Chapter 9 #2
“I’m trying to remember!” Vic snapped. Except it was more like a growl as his head shot up and his mouth pulled back to show his teeth.
It was an animal’s reaction to being threatened, and they both recognized it.
Simon just waited. Hell, his shifter friends had done a ton worse as teens, but it frightened Vic enough that his eyes widened with panic.
Anger, shock, panic, which led to more anger. It was a cycle Simon knew well. As did every shifter. But it was a cycle that had to stop.
“Keep it together,” he growled, his own animal surging forward.
“I’m trying!”
Then Simon abruptly shot his finger forward in a determined point.
“Don’t you dare stink this place up again!
” It felt like an awkward gesture. He’d never wagged his finger at anyone in his life.
But it was something Vic’s mother had done to him, or so he’d once told Simon.
Simon mimicked it and prayed that his friend was conditioned to quiet down at that gesture.
It worked.
Vic tucked in his jaw and stared at the floor, but it didn’t last long. A moment later his gaze shot up and there was a pinched look to his brows. Worse, there was a rising stench in the air. “I can’t stop it!”
“Yes, you can,” Simon said. He was running out of ways to tell Vic the same thing. And then Alyssa’s voice cut through the air.
“You weren’t born able to speak, Vic. You weren’t potty trained and didn’t know your hand from your ass, but you learned. You formed words, used the toilet, and got control of when your hand and your ass interact.”
Both men shot looks at Alyssa as she strode into the basement. Simon noted that her eyes seemed clear and her shoulders determined. Her hair was back in that tight bun and her expression was hard. But inside, he guessed she was cut to pieces by what her brother had become. Meanwhile, Vic groaned.
“Don’t be a bitch, Lys. My hand and my ass are always in perfect sync.”
She rolled her eyes, but Simon could see relief in the gesture. Vic couldn’t be a monster while he was cracking jokes, right? And even better, the stink seemed to be clearing. A little. Which meant the anger cycle was broken and he had a chance to speak to Vic’s rational mind.
“She’s right that it’s a new body function just like walking and talking. You have to learn how to control it just like you learned—”
“Potty training,” Vic grumbled. “I got it. So when I start getting angry, I need to—”
“Think of the redhead.”
Vic’s brows narrowed. “I thought it was the brunette. You know, the one who took her time.”
Simon held up his hand to stop his friend from saying anything more.
He enjoyed a good sexual exploit as much as any man, but he’d never thought of it as a spectator sport.
“I just needed you to remember the details of being a man. The body, the feel, the…everything of being a man. That’s what shifted you back to human.
And by the way, that’s what healed your injuries. ”
Vic touched his cheek, pressing in to the cheekbones. “You beat the crap out of me.”
“You deserved it.” It was a lie. Vic hadn’t been in control. All Simon had needed to do was incapacitate him, not beat him senseless. The only one who had kept it together last night was Alyssa and he admired the hell out of her for that.
Meanwhile Vic shrugged. “Yeah.” He looked at his sister. “Sorry about…” He gestured to the damaged cage. “Everything.”
“You can fix the cage as your apology. You got yourself under control now?”
Vic groaned. “You’re always giving me more work as an apology.”
“’Cause you’re always screwing up.”
“This wasn’t my fault!”
“And yet you’re still responsible for your actions. You still have to face the consequences.”
He growled at his sister. “You’re still a bitch.”
“And you still stink.”
That pulled up him short, and his nostrils flared. So did Simon’s as he tried to compare the air quality to what it had been a moment before. Vic reacted first.
“I do not. That’s old stink.”
Alyssa arched a brow. “So you’ve got it together?”
He held up his hands palms turned outward. “I’m sure.”
“Then I guess you can learn.” She stepped forward and quickly unlocked the cage, swinging the door wide. “Go take a shower and get some clothes on. We’ve got things to do.”
“What things?” Vic asked, belatedly realizing he was standing naked in front of his sister. He tried to casually cover his important bits, but the whole thing looked awkward.
Simon took pity on the man. “We’ll discuss that when you’re showered. Go on. I’m going to figure out a way to fumigate this basement.”
Vic took the escape and fled while the two of them watched his bobbing black ass climb the stairs. But the moment he disappeared upstairs, Alyssa turned to him.
“You think he’s okay to be wandering around?”
He arched a brow. “You’re the one who let him out, not me.”
She shrugged, a guilty flush to her cheeks. “You said he could get control, and then he did. And I hated seeing him in here.” She sighed, but her gaze didn’t soften. “Now I want to know if I was being impulsive. Does Vic belong in a cage?”
Difficult question and all he had were guesses.
But to suggest that Vic should remain in a cage was to say that every young shifter belonged locked up because they might lose their temper.
It didn’t work that way. Easy enough to stay calm when you were holed up in a basement watching TV.
The only way to learn control was to test it. Out in the real world.
“I think I need to stick close to him just in case.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“But now I need more answers. Were there any symptoms before he started changing? Was he especially surly? Did he get sick or have a fever?”
“Yeah. I already told you he had the Detroit Flu about three days ago.”
“Tell me again.” As they spoke, he found a couple big fans and one little one. Alyssa helped, opening the appropriate storage areas with her key. Then it was a matter of judging how to best get air flowing through the basement.
“Two outbreaks. I caught the first. Vic the second. Hospitals were overrun with people spiking fevers. A lot of the old and young died. The CDC was called in, but mostly it was just an ugly bug. I felt crappy for days.”
“How many people got it?”
“Seemed like everyone. All at once.”
“And what did the CDC conclude?”
She snorted. “What does the government ever decide? Nothing. Or at least nothing that they’re telling us.
But further investigation is warranted.” Her last sentence was done in a mocking accent and he couldn’t help but agree.
“Well, if everyone got it, then it couldn’t have done this or everyone would be running around with fur.
” Unless Vic had some preexisting genetic condition that the virus triggered.
Maybe only an unlucky few were changed. “You and Vic are half siblings, aren’t you? ”
She nodded. “Yeah. Same mother, but our dads were different.”
So Alyssa might not have the same genetic predisposition to going furry that Vic did. Maybe. Damn, he hated guessing. “We need more information.”
“Which is why we’re going to visit the Griz.”
He shook his head. “Not we. It has to be—”
She held up her hand. “You can’t leave Vic alone. And if Vic is going with you, then I’m going as back up. If my brother loses it, you need someone to help you.” She held up the Taser with a strained smile. “Have weapon, will electrocute.”
“This is not a good idea,” he said, mentally scrambling for a valid argument.
“You remember how to read yet?”
He glanced at a magazine on the top of an open storage box. Though the hot babe cover was clear enough, the printed letters meant nothing to him. Yet.
“No,” he bit out.
“You’ll get there,” she said gently. “I’ll start teaching you as soon as we finish with the Griz.”
“I know, but—”
“And you got any way to get around Detroit without me or my car?”
He had his nose. But in the soup of urban smells, picking out the scent of grizzly-shifters would be tough. He could wander for days without getting anything.
“No, but—”
“So stop fighting it. I’m coming.”
“It’s dangerous.”
She snorted. “So is running a cash business in this neighborhood. And yet here I still stand.”
He glared at her. “I don’t like it.”
She chuckled, a warm sound that was soothing even as her words irritated him. “Oh my,” she cried in a mock southern drawl. “Someone doesn’t like my choices. Whatever will I do?”
He had no answer to that, so he flicked on the fans. The fetid air started moving. If nothing else, at least he remembered how electrical fans worked. He was sure that would help enormously as he faced a criminal gang of grizzly bear-shifters…not.