CHAPTER 72

The plumbing shaft actually let down in the old kitchen, a place now ransacked by rats and filth. At least it did once I'd cut a hole in the drywall and plaster with my new sharp claw. The metal fittings and equipment piled up against the shaft made it tricky to escape without making a clatter but I somehow managed.

So far the building was silent. Waiting.

I let my senses out again, tracking the men I knew were there, and the subtle clues that might indicate someone else. No mice scurried quickly away, no rustle of garbage where there should be no breeze. So far so good.

I had climbed down to the main floor, which was where the kitchen was situated. Darkness had fallen in the building interior and even with my enhanced vision there were corners I couldn't peer into. I crept from the doors and into a long, eerie hallway.

The plaster had peeled away here and there, long streaks of graffiti looked too much like swaths of blood dripping along the remains. It was hard to imagine the place had ever been clean and sterile like a hospital should be.

There was something else, too, like a sharp finger of dread, that tickled my senses, but not in a way I would be able to explain.

*A presence from the deep dark*. My wolf confirmed.

A shade, or spirit, or ghost, as some people liked to call them.

The residual bit of a person's essence that was sometimes left behind. Like most animals, wolves could sense a shade, though we had no way of know anything else about it. Sometimes we felt their presence, sometimes we could hear a whisper, and once in a long while we could caught a hint of their trailing ethereal substance.

One lingered here, in this place, and honestly that didn't surprise me. I just hoped it would not be offended by my presence.

At the front of the building a male voice, one of the men that Aiden had sent, cried out, just before chaos broke loose.

Rapid gunfire followed and urgent murmured voices, all tangled together. Two of the three humans who were part of the murderer's group were involved in the entanglement. The third had snuck around the side, either looking for me, or hoping to come up behind Aiden's men. Whichever reason, they'd been distracted by a set of footprints in the soft earth, leading well away from the building before disappearing.

I hoped they stayed on the trail long enough for me to get the drop on my fellow wolf.

I kept to the shadows and we sent our senses out, picking our way through broken walls and debris and avoiding the more clear hallways where the sensors had been laid. There was a very obvious route they had wanted me to follow. I wanted to see where it led, but not fall into the trap, so I paralleled it as much as possible.

The closer I got the more my adrenaline took over. Memories flashed at me, faster than quicksilver. My mom's smile when I brought home a good grade in school, my dad's soft, teasing nature. The homecooked meals, always a little on the burned side.

The smoke. The blood.

My mother's broken body, beaten and torn.

My heart was racing, my breath loud, even to my own ears.

This was it, this was our chance. Vengeance.

I crept to an opening in the wall and moved just enough so that I could see inside.

He was standing in a surprisingly open room. A common gathering area. There was an old broken down piano at one end, and plenty of plaster and rat crap on the floor.

Just as I remembered from the facility. A tall man, six five, maybe more, his muscles less bulky and more like tight sinew like over-dried jerky. He was forty, maybe with dark hair shaved so close to his head all that was left was a bit of stubble. His skin was deeply tanned, a man who spent a lot of time in the sun.

He just stood there, no longer pacing, not fidgeting. Professional.

My wolf was nearly feral with the need to dive at him, to tear him apart, to break him the exact way my mother had been broken.

And yet...

As much as I wanted him dead, I wanted to know why. Why kill my parents? What was so important that they had to lose their lives like that?

So instead of charging I slipped into the room, all fury and shadow.

At this distance even my footsteps made a sound, but the man didn't whirl. He twitched before he turned, but he'd been expecting me.

"I was wondering if you'd even show up," he told me his accent thick, and Irish, as far as I could tell. His voice was raspy, the now visible scar across his neck indicating why. To leave lasting damage on a werewolf...it was likely someone had tried very hard to detach his head from his body. It wasn't a voice I was familiar with, this one I would have remembered. "You've got all the higher ups in a bit of a tizzy."

"And why is that?" I asked, taking his measure. He was tall, probably stronger than me, though, with the new strength my wolf had gained the last time I'd seen him that might not be true any longer. He was wearing tactical gear. The light eating black material covering all essential spots minus his head and neck. He also carried one of the guns that had been present at the shipping facility, and my bet was it contained a fair few of the wolf-killing bullets too.

In all, I was at a distinct disadvantage. My fury was too intense to run though. I would either get answers or vengeance tonight. Preferably both, but I wasn't picky.

The man shrugged. "I don't ask questions, I just do as I'm told."

"And you were 'just doing as you were told' when you murdered my parents?"

The man snorted, his eyes narrowed. He took in a dramatic breath, scenting the air. Of course, I was stealthed, so it had no affect.

Let him see us, I told my wolf.

I didn't have to tell her twice, she dropped the stealth she was holding and I could tell the second my scent spread far enough into the room for him to catch. His eyes widened and he took a step back.

His surprise only lasted a second, before he got himself back under control. He shook his head, his chuckle a sort of choking, grating noise that I wanted to bash right out of him.

"Of all the wolves I thought I would meet here tonight..." he chuckled some more, "I have to admit, I didn't think it would be you."

"You didn't answer my question," I growled, letting my wolf out a little.

To the man's credit, he didn't appear intimidated at all, the bored look on his face must have taken hours to perfect. But under it all I could hear the acceleration of his heart beat. The hitch in his breath that he worked carefully to hide. I could scent his fear.

"Your 'parents'," he chuckled again. Anger seethed through me, my teeth clenched against one another. I had to hold it together until I got answers, but, at the ends of my fingertips I could feel my nails elongating, "played a high stakes game and they lost. Stealing from the US military, and especially from the Thostchild operation, you forfeit your life. They knew exactly what was coming for them."

"And what did they steal? A weapon? Intel?"

This time his laugh was genuine, he barked it out and it echoed through the room.

"You don't even know. They didn't bother to tell you, did they?"

And the world stilled, because I'd been pushing everything down, pushing all the clues away. Suddenly I did know. Everything the werejaguar had said....

"They stole a weapon alright, one years and years in the making. Experimentation for decades all culminating down to one perfect subject. The first of your kind, and they took you, right out from under our noses. I hate to break it to you, lass, but you're the reason your parents are dead."