Page 44 of Luna Ascending

Suddenly everything's wrong. Without waiting for Lyell to finish Rennard leaps across the security line and barrels into the guards. The klaxon like alarm is eardrum shatteringly loud and incessant.

What the hell is the bugger thinking? This is a mess. I curse loudly and order everyone forward into the melee. Rennard hasn't even disabled the guards – one gets to his walkie-talkie and manages to garble a few words into it before scrambling around to face the advancing pack.

“What the hell Rennard...” the guard splutters before an enraged Tavey floors him and rips his throat out.

“What the fuck Rennard?!” I echo snarling violently.

Rennard shrugs dismissively “Your pet bear was taking too long”

On cue Lyell mind-links us that the bothy door is shutting automatically, and that we have company - his heat-map shows movement in the nearby building – the rest of the guards are mobilising.

Looking up I see a solid looking steel door coming down across the bothy doorway and leap toward it. I squeeze through the rapidly shutting entrance and somehow Tavey makes it in behind me.

“GET IT OPEN” I bark at Lyell down the mind-link

“Yes boss” comes the reply.

Tavey and I stand back to back in human form – there's not enough room in here for two wolves. The sound of feet pounds towards us from both upstairs and downstairs. Shit. I was so determined to get in here where the hostages were, I didn't consider the consequences of getting shut off from the rest of the pack.

The guards quickly surround us and I'm alarmed to see silver knives in a few hands. This is going to get nasty. Is this their normal precautions or were they pre-warned somehow? They start feigning attacks on several sides at once, testing us, searching for a weakness. Lyell better get that fucking door open soon. We block the onslaught as best we can, desperately avoiding the weapons.

Out the corner of my eye I see the sturdy metal door fly open, bursting off its hinges in a screech of metal and magic.

“Sorry, couldn't wait to see you again” chirps Freya as the pack swarms inside to our aid.

Thank the moon goddess for that woman and her magic! There's no time to think though, we're fighting in such close quarters the slightest wrong move could be fatal, especially with those blades.

I'm dispatching the nearest guard when I feel Tavey's focus shift. Looking up I catch a glimpse of him vanishing towards the stairs. Cursing I manage to incapacitate my opponent and follow Tavey. He's not thinking straight – he needs backup.

Tavey crashes along the tiny stairwell heading down towards the cellars where we think the captives are being held. All I can hear is his big frame bouncing off the walls and him hollering for Liz.

We barrel into the tiny room at the bottom together. The stink of unwashed bodies, blood and despair assaults our nostrils abruptly halting us. Normally having an acute sense of smell is a bonus, but it makes the pungent aromas down here almost unbearable. Several very dirty, scared looking faces peer at us from behind solid looking cell doors.

There's no fucking locks in sight – the doors are electronic. Tavey's lurching from one door to another searching for Liz. He's about as much use as a chocolate teapot like this. Lyell, on the other hand, might be able to help... I try picturing the doors in my head while mind-linking Lyell.

Almost immediately I can feel Lyell's smugness radiating down our link. He seems ridiculously bloody pleased with himself. There's a massive metallic clank which causes both Tavey and I to spin around, looking for the enemy. It takes a couple of seconds for me to register that the noise was the cell doors unlocking. That bear deserves a fucking medal!

The filthy, confused hostages stagger out blinking, but there's no Liz. My heart drops, we were so sure she would be here. It smells like she's been here recently, her scent is still lingering around the edge of the room. Tavey looks like he might tear the place to pieces, or break apart inside, I'm not sure which. My beta is coming undone at the seams.

Over the confused babbling of the hostages, I hone in on a rhythmic thumping almost at the same time Tavey does, and we dive towards a door at the other end of the room. It looks like a broom cupboard, but flinging it open I'm shocked to a stand-still.

Behind the door is a sterile surgical theatre suit. Metal counter tops glint and sinister looking implements hang on the walls, a metal gurney sits in the middle of the room under bright white lighting. More cells built into the wall house further hostages – these ones look more like fucking vet's crates. What kind of barbarian does this to anyone?! On the very end, locked inside a tiny cage is Liz. Tavey and I almost rip the thing in two getting her out.

Liz leaps into Tavey's arms with a shriek like a wounded animal, and bursts into tears. She's covered in bruises and already looks scarily thin. I've never seen Liz cry... and its dirty, ugly, racking sobs. I can't bring myself think of what they might have done to her here. I have to turn away to keep a lid on my anger.

Some of the hostages, are so malnourished and weak I'm worried how they're going to make to long trip down the hillside. Most of them are just standing huddled, holding each other up and looking bewildered. There's a whole mix of shifter types and the odd witch but they're clutching on to each other regardless of creed.

Shuffling out of the cells last comes an emaciated older looking woman. A puff of wind could blow her over. Her feet are dragging- she has barely enough energy to move them.

Freya and Angus charge into the cellar together breathless and covered in blood, just as I see the old lady teeter in the crush of bodies. I push my way across to support her, stopping her from falling, while still trying to eye Freya. She's covered in blood, it fucking better not be hers. She catches my eye and grins wildly giving me the thumbs up, and a wave of relief hits me.

Freya's eyes drop from my face onto the frail witch in my arms and she gasps in unison with Angus.

“Auntie Morgan!”

“Morganna!” Angus bellows grabbing the witch up from me so roughly I'm worried he'll hurt her.

Looking from the witch to Angus to Freya, I feel I'm missing something. I peer, confused, into the witch's face. Fuck me! Under all that dirt, grime and grief I finally see the resemblance to Freya, and to Tavey.

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