Chapter 41 – FELIX
Chapter
Forty-One
FELIX
T he applause makes my skin crawl as I guide Juniper offstage, her body trembling under my hand at the small of her back.
She's still in character, head down, playing the docile omega to perfection, but I can feel the murderous rage from her like heat from a forge.
The second we're past the heavy velvet curtains and out of sight, she straightens, that submissive mask dropping like she's shedding poisoned skin.
"Fuck," she breathes, pressing her back against the wall. "That was sickening."
"You did great," I tell her, checking the hallway in both directions. Empty for now, just industrial lighting and the lingering scent of fear from omegas who've walked this path before. "Oscar-worthy performance."
"I need a shower." She scrubs at her arms like she can wash off the memory of all those eyes on her, evaluating her like meat. "A really long shower with really hot water and maybe some industrial lye."
"Soon." I catch her hand, stilling the frantic motion. "We need to get to the collection area first. Carlisle's waiting."
Her hazel eyes find mine, and there's that spark of violence that makes my breath short. "Any sign of our mysterious client?"
"No." The word comes out bitter. Weeks of investigation, following money trails that lead nowhere, and we're no closer to identifying who wants the Psychos dead. "Not yet, unfortunately. But if nothing else, tonight's going to yield a whole lot of dead creeps."
"Silver lining," she agrees, but there's disappointment there. She wants answers as much as I do. Wants to know who's been pulling our strings, who sent that kill squad after us in the woods.
The collection area is down another hallway, past doors I don't want to think about what's behind.
The whole place reeks of expensive perfume trying to cover the stench of misery, like putting silk sheets on a torture rack.
My hand hovers near the gun concealed under my jacket, fingers itching for the trigger.
"Where the fuck is Carlisle?" Juniper mutters, fondling the delicate bracelet on her wrist that's actually a garotte wire in disguise. "He should've been here already."
She's right. Carlisle's many things, and one of them is punctual. Especially when it comes to operations. The fact that he's late makes every instinct I've honed over years of staying alive start screaming.
"Felix." Juniper's hand finds my arm, nails digging in through the fabric. "Something's wrong."
Before I can respond, there's commotion from somewhere deeper in the building. Shouting, the sound of something heavy hitting a wall, then eerie silence that's somehow worse than the noise.
"Stay here," I tell her, already pulling my gun. "Lock the door behind me."
"Like hell?—"
"Juniper." I catch her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Please. Just this once, do what I ask. I'll be right back."
She searches my face for a long moment, then nods. "Two minutes. Then I'm coming after you."
I kiss her hard, tasting fear underlying her usual sweetness. Then I'm moving, slipping out the door and into the hallway with my gun raised.
The first thing I see is blood.
It's spreading across the industrial carpet in a dark pool, seeping from under a guard who's very clearly dead.
His throat's been opened up clean, the kind of cut that drops someone before they can even scream.
Professional work, but not Carlisle's style.
Carlisle likes his kills artistic, memorable. This is coldly efficient. Passionless.
I move past the body, every nerve on high alert.
There should be more guards. There should be alphas from the auction.
There should be Carlisle and Bane and the others.
But the hallway's empty except for the copper smell of blood and that creeping silence that means something's gone catastrophically wrong.
No sign of the Psychos. No comm chatter in my earpiece—when did it go dead? The auction should still be happening, but I can't hear anything from the main floor. It's like the whole building's holding its breath.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
I need to get back to Juniper. Need to get her out of here before whatever's happening spreads to?—
The door won't open. She actually listened. But when I give our secret knock to let her know to let me in, there's nothing.
I turn the handle, push, pull, slam my shoulder against it. More nothing. It's not just locked, it feels barricaded, like someone's wedged something against it from the inside.
"Juniper!" I pound on the door hard enough to split my knuckles. "Open up! We need to go!"
Silence.
"JUNIPER!" The panic in my voice would embarrass me if I had room for anything but terror. She was just there. I left her a minute ago, maybe less. She couldn't have?—
"What's wrong?"
Carlisle's voice makes me spin, gun raised before I recognize him. He looks perfectly put together as always, not a hair out of place.
"The door won't open," I tell him, already backing up to get a running start. "Juniper's in there but she's not answering."
"Move."
He doesn't wait for me to comply, just raises his leg and kicks with the kind of force that shouldn't come from someone in a designer suit. The door splinters but doesn't break. I join him, both of us slamming into it together, and finally the wood gives way with a crack like bones breaking.
We burst into the room and my heart stops.
Empty.
The room's fucking empty except for a curtain billowing in from an open window I know was closed when I left. The night air carries the scent of exhaust fumes and something else that makes my instincts scream.
My brother's cologne. That specific blend he's worn for as long as I can remember, the one that still makes me want to vomit.
"Felix."
Carlisle's voice is uncharacteristically gentle, and I follow his gaze to the table where a piece of paper sits, weighted down with Juniper's bracelet. The garotte wire's been removed, wrapped around the note like a bow on a present.
My hands shake as I pick it up, recognizing the handwriting before I even read the words.
Little brother,
Did you really think you could escape me? That you could steal what was mine and I wouldn't find you? I have to admit, watching you play house with these alphas has been entertaining. You always did like to pretend you were something you're not.
The girl is back where she belongs. If you want her, and I know you do, you know where to find us.
Don't keep me waiting. We have so much to catch up on, and you know how impatient I get.
—E
The paper crumples in my fist as rage floods through me like poison.
That motherfucker. That sick, twisted piece of shit has her.
Has Juniper. Took her right out from under me while I was playing hero, pretending I could have a normal life even temporarily, pretending I could be anything other than the weapon he forged.
"Felix." Carlisle's hand lands on my shoulder, and I almost put a knife through his wrist before I remember where I am. "We'll get her back."
"He has her." The words come out raw, broken. "My brother has her."
"You know where he's taken her." It's not a question. His voice is calm, but I see the chaos in his eyes. The same that's tearing through my veins like a forest fire.
"Yes," I say, my voice raw. "The Serpents' Den."
"Where is it?"
"Nevada. Outside Vegas." I'm already moving, heading for the door.
"Felix, wait." Carlisle catches my arm, and I actually bare my teeth at him, omega or not. "We need the others. We need a plan."
"Fuck the plan." I wrench away from him. "Every second we waste is another second he has her. You don't understand what he's capable of, what he'll do to her?—"
"I understand perfectly." Carlisle's voice drops to that dangerous register that reminds me he's killed more people than he bothers to count. "But charging in alone is exactly what he expects. What he wants. You're not thinking clearly."
"I don't need to think clearly. I need to kill him."
"And we will." Carlisle pulls out his phone, already texting rapidly.
"But we do this smart. I already lost contact with the others, right after Bane said Archer was MIA.
For all we know, he grabbed them, too. We need to make contact with whoever's left first and go as a unit, or we're of no use to Juniper. "
I want to argue. Want to tell him to fuck off, that this is my fight, my failure, my responsibility. But he's right. Evan's expecting me to come alone, emotional, sloppy. He's counting on me being the same scared omega he terrorized for years.
But I'm not that person anymore. I'm something worse. Something he helped create with every beating, every humiliation, every night I had to listen to the screams while I planned our escape.
"Let's find them," I say through my teeth, knowing he's right even if I want to peel off my own skin.
But soon, I'll settle for my brother's.