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I berate myself harshly as I push forward. What the hell was I thinking, abandoning the mission to chase after some wild beast? No matter how magnetic her presence, how entrancing those blazing eyes… I’m a professional, dammit. I can’t afford to let myself get distracted like that again.
Gritting my teeth, I keep moving, each step sending a jolt of pain lancing through my battered body. My wounds are closing, the gouges already starting to knit together, but it’s a slow process. I’ll be feeling the after-effects of those vicious slashes for a while yet.
Serves me right for being so goddamn reckless.
The trees thin out ahead, and I spot the familiar dirt path winding through the underbrush. Swallowing hard against a surge of guilt, I veer onto the trail, my boots kicking up little puffs of dust.
Edirn…
Shit! He must have been waiting for me this whole time. I was supposed to meet up with him hours ago at the rendezvous point near the sanctuary’s perimeter.
What if he went looking for me and got into trouble? The thought has me increasing my pace, ignoring the protesting ache in my muscles. I have to find him, make sure he’s alright. Then, together, we can figure out how the hell we’re gonna get those wolves out of there.
The sanctuary buildings loom ahead through the trees, and I slow to a cautious creep, straining to catch any signs of movement. That’s when I hear it – distant voices, radios crackling with chatter. As I emerge past the trees, the sight that greets me has me freezing in my tracks.
Police cruisers – half a dozen of them at least – are clustered around the main building, their lights painting the scene in an eerie strobing glow of blue and red. Uniformed officers mill around everywhere, speaking in terse codes into their shoulder mics. Even from here, I can make out the metallic shrieks of the radios, the constant buzz of tense activity.
What the hell is going on?
Did they know we were coming? Or…fuck, don’t let Edirn have done something stupid. If he’s been captured, or worse…
My jaw clenches as possibilities start to careen through my mind, each one darker than the last. I have to get a closer look, figure out exactly what’s happening. But first, I need to get out of sight before one of those cops spots me skulking around out here looking like the walking dead.
With a rattling exhale, I turn and melt back into the shadowed tree line, circling around the perimeter as I try to formulate some kind of plan.
I slink through the shadows, using every bit of my wolf-honed senses to gather information without drawing unwanted attention. Snippets of terse conversation drift my way, painting a grim picture.
“…bodies were shredded, like an animal attack…”
“…guards never stood a chance…”
“…whoever did this is still out there…”
My jaw tightens as the implications sink in. An attack, multiple casualties – this can’t be good. Edirn could be in serious trouble. I have to find out more.
Crouching low, I inch closer to the commotion, my eyes scanning the flurry of activity. The cops seem to be focused on the main building, no doubt investigating the scene of the crime. That’s where I need to be.
As I creep forward, I catch a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. Spinning my head around, I spot a lone officer sweeping the area, his brow furrowed in concentration. I force myself to remain still, blending into the shadows.
The cop draws nearer, dangerously close. I hold my breath, every muscle tensed and ready to spring into action if needed. Just as he’s about to pass my hiding spot, a twig snaps underfoot.
The officer whirls around, his weapon drawn and trained on the spot where I crouch. “Who’s there?” he barks, his voice taut with unease.
Shit. He’s going to see me.
There’s nothing for it; I have to show myself. I step forward, and his eyes widen, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“Freeze! Put your hands up!” he barks. Cautiously, I raise them, grateful I’d had the forethought to zip my jacket up over my ruined shirt.
“Whoa!” I respond. “Easy now. I didn’t do nothin’.”
“What are you doing out here?” His lips tighten, suspicion clouding his eyes.
“Just out for a hike. What’s going on here?” I pray that he doesn’t look too closely at my unconventional “hiking” garb. I’ve spent my time here dressed to fit in with the bikers at the bar. My denim jeans and steel-toed boots might pass for walking gear, but the leather jacket might raise eyebrows.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem too interested in my wardrobe. “This is an active crime scene. You need to keep clear.” He jerks his head over his shoulder where I see he’s been marking out the area with crime scene tape.
“Crime scene?” I frown. “What happened?”
