She even dragged her tongue across her lower lip. Something was up with this.

  “Just try and be as expeditious as possible if you can.”

  “I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary on my day off. That I assure you of.”

  She motioned to her guys to bring the body. I watched the two men move to the back of the van, unlocking the door.

  Why were they being cautious about opening it? Maybe I’d seen one too many movies, but this had an air of complete oddity to it.

  “What can you tell me that might prove helpful and allow me to be more expeditious?”

  The agent waited until the two men pulled the body off the gurney. They even seemed hesitant rolling the cart in my direction.

  I moved inside, turning on the overhead fluorescent lights. Of course one of the bulbs had to flicker, giving a slightly eerie look to those just walking in.

  Everything else was brightly lit; my office and the one used by my computer technical wizard had windows. Even the breakroom did.

  “Bring him in here.” I pushed open one of the two steel doors, allowing them to roll the body in. “Put him on the table, please.” I turned back toward Agent Drummand, noticing she was completely uncomfortable. “Age? Where was the body found? Was the body in extreme elements? Local?”

  She wrinkled her nose, likely from the smell. It was only cleaning products, but everyone imagined it was from embalming fluid. “Male in his early forties. He was not exposed to elements. We are uncertain of the method of death.”

  I had a feeling she was providing more than she was comfortable in doing. “Are you waiting or heading back to Chicago?”

  “I’m headed back. When you know you’re close to finishing, call this number. These two gentlemen will come and pick up the body.”

  “Then you’re handling telling the next of kin?”

  “Don’t worry about my job, Doctor. Just do yours.” She walked out, followed by the two men closely afterwards and it was tough not to make a face.

  All three were certainly hurrying to the exit.

  What had them so spooked? I should do a show and tell with the elementary school kids in town. Maybe they wouldn’t be so scared.

  I headed to the body, staring down at it before moving to scrub my hands and arms and prepare everything.

  Why did I have a feeling it was going to be a very long day?

  A few minutes later, I was ready and moved to the table, turning on the two cameras I used including the audio recording device. With no one here to assist, and the FBI possibly breathing down my neck about the results, I knew I needed to be extra careful in how I handled it from the beginning.

  With no name, all I could call him was John Doe. I started the recording and unzipped the bag, peeling it away. Very rarely had a single dead body bothered me, other than the two times children had been involved. I’d seen plenty of stabbings and gunshot victims, jumpers and even one who’d somehow gotten himself in a chipping machine.

  But I’d never seen anyone mauled by an animal, at least not to this degree.

  No wonder the others had acted strangely. It didn’t take a doctor to notice the claw marks didn’t come from any typical animal.

  A bear? Maybe? Here? Possibly.

  What made this so special? That was the question that continued to bother me.

  It had almost been three solid hours, the extra time not because of the terrible condition, but more about my continued curiosity. The claw marks were deep enough they’d torn major organs. The attack had been brutal, but the man hadn’t suffered a single bruise or other mark on his face. I did find that somewhat odd. It was obvious the animal had been enraged.

  I took samples, hoping I’d find tissue from the killing mechanism so I could identify the breed of animal. If this was really an animal attack, why bother contacting the FBI? As Mattie would tell me, my big brain was going to get me into trouble.

  After returning the organs into the body, I pulled back to study the man once again. I’d taken countless photos along with the recordings. I wasn’t certain how they could help, but my report would be thorough.

  I turned off the devices before moving to the sink to clean up, pitching the dirty items into the hamper. After grabbing the samples, I headed to the lab, locking the door to the examining room behind me. I also locked the front door. The lab was in the back part of the building and I’d had a single weirdo try to attack me one night after I’d first arrived. Here I’d thought the town was perfectly safe and devoid of assholes like him.

  Or the two from the night before.

  Wrong.

  Everything else was already in the computer system. Now I could get into the nitty gritty of what had killed him.

  A puzzle to solve. That’s what I loved about the job.

  It wasn’t long before the second time I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t surprised an hour had gone by. The results weren’t what I’d expected. I’d already compared the tissues and could find nothing but those of the victim. The blood was the same.

  I had a couple of other tests to run, the system capable of finding the most minuscule amount of foreign DNA, but I wasn’t hopeful at this point.

  What I had concluded was that the claw marks were too large to be that of a bear. At least any indigenous to this part of the country. The shape reminded me of a wolf, but no wolf I knew of could make the marks. They were huge.

  I was stymied as to how to finish the report.

  Sighing, I removed the head gear containing the light for the microscopes and other apparatuses, taking a step away. Maybe another cup of coffee would help. We had a beloved Keurig machine in the lab, even though I’d told the assistants it needed to be moved to the break area. Today, I was grateful they hadn’t listened to me.

  With the coffee gently brewing, I thought about the results so far.

  Using an undetermined label wasn’t going to go over well, but I was close to that point.

  I added cream, taking a deep whiff of the hazelnut scent. This day hadn’t turned out as expected.

  A sound caught my attention. Steel against steel. That’s what it sounded like. Stiffening, I glanced at the door. It was broad daylight. Was it still possible someone had broken in? I cautiously moved to the door, placing my coffee on one of the counters.

  There was a louder sound as if someone was tossing something against a wall. Where was it coming from?

  My gut told me to move back to the computer. I could flip on the recording system in the examination room from the lab. As soon as I did, the focus seemed muddy. But I adjusted, panning out. I also hit record.

  What the fuck?

  The victim’s body wasn’t on the table where I’d left it. There was no chance it could have slid to the floor. None. A cold chill shifted all the way down my spine and I panned the camera around the room.

  Of all the crazy things I’d seen in my life, including watching a guy beating up two men twice his size because he was hyped up on PCP, nothing had prepared me for the sight. I had to be losing my mind.

  The victim was alive. Not only was he alive and tearing up the inside of the laboratory, but he was…

  The only way my mind could process what I was seeing was to say he was no longer human. Every time I blinked, his body morphed, changing into something that was unrecognizable. There were no correct words in the English language to fully explain what I was seeing.

  I tried to concentrate as the creature continued to destroy the lab. He was furious, tossing things around. He or it was trying to escape. My God. He was transforming into a…

  A wolf.

  Not possible.

  Not fucking possible.

  I was ready to contact the police when he managed to wrench the steel door leading from the examination room off its hinges. It would take superhuman strength to do that.

  Even worse was the audio recording was going and I heard what could only be described as a howl.

  A howl.

  Rough and grotesque.

  Like a werewolf would do.

  I covered my ears, fear finally taking over. I slunk back to the wall, sliding down to the floor. What if the thing found me? I had no weapon in the room, other than sticking the jerk full of some chemical substance.

  The horrible noise continued, but only for maybe two minutes.

  Then all was quiet.

  Completely dead quiet.

  The fear remained, but I was a scientist and there was an explanation for this. There had to be. I forced myself to my feet, feeling sick as a dog inside. But I managed to glance at the camera then walk to the locked lab door.

  Yes, I held my breath, not willing to become some statistic from a horror flick. But when I opened the door, I was certain I would have a panic attack. I didn’t, my fortitude kicking in. I took my time moving into the corridor. There was still nothing but eerie silence.

  I moved to the examination room and swallowed hard before peering inside. While the place was wrecked, the creature hadn’t gotten into the drawers including where I had one body waiting to be picked up in the morning. But everything else was a complete mess.

  Walking inside was difficult, but I managed, peering around as another cold chill trickled down my spine.

  I noticed a dark spot on the floor and slowly crouched down. What I picked up nearly scared me to death.

  Hair. No, not hair. Coarse fur.

  I’d been transformed into the twilight zone or some kind of nightmare. I realized I was shaking as I placed it in an evidence bag, determined to get to the bottom of this. Where the hell had the victim gone?

  I found out a few seconds later. The creature had also torn the hinges off the back door leading to the alley. Great. This was just great.

  I might not be the handiest of women, but I’d secured the door well enough prior that I’d felt safe. I’d call a construction company and leave them a message. This wasn’t something anyone would ever believe.

  First things first. Play back the video.

  When I did, I really wanted a drink. What I’d seen had been real, even if that was entirely impossible and no scientist in their right mind would ever believe it.

  Myself included.

  The agent had known something was off, but had she known about this? If she had, why in God’s name hadn’t she warned me? Classified, my ass.

  She could have placed my life in danger.

  Fuck her.

  Fuck this.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. After making certain the video was saved and sent to my computer, I moved to where I’d dropped my purse. When I yanked out my phone, the terror had already shifted into pure rage.

  That wasn’t good for the agent. I had a mouth on me like few women. Plus, most people did not like to face my wrath.

  Where the hell had I put the card she’d given me? Shit. I found it on my desk and quickly smashed my finger on the screen. Of course. A damn voicemail system. Oh, you bet I was going to leave a message.

  “Agent Drummand. I don’t know what the hell you got me involved in, but I want out. Your victim decided he would get up and walk right out of here after I’d pulled his organs. Do you understand what I am saying? Now, you either tell me what the hell is going on or never contact me again. And you owe me for a ripped apart office.” I ended the call in a huff.

  Like I was going to be stupid enough to mention the fact I’d seen a human being turn into some insane nightmare of a wolf.

  I wasn’t risking my career for anything or anyone.

  Although my mind was already playing tricks with me.

  Danger lurked in the shadows and it had a beast from hell written all over it.

  But a werewolf?

  Not a chance.

  CHAPTER 9

  Jax

  As Riker opened the door, I could tell he was shocked to see me.

  I’d surprised myself in coming out and ending up at my older brother’s house.

  On a freaking Sunday evening.

  It wasn’t like me. Sure, we were close as a family, but there were times of the week where we all unplugged on purpose.

  Social media was the number one blight on the world.

  Although not according to his daughter who adored every aspect.

  “Did the world come to an end or maybe your house blew up?” Riker asked. He laughed and opened the door wider to allow me in. For a man who almost never wore anything but the highest quality handmade suits direct from his tailor in Italy at the office, he was more relaxed than I’d thought possible.

  In jeans and a Chicago Bulls sweatshirt.

  At least the man had taste.

  “Or you just couldn’t get enough of my fabulous presence yesterday,” he added.

  “You, the construction worker? Nah. Just wanted to pick your brain,” I told him as I closed the door behind me.

  We all lived in different style houses, his something I’d usually see in a beach setting.

  “Not the meeting again.”

  “I haven’t said shit. However, I have been thinking and you’re an excellent sounding board.”

  “And that couldn’t happen over the phone?” He led his way through the house to his inequity den, as he liked to call his specially designed man cave. I had no idea why he’d gone to all the trouble, including having a creative bar put in the room that could rival any bar in town.

  Hell, the man had a pool table, arcade games, and tables set up for poker. Plus, he had a huge screen television and the softest media-room–style seating I’d ever experienced.

  The laugh for me was the real popcorn machine that always seemed to churn, spitting out popcorn.

  Including now.

  A Bulls game was on as the season had recently started. I was a football man myself, basketball never doing it for me. I’d forgotten about the start of the season. Most people knew they had a death wish if they dared bother Riker during the season. All October through April.

  But I wasn’t just anyone after all.

  I was the CEO of Wolfen Industries, one of the most powerful corporations in the world, certainly a top five in the United States. We pulled weight and then some, politically as well as financially. Our sports cars were deemed the best for the money, every style winning award after award.

  But accolades weren’t what we were going for.

  Money.

  The entire family loved money, especially since the Wolf beginnings were more like animals wallowing in blood and violence. That had been a long time before any of us were born. However, our mother refused to allow us to return to our carnal ways.

  “Yeah, well, I’m certain you have questions about the meeting tomorrow as well as the fiasco we went through earlier. I have some thoughts. Instincts really, about what our mother is going to discuss.”

  He eyed me and sighed, storming toward the remote and turning the volume of his beloved game down. “Do you want a drink? I have a feeling we’re both going to need one.”

  “Now, why do you say that? Worried we might be having a crisis on our hands?”

  “I’d put nothing past the council members, our mother included.”

  Riker was a bear of a man, someone most people were afraid of when he walked into a room. His method of commanding an audience was simple. He preferred staring them in the eyes as his six-foot, six-inch frame towered over them. His hands were huge, capable of snapping someone’s neck in two seconds flat. He used his dangerous prowess to our benefit.

  But his family knew his secret.

  He was a big teddy bear.

  Unless you crossed him.

  “The real answer is,” he continued, “because when your instincts kick into high gear, that means we have issues to deal with. Some not always pleasant.” He moved behind his bar, not bothering to ask me what I wanted to drink.

  We were vodka men, which I’d heard was one of the few traits we shared with our father.

  Other than the obvious ancestry.

  He pulled our favorite Polish vodka from his tasting room, the frost following him before he could close the vacuum-sealed door. As he plunked the bottle on the granite counter, he lifted his gaze.

  “You really had this built?” I asked as I peered into the room. It was a high dollar area, complete with ice on the walls, a designated table for tasting, and hundreds of bottles of expensive vodka.

  His grin was almost as infectious as his personality.

  Or so I’d been told.

  “A guy needs his toys,” Riker chortled.

  “Yeah, I guess so. What’s wrong with my instinct? It’s saved our asses more than once.”

  His snort was followed by a few select curse words. “You’re kidding yourself. Now, what are you worried about? Finding a suitable mate? That would be troublesome since you’re such an arrogant asshole.”

  “Someone in this family needs to be.”

  “I don’t mind telling you that I have no intention of following this new referendum. Such bullshit. What are they hiding?”

  That was the question of the hour.

  I waited until he’d poured two shots, sliding one in my direction. As I moved closer, he wrapped his huge paw-like hand around the tiny glass, lifting it in a salute.

  “Maybe the sun always rise on your ass.”

  “That’s a toast?” I asked, already laughing. He was also the comedian of the family.

  “Hey, at least I can wing it. Now, talk. I want to hear your thoughts.” He threw back the shot and immediately poured another. I could tell he was annoyed I never kept up with him.

  “There’s something in the air. Obviously, the packs are facing something the council didn’t want to mention.”

  “An enemy.”

  “Undoubtedly. Didn’t you smell the stench?” Often our pheromones overreacted when we were sexually aroused, enraged, or lying out our asses.

  The poor guy almost choked as he attempted to do the second shot. Precious liquid spewed from his mouth and I could tell he was none too happy with the waste. “Yeah, it’s called the stench of shit. What are you talking about? You’re like some goddamn poet.”

  I was more eloquent than either one of my two brothers, which was why I’d garnered the CEO and marketing position in the corporation. As Riker would say, I had the pretty face.