Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The trail was strongest here. The scent of her sweat and skin and blood was dizzying, but something else made Cam’s stomach nearly retch.

Fear.

Josh hesitated for only a second before opening the basement door, but it was a second too long for Cam. Sara wasn’t the only thing he could smell; Josh reeked of adrenaline and sweat in the small space. From the corner of his eye, he saw Josh put his hand down, as though he wanted to touch him again, but he paused, his fingers hovering just above his head before pulling away. Cam realized he probably looked more than a little intimidating, and Josh’s more basic instincts to avoid large, tense, dangerous dogs had probably kicked in at that moment. Especially since Josh wasn’t accustomed to seeing him in canine form.

He pushed the door open and stepped aside, allowing Cam to race past him.

The first bound almost made him tumble down the rest of the flight of stairs, but he recovered well enough to get to the bottom on his own four feet. Where he’d expected an open room, indicative of any other normal basement, Cam found himself staring down a narrow hall lined with closed doors leading to unknown rooms. It was an obvious construct, probably done after the fact, but he didn’t care about why. She was behind one of those doors. He tensed, ready to go bolting forward to nose out which one, when a flashing light above made him pause.

He tilted his head back, aware of Josh descending the stairs behind him. Just because he couldn’t see red in this form didn’t mean Cam couldn’t recognize an alarm going off when he saw one.

A man sprung from a nearby door, gun drawn, the barrel pointed at him. Cam barely had a chance to adjust before a shot exploded in the small corridor, reverberating off the walls and making his skull vibrate. He ducked his head automatically as the man in front of him fell face first to the ground, and fresh blood obscured the trail he had been following to Sara.

Cam spun around to see Josh slowly lower his arm, his face blank in the revolving light. “Hurry,” was all he said.

Fear there would be more men spurred Cam to run. His paws slipped in the blood pooling on the cement floor, and he skidded several feet before he realized her scent was growing fainter. Whirling, he backtracked, but the instant he saw the door opening, he leapt into the air.

His powerful jaws sank into the man’s neck before the would-be assailant drew his gun. Cam’s aim was true, and blood spurted from the jugular to coat his muzzle. Though they fell to the ground, the man’s attempts to dislodge Cam from his throat grew weaker with each passing second, until they stopped completely, his thready pulse disappearing altogether.

Josh’s thin form stepped between the dead man and the wall, his shoulder pushing the door open to reveal a brightly lit room. Cam forced his way past Josh and barely noticed the way he slumped against the wall, as if somebody had punched him in the chest.

The room was nearly devoid of furniture. There was a chair near the door with a discarded Sports Illustratednext to it and a low table bolted to the opposite wall. But Cam didn’t see the furnishings. He saw the thin form stretched out on top of the table. He saw the slack hand resting at its side, the steel cuffs chafing around the wrists to restrain it. He saw the strong jaw, and the dark hair spilling over the pillow, and the steady rise and fall of her breasts as she slept.

He saw Sara.

On the first step toward her, he changed, almost unknowingly. His need to touch her, to know she was real, superseded the need for the dog guise. The air was cool against his bared skin, but Cam didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything until he’d crossed the room and stood at her side. Then he saw what had stopped Josh inside the door.

“Oh, my God,” he murmured.

Josh circled to the other side of the table, meeting Cam’s eyes over Sara’s prone body. The woman in front of him and the woman who lived in his memories were not the same person. This version of Sara was pale, drawn, and gaunt, the thinnest shadow of her former vibrant self. The hospital gown barely covered her thighs, but her legs, arms and face told a story of torment, pain and every nightmare he had during the past two years.

Josh reached out to touch her, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek. His hand looked much too large, much too strong, against her fragile skin—her stained and bruised skin. The blood covering her wasn’t fresh, it was merely a pink stain, like they couldn’t be bothered to clean her properly. A recent wound on the inside of her thigh slowly seeped blood.

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