The Last Werewolf in History

Chapter 11

Knuckles rapped against the metal door panel. Three taps. A dull thud.

Rainwater dripped from the hem of his trench coat, spreading into dark patches on the doormat. The scent of blood, mingled with the smell of rust, stung his nostrils.

The door cracked open. A sliver of white light cut through the gap, illuminating half of Qin Lie's face.

Su Hongxiu held a pair of hemostatic forceps in her hand. Upon recognizing her visitor, her wrist gave a start; the forceps slipped from her grasp and clattered into a metal tray with a sharp ring.

"Come in."

She stepped aside. The space was narrow; their shoulders brushed against one another. Qin Lie stepped across the threshold, but his knees went weak, forcing him to brace himself against the wall. The plaster felt cold beneath his palm—a chill that seeped deep into his flesh.

Su Hongxiu reached back to lock the door. The bolt slid home with a distinct *click*.

"The operating table."

She asked neither how he had sustained his injuries, nor where Old K was. Instead, she turned to switch on the lights. The shadowless lamp flared to life, its low hum settling into the background.

Qin Lie hoisted himself onto the table. The cold metal surface sent a jolt of shock through him. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to the wound; peeling it away tore a layer of skin along with it.

Su Hongxiu pulled on a pair of gloves. The latex snapped taut against her wrists with a sharp *pop*.

She slid a pair of scissors beneath his collar, cutting away the fabric along the edges of the wound. Strips of cloth fluttered to the floor, piling up around his feet.

The wound was located on his left flank. The flesh was torn and gaping—deep enough to expose the bone beneath. Its edges were tinged with an unnatural, sickly blue-black hue.

She pressed an alcohol-soaked cotton swab against the wound.

Qin Lie's abdominal muscles tensed. His Adam's apple bobbed, yet he uttered not a sound.

Su Hongxiu began debriding the necrotic tissue. Her movements were swift and steady. With a pair of forceps, she extracted a deformed bullet casing and dropped it into a kidney dish. *Clang*.

"There's something wrong with this wound."

She stared intently at the injury.

Blood was still flowing, yet the rate of flow was abnormally slow. Stranger still were the fine, hair-like tendrils sprouting from the wound's periphery. They were visibly thickening and darkening—growing with the wild, unbridled vigor of some invasive w**d.

Qin Lie reached out to cover the wound.

"Don't move."

Su Hongxiu pressed her hand firmly against the back of his. Her touch was gentle, yet carried a palpable weight.

"It's healing too fast."

She looked up, her gaze locking directly onto Qin Lie's eyes. Deep within his pupils, a faint golden glint still lingered.

Qin Lie froze. His muscles tensed, poised to spring into action at any moment.

Su Hongxiu did not retreat. Instead, she leaned in closer—her nose nearly brushing against his neck.

"Heart rate: one hundred and twenty. Body temperature: thirty-nine point five degrees."

She released her grip, then turned to fetch a suturing needle.

"A normal person sustaining an injury like this would have gone into shock."

The thread pierced the skin. A knot was tied. The thread was snipped.

"You are no ordinary person."

Qin Lie remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling. One of the filaments was broken, flickering with a faint, unsteady glow.

"The Silver Cross Society is right behind me."

"I know."

Su Hongxiu lowered her head to dress the wound. She wound the gauze around and around, pulling it taut.

"They chased me for three blocks."

"So you shook them off before finding your way here."

It was not a question.

Qin Lie offered no denial.

The final strip of medical tape was applied. Su Hongxiu peeled off her gloves and tossed them into the yellow biohazard bin.

"Go sit over there."

She pointed toward a sofa in the corner. The leather was old and worn, dust lodged deep within its cracks.

Qin Lie rose to his feet. His steps were unsteady, yet he managed to keep his balance.

Su Hongxiu poured a cup of hot water and handed it to him.

The cup was scalding to the touch. Wisps of white steam rose from it, blurring his vision.

"My father used to be a demon hunter, too."

Su Hongxiu leaned against the examination table, her arms crossed over her chest.

Qin Lie's hand—the one holding the cup—paused mid-motion.

"He did it for twenty years," Su Hongxiu said, gazing out the window. "Then he walked away."

"Why?"

"Conscience."

Su Hongxiu gave a slight tug at the corners of her mouth—though it could hardly be called a smile.

"He realized that some things shouldn't be killed. That some orders shouldn't be obeyed."

She turned her head, her gaze locking directly with his.

"Just like you."

Qin Lie said nothing. He simply took a sip of water, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"The Silver Cross Society views us as tools," Su Hongxiu remarked, walking over to the window. Her fingers traced a path across the glass pane. "To be discarded once they've served their purpose."

Outside, the rain continued to fall. The streetlights cast a dim, sickly yellow glow—a light that failed to penetrate the impenetrable darkness beneath it. "Your father is now..."

"Dead."

Su Hongxiu's tone was flat—as if she were speaking of someone else's affairs.

"A car accident. Someone tampered with the brakes."

Qin Lie set down his cup. The porcelain base tapped lightly against the coffee table.

"So, you're helping me."

"I need information," Su Hongxiu turned around. "You need sanctuary."

"A trade."

"A partnership."

Su Hongxiu corrected him.

She walked back to stand before Qin Lie and held out her hand.

Palm upward. The lines on it were clearly defined.

Qin Lie stared at her hand for a few seconds.

Then, he reached out and grasped it.

Her palm was dry and warm.

"Keep the wound away from water for three days," Su Hongxiu said, withdrawing her hand. "The medicine is on the table; apply it once in the morning and once at night."

Qin Lie nodded. He rose to his feet.

He walked to the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Wait."

Su Hongxiu spoke up suddenly.

She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open just enough to create a narrow slit.

Across the street outside, a dark shadow flickered past.

No one was there—only the sound of windshield wipers sweeping across glass.

"We're being watched."

Su Hongxiu let the curtains fall back into place.

"Leaving now would be suicide."

Qin Lie withdrew his hand and leaned his back against the door.

"How many?"

"At least one sniper," Su Hongxiu said, pointing to the upper-left corner of the window. "I caught a reflection."

Qin Lie followed the direction of her gaze. In the corner of the glass, a faint glint of light winked out.

"I can't leave tonight."

"Then don't."

Su Hongxiu took a key from a drawer and tossed it to Qin Lie.

"There's a lounge in the back. The bed is clean."

Qin Lie caught the key; the metal felt cold against his skin.

"What about you?"

"I'm on duty."

Su Hongxiu sat back down at her examination desk and turned on her computer. The blue glow of the screen cast an eerie light across her face.

"If you hear anything, let me know."

Qin Lie remained motionless.

"Thanks."

"Just try not to die in my clinic."

Su Hongxiu didn't even lift her head. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, the rapid *clack-clack* of the keys filling the room.

Qin Lie turned around and headed toward the back room.

His footsteps were light, landing without a sound.

The door closed firmly behind him. The sound of the rain outside was shut out.

Su Hongxiu stopped typing, her gaze fixed on the surveillance feed on her screen.

Six cameras. Five were functioning normally.

One, however, was displaying static.

She zoomed in on the image.

A street corner. A black sedan. Engine off. Lights out.

Someone was inside.

Su Hongxiu reached beneath her desk, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

It rang once. Then she hung up.

She glanced toward the door to the back room.

A sliver of light seeped from beneath the doorframe. It vanished almost immediately.

Qin Lie had lain down to rest.

Su Hongxiu averted her gaze and opened another folder.

The label read: "Wolf-Breed Optimization Project."

The document was encrypted. She entered the password three times; each time, it was rejected.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Then, she opened them again.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Outside the window, thunder rumbled past, making the glass hum with vibration.

The lights in the clinic flickered.

But they did not go out.

Su Hongxiu resumed typing.

The cursor on the screen blinked.

Like a heartbeat.

Like a countdown.

From the back room came the sound of someone shifting position.

The springs of the mattress creaked.

Su Hongxiu's hands froze.

She listened for three seconds.

The breathing remained steady.

She opened a new window.

A map. The Old Quarter.

Red dots were blinking.

Three of them.

One was located on the street adjacent to the clinic.

The other two were on the move.

Heading this way.

Su Hongxiu closed the window.

She rose from her seat and retrieved a scalpel from a cabinet.

Its handle was textured for a non-slip grip; its blade gleamed with a cold, sharp light.

She placed it beside the keyboard.

And went back to work.

The rain intensified.

It drummed against the glass.

Like countless fingers clawing at the pane.

Trying to get in.