Jennifer Ashley: Wild Wolf

“We need to lock it down,” The soldier who seemed to be in charge said. “Corporal, take a team and check it out.”

One of the younger men signaled to another, shouldered his weapon, and started down the metal ladder to the basement.

Misty glanced down in alarm, but saw no sign of Graham or Dougal. They’d vanished.

“Are these the ones who’ve been missing?” the commander asked Diego, gesturing at Misty. Diego gave him a grim nod.

“Missing?” Misty asked as Eric reached for Kyle. Kyle clung to his arm, a wolf cub, looking fearfully back at Misty and Matt. “We’re not missing.” Misty tried her smile again. “We’re right here.”

The commander answered. “Your mother in L.A. called in a missing-persons report on Melissa Granger five days ago. Said she couldn’t get into contact with you, and your neighbors said you left with a Shifter at that time and haven’t been home since. Business owners around your store say Shifters have been at your shop, but no one has seen you.” He looked her over, from her tank top and shorts, torn and covered with dirt, to her scratched and gouged legs and arms. “So you need to tell me, ma’am, exactly where you’ve been and what happened to you.”

Misty listened, her lips parting. “Five days . . . ?”

More humans came hurrying to join the commander, these looking more like paramedics. One caught Misty by the arm and tried to lead her toward an open ambulance. “We need to check you out,” the paramedic said. “Make sure you’re all right. Commander, interrogate her once we’ve taken her vitals and given her some water, all right?”

“Five days?” Misty couldn’t help repeating.

“You went through an ordeal,” the paramedic suggested. “But you’re fine now. We’ll take care of you and get you away from these Shifters. It will be all right.”

“Wait.” Misty held Matt closer. “This one’s hurt more than me. He needs help.”

Eric reached for Matt and took him out of Misty’s arms. Kyle wriggled in Eric’s arms, trying to lick his brother’s face. “Poor little guy.”

“You need to come with us, ma’am,” the paramedic said, in his stern but friendly voice.

“I’m not hurt that much,” Misty tried. “I—”

She broke off as a familiar man with broad shoulders but not much height reached to Eric for Matt. “I’ll take the cub.” Ben gave a wide smile to the commander. “I’m a vet,” he said. “I specialize in Shifters.”

Ben really did have a reassuring smile, in spite of his prison tatts and once-broken nose. Plus, he didn’t wear a Collar, and obviously wasn’t Shifter.

“I’ll have to clear this,” the commander said, not changing expression.

“Sure you do,” Ben said. “My name’s Ben Williams. Look me up. I’m ex-con but served all my time. Now I take care of animals.”

If Ben truly was a veterinarian, this was the first Misty had heard of it. Eric, however, seemed perfectly sanguine to hand Matt to him.

Ben leaned near Misty as he carefully took Matt, his movement putting him between Misty and the impatient paramedic. “Misty, you need to blow the basement.”

Misty blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“Cave it in.” Ben kept his voice quiet, his face set only in compassion for the cubs. “Bury the ley line; close the portal. Humans will be screwed if they find it, and Shifters will be screwed if these guys find the basement.”

Misty understood the why. What she didn’t know was . . . “How?”

“Roots,” Ben said. “You did the mastering spell. I can see it in you.”

“But . . .” Dougal and Graham might still be down there.

“Do it,” Ben said. He straightened up, a cub on each arm. “I’ll take care of these cuties.”

He walked away.

Misty stared after him, the man looking no less human than the soldiers around her. But then, Ben had written the book, more than a hundred years ago, he’d told Misty how to use it, and to trust herself. He’d been right every time.

Was Graham still down there, hiding with Dougal? Why was he? Only one way to find out.

Misty gasped and slapped at her pockets. “My cell phone. I dropped it.” She stared wildly at the hole behind her, then before the commander could reach for her, she swung around onto the ladder and descended to the basement.

She saw no sign of Graham or Dougal anywhere. They could be hiding, or they could have gone back through the ley line to the cave.

Misty darted under the darkness, but it was too intense after the first few feet out of the sunshine for her to see anything. “Graham,” she whispered.

No answer. He was gone, Dougal with him.

“Corporal, find her,” the commander snapped.

Roots. Misty looked up. The Shifters who’d dug out this cellar had carefully left the earth around the house whole above it. The basement ran a long way underground, well past the house for which it was intended. The planted trees as well as the native brush were intact above it.

Desert shrubs might look fragile and could even appear dried out and dead, but in truth they were tough and hardy. They had to burrow deep into the earth in search of groundwater and rain runoff in order to survive, and their root systems were extensive and strong. The plants could live for years in dormancy, looking dead from above. Then, after a good rain, the plant would become green and vibrant, beautiful and blooming. It would drop its seeds, which would lie in wait in the shade of the parent plant, until that life-giving water found them.

The part of the desert plant below ground was giant and complex, never seen, but networking through the ground in a powerful mesh.

Misty studied the tendrils sticking out of the ceiling above her and the wall around her. She thought of how she’d controlled the vines in the Fae cave, but she had no idea if the book’s spell would work here.

But then, this basement was on a ley line, and in Faerie, magic was real. She agreed with Ben that she needed to collapse it—this place was dangerous for humans and Shifters alike, and humans didn’t need to ask questions about why the hole was here in the first place.

Misty took a breath, and took a risk. “Pull it down,” she said to the roots.

“Ma’am.” The corporal behind her was polite but firm. “You need to come with me.”

“Now,” Misty whispered.

Nothing happened. Misty clenched her jaw and turned around. She knew if she tried to evade the soldiers any longer, they might question her too closely—where she’d been, how she’d been injured, who she’d been with, what was down here . . . She’d been gone five days ? She needed to get with Ben and interrogate him .

“Oh, well,” Misty said, giving the corporal a helpless little smile. “I guess I can always get a new phone.”

A root moved. Rustled. Another trembled. As Misty stopped to look up, the entire mass of roots began to vibrate, and clods of earth came down.

Misty backed up swiftly. The corporal grabbed her by the shoulders at the same time and pushed her to the ladder. As Misty climbed ahead of him, her legs shaking, the entire ceiling of the basement caved in, pulling with it a line of trees, bushes, and the foundations of the house that was being built over it.

The ladder shuddered and started to collapse. Eric reached down from the top and grabbed Misty, hauling her up just as the ladder broke into several pieces. The corporal tried to hang on and pull himself up, but falling dirt and rock carried him back down, his hands struggling for purchase.

Eric pushed Misty at Diego, flowed into his snow leopard form, clothes falling away, and went for the hole. He climbed with feline grace down into the avalanche, grabbed the corporal by the back of the shirt, and hauled him up again. Eric’s claws scrabbled on the shifting dirt, his muscles straining, as the hole continued to fall in around him.