Chapter 14 #2
“Two weeks,” I say. I caught myself before I fell, but I’m still steadily walking backward. “I’m wearing a heavier set of panties just in case.”
“You….Isolde!” Oliver complains.
“Hypothetically,” I remind him. “And if I take extra suppressants, would that be bad, Lucas?”
“I don’t know what you’re taking,” Lucas groans. “Don’t double up. Fuck.”
“I’ll be fine. Could it be breakthrough heat flashes? Is that a thing?” I ask.
“It is,” Lucas grunts. “Please don’t be long, and be careful. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere in Illinois,” I say vaguely, my ass hitting the side of the car. Sliding into my seat through the still open door, I wave.
I can still smell their scents even as I shut the door behind me and pull on my seat belt. My alphas take a collective step toward my car as if to chase me, and I gasp as I put the gear shift into drive and pull away.
I’ll be fine. Breakthrough spikes can happen Lucas said. It doesn’t mean I’m going into heat. It’s been so long since I’ve had a regular heat, I don’t remember what that’s like.
I only had a couple irregular ones before I was taken, which I always thought was kind of odd. It wasn’t something serious enough to head to the doctor for, so I never did. Now, I have no idea what the fuck is happening to my body.
“Lovely,” I growl under my breath. Shifting in my seat, I get comfortable for the three hour drive as I leave my alphas behind. My fingers flick on the radio only to find Black Sabbath’s “Changes” currently on. My lips mouth the words as I think about how incredibly accurate that truly is.
Yet, there’s a warmth inside of me that has nothing to do with my heat because Oliver said he loved me.
My SUV is pulled off the road in a ditch where no one can see me, and I jumped the fence of the Reaping Marauders’ property. The world is still asleep at barely six in the morning, and the sun is sputtering its way over the horizon.
Walking through the property, I see guards who are asleep at their posts, clearly hung over.
When you think you’re invincible, you fuck up.
These are clearly lower level members or prospects.
Either way, they’re going to be one of the reasons that I’m able to waltz into the club house without any issues.
I have a black bag of supplies in my left hand while my gun is in my right as I walk through the front door of the clubhouse. There are men asleep on the floor and couches snoring, and I roll my eyes as I reach into my bag and pull out a wall plug in that pushes a sedative into the air.
It’s something I picked up from the dark web and kept for a rainy day. Today, it’s pouring. Silently plugging it in, I smirk through my skull mask over my face. It completely covers every inch of my skin with space for me to breathe without accidentally inhaling the chemicals in the air.
I appear like the little nightmare that Grant is fond of calling me. No one will be able to recognize me as I leave the sleeping men to fall into an unnatural sleep. I’ll come back to slit throats once I’ve dealt with whoever is in the upper rooms.
My boots don’t make a sound as I walk up the stairs, my feet testing the wood for weak spots that may squeak or groan.
This clubhouse is in a gross state of disrepair, and I really hope there aren’t any children who come here with any frequency.
The floors are sticky, there’s a hole in the wall next to my head as I walk up from where someone lost their temper, and a sweet butt is passed out naked on the landing.
Lips pursed, I pull out a syringe from my pocket to ensure she stays asleep for as long as I need. I’ll dump her ass in the yard once I set this shithole on fire. She’s scrawny and has big tits, which means that since this sedative is meant for larger people that she’ll remain asleep.
Shoving the needle into her neck and pushing the plunger down as I watch it enter her body takes seconds and then I put the used needle into a pouch on the side of my utility bag that ensures I won’t accidentally stick myself with it.
Despite my leather gloves, I know I need to be careful. She’s a beta and doesn’t have an omega’s penchant for increased healing. She could easily have some kind of bloodborne disease. No thank you.
Continuing on, I begin to clear the bedrooms one by one. I need to move quickly and efficiently to be done before anyone wakes up, which is something I excel at. This is why I wanted to do this my way.
My footsteps take me to the messy bedroom of a man with two naked women on top of him. That’s cute. They’re all passed out, allowing me to pull out the zip ties and duct tape. Once the women are handled, I pull out my knife to dispose of the man.
This is about doing the maximum amount of damage while killing him without a sound uttered.
The women are still completely passed out, and I expect they may still be drunk to be able to sleep through my restraining them.
Picking up both women, I shift them away from the club member so his blood doesn’t get on them.
This is more for my comfort so I don’t get blood on my clothes. Grabbing his greasy hair, I glance at the leather cut hung up before I shove the knife under his chin and toward his brain. It’s a wicked weapon, perfect for this type of work.
His eyes open in panic, but it’s too late.
“Nighty-night,” I whisper, my voice the stuff of blood soaked night terrors. Twisting the knife, I wait for the light to leave his gaze.
Glancing at the girls, I smirk as I see that they’re huddled against each other in their sleep. Moving on, I head to the next room. Devon sent me photos of the key players in the MC early on after our first conversation about scrubbing them off the map.
This means that I know that I’m in a room the President passed out in. I don’t know if it’s his huge room, but I recognize the cruel, thin lips and tattoo of the MC on his naked chest. His flaccid cock is more than I need to see, and I force back a gag.
The tattoo is in Latin and reads: moras vincit omnia, which means ‘death conquers all’.
Not today diddleweed. His body is in the middle of the bed, and I frown as I place my bag on the ground and push my hand carefully under the pillow nearest to me.
Finding his gun, I pull it out of reach before climbing onto the mattress.
I have to do it in a way that keeps the shitty bed from shifting with my weight.
If you’re careful, it is possible. Macon is this alpha’s name, and from the research I’ve done, I know that he’s ruthless.
Surprise is my best option. Easing my leg over his massive body, I raise the knife with both hands and slam it into his throat.
His entire body convulses, but when he opens his mouth, I shove a pair of dirty boxers into it.
I push it so far down, he ironically gags on them, and when he reaches for me as his eyes explode open, I pull another knife from the holster around my waist, slicing his bicep tendon with two easy swipes. Smiling broadly, though he can’t see it, I pull out an ice pick from between my tits.
They may be modest, but my cleavage makes a pretty sweet pouch when necessary. Concentrating, I carve out The King Is Dead for a little flair as he chokes on his own blood and the taste of his dirty, unwashed knot.
Fucking gross.
“Reaching for more power than you have is a bad idea,” I say softly, pulling out the knife to shove it into the side of his throat. “Betrayal tastes bitter, but failure is worse. Enjoy burning up in your own clubhouse. The captain should go down with his ship after all.”
Getting up, I slice up the tendons in his legs so he’ll be unable to walk and ensure that all the windows are locked. Picking up my bag, I put away my toys and pull my gun again as I leave him. Locking his door, I pull out the silencer and slowly twist it until it’s on.
Now it’s time to stop playing with my food. The next bikers receive bullets to the brain as I move through the rooms, looking for Toad. There’s no fanfare, and the sweet butts with them don’t even twitch.
I swear, some people are too stupid to live. I’ll remove the woman that I drugged at the top of the stairs, but the rest can save themselves.
Once I get through the second floor, I reload my clip and silently climb the stairs to the third floor. There are six rooms up here, and I make quick work of killing those who are sleeping off their hangover. The last room holds Toad and Brea, who are cuddled on the mattress.
Toad is a beta, thankfully, relieving any discomfort I may have about killing him. Mate bonds are till death do you part, and sometimes can drag the omega with the alpha. Since that’s not possible, I deal first with Brea.
She only begins struggling once I roll her trussed up body to the floor, bracing so she won’t make a sound.
Man, do I love zip ties and duct tape. I could say that I was woefully under prepared when I took Lucas from the alley behind the sub shop, but I think he could have easily broken free of the ties.
Duct tape is a kidnapper’s best friend.
Following her down to the ground, I growl, “I’m doing you a favor, spoiled brat. You’re in the middle of a war and on the wrong side of it. Now hush and go to sleep.”
My thumb presses against her throat, and I sit on her stubborn body as I wait for her to pass the fuck out for me.
You try to save someone, and this is the thanks you get. For fuck’s sake.
Once her body relaxes and her eyes flutter closed, I press my fingers against her pulse point. I’m not an idiot. If she doesn’t want to live, I’ll snap her fucking neck and move on. Brea is an omega who fell for pretty words and a power hungry beta male who is much older than her.
Clearly she misread the red flags and thought they were green. Glancing at the beta in question quickly, I watch as he snores loudly and shifts in his sleep. Something tells me that he may wake up if he doesn’t feel Brea next to him. Call it instinct.