“I scared the hell out of myself.” I chuckled. “Shifting into a wolf hadn’t been on the evening’s agenda. Plus I kind of thought I was dying, so that put a serious damper on the whole thing. My limbs felt like they were being sawed apart by a dull blade.”
“The first time is always rough,” my father said. “Especially if I’m not there to guide the transition. It’s much better if you don’t fight the process and stay calm. The tranq would’ve eliminated the pain. Why didn’t you use it?” My father slid a chair over and pulled it next to the bed and sat. “That was our agreed-upon failsafe if you ever started to shift. You were to inject yourself, knock yourself out, and we would find you. No damage to you in the process. You could’ve died jumping out of your apartment and it’s lucky the gunshot didn’t sever your spinal cord. I put my trust into you, into our agreement. I expected you to follow it to the letter.”
“I’m sorry.” I plucked at the bedsheets like an errant child. “I tried to reach the dose, but I didn’t make it. I have no one to blame but myself. I transferred the case from my bedside stand to the bathroom cabinet a few years ago. I thought it was close enough, but honestly, I never thought I’d need it. It’s been over ten years since I hit puberty and we’d always been told I wasn’t genetically coded to shift.” I paused for a second. “I’m sorry. I thought you were being overprotective as usual.”
“Dear Jessica!” Dr. Jace entered the room, his familiar white hair fanning around his face like a fragile halo, his expression full of open amusement and wonder. “You gave us quite a fright! You’re a miracle, young lady, truly a miracle.” He shuffled to my bedside, grabbed on to my hand, and patted it affectionately. “Who would’ve thought it possible? A true female among us. Amazing! Truly amazing!”
“Doc Jace.” I tilted my cheek toward him so he could give it a quick peck. “It’s great to see you again. It’s been too long. You’re looking well.” This man was the closest thing to a grandfather I’d ever known. He was an Essential human in our Pack, like his father and grandfather before him—meaning he knew our secrets, worked for us, but was not supernatural himself. Essentials were a necessity in every supernatural Sect, since the human race had no idea we existed. They were doctors, teachers, lawyers; individuals recruited to play a special role within the Sect. Doc Jace was a brilliant doctor, an extreme asset to our Pack. “I’m so glad you’re here”—I flashed him a grin—“because you’re just the man to answer a burning question.”
“Of course,” he said. “I will always do my best to answer your questions, Jessica.”
“How did I survive? I thought I wasn’t coded for wolf, that it would be impossible for me to make a full transition, and if my body chemistry did change late after puberty I’d likely die from the ordeal. But I’m alive.”
Doc absently stroked his short beard. “Males carry their wolf markers on their second Y chromosome, very uncommon indeed, but they are there, coded very clearly. You have never had any such indicators and no second chromosome. My best guess is your body must carry the gene, the one that marks you as a wolf, elsewhere, perhaps in a noncoded region. But as you can guess, I will be doing exhaustive research on that very topic.” He patted my hand. “Exciting work it is.” Puzzling over our genes was his life’s work. “Having you make a successful transformation as a female is revolutionary. We are blazing a new trail with this research. It will be marvelous indeed.”
I already knew it was revolutionary, because females didn’t exist in our race. My birth had sparked a frenzy of discontent, which was enhanced to a breaking point by a certain unsubstantiated but extremely well-circulated myth proclaiming I was pure evil, a menace placed on earth for the sole purpose of bringing down the race of wolves. Once the Pack found out about my new status as a full-blooded wolf, there was going to be a huge uproar, and everything I’d built for myself would slide straight down the drain. Without going into all that with the Doctor, I asked instead, “What time is it? How long have I been out?”
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning,” Doc answered. “You’ve been asleep for nearly eighteen hours, which is not uncommon for a wolf recuperating from a traumatic injury. I’m guessing you’re ready for some coffee and some breakfast? You must be famished. Shifting utilizes an incredible amount of energy, and newborn wolves are more hungry by nature.”