Page 7 of Reconditioning the Wolf

“That asshole knows about shifters,” Sam stated, indicating the bound and gagged man. Using a thumb, he pointed over his shoulder at Ishmael. “That’s Ishmael. He’s a shifter in service to the scientists... and he’s Mads’s mate.”

“Not a shifter,” Ishmael countered, his deep voice soft and low. “No such things.”

“Your mate?” Kontra pinned his gaze on Madagascar.

Madagascar nodded. “Yeah.”

Kontra rubbed his hand over his goatee. “Well, shit.”

Cringing, Madagascar nodded. Even though finding his fated mate was a gift, he worried about Ishmael’s state of mind, too. He needed to find a way to get Ishmael talking again.

“And congratulations,” Kontra added with a smile. “We’ll help you figure this out.”

“Why are you naked?” Ishmael asked, looking confused even as he blushed again.

Payson sauntered into the room, also nude. “Cause shifting is hard on the threads,” he stated bluntly. Stopping near Ishmael, he crouched next to him and inhaled deeply. “Huh,” Payson grunted, only to lean closer and take another deep sniff of Ishmael.

“Payson?” Madagascar clenched his free hand, barely resisting pulling the shifter enforcer away from his mate. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Scenting him,” Payson replied with aduhlook on his face before looking over his shoulder at Kontra. “His scent is tainted by some chemical.”

Kontra hummed deeply in his chest, his eyes narrowing.

Madagascar winced as he refocused on Ishmael. “You’re taking pills for something?” He recalled then that Payson had the best nose of anyone. It suddenly clicked, and a gasp escaped him. “Are you taking meds to stop yourself from shifting?”

I can’t imagine purposefully repressing my bear.

“N-No.” Ishmael pressed closer to Madagascar and away from Payson. “I-I mean, yeah. I t-take meds, but I-I’m not a sh-shifter.” His cheeks darkened further, and a fresh wave of embarrassment perfumed the air. “Th-They’re for something else.”

“Back off, Payson,” Kontra ordered, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re freaking out Madagascar’s mate.”

At least it got him talking again, though... and leaning into me for support.

Payson obeyed by plopping on his ass and resting his forearms on his upturned knees. “So, whatcha takin’ them for, big guy?”

Ishmael’s focus moved to the floor in front of him, and he nibbled his bottom lip. Furrowing his brows, he shook his head.

“You don’t have to tell right now, Ishmael,” Madagascar told his mate, his bear grumbling in discontent upon scenting Ishmael’s skyrocketing unease. “We’ll get to it another time.” With a glance around, Madagascar added, “When there aren’t so many around, okay?”

Glancing toward him before refocusing on the floor, Ishmael simply nodded.

Payson opened his mouth, perhaps planning to press the issue, but a quick shake of the head from Kontra caused him to snap his mouth shut. Instead, he turned and focused on the bound captive. Arching a brow, Payson rose to his feet.

“You want me to take this one to Draven?” Payson asked, brushing off his butt as he headed toward him.

“Yes,” Kontra confirmed, taking the sweat shorts that a recently arrived Tim handed to him. “We need to know what he knows.”

The bound man cringed away from Payson, too, but probably for different reasons than Ishmael had. There was fear in the human’s eyes, and he began shaking his head.

Madagascar knew that Draven was not only a warlock but a vampire. He would delve into the asshole’s mind and give a report to Kontra. Then, depending on what he found, the man would either be put down for his crimes or his mind would be wiped, and he would be relocated.

As Payson tossed the man over his shoulder and headed out of the room, Ishmael whispered, “What are you gonna do to him?”

“That depends on his crimes,” Kontra replied evasively. He turned to Lamar and asked, “Is everyone clear?”

“Vail’s team is clear,” Lamar told him. “And Adam’s is exiting now.”

“Good.” Kontra patted Lamar on the shoulder and ordered, “Upload the virus. It’s time to get out of here.” As Lamar inserted a flash drive into a slot, Kontra turned to Ishmael. “Time to go, son. We have a lot to explain.”

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