Wearily, I walked away from the side of the building and snatched the bottle from Jason’s hand. The last thing we needed tonight was a Sheffield with lowered inhibitions. I debated taking a drink—God knew I could use something to slow the synapses firing in my head—but I capped the bottle and stashed it behind a stack of drywall.
Rough-hewn letters caught my eye as I straightened. Someone had carved Thornhill Sucks into a two-by-four. For some reason, the tiny act of rebellion made me feel braver.
The floor creaked behind me, but I just stared at the letters and tried to tell myself that everything would be all right.
“Are you okay?”
Jason was so close that his breath ruffled my hair.
“Yeah,” I lied.
“Mac . . . about tonight . . . if anything happens . . .”
I turned. “What is it?” Jason almost never had trouble with words. Whether they were the right ones or the wrong ones, they usually came easy to him.
Before he could reply, the rustle of plastic came from the edge of the construction site. A knot loosened in my chest as Kyle climbed into the building.
He held the sheeting aside, and Dex helped Eve through the gap. My eyes widened as the three of them drew near. Eve’s face was so pale that it practically glowed and she leaned on Dex as though her legs were shaking.
“We found her near the restricted zone in the woods,” explained Dex. “It took me weeks to build up a tolerance to the HFDs, but genius here thought she could do it in a couple of hours.”
“Was worth a shot,” muttered Eve. She pushed Dex’s hands away as he tried to steady her. “I’m fine, Dexter. I just need to shift. Besides, we’re already behind schedule.” She glanced at me. “Sorry about slipping out. And about being late.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but I probably would have tried the same thing in her place.
Dex walked to one of the far corners and hauled off his shirt. I quickly looked away as he reached for his fly. After a lot of debate that afternoon, we had agreed that Eve and Dex would cause a distraction to draw some of the guards out of the sanatorium. Then Jason, Kyle, and I would go in after Serena.
Eve shot Jason a glare as she headed for one of the other corners. “Sneak a peek, Tracker and I’ll gut you.”
“I could be infected with LS and dumped in an all-male rehab camp for a decade, and I still wouldn’t be desperate enough to look.”
I dropped my gaze to the floor—the safest place—as the room filled with a ghoulish cacophony of breaking bones and tearing muscle. It sounded like a slice of hell, and my fingers twitched with the urge to cover my ears.
A prickly sensation crept down my spine. I glanced up. Kyle was watching me, his face carefully blank. Was it hard for him not to shift? Did part of him want to?
When the noises stopped, I turned to face two wolves. One, Eve, was a rich silver. The other was pure white.
My heart lurched. Dex, I told myself. It’s just Dex.
The white wolf jumped gracefully to the ground, the silver wolf right on its heels.
Kyle followed, then turned to help me down. The feeling of his hand in mine was warm and familiar. Reassuring.
I glanced over my shoulder as my sneakers hit the ground. Jason was watching us—was staring at my hand in Kyle’s—with an expression filled with too many emotions to read, but entirely too easy to understand.
Wondering why things had to be so complicated, I eased my hand out of Kyle’s and put a fraction more space between us. I didn’t feel guilty—I couldn’t help the way I felt about Kyle and I wouldn’t want to—but I also didn’t want to hurt Jason. Not any more than I had to.
Love’s a game where the odds are permanently fixed. The house always wins, and anyone stupid enough to sit at the table is lucky if they walk away with their soul intact. Amy’s voice echoed back through the fog of memory. At the time, I had assumed she and Jason were in the middle of one of their usual fight–make up–make out cycles. Suddenly, though, I wondered if I had been responsible for those words, if Amy had known about—and been thinking of—Jason’s feelings for me when she uttered them.
I forced thoughts of Amy away. There wasn’t anything I could do to change things—no matter how much I wished I could.
Eve let out a small yelp as she and Dex circled us. The wrist cuffs had stayed in place through the transformation, and they threw the gait of each wolf slightly off.
Kyle crouched down so he could look her in the eye. “We’ll meet back here in an hour. If you get cut off, head for the dorms. We’ll try to get Serena to the truck.”
Eve’s wolfish gaze slid to me, and I gave her the slightest nod. No matter what happened to us, she had to make it to the truck. She had to get out of the camp for everyone’s sake. She tossed her head and then took off running, Dex following right behind.
Kyle, Jason, and I made our way through the camp. Three times, we had to hide from patrols. There were definitely more guards out than there had been last night, and most of them were heading to and from the fence—a fact I took as confirmation that Hank had gotten away. Even as a reg, he’d always had nine lives.
I didn’t want to care, but like it or not, he was the only father I had.
We reached the sanatorium and ducked into the shadows along the side of the building just as dueling howls split the night.
Every inch of my body hummed with adrenaline as a group of guards—six, maybe seven—thundered past. The howls came again, drawing the men farther into the camp.
“Stay here,” whispered Jason before disappearing around the corner.
A minute later, a low whistle cut through the air.
Kyle and I raced for the door at the front of the building.
Jason held it open, then slipped in behind us. “This way,” he said, taking the lead. We headed down a maze of gray hallways, taking so many twists and turns that I was certain I’d never remember the way back. All of the corridors looked the same, and I wondered how Jason could possibly know where he was going.
We rounded another corner and I froze at the sight of a security camera. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized there would be cameras? Why hadn’t I noticed them the last time I was here?
Jason paused and glanced back when he realized I had stopped. He followed the direction of my gaze. “Don’t worry. The night shift is too short staffed for anyone to watch the footage.”
Hoping he was right, I focused on the rest of the hallway. It was different from the others. My pulse skipped a beat as I recognized the white tile and the keypads next to the doors. We rounded another corner and there it was: the steel door I had found the last time I was here.
“The stairs are right on the other side,” said Jason. “I got a glimpse of them when I was scoping out the hallways this morning.”
Kyle headed for the keypad next to the door, and Jason slipped a notebook and pen out of his pocket. “I was a Boy Scout for six months,” he said, catching my flicker of surprise. “Being prepared was a whole thing.”
“It was Cub Scouts,” corrected Kyle, “and you got the both of us kicked out after three weeks.” He leaned down and put his face near the keypad.
Please, I prayed. Please let this work.
“Well?” asked Jason.
“Hang on. There are a lot of different scents on this thing.”
My heart plummeted. It had been a stupid idea. It had—
“Nine . . . three . . . two . . .” Kyle turned his head and sneezed. “Four and eight.”
Jason glanced at his notebook. “That’s only five numbers.”
Kyle checked the keypad again, then straightened and shook his head. “All the buttons smell, but it’s strongest on those five.”