10 days after the kidnapping of Roxanne Kindley

“Four-hundred and ninety eight… f-four-hundred and ninety nine… five hundred!”

Sam let go of the pull-up bar and dropped to the floor, satisfied with her work. Leif was nearby, running through sword drills. They were both training, making sure they were in their top possible form, prepared to go save Roxy at a moment’s notice. Sam was done sitting around and being depressed. If she and Roxy’s positions were reversed, she was sure that Roxy wouldn’t waste a single second in preparing herself to come to the rescue. She just prayed that Pedro found something soon. She was getting restless and she wasn’t sure how much longer Roxy would be able to hold on for. Every day, her mental state seemed to degrade more and more. Gone was the defiance and determination of the early days of her torture, replaced by all-consuming fear, pain, and a constant stream of self-deprecation and a sense of worthlessness. Sam tried to ward off the feelings by sending her love and hope through their bond, but it seemed to be getting less effective as time went on. They had to save her soon.

Today was a special day for Roxy. It was her seventeenth birthday. It was the day they were all meant to drive out into the countryside to get high and stargaze together. Instead, Roxy was missing and everyone was too depressed about it to even bring up the fact that it was her birthday. Sam held her own little vigil for her, lighting a candle at midnight and saying a little prayer of hope that she would be found soon. It had been a long time since she prayed to the moon, but it never failed to rejuvenate her spirit. The moon obviously had some sort of power, given the fact that she and the rest of her species existed, and she’d always secretly believed that there was some sort of deity up there, listening to her prayers and granting her strength when she needed it. The strength of her belief had amplified tenfold after the ritual, where the sheer power of the moon itself had cured her silver sickness and granted her with control over her wolf like she’d never imagined before. There was no way there wasn’t something up there, looking down on her. She hoped they were looking down on Roxy, too, protecting her in whatever way they could.

Pedro was still apparently struggling to find any leads. He never ended up finding that suspicious man he’d met at the bar again, and that was pretty much the only thing he had to go off of. Still, Sam wasn’t going to lose hope. The hunters may be well hidden, but no one was perfect. There had to be some indication of where they were, some little slip-up that would be the single loose thread to unravel the entire operation. Pedro said that the man seemed guilty about something, so it wasn’t far-fetched to think that he might eventually crack and confess. Surely not everyone in the hunter’s outpost was okay with what was happening to Roxy. They might be brainwashed, but surely at least one of them had a heart.

Sam inspected her nails, letting her wolf out and watching as they turned into claws. The keratin went from clear to dark brown, lengthening and sharpening. Would they be enough to get the job done? Would they be sharp enough? She tested them out on her other arm, slicing through her skin with ease. The wound closed up before the pain could even register, leaving behind imperceptible white scars, completely indistinguishable from the rest of her arm, given that it was already severely scarred in her fight with Blaine. Curious about the strength of her defences, she let her left arm shift. Her skin turned thick and leathery, sprouting a dense coat of fur. She tried once again to slice it, but simply raking her claws across her arm was not enough anymore. She had to dig in with much more force to draw any blood. That was good, at least, but how would it hold up in an actual fight? Would it be enough to block a hunter’s blade from severing her arm?

“Hey, Leif? Could you come here for a sec?”

The girl paused her training and turned to her. “Yeah? What’s up?” She walked over, sword still in hand.

“Can you try to cut off my arm? I wanna see if I’m strong enough to block it.”

Leif froze, a perplexed expression on her face. “I-I’m sorry, did I hear that right?”

“Yep,” Sam replied, holding out her arm. “Go on, give it a shot.”

Leif’s expression quickly became one of concern. “S-Sam? Are you actually good? I-I’m not gonna cut off your fucking arm!”

Sam didn’t really get what the problem was. “Well, yeah, that’s the idea. You’re meant to try, though. If I can block it, it’ll mean the hunters won’t be able to do any real damage with their swords. Any small cut will heal up in an instant with the amount of Lunin in my system, and their regular silver doesn’t work on me because I’m a direwolf, so the only real danger is getting a limb lopped off. Or getting shot, I guess, but there’s not really much I’ll be able to do about that.”

Leif sighed exasperatedly and rubbed her face. “Sam, I don’t care what the reason is, I’m not gonna do that. Honestly, it’s a little worrying that you would even suggest it. Are you alright? Seriously.”

Sam deflated. “I-I just… wanna be as ready as I can to go save her. I-i-if I mess up, who knows what might happen to her? I can’t fail, Leif. There can’t even be a chance of failing. I… I can’t lose her. I can’t let that happen.”

Leif’s face softened. “I get it, Sam, I really do, but me trying to cut off your arm isn’t gonna help her. What if I actually succeeded and you lost your arm? I’m pretty sure not even you would be able to just walk that off.”

Sam shrugged. “You never know, it might just grow back.”

“Sam, if you could regenerate cells like that, you wouldn’t have any scars.” Leif let out a long sigh. “Look, this argument is completely pointless, anyway. This sword is blunted, it’s not gonna be a good representation of what we’ll be going up against in the outpost. There just isn’t a way we’ll be able to do this without risk of failure. That’s just not how things work. We just have to have faith that we’ll be ready when the time comes.”

Sam sighed and flopped onto the floor. “Why are you being so wise right now? Who are you and what have you done with Leif?”

Leif chuckled and shook her head. “Well, one of us has to keep a level head around here. Lord knows you’d fall apart without me.”

Sam remembered what happened a few days ago, when she broke into Carol’s liquor shelf and got black-out drunk to try and numb the pain of what was happening to Roxy. If Leif had been there that day, that probably wouldn’t have happened, and she wouldn’t have suffered the worst hangover of her life when she woke up the next day. Granted, it was also the only hangover of her life, but that detail was irrelevant. She grunted. “I guess.”

Leif hummed. “C’mon, get up. We’ve still got some more training to do.”

“Clarissa? Is that you?”

Leif kicked her in the ribs.

—

Roxy woke to the sound of her cell door opening. She immediately jumped to her feet, more than used to the daily routine at this point. Sure enough, Emmerich walked in, smiling at her.

“Ah, Roxanne. Good to see you’re already up. Come with me, it’s time for training.”

“Yes, sir,” Roxy mumbled.

She followed him out of the room and down the halls. There weren’t any guards accompanying him anymore, nor did he drag her along by her cuffs. He was giving her a little bit of trust, and she wasn’t going to squander it. She also knew it was just another test of her obedience, to see if she would take the opportunity and try to make a run for it. While tempting, she knew she wouldn’t make it very far in her state without a weapon, so she just did as she was told, nervously rubbing her sore wrists as she walked.

She prodded her tongue along her teeth, sorrowfully making note of the very obvious gap that was present after her punishment yesterday. She wasn’t sure whether she should be thankful that it was one of her molars or not. It probably wouldn’t have hurt quite as much if it was one of her front teeth, but it would have ruined her face even more. She supposed it didn’t really matter at this point. What was done was done.

They reached Emmerich’s office and went through the usual routine. He threw her to the ground and ordered her around, and she followed those orders to the best of her ability. When he told her to stand, she stood. When he told her to jump, she jumped. When he told her to hold her arms out, she did so, not flinching or making a sound as he caned them. Reacting to the pain would only lead to worse pain. If she could just get through one day without messing anything up, she wouldn’t be punished. Her body wouldn’t be ruined even more. Maybe they would finally move on to something else. Maybe she would be given clothes, or something soft to sleep on, or more than one meal a day. If she was good, maybe her whole body would stop hurting with every breath she took. God, she just wanted the pain to stop. She would give anything for the pain to stop.

“Kneel.”

Roxy dropped to her knees without a second thought, ignoring the pain that shot up through them from cracking against the ground like that. Emmerich walked up to her and gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up until she was looking him in the eye. That… was new. She nervously averted her gaze.

“Are we finally finished, Roxanne? Are you finally going to be good for me?”

She didn’t answer, an awful feeling bubbling up in her chest. He cradled her face with both hands. Her whole body was screaming at her. This was bad. This was wrong. She needed to get away. A thumb stroked across her cheek and Roxy nearly gagged, instinctively jerking her head away from the touch. A gentle touch wasn’t supposed to feel like that. Sam never made her feel like that.

Emmerich’s face distorted into a scowl and she realised what she did. Fear gripped her heart like a vice. She fucked up. “W-wait, n-no, I didn’t-”

A slap cut her off and knocked her to the ground. “Shut up, you useless little waste! What’s wrong with you? How long will it take for you to understand?!” Emmerich grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head off the floor. “You belong to me. When I tell you to do something, you do it, and you keep doing it until I tell you to stop! Did I tell you to move your head? No!”

Roxy started crying. She wasn’t sure if she could take being punished again. “I-I-I’m so sorry, sir! I-it was an accident! P-please don’t hurt m-me again! I d-didn’t mean to! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Emmerich dropped her head and let her sob to herself on the ground, muttering apologies over and over. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, and you should know that by now. I’m getting sick and tired of this disobedience. Let this be your final warning, if you don’t learn your lesson from today’s punishment, I’m giving up on you. Do I need to remind you of what that means? You’ll be crippled and left in your cell to rot, the men coming and going as they please. You’ll make for a great stress reliever for them, I’m sure. Is that what you want?”

“N-no, sir,” she mumbled. She couldn’t let that happen. No matter what, she couldn’t.

He grabbed her by her cuffs and dragged her to her feet, hanging the chain on the hook of the rack. He twisted a valve and the hook rose up until she was hanging limply by her wrists, her toes only just reaching the floor, just like that first awful day. Her whole body shook with fear. There wasn’t any getting out of her punishment anymore.

“Then you’d better take this punishment to heart. It may take a bit of time to set up, so why don’t you sit there and think about what I’ve said?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she replied. As if there was any other choice.

—

Brooke took a deep breath and walked through the front door of Sunny’s Used Goods. Her hands were clammy, her heart pounding. She’d never defied her dad like this before, but she couldn’t just sit around not knowing how Roxy was. It was stupid. She was probably fine, right? A bit lonely, maybe, but by now she should have settled into wherever they were keeping her. That was one thing Brooke hadn’t figured out yet. She wasn’t sure where in the outpost Roxy would be staying. There were the barracks, of course, but that seemed… a little uncomfortable, what with all of the men around. She would’ve expected that they’d give Roxy her own room, but she couldn’t figure out where such a room would be. Most of the rooms in the outpost were offices where people would go about their various duties for the Sons. Other than that, there was the armoury, the infirmary, the training halls, the labs on the bottom floor, and… the cells.

A weird feeling bloomed in Brooke’s gut. Surely they weren’t keeping her in the cells, were they? Those were for werewolves and traitors, and they were suitably uncomfortable for that purpose. If Roxy was in a cell, Brooke expected that they would have at least furnished it a little beforehand. Those things didn’t even have beds, for god’s sake! Still, wherever she was, it was probably the right call. Her dad knew what he was doing.

Brooke walked through the pawn shop and up to the counter, ignoring all of the various items on display. The plainclothes soldier who was manning the till looked up from his book at her approach.

“Oh. Hi, Ms Harrison. Are you here to see your dad?” he asked.

“Yep,” she lied. “He, uh… he forgot his lunch.”

The soldier shook his head and for a second she was worried that he called her bluff, but thankfully he wasn’t observant enough to notice she wasn’t actually carrying anything. “Sounds like him, alright. Head on through, I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

Brooke’s heart jumped into her throat. “O-Oh! No need! I wouldn’t want to disturb him any more than I already am!”

The soldier raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t protest. “If you say so. The door’s unlocked, you can head right down.”

Brooke nodded and walked through the staff-only door before the soldier could change his mind. She walked down the stairwell into the landing and planned out her next move. There were three floors in the outpost, going deeper underground from first to third. The first floor held most of the offices and was mainly where her dad stayed when he was working, unless something elsewhere in the outpost called his attention. The second floor held a few offices, as well as most of the infrastructure for the soldiers, including the barracks, armoury, and infirmary. That was also where the cells were. The third floor was pretty much entirely labs, where they were working on perfecting DX-47. There were also a couple of cages down there for the werewolves that they were experimenting on, but she seriously doubted Roxy was in one of those. That ruled out the third floor completely, and the first floor was unlikely, not to mention risky, given her father’s presence. That left only the second floor.

If she was going to look around the second floor, she would have to make sure she looked busy, so she wasn’t stopped by any soldiers wondering what she was doing. If one of them ended up reporting her presence to her dad, it would be all over just like that. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to find out how Roxy was doing before that.

Her mind made up, Brooke descended the stairwell all the way until she reached the second floor. It was a good few flights down, as the outpost had to be deep enough to ensure it didn’t get in the way of any city infrastructure. It technically wasn’t actually meant to be there, so it made sense.

She stepped out into the hallway and immediately picked a direction at random. She didn’t really know where she was going or what to look for, so she just kept an eye out for any sign of Roxy’s presence. After a few minutes of walking aimlessly through the halls, she decided to put her curiosity at ease and headed for the cells. That was both the least likely and most likely place she would be. Least likely because, why would they keep her in a cell? Weren’t they trying to undo her brainwashing? It wasn’t like she was a prisoner or anything. Still though, she couldn’t think of any other place on the floor where she would reasonably be staying.

She reached the section of hall lined with those thick metal doors. What would indicate that Roxy was staying in one other than prior knowledge? After taking a quick look around and making sure that there weren’t any guards nearby to question her, she approached the nearest door and put her ear up to it, listening for any sign of life. The first cell she checked came up empty, as did the second, and the third. There were no sounds coming from the fourth, either, but there was an odd smell present that definitely wasn’t there at the previous cells. She tried to focus on it. It certainly wasn’t pleasant, that was for sure. Was it… waste? It smelled kind of like a public toilet, minus the ineffective air freshener. Was that cell being used? Was there a prisoner she didn’t know about? It… It couldn’t be Roxy, could it? Nervously, she tapped on the door a few times, listening for a reaction, but there was nothing. Whoever the cell’s inhabitant was, they were either very quiet, or not currently present.

Brooke sighed and decided to move on. She wouldn’t find anything more there. Besides, something else had grabbed her attention. There was a strange sound echoing from down the halls somewhere. She couldn’t place what it was, but it made her uneasy. She followed the noise down the halls, her heart thudding in her chest.

The noise got louder as she went, occasionally breaking off before picking back up again at a higher pitch. There was a new smell in the air as well. It was almost like… cooking meat? It was making her mouth water, but at the same time the idea made her feel slightly ill. That sound was digging into her brain. What was it? She turned a corner and suddenly the clarity of the sound increased tenfold.

Screaming.

Brooke’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Why did it sound familiar? It… It couldn’t be her, could it? Surely not. Why would Roxy be screaming? That… That didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t her, there was no chance of that. She was just having her brainwashing… removed…

But what exactly did that process entail? Brooke didn’t know. Surely not…

She reached a door. The source of the blood-curdling sound was in that room. This was… this was Mr Emmerich’s office. What was he doing? It definitely wasn’t him screaming. While it sounded rough and torn, the voice was clearly female. The smell was so strong that Brooke wanted to throw up. The screaming was so loud her ears hurt. She reached out for the door handle with a shaking hand. With a twist and a click, it opened. A gust of hot air rushed out over her and…

Oh

Oh god

Roxy was hanging by her wrists from a pair of handcuffs, her face distorted in utter agony as Mr Emmerich pressed a white-hot piece of metal against the underside of her upper arm with a pair of tongs. A quick glance revealed it was clearly not the only place that had been burnt; there were distinctly shaped marks visible all over her torso. Brooke realised with detached horror that the girl was completely nude. Mr Emmerich pulled the metal off of Roxy’s skin and her screaming finally cut off, her whole body untensing and her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. There was a bit of skin still stuck to the metal, sizzling slightly. Brooke almost fainted.

Roxy didn’t look well. This clearly wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Her body was covered in various cuts and bruises, some bandaged and some just left to heal on their own. Her ribs were clearly visible. Her one visible eye was sunken in, adorned with heavy bags. Her usually tan skin was a sickly pale tone. A part of her hair had already turned completely white from the stress. They were torturing her. They were torturing her. Brooke gave them a way to get her, thinking that they would help her, and now they were torturing her. Her dad told her they would help her. Did he lie? Was it all just a lie?

“Ah, Brooke! How nice of you to pop in!”

Despite Mr Emmerich’s greeting, Brooke couldn’t tear her eyes from Roxy’s brutalised form. She watched as the girl weakly lifted her head and noticed her presence. A series of emotions flashed across her face all in the span of a second. Surprise, hope, confusion, realisation, betrayal, resigned acceptance. She must have realised it was her fault, but she didn’t even have the willpower left to be angry at her. What happened to the girl who threatened her just for acting suspicious not even two weeks ago?

“Brooke?”

Brooke turned her head. Mr Emmerich was taking off his heat-resistant gloves, setting them down on a metal table that definitely wasn’t usually part of his office decor. On it sat the piece of metal, the tongs, and a blowtorch. He seemed completely unphased.

“Y-yes?” she answered automatically. She didn’t want to talk to him. She never wanted to see him again. He was torturing her friend.

“I was just asking what you were doing here?”

Brooke did her best to slip back into her poker face. It was vital for an outpost head to remain composed at all times, regardless of how they actually felt. A tiny voice in the back of her mind asked her if that was really what she wanted to end up as after what she’d just seen. She ignored it. She could think about that later. “I-I just… wanted to make sure everything was alright. I heard… noises.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr Emmerich replied, disgustingly cheerfully. “I was just teaching our newest recruit some discipline, you know? She’s having a bit of trouble following orders, but I’m sure she’ll figure it out soon.”

You fucking monster

“A-ah, I see.”

“Could you be a dear and take her to the infirmary for me? Wouldn’t want those burns to get infected.”

Brooke clenched her fists. “N-no, we wouldn’t.”

Mr Emmerich twisted a valve on the side of the rack that Roxy was hanging on, causing the hook to lower down until there was enough slack for him to simply slip the chain of her handcuffs off and let her drop to the ground. He bent down and grabbed the chain, dragging her up to her feet. She didn’t resist, just keeping her eyes- well, eye trained firmly on the ground. Brooke felt so sick.

He walked up to her, Roxy in tow, and handed her the chain. She took it without thinking. “Make sure you keep hold of that. She knows better than to make a run for it, but if you let go there’s a chance she’ll collapse and that won’t do you any favours.”

Brooke nodded numbly and left the office, walking down the halls towards the infirmary in a daze. She could hear Roxy’s uneven footsteps behind her, her breathing laboured and heavy. This was her fault. Roxy was being hurt, being tortured, because of her. She was the reason Roxy was taken in the first place. Her dad told her they would help her. They would get rid of her brainwashing that Sam had given her. But… this wasn’t helping her. This was traumatising her. If that was just a lie, then what else was her dad lying about? Was… everything a lie? Were werewolves even evil? Was Roxy ever even brainwashed? It felt like everything she’d ever known was crashing down around her.

Something touched her hand and she almost jumped out of her skin. It was Roxy. Roxy was holding her hand. She turned around. The girl was still staring resolutely at the floor, but she refused to let go of Brooke’s hand, even as it held onto the chain that bound her. She wanted support, Brooke realised. She wanted a familiar touch, something that wasn’t intent on hurting her. Brooke felt her heart falling to pieces in her chest. She accepted Roxy’s advances, gently squeezing her hand and stroking it with her thumb in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. Roxy started quietly sobbing.

Brooke made up her mind. This couldn’t continue. She caused this, now she had to do something about it. It was her responsibility.

She had to do something… but, what?

—

Doctor Matthews washed his hands off in the sink. It was getting worse by the day. He wasn’t sure how much Roxy would be able to take before her body just gave out. Sure, her injuries were mostly just surface level, but there was only so much a person could handle without getting any significant time to rest or heal, not to mention the abysmal diet Emmerich was feeding her. She didn’t even say a word today. She just stared at the floor with tears silently running down her cheeks, her breath hitching whenever he would touch her to change her bandages or clean her wounds. It was like she didn’t even know where she was. It was horrifying, frankly.

He sighed. He didn’t know what to do. Every day she came into his infirmary, her body littered with more and more abuse from that sadistic bastard, and all he could do to help her was ease her pain slightly and ensure nothing got infected. Was this what it meant to be a doctor for the Sons? He didn’t mind patching up soldiers who were injured in hunts or the like, but that didn’t happen often. Roxy was his only patient right now, and every time he saw her the feelings of guilt just got worse and worse. He was letting a child be horribly abused and he wasn’t doing anything about it. Wasn’t being a bystander worse than actually perpetrating the crime?

Did Roxy really have to be treated like this for their goals? Was the elimination of werewolves really so important that he could somehow justify what was happening to that poor girl? The answer was simple, but he was scared to admit it to himself. He’d devoted his entire life to this cause, following in his father’s footsteps, but his faith had been irreparably shaken. No one deserved this kind of treatment, it didn’t matter what the end goal was. Hell, none of it was even necessary! If all they needed her for was bait to lure in the direwolf, they could have just locked her in a room - with a bed and an actual toilet - and delivered food three times a day until the direwolf came for her. Nothing more needed to be done, yet Emmerich and Harrison still insisted on tormenting her. Why? Just because Emmerich needed a new soldier? That was bullshit. Emmerich was a sadist and a pervert. Would it kill him just to give her some god damn clothes?!

He paused, realising he’d been washing his hands for several minutes straight as he deliberated. He grunted to himself and dried his hands off, collapsing down into his chair. He couldn’t let this continue. It had gone on for far too long, and he regretted not doing something sooner. He wasn’t going to be able to convince Emmerich or Harrison to leave her alone, so getting her out was his only option. Helping her escape was risky. He didn’t have the clearance to interact with her outside of when she was being treated, and there was a decent chance the guards would just apprehend him as well if they saw him leading her to the exit. That wouldn’t help anybody. What else could he do?

An idea suddenly struck him. There was someone he could ask for help, a stranger he’d met at a bar a little over a week ago. One Pedro Luna, lead detective in the investigation team searching for Roxy. He knew the man somehow suspected him, given that a surprisingly accurate depiction of his face had shown up on the news the next day, requesting that he come in for questioning. The man was definitely good at his job if he somehow suspected him from just one drunk conversation. Going to him would definitely mean being arrested, though. His role in Roxy’s torment was undeniable, as much as he hated himself for it. Still, what did that matter? A child was being tortured, and that needed to stop, no matter the cost.

His mind made up, Doctor Matthews turned on his computer and opened up his email. He considered writing an email to the address given for matters regarding the investigation, but he decided against it. If the email went to some random officer, chances were they’d take one look at it and dismiss it as spam. He knew that the detective was smarter than that, though. It needed to go directly to him. A quick check of the Son’s database found him the detective’s personal email and he started writing up his message. It was simple and slightly vague, but it needed to be. The last thing he wanted was for the Sons to see the email and figure out his intentions before it could go through. Detective Luna needed to see it. Hopefully he would be able to figure out its meaning before it was too late.

With a shaking hand, Doctor Matthews clicked send.

—

Pedro cradled his head in his hands and sighed. Ten days, and every single lead they’d found had dead-ended within the day. He had no idea what to do. The hopelessness that he’d been trying to ignore was like a physical ache in his gut, slowly creeping up and tearing him apart from the inside. The longer he took, the more Roxy was tormented. The more she was tormented, the harder it would be to get her back on her feet. There was only so much therapy could do in such an extreme situation, after all. Roxy would already be haunted by this for the rest of her life, there was no doubt about that. The longer he took, the worse it would be.

He shook his head and growled. He needed to stop thinking like that. Roxy was strong, a lot stronger than the average kid her age. She’d already survived werewolf and hunter attacks and walked away with her smile intact. He needed to have faith that she would be able to bounce back from this too, no matter how long it took. There would be an adjustment period, of course, but he needed to have faith that she would be able to smile and laugh with her friends again, someday. No, it wasn’t a matter of faith. He knew. He knew that she would get through this. She might have a few more scars and a bucketload of new trauma to process, but if he knew Roxanne Kindley, then he knew she would make it through.

She had to. The alternative was too much to stomach.

His laptop chimed. He looked up. He had an email, sent to his personal account, not his work one. He was about to ignore it, but he paused when he saw the subject.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

RK

His curiosity piqued, he opened the email fully. It was just two lines of seemingly random numbers, a few dashes and dots mixed in. The sender was also just a garbled mash of numbers and letters in the vague shape of an email address. He was surprised it wasn’t marked as spam, honestly. His first instinct was to assume it was just that, spam, and move on, but that subject line gave him pause. RK. He could think of a few things that could stand for, but only one was really relevant to him. He gave the contents of the email a bit more consideration. Two lines of numbers, each eight numbers long, occasionally broken up by a dash or a dot. What could those numbers be? What was the intention here?

On a complete whim, he decided to copy-paste the numbers into his search bar. The result was a map location, right there in Dewsbury. So they were coordinates, then. Where were they indicating? He zoomed in and singled out the location to an address on Shepperton Street. There was a business marker for it. ‘Sunny’s Used Goods,’ a pawn shop that, as far as he’d seen, never really got much business but had somehow still managed to stay open since the turn of the century.

He froze. It couldn’t be that obvious, could it? Sunny’s Used Goods? Surely that wasn’t the location of the outpost. No, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? But why else would that location be sent to him of all people in such a vague way, with the subject line being Roxy’s initials, no less? Someone knew where Roxy was, and they wanted him to know as well. That was the only conclusion he could draw.

But what if it was a trap? It wouldn’t make that much sense, but the possibility was still there. The hunters wanted to use Roxy to lure in Sam, but if they somehow knew about his connection to Sam and the fact that he was a werewolf too, it wasn’t completely unreasonable that they might want to take him out before moving on to the bigger catch.

He shook his head. Whether or not it was a trap didn’t matter. He had a lead as to the location of the outpost, and he had to see it through, regardless of what it might mean for him. He got up from his desk and stepped out of his office, making his way down to the car park. Once he was back in his trusty Caprice, he pulled out onto the road and made a beeline for Sunny’s Used Goods.

It wasn’t a long drive, only around five minutes, but it was enough time to consider his options. He didn’t want to make a move until he knew for sure that this place was the outpost, so he would have to do a little recon. What would he do once he’d confirmed it, though? He could either inform the police and raid the place through official channels, or let the girls know and go in, just the three of them. He would need a warrant for a police raid, but that would give the hunters time to potentially jump ship if they caught wind of it, which obviously wasn’t an option. Raiding it with just the three of them would mean a much higher chance of things going wrong, though. Still, that was what he’d been training them for, wasn’t it? Besides, he knew Sam wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t let her participate in the rescue. It would be risky bringing her along, given the hunter’s real goals, but she would also no doubt prove indispensable in the very likely possibility that combat broke out. She was, by far, the best melee combatant out of the three of them, given the strength bestowed upon her by the ritual. Leif was a good shot, but her close-quarters ability was a little lacking, not to mention the fact that she’d never killed anyone before. If she hesitated at the wrong time, it could spell disaster for them. Would her conviction to save Roxy be enough? Oh well, he could think about that later. He was here.

Pedro parked his car a few buildings away and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the glovebox, slipping them on. He also took off his coat and pulled on a different jacket that he’d left lying in the back seat. The last thing he wanted was to get recognised by any potential hunters inside the store.

He stepped out of his car and walked up to the building. It was pretty nondescript on the outside; a couple windows displaying various wares and a sign above the door with the name of the store. A glance through the window showed that the store was empty aside from the man at the till, who was reading a book. He walked around the side of the building down an alley, following the sound of mechanical whirring. Situated at the back of the building was a massive AC unit, far bigger than would be necessary to supply the store with air conditioning. That was a pretty solid point in the outpost column. He had no doubt that if he requested the electricity bill records for the building, he would find them to be ridiculously out of proportion with the expected usage for a building of this size. He walked back around to the front of the store and hesitantly stepped inside, trying not to flinch at the sudden high-pitched bell that assaulted his ears.

The man at the till only briefly glanced up before going back to his book. Pedro pretended to peruse through the wares on display while he analysed the man. While his demeanour was relaxed, there was definitely an underlying tension there. The way he held himself was all too familiar. There was something about the hunter’s particular brand of training that caused most of the people who went through it to develop similar tells. Another point in the outpost column. Still, he couldn’t be sure until he had definitive proof.

He browsed for a few minutes, trying to see if he could pick up any more clues. He brought out his wolf and tested the air with his nose, trying to pick out any familiar scents that might be giveaways. There was one that he vaguely recognised, the same scent that had been all over Leif when she’d walked into training a few weeks ago that everyone had made fun of her for. That didn’t really tell him much, though. The girl in question might have just come in briefly to actually peruse the pawnshop. He really hoped that Leif wasn’t unknowingly dating a hunter.

After a few minutes, the back door opened and another man walked out. Pedro turned his back so they couldn’t see his face and listened in to their conversation.

“Oh, hi John. Are you my relief?”

“Yep. Anything to report?”

“Ah, not much. Ms Harrison came by earlier, asking to see her dad.”

“Yeah, I saw her leading the prisoner to the infirmary after her training. Man, the smell was disgusting. The whole second floor smelt like a barbeque. Ms Harrison was white as a sheet.”

“Yeah, she looked a little shaken up when she left. Do you think she’ll squeal? Wasn’t she friends with the prisoner before we took her?”

“Nah, she’s devoted. Probably just felt sick from the stench. Seriously, Emmerich comes up with some real nasty punishments. I’m honestly surprised the girl is still alive.”

“Yeah,” the man laughed. He laughed. Pedro almost couldn’t hold back his growl. “Man, I’m glad he didn’t train me.”

Pedro had heard enough. He left without looking back. He found her. After ten days, he’d finally found her. Now, all he needed to do was save her.

Simple, right?

—

Roxy groaned, trying her best not to move while simultaneously wanting desperately to curl up into a ball. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so bad. It felt like her skin was still burning. The smell was stuck in her nose, the disgustingly appetising scent of her own cooking flesh. She wanted to puke, but there wasn’t really anything in her stomach to throw up, yesterday’s bowl of scrambled eggs no doubt long gone. What she wouldn’t give for a decent meal. She never wanted to see scrambled eggs again in her life.

Brooke. It was Brooke’s fault she was in here. It explained so much; why the girl had been acting weird, and how the hunters had known where she was going to be despite Sam not picking up on any new stalkers. Brooke was a hunter. Brooke gave them her location and let them kidnap her. She was Leif’s girlfriend. Was that all just a ruse to get close to her? Her mind was still reeling from the shock.

Was she aware of everything? Did she know how Roxy would be treated? It didn’t seem like it. The girl had a good poker face, but nothing could cover up the horror in her eyes when she’d first walked into Emmerich’s office. Was she just being manipulated as well, just another poor, brainwashed victim? It didn’t feel like she was much of a victim, when she was out there, completely unharmed, while Roxy was suffering every day. How long had it been? If she was being honest, it felt like months, though she knew that couldn’t be right. They hadn’t been feeding her enough for it to have been that long yet. Honestly, it couldn’t realistically have been longer than a few weeks. Still, it felt like she’d been down there forever. God, she missed Sam so much.

The door opened. Feeding time, once again. Roxy picked herself up off of the floor, gingerly settling into a seated position. She watched silently as Emmerich walked in and placed a tray on the ground. She didn’t dare make a move until he gave her permission.

“Dinner time, Roxanne. You may eat.”

With his approval, Roxy slowly made her way towards the tray, every movement causing her an immense amount of pain despite how careful she was trying to be. Emmerich turned to leave, muttering one more thing before he closed the door; something that stopped Roxy in her tracks.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

The door slammed shut, echoing around the silent room. It… it was her birthday? That couldn’t be right, surely. She considered it. As far as she’d been able to tell, it had been at least a week since her kidnapping. She’d been taken a little after midnight on the 14th of July. If it was her birthday, that made it the 24th. Ten days had passed. Had it really only been ten?

She was seventeen now. The thought shook her to her core. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t right. She was supposed to drive out into the country with Sam, Leif, and Ross on her birthday to stargaze. Instead, she was locked in a cage like an animal, being tortured. Her only 17th birthday was passing her by. She looked over to the tray. There were two slices of buttered toast on it, along with the usual cold scrambled eggs. Emmerich’s idea of a gift, she supposed.

The realisation set in and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Her food sat untouched as she sobbed, an incredible sadness that she hadn’t allowed to take hold finally breaking through her barriers and tearing her apart from the inside. It was her birthday, and she was missing out on it. She was being tortured on it. She screamed in utter anguish until her voice just gave out with barely more than a squeak, ten days worth of torment finally catching up to it. Even still, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It was too much. She couldn’t stay strong anymore. She’d tried so, so hard not to let herself break down, but she just couldn’t do it anymore.

Was she ever going to get out? Would she ever be found? Would her parents just have to live without ever knowing what happened to their daughter? Would Sam just have to accept that she was gone and move on?

No

No, she couldn’t just give up like that. No matter how bad things got, she couldn’t. She couldn’t let them beat her, break her spirit. She wiped her eye, sniffling back any more tears that threatened to spill, before grabbing a slice of toast and biting into it. She needed to keep her energy up as best she could. The second she let go of her hope was the second that they won. It didn’t matter how obedient Emmerich got her to be, it didn’t matter how utterly terrified she was at every moment of messing up and getting hurt again. She needed to stay hopeful that she would see the sky again.

One thing was certain, though.

She couldn’t keep waiting for other people to find her. There was no guarantee that they would, and she would just be suffering for nothing. The only one she could rely on was herself.

She resolved herself, taking another bite of her toast. She wouldn’t stay here for another day longer. She was going to escape, or she was going to die trying.

—

Leif sat on the couch and waited, her whole body as tense as a readied bow. Sam was beside her, in a similar state of tension. Her fists were clenched and she looked like she was trying to bore a hole through the floor with the intensity of her gaze. Pedro had called a meeting at Sam’s house, and Leif had a pretty good idea of what it might mean. Even Ross was there, sitting across from the two girls in an armchair and looking a little awkward. She didn’t have the foggiest clue why, though.

“Ross.” Sam’s voice was sharp. She was still staring at the floor.

The boy straightened in his chair and looked up. He seemed nervous. “Y-yeah?”

Sam met his gaze and her face softened considerably. “I… I’m sorry for how I treated you the other day. That was wrong. I let my stress about Roxy’s situation get the better of me, and I-I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

A bit of previously unnoticed tension dropped from the boy’s shoulders. He laughed awkwardly, though it quickly trailed off. “N-no, it’s okay. I get it. A-and you were right, anyway. I had no idea what the stakes were until you… until you told me. The… the only reason I stormed off was to… to hide how shocked I was about it. I wasn’t mad at you.”

Sam suddenly stood up and walked over to him. Leif smirked. She knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Wh-what is it?”

Sure enough, Sam picked him straight up off of the chair and into one of her signature bear-hugs. Ross made an incredibly unflattering and high-pitched noise in response and Leif couldn’t help but smile. There was nothing like a Sam-hug to patch up a disagreement.

“Thanks for being cool, dude,” Sam said as she put him down.

“Y-yeah, no… n-no problem,” he replied, seemingly struggling to catch his breath. No matter how much he joined them in their physical training, his stamina never really improved all that much. He’d always been more of the brainy type, anyway.

Sam’s head suddenly snapped to the door like a dog that heard a car door slam three houses down. Pedro must have arrived. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the door opened and the man in question walked in. “Ah, good, you’re all here.”

Sam immediately jumped into the fray. “Is this about Roxy? Do you have anything?”

Pedro held a hand up and spoke in a slow, clear voice. “Sam, I need you to sit down, okay?” He looked to each person in the room in turn, the intensity in his eyes piercing through Leif’s soul and causing her heart rate to spike. She had the inexplicable urge to bare her neck. “I need you all to stay calm and listen to everything I have to say before you speak up, got it?”

Sam swallowed and slowly obeyed his command with uncharacteristic submissiveness. Once she was back in her seat, Pedro shut his eyes and nodded, taking a breath. When he opened his eyes again, they were bright amber. “I know where the outpost is.” Right as his sentence was finished, he immediately held up his hand again and stifled the wave of questioning that was about to burst forth from everybody in the room. “It’s underneath a pawn shop on Shepperton Street. I’ve also confirmed that they’re the ones who have Roxy. I know everyone’s eager to go get her, but we can’t just jump in there without any equipment or plan. That would just end in us getting blasted to pieces. I’ve called Duncan, he can have supplies and a vehicle delivered by tomorrow morning at the earliest, so that’s when we’ll go. There will be enough equipment for each of us, but if you don’t feel up to the task, I won’t force you. That being said, if you do feel up for it, raise your hand. Don’t speak, I’m not finished.”

Unsurprisingly, everybody in the room raised their hand. Leif knew what it would mean to go with them, but she was undeterred. She’d been trained by Pedro and Clarissa for the express purpose of being able to fight back against hunters. She knew it would be dangerous, but frankly, she didn’t give a shit. Roxy was fighting for her life every day. Leif wasn’t going to let her fight alone any longer.

Pedro nodded solemnly. “Alright. I expected nothing less from you all. As of right now, we don’t have a solidified plan of attack, but I do at least have roles for all of you. Ross, you’re the driver. You’ll stay in the car at all times, ready to get us out of there as soon as we come out. Sam, you’ll be leading the charge. I’ll be blunt here, you’re not a good shot, but your skills in close-quarters combat are beyond comparison. The hunters won’t be expecting us at first, but they’ll quickly mobilise into defence formation. You’ll need to charge ahead faster than they can aim at you and take them out before they get the chance to fight back. Do you think you can do that?”

Sam nodded resolutely, without an inch of hesitation. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ll be providing cover fire for you and jumping in where I’m needed. My wolf isn’t all that strong though, so you’ll be our primary offence. Leif?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be hanging behind us on medic duty. You’ll carry all our medical supplies and patch us up if we get injured. We have no idea what state Roxy will be in, either, so your job will be to take care of any urgent injuries she might have.”

“B-but, I don’t know the first thing about medical care!”

“I’m not asking you to perform surgery, you just need to help us stop the bleeding in a pinch if we get injured. Sam and I will most likely be able to heal anything pretty quickly, anyway, and we’ll be heading straight to the hospital afterwards. The hunters only use silvered bullets on hunts, so we’ll still be able to heal if we get shot anywhere non-vital. We’ll also be wearing bullet-proof vests, so hopefully, you shouldn’t have too much to worry about.”

“R-right…”

“You’ll have a gun, but I only want you to use it as a last resort. You’re the only one on the attack team who hasn’t killed anyone before, and that’s not an easy thing to do, nor can I ask it of you. Only use it if it’s absolutely necessary.”

Sam stiffened beside her. Leif paused, a cold feeling in her gut. “W-wait, does that mean…” She turned to the blonde werewolf next to her. “Sam? Have you…?”

Sam’s voice was hard and offered no room for argument. “What do you think happened to the hunters who stabbed me?”

Leif… hadn’t actually thought about that. “...Oh.”

“What Sam did was self-defence,” Pedro said. “Being a werewolf means accepting that protecting yourself and the ones you love doesn’t make you a bad person, even if you have to kill to do it. Hunters will continue to hunt us no matter what we do or say to them. Letting a hunter get away after they’ve identified you as a werewolf is the same as inviting them to come hunt down your family. We have no choice but to kill them in order to survive.”

“I… I understand that… It just… took me by surprise a little.”

Sam put a hand on her thigh. “I get it, Leif. It took me by surprise when it happened, too.”

Leif took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m… sorry you had to go through that. It must have been hard.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Thanks.”

“Now, back on track,” Pedro called everyone’s attention back to him. “Unfortunately, due to how public Roxy’s disappearance is, there’s no way to avoid law enforcement catching wind of us rescuing her, but don’t worry, I’ve got a plan for that. When we take her to the hospital, only the two of you are gonna go in with her. I’ll get back to the station and change into my uniform before coming to the hospital and pretending to take your statements. You’ll give me an abridged version of the truth, barring anything about werewolves or how you got your weapons, and we’ll use that information to go and conduct an official raid on the place and shut it down for good. Obviously, you two breaking in and saving her on your own isn’t exactly the most legal thing in the world, but if it comes out that I helped, it’ll be ten times worse. If it’s just you two, you’ll be hailed as heroes by the town, and I seriously doubt anyone will press charges. I’ll also make sure I destroy their surveillance room to ensure there isn’t any footage of me there. It’ll still be a little dubious, but given the publicity of the case, it’s the best chance we’ve got if we wanna do it our way.”

“Why don’t we just let the police handle it in the first place, if we already know where they are?” Ross asked, speaking up for the first time since Pedro arrived.

“I’m pretty sure Sam would cut off my head if I didn’t let her be part of the rescue, and our way is the only way to do that.” His voice suddenly dropped into a much more serious tone. “Besides, I’d like to get some retribution for Roxy myself, and I won’t get to do that if the police are-”

He was suddenly cut off by the sound of Leif’s phone loudly ringing from her pocket. She pulled it out and, seeing Brooke’s contact, was about to decline it, but Pedro intervened.

“Hold on. That’s your girlfriend, right?”

“Y-yeah?” Leif answered.

“What’s her last name again?”

“Uh, Harrison. Why?”

A million emotions flashed across Pedro’s face all at once before he finally settled on determination. “Answer it on speaker. Everyone else, stay quiet.”

“What? Why?” Leif demanded.

“Just do it. I have a hunch.”

Confusion absorbed every inch of her being, but Leif did as she was told and answered the call. She was about to give a greeting, but Brooke cut her off before she could say anything.

“Leif?! Leif, I really need to talk to you. It’s important!”

“Woah, woah, hey, calm down. What is it?” Leif responded. Pedro was listening in rather intently. A weird feeling started brewing in her gut.

“Not over the phone. Are you home right now?”

Okay, little bit of a red flag. “No, I’m at Sam’s.”

“Could you come home, please? It’s…” There was an extensive pause. “It’s about Roxy.”

The ambient tension in the room suddenly shot straight through the roof. Leif had a horrible feeling that she was beginning to understand why Pedro told her to answer the phone. Her hands started to shake, but she fought to keep her voice as steady as she could. “Brooke… If… If you’re saying… What I think you’re saying… Then you need to come to Sam’s. Right now.”

Everything was beginning to piece together in her head. Brooke’s weirdness around Roxy. Her hostility towards Sam. The fact that Pedro had perked up when he heard her last name. Brooke suddenly needing to talk to her about Roxy, but not over the phone.

She was a hunter. She had something to do with Roxy’s kidnapping. She was there when Roxy said she’d be working late. She’d been the one to tell the hunters when and where to get her. An anger the likes of which she’d never felt in her life suddenly burst into life inside of her. She was dating a fucking hunter. Was it all just a lie to get close to Roxy? What the fuck?!?!?!?

“I… I can’t do tha-”

“Brooke, I don’t give a FUCK. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Come to Sam’s, RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW!”

The silence in the room was like a physical thing. Brooke’s voice shook when she next spoke. “B-but… but Sam will-”

“SAM-”

Sam’s hand on her shoulder cut her off. “Leif, you need to take a breath and calm down.” She took the phone from Leif’s hands and held it up to her mouth. “Brooke, if you have information about Roxy and you’re willing to share it, come to my house. I’m assuming you know what I am, and what that might mean for you given what I now know that you’ve done, but I promise I won’t hurt you if you come over and cooperate, as much as I very much want to. All I want is to get Roxy back. If you can help with that, I’ll be willing to see past you being the reason she’s being fucking tortured.”

Her voice was flat and intense. Brooke was silent for a long time before she replied. “I understand. I’ll be there soon, and… and I’ll tell you everything.”

The phone clicked and the call ended. The room was silent. It felt like Leif’s whole world was crashing down around her. She was dating the person who got her best friend kidnapped and tortured. It didn’t matter what reason she had, that was the simple truth. She trusted Brooke, and Brooke betrayed her.

Brooke betrayed her.

Leif broke down crying.

—

Pedro sighed. What a shit situation this was. He could hear Leif bawling her eyes out in the other room, Sam and Ross doing their best to comfort her. The poor girl must be absolutely devastated. To put your faith into someone only to have them betray you in such an awful way, Pedro couldn’t even imagine it. From his understanding, that girl was the reason for all of the pain and hardship that Roxy was going through, even if she was remorseful about it. Her feelings didn’t change the facts of the situation. Pedro was struggling to stifle his anger about it all, but he did his best to keep a level head. He would let the girl explain herself, and see what information she had to offer. She had insider knowledge of the outpost, and even if it was mostly stuff that Pedro already knew, every little bit was important. If there was a way to mitigate the risk involved with saving Roxy, he needed to take it.

There was a knock on the door accompanied by a familiar scent. Pedro steeled himself, resolving not to growl at the girl, and opened it. She stood before him, a perfectly neutral expression on her face. She looked completely unperturbed, but from the sound of her heartbeat and the scent of her sweat, he could tell it was just an alarmingly good front. The girl was terrified, and if he thought about it, it made sense. If she was a hunter, she was likely raised learning that werewolves were evil beasts who ate people, and yet here she was, walking into the belly of the beast with a straight face. Inexplicably, his respect for the girl went up a little, even as the scent of his missing packmate on her hands made his blood boil.

Wordlessly, he stepped aside and allowed her entrance to the house. She walked into the living room and turned to him, clearly waiting for further instruction. He pointed to the couch. “Take a seat.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, doing as he asked.

His fists clenched. There was nothing he hated more than all of that ‘delegation’ bullshit that the hunters insisted on instilling in their members. It had taken months to get Duncan out of the habit of saying it whenever someone asked him to do something, and he expected Roxy was going to struggle with the same thing. Still, though, he couldn’t bring himself to chide her for it. It was important that she was aware of who was in charge in this situation.

He took a seat across from her and waited for the others to arrive. He could hear quiet conversation in the other room, so he expected it wouldn’t be too long before Leif was calm enough to join them again. Still, he decided he might as well get a head start on the questioning. Sam would be able to hear well enough, either way.

“Your name is Brooke Harrison, yes? You’re a member of the Sons?” he asked. Brooke nodded, so he continued. “What’s your position in their establishment?”

“I-I’m an outpost head in training. My… My father is the current head.”

Pedro nodded. “That explains a bit.”

At that moment, Sam and the others re-entered the room. The moment Sam’s eyes locked onto Brooke, a powerful wave of anger swept across the room. She must have detected Roxy’s scent on her hands. Pedro hoped he wouldn’t have to try and restrain her from attacking the girl. Leif was glaring at her resolutely, though it was clear that she had been crying. Brooke seemed to notice that, and made an expression like a kicked puppy.

Sam crossed her arms. Her eyes were red. “Have you hurt Roxy?” Clearly, she had absolutely zero intention of beating around the bush. Pedro didn’t blame her. He’d like to know the answer to that question as well.

Brooke’s eyes widened in fear and she put her hands up in a placating gesture. “N-no! No way! I would never do that!”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “Then why is her scent all over your hands?”

“I- I… Wh-what?!” she asked, checking her hands as though some visible trace of Roxy remained on them. “N-no, I-I just brought her to the i-infirmary today. She… Sh-she grabbed my hand… I… I held onto it b-because I thought it would make her feel better.”

A rumbling growl echoed from Sam’s throat. “You thought it would make her feel better? What, were you starting to feel bad about the fucking torture you’re subjecting her to?”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know they were going to hurt her! I swear!”

“But you did give the hunters details about where she would be and when, so that they could kidnap her, correct?” Pedro asked, butting in before Sam could get too heated.

Brooke deflated, an immensely guilty scent radiating off of her. “...I did.”

“Why?”

“My… m-my dad told me that Sam had brainwashed her. H-he said that they were going to help get rid of it so she could th-think for herself again. B-but, they’re not helping her… M-my dad was trying to hide it from me, but I snuck in today and s-saw it. I-it was so awful.”

The girl was breathing heavily, clearly struggling to hold back her emotions. Sam scoffed bitterly, clearly trying to cover her own emotions about what Brooke had just said. “I brainwashed her? Do you really believe that? Do you seriously believe that I have some mystical ability to control people?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore! I’ve been taught for my entire life that werewolves are evil and that the Sons are protecting people by killing them, but today I saw a man that I’ve looked up to for years fucking branding my friend with a hot piece of metal like she was some kind of animal! The good guys don’t do shit like that! B-but my dad told me that a werewolf killed my mother, a-and that you killed Father Thompson, a-a-and I just don’t know who to believe! Was everything he said a lie? O-or is Mr. Emmerich doing the right thing by hurting Roxy? I just don’t-”

Pedro had to lunge as fast as he could to grab Sam’s arm before she could strike Brooke. Even then, the force of the blow almost pulled him off of his feet. He threw her back and snarled at her. “Sam! You’re not helping!”

She ignored him. “Doing the right thing?! Do you even understand the amount of pain Roxy’s been going through every single day?! In what fucking universe is that ‘the right thing’? Us werewolves just want to live in peace and be left the hell alone, but instead we’re hunted down and killed, just for existing, and you think that the hunters are doing the right thing?” She laughed madly, even as tears began to pour down her cheeks. “You know what? I admit it! I did kill that ‘Father Thompson’ guy. I tore his fucking throat out with my teeth! You wanna know why? Because he murdered my parents, right in front of me. He shot my mother in the fucking head and made me watch! I wasn’t even four years old! I didn’t get told by some third party about what happened, I had to watch it. He shot her and fucking laughed about it!! And you’re telling me you can’t decide if werewolves are the bad guys because your dad just told you that one killed your mom? Guess what, fuck-head! He was probably the one that fucking killed her!”

Silence fell over the room, thick and heavy with emotion. Sam collapsed to her knees, quietly hiccuping as she cried, her energy clearly spent. Brooke was crying, too. Ross looked like he was about to throw up and Leif didn’t seem entirely present, just staring at an innocuous spot in the middle distance. Pedro sighed. That got out of hand a lot quicker than he’d hoped.

“I’m sorry…” Brooke muttered. “I’m so so sorry for what I’ve done. I… I’ll make it up to you all, I swear. I’ll… I’ll tell you how to get into the outpost. I-it’s on Shepperton Street, under-”

“I know where it is,” Pedro interrupted. “I figured it out this afternoon. We’re going in tomorrow morning. Our only issue is that we don’t have a way in aside from brute force, and we don’t know exactly where in the outpost Roxy is.”

Brooke swallowed thickly and nodded. “R-right. I can… I can draw you a map. As far as I know, Roxy’s being kept on the second floor, in one of the cells. If she’s not in one of those, she’ll either be in Mr Emmerich’s office or the infirmary. Other than that, I’m not sure.”

Pedro nodded and pulled out his notepad, jotting the details down. Brooke continued. “As for a way in… I do have one idea. Every now and then, a group of inspectors comes from HQ to… well, inspect, and make sure everything’s as Father Superior intended. There’s no warning when they come, so if you can pose as them, it should be convincing enough to get you in. They wear suits and sunglasses, kind of like secret service agents, and they have to give a passcode to the soldier at the door so he knows who they are. The code is ‘laudate lucem solis.’ I-it means ‘praise the light of the black sun,’ or something along those lines. Uh… Sam?”

Sam didn’t look up. “What?”

“You might need to… um… disguise yourself, if you’re going in. Everyone in the outpost knows your face. All of the soldiers are told to keep an eye out for a tall blonde girl with blue eyes and a scar on her face.”

Sam grunted. “I’ll figure something out.”

“A-and… And L-Leif?”

Leif set her jaw and looked over to her. It was clear she was trying to keep the anger out of her expression. Brooke withered under her stare. “You… you might want to do something about your hair. Th-there’s no way an inspector would dye their hair an unnatural colour.”

“Ava has a stash of brown hair dye under the bathroom sink. We can use it to disguise ourselves. Though, it’ll only last for me until I shift,” Sam mumbled.

Confusion shot across Leif’s face. “Why does Ava have brown hair dye? Isn’t that her natural colour?”

Sam shrugged. “She’s actually a redhead. She’s been dyeing it for as long as I can remember.”

Leif ‘hmm’ed in acknowledgement. Pedro stood up and put his notepad away. “Alright. If that’s everything, I’m gonna go and buy some suits for us before the mall closes. You two, get started on the hair dye. Also, send me your measurements or sizes if you can. I doubt an ill-fitting suit will look convincing. Ross, you can come with me and give me a hand. You,” He shot Brooke a glare. “Get started on that map. I want it delivered here by tomorrow morning, nine at the latest.”

Sam and Leif both silently nodded and made their way up the stairs. Ross got up and followed him as he walked out the front door. He held it open until Brooke got the idea and walked out as well. He was about halfway to his car when Brooke called out to him.

“Um, sir?”

He turned to her. “What?”

“I-I…” She faltered, looking down at her hands before resolving herself and meeting his gaze again. “I know that my dad… has done some really bad things, a-and hurt people that you care about, b-but…”

Pedro sighed. “You’re asking me to spare his life, aren’t you?”

Brooke nodded, looking down. Pedro was conflicted. On one hand, this man was actively supporting - and most likely contributing to - the torture of a child. On the other hand, the girl in front of him was also just a child, a child who had already lost her mom and didn’t want to lose the only person she had left.

He grit his teeth. “Look, when we go in there tomorrow, I’m not going to be trying to kill anyone. I just want to save Roxy, but if anyone tries to get in the way of that goal, I won’t hesitate. This is life or death, kid. I won’t make a point of going after your father, but if he gets in my way, I’ll do what I have to do.”

Brooke’s shoulders tensed. “R-right.”

Pedro got into his car and shut the door. He put the key in the ignition and turned the car on, feeling it rumble through his soul as the engine came to life. Tomorrow, Roxy was going to be saved. He could finally complete his promise to Damien, and to himself.

Tomorrow, everything will finally be over.