Chapter 39: Run Girl Run

I want to wake up from the nightmare, but it’s not a dream. It just keeps getting worse. As Marcel leaps towards Nora, she moves swiftly, faster than a woman of her build should be able to. Nora reaches around, and I realize why she’d backed up against the table. It wasn’t to steady herself but rather to reach for a syringe. As Marcel leaps towards her, she plunges the needle into his neck before he can get her. He staggers for a moment, panting. I feel like my heart stops beating as I watch him fall to the ground.

The sight of Marcel collapsing is enough to break me out of my shock, and I’m about to rush toward him when I hear him groan. Thank the Moon Goddess, he’s alive and conscious. Nora straightens herself up, smoothing out her clothes.

“I’m sorry, Marcel. I didn’t want to do that, but you left me no choice. Now, you stay here while I go fetch your father. He’ll know how to sort out this mess and talk some sense into you,” she says, sounding like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. It’s as though she’d just put him in time-out instead of injecting him with a debilitating dose of Wolf’s Bane. I bite back the bile in my throat as she walks away.

When she closes the door behind her, I dart out of my hiding spot towards Marcel, phone in hand. He’s lying on the ground, breathing heavily. He’s conscious, but there’s something very, very wrong. His proportions are all wrong; his limbs longer than they should be, and his paws stretched out in the shape of hands with twisted claws at the end. It was so fast, and I was watching Nora leave, so I didn’t even notice the change happening. His entire body is contorted into an unnatural shape, not human but not wolf either. Fangs protrude from his lips, but when he opens his eyes, they are unmistakably human and full of fear.

“Oh by the Goddess…”

I don’t know how much of his current state was caught on camera, but I stop recording. I already have the evidence I need, and the very idea of filming any more of this makes me sick.

“Valerie, you have to go,” he manages to say. I can see some of the bones under his skin and fur, caught in a perverse state of mid-shift and unable to fully settle into either form.

“No, I’m not leaving you like this,” I sob, even though a part of me already knows he’s right.

“You’ll be killed. You won’t be able to help me if they catch you… You need to go.” His voice sounds distorted and strained, somewhere between words and growls.

This can’t be happening. I shake my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. The sound of footsteps echoes on the other side of the door in the distance.

“We’ll come back for you. I promise. We’ll get you help,” I mutter as I stagger backward. The clock is ticking, and I need to get out of here. I won’t be of any use to Marcel if I’m caught and killed.

I shift into my wolf form, grabbing my phone in my muzzle as gently as possible. I’m smaller and more agile like this, so I’ll be able to move faster. I turn to Marcel one last time. It kills me to leave him like this. His voice seeps into my mind, garbled and muffled, like our mind link is a broken radio with a corrupted signal. Still, I’m able to make out a single word.

‘Go.’

Crawling out of the air duct is easier in my wolf form. I take extra care with the phone between my fangs, careful not to bite down or drop it. Once I’m at the edge of the vent, I stop. I need to breathe. I need to think. My phone hangs from my muzzle, but I can’t call Dorian in this form, and I can’t just leave Marcel in that state.

I want to tell myself that he’ll be okay, but the fact that his own mother just did that to him begs to differ. I don’t think either of the Ernoufs is capable of killing their own son. Even they cannot be so monstrous. Still, he’s far from safe. Until the poison wears off, he won’t be able to defend himself.

It’s only a matter of time before they find the unscrewed vent, and even without it, I doubt they’d think Marcel was working alone. The first thing they’ll do is question him and find out who’s with him. The list of potential culprits is a short one. If the Ernoufs are willing to drug their own son, what the hell will they do if they catch me?

I can’t afford to find out. Anthony and his scheme have to be stopped. Thanks to the recording, I have the means to do that. I just need to figure out how to use it. I need to find Dorian and regroup, but before I go, I test the mind link one more time, trying to reach Marcel. Our telepathic bond is there, but just barely.

‘Marcel. Can you hear me? I’m going to find Dorian. We’re going to get you out of there, okay? Talk to me. What’s going on?’

I project my thoughts at him, trying to sense his mind with my own. It feels groggy and distant, and I struggle to make out what he means.

‘…my father is… I can’t… the poison… I’m okay….’

The effects of the Wolf’s Bane are drowning out his wolf, and I can scarcely understand him. Nevertheless, I think he’s alright. Well, relatively alright. I should go. If anyone else shifts near me, they’ll be able to read my thoughts too. For now, I only sense Marcel, but who knows how long that will last.

‘Okay. Hang tight. Don’t provoke your parents. You can’t fight them right now. I have proof of what they’ve done, so I’ll handle it from here. You just hold on and stay safe.’

I don’t know how, but I know I have to fix this. I’m going to make them pay for what they’ve done.

I poke my head out of the vent, making sure the path is clear, and I’m about to step out when I feel a twinge of guilt. Shame prickles my mind like a tiny thorn, but it’s not coming from me. It’s Marcel’s. This can’t be good.

‘I had to… can’t stand up to him… I’m sorry… had to tell… fuck, Valerie… run… they know… run… Valerie, run!’

No! It’s too soon. They weren’t supposed to figure it out this fast. Marcel can’t handle feeling weak, and in his vulnerable state, it wouldn’t take much to break him. Still, I thought he’d hold out a little longer. I believed he wouldn’t tell them everything right away. I should have known. I bite back the heartache of disappointment. I loved him for years, and he betrayed me in minutes, the cowardly lion. If you take away his claws and his bite, he’s just a little boy, scared of his dad. I’d pity him if I didn’t have bigger problems.

But they’ll be coming after me next.