Page 50 of Bad Blood Wolf

Chapter 17

Brody was falling asleep again where he sat, so they put him to bed in Tristan’s old room, at the back of the cabin across from Tank.

Then Flynn, Jasmin and Tank went upstairs to Flynn’s office to get Tristan on a video call, while Sloan and Xander went over to the fight barn to pick up Brody’s car.

“I think he mumbled something about a spare key in the wheel well,” Jasmin told them.

Sloan gave her an insulted look. “You really think we can’t break into an old Chevelle within fifteen seconds?” he said. “Please.”

Xander just shook his head.

It was good to see Tristan’s face on the screen. Everyone in the crew missed his quiet presence—though not his frequent bouts of crazy. Jasmin hoped he was doing better in Idaho, working with the healers there.

She hoped he could help Brody, and Brody would let him.

Flynn updated Tristan on Brody’s story. They already had told him about the drugs, and he had a few answers there—as well as more questions.

“The info the drug dealer gave you checks out, as far as it goes,” Tristan said. “Assuming he was telling the truth about what the compounds were, one is an aggression suppressor targeted specifically to the neurological systems that trigger certain areas of the brain only shifters use. Here’s where it gets weird, though. Another one is a memory suppressor, and a third is a memory enhancer we’ve used to help recover memories in people who’ve had theirs wiped, either by magical or chemical means. Why this guy would be trying to dig up memories and suppress them at the same time, I have no idea.”

“Maybe that childhood trauma Brody mentioned,” Tank suggested. “The enhancers to recover the memory, and then the suppressors to bury it again if it raises this Monster Wolf he talked about?”

“Maybe,” Tristan said. “Best way to tell that is to ask him.”

Yeah. Good luck with that. Jasmin had a feeling there was still a lot Brody wasn’t telling them.

By the look on his face, Flynn was thinking the same thing. “What’s the fourth one?” he asked. “The one he couldn’t get?”

“I talked to Rachelle and Mina,” he said, naming two of the Silverlake pack’s researchers he worked with. “Neither of them has heard of it, but from the description it seems like a more powerful memory enhancer. If it works, we’d all like to get our hands on some of it, to tell the truth.”

Two memory enhancers, and a memory suppressor.

“So he’s decided he’d rather remember than forget?” Flynn asked.

Tristan said, “Whatever he’s doing, he’s crazy to be doing it on his own. Is there any way you can convince him to come out here?”

No. He hadn’t gone before when he had the chance, and Jasmin knew in the pit of her stomach he wouldn’t go now, either. There was more to this story.

Flynn seemed to feel the same way. “Probably not. But I can’t keep him here the way he is. He’s a loose cannon, and I don’t know who his drug dealer is connected to. If hunters come for him—”

Jasmin bit her lips. She knew Flynn didn’t want to throw Brody under the bus, but she also knew he’d put the crew first. And Brody wasn’t one of them, no matter how she might be starting to feel about him.

Jasmin swallowed her pride. “Is there any way you can come out here and talk to him, Tris? Please? I know it’s only two days until Christmas, and you want to spend it with your sister, but… maybe after that?”

Tristan gazed at her, his eyes softening. “Sure, Jaz,” he said. “Sit tight. I might be able to get there sooner than you think. I’ll keep you posted.”

They ended the call. Jasmin was gripping the loft railing, staring out the windows that filled the peaked roof. It had started to snow, she realized. They were going to have a white Christmas.

Flynn was still sitting at the desk, staring unseeingly at the blank computer screen, his face dark and brooding. Tank looked from one of them to the other, sensing the tension in the air.

“I think I’ll just go downstairs and… do something,” he said, beating a retreat.

When he was gone, Flynn swung the desk chair around.

“What is this wolf to you, Jaz?” he asked. “Is he your mate?”

Jasmin turned around, startled. “What? No. Are you crazy?”

He couldn’t be her mate. Not a true mate, like Flynn meant. An instant, soul-deep destiny kind of mate. Jags didn’t do that. Jasmin didn’t do that.