“When was the most recent death?”
“The night before last,” Sylvan said. “As far as I know, the girl has not been identified. Her body is probably with the city coroner.”
“I have a few contacts there,” Leo said. “I might be able to fashion a request for a blood sample that won’t arouse too much suspicion. A fresh tissue biopsy for mass spec and culture is preferable, however, and I doubt I can get that.”
Sylvan hesitated, every instinct screaming for her not to reveal anything further. But she was Alpha, and her entire Pack was at risk.
“We have a survivor. One of the infected girls bit a human medic. She’s turned.”
“And she’s not rabid?”
“No.”
“An adult human female turned Were,” Leo murmured in surprise. “We could learn a great deal by studying her.”
“She’s not a lab rat,” Sylvan growled.
“Forgive me,” Leo said, his tone immediately conciliatory. “I’m afraid I spend too much time alone in the laboratory. My tact has suffered for it.”
“What would you need from her?”
“Initially, nothing too drastic. Blood samples. A muscle biopsy.”
“Surgery?” Sylvan burned at the idea of anyone touching Drake, hurting her. Her wolf reared her head, snarling.
“Only a very minor incision,” Leo said hastily. “I doubt it would cause her very much pain at all.”
“You said initially.”
Leo hesitated. “We don’t know how the turning will affect a female, especially an adult. Her eggs would be—”
“No,” Sylvan said immediately, her instinct to protect Drake overpowering everything else, even her duty to Pack. That realization brought her up short and she struggled to clear her head, to think as Alpha. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let personal feelings interfere with her responsibility. She refused to take a mate for exactly that reason. “She just awakened a few hours ago. She’s not strong enough for anything invasive yet.”
“I understand, of course. But later?”
“Perhaps.” At the sound of rending wood, Sylvan glanced down at her desk. She’d gouged four deep crevices in the polished wood surface without even being aware that her entire hand had morphed completely.
If she’d been in public, at a press conference, that kind of slip could prove disastrous.
“When can you get me samples?” Leo asked. “I’ll start setting up for the assays.”
“I’ll have to check with Elena on Drake’s condition. Can Sophia collect what you need?”
“Certainly.”
“Good. I’ll have Sophia call you if she has any questions.” Leo was silent.
“What is it?” Sylvan asked.
“You said the turned Were has only just awakened. She could still deteriorate. If she’s rabid…”
“She’s not rabid.” Sylvan’s wolf pushed hard for freedom. Her skin shimmered and a whisper of pelt silvered over the surface. She shut her eyes and forced her shift to recede. “I wouldn’t put your daughter at risk, Leo.”
He cleared his throat in apology. “I know that, Alpha. Sophia has good instincts. I’m sure she’ll be careful. Please forgive my fatherly concern.”
“Understood. I want you to rush the results, and report directly to me. No one other than Nadia and Sophia is to know about this.”
“My mate and I can easily handle all the testing ourselves,” Leo assured her. “We’ll await the samples and run the assays as soon as we have them.”
“Thank you.” Sylvan ended the call and resisted the urge to contact Elena immediately for an update on Drake’s condition. Drake would sleep at least a few hours after achieving a release. Thinking about Drake spending herself with Elena’s help, perhaps excited by Elena’s presence, threatened to unbalance Sylvan’s tenuous control.
She grabbed the message slips for a distraction.
Councilor Zachary Gates had left three urgent messages. Sighing, Sylvan dialed his extension in the Capitol Complex. When his secretary put her through, she said, “Hello, Zachary. It’s Sylvan.”
“Councilor,” Zachary said in his smooth, polished voice. “Good of you to call.”
“How can I help you?” Sylvan asked, more annoyed than usual with Zachary’s officious demeanor. Her temper and tolerance were frayed to the breaking point.
“The coalition members thought it might be a good time to convene a status meeting.”
“When?” Sylvan represented all of the organized U.S. Weres in the Coalition of Preternatural Beings. Zachary represented the Vampires, Rudy Brown the Mage, Cecelia Thornton the Fae, and Ilona Dexter the Psi. Together, the five guided their species through the uncertain political and social consequences of the Exodus. In addition to unifying their political platforms, they discussed self-regulatory policies to ensure that the actions of one species did not contradict a position of one of the others or place any species at risk. Prior to the Exodus the Praetern species had been completely independent of one another, and the new coalition was an uneasy alliance. Their board meetings often devolved into heated arguments as each species subtly jockeyed for political leverage and economic power.
“As soon as possible,” Zachary replied.
“An emergency meeting? Why?”
Zachary sighed as if he were reluctant to deliver the next message.
“Several of the members were concerned about the media depiction of your…ah, slip.”
“My slip?” Sylvan growled.
“I’m sure the photograph in the newspaper exaggerated your condition,” Zachary said soothingly.
“My condition.”
Zachary laughed. “Well, my dear—”
“Alpha,” Sylvan said in a low, dangerous tone. “Alpha Mir, Councilor Gates.”
“Of course…Alpha. You know how some of the board abhor public scrutiny. In fact, if they hadn’t feared their economic interests would suffer, they wouldn’t have joined your father in the Exodus at all. So naturally, they’re concerned about any behavior that might generate adverse public opinion.”
“Would you care to speak plainly?” Sylvan said icily.
“You looked like you were about to loose your beast, Alpha,” Zachary said, all pretense of diplomacy gone. “The Coalition cannot have a rogue leader.”
“You know very well what that picture showed. One of my young had been attacked. It’s unfortunate the incident was photographed, but I don’t intend to apologize to the board for it.”
“I quite agree. And I’m sure if you give the board a simple assurance that they have no reason to fear public reprisal because of a repeat performance, the matter will be quickly disposed of.”
“I’m afraid I’m unavailable for the next several days.” Sylvan wondered about Zachary’s true agenda. Vampires were constantly maneuvering for territory and political power, so she suspected Zachary’s ultimate goal was to achieve superiority over all the other Praetern species. However, he was an adept politician and rarely revealed his true allegiances. “I’ll advise you when my schedule allows.”
“I’ll expect your call, then.” Zachary’s tone was perceptibly cooler. “I wouldn’t wait too long, Alpha.”
“Is that a threat, Councilor?”
“Not at all. Consider it the advice of a friend.” Of one thing Sylvan was certain. Zachary Gates was no friend of the Weres. She wondered if he might be an enemy.
Drake woke alone. Elena and Roger’s scent lingered, but the one that overpowered theirs and made her stomach tighten was Sylvan’s.
Earthy and potent—burning pine and dark cinnamon. This time she’d dreamed of awakening in a hospital with Sylvan standing over her bed.
In the dream, Sylvan had said she was part of the Pack now. Sylvan’s scent had enveloped her and she’d become excited. She’d wanted to vault from the bed and take her. She’d wanted to bite her. Then Sylvan had been a wolf, a great silver beast calling for Drake to shift, to run, to hunt. The rest of the dream had fractured, as if experienced through a different consciousness—the world had become sound and scent and taste. And Sylvan. Always Sylvan. Alpha.