The Anvil, Jensen/Jared 16/21

Frostfang was a tall, blonde Were in his late thirties. Jensen had seen him in the ring sparring a few times now, and the man was an impressive fighter. In Saturday night’s Big Show, there were six major bouts scheduled. Frostfang was already scheduled to be second to last. Jensen’s spot wasn’t confirmed yet, but he’d probably be in a much earlier match if he got in. Thumper didn’t have a lot to say about the Were, just, “Good right leg, Jensen— the left, not so good,” he whispered.

“Thanks, man.” Jensen fistbumped Thumper when he entered the ring. The boy had a great eye for weaknesses or strengths in fighters. If Thumper said he was good with his right leg, Jensen better watch out.

Erica grabbed his arm on his way past. “Remember,” she said as she shoved in his mouth guard.

Jensen debated the wisdom of not releasing his wolf, not giving Sheppard the satisfaction of a win. But now his whole escape plan revolved around him being in the Big Show. As Coach read out the rules of the match, few as they were, Jensen took a deep breath and allowed himself to sink deep inside himself. He felt a brush of fur as Wolf rose eagerly to the surface. He could feel Wolf’s excitement, his hunger for a fight, for a win. Vicariously, Jensen enjoyed the primal surge of Wolf’s adrenaline as he lifted his gloved hands in front of his face.

Again, it seemed like the match flew by at the speed of sound. One minute he was working in real time; then suddenly he was going at warp speed as Wolf surged into action. At first, it was just trading jabs, back and forth. Then Wolf spotted Frostfang’s tell, the one Thumper had warned him about. The Were kicked with his left leg with his body angled to hide the right, and then, when you thought the kick was over, he’d hit you with the right. It only took once before Wolf had him figured out. He even managed to catch Frostfang’s foot in his gloved hand and had him hopping backwards like a kangaroo toward the boards.

Wolf bided his time, trading jabs and kicks through the first two rounds, but in the final round, when Frostfang launched a left foot, right foot kick combination, Wolf caught his right leg mid-kick and flipped the fighter over completely, landing him facedown on the mat. Wolf followed him down and hooked his ankles behind Frostfang’s legs and whaled on his ribs and kidneys. Frostfang tried to squirm out from under Wolf, but only ended up with his head down, Wolf’s arms pinned him to the mat. When Frostfang tapped out, it took Jensen a moment to realize they had won. Wolf snarled, unsatisfied with the victory, wanting more blood, more pain. Blood lust soared through him. Fortunately, Jensen was ready this time and was able to wrestle back into dominance in the link and gentle Wolf down, retaking control.

Coach grabbed his hand and yanked it up in the air, declaring him the winner. Jensen grinned like a fool as the crowd of alphas roared.

Jensen exited the ring and spit his mouthguard into his hand, still grinning.

Erica dropped a towel over his shoulders, steered him to the outskirts of the crowd, and got him on an exercise bike to cool down. Once the next fight was underway, Coach sought him out on the sidelines. “Well done, Marshal. You’ve just landed a spot in the Big Show. Best bring your A game.”

Jensen mopped sweat out of his eyes as he continued to cycle and said, “Why’s that?”

“Sheppard wants you up against one of his favorite fighters, Grimfur of the Berserkers. Not my choice— in fact, I’d ban him from the ring if I could. Guy enjoys inflicting pain too much for my taste. That’s probably why Sheppard likes him. You’ll need to watch your back on this one; he’s not known to play by the book.” Coach looked at him solemnly. “Sorry about this, son. But I think you have it in you to beat the sonofabitch. Erica can give you some insight on his style of fighting tomorrow. For tonight, you should just cool down and then go rest up.” Coach gave his shoulder one last squeeze before heading back to the ring.

Jensen was perplexed. He turned to Erica. “Is this guy really that bad?”

“Yeah, that and more. He’s crippled and hurt more fighters here than any other Were. Plus, he’s the tenth-ranked fighter on the Rez. It’s kind of unheard of for a newbie to go up against anyone in the top ten their first time in the Big Show. Looks like Sheppard definitely wants to wring every cent he can out of having you here.”

“Go me!”

Thumper was shaking his head, a worried look on his face. “Not good, Marshal, not good.”

Jensen grinned. Sounded like just the match he needed.


A week and a half slid by, but Jared was no closer to a plan than he had been on the first day he’d learned Jensen was going to be in Sheppard’s show. He’d met with and nagged Osric so often that the man had to scold him that he could blow their cover if he kept this up. Chastened, Jared had hunkered down and focused on the things he could change, lining up the fourth bus full of evacuees to Manitoba.

Now it was Wednesday, only three days from the Big Show, and Jared had nothing to show for it. He packed up all the leftover phyllo egg tarts with spinach and feta he’d made for the breakfast and lunch crowd and closed up the shop. He noticed his digestion was much better when he had eggs. The little one really liked those. He smiled and rubbed his growing bulge. He’d taken to wearing his shirts out, even bought a few new ones that were looser. He’d even started tying his apron looser. No one had said anything yet, but Jared worried.

Starting up the stairs to his apartment, he paused. There was a scent in the hallway, one he knew. As he reached the landing, he could only stand there stunned.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, no one knows I’m here,” Dylan whispered, taking in the worried and shocked expression on Jared’s face.

Jared rushed to the apartment door and unlocked it. “Get inside quick, and stay down.” He moved inside and made a beeline for the big windows at the front of the apartment, closing both the blinds and the curtains. He sent up a prayer to thank the Goddess that he’d had Osric sweep his apartment for bugs again just a few days ago, and he was still clear. Then he paused and took a deep breath before he turned back to Dylan, who was rising from his crouch near the door. “What the hell are you thinking? Does the Alpha know you’re here?”

Dylan’s face took on a funny expression. “Not yet.”

“Dylan!”

“I mean, I intended to send them a text, once I knew what to say.”

Jared rubbed his hand across his face in exasperation. “Do you know how dangerous what you’ve done is?”

“I was careful! Once I was out of the woods, I walked on the roads in the opposite direction of town. When I arrived outside city limits, I hitched a ride with a trucker. No one saw me.”

“Still, that is so dangerous, so stupid. The Marshals have CCTV set up everywhere. What if the Marshals had spotted you? You could have given the whole pack away. Dear Lord, your mom and dad are going to kill me.”

Dylan looked down at the floor and crossed his arms defensively. “I made sure they didn’t, okay?”

“What the hell would make you do such a crazy thing? I know the caves aren't amazing, but Dylan…”

Dylan dropped his knapsack on the floor, threw himself into a nearby chair, and mumbled something that even Jared’s Were hearing couldn’t catch. “What was that?”

“I came to help you,” Dylan repeated sullenly.

“Help me with what?” Jared sat his bag of pastries down and crouched down next to Dylan. “Help me with what?”

“Freeing Jensen.”

Jared’s head jerked in surprise. Of all the things he’d expected to hear come out of the young Were’s mouth, that was not one of them. “How do you think you can help free Jensen?”

“I heard you talking to Dad, the Alpha. I know you want to get him out during this cage match thing, and you can find your way through the caves and remove his collar, but you don’t know how to get in to tell him.”

“And you do?” Jared’s brow furrowed.

“When I was on my own, I bummed around a lot, had lots of odd jobs. One was working as a busboy at a bar near the Mesa Verde Rez in Colorado. The guards used to come in that place all the time and talk about work. One thing I remember them talking about was how the kids, specifically the teenagers on the rez, came in handy for all kinds of scut work. They weren’t old enough or strong enough to work in the mines, so they put them to work as cleaners around the rez and at the gym. Specifically, I remember them bragging about the kids having to clean up the blood after one of their big matches, and one kid finding teeth in the blood. I figured there was no way you’d be able to waltz in there unnoticed, but I could show up late and say I was sent to do clean up and find my way to Jensen.”

“And what if you get captured? How would that make me and Jensen feel, let alone the Alpha and Kim? Your life would be ruined. You haven’t even reached maturity yet. As an alpha, even a teenage one, Sheppard wouldn’t waste any time putting you to work in the mines; maybe even putting you on one of the fight teams. Have you thought of that?”

“That won’t happen,” Dylan replied.

“You don’t know that! You can’t know that.”

Dylan glared at him defiantly. “You can’t stop me. No one here is the boss of me.”

“I can so stop you. I’ll get Osric to use the emergency channel and let Jeff and Kim know where you are. The Alpha himself will come here and drag your butt home.”

Dylan stared at Jared, some of the defiance leaking away to expose desperation. “You can’t. I have to do this, Jared. I have to.”

“Why?” Jared just looked at the boy.

“Because Jensen saved me. I would be dead right now if he hadn’t taken a chance on me. I owe him.” Dylan leaned forward in his chair. “I know you think I’m just a kid, but if you think about it, it can work. I can do this, I can. You just need to let me. Mom and Dad will understand. Together, we can get him out.”

Jared rose, his head throbbing. He needed to eat something right away.

“Okay, let me think about this. You eaten?”

“No, but I could.” Dylan’s eyes lit up.

“Don’t think this means we’re doing this. I just need food.” Jared grabbed the bag he’d brought and turned on the oven. He had a craving for the pastries, all heated up and fluffy.

“Are those your phyllo egg tarts?” Dylan licked his lips as he watched Jared lay out the eight tarts. “The ones with cheese, or spinach and feta?”

“The feta ones,” Jared said as he slid the pan into the oven.

“Oh, my Goddess. I’ve had dreams about those at the caves.”

Jared chuckled and rummaged around in his cupboards until he found a bag of chips. He dumped them out in a bowl and slid onto one of the island chairs. Dylan joined him and started inhaling the chips.

“Have you eaten anything all day?” Jared asked as Dylan hoovered up the chips. Fearing the kid might start chewing on the bowl, he went in search of another bag.

“Well, I got up super early before anyone and have been on the road most of the day, so I guess not.” Dylan finished the last of the chips, and Jared dumped in a new bag and pulled a couple of sodas out of the fridge.

Jared sat there thinking. If he could ignore the danger Dylan would be in, and if he had his facts right, the kid’s plan really did have some merit. If he could cross the space from the Rez to the Hub, where the fight was being held and worm his way in. They could have a real chance.

“How do we disguise you?” Jared blurted out loud.

“Well, I know Dad kept some of the orange coveralls and cut-off collars in the safe house, just in case we ever needed them.”

“He did?” Jared checked the oven. The pastries looked good to go. He got out a couple of plates and gave Dylan the lion’s share of the tarts. Jared only kept two.

“Thanks,” Dylan said as he pounced on the food. “So good,” he mumbled, his mouth full.

Jared had to chuckle. Teenagers were bottomless pits. He understood. As he ate his supper, he thought about Dylan’s plan. For Jared, at least, wearing a guard’s uniform would be the best, but with no access to one of those, the orange coveralls would allow both of them to blend in and at least pass for Rez residents if they were spotted. Same with the collars. They could jury-rig the regular collars Jeff had kept temporarily while they were there.

Jared looked thoughtfully at Dylan. The kid was no sheltered rookie. He’d managed to live on his own for years, and the kid was resourceful as heck.

Dylan suddenly looked over at him and blurted out, “I know you’re thinking about it. Can we do it? I’m positive we could pull this off.”

Jared was torn. He wished this didn’t involve using the boy, but was Dylan really a kid anymore? He was more mature than most adults. He looked back at him. “Let me sleep on it. Okay?”

Dylan fist pumped. “Yes!”

After supper, Jared made up a bed for Dylan on the sofa and flipped through the channels on the TV until he hit a mindless action movie. While Dylan yelled at the screen, Jared made them up two heaping bowls of popcorn.

It was nice having someone over, just doing regular stuff. Jared hadn’t realized how lonely he’d become alone in his apartment. Working on the Resistance was all well and good, but something like this, just watching a silly movie filled with over-the-top explosions and heroes who never got shot, no matter how many bad guys were shooting at them, was so homey.

It was the kind of thing he and Jensen would do on a Friday night when neither of them wanted to go out. Eventually, the good guy won, after kicking all the badasses on three continents (at last count). And although it was still early, both of them were drooping. Jared decided it was a good time to call it a night. Dylan had brought sleep pants and a change of clothes in his knapsack but forgotten his toothbrush. Jared set him up with a new one and a towel in case he missed him in the morning. After Jared had changed into his sleep pants, he snuck a peek out. Dylan was fast asleep on the sofa, rolled up in one of Jared’s favourite quilted blankets.

Jared lay in his bed, mulling over the possibilities. He realized just before he drifted off that he’d already made up his mind. He wanted to go ahead. The only question now was whether they told anyone or not.

Dylan was still fast asleep when Jared left for the bakery at 4 am. He left out cereal and a note: “Be back tonight. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t open the curtains. And if you’re still okay to do this when I get home, I want to, too.”

He imagined the whoop of joy Dylan would let out when he read the note.

The rest of the day crawled by. All Jared wanted to do was clock out early and go over their plan with Dylan, but fire after fire kept cropping up that needed his attention. First, his small ice cream fridge went on the fritz, and he had to call in a service man. Then one of his major orders didn’t come in, so he was on the phone for hours trying to get in enough flour to last through next week. He also had to call Sandy, their other cook, to see if she would be okay working the next four days. He lied and told her there was a family emergency, that he had to go see his uncle, who was sick.

Fortunately, Sandy was available, though he had to promise her first choice of Christmas shifts. With all that going on it was well past 7 PM before Jared was free to leave and start planning their op. He ordered pizza for supper and picked it up at the local pizzeria on the way home. He was sure Dylan would be starving again.

He knocked before opening the door just to give Dylan a heads-up. The teen was sitting in front of the TV watching music videos.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, setting the pizzas down on the counter. “I got a three cheese and one with the works, including pineapple.” Jared held up a hand at Dylan’s disgusted expression at the mention of pineapple. “Don’t complain until you try it,” he cautioned. He grabbed a couple of plates while Dylan shut the TV down and joined him at the counter.

“Good day?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, I think I slept till noon. Man, I was socked out. How about you?” Dylan said as he stuffed his mouth full of pineapple pizza.

“Meh, not one of my best. It’s over at least.”

“So, were you serious? In your note?” Dylan added. “Are we really doing this?” His eyes grew wide, and he pointed at his slice. Through a full mouth, he said, “This is really good.”

“Told ya.” Jared took a bite of his slice humming in pleasure. “And yeah, I think I am. Only thing I’ve been worried about is who should we tell?”

“Well, if you tell the Alpha, I’m sure he’ll say no. But I think that’s a mistake.”

“If we tell Osric, I’m not sure he’d keep quiet, either. I’m thinking we leave them a note.”

“Or a scheduled text.”

“What’s that?”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “You old people. You really don’t know how half this stuff works, do you?”

“Well, tell me, smart guy.”

“We write a text. Coded, of course. And schedule it to be delivered Saturday night. That way, if things do go sideways, at least they know where we are.”

“Oh, that sounds good.” Jared nodded and added, “I’ve been thinking through this all day. We need to leave tomorrow. Gather the collars and coveralls on our way out of town. I have a place we can stash the truck, on the perimeter of the Rez. If we arrive there Friday night, it would give us some time to get through the tunnels. We can sleep there overnight and be ready to kick into gear on Saturday. There will be a lot of waiting around, but better early than late.” Jared noted; it was good to say these plans out loud, especially for Dylan to point out any holes.

“Okay, as long as we load up on snacks.” Dylan grinned.

“No problem. We’ll grab a meal and buy food before we get to the mine. Sheppard makes the Rez work on Saturday, but for only the first shift. That can work in our favour. I think we can time it so you leave the mine at the shift’s end. It’ll be safer that way, and you’ll be able to mix in with the crowd as everyone exits. Only the alphas are really heavily chained and supervised. No one should notice you. Once you’re outside, you’ll need to find a place to hole up for three or four hours. I’m thinking somewhere under the supports of one of the old barracks, maybe. You can’t risk mingling too much with any of the residents. It’s a relatively small community, so if someone takes a really close look at you, you’ll be spotted as a newcomer right away.”

“Should we bring walkies with us?” Dylan asked.

Jared paused in thought, “I know we can’t risk using them with the Marshals around; they have the latest and greatest toys. But maybe the tech on the Rez isn’t so sophisticated. They would be really handy, too. We don’t know what we don’t know, and our plans will probably have to change on the fly. But the only source of walkies is Osric. He’s also the only one who would know if we can safely use them on the Rez. It means we’d definitely have to read him in on this.”

“I think being able to communicate would be worth the risk. Besides, he might be cool with this,” Dylan said, taking another mouthful of pizza.


Jared slipped through the shadows. He hated moving around downtown at night. There weren’t a whole lot of places to hide. Especially not for someone six foot five. But he got to The Iron Ridge Woolen Company without anyone spotting him and used his key to get in the back door.



“Walkies? Why the heck would you want those? Marshals scan those frequencies regularly.”

“It’s not for here. It’s…” Jared shook his head. “Can I tell you a secret? Can you promise not to tell anyone what I’m going to tell you?”

“Jared, you know I can’t do that. Just spit it out. I’ll try my best to help you if I can.”

Jared sighed, thinking, Here goes nothing, and explained their plan to Osric.





“Hmm,” Was all Osric said after he’d told him everything.

“Hmm good, or Hmm bad?” Jared prompted.

“Hmm good and bad. The kid’s got brains, and he’s brave. That’s a pretty solid plan, if you don’t get caught.”

“What’s the bad?” Jared chewed on his fingernails.

“I wouldn’t want to be you if anything goes wrong, and Jeff comes after you.”

“Yeah,” Jared acknowledged. “That’s why I’m not telling him.”

“Jared,” Osric sighed, “You can’t go there without backup. That’s just crazy.”

“I don’t know, the more people, the greater the chance someone will see us. I think the beauty of this plan is how simple it is. Get in, grab Jensen, get out.”

“Nothing’s ever simple, Jared. You know the old saying: No plan survives contact with the enemy. Hey, maybe Joshua and I could go with you?”

“No. No! My mind’s made up. It’s just the two of us. I’ve— I’ve got a feeling about this. That it’s the right thing to do.”

Osric rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. If I can’t convince you, I can at least stock you up. I happen to have a pair of military grade, shifting frequency encrypted walkies. Even if someone stumbles on your frequency, all they’ll hear is static.”

“How did you get your hands on these anyway?”

Osric grinned as he opened a cabinet and started pulling items out. “I stole a pair from the Marshals. Don’t ask how. Trade secret. We can’t use them here, but the Rez guards won’t have anything like this. I can also give you a couple of tasers and a stun gun if you want. Only has six shots and really only good at close range, but it might make the difference if you come up on a guard. Will keep anyone out for at least six hours. And I noticed you already nicked my kit to open the shock collars, so you’re good there.”

Jared blushed. He had lifted the case with the decoder and various screwdrivers, and wire strippers. He waited patiently while Osric filled Jared’s knapsack with the new items.

“What do I say to Jeff?” Osric asked as he handed the bag to Jared.

“If we aren’t home by Sunday, tell him everything. Tell him, at least we tried.”





The Pack’s safe house was on the far edge of Munter’s Gorge along an old logging road. After Jared, DJ, and Joshua had volunteered to be liaisons in Munter’s Gorge for the pack, they had been read in on the details. He’d known the pack had a safe house for a while, but the location was known only to a few members of the Alpha’s council.

Jared almost drove past the cut stump that signaled the turn-off, but stopped just in time. He drove down the unpaved side road, grateful again for his all-wheel drive truck and that the snow wasn’t too deep.

The road took a sharp turn to the left. Just behind a copse of trees, well hidden from the road, was a small stone building. It had been a pack lodge for a number of years, but as more and more people moved to the pack’s compound or into town, it had become a safe house. Now, it was used to help new Weres ease into the life, or to hide Weres wanted by police. It also hid the pack’s cache of emergency equipment and supplies, including the stolen collars and coveralls.

Dylan jumped from the truck first and walked around the old building. It was a beautiful example of stone masonry, with a slate roof and a small porch along the front. Jared found the key, hidden in a birdfeeder hanging from an old oak that overhung the house.

The safe house smelled of disuse, nothing but spiders and their multiple webs in residence. The floor, though, looked recently swept. Probably to hide any footprints in the dust. Jared spotted the broom leaning by the door.

He had been told the storage space was hidden off the kitchen. Jared entered and found the green pie safe, which was the entryway to the storage area. He opened the cupboard and removed the five shelves lining it. Behind the third shelf was a small keyhole. The key to the door fit perfectly.

A simple turn, and he heard a click. When Jared pushed on the back of the cabinet, the whole panel eased open. There was a sudden blink of light as fluorescents flickered on. Jared and Dylan stuck their heads in. The lights revealed a set of stairs going down into a basement.

Jared went first and found himself in a room with two sets of bunks along one wall and several tables scattered with various electronic equipment, gun repair, and bullet-making tools. One wall was a complete artillery of weapons. Jared’s eyebrows rose at the sheer quantity of firepower the pack had stored here.

Dylan looked like he was in shock. “Man!” He whistled in appreciation. “Iron Ridge slaps!”

Another wall held cabinets of different types of emergency clothing, vests, wetsuits, camouflage suits, and nets for tents or cars etc. The last cabinet held the orange Rez coveralls recovered from the escaped Weres. Jared and Dylan searched until they each found one that fit reasonably. On the floor of the cabinet were several of the regular collars cut off Weres during those same rescues. It didn’t take too long to find ones that fit each of them. Even not completely attached, Jared didn’t like the feeling he experienced when he put on the collar. The silver in the ring cut off his senses in a way that felt quite disturbing. It was like the normal world he lived in had been muted, locked away in a dark room. He and his wolf were stranded in a gray place where they could hardly sense anything around them. He couldn’t imagine living day after day like this.

From the look on Dylan’s face, he was having a similar experience.

Jared had bought several tubes of quick-drying glue, and they did a quick experiment on one of the spare collars. After a couple of tries, they found, if they didn’t use too much glue, it was relatively easy to pull the collar apart to get it off. He glanced around for anything else they could use and spotted some empty duffels. He loaded their coveralls and collars into one. At the last minute, he paused in front of the camouflage nets. It might come in handy. He grabbed it up, stuffed it in the duffel, and hefted it over his shoulder.

Exiting the safe house, they were careful to put everything back in place and to use the broom over the whole house to hide their movements. Then they climbed in the truck and turned back out onto the road.


They had only been driving for ten minutes, not quite outside the jurisdiction of Munter’s Gorge, when a black SUV began to tail them. Jared glanced in the rearview mirror just as it turned on its lights. A Marshal was pulling them over.

“Don’t say anything. Leave this to me,” Jared ordered Dylan as a Marshal got out of their vehicle.

Jared rolled down the window.

“Morning, Marshal. What can we do for you?”

“Insurance and identity card.” The Marshal was female. Their name tag said Keller.

Jared got his driver’s license out of his wallet and his insurance out of the glove box and handed it to the Marshal.

“Jared Pada—” The Marshal struggled with his name.

“Padalecki, ma’am, and this is my cousin’s son, Joey Milestone.” The Milestone family was a large one in Munter’s Gorge; it would take three detectives working full time to chase down all of their kin. But Jared specifically remembered Dylan introducing him to the real Joey one day when they came to the Bean after school. If his photo was on some Marshal database, Joey was also a good physical match for Dylan. “I’m just driving him to the doctor. He’s got a bit of a cold, and his mom had to go to work.”

The Marshal looked at Dylan skeptically. “Looks fine to me.”

Jared said nothing, just sat there.

“Please wait here,” the Marshal said and returned to her vehicle. Jared knew from Jensen that she would be looking up their names in the Bureau’s and Munter’s Gorge database.

The Marshal strolled back to their truck, the same bland expression on her face. She handed Jared’s papers back to him. “Seen anything unusual out here?”

Jared blinked. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question. “Um, like what?” he asked, honestly perplexed.

“Well, like wild wolves running through the woods, hitchhikers. Anything strange, really.”

Jared's eyes widened. “No, we haven’t seen anything like that. But we’ll keep an eye out.”

“You do that.” The Marshal patted the truck on the side. “And feel better, Joey.”

There was an awkward pause when Dylan didn’t respond to his new name. Jared tapped him on the leg. “Marshal’s talking to you.”

Dylan’s eyes went wide, and he pulled an earpiece out of his ear. “Sorry. I was tuned out. What did you say?”

The Marshal actually cracked a true smile, then. She shook her head. “S’alright. You folks have a good day now.”



Once the Marshal had gotten into her car and driven past, Dylan started babbling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize the name, and then I froze. I almost got us arrested. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay, it’s okay. Just a little mistake. You’ll do better next time. Great idea with the earphones, though.”

“It’s all I could think of.” Dylan shook his head.

“Well, you did good, you did good. It was a minor hitch. Now don’t worry about it. We’ve got lots of other things to worry about. Okay?” Jared smiled. He could see the boy was feeling terrible about his screw up. “Oh, and I have a mission for you.”

Dylan looked up hopefully.

“I want you to memorize the layout of the mine before we get there. You don’t need to memorize the tunnels to get out, I can handle that, or Jensen can, but you do need to be able to move around the mine and get in and out and know where you are.”

“I can do that. I’ve got a photographic memory.”

Jared’s eyebrows rose. Handy ability. “That’s great. That’s one less thing to worry about. Annnd, there’ll be a test after.”

Dylan groaned and rolled his eyes, but the tension had eased off his face. Jared grinned and started the truck, and they were off. “Let’s get going. We need to be just outside of Colstrip by supper.”



Jensen was on edge. It wasn’t about the fight, which would be over in a blink. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was on edge. He had no evidence of anything yet, but he trusted his gut. And that gut told him he was being watched. He kept checking out of the corner of his eye to see if he could catch someone in the act. He even positioned himself for work the last few days near the engine compartment of the conveyor belt. The shiny casing on the engine acted almost like a mirror, and he could watch the tunnel juncture without turning his head.

Nothing.

But it didn’t mean he was wrong.

At lunch, Jessup called him over to eat with him.

“Hey, Superstar. How you feeling? Nervous about the match?”

“Nah.” Jensen grimaced. “It’s not the fight. It’s this damn sense there’s someone out there watching me.”

“Just so you know, I have been keeping an eye out, too. I haven’t seen anything suspicious, but that’s not to say there isn’t. But we are in a freakin’ prison, we’re always being watched.”

“It’s not that, really.”

“Not trying to convince you otherwise. Just sayin’ I have your back.” Jessup rubbed the back of his neck and looked a little pained. “What I did want to talk to you was about your fight on Saturday. I thought we should touch base before you go in the ring. Remember I said that my leg was messed up in a match?”

Jensen nodded.

“Well, the match was against Grimfur. The guy is a sadist.”

Jensen blinked. Erica had told him of a couple of Grimfur’s signature moves, always wanting to get up high on his opponent, a drop kick, a bash to the mat— but not who any of his victims had been.

“Yeah, he climbed up on the ropes and dropped down on me like a ton of bricks. He’s pulled similar moves on other alphas. If you see that man maneuvering to get up higher, roll, move, dodge. He won’t go to immobilize; he’ll go to cripple.”

“Appreciate the heads up. That’s what I’m hearing from Erica, but she never said who he’d been up against. Sorry, man.” Jensen bumped fists with Jessup.

Back at work, Jensen grew thoughtful. He’d now had no fewer than four people warn him about Grimfur. It seemed obvious his strategy for this match had to change. He couldn’t lose and then bust out of the Rez if his legs were fractured in a dozen places. Sounded like he’d have to beat, then fake some pain or injury after the match. Tenth-ranked, was he?





Jared and Dylan ate supper at a little diner on the outskirts of Billings. Meatloaf was the special. It made Jared smile. Jensen had a bottomless appetite for the stuff. He told Jared it reminded him of his earliest memories of his family. His mom used to cook the most amazing meatloaf. Everyone in the family made sure not to have any plans on a night she planned to make it.

They picked up the promised snacks, too, packing them in their backpacks.

They arrived outside Colstrip just as it was getting dark. That was okay, though; it was nearly a full moon, and Jared knew the way from their previous runs as he turned off the highway onto a secondary road. That road turned to gravel within a few miles and then disappeared completely. About an hour later, they arrived at a rocky stretch of land honeycombed with tunnels underground. It had taken them weeks to scope out a path that actually connected to the mines, but once they found that route, it had been easier to find others.

Instead of leaving the truck out in the open, Jared backed it under a rocky overhang and covered it with the camouflage netting he’d grabbed from the safe house. If the Rez had any drones in the area, they shouldn’t be able to see it. Jared broke out the thermos of Grandma Soames’ recipe that he’d made up before leaving. He drank a full portion but only gave Dylan a half serving. He’d need the recipe to wear off by tomorrow night. It would be suspicious for the young Were not to have a scent, especially surrounded by lots of alphas at the fight. After finishing off the tea, he and Dylan loaded up their knapsacks and headed into the tunnels.

This was the part Jared was most unsure of. He had memorized the tunnels but had never actually experienced being in them himself, how disorienting they could be. Taking a deep breath, he turned on his headlamp and stepped inside.

Jensen was surprised when he heard a rattle of the cell block door and the sounds of several people entering the block. Usually after his shower and evening meal it was quiet with only the occasional guard making the rounds. A guest was a rare occurrence. He rolled his eyes, he hoped it wasn’t Sheppard. A late-night threatening pep talk was all he needed right now.

As the three sets of footsteps neared, he sniffed the air and sighed in relief and puzzlement. Erica came to a stop in front of his cell, a black bag in her hand, two guards by her side.

“Evening, Marshal.”

“Erica. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Coach thought you needed a cut and a shave before your debut. I volunteered; I don’t think you want Coach anywhere near your hair.” She grinned.

Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things that could have come out of Erica’s mouth, that was not one he would have guessed.

“Ah, okay. Is this a request or an order?”

She tilted her head and grimaced. “It’s really an order, but I imagine you wouldn’t mind tidying up that mess you got going on.” She waved her hand at Jensen’s long hair and unkempt beard.

He nodded his head. The woman had a point.



The guards stationed themselves at the bathroom doors, leaving the two of them basically alone. Erica lost no time setting up her tools, clippers and scissors, and trimmers. She pulled a stool from the corner and made a motion like she was dusting the seat off. “Take a seat.”

Jensen grinned and sat down. “So, Coach ordered this?”

“Not really. Sheppard did, he said he wanted you to look more like a Marshal again.” Erica pulled a barber cape out of her bag and unfurled it with a snap, wrapping it deftly around his neck.

Jensen nodded. It’s what he had thought. “You seem to have done this before.”

“Oh, a few times. I come from a big family, five brothers. I became the unofficial barber of the family growing up. Want a shape-up? I'm hella good at stars.”

“I think a trim is fine.” Jensen chuckled and tugged at his shaggy beard. “The little plastic razor they gave me kind of gave up the ghost once my beard got too long.”

“We’ll see if we can improve on that.” Erica’s eyes twinkled as she turned the trimmers on.

Half an hour later, with a demonstrable pile of hair on the floor. Erica took out her little brush and tidied Jensen off. “And we’re done. Want to take a look?”

Jensen turned and peered into the mirror, a little surprised at what he saw. No longer a shaggy mountain man, he looked more like his normal self again. His beard had been tamed and shaped to a three-day stubble. He rubbed his hand gratefully through it. His hair was the biggest change, trimmed back overall, the final look was longer at the front and shorter on the sides and back than he usually wore, but he had to say he liked it. It was a nice change.

“Wow, you’re good.”

“Nice! I’m glad you like it. Last chance for the star.” Erica said as she started stowing her tools away.

“I think I’m good.”

“Then I’ll leave you to shower. Unless you’d like some company that is?”

Jensen’s smile tightened, “Not, that that’s not tempting, but you’re talking to a mated man.”

“Oh, drat! All the good ones seem to be taken.”

Jensen laughed. “My mate would tell you otherwise.”

“I bet.” Erica grinned, nonplussed by the refusal. “Okay, I’m off then. Remember to wash behind your ears, we don’t want all those little hairs distracting you from your fight tomorrow night.”

“Yes, Mom. We definitely don’t want that.”

She paused at the door on her way out. “I don’t think you’ll need it, but good luck tomorrow, Marshal.”

Jensen grinned. “Thank you. From your lips to the Goddess’s ear.”




Jensen had warned him about some of the sound detection equipment and booby traps the guards had set up. Fortunately, they only encountered one on their way inside and were able to easily avoid it. Most of the tunnels that Operation Blackstone had marked out were narrow and twisty, barely wide enough for a man. Once in a while, they’d come to a space where the tunnels widened and created a larger space, which was a welcome change. His wolf whined. All these dark, enclosed spaces were driving it crazy. It didn’t help that the headlamps he and Dylan wore only went so far to illuminate the pitch-black space. If Jared wasn’t claustrophobic before, he might be now.

It seemed like forever until they heard the sound of jackhammers. Jared signaled Dylan to go back. They retreated until they couldn’t hear the jackhammers anymore, which meant they were out of earshot of the crew. Then Jared made base camp in one of the larger spaces. He told Dylan to sit tight; he was going to try to find out where they’d come out in the mine.

He moved cautiously through the twisty, narrow passageways until he saw light. Creeping forward further, he saw a crew of alphas working on an adjacent, much larger tunnel. There were eight alphas and four guards. Jared could see the large stenciled Sector 34 on the entrance to this tunnel. Not so far from the area where they’d last freed some Weres. He retreated back to their base.

“Okay, we’re here. Just past Sector 34. It’s marked on the mine wall in large white letters if you get lost. The bigger the numbers, the deeper in the mine you are.” Jared huffed out a relieved breath. “Now, we wait.”

They rolled out their sleeping bags and turned on a small lantern Jared had brought. He had a surprise for supper. Smiling, he dug out a bag full of phyllo egg tarts with spinach and feta that he’d set aside at the Bean for their trip. Dylan grinned as he munched on one. For dessert, they rifled through the bag of snacks Dylan had picked up and chewed on gummy bears and Twizzlers and tried to relax.

“Any chance they’ll find us here?” Dylan asked, a Twizzler hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t think so. Tomorrow is Saturday, my guess would be they’re not going to start work on a new section and then leave it half started for a day. But it’s a good point. If you hear anyone coming, we grab our stuff and hightail it. Let’s leave everything packed and ready to go except our sleeping bags.”

Dylan nodded. “I hope this works.”

“Me too.” Jared set his alarm for 6 AM. If anyone decided to scope out the little side tunnel they were in, he’d hear them coming.

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