Pocket Apocalypse Page 89

He slumped forward. Cooper produced a gun from the other side of his belt and fired twice, putting both shots into the back of Mick’s head. The big man went limp, the smell of his emptied bowels mixing with the equally unpleasant odors of blood and cordite. Cooper kicked him in the leg. Mick didn’t move.

“Big bastard seemed like a grand idea, but he wasn’t,” he said. “Never buy in bulk if you’re hoping to get quality goods, that’s what I’m taking away from this one.”

I was probably meant to be stunned by the fact that he would kill one of his own people so easily. He’d clearly never dealt with harpies in the middle of a territory dispute. I raised an eyebrow, squinting to see through my blood-spattered lenses, and said, “That sounds like an excellent moral.”

“And here I was afraid you’d be no fun.” Cooper walked across the room to me. I stopped working on the rope that held my hands, holding perfectly still as he removed my glasses, spat on the lenses, and wiped them clean on his shirt. Then he replaced them on my nose, pushing them gingerly into place. “Sorry about the mess. We’re hard as hell to kill once we get going, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t have a chance to make things any messier than they had to be.” His three remaining werewolves had drawn close together, forming a small, terrified huddle.

Cooper was setting himself up as the unquestioned alpha of his little pack—a power dynamic that had a lot more to do with human psychology than it did with animal behavior. I didn’t know about werewolves, for obvious reasons, but real wolves don’t follow that sort of hierarchy. People just think they do, and if there’s one thing people are good at, it’s projecting their own distorted desires onto the animal kingdom.

“I’m drenched in blood and you’re intending to turn me into a werewolf against my own stated preferences,” I said. “I’m not seeing how this could get any messier.”

“I promise, you’ll enjoy being one of us.” Cooper smiled, showing off all his teeth. “It’s the best of all possible worlds.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “If you bite me or infect me through any other means, I won’t help you.”

Cooper blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. I didn’t come to Australia to become a werewolf. My family would probably be tolerant, since they’re good that way, but it would interfere with my plans for the future. I would thus very much rather not.”

Cooper blinked again. He didn’t seem to be fully processing what I was saying. “You can’t just refuse to become a werewolf.”

“I didn’t refuse to become a werewolf, I refused to help you if you turned me into one,” I said. “I appreciate the fact that you’ve moved on to threatening me indoors like a civilized person, but my answer remains the same. I do not wish to become a werewolf. Thank you, but no thank you.”

“Is he serious?” demanded Chloe. “That isn’t how this works.”

I leaned a little to the side in order to get a clear look at her. “Actually, yes, it is,” I said. “I’m assuming you wanted me because you’re looking for information about your condition. There are some negative side effects, after all, and if I were you, I would very much want a trained biologist on my side. And if I am intentionally infected, I will fight you until you either have to kill me or let me go, at which point I will return to America to be cared for by my own family, and any chance you might have had of exploiting what I know will be gone. Bite me, and you lose.”

Chloe stared at me. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Oh, you’ll help us,” said Cooper, dragging my attention back to him. Chloe’s interjection had apparently given him time to recover his train of thought. Pity. I preferred my assholes confused and easily manipulated. “See, what you’re forgetting is that you’re not the only one I can sink my teeth into. So you say you won’t help us if we bite you? I say you’re going to be begging for it after we bite your fiancée.”

“Shouldn’t I be begging you to bite me instead of biting Shelby?” I asked, struggling to keep my tone neutral. I couldn’t let him see how much the question had upset me. If I did, he’d know he was on the right track. “And don’t think I missed how you stopped referring to her as my girlfriend and started calling her my fiancée as soon as you thought you could use her against me.”

“Nah.” Cooper grinned. “I’m going to bite her no matter what you do. But once she’s one of us, you’ll help, just for the chance to keep her alive. Maybe that’ll be my wedding gift to the pair of you—a little nip so you can make healthy pups.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” This wasn’t in the plan. Much as I wanted to be alone—it would make it easier to get out of these damn ropes—I didn’t want him going after Shelby.

“You know where I’m going,” said Cooper. He opened the door leading out of the room. I caught a glimpse of empty, unfurnished hallway. We were in another safe house, then; what little I had seen had the unmistakable hallmarks of the Thirty-Six Society’s absolute lack of design sense. “Shelby will be thrilled to know that you’ve been found. Chloe, Trigby, you’re with me. Blithe, you stay here and keep an eye on our guest.”

Chloe and the previously unnamed male werewolf fell in behind Cooper, following him out of the room. Chloe cast a grin back over her shoulder at me, blowing a quick kiss before she stepped into the hall and slammed the door.

The remaining werewolf—Blithe—smiled apologetically. “Sorry about all this,” she said. “Cooper said there’d be some resistance, and maybe his methods aren’t the nicest, but he really does have our best interests at heart. You’ll see. Once you’ve had a chance to take a couple of deep breaths and think about it, you’ll understand.”

“Cooper just killed a man in front of you,” I said, slowly. “He slit his throat and then shot him in the head. Isn’t that a problem for you?”

“Nah,” said Blithe, shrugging. “Werewolves always have issues, no matter where we’re at. I mean, back in New Zealand, I got accused of harrying sheep. As if I would. No point in bothering the flocks when they belong to the people I know. Tourists are much tastier.”

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