecture. “Keisha, I have to tell you, I’m amazed at how you’ve managed to keep your head and do scientific research under what have to be the worst conditions ever.”

Keisha shrugged. “We all do what we have to do. Besides… it’s probably why I haven’t lost my mind or killed myself.”

“And from what I’ve heard, I respect that too,” Laura added.