"And some of them will have ‘symptoms'. They'll be injected with something harmless—I don't know what. I didn't ask. My only requirement was that it had to be something that wouldn't be dangerous but would cause reactions. It's necessary to make this believable, but liable to escalate their fears."
Danika swallowed against the knot of fear that wedged in her throat, staring at him wide-eyed. “I'll be injected with something?"
He shook his head. “Not you—the others. You'll have to pretend symptoms."
She frowned. “Why not? I mean, if it isn't dangerous anyway."
"It isn't dangerous. I swear it. We're trying to protect them."
"But...?"
"Because I'm not willing to take
any
risk with you!” he growled impatiently. “No matter how harmless something is ordinarily, you can never predict when someone might have an allergic reaction."
His concern warmed her. His insistence relieved her, and yet she had a feeling there was more to it than he'd told her. She wasn't certain what. She trusted him. She was sure he was convinced the only threat to the uninfected was the werewolves, but maybe he didn't completely trust whoever was behind the quarantine?
They told her to leave her truck. She wasn't certain if that was because it had a flat tire and they didn't want to take the time to change it or if they just didn't trust her to follow their orders. She was leery about climbing on the back of a motorcycle. She'd never ridden on one before, but it wasn't one of those things on her ‘must try’ list. She rode with Jared. Remembering what Dakota had said about drawing straws, she supposed they'd settled it beforehand. None of the others seemed particularly pleased when Jared led her to his bike, but they didn't say anything.
It was actually exhilarating in a terrifying way, she reflected when they pulled off onto a narrow back road and parked the bikes. She was almost too wobbly legged to walk with any dignity. Amusement gleamed in Con's eyes when he helped her climb into the back of the emergency vehicle waiting for them. “You look a little pale, baby. Everything ok?"
She gave him a look. “Ha! Ha!” she said tartly.
Grabbing a bag from the back as she settled, Con hauled it out and unzipped it. The five stripped down while she watched openmouthed, so mesmerized by all the beautiful male flesh that she hardly noticed, at first, what they were pulling from the bag. Hazmat suits, she discovered. The suits transformed them into grim strangers. The uneasiness she'd felt before returned.
It magnified tenfold when they reached the outskirts of town and she caught her first glimpse of the pandemonium. Men armed with wicked looking military rifles were going from house to house, either herding people out or dragging them out. A steady stream of people hurried along main street, clogging traffic and creating the first and probably last traffic jam the town had ever witnessed.
Dakota, who was driving, pulled the vehicle to a stop as they neared the edge of town. The rear doors were flung open and Balin, Con, Jared, and Dakota leapt out, turning and motioning for her to follow them. Her heart was beating against her chest wall suffocatingly as Balin helped her out, clamped a hand along one upper arm and escorted her to the building everyone was pouring into.
The others parted company with them once she was in line, vanishing in the thick tangle of humanity and blending with the other men surrounding them dressed in similar suits. Balin stayed with her, but it was impossible to talk over the noise. In any case, she was fairly certain he mostly stayed to make sure she went in.
The place was a mad house, but the man standing at the door directed her to an area that had been set up ‘soup kitchen’ style. The huge doors closed while she was still struggling to put food in her empty stomach.
The sound of bolts being shoved into place on the outside was probably the scariest part of the entire process. Uneasiness gave way to all out fear. She struggled with it, reminding herself that Balin had specifically asked her to do whatever she could to help everyone stay calm. Giving in to hysteria sure as hell wouldn't have the desired effect.
And she had no excuse. She at least knew what was going on, knew the entire elaborate production was merely for show.
It felt too real, though. She got up when someone announced over a PA system that everyone who'd eaten should move to the examination and decontamination area. She hadn't been prepared for that. She must have heard ‘just a precaution’ a hundred times before she'd run the gamut. Decontamination was a really unpleasant surprise. They were ordered to strip down and ‘fumigated’ with something they'd cooked up to seem to be a decontamination shower. The women had been separated from the men, but all of the hazmat team, as far as she could see, was made up of men. The men waiting at the other flicked an indifferent glance over her and then did a double take, staring at her more closely.
She'd covered herself the best she could with the square of cloth they'd given her that wasn't a hell of a lot bigger than a hanky but she felt hideously exposed in all her flawed glory. She realized after a moment, though, that both men were staring at the marks on her neck, both of which had begun to fade but were still visible. Embarrassed about her ‘passion’ marks, she hitched one shoulder, unwilling to let go of her towel.
One of the men jerked his chin at the other. The man caught her arm and pulled her to one side, looking her over frowningly. “You're the prince's woman?"
Danika gaped at him.
"Balin Chevalier?"
She felt her face redden. She was damned if she could figure out how he might have arrived at such a conclusion just from the marks on her neck—particularly since Balin had only contributed one of them. Apparently he took the blush as a yes. Handing her a jumpsuit that felt like it was made from paper, he waited while she struggled to pull it on and preserve her modesty at the same time and then walked her over to an examination area.
The woman he spoke to was the first she'd seen. She lifted her head, stared at Danika for a long moment and then motioned to her to sit down on the examination table. The man stayed, watching her every move. The examination wasn't intrusive, thankfully. “This is just a precaution,” the woman recited, picking up a filled syringe from a tray beside the examination table.
Danika stared at the thing in dismay. Balin had assured her she wouldn't be injected.
The man took the syringe from her hand, glared at her, and slapped another in her palm—this one minus a needle.
The woman's lips tightened, but she went through the motions of injecting Danika and then told her she was done. Relieved, Danika sent the man a grateful smile when she climbed down. He nodded without smiling back, took her arm again and escorted her past the waiting line and to an area where cots had been setup.
The waiting ground down her anxiety after a while. Apparently, it began to have the same effect on everybody else. The volume dwindled. Someone put music on. It blared through the scratchy speakers that had been set up here and there, more annoying than soothing.
The volume wasn't lowered even when people began to settle on the cots to sleep and she finally realized it was a precaution to keep them from hearing whatever was going on outside the building. The moment she did, her anxiety was back full force, focused this time on ‘her’ guys and most particularly on Dakota, who wasn't recovered enough in her opinion from the last battle to take part in anything too dangerous. They hadn't really told her what they expected to happen, but she knew it had to be bad for them to have gone to so much trouble. She managed to worry herself into a fitful sleep after a while, trying to remember just how many days it took for the moon to wane. She didn't remember from school and she'd never paid enough attention to the waning and waxing of the moon cycles to know—days, she was sure, wondering if, once they went through transition the
weres
remained beasts until the waning allowed them to resume their human forms. What she knew about it could've filled a thimble, she thought with disgust, wishing she'd asked them more questions.
Not that it was likely to have done her any good. She knew their secret now, but they were still secretive, unwilling to share any more than absolutely necessary. She supposed she could see their side of the situation. She wasn't one of them. She doubted they really had that much trust in her keeping their secret to herself.
They obviously hadn't considered the unlikelihood that anyone would actually believe her.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
"Who picked the music?” Con growled irritably, shoving the hood of his hazmat suit off his head and raking his fingers through his sweat dampened hair.
Balin sent him a level look. “You have a problem with the classics?"
Jared grinned. “Not me. I don't mind shooting
weres
in time to a waltz. The battle of Maynard set to Strauss. Real classy."
Xavier nodded, carefully screwing the silencer on the barrel of his rifle. “Good mood music."
"We don't shoot unless we have to,” Balin reminded them. “Warning shots first."
Dakota sent him a sour look. “We know the drill, Balin."
Balin studied him coolly for a moment, but didn't comment.
"I don't know why you're in such a sour fucking mood,” Con growled. “You're the one Dani was wallowing all over while ago."
Dakota slid a hot glance in Balin's direction. “Not the only one,” he growled.
"And not your fucking business,” Balin said coldly.
"It's a damned good thing we had you and Dakota to test your theory, huh?"
Balin glanced at Jared. “It wasn't a theory. It's a known fact."
"But you tried it anyway?” Con ground out.
Balin gave him a long stare and finally looked away.
"This fact you gave us,” Dakota asked tightly, “it doesn't just happen to mention in there anywhere that it binds the male even though it doesn't the female, does it?"
Balin didn't look at him, scanning the streets beyond instead. “The moment a male wolfen starts to think about marking his woman, he's already lost the war."
Dakota stared at his profile angrily for a long moment and finally turned to watch the men finishing up the ‘moat’ they'd made around the perimeter of the safe house and filled with fuel. It seemed doubtful it would discourage the
weres
—they were going to be too crazed to react like any normal creature to fire—but it would at least silhouette them for an easy shot if they breached it, he thought derisively. Maybe, between the fire and the gunfire, they could convince most of them to steer clear, but he doubted it.
He just hoped none of the other men got gun happy. They hated
weres
.
"When this is over, we need to settle our dispute,” he said finally. “I can't handle this sharing shit."
"Assuming, of course, we're in any shape to settle it,” Jared retorted shortly.
Xavier shrugged. “Actually, it ain't half bad. I never would've thought I'd like it, but it was pretty damned good."
Jared uttered a snarl and kicked him the head. It took Con and Balin a good ten minutes to separate the two of them.