stupid. Everybody seems to know some sort of secret that you don't and that makes them better than
you.»
I reached over and petted her wispy hair. «The school's that bad, huh?»
«Sometimes. It's okay usually. But there are mean people and they do nasty things, and if you
call them on it, they make it seem like you just don't get it.» She squeezed her hands into tight fists
and said through clenched teeth, «They make me so mad. If we were on the street, I'd punch them.
But if I do punch them, that will just mean I can't win by their dumb rules.»
«Well, then you know exactly how I felt.» I could do the punching. Punching was easy. It was
the clever banter and dealing in convoluted half-truths and almost-lies that made me want to jump
out of my skin.
«So what did you do?»
«I made my way down through the room, and this group of young shapeshifters barred my way
and started making lots of noise. I knew Curran had put them up to it to see what I would do. One
of them reached out and touched me, and I took him over with a power word and made him guard
me against the rest.»
«Derek,» Julie guessed.
«Yep. And then it turned into this huge complicated deal, because Curran thought I was
challenging him by taking his wolf . . .» I waved my hand. «In the end, Derek swore a blood oath to
protect me so Curran wouldn't have to kill him. He's released from the oath now, but you
remember how he is. He decided he's responsible for me and I feel responsible for his ass-«
With a hoarse scream, Derek jerked upright and ripped the IV tubes from his arms.
«Get Doolittle!» I lunged to the tank.
Gnarled hands gripped me. Deranged eyes flared white from the mangled face. He clawed at me,
crushing my arms, agonizing screams ripping from him.
«Safe,» I yelled into his ear. «It's okay, it's okay . . .»
His skin bulged, ready to rip. The dark slash of his mouth gaped open. «Hurrrts! Hurts, it hurts!»
And then Doolittle was there with a syringe and Raphael's long fingers clenched Derek's wrists,
pushing pressure points to make him let go, but Derek hung on to me with desperate ferocity. The
pull of his arms jerked me off my feet and dragged me into the vat. He clung to my shoulders,
gouging my skin.
«Hurts!»
«Get her out!» Doolittle sank the needle into Derek's arm with no effect. «The pain's too much!
He's going loup!»
Raphael wrestled Derek's arms, trying to separate him from me, but Derek just held on tighter.
Doolittle dropped the syringe and grabbed Derek's left wrist. Fangs cut through Derek's disfigured
lips.
«Get her out!» Doolittle screamed.
Someone thrust a piece of bloody meat into Derek's mouth. He released me and clutched on to
the meat, shredding it. Bloody juice and flesh flew everywhere. I got the hell out of the vat.
On the other side of the tank, Jim dangled another raw rib eye before Derek. Derek snapped it
from his fingers and ripped into it in a frenzy.
Jim's melodious voice was sweet like a lullaby. «Eat, wolf. Eat. Safe now. That's it. Eat. Leave
the madness behind.»
The terrible battered thing that was Derek snarled and stabbed the meat into its mouth. The eerie,
juicy sounds of a predator feeding filled the room. I shook the green crap off my arms and caught
sight of Julie in the doorway, pale like a wraith, eyes fixed on Derek.
Jim pushed her out of the way, stepped out of the room, and carried in a trough filled with
hamburger meat. He set the trough on the floor. Derek went down on all fours. His broken legs gave
out and he crashed face-first into the meat. I marched to the door and took Julie by the shoulder.
She tugged my hand off. «No.»
«We don't need to see this.»
In the corner Doolittle swung a heavy leather case onto the table and popped it open. Metal
blades gleamed in a neat row.
«But . . .»
«No.»
I pushed her out of the room. Raphael closed the door behind us and helped me carry screaming
Julie away.
THE KITCHEN CABINETS CONTAINED WOODEN jars identified by handwritten adhesive
labels. The jar labeled SUGAR had flour in it. The jar labeled FLOUR held an enormous amount of
chili powder, which made me sneeze. The jar labeled CHILI PEPPER contained a Smith & Wesson
M&P 45. I growled. I had fallen asleep next to Julie on the couch and woken up five hours later,
unable to form rational thoughts because my head pounded.
«Looking for something?» Dali came up from the hallway.
«No, I'm dancing the can-can.» Ask a dumb question . . .
Dali blinked at me. «Would you mind making coffee while you're dancing? I smell it on the