Even if Sinclair hadn’t taken the wolves as hostages, she’d be a fool not to use them once she realized the camp was under attack. We had to come up with a plan before that happened.
My eyes locked on Kyle. “We’ll find a way to get you out,” I whispered. “I promise.”
Just as the last syllable left my lips, an explosion ripped through the camp.
THE WINDOWS RATTLED AND THE WALLS SHOOK. PEOPLE surged to their feet and bodies churned around us like water. Jason and I were ripped apart and pulled to opposite sides of the room. I fought against the sea of wolves and craned my neck, desperate to get a glimpse of the platform.
Sinclair was shouting at the guards, but her voice was lost under the roar of the crowd. Behind her, Kyle strained against his restraints. The muscles in his shoulders and arms writhed under the skin. I shouted his name, terrified he would lose control and give the guards a reason to shoot him.
He gave a final tug and the chain snapped. The end of it whipped through the air and forced Sinclair to jump back. In her haste not to get hit, she lost her grip on her HFD. The small device went flying and landed harmlessly among the wolves.
Kyle scanned the mob—checking to make sure Jason and I were all right—before crouching next to Dex and working to free him.
Langley turned toward them, HFD in hand. A chunk of the wall next to her exploded and she dropped the device.
My eyes found Jason.
He stood in the middle of the crowd, gun drawn, eyes darting between the two program coordinators and the woman with the glasses in case any of them went for their HFDs. A few people around him dove down and covered their heads, but most of the wolves were so panicked that they didn’t realize where the shots had come from.
“Trackers.” The word tore through the auditorium and grew in strength until it drowned out everything else. It made no sense—why would Trackers attack a camp?—but the wolves had lived under the threat of raids and attacks so long that it was the first conclusion they rushed to when things started exploding.
Faint gunshots could be heard outside, lending credence to the cries.
“It’s the Eumon pack! It’s not the Trackers! It’s a rescue!” I couldn’t make myself heard over the chaos.
The guards at the back of the hall didn’t know what to do. One chained the doors shut while a few tried to make their way to the dais where Kyle and Dex had cornered Sinclair and the other four staff members.
One guard panicked and fired into the throng as wolves began losing control and shifting.
On the platform, Dex lunged for Sinclair. He pulled her arms behind her back with one hand as he thrust her in front of him. He put his other hand near her neck. “Stop!” he roared as the guards pressed forward. “Anyone else shoots at the wolves and you get the warden back in pieces.” The bones in his hands snapped and lengthened, adding weight to the threat.
Looking at the barely controlled rage on Dex’s face—an expression so far removed from the boy I’d gotten to know over the past week—I had a feeling he wasn’t bluffing.
Kyle was on the same wavelength. He shot Dex a nervous glance as he confiscated HFDs from the woman with the glasses and the two program coordinators.
Dex’s threat worked—at least temporarily. No more shots were fired on the crowd.
Unfortunately, the crowd was too far gone to notice.
Around me, more wolves lost control. We had to do something to stop the mass panic. Quickly. Otherwise —threat to Sinclair or not—the guards would open fire en masse.
A body crashed into me, hitting me so hard that I flew back and landed on the auditorium floor. I had to move or risk being trampled, but I spent a handful of seconds staring up at the latticework of pipes crisscrossing the ceiling as an idea took shape.
I had to get to Jason.
I pushed myself to my feet, but before I could take a single step, another hit sent me crashing back to the ground. A foot connected with my stomach as a wolf tripped over me. The wolf went sprawling, and I pulled my knees up to my chest and retched.
Suddenly, someone’s arms were around me, lifting me and shielding me.
“Kyle!” I threw my arms around him and buried my face against his neck, for a second not caring that we were in the middle of a stampeding mob.
He eased back to check me for injuries. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that working out?”
“This part wasn’t in the plan,” I admitted. I took a deep breath. “I need to get to Jason. I have an idea.”
To Kyle’s credit, he didn’t argue or question. “Okay. C’mon.” He grabbed my hand and fought his way to the center of the room, keeping me close and safe until we reached Jason’s side.
“How many bullets do you have?” I asked, pressing my mouth close to Jason’s ear.
The small, tight grin that flashed across his face was completely mirthless. “Three times as many as I intend to use,” he said, quoting one of his father’s many gun tips.
I glanced up at the fire sprinkler above our heads. It was hard to tell from the ground, but I was reasonably sure it was the kind with a bulb inside. Break the bulb, and the sprinkler would go off—not an easy shot, but Jason’s father had been dragging him to target practice since he was a toddler. “I need you to take out some of the sprinkler heads.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Do you really think this is the time for a wet T-shirt contest?”
A few feet away, a girl lost control and doubled over.
“Please, Jason!” Without waiting for a response, I turned and raced for the dais, trusting Kyle would follow.
There was a chorus of yelps behind me as the first sprinkler went off, but I didn’t look back. I knew Jason would hit more of them and I had to get to the front of the room before the surprise wore off.
Sinclair’s eyes widened slightly as I jogged up the three stairs to the platform.
“Decided to come back and visit?” asked Dex. His voice was steady, but his arms were shaking and his skin was covered in sweat.
“Something like that,” I said, hoping he wasn’t as close to losing control as he looked. I shot a quick glance at the staff members standing off to the side. None of them took their eyes off Dex. As long as he held Sinclair hostage, he held sway over them. Even, it seemed, over someone as brutal as Langley.
“You’re making a huge mistake.” Somehow, despite the fact that she was being held hostage by a werewolf she had probably tortured, Sinclair still managed to sound authoritative. “You’re only chance is—”
Dex flexed his hand against her throat and she immediately stopped talking.
I turned to face the auditorium. The shock of the water seemed to have kept more wolves from shifting, but they were focused on Jason, not the front of the room. Low rumblings started as a few people recognized him from his short stint as a counselor.
I glanced at Kyle. “I need to get their attention.”
Kyle cracked his neck and let loose a howl that no human throat was capable of.
Almost like a single unit, the wolves turned to the front of the room. Even the guards—who had regrouped near the doors—stared expectantly at the stage.
I glanced at Kyle. “Neat,” I murmured. He blushed and then shrugged.
Focusing back on the crowd, I raised my voice until I was practically shouting. “The explosion was the gates being blown. The Eumon pack is breaking us out.”
Some people looked excited and others relieved, but a lot of the faces in the crowd looked skeptical. “We have to get to the gates,” I continued. “Once we get past them, the pack has escape routes and transportation set up.”
Wolves shot questions at me—so many and so fast that they all blurred together—but I addressed the
