Thornhill

guards. “The blond gentleman in the olive uniform and the nice werewolf on my left are going to collect your Tasers and guns.”

Kyle hopped off the stage. Jason raised an eyebrow as he stowed his own weapon, but then turned and headed through the crowd. The wolves parted for them as they made their way to the men at the back of the room. Most of the guards looked angry, but a few looked frightened.

“Once you hand over your weapons, the wolves and I will be leaving the hall. We’d appreciate it if you’d let us go peacefully.” My voice was level and steady, full of confidence I didn’t feel. It was almost as though I was channeling someone else. Eve, I realized. I sounded like Eve.

“And why would we do that?” asked a burly guard who was definitely more angry than frightened. The sleeves of his uniform had been rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms that were covered in intricate patterns of ink.

“First: we outnumber you by, like, thirty to one. You might tase or shoot a few of us, but you won’t get all of us. Second”—and here I glanced at Sinclair—“we have the warden and we won’t let her go until we reach the gates. And third: the pack is tearing apart Thornhill as we speak. If you let us go peacefully, they won’t have a reason to come inside. Keep us in here, and they’ll eventually break down the door.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Sinclair’s voice rang out across the hall. “You know the policy: no negotiations with inmates—even in hostage situations.”

I raised my voice over hers as she spouted a section from the employee manual. “And if you need a more personal reason: the warden has purposefully been putting every Thornhill staff member at risk. Including each of you.”

“She’s lying.” I could feel the force of Sinclair’s glare between my shoulder blades; it was like a dagger buried to the hilt.

“That female wolf who was removed from the hall and the guy who’s currently holding your warden hostage? They aren’t the only ones the HFDs don’t work on. Wolves build up a tolerance. The more they’re exposed, the less they’re affected—it’s why the counselors have HFDs and you don’t. Sinclair is trying to limit how often they get hit. Sooner or later, every wolf in this camp could be immune.”

Hundreds of wolves stared at me in shock.

“Lies,” repeated Sinclair, but the guards weren’t listening to her.

“Did you know?” The guard with the tattoos turned to the uniform on his right. The wolves in the hall had fallen so quiet that, even with the noise coming from outside, it was easy to hear the exchange. “You didn’t seem surprised when that girl stayed on her feet.”

The other guard hesitated, then nodded. “Everyone assigned to duty in the detention block knows. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

The tattooed guard scowled at the words, then handed Kyle his gun and Jason his Taser. The rest of the guards quickly followed suit.

The boys returned to the dais, arms full, as Sinclair glared at the guards. If anything was left of Thornhill in the morning, I had a feeling each one of them would be getting a pink slip.

“Do we hand them out?” asked Dex as Kyle and Jason climbed onto the stage.

“No.” I expected Jason to speak, but the answer came from Kyle. “If you give them weapons, it’ll be too big a temptation. Someone will use one. It will just give the guards outside one more reason to shoot.” He headed for the far corner of the dais and left the guns hidden in the shadows.

Jason did the same with the Tasers.

“This is ridiculous.” Sinclair twisted in Dex’s grip. Her voice rose sharply and it was unclear whether she was addressing the guards or the wolves. “This is completely insane. Everything this girl has told you is a lie.”

Both groups ignored her.

The guard with the tats strode forward. “How many wolves are out there?”

“Enough,” I bluffed. The gunshots outside had almost stopped; I had no idea if that was a good sign or a bad one.

“If we let you leave, will you call off the attack on the other guards?”

I nodded. “Yes. You have my word.”

“And the warden?”

“We’ll let her go once we’re through the gates. Just like I said.”

“Conditional on the guards holding their fire,” added Kyle, “and provided all of the wolves—including the ones in the detention block—are allowed to leave.”

“You can’t!” The woman with the glasses pushed forward. One of the program coordinators pulled her back, hissing at her to keep quiet.

The guard stared at us for a long moment, then nodded and pulled a radio from his belt. He tried to raise the guards outside, but all he got was silence.

Hank. His team had succeeded in taking out the communications system. Please let them also have gotten to the detention block, I prayed, thinking of Serena. To the guard, I said, “We cut your radios.”

He shrugged. “Then you’ll have to let me out. I can’t make a deal if I can’t talk to the men outside.”

I hesitated. He had a point, but . . .

“I’ll go with him.” Jason hopped off the stage. “One of us has to, otherwise someone from the pack will attack him before he gets two words out.”

I knew he was right, but I hated splitting up. Still, there wasn’t much choice. “Be careful.”

He nodded before following the guard to the doors.

“Do you have any idea how valuable the wolves in the detention block are?” Sinclair pulled my attention away from Jason as he exited the auditorium. “Do you have the faintest clue what you’ll be jeopardizing if you take them out of here? The work you’ll destroy? The lives that could be saved? You think you’re helping them, but all you’ll do is prolong their suffering.”

“Prolong their suffering?” Dex’s hand curled around Sinclair’s neck. He didn’t scratch her or squeeze the breath from her throat, but the muscles in his arm writhed under the surface. “What about Corry? She wasn’t suffering before she got here. Did she suffer after you took her? What about the others? They’re people, not your personal lab rats.”

“They’re not,” said Sinclair, a note of misery in her voice that took me aback.

“Lab rats?” I asked, confused.

“People.” She rushed on. “As long as they can shift, they’re a threat that needs to be contained. But they can be disarmed. We’re so close.”

It was too much for Dex. “That’s what you did to Corry? You ‘disarmed’ her?” His hand tightened around the warden’s neck and she struggled for air.

“Dex. . . .” Kyle stepped forward. “Let me take her.”

Dex shook his head, the simple movement almost violent. “Did you hear what she said? We’re nothing but things to be opened up and tinkered with. That’s what she did to Corry. She opened her up and crossed her wires and when she didn’t like the result she threw her away.”

“I know,” said Kyle, voice soft but firm. Sinclair looked like she might pass out. “Dex, let me have her. You’re hurting her.”

“Corry’s dead because of her.”

“Hurting her won’t bring Corry back.” Kyle took a second step toward him, then a third. “If you hurt her—if you kill her—all anyone will remember about today is that a wolf killed a warden. What happened to Corry—what’s been happening to the wolves in the detention block—won’t matter because her death will be all anyone will see. We’re not bombs or weapons or things that need to be fixed, Dex.” Kyle’s gaze flicked to me, his eyes so deep and dark that they threatened to pull me under the surface. “But if you hurt her now, no one outside will see that.”

Emotions warred over Dex’s face, and for a moment I wasn’t sure which would win. Then, shaking with the effort it took, he released his hold on Sinclair and pushed her to Kyle. Shoulders hunched and head down, he stepped off the stage and joined the rest of the wolves.

The nearest wolves edged slightly away from him, and my chest ached. Dex had been proven right— something had happened to Corry, wolves had been killed at Thornhill—but it didn’t seem to matter.