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  “As good as can be expected.” I turned my eyes on Rex. “I just came to get the location of that cage.”

  “Sit.” He gestured to the bed, pulling up a chair and straddling it between his legs as if he was actually interested in my company. “It's so rare that I get visitors.”

  Despite my disgust, I sat on the bed.

  “You know that Emmett isn't the real alpha, don't you?” Rex said.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I shook my head at him.

  “Just trying to make conversation is all.” He looked genuinely offended.

  “You raped me, and you expect that I'm just going to want to sit here and talk like nothing happened?” I furrowed my brow at Rex.

  “Hey!” He pointed his finger at me, and I instinctively flinched away. Knowing he had scared me, his voice softened. “I . . . I'm sorry, alright. Like I told you before, if there had been any other way, I would have done it.”

  “There were other ways, Rex. You could have cut me and cut yourself and put our blood together.” I stuttered, trying to think of more possibilities. “You could have bitten me or . . . or I don't know.”

  “I was trying to make it as less traumatizing for you as possible. Plus, there couldn't be any evidence.”

  “Less traumatizing?” I couldn't believe he had dared to say that.

  “Listen, I said I'm sorry. I can't take it back. All I can do now is help you. Now do you want my help or not?”

  It took everything in me to steady my nerves. Already, my hands were shaking, something that only happened when I was at the peak of my anger. “Just give me the fucking address.”

  “Whoa. Calm down, little lady.” Rex threw his hands up in surrender. “No need to get hostile. I bet you don't act like this around the other werewolves.”

  “The other werewolves didn't rape me.”

  He cringed. “You know, I'm going to regret that for the rest of my life”

  “—Well you're not the only one,” I cut him off.

  “Can we just start over?”

  “I'm afraid that's not how this works.”

  “Then how does it work, Taya?”

  “I just came here for the address.”

  “Don't you want to at least interview me?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Well, don't you think it will look a bit weird if you keep returning empty handed?”

  “This is the last time that I plan to return.”

  “I'd think that you would like at least one of the stories from a lone wolf for your report. I know that Chris and Bart didn't open their doors to you.”

  I sighed in exasperation. In honesty, Rex was right. It would help to paint a better picture of life on the reservation as a whole if I had an interview from one of the lone wolves. And while he wasn't my top choice at that moment, he was the only one willing to give me an interview.

  “I don't understand why you want me to interview you when none of the others do,” I said.

  “I don't want you to interview me, but it's the least that I can do after . . . well, you know.”

  As much as I wanted to tell Rex that giving me the location of the cage would be enough, I did need the interview.

  “Alright,” I agreed finally, flipping my notebook to a blank page in an exaggerated gesture and writing his name on the top. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “How long have you lived on the reservation?”

  He thought for a moment. “About five years.”

  “How did you contract the lycanthropy disease?”

  “My brother gave it to me.”

  This caught me by surprise, though my interest was just barely peaked. I heard plenty of stories about lovers and strangers, but never about the disease being passed on by a family member of the same sex.

  “Elaborate,” I said, trying to seem disinterested.

  Rex looked down, recalling the memory. “My brother Rafael and I were always close. Hell, he's the one who raised me. My father was an alcoholic . . . beat us all the time. My mother was none the better. Hell, we were never happier when the old man shot himself one night and left us the hell alone. Mom was always out whoring around, so it was just Rafael and me.

  “We grew up rough. Mostly him. He tried to shelter me from a lot of stuff, but I still caught the run offs. Fights. Bullying. He was one mean son of a bitch, but he cared for me, made sure I was fed. Mom sure as hell didn't give a shit about that. If it was up to her, we both would have died.

  “Anyway, we were living together out at my place . . . the one I was telling you about. He'd stay gone for a few days at a time, so I'm not really sure if saying that he lived there was that accurate. He just kinda came and went as he pleased. Used it as a home base, I suppose.

  “I lived completely off the land. Have always hated civilization and other people. People are stupid. Do stupid things. Say stupid things. You're better off not caring about them most of the time. They always let you down.

  I could see pain behind his eyes, and for the first time since he had given me the disease, my heart softened for Rex.

  He continued, “It was late one night. I had just got back from a hunt. I was skinning a deer up by the back of the house, and I seen this wolf come out of the bushes, biggest fuckin' thing I'd ever seen.” His eyes widened at the memory. “All I had was my skinning knife. I tried to go for the gun, but the damn thing was on me before I could get to it. If Rafael was vicious as a man, he was about ten times worse as a wolf.” Rex smirked. “I stabbed that motherfucker in the shoulder, trying to hold him off of me while those fucking teeth snapped like they were going to take my head off. Then I seen his eyes, blue, soft, full of remorse for his actions. I knew right then it was my brother, and that he couldn't control himself.

  “We rolled and battled for a while. He never bit me but I got scratched all to shit. I'm sure you know that a scratch is just as bad as a bite. I'm not quite sure how that works. I still think werewolves come from Native American magic. Fuck all of them scientists. That's why they can't find the cure. They're not searching in the right place.”

  “Where should they be searching?” I asked, my eyes fixed on him in fascination.

  “Can I finish my story, please?” He gave me a look of annoyance, and I cowered.

  “Yes, please continue.”

  “Thank you. Now, as I was about to say, I fought Rafael off until the moon hid behind the clouds. He transformed back into a human, and I was stupid enough to come after him, worried about his shoulder wound. As soon as the moon came out again though, we were fighting like before.

  “I could have just said fuck it. Ran inside the house and let him spend the night alone, doing whatever it is we do when we're like that, but he was my brother and all I had left. I was scared of him getting shot or captured, so I kept him occupied all night.

  “In the morning, when he shifted back, we stitched up each other's wounds. God damn were we both a bloody mess. Me mainly. I got plenty of battle scars from it. That's for damn sure.”

  Rex was right. I hadn't noticed it before, but his tan arms were marred with multiple white scars. It looked like they had healed well over time, but there were sure a lot of them.

  He continued. “The son of a bitch was mad at me for fighting him off so long, letting him give me the disease. But hell, when you've only got one person in this world, you're going to fight for them, aren't you? Damn the consequences. We were in for life together, man, werewolf, monster; I didn't care. Hell, I still don't. Don't regret what I did.

  “I told him that we needed to build a cage to contain ourselves during the shift. He said it was bullshit, that wolves need to roam. He liked being a werewolf, said he was always meant to be one. Maybe I was too. He loved the idea of stalking through the night, killing prey all primal, running through the forest, and even waking up butt naked,” Rex chuckled.

  “I knew it was too dangerous to do all that shit though. Hell, we lived out in the
woods, but wolves can easily cover fifty miles a day, and there were other people living in a fifty-mile radius of us. I couldn't stand the thought of us hurting or killing some kids or something. So, despite all of his bitching, I began constructing the cage, hoping that he'd change his mind once my first shift came around.

  “Turns out he didn't. I begged him to get in the cage with me, but he refused, ripping off all of his clothes, whooping and howling like a wild animal even before the shift. He ran out into the forest, and I chose to stay and lock myself in, even though I secretly wanted to follow him. Hell, I looked up to my brother, and even though he wasn't the greatest guy in the world, I had always wanted to be just like him. I ain't never loved no one in the world but him.

  “The moon came, and I shifted. You don't remember much about it. Every once in a while, when the moon goes behind the clouds, you'll feel a tremor of consciousness when you slip back to. But as soon as that moon comes out again, you're gone, just like that.” Rex snapped his fingers, startling me for a moment. I had been listening to him so intently.

  He continued, “The next morning, I woke up naked and banged up as hell. I guess the wolf in me really wanted out of that damn cage. It was bent in places, but it held, and that was all that mattered.

  “I guess I should have been happy it did, because Rafael never came home. He wandered off onto one of the neighbors' farms and got himself shot. Luckily, it was on the news before the authorities had a chance to get to our house. Whenever the body of a werewolf is discovered, they question all the person's family members. On some occasions, they'll even detain the entire family.

  “I was smart. Took off for the woods. The cops came, even sent hounds after me. Stupid mutts. I don't care what they say about a dog's intelligence. A man is always smarter. I outfoxed them.

  “Not dumb enough to stick around, I left and headed up to Montana. Bought some more supplies and built another cage out in the woods on some guy's property. He had more acres than he needed, and I don't need much to survive, so I was able to live fine for a while.

  “I wanted to come back though. Gave it a year. Then I went back to our old house. It was still there. I would have been pissed if they would have taken it from us. Hell, I might have thought to turn into a wolf and rip up the whole town.

  “I used some left-over supplies I had to reinforce the cage. I was able to stay and shift there for two more years. Then one day, I went in town to buy something, and I suspect some fucking asshole reported me to the authorities. I wasn't causing no trouble or nothing.

  “The cops came full force that time. Must have been six cars outside my place. Dogs. SWAT. The whole fucking nine yards. I ain't never seen so many cops go after one man in all my life.

  “I wanted to run, but I knew I wouldn't get far with the dogs, and I'm not one to shoot no dogs. They're not assholes by nature. They're just trained to be that way.

  “I went to get my gun. Was gonna off myself. Hell, I had nothing to live for no more anyway. Brother gone. Just living day by day. There's nothing special about that.

  “By the time I got to the gun, they were throwing tear gas through the window. I put it to my head and pulled the trigger, but the fucking thing wasn't loaded. Rafael must have thought I would try to off myself and took the fucking bullets out of the gun. That was our 'in case of an emergency' gun. We always kept it loaded but never really looked at it. Never really had a need to. We'd been in bad trouble before, but never that bad.

  “Anyway, the cops got me, brought me here, and now here we are.” Rex's eyes flashed around the room for a moment.

  “Wow,” I said, staring at him with my pen pressed to the paper, my hand unmoving. “Just wow. That's pretty intense.”

  He shrugged. “You wanted the story. I gave it to you. Now, I suspect you'd like that address.”

  “Yes, please.” I shook away reeling thoughts of his story as I jotted down the address and directions to where the cage could be found. Rex also informed me of where I could find a key to get into the house and how to secure the cage to make sure that I couldn't get out during my shift.

  “The house is yours until you can find a cure,” he told me. “And if a cure is never found, then consider it a gift from me. I want you to be safe.”

  “Why?” I looked up at him for a moment. “Oh wait, you don't want me to get caught. I remember.”

  “Not just that,” Rex paused. “We're dangerous, Taya. There's no pussy footing around it. While I don't think that the reservation . . . I mean, this fucking prison, is the right way to go about containing the problem, it does need to be contained. Innocent people get hurt when we're not. Lord knows I don't want this curse passed on to anyone else.”

  “But you passed it on to me.” I felt my fascination with him waning.

  “Because you're the only one who can help. And I wanted to give you some true motivation to help. Tell the paper my story. Tell them my thoughts on other solutions to this problem, not just scientific ones. Explore Native American legends, talk about setting up every infected person's home with a security cage. Hell, we're only werewolves a couple of hours out of the month. The rest of the time, we're just everyday ordinary people. It don't make sense to keep people imprisoned like this. There are better solutions out there, even if there isn't a cure. Hell, appeal to the government budget. Talk about how much money they'd save if they could close down the reservation and just issue us cages instead.”

  “But what if the werewolves don't use those cages?” I questioned.

  “Then let them get shot and killed like my brother did. It was his own fucking stupidity,” he sounded bitter.

  We fell silent for a moment, both lost in thought. Rex definitely had some good ideas, ideas worth mentioning in my report.

  “If you hate people so much, then why do you want to help them?” I asked curiously.

  He shrugged. “It just seems like the right thing to do.”

  I couldn't help but feel there was more of a reason than that. After all, he had already done the wrong thing by giving me the virus. The right thing didn't seem like a very big motivator for Rex. Either way, I decided to drop it and finish up with the interview.

  “So, you've been a werewolf since you were,” I paused, thinking back, “twenty-one?”

  “That's about right.”

  “You mentioned that you thought being a werewolf could have come from Native American folklore. Is there a specific story you want me to investigate?”

  “Not particularly. Wolves are rampant in Native American culture. You're a reporter. Do some research.”

  I scowled at his harshness before continuing. “How did you feel about the detainment process?”

  “It didn't bother me. Unlike these other people, I'm used to being alone. Hell, I got better medical care in here than I ever did out there.”

  “How did the other werewolves treat you when you were introduced to the reservation?”

  “Same way they treated you, I suppose. But I wasn't having none of the friendly buddy buddy with the alphas and betas bullshit. These people ain't my friends, and they ain't yours neither. You'd do good to remember that. You better hope they don't catch you. Hell, if they do, you might be better off trying to stay in solitary. You think I was bad,” he huffed.

  “What are you talking about?” I quirked an eyebrow at Rex.

  “That jackass Emmett. You think what I did was rape. That was love-making compared to what he'll do to you. He initiates all the females into the pack in his own special way.” His eyes flashed for emphasis.

  My heart dropped to my knees, leaving a hollow pit where it should have been. There were many reasons that I didn't like Emmett, but if what Rex said was true, then my disliking of him had just turned to hate. How could he get away with something like that inside of the reservation?

  “Does the compound know?” I asked.

  “They know, but they don't care. They'll let him do whatever he wants as long as he doesn't try to escape or doesn't try t
o help any of the other werewolves escape.”

  “That's horrible.”

  “And that's why you don't want to get put back in here.”

  Even the thought of Emmett's hands upon me made my skin crawl. While being taken against my will hadn't been a pleasant experience, at least I was physically attracted to Rex. Emmett was just . . . ugh.

  I tried to shake away the thought, telling myself that I wouldn't be caught. There was no reason for the compound to suspect that I had contacted the lycanthropy disease, so there was nothing for me to worry about. Besides, even if I did end up back in the reservation, I was sure that Chris would protect me from Emmett. Wouldn't he?

  It wasn't worth thinking about now. I just needed to wrap up my interview and get back to town.

  “You broke away from the pack to come live out here by yourself. Did that cause any problems?” I asked. “Oh, and who was the first person to become a lone wolf?”

  “I was. At first, the compound kept bringing me back in. They threatened me with solitary confinement, even put me in it a few times. It didn't break me or deter me in any way. I just kept coming back out to the forest. I mean hell, they gave us one thousand acres but only expect us to use one hundred of it. That's some bullshit. Naw, there's no reason why we should all have to live in such close proximity and deal with each other's bullshit.

  “Eventually, they gave up trying to bring me back. I guess they just got tired of it. They didn't give me no resources though. Most of the stuff around here, I made on my own. I'm a survivalist. I can live off the land easily on my own. Never no need for any of that other shit. I grow my own food and kill what I can't grow.”

  “—And this house?” I cut him off for a moment. “This wasn't built from the forest. I saw Chris Ross's and Bartholomew Ryan's houses. Those were log cabins. This one was built with lumber.”

  “I'll admit to that.” Rex said with no shame in his eyes. “I found this when I was tracking a deer. Thought it would be a good start. Looked to be an old hunting cabin. That's plenty big enough for me.”

  “It looks like you've done well enough for yourself out here.”

  “I think I have. You know what they say about life giving you lemons.”