54. Fifty-Three

The chains bit into my wrists, cold iron chafing against skin rubbed raw from days of straining against my bonds. A growl rumbled deep in my chest as I yanked at the metal links, ignoring the fresh trickle of blood that dripped down my arms. Pain was meaningless. A fleeting distraction from the all-consuming hunger that clawed at my insides, the insatiable need to hunt, to rend, to devour.

How long had they kept me locked in this fetid hole? A week? A month? Time blurred, marked only by the infrequent arrival of some faceless lackey shoving a tray of rancid slop through the slot in the door. As if that vile filth could sate the ravenous beast inside me. I needed meat, fresh and hot and dripping with coppery blood. I needed to feel flesh tear beneath my teeth, bones snap in my jaws.

My tongue slid over my canines, saliva flooding my mouth at the thought. Eli's face flashed through my mind, those striking blue eyes wide and frightened beneath a shock of white-gold hair. My Eli. My perfect, precious little rabbit. Trapped somewhere in this labyrinthine hellhole, alone and afraid. The need to find him, to rip apart any who dared lay a hand on him, surged through me like molten lava.

A metallic screech pierced the air, the sound of rusted hinges long neglected. I froze, every muscle coiled tight as a bowstring. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second until they halted just outside my cell. The jangle of keys, the scrape of the lock. I shifted my weight forward onto the balls of my feet, readying myself.

The door swung open, and a guard stepped inside, his hand resting on the baton at his hip. He was a big man, thick through the chest and shoulders, but soft. Complacent. I could smell the stale coffee and day-old donuts on his breath, could hear the sluggish thud of his heartbeat. He thought he was safe behind his badge and his billy club. He thought the chains made me weak.

He was wrong.

I let my body go slack, slumping against the wall as if in defeat. The toe of a boot nudged my leg, and I lunged, a vicious blur of speed and ferocity. The chains snapped taut, jerking me to a brutal stop mere inches from the man's startled face. He reeled back with a shout, fumbling for the gun at his hip. Too slow.

My fingers closed around his wrist, yanking him forward with a vicious twist. Bones crunched beneath my grip as the guard's wrist shattered. His scream pierced the air, high and shrill with agony, but it was music to my ears. I bared my teeth in a feral grin, reveling in the hot splash of blood against my skin as I wrenched him closer, sinking my fangs into the meat of his throat.

He thrashed and bucked, his free hand scrabbling uselessly at my face, my hair, but I held fast. My jaws clamped tight, tearing at his flesh like a rabid dog. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth, hot and intoxicating, igniting a firestorm of hunger in my belly. I needed more. Craved it with every fiber of my being.

I wrenched my head to the side, ripping out the guard's throat in a gout of crimson. He made a wet, gurgling sound, his eyes bulging in their sockets as he clawed at the gaping ruin of his throat. But it was too late. I watched with vicious satisfaction as the life drained from his eyes, his body sagging to the filthy concrete in a boneless heap.

I spat out a mouthful of gore, my chest heaving with the force of my bloodlust. The keys. I had to find the keys. With a growl, I patted down the body until I found the ring of keys hanging at his side.

The keys felt cold and heavy in my blood-slicked hand, the jagged metal teeth biting into my palm as I gripped them tight. I jammed the key into the lock on my shackles, twisting until the rusted metal gave way. The chains slithered to the floor in a clatter, freeing my aching wrists at last. I flexed my fingers, relishing the new range of motion, the renewed strength surging through my muscles.

I stepped over the guard's cooling corpse, the sticky crimson puddle spreading across the concrete. The scent of fresh blood hung thick in the air, metallic and intoxicating. I wanted to stay there, to tear him apart, to feed and revel in the victory of another successful hunt, but I had work to do.

I had to find Eli, had to free him and then the rest of my family. Together, we would paint these halls with the blood of our enemies, leave a trail of ruination in our wake until we were free.

I prowled into the corridor on silent feet, every sense honed razor-sharp. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting twitching shadows across the white walls. The stench of fear hung thick in the air, a heady perfume that made my mouth water and my pulse quicken. I could practically taste their terror on my tongue, sharp and bitter like unripened fruit. They knew I was coming, could sense the approach of death like a gathering storm.

I stalked down the corridor, my footsteps near silent on the cold concrete. The blood of my first kill was already drying on my hands, flaking off in rusty red chips, but the thrill of it still sang through my veins. I was a predator among sheep, a wolf set loose in the fold.

A door opened to my left and a man in a white coat stepped out. When he saw me, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared, wide eyed. I moved without thought, instinct taking over as I lunged for him. He tried to flee, but I was faster, my hand clamping down on his shoulder. Bones crunched beneath my fingers as I wrenched him around, slamming him face-first into the wall.

He cried out in pain, but his cries fell on deaf ears. I seized a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to expose the vulnerable column of his throat. My eyes caught on the ID badge clipped to his lapel. Dr. Han. Not a name I knew and therefore no one of importance.

“Where is the boy?” I growled.

“What boy?”

“ My boy. Eli Baker. Where is he?”

The doctor whimpered, his pulse fluttering wildly beneath my fingers like a caged bird. “I don't know! Please, I'm just a lab technician, I don't know anything about—”

I slammed his head against the concrete, a wet crunch echoing through the hallway. Blood splattered the wall, glistening in the harsh fluorescent light. “Wrong answer.”

I spun him around, clamping my hand over his mouth before he could scream. His eyes bulged as he stared up at me, tears and snot mingling with the blood streaming from his shattered nose. The sharp, coppery scent set my nerves alight, stoking the hunger that gnawed at my bones.

“Let's try this again,” I said, my voice a low, deadly purr.

I cocked my head, listening intently. The tromp of booted feet echoed down the corridor—a squad of armed men rapidly approaching our position. Dr. Han's eyes widened in hope and fear.

I dragged Dr. Han in front of me as a living shield, one arm locked around his scrawny neck, the other hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his pathetic whimpers. The stench of his terror filled my nostrils, sharp and acrid like vinegar. It only stoked the raging inferno inside me, the all-consuming need to rend and tear and paint the walls crimson.

Heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor, a phalanx of armed men storming toward us in a tight formation. Their tactical gear was matte black, bristling with spare magazines and grenades. Full face helmets obscured their features, the reflective visors giving them an insectile appearance, cold and inhuman. The red laser sights of their assault rifles danced over my chest, seeking a clean shot.

I bared my teeth in a feral grin, a dark chuckle rumbling up from my chest. They thought their Kevlar and their fancy weapons made them strong, made them powerful. But they were soft, weak. Fragile little things just waiting to be crushed beneath my heel.

“Release the hostage!” the lead man barked, his voice distorted by the helmet's speaker. “Get on your knees with your hands behind your head!”

I tightened my grip on Dr. Han, savoring the way he squirmed and thrashed like a worm on a hook. “You want him?” I called, my tone mocking. “Come and get him.”

I hurled Dr. Han at the armored phalanx with bone-crushing force. He slammed into the lead man, the impact sending them both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and equipment. The formation broke apart as the men tried to avoid tripping over their fallen comrade, their panicked shouts echoing off the narrow walls.

I leapt over Dr. Han's crumpled body. The nearest man barely had time to react before my claws dug into the soft, exposed flesh of his throat. He tried to bring his gun up, but I slammed him into the nearby wall. Muzzle flashes lit up the hallway as he fired, but every bullet missed, striking his comrades instead. I dug my fingers in until red rivulets ran down my arm and wrenched a glob of soft human meat free. He went down with a wet gurgle.

I seized the rifle of the next man, wrenching it out of his hands with a vicious twist that snapped his trigger finger like a dry twig. His scream pierced the air as I flipped the rifle on him and fired three rounds at his center mass. One hit above the Kevlar and he fell, red blossoming.

Muzzle flash strobed in the close confines of the corridor as I opened fire, bullets chewing through Kevlar and flesh. Hot blood splattered my face, filled my nostrils with its coppery perfume. It tasted of victory, of dominance over weaker prey.

The last man standing backed away, hands shaking as he tried to reload. I stalked toward him, letting the rifle drop from my hands with a clatter. His fear was a tangible thing, thick and cloying. It clung to my tongue, slid down my throat to feed the insatiable beast in my belly.

He trembled wildly as he fought to reload, but I got to him first. I yanked the rifle away and lifted him from the floor with a hand around his throat. “Where. Is. Eli?”

The guard dangled from my grip, his legs kicking feebly as he scrabbled at my fingers. “P-Please,” he choked out, his voice thin and reedy. “I don't know, I swear! They don't tell us anything!”

I snarled, tightening my grip until he made a strangled, gurgling noise. Useless. They were all useless, these soft, mewling sheep. Not even worth the effort of killing.

I flung the guard away from me in disgust. He hit the wall with a meaty thud and slid to the floor, gasping and retching. The stench of urine cut through the coppery tang of blood. He'd pissed himself. Pathetic.

I stepped over the bodies littering the hallway, their blood squelching beneath my bare feet. The reek of fear and desperation hung thick in the air as I prowled down the hallway, a predator on the hunt. Blood squelched between my toes, still warm from the guards I had slaughtered. The beast inside me growled in satisfaction, but it would not be sated until I found my Eli.

A familiar scent caught my attention, strong enough to pierce through the haze of bloodlust. I paused outside one of the many cell doors, nostrils flaring. Beneath the stale odors of unwashed bodies and human misery, I detected a hint of pack. Of family. Warrick.

I tried the handle of the nearby cell door, but of course it was locked. No matter. Growling, I sorted through the keys on the ring I’d seized from the first guard.

I jammed key after key into the lock, growling in frustration as each one failed to open the door. “Warrick,” I called into the gloom, my voice a guttural rasp. “You alive in there?”

A rustling from the shadows, the clink of chains. Then Warrick's face appeared at the tiny barred window. “Shepherd?”

“Keres,” I corrected.

“Fuck, that’s just what we need,” came River’s annoyed voice. He must’ve been in there too.

“I could just leave you, you know,” I growled back.

“The fuck you will,” River snapped. “Hurry up and get us out of here before more guards show up.”

I finally found the right key, the lock clicking open with a satisfying snick. The door swung inward, hinges screaming in protest. Warrick and River blinked owlishly in the sudden light. They were both shackled to the far wall, the chains just long enough to let them reach the filthy toilet in the corner. The stench of stale sweat and human waste hung thick in the air, undercut by the coppery tang of dried blood.

“You two look like shit,” I drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked smirk.

Warrick rolled his eyes. “You're one to talk. Is that brain matter in your hair?”

River rattled his chains impatiently. “As touching as this little reunion is, can we save the snark until after you unchain us, Kujo?”

I flipped him off with a bloody finger but stepped into the cell, keys jangling. The shackles fell away and Warrick rubbed his chafed wrists with a wince. River pushed himself to his feet with a groan, joints popping from too long spent on the hard concrete.

“The others?” Warrick asked.

I shrugged, tossing the keys up and catching them. “Haven't found them yet. Been a bit busy redecorating the walls. I like the red better.”

River snorted, stretching out his shoulders. “Surprised you had time for interior design with how long it took you to find us.”

I flashed him a blood-stained grin. “I stopped for lunch.”

Warrick cut in before our banter could escalate further. “As much as I'd love to watch you two compare dick sizes all day, maybe we should focus on finding the others and getting the hell out of here?”

I nodded and pushed off the door frame. “Try to keep up.”

Warrick grimaced as we stepped over the bodies littering the hallway, carefully avoiding the spreading pools of blood. “Couldn't you have been a little neater about this, Keres? It's like a Tarantino movie out here.”

River deliberately stomped through a particularly large puddle, sending droplets of blood splattering across the pristine white walls.

Warrick shuddered, his face paling. “That's disgusting. God, I can’t wait to get out of here and take a shower.”

River snorted, yanking a semi-automatic rifle from the slack grip of a fallen guard. He checked the magazine with deft movements. “Jesus, Warrick, it's just a little blood. You’re a fucking surgeon.”

“I get to wear PPE during surgery.” Warrick gestured at the gore-streaked corridor, his voice pitching higher. “Do you see any nitrile gloves around? Any disposable surgical gowns?”

I rolled my eyes at Warrick's bitching. He'd always been the squeamish one, more at home in a sterile operating theater than a blood-soaked battlefield. But we didn't have time for his delicate sensibilities. Eli was waiting for me, trapped and alone, and I would carve a path of destruction through this whole godforsaken complex to reach him.

“Suck it up, Princess,” River growled, and shoved a gun at him.

We stalked down the hallway with renewed purpose. The itch beneath my skin grew with every step, the beast inside me howling for more blood, more violence. It wouldn't be satisfied until I held my precious little rabbit safe in my arms once more and painted the walls with the entrails of those who took him from me.

We turned a corner and found ourselves facing another phalanx of guards, their armored bodies bristling with weapons. They fanned out in formation, assault rifles trained on our chests. “Put down your weapons or we will open fire!”

River hefted his stolen rifle, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. “Looks like they sent out the welcome wagon. Dibs on the big one.”

“I saw him first,” I snarled.

“Children, please,” Warrick sighed, but there was an edge of tension beneath his exasperated tone.

As if on cue, the lead guard raised a fist, his voice crackling over his helmet's speaker. “Fire at will!”

The hallway exploded into deafening chaos as the guards unleashed a hail of bullets. Chunks of plaster exploded from the walls as rounds buried themselves into the drywall. I dove into an open doorway as bullets whizzed past, embedding themselves in the wall with puffs of powdered concrete. The acrid stench of cordite burned my nostrils. River and Warrick took cover behind the thick metal frame, returning fire in controlled bursts.

When the firing slowed, I surged from cover, opening fire as I advanced. Behind me, Warrick cursed, but I didn’t have time to worry about their positioning. My brothers could take care of themselves. My gun suddenly clicked, out of bullets, but I was practically on top of the nearest enemy, so I swung it down on him like a club, beating him bloody.

Weapons turned on me, but no one got the chance to fire before Warrick and River threw themselves into the crowd of gunmen, shooting, punching, kicking, doing whatever they could to subdue the enemy.

I wrenched my makeshift club free from the guard's ruined face with a vicious twist, reveling in the wet squelch of shattered bone and pulped flesh. Blood splattered across my skin, hot and slick, igniting the raging inferno inside me.

Gunfire stuttered, then fell silent. The last of the guards crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap, his helmet skittering across the concrete. I spun, chest heaving, a savage grin on my blood-smeared face. River and Warrick stood amongst the carnage, their own faces splashed with gore.

“That all you got, you coward?” I roared, my voice echoing down the empty hallway. “Come on, send me more! I'll rip out their fucking throats and paint the walls with their blood!”

River wiped at his face, only succeeding in smearing the blood further. “Jesus, Keres, calm down. I think we got them all.”

Warrick kicked a dead guard over with the toe of his boot, his face a stoic mask. “For now. There'll be more coming soon enough. We need to keep moving.”

I was about to storm off down the hallway, hunger for blood still raging through my veins, when a new scent hit me, one that froze me in my tracks. Beneath the cloying stench of death, I caught the unmistakable scent of my mate.

I whirled around, nostrils flaring as I sought the source of that tantalizing scent. There, at the end of the gore-spattered hallway, stood a familiar figure. Tall and dark-haired, with cold, calculating eyes and a cruel twist to his lips. Algerone, and he’d brought his pet, Agent Valentine, as back up.

And there, clutched tight to his chest with a gun to his head... Eli. My Eli. His blue eyes were wide and frightened above the hand clamped over his mouth, white-blond hair disheveled. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut, white-hot rage surging through my veins.

A low, menacing growl rumbled up from my chest as I took a step forward, lips peeling back from my bloodstained teeth. River and Warrick tensed beside me, their own faces hardening into masks of cold fury.

A snarl ripped from my throat at the sight of the gun pressed to Eli’s head. “Let him go right fucking now or I'll rip out your fucking spine and choke you with it.”

Algerone's lip curled in a sneer. “Put down your weapons. Put your hands above your heads and get on the ground now and maybe I’ll let the law execute you.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms until hot blood dripped onto the concrete. River and Warrick exchanged glances.

“Do it!” Algerone snapped. “Do it right now or I swear I’ll kill every last one of you myself!”

Valentine's sudden movement snapped my gaze to him. The grim-faced agent drew his sidearm in one fluid motion, the barrel swinging up to press against Algerone's temple. Algerone froze, eyes widening in shock and fury.

“Just what the fuck do you think you're doing, Valentine?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“What I should've done a long time ago,” Valentine growled. “Release the boy.”

Algerone's lip curled in a sneer even as his eyes darted between Valentine's gun and my murderous glare. “I thought we had an understanding.”

“We do,” Valentine said coolly. “As long as you understand I won’t compromise my principals for cash. Plus, this has gone on way too long. I’m fucking tired. My knee hurts and it’s past my fucking bedtime. So, in the interest of wrapping this shit up in a nice, neat little bow with as little paperwork as possible… Let the fucking kid go.”

Algerone snarled and shoved Eli away from him.

My little rabbit stumbled and fell to his knees, gulping down ragged breaths between choked sobs.

I lunged forward, a roar tearing from my throat as I seized Eli and clutched him to my chest. His scent flooded my nostrils, sweat and fear tinged. I buried my face in his hair, rumbling deep in my chest as I scented him, re-marking him as mine.

Eli clung to me, slender body wracked with tremors. Hot tears soaked into my filthy shirt as he pressed closer, trying to burrow into my skin. “Keres,” he whimpered, my name a broken litany on his lips.

I held him tighter, mindful of my strength, even in the grip of my possessive rage. River and Warrick closed ranks around us, weapons pointed at Algerone. Valentine kept his gun trained on Algerone, who threw his hands up in surrender.

“There!” Algerone declared. “You got what you wanted.”

“Not quite yet,” Valentine said. “The next thing you’re going to do is push that button on your watch that lets you talk to your lackey with the tablet. You’re going to tell him to release everyone you’re holding over them. Daniella and her baby, all the Laskins…Everyone.”

“Are you insane?” Algerone hissed, glaring at Valentine. “You want those criminals back out on the street?”

“Yes,” Valentine barked. “I want the Laskins and all their friends back out where they can do some goddamn good.”

“They’re murderers, Ash! What about your fucking principles?”

Valentine shot a long look over Algerone’s shoulder at us. “I’ve been in the FBI twenty years. Twenty fucking years. Do you know how many collars have gotten off on a technicality? Mishandled evidence. Fake alibis. Goddamn lawyers .” He shifted his grip on his gun. “The system is so fucking tied up with red tape that we let more killers go than we ever put behind bars. Maybe the Laskins are killers, but dammit, the world fucking needs someone to do what the law can’t.”

Algerone hesitated, his face blank. He looked at us for a long moment before closing his eyes and letting out a shuddering sigh. “Fine. I have what I wanted. I have my sons back. And this… This needs to end.” He raised his other hand slowly, fingers inching toward the sleek black watch encircling his wrist. “Maxime, release the prisoners. All of them.”

A tinny voice crackled from the watch's tiny speaker, confusion evident even through the distortion. “Sir? Are you certain—”

“Just do it!” Algerone snapped.

“Right away, sir.”

Satisfaction curled hot and vicious in my gut as I imagined the cell doors clicking open one by one, my pack staggering out into the light, blinking away the darkness.

In my arms, Eli shuddered, a broken little sob escaping him. I rumbled deep in my chest, the sound more animal than human, and nuzzled into his hair. Beneath the tang of fear-sweat and blood, his scent shone through, bright and sweet. Perfect. Mine.

I shifted him in my arms, tucking his face into the crook of my neck as I pinned Algerone with a feral stare. “You took what's mine,” I growled. “I should rip out your fucking throat.”

Valentine lifted the gun from Algerone’s head, pointing it at the ceiling. “But you won’t. This truce has to go two ways. Nobody else is going to die here. You’re going to take your family and go. Everybody is.”

A snarl pulled at my lips, the beast inside me howling for blood, for vengeance.

River snorted. “Who died and made you God?”

“Nobody,” Valentine replied. “But I’ve got a file with your name on it—with all of your names on it—and if you want me to lose it, you’ll do as I say.”

“And if we don’t?” Warrick demanded. “Who says we can’t just kill you like we have everyone else down here?”

Valentine’s jaw clenched. “I’m not stupid. Kill me and everything I have on you and your family will transmit straight to ViCAP at the FBI. I’m the only one who can stop that from happening, and only if you let me walk away from this.”

Eli's warmth pressed against me, his scent filling my lungs with every breath, but it wasn't enough to quell the raging fury in my veins. I wanted to paint the walls with Algerone's entrails, to feel his bones snap beneath my hands, to watch the light fade from his eyes as I crushed the life from him.

“Keres,” Eli whispered against me. “Please. Let it go. Let it end. For me.”

Eli's soft plea cut through the haze of bloodlust like a knife, his voice a balm to the raging beast inside me. I tightened my arms around him, burying my nose in his hair and breathing deep. His scent filled my lungs, sweet and familiar, chasing away the bitter stench of fear and death. He was here, warm and alive and safe in my embrace. Mine.

A rumbling growl vibrated through my chest as I nuzzled into his neck. The urge to rend and tear, to paint the walls crimson with the blood of those who dared to take him from me, still simmered beneath my skin, but Eli's presence soothed the jagged edges of my fury. His slender fingers curled into my shirt, anchoring me, grounding me in the here and now.

“Do as he says,” I ground out. “Algerone can keep his miserable life as long as he also keeps his word this time.”