A very uncomfortable Lennie opened the cell the following morning. I tried to give him space and didn't say anything as we walked down the hallway. We made it to the showers, and Lennie stopped and pointed to a pile of clothes on a bench.
"Um, shower and dress, and I'll stand right here," he said, not looking me in the eye.
I nodded, scooped up the clothes, and slipped into the showers, letting my ragged shorts fall to the tile floor. My hair wasn't very long; they had shaved it when I got here, much to my dismay. I doubted I would be allowed to grow it back out. As nice as washing the grime and sweat off was, I didn't linger, toweling off and pulling the new clothes over my thin frame. The blue shorts hung on me and the t-shirt wasn't any better. Against my better judgment, I glanced once into a mirror, frowning at the sharp cheekbones and hollow eyes. My brown hair stuck in all directions and I patted it down futilely before returning to Lennie who was shifting from foot to foot.
"I'm done," I said.
He walked away without acknowledging me and I followed. I wasn't used to the new route, and so looked about at the offices and people we passed. He opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I did so with a little trepidation. There was a long oblong table with several people sitting around it. The only one I recognized was Dr. Bryce. She gave me a smile when I entered and gestured at a chair. Lennie left as I sat down very reluctantly.
"How are you, Conor?" Dr. Bryce inquired.
"Fine," I replied warily. I didn't lean back in my chair, but instead sat stiffly, fiddling with the cuffs at my wrists.
"These gentlemen would like to ask you some questions," she said. "I trust you'll not shift and maul us all?"
"No, ma'am," I replied.
I recognized a couple of the men from yesterday, and wondered they could want from me. I didn't like the abrupt interrogation and worried I couldn't keep my cool about my pack.
One man shuffled a stack of papers in front of him; I recognized the photo, even upside down as me, though back when I had been processed by the police. After full moon, and I had shifted back into a person, I had been quickly transferred from agency to agency before ending up here.
"I'll be blunt, Conor. You interest us," the man said. "I'm Mr. Danube. Tell me about yourself."
"I've been a wolf since I can remember," I replied. "I lived in the country as a farmhand. I was arrested for a murder I didn't commit."
"A farmhand?" he questioned sharply.
"Fixing fence, working cattle, baking pie?" I hazarded. "Is there something odd about this?"
"You're a werewolf," another man scoffed. "You held down a job around people who I can only assume were normal. Did they know that you were a monster?"
"I'm not a monster," I replied a little tersely. "I've never tortured anyone in my life. And I've certainly never cut anyone's arm off to watch it grow back."
The room was deafening in its silence. I regretted my words; my time in this place had changed me. I would have never argued with authority figures before.
"He has a point," Mr. Danube remarked in the quiet. "Dr. Bryce, I believe you are right about Conor. He's quite different."
I held my tongue, hating that they spoke about me as if I wasn't here.
"We have a proposal for you," Dr. Bryce told me. "Work with us, Conor. Prove that you can be rational and help us stop the others who aren't."
"Other werewolves you mean," I said doubtfully.
YOU ARE READING
Toy Wolf
Werewolf{🐾Book 2🐾 } Captured for a murder he didn't commit, Conor is forced to adjust to a life of experiments, and to his odd cellmate, a bitter vampire named Stefa. As the scientists question what he is, he will be pushed past his breaking point and p...
