I follow him up the creaky steps. Before Sam can knock, the cottage door opens. A tall thin man with thick glasses that magnifies his eyes stands blinking at us.
"Mr. Lawrence?" Sam asks.
Impossibly, the man's eyes get even wider. "Wh-wh-who-" the man sputters, his head jerking to the side a few times.
"We need to come in," Sam pushes inside. I go along, giving poor Mr. Lawrence a sympathetic smile as his eyebrows shoot up in alarm. I'm glad I'm not the only one affected by Sam's peculiar charisma.
We stop in the living room as our reluctant host closes the door. Inside the cottage is clean, uncluttered.
"Wh-who are you?" Adam's apple bobbing wildly, the man finishes his question.
"Look closer. You'll remember."
For a second, the thin man peers at Sam. Then he sucks in a breath and staggers back. Sam catches him, lowering him into a chair by the door. The man folds into it neatly, and sits, twitching even more violently than before.
"It's okay," I reassure. "We're not going to hurt you."
The twitching man blinks up at us. "S-s-s-am?"
"It's me, Laurie," Sam rasps. He pushes up his sleeve to show his scars. With a blur of moment, the man in the chair grabs Sam's forearm. Sam holds still, brow creased, eyes pained as Mr. Lawrence studies the scars beneath the tattoos.
"I thought you were dead," he says in awe.
Sam sinks onto the couch facing Lawrence and the door, and I follow suit.
"I almost died." Sam glances at me a moment before continuing. "I lost control to my animal. Lived in the wild for a while. But an alpha wolf found me. Stood on me until I managed to shift back."
Mr. Lawrence absorbs this, twitching almost constantly.
"Are you all right?" I ask. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine." The man waves away my concern. "I had a medical procedure a few years ago. There were... consequences."
"Wait," I look between him and Sam. "Is that how you two know each other? Were you in the experiments, too?"
"She knows?" Lawrence asks Sam. Alarm flares behind the glasses.
"She knows some. Not all. Not yet."
"Who is she?"
"She's with me."
"I'm Layne," I say.
"Oh forgive me, where are my manners? I'm Laurie."
"Laurie Lawrence?" I ask.
"That's correct. Excuse my rudeness," he goes on as if we hadn't barged into his house. "Would you like something to drink? Water, perhaps?"
"We're fine," Sam says at the same time I say, "Water would be lovely."
Sam raises an eyebrow at me as Laurie gets up and ambles out of the room.
"When someone offers you something in their home, it's polite to accept." One of my mom's little rules.
"I wouldn't know," Sam mutters and a spike of pain for him shoots through my chest. What kind of upbringing did he have? I have so many questions about him.
He rubs a hand up and down my back absently.
When Laurie comes back to hand me a glass of water, the tall man isn't twitching as much.
Until Sam leans forward, an intent look on his face. "I need to find a shifter named Nash. He was also part of the experiments-after we escaped, though. Did you know him?"
"Nash? The lion? Are you s-s-sure?"
"Positive. He's the missing link."
"He showed up a couple months ago. I d-d-didn't know he was part of this. He's..." Laurie shakes his head sharply. It looks like another nervous tic.
"I read his file. He was involved early. Laurie, he volunteered."
"You read his file?" Laurie launches out of his chair, pacing back and forth. "How?"
"Broke in to a Data-X lab yesterday and stole it."
"You..." Laurie's body twitches all over. He reminds me of a bird with his thick glasses magnifying his eyes, and his sharp movements. "The Utah complex. The fire. Was that you?"
"It was actually an explosion," Sam says. "And yeah. It was me."
Laurie sucks in a breath. I knot my hands together to keep them from shaking. Sam is the only one of us who doesn't look worried about admitting to domestic terrorism.
Our host paces back and forth, mumbling to himself.
"Laurie," Sam comes to his feet. "Look at me." The nervous guy does and Sam levels his gaze, turning on the tractor beam. "I'm not a threat to you, or him. I just need to speak to him."
"He won't like it."
"So you know where he is." Sam's voice holds a note of triumph.
Laurie sighs, patting his pockets before touching his glasses as if to reassure himself they're still there. "I-"
Sam cuts him off with a sharp gesture, waving Laurie toward the corner.
"Wha-?" I start to rise and Sam puts his finger to his lips, heading to the door.
Then I hear it. Outside, someone's walking up the steps. A pause, and I hold my breath.
The door slams open, the newcomer enters in a blur of speed, crashing into Sam, shouting, "You'll never take us alive!"
"Stop," Laurie cries. Sam rolls to his feet and snarls-a guttural sound that unhinges my spine. I start forward, but Laurie grabs and pulls me behind the couch.
Sam grapples with the newcomer, knocking over the chair and tussling on the floor.
"Think ya found fresh meat, do ya, wolfie?" Sam's attacker shouts. "I'll fecking gut ya."
"Declan, stop." Laurie runs out from behind the couch, waving his arms. "He's a friend, a friend." The tall man has to duck a piece of the chair that comes flying his way.
"Oh yeah?" The newcomer rolls to his feet, running his hand through his thick black hair. "He's got a mean right hook, make no mistake." His lips curl back in a manic grin, showing all his teeth.
Sam growls. He and the newcomer circle each other again.
"Ya wanna go, wolf boy?" the dark haired man says in an Irish brogue. "I'll cut ya, don't think I won't-"
"Stop it. Both of you," I shriek, and throw my plastic water glass. It misses them, bouncing on the soft floor and splashing water.
The Irishman stops and blinks at his wet shoes. "Who's the bitch?"
Sam snarls again.