Free Black Rook by Kelly Meade Page B

as a Black Wolf, and the ability to achieve actual intoxication would have made that control impossible. He’d have never survived college, never reached his dream of playing in a locally recognized band—never been so close to stardom that he could actually see it in his head, laid out for him like a fantasy come true.
    He’d have never had to humiliate himself and let his band down—giving it all up to keep the secret of his loup garou heritage.
    Brynn’s anxiety compounded with each silent minute that ticked by, marked by the antique Coke clock on the wall. She didn’t understand why Rook had put those doubts into her head. Doubts about the toxin and its likelihood of affecting not just loup, but her as well. Why would her father have designed a ring that distributed the toxin in such a way if it wasn’t safe for Magi? Rook’s concerns were illogical, and yet his sincerity made her doubt herself.
    By the time Knight returned with the doctor, Brynn was ready to climb the walls. She twisted around in her chair to observe the oldest man she’d ever seen in her life walk into the office. He was completely bald, with layer after layer of wrinkled, leathery skin that nearly hid his actual facial features. Sharp eyes peeked out through the folds and from beneath two bushy white eyebrows. He was thick, without being overweight, and his ancient body still hummed with the power of his loup garou blood.
    “Hello, young one,” he said. “Dr. Michael Abraham, but everyone ’round these parts calls me Dr. Mike.”
    Brynn stood and forced herself to shake his outstretched hand, not surprised by the strength of his grip. “Brynn Atwood. A pleasure, Dr. Mike.”
    He held her hand a bit longer than necessary, and the way his nostrils flared betrayed the fact that he was smelling her—something she’d come to expect from the residents of Cornerstone. They probably didn’t get a chance to sniff a Magus very often. Dr. Mike released her hand, then moved to stand in front of Rook.
    “All right, son, present yourself,” Dr. Mike said.
    Rook stood up slowly, using the arm of the chair for support. “Knight fill you in?”
    “That he did, yes. And if it was ketamine in the syringe, then the logic is sound.”
    “It was,” Brynn said. Her annoyance level rose at the constant questioning of the syringe. She had been nothing but honest and cooperative for the last hour.
    “We’ll see. Knight?”
    Knight placed an old-fashioned black doctor’s bag onto the desk, and Dr. Mike snapped it open. Brynn took the opportunity to approach the window and watch the auction for a while, keeping half of her attention on the things being said behind her. The sale seemed to be winding down, the crowd thinning out and dividing up, and she was sorry to have missed so much of her first auction. She’d like to know more about how Rook’s family business was run. History and its artifacts fascinated her—it was one of the reasons she’d become a teacher.
    “I’ll have to do some blood work to be certain,” Dr. Mike said, “but you seem to be just fine. The ketamine will be out of your system soon, and barring any unknown side effects of the poison, you should be in top form again by tomorrow.”
    “Good, thank you,” Rook said.
    “Your turn, young miss.”
    Brynn turned—too fast, she suspected, because the room tilted. She grabbed the window ledge with her left hand, and pressed the palm of her right to her forehead. A warm body appeared by her side in an instant.
    “Brynn?” Rook said. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, fine.” She blinked hard, surprised by the dark spots floating in her vision. “I just got dizzy for a moment. I moved too quickly.”
    “Okay. Come sit down.” He slipped an arm around her waist, and Brynn didn’t push him away. She clung to his warmth, and the strength of the muscles that shifted beneath his t-shirt. Her skin didn’t crawl from contact with a loup. It tingled in a pleasant way. This close,