Simon barely keeps his feet. He has only moments before he passes out. “Did you kill Tania?”
“I don’t know who the fuck that is,” Lawrence answers, his pulse unchanging.
The timeline doesn’t quite add up either. Lawrence would have been too young. He’s probably telling the truth.
“Pity.” Simon trembles with cold nausea. Maybe half a minute left. Make it count. “This would be much more satisfying if you had.”
From beneath his baggy t-shirt, Simon draws his pistol.
By the time Lawrence’s eyes widen, Simon’s finger is already tight on the trigger. The bullet has already punched through Lawrence’s chest.
Silver bullets might slow vampires and werewolves down, but plain lead is good enough for humans.
The shot saps the last of Simon’s strength. He sinks to his knees as Lawrence’s lifeless body topples. Fuck. Simon hasn’t felt this weak since the night Dima granted him the shadow-gift. Just like tonight, the strength had faded from his limbs, and darkness had swept through his slowing thoughts.
Unlike tonight, Simon hadn’tbeen alone.
Simon releases the gun with a shaking hand. Nobody has burst through the door yet, which means nobody heard the shot. Painfully, Simon pulls his phone from his back pocket.
Calling Kimiko would be the smart move. But Simon isn’t smart right now. He’s too weak and lonely to resist his own worst impulses, and he dials a number that hasn’t replied in years.
The line immediately connects to voicemail, where a cold recorded voice says, “Speak.”
Simon swallows down the bitter poison. “I need help,” he whispers.
Then he hangs up before consciousness leaves him.
Chapter 2
Cody
Waking up naked in the company basement is a terrible habit. Cody Weston scrunches his face against the torn-up carpet. His features are flat and human again. His fingers are blunt, clawless, raking through his hair. Every sense is muffled. But echoes of the wolf ache through his entire body.
The same pain as every time he shifts out of control.
“Fuck,” Cody mutters, his throat sore from snarling. The pain is tolerable. The gap in his memory is not.
He’s woken up in this basement room before. Padded walls, perfect soundproofing, a prototype security door Tobias got cheap because he knows a guy. The only furniture is a wooden bed frame and a mattress that gets replaced whenever Cody shreds it too badly.
Cody’s the reason Tobias set this room up in the first place. But last night was still the night before the full moon. Cody should have been safe.
Which is why he’d been on a job when the wolf took over.
Involuntary shifts are different from normal shifts. He can’t communicate with other people as a wolf either way—not unless they’re his pack or mate, and Cody has neither. But at least during normal shifts, Cody keeps his mind and remembers everything.
Cody shoves to his feet, body stiff and mind racing with too few clues. He clearly made it back to Atwood Security bodyguard agency, and nobody shot him up with silver. So, he must not have lost his shit completely.
He must not have hurt anyone.
Relief is tempting, but guilt and uncertainty still tangle around his guts. Cody won’t know what really happened until he talks to Tobias. The prospect fills him with a more selfish dread. He promised when Tobias hired him that the werewolf thing wouldn’t be a problem if they took precautions. He could cope without having a pack.
This sure as fuck doesn’t look like coping.
Next to the door, a plexiglass box is set into the wall. A clear pane displays the folded clothes inside, latched shut with a complicated puzzle lock. Bold red letters on the pane read:In case of emergency, use opposable thumbs.
One of the few areas in which Cody’s human form can beat his wolf.
Cody unlocks the box, then drags on the sweatpants and sweatshirt. They’re loose and comfortable, even though he’s put on muscle since he started working for Atwood. No mirrors inthe cell, so he slides on the flip-flops and grabs the last item in the emergency box—the key.
