Chapter 40 – PLAGUE
Chapter
Forty
PLAGUE
The soft creak of floorboards beneath us makes my entire body go rigid.
I hold up a hand, signaling for silence. Whiskey freezes mid-sentence, his mouth snapping shut with an audible click. Ivy's eyes widen, her hands stilling on the blanket she's been folding into her nest. Wraith, already tense, shifts into something closer to a predatory crouch.
Footsteps. Deliberate and measured. Directly below us.
Valek.
My eyes meet Wraith's across the loft. The feral alpha's blue gaze burns with barely contained rage, his massive frame coiled like a spring. I give him a warning look and a slight shake of my head.
Don't move. Don't make a sound.
For once, even Whiskey seems to understand the gravity of the situation. He's gone completely still, an unusual state for him. His honey-brown eyes track the sound of Valek's movements, head tilting slightly as the footsteps pause directly beneath the sealed trapdoor.
The scrape of something against the floor. A chair, perhaps. Being dragged across the hardwood.
Ivy's scent spikes with anxiety, honeysuckle turning sharp with fear. Wraith immediately moves closer to her, one massive hand coming to rest on her shoulder. The protective gesture doesn't escape my notice, nor does the way she leans into his touch.
I ignore the uncomfortable twist in my chest at the sight.
"What's up here again?" Valek's voice drifts through the floor, muffled but distinct. His accent makes the question sound almost casual, but there's an edge to it that raises the hair on my arms.
"Just storage." Thane's reply is equally casual, but I can hear the tension beneath it. "Old equipment, holiday decorations. Nothing interesting."
A soft, disbelieving hum from Valek. "The ceiling seems higher in this section. Almost as if there's a room above."
"It's just how they built the place," Thane says. "The original owners were eccentric."
"I see."
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I slip it out silently, careful not to make even the slightest noise. A message from Thane in the group chat.
THANE
V is looking at the ceiling where the trapdoor was. Stay quiet.
I glance up to see the others checking their phones as well. Wraith's expression darkens, his hand tightening on Ivy's shoulder. Whiskey's usual grin is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a grim set to his mouth.
"You seem very interested in the architecture," Thane's voice comes again, louder this time. Deliberately so. A warning. "I didn't realize you had a passion for interior design."
"I have many interests," Valek replies smoothly.
More footsteps. Moving away, then back. Circling.
I watch as Ivy's knuckles turn white against the blanket she's clutching.
She's terrified, but controlling it admirably.
The purposeful, prowling rhythm of Valek's footsteps below us reminds me of a predator scenting prey.
This is not the behavior of someone casually exploring a new residence. This is a hunt.
My mind is working quickly, but it's hard to think straight with Ivy's scent so intense in this space. The floor between her and Valek seems increasingly insubstantial. Even industrial-strength scent neutralizers can only mask so much.
When Valek's footsteps finally recede, none of us dare move for a full minute.
Ivy exhales shakily. "That was close."
"Too close," I murmur, reaching for my phone and opening our group chat.
PLAGUE
This is NOT sustainable.
Whiskey's phone vibrates as he receives the message. He reads it and nods immediately.
WHISKEY
Hard agree bro. Silver-eyed creep obv suspects something and won't quit till he finds her
Wraith glances at the message, his jaw tensing beneath his mask as he gives a single, stiff nod.
THANE
But how the fuck do we move her without him noticing?
Ivy looks up from her phone, those ocean eyes clouded with concern.
“That’s true,” she whispers. “I can't stay here. If he finds me…”
She doesn't need to finish the sentence. We all understand the implications.
"That still leaves the question of where you go," I whisper back to her. "And who goes with you."
An awkward silence descends. The question brings the complications into sharp relief. Wraith shifts his massive weight, clearly already volunteering, but I shake my head slightly.
"Wraith is too recognizable," I say, stating the logical conclusion no one wants to voice. "His height alone would draw attention, not to mention the mask."
Wraith's expression darkens, but he doesn't argue. The truth is undeniable. A seven-foot-plus masked alpha is not conducive to stealth, and I’m assuming he can’t go unmasked without drawing even more attention.
THANE
I need to stay here. As captain, my absence alongside Wraith's would raise too many questions. I can keep Valek distracted. We're in the living room right now. He's busy criticizing Whiskey's movies.
Ivy considers this, frowning slightly. "So that leaves..."
"Me and Plague," Whiskey finishes, his tone uncharacteristically serious.
I feel three sets of eyes turn to me. The logical solution solidifies in my mind, along with the complication that comes with it. My jaw tightens as I realize what I'm about to suggest.
"We already have a suitable cover story," I grit out, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Whiskey's eyes widen as comprehension dawns, followed immediately by a grin that makes me want to shove my phone up his ass. Okay. Maybe not that. "You mean pretending we're—"
"Yes," I cut him off sharply. The insufferable bastard is actually enjoying this. "I'm sure Valek is well aware of fan speculation about our relationship. We could get a hotel together and no one would suspect a thing."
"You'd do that?" Ivy asks, clearly surprised.
"It's the perfect lie," I reply, keeping my voice neutral despite my internal discomfort. "You can stay in the car until we have the room key, then sneak in. Perhaps pretend to be delivering food to us."
Wraith's hands move in a flurry of signs, clearly expressing his distress. His blue eyes burn with protest, his massive body coiled with tension. Though I can't follow all his signs, his meaning is clear. He doesn't want to be separated from Ivy.
"I understand your concern," I tell him, "but your presence would draw too much attention. This is the safest option." I glance at Ivy. "If you're alright with it, of course?"
Ivy hesitates, then nods. She offers Wraith a small smile. "It's okay," she tells him softly. "I'll be safe with them." Her smile sharpens into a slight grin as she meets my eyes again. "And if I'm not, I'm sure you'll be ready to pick me up."
Whiskey blows a puff of air through his nose. "Yeah. Pick you up and twist us into pretzels."
"Exactly," Ivy says pointedly. "So don't fuck up."
Wraith's shoulders slump slightly, defeat warring with protective instinct in his posture. His hands sign again, slower this time.
P-R-O-M-I-S-E... T-O... P-R-O-T-E-C-T... H-E-R.
"We will," I say, meaning it. Despite my reluctance to spend extended time in Whiskey's presence in a damn hotel room, Ivy's safety is paramount. "With our lives if necessary."
"And between the two of us, we've got this covered," Whiskey adds. "Plague is the brains, I'm the brawn." He flexes unnecessarily to emphasize his point.
I can't suppress the eye roll.
We collectively develop the framework of a strategy over the group chat.
Thane will distract Valek with team film study, which is a plausible activity for a captain and new player.
Meanwhile, Ivy, Whiskey, and I will escape via the fire escape at dusk, when the shadows will provide additional cover.
Wraith moves to his closet, pulling out several of his shirts and a hoodie. He returns to Ivy, offering them to her. He doesn't have to speak for the meaning to be clear. His clothes carry his scent, and they'll help her stay hidden.
"Thank you," she murmurs, accepting them with a sweet kiss to his masked cheek. The intimacy of the moment makes me look away, feeling like an intruder despite standing several feet away.
Whiskey clears his throat. "We should pack light. Just essentials."
For once, he's made a sensible suggestion. I nod in agreement. "We'll need to move quickly and quietly."
As Ivy gathers her meager belongings, I start overthinking as usual, working out the variables, the contingencies, the potential failure points in our plan. It's what I do. I analyze, I strategize, I maintain control.
But the complications are… significant. I will be in close quarters with both Whiskey and Ivy, our pack's scent match, who will be entering the next wave of heat. Nothing about this is predictable at all.
"Ready whenever you are," Ivy says, interrupting my thoughts. She's holding a small backpack that contains everything she owns in the world. The reality of her situation—that this woman has been reduced to living with only what she can carry—sends a wave of cold anger through me.
Wade Kelly will pay for this. Not now, not yet. But someday.
"We should go while the light is fading," I say, checking my watch. "Twilight provides optimal cover."
Wraith's hands move, signing something to Ivy that I can't catch. Whatever he says makes her eyes soften.
"I will," she promises him. "And I'll stay in constant contact through the group chat. You'll know where I am every minute."
He nods, the tension in his massive shoulders easing slightly. Then he turns to me, blue eyes burning with intensity. He doesn't need to sign for me to understand the message.
Keep her safe or don't come back.
"You have my word," I tell him, maintaining eye contact as my phone vibrates in my hand again.
THANE
Valek has agreed to film study. You have approximately 90 minutes before he might notice I’m stalling. Good luck.
"Time to move," I say, tucking my phone away.
Wraith goes to the window first, opening it silently. The fading light of dusk paints the world in shades of blue and purple, providing the shadow cover we need. Below the ledge, the fire escape descends in a zigzag pattern to the ground.
Ivy approaches Wraith one last time, reaching up to caress his masked face. His normally frigid eyes warm to a gentler blue as he visibly melts at her touch.
"I'll see you soon," she whispers. "As soon as it's safe."
He nods, covering her hand with his own massive one for a brief moment. Then he steps back, allowing her to move toward the window.
I go first, slipping through the opening with practiced ease. The metal grating is cool beneath my hands as I help Ivy through, steadying her as she finds her footing on the narrow platform. Whiskey follows, his bulky frame nearly tearing the window off the damn frame.
"Watch your shoulders," I mutter under my breath.
"Easy does it," he says, joining us on the landing. "No sudden moves, no noise."
Like we're the ones who need to be careful.
We descend the fire escape in silence, each step carefully placed to minimize sound.
Ivy moves between us, with me leading and Whiskey bringing up the rear.
Passing the windows makes my heart stutter in my chest, but I can't see the TV from this angle, and I don't see Valek.
I'm certain Thane would let us know if we were being too obvious.
At the bottom, I pause, scanning the surroundings before dropping to the ground.
I reach up to help Ivy, my hands encircling her waist as I lift her down the final few feet.
Her honeysuckle scent washes over me, stronger than before despite the open air, a clear sign her heat is progressing.
I set her down quickly, stepping back to create distance.
Whiskey lands beside us with a whomp as his boots hit the ground. "Clear?" he whispers.
I nod, gesturing toward the parking garage. "This way. Stay in the shadows."
We move across the grounds in silence, sticking to the tree line whenever possible. Ivy keeps pace admirably, her steps light and sure. Years of hiding have clearly taught her how to move undetected.
When we reach the parking garage, I lead them to the far corner where my black vehicle sits. The remote unlocks it with a soft chirp that sounds too loud in the stillness.
"Backseat," I tell Ivy, opening the door for her. "Lie down if we pass any security cameras."
She nods, slipping into the car without argument.
Whiskey takes the passenger seat, flashing me a grin. Guess the gravity of our mission hasn't completely penetrated his thick skull.
"Ready to hit the love nest?"
"Shut the fuck up," I say through my teeth, white-knuckling the steering wheel as we pull out of the parking garage. But there's a surprising little laugh from Ivy in the back seat that makes my spine tingle despite the rage that's already building in my chest.
Gods grant me the strength not to murder Whiskey before this is over.