Page 2 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I hated the taste. Bitter and earthy, like dead roots. I paused, regarding the lilac crystal vial, trying to remember how much Megan had told me to take. Unscrewing the cap, I took a big swig. More was probably better, especially with a feveranda migraine.

I clenched my jaw and kept digging.

Finally, my fingers found hard, cool plastic, and I stepped forward, swiping my badge across the scanner.

Beep.

The gate opened with a green blinking light, my name and face appearing on the screen.Blanchette Redfield, it read…right below an unflattering picture of me.

Offering the gate guard an apologetic smile, I stepped through. He barely noticed. Just another face in the flood.

When I reached the elevators, I halted.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, another curl of nerves tightening in my belly.

The longest line I’d ever seen snaked toward the few cars arriving randomly, each one overstuffed before the doors fully opened. Above the entrances, translucent panels pulsed with shifting data—floor traffic, priority access, routing delays—constantly updating faster than anyone could follow. When bells chimed and doors opened, the crowd surged, cramming in where they could, like sardines.

The few times I tried to edge forward, the space in front of me closed, a sea of bodies filling the gap, cutting me off. I was always a breath too slow. A step too late.

One by one, the elevators came and went.

And one by one, the crowd disappeared—until no one was left.

Except me.

I felt dejected. The more I hurried, the more I was delayed.

By the time I get there, will there even be a presentation left to give?I lamented silently.

And then?—

Ding.

Suddenly, a lone elevator arrived. Its doors slid open with a mechanical sigh, warm light spilling out like a quiet invitation.

I raced forward, half expecting it to vanish.

The moment I slipped inside the empty car, I jammed the button for my floor. As the doors closed, I let my head fall back, the adrenaline making me dizzy. The metallic wall against the back of my head was a cool relief.

No sooner had I exhaled when a massive hand slid between the closing gap in the doors, forcing them back open.

A minotaur. One I didn’t recognize.

He squeezed himself in, filling the space, woolly brown-and-black fur framing a broad face partially obscured by wire-rimmed glasses. His glossy black hooves clacked softly against the mirrored floor, his thin tail flicked behind him, poking neatly through a tailored hole in the back of his slate-gray slacks.

He was surprisingly graceful for his size. He pressed a button, then offered me a curt apologetic nod.

The elevator groaned under the added weight as it began its slow, perilous ascent. The minotaur bowed his head slightly to keep his horns from grazing the ceiling and clutched a tiny leather briefcase in front of him with both hands, like a schoolboy guarding his lunchbox.

My gaze went to the lighted floor markers as the elevator churned, willing the car to move more swiftly. The numbers crawled by:5…6…7.Under my breath, I began to recite my presentation, “The future does not appear; it is carved. Roads are not found; they are made by those with vision and the will to press forward. This is not a collaboration but an alignment of dual forces: Skoll Corporation and Vulcan MNE—rooted in power, united in purpose.”

Damn. Had Erik said he wanted united inpurpose? Or united invision?

“Big presentation?” the minotaur asked. For someone so large, his voice was soft, almost meek. I realized he’d been watching me with curiosity as I tried to fix myself.

“Pretty obvious, huh? Sorry,” I answered with a small, distracted smile, which felt more like a grimace. My voice sounded nasally from the air-conditioning, and I cleared my throat, feeling like something was perpetually stuck there.

We stopped eight floors early.