Page 48 of Anders
TWO MORE DAYS HADpassed since Etta and Anders had discovered the equipment in the newspaper office.
Two days of hiding in the safe house.Of Etta attempting to shift, of fighting against whatever chemical suppression still lingered in her system.
Two days of incremental progress that had culminated in last night’s breakthrough—a purposeful partial shift where her hands had morphed into something not quite human, her nails elongating into claws, her eyes blazing gold in the darkness.
Anders had been elated.Etta had been terrified.
You did it,he’d said, his voice filled with pride as they stood in the clearing behind the house under the waxing moon.That’s a major step.
She’d stared at her hands—her paws?—in horror and fascination as fur had sprouted along her forearms before receding again.The sensation had been like nothing she could describe—muscles and bones rearranging themselves, her very DNA seeming to rewrite itself before snapping back to human form.
But at least it hadn’t hurt—not the way it had before, when the shift had been forced on her.
Now, in the harsh morning light, she traced her fingers over her normal-looking human hands.Had it really happened?
Or am I finally losing my mind completely?
A sharp pain lanced through her temples, and Etta gripped the edge of the sink as a memory surfaced—vivid and overwhelming.
White walls.Antiseptic smells burning her sensitive nose.A woman in a lab coat approaching with another syringe.
Hold still,the woman said, her voice coldly clinical.This will suppress the shift response for approximately seventy-two hours.
Please,Etta heard herself beg, though the voice sounded younger, hoarser from screaming.Please don’t.It hurts.
Pain is irrelevant,the woman replied.The program requires complete suppression for integration.
The needle pierced her skin, and liquid fire spread through her veins.Her wolf—her true self—howled in agony as it was forced into dormancy.
Etta gasped, returning to the present with a violent shudder.These memories were becoming more frequent, more detailed—especially since the partial shift.It was as if breaking through that barrier had weakened whatever walls had been built in her mind.
She splashed cold water on her face, trying to ground herself in the present.The sensation of water against her skin was almost painfully intense—her heightened senses still adjusting as the suppression continued to fade.
Etta dressed quickly in clothes Anders had lent her, since she’d refused to return to the rental house for her own belongings.The soft cotton T-shirt and oversize sweatpants felt like sandpaper against her hypersensitive skin.
Everything was too loud, too bright, too strong.
When she emerged from the bathroom, the scent of coffee led her to the kitchen, where Anders was already awake and working on his laptop.
Morning,he said without looking up, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard.There’s food if you’re hungry.
Etta nodded, though hunger was the last thing on her mind.Her stomach roiled with anxiety as fragments of memories continued to assault her.
I keep remembering,she said softly, pouring herself coffee.The lab.The injections.They called me ‘asset,’ never by name.
Anders’s fingers stilled on the keyboard.He looked up, his hazel eyes intense.That’s good,he said.Each memory is a piece of the puzzle.
It doesn’t feel good.Etta’s hands trembled as she lifted the mug.It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside.
Anders closed his laptop, giving her his full attention.Your mind is healing.Fighting against the artificial boundaries they created.
Etta dropped into the chair across from him, exhaustion weighing on her.Last night,she began hesitantly.The shift… It really happened, didn’t it?
Yes,Anders confirmed.A partial shift, but significant.Your body remembers what it is, even if your mind has been programmed to forget.
Etta stared into her coffee, watching ripples form from her shaking hands.I need to see my notes.The ones I was keeping at the newspaper office.I forgot to grab them the other night.There might be clues there—things I was documenting without knowing.
Anders hesitated.Are you sure?The office is almost certain to be monitored still.And what you find might be…disturbing.
