Chapter 8 Palmer
Chapter eight
Palmer
The club that had been empty just an hour ago was now filled with people.
All kinds of people, as though they’d quite literally waltzed in here off the street.
They stood perfectly still, facing forward, their eyes glazed over with an unnatural green sheen that made my stomach turn.
These weren't Scorpio's usual mindless puppets—there was something different about them, something more sinister in the way they moved in perfect unison to look at us.
"Shit," I breathed, instinctively pressing closer to Jasper.
"Their minds," Jasper whispered, his hand tightening around mine. "I can feel him in there, controlling them all at once."
I knew what he meant. I'd seen Slade control maybe two or three people at a time before, but this? He must’ve used his new gas to achieve this level of control. “That woman who let me out of that room at the compound, she told me he figured out how to turn his blood into a gas.”
“Fuck, hold on.” Jasper raced over to a supply cabinet and returned with a gas mask. “Put this on, just in case. It won’t affect me if he tries. This one has a microphone built in, so you won’t need to take it off to talk.”
I nodded and quickly pulled the thing over my head, making sure the seal was tight over my face. A mechanical screech echoed through the hallway as the overhead speakers crackled to life. Heavy breathing filled the air, followed by a pained grunt that was horrifyingly familiar.
My heart stopped.
"Palmer?" Hunter's voice, strained and frightened, came through the speakers. "Palmer, if you're there... don't—" His words cut off with a cry of pain that made me flinch.
"Hunter," I whispered, my body moving forward before I could think. What the fuck was he doing here? Jasper's arm wrapped around my waist, holding me back.
"Careful, darling," he warned, eyes scanning the crowd. "This is exactly what he wants."
He was right, of course. But this was Hunter—my best friend, the only person from my old life who'd ever truly cared about me. The thought of him in Scorpio's hands made me feel sick.
The speakers crackled again, and this time Scorpio's smooth, cultured voice filled the air. "Come now, babe. Did you really think I wouldn't notice our old friend showing up? So careless of you, letting him wander around here, unprotected."
My hands clenched into fists. "I didn't let him do anything," I growled, though Scorpio couldn't hear me. "I didn't even know he was here."
The mind-controlled crowd shifted, parting like a wave to create a path toward the stairs—an invitation, or, more likely, a trap.
"I’ll give you three minutes to surrender yourself.
We’re waiting on the main dance floor," Scorpio's voice continued, calm and controlled.
"After that, well... I'm curious to see how long your friend can maintain his mental fortitude.
He's quite resistant to my influence, you know.
Makes me wonder what other secrets he might be hiding. "
Jasper's tail wrapped protectively around my waist. "We need a plan," he murmured against my ear. "If we go spirit form—"
"He'll hurt Hunter," I finished. The mate bond pulsed between us, and I could feel Jasper's frustration matching my own. "He knows we can phase through walls now. He'll be expecting it."
Another cry of pain from Hunter made me jump. This time, I could hear what sounded like glass breaking in the background.
"Two minutes, babe."
"I have an idea," I said, turning to face Jasper. "But you're not going to like it."
His eyes narrowed.
"Look, he wants me. So let's give him what he wants."
"Absolutely not."
"Just listen," I insisted. "You can follow in spirit form. He won't be able to sense you if I'm there as a distraction. The second he's focused on me—"
"One minute!" Scorpio's voice sang out, followed by the distinct sound of fists on flesh and Hunter's muffled groans.
The crowd around us began to move, closing in slowly. Their blank eyes fixed on us with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
I grabbed Jasper's face between my hands. "Trust me," I whispered. "Please."
For a moment, I thought he would refuse. Then he hugged me, hard and desperate, before pulling back with a growl, double-checking the fit of the mask on my face. "If he so much as touches you—"
I managed a small smile. "Just be ready."
"Thirty seconds, Palmer, babe! Tick tock!"I ran to the dance floor, desperate to rescue my friend. The puppets laughed as I sped past them, not one of them so much as reached for me. I wasn’t surprised. Slade wouldn’t want anyone else hurting what he wanted to hurt himself.
I rounded the final corner and swallowed the pain that threatened to overtake me as I took in the sight before me.
Hunter knelt at his feet, blood dripping from his nose, one arm hanging at an unnatural angle.
When his eyes met mine, there was no confusion, only a sharp intelligence behind the pain.
We'd seen each other like this plenty of times during our training at Montague, desperate to prove ourselves smart enough to get out of whatever hellish training sequence they decided to put us through that day.
This was real though, and what I saw in his expression now was a warning. He was trying to tell me something.
"That gas mask looks fucking hot on you, babe,” Slade said, adjusting his own mask, the studded leather one he’d been wearing at Fight Night. “I guess you figured out my new trick? Aren’t you impressed?”
I held up my middle finger. He didn’t deserve my words.
He roared with laughter.
“I have to admit," Scorpio said, standing over Hunter, completely at ease as though nothing could ever threaten him, "seeing the two of you together again brings back memories.
" His hand rested on Hunter's shoulder, squeezing until Hunter winced.
"Remember our training days? The three of us were quite the team before everything went. .. sideways."
I took another step forward, my hands raised to show I was unarmed. "Let him go, Slade. This is between us."
His eyes crinkled at the corners—he was smiling behind that mask. "But that's where you're wrong, Palmer. You see, Hunter here made it his business when he clearly came here looking for you." His grip on Hunter tightened. "Tell me, did Asrael send him? Or did you?"
Hunter's eyes flickered to mine again, and I caught his meaning this time. Whatever had brought him to Port Black, it wasn’t me, but it was important enough that he'd risked crossing paths with me on his own mission.
I had no idea Slade and Scorpio were the same person, so I could only imagine how shocked Hunt had been when he figured that out.
"Neither," Hunter ground out, his voice rough with pain but still steady. "Maybe I just missed your charming personality."
Scorpio laughed, but the sound was hollow. "Still the smartass, I see. Though I have to wonder..." His free hand moved to Hunter's throat. "Are you two finally going to admit you’re more than just friends?" He practically spat the word.
Hunter grunted as he sat up higher, attempting to loosen the Scorpio’s grip on his neck. "We don’t have to admit shit to you, you fucking psychopath."
I shot a death glare at Hunter. Shut up, idiot.
Scorpio's grip tightened on his throat, cutting off his words. "As touching as this reunion is, I'm growing rather bored."
I felt Jasper's presence shift behind me through our bond. He was moving into position, but for what? My mind raced, trying to think three steps ahead like we'd been trained. Hunter never did anything without a reason.
"You've changed," I said, drawing Slade's attention back to me. "The mind control—it's different. Stronger." I gestured to the crowd of possessed people around us. "Even with the gas you created, what did you do to yourself?"
His eyes flashed that toxic green again. "I evolved. Something you'd understand if you hadn't been so busy playing house with Asrael." He tilted his head, studying me. "Though lately you've been keeping interesting company. A ghost? Demons? Really, babe? I expected better from you."
Hunter's good hand twitched at his side—a subtle movement that would have been imperceptible to anyone who hadn't trained with him for years. It was one of our old signals: he's about to move.
I barely had time to process what that meant before Hunter drove his elbow back into Scorpio's ribs.
The move was desperate and sloppy, so unlike Hunter, I almost missed what he was really doing.
As Scorpio shifted his weight to absorb the blow, Hunter swept his leg out, aiming not for Scorpio but for the floor beneath them.
The sound of shattering wood filled the air as Hunter's boot connected with what I now realized was a trap door.
They both went down, and seconds later, there was the distinct thump of two bodies hitting the floor.
Oh fuck, let him be okay. I scrambled to the hole in the floor, trying to see through the darkness.
"Palmer, move!" Hunter shouted, suddenly materializing in the darkness as he awkwardly climbed the ladder toward me with his injured arm.
I was already in motion. I reached down and grabbed his good arm, pulling him up and out of the hole.
We breathed heavily as we looked into each other’s eyes.
It felt like time had slowed to a crawl, for just that moment.
Then, all at once, reality came crashing back in as the mind-controlled crowd surged toward us.
Years of training with Hunter kicked in, and I found myself falling into our old rhythm—back-to-back, just like at Montague.
But this wasn't a training exercise, and Slade was done playing games. We were surrounded, and sadistic laughter filled the air as Slade jumped out of the trap door, landing on his feet. I had no idea what he’d been doing to enhance his abilities, but it wasn’t natural.