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"
I wondered what Carmichael did in the real world. Something not nice. Something where he knew what tools would be in a professional lock-picking kit.
"I won't warn you again," Carmichael said. "Throw it out or I pull the trigger. I am tired of screwing with this mess."
Edward threw out the slim leather pouch. It made a small slapping sound on the rock. Carmichael made no move to pick up the lock picks. They were out of our reach. That was what counted. He walked backwards, keeping us all in sight. He directed some of his attention to Jason and me. Oh, joy.
"Our little werewolf's awake. I was hoping he would be."
A low, ragged growl crawled up Jason's throat.
Carmichael gave a delighted bark of laughter. "I wanted to see him change. Good thing I checked back in."
"I'm thrilled that you're here," I said.
He came to stand just out of reach of our cage bars. He was staring at Jason. "I've never seen one of them change."
"Let me out and we'll watch him together."
"Now, why would I do that? I paid to see the whole show."
His eyes were sparkling with anticipation. Bright and shiny as a kid on Christmas morning. Shit.
A growl brought my attention completely back to Jason. He was crouched on the rock floor, hands and legs bunched under him. Watching that growl trickle from between his human lips raised the hair on the back of my neck.
He wasn't looking at me. "I think he's growling at you, Carmichael."
"But I'm not in the cage," he said. He had a point.
"Jason, don't get angry at him," Richard said. "Anger will feed the beast. You can't afford to get angry." Richard's voice was amazingly calm, even soothing. He was trying to talk Jason down, or out, or in, or whatever word you used for keeping a werewolf from shifting.
"No," Carmichael said, "get angry, wolf. I'm going to cut your head off and mount it on my wall."
"He'll revert back to human form after he's dead," I said.
"I know," Carmichael said.
Jesus. "Police find you with a human head in your possession, they may get a little suspicious."
"I've got a lot of trophies that I wouldn't want the police to find," he said.
"What do you do in the real world?"
"This is as real as it gets."
I shook my head. It was hard to argue with him, but I wanted to.
Jason crawled towards the bars, in a sort of monkey crouch. It wasn't as graceful but it had an energy to it, as if he were about to launch himself into the air. As if when he jumped he could fly.
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