by Mac Flynn
Fuller smirked and his hands latched onto a few plastic explosives that sat around him. “You won’t live to find out.” Fuller shoved one of the plastic explosives into Brier’s face, who stumbled back in fear of an explosion. Fuller raced over to a box of lighters, caught one up in his clawed hand and lit the manual fuse. The mad werewolf stood on his hind legs with the explosive grasped in his hand. “You’ll go down with your precious dungeon, Brier,” Fuller sneered.
I sure as hell wasn’t going down with anyone’s dungeon, so I dropped down and grabbed the explosive from his hand. He cried out in fury, but I was already halfway down the tunnel that led toward the woods. The fuse fizzled and smoldered closer to the explosive mechanism as I raced as fast as my legs could take me. I had some help from my werewolf self as my body transformed and I stuck the explosive in my mouth to sprint along the uneven, rock-strewn ground on all fours.
I wasn’t any good at judging distances, but by the faint smells of woods I figured I was beneath the forest and chucked the explosive as far ahead of me as I could throw. It hit a nearby wall and I spun around only to slip on my own clawed feet. I hit the hard ground with a yelp and heard the faint hiss behind me as it counted down my doom. My life flashed before me eyes like one long commercial for What Not to Wear.
My number wasn’t called in heaven, though, as a werewolf sprinted out of the darkness in front of me and picked me up with one arm. They loped down the safe path just as the explosive went off behind us. The single plastic brick wasn’t powerful, but the tunnel wasn’t strong. The explosion destroyed the integrity of the tunnel and behind us the ceiling collapsed. We made it to the chamber just before the path at our rear fell in on itself. My hero jumped into the center of the chamber and cloud of dust blew over us from the fallen tunnel.
I coughed and looked up into a pair of unfamiliar eyes. My hero wasn’t Luke, who I expected, but a slightly smaller werewolf with a familiar scowl to his expression. I sniffed his scent and thought I detected farm dirt stuck on it. “Baker?” I guessed in my guttural voice.
“Get up and follow me,” he growled back. Yep, it was Baker.
He sprinted down the tunnel toward the dungeon, but I paused and looked for the former combatants. All that remained of Brier and Fuller were tufts of fur and splotches of blood. I raced after Baker and shot into the dungeon where I saw a welcomed sight. The whole gang of non-scented people sat on the ground fully human with their backs together and surrounded by Burnbaum’s men, most of whom were still transformed into werewolves. Upstairs I heard countless feet running and people yelling in fright. The explosion hadn’t gone unnoticed by the residents of Sanctuary.
Luke stood close by in the tattered remains of his clothes with Stacy by his side, and when he spotted me his eyes widened in horror. He hurried over and knelt down in front of me. “What are you doing here?” he harshly scolded me.
“Nice to see you, too,” I growled in my wolf voice.
He managed a small, worried smile as he looked over my scuffed, furry form. “Are you all right?” he asked me.
I nodded. “A little itchy, but okay,” I growled.
Luke smiled, but our happy reunion was interrupted by Brier. The man was human again and stood in the torn remains of his clothing with extra wounds from the brawl with Fuller, who I saw in the group of captives. “Mind telling me the full story now?” Brier requested of me.
“I’d like to know, also,” Baker spoke up.
Luke turned to him with a raised brow. “I’m curious to know how you got down here,” he wondered.
“I saw this she-wolf drag Brier to the foyer and followed her down here,” Baker explained to us. “I noticed the hole in the wall and investigated it.”
“He defused the explosives she missed and went for her while I carried my prey back to the dungeon,” Brier finished for him. “Now tell us what happened,” he ordered.
“These men intended to blow up specific sections of Sanctuary and blame it on the Lone Wolf group,” Luke spoke up. He walked over to a pile of empty explosive boxes and pulled out the missing green armbands. “You remember these were stolen from the Lone Wolf members, and they were going to use the scent to implicate Burnbaum and the others in the explosion while their part in the plot would remain undetected by our senses.”
Burnbaum himself appeared from the far side of the dungeon where I noticed another secret doorway. I was relieved to see Mr. Stewart at his side. “They set explosives in their own section to throw off suspicion from them,” he informed us.
Brier scowled, strode over to the captives, knelt in front of Fuller and roughly grabbed the man’s chin. He jerked Fuller’s head up so they looked into each other’s eyes. “Is this true?” Fuller spat in the man’s face and Brier knocked him upside the head.
Fuller turned back to him with a stream of blood trickling down the side of his face, but there was that sneer of defiance on his lips. “Yer not going to make us talk,” he refused.
“I just did, but you didn’t say anything that would help you get out of this mess,” Brier shot back. He turned to his officers. “We’ll take them to the High Lord and get them to talk,” he told them.
At that moment I heard a strange noise on the stairs to my right. Luke also heard it, and we both turned our heads in time to see a small metallic ball bounce into the dungeon. Luke’s eyes widened and he dove on top of me. “Duck!” he yelled to everyone else, but it was too late. The metallic ball sprang open and blinded the onlookers with a flash of light. Those unaffected, including us, were hit with a blast of a white smoke with an overwhelming scent. The smoke filled the room at the same time its smell invaded my nose and paralyzed my body. “Garlic!” Luke cried out. There were cries of fear and shouts from captives and heroes alike, but nobody could see, and those who could see couldn’t move.
I struggled to move but my body wouldn’t obey. Luke was more prepared and had part of his clothes wrapped around his lower face. I heard footsteps step lightly along the stone floor, and felt Luke stand when they came near. There was a brief scuffle before Luke fell by my side. In the dim air I could see he was alive, but unconscious. Then the footsteps moved past us further down the dungeon corridor. I heard faint sounds like a dart gun and there were cries of fear, then nothing. The footsteps retreated, and the smoke cleared enough to reveal that our captives all had a bullet fired into their heads, and nobody needed to ask if it was silver because they were all dead. Victory was snatched from us and replaced with a deadly defeat.
27
Everyone staggered to their feet and I crawled over to Luke’s side. There was an egg-bruise growing on his forehead where he’d been struck. I nudged him with my snout and he stirred a moment before his eyes fluttered open. They widened and he jumped up to survey the horrible scene as everyone else arose to the same picture. “Damn it!” he swore.
“This isn’t good,” Stacy muttered as she held her head in one hand. I felt her pain. The smell of the strong garlic left a lasting impression in the sinus cavities and head.
“What happened here? Who did this?” Burnbaum exclaimed as he whipped his head around. Nobody replied because nobody knew the answer, or rather not the specific answer.
“We don’t know who tossed that bomb, but we know who told him to do it,” Luke spoke up.
“Lance,” Stacy stated rather than asked.
“That’s a tough accusation,” Brier spoke up.
Luke turned to him with a scowl. “It’s more than an accusation, it’s the truth,” he insisted.
Brier nodded at the dead men. “How are you going to prove a lord like Lance is connected to this plot without their confessions?” he countered.
“We have the stolen armbands and their lack of scent,” Luke pointed out.
I sniffed the air and wrinkled my nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Death,” Brier replied. “Their smell is returning with their deaths.”
Luke frowned and strode over to the bodies. He sniffed and pul
led back with a look of disgust on his face. “Whatever unholy thing they used to mask their scent must die with them.”
“Along with your evidence,” Brier reiterated.
“Maybe, but I’ll see if I can convince my father,” Stacy spoke up. She crossed her arms and smirked. “He hasn’t failed me yet.”
“First we tend to our allies,” Luke insisted. He was right. Some of Burnbaum’s werewolves looked in pretty bad shape, I was still stuck in my wolf form, and the whole dungeon still smelled like a pizza parlor. “We should get them all upstairs out of this smell.”
Stacy nodded at the bodies. “What do we do about them?” she asked us.
“I’ll fetch my men to protect them and make sure all the explosives are destroyed,” Brier offered. He hurried up the dungeon steps to bring his men.
“My men will manage each other,” Burnbaum assured us. The less wounded hauled the more gravely injured up the dungeon steps. I had my doubts whether I could fit up those things, and so did Luke. That, and with my erratic change my clothes were in worse shape than anyone else’s.
He glanced between the stairs and me. “This may be easier if you change down here. Are you able to?” he wondered.
I shrugged with my furry shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried yet and I don’t think I’d be dressed for the occasion,” I quipped. Luke glanced around and snatched a blanket from inside one of the cells. It was dirty, disgusting, and the only option I had. He wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and stepped back.
“Now focus on your human form-”
“-as though I’m looking in a mirror. I know, I know.” I shut my eyes and brought up my mirror image. Even with the horrid garlic smell distracting me transforming my entire body was a lot easier than the hand as the general areas shifted back to my human self. I quickly wrapped the filthy blanket around my nakedness and sheepishly smiled at everyone. “Next time we face up against terrorists I’ll remember to wear some more loose-fitting clothing.”
Luke chuckled. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen for a long while, but what the hell do you think you’re doing here? I told you to stay with Mrs. Stewart,” he scolded.
I scowled at him. “And I said I wasn’t going to stay there. If you were going to get yourself blown up then I was going to blow to smithereens with you.” I whipped my head around to the group.
“And speaking of my family, I need to go to them and tell them I’m safe,” Mr. Stewart spoke up.
Luke turned to him and nodded his assent. Stewart dashed up the stairs and dodged Brier coming down with his men. Many of them grimaced at the heavy scent of garlic and death that hung in the air like an old curtain in a disused house. Brier gestured to the secret openings to the left of the stairs and down past the dungeon cells. “The explosives are in there, and see what you can find on these bodies,” he ordered them.
They spread out and Brier turned to us. “It’s a madhouse up there, but we should get you out of here before the garlic weakens you further,” he advised us.
Luke nodded, lifted me into his arms, and carried me up the stairs with Stacy behind and Brier in front of us. He strode to the foyer and found people running to and fro with luggage in their hands and children crying beside them. The explosion that rocked the underground tunnels had made Sanctuary a mess of panicked and frightened werewolves. The tunnel collapse left a gaping trench just to the right of the massive building, and some of the trees crashed down on the roof and the once-beautiful forest path. Nobody knew what had caused the earthquake, but Lance’s rumor of terrorists spread like wildfire on their lips and many of the guests shot out the front doors for the train station.
Burnbaum returned from the east wing and joined us in watching the madness. “It is like this in all Sanctuary,” he told us as Luke set me down on the floor. I slunk behind him to avoid the many eyes on my plain wardrobe.
Protector Brier frowned and put two fingers in his lips. He blew, and the whistle that came forth was loud and piercing. It pierced the panic in the foyer and everyone stopped in their tracks. “Calm down. There’s nothing to worry about,” he barked over the silence.
Sheriff Brier with Lance at his side pushed through the crowd and stood before us in front of the dungeon doors. “What the hell’s going on here? Where’s all the commotion coming from?” Sheriff Brier demanded to know.
“You’ll know with the rest of them, but right now I want everyone to get back to their rooms. There’s no danger here,” the younger Brier insisted.
Lance stepped forward with a concerned expression on his face, though I noticed his eyes flickered over to me. I shuddered at the heated look in those blue eyes and pulled the blanket closer to me. “What’s happened, Protector?” Lance asked Protector Brier.
Brier scowled at him. Much as he knew we couldn’t positively prove Lance did the deed, that didn’t mean Brier didn’t believe it. “You’ll know as soon as I can speak with the High Lord, now I need you to get to your rooms, all of you.” The panicked citizen werewolves, cowed by Brier’s imperious demand, shuffled back into the halls. Brier turned to a few officers who followed us up the stairs. “Get some order in the halls and keep watch on that door,” he ordered them, pointing at the dungeon. “I don’t want any more trouble than we already got.” They nodded in assent and scattered to the many corners of Sanctuary to regain order.
Only Sheriff Brier and Lance disobeyed the order. “As a lord I demand to know what’s happened. What caused the explosion and what’s down there?” Lance questioned us.
“If you want to know you’re going to have to follow us,” Protector Brier replied. Brier’s plans changed when Stevens strode out of one of the western halls with a fretful Farber at his side.
Stevens looked us over, particularly my fashionable wardrobe. I scowled at him and he quickly looked to his lead Protector. “What is the meaning of this noise, and where have you been?” Stevens growled at Brier.
Brier bowed his head. “There’s been a conspiracy here, sir, that we must discuss in private.”
Stevens pursed his lips together, but nodded and gestured for us to follow him. He led us back down the hall from which he’d come and I saw that the front part of the west wing was filled with the administrative offices of the High Lord. We were guided to a wooden door engraved with wolves and Stevens invited us into the large office behind that door. There were filing cabinets to the left and a large wooden desk in the center rear of the room. Stevens seated himself behind the desk in the uncomfortable-looking wooden chair with thick arms and a high back.
Lance and Farber stood away from our little group with Brier between us. I was beside Luke with Stacy, Alistair, and Burnbaum at our backs. Stevens cleared his throat and stared at all of us with a severe expression. “Now tell me everything that’s happened, and leave out no details.”
Luke stepped forward as our representative. “We discovered a plot to destroy parts of Sanctuary with explosives planted in the underground tunnels that run beneath the structure, and the Lone Wolf Party would be framed for the terrorism,” he informed Stevens. “We only just stopped the group from carrying out their terrible intention in the dungeons, and the explosion you heard was from their last desperate attempt to kill hundreds of us.”
The man’s eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair. His soft, trembling voice emphasized his shock. “You’re quite sure about this?”
“Positive,” Luke firmly replied.
Stevens shook of his shock and his face tightened into a severe expression. “You mentioned who you don’t believe intended to do this horrible act, but who do you suspect?”
Luke turned his eyes on Lance, who looked back at him with a quizzically curious expression. “I believe it was orchestrated by the Alpha Party at the bidding of its leader, Lance Connor,” he accused.
Lance feigned outrage, and Stevens’ mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious!” Stevens blubbered.
“I’m deadly serious,” Luke insisted.
&
nbsp; “An interesting theory, but what proof do you have?” Lance asked him.
“We have the bodies of your confederates in the dungeon. They’ll at least merit an investigation into your involvement,” Luke told him.
The corners of Lance’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. “Really? We should go see these-” Lance’s suggestion was interrupted by the arrival of one of the Protectors. The man was out of breath and looked wildly around the room until he spotted his chief.
Brier whipped around and glared at his lieutenant. “What is it?” he asked the man.
“They’re gone! Everything’s gone!” the officer exclaimed.
“What’s gone?” Luke spoke up.
The man turned to him with his wild look. “The bodies and the explosives! I don’t know how, but they’re gone!”
“I left explicit orders for the door to be guarded,” Brier reminded his officer.
The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but the garlic was too overwhelming so we retreated up the stairs. A few minutes later we heard noise inside the dungeon and went down to inspect the bodies only to find they were gone, and so are the explosives.”
Luke turned to Alistair. “Go see,” he commanded him.” Alistair bowed and strode out the door. The officer glanced at Alistair and then to Brier, who scowled and nodded to where Alistair left.
“Follow him,” Brier ordered him. The man nervously bowed his head and hurried to catch up to Alistair.
Lance silently watched the exchange. After Alistair left he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at our group. “It seems your proof has walked away, leaving you with only baseless accusations and slander,” he quipped.
Luke growled and strode toward him, but Brier stepped between the pair. “None of that. It’ll just make things worse for you,” Brier advised.