Chapter 3 - Mark

I ran through the trees, the wind rushing through my fur as we weaved through the forest. My wolf reveled in stretching his legs, enjoying the fresh air even as I focused on the mission we were racing toward.

The smells of the forest wrapped around us as I continued racing with the other Silver Wolves, heading toward the Gold Wolves’ last known location, which was allegedly near Inara’s den.

Half the Silver Wolves had stayed back to protect Brixton in case anything happened to us. We knew what we were getting ourselves into. At the very least, if we were captured or killed, we would have backup to continue the mission.

Once we got close to the spot, the lead wolf slowed to a halt. A moment later, the large wolf that had been there moments earlier turned into Jameson. The rest of us followed suit. Without saying anything, we threw on clothes and slipped identical amulets around our necks.

“Everyone ready?” Jameson asked. When everyone nodded, he said, “Good. Move out.”

We had decided on stealth over brawn. Not our normal tactic, but preferable against someone like Inara.

We knew that Inara would respond to a signal if she got wind of a large spurt of magic in her vicinity. She would likely see it as a threat. So we commissioned one of the trustworthy witches near Brixton to create something that would do just that: create a burst of magic. We had Oliver set it off in the opposite direction we were coming from. We would really only know if it worked when we found Inara’s den, but it was supposed to be strong enough that she would take most of her crew with her, meaning fewer people we would have to deal with.

I didn’t know what sort of route or information Jameson was following, but he seemed to trust it. We followed him through the woods. The amulet designed to protect us from most magic felt cool against my chest, though it should have warmed by now. We trudged on, Jameson pausing every so often to listen and check our surroundings before motioning for us to move forward again.

It didn’t take long to reach what looked like a desecrated cottage, its roof falling in and a rotting door hanging by one hinge. Two of the windows didn’t have glass, and even from this distance, I could see the cobweb-laden interior. The entire place looked empty and abandoned.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Klyte asked. “Because it definitely doesn’t look like the right place.”

“I think that’s supposed to be the point,” Jameson muttered. “Keep your voice down.”

Slowly and with trepidation, Jameson crept forward. He paused when he came to a line of rocks, each spaced a few feet apart.

“Trap,” he muttered, pointing to one of the etchings on one of the stones. “Notifies someone when we cross that line.”

“Will the amulets protect us from it?” Sam asked.

Shaking his head, Jameson bent toward the rock, careful not to lean over the barrier. He pulled out something that looked like a hammer and slammed it down on the stone. It cracked in two. I didn’t notice any difference, but Jameson seemed satisfied.

“It’s safe now,” he said.

“I hope you paid that witch a lot of money,” Klyte said. “Either that or she has a sweet spot for you, considering how much gear she gave you.”

Jameson ignored him, instead nodding toward the cottage. “I’ll bet good money we’ll find what we’re looking for in there.”

Klyte snickered. “In an abandoned building?”

“Seemingly abandoned,” Jameson clarified. He shouldered his bag. “I’m going to go in. If I don’t disintegrate or explode or anything like that, you’ll know it’s safe to come in, all right?”

Without waiting for a response or for any of us to warn him of how potentially dumb this idea was, he stepped through.

“Holy shit,” I heard Jameson say.

I could see through the open door, could see the rotting furniture in the cramped cottage and the cobwebs draping down the grime-covered walls. I could even see Jameson, who had paused momentarily as if stunned.

“Something wrong?” I asked, every inch of me now on alert.

Jameson shook his head. “Nothing like that,” he said. “You’ll see.”

The instant I stepped across the threshold, I understood. The image of the dilapidated cottage melted away, replaced by a massive, opulent hall far too big for the cottage we had just stepped into. I tried to push through my surprise to focus on the mission, but I stumbled for a brief moment, pausing to look at the lush carpet and elegant artwork and tapestries that adorned the walls.

“Witchcraft,” Klyte muttered, looking around. “It never ceases to creep me out and make me insanely jealous at the same time.”

“Not the worst way to conceal a giant manor that doubles as your base of operations,” Jameson mused.

We paused in the threshold, waiting to see if anything would happen. But it seemed that the distraction we had set up for Inara had been convincing enough for her to take the bait. With a jerk of his head and a series of hand gestures, Jameson led us deeper into the house.

It turned out the den was closer to a mansion than the dingy cave I’d been imagining. Without a map, we had no way of knowing where we needed to go. It wasn’t until Jameson opened a door that led down to the basement that we made a breakthrough.

Through the stench of herbs and potions, I could smell the familiar musk of shifters beyond. We were getting close to where they were keeping the Gold Wolves.

We crept down the steps. The entire time, I couldn’t help but marvel over how vast this den was. It seemed to go on forever. Now that we were in the basement, the grandiose richness of the upstairs had vanished, replaced by stone walls and grime. I could smell the damp mixing with the faint scent of shifters.

I approached a corner and peered around it. A tall, thin man sat at the front of a long hall, part of the skeleton crew that Inara had kept in place. So far, he was the only person we had come across.

I turned around to signal to Jameson, who nodded. With silence and speed, I darted out from around the corner and charged toward the man, reaching into my pocket to pull out a rag as I darted toward him.

He shot to his feet, eyes wide with surprise. He opened his mouth and uttered an incantation.

Warmth spread across my chest, radiating out from the talisman pressed against my skin as it absorbed the spell, protecting me from its effect.

The man’s eyes grew even wider as he realized his spell hadn’t worked. This time, when he opened his mouth, I knew it was to sound the alarm. Before he could do anything, I slammed the cloth over their nose and mouth. He resisted for another moment, then collapsed.

I grunted, slipping the cloth soaked in chloroform in my back pocket. Sometimes, human methods were the most effective.

Jameson and Klyte appeared behind me. I crouched, rummaging through the witch’s pocket as I fished around for any keys.

Only to realize there weren’t any.

“Shit,” I said, standing back. I looked down the hall the man had been guarding, which showed a row of doors with barred windows on either side. As I studied them closer and saw the wards etched into each one, I made a sickening realization. None of them had locks.

“Magic,” Jameson said, looking down the hall.

“We got anything to counter it?” I asked.

Jameson raised his eyebrow at me. “Think I wouldn’t be prepared for that? Did you sleep during the prep meetings, and I didn’t notice?”

I shrugged. “I learned to sleep with my eyes open,” I said, cracking a grin.

Jameson rolled his eyes, then pulled the hammer out of his bag again. Yet again, I had to feel relief that there were a few witches around Brixton who actually liked us. Otherwise, there was no telling how we would be able to do any of this.

He slammed the hammer against the wards, which gave a flickering glow for a brief second before the light died. The door swung open, revealing a hulking figure sitting on the bed. His head turned toward us, and he stood. He was a large shifter with jet-black hair. He looked me up and down, nostrils flaring. I recognized him, even if it had been a few years since I’d last seen him.

“Declan?” I asked.

Declan nodded. His eyes darted to each of us in turn, lingering on Jameson. “Silver Wolves, right?” he asked. When Jameson nodded, he grunted in interest. “Thought you guys were retired.”

“Wishful thinking on our part, apparently,” Klyte said.

Declan grunted again. “Guess I should thank you, then,” he said. He gestured at his neck, where a padlocked collar, the type that suppressed a shifter’s ability to change into their wolf, rested. “Any chance you can get this off me, too?”

Jameson removed the collar. Declan let out a satisfied groan as he cracked his neck, first one way, then the other.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Where are the rest of your men?” I asked.

“Around,” he said. “Presumably in the other cells.”

I fished around in my bag, pulling out one of the talismans. “Here.” I threw it to him, and he caught it with one hand. He examined it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction.

“Nice craftsmanship. They took ours when they caught us,” he said.

“How’d they catch you in the first place?” Klyte asked.

“Triggered a trap,” Declan answered, slipping the strap around his neck. The jewel in the center glowed despite the lack of light. “Our talismans weren’t going to do any good against it. We had the option of dying or handing over our talismans and surrendering. Guess which ones we chose?”

“Smart move,” Klyte said. “I’m surprised they let you live.”

He shrugged. “She wanted us for questioning and as bargaining chips,” he said. “I’m not going to question a witch’s motives, especially when it means I get to keep living.” He grunted, cracking his neck from side to side. “Suppose I should thank you for getting us out.”

“You can thank us when we’re all breathing fresh air. Any idea where the witch you’re looking for is?” Jameson asked.

“Not exactly. But I would hear a commotion down that end of the cells fairly regularly. The door opening and closing, and voices.” Declan jerked his head further down the corridor. “If I had to guess, they’re in one of those cells.”

“Right,” Jameson said. “You and your team get out. We’ll find the witch.”

Declan remained where he was. “I’m not leaving without the asset,” he said. “I don’t think you understand just how important she is. If we leave her here, there’s no telling what might happen. That was my mission, and I’m going to see it through. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not leaving that to a few unknowns.”

I rolled my eyes, only I knew we didn’t have time to argue, no matter how badly I wanted to. “What’s so important about this witch, anyway?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you after we’ve gotten them and we’re out of here,” Declan growled. “The whole point is moot if we don’t get out of here.”

We made our way to the other cells, opening each one as we passed them. Five other shifters sat behind the next few doors, each looking as though they were ready for a fight until they saw Declan.

“That’s everyone,” Declan said after the final Gold Wolf positioned himself behind his leader. “Now, we just need to get the witch.”

Without waiting for Jameson to say anything, he pushed his way past and headed further down the hall. His head swiveled from side to side, every inch of him alert and ready to spring, as if expecting someone to jump on us at any moment.

Something that sounded like pebbles tapping against the stone walls sounded through the hall. It fell silent as we approached.

“Give me that hammer you were using,” Declan ordered Jameson, holding out his palm. Jameson raised an eyebrow at his tone but complied.

Declan moved to the door, peering into the room through the barred window. Whatever he saw on the other side must have satisfied him because he slammed the hammer against the door. The wards glowed briefly, then the door moved open.

“You’re not Orin,” a woman’s voice said, something like distrust on the edges of her voice.

“No, I’m not.” Declan’s lip twitched upward. “Are you all right?”

“As all right as I can be. Who are you?” the woman asked.

I frowned, tilting my head. Why did her voice sound so familiar? It tickled something at the back of my head, an old memory I couldn’t place. I tried to look into the cell, but the hall was crowded with shifters, and I couldn’t get a glimpse inside from this position.

“I’m Declan,” Declan said. “We’re here to get you out of here.”

Nothing sounded beyond the door for a long moment.

“How did you know I was here?” the voice asked.

“I can explain all that when we get out of here,” Declan said. “We’re running on borrowed time right now.”

Another pause. “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked. “For all I know, this is one of Inara’s tricks.”

“Would one of Inara’s people break the wards on her cell door?” He gestured at the damage he had caused. “That’s as good as I can give you at the moment. You can either trust me and get out of here, or stay in there.”

I could tell it was a lie based on the look in his eyes. Even if this witch decided to stay, Declan would drag her out of here.

What the hell made her that important?

Another pause. “I’m not going to be of any use right now. I don’t have a wand.”

“That’s fine. We’ve got a way out. We don’t need magic.”

A derisive snort. “What? You’re just going to waltz through the front door?”

“That’s how they got in here,” Declan said, jerking his head back at Jameson. When no response came from inside the cell, he added, “We’re running out of time. Once we get out of here, you can ask all the questions you want. But for now, I need you to trust that we came here for you and we want to get you as far away from Inara as possible.”

“I… all right.” A shuffling sound came as the witch made her way to the entrance to the cell, moving slowly.

“What’s your name?” Declan asked.

The girl’s face emerged as she stepped into the doorway.

My mouth dropped open as recognition slammed into me.

“I’m—” she began.

“Lorelei?” I asked.

Lorelei froze. Her head whipped around, locking onto me. Her mouth dropped open.

“Mark?” she asked.

“You two know each other?” Declan asked, looking between the two of us.

“Yeah.” I kept my eyes glued on her, taking in every inch of her. “Yeah, we were kids together.”

The last time I had seen her, she’d been a gangly, gawky preteen with stringy hair and green eyes that were too big for the rest of her face. If I remembered correctly, I’d called her Bug Girl for a while. Her clothes had always been a little too small for her, and she had shuffled around whenever she showed up in class, hunching over and keeping her eyes locked on the ground.

But now, she’d grown into a gorgeous woman. Long, slender legs with soft curves and a sharp face. Her auburn hair was dirty from days of confinement. Dirt smudged her cheeks and arms, but that didn’t detract from her looks. Her eyes were still large, but in a way that was alluring rather than off-putting. And her scent. Oak and vanilla. Something about it made my wolf stir with interest. It drove him insane. Actually, everything about her drove him insane.

She was bringing out a feral, almost primitive side that I wouldn’t have expected, one that was only about her and making sure she was protected. He didn’t want her out of his sight ever again.

It was so overwhelming that I had a hard time thinking straight. I knew we needed to leave as quickly as possible, but the world seemed to have stopped.

She had been an odd outcast during our childhood, and I’d had no issue taunting her whenever I saw her. Except now, as I looked at her, an overwhelming surge of protectiveness washed over me. I wanted to get closer to her, to pull her against me and drink in her smell. I wanted to keep her safe forever. Not just that, but I needed to be near her in a way I had never experienced before.

She had been in danger for weeks now, confined in a cell. Just the thought made me bristle with indignation. I had no idea what had come over me, but I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her ever again.

Except right now, she was glaring at me with unabashed hatred.

She snorted, her eyes narrowing. “That’s one way of describing it,” she said, her voice ice. She turned back to Declan. “I’m not going anywhere with him.”

Declan blinked. “What?” he asked.

“That asshole made my life hell for years,” she said. “I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

The declaration stung more than I would have expected. But I wasn’t about to listen to it.

“Too bad,” I said. “We’re getting you out even if we have to drag you out.”

She barked out a furious laugh. “You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m going to let you lay a hand on me.”

Declan exhaled, then turned to Lorelei. “If we don’t get you out of here, you know what Inara will do. And if it weren’t for him”—he jerked his head at me—“we wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place. I promise you won’t have to deal with him for long. Just long enough for us to get out of here.”

The reference to Inara seemed to do the trick. Her whole body stiffened at the name, something close to fear flickering in her eyes. I didn’t know what the witch had done to her, but just seeing that expression on Lorelei’s face made me want to tear Inara limb from limb. My wolf snarled, flexing its claws, wanting to break out.

Despite the panic Inara had clearly instilled in her, Lorelei still seemed reluctant. Her fingers drummed against the metal band on her wrist as she thought, her brow furrowed and her mouth a thin line.

She shot me another glare. “Fine,” she said.