NINETEEN
IT WAS COLD ON THE other side of the portal. Fresh
winter air nipped at my skin. I took a deep breath, letting the icy
wind pour down my throat. The resulting visceral shudder reached
into my very bones, making me feel alive. I ached to run, to howl,
to hunt. I watched my breath curl like smoke in front of my
eyes.
I glanced behind me
and saw Shay’s hazy image pacing before the open doorway. I wished
I could reach out and reassure him in some way. When Monroe had
given the order, I’d leapt through the portal without a backward
glance, not wanting to show any doubts about our mission. Now I
regretted not giving him something: a smile at least, or another
kiss. I only felt worse when I realized Adne had been the last
person to kiss him. She stood beside the portal, swords drawn and
face serene as Connor and Ethan scouted the alley.
“Aren’t you worried
someone will see the light?” I asked, gesturing to the shimmering
portal.
“There aren’t any
windows in this part of the alley,” Adne replied. “That’s why we
chose it.”
Her words left me
only a bit reassured. At least the door wasn’t as bright as it was
during the weaving, but it was still noticeable, like the twinkling
of Christmas lights. It was close enough to the holiday that I
hoped we’d be lucky and anyone who saw it would assume that’s what
it was.
“We’re clear,” Ethan
said, reappearing from the dark alley. “No obstacles or patrol
between here and the side door.”
Connor didn’t speak,
his eyes scanning the shadows.
“Good,” Monroe said.
“Let’s move.”
Ethan took point
with Monroe, and I shifted into wolf form, padding along the alley
on silent paws while Connor brought up the rear. My heartbeat
thrummed in my veins, so deafening to my sensitive wolf ears that I
could hardly believe it wasn’t audible to the Searchers. None of
them spoke or even looked at me. Each of the men’s faces was set as
they stalked silently along the narrow corridor.
When we reached the
side door, Monroe raised his arm.
“Alarm?”
“No,” Ethan said.
“Just the lock.”
“On it.” Connor
pulled something metal from his pocket and moved to the
door.
Ethan took up his
position guarding our flank.
There was a click
and a groan when the door swung open. Monroe and Connor were
through the entrance instantly, dropping low, waiting for an
attack.
None
came.
They exchanged a
glance but gestured for us to follow. Ethan closed the door behind
us.
We slipped down the
hallway. My gut twisted, remembering the walk along this hall to
Efron’s office. Was the Bane master here now? I lifted my muzzle,
testing the air. The club reeked of stale sweat peppered by the
lingering, sickly-sweet scent of succubus breath. I pawed at my
nose, wishing I could rid myself of the noxious
mixture.
As far as I could
tell, there were no new scents, nor any movement, in the club. The
pounding bass and blur of colorful lights had been replaced by
silence and gloom. No dancers, no succubus go-go girls, no
Guardians. The only sound was the muffled beat of the Searchers’
footfalls as we crept forward through the shadows. I didn’t find
our apparent solitude reassuring. There was too much silence, too
much stillness for a place like Eden that fed off the pulse of
blood and lust.
“Here are the
stairs,” Connor whispered. He stood at the top of a wrought-iron
spiral staircase. I leaned over the railing, watching the tight
coil of metal drop down into a bottomless pit of
darkness.
“No lights?” Ethan
asked.
“Not yet,” Connor
said, beginning his descent.
The stairs led down,
and down, and down. The sharply turning circle of steps made me
dizzy. The darkness enveloped us, making it seem as though I’d
closed my eyes and started spinning.
Even with my ability
to peer through the darkness, the descent set me on edge. I was
grateful when a fluorescent light appeared, growing brighter as we
moved down the stairs, washing our surroundings in a greenish gray.
The spiral staircase pulled us further into the club’s depths. I
felt like we’d been walking forever. How far into the earth had we
traveled?
“This must be it,”
Connor said, at last stepping free of the iron staircase into a
square room that had probably been painted white but with time had
succumbed to the dingy shade of cobwebs. He’d taken another step
when a dark shape lunged from the shadows behind the staircase,
knocking him down and sending his sword flying into the
corner.
Behind me Ethan
swore, throwing himself over the railing and dropping to the floor
while I pushed past Monroe to lunge at the wolf. Ethan fired bolts
into the Guardian who had Connor pinned to the concrete as I sank
my teeth into its unguarded flank. The wolf snarled and thrashed
its head about as the bolts lodged in its shoulders. Baring its
teeth, the wolf snapped at me, but I easily dodged, crouching to
make a second lunge.
With the Guardian’s
attention diverted, Connor pulled a katara from his belt, thrusting
the short blade into the wolf’s belly and twisting. The Guardian
yelped before its whine became a gurgle. It slumped across Connor,
unmoving. Connor shoved the wolf’s corpse off him. Ethan held his
crossbow at the ready, scanning the room.
“Only one?” Monroe
asked, coming toward us with his swords drawn.
“For now,” Ethan
said, lowering his weapon.
“Lucky us.” Connor
wiped blood off his hands. I went to his side, peering at the wolf
that lay dead near him. It was an elder Bane, but not a stranger.
This one I knew: Sabine’s father. They’d just killed Sabine’s
father.
I shifted forms,
shaking my head.
“You okay?” Connor
asked.
“Something isn’t
right,” I said, eyes flicking through the small room, uneasy to be
human when danger was so near. “That wolf shouldn’t be
here.”
“What do you mean?”
Monroe asked. “I’d be surprised if a Guardian wasn’t posted here.
In fact I am surprised we’ve
encountered only one.”
“No,” I said,
struggling against the way my gut had begun to pitch back and
forth. “It’s this wolf. I know him . . . knew him. He doesn’t work
security for Efron; he’s a mountain patrol Guardian. Like the
wolves in my pack.”
“Couldn’t they have
shuffled positions?” Ethan asked.
“That doesn’t
happen,” I said. “Not with the mountain packs.”
“I’d wager a lot
might have changed since your disappearing act,” Connor
muttered.
“Maybe.” I felt
unsteady as I stared at the dead wolf. He
shouldn’t be here. I know he shouldn’t.
“We’ll be alert,
Calla,” Monroe said, guiding me away from the body. “But we need to
keep moving; it took us longer to get down here than I’d
anticipated. We can’t lose any time. I’m sorry it was someone you
knew.”
Behind the spiraling
stairs was a single door. Connor tried the knob, then pulled out
his lock-picking tool. He carefully opened the door, revealing a
narrow hall lit by the same buzzing fluorescents. There were six
doors in the hall, one at each end and two on each side. The side
doors were harsh metallic rectangles cut by a narrow slot at eye
level.
“What now?” Ethan
asked.
“We start opening
doors,” Monroe said. “We can each pick locks; everyone try a
door.”
“No, wait.” I
grabbed Monroe’s arm. “Just follow me.”
I shifted forms,
keeping my muzzle low, sniffing along the hall. When I reached the
far door on the right side of the hall, I whimpered, scratching the
metal surface.
“This one?” Monroe
asked.
I whimpered again,
desperate to get through the door. Every beat of my heart throbbed
in my neck as Monroe picked the lock. I couldn’t breathe as the
door swung open.
Two young men sat,
leaning against opposite walls of the cell. Chains bound their
wrists to the walls, keeping them apart, their movements limited.
They remained still, eyes closed. Remnants of clothing hung from
their bodies. Torn pants, shredded shirts. Both of their faces were
a muddle of bruises and swollen flesh, green, purple, red. A
sickening rainbow painted on their skin.
The light in their
cell flickered constantly, making the room waver as I stared
inside.
I yelped, dashing
into the room.
Mason’s eyelids
flipped up at the sound of my cry. He slowly turned his head,
squinting at me.
“No
way.”
Nev groaned, keeping
his own eyes shut. “Just tell me when it’s over.”
“Calla?” Mason
leaned toward me, wincing.
I licked his face,
shifting into human form so I could speak. “Mason. It’s me. I’m
getting you out of here.”
“Seriously?” Mason
regarded me as if I might be a figment of his
imagination.
“Calla?” Nev’s eyes
were open now.
“You mean she’s
real?” Mason reached up, chains scraping the concrete floor, and
touched my face. “Oh my God.”
“Can you walk?”
Monroe had come to our side, crouching to address
Mason.
“Who are you?” Mason
frowned, his nose crinkling. “Hey! You’re a Searcher. What the
hell!”
“It’s okay, Mason,”
I said, taking his hand. “They’re on our side.”
“Searchers? On our
side?” Nev laughed. “Maybe she’s not real.”
“I’m real,” I said
quickly, feeling the press of time. “Please answer him. Can you
walk?”
“I think so,” Mason
said, stretching his legs. “I haven’t tried in a while. Are you
going to tell us how you got here? And why the Searchers are
helping you?”
“After we’ve put
miles between us and Vail,” Connor said. “Story time can
wait.”
“He’s right—but
later, I promise, this will make sense.”
“As long as we’re
out of this hellhole, it doesn’t have to make sense,” Nev said,
covering his eyes.
“I don’t know that
we’ll be much good to you,” Mason said. “I haven’t been able to
shift since they put us in here.”
“It’s the chains,” I
said, touching the iron at his wrist. “You’ll be able to shift once
they’re off.”
“Connor,” Monroe
said, gesturing to Nev. “Get him out of the
restraints.”
Monroe bent down to
free Mason.
“I don’t know if
that’s a good idea,” Ethan said, glancing warily at the two chained
Guardians.
“What are you going
to do, shoot them?” I snapped. “Do you even remember why we’re
here?”
“Our rescuers want
to kill us, huh?” Mason asked, noting that Ethan’s crossbow was
trained on his chest. “Nice.”
“Well, it fits the
way everything else has been going lately,” Nev said. “I’d say I’m
surprised, but I’d be lying.”
“They aren’t going
to kill you.” I glared at Ethan until he slowly lowered his
weapon.
“What if—” he
began.
“What if it’s a
trick?” I said. “Look at them. How are they going to fight like
this? I’m worried we won’t be able to get them out in one
piece.”
“That makes two of
us,” Connor said. “And here I was hoping for wolf reinforcements as
we went along.”
“If there’s a fight,
we’ll fight,” Nev growled as the chains dropped away from his arms.
Then he was a wolf, snarling while he limped toward
Mason.
“Oh, man.” Ethan
backed away, raising the crossbow.
“Knock it off!” I
said. “They aren’t your enemies.”
The moment he was
freed, Mason shifted too. The two wolves circled each other,
sniffing, licking, nuzzling, and finding comfort through their
contact. I watched, longing to join them but wanting to let them
have their own moment of reunion.
“Whoa,” Ethan
murmured as Mason bared his teeth, sinking fangs into Nev’s
shoulder, lapping up the blood that poured out.
“It’s okay,” I said
quietly. “They’ll heal if they do this now. Then they can fight
with us.”
Nev took blood from
Mason’s chest; I could sense the power of their bond flowing
through the room, replacing their wounds with
strength.
“Glad that worked,”
Connor said, apparently sensing the tension in the room lift in the
same way I did. “But we need to move.”
Ethan was frowning.
“Hang on.”
“What?” Connor
asked.
“The blood thing is
going to be a problem.” Ethan turned to me. “How the hell are you
going to kill any of the others?”
My brow knit
together. “What are you talking about?”
“If you wolves take
bites out of each other, won’t you just heal up anytime you
swallow?”
I had to work hard
not to punch him in the face.
“That’s not how it
works,” Monroe said.
I glanced at him,
startled, though given his connection to an attempted Guardian
revolt, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d already
uncovered the secrets of pack healing.
With my hands on my
hips, I glared at Ethan. “It’s not just drinking Guardian blood
that heals wounds. The blood has to be gifted; otherwise it’s just
blood.”
“Gifted?” Ethan
stared at me.
Mason had been
watching the exchange. He shifted into human form.
“She’s right,” he
said. “It can’t be taken. The blood must be offered to invoke its
healing power.” The bruises on his face weren’t gone, but they’d
faded considerably.
“That’s much, much
better.” He smiled, holding his arms out to me. I flung myself into
his embrace.
“I’m glad you’re
safe,” he said. “I pretty much thought you were dead.”
“Gifted,” Ethan
murmured again, his expression fixed somewhere between puzzlement
and wonder.
Nev remained a wolf,
standing at Mason’s side protectively, but when I smiled at him, he
wagged his tail.
I pointed to the
Searchers. “Connor and Ethan, meet Mason and Nev. Monroe is in
charge. He’s helped Guardians before.”
Mason’s eyebrows
went up.
I shook my head.
“Like I said, I’ll explain later. Where are the
others?”
“I don’t know,” he
said. “They moved us around a lot. Kept separating us, rearranging
us. We’ve always been in pairs.”
He paused,
swallowing. “They must’ve thought we’d break faster if we had to
watch another packmate being taken by a wraith. Nev and I have been
in the same room for a while now, but I haven’t been able to keep
clear track of the days. I don’t know how long it’s been since I
saw any of the others.”
“Do you think
they’re still alive?” Monroe asked.
“Yeah.” Mason
sighed. “The Keepers don’t have quiet executions. If they killed
another wolf for what happened, we’d have been dragged out to watch
it.”
He turned sad eyes
on me. “Your mom, Calla. I . . . I’m sorry—”
“I know,” I
murmured, cutting him off as a lump rose in my throat. “Ansel told
me. He found us.”
“Is he okay?” Mason
paled. “What they did to him . . .”
“He’s in rough
shape,” I said. “But he’s safe.”
“You said they moved
you around,” Monroe interrupted. “Where?”
“There are four cell
blocks down here,” Mason said. “Each is set off of the
Chamber.”
“What’s the
Chamber?” Ethan asked.
“Where violence
becomes a spectacle,” Mason said, smiling grimly. “I’ve been
writing a song about it in my head. You know, to pass the time.
It’s where they killed Naomi.”
Mason took my hand
when I cringed. “And where they punished Ansel . . . and
Ren.”
When he said Ren’s
name, his eyes met mine, full of questions. My blood ran hot, pulse
racing with the need to find him.
“We need to check
those other blocks,” Monroe said, his voice tinged with the same
urgency I felt. “Let’s go.”
Connor checked the
last cell in that block, finding it empty. Mason and Nev were the
only prisoners here.
“I guess it’s door
number five, then,” Connor said, moving to the door at the opposite
end of the hall from where we’d entered.
The wolf at Mason’s
side, his coat a mixture of copper and steel gray, began to
snarl.
“What’s the matter
with your guard dog?” Ethan asked.
Monroe threw him a
stern look.
“No offense
intended,” Ethan added quickly.
“That leads to the
Chamber,” Mason said, his hands beginning to shake.
“Is there another
way to access the other cell blocks?” Monroe asked.
Mason shook his
head.
“Open the door,
Connor,” Monroe said.