Scar-eyebrow appeared in the doorway, face impassive. “The boss wants another round. You ready to talk this time?”
They’re asking my permission now?“Can I use the bathroom first? That meat…” He left the sentence hanging, hoping the guard would fill in the blanks and get the wrong idea.
The guard studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. “Make it quick.”
He moved forward with the knife, cutting the wrist ties first. Ewen shook out his arms. That last set of wrist ties had been far too tight, and his fingers were numb and swollen. Scar-eyebrow grabbed his arm and hauled him upright.
Ewen’s knees gave out. He caught himself on the chair, breathing hard as feeling returned in agonizing waves. His fox stirred, gathering what little strength remained.
This is it, Ewen thought.It’s now or never.
Chapter Five
The textile factory was definitely not part of regular tourist spots and for good reason. It loomed, half swallowed by sand in a mass of crumbling brick and boarded-up windows. Lamont materialized in the shadow of a half-collapsed wall, taking in the scene.
The first thing he noticed was two black jeeps and an expensive convertible that were parked outside what would’ve been the main entrance of the place. Lamont shook his head. The vehicles, while covered in dust, were so out of place they might as well have been neon signs indicating criminal activities inside.
His hound surged forward, a pull so strong Lamont actually stumbled a step before catching himself.
What are you doing?There was no denying his hound wanted to get closer. Lamont still didn’t know one hundred percent why, although he was equally eager to save Ewen. He just thought he and his hound should take the time to familiarize themselves with the layout before dashing into anything.
We need to get in there.
Lamont moved toward the building, his boots sinking slightly in sand. The entire area was eerily quiet and about as barren as the wastelands. There was no breeze. The only thing that broke the stillness was the shimmer of heat on small dunes in the distance. Moving closer to the building, his hound was alert and ready to spring free at a moment’s notice.
And then he heard it. Barking, growling, and then shouting in English and Arabic. Thanks to being a hellhound, Lamont could understand everything he heard…except the barking.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“…catch it!”
“How did it get loose?”
“Get loose from where? Which one of you bastards brought a dog?”
“Not mine. How did it get in here? The door’s shut.”
“Just grab the damn thing…” That was a woman’s voice. Then she screamed.
Lamont froze for a moment as realization hit him around the head like a two by four.You’ve got to be kidding me.
Ewen was a shifter. He had to be. And apparently he’d gotten so desperate that he’d shifted to try an escape, which explained the chaos Lamont could hear escalating inside. Lamont cursed his stupidity -how come I didn’t notice that when we met?He should have picked up on it. There were always slight tells, especially at a soul level. But of course, Lamont hadn’t been searching Ewen’s soul. He didn’t have a reason to at the time. He was too busy being distracted by the urgency in Ewen’s voice and Lord Hades’s orders.
There was no time to worry about his mistakes now. The barking had intensified, accompanied by sounds of crashing furniture and increasingly creative cursing in both languages.
Lamont clicked his fingers. A black balaclava materialized in his palm. It was going to be hot, but Lamont was used to the heat - he called the Underworld home after all. He pulled it on, making sure it fully covered his hair and face until only his eyes remained visible, then moved to the door closest to the parked vehicles.
One well-placed kick and the door crashed inward, hinges screaming.
The scene that greeted him would have been comical under different circumstances. The ground floor of the warehouse was just one wide open space, mostly empty except for scattered furniture and equipment. There were six men - all dark haired and dressed in camo shirts and pants, running around in chaotic circles. The only two anomalies were a woman who dressed as if she belonged in a CEO’s office, standing to one side, her hands up by her chin, hopping from one foot to the other as if worried about getting bitten, and the being the men were all chasing…a large black dog.
Except now that Lamont had a clear view, he realized it wasn’t a dog they were chasing, but a fox - something that should never have been in the desert regions of Egypt at all. A silver fox, if Lamont wasn’t mistaken, with sleek black fur, a cute face - although the fox was currently showing a lot of teeth - and his eyes so wide, Lamont could see the desperation.
Ewen. It has to be.
The fox spotted Lamont the instant he entered. Those sharp eyes locked onto him, and without hesitation, the animal pivoted mid-stride and bolted straight toward him.
“Stop it!” the woman shrieked.