Chapter 347

Accidental Surrogate Chapter 347-Sinclair

Things move quickly once we arrive at the point of entry. Everything has been planned to the letter so

that even our arrival is quiet, covert, in the darkest hours of the night when we’re least likely to be seen.

Each of the cars filled with our men has parked at different points in the surrounding blocks of the city

so that when we do converge on the sewer, we do it in near silence and darkness.

Roger and I are there first and, in preparation, we contact our father at home to let him know that we’re

in position. Once we’re in the sewers, our ability to speak with him will be limited 1 it will just be us

down there, along with whatever we find.

Dad replied readily, letting us know that all is well – if not a little tense – at the bunker. I smiled a little at

the message, thinking of Ella and Rafe safe and worried. Of Cora pacing anxiously, waiting for Roger.

It’s not that I like thinking of them being upset but, well. It’s nice to be missed. Nice to be able to think of

someone at home loving you, wanting you to come back.

“Ready?” Roger asks, giving me a nudge and pointing down the road to where the first of our men are

begin to approach. We meet each other’s eyes, knowing that it’s time. I give a slow, deep nod to my

brother, and then he slides the manhole cover to the side so that I can slip in. I drop to the floor of the

curving sewer below, all of my senses on high alert for anything odd, anything strange.

But as I look around, scenting the air, there’s nothing off – and nothing fresh. No signs of anyone here

now, or anyone around in the past few hours. When I’m sure, I look up at my brother, who peers

through the entrance above me. Then I beckon with my hand.

Come, my gesture implies. It’s clear. Or, it is at least for now.

Roger drops into the sewer with me and then we prowl forward, our hands free and our hackles raised.

The wolf within me is on high alert, a growl already rumbling in his chest, his eyes sharp, his teeth

sharper. As we move forward, I hear my men start to enter the sewer as well, tiny splashes letting me

know as each one arrives.

We decided on a team of sixteen, with Roger and I at the head of it. Enough troops to arrive as a force,

but not so large that we could truly lose track of them. Each of our men carries a weapon – some guns,

some close- combat tools like knives and tasers. Roger and I, however, carry only ourselves. Our

wolves are more powerful than anything we’re likely to meet. We’re each weapon enough.

Slowly, we move forward, the map of the sewer that I’ve memorized aligning perfectly with the reality.

We turn to the left when we come to a junction, and I hold up a fist in the air, asking my team to stop.

This, I know, is where the test really begins. Because the priest’s lair is just up ahead.

Slowly, I turn to survey our forces and count twelve men behind us, which is good. Two, I know, are

standing outside at the entrance as guards.

Slowly, so everyone can see, I move my hand to my shoulder and flip the switch on the radio that’s

there attached to the strap of my bullet-proof vest with velcro. Everyone else does the same, ensuring

that we’ll be able to stay in touch if anyone is separated.

As I turn back towards our target, I think that it’s not so important if we’re quiet anymore – Because

there’s no going back now.

I signal my forces to move forward now, walking more quickly now, my boots splashing through the

water as I head directly for the door that I know is 100 feet forward and to the left. Roger snarls beside

me, a wicked sound, as we approach –

50 feet now, and we’re almost running -25, and it’s a charge –

I roar as we turn the corner towards the lair, ready to rip to shreds anyone that I find inside – But as I

turn towards the door, ready to throw it open, I find that it’s already ajar dangling off its hinges. My heart

pounds with unused adrenaline as I survey the scene before me and realize –

“Shit,” Roger snaps, storming into the empty room and looking around. ” We’re too fucking late.”

Another growl is my only reply as I signal my troops to stop the charge and set up a perimeter around

the door, which they quickly do. Then, I step inside with my brother, looking around.

The room is not spotless – there are still scraps of paper around, beat up tables and chairs that the

priest was clearly using to set up his potions or whatever it was he was doing down here.

“God damn it,” Roger curses, pounding a fist against the wall.

“It’s not totally lost,” I say, turning around and surveying the room. “There are some things here that

could be useful…”

“Dominic,” Roger says, exasperated, and I turn to see him rolling his eyes at me. “He took everything

that could tell us anything.”

“No, brother,” I say, my mouth curling into a grin as I lift my nose and scent the air. “He left us one

thing…”

And then, intrigued, Roger lifts his nose as well and takes a moment to detect it as well. “You’re right,”

he says, bringing his eyes back to mine with a flash of pleasure.

“We have a scent,” I growl, and then I look at him curiously. “What do you think?” I ask. “Is it…likely that

he would have stuck around?”

“He had a lot of stuff, Dominic,” Roger replies, considering. “If he wanted to keep it all, needed it close,

is it possible that he didn’t go far?

Perhaps…another part of the sewer, hoping that we’ll assume it’s a lost cause?”

“It’s worth following it up,” I say, grinning a little at the idea that the case is still on. “Would you like to

take the honor? Or should I?”

“Oh please,” Roger growls, his voice low and eager. “Let me.”

I nod and, with a flash, Roger transforms into his wolf, shaking his fur loose as soon as he does as if

he’s been eager to do this for hours, to become the animal that’s been prowling within him, eager to

protect his family, his mate, his new baby.

I step back and watch Roger work as he moves slowly around the room, sniffing everything, his

intensified senses picking up more of the priest’s scent than our human bodies are capable of doing.

Then, when he’s ready, Roger lifts his eyes to mine and nods his snout once.

“All right,” I say, gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.”

Eagerly, Roger prowls out, his gigantic wolf so tall that his shoulders nearly coming even with my chest.

Our troops move aside to make room for Roger as he turns into the sewer, looking left down the long

aisle. I signal my troops for their attention, which they give me eagerly, and then point down the hall

after Roger’s retreating form, signaling that we will follow.

As one, the troops nod, and we start off with Roger in the lead and me close behind.