Ethan pov
Finding the supplier took longer than finding Reed.
The license plate I’d photographed belonged to a shell company that no longer existed. The medical case had no identifying marks. The man beneath the baseball cap seemed to have vanished the moment he left the garage.
It forced me to work backward, but Money left traces and so did products.
Especially products that weren’t supposed to exist.
Three evenings later I found what I was looking for. Not in Hopkins or in White Creek, but in an old regulatory report buried inside the archives of another territory.
The description matched perfectly: a wolf-suppressing elixir, banned outright in White Creek territory, capable of sedating a shifter’s inner wolf to dangerous, sometimes irreversible degrees.
Manufacture prohibited. Di
