CHAPTER EIGHT

Ross

It was late when Ross left the clinic. He crossed the deserted loading bay and out through the pedestrian gate set into the high wall. He gave the gate his customary tug to check it had locked securely behind him. The late summer air was filled with the smell of the river and the woody scent of the nearby parkland. The urge to give in to his body's demands grew, almost overwhelming him. How long had it been? Too long.

'Soon,' he promised. 'But not now.' Now he had something else he must do.

Only after the clinic was well behind him did he hail a taxi.

'Russell Industrial Estate,' he told the driver.

With a resigned sigh, the driver maneuvered the taxi back into the flow of traffic.

Grace was beginning to lose it, he could see that. But if he carried that back to the CSC he knew what their response would be. He had bought her some time. But it was running out. He understood she couldn't be allowed to aid the clinic too far. She had to be prevented from giving them the final piece of the puzzle. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to do this. Not this time.

The taxi pulled up at the edge of a rundown industrial estate.

'Sorry mate, this is as far as I go,' the driver said over his shoulder.

Ross nodded and handed him the fare. It could be worse, some drivers refused to pick him up at all when they knew his destination. There were too many rumors about Russell Industrial Estate to make it a place people wanted to visit. That suited Ross and the others just fine. He passed through the rusted remnants of the estate gates and headed to the derelict warehouses. Russell Industrial Estate was on a bulbous globule of land which seemed to have oozed out into the river. Rusted jetties, their wooden walkways mostly rotted and treacherous, pushed out into the flow of water like spines on a porcupine. The stench of rotting rubbish and stale river water wafted toward him as he wound his way deeper into the estate. Shattered windows glared down on him like empty eye sockets and glass crunched beneath his feet. A fox darted out from one of the empty buildings. It froze, staring at him before returning to cover. Ross smiled.

The building he was heading to overlooked the river. The lights from the city across the water winked off its rippling surface and were reflected in the few remaining bits of glass still in their frames. He pushed open the twisted door which moved surprisingly well considering its condition. Inside he walked unerringly to the rusted metal staircase down to the lower levels where water collected into small pools on the concrete floor. The deep dark did not prevent Ross from seeing the outline of the reinforced metal door ahead of him. He pressed the palm of his hand to a metal plate recessed into the wall next to the door. Instantly a beam of blue light scanned his face then winked out. Ross muttered his customary curse at the momentary loss of his night vision. There was a muffled clunk and by the time the door opened at the soft pressure of his hand his vision had corrected itself. It was still deep dark at this side of the door but the corridor was free of threat and Ross stepped inside. He waited until he heard the click of the door locking behind him and the lights set into the walls, began to glow softly. The marble walls and floors blushed warmly in the glow of the lights. The smell of damp and rot was gone replaced with the metallic tang of filtered air. Dark wooden doors were spaced at regular intervals along the length of the corridor but the only one Ross could discern any human life behind was the door at the very end. He knocked. The door opened.

'Ross, good to see you,' said a small stocky man in a tight-fitting suit.

'Bill,' Ross acknowledged, holding out his hand. 'How you doing?'

Bill took his hand and shook it warmly. 'Just leaving, things to do.'

'Nice outfit,' Ross said nodding at the crumpled, overstretched grey suit.'

Bill grinned. 'How dare you, one of my best this.' He slapped Ross on the arm. 'Good luck,' he mouthed as he closed the door leaving Ross in the cool, clinically bright room.

Ross turned back to face the large redwood conference table and the six pairs of eyes that were watching him. He quickly scanned their owners, picking out the possible allies from those unlikely to support his proposal. What he saw eased the tension a little. A grey-haired man dressed in an immaculate navy suit waved Ross to an empty seat with an impatient gesture, gold cuff-links glinting in the sharp light.

'Chairman, Dorling,' Ross acknowledge as he pulled out the offered chair and sat down.

'You are finally ready to update the community I hope?' Dorling said with a bite of impatience.

'I felt it would be wasting the committee's time to come any sooner,' Ross held the older man's eyes.

'And now?'

Ross' eyes flicked to the speaker. A young man with wild black hair and permanent smile lines etched into his angular features grinned at him.

'David,' he said letting the pleasure slip into his voice. 'Good to see you.'

'And you,' David smiled briefly. 'What have you got for us.'

Ross looked around the other five members of the Committee for the Supernatural Community. Geoff Dorling, the Chairman, grey brows knitted together, mouth turned down at the corners. John Richardson, pale penetrating eyes, showing not a hint of his thoughts, motionless, waiting. Marcy Nix, dangling earrings, long braided hair, warm brown eyes. Olivia Defoe, brown skin and black hair gleaming in the harsh light, watchful, suspicious. And Jacob Bailey, cheap suit, long shaggy hair, lounging in his chair looking totally out of place yet perfectly at ease. Two, possibly three, voices he could count on to be unbiased. Maybe.

'Well?' snapped Chairman Dorling. 'What's happening with the girl?'

'First, it must be taken into account that she is basing all her decisions on the misinformation fed to her by the clinic, which, you may remember is due to a previous ruling by this committee. As a result of that ruling whatever the clinic chooses to tell her is the only information she has.'

'And?'

'Based on that information, she believes she is aiding the clinic and helping the unfortunates being held there.'

'The unfortunates?' John Richardson asked, pale eyes cold and hard. 'Let us not forget they are there by choice.'

Ross felt the growl deep in his chest and smothered it before it could take voice. 'And let us not forget there are others there who have no say in the matter at all. Some of whom are from the heart of this community.' Only the slightest trace of the growl could be heard in his words but evidently, Richardson heard it and he became more still than ever. Then he gave a short quick nod of assent.

'So, the girl is still cooperating willingly,' Dorling said.

'As I say, based on the information she has that is the choice she has made. So far.'

'Still, it means she is a willing participant in the perfecting of this abomination.' Olivia said.

'Not entirely. As I mentioned at our last meeting, the Blyth's have threatened people she cares about. Until then she was determined to leave. And you should remember she has no idea of the true purpose of the clinic.'

'I thought she had no family,' David said.

'Her mother lives but they are not in contact,' Ross said. 'It's the elderly couple she works for that are being threatened. She's unlikely to leave while there's any threat to them.'

'Then the solution's clear,' Dorling said.

Several people around the table nodded.

'Not to me,' Ross said.

'Why so squeamish, Ross. It's never bothered you before,' Richardson said.

'She didn't choose to be there. She was snatched for god's sake,' Ross took a breath lowering his voice. 'She hasn't got a clue what is really going on and is only cooperating because of the threat to the old couple.'

'Regardless, she cannot be allowed to continue helping them. From all your previous reports they are very near completing the serum and she could be the one to help them do it. It cannot be allowed to happen I tell you,' Dorling snapped.

'There is another way,' Ross said.

'Yes, so you mentioned at our last meeting. It's no more of an option now than it was then,' Dorling said.

'Remind us,' Jacob asked.

'We get her out before they complete the serum.'

'And let the old people die?' Marcy asked eyes wide in surprise.

'The family are willing to watch the elderly people until this gets straightened out.'

'And what will you do with her?' David asked. 'She could never go back to her old life and she won't be allowed to learn any more about us than she already does. It seems to me your family will be on guard duty for a very long time.'

'It's a risk we're willing to take.'

'You could be exchanging one imprisonment for another, Ross, have you thought of that?' David said.

'Maybe. But it will be one where she will not be in fear of either going mad or having her brain put under a microscope. Or both. We can take it from there.'

'No,' Dorling snapped. 'Your position at the clinic is too important to risk over this girl. We need you there. We need to know what is going on and only you have succeeded in getting close to them. Getting her out will jeopardize everything.'

'We already know their plans and how close they are to fulfilling them.'

'But we still don't have either research notes or samples,' Dorling's manner made it clear he thought Ross to blame for the failure. 'We need one or the other, preferably both. You will stay there until that is achieved.'

'There will be very little risk to my position at the clinic if this is done right. Once out she can stay on the outskirts of the community with limited contact with its members. The obvious advantage of that is it will give us the opportunity to be involved in her taking control of her abilities.'

'She has managed well enough until now without help,' Richardson said.

'As even you must know, John, that will not be the case for much longer,' Ross said barely keeping his anger in check. 'There is also the real risk that her abilities have already been altered beyond return.'

'Then let them kill her. They are going to do it anyway.'

'Yes, but not until they get what they need,' Marcy reminded him.

'They are taking a lot of trouble to get her to cooperate with them,' Ross said. 'For whatever reason, it seems important to them that she does. It works in our favor as while she cooperates she has a limited amount of freedom and privileges. It makes this the ideal time to get her out before she loses those privileges by rebelling or losing control of her powers. Once that happens she will go down into the cells.'

'So we have two alternatives,' Olivia Defoe said. She spread long slender fingers on the table and leaned forward. The shining length of her hair slid over her shoulder hiding half her dark face. 'Kill her now before she does any more damage. Or get her out. Soon.'

'Out to where?' Dorling asked. 'What would we do with her? Talk sense, Olivia, you're not actually taking this suggestion seriously, are you? The clinic will be hunting her for as long as they feel they can use her. They won't let her go easily. It will put us all in danger.'

Olivia's dark eyes flashed and she sat back in her chair curling her hands into fists.

'Dorling's right, the clinic won't let her go easily. They will actively search for her if she is that important to them,' John Richardson nodded scrubbing at his beard. 'Wherever you put her it would have to be very secure.'

'Are you thinking of the family, Ross?' Jacob asked.

Ross hesitated. 'It wouldn't be suitable. But there are other alternatives...'

'No,' Dorling said again. 'Enough. Leave us. We will inform you of our decision in due course.'

Ross got up. He had had more than enough of the committee for one day. And, thanks to the members present, he had had more input than usual. He shot a quick glance at Jacob whose almost imperceptible smile and nod told Ross he had understood and accepted the invitation. Then he left the room.

Ross slid silently into the shadows near the entrance of the underground headquarters. Keeping out of sight he watched as the committee members left one by one. As arranged Marcy left last. Ross joined her. Their conversation was brief. Nodding her satisfaction Marcy left him and hurried to catch up to the others.

By the time Ross reached the rendezvous point, his body would no longer be denied. He dropped to his hands and knees on the soft earth. The nearby river was loud in his ears. The smell of the trees and water filled his nose and he breathed it in hungrily. As a shaggy brown wolf moved silently out of the shadows Ross' muscles tensed and the bitter-sweet pain of change gripped him. Jacob stood guard over his Alpha and waited patiently for the change to be complete.