Thornhill

How do we storm the castle?”

18

I PUSHED BACK A HEAVY PLASTIC SHEET AND PEERED OUT into the camp. Flashlight beams pierced the night in the distance. Lots of them.

Eve had slipped away from the dorm just after curfew, leaving a note that said she’d meet us—as planned —at eleven. With no idea where she had gone or why, I’d had little choice but to wait until I met the guys at the half-constructed classroom we had agreed to use as a staging point.

When Eve still hadn’t shown after twenty minutes, Kyle and Dex had gone looking for her. That had been fifteen minutes ago, and every additional second made the silence heavy and the air harder to breathe.

“You ever hear that expression about a watched pot?” Jason’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I glared over my shoulder.

Moonlight filtered through the plastic, but his face was in shadow. He leaned against a support beam, bottle in hand, not drinking, just twisting the cap on and off. “I’m just saying that driving yourself crazy won’t make them show any faster.”

“Aren’t you even a little worried?”

Jason shrugged. “Kyle and Dex can take care of themselves.” But he fumbled the cap and took a swig from the bottle.

He was just as worried as I was. Maybe it should have been reassuring to know that someone felt the same way. It wasn’t.

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