Ryan's POV
The stairwell leading to the upper floors was narrow and utilitarian, concrete and metal construction designed for function rather than comfort. Our footsteps echoed too loud despite our attempts at stealth, announcing our presence to anyone listening. But stealth was no longer an option. Speed was all that mattered now.
Blake took point, her transformation already beginning, muscles rippling beneath her skin as she prepared for combat. Connor and Claire flanked me, their own bodies shifting into combat forms, not full wolves but something in between, human intelligence combined with animal strength and reflexes. I was the only one still fully human, the weakest link in our group, the liability they were protecting.
I hated it. Hated feeling useless. But Blake was right. My job was not to fight. My job was to survive, to make sure the evidence we had gathered reached people who could use it.
We reached the second floor landing and burst through the door into another white corridor, this one wider than below, with windows on one side showing the interior courtyard. The windows were barred, but through them I could see movement in the courtyard. Guards in tactical gear, at least a dozen of them, converging on the building. We were running out of time.
Ahead, I heard sounds of combat. Snarling, shouting, the meaty thud of bodies impacting walls. We ran toward it, rounding a corner to find Marcus and his two wolves engaged with security guards. Four guards were already down, unconscious or dead, I could not tell which. Three more were backing away, weapons drawn but uncertain, their training warring with the primal fear of facing supernatural predators.
And in the center of the chaos, held by Marcus with claws at her throat, was a woman in a white lab coat. Mid forties, dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, glasses askew on her face. She was not fighting, was not even struggling. Just standing very still with the kind of calm that suggested either extraordinary courage or shock so profound it had shut down normal fear responses.
"Dr. Reeves, I presume," Blake said, approaching slowly, her voice calm despite her partial transformation.
The woman's eyes flicked to Blake, assessed her, then returned to watching the guards. "You are making a mistake. Whatever you think you know about this facility, you do not understand the larger picture. We are trying to save humanity from a threat they do not even know exists."
"By torturing people?" I said, unable to keep quiet. "By experimenting on them, breaking their minds, preserving their bodies in jars? That is your idea of salvation?"
Dr. Reeves looked at me for the first time, really looked, and something flickered in her expression. Recognition. "Ryan Kane. I know who you are. You built the surveillance system we have been using. Your code is elegant, efficient, exactly what we needed to identify and track subjects for research." She smiled, cold and clinical. "You should be proud. Your work has advanced our research by years."
I felt sick. She was right. My work has enabled this. Every victim in those preservation tanks downstairs had been found using my algorithms, had been tracked and studied and ultimately captured because I had made it so easy.
"Marcus," Blake said quietly. "Status?"
"Found her in her office, destroying files," Marcus reported, his claws still pressed against Dr. Reeves' throat, drawing tiny beads of blood. "She has been here all night, wiping servers, shredding documents. Knew we were coming somehow, or at least suspected. Got most of her data destruction finished before we breached her door."
"The evidence," I said, horror washing over me. "If she wiped the servers, did we get the files in time?"
Claire checked her USB drives, her face tight with concentration. "The research logs are intact, copied before the wipe. But financial records and personnel files are corrupted. Partial data only. Not enough to trace back to funding sources or identify everyone involved in the operation."
Dr. Reeves smiled wider. "You are too late. The important information is already gone, burned or shredded or encrypted beyond your ability to recover. You have research notes, yes. Evidence of experiments. But nothing that proves who ordered this work, who funded it, who benefits from the results. You can expose this facility, but the organization behind it will survive. Will relocate. Will continue the work somewhere else where you will not find it."
Blake moved closer, her wolf form becoming more pronounced, her features shifting toward predatory. "Then you will tell us. You will give us names, locations, everything we need to burn your entire operation to the ground."
"I will tell you nothing," Dr. Reeves said, her voice steady. "You can threaten me, torture me, kill me. It will not matter. I am a scientist. I understand sacrifice for the greater good. My death will be meaningless compared to the importance of this work."
One of the guards, young and clearly terrified, made a mistake. He raised his weapon, aimed at Blake, finger tightening on the trigger. Connor was faster, crossing the distance in a blur of motion, disarming the guard with a strike that probably broke bones. The weapon clattered across the floor.
But the sound of it falling triggered something in the other guards. Training overrode fear. They opened fire.
Bullets tore through the air, striking walls and ceiling, fragmenting into shrapnel. Blake dove for cover, pulling Dr. Reeves with her as a human shield. Marcus and his wolves scattered, using their enhanced speed to avoid the worst of the gunfire. Claire grabbed me and pulled me behind a desk as wood and metal exploded around us.
"We need to get out," she shouted over the gunfire. "Too many guards, too well armed. This was supposed to be infiltration, not a firefight."
She was right. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Even with supernatural strength and speed, bullets were still bullets. Enough hits would kill us or slow us down enough that more guards could arrive, that we would be trapped.
My phone buzzed. Text from Victor's people outside. "Police en route. Multiple 911 calls reporting gunfire. You have five minutes before sirens arrive."
Five minutes to extract, to escape, to disappear before this became a crime scene with police investigations and media coverage and questions we could not answer.
"Blake," I shouted. "Police are coming. Five minutes."
Blake's eyes met mine across the corridor, and I saw the calculation happening. We could fight our way out, leave Dr. Reeves behind, escape with the partial evidence we had gathered. Or we could try to take her with us, use her as leverage to get the information we needed. But taking a hostage meant moving slower, meant more risk, meant higher chance of getting caught.
"We take her," Blake decided. "She is our best chance at finding the people at the top of this conspiracy. Without her, we have research notes but no accountability, no way to stop this from happening again somewhere else."
Marcus nodded and tightened his grip on Dr. Reeves, his claws drawing more blood. She winced but did not cry out, maintaining her composure even as her life hung in the balance.
The gunfire had stopped, guards reloading or regrouping or calling for backup. We had seconds, maybe, before it started again.
"Connor, Claire, clear a path to the stairwell," Blake ordered. "Marcus, you carry the good doctor. I will cover the rear. Ryan, stay in the middle where we can protect you. Move on my mark."
The two wolves transformed fully this time, human bodies flowing into lupine forms. Larger than natural wolves, heavier and more muscular, designed by supernatural genetics to be perfect predators. They were beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, and even though I had seen werewolves my entire life, I was struck by the raw power they represented.
"Now," Blake said.
We ran.
Connor and Claire led, moving faster than humans could track, becoming blurs of fur and fang and fury. I heard guards shouting, heard weapons firing, heard screaming as the wolves tore through anyone who tried to stop us. Blake pushed me forward, keeping herself between me and danger, her partially transformed body absorbing hits that would have killed me.
Marcus carried Dr. Reeves like she weighed nothing, his claws wrapped around her torso, his wolf strength making her attempts to struggle useless. She had stopped trying to appear calm, fear finally breaking through her clinical detachment as she realized she was being kidnapped by monsters she had spent years studying and torturing.
The stairwell appeared ahead. Connor hit the door first, tearing it off its hinges rather than bothering to open it properly. We plunged into the stairwell, took the stairs down three and four at a time, our enhanced strength and agility turning what should have been a careful descent into a controlled fall.
First floor. The corridor where we had entered. Behind us, I heard guards following, their heavier boots pounding on stairs, their voices calling for backup, for containment, for anything that could stop us.
The loading dock door was ahead, still unlocked from our entry. Connor burst through it first, shifted back to human form as he hit open air, giving Blake and the others room to follow. We spilled out into the alley behind the facility, cold night air shocking after the climate controlled interior.
Victor's people were waiting. James and Sophia, the vampires, standing beside two vehicles with engines running. "Get in," James shouted. "Police are three minutes out."
We ran for the vehicles, piled in without grace or order. I ended up in the back seat of an SUV with Claire, while Blake and Connor took the other vehicle with Marcus and Dr. Reeves. The vampires drove, their supernatural reflexes allowing them to navigate dark streets at speeds that would have killed human drivers.
Behind us, I heard sirens. Saw flashing lights reflecting off buildings. The police were arriving at the facility, responding to reports of gunfire, finding a scene of destruction and violence that would take them hours to process.
We had escaped. Had gathered evidence. Had captured the lead researcher. Had dealt a blow to the conspiracy that was hunting supernatural beings.
But Dr. Reeves had been right about one thing. We had not stopped the organization behind this. Had not identified the people at the top, the ones giving orders and providing funding. We had cut off one head, but the body remained intact.
And now they knew we were fighting back.
Knew we had discovered their operation. Knew we would not stop until we burned everything they had built.
The war was no
longer secret. It was here, now, open and undeniable.
And I had no idea if we could win.