Chapter 5 #2
The were’s canines protrude from his cruel mouth like razors, and his claws shine under the dim projector room light, as long and thick as steak knives.
And given the meager slice of moon hanging in the sky, he’s a born were, not turned.
Able to shift whenever he pleases. More powerful, more merciless—not a shred of humanity left.
But I could have guessed as much given the size of him.
My blood zips through me, hungry, terrified, thrilled. Ready to kill.
Penny makes a noise of sheer, genuine terror behind me. I’m a second from lunging with my dagger raised when the werewolf’s eyes go wide.
And those eyes…
I know those eyes.
That compelling olive green. Like the force of nature. The will of the earth. Not eyes you forget. They flit from me to Penny before the were begins to shift before us.
Golden fur gives way to smooth, flawless skin. Muscles retract, but only marginally. Eight feet becomes six something, and before I can put together a sentence, Ward is standing before us, stark naked.
“Oh, goodness,” Penny breathes, averting her eyes.
In my effort to avoid seeing werewolf manhood myself, I gaze down and am surprised to find the same tattooed symbols that Deacon has on either side of his neck—the ones Baz has at the base of his throat too—wrapped around both of Ward’s knees.
I look back up just in time to catch Ward flash Penny the kind of withering smile you’d have to be immune to charisma not to blush at. “Hey, buttercup.”
“Hi,” she squeaks, gaze locked on the ceiling.
But when Ward’s eyes meet mine, they’re just shy of furious. “What’s she doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I fire back. Not because I have such strong feelings against Ward—all deviants who pose a threat to mortals are quickly introduced to the pointy end of my blades, sure, but as far as werewolves go, he hasn’t wronged me yet.
No, my anger at Ward’s arrival is strictly because I knew Deacon was here but had no idea he’d brought backup.
I was too overwhelmed by the feeling of sensing a specific deviant.
I should’ve known, though. Wolves are pack animals.
When Deacon rounds the corner, my entire body ignites with a red-hot determination that is near impossible to contain. He’s not hurting Penny. He’s not hurting me. My daggers pulse at my hip and thigh.
“Howdy,” Deacon purrs to me in that rough, deep voice of his, ducking to slip inside the low-roofed projector room. “You sure came quick.”
“I bet you hear that a lot.”
Deacon’s eyes flicker. “Careful, Vivienne.”
“You followed me?”
“No, I had full faith in your survival instincts after I watched you toss yourself out my window. Figured I’d just let you scamper off to your next little adventure.”
“Yes,” Ward says, ignoring Deacon’s sarcasm. “We followed you. What did you expect?”
Deacon smirks. “And you did not disappoint.”
“You shouldn’t have brought her here,” Ward says to me, though he’s only looking at Penny. I can hear her bones trembling behind me and I want to kill them both just for scaring her. “It’s too dangerous for a mortal.”
“I just wanted to help, to—” She gulps. “To have something to offer.”
My heart squeezes at her words. Ward cocks his head at her terror-derived confession, as if he can’t quite understand his own reaction to her vulnerability. His ruthless eyes are warm, which strikes me as not just strange, but also severely unwelcome.
Deacon, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to give a single shit about Penny’s noble quest to have value in the fight against evil. He looks at Ward and says, “Gun room and dungeons were empty. Grab Vivienne and let’s go.”
My eyes widen. “So this is a Brood hideout.”
Deacon surveys me once more, a slight sneer in his painfully handsome features. I can tell his patience—what little he has of it—has run out. When he speaks, his voice curls with embers of rage like the lit edges of fine paper.
“I told you to leave the search for my brother to me, did I not?” I open my mouth to argue but he continues as if I should know better than to even try.
“Perhaps I should put a finer point on why people don’t disobey me.
You did bring the entire goonie squad tonight.
A real dealer’s choice. In fact…” Deacon tips his head ever so slightly—an elegant yet lethal gesture—just as Sophia and Elliot barrel in, ready to strike.
He doesn’t even flinch as Soph aims her crossbow at his head. “These are silver tipped, motherfucker.”
My stomach lurches. Elliot’s got his sword raised, muscles flexing. Sophia’s arrow doesn’t waver, and Ward’s eyes glow as he studies Deacon and the two hunters who surround him. Behind me, Penny’s breaths come in short, tight bursts.
“Maybe I make a lesson out of this one first?” Deacon says, nodding toward Sophia.
“Touch a hair on either of their heads and you’ll be ash.” My heart has worked its way into my throat.
“Might be worth it just to see you try. We had so much fun last time, didn’t we?”
Fury and fear and the knee-weakening desire for the kill roar through me. He’s right. I couldn’t take him before, but tonight I have something even more powerful than the magic in my back. Tonight I have my friends.
Even if he and I have the shared goal of tracking down Reid, his existence is a constant, unpredictable threat to mortals everywhere. I can smell the multiple souls he’s taken in just the hours since I saw him last. He has to die, and I happen to be the woman for the job.
“Penny,” I breathe, my eyes never leaving Deacon’s face. “Run.”
“Listen to your friend, buttercup,” Ward warns, fur beginning to curl at his forearms.
I swear I hear the claws sprout from Deacon’s right hand, but I don’t get a chance to see them. My skin writhes with the sudden knowledge that we are not alone.
“They’re here,” I whisper.