Page 92 of His Claim
The air inside the base was cold. It carried that sterile, metallic tang that reminded me of a mixture of iron and blood.
Elsie led the way, crouched low, her movements confident and well practiced. She seemed to know every turn, every shadow, every place where the lights flickered and the cameras didn’t quite reach. I followed close behind her, my heart hammering, the echo of our footsteps swallowed by the hum of generators.
We moved through corridors that felt too familiar with walls painted the same washed-out gray as the compounds, reinforced glass windows darkened by grime. The deeper we went, the thicker the air grew with tension.
“You sure about this?” I whispered.
Elsie’s grin was quick, maybe even a little amused. “Sweetheart, I’m never sure about anything, but I know where we’re going.”
She pointed down a narrow service hall, where a half-open door glowed faintly red from the emergency lights inside. “That’s the auxiliary wing. Labs are two levels down. We’ll take the lift shaft. It’s faster and safer than the stairs.”
We slipped inside, the heavy door groaning faintly as it closed behind us. My pulse raced as I pressed my back against the wall, waiting for the footsteps of guards that never came. The silence was almost worse.
Elsie tugged open the access panel beside the elevator and pulled out a thin cable, hooking it to her belt. “Guess who used to run supplies through here before the Council wised up?”
I arched a brow. “You?”
She smirked. “I get around.”
She dropped into the shaft with a fluid motion, boots catching the maintenance ladder. “Come on, little wolf. Try to keep up. And pull that panel back over the opening before you start down.”
I followed her instructions, gripping the cold rungs, trying not to look down into the darkness yawning below. The climb was shorter than I expected, and soon Elsie had her ear pressed up against another panel, listening for the sounds of movement on the other side. She swung a little metal flap up and put her eye to a peephole drilled in the metal. When she was certain there was no one on lurking beyond, she pried open the panel and slipped into a dimly lit hallway lined with sealed glass doors.
She ducked down and motioned for me to do the same. “There,” she whispered, pointing toward a reinforced door at the end of the corridor. “That’s the lab.”
The hall stretched long and quiet, lit only by a flickering strip of light that buzzed overhead. Every instinct in me screamed that something wasn’t right.
“Elsie,” I whispered. “It’s too empty.”
She frowned, but kept moving. “The Council’s not stupid. They don’t keep guards where they don’t need them. Trust me?—”
The words died in her throat when the lights snapped off.
For a heartbeat, we were plunged into darkness. Then came the metallic click of locks sliding into place behind us.
Elsie swore under her breath. “Fuck. It’s a trap.”
The corridor exploded in white light, blinding and sudden. I threw up an arm to shield my eyes as the sound of boots thundered from the far end of the hallway. Wolves. A full patrol, rifles raised, their eyes cold and empty.
“Hands where I can see them!” one barked, his voice commanding.
Elsie’s rifle was in her hands before the words were done. She fired multiple times, the crack of the shots deafening in the narrow space. Two wolves went down, but the others responded fast. A second later, sparks rained down as bullets tore into the walls.
“Run!” she shouted, grabbing my arm. We sprinted down the corridor, the air burning with smoke and gunpowder. We turned a corner and nearly collided with another squad. Elsie swung her rifle up, fired once, twice. A wolf went down hard, another screamed as a bullet caught his leg. She shoved me toward a side door. “Go!”
I yanked it open and stumbled inside, the room beyond lit only by emergency lights. It was a storage area full of rows of broken equipment and crates stamped with the Council’s seal.
Elsie kicked a spent casing away from her boot and reloaded with quick, steady hands. “Well,” she muttered, “so much for subtlety.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice rough.
“I’m alive,” she said. “I’ll take it.”
“Come on. We need to move before someone notices we’re in here.”
Elsie reached into her pocket and pulled out some small cylindrical thing and threw it at the wall. Suddenly, we were enveloped in smoke, and she grabbed my hand. We slipped out another door and into a side passage. The corridor was narrow, opening into a junction where the overhead pipes hissed faintly. The hum of generators grew louder, vibrating through the walls.
Elsie slowed, pressing a hand against my arm. “Do you hear that?”
