25.4 | A Good Night for Bad Things

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Miles outside of headquarters, Nika ripped through the woods, trying to ignore the alarms that signaled an attack. All that drove the blaring sounds from her attention was the voice inside her mind: Wolves coming from the northwest. Veer east and stay quiet.

Nika obeyed, a puppet on strings. Thorny branches slapped her arms as she ran, and dread crept up her spine, telling her what she already knew.

This is stupid. You should turn around.

One thing pushed her onward—the bare and rare possibility that this wasn't a trap. If there was any chance of saving Lu tonight, then she wouldn't hesitate to seize it. She wouldn't even make a plan.

Nika laughed at herself. Impulsive, Ren had called her. She hoped he would forgive her for breaking that promise, hoped she would survive the night to see his angry scowl.

One foot in front of the other, she pushed on. So fast and fervently that she couldn't slow down after breaking through the trees, and nearly hurled off the edge of a rugged drop.

The ravine.

As her toes dangled in the air, Nika peered down. Vicious terrain greeted her. It was all dagger-like rocks, snarling vines and weeds, and a river that forked like a serpent's tongue far below. The mouth of a great beast.

She backed up, heart pounding so hard that she didn't hear the footsteps crunching toward her, didn't sense the danger until he spoke:

"I was worried you wouldn't survive those injuries. You must have had quite the feast, to flush out all that belabane."

Nika whirled on Dante. He leaned against a nearby tree, casual as ever.

"Where is she?" The words were a breathless croak.

"Lu? Oh, she couldn't come with us, unfortunately. But I assure you, she is safe. Comfortable, even."

Nika shook her head. "But . . . "

Her instincts had been correct. A trap. Lu wasn't coming, and she never had been. The voice, whatever it was, had lied.

Before Dante had a chance to move or speak again, Nika bolted. She barely reentered the thick woods when another wolfblood leapt into her path. She turned around, but Dante now stood on the sandy overhang.

Definitely a trap.

Nika raised the handgun she'd taken from Sokol, pointing it at Dante. Sensing the young man at her back pressing closer, she swiveled. Dante's feet crunched in the opposite direction.

Shit, Nika thought. Her aim was terrible to begin with, and now she faced two moving targets on either side.

She was doomed.

Dante lifted his palms in the air. "You'll be free to leave when we're done talking. Try to escape, and Sam will use force to stop you. Try to attack, and it will lead to the same result. Understand?"

"You tricked me," Nika growled.

Dante shrugged. "Trick is such a negative word. It was more like persuasion."

"You made me think it was Lu's voice. You lied."

"Yes, I stretched the truth to get you here. But not about the lack of time."

Nika pulled the trigger, but the bullet whizzed past Dante's head and over the canyon. Before she knew what was happening, his companion—Sam—tackled her to the ground.

Nika smacked the earth, a sharp spasm running through her arm. The weapon landed in the dirt several feet away, and every training lesson she'd ever had poured into her heart.

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