Page 138 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"In the middle of the night."

"I prefer it."

"To what? Daylight? You a fuckin' vampire bro?"

"To being seen. To leaving evidence." I stop walking and turn to face him. "Did you drive? They'll have your license plate on the security cameras."

Whiskey waves a dismissive hand. "Nah, man. I took a taxi. I'm not stupid."

"You took a taxi," I repeat slowly, "to a hospital where you planned to threaten a patient, and then you climbed in through a second-story window."

"Yeah. I paid cash though, and the taxi dropped me off at the gas station across the street. And to be fair, I had the help of a maintenance ladder. Which, by the way, was way easier than the window. They really gotta make those windows bigger. Those are omega-sized windows, betas at best. I feel discriminated against. I'm gonna file a complaint."

I close my eyes, squeezing the bridge of my nose.

The headache that's been building since this alpha first opened his mouth in my general vicinity on the first day we met pulses behind my left eye.

It's no wonder Thane suffers from migraines.

The truly horrifying thing is that it's not the worst plan I've ever heard.

Whiskey is, unfortunately, not stupid.

He's just Whiskey.

And somewhere in the past five minutes, something changed. A hairline fracture in the wall I keep between myself and everyone else.

There's a strange tugging feeling at the base of my sternum. It's warm and foreign and deeply fucking unwelcome, like a fishhook sinking into muscle I didn't know I had.

The beginning of a pack bond.

Wonderful.

I open my eyes.

Whiskey's still grinning at me, leaves stuck in his collar, his coat flapping open to reveal red plaid flannel that matches the stupid pants he wore to the fucking PR meeting.

"So," he says. "We walkin' back together, or what?"

I turn and start walking.

He bounds after me.

Chapter 28

Ivy

Something wakes me up.

My eyes crack open. The living room is dark, lit only by the pale wash of moonlight bleeding through the curtains.

Wraith is wrapped around me, his bandaged face buried in my hair, heavy arm draped over my waist. Thane's breathing is slow and deep somewhere to my left. Plague is wrapped around one of Whiskey's stupid IKEA sharks, foot over mine.

He'd kill me if he knew I noticed the shark.

Where is Whiskey?

I hold my breath, listening.