“It stinks,” I groan.

“That would be because of all the shit,” Billy unhelpfully replies.

“Why do they do this to themselves?” I continue. “Aren’t their noses really sensitive?”

“Perhaps they have protective gear,” Chiaki suggests, holding her hands in front of her nose and mouth.

“I wish we had an Incantator here,” I sigh. “Use some magic to blow this stink in the other direction.”

“I’m sure our dignified mages would be honored for such a task,” Billy snorts. “Now save your breath, the air down here is not in great supply.”

We’re not in the actual sanitary sewer tunnel, which is something of a relief. It seems as those the werewolves have managed to build their own crude tunnel along side it. Still, it’s not exactly a safe means of travel. None of us can stand upright, although it is wide enough for us without bumping shoulders into the walls…or to turn and run if needs be. The smell is the worst, not just for how pungent it is, but because the toxins undoubtedly in the air too. We’re not trained for this sort of confined space entry and while we do have small flashlights to keep the darkness at bay, it’s not much in the ‘we’re prepared’ category.

I’m about to concede to a retreat when the smell vanishes. We all pause and I tentatively lower my hand from my nose and mouth and sniff. “Whatever secret they’re using, I want it.”

“It’s not highly effective Poo-pourri,” Billy replies. “We just passed into the Market. I’d wager we’re on the very outskirts of it though.”

“They’ve dug a tunnel so far?” Chiaki asks.

“It is part of their nature,” Billy hums. “Or, I assume it is. Regardless, we’re definitely in the in-between.”

We continue along the tunnel, which is expanding in height until we’re all upright. Another few feet and we reach the bottom of a narrow staircase carved into the rocky ground.

The stairway is not blocked by another massive door, which is another point for us, but our pendants aren’t vibrating either. Did the werewolves move on already? I take point, my hand dropping to my gun, and push open the iron door. It opens to what looks like a partially finished basement, and to our right is an open safe with a fat stack of white powder tucked neatly into squares. “Damn, that’s enough to get all of South End high,” I whistle. I glance towards Billy. “No pocketing the evidence.”

“I would never!”

Beyond the safe there’s another room, and I can see the glint of dim lighting on various barrels. Drugs, guns, seems like we just stumbled into one of Castillo’s big caches. There’s also a crude looking lab in there, but I don’t see any blue Meth, just foggy vials, and beakers.

“No wonder the mundane police can never find evidence to tie Castillo to his crimes,” Chiaki murmurs as she takes stock of every illicit item in here. “Do you think there’s more throughout the city?”

“Absolutely,” Billy replies. “What a clever bastard.”

“You sound like a fan,” I snicker.

“Hey, credit where credit is due.”

We move cautiously, although there’s no sign of the werewolves. I squint when I see a line of cages against the far wall. “What the fuck is all this?” I whisper, looking around at the various sizes set neatly next to another. The bars are thick, there’s stained mattresses and what looks like water bowls in each one. “You think it’s for transformations?”

“Could be,” Billy muses. “Castillo and his inner circle are strong enough that their influence, especially his, would help most of his pack keep their minds. Any whelps wouldn’t benefit from that right away though, and it’s in his best interest for Boston not to know about werewolves.”

If that’s the case, why am I feeling such a sense of dread? I frown as I steal across the cement floor to the nearest cage. I see something under the mattress and test the door. It’s unlocked, but creaks horribly making both Billy and Chiaki wince at the noise. “Sorry,” I mouth, before ducking into the cage and grabbing what turns out to be a couple of Mexican pesos. I leave the cage and study them, my mind going through the possibilities. “You think he’s smuggling people in?”

“That wouldn’t be practical,” Chiaki replies. “He’s so far from the border here.”

“And it begs the question of the choice of accommodations,” Billy adds.

I feel something in my stomach clench. “Shit…you don’t think he’s trafficking…”

I see motion in the corner of my vision and snap my gaze to the far wall. I thought I saw a figure, but realize it’s only a shadow…and yet, it seems like it slides up the wall. More than that, it looks like it’s the color of blood, but I suppose that could just be the lighting down here. I’m about to point it out to Billy and Chiaki, but I don’t get the chance.

“What’s all this?” a brusque voice cuts in.

All three of us turn in unison towards the direction of the voice, instantly seeing four, very impressively built men who are glowering at us. They stand between us and the tunnel out, and must have come from the weapons room. I was so caught up in the potential horror going on here, I didn’t notice their approach. Something both Chiaki and Billy also seem guilty of. Later, I’ll make a comment about Billy being the worst seer, right now…I’m sensing how hostile this group is and know it’s not the time for glib comments. They are part of the tactical team we’re meant to be observing. I didn’t feel my pendant alerting me to their presence, but that could be why they’re part of the tactical team. The werewolves look between us and the leader sneers. “We figured you Order pendejos would be smarter about following us,” he growls. Is this why they took off the way they did to begin with? Was all this a trap? No, they must have heard us come into this chamber…the question remains then, what made them run in the first place?

The largest of the group snarls, lips pulling back to reveal yellowed teeth. His eyes are a similar hue, yellow and bloodshot.

“Come with us,” he snaps.

“Look, we’re just trying to figure out—” I begin to say.

“Now!” the wolf barks and it’s easy to see that he favors that side over humanity.

I glance at Billy, who doesn’t look apprehensive so much as just…pensive. He nods, signaling that we should do as asked. I know there’s going to be a senior Centurion in the area soon enough, but I’m almost hoping they’ll be delayed. I can’t help feeling I’m going to be blamed for this fuck up, and I want a chance to fix it before the higher ups get here.

I keep my stance mostly neutral, ready to grab my weapon if I need to, but when we step forward to do as told, the werewolves just lead us across the basement to another set of stairs. We go up and through another one of those heavy doors before we travel down a narrow hallway and into a living room. If I’m not mistaken, we’re close to the first condo, maybe a street or two beyond judging by the length of the underground tunnel. So, the basement must be the only part of the area that’s part of the underground market. Inside the living room it smells like dog, and my eyes water a touch from how prevalent that smell is; mixed with dirty socks, used dishes, and sweat, this is the last place I want to spend a lot of time in, especially after the sewer. The werewolves take position around us to keep us from fleeing.

“I demand to know what you are doing here!” the lead werewolf snaps. “We saw the van!”

“Bit obvious then, yeah?” Billy asks to the displeasure of everyone present.

“Let me rephrase, watchman, what gives you the right to spy on us? We are the ones being targeted! What could you possibly gain with this invasion of privacy?!”

“You can’t be ignorant to the fact that your organization is less than willing to work with us,” I point out. “And right now, we can’t afford to worry about hurting your feelings if it gets us closer to finding the killer.”

“Feelings have nothing to do with it!” lead thug growls. “Why are you not focusing these resources on the covens? You will find the killer there!”

“That is unlikely,” Chiaki keeps her voice level, calm, but I know that she is also prepared in case violence breaks out. I also know she’s preparing to share what we discussed about the carved letters. “We think…”

I stop her with a harsh “quiet!” that has all attention return to me.

“Tell us!” the werewolf snarls. “Or else admit your hypocrisy in saying we do not cooperate with you.”

He’s right, it does make me look like a hypocrite, but I’m not doing this to be difficult. I’m doing this to protect Brianna. Her life may be on the line if the syndicate learns she met with a Centurion to give access to one of their dead. It’s a poor way to thank her by throwing her under the bus, especially when that bus had claws and big teeth. The immediate problem, however, is that the man’s already short temper is rapidly deteriorating the longer my refusal to answer becomes.

“Tell. Me.”

“Sorry, Cerberus business.”

The lead howls in rage and lunges, his large hand closes around my neck and he lifts me with ease before slamming me into the wall. I’m trained for this, I never freeze. The second he grabs me, I grab my gun loaded with silver bullets and jam the barrel under his chin, forcing his head back.

“I could snap your neck, human.”

“Not before I blow your brains out, wolf.”

The other wolves are growling, and I hear both Chiaki and Billy trying to calm the situation, but I keep my focus entirely on the immediate threat. His grip loosens and my feet touch the floor again, but the danger is still very present so I don’t lower the gun.

“You killed one of ours last night, and now this,” he sneers.

“You do see what’s happening, don’t you?” I ask, finger on the trigger. “Order, covens and syndicate not-so-gradually escalating volatility?”

I can see that despite how much he seems like a thick brute, he’s smarter than outward appearance suggests because there’s comprehension in his eyes. Reluctant as it may be.

“You believe this is a set up.”

“Yes,” I say, even though he didn’t ask.

His grip suddenly tightens again and he throws me into Billy, who staggers and thanks to Chi, doesn’t collapse to the floor with me.

“I think it is another ploy from your Order to assert control!”

This really isn’t going well, and my hope to have this concluded before the senior Centurions arrive gets crushed when I feel their presence closing in. The wolves tense further, attune to our kind and thus well aware that with the added skills of those nearby, they won’t get away without heavy losses.

“Remember this,” the lead growls. “It was you who started this incident, you who surveilled us for no just cause, you who refuse to explain yourselves at all. You had no right to do any of these things, not to us, not when we are the ones being slaughtered. You whine about Mr. Castillo not extending a hand to join forces when you have already slipped a knife into our backs. Leave this place. Leave it now. And know that you have destroyed any hope of collaboration. May this killer turn their sights on you and rid us all of your evil.”

I want to argue with him, I want to say - at least - that evil is a big stretch, but I understand this is our only chance to leave without anyone getting injured or killed. The Centurions outside are approaching this condo, and Chiaki urges us to get out before they reach the door. A door has closed here, and not the actual door of the condo slamming shut behind us when we step back outside, but one that may have been our only chance of stopping this. The wolves won’t help us. Brianna won’t help me anymore once she hears about what happened, of this I’m certain, and Henry will probably be cut off from their information too even with his amiable relationship with Brianna. What starts as a chance for real progress ends in a slog, and I need the analysts to find something so it’s not a complete failure on my end.

“What is going on?” one of the senior Centurions, Mauve I think her name is, demands.

“Misunderstanding,” Billy replies. “No colossal harm done, we need to end this part of the mission for now though, wait until they set up elsewhere and continue then, if necessary.”

“We’ll get your full report when we return to headquarters,” Mauve says, looking unconvinced. “Let’s go.”

She and the other two Centurions get into a dark Chevy parked nearby. Meanwhile, we cut through two alleys to get back to 8^th street, and I get into the back of the van with Chiaki while Billy slides into the driver’s seat. My shoulders are tense, jaw too, to the point I’m going to give myself a headache if I don’t force myself to relax. I can’t though, because I’m thinking about what ramifications this afternoon is going to bring. I’m thinking about Henry, who I still haven’t heard from. I’m thinking about what’s going to happen if more werewolves get killed and they decide they aren’t going to take it anymore. Castillo may keep his pack in line when it comes to transformations, but they’re one of the deadliest groups in Boston on their own, and I don’t want to see what their retaliation might look like.