Wolfsbane (25 page)

EIGHTEEN

“CALLA,” SHAY WHISPERED,
gently shaking my shoulder.

The sound of his voice drew me from dreams haunted by cries of anguish and slithering shadows that threatened to engulf me.

For a moment I couldn’t remember where I was. I only heard the warmth of Shay’s voice and caught the subtle al ure of his scent. I started to lean forward, aching for his closeness.

He looked puzzled when my fingers traced the line of his jaw. “They asked me to wake you. It’s time.”

The sweetness of the moment was driven away by the sudden cold slap of knowing where I was and what I was about to do. I blinked sleep away, sitting up quickly and then regretting it when Ansel stirred.

He didn’t wake ful y but continued to mutter, restless in sleep as he had been al night. My mood plummeted even further when I remembered that I’d tried to help him, but couldn’t.

“Come on,” Shay said. “The others are waiting downstairs.”

We left the room quietly.

“How is he?” Shay asked as we descended the stairs.

“I tried to turn him.” I had to lean on the railing as grief knocked against me.

“You did?” Shay asked. “From the expression on your face, I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

I nodded. He slid his arm around my shoulders, brushing his lips against my temple.

“It’s good you tried, Cal. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, glancing back at the dark hal way. “He just seems . . . broken.”

“Yeah,” Shay said with a shudder. “I’ve only been able to change for a little while, but it’s such a part of me. I can’t imagine losing it.”

I nodded, watching him. Was it true? Did Shay real y have such a strong connection to his inner wolf? Or was he just trying to sympathize with Ansel?

“I should be going with you,” he said.

“No,” I said. “The Searchers are right. You’re too much to risk.”

He dropped his arm from my shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You stil don’t think I can fight.”

“I know you can fight,” I said. “I’ve seen you fight more than once. You’re a warrior. That’s not the issue.”

“I could help,” he said, glancing sidelong at me. “I know I could.”

“How wel you can fight doesn’t matter this time.” I shook my head. “We’l stil be facing wraiths. Until you have the Cross, you can’t fight them.”

“Neither can any of you,” he growled, and I saw his sharp canines catch the light.

“I know.” A heavy weight lay on my chest like a boulder.

A suicide mission.

We were risking so much, and I didn’t even know if the rest of the pack was stil alive. If Ren was stil alive. What if we’d already lost al of them?

I could hear the Searchers mil ing around in the empty foyer. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Shay grasped my upper arms, turning me. Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine. I leaned into him, opening my mouth, welcoming the kiss. His hands slid down my arms, fingers digging into my skin. I could taste his fear and wondered if I should pul away, knowing he drank in my own anxieties with each caress. I began to tremble, both from the fire that lit my veins as the kiss deepened and the sudden awareness that if things in Vail went badly, I might not kiss Shay again. Ever.

He broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. Ansel needs you. Let Monroe take the Searchers in. They can pul off the rescue without you.”

“I have to,” I said, pushing him back. “I’m the only one who can convince the pack that the Searchers can be trusted.”

“If anything happens to you—”

“Here they are.” Adne appeared in the stairwel , clucking her tongue. “No time for long good-byes.

Haven’t you heard? Romance is dead. We’re on the clock.”

“Sorry.” I slipped out of Shay’s embrace, fearful that if I stayed close to him any longer, I’d give in to my fear, abandoning any hope that I could save my packmates.

You’re still their alpha, Cal. The pack needs you.

You know who you are.

I clung to that idea as I strode across the empty space, finding Ethan and Connor awaiting me.

Connor nodded as I approached. “Isaac wil keep an eye on your brother while we’re gone.”

“I wil too.” Shay had come up behind me.

“Thanks,” I said, unable to look at him, worrying I’d have an attack of cowardice sprouting from my own selfish desire to stay near him.

What have I become? Had giving in to my love for Shay made me weak? I felt like I had no strength, nothing that reflected the person I’d always thought I was. Steel resolve, independence—those traits I’d valued seemed to have drained away over the last week. I desperately wanted to find myself again. I had to prove to Ansel and my pack that I hadn’t abandoned them. If I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

Monroe came striding in from the kitchen. “What’s the situation?”

“Al present and accounted for,” Connor said, sheathing a dagger in his boot.

Monroe nodded. “The door Adne wil open is in a dead end al ey adjacent to Efron’s club. We’l break in through the side entrance and make our way to the prison.”

“What wil Adne do once you’re inside?” Shay asked. “Are you leaving her at the portal alone?”

Monroe nodded.

“What if she’s attacked?” Shay frowned. “Let me go with her. I’l stay at the portal, just in case.”

“Not an option. Under no circumstances are you to join this fight, Shay.” Monroe’s jaw tightened, but he smiled grimly at his daughter. “And if the portal is hit, she can defend herself.”

Adne started, eyes widening. “Thank you.”

“I think I’m gonna cry,” Connor said, burying his face in Ethan’s shoulder.

“Oh, shove off,” Ethan growled, and readjusted the crossbow slung across his body. “We’re al probably going to die in an hour. Maybe less.”

“Al the more reason to treasure every moment.”

Connor pretended to wipe tears from his face.

“Adne, could I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Monroe asked.

“No, no way.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to let you give me some sappy father-daughter speech because we might die. Just let me do my job.”

“That’s not—” Monroe began, but Adne turned her back on him.

“Connor.” Monroe watched Adne draw the skeans from her belt. He jerked his head away from our smal group. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Connor frowned but fol owed Monroe to a darkened corner in the space.

“Ah, yes.” Ethan grinned. “To the woodshed with you.”

Adne glanced over her shoulder at Shay. “You’re not going to try to jump through this door after I open it, are you? I’m wondering if I should make you take an oath.”

“You’d better not,” Ethan said. “We’ve been over this. I’m not risking my neck unless I know you’re safe here. In fact, why don’t you just go to bed?”

“I’l go upstairs to watch Ansel after you leave,”

Shay said, but I heard the faint rumble of a growl behind his words. “I’m not going to pretend that this isn’t happening.”

“Suit yourself.” Ethan shrugged. “If I were you, I’d sleep in.”

“He’s just the gentleman you’re not,” Adne said, throwing her arms around Shay and brushing her lips over his cheek. “Thank you for caring, Shay. We’l be fine.”

Suddenly I was the one who wanted to growl.

“You’re damn right I’m no gentleman,” Ethan said.

“If you grabbed me like that, I wouldn’t let you get away with just a kiss on the cheek.”

Shay scowled, rubbing his neck as a rosy blush washed over his skin while Adne giggled over his reaction.

My eyes settled on Connor and Monroe and stayed there. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening, but both men were agitated. Monroe’s lips moved rapidly, and he had something in his hands. What were those? Envelopes? Connor paced back and forth beside Monroe, raking his hands through his hair and shaking his head. I peered at them, wondering what had transpired.

Final y, Monroe grabbed Connor’s shoulders, pressing the papers against the younger man’s chest. I saw Connor slump, as if he’d given a long sigh, defeated. He took the envelopes from Monroe’s hands and slipped them into his jacket pocket. Monroe squeezed Connor’s shoulder once before coming back toward us. I averted my gaze, stil puzzled by what I’d just witnessed.

“She’s nearly there,” Ethan said as Monroe approached. I turned back to Adne, who leapt and spun in the ecstasy of weaving. Though I’d seen her open doors before, I was stil astonished at the blazing patterns of light that swirled before her.

I started at a sudden presence beside me. Connor stood nearby, silently watching Adne weave. Al traces of his mirth had vanished; his face was now pale, drawn with strain. I glanced at Monroe, again wondering what had taken place between the two men.

Blood roared in my ears as the other side of the shimmering portal came into focus. A dark al ey edged by snowdrifts. In the distance I could just make out a streetlight casting a dul gleam on the shuttered businesses of downtown Vail.

Home.

NINETEEN

IT WAS COLD ON THE
other side of the portal.

Fresh winter air nipped at my skin. I took a deep breath, letting the icy wind pour down my throat. The resulting visceral shudder reached into my very bones, making me feel alive. I ached to run, to howl, to hunt. I watched my breath curl like smoke in front of my eyes.

I glanced behind me and saw Shay’s hazy image pacing before the open doorway. I wished I could reach out and reassure him in some way. When Monroe had given the order, I’d leapt through the portal without a backward glance, not wanting to show any doubts about our mission. Now I regretted not giving him something: a smile at least, or another kiss. I only felt worse when I realized Adne had been the last person to kiss him. She stood beside the portal, swords drawn and face serene as Connor and Ethan scouted the al ey.

“Aren’t you worried someone wil see the light?” I asked, gesturing to the shimmering portal.

“There aren’t any windows in this part of the al ey,”

Adne replied. “That’s why we chose it.”

Her words left me only a bit reassured. At least the door wasn’t as bright as it was during the weaving, but it was stil noticeable, like the twinkling of Christmas lights. It was close enough to the holiday that I hoped we’d be lucky and anyone who saw it would assume that’s what it was.

“We’re clear,” Ethan said, reappearing from the dark al ey. “No obstacles or patrol between here and the side door.”

Connor didn’t speak, his eyes scanning the shadows.

“Good,” Monroe said. “Let’s move.”

Ethan took point with Monroe, and I shifted into wolf form, padding along the al ey on silent paws while Connor brought up the rear. My heartbeat thrummed in my veins, so deafening to my sensitive wolf ears that I could hardly believe it wasn’t audible to the Searchers. None of them spoke or even looked at me. Each of the men’s faces was set as they stalked silently along the narrow corridor.

When we reached the side door, Monroe raised his arm.

“Alarm?”

“No,” Ethan said. “Just the lock.”

“On it.” Connor pul ed something metal from his pocket and moved to the door.

Ethan took up his position guarding our flank.

There was a click and a groan when the door swung open. Monroe and Connor were through the entrance instantly, dropping low, waiting for an attack.

None came.

They exchanged a glance but gestured for us to fol ow. Ethan closed the door behind us.

We slipped down the hal way. My gut twisted, remembering the walk along this hal to Efron’s office. Was the Bane master here now? I lifted my muzzle, testing the air. The club reeked of stale sweat peppered by the lingering, sickly-sweet scent of succubus breath. I pawed at my nose, wishing I could rid myself of the noxious mixture.

As far as I could tel , there were no new scents, nor any movement, in the club. The pounding bass and blur of colorful lights had been replaced by silence and gloom. No dancers, no succubus go-go girls, no Guardians. The only sound was the muffled beat of the Searchers’ footfal s as we crept forward through the shadows. I didn’t find our apparent solitude reassuring. There was too much silence, too much stil ness for a place like Eden that fed off the pulse of blood and lust.

“Here are the stairs,” Connor whispered. He stood at the top of a wrought-iron spiral staircase. I leaned over the railing, watching the tight coil of metal drop down into a bottomless pit of darkness.

“No lights?” Ethan asked.

“Not yet,” Connor said, beginning his descent.

The stairs led down, and down, and down. The sharply turning circle of steps made me dizzy. The darkness enveloped us, making it seem as though I’d closed my eyes and started spinning.

Even with my ability to peer through the darkness, the descent set me on edge. I was grateful when a fluorescent light appeared, growing brighter as we moved down the stairs, washing our surroundings in a greenish gray. The spiral staircase pul ed us further into the club’s depths. I felt like we’d been walking forever. How far into the earth had we traveled?