Risking a glance at them, I found the three women watching me with unabashed interest, their heads bent close together. I caught the words “werewolf girl” and “Johnson” and my shoulders stiffened. It looked like news of my little altercation with Johnson in the parking garage had already spread around the office like wildfire and become lunchtime fodder for the masses. It turns out that even the FBI is prone to idle watercooler gossip.
In a flash, I was transported back to my high school days. I shuddered at the memory of being the girl with no parents, always hovering on the fringes of the various cliques, never seeming to fit in anywhere. My time at college hadn’t met with much success, either.
With just a couple of quickly whispered words by a group of strangers, I was transformed into that unsure girl. And that just pissed me off.
Turning my back on the women, I stomped over to the coffee machine, trying to keep my hands from curling into fists at the sound of their whispered suppositions. Their judgment grated on my nerves and set a fire in my chest. I could feel the muscles in my shoulders tightening while my jaw stiffened until my teeth ground together with near shattering force. I was beyond tired and frustrated, and what little patience I had left was rapidly wilting beneath the heat of my mounting anger. A snorting chortle from the older woman in the group was the final straw, and, like the proverbial camel’s back, my resolve broke.
My eyes bled over to gold in a single heartbeat, my anger lending strength to the wolf, calling her up from the dark recesses deep inside. By some small miracle I managed to avoid wolfing out right in the middle of the FBI lunch room, but the effort of keeping the wolf at bay made my entire body tremble.
I was able to pinpoint the exact moment that they realized something was wrong. The room went deathly quiet the instant their hindbrains kicked in, the part that instinctively knows they should be afraid of the dark and the monsters it held. The tension was palpable, and the air was suddenly redolent with the tantalizing scent of their fear.
It took a herculean force of will not to shift at the sound of their chairs pushing back from the table in a rush. Under the guise of inspecting the selection of tea, I listened to them gathering up the remnants of their lunch, their frantic steps torture on my frayed self-control. The wolf wanted to chase them down and sink her teeth into the softness of their flesh. Holding my breath I ignored the intoxicating scent of their panic, ignored the way it called seductively to the wolf, luring her ever closer to the surface.
It wasn’t until their steps had faded away down the hall that I let my breath out slowly between clenched teeth. Flexing my fingers at my sides I hissed at the burning sensation of the air hitting the fresh crescents my nails had gouged into my palms. Stumbling to the nearby sink I turned on the cold water and splashed it over my face, sloshing just as much down the front of my sweater in a display of my typical grace.
After the attack, it had taken a long time, and a lot of close calls, to get a handle on the wolf and her mercurial temper. Most of the time I was able to keep her in check, especially if I made sure to take regular runs through the woods, sating her need for the hunt. In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had lost control. I was shaken at having come so horrifyingly close to losing it in a public place. Somehow I didn’t think a building full of FBI agents would hesitate to put me down. After all, it is illegal to shift in public. Living alone in the wilderness has its distinct advantages.
The coffee sitting on the burner was bitter smelling and looked as thick as tar, but it was caffeine and it was hot. I ignored the tremor in my hands as I filled a cup, added three packets of sugar and a heaping dose of powdered creamer. I almost spit it back out after my first, tentative sip. Dumping more sugar and creamer into my cup, I flipped open the bakery box on the counter to find a couple dried donuts sitting amongst a sea of crumbs.
My stomach rumbled at the sight of the stale donuts. After all, a stale donut is still a donut, and donuts are delicious little fried gifts from heaven. Besides, even I knew that bitter coffee on an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea. Before guilt overrode me, I shoved a crusty, glazed donut into my mouth, the dry dough turning to glue the moment it hit my tongue.
Good job, genius, I thought, grimacing as I swallowed the dry lump of fried dough, washing it down with a mouthful of burnt coffee. Ten thousand dollars for a toilet seat and they can’t afford decent coffee?
Glancing around to make sure there were no witnesses, I snagged the last donut before darting back to Holbrook’s office. It wasn’t the healthiest meal I’d ever had, but then again, I’d eaten whole rabbits still warm and twitching, so who was I to complain?