Never once, in all those years, had a were failed to change back as soon as the sun came up. And Josse had even planned an extra day after the monthly three-day lock-in just to be on the safe side – the containment quarters in the warehouse loft would be unoccupied for the rescheduled inspection by the leak detection expert.
But when do things ever go to plan? When the timer-controlled doors of the full-moon units swung open on the morning before the appointment, all occupants bar one instantly slammed them shut again.
The one remaining occupant had greeted the opening of the doors with a triumphant roar. In the blink of an eye, he had burst into the corridor in pursuit of easy prey. The shaggy fur, the huge claws, the dripping fangs might have been politely overlooked on a being with greater social skills, but no way could they be de-emphasised on a hurtling mountain of muscle and murderous rage.
Josse and Adelphine were about to check in on the weres, just to make sure that everyone was well after their transformation exertions. They had not yet made it up the stairs when their mobiles began to ring.
***
“Eric hasn’t changed back!”
“Stay out of the corridor!”
“What do we do?”
“I’m late for a meeting!”
“Throw him some meat and run for it!”
Flurries of panicked messages were clogging up the weres’ group chat – more posts than anyone even had the time to read. Meanwhile, Josse had retrieved the tranquilliser gun from the emergency cupboard on the landing, cursing himself for the lack of foresight that now meant he would have to open the door to fire off a dart.
Why hadn’t he planned for a hatch?
***
Were-Eric was busily clawing the walls on the far side when Josse and Adelphine entered the corridor. They stood side by side, wand and dart gun at the ready, as he turned and charged, coming at them so fast that Josse hadn’t had time to take aim.
A blast from the wand sent him flying against the back wall, where the impact stunned him briefly – exposing the soft, hairless belly that would make a far better target than the rest of the thick werewolf hide. Josse’s dart found its mark just as Eric got his wind back.
It would take up to 10 minutes for the drug to take effect. Time for a quick stop at the warehouse café while they waited for the werewolf’s indignant howls to subside.
“That was fun,” said Adelphine, heading down the stairs while Josse locked the door. “I’ve not had a chance to use battle magic for ages.”
“Well, you’ve clearly not lost the knack,” Josse replied. “Maybe it’s like riding a bike?”
***
When they returned to the corridor one double espresso and a ginger tea later, were-Eric lay sprawled on the floor, his slack maw resting wide open in a pool of thick drool. Around him, the occupants of the other full-moon units stood scratching their heads.
“Does anyone have any idea what’s going on?” Presumably, there was were lore about this kind of phenomenon, Josse thought.
That said, none of the bystanders seemed to be having any kind of aha moment.
“Could you ask around? Call your grandmothers or community leaders or anyone else you can think of? Meanwhile, we’ll get Eric back into his unit.”
Moving Eric wasn’t going to be easy. There was far too much of him for a mere human to lift – this was a job for the vampires.
Josse put in a call for help from security. There wasn’t much room for the team to manoeuvre, but eventually they did manage to get a good grip. With one holding the arms and the other supporting the legs, they took off under the narrow ceiling and flew their charge back into his room, setting him down gently on the bare floor.
***
Soon after, all available residents had been given a job to do: one was putting a cat flap into the wall of Eric’s unit, to ensure that he could be fed without putting anyone at risk, another had procured a sick note for his employer from a GP in the know, the weres were quizzing their elders, and everyone else helped clean up the mess.
“It’s very rare, apparently, but not unheard of,” Ingrid reported on the weres’ initial findings. “Some people just snap out of it at sunrise after the next full moon. Apparently, there’s a ritual you can perform, but no one’s quite sure if it actually does anything.”
“So he could stay stuck in this form?” Adelphine was aghast. “Forever?”
“I’m sure we’ll find a solution,” Josse replied. “He’s safe for the moment, and someone will know something, or there might be something in my books. I’ll have a look as soon as I can.”
Just now, he had bigger fish to fry.
“Keep at it, and I’ll join you the second I get a chance. Right now, we need to make sure that everything’s ready for the leak man tomorrow.”
***
When the expert arrived on the following morning, the warehouse and the entire alley leading up to it looked perfectly bland.
The building’s back wall had been outsider-proofed from the roof all the way down to the cellar, where Chlurp’s fake brick wall shielded the harder-to-hide secrets. The full-moon units were clean and now furnished, each in a different, distinctive style; with posters, photo frames or soft furnishing covering any telltale gouges or stains.
In one of them a blind had been drawn over the skylight, and a sedated, muzzled werewolf lay swaddled in blankets, snuffling and snorting as he dreamt of fat, rosy prey. On the far side of the bed on the darkened room’s mezzanine, his outline would be hard to make out.
“On ne s’attardera pas dans cette pièce,” Josse said to the expert as they entered to inspect the room’s ensuite. “Le locataire a une crise de migraine; il ne faut pas le déranger.”