“Fine, ask Elisssabeth.”
He shook his head. “Can’t. She’s busy.” He held out the bottle. “Chug-a-lug.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” he snapped as he pointed to the cage next to her. “He hasn’t got much time left.”
She stared at him, wondering if she understood what he wanted. “You’ve activated his bear DNA, but the shift is unstable. And somehow you think me drinking that shit will help.”
He released a sigh that seemed to come from his toes. Like he was tired of explaining his nuttiness to people less smart. “It’s very simple,” he said. “I’ve activated his shifter DNA. I’ve started the process with yours. Thanks to your father, we’ve got the ingredients that force a chemical scent.”
“The magic potion?”
He snorted. “Magic is simply something the ancients didn’t understand. I do. Drink this and your skin will secrete a scent that should cause a reaction in his brain. Call them pheromones, if you must. You and he will sync like a baby syncs with its mother.”
“Bonding,” she said, finally understanding what he meant.
“Chemical reaction in the brain,” he corrected. “But with measurable effects.”
“You think it’ll stabilize him.”
He shrugged. “It’s his only chance.”
She stared at him, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. She came up with nothing.
“Or I could knock you unconscious and pour it down your throat,” he said. “Though you might choke while I’m at it.”
God help her, she considered it. But she couldn’t do anything unconscious, so she took the bottle from his outstretched hand. Mark had said there wasn’t anything poisonous in it. Just indigestion and killer BO. So with a sigh, she took a tentative sip. Not bad if you liked drinking clove and vinegar. Ugh.
“All of it. Now.” There was no quarter in his expression. She really did believe that if she stalled any longer, he was going to find a way to knock her out.
Which meant she had to go for it. She plugged her nose and chugged, though the last bits were choked down more than swallowed. He grabbed the empty bottle from her hand while she was still gagging. Then he stood up with a pleased smile.
“Excellent. And while we’re waiting for your scent to kick in, let’s talk about your father’s research. Why the hell would he put his own notes in code?”
She shrugged and tried not to retch. “It’s shorthand.”
“So translate it.”
She looked at him, gratified that she’d guessed correctly before. But just to be sure, she asked the obvious question. “Is that why you attacked the cabin a few days ago? To get me to translate it?”
He rolled his eyes. “You might have noticed that those gentlemen were unstable as well.” He glanced at the creature in the cage. “Though they did hold it together longer than him.”
She held silent, watching his eyes. She’d never known a man yet who couldn’t resist crowing about something he knew and others didn’t. It only took a minute before he started talking again.
“Let me explain,” he said, condescension in every syllable. “Elisabeth’s immediate family was killed by the wolves, but she had relatives in Phoenix. Not full shifters, but with the cougar DNA. I developed the formula for activating it enough for them to partially shift. But it’s unstable without her.”
“Why? What’s so special about her?”
“Exactly!” he crowed like she was a prize pupil. “She called it bonding. She held her relatives and sang to them. But I noticed the scent.”
“So she has cougar pheromones that stabilized her kin.”
He snorted. “Not enough. She brought twelve of her relatives to me for help. There are only four left now.”
Good. The fewer insane baddies, the better.
“Whatever is stabilizing them isn’t working as well. That’s why we needed your father’s recipes.”
