Chapter 5: Red Tape & the Price of Freedom

Dr. Cummings was as good as his word. About a half an hour later, an orderly showed up with a wheelchair and off we went. I felt a shiver of fear go down my spine as the elevator doors closed and we descended to the below-ground labs. Part of me wondered if I'd ever come back up.

The tests were painless. An X-ray, a CAT scan, blood samples, and an MRI; nothing I hadn't done before at various times in my life. Still, something relaxed inside me when they brought me back to my room and I climbed into bed. When Evan showed up a few hours later, I almost wept with joy. He was carrying a large cheese and pepperoni pizza! When he set it down on the bedside table, I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and jerked him down for a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek.

"You, Sir, have made my week. Thank you!"

He grinned and executed a courtly bow that should have looked ridiculous in his jeans and t-shirt, but he carried it off with style. "As the Lady wishes, I am but yours to command."

I giggled and reached for a slice of deliciousness. It smelled fantastic. Dr. Cummings had put me on regular food for dinner the night before, but hospital food even at a fancy, private facility left a lot to be desired. A small moan of pleasure escaped me as I chewed my first bite.

"I don't know how you snuck this in, but let me say again, 'thank you.' Want a piece?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me in a manner that made me realize how that sounded. I giggled as I qualified, "Of pizza. Would you like a piece of pizza?" His wicked grin was his only answer as he reached into the box and pulled a slice out for himself. We ate in happy silence (Well, mostly. I still moaned a little here and there) until most of the pizza was gone. I was a little surprised when I realized I'd eaten about five pieces.

Evan noticed me frowning and guessed the cause, "You're going to have a bigger appetite now. You've also been doing a lot of healing lately, which burns fuel. Don't be surprised, you're not really overeating for a wolf."

"Indeed, she is not and should probably have another slice." Dr. Cummings came into the room and snagged himself a piece of pizza, "But not this one."

He flopped in the chair on the other side of my bed and grinned as he ate. In between bites, he asked me, "Have you told him about this afternoon?"

I shook my head. Evan was looking at us both with curiosity.

"She had a little flashback. It was nothing major and I'm sure she will tell you all about it once she's released." He cut his eyes to me and it was clear he was telling me to keep quiet about what happened for now.

"We did a bunch of tests to see how she's progressing and I'm here to tell you the results are quite good. The stitches in her neck will need to come out in about three days, but you can take care of that on your own. I'm going to release you for processing tomorrow."

He stood up to leave, "Evan will explain what to expect during processing. I'll see you in the morning to sign your release papers. Thanks for the pizza." He grinned at us and left.

I munched slowly on another piece of pizza and pondered why I had to wait to talk to Evan about the flashback. Dr. Cummings must have a reason and didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't decide what the problem was, but I wasn't going to ignore his wishes either. I could tell Evan was unhappy and wanted to know more.

"You're okay, though?"

I shook my head, "I'm fine. So tell me about this processing tomorrow. Should I be worried?"

Evan sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "No, it's not a big deal. Are you familiar with the Witness Protection Program?"

I nodded, "Vaguely. They relocate people and give them new identities."

"In a nutshell, yes. Tomorrow, we'll meet with a government agent who works for a somewhat similar program. Witness Protection is run by the Federal Department of Justice and the United States Marshals Service as a way to protect witnesses in cases involving organized crime. That's not really applicable here."

"The agent tomorrow will be from a special relocation unit. I don't know what agency they're affiliated with and I would recommend you don't ask. Before computers were a part of everyday life, it was fairly easy if a werewolf had to start over. He or she moved to a new area of the country, bought some papers, and settled down. With Social Security numbers, computerized records, and the advances made to detect forged documents, it's nearly impossible to do that in this day and age. The government, or at least some parts of it, has been aware of our existence for a while now."

"Yes," I interrupted. "Dr. Cummings told me some of that this afternoon. How they help to keep us a secret to avoid public panic."

He nodded. "Exactly. So tomorrow, the agent will give you a new identity. You'll also be given a small amount of money to start over. But there will be conditions on it and you'll have to abide by their rules. If you don't, and they find out, the consequences could be deadly. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"They'll kill me," I whispered. "If I don't follow the rules, they'll kill me."

Evan's expression was grim, "Yes, they will. Their job is to protect the United States of America. Werewolves becoming public knowledge would create hysteria, mobs, and violence. They won't let that happen." He looked at me intently, "You need to play by their rules."

No, I would never again see or talk to Caleb. I couldn't deal with that pain, so I locked it away inside me and started building a thick wall around it. I was scared of being a werewolf, but I was scared of dying more. Scared of getting my best friend killed because of my own weakness. I would do what the agent told me and that meant letting go of Caleb, forever.

"So where will I go? I don't even have a clue." I thought hard and all I could come up with was my standard daydream, "I guess I could go to the Bahamas."

Evan smiled, "You could, but you wouldn't like it much. Wolves don't enjoy tropical climates, they are much too hot when you wear fur once a month. Actually, you'll be coming home with me. Not permanently, but for a while. After you've got your wolf under control and you've demonstrated that you're following the rules, you can go somewhere else if you'd like. Think of it as a halfway house where you'll learn what you need to know for your new life. Of course, you're welcome to stay and join my pack permanently, if you decide that is what you want to do."

I wasn't entirely sure I liked that idea. I barely knew this man. Granted, he'd saved my life. And he was still here. He'd stayed with me in the hospital long after Steve had gone back home. We seemed to get along okay, even if he was so attractive that it made my belly jumpy. Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible starting over in a new place if I knew (sort of) at least one person. "And where is home, exactly?"

"I live on the west coast in Oregon. There are a couple of big national forests in the area that give the pack room to run and I own quite a few acres of my own. It's pretty rural, but there are small towns nearby and it's only a few hours to Portland if you need to go shopping or something."

I sighed, "Given that I don't own a single thing right now, I would say that I definitely need to do some shopping. I don't suppose I could ask you for a favor? Is there any way you could pick me up some clothes for tomorrow? I don't want to leave here in a stolen hospital gown."

An amused grin slid over his face, "I'll see what I can do. What size shoes do you wear?"

I kicked off my blankets and swung my feet off the bed. "Well, I used to wear a ten, but they don't look quite as big as they used to."

Evan nodded, "The wolf makes a lot of changes. Your whole genetic makeup is different now. Why don't we take that pad you've got and I'll get an outline of your foot. It won't be exact, but it should let me get you a pair of sneakers that will be close."

I tore a sheet of paper out of the pad and handed it to him. It tickled when he drew around my foot, but I managed not to giggle.

"Is that why my hair changed color, too? Because of the wolf?"

"Yes. When you change for the first time, the wolf settles in. When you changed back to human, the magic of that first shift allowed the changes of the wolf to actually manifest in your human form. Most of us turned in our twenties and there's not very much difference before and after. Your hair color reflects the color of your wolf. As a wolf, you are silvery white with a darker gray strip along your spine. White wolves are a rarity among us. You were going gray when you were attacked, right?"

I nodded, "The women in my family start at sixteen. I had a solid fringe in my bangs and I had silver streaks at the temples."

"I thought so. I think that's why your wolf is silver. You were already on your way; the wolf just finished the job." He grinned at me and I couldn't help but smile back.

"It looks a little odd with my young face."

"No, it doesn't." I raised one eyebrow at him; he had to be kidding. "It looks stunning. You're beautiful, Lauren. You were beautiful that night, covered in blood and dying in my arms. You're more so now."

That knocked the air out of me. I could tell from the way he was looking at me with his serious, intent gaze that he meant every word he said. I'd never thought of myself as beautiful. That he found me so, both before and after, was a revelation.

"I'm going to head out so I can pick up some clothes for you. Do you need anything else before I go?"

"Not immediately, no. They gave me a toothbrush, a comb, that sort of stuff. It should hold me until I get out of here. Thank you for the clothes, I'll find a way to pay you back someday."

Evan smiled and dropped a light kiss on my temple. "Don't even worry about it. As a new wolf, you're going to be fine. You don't owe me anything, now or ever. Got it?" I nodded and with another smile, he was gone.

The next day did not go well.

Evan arrived fairly early and dropped a Wal-Mart bag on the bed. Inside was a pair of sweats, underwear, socks, and a pair of sneakers. No bra. "I know it's not much, but I figured even if I guessed wrong that sweats would still fit. We can go shopping later to get you real clothes."

I wasn't about to complain. If the price of freedom was wearing baggy blue sweats, so be it. I scooped the clothes off the bed, grabbed my plastic tub of hygiene supplies from the hospital and locked myself in the bathroom. Twenty minutes later I was clean, my hair was dry, and I was dressed in street clothes. The sneakers actually fit pretty well, which surprised me. When I was done, Dr. Cummings was in my room with Evan.

"Ah, look at you! Ready to get out of here?"

"Yes, please."

He looked at my neck and gave Evan instructions on how to pull the stitches out in a few days. After Dr. Cummings took care of signing my release papers, he told us where to go for processing and gave me a brief hug goodbye.

"You take care, now. I don't ever want to see you back in here again."

I grinned at him, "I'll do my best."

As we made our way to the main entrance, I worried about what would happen next. Evan must have been able to tell I was anxious because he touched my shoulder and told me to relax. There were two armed guards at the main entrance. After examining my release papers and looking though the bag Evan carried, one of the guards led us into a room. Once inside, he had me stand in front of a white screen and took a standard head shot photo. Then he fingerprinted me, recorded my hair and eye color, measured my height, and had me stand on a scale for my weight. I boggled a little at when he told me my weight. I still couldn't get used to being so much lighter.

When he was done, the guard led us into a second room and told us the agent would be with us shortly. The room he left us in was a pretty standard conference room. There was a large table in the center of the room with a dozen or so chairs around it. It wasn't long before a door on the opposite side of the room opened and an older man joined us.

"I'm Special Agent Stanton and I'll be processing you today. Please have a seat."