Matthew tossed his sandwich crust back onto his plate and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sure, I’ll do it.” He shot Claire the tiniest look. “But you know what I’ll be telling them.”
“Wha—now. Matthew. I thought we were finished discussing the issue.”
The look in Dr. Engle’s eyes chilled Claire. The fury of the self-righteous nestled there like ice.
“You’re right. I am done discussing it. You’re wrong about the werewolf, Dad. You’re not going to listen to me and I’m not going to listen to you. But I’m sure the thousands of people watching Channel Six tonight will be very interested to hear what I have to say. And I bet that someone from Lycanthropy Researchers will be watching too.”
Dr. Engle stood up. “I will not tolerate you defending that soulless creature for one more second. It doesn’t have the right to live among humans—it’s a mistake, a mutation. It should never have existed at all!”
The snarl rose in Claire’s throat before she could stop it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stood and faced him, nostrils flared.
Matthew’s mouth fell open.
Dr. Engle gave a short, hard laugh. “Of course not. I’m only one of the most innovative lycanthropy researchers in the nation. I’m part of the Federal Human Protection Agency. Why would I know what I’m talking about?” He looked up at the ceiling as though he could find patience in its smooth, white expanse.
Claire bit her lip. Oh, crap. I really should have kept my mouth shut. What if he figures out that my mom is the wolf that he captured? From underneath her lowered eyelids, she scanned his face. It held plenty of anger, but no suspicion.
“And you”—Dr. Engle turned to Matthew—“would do well to remember that it is never wise to bite the hand that feeds you.” He threw his napkin down onto the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go prepare for the news crew.”
He stalked out of the room, and Claire heard a door slam in another part of the house.
Matthew pushed away his plate. “God, I’m sorry he’s such an ass.” He looked at Claire. “I can’t believe you stood up to him like that. Everyone else just buys his crap without even thinking about it.” Admiration shone in his eyes.
“Buyer beware, right?” Claire grinned. Tonight was going to be her night. Matthew was furious enough with his father that she was sure she could convince him to show her where the lab was. Once she knew how to get in, all she had to do was figure out how to sneak her mother out without being seen.
Maybe once she got her mother back they could start their own pack, just the two of them. Let Beatrice and Victoria clean up the mess Zahlia had made. Her mother shouldn’t have to sneak around doing the work that their Alpha was too scared to do. That was the only reason she’d gotten caught, after all. If Beatrice had kept Zahlia in check, her mother never would have been captured.
“Ready to go?” Matthew asked.
Claire nodded. She blinked hard, clearing her head, and followed Matthew out to the car.
They drove around aimlessly while Matthew ranted about his father. Claire’s senses strained as she tracked his scent, his expression, the way he held his body. Carefully, she fed his rage, using little comments and almost unnoticeable gestures. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was egging him on.
“It’s just ridiculous!” Matthew pounded the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I mean, you should see this wolf, Claire. It’s the most gentle thing—I know it’s an animal, but, dammit, there is nothing evil about it!”
Her surge of adrenaline was strong enough to be painful. This was the moment.
“I wish I could see it,” she said softly. “If it’s really as gentle as you say …” An image of her mother ripping at a newly dead deer flashed through her mind. Well, she’s gentle where people are concerned, at least.
Matthew turned to her, his eyes ablaze. “You can!”
Success leapt through Claire. “Really?” She kept the excitement in her voice to the tiniest glimmer.
“Yes. Dad’ll be busy with the freaking media for hours, and no one goes to the lab at night, anyway.” His face turned serious. “You’d have to swear never to tell a soul that I took you.”
“Of course,” Claire said.
“Okay.” Matthew’s grip on the steering wheel turned purposeful. “It’ll only take us about ten minutes to get there. My dad”—he snorted—“hates long commutes.”
Chapter Nineteen
THE BUILDING LOOKED exactly the same as the ones on either side of it: a long stretch of cinderblock, punctuated with corrugated metal doors. Far above, a lighted sign announced to the highway self storage! first month free! Claire stared at Matthew. In the eerie light of the mercury lamps, his face looked drawn.