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Eight. Creepy Doctor Carson Has a Hidden Agenda, I Guarantee it

My sweet, compassionate Sir Jase has a hell of a right hook, I will tell you. I found it completely unbelievable at first when Nick was talking about that supposed temper of his, but watching him lay into the punching bag right now, I can say without a doubt he can be terrifying, even in his human form. This must be what every other animal sees in his eyes when they cower and cringe away from him, obeying his every command.

I find that intense look of concentration and those savage jabs a little intimidating too, but also just insanely hot. Paired with the fact that he had once again made the fine choice to exercise shirtless… Yes, I am a hopeless fan-girl now. Shame me all you want, but it is just too hard not to fawn all over this boy. Not only is he gorgeous and fierce, but I swear to you that even his sweat smells appealing. Maybe just to my cat nose, but I bet it’s got nothing to do with those senses at all. I really wish in fact that I could be rid of those senses and find my way back to a freaking human body!

Sadly, it’s been another failure of a morning on that front. The sunrise did not free me of my furry prison like it did for this hunky wolf. I’m starting to think the werewolf curse operates on entirely separate rules to whatever strange power it is that’s got me trapped as a little black kitten. From the way Jase and Nicky talk, any werewolf will just change into a canine under light of a full moon. Jase is apparently trying to overcome that curse with meditation, charms, and whatever experimental ‘inhibitor’ concoction Nick gave him the night prior. The wolf is always inside him though, so even if it’s not a full moon or not night at all, Jase could force a change if he wanted to.

His brother, Mike, could probably also change his teeth into full canines and bite my throat out even in broad daylight should ever I run into him, so I had best keep from wandering the streets all by my lonesome for now. I’ve got no urge to roam anyway. I do not want to be an alley cat. I do not want to be a cat at all!

But no matter what trick I try – envisioning the change, or closing my eyes and sinking deep into a state of kitty meditation – I cannot find my way back into being Cassandra. I even tried gnawing on a few of Jase’s crystals in the hopes I could consume their mystic energy somehow, but no dice. All that did was start Jase irritably taking the things away from me. Then I had to make the shameful slink over to the bathroom to empty my bursting bladder and avoid ruining his carpet. He seemed immensely amused that I knew how to use a toilette, but I was immensely incensed that he dared to watch me do that!

Maybe deep down I can’t stomach the thought of ever turning back into human Cassandra after all, because having Jason realize it is a real, adult woman he’s been stroking and watching all this time… I’m certain to die of embarrassment.

My landlord said he would be coming by my place this weekend to take away my keys. Fail to pay rent for three months in a row and you do essentially become just a squatter, so I guess I can’t really blame the man for threatening to call the cops on me and have me forcibly evicted. He’s probably already made that visit to escort me out into the streets, and with me not able to answer my phone, he’s probably selling off my possessions as we speak, clearing out the unit for a new, reliable tenant.

I’m just a squatter here in Jase’s loft too, when you think about it. But at least as an adorable kitten I appear to be a wanted freeloader. Maybe it won’t be so bad to keep living on as a house cat. Assuming Mike and his witch don’t succeed in capturing me and drastically shortening my life that is.

I’m glad Jase is allowing me to follow him around and not stay locked up, bored, in his apartment all day. My persistence is mostly to thank for this of course, as the second he grabbed his gym bag and pulled open the door this morning I shot out like a rocket between his legs. He seemed panicked by that at first, but calmed down when he saw me just sitting on the landing below, waiting for him. He tried to carry me back up to the apartment, and I flexed my claws in warning, giving a clear ‘Rowr’ of angry protest. He sighed and turned to continue on and carry me downstairs, and I rewarded him with a happy purr of approval. “Okay, you are too cute,” he caved. “So you can play in the basement for a while, but you gotta go back to the loft soon as Doctor Carson gets in, alright? You can’t go near the clinic. Too many predators.”

He seems to forget that I too am a predator. Technically. I’ve got some impressively sharp claws and viscous teeth. Maybe I can’t go toe to toe with werewolves, but still… I could box, sort of, back when I was human. I took an entire six months of kickboxing lessons and self-defense classes in fact, back when my student status made such things at all affordable. I could take a turn at this home gym punching bag to work out my frustrations. That is… if there’s anything left of it by the time Jase is done--

Holy shit!

Jase’s last punch goes straight through the material of the manically swinging bag and it breaks off its anchor and drops to the floor in a spray of leaking sand. “Damn.” He rips his hand free and scrambles around in his gym bag until he locates the duct tape. He pulls off a long strip to start patching the tear.

That sound brings back bad memories for me. Being grabbed from behind, thrown into a car with a stifling hand to my mouth and that tape being wound around my wrists. That creep, Michael, licking up my tears…

The door opens, and I tense toward the opening with tail fully fluffed. An intruder has emerged, a tall, shadowed stranger and obvious threat. I shoot behind Jase’s leg, and he too appears nervous, making his study of this man. “Doctor Carson. Hey. It’s the music, right? I’ll turn it down--”

The out of uniform vet holds up his hand, giving a patient smile. “The music is fine, Jason. It’s Sunday. There’s no clients to disturb.”

“Right. I know. I just…” He looks in shame to the ruined punching bag, leaking its steady line of sand. “I didn’t mean to go so hard.”

“Indeed.” Dr. Carson’s eyes lower to me, still prickling up behind Jase’s leg. “It seems you’ve frightened your new cat.”

“She’s okay. Right?” He scoops me up against his chest, and I rethink my earlier judgment of appreciating his sweat as glistening drops of sweet manly musk. Damp skin and cat hair do not at all mix, I will tell you. “I think it’s you that scared her actually. She doesn’t seem to like strangers. Doesn’t seem to like anyone but me actually.” He smiles.

“Strange, don’t you think? Your pheromones should be that of her natural enemy.”

Jason swallows, holding on to me all the tighter. “Not while I’m human,” he protests.

“You are never truly human, Jason.” Alright, I already hate this dude, with his creepy black fedora and his patronizing gaze. “Even when the wolf is not in control, you are an animal in spirit.” He looks pointedly to the decimated punching bag.

Jase swallows. “Real confidence boost there. Thanks.”

“I’m not saying you can’t overcome it, but to conquer it completely, we have to cure you. So come along. I need another blood sample.”

“Might want to let me shower first,” Jase laughs, though the sound seems forced today, his mood tense and melancholy. “Wouldn’t want to be stinking up your lab.”

“On the contrary. I’d like a sweat sample as well.” Okay, you creep. Is this really scientific research or are these samples for your personal collection? “Those pheromones I mentioned, useful factors for our tests. After all, I hear the inhibitor Nick gave you last night had next to no effect.”

Jase shrugs, setting me back down on the floor. “I felt a little sleepier at first. But that almost made it harder. If I pass out… We’ve seen it before. I’ll just wake up as the wolf, and who knows what I’ll do while I’m blacking out like that…” The admission clearly scares him, and I butt up against his leg in an attempt to comfort him again. That brings back his smile in an instant, a heartbreakingly somber little grin.

“At least you’re an omega,” Carson offers, instantly pissing me right the hell off again. “A true lone wolf. You can’t be called into following along with Michael and his pack the way your brothers always are. I think I’ve pinpointed why that is too. A hormone in your brain chemistry. It’s really quite interesting.”

“So we’re making progress?”

“More so with you than with my other patient.” Well who the hell is his other patient? Is there another werewolf locked up somewhere in this clinic? Was he too provided a cushy apartment, or is he an unwilling guest shackled to a wall somewhere in this cement floored basement? That’s a crazy thought though, because no way would Jase be okay with that. He wouldn’t be. Right?

“Come along now, Jason. I’ve a lot to get done today,” the doctor insists, and Jase strips off the bloodstained sports tape around his knuckles, nodding along complacently.

Dr. Carson stares fixedly at the completely smooth skin of Jase’s knuckles underneath that stained tape. No bruises or split skin, just dry and flaking bloodstains from wounds already healed. “I still haven’t pinpointed the healing factor in your blood, and I really must work harder at isolating it, because you certainly wouldn’t want to lose that blessing, now would you?”

“Couldn’t care less actually.” Jase shrugs. “I don’t need to be freaking Wolverine. So long as I’m not at risk of hurting people anymore.”

He starts toward the exit with the clear intent of leaving me behind in this underground gym. I sprint right after him and the doctor though, squeezing out between his legs with a clear look of rebuke before he can close the door. I need to see what sort of ‘tests’ this sketchy doctor is performing on my wolfman.

Jase clearly thinks my compulsive need to stick by his side is heart-meltingly cute, and Carson clearly thinks it puzzling. “A strange cat indeed, drawn to her predator. She can’t come into the kennels, you know. The true wolves will not be nearly as fond of her as you seem to be.”

Jase shrugs, scooping me up once again. “We’re going straight to the labs. We’re not staying by the cages. Besides, she’s good for my temper. Kind of like an emotional support kitty.” He grins. “I like having her near.”

My heart does a back-flip, and I want to confess how much I love being there for him and having him near. My only way of expressing that of course is another, loud “Prrrr.”

“A clear mistake and a possible contaminant to my samples,” Carson enforces bitterly. “But suit yourself.”

I hate this man. I hate the way he talks, and his unsettling, bloodshot eyes, and the mild, unnerving tremors I catch sight of in his hand, before he shoves them back into his pockets. It’s as if he’s just itching to strangle me and has to forcible restrain himself from doing so. Hardly a warm and caring animal lover like Jase, and hardly the kind of man you would want as your pet’s veterinarian.

They head up into the vet clinic, and Jase sets me down in a chair at the side of a private consultation room. Carson irritably lint rolls the cat hair off of Jase’s clothing, then proceeds to collect some sweat, mouth swabs, and a blood sample. He puts them through a series of test tubes, and explains to his patient nothing of what he’s doing. When Jase asks him questions directly, he responds distractedly and briefly with some medical-sounding gobbledygook that makes not one lick of sense to the likes of college drop out Cassi’s brain. Jase seems to follow it though, and gives some grim looking nods.

The doc promises him a new inhibitor by tonight. “Though the last glow of full moon was yesterday, so we will not fully be able to test its effectiveness.”

“I appreciate it anyway,” Jase offers, scooping me up against his shoulder. I keep my eyes fixed right on Doctor Carson as we head out the door. I can see through the glass window that the second Jase leaves the room, the doctor takes his blood sample, mixes it with some capsule of powder pulled from a locked cabinet and downs the entire thing like a shot.

What the hell is he, a vampire? What’s he doing drinking werewolf blood? My view is cut off a second later, as we round a corner and start back up the stairs, and I can think of no way to get Jase to turn around and witness this strange spectacle, or to warn him that his trusted doctor and employer, the man promising to cure him of his lycanthropy is most definitely up to something.

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