Page 271 of Golden Eagle

“I’m going back out. For good. And I want you two to come with me. With me and my friends. They’ll help us.”

Dr. Hastings stood up, pretend smile falling away. Behind him, he heard the orderlies’ shoes scuff on the tile. “Seven, this isn’t anything you should be talking about. Get in your bed, and get some sleep.”

He ignored her. Moved his gaze instead between his two brothers. “There’s a man named Rob – a wolf – who knows our sister. Do you remember Five? She’s Red, now, just like I’m Severin. He can introduce us, he said. We can all be together.”

“Seven.”

“Would you like that?” he asked them.

“Yes!” Eighteen said, immediately.

Twelve was slower to agree, staring hard at Severin.

You’ve never doubted me, Severin thought, and tipped his head, imploring.Trust me now.

They couldn’t communicate like that, telepathically, but something in his gaze got through to Twelve. He nodded. “Yes,” he said, just a whisper.

“Seven!” Hastings barked.

He lifted a hand toward her. “My name is Severin.” And threw fire.

~*~

They went down an empty stairwell, and through a series of empty halls, footsteps echoing hollowly off the concrete walls.

“Creepy as shit,” Lanny said.

Especially when you considered that, at some point, they’d run into a horde of ravenous, senseless monsters who’d probably try to eat them.

“Should be getting near–” Will said.

And a door banged open in front of them. Thick gray smoke boiled out.

Sasha skidded to a halt, growling, ruff up.

Nikita stopped beside him, and raised his gun.

Severin stepped out into the hall, wreathed in smoke, towing two other boys with him. One looked mid-teens, gangly and awkward, and the other was just a little thing, not even ten. Severin had them both by the hands, one on either side.

The smoke was thick with the scent of charred meat.

“Your brothers?” Nikita asked, as if there was any mistaking the red hair and freckles.

“Twelve and Eighteen, for now,” Severin said, calmly, like he hadn’t just burned someone – which he obviously had, given the smell.

The little one, Eighteen, was crying.

Will peeked into the room, waving the smoke from his face, grimaced, and shook his head.

“We’ve gotta move,” Nikita said. “They’ve all pulled back to secure locales and are turning something nasty loose on us.”

“What about Alexei?”

“We’ll find him. But we need to get you three outside first.” One disaster at a time.

“I know where they’ll have taken him. We’ll come with you. We’ll help.”

“No offense, kid,” Lanny said. “But–”