“Damn right I am.”
She didn’t plan on letting him out of her sight again. Not knowing what had happened to him back at the reservation had felt like someone had ripped her soul in two.
Blake addressed the rest of the group. “And everyone else knows what they need to be doing?”
Heads were nodded, nervous smiles exchanged.
“We need to go to the subway station three blocks from here. Everyone, give us time to get there and then swing into action. Let’s get our people back and teach these sons of bitches what they’re dealing with.”
A chorus of ‘good lucks’ rang out.
Blake took Autumn’s hand and together they left the relative safety of the alley, and ran down the street.
Chapter Twenty-two
CHOGAN PLANNED ON keeping the reporters busy, giving the others time to shift and make it up to the roof. Then the next part of the job would be down to them. Enyeto hung back, lurking around the corner until the time came for them to make their move.
He approached a redhead he recognized from the local news. She was young and beautiful, clad head to toe in a cream-colored Armani suit. She lifted a manicured hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. Perhaps she wasn’t used to being up this early? There was a reason he wanted her to notice him, and it wasn’t purely so the others could enter the facility uninterrupted. If this whole thing went to plan, he intended to make sure things changed around here, and he would need her to make that happen.
With his hands shoved in his jean pockets, he sauntered up to her. “You’re up early. So what’s the latest?”
She turned, a frown marring her features, but then she caught sight of him, her eyes traveling up his body to rest on his face, and a smile tugged at her perfectly made-up lips.
“The news never sleeps.” Her eyes flicked over his body again. “I assume you’re not another reporter?”
He circled her. “No, I’m not another reporter, though I think I could have something which would make an interesting story for you.”
“And what would that be?”
“Something related to the kidnapping you’re all here to get the dish on.”
Instantly her stance changed, her back straightening, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And what would you know about it?”
“A fair amount.” He paused. “Blake Wolfcollar is my cousin.”
“Is this some kind of play for money? ‘Cause you’re talking to the wrong person. My producer is right over there.” She nodded toward one of the news vans, where a man in his forties smoked a cigarette and nursed a take-out coffee.
“I’m not after money. I only want people to know the truth.”
She cocked one eyebrow. “And you think you have the truth?”
“Hell yeah. And after today, none of you will ever look at life the same way again.”
Now her expression changed to one of skepticism. Already, he could tell she was wondering if he was some kind of nut. The next hour or so would put an end to that.
Huge shadows glanced off the ground and the woman frowned and looked up. Chogan followed suit, lifting his face to the sky, though he already knew what he would see.
Two birds, giant eagles, rode eddies high above their heads, their sheer size only becoming apparent the closer they got. Mutters of astonishment turned to disbelief as the birds landed on the edge of the roof of the building, seeming to peer down at the gathering crowd. Early morning commuters joined the team of reporters in sky-gazing and people began to point and exclaim out loud.
“Holy cow!”
“Have you seen the size of them?”
“What are eagles doing in the middle of the city?”
“They can’t be real!”
The reporter Chogan had been speaking to seemed to have forgotten he was there. The guy she’d pointed out to be her producer yelled, “Annabel, get your sweet ass over here! We need this on camera!” She left Chogan’s side at a run, toward another man with a huge video camera. A third man holding a boom microphone ran behind him.
One of the birds let out an earsplitting screech and left the rooftop, plummeting through the air as it dived for the gathering crowd, huge talons spread. Chogan knew there was no way she intended on hurting anyone, but she certainly caught their attention. People screamed and lifted their arms to shelter their heads and faces. The powerful wings created a wind as she flapped to slow her downward descent and rise back into the sky.
From a distance came the now familiar thrum of helicopter blades.
Is it the same one that chased us before? Chogan wondered.
The chopper came into view over the building. It tried to land, veering and circling in the sky as if in some kind of mating dance with the two birds. Each time it neared the rooftop, one of the birds screeched and dived at the machine. If there was a collision, the two shifters would be killed, without doubt, but they would take the helicopter down with them.
Noticing the commotion, the security guards for the building came out, joining the crowd forming on the street. They’d not bothered to shut the darkened glass doors behind them.
Now was their chance. Chogan glanced over to where Enyeto was waiting and discreetly lifted his chin, giving him the signal.
With everyone’s attention focused on the sky, they slipped inside the building.
BLAKE AND AUTUMN ran down the steps into the subway.
Blake paused and then tugged on her hand, leading her away from the trickle of commuters. “Come on, this way.”
They left the main passageway and headed into a service tunnel. A metal gate barred the way, a thick chain and padlock keeping people out. Blake took the chain and lock in each hand and gave a huge wrench, bending the metal, forcing the lock to pop. He glanced to either side, checking the coast was clear, and then unhooked the chain and opened the gate. He pressed Autumn forward through the gap, then turned and pulled the gate shut again, looping the chain back through. The result wasn’t perfect, but hopefully no one would notice the broken chain.
Any light from the train tunnel vanished as they went deeper. Blake’s eyesight was better than a normal human’s and his wolf’s was excellent in the dark—sending him images to allow him to find his way. But Autumn had normal eyesight, and within a minute of entering this new tunnel, she started to stumble. He knew she couldn’t see anything, despite the fact she hadn’t complained, just clutched tighter to his hand.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We won’t be in the dark too long. We’ll reach the facility soon.”
“And then the real danger starts,” she said, her voice coming out of the darkness. “I know the dark won’t hurt me.”
“I won’t let anything else hurt you either.”
She paused and said, “I just realized I have no idea who these people are we’re about to try to rescue. Other than there are three of them and they’re shifters, like you.”
Blake got the impression she was using their conversation to ward away the imaginings which so often lay in the dark.
“One is a woman from the reservation,” he told her. “She’s from a different town, so I don’t know her personally. The second is a man, white, like you. He has a family who must be missing him—a wife and two kids.” He took a breath, hating to have to describe the third captive, understanding how coldhearted it must make him appear, to have left a boy in such a horrific situation. Even so, he continued. “The third is a teenage boy called Toby. He can’t be much more than fifteen.”
The pressure on his hand changed as Autumn slowed. “A teenage boy? His surname isn’t West, by any chance?”
Blake frowned in the dark. “Yes, that does ring a bell.”
“Now I understand why Mia is so involved. Toby West was her latest case.”
“Damn.”
Autumn’s roommate had certainly gotten herself involved with the wrong people.
The tunnel twisted and turned, several junctions giving him options, which he took with no hesitation. Eventually, he came
to stop. A solid steel door blocked their way. A small keypad, illuminated by a pale blue light behind the keys, offered them their first light for a while.
“We’d better hope this works.”
He tried to ignore the nerves in his stomach as he keyed in the code. The door beeped, the blue light turning green, and the door clicked open.
“Thank God,” breathed Autumn.
Blake swung open the big, heavy door.
Ahead lay another tunnel, square in shape and lined with what appeared to be aluminum. He took up Autumn’s hand once again and they ran at a steady jog down the sheer metal box. Overhead, florescent lights flicked on with their movement, only to extinguish again as they passed.
He wasn’t sure what they’d find when they reached containment level three—whether the shifters would be protected by men with guns or if they’d even be there at all. But he knew Dumas’ level of cockiness was high enough to never allow him to think someone would take him on—especially not a solitary man and a young scientist. In fact, that was probably the last thing Dumas would think he’d do. He imagined the men after them would expect them to try to put as much distance as possible between them and the facility.
They reached another slab of steel with another keypad. He plugged in the code and again the door opened. He’d been right, assuming Dumas to be too arrogant to consider Blake a threat. Either that or, as Blake had suspected before, the codes had deliberately been left unchanged, anticipating their return. In Dumas’ mind, Blake was just a regular man. He had no idea about the common link Blake shared with the other shifters. Blake wondered what connection the general had made between him and Autumn. What did Dumas think his reason was for taking Autumn away? Blake didn’t know how much information Haverly had given up, but he doubted his friend would have betrayed them. The general probably thought Blake wanted Autumn’s power for himself.
This door opened into the back of containment level three, where the shifters were being held. A corridor led down into the room where the guards would be.
Using the hand that wasn’t locked around Autumn’s fingers, he reached back and removed his gun from where he’d hidden it in the waistband of his jeans. Before reaching the city, he’d gone back to where he’d stashed his bag of supplies a couple of days earlier and rearmed himself.
He wasn’t expecting to find the shifters alone, and he wasn’t wrong.
Blake peered around the corner. Two bored-looking guards sat on watch. He recognized neither of them. Had Dumas replaced some of his team after he’d taken off with Autumn? Perhaps the General figured he didn’t know who to trust anymore and got fresh blood in, not wanting to leave anyone in charge who might betray him.
One guard chewed gum and idly flicked through his phone. The other sat with his feet resting on the control panel, his head back, his hands folded over his portly stomach. If Dumas caught them like that, he’d fire them in an instant.
He put out a hand to motion to Autumn to keep still. Her blue eyes locked with his, serious and alert, but not frightened. This wasn’t some silly little girl he had with him now. She was a woman who’d fought to the top of her career and who, before the last couple of days, had known her place in the world. Now, her whole life had been flipped upside down, but she was still holding it together. He admired her for that.
Each of the doors to the glass cells holding the shifters were locked from the outside. When they released the shifters, they’d be able to make a run for it, but he worried about them being shot on the way out.
He wondered how the others were doing. They could set these shifters free, but they still needed to find Autumn’s roommate. He also wanted to find out what had happened to Haverly and take out Dumas. The man wouldn’t let them rest if he was left alive.
The one guard was so engrossed in his phone he didn’t even notice Blake coming. Blake pressed the muzzle of his gun against the head of the man who appeared to be taking a nap. At the cold of the barrel, the man’s eyes shot open.
“Don’t move a muscle,” Blake warned.
The other guard dropped his phone and scrabbled for his gun, but Blake clicked the barrel forward, the sound loud in the otherwise silent place. The man gave a whimper of fear. “That applies to both of you.”
The two men froze and exchanged a glance.
“Put your hands up where I can see them,” said Blake.
He couldn’t let himself be distracted by the three people held captive. First, he needed to deal with these two and make sure they didn’t call for help. If they were anywhere else in the building, he’d be worrying about security cameras picking up on him holding these men at gunpoint, but the only cameras down here led to Dumas’ office. With the commotion the others were hopefully causing in other parts of the building, he doubted he’d find Dumas sitting at his desk.
He motioned with the gun. “Get up and come over here.”
The men scrabbled to their feet.
“Slowly,” he said. Stepping forward, he quickly pulled both men’s weapons from their holsters. He tucked one into the waistband of his jeans and kept hold of the other one. He figured Autumn would appreciate the weapon.
With both men in front of him, he called out, “Autumn, the boy is in the room farthest from you. Go and unlock it for me.”
He allowed his gaze to move briefly to scan the two-inch-thick glass separating the room from the cells. He knew the shifters wouldn’t be able to see through the one-way glass—their side was mirrored—but it was possible the stronger of the shifters, perhaps the man or woman, would be able to use their guides to see what was happening on the other side.
He was right. Though the boy lay curled up on his side, either asleep or unconscious, the man and woman sat up, alert, staring toward their mirrored side of the glass. They knew something was going on, though there wouldn’t be any way for them to know he was here for them. As far as they were concerned, he was one of the guys on the bad team, and he needed to be prepared for the possibility that they would treat him like such.
From where he watched, the door at the back of the boy’s cell swung open. Toby lifted his head. To one side of his body was a tray with an empty bowl and a plastic cup. At least Dumas had been feeding them. A bucket in the corner had served as a bathroom. From the way Autumn ducked her head back, her hand raised to her mouth, he guessed it hadn’t been cleared in a while.
Through the microphone on the control panel, he could hear Autumn speak, “Hey, Toby, isn’t it?”
The boy came to, caught sight of Autumn, and quickly sat up, scrabbling to the back of the cell.
She put her hand out, as though to a nervous animal. “It’s okay. My name is Autumn. I’m here to help you, to get you out of here.”
Toby’s eyes darted around the small room, as though expecting to see some answer to what was occurring or figure out if this was a trick or not. His eyes seemed too big in his head, cheeks hollowed, arms thin. Whatever they’d been feeding him over the last couple of weeks, it either hadn’t been enough, or he hadn’t been keeping it down. Blake figured if Dumas had continued with his experiment, the resulting weight loss had probably been a mixture of both.
“You want to get out of here, right?” Autumn continued, one hand still held out. She crouched to his level. “My friend, Mia, runs a charity to find missing people, and your mom and dad contacted her. We’re here to take you home.”
Blake hoped to God that what she was telling him would come to fruition.
The boy looked around again. Apparently deciding he had no other options, he reached out and took Autumn’s hand. Gently, she led him from his place of captivity.
“What the hell are you doing?” the guard with the belly yelled. “These people are dangerous. Hell, they’re not even people!”
Blake cracked him on the side of the head with the muzzle of his gun. “Shut it, you.”
Toby cowered at the raised voices.
The man in the chamber beside him started to hammer on his door. “Hey!
Don’t forget me! Get me out of here.”
“It’s all right,” Autumn called out. “We’re coming. Hang in there.”
“Move, you two,” said Blake, motioning with the gun toward the cell the boy had just vacated. “Get in there.”
The guard touched the now bloodied spot on his forehead, wincing in pain, as he staggered toward the empty cell. “Oh, man, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Just be thankful I’ve not shot you already.”
He pushed the door shut on the two men and drove the lock home. Then he handed Autumn the spare gun. “Here, I figured you might want this.”
“I’ve never shot anyone before.”
“There’s always a first time for everything.”
She gave him a grim smile.
Banging from within the other two holding cells drew their attention. The captives’ voices came, faint, but filled with desperation.
“I’ll get this one,” said Autumn, stepping forward and drawing back the huge iron bar from the middle cell. The door swung open and the woman with long dark hair almost fell out.
“Oh, thank God,” she cried, stumbling into Autumn’s arms. Tears of relief flowed down her dirt-streaked face, leaving tracks in their wake. “I thought I’d never make it out of that room.”
“We’re not out yet,” said Blake. He opened the other room and the man also staggered out, clearly weak from lack of food and everything else that had been done to them. Burn marks marred the skin on each of their arms, healing crusts on abrasions from the cuffs they’d been kept in upon their arrival.
Blake hustled them back the way they’d come to where the door separated them from the metal tunnel.
“You need to go that way. There’s a door at the end. The code is one-four-eight-six-one-nine. Do you think you can remember that?”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” the woman cried, clutching Toby’s hand.
He shook his head. “I can’t. Other people are being held here who I need to find. Autumn, you can go with them if you want.”
Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One Page 18
