Wolfsbane (26 page)

“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 pul ed a katara from his belt, thrusting the short blade into the wolf’s bel y 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 kil ed Sabine’s father.

I shifted forms, shaking my head.

“You okay?” Connor asked.

“Something isn’t right,” I said, eyes flicking through the smal 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’l be alert, Cal a,” 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 pul ed out his lock-picking tool. He careful y opened the door, revealing a narrow hal lit by the same buzzing fluorescents.

There were six doors in the hal , one at each end and two on each side. The side doors were harsh metal ic 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 fol ow me.”

I shifted forms, keeping my muzzle low, sniffing along the hal . When I reached the far door on the right side of the hal , 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 wal s of the cel . Chains bound their wrists to the wal s, keeping them apart, their movements limited.

They remained stil , eyes closed. Remnants of clothing hung from their bodies. Torn pants, shredded shirts. Both of their faces were a muddle of bruises and swol en flesh, green, purple, red. A sickening rainbow painted on their skin.

The light in their cel 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 tel me when it’s over.”

“Cal a?” 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.

“Cal a?” 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 hel !”

“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 tel 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 wil make sense.”

“As long as we’re out of this hel hole, it doesn’t have to make sense,” Nev said, covering his eyes.

“I don’t know that we’l 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’l 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 kil us, huh?” Mason asked, noting that Ethan’s crossbow was trained on his chest. “Nice.”

“Wel , 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 kil 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’l 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’l 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 hel are you going to kil 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 swal ow?”

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’l 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, swal owing. “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 stil alive?” Monroe asked.

“Yeah.” Mason sighed. “The Keepers don’t have quiet executions. If they kil ed another wolf for what happened, we’d have been dragged out to watch it.”

He turned sad eyes on me. “Your mom, Cal a. 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 cel 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 kil ed 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, ful 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 cel 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 hal 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 cel blocks?” Monroe asked.

Mason shook his head.

“Open the door, Connor,” Monroe said.

TWENTY

NO FLUORESCENT CEILING
panels hummed in the Chamber. Instead tiny lights bobbed and hiccupped, circling the room, the multitude of oil lanterns signaling us like a somber warning. Bathed in that wavering, dusky yel ow, the broad space yawned like a hungry maw. I felt as though a jackhammer was at work against my ribs.

“Did we go through a time portal or something?”

Connor asked.

“Either that or this is the site of the world’s most depressing Renaissance festival,” Ethan said, stalking into the room, crossbow at the ready.

As I glanced around the space, I tried to swal ow my stomach, which wanted to climb out of my throat.

They were right. Unlike the sterile, modern cel blocks, this room had been constructed from flagstones, piled one atop the next, like mounds of slugs, a dark slimy gray that looked perpetual y sodden. The dimly lit space was empty save a dais, a gothic mockery of a stage that jutted out from one wal . Words had been carved in the stone facing behind the platform.

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

Dante. I shuddered, thinking of the hel ish images that lined the wal s of Efron’s office upstairs and how those scenes were probably re-created in this chamber. The room smel ed of must, cobwebs, urine

. . . and blood. So much blood. I faltered. The scent was overwhelming. Death poured into my lungs, making my stomach churn. Mason caught my arm, steadying me.