“Everybody’s got one person. But the answer is no. And you do not want to test the Paranormal Department of Justice. Punishments are swift and brutal.”
Josh winced. “Okay. Okay.” It wasn’t okay, but that’s the way their world worked. “But my family—”
Nero sighed. They were back to that. “It’s going to suck. Even if you could have lied to your family before, you can’t now. Your aggressive nature won’t allow it. You won’t be able to sit there and pretend to be a screw-up when you aren’t.”
Josh’s jaw firmed. “I can. I will.” He lifted his chin. “I’m not going to let my family think I’m dead or sitting in prison somewhere.”
It was a direct hit, especially since whenever Nero thought about Gramps and Gran, he was beset by more guilt. Thing was, over the years, it was just one more screw-up to add to the list, so he’d been able to bury it. At least he had, until Josh dredged it up again. And maybe that was why he dug in his heels now. He did not want Josh to go testing the theory.
“You cannot contact your family. Not for a very long time. Accept it.”
Josh grinned. “We are not slaves. You told me that yourself. Once I master this wolf thing, I’m out of here.”
“That’s the problem, Josh. The wolf never gets mastered. At best, it just gets integrated. And once you’re there, you won’t want to see your family of sheep ever again. Because you might eat them.”
Josh stared for a moment. Then he did the most arrogant thing Nero had ever seen. He flicked his fingers at Nero and made a “Pfft” sound. As if he were flicking away a fly. “Challenge accepted,” he said.
Chapter 15
JOSH HADnever felt so electrified in his life. Every aspect of his life felt better, faster, and definitely more passionate. His body was more powerful and his senses snapped to alert at the most interesting times. Coffee smelled crisp, food had textures like never before, and the lust he felt whenever he looked at Nero was off the charts. Normally that would tank his concentration as he bounced between Food! Sex! Smells! But the moment he dove into the research, his hunger for knowledge skyrocketed. He wanted to learn everything about magic and monsters, but thanks to Nero’s challenge, he had a crystalline focus to his studies.
He was going to figure out the base structure beneath magic. Nero’s equation of belief = manifestation was bullshit. The world didn’t work like that, and so he set out to understand the basic laws that governed magic.
Normally the scope of that kind of project would overwhelm him in a few minutes and throw him into run-and-hide mode, but he felt sharp and determined. Everything he read was just one more data point in an ever-expanding pool of knowledge. And knowledge had always been his bulwark against an aggressive world. Sure, he couldn’t stop a bully from taking his favorite baseball cap in grade school, but he could figure out how to make a stink bomb and put it in the guy’s backpack. He’d terrorized his siblings with food that turned their pee blue and money that looked like it was on fire. And though he never made it onto any of the cool sports teams, he found friends and safety in being the innovative chemist among the science geeks.
And now he had an entire field of study that most people didn’t know existed, and he planned to crack it wide open and swim in its secrets.
That worked for less than twenty-four hours. Something about a 5:00 a.m. wake-up call the next morning completely destroyed his zest for life. He’d only fallen asleep an hour before—still in the library—and suddenly he was kicked awake by the biggest bastard of a drill sergeant he’d ever met. The guy was huge, had an Army buzzcut and the thick brow of a Neanderthal. He barked orders like he had a megaphone—which he didn’t—and he managed to terrify Josh’s sleeping brain enough that it had him stumbling outside into the Michigan winter before he’d fully cracked open his eyes.
They only good thing about Megamouth Yordan was that he appeared to be Pretty Boy’s handler, and that pleased Josh’s childish side. Let the guy who made his living smiling for a camera learn what real sweat was like. Especially since Bing looked truly miserable as he shivered in the cold.
Josh would have launched into a really bitter tirade—at least in his head—except that this predawn punishment was being handed out to the other trainers too. Nero was here, looking disgustingly awake, as were Captain M and Wiz. Those last two didn’t seem thrilled, but they did appear to grimly accept their fate as they stood—not shivering—next to Laddin and Stratos.
“Against my better judgment,” Megamouth blasted, “we’re not doing this naked. Werewolves need to get used to running around with their asses bared to the moon, but we’ll save that for another day.” He lifted his chin as if to show off that he was standing there barefoot, bare-chested, and with only a really loose pair of basketball shorts to cover his junk. “But we are going to do it barefoot, so let me see those lily-white feet now! I want to check them out before they’re covered in your own blood.” He laughed in a truly sadistic way while Captain M and Wiz toed off their slip-ons. Nero hadn’t bothered with shoes in the first place, but the rest of them just stood there gaping.
It was cold outside in the Michigan winter. And though most of the snow was gone right now, there were still patches of ice lurking in the shadows on the frozen ground.
“I suggest you take them off now,” Megamouth growled, his voice low and threatening. “Or I will take them off for you.”
“You’re not serious—” Josh argued, but he never got the rest of the words out. He’d been watching the drill sergeant, preparing for the guy to be a dick and attack him. But no, Nero was the asshole who took him down. He swiped Josh’s feet out from under him and let Josh drop face-first into the dirt. And then, before Josh could react, Nero had a knee in his back and was hauling off his shoes.
Fuck, the ground was cold.
Then Pretty Boy glared at Nero, his expression hard as he said, “Try that with me.”
Nero tossed aside Josh’s shoes, then hauled him upright by the back of his neck, as if he was trying to grab hold of the scruff of Josh’s fur, except Josh was fully human right then. And while Josh unsuccessfully tried to dislodge the guy’s hand, Nero looked at Bing.
“You’re not my problem,” he said as he apparently got tired of Josh’s struggles. He calmly swept Josh’s feet out from under him again. And while Bing watched with an amused curl to his lips, Megamouth took him down.
Or at least tried to.
Wow, Pretty Boy could fight. Josh knew very little about martial arts except what he’d learned in a college tae kwan do class. He knew there were different forms of martial arts, but that was about it. And as far as Josh could tell, Bing was a master of them all.
Bing had been looking at Josh, but the moment Megamouth moved on him, he spun and landed blow after blow. Hands and feet, he delivered both punches and kicks in a whirlwind of fury that had Josh sitting up to stare. He’d always thought martial arts was a kind of dance, but this wasn’t anything so tame. It was fury in motion. Anger, hatred, and pure testosterone.
Josh had to give it to Megamouth. The guy took it all without so much as a sound beyond the occasional grunt. And Bing was making mincemeat out of Yordan, keeping him on the defensive while he attacked nonstop.
Until Megamouth decided he’d had enough. Bing’s mistake was that he stopped short of killing Yordan. Instead, he raised his hand and froze, just like in a movie where the hero has to decide if killing the bad guy is worth the cost to his soul. It was a pristine movement worthy of an Academy Award. But this wasn’t a movie, and while Bing remained poised, thinking about what he wanted to do, Yordan made the decision for him.
