Magic. The matebrand must have nudged the guard’s habits to draw him out here, and I had a feeling I knew precisely what it would take for that amorphous sentience to let the deviation drop.
Still, Orion and I tried to get out of our predicament the easy way. We froze, counting on the guard’s human vision missing us in the near total darkness.
No such luck. He tensed and began scouring the shadows with slow, measured sweeps of his gaze. Which was a problem since there was no reason for anyone to be lurking in this deserted side street at this predawn hour. As soon as the guard saw us, he’d forget about his smoke break, remember his job, and investigate.
Especially if the matebrand manipulated him yet again.
Sure enough, the tattoos on my forearm itched, displaying the faintest hint of a power that had been much more vibrant before Orion broke our mate connection weeks ago. Hairs came erect along my nape just as they’d done three other times at three very inopportune moments. The guard took the first small step in our direction…
…And I gave in to the matebrand’s insistence. I giggled, swaying as if I was drunk before grabbing onto Orion’s arm for support. In response, the ink beneath my fingers subtly rearranged itself to accentuate the hardness of his muscles. My own ink tingled in reaction, the former itch transitioning to a yearning.
I should allow the tattoos on my skin to reconnect with those on Orion’s. We could be matebranded again. It would be so easy to give in to the inevitable…
Not happening. Not when reconnection meant the matebrand would once again assume control over our lives.
Gritting my teeth, I ruthlessly severed the tendril of my own craving, listening rather than watching as the guard’s boots scuffed fractionally closer. He was still suspicious, which meant…
“Ready for another round of enforced proximity?” Orion’s rumbled words carried the slightest edge of a purr. As he spoke, he swiveled us both around until the irregular bumps of a parking meter bit into my hip. His broad back shielded us from view while also hiding the fact that we weren’t actually pressed front to front the way the matebrand wanted.
I froze, imagining angling my body just the slightest bit to wipe away the unwanted empty space between us. My cheeks heated as I breathed in the cactus-flower aroma wafting off Orion in waves. Flower petals seemed to brush my tongue as I murmured, “You’ve been doing your homework. Getting caught up on all the romance tropes?”
Then I lost track of words as his hand rose to cup the air around my cheek. From the guard’s perspective, it would look like a caress. It felt like a caress, air currents providing the contact Orion wouldn’t.
I shivered, forgetting our reasons for keeping our distance, wishing Orion wasn’t so meticulous about granting me personal space. He didn’t close that final centimeter between us however. Because he refused to give the matebrand leverage until and unless I overtly told him I was ready to take that step.
I wasn’t ready. Still, it was hard not to focus on the sweet parts of our lost connection with Orion’s skin so close to my skin. Despite every rational reason to keep my distance, I swayed in closer, drawn by the flutter of Orion’s breath against my lips as he replied to a question I’d forgotten asking.
“My sister gave me half a dozen bodice rippers,” he rumbled. “That hotel being almost entirely full last week now makes so much more sense.”
I named the trope absently while letting my head drift sideways. “Just one room. A classic for a reason.”
In lieu of further words, his hand feathered down to trace the curve of my neck, still keeping a buffer of air between us yet managing to stroke my nerve endings regardless. The patterns he wove above my skin might have been tattooed there if we’d let the matebrand continue expanding across our bodies. The tingle of awareness that spun through me, though, had nothing to do with the matebrand and everything to do with the undeniable chemistry between Orion and myself.
Chemistry so sublime I didn’t realize the guard was gone until retreating footsteps were cut off by the thunk of a metal door shutting. Only then did Orion mutter something I couldn’t quite make out before stepping back and taking the cactus-flower aroma with him.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked at a more audible register.
For a split second, I thought he meant denying the matebrand’s formation. For a split second, I considered saying no.
Then I remembered what we’d come here for. “I’m sure that if we don’t break in, Celeste will do it herself.” I answered, my voice huskier than it should have been.
Strong and solid as always, Orion nodded. “Alright then. Back to work.”
Ever since my adopted sister tore apart her father’s study and found out about her shifter heritage, she’d searched for confirmation of her guess that other werewolves were being similarly experimented upon. To that end, she’d returned to Julius’s mansion to gather evidence while I’d done the same as best I could from the outside.
Her involvement had driven me crazy. Celeste couldn’t shift the way I could. She was a kindergarten teacher, for crying out loud. She didn’t need to put herself in harm’s way by returning to the place where we’d both been raised as unwitting lab animals.
“I can do more where I’m at,” Celeste had rebutted when I’d tried to suggest she move in with either Orion’s pack or my Aunt Vega’s. “You live your life and I’ll live mine.”
Her response had hurt and I wasn’t so sure she hadn’t meant it to. The memory of my past actions sat like a wall between us, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say my goal here tonight was as much to remove that wall as it was to save shifter kids I wasn’t even sure existed.
As if he felt my inner turmoil down our non-existent mate bond, Orion’s hand reached toward mine then retreated without touching. Most likely, he smelled my roiling emotions. Which was a good reminder that I needed to get my head on straight.
So I pushed away thoughts of sisters and mate bonds and I skimmed my gaze across the facility that we’d determined was the most likely possibility for caging experimental werewolves. The top floors were rented out to various businesses for office space while an extensive basement had been soundproofed then never put to any obvious use. And yet, a paper trail suggested food was delivered here at regular intervals. Council members came and went occasionally. The security levels were considerably higher than for any other building on the block.
There was only one way to find out whether we were right about what was inside.
“Ready?” I asked Orion.
“Ready,” he answered. Then he guarded my back as I padded down rough concrete steps to a door far less modern than the one the guard had come out of. This was our saving grace—the Council had apparently decided on stealth over effectiveness. Thirty seconds with my lock picks and the door swung open into pitch dark.
The space was dark but not devoid of sensation. A dank, musty tang washed over us as Orion and I padded inside. Then the door to the street thudded shut behind our backs.
I reached for my flashlight. But before I could flick it on, an overhead light flared, brilliantly illuminating our surroundings. At which point, I discovered our first mistake.
I’d assumed if that outer door was easy to get through, we were home free. But the Council left nothing to chance.
Instead, we appeared to be stuck inside a vestibule with the only viable options being retreat or passing through a seemingly impenetrable inner door. There was no obvious lock, no keypad even. Just biometric scanners that would currently be powered off—I hoped—and the possibility of caged werewolf children on the other side.
For the first time, I let myself imagine what those caged children might be like. Had they been brought up to believe their lupine halves were distasteful, twisted just like I’d been into reviling the very essence of their beings? Or perhaps they’d been genetically manipulated like Celeste and had never managed a single shift.
I only realized I was shivering when Orion spoke my name. “Elspeth?” His voice was more vibration than sound.
“I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my volume just as quiet as his had been. “Call it in.”
His werewolf senses meant he could taste the bitterness in the air, so it was no wonder Orion growled softly. Still, he didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled out his phone and typed in a request to his hacker contact.
One moment later, the lights went out. Pitch darkness, silence…then the distant hum of a generator springing to life.
