Page 62 of Thrown to the Wolves

“We said we’d do this together.”

“And we will. You’ll wait down there to get Mrs. G the hell out of here when I bring her down. And then I’ll go back up and take care of Scarlett and Grandmother.” She doesn’t move. “Listen, I don’t want Suzy kicking my ass if you get hurt,” I try.

“I’m not going to get hurt,” she scoffs.

I’m done messing around. “Get out of here. That’s an order from your second, Boss, whether you want to hear it or not. You need to be somewhere safe in case?—”

In case I don’t make it back.

The unspoken words hang between us, and something close to vulnerability flickers across Hadria’s face.

“We don’t have time to argue about this,” I mutter. “And you know I’m right.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse again. But then her expression softens, just a fraction. She offers her arm, and I clasp it, two warriors wishing each other well on the battlefield. “You better come back alive, Wolf. That’s an order.”

“You know me, Hades. I always follow orders.”

And then she turns and heads back down while I take a minute to figure out my next move. I know exactly what’s coming down the stairs, so I guess I’ll take the mystery option—door number 10.

I step out cautiously, and find myself in what looks like a hotel or apartment block hallway with a score of doors leading into apartment units. I sweep through them rapidly yet thoroughly, senses on high alert for any ambush.

But there’s nothing—literally nothing. All these apartments are exactly the same: empty, completely unfurnished, and no signs of life, just layer upon layer of dust.

Only silence and emptiness surround me, pressing in as flashes from my childhood under Grandmother tear through my mind. While I didn’t grow up here, it’s still horribly familiar. All these rooms, barren of any comforts…

And that ever-present fear coiling in my gut…

I grit my teeth, my breaths coming short and sharp as memories batter at the edges of my consciousness. Not now. I can’t afford to get caught up in the past, not when Mrs. Graves’ life is at stake. Not when Scarlett?—

The thought of her, of the gutting betrayal and the confusing tangle of emotions she’s stirred up in me, hardens my resolve. I force myself to focus, breathing slow and steady until my body’s nervous system regulates itself once more.

Moving back through the corridors, I search for a way up, for the fastest route to the upper levels. But as I approach the elevators, a plan starting to form, I catch a movement in my periphery.

I whirl, gun raised, and find myself staring at?—

Me.

No. Not me. But the wolf mask is too familiar, hiding the upper part of the face. The lower part is free, and the woman wearing it smiles in mockery as I take a cautious step back.

The lethal grace in her stance reminds me of Scarlett, and for a split second, I think it is Scarlett, and some traitorous part of me jolts with…something. Relief? Anticipation?

It’s quickly extinguished as the woman launches herself at me.

This isn’t Scarlett, and disappointment makes me slower than I usually would be, slow enough that my shots are way off. I deflect her first few blows, falling into an instinctive defensive rhythm as I assess her skills. She’s good—really good—and I bet I know who she is.

Ducking beneath a high kick, I call out, “Ariadne, right? The one who killed Adam?”

If my words faze her, she doesn’t show it. We exchange a blistering series of attacks, her ferocity lending every strike a weight behind it.

But she lacks precision.

“I’ve killed scores of people,” she finally bites out, falling back a little to look me over. “You’ll have to clarify which one you mean.”

“Scarlett’s brother.”

For the first time, her movements hitch, just a fraction. “Yeah, that was me.” There’s a savage sort of pride in her admission, but it rings hollow. “Family is nothing but a useless diversion.”

“Is that what Grandmother told you?” I laugh. “She told me the same thing. And she’s wrong. Very fucking wrong.” I skip back, narrowly avoid her fist slamming into my jaw. “You’re pretty good,” I commend, ducking and weaving through the confined space of the hallway.

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