Foster, Sophie, and I—along with two other lycans—start to jog. Logan volunteered to join along with Maria, a hunter, for this retrieval. We’re forced to keep it small because of the limited number of potions I have that dull our presence. Arlo showed us a map on his phone where he believes the entrance to the underground tunnels are.
Most Roman aqueducts were built high up in bridge-type structures, but Morbal built an underground tunnel system for his waterways. If it weren’t for Arlo, we’d never know these existed. The problem now is to find the right path that will lead us to Ellie.
When we get to the area, we spread out and search. I rummage through bushes, lift fallen tree limbs, but don’t find anything. Foster barks to my right. My head jerks up. He’s a few yards away and pawing at the ground.
Using my speed, I reach him first and kneel. He steps away, revealing a square drain grate. I swipe the leaves and twigs away from it. Its bars are rusted and thick with grime and algae. The spaces between the bars are small, and my fingers slide against the filth as I grip it. I pull up, using my legs for leverage, but it doesn’t budge an inch.
I mutter a curse. “You’re gonna have to shift back to help me,” I say to Foster before calling the others over.
Foster, Logan, and I grunt as we lift the grate together. It thumps when we toss it aside onto the ground.
“Let me go first and scout,” Sophie says, and when I give the okay, she jumps down. A splash is the only indication that she reached the bottom.
“Clear,” Sophie calls up quietly, just loud enough for our ears to pick up.
I nod at Logan to go down next, and I scan the area.
Once Foster and Maria have jumped down, I reach for the grate, but my hand clamps up, another tremor moving through my body.
Ellie’s in pain.
It’s been happening on and off since she’s been taken. I can sense her in the mansion but can’t pinpoint her location. Instead, I’ve been trying to send her strength through the bond, but something’s blocking my connection to her.
When it passes, I grab onto the grate and strain against its weight as I drag it partly over the opening.
My hope is that it covers the hole enough for it not to be so noticeable if Morbal has patrols that come out here.
Before joining them, I bite my pinky and mark it with my blood.
My boots make a small splash when I hit the bottom. Examining above us, it appears we just came through one of the tunnel’s shafts. The tunnel itself is made completely out of stone and concrete. It’s dark and damp, but the square-like shape allows more space for us to stand side by side.
In hushed tones, I give directions. “Sophie, I want you to lead. Foster, I’d like you to shift and stay by her side.” I turn to the other two. “Is either of you willing to shift and take up the rear?”
Logan offers, but doesn’t bother removing his clothes before shifting. The rest of us take our positions and move.
Sophie, with Foster by her side, leads us slowly through the tunnel. Our footsteps make ripples in the water, but the only noise is the draft through overhead shafts and drops of water. Air currents change, bringing different scents with each whiff.
It’s not long before we come upon our first intersection that breaks off into three different paths.
Everyone stops when Sophie holds up her hand. She sniffs the air and tilts her head. Sophie is one of the best hunters in the pack. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to find Ellie. It also helps that her special ability is enhanced smell.
After a few moments, she drops her hand and chooses the far-right tunnel.
We proceed in this manner, stopping and turning when she indicates, until the air grows cold.
Sophie pauses and looks back at me. I step closer. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“It’s strange. I’m following where her scent is strongest but when we move on to the next tunnel or the air changes, it’s coming from the complete opposite direction.”
Dread sinks in. How is that possible? Is it because of how elaborate the tunnel system is? We haven’t come across any signs that we’re near the mansion yet.
I curse myself. I shouldn’t have allowed us to enter blind. Since Ellie’s been taken, I haven’t been able to think straight, but I’ll find another way. We don’t have time to wander the tunnels for hours.
“Are you able to lead us back?” I ask.
She closes her eyes and sniffs the air, her face scrunching up in concentration.
“Maybe,” she finally answers after a while, reopening her eyes. “I think I need a refresher.”
I nod and bite my pinky again. I hold it up to her as she leans forward and smells my blood before the cut closes again.
“The scent is faint, but I think I got it,” she says and straightens. She strides past me, back the way we came.
“Foster, let Russell know we’re heading back.”
He nods.
After a few turns, Sophie hesitates. We’ve reached a section that’s split off into two different directions. She looks right to left and back.
“What is it, Sophie?” I ask.
“Your scent is coming from both directions.”
My brows scrunch together. That can’t be right. I examine the area. Nothing looks familiar. Something’s wrong. If we were heading back in the right direction, the tunnels would become more familiar, not less. Guilt eats at me.
“Is there a direction it’s stronger?” I ask.
Sophie sniffs the air again. “It smells stronger to our left.”
I nod. “Then let’s try that path.” I pray it’s the correct one.
After ten minutes, a breeze sweeps over us, bringing a chill that seeps deep into my bones. My vision darkens even with my ability to see in the dark. The only sound is our feet shuffling through the thin layer of water.
“We’re almost there,” Sophie whispers.
The tunnel suddenly opens up, the chill stronger. We freeze in our steps as sets of glowing red eyes start popping into existence.
There’s a hissing that grows the longer we stand here. My heart is in my throat as I inch our group back, trying to keep our movements as small as possible.
Slowly peeking behind us, I stop as more glowing eyes find their way around us.
Flames burst from torches behind the glowing eyes, lighting up those surrounding us.
It seems we’ve accidentally found our way to an underground coven.
A stryx coven.
The grate with my blood on it is in the grasp of a stryx.
Each and every one of them has their fangs out, hissing and growling at us. Their eyes glow red, and their nails elongate into black sharp points. They’re in beast form.
Skulls and bones cover the walls. Multiple archways are spread out around the room, leading to other areas full of skeletons.
We’re in a catacomb.
The underground home of the dead. Fitting for the vampires in stories, but not so much for the living. Why are they down here? Are they involved with Morbal?
Growls erupt from my group as the stryxes close in, our backs to each other. My claws and canines are out, preparing for an attack.
Suddenly the hissing stops and the stryxes’ aggressive stances begin to straighten. They move, parting like the Red Sea for a single person.
A woman.
Her black dress flows around her as she steps toward us. Her long dark-brown hair folded into a braid and over her shoulder.
I’m on high alert. Who is she, and why is every single stryx listening to her?
Sophie aims her gun on the woman. But we both know it’s pointless against stryxes in their beast forms.
On edge, I step forward in front of my group, blocking the woman from them. I hold back a growl but show my canines.
She stops at the edge of her group of stryxes. She looks me dead in the eye as a grin forms on her face with fangs peeking out.
“It appears we have guests.”
“Well, who should we tas
te first?” the woman asks as she glides around us.
A few of the stryxes snicker and one responds, “The women are always the tastiest.”
The woman sneers, her blood-red eyes snapping to the male stryx. “I already know your opinion, Gaius.”
She turns back to the group, near the end, close enough that when she reaches out, she brushes her hand against the fur of Logan’s golden tail.
A smile appears on her face when he tucks his tail in and growls.
“Come out and play, little wolf. I promise I won’t bite.” Her fangs stick out when she grins. “At least not too hard.”
“Come on, Octavia, let us play too,” a female stryx whines.
Logan’s head pops up.
The woman, Octavia, whirls around on the female stryx. “What did you just say?” The stryx hunches her shoulders as Octavia strides to her.
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” she says in a small voice.
“How many chances have I given you already?”
“Three,” she mutters.
“Three too many. You’ll be someone’s snack tonight.” She hums, tapping her cheek with a surprisingly blunt nail. “I’m thinking Gaius.” Gaius grins as the girl’s eyes widen in horror. “Of course, he’s not allowed to drain you, but…”
“It’ll be painful!”
Octavia lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe it’ll teach you to not be so impatient.” She spins around and eyes us.
“Octavia”—a male stryx steps forward—“give Zoe another chance.”
Her eyes flare with anger and she whirls around, her dress fanning around her. “It seems everyone needs a lesson today. These lycans are mine now.”
Hissing and yelling erupts.
“Silence,” she yells, a wave of power echoing it, and the room goes quiet. With the amount of magic flowing through her demand, she’s either high up or has a large amount of essence in her blood. “You know my conditions. They may be food, but they are still outsiders. Two of them are wolves and could easily relay anything they wish right now. I’m not sure why I’m needing to explain that.” She glares at everyone before turning to a group in the corner. “Take them to my room.”
Four stryxes step forward. Two males and two females.
“You’re going to let the half-blood have a taste?” Zoe says, curling her lip in disgust. One of the girls in the group with short, light-brown hair flinches.
Octavia stiffens, her gaze firmly remaining on the group. “Gaius. Drain her. Now,” she commands, her voice quiet but deadly.
Gaius perks up and eagerly strides toward Zoe.
A deathly silence takes over the room. Zoe spins around to run, but other stryxes block her from escaping. The man who tried to help her earlier is now averting his gaze to the side. Zoe cries out when Gaius reaches her. He opens his mouth, his fangs on full display, and roughly bites into her. She claws at him as he keeps his teeth embedded into her, drinking her blood.
A growl starts in the back of my throat. What is this? Even Zac wasn’t this bad. Is this how stryx covens are run? Disobey and you’ll be drained?
“Get them out of here,” Octavia yells at the group.
They step into action and stride over to us. The burly man grabs Sophie.
“We’ll go willingly,” I say with a snarl.
He raises his hands in surrender, then gestures for us to move forward.
I scan the room full of stryxes, their beast forms are on full display despite their non-aggressive stances. My eyes land on Foster beside me in his wolf form as we share a look. We have no chance against this horde.
We walk across the room through the stryxes. We’re led out of the large room and down multiple hallways. The intricate layout is just like the tunnel system, but the stryxes appear to know where they’re going.
They take us into a room full of an assortment of old furniture: chairs, armoires, bookshelves, and couches.
Two of the stryxes, the burly one and the one Zoe called half-blood, stay and lock the doors while the other two stand just outside the room.
We each stand on high alert. I survey Sophie and Foster, both sending daggers with their eyes at the guards. Logan in wolf form examines the furniture, intrigued. And Maria surveys the room. None of us dare talk with stryxes near. Even if none were in the room, they’d still be able to hear us.
I’m not sure what they have planned for us. I’m supposed to be the alpha, yet I haven’t a clue what to do to get us out of this situation.
I screwed up.
After a moment, there’s a knock on the door. Burly unlocks and opens it. Octavia strides in as the doors close behind her. She passes us, making her way to a throne-like chair.
Before sitting, she whirls around and holds up a finger. “I want to make one thing clear. Just because they listen to me does not mean they won’t betray me.”
I blink. What is the point in telling me that? I’m not surprised after the show she just put on.
With a sigh, she collapses on one of the larger throne-like chairs. “Now that that’s out of the way. Explain who you are and why I should keep you alive before one of the little bastards tells Morbal. And be truthful, I can tell when you’re lying.”
She quirks a brow when my entire body goes rigid.
“Well? What were you doing in the tunnels? Actually—” Her eyes turn to Foster and Logan. “They need to shift back, or I’ll have you all drained.”
I meet the gazes of both Foster and Logan and nod. They both shift back in nothing but their boxers.
“Tav—Octavia.” The half-blood with short, light-brown hair steps forward. She glances at us as she passes, her eyes catching on Logan. She leans down, whispering in Octavia’s ear.
Using my senses, I hear her say to Octavia, “They’re looking for the alpha’s mate.”
A growl leaves before I can stop it.
“Thank you, Ariya.” Octavia’s eyes land on me. “I assume you’re the alpha.”
I glance at the two not in my pack, then nod.
“And where is your mate?”
Deciding there’s no point in lying, I say, “Morbal took her.”
She gives me a slow nod. “It seems we have a common enemy then. I’ve always liked the saying, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’.” She waves her hand in the air, the band on her wrist catching the light of the fire. “Is that what you’re doing in the tunnels? Trying to get into his self-proclaimed castle to find your mate?”
“Yes.”
Logan steps forward. “Why is a daughter of the Elite under Morbal’s self-proclaimed castle?”
My head snaps to Logan, Octavia’s blood-red eyes on him. “What gave it away?”
“The eyes, then your name confirmed it,” Logan says. I did find it was strange that her red eyes weren’t glowing. Does that mean that’s her natural eye color?
“And have you told anyone, wolf?”
He stands up taller. “What if I did?”
“Who did you tell?”
“Head alpha Wagner.”
She curses.
Ariya looks at Octavia in horror. “Tav.”
“I know,” she grinds out and stands. “And is he on his way?” Power lines her voice.
Logan eyes them both with confusion. “Your powers don’t work on me.”
She steps forward, her hands in fists. “Just answer the question.”
“Are you in danger?” Sophie speaks up.
“My—Arlo wouldn’t harm them,” Logan says.
“I know,” Sophie says, turning briefly to Logan, “but there must be a different reason.”
But when we turn our attention back to them, they’re frozen in place.
“What’s his name?” Octavia asks.
Sophie hesitates, looking at each of us before answering, “Arlo Wagner.”
“Not Linus Wagner.”
“No, that was my great-grandfather. He passed away years ago.”
Octavia shares a look with Ariya. “Are you sure?�
�
Sophie straightens her shoulders. “Yes.”
This is getting ridiculous and annoying. I don’t have time for this. I need to find Ellie. A growl leaves me. “Explain.” Power laces at my command.
Octavia’s sharp red gaze turns onto me. “You’re not in control here, alpha.” Her powers radiate out of her.
Ariya touches Octavia’s arm. “I don’t think they’re our enemies.”
Octavia is wound tight as she scans us and lets out a sigh and nods. “I suppose you’re right.” She slumps back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll help you with finding your mate, if you help me.”
Marcus is here, just like we expected. But seeing him makes it real. And so much worse. It means we were right that he and Morbal are working together. There’s no doubt about it now.
He stops in front of the cell with two bulky men. Guards, maybe?
One of the guards unlocks the cell before they enter. A malicious grin grows on Marcus’ face when he spots me. “Long time no see, huh, Eleanor?”
I press myself against the back wall as they enter. One comes to me and roughly grabs my arms. I cry out when he takes me by the wrists and puts shackles on them just below the bands.
The other guard focuses on Wylla while Marcus strides to me. My guard keeps a hold of me as Marcus kneels in front of me. He lifts a clammy hand and cups my face. I try to turn away, but he grips my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eager eyes.
I cringe away as he leans in close, his rotten scent worse when he talks. “We’re going to have so much fun with you, my little Eleanor.”
A tremor rolls through my body. I try to focus on my essence, but it’s silent inside. There’s no warmth left. Just a chilly, dead emptiness. I fight back tears at how helpless I am.
This must be what Wylla meant by controlling us.
“What do you want with me?” I say, sounding stronger than I feel.
He releases me and stands, towering over me. “Your blood, of course. You’re a descendant of the Elite. Isn’t that right, Addison?” He grins, turning his head over to her, still chained to the wall.
Saving Ellie (Lycans Book 1) Page 36