Logan's Choice (Dark Hollow Wolf Pack 3)

“Now what were you saying about Marco allowing me to go with you to the munitions warehouse?” Logan asked, all business.

“Uh, well, he said he and Casey wanted to go with us, but he will allow you to go too. ”

“Good. When do we leave?”

“We didn’t discuss that yet. I’d like to try right away. We’ll have to inform the council. ”

“Can you do that tomorrow?We’ve already wasted too much time. ”

“I’ll talk to Marco and Casey tonight. ”

“Good. Let me know what they say, because I won’t be there. ”

“Logan. ”

“No. I’m not in the mood. Unless you think I’m being feral and want to force me. ”

Ian considered his answer, long enough for Logan to think he was going to insist. He breathed out a small sigh of relief when Ian said, “No, Logan. Ifyou don’t want to go, then you don’t have to. ”

“Good. I’m going to turn in early and read. Wake me up when you get home. If you want t

o. ” Logan rose to his feet and walked with determination to the bedroom, leaving Ian gazing after him with a puzzled expression.

Chapter Five

Ian and Marco discussed the matter with the council, and they reluctantly agreed. They were concerned about all of their leaders being captured at once, but finally accepted Marco and Casey’s determination to go.

Two days later, they started out early in the morning. They drove to a safe spot as close to the isolated compound as they could and took a long hike in the rest of the way, certain the private road into the two hundred acres would be monitored. Ian carried Logan part of the way since he couldn’t keep up with the wolves’ supernatural speed. The compound, surrounded by a high chain link fence, was situated at the top of a flat crested hill close to the boundaries of the Nantahala National forest, the same forest which edged their land on a different side. At one end of the compound was the warehouse, a metal building approximately a hundred feet long and forty wide. At the other end, in a rough semi-circle, a long flat building comprised of quarters, cells, infirmary, interrogation rooms, and field offices. Other smaller buildings were for storage of supplies. A guard house, lit up on the inside by the dim flickering of a television, was located at the front next to a heavy steel gate. .

When they arrived well after dark on the mountainside overlooking the compound, the wolves had a hurried conference. They separated into two groups. Marco and Casey went to the perimeter of the compound, watching for any stray guards or Hunters who might be wandering around in the area. Ian turned away with a nod and motioned for Logan to follow him down the rough terrain and thick forest.

Ian and Logan picked up their gear and moved down through the night toward the fence. With the wire cutters Ian carried, they were soon inside the compound. In silence, they kept to the shadows and joined in with the darkness. Ian was jittery. Things were almost too quiet. Ian tried to shake it off as his imagination. He knew in a tense situation, especially at night, and especially when he had to worry about another man's safety, his imagination could get the better of him. The fear factor multiplied until he could begin to see things really not there and hear things all in his mind.

He squinted at the dark, but there was nothing to see. A lot of human scents surrounded them, but nothing close or fresh. A chill ran down his spine with the thought of the scent neutralizer, but he shook it off. There would be no reason for them to use it at their home base. Nerves. That's all it was.

They made it to a large, steel doorway and jimmied the lock without attracting any notice. Marco and Casey were stationed near the guard shack, watching for any movement of guards toward Ian and Logan's position. They had set up a signal on hisand Marco’s cell phones, set to vibrate if they saw or heard anything out of the ordinary.

Moving quietly, using hand motions, Logan signaled Ian to follow him into the interior of the building. An anxious feeling in Ian's chest reminded him of his own training and night hunts with the pack, fluttery and tight at the same time. He tried to measure out his breathing, take it slowly. He’d compromised his own principles in an effort to placate Logan. Nothing could happen to foul this up.

Logan was busy setting the first charge. Six sticks of dynamite, taped together and attached to a detonator. Simple, but effective. He followed Logan to four separate locations where Logan quickly set the remaining charges. At the last location, he attached the radioactivated device to set off the charges.

They made their way back to the door and stepped outside. Moonlight sparkled on the wires of the fence, and a curious layering of shadows hung all over the compound yard. The darkness was absolute. As Ian took a step toward the fence, a low pop and then a sizzle cut through the dead silence. The night exploded with light. Flares went off all around them turning the night into instant daylight. Ian shoved Logan behind him, but before he could move to shift or run, Hunters dropped from the roof on top of him. At least six men drove him to the ground. They hit him over and over in the head and back of the neck with clubs, but he fought for consciousness. He had to somehow get to Logan. He tried again to shift, but darkness crowded his brain. He cried out for Logan as another blow came down on his temple, and he knew nothing more until he awoke in darkness of a different kind.

His head, neck, and shoulders ached like hell and blood, warm and wet, seeped from his scalp and moved like sludge. He hadn’t been out long. He tried to sit up and a bright slash of pain knifed through him. Taking a deep breath, he tried again and managed to sit up in the darkness. He was on a cold, damp concrete floor. Windowless and damn near airless, and the only bit of light in the room was a small strip coming under the door. He still wore his shirt, though it was ripped into shreds around him. He tore a long strip from it to bind his head and stop the bleeding. He couldn’t imagine how things had gone so desperately wrong. He also wasn’t sure how or why he was still alive, but feared he knew the answer. More than once a wolf body mutilated by experimentation and torture had been found, usually those rogues who had refused to join a pack and lacked the protection of one.

His mind went to Logan and another, deeper pain slashed through his body. If they’d hurt Logan he didn’t think he could survive. He didn’t believe they would have killed him— at least not until they had a chance to question him. Surely they wouldn’t have harmed him out of hand. He was Elias Winters’ only son, after all, even if Elias had literally thrown his son to the wolves.

As his eyes adjusted a bit to the light, he got unsteadily to his feet and, with a hand on the wall for support, managed to move slowly around the small room. By pacing it off, he found it was approximately fifteen feet square. As he thought, there were no windows and only one steel door locked from outside. A bucket stood in one corner and a large pan of water by the door. He smiled grimly. A pan of water for a dog. Perhaps the Huntersweren’t quite as humorless as he’d always thought. They did, at least, provide a bucket to piss in.

He dipped his hand in the pan and tasted the water, finding it fairly fresh. By scent and taste it seemed harmless. He drank from his cupped hand, worried over what happened to Marco and Casey and hoped they hadn’t been taken. He figured the Hunters would come soon to interrogate him or finish him off. Either way, he was impatient for something to happen.

He thought of Logan again and wondered what they’d done with him . He wondered how Logan would handle his father. Had Logan seen his father? Did his father know yet he’d been turned to Werekin and mated to a man? How would he take that? How would Logan take his father knowing he was in what they termed an unnatural homosexual relationship? Would Logan try to use his influence with the man to have himself released or returned to duty? Fuck, how would Logan live without a wolf to feed him? Too many questions and Ian had no answers.

He had no illusions about his release, either, no matter what Logan might say to his father. Hunters would never release a wolf prisoner alive. Torture them to death for information and kill them when they thought they had all they’d get or use them for sadistic and brutal experiments, but never release them.

He thought back to the time of their capture. No signal of any kind had come from Marco and Casey to warn of their approach. The Hunters had been waiting for them, doused in their scent neutralizer. That would mean they had known they were coming, but who could have tipped them off? No one had known about the mission except the members of the council—and Logan. His mind shied violently away from the idea of Logan having anything to do with a trap. Logan couldn’t—wouldn’t—have betrayed him. Would he? Had all their time together been a fucking lie?

Ian shook his head, trying to dispel his suspicions. Even if Logan had wanted to warn the Hunters of the attack, how could he have done it?He’d been under close supervision the entire time he’d been with the wolf pack. There weren’t any landline phones in the compound. Only a few of the pack even had cell phones. Leaders like Marco—and himself! The thought of Logan sneaking around to use his phone came into his head unbidden, and he forced it out. Logan wouldn’t betray him, even if he hadn’t kept his phone locked up, even if Logan had been in a room alone with it. He might not be desperately in love with Ian, but he cared for him, Ian knew he did.