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I don’t hesitate. “If we don’t stop them, they’ll come for all of us. From what we gather these folks are conducting experiments on shifters. They are looking for our weaknesses but perhaps even more worrisome they are looking to find out how they can make our strengths their own.”
Silence hangs in the air as the weight of the revelation sinks in. Finally, he sighs and leans back.
“What do you need from us?”
“First, we need a few members for security at our compound. One of our pack members was attacked and he’s in a bad way. There’s a good chance that at least a few of the DHS members will be trying to attack both him and my mate, Madison.”
“What would they want with a human?” My cheeks burn. I don’t like that Malachi Grey already knows who Madison is but there’s no time to fixate on that now.
“One of the members is her ex-boyfriend. He’s a nasty and abusive man with a great talent for tracking.”
“I don’t want to get my pack involved in your relationship drama Chase,” he practically spits at me.
“Do you want the chance to get your men back or not? We need some extra hands and we need to find their headquarters, now.” I spit back.
Slowly but firmly Malachi finally relents, “Fine. We’re in. But this better be worth it, Chase. We’re not in the habit of playing heroes.”
I offer a tight smile of gratitude. “It will be. Thank you.”
The outskirts of town are cloaked in darkness as our small group gathers near a nondescript bar. Jax’s fowl scent is all over this place.
We exchange glances, a silent understanding passing among us. I step forward, “Stay sharp, everyone. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Approaching the entrance, we blend into the shadows, our senses on high alert. Malachi motions towards a seemingly abandoned storage area at the back of the bar, hidden in the shadows.
As we slip into the back room the scent of mildew floods my senses and I fight back gagging. Muffled sounds of conversation from the bar patrons mask our movements. We might be in enemy territory, but we’re ready.
My nose wrinkles at the scent of unwashed bodies and spilled beer that hangs in the air as we follow the long corridor. As we reach the back of the storage area, a sole metal door stands between us and the unknown.
Dustin skillfully picks the lock. The door swings open, revealing a narrow stairwell leading downward. So, this is the clandestine entrance to the underground lair of the DHS.
We descend cautiously, the air growing colder with each step. The faint hum of machinery echoes through the concrete walls. At the bottom, another heavy metal door marks the entrance to the DHS headquarters.
You’d think they would have better security than this, are they really that cocky?
Gathering our strength, together we push the door open. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the steel corridors.
The first obstacle presents itself in the form of two guards dressed in all-black tactical gear who are stationed near the entrance and come rushing toward us. Malachi and Drew rush forward without a moment’s hesitation cracking each of the guards on their heads and they fall to the ground with an echoing thud.
Stealthily, we move through the facility, careful not to let our footsteps be heard. The scent of chemicals and sterile cleanliness fills the air as we discover rooms filled with equipment and files.
Our destination, the heart of their operation, lies ahead of us. We reach a room with reinforced double doors. Drew, shifting back to his human form, flexes his hands, ready for whatever lies beyond.
Malachi, Isaiah, Dustin, and I brace ourselves as the doors swing open. The room reveals a high-tech laboratory. A slew of monitors flicker along the walls.
“We’re in,” I whisper looking at the others with determination in my eyes.
The sterile white corridors of the DHS underground facility morph into a battlefield as we press forward. Tactical-clad guards swarm in. They are armed to the teeth.
Quickly shifting, we clash together, erupting into a chaotic dance of steel and claws. Isaiah, in his massive bear form, roars, creating a formidable barrier against the incoming guards.
There are fewer of them than I thought there would be. They are caught off guard by our arrival and scramble in their frantic attack. Malachi, Drew, and Dustin fight with precision. Their supernatural prowess gives them an edge.
Jax’s scent lingers, bitter and taunting. Determination courses through my veins as we carve our path toward the room at the end of the corridor. Isaiah gives me a nod. Now, the real show begins.
“Be ready. We work as a unit. One of us fails and we all fail.” I say.
The weight of the impending confrontation settles on my shoulders. The door gives way, revealing a chilling scene. There are rows upon rows of shifters hooked up to strange equipment.
