Chapter 20 Cooper
Cooper
The familiar colonial brick of the Wolfston mansion rises before us, but any sense of homecoming is a lie. A cold shiver, sharper than the autumn wind, traces a path down my spine. The very air has turned foul, thick with the scent of cigarettes, and something feral and unwashed.
Reed goes rigid beside me, his nostrils flare. “They are getting close.”
I don’t need to ask who. My stomach churns with the visceral memory—the hobbit’s rotten breath hot on my neck, the reek of his filth clinging to my skin.
We are almost to the imposing front door when a figure detaches itself from the deep shadows of the porch, moving with a languid, predatory grace that makes my jaw clamp.
Zacariah.
He leans against a column, a smirk carved onto a face so punchable it feels like a crime not to partake. His eyes share the same dark poison as Reed’s but lack any of the warmth. Zac’s gaze slides over me with dismissive amusement.
“Well, look who it is,” he drawls, the words dripping with mockery. “Big brother and his little sidekick. Did you have a nice playdate, or did you finally get bored of playing with your food and decide to bring home a stray?”
“Zac,” Reed seethes. “I don’t have time for your bullshit games right now. Tell me what I need to know.”
Zac’s smirk widens, a slow, ugly thing. He pushes off the column, taking a dramatic step closer, his eyes flicking to the pines in the distance. “What’s in it for me?” Zac taunts, his voice a lazy purr.
My own hands form into fists at my sides. I can feel Reed’s restraint beside me, a bowstring about to snap. Every second we stand here, the Baptistes creep closer, and this bastard wants to negotiate like we are playing a game.
“How about I don’t break anymore of your bones?” Reed’s voice drops to a whisper that more skin crawling than any threat. “That seems like a fair trade for someone in a position with no leverage.”
Zacariah’s smirk remains on his annoying lips, but a flicker of cold rage ignites in his eyes. He knows Reed isn’t bluffing.
“No leverage?” Zac huffs, his gaze cutting toward me. “I’d say the blonde liability you’ve tied to your wrist is whole bundle of it, big brother. The Baptistes are hungry, Reed. They want a feast and a spectacle. And he’ll scream so prettily for them.”
The words make my stomach churn and my fists shake with rage, but before I can move, Reed snaps.
In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned Zac against the brick wall, a forearm pressed against his throat.
“Say another word about him,” Reed whispers, his tongue hissing.
“Just one more. And I will personally demonstrate to the rest of the siblings how to snip off a tongue of an insufferable prick. Now. The intel.”
Zac’s eyes bulge, the pressure straining on his windpipe. I watch the sheer, savage hatred in Reed’s gaze as Zac gurgles a strangled sound of fury and fear.
Reed leans in closer to his ear, his voice a venomous secret for his brother. “You think you understand pain, Zac? You don’t. Not until I’ve dealt it and your muscle is detached from your filthy mouth. Now, for the last time. The. Intel.”
He releases enough pressure for Zac to croak out a single, ragged word. “Fine.”
A feral satisfaction burns deep in my chest.
Reed would kill for me. He would choke out his own brother. He’s a man of my darkest dreams.
The thought should rattle me, but it settles in the far reaches of my soul, like a missing piece clicking into place. The last piece of my sick puzzle. This is the reality I chose, the monster I begged for. And he is magnificent.
Reed still has him by the forearm, breaths wheezing out his pathetic mouth. “Start talking. How many are out there, and where are they staging?”
Zac’s lip peel back from his teeth in a bloody snarl. “Twenty. Maybe more. In the north woods.” His eyes, burning with venom, dart past Reed’s shoulder to the tree line. “They’ve been in the estate since last night. Waiting for the heir to return.”
Reed's eyes narrow. “Tell me, little brother, how would you know this information.”
Zac hesitates for a long moment. “I may have an inside source.”
Reed huffs, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Elaborate… before I snap your neck. Right here. Right now.”
The threat hangs in the air, Zac’s eyes blowing wide, as he realizes his brother might be more ruthless than him.
Zac’s voice cracks. “I promise you—I’m loyal to our family. Their mission is to take all five of us out and father. They want to reclaim these woods. Claim that it’s their ancestral seat of power. I was warned, because not every Baptiste agrees with their leader’s plan.”
Reed snorts. “A warning? From the enemy? And you, the family’s most loyal attack dog, just decided to keep it to yourself?” His forearm resumes its lethal choke. “Try again. Who contacted you?”
“One of the younger brothers,” Zac gaps, his face turning purple. “Elias. He said, their mother, Jean-Pierre… has gone mad. The assault is a suicide mission meant for revenge for killing her favorite son.”
Reed maintains the pressure. “Jean-Pierre’s favorite son?” he repeats, a dark understanding dawning in his eyes. He glances at me, and the unspoken truth passes between us. Jacque. The hobbit he snapped in the woods.
“Aww a mother’s grief,” Reed murmurs. “The most dangerous kind of enemy.” He finally releases Zac, who collapses to his knees, gasping for air. “How long do we have?”
“Hours, maybe until sunset,” Zac wheezes, rubbing his throat. “Elias said she’s been unhinged. Using opium, alcohol. She doesn’t care about the cost. Even if it costs her five of her other kids. She wants to burn this place down with us inside.”
Reed’s gaze sweeps the ominous tree line, preparing for the impending storm of vengeance. He looks at me, and in his eyes, I see a startling shift in strategy.
“Where is the council? The rest of the family?”
Zac takes a deep breath. “They are on the way. I don’t know if they’ll make it by tonight or tomorrow though.”
“Then we won’t fight from the house,” he says, a feral smirk forming on his lips. “We take down this psycho mother, alleviating her of the ache.”
“Alleviate her ache?” I chirp, unable to help myself. “Is that the medical term to decapitate a grieving, opium-addled matriarch? Because my flashcards definitely skipped that diagnosis”
Reed’s smirk widens, a flash of pride in his eyes. “See, Zac? He’s a quick study.” He turns back to face me. “Think of it as a very aggressive, very final form of grief counseling.”
Candace opens the door, with a knife in her hand. “I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. So we’re not going to fortify the world’s most murderous mansion? We’re going to meet them in the woods?”
“Precisely,” Reed says. “They’ll expect us to hide behind these walls like frightened aristocrats. They won’t expect us to be stalking them from behind their own line.” He claps his hands together. “Alright, where are the twins? This is going to be a whole family activity.”
Candace twirls her knife, flashing the silver in the afternoon sunlight. “They’re in the armory. They felt the shift in the woods. They helped father to the safe room.” She shoots a meaningful glance toward the tree line. “They’re prepping the fun toys.”
“Good,” Reed says, his eyes intensifying. “Zac, you’re with Candace. Your skill with a crossbow is the only reason why your windpipe is still intact.”
Zac chuckles. “I do love me some good ole fashioned target practice.”
“Try not to shoot any of us this time,” Candace deadpans, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I just had these boots resoled.”
“That was one time, Candy. And the bolt ricocheted. That was an equipment malfunction, not a marksmanship issue.”
“Call me Candy again and the next malfunction you have to worry about will be your femur exiting body at a forty-five-degree angle.”
Reed ignores them, his focus shifting to me. “Cooper. You’re with me. Your job will be to distract them, outrun them, while I pick them off.”
“So I’m your tactical diversion?” I say, the pieces clinking into place with a thrilling, reckless clarity. “The raw meat that you are going to dangle in front of some hungry beasts?”
A slow, feral grin spreads across his face.
The same one from the night he decapitated Jacque.
“You’re the perfect lure. Fast, frustrating, and they’ll think you’re an easy, panicked victim.
A boy lost in these woods. They’ll break their strategy to give you a little chase.
And the moment they start chasing you, I’ll pick them off. One by one.”
“You want me to be the rabbit?”
“I want you to be the fox, pretending to be a rabbit.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a growl.
“You know the mentality of a predator. And of prey. You know the game. You led me on a chase. Now we need to lead them to their next life as fertilizer for the forest. This forest isn’t magically lush for no reason. ”
The plan is insane. It’s reckless. It’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever proposed to me.
“Just like old times,” I say, my voice slightly giddy. “But with a guaranteed happy ending. However; things go.”
“Armory. Now. We don’t have long.”
We meander the halls, heading to the dark basement. The twins are unleashing chaos, prepping the weapons, maniacal laughter echoing from the walls. Alice is loading a dart gun filled with murky, brown liquid, while Mary is calmy arranging blocks of C4 like she’s playing Jenga.
“What’s that liquid?” I ask, as it froths in the vial.
Alice pauses, her deranged smile sending shivers down my spine. “A little neurotoxin I’ve been perfecting. It induces full-body paralysis while keeping the victim completely conscious and aware of their impending fate.” She gives the vial a shake. “The frothing means it’s excited to meet someone.”