“I mean the testing happening right here in the Bittech labs.”
“Rewind for a minute so I can understand because I must be missing something. You’re saying Bittech is testing folks. Isn’t that what a lab is supposed to do?”
“Yes, and on the surface, that’s fine. What’s not fine is the fact they’re not just taking samples from those volunteering. They’re bringing in samples from folks who have no idea.”
“How can people not know? I mean, I’m pretty sure I’d notice if someone was sticking me with a needle and drawing blood.”
“In some cases, they’re stealing it from employers, like the fire station, which is mandated to drug test its guys every so often. And the vet, who sends Bittech samples to check for disease and viruses.”
Again, not a huge deal, given shifter blood samples could only go to those in on the secret, like Bittech. “So they’re keeping samples sent to them. I’m not seeing the big deal yet.”
“Because there are other samples they’ve gotten that weren’t freely given. My Uncle Bob, who hasn’t seen a doctor since the summer of eighty-seven when he tangled with that nest of vipers, has a file. As does Kerry, my cousin, even though she just moved into town three months ago. There are lots of others, too. Seems like they’re documenting everyone in town.”
“But why?” Caleb asked.
At that query, Wes shrugged. “Fucked if I know. Initially, the lab was started back in the seventies so that our scientists could study our condition. It then evolved into the doctors helping the hybrid couples get pregnant”—because mixed species didn’t procreate easily—“and they’ve also been working on fabricating our own form of medicine for those rare diseases our shapeshifting genes can’t combat. When it comes to cases such as those, I can understand why they kept stuff on file. But the samples I saw numbered in the hundreds. Your brother is in there. Your mother, too. What the hell do they need those samples for?”
A valid question, but it raised others. “How do you know about all this?”
Wes smiled. “As head of security, I see lots of stuff, even things I’m not supposed to. Things that don’t make sense, like the number of humans now working here.”
“Humans?” Caleb couldn’t help an incredulous note. “I could have sworn my brother said most of the people working here are either one of us or in on the secret.”
“They used to be. A few months ago, the institute went on a hiring spree. Humans mostly. Humans who don’t start out knowing what we are but are told once they pass a few tests. The company has been giving them samples of our blood and hair to play with.”
A chill went through Caleb. Hadn’t he heard rumors while in the military of scientists messing around with their blood? The whispers at the time were frightening if true. They’re creating an army of monsters.
And, yes, he meant create. While birth could result in the creation of new shifters, it wasn’t always the case. Look at Renny, whose ursine-based father produced an unenhanced daughter.
I don’t know that I’d call her unenhanced. Renny might not turn into something with claws, but she was definitely special.
So special that even her father’s attempt to have her changed didn’t take root. See, people could become shifters as well. But it wasn’t simple. Nothing so easy as a scratch or a bite like the movies portrayed. The creation of a new shifter required the exchange of fluids, lots of fluids, blood being the vehicle of choice, siphoned out of a host and filtered into a human. Not that hard to do with today’s technology, but it didn’t always work. Most bodies rejected the shifter gene. Some theorized it made sure they didn’t overpopulate. Probably a good thing, given the animal within didn’t always play nice with others.
“What are the scientists looking for?” Caleb asked.
“That’s what I wanted to know, so I asked Andrew.”
“And?”
“The little prick told me to mind my fucking business. That all work conducted was being done with the full knowledge of the High Council, and that if I knew what was good for me, I’d keep my mouth shut.”
“The little prick actually threatened you? And you didn’t kill him?”
Nothing changed outwardly. Wes still wore his human guise, yet when he smiled, white teeth gleaming, it was all gator. “It was close.”
“Andrew doesn’t want you blabbing, yet here you are telling me this.”
“Sometimes a man needs allies.”
“Since when are we on the same team?”
“Since something doesn’t smell right, and as much as I dislike you, I don’t think you’d stand by and watch this town get fucked.”