Page 54 of Claimed By the Guardian

Peter frowned, his gaze hopping to Abby and back. Abby who, incidentally, looked absolutely normal as she finished off the glass of water that had been set to the side earlier. So now the woman had a big dose of whatever was tainting the water. Just what did that mean? Was she about to sprout fur, too?

Abby turned to her husband and spoke in a level tone. “There’s something I’ve kept from you, Peter. It’s about my family.”

“Stop this!” Peter commanded. “We’re here for Brittany. I don’t want to hear about anything else right now.”

Abby took a deep breath as she looked to Cecilia. “How long will it take?”

Like she knew? “We don’t even know if that’s the real cause.”

The woman nodded, her arms wrapped tightly around her belly as she turned to her daughter. “Brittany, honey, I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I’ve never done this before either. If this is the only way to get you to see, then I’ll do it. I don’t care if I have to drink an ocean, I’m going to be right beside you the whole way.”

A touching statement of strength. Cecilia’s heart melted at the words, especially since she understood a little of what kind of danger the woman was in. Abby had a lot more shifter DNA than her daughter. And if Brittany had turned into a hybrid, then what would happen to her? A full shift? A half shift? Most of the hybrids lost cortical control, meaning they got massive brain damage and lost rational thought. The last thing they needed was a crazed hybrid here. Or worse, a crazed bear.

“Let’s all just take a breath,” Cecilia said in her most official tone. “Peter, Dr. Hank here is a well-respected authority on the Detroit Flu, and I trust him completely. His insights have been invaluable in finding a cure for your daughter.”

Hank turned slowly to give her a heavy look and no wonder. She’d just changed his first name to his last and given him a doctorate to boot. Thankfully, people tended to respect people with extra letters after their name, so Peter appeared to settle down, helped no doubt by the fact that absolutely nothing was happening to his wife. She was standing beside her daughter’s bed, her entire body tight with worry, but with no physical changes.

Kind of anticlimactic, actually. Cecilia glanced at Hank who shrugged. He had no more idea how long it would take than she did. And in that moment of indecision, Brittany lost interest.

Her head went back into her phone. A minute later, she was chuckling. “Mom, look what Mr. Delgado posted on Instagram.” She turned her phone so her mother could see. “It’s supposed to be a math joke, but it’s just lame.”

Abby turned to look. “Um, okay. Oh, I get it.” She chuckled, though it sounded forced. “Funny.”

Brittany rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not. Regular people won’t get it. Smart ones will just think it’s dumb.”

Abby smiled. “Well, I guess you’re one of the smart ones, then.”

And just like that, everyone settled. Peter stopped bristling. Brittany kept scrolling through things on her phone and showing them to her mother. Cecilia and Hank just stood there awkwardly.

Cecilia touched Hank’s arm. “Should we leave?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. If she changes…”

He needed to be here. He was the only one somewhat prepared for what would happen.

“And you need to be ready to sedate Brittany.”

Cecilia started. “What? She’s fine.”

“But she’ll get frightened if her mother changes. And then…”

“And then she’ll shift, too.” The last thing they needed was for Brittany to start screaming again. “But it’s also possible that nothing will happen, right?”

Hank didn’t answer except to shrug. No surprise there. Cecilia was the one with multiple PhDs, and all she’d done so far was stand behind Hank and watch. Then something even worse happened.

A knock sounded on the door. Everyone turned as Brittany’s other doctors came pushing in. They must have heard—or seen on the video feed—that she’d reverted to normal. And anyone who was even tangentially involved in Brittany’s case was bustling in to see. They wanted to inspect Brittany’s arms and face, take new blood, run new tests, and so on. Cecilia was glad. She wanted all those tests done. She wanted to see how the girl’s blood chemistry may or may not have changed. And cell slides would be fascinating. Not to mention a bit of analysis of the few stray hairs that had fallen to the floor when the girl had changed back to full human.

But what about Abby? Just how long did they have until the tiny hospital room was bursting with bears?

CHAPTER 17

“Security! Security to 5L immediately!”

Hank tensed but he didn’t move. It was the third security call today, this time to a hybrid four rooms down. Didn’t these people have noses? Couldn’t they tell the hybrid was about to pop? There was always an extra pulse of stench before the monster went TA—terminally aggressive. That’s what Hank called it. That moment when the thinking mind ended and the adrenaline kicked so high that the animal creature inside everyone went wild. At that point, rabid dogs were more sane than the poor people who finally succumbed to the poison.

Hank peered out Brittany’s hospital room window to the commotion in the hallway. The curtain was still drawn for privacy. Even though it had been five hours since Abby had drunk the poisoned water—with no obvious effect—they didn’t want someone watching if she did pop. But he and Cecilia had stayed in the room because her change was coming. It was just a matter of time and possibly more water.

As he looked out from behind the curtain, he could see two security officers run down the hall, guns out. Then there was a crash inside the hospital room and a man screamed in terror. He knew about the patient in there. A guy in his twenties just starting to make his way as a chef when someone decided to poison Detroit. Hank hadn’t seen him, but Cecilia had showed him the chart. The guy had shown up in the ER with a wolf’s snout after biting the arm of his sous chef. The cops had managed to restrain him and bring him here in handcuffs. That was two days ago, and the guy’s brain scans revealed steady deterioration.