Vic took the escape and fled while the two of them watched his bobbing black ass climb the stairs. But the moment he disappeared upstairs, Alyssa turned to him.
“You think he’s okay to be wandering around?”
He arched a brow. “You’re the one who let him out, not me.”
She shrugged, a guilty flush to her cheeks. “You said he could get control, and then he did. And I hated seeing him in here.” She sighed, but her gaze didn’t soften. “Now I want to know if I was being impulsive. Does Vic belong in a cage?”
Difficult question and all he had were guesses. But to suggest that Vic should remain in a cage was to say that every young shifter belonged locked up because they might lose their temper. It didn’t work that way. Easy enough to stay calm when you were holed up in a basement watching TV. The only way to learn control was to test it. Out in the real world.
“I think I need to stick close to him just in case.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“But now I need more answers. Were there any symptoms before he started changing? Was he especially surly? Did he get sick or have a fever?”
“Yeah. I already told you he had the Detroit Flu about three days ago.”
“Tell me again.” As they spoke, he found a couple big fans and one little one. Alyssa helped, opening the appropriate storage areas with her key. Then it was a matter of judging how to best get air flowing through the basement.
“Two outbreaks. I caught the first. Vic the second. Hospitals were overrun with people spiking fevers. A lot of the old and young died. The CDC was called in, but mostly it was just an ugly bug. I felt crappy for days.”
“How many people got it?”
“Seemed like everyone. All at once.”
“And what did the CDC conclude?”
She snorted. “What does the government ever decide? Nothing. Or at least nothing that they’re telling us. But further investigation is warranted.” Her last sentence was done in a mocking accent and he couldn’t help but agree. “Well, if everyone got it, then it couldn’t have done this or everyone would be running around with fur.” Unless Vic had some preexisting genetic condition that the virus triggered. Maybe only an unlucky few were changed. “You and Vic are half siblings, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Same mother, but our dads were different.”
So Alyssa might not have the same genetic predisposition to going furry that Vic did. Maybe. Damn, he hated guessing. “We need more information.”
“Which is why we’re going to visit the Griz.”
He shook his head. “Notwe. It has to be—”
She held up her hand. “You can’t leave Vic alone. And if Vic is going with you, then I’m going as back up. If my brother loses it, you need someone to help you.” She held up the Taser with a strained smile. “Have weapon, will electrocute.”
“This is not a good idea,” he said, mentally scrambling for a valid argument.
“You remember how to read yet?”
He glanced at a magazine on the top of an open storage box. Though the hot babe cover was clear enough, the printed letters meant nothing to him. Yet.
“No,” he bit out.
“You’ll get there,” she said gently. “I’ll start teaching you as soon as we finish with the Griz.”
“I know, but—”
“And you got any way to get around Detroit without me or my car?”
He had his nose. But in the soup of urban smells, picking out the scent of grizzly-shifters would be tough. He could wander for days without getting anything.
“No, but—”
“So stop fighting it. I’m coming.”
“It’s dangerous.”
She snorted. “So is running a cash business in this neighborhood. And yet here I still stand.”
He glared at her. “I don’t like it.”
She chuckled, a warm sound that was soothing even as her words irritated him. “Oh my,” she cried in a mock southern drawl. “Someone doesn’t like my choices. Whatever will I do?”
He had no answer to that, so he flicked on the fans. The fetid air started moving. If nothing else, at least he remembered how electrical fans worked. He was sure that would help enormously as he faced a criminal gang of grizzly bear-shifters…not.
