TWENTY
NO FLUORESCENT CEILING panels hummed in the Chamber.
Instead tiny lights bobbed and hiccupped, circling the room, the
multitude of oil lanterns signaling us like a somber warning.
Bathed in that wavering, dusky yellow, the broad space yawned like
a hungry maw. I felt as though a jackhammer was at work against my
ribs.
“Did we go through a
time portal or something?” Connor asked.
“Either that or this
is the site of the world’s most depressing Renaissance festival,”
Ethan said, stalking into the room, crossbow at the
ready.
As I glanced around
the space, I tried to swallow my stomach, which wanted to climb out
of my throat. They were right. Unlike the sterile, modern cell
blocks, this room had been constructed from flagstones, piled one
atop the next, like mounds of slugs, a dark slimy gray that looked
perpetually sodden. The dimly lit space was empty save a dais, a
gothic mockery of a stage that jutted out from one wall. Words had
been carved in the stone facing behind the platform.
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
Dante. I shuddered,
thinking of the hellish images that lined the walls of Efron’s
office upstairs and how those scenes were probably re-created in
this chamber. The room smelled of must, cobwebs, urine . . . and
blood. So much blood. I faltered. The scent was overwhelming. Death
poured into my lungs, making my stomach churn. Mason caught my arm,
steadying me.
“I know,” was all he
said.
My eyes kept
wandering to the dais, though I tried to tear them away. My mother
had been killed there. Murdered by Emile Laroche while my father
was made to watch. My brother had been mutilated. And Ren. What had
they done to Ren? Tears burned trails along my face until Monroe
rested his hand against my cheek, his thumb brushing away the
stinging saltwater.
“Someday all of this
will be torn down, stone by stone,” he said. “That is why we
fight.”
I nodded, unable to
speak.
“The cell blocks
branch out from each side of the room,” Mason said, pointing to the
nearest door—a mirror image of the one we’d just passed
through.
“Is it always
empty?” Monroe asked, his question echoing through the cavernous
Chamber, emphasizing his point.
“Not when I’ve been
here,” Mason said. “It’s been packed with Guardians waiting for the
Keepers’ decrees.”
“I don’t like it,”
Ethan said.
“Neither do I,”
Monroe said, glancing at me. “Can you lead us to the
others?”
I took a breath and
almost retched. The remnants of torment had oozed into the floor. I
felt like I was trying to track a scent amid a pile of decaying
corpses. Nausea made me waver on my feet again.
“Not here,” I said.
“Maybe in the blocks, like the one we just left.”
“We should do this
as quickly as possible,” Monroe said. “Connor, Ethan, and the
wolves take point while I try the doors.”
We moved to the
south door first. Monroe picked the lock while Connor and Ethan
kept their eyes on the room, scanning for signs of an ambush. Both
Mason and Nev were in wolf form now, circling our group, testing
the air, their ears flattened, fangs bared against the assault of
violent scents that swirled around us.
Monroe opened the
door and I followed him inside. Though still unpleasant, the scents
inside the block didn’t overwhelm. I took a few steps forward
before shifting into human form.
“This one’s empty,”
I said. “Next block.”
“No luck?” Ethan
asked when we returned to the Chamber.
Monroe shook his
head.
“Where to next?”
Connor rolled back his tight shoulders, eyes still traveling over
each point of access to the Chamber.
“West block,” Monroe
said, moving across the room. I glanced around the room. The order
Monroe had selected meant we’d search the north block last if we
didn’t find everyone in the next set of cells. The north block lay
nearest to the dais—and I wanted to go nowhere near the stones that
were stained with my mother’s blood. Would her blood stand out amid
the stains? Would I fall apart if I caught her scent spilled across
those stones?
As I pulled my eyes
off the dais, I thought I saw movement, as if the shadows near the
ceiling had shuddered. I stopped, peering into the
darkness.
“Calla?” Ethan
paused by my side.
I waited, watching
the spot where I thought I’d caught movement. Only shadows rested
there. My racked nerves were making me see things.
“It’s nothing,” I
said, hurrying after Monroe.
When we reached the
south door, Nev whimpered, scratching at the space between the door
frame and the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
Monroe asked.
Nev shifted forms.
“I can smell Sabine. She’s in there. Other wolves
too.”
Mason whined,
turning in circles, head bent low.
“How many others?”
Connor’s grip on his swords tightened.
“I’m not sure,” Nev
said. “But it’s not only Sabine on the other side.”
“What about the rest
of your pack?” I asked. “Is Ren inside?”
“If he is, the other
wolves are covering his scent,” Nev said. “I can’t pick it
up.”
“But you can smell
this Sabine?” Ethan frowned.
“She smells like
jasmine—it’s a distinct scent. Easy to pick out even in a
crowd.”
“Uh . . . okay,”
Ethan said, his eyes growing curious. “Jasmine?”
“Can we talk perfume
later?” Connor snapped. “I’m guessing we have a fight waiting
behind this door.”
“We’re ready,” Nev
said, shifting back into wolf form, hackles rising as he
growled.
“I’m opening the
door now,” Monroe said. “Be ready for anything.”
The lock clicked.
The door opened. I shifted forms, hackles raised.
The hall was empty,
identical to the others we’d already searched.
“Which door?” Monroe
whispered, looking at Nev.
Nev stalked past the
first two cells, muzzle tracking low, sniffing. Mason stayed on his
heels, ears flat against his head.
He paused in front
of the far door on the right and looked at Monroe, who nodded.
Connor and Ethan had their weapons raised as Monroe turned the
doorknob. He hesitated, glancing at the others.
Not locked, he mouthed.
The Searchers
exchanged a grim look, setting their shoulders as Monroe swung the
door open.
I heard the snarls
before two elder Banes leapt from the cell. The first slammed into
Connor, yelping when a dagger slid between its ribs. Two of Ethan’s
bolts lodged in the second wolf’s chest. It hit the ground, yelping
but still on its feet, and whirled to strike again. Mason launched
himself at the wounded Bane. They rolled along the floor, a furious
tangle of teeth and claws tearing at each other. Nev rushed to
Mason’s aid. Ethan ducked into the room.
“Go with him,
Calla,” Monroe said. “If your packmates are inside, they’ll need
you to convince them we’re allies.”
I nodded and slipped
into the cell. Ethan was staring down at a third Bane, who was
crouched in front of a limp figure along one wall. I saw the spill
of dark hair, the curve of slender limbs barely covered by the
shreds of a dress. Sabine. She wasn’t moving. My blood ran cold.
Was she dead?
“Calla?” I turned at
the sound of my name and I thought my heart would burst. Bryn gazed
at me, eyes wide with disbelief. She was chained to the wall just
as Mason and Nev had been. Her face was thin, cheeks hollow, her
own dress only slightly less tattered than Sabine’s. My throat
closed as I realized they were still in the gowns they’d been
wearing the night of the union—or what was left of
them.
I yelped, starting
toward her, but stopped when I heard Ethan’s low
voice.
“If you know what’s
good for you, you’ll step away from the girl,” he said, taking aim
at the Bane snarling in front of Sabine.
The wolf’s ears
flattened, keeping its eyes locked on Ethan. It bent over Sabine,
its fangs close to her throat. I could hear the vicious pleasure in
its low, steady growl.
She moaned softly,
eyes fluttering open. The rush of relief that she was still alive
was overrun by horror as the Bane lowered its muzzle, taking
Sabine’s neck in its jaws.
“Calla, you have to
do something!” Bryn shouted, straining against her bonds. “Efron
ordered the Banes to kill her if anyone attempted a
rescue.”
I wheeled, focusing
on the other wolf.
Ethan was already
moving. With a shout, he tossed his crossbow away, barreling into
the startled wolf. Human and Guardian crashed to the ground. Ethan
swore when the wolf’s teeth sank into his shoulder. I lunged across
the room. The wolf moved to strike again, its attention fully on
Ethan. My jaws sank into the wolf’s shoulder. Blood spurted and I
heard a crunch as my teeth hit bone. The Guardian squealed,
twisting to attack me. I rolled along the floor away from its
snapping jaws. That split second of distraction was all Ethan
needed. He drew his dagger, sliding beneath the wolf, and thrust
the blade up into its throat. The wolf shuddered and went still.
Its limp body dropped to the floor when Ethan kicked it off of his
dagger.
Sabine’s hand was at
her throat and she was staring at Ethan. He went to her side,
touching her arm gingerly.
“Are you hurt?” he
asked, eyes moving over her body. He looked away, blushing when he
realized how much flesh her torn dress revealed.
“No,” she whispered,
still watching him. “Who are you?”
“Ethan,” he said,
clearing his throat while trying to find a safe place for his eyes.
“I’m here to help you.”
She drew a sharp
breath. “You’re a Searcher.”
He nodded, finally
meeting her gaze. “But I’m on your side.”
I almost choked, not
because of the blood in my mouth, but because I’d never imagined
those words could come from Ethan.
“I thought I was
going to die.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I was certain of it.
He said I would never leave him and live.”
“Who said?” Ethan
slowly reached out, touching her cheek. I saw that his fingers were
shaking.
It was Bryn who
answered. “Efron.”
“Efron Bane?” As if
remembering himself, Ethan snatched back his hand and pivoted to
face Bryn. “The Keeper.”
She nodded. “He . .
. likes to keep Sabine close. I think he took her choice
personally.”
“What do you mean,
close?” Ethan frowned. Sabine met his eyes and something seemed to
pass between them.
His fist closed.
“God damn that bastard.”
Sabine looked away,
another tear sliding down her cheek.
I shifted forms,
taking a step toward Sabine. “What choice?”
“He said I could
swear a new oath of fealty,” she whispered, more tears coursing
over her skin. “Return to Emile’s pack if I denounced you and your
packmates.”
A choice. The
Keepers or me. I shuddered.
“I wouldn’t,” Sabine
continued, grimacing before she brushed the moisture from her
cheeks. “I don’t know why you left, Calla, but what they did to
Ansel . . . I knew they would do the same to Mason and Bryn. I
couldn’t be part of that.”
“Efron came down
hard on her,” Bryn said. “The wraiths were here every day. And only
for her. They came for me a lot less. Four, maybe five times. I got
off easy.”
“I wouldn’t say
that.” Sabine offered her a weak smile. “Once is hard
enough.”
“I’m so sorry for
what you’ve been through.” I knelt beside Bryn.
She hugged me so
tightly I couldn’t breathe. “I’m just glad you’re
alive.”
“I’m so sorry,” I
whispered again, horror crawling under my skin. I might have been a
captive, but I had been safe, well treated, and far from the agony
that my packmates had been subjected to day after day since I’d
fled Vail.
“Don’t,” she said.
“You didn’t do it. They did.”
“I know,
but—”
She cut me off,
choking out words. “Cal—I don’t know what they did to Ansel after
they hurt him. I think he might be . . .”
“No.” I grabbed her
shoulders, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I know what they did to
him, Bryn. It’s horrible, but he’s not dead. He’s safe. He found me
and Shay.”
“He is?” Her voice
shook, eyes wide, desperate to believe me but not trusting my
words.
“I swear you’ll see
him as soon as we get to Denver.”
Connor burst into
the cell, swords dripping blood. Mason and Nev were just behind
him, their muzzles the same crimson as Connor’s blades. “We under
control in here?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said.
“Can you get her out of those?” He gestured to Bryn’s chained
wrists, turning his own attention to Sabine’s shackled limbs. “I’ve
got this.”
Mason followed
Connor to Bryn’s side. He changed forms and bit his wrist, letting
her take his blood while Connor freed her. Ethan made room for Nev,
who knelt beside Sabine.
“You holding up
okay?” Nev whispered, extending his arm toward her.
“Barely,” she said,
sinking her teeth into his flesh.
Ethan hovered over
them, watching as Sabine’s sallow complexion flushed with new life.
I heard him expel a long breath when she raised her face and
smiled.
“How do you feel
now?” he murmured.
“I’ll be fine,” she
said, sounding shy in a way I’d never witnessed from Sabine. She
lifted her eyes to meet his. “You saved my life.”
It was Ethan’s turn
to avert his gaze. “I—uh . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck,
fumbling for words.
Free of the chains,
Sabine leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck,
pulling him into an embrace.
“Thank you,” she
said. “Thank you so much.”
He stiffened in her
arms, his tensed muscles finally easing when she didn’t pull back.
He let his cheek briefly rest against her hair.
“Jasmine,” he
murmured.
“What?” Sabine
asked, looking up at him.
He cleared his
throat. “You’re welcome.”
“Even a Searcher.”
Nev snickered. “Only you, Sabine. I swear.”
“What are you
talking about?” She glanced at Nev, frowning. Nev just
grinned.
“Never mind,” Ethan
said quickly, clearing his throat while casting a cold glance at
Nev. He freed himself from her arms, rising. Sabine smiled again,
only for him, and Ethan looked a little dazed.
Nev chuckled,
shaking his head.
“What’s so funny?”
Sabine asked as he helped her stand.
Monroe appeared in
the doorway before Nev could answer. “Who did we
find?”
“Two more,” I said,
gesturing to the girls. “Bryn and Sabine.”
His face fell a
little. “No sign of the rest?”
I shook my head,
knowing we both shared the same creeping sense of despair. We
hadn’t found Ren. I wondered if we would.
“If they’re healed,
we need to move,” Monroe said. “We still have others to look
for.”
“Can we afford
another ambush?” Connor asked. “The Keepers obviously were
expecting us; this first group might just be the beginning. The
next fight we encounter could be much, much worse.”
“We’re finishing
what we started,” Monroe said. “And our numbers have
doubled.”
Connor opened his
mouth to protest, but Monroe shook his head.
“We finish this,”
Monroe said. He turned his back before Connor could reply, already
walking swiftly down the hall.