Chapter 34 #2
“And left a trail of corpses announcing we’re here,” the lass replied without turning. Her voice was like ice in the shadows. “No.”
We slunk on. My nose told me we were getting closer, and with every turn of the corridor the scent of her burned brighter.
By the time we reached the reinforced blast door, I didn’t need the map. I knew she was in there. My hands tightened on the grip of my rifle. “She’s here,” I whispered, too low for the sound to carry.
The lass glanced back once, pale eyes narrowing at me, checking my state of mind. I didn’t look away.
Nox crouched by the control panel, prying open the faceplate. His hands were quick. Sparks spat, the lock whined, and with a hiss of hydraulics the door juddered open.
The chamber stank of damp and despair.
They were all there.
My pack.
Logan was shackled tightly to the wall, his shoulders arched back, his dark hair matted, and his eyes still steady despite it all.
Similarly bound, Aidan’s green gaze burned bright, his wolf close enough to the surface to flash in the soft light.
Edward sat like a soldier enduring another war, every muscle taut, jaw clenched, steel cuffs tight around his wrists.
Declan was chained at wrist and ankle, and his chest heaved, every breath a growl, his eyes feral gold.
Sera was strapped to a steel X-frame, hair spilling over one shoulder, her blue eyes wide, the heat of her scent thick and potent in the air. My chest tightened, my wolf rattling its cage all over again.
To make things worse, all five of them were naked.
“Jamie?” Her voice cracked, relief and warning all tangled together into one.
I moved to go to her immediately, but the unnamed boss-lady’s hand shot out, palm flat against my chest, stopping me dead.
“Eamon.” She jerked her chin.
The medic unslung his bag, producing a slim case. Inside, half a dozen darts nestled in padded foam. He handed four of them out one by one to the girl, small, wicked things filled with that same blocker that had already saved me from myself.
I clenched my jaw as the lass slipped past me into the chamber. Logan’s eyes followed her, narrowing, but he didn’t speak.
“Hold still,” she ordered, calm and cold. Then—pffft. The dart hit his thigh, He hissed, but didn’t flinch.
“What the hell are you doing?” Logan demanded.
“Keeping you alive,” she said simply. She moved to Aidan next.
He bared his teeth at her. “Try it, and—”
Pffft. The dart thudded into his shoulder before he could finish. He snarled, jerking against the chains, then sagged, breathing heavier.
Declan whispered hoarsely, straining against his bonds. “Don’t you dare put that in me!”
Pffft.
The dart pierced his pectoral muscle. He grunted, the sound echoing off the walls, but then his eyes blinked clearer, the fever in them dulled.
Edward eyed her like a hawk, suspicion carved deep into his face. “If this kills me…”
“It won’t,” she said flatly, and shot him without hesitation.
The four of them cursed and growled, but I could see the difference already. Their breathing evened out. The gleam bled away from their eyes. The wolf still burned in them, aye, but steadier now and far more under control.
I stepped into the room finally, the scent of Sera’s arousal still heavy, but not crushing me. I kept my eyes on her.
“Sweet mate,” I said quietly. “We’re here.”
Her eyes locked on me, relief flashing briefly before they turned angry. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Not exactly the welcome I’d hoped for,” I muttered.
“Listen,” she hissed urgently. “The lycans—they’ve been spotted in the water. Hundreds. Maybe more. They’re heading straight here.”
Griff swore under his breath, hand tightening on his weapon.
Sera’s words tumbled out faster. “And it’s not just the lycans.
The British army’s coming too. Commander Dane, he engineered this.
All of it. He dosed me to force me into heat, to bait you here, to lure the Elder Lycan across the sea.
He thinks when the lycans arrive and take on the Watch, it’ll kill all of us—wolves, lycans, me. Everyone.”
The mystery woman’s head jerked up. “And where is Dane now?”
“Commanding his forces,” Sera spat. “He left me here—left us here—to die.”
The chamber went still.
Bishop’s voice broke the silence a second later. “Then he intends to sacrifice his own base as well.”
Sera shook her head. “No. He thinks the lycans will break on the cliffs, that the British will mop up what’s left, and that none of us will survive long enough to tell the story.”
The walls shuddered faintly then, the distant echo of explosions muffled through stone. Boots pounded in the hall outside, voices rising in sharp shouts. The first wave must have hit.
Logan snarled, rattling his chains. “Finally. A fight.”
Declan slammed his shoulders against the wall, rattling his chains so hard the bolts groaned. “Get me out of these, Jamie, before I rip them out myself!”
Griff stepped forward, grinning like a boy let loose on a candy stall. “Step aside, lad.” He braced one hand against the wall, the other wrapped the chain at Declan’s wrist, and with a grunt the steel links snapped. Declan stumbled forward, shaking free, his grin feral.
Nox slid to Logan next, pulling a slim tool from his belt. He worked the cuffs with quiet skill, and in two heartbeats Logan was free, rolling his shoulders and wrists, dark eyes burning like coals.
Bishop moved to Aidan, snapping one shackle after another. Edward was last, still watching every move with a soldier’s suspicion, but when his chains fell, he flexed his muscles like a man already planning which throat to cut first.
The Jane Doe beat me to Sera. She raised her dart pistol, but instead of firing, she holstered it, drew a lock pick, and quickly opened the metal cuffs biting into Sera’s wrists and ankles.
Sera sagged forward, catching herself on me. My hands were under her before I even thought, steadying her, the weight of her more grounding than any dart could have managed. Her eyes caught mine and for a breath the world narrowed to that single moment.
“On your feet, lass,” I murmured. “We’ve work to do.”
She nodded once, jaw tight, and pushed herself upright.
There was a row of dented lockers bolted against the wall. Logan went over and wrenched one open, and the stale smell of old fabric rolled out. Inside hung a scatter of fatigues, plain shirts, and combat trousers, standard Watch issue, nothing fancy, but enough to cover bare skin.
One by one they tore into the lockers, dragging on whatever fit.
Logan drew on pants that were too big and shrugged into a dark jacket that hung broad across his shoulders.
Edward tugged on trousers and cinched a belt around his waist, foregoing a shirt.
Aidan found a set of boots at least a full size too small, but wore them anyway, along with pants and shirt that mostly fit.
And Declan grinned as he rolled the sleeves of a too-tight shirt past his forearms and sucked in a breath to get his pants buttoned.
Sera, cheeks flushed, but chin held defiantly high, pulled on a shirt and a pair of pants that were both way too big.
After only a few minutes, they were a motley crew, but none of them were naked anymore.
Another blast rattled the chamber, closer this time. The lights flickered, then steadied. The sounds of running and barked orders came through the door.
“They’ll be on us in seconds,” Bishop said.
“Then we leave first,” the lass replied.
We barreled out of the chamber into the corridor. A blast door was already sliding down behind us, hydraulics whining.
“Shit,” I spat. “They’re sealing this section!”
“Move!” the lass barked.
Nox darted forward, sliding low on the steel floor, toolkit already out. His hands were a blur, sparks spitting as he tore into the hydraulic lock. Griff braced the door with both hands, muscles bulging, buying us seconds.
“Make it quick, Nox!” he gritted out.
Nox just smirked, teeth flashing in the dim light. “Always do.” With a final twist, the hydraulics screamed, then hissed. The door juddered, halted halfway down, then slammed upward with a clang.
Griff whooped, letting it fly. “That’s more like it!”
We spilled out into the main passage, alarms wailing overhead now, red lights painting everything bloody. We ran, boots hammering against the floor, the scent of the sea air finally threading through the stale base stink.
Then there was light.
We burst out onto a catwalk that opened over the cliffs. Wind slammed into us, cold and tasting of brine. Below, the world was pure chaos.
Hundreds of dark shapes boiled out of the surf.
Lycans clawed up the rocks, their howls a chorus of madness.
Watch soldiers fired down from emplacements, the crack of rifles and the thunder of heavier guns rattling the stone.
Explosions punched gouts of water into the air where charges went off, but still the monsters came, climbing over the corpses of their own.
Farther out, black boats carved the chop, which I assumed could only be the British. Lines of soldiers spilled onto the southern beach, their banners snapping loudly in the wind.
The Isle of Man shook with the sound of war.
“Looks like hell’s come calling,” Aidan grunted.
Edward rolled his shoulders, “Then we answer.”
Declan grinned, teeth flashing. “About bloody time.”
I pulled my rifle off my back, chambered a round, and glanced at the lass still standing cool as a blade beside me. “Well, anonymous boss-lady,” I said, grinning despite the ache in my ass. “Looks like the party’s started without us.”
Her pale eyes met mine, calm even with the storm at her back. “Then let’s not keep them waiting.”