“That’s a statue.” He frowned. “Creepy as hell, but I can’t waste bolts.”

“Just shoot it.”

He looked at me for a moment and then took aim. The bolt flew true. Ethan swore when it didn’t bounce off a carved monster but buried deep in flesh. The gargoyle screamed, stone coming to life.

“What the hell!” Connor jumped back as the creature dove from the ledge, flying at us.

I covered my ears, thinking that my eardrums would burst from its hideous screeching. Bryn snarled, leaping to meet the creature midair. Startled by her fearlessness, the gargoyle balked, screaming its outrage. Bryn’s teeth tore through one of its wings and the creature dropped to the floor, gray milky blood oozing from its torn flesh. Sabine leapt onto its chest, pinning it to the dais. Bryn struck again, this time jerking her head fiercely when she took hold of its throat. I heard the crack of bone as the gargoyle’s neck snapped.

“It’s been watching us the whole time,” I breathed.

“Are there others?” Connor asked, turning in a swift circle, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“No, but Calla’s right. It must have been tracking our movements since we arrived,” Monroe said. “I think we may have just triggered the alarm.”

Each one of us went still, taking in the significance of Monroe’s words. Our silence was met by a low, urgent sound in the distance, like faint drumming. The scrape of nails on wrought iron, footpads hitting the steps. Coming fast, the drumming became pounding as our enemies descended from the upper level of the club.

“They’re coming for us,” Monroe said, glancing toward the door that would take us out of the prison and back up the stairs.

“Do you know of another way out?” Connor asked, looking at the wolves. My packmates glanced at each other. Sabine whimpered before she shifted forms.

“None of us have seen another exit,” she said. “That’s the way we were brought in. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes found Ethan as she apologized.

“We’re trapped down here, then,” he said, staring at Sabine as if he were weighing the possibilities of how he’d like to spend his last moments on earth.

“The rest of the pack has to be in this block,” Monroe said. “If we can free them, we’ll be able to put up a decent fight. Maybe get out of here.”

“Not all of us,” Connor said.

“We don’t have any other choice,” Monroe said.

“He’s right.” Ethan loaded new bolts into his crossbow. “Time for the last stand. Always knew it would come someday.”

“No,” Sabine said. “I’m not dying down here. I won’t give Efron the satisfaction.”

She dropped into wolf form and howled. Therest of my packmates raised their muzzles, joining her battle cry. From the levels above us I heard the answering howls of the approaching Guardians, singing out their own challenge.

The wolves’ howling seemed to revive the despondent Searchers.

“I can jam that lock!” Connor was sprinting across the room. “If it really is the only way in, it might buy us some time.”

“Good thinking,” Monroe said. “Ethan, help Connor and the wolves. Try to keep them at bay. Calla, come with me.”

I followed Monroe into the cell block, glancing back to see my packmates circling Connor and Ethan as they fiddled with the lock of the east prison door. I drew a slow breath and shivered. Beneath the harsh metallic odor of the cell block a whisper of wood smoke curled through the air.

“What is it?” Monroe asked.

“He’s here,” I whispered.

A howl from another part of the prison spilled into the cell block. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I’d recognized the cry—Mason was calling for help. Nev’s answering howl sounded a moment later. Monroe looked at me. I heard the scrabbling of toenails on flagstones, followed by barks and snarls.

“Guardians,” I said. “They’ve broken through.”

“Find him. Let him know we’re coming. I’ll tell the others—make sure they keep the fight away from here—and I’ll be back for you and the rest of your pack. I promise.”

I nodded, swallowing my fear.

Monroe drew his swords and ran back into the Chamber.

The scent pulled me to the far door on the left. Please be unlocked. Please.

I turned the knob and the door swung open. This cell was larger than the others. Sparse, bright metal illuminated by buzzing fluorescent lights running along the ceiling. I caught his scent before my eyes found him. The warmth of sandalwood and rough edge of leather made my chest ache. Without thinking, I stumbled forward, running toward a figure crouched in the far corner of the room.

“Ren!” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him against me.

“Calla,” he murmured. His forehead rested against my throat, his hands pressed into the small of my back.

“Are you hurt?” I whispered, still holding him tight, bursting with relief that he was alive.

“No.”

“Thank God.” I pulled back slightly, catching my breath, barely able to hear my own words over the pounding of my heart. “We don’t have much time. I can’t explain right now. We have to get out of here.”

Ren looked at me and suddenly I was dragged forward, crushed against him. His lips were on mine, feverish, burning into my skin. Memories rained down on me, drowning me in a flood of emotions.