Predator by Janice Gable Bashman Read Free Book Online Page A

nothing. Bree tried to get a feel for what he was thinking, but couldn’t; his face was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper. Then he smiled and said, “You might be onto something. If that hand’s from a lycanthrope, we could try adding the transformative properties in the DNA from the hand to the wound repair serum. That just might stop the healing process from reversing.”
    She lit up when she saw the spark of innovation return to her dad’s eyes. “But we’d have to figure out how to make the transformation process only go one way.”
    “But it could work.”
    “Are you going to tell General Maberry?” she asked.
    “Not yet. I don’t want to give him any false hope. But when I do, I wish I could tell him it was your idea.”
    Bree smiled. “I still have plenty of time to make my mark on the world. I’m just glad you trusted me enough to tell me about the wound repair serum.”
    “You didn’t leave me much choice.”
    “Yeah, I guess not.” She thought back to that spring day when she’d confronted her dad, screaming and yelling at him like crazy. She’d cornered him in his home office and demanded to know what was so important at work that he was barely home anymore. He’d refused to tell her at first, said it was classified. But when she threatened to run away and never come back, Bree witnessed something she had never hoped to see: she watched her dad break. He curled forward as if slowly deflating until his shoulders started to shake. When he finally could speak, he confessed for the first time how much Troy’s death had hurt him and how he was working so hard to save other severely injured soldiers.
    She said, “We can still save Andy—and countless other soldiers with him.”
    Her dad touched her arm gently and nodded. “We need sleep. And tomorrow, we need to find out more about the hand.”

Chapter Fifteen
     
    Doolin’s Pub, Largheal, Ireland
     
    Inside Doolin’s, a former pub on the edge of town that now catered to the underage crowd, Bree spied Liam sitting at a table in the far corner with his hands wrapped around a glass. He waved Bree over. As she crossed the room, she took in everything: the long, carved wooden bar topped with huge jars of candy, the clusters of oak whiskey cask tables and stools, the concert posters covering the walls, and the Galway GAA sports memorabilia. Groups of teens huddled together at the tables, talking and drinking and dancing to the music coming from speakers above the bar.
    “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Bree said as she pulled out a chair and sat. She leaned in closer so she could hear him better over the music.
    “I’m surprised your da didn’t mind you going out at this hour.”
    “I didn’t exactly tell him.”
    “Your text said it was important. What’s up?”
    “So…um…back there in the lab,” Bree said, “when we were talking about the hand and the whole Kelsi and the flashlight thing you…you seemed upset when I told you I almost bashed her head with the flashlight. Then you turned your back to me and sounded kind of angry when you said I wasn’t a murderer.”
    “I know. I’m sorry.”
    Bree nodded. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. And believe me, I tried. It was like someone turned on a motor in my head and revved it up to high.”
    “I didn’t mean it. It’s just that…” Liam sighed and cast his eyes around the room.
    Bree shifted in her seat, puzzled. “What?” she said. “What is it?”
    Liam hesitated and then slid his chair closer to hers. He fiddled with his straw before continuing. “I guess I’ll just say it and get it over with. When I was two my biological parents were murdered.” His voice broke on the final word.
    “Liam,” Bree said, unable to say more. She reached under the table and touched his knee; his leg was shaking like crazy.
    Liam stared off into the distance. “Some guy killed them trying to rob their jewelry store.” He swallowed hard and shuddered.
    “No,” she