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Stuff it. I can't think of an easy way... so instead, I'm gonna be annoying and just post everything i've got so far here! you ready?
247 Mistakes
INTRODUCTION:
They weren’t created. They weren’t made. They were born.
They weren’t science experiments. They weren’t like you and me. They were different.
They were SkinJumpers - beings with both human and animal make-up in their genes, creating a mix of angel and demon; beauty and beast. Different breeds sketching off into different groups of the same species, becoming Packs, Herds, Prides, etcetera. They hid at first, running silent in the trees, afraid to show themselves amongst ‘true’ human kind. Afraid of being something from a nightmare.
But in 2048, a programme named Hound was brought to the attention of the world. Ice, Fire, Air and Water were becoming living things inside the minds of many a person. SkinJumpers were no longer a piece of imagination or wishful thinking, they weren’t the only difference out there, and when it became clear that they, with their animal speeds and strengths, may be the only species on the planet able to keep the Hounds in line. Dangers lurk round every corner for a human caught between this deadly war, with IceHounds without emotion, simply logic - the ultimate killing machines. AirHounds a breath of fresh air to the unsuspecting, money makers to the rich and breathing taxes to the poor. FireHounds pure emotion, a heated collision with Ice waiting to implode, for they think only with their feelings, with no caution; no sense for their own self preservation, only of their next high. And WaterHounds, slick beings, sly, masters of seduction. Refreshing with their talents, the hardest of all the Elementals to identify - they seem to consume those around them, working into the system’s of both humans and SkinJumpers alike like the Water’s they are.
These are the Elementals Hounds and the SkinJumpers.
These are the extermination, and perhaps the world’s only salvation.
PROLOGUE:
“Go on then, get out! And take your sorry ass with you.” A newly crowned eighteen year old Tamra Markosa stared into the eyes of a man who had never loved her. He had fed her, clothed her, housed her, but that was where their relationship ended. Kentaro Markosa had never looked at his daughter with love in his eyes, never hugged her when she cried or picked her up when she fell. All Tamra’s life she had tried to be a daughter to be proud of, but Kentaro wouldn’t have any of it. Turning thirteen was when things had hitched up a level. Teenage hormones had kicked in hard and a young, naïve Tamra only wanted a father that could hold her in his heart. But when the rejection had become a clawing ache in her own body, Tamra’s own realisation came with a bang. Kentaro didn’t care. Didn’t want her. Didn’t need her. Didn’t laugh when she smiled. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. So now, when the letter that could change her entire life had posted through her front door on the 1st August, Tamra’s eighteenth birthday, she had known instantly that she would accept to be a part of the Hound Programme, would choose out of the four choices to become an IceHound. Emotions had done nothing but harm her and break apart her childhood dreams. Why spend the rest of her life trying to be a person who wasn’t wanted? Why hold on tight to her wishes that one day she would be loved? Throw away those feelings and become a whole new being, a being who doesn’t scrape at their own selves to be different.
“Oh, I will - you don’t ever have to tell me twice.” Her pathetic father didn’t even flinch at the cutting words. I want to be like that, she thought. I want to be capable of not feeling anything.
“Good. Wouldn’t want to have to waste my breath on you.” ((STILL WRITING THIS PART, ONLY JUST STARTED))
CHAPTER ONE:
It was Tamra's 248th kill. Her gun was poised against her shoulder, and focused on the head of Hugh Larton - her target. His life meant nothing to her, his family unimportant, personality disregarded; to Tamra, he was just another pawn in a game where there no winners, only players who paid with very generous prices. Tamra's hand itched against the trigger, eager to slay, to end the life of the man serenading his crowd of followers inside New York's family park. Children wailed amongst the swings, and parents stood with their backs ramrod straight, staring at their leader. Sixty seconds before Hugh was to face the east wall of the park, and become a clear shot for Tamra. The countdown had devastating consequences.
Sweat tickled down Tamra’s spine before she could control the pathetic human reaction. They take too long to fade, she thought, to feel so nervous was not in her nature, not any more. She had spent too long training her mind and body to not feel such things, but starting her life as she had had come with problems after she changed. Automatic responses to sounds in the night, crying when emotion took hold, and the feeling of love weighing down their hearts - how she was glad to be rid of such impudent parts of life. Tamra was an IceHound, a being no longer with emotions to cloud the mind. She had earned her place amongst her people, earned the right to be called a JaguarShot. Tamra was a part of something bigger than she could imagine, and the key to destruction was at the opposite end of her gun.
***
The Hound was sitting on the edge of the building, her killing machine atop her shoulder, aiming at the head of the most important person in Haden's programme; Hugh Larton not allowed to assassinate him, Haden Reece, Alpha of the MidnightWalker Pack, wouldn't allow it.
The wind brushed against his cheek, and lifted the crisp white shirt of the Hound before him. Revealed to Haden's sharp gaze was creamy, golden skin that shined against the sun's light. Her hair was pulled into a slick braid, falling to the curve of her hip - it's rich black texture running over her exposed skin. Haden had the disorientating urge to take the Hound into his arms and never let go, not for anything in the world. But no, he shook his head from side to side, forcing himself back into the correct frame of mind. He was here for one thing, and one thing only; get the Hound, and bring her in.
***
Tamra pulled the trigger at the precise moment a hand grasped her wrist, causing the gun to shoot out into the sky, missing it’s target. Turning, she looked calmly into the eyes of an animal before a heavy hood was pulled over her face. She grappled blindly with her opponent, but to no avail. The foul thing had her in a vice hold, there was no way out. And here came the reactions, claustrophobia kicked in hard, and Tamra felt as though she had been swallowed into a black hole. She fought the restraints of her captor once again, desperately searching for a way out, a connection to her IceHound, but she had been sucked in too deep. Tamra was being pulled along the roof top, but she wasn't in her right mind at the time. She didn't feel rough hands holding fiercely at the back of her neck, or the press of her own gun against her side, but instead the cold howls of darkness, of being trapped inside the hood. Her breathing was ragged, her mind feeling as though it was collapsing in upon itself and her hair was sticking to the crevices of her mouth. She was going blank, unconsciousness setting in. No sensation of steps beneath her feet as Tamra was pulled down the stairs, or the harsh brush of glass against her bare toes, only the silence. Her hands flailed around the stairwell, reaching out without her control for a hold on reality, on something she could feel. Tamra couldn't feel a thing, only scared and humiliated emotions. IceHound was failing her - Tamra Markosa was failing IceHound.
***
Haden felt the woman in his arms go limp just before he reached the door to the busy life outside. Her hand was already cold in his grasp, and he hurried towards the waiting car on the side walk.
Black tinted windows blocked any stray person seeing inside, and the metal was bullet proof - total safety. Haden launched for the back seat before he was seen, and it was just in time; the Ice in his arms had begun to melt, a burning heat now searing from her skin and when Haden placed the back of his hand against her forehead, the temperature was scolding. Though her hands were still cold… Ice cold.
CHAPTER TWO:
Haden stood outside the cell door, staring at the Hound who lay so still with her back against the cool marble floor. Her face had drained of colour, turning a ghostly white so different to the shine that he had glimpsed atop a rooftop in New York. Her hands were clawed against her sides, and her bare chest portrayed a glimpse of the IceHound mark around her torso; a large silver circle placed openly on the centre of her chest with ice droplets reaching down to her midriff. The ring was surrounded by black thorns, crisscrossing through the centre before wrapping around the edge. In the middle was a single white rose bud, it's roots cascading around her side in slithering tendrils of spikes and sharp edges, running a loop around the entirety of her torso - the marks of a killer, Haden thought, but her eyes had already destroyed such thoughts from setting into Haden's brain. He had only glimpsed them for a brief second, as she had turned around to face him before he covered her face with the hood, but they had been branded into his mind, a constant torment in amongst his dreams, leaving him to wake with heavy muscles and sweat coating his tense frame. Eyes of an angel, that had fallen into the hands of the devil.
Thinking back, he remembered each entrance into a person's soul with absolute clarity - silver iris's with a piercing blue framing the outer-edge, and dark grey teardrops swimming through the sea of silver. Those eyes would be a summer's breeze, but there was something lurking beneath their depths, something Haden couldn't place. Like nightmares that had been dreamt into reality and leaked into the dreamers eyes, so that whenever they closed, all that was seen behind the darkness of eyelids was an image longed to be forgotten. That was what kept him awake at night, that was what stole his focus - those eyes, this woman, that piece of Ice.
"Haden, anything to report?" Haden turned slightly from his stiff stance against the cell door, the memory of those cold, almost wolf-like eyes still holding him captive. "I said, anything to report? You will answer me when I speak to you." Joseph's voice was rough now, teetering on the edge of becoming a barely controlled snarl.
"Dad, please. Give me a break and don't pull that ex-Alpha crap on me. And besides, you've got to go or your gonna miss your flight." Haden's parents, Joseph and Blair, were due to fly over to England. They had recently bought a house in the outskirts of Yorkshire, the same house the two had met in when Joseph was going through his Alpha training. Haden's father had been Alpha for over thirty years before giving up the title ten years ago to watch as his eldest son stepped unwillingly into his place.
Though Joseph is now a senior member of Pack, helping the training of young Shifters and watching over the business between his family and the Hounds, he still maintains enough Alpha inside of him to take control when needed, and demands nothing less that the highest respect and loyalty from Pack mates - no matter who he may be with at any given time. Joseph Reece is one animal you would not want to stand against... Unless, of course, you felt the need to be mauled, humiliated, or flat on your back in the mud, then you would be wise to steer clear of the Beast.
Haden's mother Blair, however, is the missing chink in Joseph's armour. Complete opposites of the other, the two somehow connected like pieces of a puzzle; Joseph with his no-nonsense attitude and Blair with her care-free outlook on life. Joseph with his chestnut hair that curls in ringlets to his shoulders, flecks of grey sprinkled a few inches in from his scalp and amongst the scraggly forest of his beard. He has prominent features set into a deeply tanned face and there are laugh lines etched around the sides of his almond shaped eyes and his forever tilted mouth, as though he is constantly holding in a private secret that he wishes to tell anyone but everyone whilst being unable to do so. Whereas Blair has a golden cap of ruler-straight hair that falls elegantly to the smooth curve of her waist, no specks of grey to be seen. She has a cute, heart-shaped face with soft eyes that hold an un-limitless amount of kindness, their soulful blue colour swimming with the essence of the clear sea. Her pale complexion reminds all of crushed pearls, and Blair's skin shines against the moonlight.
Haden's mother is at one with the night, and is rarely seen out during the day. Because of this, it was a huge shock when news of Blair and Joseph's mating rippled through Pack. But now, now it is a feast whenever Blair is seen out in the daytime, always playing amongst the cubs, and throwing back her head when she laughs her soprano laugh with them. When Blair Reece enters any spotlight of sun, Pack will hold it's breath as her untainted beauty shines, her compassion and love for Joseph and her Pack mates a living, breathing. Joseph's heart has grown severely because of Blair, it now encompasses not only his Pack, but his two sons and the world around him - despite the fact that Joseph struggles to tolerate any type of Hound, he thinks with the logic of Ice, fights with the red hot passion of Fire, breathes the same breath as Air and is refreshed by the exact liquid that is Water.
"We've moved back the time. And after the way you acted earlier, all the more reason for doing so."
***
Haden sat silently in the back of the safe car, a Hound lying across his torso, her head limp against his shoulder. He turned his face discreetly so that his cheek lay balanced on her hair, the effort to keep it tense and facing the other way a personal order he could no longer wanted to keep. Haden caught the eye of Nichols in the rear view mirror before sniffing the Hound's scent.
"Nothing," he mouthed, "she smells normal - completely human." Haden saw Nichols' tight nod, and as his jaw set, turned sharply into a side road leading to Pack's Medical and Science Building. Their was a harshness to Nichols' entire posture, and Haden realised how very uncomfortable the soldier was around the Hound, so he leaned forward without jostling the Ice in his arms and placed his hands lightly on his friends shoulder. Nichols didn't flinch, but Haden watched as the storm raging in his eyes began to dim bit by bit at his Alpha's touch, and he only removed his hand once he was certain the soldier was once again in control.
"Don't worry Boss, I'm fine. She just brings back memories that I'd rather forget," Nichols' voice sounded forced - strained, so Haden replied in a tone fully Alpha.
"This Hound will cause no harm to us, not another member of my Pack will fall pray to the end of their icy guns." But as Haden remembered the lush picture of bronze skin beneath a crisp white shirt, and the penetrating force of a gaze that may have just sent him to his knees, Haden wondered if the silent promise just made to his greatest friend in Pack was a lie.. and that Haden would be the one falling prey, losing his position as predator....
CHAPTER THREE:
When the two men and Hound arrived at the Med and Science Building located in central New York, three other members of Pack were waiting for their arrival outside the front door.
"Is it safe?" Haden now spoke into his earpiece. Nichols jerked ever so slightly at the break of companionable silence, but didn't speak or turn back into an animal tensed inside human skin. His eyes flicked around the parking lot, to any sign of unusual activity behind the building windows, and when he thought it clean, nodded a signal for the others to move. Haden had done the same check, and had had the area cleared only seconds before Nichols, but needed his soldier to feel the safety of his Alpha running through his veins, otherwise disloyalty or thoughts of not being wanted as a soldier may seep it’s way into his sentinels’ minds - and that was not allowed to happen.
A rush of movement caught Haden by surprise, watching as members of his normally well organised and stationed Pack suddenly burst out from the Med and Science Building.
“Good job on the check, but I think it’s time for you to scram.”
“No kidding Boss, their worried faces scare me more than the Hounds.” Nichols waited for his Alpha to step fully out of the car, the Ice held securely in his strong arms, before putting the car in gear and speeding away.
“Show off,” muttered Haden, before snapping into his earpiece, “and don’t call me Boss.” Silence from the other end of the line, the message ‘not received’.
But as Haden glanced back to the pasty white face of a woman that should be beautiful and full of life, not hard like Ice, and not limp in his arms, all traces of humour vanished and he cautiously stepped into a mass of predators poised for attack, and nosy, but worried members of Pack that had arrived without consent to catch a glimpse of the most dangerous of IceHounds, and to be certain that their Alpha was unharmed.
There was an audible gasp as the sight of the Hound reached the peaking eyes of Pack. They stood frozen, transfixed, gawking at her deathly white face. She's still beautiful, Haden thought, as he suddenly felt a tidal wave of protectiveness for the Ice in his arms, as though he would fight against his own people to keep her safe.
"No," he ground out, teeth clenched. Heads immediately snapped up to his and a few people even took a shaky step away from him, caution and a little fear evident in their eyes. Had they thought he was talking to them? That he would use such a cold tongue, as though he himself was a piece of Ice? Did they fear the rigid emotion present on his face before he composed his features into that of an Alpha male in control, but still with a line of compassion for his Pack? For none of this did Haden care, instead, simply walked straight for the main entrance of the Medical side of the Medical and Science Building, his people rippling out of his way like reeds being pushed apart in water.
Haden turned to face his Pack when he first heard the faint scuffling sound of feet against the ground, of murmured whispers telling one another to, "Go on, follow him!"
"Do it!"
"Come on, I dare you!"
"You go - look at his face, I'm not gonna be so stupid."
Haden set his face into a hard structure of pure Alpha demand, his shoulders pushing back as he stood to his full 6 foot 4 inches of height, "No-one but my highest sentinel's and soldier's are to step foot into this building, anyone disobeying a direct order will have me to deal with... is that clear?" His voice rang loud through the hushed crowd, and Haden waited only for the first few nods of understanding and utter loyalty before signalling to the only three people that should have even been present whilst he and Nichols had brought the Hound in.
Though Haden shouldn't have to check that his Pack had heard an order, and would fulfil it, it was in the face of this IceHound that he felt every need to hold complete certainty in his mind that she going to be safe. It was irrational to feel such possessiveness over a being who should repel his animal senses on all level's, but instead, with just a glance of her eyes she now held him in her palms, and when she woke, and she will wake, Haden thought, she might be able to crush him without so much as an Icy disregard, marking him as nothing but a dirty animal who should lie beneath her notice - or lie beneath her feet.
"Sorry Reece, we told 'em all to bugger off on numerous occasions-"
"-But they didn't pay attention and-"
"-And you didn't want to pull rank on them, it's fine, you don't to explain yourselves to me, I will always trust my sentinels," his last word was a sigh, the weight of the day finally putting a tension between his shoulders.
"Exactly," Tike added at the end, eagerly putting in word of his existence in the conversation. Though his full young face was still looking as though he was about to break down under the thought of failing his Alpha by letting so many people near the Medical Building. Tike had just come out of trainee camp, a facility for young soldier’s to hone their skills and learn the hardships of what becoming a soldier protecting your Pack is all about. Haden’s father had been specifically assigned to him due to his scent. Sid Tiken had the scent of a warrior, of a SkinJumper that could become an Alpha one day, and Joseph had taken it upon himself to train and mark the boy as his own. And it was because of this, that Haden expected big things from the boy, no petty mistakes made or coddling from the women, but hard work and respect that he has earned.
Haden calls on Tike for such occasions as this, one where a delivery should have been quick and easy without mess… and Haden had certainly not expected his Pack to have come streaming, with no control, into the Medical Building. He expected them to do their jobs; look after the cubs; not stick their feline noses into things that should not concern them at this time. They need to learn to trust in their Alpha again, a slithery thought in Haden’s mind, they need to know you won’t fall under a Hound’s spell.
Haden sighed once more, disregarding the thought, “Can we hurry this up?” His voice was terse, and as he hefted the Hound a little higher in his arms, he felt his heart constrict when her head landed neatly between his shoulder and neck. Haden could feel lips against his skin, and he wanted them to kiss the pulse pounding there, he wanted to feel their softness and human heat properly against his skin. But for now, they were cold - too cold. Haden Reece picked up the lope of his long cat legs, and the group of animals moved faster.
CHAPTER FOUR:
Walking through the Medical Halls Haden’s high senses could only detect the faintest trace of painful cleaning products and the general hospital type of scent. He liked to ensure that any MidnightWalker, his Pack, was comfortable in such a foreboding building. Haden even had a tendency to let a few injured humans, and on rare or needed occasions such as this, a sparse amount of Hounds - but no Ice, not after what happened to Nichols, never Ice… never until now.
The four cats slid through a private corridor and slinked behind a large, metal door at it’s end marked DANGER: UNKOWN CONTENT, giving them free passage down to the secret medical and science facility behind it.
This is where the Hound was to stay, until Haden, Haden and his sentinel’s, or Haden and his father could decide how to continue with their own personal programme now that, for a while at least, Hugh Larton and, through Hugh, his employer, were safe and unharmed.
“Ti-…Sid, I think this is where I draw the line.” Sid's face fell so fast, his eyes crinkling so tight, that Haden felt an unexplainable urge to take back his silent order and to pull the poor kid in for a hug... and that should not be happening.
Angie slapped Tike around the back of the head, and the strange spell was broken as Haden and Sid's locked eyes were forced apart when Tike's head fell forward from the hit's impact. Haden, with the Hound now lugged over his shoulder, was holding Tike's chin in a hard grip and had him against the corridor wall barely a second later, his growl roaring from his throat and his beast prickling at the loss in it's control.
"What the hell was that?!" His voice was thick and as sharp as needles, it echoed around the cats like an attack from all sides. The soldiers' animals tensed.
"That," Angie placed a hand on her Alpha's shoulder, comforting him through touch, though he didn't acknowledge the anchoring gesture, "is our little Tike's new trick. No wonder Joseph," his father's name was an instant release on his anger at the young soldier, Joseph would be disappointed at his son's lashing out, "took such as interest in him as a cub, that man could - can - smell a Trick from a few miles off."
Tricks - the talented SkinJumpers that held more than just an animal inside, but a talent their other half possessed when they were exactly that - a complete animal.
It was a rarity amongst any Packs, but the Snakes were well known for their ability to coax their prey into a sense of false security, and their Tricks went so far as to holding a part of another's thought's when looking them directly in the eye. Pulling strings and taking away a SkinJumpers will... some Tricks aren't liked very well, SkinJumpers much prefer being in control of themselves, and hate having a Snake taking hold of the reigns... especially an Alpha.
The Snakes were a sly, slippery Pack, but they normally keep to themselves and don't interfere with the games played between rival prides.
"How?" Haden's question was blunt and unexpected, but he felt Sid stiffen in his grip, his spine straighten as he failed to lift his head. His Alpha's hold was firm.
“My mother,” he spat, trying to speak past the hand wedging his chin, “was a Snake, my father a Cat. Looks as though I inherited a little something from both sides of the table.” His churning eyes sought Haden’s.
“Now you stop that shit with me Sid Tiken, I’m no frivolous female,” a hiss from where Angie stood, he’d apologise later, “for you to play around with. You treat me with respect if you want to move up in this Pack - or even be in it. You hear me?” Tightening his grip on both Tike’s chin and his protective grasp on the Hound’s legs, Haden looked Tike directly in the eye, giving him an opening, the opportunity, to ruin his chances as a MidnightWalker and to bring his Alpha under a foolish, untrained and inexperienced control. “Do you understand?”
Tike new when not to push his Alpha, Pack members were given lenience when they prodded, challenged half-heartedly, but when the chips were down, everyone knew their place, and that no matter how hard they tried, Haden Reece would never back down.
“I understand.”
“Good, we’ll see you later.” A hint, it was definitely time for Tike to leave.
Haden’s beast pounced as he let loose Tike’s chin and turned to watch his stiff, retreating back hunch down the corridor.
“Hey Tike,” Haden called after him. He stopped dead, but the Cat inside pricked back it's ears to listen. “Keep it up and next time you’ll be flat on your ass, but you’ll become a fine soldier. Now go find Myrian and break some innocent girl’s heart.”
“You know your brother’s a prick Haden,” Tike chided over his shoulder, “and besides, I don’t need him to get a girl - I’m a heartbreaker all by myself.” His white, sharp toothed smile flashed and both Haden and Angie laughed. Even tight lipped Jamie let out a chuckle.
Walking through the Medical Halls Haden’s high senses could only detect the faintest trace of painful cleaning products and the general hospital type of scent. He liked to ensure that any MidnightWalker, his Pack, was comfortable in such a foreboding building. Haden even had a tendency to let a few injured humans, and on rare or needed occasions such as this, a sparse amount of Hounds - but no Ice, not after what happened to Nichols, never Ice… never until now.
The four cats slid through a private corridor and slinked behind a large, metal door at it’s end marked DANGER: UNKOWN CONTENT, giving them free passage down to the secret medical and science facility behind it.
This is where the Hound was to stay, until Haden, Haden and his sentinel’s, or Haden and his father could decide how to continue with their own personal programme now that, for a while at least, Hugh Larton and, through Hugh, his employer, were safe and unharmed.
“Ti-…Sid, I think this is where I draw the line.” Sid's face fell so fast, his eyes crinkling so tight, that Haden felt an unexplainable urge to take back his silent order and to pull the poor kid in for a hug... and that should not be happening.
Angie slapped Tike around the back of the head, and the strange spell was broken as Haden and Sid's locked eyes were forced apart when Tike's head fell forward from the hit's impact. Haden, with the Hound now lugged over his shoulder, was holding Tike's chin in a hard grip and had him against the corridor wall barely a second later, his growl roaring from his throat and his beast prickling at the loss in it's control.
"What the hell was that?!" His voice was thick and as sharp as needles, it echoed around the cats like an attack from all sides. The soldiers' animals tensed.
"That," Angie placed a hand on her Alpha's shoulder, comforting him through touch, though he didn't acknowledge the anchoring gesture, "is our little Tike's new trick. No wonder Joseph," his father's name was an instant release on his anger at the young soldier, Joseph would be disappointed at his son's lashing out, "took such as interest in him as a cub, that man could - can - smell a Trick from a few miles off."
Tricks - the talented SkinJumpers that held more than just an animal inside, but a talent their other half possessed when they were exactly that - a complete animal.
It was a rarity amongst any Packs, but the Snakes were well known for their ability to coax their prey into a sense of false security, and their Tricks went so far as to holding a part of another's thought's when looking them directly in the eye. Pulling strings and taking away a SkinJumpers will... some Tricks aren't liked very well, SkinJumpers much prefer being in control of themselves, and hate having a Snake taking hold of the reigns... especially an Alpha.
The Snakes were a sly, slippery Pack, but they normally keep to themselves and don't interfere with the games played between rival prides.
"How?" Haden's question was blunt and unexpected, but he felt Sid stiffen in his grip, his spine straighten as he failed to lift his head. His Alpha's hold was firm.
“My mother,” he spat, trying to speak past the hand wedging his chin, “was a Snake, my father a Cat. Looks as though I inherited a little something from both sides of the table.” His churning eyes sought Haden’s.
“Now you stop that shit with me Sid Tiken, I’m no frivolous female,” a hiss from where Angie stood, he’d apologise later, “for you to play around with. You treat me with respect if you want to move up in this Pack - or even be in it. You hear me?” Tightening his grip on both Tike’s chin and his protective grasp on the Hound’s legs, Haden looked Tike directly in the eye, giving him an opening, the opportunity, to ruin his chances as a MidnightWalker and to bring his Alpha under a foolish, untrained and inexperienced control. “Do you understand?”
Tike new when not to push his Alpha, Pack members were given lenience when they prodded, challenged half-heartedly, but when the chips were down, everyone knew their place, and that no matter how hard they tried, Haden Reece would never back down.
“I understand.”
“Good, we’ll see you later.” A hint, it was definitely time for Tike to leave.
Haden’s beast pounced as he let loose Tike’s chin and turned to watch his stiff, retreating back hunch down the corridor.
“Hey Tike,” Haden called after him. He stopped dead, but the Cat inside pricked back it's ears to listen. “Keep it up and next time you’ll be flat on your ass, but you’ll become a fine soldier. Now go find Myrian and break some innocent girl’s heart.”
“You know your brother’s a prick Haden,” Tike chided over his shoulder, “and besides, I don’t need him to get a girl - I’m a heartbreaker all by myself.” His white, sharp toothed smile flashed and both Haden and Angie laughed. Even tight lipped Jamie let out a chuckle.
“Perhaps we’re ridding you of that strange British humour of yours, ay Jamie?” Angie scoffed and punched him in the arm. Though Jamie let her, his courtesy for females preventing him from grabbing her wrist in mid-air and forcing it behind her back without wasting a breath as Haden knew he could do.
“Perhaps,” he mimicked, “I find it amusing when you two old ladies laugh at the absurd sight of a sour mouthed cub. Oh, the horror of it all!” His lips twitched.
Angie stopped twirling a strand of red curly hair around her index finger and stared, gob smacked, at Jamie as he tried to hold in a burst of laughter. And both Haden and Angie were amazed at Jamie’s attempt of a joke, if not from how bad it was, then from the fact that he’d even bothered to try. Haden, for one, had only ever heard him retaliate back at Angie when she’d seriously insulted his ego and ‘manhood’. Now that, Haden mused, had been a good laugh, especially when, as rumoured, Jamie had supposedly shown Angie just how much ego he had and how ‘manly’ he was!
“Right, let’s get to business - this is important.”
“Yes, Boss.” Angie smirked, and Haden felt a humoured growl run up his throat and escape through his smile.
"I’ll get Nichols for letting that loose. And then I’ll leave you to him... Which for once, I’m sure you won’t enjoy.” Haden’s voice was full of false accusation underlined with mischief, implying just what he intended for Rupert Nichols by letting that retched nickname slip - and with Angie, if it suited her, it was most definitely going to stick no matter how many threats her Alpha made.
“Here goes nothing,” he said under his breath, so low that the cats around couldn’t hear. His own purred it’s agreement, trying to comfort the man, and receiving a mental stroke from it’s human half in return for the soothing effort.
“Haden Joseph Anthony Reece, pleasure to finally meet my own Alpha - if only the circumstances had been slightly different,” the speaking scientist sighed.
Said Alpha didn’t bother with said pleasantries, he was here as Alpha, taking care of a business that shouldn’t be happening in the first place.
“May I dare ask why on earth you have the Hound over your shoulder?” Prissy and pompous, no wonder Haden hadn’t actually spoken to the Cat… he sniffed the air, much to the scientist’s disdain. This SkinJumper isn’t a cat, Haden realised… prey!, his first primal instincts screamed as his beast leapt at it’s frail human flesh restraints, wanting to hold the dominant stag between it’s teeth and show rank.
“Damn,” Angie was quietly chuckling behind Haden, and most likely jabbing Jamie in the stomach, too, “he’s as English as you Jamie - worse even, I’d never thought it possible!” Jamie kept silent, holding back what Haden could only imagine to be a snarl, but he could hear the rough grinding of teeth being clamped together, his jaw must be steel, Haden thought... poor guy.
“Shut it, Angie, unless you want me to throw your feline ass out of here, too?”
She placed a hand on the back of his neck, careful not to touch the Hound, and squeezed.
Haden spoke his approval out loud- “Thank you.” He turned his face slightly towards Angie, calmer through Pack touch along with her promise to keep her mouth closed, and winked at her in a purely cat way.
Haden sensed Angie’s cat practically preening at the open affection of his flirt as he, once again, turned to face the scientist.
“Perhaps,” he mimicked, “I find it amusing when you two old ladies laugh at the absurd sight of a sour mouthed cub. Oh, the horror of it all!” His lips twitched.
Angie stopped twirling a strand of red curly hair around her index finger and stared, gob smacked, at Jamie as he tried to hold in a burst of laughter. And both Haden and Angie were amazed at Jamie’s attempt of a joke, if not from how bad it was, then from the fact that he’d even bothered to try. Haden, for one, had only ever heard him retaliate back at Angie when she’d seriously insulted his ego and ‘manhood’. Now that, Haden mused, had been a good laugh, especially when, as rumoured, Jamie had supposedly shown Angie just how much ego he had and how ‘manly’ he was!
“Right, let’s get to business - this is important.”
“Yes, Boss.” Angie smirked, and Haden felt a humoured growl run up his throat and escape through his smile.
"I’ll get Nichols for letting that loose. And then I’ll leave you to him... Which for once, I’m sure you won’t enjoy.” Haden’s voice was full of false accusation underlined with mischief, implying just what he intended for Rupert Nichols by letting that retched nickname slip - and with Angie, if it suited her, it was most definitely going to stick no matter how many threats her Alpha made.
“Here goes nothing,” he said under his breath, so low that the cats around couldn’t hear. His own purred it’s agreement, trying to comfort the man, and receiving a mental stroke from it’s human half in return for the soothing effort.
“Haden Joseph Anthony Reece, pleasure to finally meet my own Alpha - if only the circumstances had been slightly different,” the speaking scientist sighed.
Said Alpha didn’t bother with said pleasantries, he was here as Alpha, taking care of a business that shouldn’t be happening in the first place.
“May I dare ask why on earth you have the Hound over your shoulder?” Prissy and pompous, no wonder Haden hadn’t actually spoken to the Cat… he sniffed the air, much to the scientist’s disdain. This SkinJumper isn’t a cat, Haden realised… prey!, his first primal instincts screamed as his beast leapt at it’s frail human flesh restraints, wanting to hold the dominant stag between it’s teeth and show rank.
“Damn,” Angie was quietly chuckling behind Haden, and most likely jabbing Jamie in the stomach, too, “he’s as English as you Jamie - worse even, I’d never thought it possible!” Jamie kept silent, holding back what Haden could only imagine to be a snarl, but he could hear the rough grinding of teeth being clamped together, his jaw must be steel, Haden thought... poor guy.
“Shut it, Angie, unless you want me to throw your feline ass out of here, too?”
She placed a hand on the back of his neck, careful not to touch the Hound, and squeezed.
Haden spoke his approval out loud- “Thank you.” He turned his face slightly towards Angie, calmer through Pack touch along with her promise to keep her mouth closed, and winked at her in a purely cat way.
Haden sensed Angie’s cat practically preening at the open affection of his flirt as he, once again, turned to face the scientist.
“Name?”
“I… Claude Vaesting, of the old German Pack SonneGelübde, that’s SunVow in English. Do you want my animal, too? I’m sure you’ve already sniffed me out.” He appeared completely affronted by the bluntness of such a straight question, and that had turned into childishly rude retaliation.
“Listen Claude, I agree with you, meeting under any other circumstance then yeah, I’d be friendly and keep my claws sheathed, but right now?” Haden blew out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “Right now I have no time for polite acquaintances and only time to hand this Hound over and get as much information out of her as possible.” Thinking of the lengths some of his Packs more far out and reaching scientists took when given a Hound full of juicy information and scientific realisations to play with, Haden’s fist had clenched by the time his miniature speech had concluded. Claude, eyes scandalously flicking to, and then settling on, Haden’s fist, suddenly lost his upper class demeanour, instead falling back into a pinched expression against his tight features. His cheek bones cutting sharp through his slightly stubbled face, as though he hadn’t shaved the previous night or morning, too anxious to get his cleanly cut finger nails on one of the deadliest Hounds in New York - in fact, most likely the top killer; only the age of twenty eight and possessing an unbearable record of 247 kills. Two hundred and forty seven mistakes, Haden thought. And lucky for her, she hadn’t been able to kill one of the most important men in SkinJumper society, in fact, if the file Haden’s Scavenger Dmitri had retrieved was correct, she had in fact killed over fifty of his breed. But saving her pathetically emotionless life, how fortunate that none had been his SkinJumpers, his cats; his Pack. If any one of his Pack had been touched by this Hound, she wouldn’t have only collapsed atop a roof in New York, which, even now, Haden intended to inquire about, but he would have sliced her neck with the small compact knife in his back pocket without hesitation, before thinking about asking questions, and he would have done it with the same cold logic that, given the chance, the Ice would have done, too.
Claude’s light, knowing gaze retreated slightly, to then become piercing in all their pale glory, assessing the stance of his Alpha and the two sentinels silently flanking him, aware of every sound, every fleeting movement the others in the large, private lab made. Haden watched, considerably amused, as the proud stag male before him took in his wide shoulders and heavily muscled chest, seen easily through the slick grey T-shirt he was wearing beneath a rippling black leather jacket. The scientist watched as only an extremely experienced and qualified one such as the likes of Claude Vaesting knew how to do.
Haden recognised him now, or should that be remembered? His thoughts flew back to a time when the SonneGelübde Herd were held in very high regard, a truly respected group in an unlikely control of parts of North America. But something had gone terribly wrong, the honourable Deer had disgracefully been stabbed in the back and they had had to separate, they had had to run. Haden knew the story of how the SkinJumpers in SunVow had been betrayed in their Herds heart, by their version of an Alpha’s mate. She had fallen for the allure of a WaterHound, bewitched by their slickly spoken words and refreshing temptations.
She had been persuaded into believing that her own mate was being un-loyal and that he planned to leave her for a younger, prettier model.
The Hound had driven Sabine to violence acts amidst her Herd, cracking her kind, sweet mind until it was ruined, a distant putrid memory of how she once had been. Water had slid inside of her, become a part of the Deer’s inner being and had tampered with every thought she possessed. The Hound Programme had taken no chances when it had come to the seduction, using their best weapon to infiltrate the loving woman and maddening her so far with dark thoughts and whispers of revenge on her ‘worthless mate’ that it finally drove her over the edge. She had made love to him one last time before brutally murdering Christof in his sleep. Sabine had then called on her WaterHound saviour to tell him of her triumph’s, inviting him to join her inside the blood soaked bed in the middle of the night, only to be greeted with the same death penalty her silent mate had received. An army of IceHounds had then overrun SunVowed territory, killing and slaughtering any SkinJumper that crossed their paths. The Herd had had no choice but to part from one another, to find sanctuary with other Packs - stronger Packs. And it seemed Claude Vaesting had done just that. MidnightWalkers were the top Pack in America, rivalling fiercely with WaveRipplers - wolves that were a constant threat to Haden’s rule. Protecting Pack was of the utmost importance, even when a Pack member had been ‘adopted’ for safety; nothing would stop any Cat from gutting, or, more to their nature, using their claws to rip into shreds, a Hound who dared inflict harm upon any breed of SkinJumper - nothing, not even if they were
wolves.
“I… Claude Vaesting, of the old German Pack SonneGelübde, that’s SunVow in English. Do you want my animal, too? I’m sure you’ve already sniffed me out.” He appeared completely affronted by the bluntness of such a straight question, and that had turned into childishly rude retaliation.
“Listen Claude, I agree with you, meeting under any other circumstance then yeah, I’d be friendly and keep my claws sheathed, but right now?” Haden blew out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “Right now I have no time for polite acquaintances and only time to hand this Hound over and get as much information out of her as possible.” Thinking of the lengths some of his Packs more far out and reaching scientists took when given a Hound full of juicy information and scientific realisations to play with, Haden’s fist had clenched by the time his miniature speech had concluded. Claude, eyes scandalously flicking to, and then settling on, Haden’s fist, suddenly lost his upper class demeanour, instead falling back into a pinched expression against his tight features. His cheek bones cutting sharp through his slightly stubbled face, as though he hadn’t shaved the previous night or morning, too anxious to get his cleanly cut finger nails on one of the deadliest Hounds in New York - in fact, most likely the top killer; only the age of twenty eight and possessing an unbearable record of 247 kills. Two hundred and forty seven mistakes, Haden thought. And lucky for her, she hadn’t been able to kill one of the most important men in SkinJumper society, in fact, if the file Haden’s Scavenger Dmitri had retrieved was correct, she had in fact killed over fifty of his breed. But saving her pathetically emotionless life, how fortunate that none had been his SkinJumpers, his cats; his Pack. If any one of his Pack had been touched by this Hound, she wouldn’t have only collapsed atop a roof in New York, which, even now, Haden intended to inquire about, but he would have sliced her neck with the small compact knife in his back pocket without hesitation, before thinking about asking questions, and he would have done it with the same cold logic that, given the chance, the Ice would have done, too.
Claude’s light, knowing gaze retreated slightly, to then become piercing in all their pale glory, assessing the stance of his Alpha and the two sentinels silently flanking him, aware of every sound, every fleeting movement the others in the large, private lab made. Haden watched, considerably amused, as the proud stag male before him took in his wide shoulders and heavily muscled chest, seen easily through the slick grey T-shirt he was wearing beneath a rippling black leather jacket. The scientist watched as only an extremely experienced and qualified one such as the likes of Claude Vaesting knew how to do.
Haden recognised him now, or should that be remembered? His thoughts flew back to a time when the SonneGelübde Herd were held in very high regard, a truly respected group in an unlikely control of parts of North America. But something had gone terribly wrong, the honourable Deer had disgracefully been stabbed in the back and they had had to separate, they had had to run. Haden knew the story of how the SkinJumpers in SunVow had been betrayed in their Herds heart, by their version of an Alpha’s mate. She had fallen for the allure of a WaterHound, bewitched by their slickly spoken words and refreshing temptations.
She had been persuaded into believing that her own mate was being un-loyal and that he planned to leave her for a younger, prettier model.
The Hound had driven Sabine to violence acts amidst her Herd, cracking her kind, sweet mind until it was ruined, a distant putrid memory of how she once had been. Water had slid inside of her, become a part of the Deer’s inner being and had tampered with every thought she possessed. The Hound Programme had taken no chances when it had come to the seduction, using their best weapon to infiltrate the loving woman and maddening her so far with dark thoughts and whispers of revenge on her ‘worthless mate’ that it finally drove her over the edge. She had made love to him one last time before brutally murdering Christof in his sleep. Sabine had then called on her WaterHound saviour to tell him of her triumph’s, inviting him to join her inside the blood soaked bed in the middle of the night, only to be greeted with the same death penalty her silent mate had received. An army of IceHounds had then overrun SunVowed territory, killing and slaughtering any SkinJumper that crossed their paths. The Herd had had no choice but to part from one another, to find sanctuary with other Packs - stronger Packs. And it seemed Claude Vaesting had done just that. MidnightWalkers were the top Pack in America, rivalling fiercely with WaveRipplers - wolves that were a constant threat to Haden’s rule. Protecting Pack was of the utmost importance, even when a Pack member had been ‘adopted’ for safety; nothing would stop any Cat from gutting, or, more to their nature, using their claws to rip into shreds, a Hound who dared inflict harm upon any breed of SkinJumper - nothing, not even if they were
wolves.
“Well, we’d best begin then.” Claude motioned for Haden and his entourage to walk further into the room, signalling to a younger boy, about Tike’s age, to bring forward three chairs. Haden and Jamie both stood, but Angie, after sending Haden the eyes, mussed the boy’s hair when he ducked it in embarrassment, sat down slowly to watch the sudden teenage interest spark in his low slung eyes, and blew the puffing cub an air kiss that caused him to knock into a lab table and Claude to bark out something indisputable in German that had obviously been translated for the other scientist in the room; they all tried, and failed miserably, to hold in their laughter at whatever profanity had come from Claude’s lips and the retreating figure of the blushing apprentice.
“Hold your tongues,” he stormed.
It appeared that Claude was the Alpha here… or is it just Stag?, Haden pondered. Considering he is a deer - I’ll get Dmitri to find out.
Jamie stood watch just behind Angie; facing the door to be prepared for any intrusions whilst still having the entire lab in full view. Haden had watched the hand closest to Angie flex when walking to stand behind her chair, and he forgot all his duties in that moment, wanting to ask his friend why his jaw was now clenched tight and why his eyes were becoming vacant - guarded, clouding up with regret. Haden felt as though Jamie’s thoughts were far away, reliving a past Haden still struggled to understand. Still, too, in the present, focused, yet - distant.
The slight clearing of a throat caught by the sensitive drums inside Haden’s Cat ears pulled him from his reverie and had him unconsciously manoeuvring the Hound once again into his arms. Claude’s aquiline eyes zeroed in on the move, and before his open mouth could excrete any sound, Haden was already striding towards him. His Beast was satisfied with the Stag’s almost disobedience of tongue when Claude’s Adam’s apple bopped nervously in his short, stubby throat.
“Where’d you want her, then?”
“Over on the examination table - I want to get a good look at the thing before we proceed with the experiments… or anything else.” Haden stopped short in his pace towards the table, a sudden, uncontrollable rage spilling through his veins and boiling around his heart.
“She’s not a thing,” Haden snarled low under his breath. He left his tone quiet enough for Claude to hear the undercurrent of threat, the minute blades that scratched alone the Stag’s perfect skin.
The same surge of protectiveness Haden had felt when looking down into the Ice’s defenceless face surged within him at the sound of such a beautiful being being labelled as something other… She is other, an old, quiet part of himself whispered, just like the last one who watered your heart.
When the Hound was lying flat back against the examination table, Claude grunted under his breath about how the limited space would hamper with his work, and Haden, after hearing the implied desire, immediately caught eyes with both Jamie and Angie, the meaning of the contact loud and clear between Alpha and Sentinel. The two Cats left within the minute, but, Angie being Angie, of course couldn’t leave without enquiring after the young Cub she’d played with to a slender scientist who appeared to be in the earlier stage of her twenties.
“Who? Kyle? - Brown, floppy hair that you just want to run your hands through?” Angie nodded. “Then yeah, that was Kyle.” The tall, blonde scientist blushed a sweet cherry shade across the tips of her model-like cheekbones as Angie sent another air kiss in Kyle’s direction, asking the girl - “Mickie; everyone calls me Mickie,” to be certain that the kiss met Kyle ‘Shmack on the lips, honey!’
Mickie looked after Angie and Jamie as they walked swiftly away from the lab and through the corridor that lead to the normal section of the Medical and Science building, the one where workers and patients were completely unaware of the technologies and experiments present down the end of the dark, PRIVATE corridor.
“Mickie,” Claude called as he began to slowly peel away the sweaty, wet clothes on the Hound‘s body, “make use of your SJ’s speed, dear girl, and fetch me some scientific equipment - I'll put it onto your report the choices you chose - and medicines... strong ones... one's that'll put this non-thing,” a sneer, "to sleep properly for a while."
Haden’s beast leapt at it’s cage then, staring with absolute precision at the roaming hands of Claude Vaesting, wanting to rip the stag’s throat out from it’s neck within a heartbeat. Instead of giving in to the dark temptation a Cat like Haden’s induced, he simply stood to attention on the opposite side of the medical table the Hound lay in defeat upon. His Cat hissed at such a lack in power, and as the hairs pricked up on Claude’s arms, the SkinJumpers’ eyes clashed with one another’s. Claude’s latex glove-covered fingers were itching towards the back of the Hounds flesh coloured bra, and Haden couldn’t control himself. He flicked away the scientist’s hands with enough force to crush bone, and as he heard the satisfying crunch and whimper of pain from suddenly white lips, replaced the empty space where Claude’s hands had been with his own.Haden could’ve sworn he saw something swim behind that pale gaze as he took up Claude’s position leaning over the Hound, something full of malice, like a hatred so strong that it couldn’t be contained behind the business-like composure of a big-headed scientist. Something that was gone in an instant, as though it had never been there to begin with, and Haden simply put it down to the pressure banging at the back of his head, the tell-tale signs of a pounding headache just waiting to make an appearance, and as nothing more than the adrenaline of the entire day finally taking it’s toll upon his mental and soon, most likely, his physical state, too.
"There you are, my girl!" The cheery, wide eyed mask returned as young Mickie entered back into the lab from what appeared to be a small supply closet. "Why don't you put all that down over there and come help Mr. Reece remove these sodden clothes? I can't work like this, their wetness may impede the stability of any possible results."
“Yes, sir. Right away.” Mickie stumbled over to Haden after carefully placing the petite tray of medical drugs onto the table by Claude’s hanging science jacket and gloves. She stood by his side, though careful not to brush against him, his prowling Beast easily recognisable in the sharp shine to his mossy green eyes, the tension blade caught between his shoulders, and the way he watched her touch the Hounds skin with a false laziness, his Cat a feral snipe beneath the gleam his eyes held.
“Mr. Reece?” Young Mickie’s voice sounded distant to Haden’s ears, his thoughts on the pale face of a being who had pulled on his protection strings. He mentally shook himself as the cub called him again, her tone that of one full to the brim with wariness. Haden smiled to the girl, the curve of his lips strengthening when yet another blush bloomed across her cheeks. Hugging Mickie close to him in a quick, reassuring move, Haden leant down to speak into her ear, “Sorry, Mick. I’m tired, is all.” She nodded in understanding, snuggling closer into his hold as Pack mates do when caring for their Alpha. Haden felt his heart squeeze at the thought of his Pack caring for him, a laugh threatening to be tugged from his lips. He nipped at the lobe of Mickie’s ear before placing a final anchoring kiss on top of the nip - a final reassurance that her Alpha was truly ok.
The sound of a throat clearing yanked Mickie from Haden’s arms as she fell back into rushed work.
“If you wouldn’t mind my disappearance for a minute or two, I’m afraid I must attend to finding a brace for my hand.” At Mickie’s confused and, surprisingly worried expression, Claude added, “Don’t fret, my dear, I seem to have-” a flickering glance towards Haden… his Beast snarled in skinned silence-“only mildly sprained it. I’ll be back in tip-top condition soon enough.”
"Yes, sir, of course that's fine." She hesitated, obviously contemplating her next words, "Would you want any assistance?" Mickie paused in the removal of the Hounds hair tie, smiling a thanks as Haden took up the neglected job of pulling free her thick curls.
"Do I look incapable of wrapping a single bandage?!" Claude snapped, his tone sharp and unforgiving. No wonder the poor girl jumps in her skin at the sight of him.
"I'm quite assured, Dr. Vaesting, that you are very much able to do so," Haden fisted a hand in the Hounds hair, finding a strange comfort in it's lemony scent and through the coarse strands that ran over his knuckles upon tightening his hand. He made a concious effort to release anchoring grip on the Hound, angling himself slightly in front of Mickie, not so much as to show her weak, but to be prepared for any figure of attack. He squeezed a safe hand on the back of her neck in protection, though his tone of voice was light and friendly, on the brink even, of being patronising - as though he scolded an insecure child, "Mickie was simply being thoughtful towards the intricacies involved when bracing a hand... In fact, you currently being-" he paused, eyes assessing the limp curl of the fingers on his left hand being cradled by the palm of his right- "handicapped, I think, in the end, you will very much appreciate your apprentice's consideration."
Silence.
CHAPTER FIVE:
The very room seemed full to the brim with tension and an apprehension as to what the response of a collected Stag who prides himself with a status of "the top of the hierarchy" would be.
A choked laugh was pulled from Claude’s lips, his eyes slitting so slightly, pride billowing out the beats of his chest from his inner animal. Haden understood the sudden test, he had hurt the pride of a Stag and, therefore, was left to deal with the consequences.
“Haden!” Angie was knocking on the lab door, oblivious to the saviour status she had must made herself by preventing the great mistake Claude was about to make. “Haden, your dad’s here - he wants permission to come down… Says you might be having some trouble… ‘holding it together.’” Angie recited the end with a hesitant, though no doubt curious note to her silky voice, “Can I let him down?” She asked after opening a gap through the door and peering her head inside. Her quizzical expression tenses as she took in the mess apparent in the lab - Claude’s face was slowly de-fuming, Haden felt Mickie let loose the capturing grip she had, unknown to him, had on his arm as Angie’s eyes skated across the connection. Haden saw the young apprentice flinch when Angie stepped fully into the room, and he thought it sad that such a bright spark had been trampled on by the Doctor so much that simple movement caused her worry. The resonating sound of Angie’s heels clicking against the green tiled floor finally shook Claude completely out of his tall, chest billowing stance and back into, once again, the submissive, polite but outspoken scientist he was.
“I do beg your pardon, Miss Karophé, but could you repeat - oh, you seem surprised by my knowledge towards your name. How silly of me! Of course, being a different breed of SkinJumper and, furthermore, being, as you say, ‘adopted’ into MidnightWalker, I but took it upon myself to become fully acquainted with the names of those in my new Pack. Naturally, you my dear, being a Sentinel, it only seemed adequate that you should be on the list of those I enquired after.” His ending smile was slick, glinting white against the artificial light hanging loosely from the ceiling.
Angie and Haden both shifted on their feet, Haden and his Beast outraged towards the man’s secrecy, and a large furrow replicating a scowl was becoming present atop Angie’s forehead. She hides it well, Haden countered - she pushed forward with a beaming smile and a flirtatious flick of her deep ebony coloured hair.
“Naturally,” was her only reply, a reflective response of how Claude had ended his deceiving monologue.
Haden sensed it before he heard it - a shuddering caress of absolute pain crawled it’s way down his spine just as a curtain of darkness was skimming across the lens of his eyes… eyes burning with a passion equated to that of unshed tears.
And that was when he heard it… the scream.
CHAPTER SIX:
Haden turned to the devastating sight of the Hound arching in silent agony before falling back onto the hard slab of metal she was lying upon.
