Chapter 7: Sawyer

I sat in the back on the drive to Tremont and let Patrick do what he was best at. His absent-minded professor look was about as threatening as a flop-eared rabbit, and tended to instantly put people at ease. Elodie was no exception.

She was shy at first, something I found rather fascinating given how readily she'd sparred with me in the clearing yesterday. Then again, I'd clearly underestimated how badly I'd scared her. Note to self: Behaving like an enraged animal while on two feet is not going to earn Elodie's trust. Regardless of my issues with my dad, I was going to have to put a leash on my beast and turn back into something resembling civilized if I wanted a shot with this girl. A shot at what exactly, I chose not to analyze too closely just now.

"So where are you from originally, Elodie?" asked Patrick.

She looked faintly startled at the question, and I wondered why. It was a normal enough thing to ask.

"Your accent," he clarified. "Doesn't sound like you're from around here."

"Oh. No. I grew up in Texas."

When she said nothing else, Patrick shifted gears. "What got you interested in the project?"

"We went on a field trip to Alligator River Wildlife Refuge in zoology my sophomore year, and I was one of the lucky ones to actually see a few of the wolves while we were there. I just... They used to range throughout the entire south eastern U.S. and the fact that now there are comparatively so few... It makes me sad, I guess. I wanted to do something to help. So when Mr. Jorgensen told me Dr. McGrath was coming, I put in an application."

Well that shot down any crazy notion that she'd somehow discovered my identity and weaseled her way in to get to know me. Not that I'd seriously considered that as an explanation for more than half a second when I first saw her at the conference table.

"You must be quite the student," I remarked, reaching between the seats to snag a handful of chips from the bag of Doritos Patrick had shoved into the center console. "Dad doesn't usually take on anybody below the graduate level."

Elodie shrugged. "I'm good at school."

"More than good, I'd say. Grant said with your credentials, you could have your pick of top schools," said Patrick.

"Maybe if money wasn't an object. I'm hoping the experience I get on the project will help me when I start applying for scholarships this year."

Smart. Thinking of the future. Okay, she totally didn't fit the profile of somebody suicidal. Maybe she really was out there for some other reason yesterday. Which just sparked my curiosity all the more. Not that I expected her to actually, you know, tell me.

"So you're making the wolves your cause?" I asked.

"My cause?"

"Sure. Colleges love to see extracurricular causes. Habitat for Humanity. Literacy drives. Blood drives. Race for the Cure. You know, the stuff that says you have a life beyond school and that you're interested in the community or the larger world or whatever."

"You make it sound so bloodthirsty and calculated." Her offended idealism made me smile.

"College applications are bloodthirsty and calculated."

Elodie was quiet for a minute, shaking her head in what was probably disgust. "I've heard them," she said at last.

"Pardon?"

"The wolves," she clarified.

"At Alligator River?" asked Patrick.

"No. I mean, yes, I heard them there. But I mean I've heard them here. In the park."

We both looked at her.

"That's not possible," he said.

"I know there aren't supposed to be any wolves here. On our field trip, the guide talked all about the repopulation efforts in various parts of the South during the 80s and 90s and how Alligator River was the only place it had been semi-successful and that the remaining wolves from the last attempt here were taken there. And I know you're thinking it was probably dogs or coyotes, but I know the difference between them and a wolf howling."

Patrick absorbed that for a minute. "When was this?"

"Off and on over the last four years. Mostly at night or at dusk."

A muscle in Patrick's jaw started to twitch, a sure sign that he was excited. But his voice was still bland when he said, "That would be quite the scientific find, Elodie. Have you seen any?"

Elodie shook her head. "No. But they're out there."

I sat back in my seat, frowning. Claims of wolves where there should be none. I didn't like the sound of that. Either there were pups from the last attempt that had survived and reproduced without the original scientists being aware of it - which didn't seem likely given their vulnerability to canine diseases - or there were others of my kind in the area. Werewolves are rare and typically so dominant they can't live in packs like normal wolves. I wondered if Dad knew anything about this and if that's what had prompted him to sign on with Patrick to redo a study that had already failed. If he didn't know and there were others in the area, we could have problems.