“Why not? We’d have the advantage. Two against one.”
“But your old packmate would have the high ground.” To say nothing of the fact that I can’t let any of them see me. I can’t let them know that I’m helping Emlyn until I’m ready to turn her in.
That thought makes me feel a little uneasy.
Am I really still going to turn her in? I can’t stop thinking about how natural it felt, holding her against me, losing myself in her body. And they’re going to kill her. I know they are. How can I just let that happen?
I don’t have to decide this right now. Right now, what matters is getting out of this tunnel.
“Come on,” I tell her “As long as we move quickly and quietly, we ought to be fine.”
“I don’t know,” she says.
“Are you scared?”
“Of course I am, idiot. Ravagers pick the flesh from the bones of bigger animals than us. Maybe I’d rather just take my chances with the wolves.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Trusting you doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“But do you trust me?” I press her.
She hesitates. “You know I do.”
I never would have imagined that hearing that could make me feel like such garbage. But the thing is, I don’t deserve her trust, and I know that.
Still, if it gets us moving, it will be worth it.
I feel around in the darkness until I find her hand, and I draw her forward. “We need to get to a different part of the city,” I tell her as we start to shuffle forward. “Even if we did get up to the street level, we’d still be right in the heart of your pack. They would catch our scent in no time. It makes much more sense to go as far as we can, and to try our luck somewhere else.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she agrees. “I just wish—”
And then I feel her go still.
“What?” I ask. “What is it?”
“Don’t you smell it?” she breathes.
I inhale experimentally.
It’s distant. If she hadn’t said something, I would have missed it.
But I do smell it. Sour and pungent and nightmarish, like rotting meat combined with rust. It turns my stomach and makes me feel like I’m in a nightmare.
And it’s growing stronger. It’s getting closer.
They’re coming.
I tighten my grip on her hand. “Run,” I breathed. “As fast as you can.”
Then I let her go and shift.
A moment later, I hear the familiar sounds of claws on concrete and lupine panting, and I know she’s shifted too. I set off at a run and perceive that she’s following me.
She’s fast. So am I.
But we’re loud down here, our claws clattering against the concrete, echoing down the tunnel. There’s no way to keep yourself quiet while you’re running in the underground tunnels.