Free The Forever Drug by Lisa Smedman Page B

that night, and had used my teeth to even the score; I could still remember the satisfying sounds of their screams as I sank my fangs into their wrists and ankles. It was all I could do to rein in my instincts and not finish the friggers, then and there.
    When the last of them had limped away, cursing and bloody, I'd shifted back into human form to help Music Man to his feet. And I'd given him a word of advice: if he ever needed my assistance again, he should use his synths to call for help in a high-pitched tone that only my wolf ears could hear. That was when he demonstrated his whistle at close range, much to my regret.
    Now I was about to call upon his help.
    As the escalator deposited Jane and the elf on the maglev platform, I waved at Music Man behind their backs. Then I put two fingers to my lips and mimed a whistle, punching my fist into my stomach at the same time.
    Music Man was no fool. He caught the reference at once. The melody he was playing abruptly stopped. He jammed a finger into his navel.
    I plugged my ears just in time. A high-pitched, ear-splitting whistle screamed out of Music Man's subdermal speakers. If you had the ears for it, you could hear it a kilometer away.
    The humans and metas in the train station were oblivious to the sound. But the elf heard it all right. His cybernetic ear—a frequency extender—was pumping to the sound straight into his brain. He doubled over, clutching a hand to the left side of his head.
    In that instant, I moved. Scooping Jane into my arms—and gritting my teeth against the whistle, which lanced painfully into my ears the instant I unplugged them—I leaped onto the smooth metal surface that separated the two escalators. We tobogganed down it in a crazy rush. I landed on my hoop at the bottom with enough force to earn me a lingering bruise, had I not been a shifter. Then I scrambled to my feet, still holding Jane in my arms.
    She'd been too surprised by my sudden action to react. But the elf above wasn't. Even over Music Man's whistle I heard the sharp crack of a bullet as it glanced off the floor beside my foot: the spot where my hoop had rested a second ago. The elf might know Jane well enough to use her real name, but he certainly didn't seem to value her life. Not if he was shooting at us. Either that, or he was a frigging good shot, certain enough of his aim that he knew he wouldn't hit her. Only my speed had thrown him off.
    People were screaming now. A few were even clambering over the gap between the two escalators, seeking the relative safety of having a wall of metal between themselves and the gunman. And that was lucky for me: it prevented the elf from sliding to the bottom as I had.
    I ran through the terminal, zigzagging my way around the passengers who thronged the station, occasionally having to hurdle over luggage when it blocked the only clear path. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Via Rail security guards running toward me. But they were still some distance away, separated from me by thick crowds. My immediate concern was that Jane would try to squirm out of my arms. So I spoke to her as I ran, stretching the truth just a little.
    "Jane, it's me, Romulus. I'm a friend; you were staying in my garage. You can't trust the elf. He was going to drug you and force you to go with him. Did you see what he did to Haley—the German shepherd? The elf was going to do that to you."
    Understanding blossomed in Jane's eyes. "Galdenistal told me the dog was sleeping."
    "Is that the elf's name? Where was he taking you?" I asked.
    "I don't know."
    Drek. We were back to that again.
    I'd run through most of the station and was approaching the exit on the east side. The doors were just ahead. They opened onto a series of piers, which were jammed with containers and loading equipment. It was a perfect maze to lose pursuers in. And if I didn't lose the elf, I could always duck behind a container, change into wolf form, and then throw myself at his throat. No doubt about