Jason made a small sound low in his chest. He crawled towards me, two slow, dragging steps. His head flung upward. His eyes were still the innocent blue of spring skies but there was nobody home now. He looked at me as though he could see inside my body, watch my heart thudding in my chest, smell the blood in my veins. It was not a human look.
"Jason," Richard said, "hold on. We'll be free in a few minutes. Just hold on."
Jason didn't react. I don't think he heard.
I thought the few minutes was being overly optimistic, but hey, I was willing to believe it if Jason would.
Jason crawled towards me. I plastered my back against the cage bars. "Edward, how are you coming with that lock?"
"These are not the tools I would have chosen for this particular lock, but I'll get it."
There was something in the way Jason crawled towards me, as if he had muscles in places that he shouldn't have. "Make it soon, Edward."
He didn't answer me. I didn't have to look to know that he was working at the lock. I had every faith that he'd unlock the door. I backed down the bars, trying to keep an even distance between me and the werewolf. Edward would get the door open, but would it be in time? That was the $64,000 question.
A sound at the entrance caused me to glance back. Carmichael stepped into the cavern. He had the 9mm in his hand. He smiled. It was the happiest I'd seen him.
Edward ignored him, working at the lock as if an armed man hadn't stepped into the room.
Carmichael raised the gun and pointed it at Edward. "Get away from the lock, now." He cocked the hammer back, not necessary, but always dramatic. "We don't need you alive. Stop. . working. . on. . the. . lock." He stepped closer with each word.
Edward looked up at him. His face was still blank, as if his concentration were still in his hands, not quite focused on the gun being pointed at him.
"Throw the tools away from you. Right now."
Edward stared at him. His expression never changed but he tossed the two small tools away.
"Take the complete kit out of your pocket and toss it out of the cage. Don't even try to say you don't have one. If you've got those two pieces, you've got the rest."
I wondered what Carmichael did in the real world. Something not nice. Something where he knew what tools would be in a professional lock-picking kit.
"I won't warn you again," Carmichael said. "Throw it out or I pull the trigger. I am tired of screwing with this mess."
Edward threw out the slim leather pouch. It made a small slapping sound on the rock. Carmichael made no move to pick up the lock picks. They were out of our reach. That was what counted. He walked backwards, keeping us all in sight. He directed some of his attention to Jason and me. Oh, joy.
"Our little werewolf's awake. I was hoping he would be."
A low, ragged growl crawled up Jason's throat.
Carmichael gave a delighted bark of laughter. "I wanted to see him change. Good thing I checked back in."
"I'm thrilled that you're here," I said.
He came to stand just out of reach of our cage bars. He was staring at Jason. "I've never seen one of them change."
"Let me out and we'll watch him together."
"Now, why would I do that? I paid to see the whole show."
His eyes were sparkling with anticipation. Bright and shiny as a kid on Christmas morning. Shit.
A growl brought my attention completely back to Jason. He was crouched on the rock floor, hands and legs bunched under him. Watching that growl trickle from between his human lips raised the hair on the back of my neck.
He wasn't looking at me. "I think he's growling at you, Carmichael."
"But I'm not in the cage," he said. He had a point.
"Jason, don't get angry at him," Richard said. "Anger will feed the beast. You can't afford to get angry." Richard's voice was amazingly calm, even soothing. He was trying to talk Jason down, or out, or in, or whatever word you used for keeping a werewolf from shifting.
"No," Carmichael said, "get angry, wolf. I'm going to cut your head off and mount it on my wall."
"He'll revert back to human form after he's dead," I said.
"I know," Carmichael said.
Jesus. "Police find you with a human head in your possession, they may get a little suspicious."
"I've got a lot of trophies that I wouldn't want the police to find," he said.
"What do you do in the real world?"
"This is as real as it gets."
I shook my head. It was hard to argue with him, but I wanted to.
Jason crawled towards the bars, in a sort of monkey crouch. It wasn't as graceful but it had an energy to it, as if he were about to launch himself into the air. As if when he jumped he could fly.
"Calm, Jason, easy," Richard said.
"Come on, boy, try it. Rush the bars and I'll pull the trigger."
I watched him bunch every muscle and launch himself at the bars. He clung to the bars, hands clawing between them. Arms stretched as far as they would go. He wedged a shoulder between the bars as if he'd slip through. For one moment Carmichael looked uncertain, then he laughed.
"Shoot me," Jason said. His voice was more growl than words. "Shoot me."
"I don't think so," Carmichael said.
Jason gripped the bars with his hands and slid down to his knees, forehead pressed to the bars. His breathing was fast, panting, as if he'd run a mile in a minute flat. If he'd been human he'd have hyperventilated and passed out. His head turned slowly towards me, painfully slow, as if he didn't want to do it. He'd tried to force Carmichael to shoot him. Risked being killed to keep from turning on me. He didn't know me well enough to risk his life. It got him a lot of points in my book.
He looked at me, and his face was naked, raw with need. Not sex, not hunger, both, neither, I didn't understand the look in his eyes, and didn't want to.
He scrambled towards me. I backed away, almost running backwards.
"Don't run," Richard called. "It excites him."
Staring into Jason's alien expression, it took everything I had to stand still. My hands gripped the bars behind me hard enough to hurt, but I stopped running. Running was bad.
Jason stopped when I did. He crouched just out of reach. He put one hand on the ground and crawled towards me. It was slow, as if he didn't want to, but he kept coming.
"Any more bright ideas?" I asked.
"Don't run. Don't struggle. It's exciting. Try to be calm. Try not to be afraid. Fear is very exciting."
"Speaking from personal experience?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
I wanted to turn, see his face, but I couldn't. I had eyes only for the werewolf that was crawling towards me. The werewolf in the other cage could take care of himself.
Jason knelt on all fours by my legs, like a dog awaiting a command. He raised his head and looked at me. A spot of pale green color spilled into his eyes. The blue of his irises drowned in a swirl of new color. When it was done his eyes were the color of new spring grass, pale, pale green, and not human at all.
I gasped. I couldn't help it. He moved closer, sniffing the air around me. His fingertips brushed my leg. I jerked. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his cheek against my leg. He'd done more than this at the Lunatic Cafe, but his eyes had still been mostly human. And I had been armed. I'd have given nearly anything for a gun right now.