Kenzie had little interest in Turner’s family and problems at the moment. “Why the hell am I here?” she asked.

“You being here is not my doing. I have found a way to stabilize this gate, yes, but you blundered into it all on your own, chasing that cop. The mists opened to you, so they must have wanted you here, for whatever reason. The gates can be very powerful. But I am glad to see you. Brigid I trapped on purpose. She has the equivalent of what we would call a doctorate in genetics. She’s amazing. You are a strong Shifter, an alpha female. Your DNA will be of great use to me.”

Turner’s words indicated he knew nothing about Gil not being a human cop. Interesting. “If you already have my blood and fur, you have my DNA,” Kenzie said. “I’d like to know how to get out of this place, whatever it is.”

“It’s a world out of time,” Turner said. “Or something like that. I’m not sure. It’s a different plane of existence anyway. I haven’t explored it much—I only know how to access it. A good place to keep you and Brigid—much better than a cage or a locked room, and much harder for anyone but me to find.”

“I found it,” Kenzie said. “That means my mate or my friends could find it too.”

“No, you chanced upon it. That cop is very interested in you, Kenzie, in a sexual way, I’d say. You know, it was once thought that Shifters and humans couldn’t produce viable offspring, but that idea has been proved wrong many times in the last twenty years. A professor from Chicago presented a paper on it at the last symposium I attended.”

“Shifters don’t exist for your entertainment,” Kenzie said irritably.

“Ah, but you know, entertainment was another reason they were first created. To fight and hunt, yes, but also to perform tricks—Fae would boast to each other how clever their Shifters were. Fae also used them as sex partners, sometimes in their animal forms, if they had such a fetish.”

Kenzie hoped to the Goddess Turner didn’t. But he spoke with only clinical interest, a curious side note he’d found during his studies.

“Such a thing might be strange to you and me,” Turner went on, “but Fae are almost as fascinating to me as Shifters. Not quite.” He sent a smile to Brigid that looked apologetic. “I didn’t even know of their existence until after I figured out that Shifters were real. Even though my first findings were scorned, I continued hunting for evidence of Shifters. Found other places with similar stories to the ones in Ireland and traveled to them. During my journeys I met a man—I thought he was a man at the time—who believed me about the magical shape-shifting people. He promised to show me more. He took me to Morocco, in the Atlas mountains, up to where a small pack of wolves lived. There were two mated pairs, a few cubs, and an older male who was the obvious leader.”

He relaxed his stance, warming to his story. “We hid and watched as they milled around, doing whatever social things wolves do, then, before my eyes, the older leader suddenly turned into a man. I couldn’t believe it. All this time—I’d been right. I missed the actual transition, I was so amazed, but I photographed the Shifter man talking to the other wolves, being nuzzled by them, acting as one of them.

“This fellow who’d brought me up there at last revealed that he was half Fae. He helped me. He taught me much about Shifters, and also about the Fae and their magic. He gave me talismans and showed me how to move through the mists. He has passed on now, sadly, but I believe his son is helping humans understand and control Shifters. I’ve learned so much since that day in the mountains, and at last, I am being recognized for my expertise on Shifters. I’m up for full professorship, finally, after all these years. This last research is going to make me famous.”

He paused for breath, and Kenzie asked cautiously, “What research?”

“The creation of Shifters. For human purposes. How wonderful to have an army of the beasts at our fingertips. We could breed select soldiers with them to produce the best of both, half Shifters with human savvy as well as Shifter strength.”

“That’s already been tried,” Kenzie pointed out. “In Area 51, years ago. It didn’t work.”

Turner nodded. “Yes, I know. I even helped start up that project, but they were on the wrong track, and I left. They were attempting to create Shifters by scientific means alone, breeding them in petri dishes.” He made a noise of disgust. “Of course it didn’t work. They were missing the ingredient they didn’t believe in: magic. More specifically, good old-fashioned Fae magic from the dawn of time.”

“Hardly the dawn of time,” Brigid broke in. “Humans had already created far-flung military empires in the places you call Rome and China by the time we perfected the spells and techniques to produce the battle beasts.”

“What you’re doing won’t work either,” Kenzie said to Turner. “Unless that half Fae taught you the magic.”

Turner gave her a chill smile. “He did. It is difficult for me to work it myself, but then I caught a Fae. She is quite good at it.”

Brigid remained stiff with scorn. “I have no choice but to help him,” she told Kenzie. “Though I would rather lay out his guts and bathe in his blood.”

Kenzie would rather she did too. “So you’re trying to create mythical monsters in order to get a promotion at work?” she asked.

“What an amusing way of putting it,” Turner said, his eyes like cold glass. “The large beasts are proving to be difficult to control and physiologically unstable. I’ve been trying to find a true Shifter for my breeding program, but Shifters protect themselves and their cubs so rigidly you’re difficult to get near. But now, a Shifter has tumbled into the mists, and I have her.”