Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 51

Thinking back, she takes a calming breath and brushes her hands down her pants. He exhales deeply, and she does the same, almost as if they are in sync. 

"The blond male looks afraid."

"Would you call that afraid? Or withdrawn? Have you seen true fear?"

She purses her lips. "I suppose I'd ask him."

"But then he'd know you were on to him, which could make him worse." 

She moves to look at him; he stiffens, which causes her to pause. "They don't need to know we are speaking. Eyes ahead, and don't stare at anyone."

Turning her head, she decides to watch her mother instead, her pulse visibly hammering in her neck. "I'd rather him voice it to me than keep it to himself."

He frowns, straightening, almost disappointed. "Fear is assured. There is no escaping fear, no matter how much you talk about it; it will get worse the more you entertain it. A soldier must learn it's okay to be afraid, to think around it."

I jump when I see Tonic's hands land on Verando's shoulders, though it doesn't seem to surprise the gray-haired man. 

"I remember that talk. Passing on the pearls of wisdom, eh?" He laughs, and I can't help but roll my own eyes. 

Sliding in on the teaching of his niece was low, even for Tonic. She needed this valuable time, and it was as if he couldn't stand any sort of progress. 

Verando pulls his lips into a thin line, "Something like that. Sit down, Tonic." 

As he leaves, he allows a slight side glance towards the slender girl whose gaze has fallen into her lap. 

"Did you hear him coming?" 

The tiniest smile curls onto her lips, and she nods one time. 

"Good girl." So much value had been given to me in moments such as this, where the tone was so low you must strain to listen, and yet you hang on to every word. The experience was the greatest wealth he possessed, and he would share it freely if one were worthy of his time; it was nice to see Helen gaining that attention, for I couldn't help but feel she had lacked much of any since her youth. 

The door closes, and Marcello stands up from the head of the table. 

"It is with great sadness that I inform those of you who are now 'infected' with the lycan gene that your condition will be permanent. While it is different from the originals, it is very much the same species. It would appear as if you are simply a different breed, and there is a need for much testing, which is why we have brought you to this location. 

Here, you will be safe, for now, while we figure out how we will control the spread." 

Verando's jaw tightens, and I place my hand over his. This kind of propaganda was what convinced the nations to enslave the lycan race, what led to large-scale hunting, and, at its worst, what led to the mass extinction of a species that was much more docile than the werewolf it originated from. 

The room erupts into murmurs, partial panic, and disorder as the eleven fledgling lycans try to deal with their new emotions mixed with the knowledge that we couldn't fix them. 

"How did this happen?" Johnathan demands. 

Marcello's gaze locked on my warlord, and I could see that there was some blame. 

"We don't know. We are certain of a few things; one is that our government is greedy. When it got a hold of Verando and Marisol, it was very possible that their taste of wolf was unsatisfied, so they could be behind this outbreak. It seems only to be happening here."