Chapter 24 #2

“He said something about a gun earlier. That he was sad it wasn’t delivered on time.

Maybe he went to get it…I don’t know.” She bites back a few sharp curses while her body trembles violently.

“Okay, Em, you can do this. One, two, th-th-ree,” she mutters to herself.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” Crack! Crack! Crack! Her bones crunch and shift.

Pained groans that make my hair stand on end follow.

Sweat streams down in rivulets on her face and torso, plastering the semi-torn shirt to her body as fur recedes into the skin of her legs.

She loses consciousness.

I let her rest for a moment as I slide my sneakers on her feet and tie them.

They’re a little snug, but it’s better than nothing.

“Em, you need to wake up,” I say as I straighten, then tap her cheek lightly.

She groans again, but this time when she opens her eyes, they’re more alert.

I bend to place her arm around my shoulders.

Propping her body against my side, I lift her up from the chair, taking her weight.

“Shit. Fuck. Motherfucker,” she half blurts–half whimpers as she takes her first step. “My legs are on fire. Actually, my whole fucking body is.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to push past it because I can’t walk for you even though I wish I could. C’mon, Logan is waiting for us. We can’t disappoint him, all right?” I encourage, dragging her with me.

We’re hobbling a little too slowly for my liking, but there’s nothing I can do.

Again, I ignore my screaming ribs, concentrating instead on each step.

A little huff of relief leaves my lungs when we finally reach the hallway where the detainment cells are located.

If the blueprints Kaiden sent me are correct, there should be a door at the end that opens to a room with a fake wall.

“Can you stand by yourself for a minute?” I ask Emily. She nods, so I leave her leaning on the wall. I round the corner to throw another flying dagger at the camera surveilling the cells. It drops to the ground, shattering.

I stride back to Emily and take her weight on my side again.

As we shuffle down the corridor, a hissing ghoul interrupts the eerie silence when it smashes into the bars of its cell.

Sharp claws swipe in the air toward Emily.

She lets out a surprised yelp, but I pull her out of the demon’s reach just in time.

The enchanted bars of the cell activate, turning bright gold. They burn through the ghoul’s sickly white skin. Its three pairs of eyes roll to the back of its bald head as it shrieks and the smell of burnt flesh mixed with sulfur and rot coats the back of my throat.

Emily gags. “Ugly, stinky fucker.”

I only huff in response because I’m getting too tired to speak.

We almost topple over when I bend to collect my dagger from the broken camera on the floor.

“Fucking finally,” I say as we reach the old wooden door.

The elation is short-lived, though, because heavy steps echo in the vast space behind us.

“Where do you think you’re going, mutt?” Cain’s menacing voice booms before a shot rings in the air.

I throw us both to the floor. Emily grunts, then hisses in pain when I land on top of her.

The bullet flies right over our heads and impales the wall, leaving spiderweb cracks in its wake.

I jump up, pulling Emily with me. She doesn’t complain that I’m being rough because if we stay here for one more second, we might die.

Fingers wrapping around the knob, I turn.

Fuck. It’s locked. I chance a look over my shoulder to see how long we have.

Cain is running toward us at lightning speed while pointing the gun at Emily again.

I push her out of the way when he pulls the trigger.

An explosion of pain blurs my vision as the bullet grazes my shoulder.

I shake my head to gain some clarity before throwing out my leg in a punishing blow.

The door creaks loudly, but it opens. Taking Emily’s hand, we spill into the room.

A rat scurries on the dirty floor between our feet to get outside.

Judging by the musty air, the thick layer of grime covering the brick walls, and the rickety wooden table pushed against the wall, it’s pretty clear no one has been here in decades.

I dash to the table, ignoring the white-hot pain from my shoulder that blinds me for an instant when I push it against the door, and plunge the room into pitch-black darkness. It’s not much of a barrier, but it might buy us a few minutes.

“What now? We’re trapped here, and that psycho is coming,” Emily says, her voice laced with panic.

“There’s a tunnel underneath us; one of the bricks opens a fake wall.

Help me find it!” I take out my phone, tap on the flashlight, then slide it into my front pocket, the light pointing forward.

I need both of my hands. I let my palms roam in a frenzy over the wall next to me. Emily copies me on the opposite wall.

A loud bang echoes through the door as Cain manages to push back the table slightly.

Through the thick layers of grime, the pads of my fingers stumble upon some sort of engraving on one of the lower bricks.

Bingo. I push my palm against it. At first, nothing happens.

But after a few seconds, the wall at the back of the room opens slowly as the bricks drag on the cement floor with a loud grind.

I bite hard the inside of my cheek when I hook Emily’s arm over the back of my neck. We hobble-run through the opening. The problem is that I have to search again for the mechanism to close the wall, so I use the pads of my fingers once more to feel the brick texture.

“Where the fuck is it?!” I mumble to myself. Cain finally pushes through the door, the table smashing and sending wood shards flying into the air.

The sound startles Emily back to reality. “Here!” she exclaims, slapping her palm against the brick above my head.

The fake wall starts closing. We don’t spare a second, hurrying through the corridor. Emily looks back and swears loudly. “That fucker slid through the opening. He’s gaining on us.”

Turning us around, I pull out one of the daggers strapped to my thigh and flick my wrist to send it flying at Cain’s forehead. He dodges at the last second, but it still impales his shoulder.

“You fucking half-blood filth!”

Before we can enter the ancient elevator that doesn’t even have a door, Cain fires the gun again. The sound is deafening in the cramped corridor. I try to duck and shield Emily in one motion.

But it’s too late.

She screams.

We collapse to the ground, the cement scraping my knees and forearms, my phone flying into the elevator.

I scramble to Emily, then lift her by the armpits to prop her back against the wall to check her injury.

The bastard got her in the left shoulder.

If I hadn’t ducked, it would have pierced her heart.

Her honey-colored eyes lock with mine as her face scrunches in a grimace. “It’s silver,” she grits out through clenched teeth.

Nononononononononono.

Black vines spread slowly from the gunshot wound. Fuck. Not only is the bullet silver, but it was also dipped in aconite. In the spur of the moment, I push my finger inside the hole.

“What the fuck?!” she screams in agony as I search for the bullet, blood leaking from the wound in rivulets.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get it out.” I can’t be worried about sepsis at this moment.

A silver bullet dipped in aconite is a death sentence for a wolf shifter.

But only if the poison gets to her heart.

By some divine luck, I find it and pry it out.

The bullet clatters to the floor. Emily blacks out from the pain. Fuck! I need to stop her bleeding.

As I’m about to turn around, the cold barrel of a gun is pressed to the back of my head.

“You scum! I knew you would turn on us. I told Grayson it was a bad idea to allow filth into the Order, but he didn’t fucking listen, and look where we are now,” Cain spews.

“Fuck you!” I shoot back.

“Get up slowly and don’t try anything. Let me see your hands. A silver bullet is still a bullet; it’ll pierce through your skull regardless of what it’s made of. But then, I wouldn’t have the pleasure of torturing you.” His maniacal laugh bounces off the walls.

I put my hands in the air and inch up slowly.

He uses the gun to push me back toward the way we came.

When Emily sputters a pained moan, I hear the second of hesitation in Cain’s next step.

I take it as my cue. Using my unearthly hellseeker speed, I twirl around, grab the barrel with my left hand, then lean my body out of the direct line of fire to karate chop Cain’s wrist. The gun drops to the ground, so I kick it back toward Emily.

Fisting my fingers, I swing my arm in an arc at Cain’s head.

He blocks my punch with ease before tackling me into the wall.

Hard. I don’t get a chance to catch my breath because his fingers wrap around my throat in a punishing grip.

Then he smashes the back of my head against the brick wall.

The pain lends itself to little white dots swarming my vision.

Sticky, warm liquid coats my hair as I gasp for air.

Whatever reprieve that gives me is short-lived because my head meets the bricks for a second time.

Blackness envelops me. I lose my grip on reality for a second. Then come back to in the next.

Somehow, in the middle of all this, I regain that equilibrium that accompanies me whenever I hunt demons.

Letting out a feral scream, I palm the dagger closest to me on my thigh, take it out of its holster, and slash the side of Cain’s neck.

It goes through skin and muscle like a hot knife through butter, severing his carotid artery.

Blood shoots out. It sprays my face and torso.

Disbelief flashes in Cain’s eyes. He lets go of me to cover his wound—a last-ditch attempt to stop the bleeding.

It’s futile, though. He mumbles something that resembles “You cunt!” but I can’t be sure because, in the next second, his head bends at an unnatural angle.

He falls first on his knees, then on his side with a loud thump.

I don’t know how, but I can feel his soul slipping away.

It’s like a ball of pure energy calling out to me.

But it’s tainted…corrupt and as black as pitch.

I don’t dwell on it, though. Ignoring the red-hot pain bursting from my every nerve ending, I hop over his lifeless body and scramble to get to Emily.

When I reach her, her chest isn’t moving.

At all. So, I drop into a crouch and place two fingers under her nose.

I heave out a relieved sigh when her exhale whispers against my skin. Thank fuck!

“Emily,” I call out her name as I take off my belt to make a tourniquet.

Her fingers twitch. She opens her eyes slowly. It takes a few seconds for her to fully come back to reality, and when she does, she lets out a string of curses when I tighten the belt above the gunshot wound. “Did you get it out?”

“Yeah,” I reply, inspecting her chest. The black vines stopped spreading, which gives me hope that we might make it out before the poison gets to her heart.

A manic laugh belts out of her. “You look like Carrie.”

I shudder in revulsion. “Oh, I wish it was pig blood.”

Emily flicks her gaze over my shoulder, where Cain is lying in a puddle of blood on the cement floor. “You killed him,” she states the obvious. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy the psycho is dead, but aren’t you going to suffer the consequences?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. It was either kill or be killed.” I sigh. “Let’s hope no one knows about this tunnel.”

I push up and stride toward the elevator to take my phone.

The screen is cracked and useless, but at least the flashlight is still on.

So I slide it back into its place in the front pocket of my pants.

Then I help Emily get up, crooking her uninjured arm around my shoulders again.

We get into the elevator. I press my hand on the button for it to go down, but nothing happens.

“This is old as fuck. Kind of funny we managed to escape that dipshit just to possibly die in a stuck elevator,” she says with a bitter laugh.

The sound gets swallowed by a loud screech as the elevator starts descending.

It’s shaking so badly that my teeth chatter. I throw another look at the corridor.

And find myself staring right into Cain’s open eyes.

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