Hunt nodded grimly. “Agreed. So what do we know about the layout?”
I moved to the wall where the tools hung, examining what we had to work with. A hammer. Some wrenches. A saw that looked rusty but functional. “The main cabin is next to us. Front door faces east. I saw at least six windows on my way in, maybe more. Wraparound porch means multiple entry points.”
“There’s a back door too,” Hunt added. “I saw them bring in supplies through it earlier. And there’s a cellar entrance on the north side. They use it for storage.”
“How many people?”
“Mary, Mira, Lucio. That’s it as far as I can tell. No other guards. They’ve been relying on isolation and secrecy rather than numbers.”
I filed that away. Three against two, with both babies as hostages. Not great odds, but not impossible either.
“The cellar entrance might be our best bet,” I said, thinking out loud. “If we can get out of here after dark, circle around to the north side, get into the cellar without being noticed-”
“We’d still need to get from the cellar to wherever they’re keeping the babies without alerting anyone,” Hunt pointed out.
“One problem at a time.” I tested one of the wrenches, feeling its weight. “First we need to figure out how to get this door open.”
We were in the middle of examining the lock mechanism when the garage door opened again.
Mary walked in, hauling a large bucket.
A bucket of mud.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the floor.
I didn’t move. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t want you,” she said, her voice dripping with bitterness and resentment. “But I suppose Lucio is right. I can make you mine so thoroughly, your precious Luna will be forgotten.”
She laughed, and there was something unhinged in the sound. Something fractured and dangerous.
I saw it then, in the wild gleam of her eyes, in the erratic energy of her movements. Mary wasn’t just angry. She was insane. Whatever sanity she’d once possessed had crumbled under the weight of her obsession, her hatred, her desperate need for revenge.
Before I could react, she crossed the space between us and dropped onto my lap, straddling me, the bucket of mud beside her.
My wolf snarled at the unwanted contact, rage and disgust flooding through me. Her hands were cold and wet as she scooped mud from the bucket and started spreading it across my chest, my arms, my face.
I tensed, every muscle in my body screaming at me to throw her off, to shift, to attack. But I forced myself to stay still. Forced myself to endure. The babies were still in that cabin, and attacking Mary now would accomplish nothing except getting me drugged and chained. I needed to be smart, not impulsive.
“This won’t work,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Not even tied up and kidnapped will I ever be yours.”
Mary’s hands paused on my chest. She looked up at me, her eyes glittering with a mix of madness and determination.
“We’ll see,” she said softly.
And then she went back to spreading mud across my skin, humming softly to herself, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
30
— • —
Lina
“Help! Somebody help us!”
My voice tore through the silence of the house, desperate and shaking. I was still on my knees beside Marcus, my hands bound in front of me with that damn zip tie, completely useless. Knox was gone. Blake was gone. And his father was bleeding out on the floor in front of me, the pool of red spreading wider with every second that passed.
I heard the thunder of footsteps on the stairs, guards responding to my screams. They burst through the bedroom door, claws out, faces set for battle.
