“That might be difficult since I barely understand it myself,” she said softly. “For starters, the guy holding the remote is Rogi. He’s basically the muscle who gets rid of the body parts and does anything else Louis tells him to do. And yeah, before you ask, Louis is the Butcher by the way. He stumbled across a way to resurrect the dead, starting with your friend, Kyson. But he only did that so he can perfect the process before trying it on his son, the kid floating in the tank full of red goo.”
Trey opened his mouth to ask the first of dozens of questions, but she continued before he could.
“There’s more,” she said. “The resurrection process apparently didn’t take, at least not completely. Kyson’s body is slowly dying, part by part. Shaylee says it’s because Kyson has no desire to live…at least not like this. Louis has been amputating parts off Kyson as they fail and replacing them with the pieces he’s taken from his victims, some of whom he’s been stealing from the institute’s morgue. And oh yeah, he’s been setting Hugh up to take the fall for all of this. When I stumbled across the trail and thought Hugh was the Butcher, I went to talk to Louis, not realizing he was involved. That’s how I ended up down here. We’re in the basement of Louis’s Westover Hills home, by the way.”
“Damn,” Trey whispered, trying to wrap his head around everything Samantha had told him. “Louis is the Butcher? I never saw that coming. And resurrecting the dead? If Kyson wasn’t right here in front of me looking like something out of a horror movie, I never would have believed it.”
Samantha leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as well as she could considering the heavy collar around her neck. “Trust me, I get it. I’ve seen some of what Louis has done to Kyson and I’m still having a hard time dealing with it. It’s a lot to take in.”
“And Shaylee?” Trey asked, motioning toward where the woman still sat on the floor near Kyson, looking utterly exhausted. “How did she get involved in this?”
Samantha moved her face just enough to look over at the woman, sighing softly. “She had the bad luck to be living in the woods near the Trinity River body dump location and saw Kyson. Rogi grabbed her and they’ve been holding her as leverage against Kyson ever since. They’ve done a number on your friend, Trey. Louis claims he barely remembers anything about his old life, but he loves that woman with everything he has left.”
He groaned. “This is so screwed up. Kyson’s whole life has been one long uphill battle of pain and struggle, from his so-called family to the war, to the years he spent trying to recover from his injuries, and then being homeless. Even after death, it seems he still can’t catch a break.”
“Unfortunately, it probably isn’t going to get much better anytime soon,” Samantha said. “From what Nadia told me, Louis is planning on using your werewolf DNA to improve Kyson’s healing abilities to stop his body from rejecting the transplants. After seeing Louis’s methods, I’m guessing that means another round of painful experiments for Kyson.”
Trey realized that answered one of the questions he hadn’t gotten around to asking yet—why they hadn’t killed him in the first place. He was about to ask how Louis had figured out what he was when it occurred to him that Samantha had mentioned Nadia. In all the craziness, he’d completely forgotten about the vita.
“How is Nadia involved with Louis?” he asked, sniffing around for the overly sweet smell he’d come to associate with the vita lamia and finding nothing. “We only picked up her connection to the Butcher case late last night, then spent the rest of the time looking for her. We thought she was the one who’d kidnapped you.”
“You sound like you already know more about her than I do,” Samantha said. “I didn’t know she was involved in this at all until she walked in the door shortly after Rogi and Kyson brought you here. I’m not sure what it means, but she said something about feeding on you. She implied that when Louis is done with you, she gets to have you. In fact, she compared you to wagyu beef. And…um…you may not believe this, but her eyes changed and got all big and buggy when she threatened me earlier. I’m assuming Nadia’s something like you, but different.”
Trey couldn’t help but laugh a little, even if the part about Nadia wanting to feed on him was totally disgusting. “Like me, Nadia is a supernatural. But that’s the only thing we have in common. She’s something called a vita lamia. It’s a kind of vampire that feeds on a person’s life force—their energy. So yeah, we’re different.”
He could practically hear the wheels turning in Samantha’s head as she processed what he’d told her. He had to admit, she was taking all of this exceptionally well. Maybe he should have taken Connor’s suggestion and told her what he was sooner.
“So, my coworker is a life-sucking vampire.” Samantha pulled back to look at him. “And you’re a werewolf.”
The word hung in the air between them and Trey’s heart stopped a little. This was the moment he’d been dreading and now that it was here, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He’d gone up against bad guys trying to kill him more times than he could count, but he’d never been as terrified as he was right now. If Samantha rejected him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it.
Somewhere inside, his inner wolf howled.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said softly. “But I promise you I’m not the monster you think I am.”
Samantha recoiled, stiffening in his lap. “I don’t think you’re a monster. I could never think that!” She reached up to cup his jaw. “You’re the kindest, sweetest, most gentle man I’ve ever met. You have something in your blood that makes you unique. That’s all. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”
Gazing into her blue eyes right then, Trey believed every word she’d said. Just like that, the stranglehold of fear around him disappeared—if the sigh of contentment his inner wolf let out was any indication, it was as relieved as he was. There was still the subject of soul mates to talk about, but they could explore that later. At the moment, knowing she cared for him was enough.
He smiled. “If I didn’t think that jackass with the remote would zap you, I’d kiss you right now.”
Samantha grimaced, darting a glance in Rogi’s direction. “Since we can’t do that, why don’t you tell me how you became a werewolf? Did you get attacked and bitten while crossing the Yorkshire moors of Northern England or something?”
“Yorkshire moors?” He lifted a brow. “That’s oddly specific.”
She gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. An American Werewolf in London is the total sum of my knowledge on the subject of werewolves. If not England, then where?”
“Afghanistan,” he said simply. “But I wasn’t attacked and bitten. That isn’t how it works. Some people have a gene in their DNA that turns on if they go through a stressful, traumatic situation. A switch is flipped, and poof, you get a werewolf.”