Time seems to slow as I slam the heel of my palm against the gun in front of me, wrapping a hand around the guy’s neck and jerking him forward to be my living shield as shots are fired in my direction. By turning to deal with the current threat, the men that should have held their weapons trained on Cinjin and Kaige give them an opening. Keeping my shield in place, I catch the gun Cin tosses my way and take down the last three as he slams his fist in Jackson’s face.
The other men in the warehouse have dropped their crates to draw their weapons, but they don’t make a move to pull the triggers when they see the stolen semi-automatic, I have pressed to their alpha’s temple. They look at Brent expectantly, noting the way my arm is now wrapped around his throat, all but handing the alpha the golden key to dispatching the threat.
Yet nothing happens.
“What the fuck?” Brent murmurs, his body tensing as he realizes how precarious of a position he’s actually in. His saving grace that he abuses is useless, and he has no other tricks up his sleeve to fall back on.
Kaige casually strides closer, but stops far enough away that there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he isn’t making contact. Giving the rest of the room his back, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, rocking back on his heels in a subtle mockery of the alpha’s earlier posturing. Bright orange eyes lock onto Brent’s face, focusing on the bead of sweat trickling down his temple.
Kaige’s voice takes on a taunting lilt as he scolds, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to touch things that don’t belong to you? These wolves aren’t your toys, Brent. You don’t get to play with them.”
Smart man, keeping Sabrina out of this.
Nostrils flaring, he inhales, and with it, I watch his entire lethal presence grow while Brent’s seems to shrink with every passing second. By the time Kaige is done, the Stonewood alpha doesn’t even register as a blip on my internal radar as a threat anymore. The rest of the men surrounding us pick up on it too, that sixth sense of survival instinct. Other than a few nervous glances, they stay still; prey that doesn’t want to draw the attention of a predator. It’s easy enough to pretend that we’re human most of the time, but moments like these, it’s impossible to deny how much we’re ruled by instinct, even with our other halves sealed away.
Turning his attention to Jackson, Kaige cocks his head slightly, assessing him with predatory intent. The sound of the beta’s heartbeat picks up, bringing a satisfied smirk to Kaige’s face. “I think we’ve all learned a valuable lesson here today. That’s no way to speak about a lady, now is it?”
Jaw clenched tight, Jackson shakes his head once in a jerking motion, disdain burning in his eyes.
Kaige prowls closer, patting the beta’s cheek twice. “Good boy. Now, how about you fetch me Carter? My patience isn’t what it used to be.”
Jackson stumbles a step before hastening out of the door towards the remaining SUVs, the room holding a collective breath. Kaige pays them no mind, picking at a hangnail, so I address the frozen crowd in his stead, falling into the role far too comfortably with a foreign alpha.
“I highly recommend you grab your shit and get out before they’re back.”
The undercurrent of the threat beneath my words breaks the spell, and they start scurrying like rats. Weapons are holstered, and the last of the crates are shuffled in double-time. Leaving them to it, I glance over to where my brother’s still holding his position, gun to one guy’s forehead and boot on his chest, and give him a subtle nod.
Like I ruined his entire day, he sighs dramatically, but takes a step back, and I follow suit, releasing Brent. As much as I’d like to, taking out the head of another family without just cause would break every fragile treaty we have in place. The others would consider it an official declaration of war, and as skilled as we may be, unless these three decide to bring some of their packs out here to help us, it’d be suicide. Small groups, or one pack at a time, sure, I have confidence we could pull it off. But if all seven of them came at us in a coordinated attack, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Even if by some miracle we pulled it off, it wouldn’t be unscathed, and I’m not willing to gamble Sabrina and Emmy’s lives for the brief satisfaction I’d get putting a bullet in Brent’s skull.
As the last crate is being carted out the door, the man of the hour arrives. Ankles and wrists bound, he struggles, but can’t break out of the fireman’s carry Jackson has him in. Dumping Carter at Kaige’s feet with all of the respect of pissing on an altar, he takes a few heaving breaths, biting back everything he wishes he could spit in his face.
Still, he’s untrained; a poor fit to carry the mantle of a pack’s beta. Unable to conceal his venom, he declares, “We’re even now.”
Kaige uses his boot to turn Carter’s terrified face his way for inspection. Unimpressed, he doesn’t bother to look at Jackson as he responds, “If you think this man is worth that much, you have too much stock in yourselves.” Carter tries to squirm away, but Kaige’s boot on his throat pins him in place. “It’s a good start, though, at least.”
Jackson opens his mouth, but his retort is stolen from him as Brent cuts him off. “He never should have fucked up my pack’s chances at Emmeline anyway. Have Adrian send me a message when you’re done and I’ll arrange a cleanup crew.” With that, he walks towards the exit with his head held high, but on shaky legs.
With a hate-filled glare that promises revenge thrown at each of us, Jackson follows behind. By the time the two are out of the door, the semi is pulling away, brakes screeching in a godsawful way in its departure. I head over to close the loading dock door, and when I return, the crunch of gravel signals the last of the Stonewoods’ disappearance.
“Well, that was fun,” Adrian states with far too much enthusiasm. “I’ll leave you to it, then, because something tells me this is going to take a while, and unfortunately, I have things I still need to get done. Enjoy your revenge, boys. Give me a call when you’re done, and I’ll send Brent the bill.”
With a mocking salute, Adrian strides out of the warehouse and leaves us to it. The reverberation of the heavy metal door slamming shut behind him sets Carter off, hearing his fate sealed with such audible finality. Struggling in earnest now, his shouts are muffled by the duct tape on his mouth, and he manages nothing more than squirming in place.
Chuckling, Kaige removes his foot. “Now, this won’t do.” Crouching down beside him, he pinches the corner of the tape and rips it off of Carter’s mouth in a solid jerk. “It’s no fun if we can’t hear you scream.”
“I didn’t touch her like that, I swear,” he immediately pleads.
Kaige rises up, striding over to one of the empty oil drums and turning it into the best seat in the house. “Don’t mind me, I’m here to enjoy the show. You're the ones owed blood.”
Tilting my head in silent respect, I turn all of my attention on Carter. “You didn’t rape her, you mean? That’s seriously the line you’re going with for a defense? Like we should be happy that you didn’t sink that fucking low before you were interrupted?”
Hair too short to get a good grip on, I snag a fistful of his shirt, slamming him back into the concrete. The dull thud of impact is followed by a waft of blood that draws a satisfied rumble from my chest. Being away from Sabrina always leaves me restlessly agitated, and the tension from this meeting, the anticipation offinallysetting something right, hasn’t made it any easier to manage the volatile energy coiled in my chest. The scent of his blood fills my senses, coating my tongue until I can practically taste it. It’d be so easy; we’re less than half an hour away from sunset, and I feel stronger than ever. I could let the shift take over, set my other half loose to sink his teeth into Carter’s flesh, to tear him limb from limb.
But that’d be too quick.
Releasing him, I get to my feet. The kick that I drive into his side has his ribs cracking, the splintering of bone and his howl of pain music to my ears. While I usually prefer to get jobs over and done with, maybe get a sense of satisfaction punishing some of the worst of the men we’re hired to kill, it’s from a place of justice, of making those monsters pay for what they’ve done and ridding the world of them. Cinjin? He revels in dragging things out, lives for their suffering. I can lament leaving a family without their sole provider, no matter what a son of a bitch he may have been, but my brother lacks that empathy. All cruel smiles and twisted games before moving onto the next without letting any of them take up space in his head to haunt him, perfectly at peace with what we do.
At least, until Sabrina appeared. She’s the first thing he hasn’t looked at like a game in over two decades, but rather wants to coax her into playing themwithhim. To impress her, to keep her at his side and make him remember what it’s like to give a shit about anything.
