Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Adam is being kept in the lowest level of the facility. Whatever they’re doing to him, they don’t want anyone hearing it.
I don’t let myself imagine what their torture looks like.
I already know.
Smith scans his card, and I pick at the edges of my bloodied bandage as the elevator begins to descend. The deeper we go, the harder it is to breathe.
This facility is five floors in total, three of which are underground.
Leadership and a select few council members own the top floor. I suspect it’s because they enjoy the windows. A reminder that they’re the ones who get to see the outside world.
The second level is also aboveground. It’s an open floor—one that all employees can access. Conference rooms, offices, a large cafeteria, and a gym.
The third floor is restricted. It’s also the first underground. The scientists take up residence here. There’s a large, high-tech lab I’ve never been allowed inside, but most of this floor is offices and small studio apartments.
I’ve heard whispers of an armory located on this level, but I’ve never seen it.
I lived on the fourth floor. For over ten years. Like a pet they kept contained and useful.
A few others have taken up residence here, but I’m the only marked person. It’s hard to believe I spent so many years within this building, confined to my single floor. I used to have access to the second level, but it was revoked when I was eleven.
A few scientists saw me getting leveled by a soldier in the gym. They watched me hit the ground but didn’t step in. They later voiced their concerns to leadership, and my privilege to the entire floor was taken away.
Leadership built me a small, private gym on the fourth floor instead. I’ve always hated it.
The elevator brings us to the fifth floor. Medical resides here. They take up half the level.
The other half is dedicated to the shifters. Nestled somewhere are a handful of concrete cells meant to contain them. The cells used to be made of plaster and wood, but the rooms were reinforced after a shifter broke through a wall and killed six guards.
The elevator doors open, and Smith wheels me into a wide hallway leading to a reinforced steel door. There are two guards standing on either side of it, both in full tactical gear. Their weapons are raised like they’re expecting a fight.
There’s no getting out here—at least, not alive.
They spare me a quick glance before focusing on Smith.
“She’s to be placed with the shifter,” Smith says.
The guard on the left—a tall, burly man with an unkempt beard—silently places his hand on the scanner beside the door. It unlocks with a loud click, and Smith wheels me inside.
Smith seems to know exactly where he’s going, and we pass two more hallway openings before making another right.
This place is a damned maze, and every turn feels like it’s leading me somewhere worse.
Smith wheels me into a concrete corridor capped at both ends by steel doors. I assume this is where Adam is being kept.
My stomach lurches. I’m not sure I’m ready to see him.
“This is as far as I go.” Smith points to the door at the end of the hallway. “It will unlock once I leave. On the other side is the shifter.” He clears his throat. “I need to take the wheelchair with me.”
Of course he does. Can’t let me bring in anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. My knees shake as I stand, and my shoulders roll as I walk forward. I have to plant a hand on the wall to stabilize myself, my vision funneling. I better not pass out.
The guard makes a quiet noise, his clothing rustling.
“Are you…” He hesitates. “You good?”
One might think he might actually cares. More likely, he just doesn’t want to deal with me passing out.
“Peachy.”
The door behind me shuts, the lock loudly engaging. I don’t enjoy being trapped in this tiny corridor. There’s nowhere to run.
Within seconds, the second door unlocks.
I’m scared to see what lies beyond it. Scared of what they’ve done to Adam. Scared of what’s left of him.
I’m not even certain that Adam is in here. For all I know, they’re talking about a different shifter. Or maybe he’s dead and I’ll be met with a cold corpse.
I suppose I’m about to find out.
I grab the handle with both hands, then push. The door doesn’t budge. It’s too heavy, and I’m not in a position to use much force. I use my shoulder instead, ignoring the stinging as the stitches in my chest tug.
I get the door open a crack.
“Adam?” I grunt. “You in there?”
The door is ripped open. I stumble forward, my breath hitching as I slam into Adam’s chest. Solid, warm, and, most importantly, alive.
He grabs my arm, quickly steadying me.
Relief hits first. It’s all-consuming and intense, but horror quickly follows.
Adam looks like shit. Worse than shit, actually. He looks like something that’s been dragged through hell and barely made it out.
His dark-brown hair hangs limply by his ears, and he’s still in the suit he wore to the meeting with the alphas. It’s in tatters and covered in dried blood.
In fact, most of him is covered in blood.
Around his neck is a metal collar. There’s a blinking red light on the side.
Gruff orders come in through a speaker at the back of the room. “Step inside and shut the door.”
I step inside.
Adam doesn’t move.
The muscles in his arm bunch, like he’s thinking about fighting back, but then he whines and drops to the ground. The blinking red light of his collar turns solid, and horror fills my veins as I realize Adam is being electrocuted.
I don’t move.
I can’t.
If I do, they’ll do worse.
Adam crawls away from the door, continuing until the light on the side of his collar turns solid green. I’m going to be sick.
Adam pants, drool seeping out of the corner of his mouth as he struggles to catch his breath. I remain silent, acutely aware that we’re being watched. If we have any hope of getting out of here, I need to convince leadership to set me free.
They need to believe that I’m still valuable.
What would the old Evelyn do? She wouldn’t flinch. She wouldn’t feel anything about this. She’d use this opportunity to interrogate Adam.
I’m not that woman anymore, but I need to pretend I am.
If I can convince HPAW that I’m still an asset, they might let me out. Maybe they’ll even send me back into the pack lands.
It’s wishful thinking, but I’m desperate enough to hope.
Adam continues to collect himself. We’re in a small room, with a tiny bed on one side and a toilet on the other. The bed is welded to the floor, with the thinnest mattress known to man on top. There’s no pillow or blanket.
The toilet is metal. It’s also missing a toilet seat.
Adam is silent as he stands. He licks his lips, his eyes lingering on my chest. My bandage is hidden beneath my shirt, but I’m sure he remembers the piece of shrapnel that impaled me.
It’s hard to forget seeing a giant piece of metal sticking out of somebody’s chest.
“Evelyn,” he finally says. His relief is practically tangible. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
I snort, taking a seat on the bed. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s better than standing.
Adam hooks his finger into the front of my shirt, pulling it away from my skin and peering down. He presses his lips together once he sees the bandage, then retreats.
“I was taken into surgery,” I say. “I’m expected to make a full recovery.”
“Must be nice. I had to reset my own bones.” He touches his collar. “Assholes.”
I frown. “Have you been questioned?”
Adam shakes his head but doesn’t verbally respond.
Why haven’t they brought him in for questioning? Or even for testing? Capturing a shifter is a big deal, especially one as young and healthy as Adam. This is monumental.
I eye the ceiling. More cement.
“Do you remember being brought inside?” I ask.
“No,” Adam admits. “Do you?”
I shake my head. Whatever drugs I was given knocked me out cold. I hardly remember anything.
“Do you think Alpha Knox is dead?”
I use Caleb’s title, hoping Adam picks up on it.
If he notices my intentional choice of words, he shows no reaction.
He crinkles his nose, then takes a seat against the wall opposite me. I feel a little bad about taking up his bed, but not enough to move. I miss the bliss of pain medication.
“I don’t know…” Adam says, picking at a piece of lint on his tattered dress pants. “I don’t remember anything after the explosion, and I’m not exactly a part of our alpha’s inner circle.”
“Why were you at the meeting, then?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I suspect Alpha Knox thought it would be good for you to see a familiar face.”
That’s laughable. Adam would be the last person Caleb would choose. He knows how I feel toward my insufferable neighbor.
Adam was at that meeting because he’s important to the pack. I’m not sure how, but I’m damn well not going to pry in front of listening ears.
I’m asking these questions because that’s what the old Evelyn would do, but I don’t really want the answers.
“If Alpha Knox is dead…” I start. My voice trembles on the last word. I make sure it comes out clear with my next. “Who do you think has taken over?”
I suspect Logan would. Sash already hates me—I must admit, for good reason. I did try to murder her brother, after all. Logan doesn’t seem happy with me, either. He works closely with Caleb, and he’s Sash’s mate. That makes him family.
Adam drops his hands into his lap.
“I mean, there is a formal chain of command, is there not?” I continue.
I lean forward and lower my voice, pretending like I’m trying to keep quiet. HPAW has state-of-the-art technology. Whispering doesn’t do anything. If HPAW wants to know what’s happening in this room, they will.
Adam licks his lips. “I don’t think it’s in our best interest to discuss this.”
Smart. Thank God.
I was worried Adam would talk, but he has enough common sense to keep quiet. I hope he keeps that spirit when HPAW inevitably brings him in for questioning. After seeing those videos, I know his interrogation will be intense.
It will be torture.
Will they torture me, too? I wouldn’t put it past them.
Adam doesn’t deserve this. He’s a third-grade teacher, for fuck’s sake. He spends his free time eating chips, bothering me, and insulting my smutty books. He’s not the evil mastermind HPAW believes the shifters to be.
None of them are.