Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
REID
Haven’t been able to sleep in days. Can’t stop thinking about Izzy. About the Hunters. About the vampires and the witches and the plethora of other problems we’ve developed over the weeks that don’t seem to have a solution in sight.
“Dude, can you drive any faster?” Emery chirps from the back seat, leaning forward to place one arm on my seat and the other on Ethan’s.
“Get your dog breath out of my face,” Ethan retorts with a grimace, though his lips quirk up in a grin.
Emery exaggeratedly breathes on Ethan, and Ethan shoves at his shoulder good-naturedly.
“Dude.” Ethan runs a hand through the fluff of blond hair on the top of his head.
The twins’ hair has only just begun to grow back, and it sort of reminds me of peach fuzz currently. I’m just grateful they have eyebrows again. It was unnerving as fuck to see them without any.
Emery abruptly falls back in his seat with a huff. “Drive faster,” he whines.
“We’re already here,” Ethan points out with an eye roll.
I grunt something noncommittally as I steer the car into a parking space downtown.
When the three of us received a text from Jake telling us Izzy was back, we all left school immediately and came down here. We need to see her. Talk to her. Ensure she’s okay.
Ethan—the smug bastard—was able to visit her a couple of days ago, but the rest of us haven’t been so lucky.
I only have his word to fall back on. And who knows what has happened since he left?
It’s been days for us, but weeks for her.
Was she hurt? Is she able to control her magic?
Did she discover anything about herself?
God, I’m desperate to see her with my own two eyes. An emotion akin to hope clogs my throat.
“Is that her?” Emery asks, pointing out the window.
Ethan and I both follow the direction of his finger and squint. That hope hardens and sinks into my stomach.
“That’s a store mannequin,” Ethan deadpans.
Emery’s face falls. “Oh.”
“Wait!” Ethan focuses on something in the distance, his eyes narrowing. “Is that…? Oh shit!”
Before either of us can comment, Ethan throws his car door open and runs outside, not even bothering to shut it behind him.
Emery and I exchange an eloquent look before following after him. It’s only when I cross around the car that I glimpse what captured his attention in the first place.
The world fragments around me until all that exists is her. My pulse misfires, and I find myself running before my brain can catch up with what I’m seeing.
Izzy and Jake stand on a side street in front of a toy store that is, fortunately, closed for the day. Around them are half a dozen bodies. Bloodstains saturate the brick walls, with more red smeared across the sidewalk and dirt.
“Holy fuck, pretty girl!” Emery’s mouth drops open as he staggers to a halt in front of her.
His gaze flicks from her face, to one of the bodies, and then back to her.
“Are you okay?” I demand, hurrying towards her.
I resist the urge to grab her shoulders and instead study her from head to toe. I want to make sure there’s not a single bruise marring her perfect skin. The leaden weight in my gut lightens when I notice no new blemishes.
“Reid?” Izzy blinks wide blue eyes at me, and I wonder if she’s in shock.
What are the symptoms? I mentally think back to the anatomy class I took last year and—
Izzy wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tight.
I stand perfectly still, barely breathing, my hands flexing by my sides as if they have a life of their own. Wanting to touch her. Terrified she’ll be disgusted.
My thoughts churn a mile a minute.
My mate is hugging me.
Izzy is hugging me.
My nerves tighten and sing as each sense goes on high alert.
For a moment, I forget that I’m a repulsive beast of a man. That I look like a monster, and no doubt smell like one. Everything narrows down to Izzy—her arms around me, her cheek nestled against my chest, her soft hair brushing against my nose as I inhale. I could stay here forever.
And then a loud, jubilant voice cuts through the dreamy haze I’ve found myself in. Irritation quickly replaces it, crystallizing my blood and skittering across my skin like a large arachnid.
“Well, well. What do we have here? Six dead men…and one soon to be dead man.”
I lift my head and see Travan standing between Silas and Kyle, glaring at me.
I tense automatically, something Izzy no doubt feels. She slowly untangles herself from me and pivots to face the newcomers. Red clambers up her neck.
“S-Silas. Mr. Remington,” Izzy stutters, wringing her hands together.
The twins move to stand closer to Izzy, one on either side, their shoulders brushing her own in silent support. I remain at her back, towering over her. No one will get through me.
“Please, call me Kyle.” Kyle forks his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, seemingly at a loss for words.
“Can you all stop standing around and help us move these dead bodies?” Jake whisper-hisses. I completely forgot he’s here. “Holy fuck. I can’t believe this just happened.”
“What did happen?” Travan asks, moving to crouch beside one of the dead men.
He rolls the body over until he has access to the man’s pockets, then he begins to sift through them. When he finds a wallet, he smiles in satisfaction, pulling it open and grabbing out an ID card—and a handful of crumpled dollar bills, though I’m going to pretend I’m not seeing that.
“Who even are you?” Izzy demands, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling a penetrating glare at the crazy bastard on the ground.
Travan glances up, and I swear his expression softens in a way I’ve never seen before. He suddenly looks years younger and slightly less crazy.
Just slightly.
“My name is Travan.”
“Travan?” Her brows jump.
Travan stands gracefully and wipes dirt off his jeans. He then takes a tentative step towards Izzy, a multitude of emotions warring for dominance in his blue eyes, though not a single one settles long enough for me to read.
“I’m one of your fathers.”
Izzy staggers back as if she’s been physically slapped, and the movement forces her straight into my arms. Instinctively, I wrap them around her, grateful when she doesn’t shy away or recoil.
“What?” Incredulity bleeds into her voice.
Silas swallows and casts a pointed look at the bodies littering the ground. “Not here,” he rasps, then he pulls a cell out of his pocket.
He shoots out a text, and not even ten minutes later—ten minutes spent in the most awkward silence of my life, where I pray no one stops by and notices all of the goddamn bodies—three men and one woman appear.
Shifters.
They work quickly and diligently to load the bodies into the back of an unmarked van and then hose down the blood.
Only when the last body has been thrown inside does the woman turn towards Silas, her expression grave.
The two of them exchange an eloquent glance—one that makes words unnecessary—then nod simultaneously.
The shifters jump into the van and take off, leaving us alone.
Jake breaks the silence almost instantly. “Hooollyy fuck. Are you guys a part of the, like, shifter mafia or something?”
“Yes,” Silas says, his voice completely monotone, and Jake’s eyes widen, practically bulging out of his head.
“You’re kidding, right, boss?” When Silas doesn’t immediately answer, Jake shifts from foot to foot, his voice rising in pitch. “Right?”
“You know what I like to have after a little murder?” Travan interjects, clapping his hands together. “A nice, steaming cup of hot chocolate. Shall we head to the café?”
He practically begins to skip in the direction of the coffee shop.
I tighten my grip around Izzy, forcing her to tilt her head back to stare up at me. Her eyes… They sparkle. I’ve never noticed that before. Beautiful. So beautiful.
I keep my voice low, my words meant just for her, trying to ignore the erratic thumping of my heart in her presence. “You okay?”
“Am I okay?” Izzy chuckles once, the noise low and mirthless, and then shakes her head.
“That’s a goddamn loaded question. I just murdered seven people.
Or maybe they’re just passed out—fuck if I know.
Either way, I don’t feel a smidgen of guilt over my actions and have no idea if that makes me a psychopath or not.
I’m meeting my biological fathers for the first time—or at least, I’m meeting them knowing who they are to me.
At the end of the weekend, I’m going to be kidnapped by the witches again.
And…” She gives another rueful head shake.
“And I don’t know if I’ll ever be fine, Reid. ”
I wordlessly give her one last squeeze before releasing her. I don’t know what to say to reassure her. Words have never been my forte, and I’m still struggling to do…this. Whatever this is.
Be in a relationship with her?
Have her as my mate?
It’s all so fucking confusing.
But what I don’t say—but feel in my soul—is that Izzy will be okay. She’s stronger than anything that can be thrown at her.
My girl is a formidable opponent, and the world will soon realize why it’s not a smart idea to bet against her.