A large truck rumbled down the street and came to a jerky stop in front of us. Two Trackers pulled open the doors to the cargo hold and threw down a ramp. It hit the pavement with a clang that seemed to reverberate in my chest.
The crowd shifted as people were herded aboard. I spotted Eve’s red hair a second before she disappeared inside.
Serena was shoved forward, then Kyle, then me.
I tried to stop, to turn and search the milling Trackers for Jason, but another push sent me stumbling up the ramp. As I reached the top, I heard one of the men say a candle had started the blaze.
I slipped on a small pool of blood and fell to my knees just over the threshold. With my hands bound, there was no way for me to break my fall. I bit back a pained gasp. Werewolves didn’t cry over scraped knees, and if the Trackers realized I was a reg, I’d lose my only chance to find out where Kyle and Serena were being taken.
I shimmied away from the edge of the truck and found a space along the wall. There were no benches or seats: it was a truck built for freight, not people.
I looked up.
Jason.
He was trying to push past a Tracker who looked capable of breaking him in two. He was shouting, but the scene was too chaotic and he was too far away for me to catch a single sentence.
His face and clothes were streaked with ash and he looked crazed—as crazed as any wolf with bloodlust—but he was okay. He wasn’t in cuffs and the Trackers hadn’t beaten him to a pulp. He was all right. He would be all right.
His gaze locked on mine. Fierce. Desperate. Determined.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, even though he wouldn’t have believed the words even if he could have heard them. “I promise, it’ll be okay.”
Jason’s eyes were the last thing I saw before the doors slammed shut.
7
WE HUDDLED IN THE DARK FOR WHAT FELT LIKE HOURS. The combined scent of sweat, fear, and smoke was nauseating. Some people cried and others prayed. Most were too scared to make a sound.
A few wolves managed to get cell phones and iPods out of one another’s pockets. No one could get a signal, but they used the devices as flashlights. The dim electronic glows pierced the dark and somehow made things slightly more bearable.
Very slightly.
“We’re going to die.” The voice was young and male and it cracked around the edges.
“We are, aren’t we?” No one answered and the silence seemed to push him over some invisible line. “Aren’t we?”
He climbed shakily to his feet and began to pace. Back and forth. In and out of thin bars of light.
His steps carried him a little too close, and I could feel Kyle and Serena tense on either side of me.
There wasn’t enough light to see clearly, but I could hear the cracking and popping of bones and muscle as fear frayed the boy’s control. The cuffs were heavy, but I wasn’t sure if they would hold during a shift.
My heart tried to break free of my rib cage as I strained against my cuffs to reach Kyle’s hand.
Another figure stood. It took me a moment to recognize Eve in the semidark. “Bastian . . .”
The boy ignored her.
Swaying with the motion of the truck, she moved forward and blocked his path. “Bastian, listen to me.” Her voice was firm. Commanding. “We are not going to die.”
He started to object and she cut him off. “Listen to me: If they wanted us dead, they’d have sealed off the exits when the fire started or shot us on the street. They won’t kill anyone unless we give them a reason. Shift and you give them a reason.”
I held my breath. After a small eternity, the boy shuffled over to the wall and slid to the ground.
Next to me, Serena exhaled in a soft rush.
“We’ll be okay.” Eve turned in a slow circle as she addressed the wolves. “Curtis will think of something. The pack will come after us. We just have to stay calm until then.”
Only exhaustion and fear kept me from laughing.
No one was coming after us. Least of all my father.
I stared at Eve and wondered, again, who she was and how she was connected to Hank.
The truck hit a patch of rough road and Serena choked back a sob. Her eyes glinted and I realized she was crying. The only other time I’d seen Serena cry had been the night a group of Trackers had gone after her and her brother.
“I’m so sorry.” The whispered words weren’t enough. I had asked Serena to come to Denver. I was the reason she was here.
She didn’t respond and each moment of silence increased the pressure in my chest. Finally, she said, “You couldn’t have known this would happen.” Then she closed her eyes and edged slightly away—a rebuttal to further conversation.
Kyle squeezed my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered.
“Yes it is.”
I rested my cheek on his shoulder. His bare skin was warm and smelled faintly of smoke. “So I guess my attempt to save you from the life of a teenage runaway was a colossal failure.” My throat constricted and my voice came out thick. “If I hadn’t gotten you locked up, you might have gotten out.”
A tear leaked from the corner of my eye and Kyle stiffened as it landed on his chest. He let out a deep breath, almost a rough sigh. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Me too.” It occurred to me that the only times either of us had managed to say those words had been either during or just after mortal peril.
The truck shuddered to a stop.
Fear flooded my chest and sweat soaked the back of my shirt.
Next to me, Serena let out a small, strangled noise.
I had to find a way to get her out of this. To get both her and Kyle out of this.
The doors were thrown open. People struggled to their feet and moved back, hugging the shadows as two Trackers lowered the ramp and two more covered us with guns. As impossible as it seemed, they made the Trackers I’d come across in Hemlock seem tame.
Like cattle, we were forced off the truck and counted before guards in blue uniforms took over and herded us across an expanse of pavement. They carried guns that looked every bit as dangerous as the ones the Trackers were toting and made sure no one made a run for it.
Not that there was any place to run to.
We were in a courtyard behind a massive gate. A thirty-foot-tall fence topped with loops of razor wire stretched out from either side of the entrance and disappeared into the dark. It was easy to imagine that it went on forever.
Serena tilted her head to the side. “It’s electric,” she murmured.
“She’s right.” The girl from the coffee shop—the one with the indigo streak—was standing with Eve. “I can hear the voltage.” She took a step back and bumped into the wolf behind her. She shook her head sharply, the gesture almost violent. “I can’t be here. I can’t be in a camp.”
“It’s okay, Mel. We’ll be okay.” Eve’s tone was reassuring, but her eyes darted nervously to the guards and Trackers.
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” The look Mel shot Eve was pure misery. “What about my nan? Without someone there to look after her and make sure she takes her meds . . .” She swallowed. “What happens to her when I don’t come home?”
Eve didn’t answer.
I turned away.
Across the courtyard, a three-story building stood sentinel against the night. Ivy crawled up its redbrick walls and its roof rose up in a peak sharp enough to puncture the sky. It looked old and out of place compared to the collection of one-story buildings that ranged out behind it.
There was nothing to indicate which camp—and Mel was right, it had to be a camp—we were in.