Wolfsbane (22 page)

FIFTEEN

I DIDN̓̕’T THINK I COULD
get any colder, but as Monroe’s words settled around us, I could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped.

It was Shay who cleared his throat, speaking slowly. “What do you mean, we’re going to save her pack?”

Monroe didn’t answer.

Shay wouldn’t look at me. “I hate to say it, but Ren obviously knew the risk he was taking when he made those choices, which means he understands the bigger picture. He was wil ing to make that sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” I hated how often that word was cropping up in my life. My mother had been sacrificed. My brother seemed to think he’d be better off if he’d been kil ed as wel . I couldn’t bear the thought that Ren would soon number among the casualties that I’d created by saving Shay.

“No.” I glared at them. “Ren is not a sacrifice. We are going to Vail to get him.”

Ansel was nodding even as he continued rocking back and forth where he sat. Shay refused to meet my eyes.

“Going to Vail to do what?” Shay asked. “Get kil ed? Look how wel your last trip went!”

“Shay,” Monroe said. “We can’t leave the young wolves to the Keepers. It would be cruel. We could stil bring a few of them back—salvage this al iance.

It just won’t happen as quickly as we’d hoped.”

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” Shay said. “You’re the ones who keep tel ing us this is a war. Wars make casualties.”

Monroe kept his eyes on Ansel. “They are children. It’s different.”

“Children?” Shay’s laugh was harsh. “We’re talking about the other alpha. I know Cal a’s young, but I wouldn’t cal her a child. Renier Laroche is no different. He knew what he was doing. It’s over.”

“How can you say that?” I glared at Shay. “The only reason he might die is because he was trying to save us!”

“I’m being honest,” he replied cool y. “If we go to Vail, it wil be a bloodbath. You can’t take that risk. I won’t let you.”

“Won’t let me! Who the hel do you think you are?”

Blood roared in my veins; my teeth were so sharp they pierced the surface of my tongue as I shouted.

I whirled to face Monroe. “We cannot leave him!”

Monroe grasped my hand. “We wil not leave him, Cal a. You have my word.”

“How can you say that?” Shay was shouting now.

“What could possibly justify a suicide mission like this one?!”

“He loves Cal a,” Monroe said quietly. “He already risked his life to save her. He won’t betray her. He’l die for her.”

Guilt ripped through my bel y like a knife. Shay swore under his breath.

“You can’t know that,” he said, fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a Guardian. I’ve seen what they can do.

I’ve read their history. They’ve fol owed the Keepers without question for centuries. Ren is one of them.”

Monroe turned on Shay, his jaw tightening. “He is not just a Guardian. He’s Corrine’s son. She changed her mind. So wil he.”

“Corrine is dead,” Shay hissed. “Forget your love story, old man.”

A solid crack sounded when Monroe’s fist met Shay’s jaw and sent him hurtling across the floor.

Adne gasped and crouched next to Shay where he’d fal en. Ethan came to Monroe’s side, lips thin and eyes mysterious.

“Come on, Dad,” Adne murmured. She must have been upset because I’d never heard her cal Monroe anything other than his name. “Please be reasonable. Shay’s just afraid for Cal a. He loves her too.”

Make that real y upset. That was the first time she’d ever acknowledged Shay’s feelings for me. It might have been reassuring, but I was too angry with Shay for her words to affect me. Even if it was because he loved me, he had no right to stop me from helping my pack.

“We’re clearly past reason,” Shay grumbled, and rubbed his jaw as Adne helped him to his feet.

“I’m sorry.” Monroe shook his head slowly, staring at his stil clenched fist.

Connor glanced at my stunned expression once and scrambled to stand between me and Monroe, and Adne and Shay.

“Look,” he said. “The last thing we need is to fal apart. We’re al on the same side.”

“You could have fooled me,” Shay muttered.

“Cool it, Chosen One.” Connor smiled wryly. “If you’re serious about changing things, about making the world better, we have to help the Guardians.

Their lives are hel ; we have to get them out of there.

And Monroe’s right. Even getting a few out could be the first steps toward an al iance. We have to start somewhere.”

Monroe nodded.

“Ethan,” Shay said. “Help me out here.”

“I know you’re the Scion and al , kid,” Ethan murmured. “But I think Monroe and the wolf girl are right. We should go in, and soon.”

“You’re the last person I expected to sign on to People for the Ethical Treatment of Guardians.”

Connor laughed.

Ethan smiled at Connor before glancing at Ansel, who was stil hunched over, pitiful, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I think I may have misjudged them.”

“And how do you propose we help them without losing everything?” Shay asked, rubbing his bruised jaw.

My heart skipped a beat when al the Searchers looked at me. But it was Adne who spoke.

“Me.”

“What?” Monroe broke out of his mournful reverie to glance at her, his eyes sharp and alarmed.

“Stealth extraction just before dawn. That stil gives us a few hours to prepare. Take a smal team. I’l open an inside door.”

“No.” Monroe’s face paled.

“Every Weaver has to successful y create an inside door in order to take up a post,” she said. “I passed al the exams. You have my papers. I can do it.”

“What’s this?” Shay frowned.

Ethan smiled at Adne. “Clever girl.”

“No,” Monroe said again, taking a step toward his daughter. “Inside doors are for emergencies only.

They aren’t meant to be used by a strike team.”

“What’s an inside door?” I asked.

Adne faced me, eyes bright. “That’s what we cal a portal that is opened in a place that the Weaver hasn’t seen. You have to create the door based on your own mental image of the site you’ve targeted with only sketchy information to go on.”

She turned back to Monroe. “In this case it offers the perfect element of surprise, which we need.”

“It’s against protocol,” Monroe said. “I won’t al ow it.”

“The protocol is moronic,” Adne said. “I can get a team in and out. It’s the only way.”

She glared at Monroe. “It would have saved Stuart and Kyle.”

Monroe’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak.

Connor put his hand on Adne’s shoulder. “That’s a big risk, kiddo. You sure about this?”

She nodded, but Monroe shook his head. “I forbid any further discussion on this matter. It’s out of the question. Protecting the Weaver is a team’s first priority.”

Adne’s laugh was haughty. “You were wil ing to throw everything away five seconds ago. This isn’t about protocol, it’s about me. Give it up, Monroe. I’m offering you the only feasible strategy and you know it.”

Monroe stared at her, his eyes tight.

Her voice dropped low. “Please, I can do this. Let me help them.”

Ethan looked at Monroe. “She’s right. It’s the only way this might work. It wil probably stil be a total disaster.”

“It would have to be a very smal team,” Connor said, his eyes on Adne.

“How smal ?” Shay frowned at him. “I mean not counting those of us here now.”

“You’re not going,” Connor said curtly. “You’re the Scion. If you die, we al die.”

Monroe expel ed a long breath. “The Scion won’t go. Adne, you can open a door near Eden, but not inside.”

“But that might not be enough,” she countered.

“An inside door in the club would be suicide. The risk that we’d lose and both Weaver and portal would be compromised is far too great,” he said.

“And we just learned about the location of this detention site. You’d be going in blind. I won’t risk it.

Across the street from wherever he’s being held or in an al ey. We’l strike from there, make the extraction, and get out again.”

“Who’s going?” Shay asked. He didn’t look happy, but the outrage had fled his eyes.

“Only volunteers,” Monroe said. “This isn’t coming from the Arrow. It’s personal. We won’t be going back to the Academy; the strike wil happen one hour before dawn. Whoever is coming, you should get some rest or whatever else you need to do before we reassemble then.”

Ethan cleared his throat. “I’l go.”

I couldn’t stop my snort of disbelief.

He offered me a cold smile. “I may not like you, wolf, but I’m sorry I almost kil ed your brother. And those bastards kil ed mine. I’d like a crack at them . .

. and to piss them off by snatching their prisoners.”

Monroe frowned at him, but Ethan shrugged. “Like you said, Monroe. This is personal.”

“Al right, Ethan. You’l go and I’l go.”

“Two?” Shay gaped at him. “You’re only taking two?”

“No.” Monroe smiled at him and then looked at me. “We’l be taking an alpha Guardian with us. That should be al the muscle we need for a stealth extraction.”

“Don’t take Cal a,” Shay said. “They’l want to kil her. It’s too dangerous.”

I jumped up, flashing my fangs at him. “Do you even remember who I am? I don’t need you to protect me!”

When he met my gaze, my outrage dissolved. His eyes were ful of fear . . . and love. “I know.”

“We need her to help us find her pack,” Monroe said. “She has to go.”

Shay’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded.

“I’l go too,” Connor said suddenly. “If it’s gonna be the last party, I’m sure as hel not missing it.”

“It’s settled, then,” Monroe said. “Silas?”

“What?” The Scribe had been poring over his notes.

“Can I trust you not to report to Anika . . . at least not yet?” Monroe asked.

He started writing again but nodded. “I’l make you a deal. Find out how they got Grant and I won’t run back to the Arrow. The report I can make right now is sparse at best.”

“Thank you,” Monroe said. “Ethan, let’s talk about logistics. Isaac, could you fix this boy something to eat? Connor—”

“Already on it,” Connor said, heading toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Adne, Shay, and me. “Come on, guys, I won’t be able to carry al of them myself.”

I glanced at Ansel, but he’d returned to staring at his hands and shuddering. Better to leave him alone right now. I wanted to help him, but if I was heading into a fight, I needed focus. Looking at Ansel tied knots in my gut. Al I could see was his brokenness and a vision of my mother’s body bleeding on an altar. I swal owed bile and rose to fol ow Connor.

Adne was already leaving the kitchen.

“Carry al of what?” Shay stood up.

“Weapons.” Connor grinned and strode through the door.

SIXTEEN

“WEAPONS?” SHAY
REPEATED,
watching Connor’s jaunty gait as he strode across the training room.

“Oh, just go after him.” Adne groaned. “Boys and their toys. You’d think he’d grow up.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, fal ing in step beside her. “Doesn’t he already have his swords?”

“Only two,” Adne said.

“Two isn’t enough?” Shay muttered under his breath as we fol owed Connor.

At the opposite end of the room was a narrow door. Connor unlocked it and we fol owed him inside. Darkness swal owed us ful y since the room had no windows. I frowned, shaking my head, which had fil ed with a strange humming.

“Ow!” Connor shouted. “God dammit. I think Silas left his training manuals on the floor again. Now where is the stupid light . . . ?”

“Here,” Adne cal ed, and in the next moment dingy light from the bare bulb washed through the room.

I gasped and Shay whistled. Al four wal s of the room, floor to ceiling, were covered with weapons: wickedly curving swords, ranging in length from a foot to the height of a ful -sized man; daggers with hooked and jagged blades; single- and double-headed axes; maces and clubs; quarterstaffs and pole arms. Al the weapons gleamed, even in the poor light.

The room pulsed with Old Magic; it poured off the enchanted weapons fil ing the room, making the air around us vibrate with power. My amazement gave way to a sickening twist low in my bel y. Gazing at the weapons reminded me that Searchers spent their lives perfecting ways to kil Guardians. And this was how they did it. As if on cue, my shoulder throbbed. The muscles seemed to remember the damage done by these weapons.

“Look at this,” Connor said, kicking several sprawling texts out of his way. “If Silas loves his books so much, why does he leave them lying around?”

“Silas trains here?” I was stil staring at the weapons, but the thought of the Scribe using any of them was bizarre. “I thought Scribes didn’t do combat.”

“They don’t, but al Searchers learn how to fight.

Every one of us does a rotation at an outpost,”

Connor muttered. “Even Scribes. Including the useless ones.”

“He’s not useless, just forgetful.” Adne crossed the room to climb a ladder that gave access to the topmost weapons hanging on the wal . “What do you want?”

want?”

“Get the French gladius,” Connor said. “And bring down a couple kataras too.”

“You’re so predictable,” Adne said, pul ing weapons from their hooks. One appeared to be a standard short sword, but the pair of stunted blades she grabbed next were unfamiliar to me.