#Chapter 368 – Deeper In
Sinclair
“We have to get to them,” Roger snarls, moving towards a window intending to bash it to pieces, I know – but I grab his arm as he goes, pulling him back.
“The priests are not that stupid,
Roger,” I say through clenched teeth. ” If they can make the door disappear, they can make the windows solid – ”
“So what do we do,” Roger growls, frantic, as our remaining healthy men take advantage of the momentary reprieve to attend to the men who are wounded. I glance around, doing a quick survey and finding that about eight of our men are down. I grimace when I realize that two are not moving at all, or making any noise. But I look away from them fast, not needing the distraction.
“We retreat, I say, holding Roger’s eye, “or we move further in. But there’s a reason why they’re not attacking here – they’re letting us stay in relative peace because they want us to stay here. Which means they don’t want us to leave, and they don’t want us to go further.”
“What?” Roger asks, frantic and a little baffled, looking around. “Why don’t they just kill us? Why don’t they just -”
“Because they can’t,” I say, nodding as I figure it out. If they had more priests to send – enough to take us out – they would do it. But the fact that they’re not sending them…
It means that we’ve got enough force on us that they can’t risk it. That we, somehow, outnumber or outmatch them. My wolf bares his fangs within me, eager now, on more secure ground now that we know more about what we’re facing.
“What?” Roger asks, his brows knitting together, still looking frantically for a way to get out, to get to her to his mate-
“Roger!” I shout, shaking his arm, making him turn to me. “If you think I have any less concern for Ella than you do Cora, then you need to check
yourself,” I hiss, bringing my face close to his so that only he hears me. “But you need to pull it together. You’re not going to help them by acting on impulse, all right? We need a plan.”
Roger glances away again for just a second, his jaw clenched, but then he turns back to me and nods so I release his arm.
“Which way?” I ask, crossing my arms and glancing up towards the staircase and the second level where I suspect more are waiting for us, guarding…. something. Perhaps their Master?
Perhaps…something else? “They want us to stay here, but they can’t hold us forever. So the only question is – do we fight to leave? Or to go further in?”
I see the word “leave” on Roger’s tongue, can see Cora on his mind. And frankly, I’m tempted too. The idea that – well, that they want us to stay here means that they knew we were coming. And if they knew that we were coming…
It means that they know far more about us than we thought they did. That they know that the girls are alone now. Even
Even the location of the bunker. I groan inwardly at the possibility, but I force myself to turn away from it, to focus again on my brother.
Roger, to my surprise, hesitates, glancing up the stairs with me, putting the pieces together. “If they aren’t sending more,” he murmurs, meeting my eves, “it means we’re close.”
“Push?” I ask, steeling myself for his answer.
Slowly, Roger nods his head. “We push.”
I turn to my men, giving a loud order to assemble where possible. Those who are able again line up before us, two of our healthy men falling back – as is part of their protocol – to continue tending to our wounded. I give brisk orders for the men to press forward no matter what. The men nod, steeled for what’s going to come next.
Then, as one, Roger and I turn towards the stairs, determined to continue the attack.
The problem presents itself immediately as we start to climb, considering that there is a blank wall at the top of the stairs instead of a hallway or a door through which we can pass. When I get to the top, I press a hand against the barrier, which feels as real as any other wall I’ve ever touched.
Roger brings his face close, sniffing it.” It’s off,” he murmurs. “Something… wrong here.”
“Magic,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and looking it up and down. ” Conjured.”
Roger leans back and thinks for a moment before he speaks again, his voice low and considering. “We know, from our research, that the priest’s power comes from binding their wolves. Which means that…whatever they’ve accessed to create this kind of illusion…we have access to it too, Dominic.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to him, confused.
“I mean,” he says, looking at me askance. “That…I mean, we forget it –
or we think that only Cora and Ella have it, but our wolves too are gifts from the goddess. They’re magic, as much as we don’t generally describe them that way. That the priests are able to do this because they’ve denied that gift, darkened it.”
I nod, turning back to the wall, considering it. “So,” I say slowly, “we can conclude that…we have the tools we need to fight this.”
“I think so,” Roger says, turning his head and considering again. And then he reaches out and takes my hand.
“What?” I snap, jerking my hand away from his.
“Don’t be an idiot Dominic,” Roger grumbles, rolling his eyes at me and then grabbing my hand again. “I’m trying to…do something here.”
And then, as I watch, I see Roger begin to….well, meditate. Or, at least that’s the closest thing I can think of to describe it it’s certainly looks like what Ella does when she begins to access her gift. And then as I watch him, I feel a little…tug. Inside of me, where my wolf lives. And my wolf cocks his head to the side as if he has heard a strange noise. Curious, he moves towards it, and I urge him to go further.
And then, quite suddenly, I…feel Roger’s wolf, there beside mine. And, acting on some impulse, I close my eyes too, willing myself to calm, to relax. And though I can’t see it – can only feel it – I know that our wolves, together, their magic joined together…they press forward.
And as they do, I raise my hand to touch my fingers against the wall, and I too press.
At first my fingers simply push against the solid wall, but as our wolves move together, the wall beneath my fingers seems to give – not crumble, or bend, as a wall might, but instead to move inward until.
I almost stumble forward, catching myself at the last minute as there’s suddenly nothing beneath my hand. My eyes fall open to see nothing there before us – and I turn my eyes to Roger in shock –
But I snap my face back forward when I see the snarl on his lips – as I realize that the priest – the priest –
He’s standing right before us, his fists wrapped in flames.
“Clever wolves,” he murmurs, his mouth lifting in a sneer. “Calling my bluff.”
Roger doesn’t bother to reply, instead transforming instantly into his wolf and leaping forward, his fangs ready for blood. I roar and signal my men forward for a charge before we all move directly for the priest who stands alone before us.
