Pack Possessed, page 5
part #4 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
“Besides,” Hunter casually announces, “Compared to everything else we’re dealing with, some extreme weather is a walk in the park. We’ve built houses from the ground up; if it gets bad enough to signal a real apocalypse and the world floods, we can manage to slap together a boat easily enough. If anything, you should be giving Slade a hard time, not us. He’s the one that was pushing for a clean slate.”
Slade chuckles, fixing the twisted strap of the small, waterproof athletic bag on his back. “Well would you look at that, he actually does have a sense of humor. Who wou-”
My startled yelp cuts him off as my foot is suddenly sucked down in the mud up to my knee. We’ve wading through countless puddles on our trek so far without any more issues than soaking wet socks, but honestly, I should have anticipated it and I’m mentally kicking myself in the ass. With as dry as it usually is here, coupled with their claims of occasional landslides, there are probably plenty of unstable air pockets underground. This entire place is likely a minefield of potential mini-sinkholes.
Bo’s tall enough to reach me without getting too close and risking adding more weight to send me deeper or sink beside me, so he takes point on hauling me out. Gripping beneath my arms, fingers splayed over my ribcage, he plucks me out with ease. My shoe is a lost cause, though, sucked down into the murky depths, and my sock right alongside it.
Sighing, he says, “I’m going to officially request you stop joking about this stuff out loud from now on.”
Setting me on my feet, Bo keeps a hand on my upper arm to steady me as I take advantage of the rain to wash some of the mud off of my skin. “What do you mean?”
His fingers tighten. “I know you were joking about the apocalypse thing, but between the hellacious storm and now the muddy equivalent to quicksand, it’s starting to hit a little too close to home. You’re getting stronger by the day, and we don’t really understand how your abilities work. I don’t know about you, but if a plague of locusts appears next, I’m out of here. That’s where I officially draw the line with this place, and we can take our chances outrunning that nutjob.”
Reid beats me to it. “That’s actually a pretty apt comparison.” He takes my free hand, encouraging us to get walking again. “Sure, you can incinerate things with a touch, but you’re not exactly chucking fireballs or shooting lasers out of your hands. These abilities are a mind fuck in so many variations of the words.”
Care to weigh in?
“Am I allowed to get two words out without you biting my head off this time?
Tongue in cheek, I take a deep breath through my nose that isn’t calming in the slightest. I’m sorry. It’s been a pretty rough couple of weeks and it hurt to find out that we could have been saved a hell of a lot of grief if you’d just spoken up.
“Like I said; until Damian removed the block, it was all I could do to keep the two of us alive. Making sure that your body didn’t suffer the same fate as mine did was my priority, and with the way you were already struggling with siphoning, I couldn’t show you. I wasn’t even sure if Acheron was still alive, let alone that he was the reason I woke up in your body.”
Reid strokes his thumb over the back of mine. “You were worried about being able to do what those three were hoping and made a few quips about a rain dance, but were also resentful about it; hence the first thunderstorm. And the last time you got pissed off, you burned down a mansion and murdered over a dozen people. Now that Ash and Xander dropped these recent bombshells, and since we aren’t prepared to go on the offensive yet, we get the storm from hell. A subtle ‘fuck you’ to everyone to tide your petty little heart over while you’re getting all of your ducks in a row.”
You could have told me. Given me literally any sort of heads up so we wouldn’t be completely blindsided when you knew that we were all struggling, and you had the ability to give us at least some of the answers.
“I could have,” she easily agrees, “But you forget that I know how your mind works better than anyone. All I did was ensure you had the support necessary so that my... affliction wouldn’t overload you until you’d had a chance to acclimate and were able to handle the influx of power without going mad. Then you’d be more inclined to trust what I had to say because you couldn’t claim that I was lying or manipulating you all this time, because you came here of your own volition. You chose to come to this place; I never influenced you one way or another. It wasn’t even until they were talking about this desolate place that I started to think it was the same mountain and that Acheron might have a hand in it. And the only way to outwit that power-hungry, narcissistic bastard is by reimagining the game. That couldn’t have happened if I colored your opinion and limited your perspective of things. He knows how I think too well and will assume that you’ll act similarly because of me whispering in your ear.”
So that story Kaige told us about the jilted lover?
Her gag makes my lip twitch despite still being annoyed at her for intentionally keeping me in the dark. “Acheron is a man that can’t stand being told he can’t have something. Each time I turned him down, he considered it a challenge to change my mind, growing bolder until it became a sick game. I don’t think he’d even know what to do with himself if he won, he’s simply obsessed with the thrill of the chase.”
Tabling our discussion for later, I force myself to focus because this is one of the last places I want to let my guard down by getting lost in my head. Embracing that spirit, I kick off my remaining sock and shoe, choosing to go barefoot for the sake of what remaining comfort I can find in what may very well be my final days.
When I sink into another pitfall, Reid and Bo both curse, managing to save me from going deeper than mid-thigh. Cinjin jogs over while they haul me out, his gaze darting between the ground and me. After a slight hesitation, he steals me away from his brothers, only to release my hand and crouch in front of me a second later, giving me his back. “We should put a little distance between you and the demons in this hellhole that are trying to drag you down to their level. Hop on.”
Eyeing the mud puddles at my feet, it’s impossible not to think of them as portals to Hell now, to envision shadowy hands reaching up through the cracks in the earth and pulling me down into their underground prison. “Well, when you phrase it like that...”
I wrap my arms around his neck and tighten my knees on his sides, sending another nervous glance at the murky puddles and the dark secrets that might be hiding beneath them. “Thanks for the delightfully horrifying picture that you just painted in my head. Now I’m worried I might have turned the puddles into mini-breaches and an army of zombie demons are going to crawl out. Remind me never to go swimming in the ocean with you; for both of our sakes.”
He rises up, sliding his hands under my thighs for extra support. “I’m thinking we’ll skip the scary movies for a while to be safe, too. If some creepy doll begins popping up everywhere at random, now, I’m with Bo and officially out of here. It was fun sleeping with my brothers’ wife while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end, and all that jazz. You can keep the murder-doll in the divorce.”
None of them seem to be having any of the trouble that I did no matter where they step, so we make much quicker time on the last leg of our hike, the warehouse at the far side of a clearing coming into view through the trees. “Sounds reasonable to me. Here’s to hoping we have many more years of making other people uncomfortable ahead of us before that happens, though. And really, I should thank you.”
Turning his head enough to kiss my arm, he hums a sound of contentment at odds with us arranging our hypothetical divorce. “What for?”
As a handful of guards hanging around the warehouse door set their hateful gazes on us stepping into the small clearing in all of our unimpressive, half-drowned glory, an ill-timed laugh slips out. “Because demon zombies and feral wolves don’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Far scarier things to be worried about out there, like possessed dolls.”
Slade oh-so-helpfully chimes in, “Technically, we’re possessed dolls.”
“One, that was hilarious and I’m ashamed of myself for missing the opportunity. Two, I’m stealing that to make my point.” I let their collective confidence soak into my chilled bones and breathe easier than before, the knot in my stomach unraveling a bit. “Which means we have no reason to worry because we’re officially the scariest things in these woods.” Catching Bo’s eye, I wink. “Big enough monsters to keep the rest of them at bay.”
Turning away from his quiet laughter, I rest my chin on Cinjin’s shoulder as he says, “No wonder you were against us showering you with a life of luxury. Awful situations bring out the best in you, sweet girl.”
I bite back the witty retort on the tip of my tongue. By default, I tend to hide behind humor as a way to deal with my problems when I’m around Cinjin, but ultimately, that’s not him. His wolf became the person he needed most when everyone else let him down, rose up to protect the kid that was beaten down by the world and tried his damndest to make him smile even when everything was scary and hard to deal with. While some of that may have rubbed off on the man behind the guardian demon, I need to make sure Cinjin understands that I choose him and always will, that I see him, too.
“No, awful situations inspire me to get creative. It’s you guys that bring out the best in me. And the worst, but that’s actually a good thing. It means that deep down, I know you’ll still love me even at my lowest, so I don’t have to pretend to be okay around you.”
Hunter pauses, staring at me for a moment before continuing on without giving me a chance to decipher his swiftly veiled expression. “Looks like you were wrong, then. Might be a recipe to get outvoted at times, but I suppose seven is your lucky number after all.”
“Happy to be proven wrong; on several accounts.” I give Cin a brief, choking hug. “So if it’s alright with you, I think I’ll torch our hypothetically drafted divorce papers. Unfortunately, the captain may have to go down with the ship, but she’s not above handcuffing herself to her first mate to drag him down with her.”
Tightening his grip, he murmurs, “What if this were a perfect world?”
Cocking my head, I rest my cheek on his shoulder to see his scrunched-up face better. “Hmm?”
Face smoothing out, he chuckles. “What Emmy was talking about when she chose her mates. She answered ‘one that felt like drowning.’ I didn’t fully understand Luca’s reply at the time, because back then, I was drowning and couldn’t see the appeal. ‘Loving someone so much that you can’t breathe, and still sinking into their embrace, knowing the peace that’s waiting for you on the other side of pain if you’re brave enough to let go’. I get it now.” He cranes his neck to press a lingering kiss to my forehead. “No more running.”
My damned, jaded heart breaks in the best of ways. "No more running."
Tugging aside the collar of his shirt, I stare at the pearlescent blue mark on his shoulder that started us down the rocky path that led here. This time, when I sink my teeth into him, I know exactly what I’m doing.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a slow breath, but I don’t give myself a chance to dwell on any of the painful images or miserable emotions. His parents don’t deserve to occupy any space in either of our heads, but better mine than his; they’ve made him suffer enough. So I curb the impulse to spit on their graves as I get a few glimpses of a younger, bloody and bruised Cinjin on the ground as one of his fathers walks away, as he works on his aim while one shouts threats against Reid if he misses again. I take it all, package it up, and chuck it in the trauma pile waiting to be burned where those memories can’t haunt him anymore. And rather than let them eat away at me, I use them as encouragement to remind me what it is that I’m fighting for.
A chance. A future where we don’t have to fight tooth and nail to earn every scrap of joy, to live our best lives out of spite of everyone that tries to stand in our way.
He stumbles forward with a curse, hissing in a sharp breath. Only Kaige’s quick reflexes keep us both from falling, grabbing the back of my shirt. My solid grip on Cin keeps him from face-planting in the mud, and when he gets his feet firmly under him again, Kaige helps me slide off of his back.
His heated look makes my current situation of being soaking wet a hell of a lot more awkward as he adds another layer to that problem. “What was that for?”
Inspecting the damage, I trace the overlapping bite marks with the tip of my finger. “To make sure you always have a reminder that you’re wanted; both of you.”
A few of the men standing guard outside of the warehouse break off from the rest and head our way to investigate, so I switch gears as much for his benefit as mine. “Or, you know, it could be because I finally went feral like Emmy was so worried about, biting anyone that gets too close. I commend whoever’s brave enough to test the theory and ask for a blow job first.”
He slings an arm around my shoulders, falling into step beside me. “You’re funny.”
“Thanks, all of my jokes are cries for help.”
Our path is blocked by three men, and I bite the inside of my cheek to combat the crawling feeling on the back of my neck as I meet their beady eyes. There isn’t even anything supernaturally alarming to be found there, the unease that takes root is a visceral reaction simply to them; that sixth sense that everyone has to let them know when they’re no longer alone walking down a dark street at night.
Monsters come in all shapes and forms, but I’d happily take a rabid wolf or demonic doll over this kind any day.
“She’s going to get sick,” one accuses, shooting a condemning glare at Hunter, but there’s nothing in his tone that resonates as genuine concern. “You shouldn’t be so careless with something this precious; too many dangers waiting in the wind.”
The blonde on the left clucks his tongue. “Accidents happen in these woods all of the time, and it’s far more of a risk in current conditions. There’s hardly anyone around if something unfortunate were to occur.”
Hunter clenches his fist at his side, but attempts to keep his cool. “We’re here to speak with Leo, Merrick, and Sebastian.”
Silent up until now, the third asshole looks Hunter straight in the face with complete and utter loathing he doesn’t bother to veil. “And she is absolutely welcome to do so.” He leaves the rest of the threat unspoken, not backing down.
“You’re aware that we’re staying with them,” he states through gritted teeth. “And I’m sure they won’t take kindly to hearing that you left their daughter out in the rain over some useless pissing contest.”
A flicker of life sparks in his eyes; malignant, cruel, and excited. “We aren’t doing anything of the sort.” He sweeps a hand dramatically towards the door of the warehouse. “She’s free to come and go as she pleases. But I think they’d be interested to know that you’d rather leave her standing out here in the elements simply because you don’t care for her fathers’ pack. Not a very good look for the man they’re trusting to take care of their daughter.”
Another chimes in, leisurely running his gaze over me. “Or that you’re fine parading her around soaking wet.”
Before he can draw in his next breath, Hunter’s fist is buried in his face, the audible crunch of his jaw fracturing followed by the splash of him crashing into the puddle at his feet. “Watch your mouth.”
One throws a swing at Reid, but he blocks it, driving his fist into the man’s stomach. Damian’s there a moment later, tackling the third to the ground, mud splashing my legs from the impact. The men that had hung back up until now come running, and soon, it’s a chaotic mess of flying fists and insults, several of my guys swiftly caught up in the fray as it turns into a free-for-all.
As I sigh, Slade sidles up next to me. “Is it strange that I’m actually... happy right now?” I follow his line of sight to Reid pinning a man beneath him, absolutely wailing on the poor bastard until his face becomes an unrecognizable, bloody pulp.
Glancing at Slade out of the corner of my eye, I watch the way he softly smiles at his younger brother the way only an elder sibling forced to become a parent can. “You want to join him, don’t you?”
Sheepishly, he scrubs a hand over the shadow of stubble on his jaw. “Horrifyingly enough... yeah, I think I do, a little bit.” He faces me, utterly confused on how to process the answer that came out of his mouth. “That’s insane, isn’t it?”
Chuckling, I take the bag off of his shoulders and slide it onto mine. “Go; have fun. Get all of that pent up testosterone out with the rest of the barbarians. Do me a favor though? Take Cin with you?”
“I don-” I cut off Cinjin’s protest with a quick kiss.
“You might not, but your other half lives for this sort of thing and isn’t used to sitting in the background for this long. It might be better to let him get a few shots in now so he’s more willing to let you take point later when you need to, don’t you think? A little give and take?”
Slade sighs. “You can’t go in there alone.”
“You really think Bo would stay behind? Kaige is hanging back, too, so they can come with me while you guys blow off some steam. Sound good?”
Pulling me in for a quick kiss, Cinjin jogs off to back up his twin as some guy lands a hard kick to Reid’s side that makes me wince. “Sounds good, sweet girl.”
Seamlessly transitioning, Bo shakes out his hand and leaves his unconscious victim behind as he and Kaige appear at my side, the latter holding the door open for me as we enter the warehouse. It’s a massive, open space, but in chaotic disarray. On one end, the metal walls are coated in black char marks that reach nearly to the ceiling. By the acrid stench that makes my nose wrinkle, they clearly haven’t accepted yet that no amount of cleaner is strong enough to remove the chemical smell from the explosions the other day. Honestly, I think the couple of guys scrubbing at it are making it worse.
Boden brings the back of his hand to his nose with a grimace. “Fucking hell, what’s this drug made of? Ammonia and skunk ass?”
