by Cheree Alsop
Everyone stared at him. Alex fought back an embarrassed smile at their shocked expressions.
“Huh,” Chet said. “I guess he won’t do too badly.”
Trent gave Alex a thumb’s up when the others left, but didn’t say anything they would overhear on the ear monitors. The pride that shone on his friend’s face warmed Alex.
“Ready?” Brock asked into his ear.
“Ready,” Alex answered.
A moment later, the lights shut down.
“Low and fast,” Alex said quietly. “Take out all guards. We don’t want to alert Drogan if he’s in there. He’ll have at least three escape routes if I know him at all.”
The near silent buzz of darts from their guns answered. A shadow fell near the porch. Dray caught him before he hit the ground and pulled the man out of sight. Two others disappeared.
After a second, Kaynan said quietly through their earpieces, “All clear. There’s lots of movement inside, but no one seems concerned. We need to hurry before they call for their guards to check in.”
“Got it. Move in,” Alex commanded.
He ran down the hill with Trent on his right and Cassie and Tennison on his left. They reached the back door just as Kaynan and Rafe crept through. At Alex’s motion, the professors angled left. Alex’s gun felt warm in his hand as he led the others to the right.
Two shadows appeared in the darkness. Alex shot each square in the chest. He dove forward to catch the first before the guard knocked a chair to the floor. Trent grabbed the second, but the man fell against a marble bust. It teetered, then tumbled backwards. Alex cringed, but only a muted thud followed.
“That’s why you need girls,” Cassie whispered. A quick glance showed that the bust had fallen on a pillow.
“How did you do that?” Tennison asked.
She lifted her shoulders with a grin.
“Thanks,” Alex whispered. “Stay alert.”
The smell of blood touched Alex’s nose. He reached the landing. Stairs led to the basement while another set went to the second floor.
“Any sign of movement in the basement?” Alex asked in a whisper. His senses strained. While he heard confusion in the darkness upstairs, below was quiet. Kaynan and Rafe met them in the hall. Chet and Vance paused close behind.
“Heat signatures aren’t reading belowground,” Siale replied. “But the equipment might not be able to pick up through the building material. The mansion has a strange layout.”
Alex motioned to Vance. “Take a quick look below. If things are sketchy, don’t take any risks. Call us and we’ll bring the team.”
“The Black Team is here,” Dray said over their ear monitors.
“I’ve got them on the frequency,” Brock said.
“Good,” Alex replied. “Darian, take the second floor from the outside. By the sound of things, the more, the merrier. We’ll go as soon as you give the word.”
“Ten-four,” Darian’s gruff voice replied.
A few seconds later, he said, “Go.”
Alex led his team upstairs while Chet and Vance went down. Alex’s footsteps were silent on the stairs. He could hear the confusion as the Black Team broke through the windows. Alex reached the top step and dove to the left. Trent did the same to the right, leaving Cassie and Tennison to clear out the center.
Two shots took down two guards. Alex rolled and shot two more entering the room. The smell of blood was thicker and human, tangling in the air with a scent of iron so heavy Alex could taste it. He searched the darkness for the source.
It was strongest near the door to the south. Alex put a hand on the doorknob.
“Ready?” he whispered to Trent.
“Maybe we should send Kaynan and Rafe,” Trent replied with a hint of worry in his voice.
Alex knew his friend was concerned about a repeat performance of last time, but Alex refused to back down. Both teams counted on him. He would be the leader they needed.
Alex shoved the door inward with his shoulder. The blood scent rushed out so strongly it clouded his senses. He blinked, focusing on the objects in the darkness.
Humans were strapped to the vertical tables like last time. Tubes filled with blood ran from the plugs in their arms and legs. The only thing missing was the scent of death.
One of the humans moaned.
Alex let out a sigh of relief. “We have live ones,” he said. “Get them down.”
Trent, Kaynan, and Rafe quickly responded. Kaynan cut the first set of straps with his wristband blade. The man would have hit the floor if Trent didn’t catch him.
“Darian, we’re going to need a medevac,” Alex said, glancing quickly at the other humans. They were all pale and lethargic, but strength appeared to be returning to them at the prospect of escaping from Drogan’s clutches.
“Our chopper’s ready,” Darian replied. He entered the room with three of his werewolves at his back.
“You’ve got the humans while we continue our sweep,” Alex said.
“Got it,” Darian answered.
Alex left the room with Trent close behind.
“What was that?” Siale asked into their headsets.
“It looked like the other place. Drogan’s collecting their blood,” Trent answered.
“For what?” Brock asked.
“I’m not sure,” Alex answered. “Run it by Mouse. See if he has any ideas.”
“Will do,” the human replied.
“Alex, we found a trapdoor in the basement,” Chet called into his earpiece. “It’s got some sort of contraption keeping it shut. We need Trent down here. Drogan’s scent is all over this place.”
Alex’s steps slowed. “You can smell him down there?” he asked.
“Yes,” Vance replied. “This is definitely where he went.”
Though the Extremist leader’s scent had lingered in the blood room, the faintness of it had given Alex doubt that there was even a chance of finding his half-brother in the mansion. A thrill of excitement ran up his spine at the werewolf’s words.
“The third floor is clear,” Cassie called. “We took down four guards, but no humans or psychotic lab experiments.”
“Way to keep your opinion out of it,” Jericho said from the porch.
“She has a point,” Tennison replied. “Drogan’s pretty psychotic.”
“Point taken,” Alex said, “But let’s stay focused. Kaynan and Rafe, do a final sweep of the second and third floors. Trent and I are heading to the basement.”
Terith’s voice came over the earpiece. “Alex, there’s a truck pulling up to the gates.”
Alex’s heart slowed. “If they’re coming to the mansion at this hour, it’s not by accident. Dray, question the occupants and Jericho do a sweep of the vehicle. Whatever you do, don’t let that truck up the drive. If that’s Drogan’s escape plan, he’s not going to make it.”
“Will do,” Dray answered.
Alex thought quickly through his plan. He wanted to get to the basement to investigate the trap door with Chet and Vance, but the truck was definitely a security hazard. “Cass, you and Tennison monitor the front and back of the house. If Drogan’s here and he’s called in his escape, it won’t be that easy.”
“Okay, Alex,” Cassie replied.
“We’re heading down,” he said. “Give us the word when the humans are clear and let us know what you find out about the truck.”
Chapter Twelve
Alex jogged back down the stairs with Trent close behind. The scent of blood in the air lessened when they reached the open basement door and continued down. They passed four rooms. Similar tables from the second floor sat in each room. The scents that lingered in the air spoke of werewolf and human along with anger, body odor, stress, and Drogan. The last one made Alex’s stomach turn.
“What are we going to find?” Trent asked quietly.
Alex wasn’t sure how to respond. He followed Chet and Vance’s scents to the last door. Vance pushed it open when they approached. Drogan’s scent flood
ed out along with a strange musk Alex didn’t recognize. It smelled of werewolf and human, but something else tainted it that made his muscles tense and his hands close into fists. He approached the strange door in the middle of the floor.
“Leave it to a psychopath to construct some sort of bomb on the door,” Chet said with heavy annoyance in his tone. He gestured at the door and crossed his arms as though done with the entire thing.
Trent crouched and studied the apparatus that sat on the door. Two glass vials filled with liquids and another filled with a white, salt-like substance were connected with slender tubes and an array of mechanisms Alex didn’t dare to touch.
“What do you think?” he asked Trent quietly.
Alex’s instincts screamed for him to smash the entire thing and tear through the door to get at the Extremist hiding beneath, but a lingering need for self-preservation warned him that if it was a bomb, smashing it would be the worst thing he could do. He knew Siale would be glad that his voice of reason still remained. She and Cassie feared he had lost it long ago.
“It’s on a trigger system,” Trent replied, his voice distant as he worked gingerly through the mess. “One wrong turn and this place will be leveled. Brock, can you put me through to Mouse?”
“Siale already left to get him,” Brock replied.
“So he’ll blow himself up just to kill us?” Alex asked with a hint of amazement. If anything, his brother had shown more drive to protect himself than Alex had ever had.
Trent shook his head and gestured at the floor. “This cement appears to be coated in a metal alloy that will no doubt protect whoever is underneath from harm. That’s why Brock’s heat sensors didn’t pick anything up.” He looked up at Alex. “Drogan could be the only one beneath here, or he could have a hundred guards. There’s no way to know for sure.”
Alex let out a slow breath. Opening the door could mean death for both teams he had brought to the mansion, but not opening it meant Drogan would escape yet again. They would never know what the Extremist was up to until it was too late. Jaze’s orders had been to capture Drogan; they had to go through the door.
“I’m here,” Mouse said over their ear monitors. “Describe what you see.”
Trent launched in a detailed description of the bomb and mechanisms. Alex paced the room in an effort to contain how badly he wanted to be down that hatch and chasing Drogan. The minute Trent and Mouse took to discuss the bomb felt like hours.
“How long will it take to disarm?” he asked when silence followed.
Trent studied the mechanisms for a moment longer. “Give Mouse and me seven minutes.”
Mouse agreed. “If we don’t have it by then, we won’t have it at all.”
Alex spoke into his earpiece, “Darian, how much time do you need to get the humans clear?”
“We’re working on the last two,” the leader of the Black Team replied. “Give me five minutes. I can send four men down to you.”
“Do it,” Alex answered.
If the bomb went off, they would all be dead anyway. With the uncertainty of what lay beneath the door, Alex didn’t want to risk being caught without the ability to defend his teams.
“Go ahead,” Alex told Trent.
“The truck driver is definitely under orders,” Jericho said. “He’s to drive around back and wait beneath a stand of aspens. The guy’s armed for bear.” He paused, then said, “Correction. He was armed for bear. Dray has relieved him of his weapons and Terith now has the truck’s keys. The driver is enjoying a close introduction to the pavement.”
“Good,” Alex replied. A thought occurred to him. “Jericho, take the driver and Terith with you and drive the truck to the aspens. If something goes wrong here, Drogan might still try to escape. Dray—”
“I’ll be in the back,” the werewolf replied. “The element of surprise could still be on our side.”
“Gently,” Mouse said to Trent.
Alex’s attention darted back to the small werewolf.
Trent’s hands shook as he detached one of the glass vials of liquid from the bomb. He held it up slowly and handed the vial to Alex.
“Don’t drop that,” the werewolf said.
Alex stared at the container in his hands. He heard the members of the Black Team come into the room, and felt as much as saw Kaynan and Rafe enter as well. All werewolves waited silently for Trent to do his job.
Alex’s hands felt sweaty. He wiped one hand and then the other on his pants. Just holding the vial in one hand felt like flirting with certain death. He doubted his promise to his mother that he would be careful covered holding a glass container of explosive liquid. The sarcastic side of him said that he should get someone to take a picture just to show her how very bad he was at keeping his promises.
“Got it,” Trent said. The small werewolf held up a vial of colorless liquid.
He noticed Alex’s worried expression concerning the vial in his hands.
“It’s okay,” Trent told him. “You’re holding diesel fuel. This is the stuff you have to be careful with. Drogan’s concentration of Nitromethane and ammonium nitrate could level this place in a matter of seconds.” He set the vial gently to one side. “As long as they don’t mix, we’re fine.”
Alex eyed the container he held. “Are you sure?”
“You can smell it, right?” Trent asked.
Alex focused on the vial. Now that he was concentrating on identifying the liquid instead of being afraid of losing his hand or worse, he recognized the heavy, oily sulfur scent that was much thicker than gasoline. Still careful not to disturb the diesel fuel overly much, he set it gently against the wall.
“So we can open it?” Alex asked.
“You can,” Trent replied. At Alex’s questioning look, the werewolf explained, “I’ve got the bomb off, but the bolts are another matter. Unless you know where some bolt cutters are…”
Alex let the Demon through. The beast had been raging beneath his skin with the promise of Drogan feet below them. It took two seconds to channel that strength and tear the trap door from the floor. Chunks of cement and metal ripped free with it.
Alex tossed the door to the side. He willed the Demon to back off, knowing he needed his mind clear to face whatever they met below the basement. The blue faded from his thoughts and he felt like himself again.
A glance to the right showed the Black Team staring at him. Vance and Chet looked at each other. Alex took a calming breath.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“I don’t know if you should—”
Alex jumped into the hole, cutting off any protest Trent had. He hit the ground and drew his gun. The darkness was so complete even his werewolf eyesight had a hard time cutting through.
“Are you still alive?” Trent called down.
Alex glanced up at the gray square above his head. A ladder reached it from the wall.
“I’m alive,” Alex answered. “Come on down.”
Trent reached for the ladder. Vance and Chet jumped down the way Alex had. Both Alphas straightened and looked around. Three members of the Black Team followed.
“Ever heard of lighting?” Chet grumbled.
“How about cleaning the floor?” Vance replied. “This place stinks and I don’t know what I’m stepping in.”
A sound cut through the darkness. Everyone froze.
“Well done, Alex.”
Alex bared his teeth at his brother’s hate-filled voice.
“I wasn’t sure if you would be able to open the door,” the Extremist continued from the far end of the room.
Alex peered in the direction of his brother’s voice, but he couldn’t pierce the darkness. The impression he got was that they were in a far bigger room than he had first thought. Drogan’s voice echoed slightly.
“In fact, I half-hoped you would blow yourself to pieces and end my headache, but I’m apparently not that lucky.”
“Give up, Drogan,” Alex growled. He took a step forward to place himself between the Ex
tremist and his team.
“I’m far from giving up.”
Alex squinted when Drogan struck a flare. The Extremist held up the red light. It sputtered, and twelve other reflective eyes were revealed.
“What are those?” Chet demanded with true fear in his voice.
Alex took in the creatures’ wolfish heads, clawed hands, and bulky muscles. His heart slowed.
“Demons,” he and Trent said at the same time.
He looked up at his friend who was halfway down the ladder.
Trent’s face was pale and eyes wide. “We’re in trouble.”
The flare died and the sound of claws on cement filled the air.
“Get out of here!” Alex yelled.
“You can’t save them,” Drogan called. “You can’t save any of them, Alex. You’ll watch them bleed and die.”
“Darian get everyone to the choppers. Leave, now!” Alex shouted.
He shoved the members of the Black Team toward the ladder. Chet jumped and caught the edge of the trapdoor just as Trent disappeared through.
“Come on!” the Alpha yelled.
Vance threw one of the members of the Black Team up and he grabbed Chet’s hand. The werewolf pulled him through. The other two scrambled for the ladder.
Alex and Vance turned to face the onslaught. Alex let go of his self-control. The Demon surged through him with fury and blue light. Alex let out a growl of rage and charged the first Demon with the strength of a bull.
Instead of being thrown back the way a werewolf would, the Demon matched him strength for strength. Another barreled up behind the first. Her momentum shoved Alex back. His claws scraped along the concrete as he fought to keep them from Vance and the others.
The Demons were fast. Alex caught claws and returned blows, but every time he shoved one free, another was there to take its place. They shoved him back to the ladder just as the last member of the Black Team was being pulled through the hole.
