Hunting the Hunter (Second in Lone Wolf series)

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Breakfast!” The call rang out as the dungeon doors were thrown open. Brendon watched the prisoners around him, acting like hogs at feeding time. Tugging on their chains, fighting to reach the doors of their cages while drool ran down their chins.

Animals.

When it came down to it, deep down inside each human, werewolf, vampire and demon, inside each and every ‘civilized’ creature, lay the spirit of an animal.

The desperation, the savagery.

Brendon saw the guard approaching his cell. He was in the darkest and dampest of the many dungeons the Council had here. Brendon had never given much thought to what went on behind the scenes at the compound. He had always just done what he’d been told.

He had been blindly obedient. A sheep.

No more. That Brendon was gone. His eyes were wide open now and he was seeing the Council for what they truly were.

Monsters. They were no different, no better, than the evil that they sent their Hunter slaves to destroy. They had dungeons full of innocent prisoners. Prisoners they were torturing, starving and beating daily.

“Breakfast.” the guard at his door, a mortal, muttered and Brendon glared at him, ignoring the moldy hunk of bread that was tossed down on the feces and urine covered stone.

“You better eat, Brendon.”

“Do I know you?” Brendon growled. His voice was rough and scratchy from lack of water. He was weak, given the weeks he’d been here, or was it months now? Brendon figured it was. Probably close to two months.

He wondered where Ella was. Maybe Grange and the pack had been able to fight off the Hunters and Ella was fine, safe….. Brendon knew that wasn’t true. Something inside of him knew she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t safe.

“No, but we all know you. I never thought you’d turn on the Council. Your name is legend here.”

“That’s because I’m dangerous.” Brendon assured the man as he stood up, hauling up the heavy chains that were connecting his wrists and ankles. “Step in here and I’ll show you.”

“Don’t you think those chains might get in your way?” the young guard asked with a smirk.

Brendon smiled, though it was humorless and cold. He saw the cockiness on the guards face falter slightly.

“Naw, I think they’ll help.” Brendon’s voice lowered to little more than a whisper and the guard leaned closer to the bars in order to hear him. “Imagine these chains around your neck. Each cold, metal link pressing deeper and deeper. Warm blood trickling down your neck as they slice through your skin…..”

“That’s enough.” A second guard, an older guard, half demon, grunts as he shoves the first guard, (who has gone pale), out of his way. “It’s time to go, traitor. Your day in court has come.”

“Court would imply that there is some hope of justice. I think you mean my day of slaughter has come.”

“Get him out.” the second guard ordered and the first guard shook his head and took a step back.

“Hell no. I ain’t going in there. That man’s crazy.”

“That man is chained and there are three more of us standing out here if he tries anything.” the second guard reminded the first as two more guards walked over. When the first guard still showed no signs of moving toward the cell door, the second pulled his gun and pressed it against his chest.

“Get the prisoner out of his cell. The Council is waiting.”

Brendon found mild amusement in the way the first guards hands shook as he opened the cell door and stepped inside. Brendon waited patiently as the guard unhooked his chains from the floor and then shoved him forward.