Chapter 85
Elara's POV
I stood over the two unconscious guards. My breathing was steady. Controlled.
The whole thing had taken maybe five seconds.
Behind me, Victoria made a small sound. Half gasp. Half sob.
I turned to face her.
She was still tied to the chair. Staring at me with wide eyes. Her mouth was open. Like she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.
I moved quickly. Crouched down beside the first guard—Scarface. Patted his pockets.
Found a key ring. A communication earpiece.
I pocketed both.
"Elara..." Victoria's voice was barely a whisper. "What... how did you..."
"Later," I said. Kept my voice low. Calm.
I stood up. Walked over to her chair. Started testing keys in the handcuffs that held her wrists.
Third key worked.
The cuffs clicked open.
Victoria rubbed her wrists. Red marks showed where the metal had dug in. Her hands were shaking.
She looked at the two guards on the floor. Then at me.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "Really?"
I met her eyes.
"Someone who needs to get us out of here," I said. "Can you walk?"
She hesitated. Then nodded. "I... yes. I think so."
"Good." I moved to the door. Pressed my ear against it. "Because we need to leave. Now."
I could hear Victoria behind me. Getting to her feet. Her breathing was all wrong. Too fast. Too shallow.
But she was standing. That was enough.
I tested the door handle. Still locked from the outside.
I pulled out the key ring. Started trying keys.
Third one worked.
The lock clicked.
I eased the door open. Just a crack. Enough to see into the hallway.
Empty. For now.
But I could hear sounds from upstairs. Footsteps. Voices. The house wasn't quiet.
I looked back at Victoria.
"Stay close behind me," I said quietly. "Don't make any noise. If I tell you to run, you run. Understand?"
She nodded.
Her eyes were still wide. Still scared. But there was something else there now too.
Questions.
She wanted to know who I was. What I was. How a seventeen-year-old girl could take down two grown werewolf guards in five seconds.
But she didn't ask. Not yet.
Smart.
I slipped into the hallway.
The stone walls were damp. Cold. The air smelled like mold and something metallic. Blood, maybe. Old blood.
I moved forward. Silent. Every sense on alert.
My lungs felt good. Strong. No wheezing. No tightness.
Helena's treatment was the only reason I could do this. The only advantage I had right now.
Victoria followed behind me. She was trying to be quiet. But she wasn't trained for this. Her footsteps were too heavy. Her breathing too loud.
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—"
Ten minutes. We had ten minutes before someone came down here and found the guards.
Maybe less.
I started up the stairs. Slow. Testing each step before putting my weight on it.
No creaks. Good.
Victoria stayed close behind me.
Halfway up, I heard something.
A door opening. Above us.
Footsteps. Coming toward the stairs.
I stopped. Put my hand back. Victoria bumped into me. I felt her tense up.
I pressed myself against the wall. Gestured for her to do the same.
She did.
The footsteps got closer.
I counted in my head. Timed the rhythm.
A shadow appeared at the top of the stairs.
Then a man. Tall. Broad shoulders. Gun on his hip.
He started down.
I waited.
Three more steps.
Two.
One.
He reached the landing.
I moved.
Fast.
Grabbed his collar. Yanked hard.
He stumbled. His mouth opened to shout.
I didn't let him.
My fist slammed 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.
His struggles got weaker.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
He went limp.
I lowered him to the ground. Checked his pulse.
Still alive. Just unconscious.
I looked up at Victoria.
She had both hands pressed to her mouth. Her eyes were huge.
"What the hell are you?" she whispered.
I stood up. Brushed off my hands.
"Someone who's very good at staying alive," I said.
I grabbed the unconscious guard's gun. Checked the magazine. Full.
Good.
I tucked it into the back of my jeans. Covered it with my shirt.
Then I continued up the stairs.
Victoria followed. She didn't ask any more questions.
We reached the top. A long hallway stretched out in front of us. Doors on both sides.
I remembered this hallway. They'd brought me through here when they dragged me inside.
The main entrance was to the left. But that would be guarded. Too risky.
There was a side door. East wing. Near the old kitchen.
I'd seen it when they were hauling me past. Half-hidden behind some furniture.
That was our way out.
I moved down the hallway. Keeping close to the wall.
Victoria's breathing was getting worse. Panicked. Uneven.
I stopped. Turned to face her.
"Breathe," I said quietly. "In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Slow."
She tried. It helped a little.
"How do you know the way?" she whispered. "You were unconscious when they brought you in. I saw them drag you."
"I wasn't unconscious," I said. "I was observing."
Her eyes widened again. But she didn't say anything else.
We kept moving.
I could hear voices behind one of the doors. Two men. Maybe three.
I led Victoria past it. Quiet as possible.
Then we reached the corner.
I stopped. Listened.
Footsteps ahead. Coming this way.
Damn.
I looked around. There. A door to our right. Slightly ajar.
I grabbed Victoria's hand. Pulled her inside.
It was a storage room. Old furniture. Boxes. Dust everywhere.
I eased the door almost closed. Left it open just a crack.
The footsteps got closer.
Two guards walked past. Talking in low voices.
"—ten minutes, he said—"
"—yeah, then we can have some fun with that girl who followed her—"
I felt my jaw tighten.
Not going to happen.
The guards kept walking. Their voices faded.
I waited another thirty seconds. Then I opened the door.
Clear.
We slipped back into the hallway.
The kitchen was just ahead. I could see the doorway.
And beyond it—the side door.
Almost there.
I picked up the pace. Victoria struggled to keep up. Her legs were shaking.
We reached the kitchen doorway.
I looked inside.
Empty.
The side door was on the far wall. Old. Wooden. Probably hadn't been used in years.
Perfect.
I crossed the kitchen. Victoria right behind me.
I tried the door handle.
Locked.
Of course.
I pulled out the key ring again. Started trying keys.
First one. No.
Second one. No.
Third one—
Click.
The lock turned.
I pulled the door open.
Cold night air rushed in. It smelled like trees. Rain. Freedom.
I could see the backyard. A high stone wall. And beyond it—forest.
If we could get over that wall, we'd have cover. We could disappear into the trees.
But the yard wasn't empty.
There was a guard. Middle of the yard. Smoking a cigarette. His back was to us.
For now.
I pulled Victoria close. Whispered in her ear.
"See that wall? Fifty meters. When I say three, we run. Full speed. Don't look back. Don't stop. Understand?"
She nodded. Her whole body was trembling.
I watched the guard.
He took a long drag on his cigarette. Then turned slightly. Looking toward the house.
Not yet.
He turned back. Facing away from us.
Now.
"Three," I said.
I grabbed Victoria's hand and ran.
We made it maybe twenty meters before the guard heard us.
"What the—"
He spun around.
"Intruders!" he shouted. "INTRUDERS IN THE YARD!"
His voice echoed off the stone walls.
Immediately, a siren started blaring. Loud. Piercing.
The communication earpiece in my pocket crackled to life.
"All units, backyard. Now!"
I heard something behind us. A sound I knew too well.
Bones cracking. Shifting. Reforming.
The guard was transforming.
Damn it.
The wall was still thirty meters away.
Victoria was slowing down. Her legs couldn't keep up.
I could hear the guard behind us. Not human anymore. Paws hitting the ground. Getting closer.
Twenty meters to the wall.
Fifteen.
The wolf was right behind us.
Ten meters.
I could hear its breathing. Feel its presence.
Five meters.
The wolf lunged.