Page 5 of Last But Not Leashed

The truth never steered me wrong, and I wielded it as a shield. “She’s unavailable.”

“Your virus disagree. I smell. She wolf? Infected?”

“I don’t know.” If my boss was infected, her perfume hid the scent markers. Infected or not, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Mating ensured infection. No matter what, I couldn’t afford to think of my boss as a potential mate.

My virus liked the idea, I liked the idea, and if I lost control, my boss would be the target of my interest.

Courting males could snap just like courting females, and when it happened, it got ugly. No, I wouldn’t be one of those wolves.

I’d be more than completely certain of my future mate’s interest. I’d be so certain I wouldn’t make the first move, and the only way I’d settle down with a female was if she hunted me, caught me, beat me within an inch of my life, and leashed me so thoroughly I couldn’t escape her even if I tried.

She shook out her fur, canted her head, and watched me. “He belong to us. CDC trade you for him, yes?”

“He’s not a hostage, ma’am. He’s in the hospital.”

“He not here.”

Why did I end up with the crazy jobs? “He’s not here because he’s in the hospital. There’s no need for any sort of trade. He’s really not a hostage.”

“You come. They talk. When they talk, you return safe. He mine. He pack,” the female growled. “No run. You run, you hurt.”

While I tended to be pacifistic in nature, especially for a lycanthrope, if she thought I was going to sit and accept being taken as the hostage of another pack, she was insane. “Why don’t I—”

She jumped for me, taking another swipe with her claws, which tore into my upper arm. With a yelp, I recoiled, hopping back along the dividing wall so I wouldn’t fall among the gathered wolves.

The scent of my blood goaded the other lycanthropes, who dove into the fray with yips and howls. While I’d gotten in some practice mock fighting with my pack, I only managed to dodge the pack’s first few bites before their sharp teeth dug deep into the calf of my left leg and the wolves hauled me off the wall, slamming me into the asphalt.

Provoking a lycanthrope involved two parts: pissing off the human half and waking the virus.

My human half wanted nothing to do with bleeding, and my virus reacted just like expected: it wanted to match drop for drop and add interest. However much I disliked shifting without a good reason, my virus boiled in my veins and was tired of my shit.

It wouldn’t let me go down without a fight.

When magic came out to play, physics and the laws of conservation of matter went right out the window. Many had tried to learn why a hundred and sixty pound man like me could explode from his clothes, gain an extra six hundred pounds, sprout fur, and develop an unfortunate tendency to howl at the moon in the time it took me to draw a single breath.

I called for my pack, although I held no real hope they’d hear me. I didn’t spend enough time as a wolf to form the bonds the others shared. Twisting around, I smashed my paw into the wolf mauling my leg, scruffed him, and tore him off. Showing my fangs, I bellowed in the wolf’s face before chucking him across the parking lot.

He crashed onto the hood and windshield of a car, its alarm singing a shrill song.

The female barked a warning. “Hybrid! You? You?”

I understood her astonishment completely, but before I had a chance to reply, she lunged for me. My virus’s fury over being attacked and outnumbered gave me the strength to toss two more of the wolves before I fell beneath them. The female did most of the work, pinning me with her weight and sinking her claws deep into the back of my neck. “Sur-ren-der or die. Your choice.”

The sharp stab of her claws burying in my throat fell under the heat of my fury, and when I tensed, she dug in deeper. The stench of my blood deadened my nose to all other scents, and while I growled, I kept still.

“Good. You stay. Pack need male hybrid. You help. You have strong virus. You share. Pack grow strong. You bring my future mate back. All be good.”

I bared my teeth in defiance, and she tightened her grip, cutting off my breath.

Why, why, why did I always attract the crazy ones? Ah, right. I worked as a CDC contractor. It was in my job description. When my boss got her hands on me, she’d make the pack’s attack pale in comparison.

My virus would like it, too.

“You mine now. Me stronger.”

I struggled to suck in a breath, and my vision blurred. It didn’t take long or my body to go limp beneath hers. When she eased her hold on me enough I could breathe, I wheezed.

“Pat. Shift. Get car. We take hybrid.”