Wolf, in League [Wolf 3]

Chapter 1: Mostly He Missed It-2

Matthew flipped up his collar, shook his head, and turned back to the door that he’d left propped open behind him. The doors were all glass. The windows were glass. Glass, glass, everywhere glass. He’d often figured it was there for security more than just an effort to soften the rest of the cold concrete building. After all, it was easy to see through; nothing could hide behind a glass door. It was also reflective.

So when he saw a face—a smirk, bright eyes, sharp cheekbones—shining back at him, Matthew startled. He whirled back to face the balcony.

There was no one there. Just the stars and bats above him, and the trees, manicured lawn, and fading gardens below him.

He shook his head and grabbed the handle of the door. It was time to cut back on the coffee. The caffeine was making him jumpy.

* * * *

With the clock at 6:15, just under two hours before the majority of the Center’s staff would start crawling in, and still a half hour before even the most dedicated few would show up, Matthew was staring blankly through the windows of the main entrance. He’d already transferred his Petri dishes back into storage and flicked off the microscope, the laptop, and the spotlight. He’d saved his data, powered off his laptop, and it now rested inside his backpack. He was debating the idea of grabbing a coffee from his preferred vending machine (his head was reminding him that caffeine and sleep did not a happy partnership make, but his desire was already mentally counting the change in his pocket) and he was so lost in his internal argument that he shrieked, mouse-like, when he was interrupted by a voice.

“Doctor Dietrich?”

Matthew spun, more to confirm the voice than anything else. He’d only heard it once and he’d told himself that he would never forget it: Samuel Volos, Chief Operating Officer.

Being there at such an hour was unheard of for Volos, and while that fact alone was a surprise, the idea that Volos had seen fit, in his infinite wisdom, to not only acknowledge Matthew but to do so by name, was unbelievable. Shocking, even. Samuel Volos had barely registered Matthew’s existence when Matthew had been brought around for introductions. He’d granted Matthew a, “Welcome aboard, young man,” given a limp, uninterested handshake, and then shown his back as he turned away, busily globbing sanitizer into the middle of the palm that had been sullied by their contact. That had been the last Matthew had seen of him but for the pictures in the various displays.

Now, here Volos stood, hands behind his back, stance casual—not only talking, not only staring directly at Matthew, but smiling. Smiling!

Few men managed to pull Matthew’s head out of his work and into places where the imagination could dwell on those things that happened when two men got naked together, and Volos was one of them. Tall, well-dressed, lithe, and with just enough lines under the eyes and between the eyebrows to let a person know that a lot of thinking went on in that head. Volos was the real-life equivalent of every one of the older-gentleman-love-interests that grumped their way through the storylines of the risqué animes that had held Matthew’s interest in his teens. And still did, on occasion, though he’d never admit that in a group of his peers.

“Are you on your way out?” Volos asked.

“Yes,” Matthew said, and then quickly added, “but I was here all night. The team has been trying to mutate the MYB-NFIB in an effort to see if we can match the gene in reverse. Make one that can think backwards, if you can imagine it, and I’ve been watching—”

“Yes,” Volos said around a nod. “I know. Both of the project and your schedule.”

“Of course.” Matthew dropped his gaze and began to mentally beat himself over the head. Of course he flipping knew. What kind of an EO would he be if he didn’t know what his staff was up to? “I didn’t mean to imply that you—”

“I’ve been keeping a very close eye on you, in fact,” Volos said, as though Matthew hadn’t said a single word. “Have you always been a nighttime person, Doctor?”

Matthew couldn’t tell if the inflection behind the question was amusement, disapproval, or nothing more than casual interest. “I prefer the solitude, is all.”

“Ah, solitude.” Another nod. A tug at the pristine white cuff of the shirt that edged around the arm of his suit. “And your spouse doesn’t mind you being gone all night?”

So, Volos hadn’t been keeping that close of an eye on him. Most people Matthew worked with knew he was single. And gay. Although, to Volos’s credit, Volos had said “spouse” and not “wife.”

“I’m not married, sir.”

“Good for you,” Volos said, widening his eyes and shaking his head. “That makes you smarter than seventy percent of the people here. Including me. But surely there’s a someone somewhere? If not here, then perhaps a special online relationship? I’ve heard those are so common these days what with the Skype and the Google and the Facetime and whatnot.”

If he asks me out I’m going to just die, literally die. Except that was a ridiculous thought, Matthew told himself. Volos had just said he was married, for goodness sake. Not that open relationships were unheard of, but the man was a head of industry. In Matthew’s limited world knowledge, most guys like Volos kept anything outside the realm of ‘normal relationships’ behind closed doors. They sure didn’t breach those matters with employees, anyway. Especially employees that were mere residents. Besides, it was a violation of the Center’s Code of Conduct. Matthew had been to the ‘this-is-how-to-behave-like-a-human-being’ seminar when he’d started—all new recruits had to—and interoffice discussions about a person’s relationships and/or lack of them were frowned upon. And Matthew now knew why. As interesting and attractive as Volos was, the line of questioning made him feel awkward.

But Volos was the big boss and Matthew was no fool when it came to knowing that the rules that the little people had to follow didn’t always apply to those higher up the chain of command. Code of conduct expectations or no.

“No. Nothing like that these days,” Matthew said finally. “I have my residency to contend with and that takes up most of my time.”

“And are you enjoying it?” Mr. Volos asked without a second’s pause. “Your residency? Here?” He waved his left arm in a careless fashion. “Are you hoping for a permanent position?”

Oh, boy. That sounded like an oddly pointed question. Nervous tension began to crawl up Matthew’s spine. “Of course. The GDBCG is a leader in genetic research. I’d be crazy not to be hoping for one.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Volos smiled. “Would you mind hanging on for another hour or so? Doctor Dyball and I would like to have a word with you.”

“Oh?” Matthew could only hope his expression wasn’t as stricken as his body suddenly was. Had he done something wrong? Wound somebody up? He couldn’t think of anything, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t done something without realizing it…

“A project,” Volos said and his voice dropped several octaves. “A very special, very important project. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“Yes,” Matthew replied before his head had a chance to tell him to think first. After all, it was the very special, very important projects that could make a person’s career. Besides, Doctor Dyball would be there and that meant it wouldn’t just be him and Volos alone. Oddly enough, the last thing Matthew wanted was anymore one-on-one time with Volos.

“Should I…” Matthew pointed at the empty chairs in the reception area. “Or?”

“Absolutely not!” Volos frowned, as though Matthew’s idea of waiting in reception was an idea that was not only ridiculous but close to unimaginable. “Get yourself a coffee. Go to the lounge. Grab a wink or two of sleep, if you’d like. We’ll find you.” He smiled again. “No worries about that.”

Why that expression made Matthew want to cringe was beyond his understanding. When Volos turned and walked away, however, the relief Matthew felt was so powerful he could have slumped into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs anyway.

* * * *

Matthew slammed into the small restroom that made up part of the boardroom harder than he’d intended, but much more gently than he would have liked to, and stood in front of the mirror with one hand over his forehead, his eyes closed, and his breath coming out in exaggerated exhales. Mad, they were all mad. Insane, really.

“Doctor, have you ever wondered why human beings are born with an instinctual fear of the dark?”

Matthew was not the kind of man that automatically wrote off fairy tales or stories of the paranormal just because he’d not been confronted by the truth of their existence. He was not of the belief that everything in life could be rationalized down to current-day science. Fear came from somewhere, and to automatically assume that every story about little gray spacemen or monsters was made up would have been like refusing his own belief that one day man would eliminate schizophrenia or find a miracle cure for cancer. A researcher had to believe in the unlikely, or else they wouldn’t pursue anything that existed beyond current knowledge. That’s what made them bejeezus researchers, after all. They had to believe that there was more to the human existence than simply handing over prescriptions and making people comfortable until Death caught up with them.

But he knew a joke when he heard one. And that’s what this had to be…it had to. There was no other explanation.

“Are you familiar with the term ‘shifter’?”

There were, however, certain ideologies that twisted even the most open, the most curious minds.

“There is a certain…well, I’m going to go ahead and just use the word—a certain pack of Wolf’s constituency that we have lost contact with. We require some intel on these subjects and when I explain who they are, I think you’ll understand why this matter needs to be handled internally.”

“Wait…you mean me? I don’t understand…”

He still didn’t. The points they’d given him in favor of the idea had seemed invalid; shaky at best, and outright condescending and foolish at the worst.

“The alpha member of this pack is…well, he’s gay, Dietrich. So is his son, who is also a person of interest—”

He’d cut Volos off immediately.

“And?”

“And you are as well.”

“What the…what does that have to do with anything?”

He’d been mortified at himself for coming that close to swearing. Like his mother had always said, even in salty California, there was enough of the f-word and the s-word out there already, and if he couldn’t see the benefit of keeping his mouth clean, then he didn’t deserve to have someone kiss it. But seriously, was Volos that simpleminded? Did Volos think that because these men were gay they’d have some kind of instant bonding thing going on? Did they expect Matthew to engage in s*x for information? Besides, he was a doctor and a researcher and why the hellabaloo would that make him the ideal candidate to get them their intel?

Matthew leaned his head against the cool glass of the mirror and tried to focus on that aspect of the conversation as if, somehow, that was the weirdest thing about what had just taken place in the boardroom. It wasn’t, though. Good heavens, it certainly was not. It had taken three separate uses of the word ‘shifter’ for the concept to catch in Matthew’s head.

“Are you suggesting these men are werewolves?”

He’d laughed, a high shrill sound that had echoed in the room. It was an attempt at amusement—all right, guys, I caught the joke and you can let off now—that was immediately shut down.

“We’re not suggesting that at all. We’re coming right out and telling you. And you should know that investigations into what might have taken place before we lost contact with them indicates that there is a good chance of vampiric involvement as well.”

Vampiric. That wasn’t even a word, was it? His mind had flailed with the use of it, as if pulling out a dictionary and proving his point would make the fakery disappear. He’d told Volos and Dyball they were crazy. He’d known, looking into their eyes, that they weren’t. They believed what they were saying, anyway. And looking at them, at their straight faces and their direct gazes, Matthew’s mind had starting stacking up the blocks and making bridges out of them: the odd mannerisms of the staff, the extra security in certain areas of the center, the secrecy. The bats…cheese and rice! Were there monsters on the premises? What exactly was the GDBCG doing in their labs?

“You have made it very clear that you want to be here, Doctor. That this is the place where you can fulfill the dreams and ideas that got you into genetics in the first place. And I agree with you—there is absolutely no place on this planet where you will be better served to do that. The things you will learn here will change everything you know. They will enlighten you on humankind in ways that you never even dreamed existed. These anomalies are the secret to understanding what the human body is capable of. You have no idea how far we’ve come, but you can know. You will know. If you choose to, that is. This is a research opportunity that very few of our kind even know about, let alone get the chance to work with. Isn’t that what you want?