Laura's Wolf (Werewolf Marines) (23 page)

BOOK: Laura's Wolf (Werewolf Marines)
4.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I’ve got patients to look out for. Not just patients—pack. Gregor and Donnie are sociopaths, obviously, but Nicolette and Miguel and Russell are great people. I’d do anything for them. And I can’t help them if I’m dead or catatonic.”

Keisha tilted her head, observing Laura closely. “You seem like a good person, too. I’d let you go if I could, but… look, I’ll be straight with you. Nicolette’s security and Miguel’s an engineer, but Russell is nothing but a bank account, as far as Gregor’s concerned. And Gregor’s got other sources of funds now. Russell’s expendable. Gregor informed me that if I help anyone escape, he’ll kick Russell out of the pack. Russell’s not a hard case like Nicolette. He wouldn’t last three weeks.”

“I understand,” Laura said, and meant it.

Laura had been deliberately trying to befriend Keisha when she’d praised her, but she’d been sincere, too. Keisha was a victim, not a villain, forced into choices no one should ever have to make. She and Laura would probably never even have met under normal circumstances—a brilliant ER doctor would hardly pal around with a con artist who hadn’t even gone to college—but if Laura was the sort of person who knew how to make real friends, Keisha was the sort of woman she’d have wanted as one.

“I’ve told you everything now,” Keisha said, her beautiful eyes gone dull. “There’s nothing more to say.”

“Just give me a few minutes. Please?”

“Of course,” Keisha said, looking embarrassed. “Take your time. Honestly, as much as you like. Gregor won’t start knocking on the door for at least an hour. I’ll just… leave you to your thoughts.”

Keisha turned her back and started sorting pill bottles. Or, more likely, pretended to sort pill bottles.

Laura reached inside herself for that clear bright place beyond fear, where she could find exactly the right words to con Keisha into letting her go.

That perfect calm evaded her. She sat on the cold metal table with her arms and face stinging, her feet dangling, and her thoughts spinning round and round in useless circles.

Laura could probably stall Gregor for a couple hours, but not for two days. Keisha wouldn’t help her for fear of getting Russell killed. By the time Roy came, Laura would be irrevocably bound to Gregor…

…or not.

There had to be some crucial piece of information Laura was missing that would explain why DJ thought Roy could recover in America without him. If she could only figure it out, it might allow Gregor’s pack of traumatized hostages to escape. If they could, she was sure, they’d turn on him. But she had no idea what that clue might be.

On the other hand, Laura was with a woman who seemed ideally suited to figuring out a logical-scientific-medical puzzle involving werewolves.

Laura began concocting a story that was similar to Roy’s, but didn’t involve him. Then she stopped, biting her lip. She didn’t know much about science, but she did know that seemingly unimportant pieces of information could be crucial. If she lied about anything at all, she could prevent Keisha from reaching the right conclusion.

Laura’s only chance was to
not
con her: to tell the unvarnished truth and trust a woman who had every reason to betray her.

Hoping she wasn’t making the worst mistake of her life, Laura cleared her throat. When Keisha turned, Laura beckoned her close.

“Is this room really sound-proofed?” Laura whispered in her ear.

“Yes. I swear.”

“All right.” Laura kept her voice low anyway. “First, let me ask you a question: has anyone in the pack ever met any werewolves other than Gregor and the people he personally changed?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so,” said Laura. “So everything you know, you heard from Gregor.”

“Yes, and I realize that he could be saying anything to keep us in line. But I’ve also personally seen proof of a lot of what he’s told us.”

“Well, I’ve met another werewolf,” Laura said. “Let me tell you what I know…”

Praying that she wasn’t going to get Roy killed by revealing his weaknesses, Laura recapped how she’d met Roy, what was wrong with him, and how he’d been changed. She told Keisha what had really happened to Roy on the drive, and how she’d tricked Nicolette. She even told Keisha that she was a con artist, since so much of Laura’s story made no sense without that knowledge and Gregor had obviously already told the pack what a good liar she was.

Keisha listened intently, nodding, occasionally asking a question. At the end, she held up her trembling hands. “Look at that. My hands never shake.”

“Fear can do that.”

Keisha shook her head. “It’s not fear. It’s hope.”

Laura’s heart lifted. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Yes, of course.” Keisha sounded mildly surprised that anyone might think she could ever not have ideas. Ticking her ideas off her fingers, she began, “One. DJ is a born wolf, but Gregor is a made wolf. Werewolves created by made wolves may need their sires more than werewolves created by born wolves.”

“But Roy’s having huge problems,” Laura objected.

“That could be because he was critically wounded at the time of his change. Also, we have no idea what was done to him at the lab. His condition may be the result, whether intended or accidental, of some procedure that was performed there.”

“I’m glad I asked you. Neither of those even occurred to me. But if Gregor’s a made wolf, where’s his sire?”

“Excellent question,” said Keisha. Laura felt absurdly pleased at her approval, as if she was back in high school and had gotten an A+. “I’m only guessing Gregor is a made wolf, based on his power. Of course, he could have been lying about all that, too. If he was telling the truth, I assume becoming a sire yourself replaces your own need for one.”

“Ugh. I assume that’s not an option.”

“Certainly not.” Keisha looked appalled, then held up a second finger. “Two. DJ had decided that if Roy didn’t come back soon enough, he’d join up with him somehow, but it didn’t work out because Roy was kidnapped.”

“That sounds awfully chancy,” Laura said.

“True, but Roy was dying. Maybe DJ thought some chance was better than no chance. Three. DJ meant to have Roy join his family’s pack. Maybe you don’t need your sire, you only need someone related to your sire.”

Laura turned that over in her mind. “Does Gregor have family?”

“Who knows?” Keisha said with a shrug. “He’s a complete mystery to all of us. Four. DJ meant to have Roy join his family’s pack. Gregor lied to us, and we don’t need our sire at all. We just need
a
pack.”

“I like four,” Laura said. “Have any of you ever tried running off together?”

“No. I’ve only seen Nicolette and Amy run away, and both of them did it right after they were made, a year apart from each other. Neither of them knew anyone else well at that point.”

“So maybe you could all get away, so long as you left together.”

“Maybe.” Keisha frowned. “I haven’t finished my scenarios. Five. The sire controls whether or not you need him. Gregor is making sure we do need him, but DJ tried to make it so Roy could survive without him. Roy isn’t doing that well due to the complicating factors I mentioned earlier.”

Laura rubbed her forehead. She’d had a stress headache since she’d gotten in the car, and it was only getting worse. “If that’s true, then if Gregor was dead, you wouldn’t need him.”

“Or if Gregor was dead, his previous intentions would continue to be operative, and we’d all end up committing suicide,” Keisha replied. “I’ve presented you with some possibilities, but trying to directly test them would be extremely high-risk. To say the least. I’d prefer to gather more information before I try anything.”

“I have a source of information. Not Roy: DJ’s family. If I could get out of here, I could drive down right now and ask them.”

“Yes…” Keisha said thoughtfully. “I wish I could consult with Russell, but I’m sure he’d tell me it’s a risk worth taking, if it would set him free. Set all of us free.”

“If you help me go, I’ll do everything I can to get all of you out of this hellhole,” Laura vowed. “I’m sure once I tell Roy what’s going on, he’ll feel the same way. And he’s much more useful than me. I’m only a con artist. Roy’s a
werewolf Marine.

“That’s true,” Keisha replied. For the first time, she looked amused. “But don’t sell yourself short. You can drive a car and turn on the lights.”

“I’m serious,” Laura said, irritated.

“So am I. Let me think about it.”

Laura waited, not for Keisha to take the bait, but for her to make a free, informed decision. It was a very strange feeling, under the circumstances. Laura would have felt more confident if she
had
conned Keisha.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Keisha said at last. “You were honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you. You never asked me what my power is.”

Laura, unused to the whole idea of powers, had forgotten about them. “What is it?”

“Precognitive impulses,” Keisha said. “I get the feeling that it would be a good idea to do something, and I find out why later.”

“And you guys all have powers? What are they?”

“Russell can light fires. Miguel can find things. Anything. Lost car keys. People. And Donnie can inflict pain.”

“Not by breaking your arm, I take it.”

“He looks at you, and you drop to the ground in agony. It feels like your entire body is on fire.” Keisha spoke without fear or horror or any emotion at all, like someone who had screamed until they lost their voice. “Anyway, the reason Gregor built his lair in Yosemite is because I had a feeling that it would be crucial for him and his pack to do so. When he asked Miguel where you were and Miguel told him you were on your way to Yosemite, Gregor assumed that my precognition was because you were destined to be his mate and the pack’s alpha female.”

“Seriously?” Laura was repulsed.

“Gregor seriously believes it. But that feeling was slightly more specific than usual. I had a feeling that if we all moved to Yosemite, the pack would be freed and he’d go down. How, I had no idea.” Keisha’s full lips curved into a distinctly evil smile, incongruous on her lovely face. “But that certainly would be
crucial
for him and his pack. You’re not the only one who’s figured out how Nicolette’s power works.”

“So if you let me go, I might be the reason you all get your lives back.”

“I hope so. He’ll have Nicolette question me, but under the circumstances, I think she’ll risk lying.” Apologetically, Keisha added, “Also, I owe you one. I had a feeling he ought to set up a road block this morning.”

Laura chuckled. “I forgive you. But how do I get out of here? Is there a secret passage? Or will we both have to charge Donnie?”

“Neither. In a way, it’s good that Gregor’s so creepily smitten with you. He’ll believe you can do anything. He told us all about what you did at the—”

“What’s the idea?” Laura asked hastily.

Keisha fished in a drawer, then produced a small pinkish square, like a nicotine patch. “Stick this on Donnie’s skin without him noticing, then stall for all you’re worth. It’ll knock him out, but it’ll take a few minutes. The closer you can get it to his head, the faster it’ll work. I’ll tell Gregor you must have stolen it while my back was turned.”

Laura took it. “Thanks. Any idea how could I get it on Donnie?”

“Say there’s a fly on his head and ask him to hold still so you can swat it?”

“I’ll think of something,” Laura said politely. “Thanks, Keisha. It might take Roy and me a while to find out what you need to know and get back in touch with you. But I promise, we won’t leave you behind.”

She took a minute to come up with a better idea for getting a knockout patch on a hit man than saying something incredibly suspicious and then smacking him upside the head, then told Keisha her plan.

Laura crouched down and hyperventilated, then quickly stood up. The blood drained from her head, making her dizzy and, she hoped, leaving her pale.

She took a second to get into character as Roy in transparent denial of feeling horrible. Then she opened the door, leaning on it for support. Donnie was alone in the corridor with a gun in his hand and expensive leather shoes on his feet.

“Are-you-certain-the-nausea-has-subsided?” Keisha recited, somewhat robotically. “I-have-a-basin-if-you-need-to-vomit.”

Laura swallowed audibly, hoping to distract Donnie from Keisha’s non-existent acting skills. “I’m fine. Come on, Donnie, let’s get this over with.”

Keisha closed the door.

Donnie shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between staying close enough to Laura to control her and keeping his feet out of puking range. “Let’s go.”

They started walking. Laura gave it a count of ten, then hunched over. Using Roy in the car as her model, she said, “I need a bathroom. Now.”

“Hang on!”

Donnie grabbed her by the sleeve and yanked her forward, holding her at arm’s length. Laura doubled over, gagging loudly, her mouth aimed at his shoes. As Donnie hauled her up, she slapped the patch onto the back of his neck, then grabbed wildly at a few more parts of his body.

He roughly disentangled her, pushed her into a bathroom, and slammed the door. Laura staggered to the toilet, making sure her shoes clicked across the floor, then dropped to her knees, flung up the lid with a bang, and made the most realistic retching sounds she could manage.

She was starting to feel genuinely sick from all that gagging when she heard one of the most welcome sounds she’d heard in her life: the thud of a large body falling to a wooden floor.

Laura took off her shoes, crept silently to the door, and started to open it. It stuck halfway, blocked by Donnie’s dead weight on the floor. She crammed herself through the narrow opening, bruising her hips, and took Donnie’s car keys out of his pocket and the gun from where it lay beside his hand.

She shoved the keys in her pocket and fled barefoot through the halls, clutching the gun in one hand and the shoes in the other. All she needed was a head start. She’d burn rubber back to the cabin, tell Roy what happened, and ask him whether he thought they’d be better off defending the cabin or hiding in the woods. It seemed like the sort of thing he’d know.

Other books

Dirty Aristocrat by Georgia Le Carre
Prey (Copper Mesa Eagles Book 2) by Roxie Noir, Amelie Hunt
Moth to the Flame by Joy Dettman
Boston Cream by Howard Shrier
Fun Camp by Durham, Gabe
Phantom of the Wind by Charlotte Boyett-Compo