Page 16 of Into the Dawn (The Devil’s Claw #3)

16

BEN

R attling the iron bars as hard as I can, I sigh before giving up and resting my forehead against them. The metal burns cold against my sensitive skin, and it feels like I’m about to burst open at the seams.

I knew this would happen, and yet the claustrophobia my beast is experiencing from being trapped in here is stronger than I imagined it could be. Something about this place sets my beast on edge in ways I can't explain.

The dark cell that Jed has shoved me into falls silent, except for my laboured breaths. Water drips a steady rhythm somewhere in the darkness, calming me and making me impatient at the same time.

The air hangs thick with old fear-scent and decay, tickling something primal in my beast. It's nothing more than compacted earth as a floor, a small worn carpet, and a mattress tossed in the corner, with metal doors that aren't going to budge, no matter how many times I throw myself against them.

"Well, this was a fucking great idea, Ben," I mutter to myself, kicking a stone through the gap in the bars with my boots. The sound echoes through the tunnels, echoing back distorted and wrong. "What the fuck do I do now?"

Other than passing out from hyperventilating, that is.

My animal is more agitated than this dire situation we find ourselves in warrants. Normally, he trusts me, but his irritation makes me feel like there’s something else I need to worry about that I’m not yet aware of. Through our bond, I catch hints of Vanessa's anxiety, but is that enough to make my beast pace this restlessly?

"That's not the attitude," somebody replies in a voice much deeper and huskier than I remember, but familiar, all the same. The sound bounces off damp walls, mixing with the steady drip of water.

"John," I croak out, as a whirlwind of emotion sweeps through me, yet none more so than pure, unadulterated relief that he’s actually alive. The stale air suddenly feels easier to breathe. At least coming here hasn't been completely for nothing.

"I'm here, Ben," he says quietly, his response scratchy and pained. Iron scrapes against earth as he moves in his cell. "And don't get me wrong, I'm glad to hear a familiar voice, but son, what have you done?"

He sounds weak and frail as he coughs.

I grit my teeth, trying not to let anger cloud my thoughts. The animal inside me rages against the general shittiness of the people who live in this god-forsaken place. My beast bristles harder than usual at John's obvious pain, my control slipping with each rattling breath he takes.

John is a good man. He raised me and Evan, and even Kali, once her dad got injured, as if we were his own. When our own shitty parents abandoned us, he gave up a relationship with the woman he loved when she didn't want to live in Sutton, because he knew that as shifters, we wouldn't survive in the city.

He gave up everything for us because he's got a heart of gold. He doesn't deserve any of this.

The musty underground air carries traces of old blood, and I can’t help but wonder how much he’s endured down here.

"Fuck, John. I'm so sorry it took us so long to find you," I say, pacing my small cell as sweat beads on my skin despite the chill. "These fucking shitheads. Are you okay? Have they hurt you?" Dragging a hand back through my hair, I shake my head. "We thought it was Scott, thought he'd killed you. And we almost stopped fucking looking."

John waits for me to finish ranting. "I'm fine."

Even in the darkness, I can smell the lie.

I hear scuffing along the ground as he struggles to get to his feet, and I grit my teeth, knowing that losing my mind to rage isn’t going to help us escape.

"What’s wrong with you?" I ask, more upset on his behalf than he seems to be. “Weak or injured?”

"I'm okay, Ben. I'm okay." He reassures me, but I notice how he hasn’t answered my question.

“So both, then.”

"Jed likes to act the big man, and I'm obviously the softest target here. But Rusty isn't the worst. He keeps them on a short leash, and he's told them I'm not to be touched."

Everyone here is scared of Rusty and will follow his instructions most of the time. But he can't be everywhere all at once.

"Why did they even take you, John?" I ask. "None of this makes fucking sense." My head pounds with too many scents, too many emotions. Something about this place is making it hard to think straight.

From around the corner, a hand appears through the bars, thin and pale, and streaked with dirt, but proof of life, nonetheless.

I grab it and shake it hard.

Skin to skin contact with the man I consider my father gives me a renewed sense of strength. He's alive. I'm here. We're gonna get the fuck out of this place and get home.

"I don't know," John says. "These guys knew I'd fend off their plans to hurt Kali, and I suspect Jed might have been involved with the missing girls. It took me longer to connect the dots back to Scott. Too long. Maybe they conspired to lock me up here and throw away the key. Or maybe, they planned to lure you and Evan up here and then pin the blame for the disappearances on you. I'm not sure what their end game was."

"This is so fucked up," I reply. "Were Scott and Jed friends?"

John's hand turns palm up, as if to say, I don't know.

"I'm going to get us out of here," I say, unable to give a fuck what their plan was. It doesn't matter now. Scott's dead, and Jed's next.

I don't mention her involvement, hopefully, in getting us out of here. This place looks rough and ready, but who's to say nobody's listening? I assume the walls have ears.

"They came after Kali," I say quietly.

John always said they would.

"I heard," John responds, sounding weary. "I also heard the commotion when they came back missing a couple of people."

It's crazy to think that Henry was here, getting statements and interviewing witnesses, yet nobody realized John was locked up underground. But I suppose burying something is the easiest way to hide its scent.

My beast bristles at the thought of being buried down here, the walls suddenly feeling closer.

"Does Evan know where you are?" John asks, a glimmer of hope in his voice. When I stay silent for a second too long, he groans, knowing full well that I haven't talked to him.

"He would have stopped me," I say stubbornly, justifying my going off on a solo run with this one. The heat under my skin is making me restless and aggressive.

John laughs. "He would have been right to."

Yeah, maybe.

"But he met somebody," I continue, struggling to keep the joy out of my voice. I'm so happy for him. "He has a mate now. And I couldn't ask him to give that up, to risk leaving her alone."

"That's brilliant," John says, his voice slightly choked up. "I hope she's good to him. And that he knows what he's got."

"She’s the best. You're gonna love her," I say. I won't ruin the surprise by telling him that Evan's mate is the daughter he doesn’t even know exists. That’s going to be a lot to process. He can find that out for himself when we get back to the Devil's Claw. "She keeps him on his toes, that's for sure."

John laughs and sighs. "What about you? Still gallivanting around the place?"

"Hmm." I growl noncommittally, my mind immediately conjuring an image of Vanessa riding me last night, her fair hair glowing from the moonlight streaming in through her window. The memory sends another wave of heat through my blood. "No gallivanting, John. You know I just like to pretend that I'm having a wild time. But no. No mate yet."

John's silent for long enough that I start to worry that he's not feeling well. But then he speaks, his voice quiet, obviously concerned with the same thing as me: that there might be listening devices planted in our cells.

"I know you still miss her," he says. "Whatever her reasons were, hear her out. Don't give up, Ben. Nobody will judge you for giving her a second chance."

A sick laugh cuts through the shadows.

My beast pushes forward at the sound, recognizing Jed before he even speaks. His scent hits me wrong, making every hair stand on end.

"What Ben isn't telling you, John, is that it's my darling sister's fault that he's in this mess in the first place," Jed says. "She kindly donated him to me and my father, in exchange for a bounty that she needs to move on with her life. Poor Ben here fell for the oldest trick in the book."

I think he's wrong—god, I hope he is—but it still stings to hear.

"And to add insult to serious injury, he's going to watch his precious Vanessa get fucked by half the clan as my dad lets them have a test run, competing for the honor of putting a pup in her belly. Who knows, I might even have a go myself."

What the fuck?

Red bleeds into my vision. My beast erupts forward before I can stop it, claws lengthening, fur sprouting along my arms. The partial shift takes me by surprise; I usually have better control than this.

"I'll fucking kill you." I snarl, voice gone guttural and strange.

In the darkness, my claws dig into the metal bars. Unable to control my reaction, my snarl fills the echoey dark chambers as my teeth descend in my mouth, and I taste blood on my tongue. My beast's rage feels excessive, even for the horrible threats against our mate.

"Easy." John warns from his cell. "Easy, Ben. He's trying to rile you up on purpose. Even Jed here knows that his father would skin him alive if he even tried to touch his sister."

Jed laughs again, a knowing and cruel sound, as he steps into the light on the far side of the corridor. "Yes, unfortunately. Father wouldn't allow such a thing while he's alive…" He leaves the end of that sentence incomplete, hanging out there.

He's planning something.

Jed wants control, and when he has it, he'll be able to do whatever the fuck he wants. And that's going to be bad news for everybody.

We need to get out of here. Soon.

My animal paces restlessly, responding to something I can't quite understand. Through our bond, I feel answering tension from Vanessa.

The sooner we get out of this hellhole, the better.