Page 20 of The Bull's Head

Teddy flipped the folder open. He retched when he gazed at the pages again, but there was nothing left in his stomach. He picked up the water Alp had brought in and sipped it, then placed the glass back on the table. His eyes burned as he read out loud.

“Experiment 22407: Dr. Julian Evers posed a fascinating question today. He wondered, since these shifters were animals, whether or not the meat would taste the same. When we got together for our meeting, I asked Dr. Evers to propose his query to those gathered. As soon as he did, the debate started. Dr. Cord said that with the chemicals involved, there was every possibility that the meat would be tainted and unfit for human consumption. So we took several shifters and placed them in solitary confinement. They were given no medications, as to keep the meat untainted.

“The first animal we tested was a squirrel shifter. The animal was humanely destroyed, then prepared in a stew. Dr. Mendez said that his family often ate squirrel when she was growing up and that the flavor was similar, but not exact. There was, she said, a certain gaminess to the meat. On a scale of one to five, she gave the meat a three.

“The next animal we tested was a quail shifter. As before, it was humanely destroyed, then it was prepared. This time it was roasted. Dr. Syo agreed with Dr. Mendez that the meat was rather gamey. He gave it a two out of five.

“The tests continued. We tried snake shifter, aquatic shifter, porcine shifter. Each time we followed the same procedure. The animal was humanely killed, then prepared. In every instance, the group agreed the meat was off from the flavor they were used to.

“Our final test was made with the bull shifter. Surprisingly, he fought against us, even after we?—”

Teddy stopped reading, he was shaking so hard. Mal took the stack of papers from him.

“Even after we shot him in the head,” Mal choked out.

Alp pushed away and rushed to the door. “I… I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He stumbled as he tried to get away, falling face-first onto the floor. Mal put the file down, then went and scooped his mate into his arms. Alp buried his head in Mal’s neck, the sobs tearing at Teddy. He knew he’d have to deal with this soon.

“I’ll be back,” Mal said. “I have to take care of Alp.”

And Teddy understood. He truly did.

After Mal left, Damon picked up the papers. “This is monstrous,” he said, his voice gravelly. Damon was the strongest shifter Teddy knew, and this was tearing at him. “They fucking graded the meat they were eating. It says that Cooper’s was the closest to the meats they’d tried, and he got a four of five. There are also notes in the margins talking about the type of fucking wine that would go best with each meat.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not the least bit sorry they’re dead.”

Once again, Teddy thought of Angel Salvatore and wished he existed. He wanted to revive all these people, and this time he would go slowly as he was killing them.

“Nor am I,” Teddy admitted. “Does this make me a bad person?”

“What?” Damon got up and pulled Teddy into a hug. It was weird, because though Teddy was bigger than Damon, the mere presence of the man made him seem so much larger. “You are one of the best people I know. You and your brother are our pack. Our family. Never forget that. Even if you’re here, you’re still ours.”

Teddy bent and put his head on Damon’s shoulder. “What am I going to tell Callum?”

“The truth. That’s the only thing you can give him. Leave out the details, though. He doesn’t need to know them.”

No, Callum had gone through too much already, and telling him about his brother’s death would be hard enough.

“I should go talk to him,” Teddy said, standing again.

“No, you should go rest first. You need to have your brain together. The date on this file is five years ago. It’s waited this long, I think it can hold on a little longer.”

Teddy gave a sharp nod. He strode from the room, his mind busier than it had ever been. Yes, he’d killed people in defense of his sleuth, and then his pack, but he’d never had to tell someone that their family had died.

He wasn’t looking forward to this at all.

Callum glanced at the sky for probably the twentieth time. The sun had nearly set, and he still hadn’t seen Teddy. He went to the box they’d mounted on one of the posts in his pen and pressed the button with his nose. He heard the squawk, and then a moment later, a familiar voice came on.

“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s… been really busy. I’m going to be out in a few minutes, okay?”

There was something wrong with Teddy’s voice. It sounded pained, as though he was close to tears. Callum pressed the button again.

“I said I’ll be right out!” Teddy snapped. “No, wait, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just….” He blew out a breath. “We have to talk.”

Callum wasn’t certain what he should do. He stepped back from the box, trying to think of what Teddy would want to say. Nothing really came to mind, except maybe he didn’t want to be friends. Callum couldn’t blame him for that. Who wanted a bull for a buddy? Not like he could take his bovine pal to dinner, right?

As the sun dipped below the tree line, the familiar footsteps finally echoed around him. His heart sped up, because he still couldn’t fathom why Teddy sounded sad and told Callum they had to talk. When Teddy finally stepped into view, Callum was on full alert. Teddy looked absolutely shattered. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His hair was mussed and unkempt. And sadness clung to him like a shroud.

“Hey.” He got closer and opened the gate to the pen before stepping inside. “I’m sorry I barked at you. That was a dick thing for me to do.”

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