“The protocol is moronic,” Adne said. “I can get a team in and out. It’s the only way.”
She glared at Monroe. “It would have saved Stuart and Kyle.”
Monroe’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak.
Connor put his hand on Adne’s shoulder. “That’s a big risk, kiddo. You sure about this?”
She nodded, but Monroe shook his head. “I forbid any further discussion on this matter. It’s out of the question. Protecting the Weaver is a team’s first priority.”
Adne’s laugh was haughty. “You were willing to throw everything away five seconds ago. This isn’t about protocol, it’s about me. Give it up, Monroe. I’m offering you the only feasible strategy and you know it.”
Monroe stared at her, his eyes tight.
Her voice dropped low. “Please, I can do this. Let me help them.”
Ethan looked at Monroe. “She’s right. It’s the only way this might work. It will probably still be a total disaster.”
“It would have to be a very small team,” Connor said, his eyes on Adne.
“How small?” Shay frowned at him. “I mean not counting those of us here now.”
“You’re not going,” Connor said curtly. “You’re the Scion. If you die, we all die.”
Monroe expelled a long breath. “The Scion won’t go. Adne, you can open a door near Eden, but not inside.”
“But that might not be enough,” she countered.
“An inside door in the club would be suicide. The risk that we’d lose and both Weaver and portal would be compromised is far too great,” he said. “And we just learned about the location of this detention site. You’d be going in blind. I won’t risk it. Across the street from wherever he’s being held or in an alley. We’ll strike from there, make the extraction, and get out again.”
“Who’s going?” Shay asked. He didn’t look happy, but the outrage had fled his eyes.
“Only volunteers,” Monroe said. “This isn’t coming from the Arrow. It’s personal. We won’t be going back to the Academy; the strike will happen one hour before dawn. Whoever is coming, you should get some rest or whatever else you need to do before we reassemble then.”
Ethan cleared his throat. “I’ll go.”
I couldn’t stop my snort of disbelief.
He offered me a cold smile. “I may not like you, wolf, but I’m sorry I almost killed your brother. And those bastards killed mine. I’d like a crack at them . . . and to piss them off by snatching their prisoners.”
Monroe frowned at him, but Ethan shrugged. “Like you said, Monroe. This is personal.”
“All right, Ethan. You’ll go and I’ll go.”
“Two?” Shay gaped at him. “You’re only taking two?”
“No.” Monroe smiled at him and then looked at me. “We’ll be taking an alpha Guardian with us. That should be all the muscle we need for a stealth extraction.”
“Don’t take Calla,” Shay said. “They’ll want to kill her. It’s too dangerous.”
I jumped up, flashing my fangs at him. “Do you even remember who I am? I don’t need you to protect me!”
When he met my gaze, my outrage dissolved. His eyes were full of fear . . . and love. “I know.”
“We need her to help us find her pack,” Monroe said. “She has to go.”
Shay’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded.
“I’ll go too,” Connor said suddenly. “If it’s gonna be the last party, I’m sure as hell not missing it.”
“It’s settled, then,” Monroe said. “Silas?”
“What?” The Scribe had been poring over his notes.
“Can I trust you not to report to Anika . . . at least not yet?” Monroe asked.
He started writing again but nodded. “I’ll make you a deal. Find out how they got Grant and I won’t run back to the Arrow. The report I can make right now is sparse at best.”
“Thank you,” Monroe said. “Ethan, let’s talk about logistics. Isaac, could you fix this boy something to eat? Connor—”
“Already on it,” Connor said, heading toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Adne, Shay, and me. “Come on, guys, I won’t be able to carry all of them myself.”
I glanced at Ansel, but he’d returned to staring at his hands and shuddering. Better to leave him alone right now. I wanted to help him, but if I was heading into a fight, I needed focus. Looking at Ansel tied knots in my gut. All I could see was his brokenness and a vision of my mother’s body bleeding on an altar. I swallowed bile and rose to follow Connor. Adne was already leaving the kitchen.
“Carry all of what?” Shay stood up.
“Weapons.” Connor grinned and strode through the door.
SIXTEEN
“WEAPONS?” SHAY REPEATED, watching Connor’s jaunty gait as he strode across the training room.
“Oh, just go after him.” Adne groaned. “Boys and their toys. You’d think he’d grow up.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, falling in step beside her. “Doesn’t he already have his swords?”
“Only two,” Adne said.
“Two isn’t enough?” Shay muttered under his breath as we followed Connor.
At the opposite end of the room was a narrow door. Connor unlocked it and we followed him inside. Darkness swallowed us fully since the room had no windows. I frowned, shaking my head, which had filled with a strange humming.
“Ow!” Connor shouted. “God dammit. I think Silas left his training manuals on the floor again. Now where is the stupid light . . . ?”
“Here,” Adne called, and in the next moment dingy light from the bare bulb washed through the room.
I gasped and Shay whistled. All four walls of the room, floor to ceiling, were covered with weapons: wickedly curving swords, ranging in length from a foot to the height of a full-sized man; daggers with hooked and jagged blades; single- and double-headed axes; maces and clubs; quarterstaffs and pole arms. All the weapons gleamed, even in the poor light.
The room pulsed with Old Magic; it poured off the enchanted weapons filling the room, making the air around us vibrate with power. My amazement gave way to a sickening twist low in my belly. Gazing at the weapons reminded me that Searchers spent their lives perfecting ways to kill Guardians. And this was how they did it. As if on cue, my shoulder throbbed. The muscles seemed to remember the damage done by these weapons.
“Look at this,” Connor said, kicking several sprawling texts out of his way. “If Silas loves his books so much, why does he leave them lying around?”
“Silas trains here?” I was still staring at the weapons, but the thought of the Scribe using any of them was bizarre. “I thought Scribes didn’t do combat.”
“They don’t, but all Searchers learn how to fight. Every one of us does a rotation at an outpost,” Connor muttered. “Even Scribes. Including the useless ones.”
“He’s not useless, just forgetful.” Adne crossed the room to climb a ladder that gave access to the topmost weapons hanging on the wall. “What do you want?”
“Get the French gladius,” Connor said. “And bring down a couple kataras too.”
“You’re so predictable,” Adne said, pulling weapons from their hooks. One appeared to be a standard short sword, but the pair of stunted blades she grabbed next were unfamiliar to me.
“I know what I like.” Connor grinned, catching the sword she dropped into his hands.
“How many blades do you carry?” Shay asked as Connor took the next two broad-bladed punch daggers from Adne.
“Depends,” Connor replied. “I think six is ideal. Maybe seven.”
“Ethan and Connor think their manhood is equal to the amount of steel they have tucked beneath their clothing.” Adne snickered. “I think they’re trying to make up for something.”
“Hey, now!” Connor said.
“They once had a competition to see who could carry the most at once,” Adne said.
“Who won?” I asked.
“I did,” Connor said. “Twenty-t
wo.”
“Really?” Shay’s eyebrows shot up. He began eyeing the various shapes and sizes of weapons on the wall.
“Great.” Adne rolled her eyes. “Looks like you’ve got a new challenger.”
Connor shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it, Shay. Once you get past fifteen, things start to poke in nasty ways anytime you move.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Shay grinned.
“Besides.” Ethan was leaning on the door frame. “Connor cheated. Poniards are not real blades.”
“One through the eye or jammed under the throat kills just fine,” Connor said.
“Still, that’s a girly knife and you know it.”
“I know you aren’t dissing girls,” Adne said, glaring at him. “Because that could prove hazardous to your health.”
“Of course not,” Ethan said. “Just dissing Connor.”
“You’re just pissed ’cause you lost.” Connor held the sword blade up to the light. “This needs sharpening.”
“You should take better care of your weapons,” Ethan said, ignoring the gesture Connor made and speaking to Adne. “So is this tonight’s green room?”
“Seems like that’s what it’s turning into,” Adne said. “You need more bolts? And target practice to take the edge off while we wait?”
“You know it.” He grinned.
While Adne gathered more blades and Ethan rummaged through storage crates, Shay sidled up next to me and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry about what I said back there.”
I ground my teeth, fighting anger but not wanting to snap at him.
“I just don’t want to lose you.”
I nodded but didn’t look at him. Even if it was out of love, I resented his words. I hadn’t deserved them. Neither had Ren. My chest was tight, thinking of Shay and the Bane alpha. I wondered if they’d ever be able to fight together.
Shay was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head and sighed.
“Are you okay?” I asked, swallowing the last of my anger.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Just thinking.”
He looked at me and sighed again. “So he’s going to come back.”
“Who is?” I asked, watching steel glint as Connor brandished weapons.
“Ren,” Shay said, and with that name hanging in the air between us, he had my full attention. “I mean, if this works. He’ll be here. With us.”
I looked away.
Ren.
Ren would be here. I couldn’t ignore the rush of heat through my veins at the thought that he would be safe. And that he would be close to me.
“What does that mean?” Shay pressed.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully, moving forward to inspect the deadly wall ornaments.
He grabbed my hand. “Calla, hang on.”
When I turned to face Shay, his eyes were bright as spring leaves sparkling with dew.
“I don’t want to talk about this, Shay,” I murmured. “I have more important things to think about. Like not dying.”
“You don’t have to talk,” he said. “Just listen.”
Both of his hands came up, cupping my face. “I don’t care that Ren will be here. Okay, that’s a lie. Just the thought of him being around you makes me crazy. I can’t think straight and all I feel is the wolf inside me. That’s why I said . . .”
A growl rose in his throat and I could see the wolf flash in his eyes, predatory and defensive. “It doesn’t matter. I swear I want to help the pack. And I don’t want anything bad to happen to Ren either . . . well, most of the time. All I care about is you and me. Things have been different between us since we’ve been alone. At least, I’d like to believe they have been.”
I didn’t want to look at him. My heart seemed to be throwing itself against my rib cage, like it was trying to escape this conversation.
“You aren’t in Vail,” he continued. “The rules have changed. I’m going to fight to be the one at your side.”
Had they? I didn’t know whose rules applied anymore or where my place in any of this was.
“Shay—” I tried to pull back, but his hand slipped around my waist and he held me in place.
“Tell me that isn’t what you want and I’ll walk away,” he said, leaning in so his lips brushed my cheek.
My throat closed. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I did. In a way I hadn’t believed was possible before he’d been in my life. He deserved to know that. He should have some reassurance that his feelings were fully returned. But I didn’t trust myself anymore. Not after Ansel’s story. I’d brought torture and death to the people I loved. My mother had been killed. My pack was still in danger, my brother mutilated and hating himself. All of that was my fault. How could I answer? When I made choices for myself, they destroyed everyone I loved. What did I really have to offer Shay when all I brought with me was carnage?
“What are you two whispering about?” Adne called from her perch. “Here, catch!”
She pitched a sword at Shay. I flinched, but he stepped forward, easily catching its hilt.
“What is this for?” he asked. “I’m not even going.”
“How else are we going to pass the time before Monroe sends us out?”
“I know I’m not sleeping,” Connor said. “Don’t feel like a tussle, Shay? Just ’cause you’re getting left behind doesn’t mean you can’t take a few swings for fun.”
“I guess.” I caught sight of sharp fangs when Shay snarled at Connor.
“Want one, Calla?” Adne gestured to the wall of arms.
“No, thanks,” I said, eyeing the myriad of gleaming axes, swords, and dozens of other weapons I couldn’t name. “I’ll go with natural assets.”
“Those you’ve got—in abundance.” Connor wiggled his eyebrows at me.
When I smiled, showing sharp teeth, he stopped grinning.
Ethan laughed, smiling at me for the first time. “Good girl.”
Next to me, Shay swung and dipped the sword, trying it out.
“What do you think?” Adne asked, descending from the ladder and walking toward him.
“I’m not sure,” he said wistfully. “I wish I knew what the Elemental Cross was like. It would be nice to practice with something similar.”
“There’s nothing similar,” Connor said, hurling daggers at a practice dummy. Every blade landed squarely in the target’s chest. My stomach flipped over. Where will those blades lodge when we attack Eden? In the hearts of wolves I used to know? That I once fought beside?
“I guess.” Shay eyed the wall. “But none of these will be as good. I just wonder if practicing with them will be all that useful.”
“Stop insulting our weapons, Chosen One,” Connor said, whirling two swords rapidly before him. I took a couple steps back from the deadly flurry of blade strokes that Connor produced so casually. “They aren’t so bad.”
“I’m sure they aren’t.” Shay laughed. “I only meant . . .” He spread his hands helplessly. “Never mind.”
“I know what you meant.” Connor grinned. “And practice won’t hurt you, even if it’s not with your holy of holies Elemental Cross. If one-on-one is boring you, maybe you’re ready to try your hand against two of us at once?”
Shay looked at him and then at Adne. “I guess.”
“Don’t taunt him, Connor.” Adne shook her head. “Ignore him, Shay. You don’t have to try fighting both of us. That’s crazy.”
“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “Do your enemies usually stand in line waiting their turn?”
“Connor.” Adne put her hands on her hips.
“No,” Shay said, frowning. “He’s right. Let’s try it.”
“Are you sure?” Adne asked, though a smile crept over her mouth.
“Yeah,” Shay said, suddenly grinning. “Toss me another sword.”
“Let him try out the tsurugi,” Connor said. “Its hilt kind of looks like the Haldis.”
“Got it.” Adne went back
to the wall, reaching for a slender, slightly curving sword.
“And what will my lady be using?” Connor asked. The casual way he twirled the swords in front of him demonstrated the fatal control he held over the weapons.
“Let’s see how he takes to qi jie bian,” Adne said. “That’s something different.”
“The chain whip?” Connor asked. “Not a bad idea.”
“He’s pretty good with whips.” I shivered, flashing back to the night of the union. The dark forest and Flynn’s wicked smile. The way she screamed when I tore her hand off, how Shay had snatched the shadow whip from her severed limb’s grasp, in the next moment turning her own weapon against her.
“Is there anything you’re not good at?” Adne’s smile was blinding. I laced my fingers behind my back so I wouldn’t choke her.
“Golf,” Shay said with a grim smile. “I have no patience for it.”
The air hissed as he swept it with his blades.
Adne rolled her head back and forth, stretching her neck as she moved toward him. In each hand she held a wood-handled whip made of seven metal links. The end of each whip was tipped by a sharpened dart. They were frightening, appearing almost alive as they twisted through the air, guided by Adne’s graceful strokes.
“Those are whips?” Shay asked, gazing at the snaking metal Adne swirled easily before her body. The weapons didn’t look like any whip I’d laid eyes on.
“They are indeed,” she said, flicking her wrist. The silver links shot out, and before I could blink, the dart was impaled in the throat of a nearby practice dummy.
“Whoa,” Shay said, taking a step back.
“Not bad,” Adne said, jerking the whip free.
“And what are those?” I asked, watching as Connor strapped the short blades to his belt.
“Get close with those big teeth of yours and I’ll show you.”
Ethan snorted, raising his crossbow. “I’ll never understand why you like kataras.”
He fired four successive bolts into a dummy with startling speed.
Shay walked to the target. “How do you shoot that fast? I always thought crossbows were slow. Powerful, but slow.”
“You’re thinking of European crossbows,” Ethan said, coming to Shay’s side and jerking the bolts out of the dummy. “This bow is based on the Chinese design. Built for speed, not force. It has a magazine that loads a new bolt after each shot.”