Chapter 8 Palmer #3
"Missed you too, buddy," Hunter murmured, reaching up to scratch under what was left of Snake's furry chin. "Still ugly as sin, I see."
Snake made another noise, his version of purring, while his tail twitched contentedly.
Jasper watched with an amused smile as Snake abandoned Hunter's head to scamper down his arm. The familiar paused to sniff at Hunter's broken limb, making a concerned clicking sound before looking at me accusingly, as if I should have already fixed it.
"I know, I know," I told Snake. "We'll get to that."
Snake gave what could only be described as a dismissive huff before leaping to my shoulder, his little claws digging into my shirt for purchase.
I felt his consciousness brush against mine—a jumble of impressions rather than coherent thoughts.
Concern for Hunter. Wariness about our situation.
And underneath it all, a steady pulse of loyalty that made my chest ache with something like affection.
"Don't worry," I murmured to him, reaching up to stroke his patchy fur. "Hunter's tough, but you’re right. I should fix that arm.”
“Since when are you a healer?” he asked, raising a brow.
I shrugged. “Another newfound ability of mine. Here, hold my hands. I’ll have you fixed up in no time, and then we can go to the apartment.”
Hunter put his hands in mine, and I closed my eyes, focusing on his wounds. There were plenty. Bruised ribs, a broken arm, a head laceration, a broken nose, the list seemed to go on and on, but my power honed in on each injury with finesse and efficiency. The whole repair took less than a minute.
“Damn,” Hunter said, stretching out his arm in amazement. “We do have a lot to talk about.”
Snake chittered in response, calmer now that his beloved Hunter had been healed. His beady black eyes scanned the room. One of them was clouded over, giving him a permanently suspicious look that seemed oddly appropriate given our current circumstances.
Snake eventually leapt gracefully to the floor, scampering over to investigate the room with his usual thoroughness.
I watched him go, struck by how such a small, odd creature had become such an important part of my life.
Also, the fact that something dead could bring such vibrant energy wherever it went.
"He'll check the perimeter," I explained to Jasper, who was watching him with curiosity and amusement. "Old habit. He doesn't like surprises."
"Smart," Jasper nodded, watching Snake investigate a couple of the still unconscious puppets before disappearing behind a black leather couch. "Very... thorough."
The exhaustion hit now that Hunter was healed and the direct threat of Slade was neutralized. I sagged against Jasper with a sigh. I wasn’t going to get to rest. I was going to have to have a real hard discussion with Hunter about everything I’d learned about our mentor.
Around us, the previously mind-controlled people started to stir, their confused murmurs filling the destroyed club.
"What... where am I?" A woman in a business suit blinked rapidly, her hand pressed to her temple. The green sheen had faded from her eyes, leaving only fear and disorientation in its wake.
"Oh god," another voice called out. "This is The Exiled's club. We're in Haunt!"
That declaration sent a ripple of panic through the crowd. I watched as recognition dawned on their faces. They weren't just in any part of the city—they were in the heart of gang territory—the very place upstanding citizens avoided like the plague.
"We need to get out of here!" someone shouted, and that was all it took. The crowd surged toward the exits, their earlier synchronized movements replaced by chaos and desperation. They stumbled over broken furniture and shattered glass, pushing past each other in their haste to escape.
"Should we stop them?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. These people had been through enough tonight. Jasper's arm wrapped around my waist, and he shook his head no.
The sound of retreating footsteps and panicked voices faded as Hunter approached us, his movements careful and measured despite his injuries. Jasper's hold around my waist tightened, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Hunter.
"So," Hunter said, his eyes flicking between me and Jasper. "This is new."
I rolled my eyes. "Which part? The ghosting out, the zombies—"
"The PDA," he stated with a raised brow.
My cheeks grew hot almost instantly. I hadn't even really noticed. I mean, I obviously knew that he'd put his arm around me, but it was the fact that it didn't bother me. My skin didn't crawl, and I hadn't felt the urge to pull away. It felt… natural.
I felt Jasper tense through our bond. "And who exactly are you?"
"It's okay," I murmured, placing my hand on Jasper's arm.
"I should’ve introduced you two earlier.
This is my oldest friend, Hunter. Hunter, this is Jasper.
" The two men did the thing two men do when they meet one another—a slight tip of the head in greeting.
I continued, "Hunter's one of the good ones.
Usually." I shot him a pointed look. "When he's not getting himself captured by psychopaths. "
Hunter had the grace to look sheepish, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the blood drying under his nose.
"In my defense, I didn't exactly plan on running into Slade of all people.
I haven't even thought of the bastard in years.
At first, I thought I was just dealing with some lunatic.
Probably wouldn't have figured out it was him, but he loves to gloat too much. "
"Slade or not, what were you thinking, coming to Port Black alone?"
"I can take care of myself," Hunter said.
"Besides, you came here alone and seem to be doing just fine, but I can't exactly discuss the details here." The meaning was clear. Whatever had brought him here was classified. I just hoped it wasn’t anything he was doing at Asrael’s request, and if it was, well, I was about to blow that right the fuck up.
Jasper's low growl rumbled through his chest. "If this puts Palmer at risk—"
"I would never!"
"Or has anything to do with Asrael—"
Hunter's wide eyes met mine. I could hear his unasked question.
What all does he know?
I stared back at my friend. Everything. I made a gesture with my hand so he knew it was okay to talk openly about anything.
Hunter, once again, looked shell-shocked. He took a moment to compose himself. "As I was saying, I would never do anything to put her at risk," his voice sharp. "Palmer's like a sister to me. But there are things happening that you need to know about. Things about Emerald Lakes… about Asrael..."
"There are things you need to know, too," I sighed.
Jasper dropped his hand from my waist, but his protective stance didn't waver. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more private," he suggested, though his tone made it clear it wasn't really a suggestion.
We made our way to the apartment, and I was glad I’d taken the time to heal Hunter before making the trek up the stairs and through the hallways.
"Nice place," he commented as we entered the apartment, his trained eyes scanning every corner despite his injuries. "Very... luxurious.”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You didn't come to Port Black just to check on my mission status. What's this about Emerald Lakes?"
Hunter's expression shifted, becoming more serious. "I found Cam."
The name hit me like a physical blow. "What? Cam? As in, your brother?"
"Yes." Hunter's good hand clenched into a fist. "He's alive, Palmer. And you’ve met him."
My mind flashed to the only man I’d ever met with that name. A tall, quiet mage I'd met in Asrael's castle by the sea—the one who'd looked at me with such intensity when I'd mentioned Hunter's name. "Oh my god," I breathed, moving to sit beside my friend. "That Cam was your Cam?"
"When he heard you knew me..." Hunter's voice cracked slightly. "All these years, he thought I was dead—just like I thought he was." He laughed, but the sound was hollow. "Turns out we were both wrong."
All I could seem to do was stare at Hunter with my mouth open.
Jasper moved next to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, "I'll give you two some privacy. I'm going to go see who's still in the club. There have to be some loyal Exiled members left around here. We're going to need all the help we can get."
I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Cam was alive. The same brother whose loss had haunted Hunter for years, whose name he could barely speak without his voice breaking.
"When?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "How?"
Hunter's good hand trembled as he ran it through his tight curls, a gesture so familiar it made my heart ache. Despite his injuries, despite the blood still drying on his face, his eyes were alive with a mix of joy and pain I'd never seen before.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"When I saw him, Palmer, I couldn't believe it was really him.
After all this time…" Hunter's face hardened, his jaw clenching.
His eyes met mine, and I saw years of friendship, trust, and shared pain reflected in them.
"The things Cam told me about Montague, the place we called home, about what Asrael's been doing.
.. Palmer, everything we thought we knew is wrong. "
“I know.”
“What? What do you mean you know?”
“It’s a long story, but I recently learned a lot about Asrael. He killed my parents.” The words hurt to speak aloud, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind anymore.
Hunter looped his arm through mine as he released a deep sigh of relief, and I shot him a questioning look. “He killed my moms, too. I’m just relieved I didn’t have to be the one to tell you the truth.”
It was my turn to feel relieved that I was spared from being the messenger of such horrible facts. “Same.” I readjusted myself, uncomfortable with the amount of emotion that was trying to assault me. I forced a sad smile. "I always knew we were fucked up."
"Don't do that," he said. "You don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt. Not with me. Never with me."
I shook my head, my eyes stinging. I didn't have time for this shit. "I can't—"
"You can."
Hunter removed his arm from mine and pulled me close against him, and the second my cheek pressed against his chest, I fucking lost it.
I cried for what I'd lost—for the betrayal and the pain.
I cried for my best friend and his brother, for every single kid who had a story exactly like ours.
The part that hurt the most is the part that made me angry all over again.
Not only had Asrael taken my parents, but he had the audacity to step into my life and act like a father. I'd loved him, admired him.
Everything I did during my training there was to gain his approval. I pushed myself to be the best. His words of praise were all I ever sought.
I lifted my head from Hunter's chest, my face wet with tears I couldn't seem to stop. My hands shook as I wiped at my cheeks, frustrated by this display of weakness. I wasn't supposed to break down. I was Palmer-fucking-Vale, and I didn't do emotional breakdowns.
"I hate this," I whispered, my throat raw. "I hate feeling like this."
Hunter's good arm stayed wrapped around me, a steady presence that both comforted and terrified me. "Like what?"
"Like everything is spinning out of control.
" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
"Like every time I think I've got a handle on one betrayal, another smacks me in the face.
And the worst part?" I let out a bitter laugh.
"The absolute worst part is that I still remember how it felt when he'd tell me he was proud of me. "
My chest felt too tight, like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs and was slowly squeezing.
Usually, I'd push these feelings down, lock them away in that cold, dark place where I kept all my inconvenient emotions.
But tonight? Tonight, that vault was broken, spilling everything out at once.
"He used to call me his little warrior," I continued, the memory burning like acid in my throat. "Would pat my head after training sessions and tell me I was special. That I had potential." My fist clenched against Hunter's shirt. "And I ate that shit up like a starving dog being thrown scraps."
"Palmer—"
"No," I cut him off, pushing away from his chest to stand. My legs were unsteady, but I needed to move. "I need to say this. I've never... I can't..." I ran my hands through my hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. "Fuck!"
Through our bond, I felt Jasper's concern spike again. He wanted to come up, to comfort me, but he held back. He understood this was something I needed to work through.
"He killed my parents," I said again, but this time the words carried all the weight of my rage.
"He murdered them, and then he had the fucking audacity to raise me like I was his own.
To make me love him, trust him, want his approval more than anything.
" My voice cracked. "Who does that? What kind of monster. .."
The lamp on my side table exploded, making us both jump. My magic was leaking out, responding to emotions I couldn't contain anymore.
"And you know what the really fucked up part is?" I laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "Part of me still loves him. Even after everything, there's this tiny piece of me that remembers the good moments and wants them to be real."
Hunter stood, moving toward me carefully like I was a wounded animal. "That's not fucked up, Palmer. That's human."
"I don't want to be human!" I screamed, and another lamp shattered. "I want to be what he trained me to be—cold, calculating, in control. I want to shut these feelings off and focus on the mission. I want—"
My knees gave out, but Hunter caught me before I hit the floor. We sank down together, and this time when the tears came, I didn't fight them.
"I want my parents back," I whispered into his shoulder. "I want all those years back. I want to stop feeling like my heart is being ripped apart every time I think about him."
Hunter held me tighter, his own tears falling into my hair. "I know, Palmer. I know."
We sat there on my floor, surrounded by broken glass and years of suppressed pain, finally letting ourselves feel the full weight of what had been done to us.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't try to push the emotions away.
I let them wash over me, knowing that maybe the only way out was through.