He must have been very close, because it didn't take him long. Like Samuel, he had stayed in human form. He paused at the edge of the wolves.
"Gerry, old friend," said Samuel. "It's time. Come here."
The gentle words didn't hide their power from me-or from Gerry. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled through the motionless wolves, his head down submissively. He wasn't fighting anymore.
He stopped when he neared us. I thought he'd be angry-as I would have been if someone had forced me against my will. Or maybe frightened. But I'm not a werewolf. The only emotion I could catch was resignation. He'd lost and he knew it.
Adam crouched until he sat on his heels and put his hand on Gerry's shoulder.
"Why?"
"It was my father," Gerry said. His face was calm and his voice dreamy, firmly held in the moon's call. "He was dying. Cancer, they said. I talked and talked. I begged and pleaded. Please, Papa, being a wolf is a wonderful thing. I think he was just tired of me when he agreed. Bran did it-because I couldn't bear it. And at first it was perfect. The cancer went away, and he could run."
"I heard," Adam said. "He couldn't control the wolf."
"Wouldn't." It was eerie hearing that peaceful tone while tears slid down Gerry's face. "Wouldn't. He had been a vegetarian, and suddenly he craved raw meat. He tried to set a bird's wing, and it died of fear of the thing he'd become. Bran said being a werewolf was breaking my father's heart. He couldn't-wouldn't-embrace what he was because he didn't want to be a predator. He didn't want to be like me."
Adam frowned at him. "I thought you were trying to keep Bran from exposing us to the humans."
Gerry wiped his face. "Bran said if my father was not so dominant, he would not have been able to resist the wolf. But the more he resists, the less control he has. He almost killed my sister."
"Gerry." Samuel's voice was firm. "What does this have to do with Adam?"
Gerry lifted his head. He couldn't meet Samuel's eyes, or Adam's, so he looked at me. "When you fight," he said, "the wolf and the man become one. It would only take once. Just once and my father would be whole."
"He didn't want Adam to fight Bran," I said suddenly. "Did you, Gerry? That's why you weren't concerned with all the silver your men were pumping into him. Did you want to kill him?"
He looked at me with his father's eyes and said, "Adam had to die."
"You don't care about Bran's decision to expose the werewolves, do you?" asked Samuel.
Gerry smiled at him. "I've been arguing for it ever since the fae came out. But I needed money to set my plan up, and there are a lot of wolves who don't want to come out in public view-and they were willing to pay for it."
It was suddenly clear. And Samuel was right. Gerry wasn't stupid: he was brilliant.
"Buying new werewolves from Leo in Chicago, the drug experiments, the attack on Adam's house; they were all intended to do two things," I said. "To show Bran that you were behind them all, and to prove to your father that you weren't."
He nodded.
"Adam had to die," I said, feeling my way. "But you couldn't kill him. That's why you left him to the mercies of your werewolves when he was still drugged. That's why you stayed away from the warehouse, hoping that your men would pump enough silver into Adam to kill him."
"Yes. He had to die and not by my hand. I had to be able to look my father in the eye and tell him that I hadn't killed Adam."
I was shivering because it was cold and my arm, which had been surprisingly quiet for the past few minutes, began to hurt again. "It wasn't Adam you wanted to fight Bran, it was your father. You were counting on Bran going to your father as soon as he figured out what you were doing."
"My father called me this afternoon," Gerry said. "Bran had asked him about the tranquilizer and told him that I might be behind the attacks on Adam. My father knows I want the wolves to quit hiding. He knows how I feel about animal experimentation and the way some Alphas exploit some of our new wolves. He knows I'd never try to kill Adam."
"If Adam died, my father would tell yours before he came here to kill you," Samuel said.
Gerry laughed. "I don't think so. I think Bran would have come here and killed me for my crimes. I hoped he would. I have killed too many innocents. But when he told my father what I had done, my father wouldn't believe him."
"Believing the Marrok had you executed for something you didn't do, Carter would challenge him." Samuel sounded almost admiring. "And my father couldn't refuse the challenge."
"What if Bran talked to Dr. Wallace first?" I asked.