What the actual fuck?
Whiskey's jaw drops so far I'm surprised it doesn't dislocate. "You want tohirethem? The same psychos who just kidnapped you? Who poisoned you? Who?—"
"Who demonstrated more tactical skill in one afternoon than any of the other candidates have shown in months," Plague cuts him off smoothly, like he's discussing the weather instead of recruiting international fugitives. "Yes."
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. Everyone stares at Plague like he's just grown a second head.
Nikolai is the first to break it, naturally. "Let me get this straight," he says, his voice dripping with that particular brand of sarcasm that could strip paint. "You want us to work for the same government that we just committed about fifty felonies against?"
Plague's smile turns sharp as broken glass. "Having spent quite a few years of my life as a Ghost, I can think of no greater justice that Surhiira could impose."
"Justice?" Geo scoffs. "What makes you think?—"
A roar cuts through his words like a chainsaw. Closer this time. Much closer.
Knight.
The sound tears through me, bypassing my rational mind and going straight to some primal place that recognizes the anguish in that inhuman cry. He's hurt. He's alone. And if the raw, feral edge to that roar is any indication, he's losing whatever tenuous grip he has on sanity.
"Shit," Thane mutters, his face going pale beneath the blood from his head wound. "That doesn't sound good."
"Wraith," Valek says, and for the first time since this whole clusterfuck started, there's genuine worry in his voice. "If that monster has gone feral and Wraith?—"
"Knight isn't a monster," I snap. Okay, so he is. But he'smymonster. "And he's not feral. He's just…"
Another roar, even closer. This one makes the ground vibrate beneath our feet.
Okay, maybe he is a little feral.
"We need to contain the situation," Plague says, all business now. "If he's gone completely berserk?—"
"He hasn't," I interrupt, though I'm not entirely sure I believe it myself. "He's looking for me. That's all."
Raven moves closer to my side, his gun still trained on Valek but his attention split. "Goddess, are you sure? Because that doesn't sound like?—"
The world explodes.
Knight tears out of the palm forest like a force of nature. Sand and debris spray in his wake as he crashes through the underbrush, his burning blue eyes scanning the group like he's figuring out who to tear apart first.
His gaze locks onto me, and for a heartbeat, I see recognition flicker behind the rage. Relief. Then his attention shifts to the alphas surrounding me, and that brief moment of sanity vanishes like smoke.
He doesn't hesitate. Doesn't pause to assess the situation or consider the odds. He just attacks.
Geo is the closest, and Knight's clawed hand swipes at him with enough force to take his head clean off if there's contact. Geo throws himself backward just in time, the metal claws whistling past his face by inches.
"Fuck!" Geo rolls, coming up with his knife in hand. "He's lost it!"
Knight spins toward Nikolai next, metal arm whirring as he swings at him. Nikolai dodges with violent grace, and I can see the complete lack of surprise on his face as Knight's claws slam into the ground with the force of a bomb.
"Knight, stop!" I scream, but he doesn't even glance in my direction. His focus is laser-sharp on the perceived threats between him and me. Including the rest of our pack. A record screeches somewhere in the back of my mind.
Pack?
Yeah, right. That's a joke.
We're not a pack. Just a loosely collected band of misfits, half of whom despise each other.
And yet…
