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The voice crackling through the intercom cuts Leon off mid-breath.
"Leon. We've got a situation upstairs. The shipment's early and customs is asking questions."
He doesn't move. Just stares at me like he's still deciding whether I'm worth the trouble. The needle's on the counter behind him, empty now, whatever he shot into his arm already working or not working through his system. I can't tell. His pupils are still blown wide and there's sweat on his temples but his hands aren't shaking anymore.
"Leon."
"Copy." He hits the intercom without looking away from me. "Stall them. I'll be up in five."
The static cuts out. The basement goes quiet again except for the hum of the fridge units and my own pulse hammering in my ears. He moves fast. Grabs a jacket off the back of a chair and shrugs into it, covering the veins still standing out on his forearms. Then he stops at the base of the stairs and turns.
"Don't touch anything."
I don't answer. Don't nod. Just stand there with my arms wrapped around myself because the concrete's cold and I left my hoodie upstairs in the break room and I'm not giving him the satisfaction of asking for it back.
"I mean it, Ivy." His voice drops. Not a threat exactly. More like a warning. "Some of this stuff will kill you faster than I could."
"Then maybe you shouldn't leave me down here."
"Maybe." He almost smiles. "But you'll run if I bring you up. And I'm not done with you yet."
He takes the stairs two at a time. The door at the top slams. I hear the lock click over.
I'm alone.
Okay. Okay. I can work with this.
I move fast. The lab's bigger than I thought. What I saw before was just the front section, the sterile counters and centrifuges and the chemical fridge. There's a second room through an open doorway, darker, lit only by the glow of a computer monitor and a small red bulb over what looks like a freezer unit. I go there first. The monitor's locked but the screen shows a live feed. Four different camera angles. The parking lot. The front lobby. The third floor hallway outside Leon's office. And the loading dock where a semi's backed up and two men in Moonclaim uniforms are talking to someone in a customs jacket.
No cameras down here. Interesting.
I pull open the nearest drawer. Vials. Dozens of them, all labeled in Leon's tight handwriting. Batch 3A. Batch 5C. Serum v.7—failed. Serum v.9—partial suppression, 40 min.
The one on the counter where he left the empty syringe says v.11.
I pick it up. Hold it to the red light. The liquid inside is clear but there's a faint shimmer to it, like oil on water. My stomach twists. He's been injecting himself with this. Eleven versions. How many times has he done this? How many times has it failed?
I set it down carefully and move to the freezer. It's locked with a keypad. I try his office code. Nothing. Try the building entry code. Nothing. Try 0000 like an idiot and the panel beeps angry red.
Footsteps on the stairs.
I'm back at the main counter before the door opens. Leaning against it. Casual. Like I haven't moved.
But it's not Leon.
It's a girl. Maybe my age, maybe younger. Dark hair pulled into a braid, sharp eyes, moving like she owns the place. She stops when she sees me. Her nostrils flare.
"You're the new hire."
I don't answer. She comes closer. There's a badge clipped to her belt. Rena Locke. Security consultant. The name's familiar. I've seen her upstairs a few times, always with a radio, always moving between floors like she's tracking something.
"Ivy, right?" She's not smiling. "Leon said you were helping with the filing."
"That's right."
"Filing." She looks around the lab. At the vials. The monitors. The locked freezer. "Down here."
"He needed something from storage."
"Sure he did." She tilts her head. "You're scared of him."
It's not a question. I don't give her anything. She steps closer. I can smell her now. Something clean and sharp, like pine. And underneath it, something animal. Wolf. I know that smell now. Leon's all over this place.
She stops two feet away. Staring.
"What?" I keep my voice flat.
"Nothing." But she's still staring. At my neck. I realize too late that I'm not wearing my scarf. It's upstairs with my hoodie. The birthmark's visible just above my collarbone. Small. Crescent-shaped. Dark as a brand.
Her expression changes. Hardens.
"Where are you from?"
"North."
"North where?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah." Her voice goes cold. "It does."
She moves fast. Grabs my wrist and yanks me forward before I can pull back. Her grip's iron. She shoves my collar down with her other hand and stares at the mark. I see the moment she recognizes it. Her pupils contract. Her lip curls.
"You're Hunter Clan."
I rip my arm free and backpedal. My hip hits the counter. Nowhere to go. She doesn't follow. Just stands there, breathing hard, her hands clenched.
"Does Leon know?"
I don't answer.
"Of course he knows." She laughs, bitter. "That's why you're down here. God. He's really doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Playing house with one of you." She spits the last word. "You know what your people did to his family? To all of us?"
"I wasn't there."
"Your father was."
The air goes out of my lungs.
"Victor Gray." She says it like a curse. "Hunter elder. Led the raid ten years ago that killed the old king and half the pack council. Leon's father died on his knees with a silver blade in his heart. You want to tell me you didn't know that?"
I knew. I knew the whole time. The name Ash. The dates. The massacre my father supposedly ordered. I knew and I came here anyway because I had nowhere else to go and I thought maybe, maybe they wouldn't know me. Wouldn't recognize the daughter of the man they all want dead.
I was wrong.
"My father didn't lead that raid."
"Every record says he did."
"Every record's a lie."
She stares at me. I can see her deciding. Believe me or kill me. It's that simple. Her hand drifts to her belt. There's a knife there. Silver hilt.
"Leon thinks you're useful," she says quietly. "I think you're a liability."
"Then why haven't you told the others?"
"Because Leon wants you alive. For now." She steps back. "But if you hurt him. If you so much as look at him wrong. I'll gut you myself. Mate bond or not."
She knows. She can smell it too. The bond Leon talked about. The thing pulling us together that neither of us wants.
She turns and heads for the stairs. Stops halfway.
"You're just like your father," she says without looking back.
My jaw locks. "My father is dead."
"Good."
She leaves. The door slams. I'm shaking. I sink down against the counter and press my forehead to my knees and try to breathe.
I don't know how long I sit there. Long enough for the shaking to stop. Long enough to hear footsteps upstairs. Voices. Leon's, sharp and clipped. Rena's, answering. I can't make out the words.
I should move. Should get up and figure out what the hell I'm going to do now that she knows. Now that she's going to tell everyone.
But I don't. I stay on the floor. And that's when I see it.
The vent. Low on the wall behind the freezer unit. Just big enough to crawl into if you're small. If you're desperate. I get up and crouch next to it. Peer inside. It's dark but I can see the metal shaft running horizontal, then angling up. Probably connects to the main HVAC system. Probably leads to other floors.
I hear the door unlock upstairs.
I move fast. Yank the vent grate off. It comes free with a scrape of metal. I shove it behind the freezer and crawl inside. Pull my legs in just as the basement door opens.
Footsteps. Two sets. Leon and Rena.
"I don't care what your instincts say." That's Leon. "She stays."
"You're compromised." Rena's voice is tight. "The bond's messing with your head."
"My head's fine."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you're protecting the daughter of the man who killed your father."
Silence. I hold my breath. Through the slats of the vent I can just barely see them. Leon's standing with his back to me. Rena's facing him, her phone in her hand.
"I know what I'm doing," Leon says.
"Do you?" She holds up the phone. "Because I've got twelve wolves who'd love to know she's here. One text, Leon. That's all it takes."
"You won't."
"Won't I?" But she's already lowering the phone. She's bluffing. Or testing him. I can't tell. "Just tell me why. Why her? Why now?"
Leon turns. I see his profile. The hard line of his jaw. "Because her father left something behind. A recording. And if what she says is true, everything we know about that night is wrong."
Rena goes still. "You believe her."
"I believe someone set him up. And if they did, they set us up too."
She doesn't answer. Just stares at him. Then she turns and walks out. I hear her boots on the stairs. The door closes.
Leon stays. Stands there for a long moment. Then he goes to the counter and picks up the empty syringe. His hands are shaking again.
I stay frozen in the vent. Barely breathing. Watching.
He leaves. Locks the door behind him. I wait five minutes. Ten. Then I crawl forward, deeper into the vent shaft, until I reach a junction where it splits off toward the upper floors. There's a grate here too. I can see through it into a hallway. The third floor. Executive level.
Rena's there. Standing in the hallway with her phone out. She's typing fast. Then she hits send.
I angle myself to see the screen. She's sent an image. A map. The basement layout. Every room. Every exit. The lab. The freezer. The vent system.
And the text below it says: She's here. Confirm extraction timeline.
The reply comes fast. Three words.
Two days. Midnight.
Rena pockets the phone and walks away.
I stay in the vent. Heart pounding. Hands cold.
Someone's coming for me. And Rena just told them exactly where to find me.