One more round of the place, and I reach a wall with small doors leading to cells. I glance in each one, relying on my nose to tell me if anyone’s living. There’s a few on the end with no window looking in. I almost miss checking when my foot hits the desk nearby and the console comes to life. On screen is a dark room. A camera on one of the cells. As I watch, the shadows move. In the darkness glow two bright eyes.
There’s only one creature in here, other than me. A shifter. A prisoner.
I go to the door and rap on it. “Hey. Anyone alive in there?”
I wait a few minutes. Nothing. I need to be getting back up to Sam. I’m about to leave when a growl brings my wolf to high alert.
“Who wants to know?” a deep voice asks.
“I’m a friend. I’m looking for a fox shifter. The father of my mate.”
“Are you a prisoner or one of them?”
“Neither. I’m here to get you out.” It’s the truth. The plan is just to do reconnaissance, and wait for the pack to do a full out rescue within the next few nights. “We will free you and whoever else is here, I swear on the life of my mate.”
“You here for Johnny?”
“You know him?”
“Get me out, and I’ll take you to him.”
Damn. That’s not the plan. “Is this door alarmed?”
“Not anymore. I’m not the threat I used to be.”
Here goes nothing. I study the door. I could try to kick it in, but it’s probably built to withstand shifters. “Hang on,” I mutter and rip the hinges off, backing up as the door wrenches open from the inside.
“I’m armed,” I say as the prisoner climbs out.
“I’m no threat, the shifter growls. He’s huge but emaciated, his ribs jutting from his large frame. His scent is rich and smoky.
“What’s your animal?”
“You can’t smell me, wolf?” He turns his head and gives me the full force of his stare. Golden eyes with a small black pupil. Lion.
I recognize the tattoo on his shoulder.
“Special forces?”
He nods.
“How long have you been here?”
A pause, and then an awful laugh. If I were in wolf form, my fur would stand on end. “To long. Far too long.”
“We don’t have much time.”
“This way.”
I follow him back up the stairs, ears perked for any noises. The hall upstairs is as dark and silent as ever.
“What the fuck were they doing in here?” I mutter as we pass another lab room.
“Experiments on shifters,” the tortured lion says. “They’re obsessed with bloodline. Sometimes…” His head cocks to the side as if he’s remembering something. “Sometimes,” he mutters, almost to himself, “they breed them.”
I keep my distance as we turn down another hall. I don’t have to be a shrink to know this guy is crazy.
“In here,” he says. My wolf makes me wait until he backs away to peer through the door.
There’s no one in the room. Just a large white box and the smell of ash and death.
“Cremation,” my guide rasps. “That’s how they get rid of the evidence. You want to find Johnny? He’s in there.” And he lets out another laugh.
I reel back, gut twisting with the awful sound.
The lion shifter leaps forward and slams my head against the wall. I drop to a knee, dazed. When I find my balance, the lion is gone.
Fuck.
I race back to Sam. He’s not at the same computer, but over by the wall. “We got to go.”
He rises and hurries to a table to pack up his tools. “What happened to you?”
I swipe at my face. My nose is bleeding.
“Found a prisoner and freed him. We need to move, now.”
The prisoner might be smart enough to escape but might not care about not setting off alarms.
Sure enough, as we dart into the hall, lights flood the building. Alarms blare.
“Shit.”
“Come on,” Sam grabs me and pulls me another way. As we run, shouts hit the building outside.
“What are we going to do? We’re surrounded.”
“Plan B,” Sam says grimly. He pushes me against the wall and presses against it next to me. “Brace yourself.”
“Wh-”
A blast shakes the building.
~.~
Foxfire
“Foxfire,” my mom calls from her perch atop Daisy. “Something’s going on.”
“What?” I ask, but as soon as I stand on the seat, hanging out the front door, I can see. There are floodlights on at the compound and blaring alarms blaring. “Oh no.”
“What’s happening?”
“Trouble,” I say. “With a capital T.”
~.~
Tank
“What the fuck was that?” I shout as the shock of the blast rings in my ear. The sprinklers cut on, and we run through the slick hall.
“Plan B.” Sam doesn’t explain.
“You set a bomb?”
“Just in case we needed a diversion.” He’s creepily calm. Still a slender, mild-looking shifter-apart from the piercings and tats. But there’s gleam in his eye I don’t like.
“Come on.” I race toward the door at the end of the hall. If we’re lucky, the guards are distracted enough we can still escape.
But when I stick my head out, lights flash my way.
“Shit.”
“This way. There’s another exit.”
“How do you know?”
Sam propels me forward. “I’ve been here before.”
I don’t have time for the WTF rattling through my brain.
More shouts ring through the building. The guards from the hut are inside, and now it’s a game of cat and mouse to make sure they don’t find us.
We duck into a room, a normal-looking office.
I crouch behind a desk, muttering curses. Sam squats next to me, an oasis of calm.
“Another ten seconds, and then we run for it.” He nods to the window.
I stare at him.
“Wait for it,” Sam says, and I brace.