“You’re an addict,” Hunter interrupted. “Even if you won’t admit it to yourself.”
“Go wait by the fucking car, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Hunter sniggered, pulling his hood up to shadow his face. He turned, disappearing around the corner as Axel stood, the wind whipping up the surrounding leaves. “Why did Kace have to take in a stray?” he muttered quietly, dragging a hand down his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble. His muscles twitched, the ache behind his eyes intensifying as he returned to the dealer.
“Brimstone?” he barked, grabbing the cash from his back pocket.
“All out of the normal stuff,” the dealer said, crouching by his backpack. “But I have the new Crimson Mist, it just came in.” His hand disappeared into the bag, pulling out a handful of small, metal canisters.
“Crimson Mist?” Axel picked up one of the canisters, thumb brushing against the embossed insignia on the side. The metal was cool beneath his touch, the image of a skull with antlers surprisingly detailed. He recognised it from the same stuff the guy at the Blood Bar had taken the other night. Axel had been desperate, resorting to searching the guy when he’d refused to hand over anything he had left. He had found nothing other than the empty canister.
“It used to be that red crystal brimstone, but after there was a hiccup with the supplier it changed to gas.” The dealer shrugged. “It’s some good fucking stuff, and the first lot is on the house.”
“Of course it is,” Axel muttered, pocketing the canister.
It was a familiar tactic used to get people hooked, offering them the expensive stuff for free first. Except Axel wouldn’t get addicted to the brimstone, unlike what Hunter believed.
“Let me have all of those pills too.” He hadn’t bought from there before, usually finding the small-time dealers in a few of the rougher clubs in the city. He tried not to go to the same place too often, not wanting to be recognised if he could help it.
“All of them?”
“Did I fucking stutter?” Pain was making him impatient, as was the blood that was slowly dripping from his nose. “Here, this should cover it.” He handed over a few grand, knowing he needed to replenish his stock for making the medication. He’d never run out before, usually making sure he had backup in case of an emergency. He was distracted, so fucking busy with the increasing Shadow-Veyn.
“Happy returns, friend,” the dealer said with a grin, handing over a pack of balloons too.
Axel didn’t bother with a reply, quickly making his way back to his car, unsurprised Hunter was nowhere to be seen. Relief softened his shoulders, but after he jumped into the SUV, he quickly sent Kace a text to check in on his kid. Hunter may have not been biologically his, but his brother sure as fuck treated him like he was.
Reaching into his pocket he found the canister, lifting it up to look at it once more in natural light. “A gas,” he mused, wondering how he opened it. “What are the balloons…” His hand spasmed, a sharp sting shooting to his fingertips.
Grunting a curse, Axel reached for the glove compartment, grabbing a knife he kept hidden inside before settling back in his chair. He wanted to laugh, the reality that it was broad daylight, and he was about to consume fuck-knows-what in open view. He never believed he would get to that point, but there he was, carefully piercing the top of the canister with the tip of his blade.
A high whistle echoed in the interior as Axel shoved it against his nose and inhaled. It lasted a second, the air frozen as it stuck at the back of his throat, causing it to spasm. Coughing, he closed his eyes, reclining his chair and waiting for something to happen. Anything, as the pain across his body began to consume him.
Chapter7
Sam
The wind was cool, the leaves on the tree that shadowed the bench rustling gently. The park was quiet, a few shouts from the kids playing on the brightly coloured apparatus while their parents watched, but other than that the surrounding area was calm. A burst of green in a city of steel and glass.
Sam scented Hunter well before he stepped into view, his skinny body covered with a black hoody several times too big. He hid his hands in the sleeves, his jeans clean and his trainers looking brand new. Bright blue eyes greeted him, his charcoal black hair tucked behind his ears.
“Why’d you ask me to meet you in such a random place?” Hunter asked, pulling his hood lower to obscure his face. But Sam had already seen the tears.
“Neutral territory.” Sam leaned back on the bench, stretching his legs in front of him. “It’s an open space so you don’t feel confronted, trapped.”
Hunter’s lips twisted. “You sound like Eva’s therapist.”
“Aye,” Sam chuckled. “Probably the years of going to one myself.”
“You went to a therapist?” Hunter finally sat on the edge of the bench, body rigid. “Why?”
“Many reasons,” Sam said, letting out a gentle purr to help calm Hunter’s jaguar. “But mainly to help me understand that what happened to me wasn’t my fault.”
“What happened to you?” Hunter sat forward, his eyes no longer wet, but still swollen.
“Talk to me about your animal, and I’ll share with you some stuff about me.”
Green teased Hunter’s irises, his jaguar possibly reacting to the purr, or the situation. Either way it was something, progress.
