Chapter 24 - Rafael
The first guard dies without ever seeing me coming.
I move through the shadows like smoke, blood singing in my veins. The guard's neck snaps with a sound like breaking twigs. I catch his body before it falls, lowering it silently to the snow.
Five cameras track the compound's north entrance. I count the seconds between their sweeps, timing it perfectly. Thalia knew how to do this, too—how to spot the blind spots, the moments when electronic eyes blink. The thought of her sends fresh rage coursing through me.
Three more guards patrol the perimeter ahead. They're well-trained, professional, moving with military precision.
The first explosion catches them completely off guard.
Thalia's modified charges—the ones she left in the safehouse—do exactly what they're supposed to do. The north wall of the Smoke’s compound erupts in a shower of concrete and steel, the blast focused inward, creating a breach big enough to drive a truck through. Alarms begin to wail as smoke billows into the snowy morning.
I'm through the gap before the debris settles, shifting forms smooth as water. Wolf-shape for speed, human-form for the gun in my hand, three shots, back to wolf as guards pour from the building. Their bullets go wide—I'm moving too fast, a blur of darkness against the snow.
Blood sprays across white concrete as my teeth find the first throat. The second guard manages to radio for help before I tear the device from his hand, along with most of his arm. The third backs away, firing wildly, but fear makes him sloppy. His head bounces once when it hits the ground.
More combatants emerge from the building, these ones shifted into wolf forms. Good. Let them come as wolves. Let them see what a real monster looks like.
I meet them halfway, my roar shaking snow from the compound's walls. Teeth and claws flash in the weak morning light as bodies collide. They're strong and well-trained, but I have vampire blood and desperate love, which makes me stronger. Making me cruel.
One wolf catches my shoulder with his teeth. I respond by ripping his jaw clean off. Another tries to flank me—I catch him mid-leap and slam him into the wall hard enough to crack concrete. A third goes for my throat; I let him get close, then shift fast enough to get my human hands around his head. The crack of his spine is lost under the compound's wailing alarms.
"Thalia!" I roar her name as I fight my way inside, voice barely human. "THALIA!"
The entrance hall becomes a killing ground. I use Thalia’s explosives liberally. Guards fall before me like wheat before a scythe—some human, some wolf, all equally dead when I'm done with them. Blood turns the floor slick.
A young recruit—barely more than a boy—stumbles backward as I advance down a corridor, leaving bloody footprints on the polished floor. His gun shakes in his hands.
"The basement," he gasps when I grab his throat. "They have her in the basement. Third door on the left, down the stairs, end of the hall—please don't—"
Through the bloodlust, I see Thalia in his terrified eyes—another child the Smoke corrupted, another life they've poisoned. Instead of killing him, I slam his head against the wall. He'll wake up with a headache, but he'll wake up.
More guards try to stop me as I follow the boy's directions. I don't bother with finesse now—Thalia's charges clear my path, blowing doors off hinges, creating chaos and confusion. Let them come. Let them all come.
I'll kill every last one of them to get to her.
The stairs leading down to the basement smell like old blood and fear. Like decades of pain soaked into concrete. My vision narrows, tinting red at the edges as I pick up Thalia's scent.
And the smell of her blood.
The rage that fills me isn't human or wolf or vampire. It's something older, darker. Something that wants to tear this place apart stone by stone.
I reach the bottom of the stairs just as a door at the end of the hall opens. A man steps out toward me—salt-and-pepper hair, expensive suit, sharp, bright eyes. Even without ever seeing him before, I know who he is.
Yannick, leader of the Smoke.
He must be the monster who killed Thalia's father. Who broke her into pieces and rebuilt her into a weapon.
Who's hurt her again.
"Ah," he says, smiling like we're meeting for drinks. "The hybrid. Right on schedule."
Then he raises a gun and fires.
The bullet catches me in the shoulder—an expert shot that would have hit my heart if I hadn't started moving the instant his hand twitched. Pain blooms hot and sharp, but I barely feel it. The vampire blood in my veins is already working to push the bullet out, to knit flesh back together.
I lunge for him, but he's already retreating through the door, still wearing that infuriating smile. "Come and get her, boy. If you think you can."
Her scent grows stronger as I chase him down the corridor, staggering, vision spotty. Through the bond, which is still closed off, I feel something. A flicker. Like she knows I'm here.
More guards emerge from side rooms, but they might as well be made of paper for all they slow me down. I tear through them without mercy, letting the wolf loose, letting it paint the walls with their blood. One gets lucky with a knife, opening a gash across my ribs. I repay him by removing his throat.
Then I hear her scream.
The sound cuts through me like a blade, igniting something primal and desperate in my chest. I slam another charge against the wall, not bothering to check for structural supports. The explosion rocks the whole corridor, bringing down part of the ceiling, but I'm already moving through the smoke and debris.
The scene that greets me at the end of the hall stops my heart.
In a concrete cell, Thalia hangs from chains against the far wall, her face bloody and swollen, clothes torn and stained red. Beside her, a dark-haired woman I know must be Maia slumps on her knees, barely conscious. And in the center of the room, Yannick stands with a knife held to Maia's throat.
"That's close enough," he says softly as I take a step forward. "Unless you want to watch her bleed out."
Thalia's eyes meet mine—god, one is swollen nearly shut, but the other blazes with a fierce mix of hope and terror. "Rafael, run. Please. You have to—"
"Quiet." Yannick presses the knife harder against Maia's throat. A thin line of blood appears. "Drop your weapons, Rafael Diaz. All of them."
Every instinct screams to attack, to tear his throat out, to kill him for touching a hair on Thalia’s head. But I force myself to think past the rage. Past my bloodlust and the wolf's fury.
Trust your instincts, but not when they're speaking alone, Aris had said.
Slowly, carefully, I lay my guns on the floor. The knife from my boot. The backup piece from my shoulder holster.
"Good boy." Yannick's smile widens. "Now—"
I move before he can finish, faster than any human would be able to move. Shifter blood makes me a blur as I cross the room, slipping past in wolf form, aiming not for him but my mate, desperate to get between her and him.
But Yannick is faster than I expected.
The knife in his hand flashes, catching me across the chest as I spin to face him. Another guard emerges from a side door, catching me with a taser that sends electricity arcing through my body. I stumble, muscles spasming, and Yannick's boot connects with my wounded shoulder.
I hit the ground hard, vision blurring. Above me, Yannick raises the knife—
"NO!"
Thalia's scream pierces the haze of pain. I hear chains rattle as she strains against them.
"Stop!" she begs. "Please—kill me instead. Let him go, and I'll tell you everything. I'll do anything you want. Please."
Through spotting vision, I see Yannick pause. See his cold smile widen as he turns toward her.
"This is why we don’t tolerate traitors, Thalia,” he tells her.
"Please." My mate’s voice breaks on the word. "Just let him live. Please."
No, I try to say, but my mouth won't work. My body feels like lead, the taser's electricity still coursing through me, the knife wound in my chest bleeding freely.
Another explosion rings out. It’s far bigger than any of mine.
Chaos explodes through the space. I hear screaming. Dust rains down, thick and choking, filling the room in a blinding gray haze. The explosion tears through the walls of the building above us with a force that rattles the earth itself, and for a moment, everything blurs—my vision, the room, even the blood still leaking down my chest.
Yannick staggers backward, his form silhouetted in the cloud of dust. He shouts orders, his voice rising over the chaos, but his words are lost to the ringing in my ears.
Another, even louder explosion shakes the compound, knocking chunks of concrete from the ceiling, sending beams crashing to the floor. The room fills with a thick haze of plaster and dust.
When the ceiling hook finally rips loose from the weight of the chain pulling it from the cracking ceiling, Thalia falls forward in a rush, vanishing into the smoky mist.
I’m still trying to push myself up when she crashes down in front of me. Her hands reach out, her eyes wild and desperate, and she throws herself over me, covering my body with hers as chunks of debris fall around us. She presses down on my chest. My body is half-numb, but I can feel is the warmth of her skin and the shuddering force of her breaths, each one like an anchor pulling me back from the edge.
“Rafael!” Her voice is rough, frantic. She’s barely visible through the haze, her face flecked with blood and dirt, her eyes wild. “Rafael, stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay awake. I’m here.”
Another explosion outside shakes the walls. I feel the vibrations in the concrete beneath me, in the marrow of my bones, and even through the haze, the sound of familiar voices cuts through the chaos—shouts that rise over the screams and gunfire.
“Hold the line!”
Aris’s voice, clear and commanding, comes from somewhere in the hall beyond.
Thalia grips my hand, squeezing with a strength that belies her small, shaking frame, her fingers threading through mine like a lifeline. Her hands are raw, bloodied from her chains. But she holds on as if nothing else matters.
I blink, vision blurring again, her voice an anchor pulling me back as I begin to fade.
"Stay awake," she begs, her voice trembling. “Rafael, please. I can't—” Her voice catches, and she leans closer, pressing her forehead to mine, whispering fiercely, "I can't lose you. Not now.”
More explosions echo outside, but they’re distant, muffled, almost like they’re underwater. I feel her hands, warm and solid against my own. I remember Aris’s words, their quiet weight, as he told me we must rely on one another.
They came after me. The pack really came after me.
"Thalia," I murmur, trying to push past the blur at the edges of my vision, the pull of darkness. Her grip tightens, fierce and steady, and somehow it’s enough. Through the sound of her voice, miraculously, I manage to hold on.