Pack Dynamics by Julie Frost

moment could be apropos.”
    A pause. “You have proof of this?”
    “Would I offer you the information if I thought you couldn’t use it? We don’t let outsiders in on our status without very good reason.” His very good reason was ill and resting up in their room.
    “I’ll keep it in mind.”
    “See that you do.”
    O O O
    Mike Reed sat in his preternaturally neat office at Jarrett Biologicals, elbows resting on an uber-organized chrome and glass desk, massaging his temples. The pounding in his head beat a counterpoint to the pounding on his door that told him Brandon was worried.
    Mike had done some idiotic things in his career, but this took the cake, mashed it up, and fed it to a colony of fire ants. He had no idea what had possessed him to bring that particular compound with him when he got the call, other than Hasgrave’s urgent tone of voice on the phone coupled with the outrageous hour.
    And then to use it and leave ? Mike was socially awkward at the best of times, and Jarrett was a force of nature who generally got exactly what he expected—in this case, he expected Mike to want to come back here and work on his latest project. And rather than argue the point, he’d done exactly that.
    “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He straightened two pens beside his mouse pad that were already perfectly aligned.
    But he hadn’t even hesitated. The guy had been dying on the table, and the standard stuff had already been fruitless. Except.…
    Side effects.
    Only they weren’t side effects. Side effects were unintended consequences of medication, whereas the effects here were not only intended, but the stated goal. The “side effects” of this thing were the benefits that had manifested in the OR.
    Which meant he’d better get Ben the hell out of there before the intended effects became evident or who knew what would happen?
    Well, no one. And that was a problem. Because he hadn’t tested this on people yet—and wasn’t sure he should, because it wasn’t meant for “people” in any case—but he had a bunch of scary-looking rabbits, both alive and in various stages of dissection, back at his house, and they’d been out of control and hard to kill, with fangs and claws like something out of a horror movie.
    Mike buried his head in his arms. He wasn’t sure, when all was said and done, that Ben would thank him for saving his life.

Chapter Six
    Janni’s brow creased. Ben had snarfed down three huge roast beef sandwiches and two slices of stuffed-crust all-the-meats pizza and fallen asleep on her shoulder. “Not that I’m complaining about him being actually alive, but should he be this tired?” she asked Alex. “Because you got shot, too, and you’re not crashing in the middle of a sentence.”
    She could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes, wondering how much he should tell her. “Ben’s injuries were … a little worse than mine, Janni,” he said slowly.
    She lifted an eyebrow, and his mouth did that thing it did when he hadn’t been completely honest and gotten caught. Alex had a terrible poker face.
    “Okay, a lot worse than mine.”
    “How bad was it?” she asked quietly.
    “How much do you want to know?”
    “Just give me the general picture. I don’t need details, but toss me a damn bone, Alex.”
    “Mine was pretty simple, through and out, right side, the bullet didn’t tumble or splinter a rib on its way in. And I hadn’t been tortured for two days first. Ben—” Alex paused for a second, and Janni found herself wishing she hadn’t asked. “Well, he probably would’ve died if Mike hadn’t gotten here when he did.” His mouth quirked again. “There it is.”
    She closed her eyes and breathed for a few seconds. She’d suspected, but not known. And she wasn’t sure that knowing was better. Kissing Ben’s hair, she squeezed him, not hard, not wanting to wake him up, but needing to feel him, whole and solid and alive, next to her.
    He stirred, and sighed, and