The car was large, but not large enough as far as Morgan was concerned. Two tall men, both dominant in an enclosed space, was never a good idea, especially since Morgan wasn’t sure about Aventine’s commitment to playing nice.

A few months previously, Julia had come to Morgan with a plan to strengthen the family. Her concept was that if the Palatines could play nice with the Aventines then they could stop wasting a lot of needless energy on grudge matches, even if those grudges went back thousands of years. Turns out she had been approached by Roman’s mother. Whoever originated the idea, it was a good one.

Morgan began losing sleep and business when the Aventine family moved into the neighborhood and set up shop. The Palatines had held onto the northern California foundations market for years, decades even. Their diversified interests in construction, wine, and renewable energy had made them a very wealthy family. Julia’s business acumen made sure they stayed one.

The Aventines, a very similar family, had been located and focused in New England for over a century. Their move to a San Francisco base of operations could be clearly interpreted as a hostile maneuver, especially since they were actively cutting into Morgan’s Seven Hills construction business.

The move was driven by the alpha’s wife, who currently received medical treatments at Stanford Cancer Institute. Blackston Aventine was not ready to release control over the family or the business; however, he had been willing to negotiate a peace with the Palatines, since his focus was now on his wife and her health. He didn’t want the hassle of petty rival arguments between the two families which could be disastrous, both financially and physically.

Roman Aventine was not his family’s alpha. His father was. Even if his father decreed a peace with the Palatines, it didn’t mean Roman would necessarily follow suit. But he had been active in the accord meetings, and he was the one to set up this morning’s meeting. He had been the one to share the information regarding the DNA find.

Aventine had introduced the venture, that clearly indicated he was willing to play nice. If Morgan faced facts, he was uncomfortable because he sat in a car headed towards the East Bay and not back to Honey in Monterey.

He combed his fingers through his hair. He was a grown-ass man, and he had messed up his date with Honey as if he had never been on one before. He shook his head. Honey was so beautiful he couldn’t think straight. Morgan sighed. Loudly.

“You seem distracted a bit, Palatine. Not getting car sick, are you?” Aventine’s voice cut with sarcasm. Morgan had no plans on sharing his personal defeat with this man. He quickly brought the conversation back to business and concerns with the newly discovered genetic evidence. “No, just lots to think about. This DNA evidence—it means we have to be even more careful.”

“It’s why I brought you in first. I thought if we can get some kind of containment on the information, then when we start to let other families know, we actually have solid information plus actionable solutions. Right now, if I start alerting other groups to the ability to identify wolf shifters by DNA, we’re going to have a lot of panic. Unnecessary panic,” the blond man explained with cool demeanor.

“Have you begun analyzing the international implications?”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to bring your sister in on this. Her business mind is ten steps ahead of the competition. I’m brilliant, but she’s better.”

Morgan slid his gaze sidelong to glance at Roman Aventine. Not in so many words, but Roman had revealed a weakness for Julia. It could be purely appreciation of her professional skills, but Morgan didn’t think so. Not after what he witnessed back in Aventine’s office. He shook his head, jogging his thoughts back into position.

“So our businesses partner up, make a game plan for the information. Then what? Sell it to the highest bidder? Keep some families in the dark?”

“Not at all. This gets shared freely with all parties concerned. Otherwise, we end up on the front page of every newspaper in the country—and not just the National Inquisitor. Know what I mean?”

Morgan nodded. This was good. Aventine showed concern for the greater good of their kind and not the greater good of his wallet.

The car maneuvered into an office park and stopped in front of a long low building of white stucco and blue glass. The sign out front indicated they had arrived at SeaQuence.

Roman took long confident strides as he approached the reception desk. The young woman behind the tall desk stammered over his name, clearly impressed by his clean-cut good looks, and continuously glanced at him through her lowered lashes.

A woman in a white lab coat approached them. “Roman Aventine, nice to see you again.” They shook then Aventine introduced her to Morgan.

“Doctor Stacey Barnes, this is Morgan Palatine.”

She paused slightly in recognition. Morgan’s position in his family was well known among the Aventine family.

“Mr. Palatine, a pleasure.” Dr. Barnes turned and headed back through the double doors she had previously emerged from. “If you gentlemen will follow me.”

The two men followed her through several corridors of white walls. She led them into a large open area filled with laboratory benches. They passed a bank of equipment along one wall. Lights flashed and containers spun. On the far side of the room, she opened a glass door and held out her hand indicating they should enter.

“Please sit.” She motioned towards two chairs facing a desk. The men each took a seat.

“Stacey, could you please review the information with Mr. Palatine that you shared with me the other day?” Aventine asked.

She nodded then began pulling out stacks of paper similar to those Aventine had shown Morgan and Julia in his office.

“We’re learning more and more about human DNA every year. Keep in mind twenty years ago we didn’t have half the DNA information we had ten years ago. So all this is new. To everyone. I’m sorry if I’m repeating anything you already know. At SeaQuence, we run genetic sequencing and identification. We are one of the labs that courts use in paternity testing cases, and we do DNA identification for crime labs. We also run some of the tests that those genealogy places now offer, the ones that help you identify your ethnic heritage.” She carefully looked from one man to the next. “That’s how I found the marker for wolf.”

“Okay.” She spread several sheets of paper on her desk. Alphanumeric codes covered the page. Some of the codes were outlined in green, others yellow, others blue. One set of codes had a bright orange starburst clearly drawn around them with a highlighter. “I ran my DNA through the system. Might as well get a heads-up on any inclinations towards heart disease and the like. But this showed up unexpectedly.” She tapped the starburst of orange. “This page shows my ethnic breakdown. This is what it looks like before it’s evaluated and translated for the average Joe to understand. This group shows Nordic ancestry,” she circled a cluster of codes with her finger. “This group is the Mediterranean-Aegean ancestry. Nothing unexpected.” She circled the cluster of codes around the highlighted mark again. “At first I thought this was junk code—DNA with markers but no actual genes or DNA that codes for a gene or genes with no know function. All DNA has some, so it’s nothing actually unusual. I was reviewing some other reports, and I noticed their junk DNA looked different. The sequences in this region were unique to me. I wanted to find out if it was me individually or me as wolf.” She nodded looking back up at the men. “Make sense?”

Morgan leaned in, focused on her information. Mostly a repeat of what Aventine had said, but hearing it a second time, the information started to take a more comprehensible shape.

“That’s when you tested other family members,” Aventine added.

“Exactly. This pattern showed up on the known wolves I tested. I then started testing non-shifter family members. That’s when I really narrowed it down to the exact coding region.”

She shuffled papers. “I can now identify the specific allele—” She looked at Morgan and assessed his puzzled look. “—that’s a variation of a gene that shows up in the same place on the same chromosome. Like we know what location on the chromosome has eye color, so I can identify which is the set that determines if a person is wolf, ethnically. With this information, we can start to identify what other genes and chromosomal regions determine if offspring will have the ability to change or not.” She looked from Aventine to Palatine. “You realize, gentlemen, this might make us somewhat of a sub mutation of the genus Homo?” Dr. Barnes sat back, sighing.

“Or the next step in evolution?”

Morgan cut Roman a side-eye glance. “Superiority complex?”

Roman laughed.

“Of course, there is some margin of error, but with the little testing I’ve done, the gene is showing up consistently and predictably. Currently, I have only identified it showing up here as an ethnicity trait. There are most likely additional gene sets. Just as we have genes that identify us ethnically, there are related genes that will show up in some of the medical panels. Genes sometimes travel in packs that way, its called linkage disequilibrium. The other genetic players haven’t been found yet, but trust me, they are in there. There will be other correlations between wolf alleles and other medical issues. I’d put money on there being a tie into our longevity and ability to fight disease and heal quickly. Even non-changers possess and exhibit those traits.”

“Interesting,” Morgan muttered.

“Scientifically, this is beyond interesting. It opens up so many questions. If we are a subgroup of Homo, how far did our kind interact with Homo sapiens to become integrated with them? Are we from a previously unknown species that somehow interbred with Homo sapiens, became absorbed into the species, and disappeared as a standalone group the way Neanderthals did? How far back before we run into dormant markers in the general population? How can we breed with an unknown, assumed regular Homo sapiens and come up with one of us?” Dr. Barnes pulled off her glasses and placed them on her desk. “You’re familiar with the mate aura?” She gave the term air quotes with her fingers.

“But that’s only among our kind,” Aventine said.

“No, it’s not.” Morgan corrected, thinking about how Honey had looked bathed in golden light.

“Right.” She pointed at Morgan. “While I think we’re the only ones who see it, humans can glow. It’s how we can all have that one human grandmother and can still shift. I’d say—educated guess here—this means that either wolf is a dominant gene set, or somewhere in that person’s genome, they have wolf. I haven’t yet tested a human mate to really be able to drill down into their DNA.”

Morgan listened intently. Would Honey be willing to be tested? He couldn’t ask her just yet. It wasn’t a matter of if Honey would have him back, but how soon. She was his. His mate. He would do whatever it took for her to accept him.

“Clearly, you have years of research ahead of you. But how do we take this information and corral it?” Morgan asked. “We can’t buy out every lab that does this work?”

Roman shook his head, “No, but we do need to establish a presence in this business community and access the data.”

“If we alert other labs to the gene signature, their radar goes off and red flags start flying. That would basically be alerting the community that something is up with this code. That would result in noses we don’t want sniffing around in our business and investigating people we don’t want investigated,” Dr. Barnes added.

Morgan leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, hands fisted together. “Could we infiltrate their databases with some kind of filtering program? Have all matches sent to us?” He rested his lips on his fingers. “We need a piggyback program. Something that runs behind the database software. Something that we can use to get into all the systems, that alerts us without their knowing about it.”

“That’s one solution.” Barnes agreed. “But programming and infiltrating other databases is going to take time. Fortunately, this is not a widely expressed allele and no one is studying its function yet.

“I’ve already checked our database. We run hundreds of thousands of DNA tests, and the only cases of the gene are found in the tests I’ve run.” Dr. Barnes collected the papers spread across her desk. “I have an idea that should work in the short-term, while you figure out the big picture and how to harvest this information from other databases. I am a clinical researcher. I can put a call out to other labs in the US and Canada for this information. Right now its junk code as far as anyone is concerned. I tell them I’m looking for a few different sets of junk code. Give them several options, so nothing is pointing to our identifier specifically. Tell them I’m researching if it is, in fact, junk code or a placeholder for related medical issues.” She nodded to herself. “Tell them it’s viral related. Really send them in the wrong direction.”

“This way I can start collecting the information, and we can see how far spread this really is. In the meantime, tell everyone you know to not go in for genetic testing.

“The only problem I can see with that,” Roman drawled, “is if you get a match. We won’t have patient information associated to it.”

“No, but we’ll be able to see how many more are out there being tested. Are the labs regional? Will we be able to pick up that type of data?” Morgan asked.

Dr. Barnes shook her head. “Labs are all over the place and not regional. I might be able to get location information from the other labs, but you’re right, nothing identifying who the DNA belongs to. Not unless they happen to be a perp in the national and federal database of criminals who has been tested for DNA.”

“It’s a start,” Roman noted. “How soon can you take action and get this moving?”

“You mean start contacting other labs regarding bogus research? A few days. I need to come up with a brilliant and feasible hypothesis to present along with my request. I can get that started right away.” She motioned with her hands. “It’s going to have to be good to sound convincing.” She turned to Roman, “I’m going to need funding. Rumor says you’re trying to purchase SeaQuence. I think once that’s done, you can officially green light my research project. In the meantime I can get everything set up and ready to go.”

“Do that. We’ll keep brainstorming on how to access the information on a more permanent basis.” Roman stood, indicating the meeting had come to an end.

Morgan also stood. “Julia has probably already started the process of locating a genetics group to buy out. If I know her, she’ll be putting together prospectuses for our directors that will be ready by the end of week.” He swept his hand in a motion to indicate the business office. “So this the facility Aventine Industries is working on acquiring?”

Roman nodded. “Yes, Aventine Industries is already moving forward with a purchase option for SeaQuence Labs.”

Reaching forward to shake Dr. Barnes hand, Morgan said, “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. This has been most enlightening. We all have a lot of work ahead of us. Let me know if you want to run some tests on Palatine DNA to confirm any of your findings and ensure this is not an Aventine specific anomaly.”

“Thank you for offering. Would you mind giving me a sample right now?” she asked.

“You need blood?”

“I can take blood, hair, urine, spit. A buccal swab is the easiest and the cleanest,” she explained. “I’ll be right back.” She stepped out of her office.

Roman clapped him on the back. “I’m going to leave you here. Let you do your swab test. I will have a car called for you to take you back to your hotel in San Francisco. I have more meetings on this side of the bay this afternoon, so no need for you to wait on me, right?” He stuck out his hand for Morgan to shake.

“Right.” Morgan shook the offered hand. “Aventine, you’re not what I expected, based on your father’s reputation.”

“Thank God. That old wolf is a bit too antiquated for my tastes. But he’s the boss.”

Morgan chuckled. He knew that sentiment, but now he was the boss. “I’m sure Julia will be in contact soon regarding the specifics.”

“I look forward to it.”

Morgan stood waiting for Dr. Barnes to return after Aventine left.

She directed him to open his mouth while she ran a cotton swab over the inside of his cheek. He obliged her then filled out a short form identifying the swab as his.

Dr. Barnes thanked him, then guided him back out to the lobby.

The receptionist confirmed a car had been called and would arrive shortly. Her sneer indicated she was not as impressed with Morgan as she had been with Roman Aventine.

Morgan waited less than five minutes before the receptionist approached him letting him know that his car had arrived. Morgan slid into the back of the black Lincoln Town Car and told the driver which hotel to take him to in San Francisco. He settled back in his seat and began texting Julia notes from his second meeting with Aventine and the doctor. Morgan’s large thumbs made typing awkward on the phone’s small keyboard display. Most of what he sent Julia was ideas and the related obstacles that might prevent a course of action from being viable.

Identification was always something they had to be careful with. Family members who couldn’t change still had to be welcomed into the fold, else they might feel ostracized and feel the need for retaliation of some kind.

Now to have confirmation they could be traced on a genetic level brought with it a whole new set of concerns for all his kind. His kind. They had lived, hiding in plain sight for centuries. They weren’t even certain they were the only type of shifter out there. Rumors of others surfaced from time to time certainly, but never confirmation. And they were not exactly the werewolf of legend, but certainly wolf-shifters. They had a level of control and could decide when to change. They did not rely on the magic of the moon for their shifting abilities. That did not mean there were not werewolves out there that the moon controlled, but if they existed they remained well hidden. Just as the Palatine family had. Just as the Aventines had.

Morgan made a quick note to contact Dr. Barnes and have her on the look-out for other potential shifter races. Race. Was Wolf now a race? Was that even the correct term? Wasn’t race considered purely a social construct? Wolf as ethnicity, a sub-species, a scientific classification? Morgan had always thought of himself as Californian, which superseded his Italian and Portuguese heritage. Of course, he had always figured the arguments and one-upmanship was wolf, pack order, and not the typical, hot-blooded, Mediterranean heritage. Most likely the hot headed temperament came from both.

Always heavy, traffic was noticeably slower for this time of day approaching the bridge. The interior of the car grew dark. He looked up. They were boxed in between two semis, not moving in the traffic jam. Normally, this wouldn’t have fazed Morgan, but this time, something felt off. He leaned forward to speak to the driver. A sharp ppst sound popped in Morgan’s ears, and the driver slumped over the steering wheel. The windshield shattered and a canister dropped onto the front passenger seat.

Morgan grabbed for the door handle and shoved against his door. Crap! The door would not open. A low hiss sounded, followed by billowing white clouds of pungent, chemical-smelling smoke that filled the interior of the car. Morgan covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and threw himself against the door again.

In seconds, all went black.