How the fuck had they found out?
Only he, Sadie, and Erica used that meet up point, and they alternated each year. Logan wasn’t stupid enough to bring his phone along, and he very much doubted the others were either. That left the candidates themselves.
But why would any of them tip off the pack authorities? They all wanted to escape London.
It made no fucking sense.
Unless they’d done it accidentally. He’d known humans forget that shifter’s senses were far more acute than theirs. Cole had done it at the pub; maybe someone else had too.
Not that it fucking mattered now.
Logan had no way of finding out how much the authorities knew. He’d just have to turn up and hope none of his pack were there waiting for him.
AT THE SIGN for St Neot, Logan took the turning, heart in his mouth, and gaze darting all over for signs of trouble. Nothing looked out of the ordinary as they rode through the village, but Logan winced at the noise of his engine against the quiet.
A mile down the road at the turning, Logan came to a stop. Once he drove down there, he was pretty much sealing their fate.
“What is this place?” Cole pointed at the old batteredCarnglaze Cavernssign now overgrown with weeds.
“It’s an old slate mine. Used to be a tourist attraction before the shifter alliance took over.”
“What happened to it?”
From what Logan had been told, the family that owned it were run off their property by a local pack who’d then holed up in it for a few months before the shifters took power. “Shifters.” He didn’t need to say more; his people had done a lot of awful things in the fight for their freedom.
And afterwards too.
Swallowing his apprehension, Logan headed towards the caverns, grip like iron around the bike.
It all looked peaceful, much like the village had, but out here there was a wildness to it that called to Logan. The full moon was approaching, only two days away now, and Logan felt its gentle pull luring his wolf to the surface. Aaron was his usual partner for full moon runs, but now Logan was out here, possibly being hunted by his pack. Would he ever get to run with him again?
The thought was too painful to imagine, so he pushed it to one side and forced himself to focus fully on their surroundings. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted.
They went slow, maybe five miles an hour, creeping along the road to the cavern entrance. The old owner’s house had been left vacant and now had a desolate feel to it. The broken windows and overgrown garden made it look sad and abandoned.
Logan stopped the bike and they both got off.
Scenting the air didn’t help much, all he smelt was damp forest. From the look of the ground, they’d had rain recently, which might explain it.
Their arrival couldn’t have gone unnoticed; they’d made enough noise, but no one came out to greet them. Logan felt eyes on him though, someone was watching them.
He made a show of putting his hands in the air and turning around slowly, motioning for Cole to do the same. Footsteps sounded to his left, and Logan’s head snapped round as a woman appeared from out of the trees. A heavily pregnant woman.
A shifter.
She held a gun and had it trained on Logan. “The moon shines bright on this troubled darkness.” Her soft west-country accent reached them over the murmurs of the forest.
“And the wolves run free in the night,” Logan replied, watching the relief on her face as his words registered.
She walked over to them. Gun lowered, her whole being seemed a lot less menacing. “You’re late.”
“Ran into a spot of bother.”
“So I heard.” She was close enough now to hold out a hand, which Logan took. “You can call me Max.” Logan very much doubted that was her real name. “And I’m gonna call you Bill and Ted.” Yeah, definitely not. “Follow me.”
After hiding the bike, she led them to the entrance of the caverns, the old tourist information signs now half-rotted and faded, with the odd claw slash through them.
When they entered the old auditorium, Logan noticed Cole looking around with awe and couldn’t help leaning close to whisper. “They used to hold concerts here, and before that it was used as the rum store in the second world war.”
