Human Nature by Eileen Wilks Read Free Book Online Page B

fast.”
    “Hal’s a good attorney. He’s meeting us at the jail. I need to be the first one into Jason’s cell.”
    “What?” She glanced at him as she slowed. They’d reached the city jail, which was part of the local cop shop. “You know I can’t arrange that. They’ll have a guard bring him out.”
    “Jason has been locked up for twenty-four hours. He is uncomfortable in small, enclosed spaces.”
    Uh-oh. She should have thought of that. “As uncomfortable as you are?”
    “Somewhat more so.”

5
    HAL Newman’s white hair, silver-rimmed glasses, and charcoal gray suit fit the image of a top-flight defense attorney. He was California-fit and probably had his plastic surgeon on speed dial, judging by the smooth skin and general lack of sagging. He had the handshake down, too—just firm enough, neither hasty nor lingering.
    The distinct tingle of magic when their palms touched didn’t go with the image. It went with someone who turned furry on occasion—and would never need a plastic surgeon.
    Lily shot Rule a glance. He smiled blandly.
    No wonder the clan used Newman. He was clan. “Mr. Newman,” she said, “I understand you have some recommendations concerning Mr. Chance’s release that Chief Daly is reluctant to allow.”
    The chief looked smug. “We follow procedure here.”
    They were in the chief’s office—her, Rule, Newman, and the chief jailer, a morose fellow named Hawes. It was crowded. Daly was no neatnik, and he hadn’t bothered to shift the piles of papers from the single visitor’s chair to let any of them sit.
    Lily gave Daly a nod. “It’s usually best to do so. What are your procedures for releasing a lupus after he’s been incarcerated for over twenty-four hours?”
    “We’re supposed to treat them like everyone else now, so that’s what we’ll do. Follow the same procedure we would for anyone else.”
    “Under the law”—Newman had a deep, rolling baritone—“equal treatment does not necessarily mean identical treatment. Some classes of prisoners require different treatment. A wheelchair-bound prisoner, for example. Minors, obviously. And the courts have consistently ruled that visually impaired persons must be—”
    “Stuff the legal mumbo-jumbo.” Daly leaned back in his chair, convinced he had the upper hand. “Jason Chance isn’t blind or in a wheelchair. He isn’t a minor. He’s an able-bodied adult and he can walk out of here just fine on his own two legs.” He smirked. “Once he’s on two legs again, that is.”
    And that was the problem. Under the law, Chance had to be treated as having all the rights and responsibilities of citizenship when he was shaped like a human. Unfortunately, Daly now had a wolf locked up. Shortly before his lawyer arrived, Jason Chance had succumbed to his instinctive response to his race’s claustrophobia. He’d Changed.
    If Daly weren’t a turd, that wouldn’t matter. Rule could tell Chance to Change back. Rule possessed the heir’s portion of the clan’s mantle; even beast-lost, Chance would obey his Lu Nuncio. But Daly refused to allow Rule into the cell, or even into the jail itself. He refused to allow Newman in, too—“can’t take chances with a wild animal like that. He’s vicious. Likely he’d savage you.”
    And when Newman insisted he was entitled to see his client, Daly had said, “Wolves don’t have attorneys.”
    Legally, he was right.
    “What,” Rule asked in a low voice, “do you intend to do with Jason?”
    “Why, not a thing. But that wolf, now, he can’t stay here. That’s obvious. This is a jail for humans. Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do anything inhumane.” Blue eyes glittered with malice and pleasure. “He’ll be tranq’ed before we move him. Got an expert coming with a dart gun.”
    Rule’s voice dropped even lower. “Tranquilizers don’t work on lupi.”
    Daly’s eyes opened wide in mock surprise. “You sure? Because if he can’t be sedated, we do have a problem. The way