I managed a nod as we raced down the ladder.
Jason swept me into a hug as soon as my shoes touched the ground. I let him hold me for a few seconds and then gently pushed him away. “I’m okay, Jason, I’m fine.” I was superconscious of the group of ultratough werewolves standing a few feet away, and I didn’t want Hank to think that bringing me had been a mistake, that I’d fall apart every time there was trouble.
“The hug was to reassure myself, actually,” said Jason.
I was about to retort when Eve shouted to get back. Grabbing Jason’s hand, I ran from the tower.
With the tortured sound of twisting metal, the ladder gave way and crashed to the ground where we had just been standing.
I glanced at the fence. Sparks lit the night where the cable had become tangled in the wire.
Now there was no way out except through the main gate.
Eve turned to Hank. “Do you think they’ll send someone to check?”
He nodded. “Not right away—they’ll probably assume an animal got caught—but eventually.” He drew two of the wolves aside. “Stay here and watch the fence. If anyone shows up, keep them from contacting the rest of the camp and raising the alarm.”
“Without killing them,” added Jason.
Hank shot him the kind of look that said he might be tempted to do some killing of his own. “Without killing them—
Jason frowned but thankfully didn’t push. The last thing we needed was for my father to lose his temper and leave us at the fence with a couple of werewolf babysitters.
Eve retrieved one of the black bags. “You heard him,” she said as she unzipped the top flap and began handing out guns and magazines. “Bullets are a last resort. Don’t shoot unless you have to or unless someone has an HFD.”
Jason reached for a gun and she hesitated. She glanced at Hank. Only after he nodded did she hand one over.
“Smith and Wesson. Forty caliber.” Jason turned the gun over in his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I figured werewolves would pack something bigger.”
“Not when we’re hunting regs,” said one of the other wolves.
Maybe it was my imagination, but Jason seemed to pale slightly. Without further comment, he loaded the magazine Eve handed him and then tucked the gun into the back of his waistband.
“Here,” she said, passing him the toolkit and device for testing the HFDs. “I went back to the greenhouse and snagged these before I left last night.”
She turned to me. “Gun?”
I shook my head. I knew how to shoot—I couldn’t count the number of times Jason had dragged me to the shooting range to act as a buffer between him and his father—but I was scared of what I might do if I was let loose in Thornhill with a gun—especially if Sinclair had hurt Kyle and Dex or done anything else to Serena.
I glanced in the direction of the sanatorium and pressed my nails into my palm, pressed them so hard I broke the skin.
No, me loose in Thornhill with a gun would not be a good idea.
To my surprise, Eve didn’t take one, either. “First thing we have to do is hit the laundry building,” she said as she tossed the bag to one of the wolves staying behind. “We’re not going to blend in dressed like this.”
Hank shouldered the other backpack and began giving orders. I tried to pay attention, but the lights from the camp kept pulling my gaze.
I tuned back in just as Hank finished. It didn’t matter: I already knew my part in the plan.
Jason and I fell into step behind the wolves as we headed toward the center of camp. To my surprise, Hank hung back.
“That charm still on your bracelet?” he asked, shooting a glance at my wrist.
I nodded and pushed up my sleeve. “Yeah.”
“Good. As long as you keep it on, I’ll know where you are.”
“I . . . umm . . . okay . . .” It didn’t seem like the kind of statement that should require a “thank-you,” but I felt like I had to say something. Maybe other daughters could take that sort of quasi-caring sentiment for granted —maybe Eve could take it for granted—but I wasn’t used to it and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
Hank seemed just as uncomfortable. He nodded once, and then returned to his place at the front of the group.
We left the fields and walked past the woods, then came to a stop as the camp loomed before us.
I took a deep breath and went to stand beside Eve.
We shared a brief glance—a second of perfect understanding—and then both looked ahead.
The last time we had entered Thornhill, we had been scared, helpless.
This time, we were coming to tear it down.
“SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT.” I STOPPED IN THE SHADOWS next to a dormitory. “It’s too quiet.”
Jason glanced back at me. He had donned an olive uniform—the male equivalent of the outfits Eve and I had slipped into—and for all intents and purposes, he looked just like a Thornhill werewolf. “It’s after curfew,” he said, as if that explained everything.
It didn’t.
“There should still be something. Voices coming from open windows. Toilets flushing. Guards on patrol. There should still be some noise.”
But around us, the camp was as silent as a tomb.
Eve tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Mac’s right. It’s too quiet.”
“We’re wasting time.” The wolf Hank had sent with us—a man with a gray handlebar mustache and the faint trace of an unidentifiable accent—eased around us. “Curtis gave us a job and we have to get it done.”
We had split into two groups. The first—led by Hank—had headed for the sanatorium to take down Thornhill’s communications system. That would keep anyone from contacting the LSRB and make it harder for the guards inside the camp to coordinate a response once they realized they were under attack. After the communications system was down, they would blow the gates, providing a way in for the dozens of wolves who were lying in wait outside.
Once they accomplished those two things, Hank’s team would hit the detention block.
I hated that Serena, Kyle, and Dex came third, but I understood the reasoning: Without taking care of the communications system and the gates, we’d never be able to get them out of the camp. There was no way any of us would get out.
I had wanted to go with them, but I had convinced Hank he needed me to help combat the HFDs and he was holding me to that. The other team—my team—had been tasked with neutralizing the handheld versions of the device.
The HFDs were signed in and out at the beginning and end of each counselor’s shift. Any not in use— including extras in the event they were needed by guards—were stored in the vault, a room in the basement of the staff quarters, which also housed the traditional weapons like Tasers and guns.
Most of the counselors would be off duty by this time of night, so most of the HFDs should be signed in. All we had to do was get into the staff quarters without anyone raising the alarm, get down to the vault, destroy every HFD we could find, get back out without getting shot, and then rejoin Hank’s group.
Easy.
No problem at all.
Definitely not any sort of suicide mission.
The male wolf paused at the corner of the dorm. “Well?” he asked, shooting Eve an impatient look before rounding the building and disappearing from sight.
