Jaxon ran into the living room andcrashed on the couch, putting his arms behind his head and making himself rightat home. “Please tell me you have a TV,” he begged as Nahuel walked into theliving room behind us.
With a chuckle, he walked over to thewall above the fire place where a beautiful, thick silk Native Indian tapestrywas draped over something. He gingerly pulled the cloth off to reveal a seventy-inchplasma TV.
“I like watchingChoppedwhile Icook,” he explained.
My mouth was literally agape. “Who areyou?” I asked and only elicited another smile from my mysterious shaman.
I noticed my mate’s energy bristle andscolded myself for not being more in tune to him. Although Gavin hadn’t grownup with him, Nahuel was technically his grandfather and they still had arelationship that was held at a distance.
Ever since we had found out that Mukeshhad raped Gavin’s young mother and left her for dead, Gavin had a hard timeadjusting to this side of the family. Who wouldn’t? But it was hard for me toside with either of them. I understood my mate’s anger that he was put up foradoption and raised with humans, not given any information about his magicalgifts. But I also understood that Nahuel looked for Gavin and couldn’t findhim. Nahuel had been grieving his daughter, Haseya, and eventually he wrotethem both off as gone. Seeing this house, where his grandfather lived, had tomake Gavin uncomfortable. I tried to send love and support through our bond butit felt closed down at the moment. Sometimes, when either of us was reallymoody or wanted privacy, we tightened the bond, so I wasn’t really worried. Hewas just processing stuff.
The TV came blaring to life behind me andI turned to see Jax flipping through the channels. When I saw a newswoman and apicture of a werewolf I shouted, “Stop!”
Jaxon froze on the channel and we allstepped closer to the TV.
“Breaking news here in the studio. Wehave received word that a cyber group calling themselves the Human Liberationhave uploaded free plans on the internet on how to cure a family member of anydisease.”
Dread sank in my gut as fear trickledthrough my body, making my limbs heavy. That fear quickly turned to rage. Theanger ripped through me and I had a hard time keeping hold of my form. Thewoman read the paper in front of her, her perfect red painted nails clutchingit delicately. I wanted to rip those nails right off. “It calls for detaining a… werewolf and using their plasma. This person claims to have cured his wife’scancer.”
The co-anchor looked at the blondenewswoman with skepticism, but before he could respond, the TV went green and ahigh-pitched beeping rang out before the picture was replaced by a man in ablack hoodie wearing a cheap Halloween costume mask of a wolf.
“We are the Human Liberation. What youhave heard is true. Humans, the superior race, can be healed. Anything thatails you can be reversed if you follow the plans outlined online. The bestpart? It’s legal. The government has classified werewolves in the same class asanimals. So, go on out there and get yourself a pet. It could save your life.”Then the screen went black.
“Shit!” I shouted and fisted my handsinto my hair. Avery was pacing, looking completely unhinged, Jaxon’s body was shakingwith a barely contained shift, and Gavin was positively bleeding with rage. OnlyNahuel looked semi together. As if he expected this.
“Someone get online and show me thoseinstructions. Please tell me it doesn’t call for killing the wolf!” I roared asJaxon’s fingers were already flying across the screen of the laptop he alwayskept near him, his open backpack discarded haphazardly on the floor.
“Jesus,” Jaxon breathed and we all movedacross the space to stand behind him to get a view of the laptop.
Jaxon had a video pulled up; on it wasthe same masked man and he had a naked, bleeding werewolf tied with silvershackles to a bed. The wolf-masked man looked at the camera. “Not sure if yourhairy neighbor is a wolf or not? You suspect they might be but they don’t havethe tattoo? No worries, just touch a bit of silver to them and if they react,then you have your subject.”
On the screen, the masked man touched achunk of silver to the bare-skinned man and he roared in pain as a blisterbubbled up.
“God damn bastards!” Gavin roared behindme. I reached out and laced my fingers through his, more to calm myself thanhim.
“Next you need to find out their bloodtype. They must be the same blood type as the ill family member for the plasmatransfusion to work. You can buy a simple blood type kit here.”
A link popped up on the lower portion ofthe video. “Jaxon, open that link in another window,” I told my twin.
He did.
The masked man then turned to the camera,the macabre plastic face made the anger inside of me build to epic proportions.
“Now, what if you capture a mutt and theyaren’t a match?” He held up his hands as if in dismay. “Fear not, my humanfriends. I have designed a website just for that occasion. You can trade for anothermutt with your blood type.”
Jaxon clicked the link and when thescreen opened, bile rose in my throat. There were at least a few dozen entriesalready.Captured: Female AB positive. In need of: A- (Los Angeles,California)
“Go back to the video,” I croaked out. Ineeded to see the entire thing. I felt like I needed to be a witness for thatpoor wolf the masked man had hostage. I was vaguely aware of Nahuel lighting incensein the background and waving it around us in circles. Screw incense. I neededvodka after this shit storm of a day.
Back on screen, the man now had an IV kitin his hands. “All you need to do is take four full bags of blood from therecipient. And then let it stand in the refrigerator for eight to ten hours inorder to separate the plasma.”
The werewolf was now pulling against thechains, but with so much silver on his body he couldn’t shift to his wolf. Themasked man leaned over and poked the vein in the wolf’s arm and filled up twobags before turning to look at the camera. “They heal fast so you may need topoke them multiple times.”
Avery, the medical one in our group, wascrying. “Four bags is too much all at once. One bag equals one pint. We onlyhave about six pints in us. They will be pretty much bleeding him dry. With allthat silver on him, he’ll surely die. We can’t regenerate with that much bloodloss.”
I noticed Mason was farther back in theroom not looking at the screen. He was just listening. I understood it wasn’tsomething all people could stomach, but I wouldn’t look away. I needed to see. Oncethe masked man had four bags filled, the werewolf on the table started toslowly pant and gave only a final tug of the silver chains before collapsing inweakness, eyes pinned at the ceiling.Gone.
I placed my hand on the screen as thelump in my throat turned to concrete. “I’m sorry, brother.”
