Vann looked at the guards again then lifted the hatch higher.
“We’re okay. It’s a few stone steps then a ramp going deeper underground.”
How the hell hadn’t the Crossways pack heard about this place? Then again, why would they have? Bennett had many secrets, and if he’d told those loyal to him to keep their mouths shut about a secret underground location, they would have.
Vann fully opened the hatch, cursing the harsh blast of light. The guards would see it, yes, but so would Dillon, giving him and the others something to head toward. Kip stuck his nose over the edge. He sniffed, getting a strong whiff of his half siblings and the heady scent of mold. Without waiting for Vann, he plunged into the hole.
“Wait, will you?”
Vann called.
At the bottom of the steps, Kip, frustrated and wanting to get moving, stood still.
“Please, Sir. Hurry.”
His body twitched with his need to
do
something.
Vann entered. He closed the hatch then wedged himself by Kip’s side.
“There isn’t enough room for both of us, Sir. Single file.”
Vann moved to go first.
“No. I’ll go first,”
Kip said, surging onwards.
The narrow aisle stretched on for a few meters. Bare light bulbs were spaced intermittently, their wires decorated with fluffy, thick cobwebs. The walls were crudely plastered with cement, or something close to it, the top half damp and green in parts where drips of moisture had dribbled. At the end of the aisle, a steel door barred their way. Kip’s heart sank. What if it was locked?
At the door, relief flowed through him at the sight of it being ajar. He nosed it open, conscious that wolves might be on the other side, ready to pounce. There was nothing but a room, empty, its walls built from red house bricks. Someone had spent a lot of time creating the hidden place. Kip cocked his head, keeping alert for sounds and smells that meant danger.
There was nothing but the cubs’ scent laced with the mold.
A tunnel mouth gaped opposite, black, the space beyond so secret it gave Kip the creeps. He glanced at Vann, then, before he could be stopped or change his mind, Kip plunged into it. An instant melody of water drips, amplified by the confined space, played a tune that he thought might haunt him forever. It was melancholy, a maudlin introduction to a dank, dark passageway that didn’t seem to lead anywhere.
As he went on, the light from behind faded until blackness encompassed him. It was absolute, and walking blind was an eerie experience. He slowed, testing the ground for any hidden drops or steps before he trusted himself to move farther forward. Vann’s breaths seemed overly loud, meshing with the water tune and threatening to send Kip into madness. It was like this place was enchanted or haunted by unseen beings that had the intent to stop anyone from reaching whatever was ahead.
Kip bumped into a wall ahead of him. He sniffed, cocked his head again then on instinct, pushed with his forehead. A chink of light spilled into the passage, a gap created by a section of the wall moving inwards. Kip stared through at a room made from the same house bricks as he’d seen earlier. Cells lined the wall opposite, a sleeping child in each one. A black wolf dozed on the floor in the center.
“They’re here, Sir. As well as a guard. I think it’s Caleb.”
Kip spotted a lighter patch at the end of the wolf’s tail, a black paintbrush dipped in white paint.
“Yes, it’s Caleb.”
“Caleb? What the fuck would he be doing here? He hates Bennett and Wickland.”
“You know as well as I do that no one disobeys here. He’ll have been told what to do. We’d have done the same whether we liked it or not.”
Nudging the wall again, praying it didn’t make any noise, Kip created enough space for him and Vann to go through. Kip went first, padding in as silently as he could. Vann came to stand by his side. They stared at the kids.
“Drugged?”
Vann asked.
“Probably, Sir.”
A strong urge to wake Caleb swept through Kip. He dropped his bag so it slapped on the floor then he shifted. Quickly getting out his Taser, he stood beside Caleb, surprised the noise he’d made hadn’t roused him. If Wickland had been here and found Caleb like this, dozing when he should have woken at the slightest sound, his life wouldn’t have had many seconds remaining in it.
Toeing Caleb in the side, Kip waited for some kind of response.
Nothing.
“What the fuck?”
Vann let his bag go, shifted to wolf form then pounced on Caleb.
Taking a mouthful of his scruff, Vann shook his head, growling with anger.
“What are you doing, Sir? Why be so rough?”
“He needs to wake the hell up. We could be anyone. Those cubs could be at risk because he’s such a lazy bastard and won’t wake up.”
Caleb opened his eyes and sprang to all four feet, shirking Vann off, blinking in what Kip could only assume was confusion that Kip and Vann were there. Then fear took over, widening his eyes and raising his hackles.
“It’s okay,” Kip said, holding out his Taser hand. “Crossways has been secured by good shifters. But if you make one wrong move, I’ll use this. And it’ll hurt, understand?”
Caleb’s hackles went down then he shifted. As a human he looked a wreck. His blond hair, full of grease, hung limply against his scalp. His usually handsome face bore signs of stress—gray shadows under his eyes and deep crevices either side of his mouth. He appeared older than his thirty-odd years—thin, weak. So why had he been chosen to guard the cubs? He was hardly packing any brawn—or strength, as far as Kip could see.
Caleb frowned. “What do you mean by secured? And why the hell have you come back when you got away? Are you crazy?”
“We brought back some shifters from Highgate—it’s another shifter compound the other side of Texas. Wickland’s been put in a cell. Alpha Newart will be here soon to take him away.” Kip smiled, hoping it would go some way to relaxing Caleb.
“Who’s the next in line to be alpha here?” Caleb asked, jamming his hands into his hair.
“I have no idea,” Kip said. “But it won’t be any of Wickland’s followers, not now Alpha Newart is involved. Maybe one will be elected. It depends on what the pack wants to do.”
“What do you mean?” Caleb eyed him warily, lowering his arms to his sides but bowing them out as if ready to fight if he had to.
“Everyone except Wickland and his followers are free to leave.” Kip smiled again. “Can you believe that? We’re finally free.”
“Free?” Caleb looked like he might collapse. He staggered to a wall, propping himself against it.
“Are you all right?” Kip asked.
Caleb shook his head.
Kip went on, hoping to give Caleb something else to think about other than his apparent distress. “There’s room at the institutes, maybe some other compounds if they’re willing to take people in. We don’t have to stay here if we don’t want to.” Kip felt for the man and wondered how he’d react in the same position given the same news.
I wouldn’t believe it.
“I promise you, you’re free,” Kip said.
Caleb slid down the wall, and Kip had the inane thought that the rough brick would have scuffed his skin. Caleb drew his legs up, thighs to chest. He rested his forearms on his knees then lowered his head.
“I don’t know what to do,” Caleb said. “I’ve lived here all my life. Going elsewhere… It’s too frightening.”
Kip understood all about that. “But once you step off these lands and see what else is out there—it’s amazing. As you know, I’ve done it. I’ve seen the way we’re supposed to live, before and after I came here. A new life is ahead of all of us. It’s yours to take. Or you could stay here with anyone else choosing to do the same thing. I’m sure if people want to stay, Alpha Newart will appoint a good alpha. Maybe even you.”
“Kip…there’s a—”
Vann said.
“Not if I can help it,” a man said.
Kip spun around to face whoever had spoken. He should have known it would be him looming in the opening. Wickland’s right-hand man, Foster, glared at Kip. Why hadn’t he noticed Foster hadn’t been captured by Dillon’s men?
Damn it!
Vann lunged forward, attacking Foster, paws on the man’s chest. The momentum sent Foster backwards. He slammed into the wall, eyes wide in his shock of actually being challenged. Kip stared at his Taser, his mind going blank on how he was supposed to use it. A simple thing like pressing a button eluded him for a second. His brain kicked into gear at last and he pointed the weapon at Foster, poising his thumb over the button, but he didn’t have a clear shot. Vann’s body covered Foster, no part of the man visible except for patches of arms, legs and his head.
“Get off him, Sir!”
Kip shouted.
A blur of movement to Kip’s left then a shove to his side had Kip reeling to his right. Caleb had shifted into a wolf. He leaped at Vann, wrenching him off Foster, his strength had clearly returned tenfold. Vann rolled backwards, smacking into the wall where Caleb had been sitting, a yelp of pain echoing around the room. Kip wanted to go to him but everything was happening too fast.
“I’m okay,”
Vann said.
“I’ll be okay.”
“Just keep out of the way if you’re hurt, Sir.”
Caleb had Foster by the throat. Foster flailed, his arms waving up and down, then he screamed, the garbled sound so full of agony it gave Kip the shivers. Kip stood rooted, unable to fire the Taser without hitting Caleb. Foster slid to one side, down the wall until he smacked onto the floor. Caleb went with him, snarling as he bit deeper. Then he snapped his head toward Kip, ripping out Foster’s throat.
The silence was deafening.
Sickened by the gory sight, Kip went to Vann, who was sprawled on the floor panting.
“My leg,”
Vann said.
“Shift, then shift again. Quickly, Sir, while you have the energy.”
Vann closed his eyes as Kip stepped back to give him room. Vann shifted to human form, his leg bent at an angle no leg should be bent in. Vann’s face, pale and sweating, scrunched up in his pain.
“Again, Sir. Now!”
Vann took a deep breath, opened his eyes to stare at Kip then shifted again. His howl was heartbreaking as his broken bone knitted back together, but it was the only way to heal. With a brief glance at Caleb to make sure he wasn’t intending to harm them, Kip returned his attention to Vann.
“So tired,”
Vann said.
“I know, Sir, I know.”
Kip went down on his knees to stroke Vann’s flank, watching him carefully for signs of shock.
“Rest for a moment. That’s all you need, just a moment.”
Sounds of approaching wolves and the scent of Dillon tore Kip’s concentration from Vann.
“The Highgate men are here, Sir. It’ll be okay—everything will be okay.”
Kip stood then went closer to the opening. He spotted Dillon and the other wolves. “The wolf in here with us is a trustworthy man as far as I know. Caleb. He killed Foster, one of Wickland’s men.”
Dillon filled the room with his presence. The other wolves remained behind him. Dillon shifted, the top of his head almost touching the ceiling.
He stared around, widening his eyes a little at the blood spatter, at the torn-out throat sitting on the floor. “We caught a few other guards out there on the perimeter. We’ll need to do a head count once we’re back at Crossways to see if any got away.” Dillon looked at Foster. “He got what was coming to him, I take it?”
Caleb growled.
“He did,” Kip said. “Caleb’s understandably angry. Confused.” He hunkered down, placing a hand on Caleb’s head. “These are the good men I told you about, Caleb. They won’t hurt you.”
“If Bennett and Wickland weren’t being dealt with by Alpha Newart,” Dillon said, “I’d kill them myself for what they’ve done to this pack. Those children…” He walked over to the cells. “They’ll get help. With your consent, Kip, Alpha Newart will probably want to take them to a hospital institute. I suspect Vann’s father will want to go with them, to work on some kind of medicine that will ensure these children can shift, something they’ve never been able to do because it hurts them too much. Or maybe Aaron might be able to create something that will take their pain away if shifting isn’t possible.”
“Whatever is best for them,” Kip said. “If it means they can lead happy lives, then they must go wherever Alpha Newart sees fit.” Kip swallowed. “I can visit, get to know them, something that’s been denied me all these years.”
Dillon nodded. “Then let’s get this crap sorted. The sooner the better.”
Kip couldn’t agree more.
Chapter Nine
Vann stared at his parents and Terena. They stood opposite him in a row in the living room of the only home he’d known. His mother, a slight woman with black hair coiled into an elegant chignon, had tears in her eyes and held out her arms. He went to her, feeling like a cub again, except their size roles had switched. Instead of his head resting on her chest, hers rested on his. His father came to Vann’s left side, Terena to his right, and their family circle was complete.
“Oh, son, I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done,” his father said, his voice rusty. “The nightmare is over.”
“And you found my boy, they said?” his mother asked, her words muffled within their embrace.
“Yes, and he’s a fine man,” Vann said. “They called him Jace, and he has our cross. He looks like me, only smaller.” Vann paused for a moment, remembering Jace and what he was like. “I didn’t get to know him much while I was there, but he’s willing to meet us all. I think.” He worried how to word what he had to say next but decided to get it over with. “You have to remember, though, he’s been brought up in a completely different lifestyle, by two men who dote on him. Don’t expect too much.”
Their circle loosened.
His mother looked up at him. “I understand, but…I can’t wait to see him. To know him.”
How could Vann let her down gently? How could he help her to understand that just because she loved Jace, even though she’d never known or held him, Jace might not feel the same way about her? She was a stranger to him, a figment, Vann suspected, of Jace’s imagination.