In the exercise room, Carl grumbled as he folded his pants then pulled a loose tank and shorts on. "No kidding it's boring. We should have a Blu-ray player and screen in here. I could watch Casablanca, or better yet, Never Cry Wolf, or the National Geographic channel – whatever."
Jordan was bench-pressing an incredible stack of weights. "You're the boss, but that'll decrease your performance. You have to concentrate on the muscle you're working for the best results." He completed his set and went to leg curls. Jordan worked his lower body while Carl worked upper, and vice versa, so they never needed the same set of weights at the same time.
"Can you prove that?" Carl asked, reaching over to turn down the music on the sound system. Jordan would count his repetitions with him, at the same time as his own, if there was no music in the background. Carl wanted to make sure he had a backup in case he lost count. It was too important to risk error.
Jordan snorted. "I don't... have to." His breathing was catching up with his words. "Someone else did." He waited until Carl started lifting weights before he continued repping out his own sets, at five times for every four of Carl's. He'd said once that he had composed a twenty-bar piece in his head and knew, by which bar he was in, how many reps they'd each done. "So, what happened up there?" Jordan closed his eyes as the room filled with the sound of the shuffling weights.
"You mean while I was out last night? How would I know? I might need to get a radio collar, or perhaps you should follow me – find out what I'm eating, when, where, how. Maybe the virus is mutating." Carl fell into his own rhythm as he lifted.
Jordan shuddered as he continued lifting his own weights. "Nnnno… no. I'll track you down after the change. Hell, I'll even start looking before you change, but I don't want to be anywhere near you when you're altered. I could have killed you that first time."
Shocked, Carl dropped his weights with a heavy clunk. "You what? You never told me that!" He picked up the bar again and resumed lifting, looking at Jordan in consternation.
Jordan held his weights at halfway until Carl regained his tempo, looking impatient. "I was pissed… and in a room with a wild animal. You gave me no warning whatsoever. I mean, damn, Carl," Jordan nearly lost control of the weights in a burst of strength, then went on, "You took me downstairs, asked me to record everything I see, slipped into that room with the barred door, and started... changing on me. I thought you were some kind of demon, witch… God knows what. But it sure didn't look like the science I grew up with." Jordan paused, then started lifting again.
"Jesus.” Carl was mortified. Though he had found the experience disorienting, he’d become accustomed to what was happening by the time he introduced Jordan to the situation, and he’d been so psyched about gathering data, it hadn’t occurred to him that it would be disturbing for Jordan. “I apologize. I guess that couldn't have possibly gotten us off to a good start."
"Not hardly. Keep lifting, Carl. You shouldn't be on your second set yet."
Carl was astounded. "How many did I do?"
"Eighteen, and you were lagging on the last three or four." Jordan paused for a few seconds again, then went into his third set. Jordan finished his set before Carl regained his composure.
"I was exhausted. I was sure I'd done the full set."
"You didn't have any problem yesterday," Jordan said with concern. He let his weights down gently and walked over to Carl, picking up the measuring tape and the chart. "You've lost six pounds, starting from day one of this cycle. You say you have no memory whatsoever of what happened up there?"
"No, just the… the wolf when I woke up."
Jordan put the chart on the bench and straddled it again, tape in hand. "I look forward to the day you stop surprising me. What happened with this wolf?"
"She just–"
"She?" Jordan’s hand dropped to the bench.
"Yes, it was a female."
"How'd you know it was a she-wolf?"
Carl cocked his head. "I can't rightly say. It was the way she smelled, the way she moved, I guess."
"You didn't, uh..." Jordan became very uncomfortable.
"I keep telling you I don't know! But she's been there every morning this cycle."
"You know they mate for life…"
Carl gave the wall a disgusted look. "Yes, I know. This curse thing is worse than a bad drunk. But… at least she can’t slap me with a paternity suit," Carl joked, using humor to hide his concern. He rubbed his hand across his head as Jordan started taking Carl’s measurements, beginning with the upper shoulders. They went through the process of recording physical findings again, and Jordan marked off each data point. Carl didn't bother even trying to look.
As Jordan made the last notation, he sighed and paused. Finally, he broke the silence. "I noticed you were off your feed at dinner."
Carl answered wearily. "I didn't know how Diana would feel about my eating several pounds of fish. I had supplements while you were gone, but I haven't adjusted to the new diet yet. It's an imposing amount of food."
Jordan gave him an incredulous stare. "You insisted yourself on getting more food, and I agreed.”
Carl winced, then shrugged. "Are you going to tell me what the chart says?" He turned around.
"Thought you didn't want to know."
"I didn't, but I need to get back to the weights." Carl held out his hand for the chart.
Jordan ignored his hand. "So, start lifting."
Carl's hand remained. "Tell me."
"It's about the same."
"How close?"
"About the same--"
"Hand me that!"
Jordan passed him the chart, and Carl's stomach sank as he realized just what Jordan meant to hide from him. He had lost nearly half as many inches during the day as he lost during the night with the two transformations. He felt queasy. "Oh my God. What in the hell is going on?" He checked for an error, but there wasn't any. "Did you calibrate the tape against yourself?"
"I did this morning on three measurements. Mine haven't changed. Here," he flicked the tape over his own upper arm, snagged the end and pulled it tight. "Biceps eighteen." He released the tape.
"Jesus, I've got to check that blood sample."
Jordan clenched his fists onto the measuring tape and started folding it, the tail whipping back and forth against his arm. "You've got to eat, damn it, and you've got to work out."
Carl cradled his forehead in his hand. "Oh, come on Jordan. I can't do any more. I'm so tired of working out, and I'm just not hungry enough."
"If you work out, you'll get hungry, you idiot! Too bad there’s no place to swim. Across a small lake and back a few times, you could dispense with the weights, and you'd be hungry enough when you got back to eat a whole rack of prime rib. Of course, at this time of year, you'd also have hypothermia."
"Who knows? Maybe werewolves don't get hypothermia." Carl surreptitiously glanced at the door. Even when they didn't have a guest, they had avoided using that word, for fear of getting in the habit and being overheard. It also appeared to make Jordan queasy. "Hey, I'm sorry about the kitchen,” he said, changing the subject quickly to distract Jordan.
"What? What's wrong with the kitchen?" Jordan stood up in alarm. "What did you do – you didn't move things around again, did you? I know you didn't eat anything, though it’d be a blessing if you did."
"No, it's Diana. I told her to make herself at home, and I forgot to mention the kitchen... uh… rules."
Jordan's face turned to stone. A difficult task, Carl thought, when it normally seemed chiseled out of topaz anyway.
"I'll have to check it out," Jordan said angrily. He looked at his watch. "And after that, I'm on break. Keep lifting. And count your reps, dammit!" He strode from the room.
Carl turned and hefted the bar again. He had noticed that Jordan kept a running tally in his head, always, of exactly how much food there was in the kitchen, and roughly how much in the pantry. Carl could take food without it bothering Jordan as long as Jordan was notified, but when food disappeared behind Jordan's back it could put him in a black mood for hours, or more.
Carl checked his watch; he still had an hour before he needed to leave the house for his last night of transformation this month. He had hoped to talk to Jordan about coming after Carl without making Diana suspicious, but Jordan would know what to do.