Pride Unleashed Page 11

  My heart pounds at that thought and my restless wolf, anxious to break free from her cell, howls for me to make my move. As impatience thrums through her I try to soothe her, to remind her that we can’t ever act on impulse again. The noises ringing out upstairs are a sign that the household is still awake and we need to exercise both caution and restraint.

  I close my eyes to rest them and a long time later, when I finally hear the upstairs settle, I turn to Sandy to find her breathing softly, a good indication that she’s fallen asleep. I wait a moment longer just to be sure then ease myself from my cot. I drop to my knees, suck in air and quietly lift the corner of my cot. Even though I know it has to be there, I still breathe a sigh of relief when my gaze lands on the shiny new key.

  I wrap my palm around it and hold it tight while I stuff my pillow under my ratty blanket to make it look like I’m still in bed asleep. Stepping back, I observe my handiwork. It’s not convincing by any means, but it’s the best I can do with limited supplies. With that I tip-toe to my cage door and as I mentally rehearse my plan, I can hardly believe what I’m about to do.

  Quieting my heartbeat, I use slow, careful movements and slip my small shaky hands through the narrow bars until the key is aligned with the lock. Despite the cold room, beads of moisture pool on my forehead, and I use my arm to wipe them away. I push the key in and almost howl with joy when it easily slips inside the keyhole, a perfect match.

  I hold still for a minute and my ears twitch, half expecting the master to come barreling down the stairs because I’ve set off some sort of alarm. When nothing happens, and knowing I can’t afford any distractions—anything that can rattle my hard earned focus—I return my full attention to the lock.

  I give the key a quick twist and cringe when the bolt makes a loud clicking sound. Sandy rolls in her cot, the coils squeaking beneath her tiny frame. I hold my breath and remain still and the joints in my neck crack slightly as I angle my head to see her, to assure myself the sound hasn’t dragged her from her slumber. When I find her eyes shut and her breathing slow and steady, I relax slightly and take a moment to regroup.

  I take three deep breaths, then after getting myself under control I work quickly, pull the cage door open just enough to slip out, then I secure it shut behind me. I drop to the floor and hide the key between the cement pad and the bottom metal rail of my cell before I stand back up. Pushing myself further into the shadows, I brush the dirt from my hands and look overhead.

  In the darkened room my eyes follow the path of the ventilation ducts and I somehow have to find the route that will lead me to Gem. But the first thing I need to do is get up high so I can reach it.

  I move back to my cage, grip the metal bars and pull myself upward until I’m on the top of my cage. I rise up and stand on the long, narrow rungs. Spreading my arms to balance myself, I slowly put one foot in front of the other, my toes curling around the cold metal. I walk steadily, shoulders back and head held high, like Miss Kara taught me, until I’m directly beneath the ventilation duct. Without making a sound, I grip the jagged edge and with every ounce of strength I possess, I pull myself inside.

  Once I’m into the darkened tunnel, I take a moment to breathe and try not to let myself get overwhelmed by the tight space as I gather my bearings.

  I widen my arms and legs, bracing my palms and feet on the metal duct so I can shimmy upward. The tubing feels icy and slippery against my bare soles and it takes all my strength and determination to climb up. Once I reach the main level of the mansion, I take a moment to position myself, and work to settle my racing heart as I try to figure out where I am.

  I push my hair from my face, wishing I’d kept it tied up. That’s when I see a light up ahead, filtering into the ventilations system from a downstairs floor grate. I begin to crawl on my hands and knees toward it.

  Every now and then the metal tubing makes a groaning sound beneath my light weight, and it forces me to stop and listen, making this mission that much harder, that much longer.

  When I finally reach the plastic grate, I peer down and see the long hallway leading to the master’s office. That’s the last place I want to go—I have no doubt that he’s in there planning and strategizing some brutal event for tomorrow. That thought has me hurrying onward. Even though I have no idea what cruelties he has in store, everything in my gut warns that it’s meant for me.

  As a cold shiver moves through my veins it elicits a quake from deep within, forcing me to use extra caution when climbing over the grate. Once I’ve cleared it, I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and continue my forward trek.

  When my duct comes to an abrupt end, only to meet up with another channel running perpendicular to it, I consider my next move. Knowing I need to go east, I slide into the tunnel to my right, hoping it’s the path that will lead me to Gem.

  I crawl along the thin metal tubing, thankful for my size and my ability to move about the confined space swiftly and quietly. I stop every now and then to breathe deep in an attempt to capture Gem’s scent. Off in the distance I hear noises and catch faint traces of conversation throughout the household. Senses finely tuned, I listen for anything that can help me, or pinpoint my exact location.

  As I continue forward my mind takes that time to give further consideration to what Stone told me in the courtyard—that not all wolves want or can be saved. But I know that everyone, including wild animals, have a will to live and somehow I have to make them understand that what they’re doing here isn’t living.

  It’s simply surviving.

  Everything about this abnormal situation goes against our primal nature, and no matter what, I have to convince them to turn their backs on all they’ve ever known and trust in me, because the truth of the matter is, I’m responsible for enough death as it is, and won’t stand for any more.

  Up ahead I see another grate, the soft white rays of light filter into the darkened tunnel and provide a pathway. I hurry to it in an effort to gather my bearings. I hover over the grate and peer through the plastic slats. While I’m not familiar with this wing of the estate, I sense that I’m getting close. I go deeper into the mansion and worry gnaws at me when I realize just how long this is taking. I work to memorize each twist and turn so I’ll know how to find my way back. I can only hope I make it to my cot before Sandy wakes up.

  As I approach another vent, I stop and breathe deep. That’s when I catch Gem’s distinctive scent.

  My heart leaps and like a bloodhound on the hunt I pull in the scent and follow Gem’s fragrance until I come to another grate. I look through it, and my pulse leaps when I spot what looks like a bedroom. A dim lamp casts shadows over the room and there is an eerie stillness, an unnatural silence that has the hairs on my nape rising.

  I shift my focus and that’s when I spot Gem in a small cage at the foot of a king sized bed. Her clothes are ripped, her long blood-crusted hair is matted to her head, and she doesn’t appear to be breathing. I feel a moment of panic, but then I calm myself and listen closely. When I catch the faint sound of her blood moving through her veins, I know she’s still alive.

  Both relief and anger rushes through me. While I’m relieved to find her alive and breathing, it infuriates me that the master has kept her locked away from the others and is allowing her to remain in such a disheveled state.

  And here I thought I couldn’t hate him any more than I already do.

  I want to call out to her, but I don’t dare. I poke my hands through the grate and twist it until I’m able to dislodge it. When it pops from the wall with a loud snap, I turn my body until I’m lying on my stomach, push my legs through the tight opening and drop to the ground.

  My feet land softly and I widen my stance to brace myself, expecting an attack. When none comes, I quickly assess the situation, dart across the carpeted floor, and sink to my knees in front of Gem’s cage.

  My heart clenches when I see the ragged state she’s in. I reach inside and smooth my hand over her hair as I speak
in whispered words, not wanting to startle her.

  “Gem, you need to wake up.”

  Her dark lashes fling open and at first my heart seizes because her beautiful green eyes, eyes that once resembled precious gemstones, have lost their luster. They look blank, empty. Lost. Which begs the question, has the master broken her?

  I keep my voice low but firm. “Gem, it’s me, Pride,” I say with forcefulness, hoping to snap her out of her stupor.

  She blinks once, twice, then her eyes widened with recognition. “Pride,” she whispers, before glancing past my shoulder. I follow her eyes and my body tenses as I look behind me, half expecting to find someone standing there.

  Gem squirrels backward until she’s pressed against the far end of her cage. Her guard goes up and she hugs her knees to her chest in a defensive reaction. Dread takes hold of me and as her throat makes an agonized sound, I fear if I don’t get her out of here soon, I’ll lose her to the dark side, like Sandy.

  “Shhh,” I whisper and put my finger to her lips.

  “You shouldn’t be in here. It’s dangerous.”

  “Has he hurt you?”

  She nods but says, “I’ll be okay.”

  “I promise I’ll get you out of here,” I say, wanting her to understand that she’s going to be okay before I begin to press for information.

  She nods and loosens her hold on her knees. “Okay,” she says without question and the amount of trust she’s willing to place in me doesn’t go unnoticed.

  Without preamble I get right to the point. “I need to know everything you know.”

  She nods again.

  I flick my head toward the window. “What happened out there? Tell me exactly how things went down.”

  Dark fear moves over her face and her look is distant and distracted and I can tell she’s reliving horrible memories.

  “Gem,” I say again and reach though the cage to place my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to bring her focus back around to me. Her skin is hot, sticky, like she’s running some sort of fever. Since werewolves don’t get sick, I can’t help but think the master has done something to her. I think back to the poison the officers injected into me when I was on the run, and remember how it made me feel.

  Has the master injected her with something as well?

  “Where is your pack?” I rush out, worry prompting me to push harder for information. “What happen to them?”

  I see a new paleness in her face, a tension in her posture I’ve never seen before and her chest heaves when she says. “We were all positioned, waiting for the cannon to sound at noon so we could take out the handlers…” Her voice falls off and her brow furrows.

  “But that didn’t happen,” I remind her. “What did?”

  “It was broad daylight.” She gives a slow shake of her head and her voice sounds strangled when she continues. “And we didn’t even see them coming.”

  “Didn’t see who coming?” I question, determined to get to the bottom of matters.

  “Not who. What would be more accurate.” Her hand catches hold of mine and a hot shiver rushes through my blood.

  Determined to get the details from her I question, “Okay, what then?”

  She exhales a shallow breath. “You’re not going to believe me.” Her brows collide and she gives a slow, perplexed shake of her head. “Honestly, I’m not even sure if I believe it. Maybe this fever is making me delirious.”

  I go back on my heels and give her hand a comforting squeeze to let her know she’s not delirious. “Let me guess. You were attacked by shape-shifting panthers.”

  Surprise registers on her face and her eyes go wide. “How did you know?”

  “I saw them on the monitors and when I mentioned it to Logan, he explained what they were.”

  “We’ve always been taught that other shifters existed, but I’d never seen anything like them before. They were long, black, sleek, and vicious.”

  “Did they…” My hands fall away as I stop speaking. I struggle to figure out how to push the next question past my lips, but I can tell she already knows what it is I’m trying to ask.

  “No, they ran, and then the panthers took chase. Wolves are fast, but cats are fast, too.”

  “Do you think they caught them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How did you get away, Gem?”

  She grips the cold bars of her small cage, her face close to mine. “I didn’t.”

  I look at her, confused for a moment and then realize what she means. “No. I mean how did you get away from the panthers?”

  “I didn’t,” she says again. “One trapped me. He was big, black and dangerous but what I remember most was his eyes. They were the deepest shade of gray I’d ever seen, but underneath all that feral hardness I saw something else.”

  “What was it?”

  She looks down for a moment, her long lashes shadowing her emotions, then she whispers, “I think it was compassion. I think he felt sorry for me so he let me go.”

  For a moment my brain stalls. “He let you go?” I ask again, dumbfounded.

  “Yes, and I used that opportunity to run for the front door of the mansion.”

  I frown and watch her stretch her legs out in front of herself. Even inside the small cage her movements are calculated and graceful, a reminder that while her name says it all—that she’s vibrant and bubbly—in wolf form she’s not only streamlined and fast, she can think on her feet.

  “Why did you do that?” I ask. “Why didn’t you run away?”

  “I couldn’t leave you in here thinking we’d abandoned you. Besides, I figured I’d be more help to you on the inside now that our plan failed.”

  Her response stuns me and I almost blurt out how wrong she is, how her capture has only slowed us down because we’re unable to flee the courtyard until we figure out a way to free her or convince the master to place her in the cellar with the rest of us. But I can’t bring myself to say those things, because I know it will only hurt her and she doesn’t deserve that from me.

  Instead I say, “We have to find your family, but we have to get out of here first.”

  “What’s the new plan?” Her green eyes are wide and waiting, fully expecting me to have the solution.

  But I don’t. So I don’t answer.

  It does, however, occur to me that everyone is counting on me, putting their trust in me. I redirect the conversation and try to sound more sure of myself than I am. “Tell me, did you see or hear anyone else out there? Someone has to be controlling these shifters and we need to know what we’re up against.”

  She goes quiet for a moment and her eyes narrow as they once again cast down in thought. Then a moment later her chin comes up with a start and I hear the quiver in her voice when she asks, “Do you think it could be the PTF?”

  “No I don’t,” I say neglecting to tell her that whoever is harnessing panthers just might be more deadly than the PTF.

  “Why?”

  “Because they hunt all things that go bump in the night. They don’t harness them.”

  “Then who?”

  “That’s what I need to find out.”

  Her eyes go serious as they track to the ventilation system and I can almost hear her mind racing. “Tell me how you found me, Pride. How did you get out of your cell?”

  “I found a key.”

  “Is it the master key?” she asks, a measure of hope backlighting her vibrant green eyes.

  My head comes back with a start. “Master key?” I ask. Is there really such a thing?

  “Yes, the master keeps it secured to his belt. It’s on this long stretchable elastic he keeps on his buckle.”

  I take a moment to reflect on that. I’m astute and aware, always taking note of everything around me and searching for a way out, which makes me wonder why I missed that very important detail. As I ponder that, Gem answers my unasked question.

  “Since he’s the one handling me, I’ve seen him use it. It opens all the doors.” I see a ne
w sparkle in her eyes and it gives me hope that she’s going to be okay.

  I catch hold of her hand again and my mouth drops as a new plan begins to formulate inside my brain. If I can get my hand on the master key then I can unlock all the cells and we can break out under the cover of darkness. Stone knows the code to the alarm system and can lead everyone to safety while I settle some unfinished business with the master.

  But I can’t forget that once we make it outside, we still have to face the beasts waiting for us beyond the perimeter. Except, I remind myself, they’re not really after us. They’re after the master. And I might be able to use that to my advantage.

  “Does he ever take it off?”

  “Yes, he’s been keeping me close, leading me around with him and just last night when I was in his west wing office I saw him drop it into his desk drawer.”

  As I listen to Gem, I realize I’d been wrong in my thinking earlier. She is far more helpful on the inside that I ever could have imagined. It’s because of her that I now have a new game plan.

  I smile at her, finally understanding why Malcolm would bring her along. Not only is she smart, she has an incredible strength of character and is stronger than I ever realized.

  “You’re brilliant, Gem.” Somewhere in the east wing an old grandfather clock chimes and I nearly jump out of my skin. I count the loud clangs as they ring out and realize how much time has passed.

  Gem gives me a big toothy smile. “Why do you think they call me Gem?”

  The truth is I thought it was because she was vibrant and sparkly, full of energy and life, not because she had a brilliant mind. And if it wasn’t for her, I might never have fashioned a new plan and figured out my next step.

  Which is to get into the master’s office undetected, and get my hands on that master key.