by A. D. Ryan
Nick turned back to me with a smile. “See? Between the pack and a powerful Shaman working together, they couldn’t be in better company.”
Mulling this over, I finally conceded. “Okay. You’re right. They’ll be safe here until we return.”
“In addition to the cloaking spells, I will cast a protection spell over them. They’re really quite effective at warding off both physical and magical attacks. I have an entire arsenal of spells ready to use—even if they are against our ways.”
From what I’d heard of the way they lived, I knew he was talking about using offensive magic, and I was grateful that he would offer to do this for us. Before I could thank him, he cleared his throat.
“Marcus has always been good to me. While he’s made some deals with us in the past that might compromise his own code, I will always be indebted to him for saving my life.”
Curiosity nipped at my heels, but I knew it to be disrespectful to pry. Instead I offered him a look of sympathy, only to have him brush it off with a smile.
“It was a long time ago. I was barely a teen coming into my powers. My parents were two of the most sought after Shamans in our circle, their spells more powerful and reliable than anyone else. Gianna wanted to use them to help her cloak her lairs all over the world. My parents weren’t into using their gifts to help the soulless, so they refused her, regardless of her offering up her army to always be at our beck and call.
“She killed them in a fit of rage, and was going to kill me when Marcus interrupted.” He indicated to the scar running down the left side of his face. “That was the day I got this.”
Awkwardness hung in the air before he finally cleared his throat. “We should probably head out. We’ve got our work cut out for us if we’re going to gather enough information to prove your theory and find a solution.”
The Pack stood aside while Alistair cast a spell of protection over my parents. Once the spell was in place, I could see the faint aura of energy around them, and I could feel it pulsing whenever we were close.
Understandably, my mother was a little more nervous about all of this, but she was really trying to be okay with it, knowing we wouldn’t let anything happen to them. But I could sense her anxiety, so I asked Alistair if there was anything he could do, and he agreed to cast a small calming spell that he said was equivalent to taking a Valium. She wasn’t aware he was doing it, which I was certain was wrong, but with her calm and not worrying, I was better able to focus on the mission as we led them through the house and down into the panic room.
Nick and I followed Vince and Layla as they led my parents through the main level of the house. Once we reached the kitchen, I watched on in confusion as Layla opened the walk-in pantry and reached inside. I took a step to the left and observed her press her hand to the white wall. A loud beep echoed in my ears, and then the wall opened inward, shelves still attached.
Smiling, she stepped out of the way so Vince could lead us down the stairs. “It was important the entrance wasn’t predictable. So often, you see them in bedrooms or offices, and we just couldn’t take the risk.”
Vince and Layla’s panic room wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen in movies. Instead of steel-enforced walls, I was admiring what looked like a studio apartment. I could smell the steel behind the drywall, but this was definitely more comfortable than I’d envisioned since finding out about it.
In the far corner was a king-sized bed covered in a thick red comforter. On the other side of the room, a door that I could see led to a washroom. To my right, I saw a kitchenette that I assumed was fully stocked with all sorts of non-perishable items, and to my left, a decent sized-living room area.
“Please make yourselves at home,” Layla said as my parents looked around. Colby and Zach joined us then, looking around from next to me. “We’ll secure the room before we leave. It’s completely soundproof, and with Alistair’s cloak, you’ll be safe.”
Even though we’d taken every precaution, I couldn’t help but think the worst—it would be unnatural if I didn’t after everything that had happened to me. I pulled Zach and Colby aside. “If something should happen, though, you’re both prepared to fight? You’re in control?”
Colby smiled, and for the first time in the last few days, I saw the fire in her eyes that had been extinguished the day her parents died. Her strength had returned, even if only minutely. “I’ll protect them with my life. I know what it’s like to lose my parents, and I won’t let you experience that.”
Nick gripped my arm lightly and tugged me back toward the stairs. “Come on. We have to go if we’re going to get this done before sundown.”
I hugged my parents one last time and told them I loved them before the four of us headed up the stairs. After Layla secured the entrance, I stepped into the pantry and looked around, pressing my hand to the spot that Layla had earlier. Nothing happened.
“It’s wired to our hands only,” Vince informed me, making me feel better. “It won’t open for anyone else.”
Alistair joined us in the kitchen and cast the cloaking spell like he promised. Like the barrier spell, I could feel the energy pulsing in the air, assuaging my fears just enough that I felt comfortable leaving.
Outside, we all headed for the vehicles and were preparing to get in them when Alistair stopped us. When we looked at him, he had a huge grin on his face. “Whether on foot or by car, you’ll never make it to the base of the mountain in time. I’ve got a way to transport us all there within a few minutes…if you’re interested. All I need is for one—or several—of you to visualize the area while I cast.”
Nick closed the door to his truck and led the rest of us toward Alistair. He stood in the middle of the driveway, the gently falling snow landing in his dark hair and on his shoulders. He looked to each of us intensely before his gaze settled on me. “You. You’re the one I need. Your memories are strongest.”
Nervous, I stepped forward. Alistair extended a hand, and I placed mine in it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, urging me to do the same. “I need you to clear your mind of everything,” he said in a soothing voice that rolled over me like a rush of warm water. Energy flowed through him, passing through his hand and into mine. It had a strange calming effect over me, and I found it easy to clear my mind.
“Focus on your breathing,” he commanded. “Think back to the compound—even if it’s the area just outside. Take me there.”
Even though I’d done everything I could to forget the compound and everything about my time there, I found myself unable to keep the memories from breaking through the dam with a rush. My pulse started to race until it was all I could hear. I could feel my panic levels rising, and my hand twitched in an attempt to pull away when Alistair tightened his grip infinitesimally.
“Breathe, Brooke.” I did as he instructed. “It’s just a memory. Let me see it.”
I opened my mind again, breathing deeply and trying to keep the breaths even. I walked back through the woods, passing trees that were familiar, even if they looked like every other tree in the area. Soon enough, I came to the clearing, and about twenty feet ahead of me was the hidden door to the compound. There was a chill in the air as I stared at the door, still ajar like the last time I’d seen it.
The wind whipped around me, biting at the skin on my face. I could feel my subconscious trying to bury the memory again, but I suspected I had to hold on for Alistair’s cast to be effective.
When his hand fell away from mine, severing our connection, my eyes snapped open as the electric current beneath my skin dulled, then disappeared. Before I could take a look around, my stomach lurched and my head spun, similar to how it would feel on a fast-spinning carnival ride.
My knees wobbled, and I could feel myself slowly sinking to the ground to regain my balance. A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me toward a body. Based on the lack of heat, I knew it wasn’t Nick. Still dazed, I turned to see Alistair had me. His brow was creased and his smile was apologetic.
“The trip can be quite disorientating. Motion sickness isn’t uncommon, especially for the conduit.”
He seemed to be speaking fluidly, but my brain had trouble registering the words correctly for a moment or two as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, soon settling on the slightly open door in the side of the mountain.
“We’re here,” I said, my voice hoarse. “H-how?”
Alistair’s smile widened. “Magic.”
Attempting a laugh, I pulled away from Alistair, feeling a little steadier on my feet. I noticed the Pack around us, all shaking the vertigo from their own heads. Nick approached me first, his skin surprisingly pale—almost a little green.
“You good?” he inquired, swallowing thickly.
I nodded. “”Yeah. Fine.” I noticed his eyes travel down to my stomach, and I placed a shaking hand over it. “We’re both fine.”
Nick breathed a sigh of relief before turning toward the door. His nostrils flared and his brows pulled together. “They’ve been here recently,” he announced, forcing us all to attention.
Jackson came up on my right, inhaling deeply. “Far as I can tell, there’s no one here now.”
“Then we move forward,” I ordered. “Carefully. This place is huge. There could still be some of them in there. We need to find the files on their research and get the hell out. We only need to know what we’re up against and some way to fight it.”
We all moved forward, but when we were about seven feet away from the door, I felt an intense pulse. It was brief, ebbing almost as quickly as it had swelled, and it knocked me back a step.
“Huh,” Alistair said from right behind me.
Nick and Jackson turned around simultaneously. “What is it?” Jackson demanded.
“You don’t feel that?” I asked, the hair on my arms standing on end as I stepped forward again.
“It’s a barrier spell,” Alistair announced. “Though, it’s old…weak.”
“And Brooke can feel it?” Roxanne asked. “How?”
“She was the conduit I used to get us here,” our shaman friend explained. “She’s still sensitive to the magic we use.”
I watched as Alistair stepped forward, his eyes following some kind of invisible arc in the sky. He remained silent, reading the air as I suspected it hummed even louder around him than it had around me.
“The cast is old, barely even functional anymore,” he informed us. Then he paused, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “The spell is familiar, though.”
“Familiar? Like, compared to the one you used back at the house?” Vince spoke up.
“Yes and no,” Alistair replied, turning toward us all again. “Every Shaman has a…signature, if you will. Each cast follows a specific script in order to be successful. However, once the spell has been activated, the energy carries a part of the Shaman who cast it.” His eyes closed, and he inhaled deeply as though he was reading the energy around him.
“You know who it is,” I deduced. “Don’t you?”
“While I can’t be certain, I can feel the strength and experience…” He inhaled deeply, almost like he was reveling in the feeling around him. “It’s intoxicating.”
“That’s all well and good,” Roxanne said, pulling Alistair from his blissful state. “But do you know which of you was working for a coven of blood-sucking freaks?”
Alistair’s eyes snapped open, glazed, and recognition sparked in them. “Melinda?”
“Who?” I questioned.
Alistair appeared to be in shock. “She’s our equivalent to a Pack Alpha. She ensures all rules are being followed and hands out sentences to those who disobey.”
“So, is it common practice for your kind to work with vampires?” Nick asked. Something told me he already knew the answer to that, based on the annoyed look on his face.
This sobered Alistair. “Not at all. We’ve only ever shown our allegiance to the Pack,” he replied.
“Then why would she have thrown in with the vampires?” Jackson demanded, advancing on Alistair menacingly. “Is this some kind of trap? Is that why you lured us here the way you did?”
I sensed Jackson’s anxiety rise above his anger. He wasn’t just angry; he was afraid that he was right and this might actually be a trap.
A fresh wave of fear washed over me as Alistair stammered and backed away from Jackson. “What?” N-no! Of course not. I had no idea she was in league with them! Gianna must have offered her something she couldn’t refuse.”
“Or had something that belonged to her,” I interjected, suspecting that was probably more likely the case.
“The spell is old, barely even stable,” Alistair continued to scramble. “It’s months old…close to a year, maybe?” The expression on his face transformed from fear to revelation.
“What is it?” I asked.
“About ten months ago, Melinda and her children had gone out on a spiritual quest. The girls had just come of age, sixteen being the year that their powers come to fruition. They were gone much longer than any other quest, but they eventually returned, so we didn’t think anything of it.”
“All of them? They all returned?” Nick double-checked, and Alistair nodded. “And they seemed normal?”
“Actually, no. The girls seemed out of sorts, and Melinda refused to talk about the quest. It lasted for a few days, but eventually they began to act as though nothing had happened. It was strange, but we’d all just thought maybe they got into a fight out there…it wouldn’t have been the first time.”
“So you think Gianna threatened them?” I pressed.
“Possibly, yeah.”
I turned to Nick. “It would explain why someone so loyal to the Pack might turn on them and help the enemy.” He nodded in response. “Well, let’s dig a little deeper. Maybe we can find something inside to corroborate your theory.”
We moved as a unit, carefully navigating the inner halls of my former prison. Even though I’d been back once since my initial escape, the anxiety I felt grabbing at me was still ever-present. I was able to tune it out just enough to focus on the task at hand.
Staying in groups of two, we split up. Nick and I went into the room that looked like a lab. Flashes from my time in here, being poked with needles, shocked with tasers, and deafened with high-frequency sounds, distracted me. My chest tightened with panic, and I had to take a minute to remind myself that I was safe. I wasn’t strapped down to the overturned metal slab. I wasn’t collared and locked in a silver-laced prison cell. I was free, and I was here on reconnaissance. I was here with my pack, searching for proof of Gianna’s plans to create hybrids.
“Brooke?” Nick spoke up, his concern audible. “You alright?”
Closing my eyes, I nodded. “Yeah. Just give me a sec.” After several deep breaths, I opened my eyes and started rifling through the files on the floor. I went through the first few, collecting the ones that looked like they had some decent information and tossing the others aside.
I was just about to move on to the fallen filing cabinet when there was a flicker of light a few feet away followed by the brief sound of static and an iron door slamming shut.
I walked toward the source of the light to find Nick leaning on a desk, watching something on a computer monitor. There was a clear CD case on the desk with “SUBJECT THIRTY-SEVEN: BARRY” written on it and a timestamp for just over three months ago.
The name sounded familiar, and soon I remembered Cordelia had mentioned him shortly after my abduction. She’d said he’d been killed when he refused to fight her.
The image on the monitor was black and white, but clear. There was a man with a large build banging on the two-way mirror and screaming for them to let him out. I imagined Bobby laughing behind the glass, and I could feel my anger percolating until I heard the door open and close on the computer again.
Another body appeared from the lower right corner of the monitor, and I soon recognized Cordelia as she slowly wandered into the room. Her shoulders were slumped, hair hang
ing loose around her face and shoulders. Anxiety gripped my chest tightly as I anticipated Barry attacking her. I knew she survived their confrontation, but she’d never given me the details of that day.
Barry whipped around to face her. The look in his eyes was murderous, and I held my breath, waiting for the first strike. It surprised me when it came from Cordelia.
“What the hell?” Nick muttered under his breath.
We watched as Cordelia thrust a flat palm into Barry’s chest, sending him flying back into the wall and cracking it slightly from the force. Barry pushed himself to his feet, holding a hand over his chest as he struggled to breathe. Cordelia cocked her head to the right, then to the left, assessing him as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Whenever you’re ready,” a voice called out over an intercom in the recording. It didn’t take long for me to connect it to Bobby.
Cordelia looked over her shoulder, and the grin that slowly spread across her face was chilling as she stared directly into the camera. Even with the black and white picture, I noticed Cordelia’s eyes darken, light shadows slowly spreading to just over her cheekbones, almost vein-like in appearance.
I recognized the snapping of bone and could see the transformation happening beneath the loose clothing she wore. Something that took me by surprise was the lack of discomfort as her body shifted and grew, but that shock was soon amplified when I watched her body grow to twice its size as the wolf emerged, still standing on two feet.
She was like something out of a horror movie, with her hind legs thick, hocks bent backwards, and moving fluidly toward her prey as he cowered and stared in wide-eyed disbelief. Saliva dripped from her canines as she dipped her head to Barry’s level, and the muscles in her back tensed as she lifted a large muscular arm and then slashed it down across his body, tearing him in two.
She looked nothing like the wolf she’d turned into the day we escaped. It was like staring at two completely different creatures.
Inhaling sharply, I backed up, bumping into an off-balance filing cabinet and knocking a drawer loose. Files and papers fluttered to the ground, and I glanced down at them, unable to look at the computer monitor any longer. Nick fled the room, saying something about going to find the others.
