Chapter 30 – COSIMA
COSIMA
"I believe we just found the new Ghost Alpha Unit."
My brain feels like it's swimming through molasses, still clawing its way back from whatever dark place it retreated to on that train. But even through the haze, those words slice through with crystal clarity.
What the actual fuck?
Whiskey's jaw drops so far I'm surprised it doesn't dislocate. "You want to hire them? The same psychos who just kidnapped you? Who poisoned you? Who—"
"Who demonstrated more tactical skill in one afternoon than any of the other candidates have shown in months," Plague cuts him off smoothly, like he's discussing the weather instead of recruiting international fugitives. "Yes."
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. Everyone stares at Plague like he's just grown a second head.
Nikolai is the first to break it, naturally. "Let me get this straight," he says, his voice dripping with that particular brand of sarcasm that could strip paint. "You want us to work for the same government that we just committed about fifty felonies against?"
Plague's smile turns sharp as broken glass. "Having spent quite a few years of my life as a Ghost, I can think of no greater justice that Surhiira could impose."
"Justice?" Geo scoffs. "What makes you think—"
A roar cuts through his words like a chainsaw. Closer this time. Much closer.
Knight.
The sound tears through me, bypassing my rational mind and going straight to some primal place that recognizes the anguish in that inhuman cry. He's hurt. He's alone. And if the raw, feral edge to that roar is any indication, he's losing whatever tenuous grip he has on sanity.
"Shit," Thane mutters, his face going pale beneath the blood from his head wound. "That doesn't sound good."
"Wraith," Valek says, and for the first time since this whole clusterfuck started, there's genuine worry in his voice. "If that monster has gone feral and Wraith—"
"Knight isn't a monster," I snap. Okay, so he is. But he's my monster. "And he's not feral. He's just…"
Another roar, even closer. This one makes the ground vibrate beneath our feet.
Okay, maybe he is a little feral.
"We need to contain the situation," Plague says, all business now. "If he's gone completely berserk—"
"He hasn't," I interrupt, though I'm not entirely sure I believe it myself. "He's looking for me. That's all."
Raven moves closer to my side, his gun still trained on Valek but his attention split. "Goddess, are you sure? Because that doesn't sound like—"
The world explodes.
Knight tears out of the palm forest like a force of nature. Sand and debris spray in his wake as he crashes through the underbrush, his burning blue eyes scanning the group like he's figuring out who to tear apart first.
His gaze locks onto me, and for a heartbeat, I see recognition flicker behind the rage. Relief. Then his attention shifts to the alphas surrounding me, and that brief moment of sanity vanishes like smoke.
He doesn't hesitate. Doesn't pause to assess the situation or consider the odds. He just attacks.
Geo is the closest, and Knight's clawed hand swipes at him with enough force to take his head clean off if there's contact. Geo throws himself backward just in time, the metal claws whistling past his face by inches.
"Fuck!" Geo rolls, coming up with his knife in hand. "He's lost it!"
Knight spins toward Nikolai next, metal arm whirring as he swings at him. Nikolai dodges with violent grace, and I can see the complete lack of surprise on his face as Knight's claws slam into the ground with the force of a bomb.
"Knight, stop!" I scream, but he doesn't even glance in my direction. His focus is laser-sharp on the perceived threats between him and me. Including the rest of our pack. A record screeches somewhere in the back of my mind.
Pack?
Yeah, right. That's a joke.
We're not a pack. Just a loosely collected band of misfits, half of whom despise each other.
And yet…
Raven tries to circle around, probably planning to get behind Knight and restrain him somehow. It's not a great plan. Knight's enhanced hearing picks up the movement, and he whirls with inhuman speed, claws extended.
"No!" I scream, about to throw myself between them when Wraith appears out of nowhere.
He crashes into Knight from the side like a freight train, sending them both tumbling across the sand in a tangle of limbs and fury. The impact shakes the ground with the sickening crunch of metal against bone.
"Oh, fan-fucking-tastic," Whiskey mutters. "The unstoppable force just met the immovable one."
Wraith and Knight roll across the sand, each trying to gain the upper hand.
They're almost evenly matched in size and strength, but Knight's augmentations give him an edge that even Wraith's natural resilience barely compensates for.
Blood spatters the sand as claws find flesh and fists connect with devastating force.
"Yeah, great idea, Plague," Thane says dryly, not taking his eyes off the battle. "Hire a bunch of psychotic outlaws with an out-of-control rage machine that has no off switch to replace us. What could possibly go wrong?"
I've heard enough.
"KNIGHT!"
My voice cuts through the chaos, sharp with authority I don't feel and desperation in equal measure. Both monstrous alphas freeze mid-strike, Wraith's fist inches from Knight's mask, Knight's claws poised to tear Wraith's throat out.
Knight's head snaps toward me, his eyes widening slightly behind his mask. He's still in there, no matter what the rest of them think.
I don't give him time to do anything else, though. I stride forward, ignoring the collective intake of breath and shouts from every alpha present. Ignoring the way Geo tries to grab me. Ignoring the fact that I'm walking toward eight feet of muscle and violence that just tried to kill everyone.
"It's okay," I say to Knight, my voice steady despite the way my hands are shaking. "I'm here. I'm safe."
Knight releases Wraith and staggers to his feet, swaying slightly. There's blood seeping through gaps in his armor, and his metal arm sparks intermittently. He's hurt.
But he doesn't attack. Doesn't move toward me. Just stands there, trembling with the effort of holding himself back.
"Come here," I whisper, extending my hand.
He takes a halting step forward, then another. When he's close enough, I reach up and rest my palm against his mask, right where his cheek would be. He goes completely still, like he's afraid to breathe.
"There," I murmur, stroking the silver metal with my thumb. "That's better."
The transformation is immediate. The rigid tension bleeds out of his massive frame, his shoulders sagging as the berserker rage finally releases its hold.
He leans into my touch like a giant cat seeking comfort, a soft rumble building in his chest that's nothing like the feral roars from moments before.
I slide my fingers up to thread through his white hair, and he practically melts under the contact. Whatever programming or conditioning turned him into a weapon, whatever trauma fractured his mind, it all seems to quiet when I touch him like this.
Strange that the lingering haze around the edges of my mind fades, too.
"There's the off switch," Plague says dryly, looking over at Thane.
Thane grunts, shooting his packmate a look that could melt steel. "Let's just get back to the palace. Ivy's waiting."
The mention of their omega seems to galvanize the Ghosts.
Valek lowers his rifle, though he keeps it ready.
Whiskey hauls Wraith to his feet, the scarred alpha swaying but mobile.
Plague just watches me and Knight with those calculating pale blue eyes, like he's trying to solve a particularly complex equation.
"So," Plague says finally. "Are we doing this?"
I look around at the alphas that have moved to surround me, even if it means being in closer proximity to the mutated alpha who was just trying to kill them moments ago.
We're criminals. Fugitives. We just kidnapped a fucking prince and somehow managed to turn it into a job interview.
It's the most ridiculous thing that's ever happened.
"Do we have a choice?" I ask dryly.
Plague's bloodied lips curve into a smirk. "There's always a choice. But some choices lead to prison. Others lead to a very comfortable life serving Surhiira's interests."
"And if we refuse?" Nikolai asks gruffly.
"Then you'll be hunted to the ends of the earth by every law enforcement agency on the continent," Plague says matter-of-factly. "Your faces will be on wanted posters from here to Columbia. You'll never know a moment's peace."
Geo spits into the sand. "Sounds like another Tuesday in paradise."
"Perhaps," Plague concedes. "But consider this. As Ghosts, you'd have resources. Protection. Purpose. And your omega would be safe. Considering it's only a matter of time before Arthur Maybrecht comes calling for his daughter, that's something you should think about very carefully."
Your omega.
I bristle at the term coming from him. But I can't quite bring myself to argue it. Not when I'm starting to think of these four as my alphas.
I can see it in their faces. Geo's grudging consideration. Nikolai's almost bored assessment of the odds. Raven's thoughtful expression as he weighs the pros and cons with a finger to his lips.
Even Knight seems to understand that this might be our best option. His grip on my hand tightens slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to let me know he's listening even though his mind still seems slightly hazy.
"What would we be doing?" Geo asks. "Exactly?"
"What we've always done," Thane answers. "The jobs no one else can handle. The missions that require... unconventional methods."
"Black ops," Nikolai translates. And I guess he and Geo know these bastards better than any of us. "Assassination. Sabotage. The kind of shit that never makes it into the official reports."
"And in exchange?" Raven asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Immunity," Plague says. "Full pardons for your past crimes. New identities if you want them. Housing, medical care, equipment. Everything you need to disappear into new lives once you've served your time."
"And how long would that be?" Geo demands.
Plague considers it, glancing at the watch hidden beneath his sleeve. "Let's call it five years. One for every hour I've been away from our mate."
"You've got to be kidding," Raven mutters. "That's half a decade."
"And hanging is forever," Plague says in an unnervingly pleasant tone. "Take it or leave it."
The alphas look at each other. Then at me.
It's tempting. Gods help me, it's actually tempting.
But in addition to whatever clusterfuck being the new Ghosts involves, that means this tentative arrangement between us becomes permanent. Or at least as permanent as anything ever gets out here.
It means we'd be a team. A pack.
And by the goddess, I hate myself for the tiny part of me that likes the sound of that. But that doesn't mean the men around me will agree. I mean, I'm pretty sure I know where Knight stands. Very sure. But the others…
Is this where they draw the line? Decide they've had enough of the troublesome little omega who might not be worth all the trouble after all?
As the four of them exchange another glance, I brace myself for the answer. Scent match or no, this is where most alphas would check out.
"Do we get masks?" Raven asks.
Plague gives a sharp laugh that echoes in the winds. "Consider it a job requirement."
"I'm not wearing the bird mask," Geo grumbles.
Plague arches an eyebrow. "That wasn't an option."
"Beats hanging, I guess," Nikolai mutters with a dismissive wave that suggests he's got better things to do.
Knight growls softly in assent, even though he keeps glancing warily at Wraith, who looks oddly… hopeful and bright-eyed above the scarf he's adjusting over his scarred lower face and exposed sharp teeth.
These alphas are fucking weird. Even for alphas.
And apparently, my alphas have a death wish.
"Time out," I call, waving the four of them around me.
Whiskey hesitates, looking between me and Plague. "Can she… do that?"
I ignore them, turning to the men surrounding me as I lower my voice. "You guys realize what you're signing up for, right? You think this was a suicide mission? Do you have any idea the shit my father made the Ghosts do?"
"Then I guess it's a good idea your old man's not calling the shots anymore," Geo quips.
I scowl at him. "I'm serious. This was my call.
My idea. It's not too late for you to back out.
" I can't believe I'm about to say this, but apparently, I'm not the only one who's lost my fucking mind.
"They can use me to get to my father. Or at least, they'll think they can.
That's leverage. Enough to get you out of here. "
Knight's growl makes it clear exactly what he thinks of that idea.
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Nikolai says in a wry tone, staring me down. "We're not going anywhere. And no one's using you as fucking leverage. Not the Ghosts, not your father, sure as fuck not any of us."
"Look at that. We agree on something," Geo sneers.
Raven reaches out, tucking a strand of dusty hair behind my ear. "They're right, goddess. None of us is going anywhere without you. The question is… are you willing to be stuck with us?"
I stare at him, biting back the sarcastic response that rises in my throat like bile.
Part of the defensive armor I've always worn alongside the diamonds and lace that felt like shackles.
And yet, here I am, covered in blood and dirt in the middle of the fucking desert, surrounded by four alphas when I never even wanted one, and I've never felt more alive.
Or free.
"I…" I trail off, realizing they're all watching me, hanging on my answer. Even Geo looks uncharacteristically nervous. It would be hilarious, if it wasn't so fucking endearing.
This is one of those things I've never been good at. Vulnerability. Truth that isn't laced with venom.
But what the hell do I have left to lose?
"Like Nikolai said, beats hanging," I mumble, looking away.
Not exactly a declaration of love, but you'd think I had just recited the poets from the looks in their eyes.
Close enough, I guess.