Still nothing.
“But you see, the thing is, Holden can’t move on if you’re alive. This isn’t about Sage—I’ve accepted that was my fault. You were just defending yourself, poor little doll.” Lacey reached out to pick up an unoccupied pillow. She grimaced at the feel of days-old body oil sliming up the fabric. “I shouldn’t have tried to kill you back then. I was impatient. I should have waited for a better opportunity.” Lacey closed her eyes briefly, inhaled to steel herself, and looked back to her unknowing enemy.
“Guess that’s now,” she whispered.
Lacey climbed onto the bed, hovering near the body. Trembling that was somewhere between excitement and sorrow coursed through her as she held the pillow up. Maybe this was wrong, part of her whispered. Maybe she should talk to Holden. Maybe—maybe—Rachael was a victim, just like Lacey was. Maybe Holden was actually toxic and in different ways just ruining their lives.
Maybe Holden didn’t deserve either of them.
But it was too late. Lacey had already committed. So she shoved the traitorous thoughts aside and the filthy pillow over Rachael’s face. She pressed down as hard as she could.
Now she waited for her enemy to stop breathing altogether.
Chapter Sixteen
I’m dying.
This wasn’t the first time Rachael had that thought since her infection. All too often it felt as though the life was being siphoned from her. Her muscles felt weak, her head mushy and hot, her eyelids heavy, her legs weighted with lead... the infection was trying to kill her.
But this was different. For some reason she struggled to breathe, and everything around her was black. Rachael tried to sit up, but it felt like her head was strapped to a table.
Then she began to feel dizzy and faint, and she realized she was dying. Panicked, Rachael begged her limbs to move. Why wouldn’t they move?
At last whatever mental bindings held her down unraveled. Rachael threw her arms and legs about. One of her knees connected with something solid, and for a moment the terrible weight attempting to kill her lifted. Then, just as quickly and with much more strength, it shoved back down on her.
This wasn’t the infection. It was an outside force.
One of Rachael’s hands flew up and connected with two things; smooth, dainty fingers and something soft yet taut over her face.
Furious, she gripped a protruding arm with both hands and yanked. A startled yelp echoed in her ears, and then Rachael was free. She scrambled up, gasping for air like a drowning swimmer. Rachael propelled herself off the mattress and tumbled to the floor, looking around wildly. These surroundings were familiar yet strange; new and frightening. But she’d seen it all before... hadn’t she? Had that been a dream?
She wasn’t certain. But the stunned face peering down at her was definitely one she recognized. Rachael’s lips parted in a snarl.
“Lacey,” she spat.
The other woman looked at her in disbelief. She hurriedly clambered off the bed, but Rachael practically stepped right on her heels. She still ached and her chest hurt, but she was also pissed. Rachael was sick and tired of this woman who kept trying to kill her.
She thought she would chase Lacey into the hallway, but the moment Lacey had the door open she changed her mind and whirled to face Rachael. Her arm swung out—but Rachael was no longer impressed by Lacey’s speed. It just seemed normal, like any other strike she had come up against in her college martial arts training.
So Rachael blocked it and struck back, landing a solid blow to Lacey’s collarbone.
Surprise registered on the other woman’s face. Lacey toppled, but she was no amateur. She kicked viciously at Rachael’s leg, causing her to stumble as well. Seizing her opportunity—and Rachael’s hair—Lacey yanked her down to the ground.
Even worse, exhaustion began to tug at Rachael insistently. Her body was tired. She needed rest.
I can’t. She’ll kill me.
But the infection was powerful, and Rachael was far from recovered. Dizziness made her head fuzzy as she fought, and she could feel her clarity slipping. Gradually her moves became more sluggish.
Lacey saw and took advantage. She knocked Rachael upside the head with a closed fist, and then kicked her while she grappled to bring air into her lungs.
Rachael screamed, though it was weak and frustrated. Why was she so helpless? Wasn’t becoming a lycan supposed to improve that?
Why was she always on the wrong end of a fight?
Her strength seemed to come and go. Unfortunately, that meant all Lacey had to do was wear her down. Rachael struggled to keep up, but her hopes rapidly began to vanish.
Why was that? Where was everyone? Why was she alone in this?
Rachael wasn’t certain if any of this was real. That didn’t stop her from trying to end things with Lacey bleeding out, gasping for air on the carpet.
Finally, Lacey had her pinned to the floor. Surprisingly strong hands wrapped around Rachael’s throat. Rachael dazedly recalled being in a similar position eight years ago. Only that had been her as a scared teenager against a merciless lycan child. Roxi also wanted her gone—for Aaron’s interest in her, though at the time it had been strictly business.
Now she was an infected not-quite-human, not-quite lycan, up against a full lycan who seemed grimly determined to see her dead.
Rachael scratched at Lacey’s arms, but the woman refused to let go. She pressed her lips tighter together and stared down at Rachael with dim, almost emotionless bronze-gold eyes.
Just when Rachael was certain this was all a terrible dream anyway, and that she might as well give in to Death’s enticing seduction just so she could get some rest, her eyes caught a glimpse of darkness in human form.
Then Rachael’s foe was ripped from her and tossed into the hallway with a terrible crash.
Ͼ
They passed Lacey’s car in their way to the house. Holden cursed aloud. “God damn it, she got this far.”
Owen looked uneasy. Still the young man continued to direct him, and within a minute they pulled to a stop in front of a small brick house. The front door was wide open. Inside someone shouted.
“Wait,” Owen protested as Holden opened his door.
Holden ignored him, running toward the home. He caught a glimpse of Lacey climbing to her feet at the end of a hallway—and of Aaron Moreno, who didn’t appear to see Holden, but fixed murderous eyes upon Holden’s former girlfriend.
Before he reached the threshold, somebody grabbed him. Holden fought back, but a small blur with dark hair delivered a low blow that brought him to his knees. Then he was grabbed into a choke hold and yanked to his feet with slender yet shockingly strong arms.
A flat woman’s voice said into his ear, “We’re all pissed off enough after your buddy’s pack took Nathan’s eye. I suggest you stop fighting before this gets worse.”
What?
Holden had no idea what was going on, but he bowed to no one. Despite the stranglehold on his neck, he reached back to grab at his captor’s face. Off to the side he heard Owen snarl, and when Holden looked the young man was cornered by three children; Ana Sofia, Nathan, and Seritta. All were furious, and all bared their teeth.
To humans that might look silly, but these kids were lycan—and violently dangerous. If he continued to struggle, they might harm his charge.
Holden finally stopped fighting and fought to catch his breath around his captor’s arms. He managed to wheeze out, “Stand down.”
Owen glanced up at him unhappily, but raised his hands obediently.
Then Holden finally had the moment to catch a good look of Nathan and he realized what his enemy spoke of. The boy shot him a disdainful glance—with one eye. The other was wrapped in stripped cloth. Blood stained the starkly white material.
What the hell’s been going on? he thought. His stomach weighed down heavily. This hadn’t been his guys work... which meant it had to be Olivia’s, or whoever had taken over after Olivia’s unceremonious slaughter.
>
Holden might have hated Nathan, and oftentimes thought he would be better off dead. But he’d never been a fan of torture.
And whatever Lacey was doing inside, she’d just made everything a whole lot worse.
Ͼ
Rachael picked herself up, gasping for breath. She caught sight of her boyfriend and a sense of relief overwhelmed her; that she wasn’t alone, that he was here, that she was safe.
But Aaron didn’t even look at her. His entire focus was on Lacey, and he moved with brutal accuracy. When Lacey tried to run, Aaron swung his leg out with a powerful kick that knocked her back into the wall.
“Lacey, stop! Stop fighting them!”
Jesus, was that Holden? What were they doing here?
And why can’t they just leave us alone? she thought in vexation.
Fury fed strength to Rachael’s muscles once more. She shoved past Aaron and tackled Lacey while she was still down. The blonde beneath her swore and snagged her hair. Rachael ignored the pain. Instead she lashed out, digging unclipped nails into Lacey’s cheek. The woman beneath her bellowed and yanked. The sound of strands tearing from Rachael’s scalp vaguely registered.
Though she got a couple more hits in, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her off. She struggled against Aaron’s hold, shouting down at Lacey, “I never even did anything to you! You want me dead so badly, fight me while I’m awake, you passive-aggressive bitch!”
“Rachael,” Aaron hissed into her hear. “That is enough.”
She snarled and jammed an elbow back into his ribs. Aaron grunted but infuriatingly kept his hold on her. That just made her angrier. She didn’t want his understanding, she wanted Lacey gone.
Rachael screamed, “I only have problems because of her! I never wanted to watch Holden fuck someone—I never wanted to see him like that at all! She tricked him into it. She fucking told me so! God damn it, Aaron, let me go!”
Rather than remain on the floor, Lacey stood and rushed toward the only door. She hardly made it past the hallway before she was grabbed by Jackson. He wore a forebodingly grim expression.
With the adversaries subdued, Aaron tightened both arms around Rachael while she continued to shriek. Why was he stopping her? She needed to fight; Rachael needed to prove she wasn’t helpless anymore. Throughout her entire time with the lycans she’d always resorted to relying on their help. But now she was stronger. She knew she was; she felt it during her tussle with Lacey, had noticed even her speed was faster in spite of her weakened state.
But Aaron refused to release her. At long last, when the rage broke down into smaller, more manageable pieces, Rachael burst into tears. She stiffened when Aaron tried to hold her, but her eyes refused to stop leaking.
As her sobs faded, she gradually began to relax in her boyfriend’s embrace. Aaron pulled her close, stroked her hair, and whispered comforting words into her ear.
Then he murmured, “I know what you are trying to do, Rachael. Trust me when I say you are not weak. But it is not your job to prove it. I am your alpha. It is my job to protect you first, and strengthen you with time.” He pulled back, cradling her jaw in both hands and tilting her head so she could look at him. Quietly, his expression only showing the barest hint of concern, he asked, “Will you let me do that?”
Rachael drew in a shuddering breath. Then, slowly, she nodded.
Relief touched his dark eyes for a fraction of a moment. “Good.” He kissed her. It was short but gentle, and Rachael felt all his promises flow into her with warm consideration.
Then he broke it off, and his expression went frigid. Aaron brushed past her and toward the living room, his voice low but demanding. “Bring the intruders inside. People will stare. Ana Sofia, close the door. Jackson, give her to me.”
Jackson obeyed. Lacey’s eyes widened and she swung, but Aaron easily grabbed both her wrists and twisted until she cried out. Her knees buckled when he didn’t relent.
Though exhausted, Rachael refused to lie down again. She waved off Jackson’s concerned questions and pressed forward as the scene traveled to the living room.
It was a bizarre sight: Eva keeping Holden in a headlock, the children ushering a strange man inside while Seritta cradled the infant, and Aaron with his painful grip on Lacey. She thought the stranger looked familiar, but in that moment could not place him. Rachael’s boyfriend—and alpha, she realized with a sense of the surreal—stared Holden down.
“I believe we have something of yours,” said Aaron tightly.
Holden’s chest heaved, a mixture of emotions warring in his tumultuous eyes. “Don’t hurt her. You have me. Let her go.”
The look Lacey shot her alpha was one of surprise. Then her eyes softened, and she offered him a weak smile. Rachael crept forward a bit more, her curiosity at its peak.
Aaron sneered, looking his former charge up and down. “Your work has become sloppy, Ambassador,” he said, using a mocking nickname he’d given Holden years ago.
Holden growled. “I didn’t come here to do anything. Just to get her back. She wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Rachael wondered how much of that was a lie. She knew the others were dubious, especially given the scornful twist of Jackson’s mouth.
But Aaron just observed Holden in silence, taking his time to do so. Amazingly, he said, “I believe you.”
Everyone in the room seemed startled. Even Lacey twisted to look up at him, her eyes enormous.
“What?” demanded Jackson. “Boss—”
Aaron silenced him with a deadly glower. A sharp intake of air flew down Rachael’s throat. This wasn’t so simple, she knew. While she couldn’t predict what Aaron might be thinking, whatever decision he was about to make would not be a kind one.
“I believe you, Holden,” repeated Aaron. Uncanny smoothness accompanied his words. “The problem is, that does not matter.”
Holden visibly stiffened. “Aaron—”
“You will be silent until I permit you to speak.”
Rachael flinched. Although he didn’t raise his voice, Aaron exuded an aura of cutting ice. His grip on Lacey tightened until the woman winced.
Aaron lashed out with words sharp as a whip. “I have given you more than enough chances, Holden Cavanaugh. I have permitted you to live in spite of my conviction to see you dead on numerous occasions. Each instance you have somehow managed not to learn a single lesson and continue in your stubborn resistance against an enemy of which you have none. You chase after ghosts. You choose to pursue a vendetta that will not allow you to come out victorious. And upon creating your pack, you have time and again put them in the face of unnecessary danger.”
He shot a meaningful glance at Owen, who stared defiantly back. But the young man made the wise decision not to move.
“You are the most pathetic alpha I have ever had the misfortune to know,” growled Aaron. “Your attempts to bring your pack together have been nothing short of selfish. And you chose today, an already trying day for the rest of us, to allow your pack to run free? To commit violence against my people?”
Apparently forgetting Aaron’s earlier threat, Holden started to protest. “I didn’t—”
“My people!” shouted Aaron with unmitigated fury. His voice blew forth in a forceful explosion, knocking everyone askew from the shock. “My brother was harmed. My girlfriend was nearly killed. Jackson, Eva, Ana Sofia, Nathan, Rachael—they are mine. That you dare to presume you can take them from me in the unlikely event of my murder is laughable. You will not have them. Even if I die, you will not have them. This is my pack. Nathan is my brother, and Rachael is my mate.”
Rachael didn’t know what to make of this speech. A part of her was horrified to hear such blatantly selfish, possessive words fall from Aaron’s mouth.
Yet it somehow made her feel warm and soft. That Aaron could become so passionate in how he thought of her was completely unexpected. They had spent weeks keeping their relationship relatively low-key, and years before that separated and tryi
ng to move on. His words now utterly defied his actions in years past—and she believed he meant every one of them.
Rachael had to cover her mouth. She blinked back confused tears.
“Had you simply come to me and sincerely apologized, I would have welcomed you back,” continued Aaron. The sharp edge had dulled in his voice, but something far worse replaced it. Holden blanched. “You have been exiled, but all it would have taken was honest repentance. All it would have taken was for you to admit you were wrong to terrorize Rachael, wrong to betray us, and show effort to make amends.”
Holden shot back, “You’re not my alpha anymore. The moment you kicked me out, you stopped being my alpha.”
“The moment you murdered Vera, you ceased to be of any use to the pack,” snapped Aaron. “Since then you have been nothing but a hindrance.”
“If you hadn’t touched Rachael—”
Aaron’s eyes went opaque. “Let me ask you this, Holden. Does Rachael matter more than the woman standing before you?” He grabbed a fistful of Lacey’s hair and yanked hard. Rachael would be lying if she didn’t admit seeing Lacey in pain pleased her. “If you had to lose one, who would it be?”
Something dark twinged inside of Rachael at his question. She stared at her boyfriend, unable to comprehend why he would ask such a thing. It wasn’t for sheer cruelty; he always had a point to make. But if Holden chose her, it would crush Lacey, and if he chose Lacey, what would it matter?
Holden actually appeared at a loss for words. He glanced at Rachael for a fraction of a second, but then fixed his eyes on the woman he had once called Primary. Rachael couldn’t help but watch and wonder what he was thinking.
Finally, Holden whispered, “I was willing to let her die, so... I guess Rachael. I’d rather lose Rachael.”
Lacey bit her lip. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
But when she opened her mouth to speak, Aaron grabbed her by the head and broke her neck in one ugly, terrible motion.
Pact of the Pack Page 17