Chapter 84
Elara's POV
Victoria's voice cracked through the cold air of the basement. "Please! I'll leave Misty Creek! I'll never contact Kael again!"
Her words came out in a rush. Desperate. Broken.
"I'll follow every clause in the agreement. Every single one. Just please—don't hurt her!"
Scarface laughed. The sound was ugly. Mean.
"Now you want to beg?" He took a step closer to me. "Too late for that."
I watched Victoria's face crumple. Her eyes squeezed shut. She thought she was about to watch something terrible happen to me.
My heart was pounding. But not from fear.
I let my face stay soft. Scared. The way Elara would have looked.
Inside, my mind was ice-cold and calculating.
Two guards. Both untransformed. Both cocky as hell.
I'd been planning to keep playing weak. Keep gathering information. Let them think I was just some terrified student who'd stumbled into the wrong place.
But they'd just walked right up to me. No backup. No caution.
Idiots.
The burly guard—Scarface—reached for my arm. His fingers were thick. Calloused.
"Don't fight, little girl," he said. His breath smelled like cigarettes and something rotten. "It'll hurt less if you just stay still."
The other guard laughed. He had Victoria's arm in a tight grip. "Watch closely, Miss Harrington. This is what happens to people who stick their noses where they don't belong."
Victoria made a broken sound. Like something dying.
I kept my eyes down. Let my shoulders hunch forward.
Scarface's hand was inches from my arm now.
My muscles coiled. Ready.
I thought: Enough pretending.
His fingers touched my sleeve.
I moved.
Fast.
I twisted sideways. His hand closed on empty air. Before he could react, I grabbed his wrist with both hands and yanked down. Hard.
The angle was all wrong for him. All right for me.
Crack.
The sound of his wrist breaking was sharp. Clean. Like a branch snapping.
He opened his mouth to scream.
I didn't let him.
My hand shot up. The edge of my palm slammed into his throat. Right on the soft spot below his Adam's apple.
The scream died. Turned into a wet, rattling wheeze.
He staggered back. Both hands went to his throat. His eyes went huge.
Two seconds. That's all it took.
The other guard froze. Just for a heartbeat.
That was enough.
He roared. Anger and shock mixing together. I saw his eyes start to glow. Amber. His body tensed. He was going to shift.
Not in this tiny room, you're not.
He charged at me. All muscle and rage. No technique.
I waited until the last possible second.
Then I sidestepped.
He was too committed to the charge. Too angry to adjust. He crashed past me.
I grabbed the back of his neck as he went by. My fingers dug into the pressure points. I used his own momentum. Guided him straight into the wall.
Bang.
His forehead hit the stone with a sickening thud.
He bounced back. Dazed. Blood running down his face.
I didn't give him time to recover.
My knee came up. Fast and brutal. Right into the small of his back. Where the spine curves.
He made a sound like all the air being punched out of him.
Then he folded. Crumpled to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.
Silence.
I stood there. My breathing was steady. Controlled.
The whole thing had taken maybe five seconds.
I heard a small gasp behind me.
Victoria.
Her eyes were open now. Wide. Staring.
She looked at the two guards on the floor. Then at me.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"You..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "How did you..."
I turned to face her fully.
I didn't bother trying to look scared anymore. Didn't hunch my shoulders or make my eyes big and helpless.
I just looked at her. Let her see what I really was under the weak Omega disguise.
"We need to leave," I said. My voice was calm. Flat. "Now."
Victoria stared at me like she'd never seen me before.
Maybe she hadn't.
The girl who'd followed her here—the fragile student she'd tried to protect—that girl was gone.
Standing in front of her now was someone else entirely.
"What..." Victoria's voice shook. "What are you?"
I didn't answer that.
Instead, I moved to the first guard. The one I'd hit in the throat. He was still gasping. Still alive. But he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
I crouched down. Patted his pockets. Found a key ring.
"Elara." Victoria's voice was stronger now. Sharper. "Who are you? Really?"
I stood up. Walked over to her chair. Started testing keys in the lock that held her wrists.
"Does it matter?" I said.
"Yes!" She jerked against her bonds. "You just—those were trained guards. Werewolf guards. And you took them both down in seconds. Without shifting. Without even breaking a sweat."
The third key worked. The cuffs clicked open.
Victoria rubbed her wrists. Red marks showed where the metal had dug in.
She was looking at me like I was a bomb that might go off. Scared. But also... calculating.
"No normal student could do that," she said slowly. "Not even a trained fighter. Those moves—" She stopped. Swallowed. "You've killed before. Haven't you?"
I met her eyes.
For a moment, I thought about lying. Making up some story about self-defense classes or a violent ex-boyfriend.
But what was the point?
She'd seen what she'd seen.
"We don't have time for this conversation," I said instead. "There are more guards upstairs. And whoever's in charge is going to notice these two are missing soon."
I moved to the door. Pressed my ear against it. Listening.
Footsteps above. Voices. But nothing close.
Not yet.
"Can you walk?" I asked without turning around.
"I..." Victoria stood up. Her legs shook. But she stayed upright. "Yes. I think so."
"Good."
I tested the door handle. Locked from the outside. Of course.
But I still had the key ring.
I started trying keys again. Faster this time.
Behind me, Victoria was silent. But I could feel her staring at my back.
I knew what she was thinking. The same thing Warren had thought. The same thing Kael suspected.
Who is this girl?
What is she hiding?
The lock clicked.
I eased the door open. Just a crack. Enough to see into the hallway beyond.
Empty. For now.
I looked back at Victoria. She'd pulled herself together. Mostly. Her face was pale. Her hands still trembled. But her jaw was set.
"Stay behind me," I said quietly. "Don't make any noise. If I tell you to run, you run. Understand?"
She nodded.
I could see the questions burning in her eyes. But she didn't ask them.
Smart.
I pulled the door open wider. Slipped into the hallway.
The stone walls were damp. Cold. The air smelled like mold and rust.
I moved forward. Silent. Every sense on high alert.
Victoria followed. She was trying to be quiet. But she wasn't trained for this. Her breathing was too loud. Her footsteps too heavy.
I'd have to work with it.
We reached the end of the hallway. Stairs going up. Light spilling down from above.
I could hear voices now. Clearer.
"—check on them in ten minutes—"
"—boss wants her scared, not dead—"
"—that kid who followed her, though, we can have some fun with—"
My jaw tightened.
Not going to happen.
I started up the stairs. Slow. Testing each step before putting my weight on it.
No creaks. Good.
Victoria stayed close behind me.
We were halfway up when I heard it.
A door opening. Above us.
Footsteps. Coming toward the stairs.
I looked back at Victoria. Put a finger to my lips.
She nodded. Her face had gone even paler.
The footsteps got closer.
I pressed myself against the wall. Gestured for Victoria to do the same.
She did.
We waited.
A shadow appeared at the top of the stairs.
Then a man. Tall. Broad shoulders. Gun on his hip.
He started down.
I counted his steps. Timed his rhythm.
Three more steps.
Two.
One.
He reached the landing where we were pressed against the wall.
I moved.
My hand shot out. Grabbed his collar. Yanked him off balance.
He stumbled. Started to shout.
I slammed my fist into his solar plexus. All my weight behind it.
The shout died. Turned into a wheeze.
I spun him around. Got my arm around his throat. Squeezed.
He clawed at my arm. Tried to throw me off.
I held on. Counted in my head.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
His struggles got weaker.
Twenty.
He went limp.
I lowered him to the ground. Checked his pulse.
Still alive. Just unconscious.
I looked up.
Victoria was staring at me again. Her hand was pressed to her mouth.
"Jesus Christ," she whispered. "What the hell are you?"
I stood up. Brushed off my hands.
"Someone who's very good at staying alive," I said.