Page 82 of Bewitching the Wolf

I shake the memory off. It’s probably just a glitch.

I move stealthily over to the desk and attach a bug to the underside. I move around the room, placing them in the allocated spots. Another goes inside the phone receiver, a third inside a vase on the shelf. I feel the cape readying itself to leave when I hear voices.

Male and female. The sharp pitch of Marsha Winters’ voice is like ice running down my spine.

The male, I don’t recognize. Certainly, it’s not Ronald DeVine.

The cape whisks me into a corner of the room and I watch.

Marsha enters, tap-tapping on impossibly high black patent heels. She throws herself down in the chair at her desk. The man with her is impeccably dressed in a dark suit. He has salt and pepper hair and an intelligent, lean face. His brows are pleated into a deep frown as he stands opposite Marsha, rubbing at his jaw.

“You’re telling me there were signs of life this morning. After all these years?”

“Yes, ma’am. A pulse was picked up just an hour ago. It seems to be erratic, but it was recorded on our system.”

“What about brain function? What is the EEG showing?”

“Nothing. As yet.”

“The heart?”

“Flatlining as usual.”

“Bah. This is nonsense. You can’t have a pulse without heart or brain function. The life-support system must be malfunctioning.” She throws herself back in the chair and starts drumming long red fingernails on the desk.

“Ma’am, we have checked all the equipment. It’s working perfectly.”

Marsha curses.

She bounces back up, struts around the desk and eyeballs the guy. To give him credit, he stands his ground, but his throat bobs as he swallows. “Tell me, Petrovis, since you’ve got all the medical know-how, and a string of letters after your fucking name. How could this be possible?”

“Maybe it’s from another energy force—outside of the brain.”

Marsha laughs harshly. “We’re talking about the deepest coma ever recorded in a human. And you’re trying to tell me something outside of the body is doing this? Frankly, I wonder, Doctor, if you’re up to the job I’ve entrusted you with.”

He stands stiffly, arms at his sides. “I remain confident that I am the most qualified person to be in charge of Project Earth Air, ma’am.”

Her lip curls. “After the past few months, I’m beginning to wonder. First, you mislay Samantha Buggins. She was in your charge, and she slipped out from under your fucking nose. Now the other little bitch, Clem Summers, is gone, and the plan to bring her back failed miserably. If she happens to mate down there, like her monster whoring best buddy, we need the offspring. So that’s two potential hybrids lost. And to top it off, you can’t get a word of sense out of that spy, or the soldiers who got attacked a few weeks back—you know, the ones who were tied up by an orc and terrorized by a fucking werewolf. Which is cause for serious concern, is it not?”

“There do seem to have been a few glitches of late, yes ma’am.”

“We have monsters leaking into Sparkle,” she’s scowling now, “and you haven’t found out how or why?”

“Could Jax Summers be behind it, ma’am? I mean, he’s in charge of the peripherals. Could he be our weak link?”

I freeze.

Marsha waves a dismissive hand.

“Jax Summers is doing his job, we have him monitored on camera night and day. No glitch there, no changes to munitions supply, either. So it doesn’t look like a mutiny. Yet. But something is amiss, and now this… this pulse you’re talking about.”

“Modern medicine can only do so much, ma’am…”

“Bah.” She flicks her hand at him as if he’s an insect she would love to crush. “Guess I’ll have to come and check out this mess.” She picks up the phone and barks into it. “Bring the car round to the entrance, NOW.”

She turns to him with a withering look and mimics his words in a high-pitched voice. “Modern medicine can only do so much. You’re right, Doctor.” Then she snarls, “We’re going to have to pull a fucking rabbit out of the hat to fix this one.”

I try to stay motionless, but the cape has started to behave erratically. It’s vibrating, shaking me up and down, like an engine revving, ready for take-off.