Destiny hesitated, suddenly torn. He remembered thinking of Markus as his, as something that belonged which needed protecting. But Markus wasn’t the only thing that belonged to him. There was his pack to think about. Cain and everyone else, all of them fighting like they had forgotten they had any humanity.
Just like I did. Markus was the only thing that could snap me out of it. That was only after I got it all out of my system.
There was nothing else he could do. He couldn’t go back and take each wolf aside and talk them down, and repeat the process for everyone. He knew Brock wouldn’t do that for his own wolves.
All those fighters had to get this out of their system. They wouldn’t listen to reason until then.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Destiny made himself become a human again. The switch ran completely against his instincts, though it aligned quite readily with his sense of logic. He straightened up, reaching out to grab onto Markus’ hand as the omega offered it to him. Their fingers tangled together, good and right.
“I’m with you,” he said.
Always. Even when he shouldn’t be. His wild, uninhibited thoughts during his little freak-out back there had told him that much. They would have to deal with that sooner or later, but not right now.
Markus held his hand tighter, and they ran together to their motorcycles, though they had to let go of each other to retrieve them
Going their separate ways to retrieve their bikes made him feel like he had lost a very important limb, one imperative to his survival. Their fingers sliding apart, fingertips brushing together, then only encountering empty air...it was like a physical ache.
They joined together again at the entrance to the park, having navigated through the maze of other bikes that had clogged up the parking lot. There was no way for them to hold hands, not while they were on separate motorcycles, but seeing Markus again made him feel better.
They rode off. Destiny took the lead automatically, then glanced over with a dull throb of surprise as Markus sped up so they were nearly level again.
“We’re equally deep in this shit,” Markus called over to him, his voice nearly lost beneath the roaring of engines and the constant background ambiance of a bustling city.
Tears of gratitude jumped up into Destiny’s eyes, torn away by the wind. The warmth that rose up inside him at the real meaning of this statement, that they were in this together, that they would figure it out together, was there to stay. No amount of wind could push it out of him, not when he would always keep that warmth tucked away right next to his heart.
Now they were together, through better or worse, there was the little matter of exactly where they were going to go. Markus couldn’t return home.
Destiny didn’t think that he would be able to walk up to his pack in the garage, lest he be ripped to shreds. Wounded animals were incredibly dangerous, and his pack had certainly been wounded mentally and physically by his actions. They would need time to heal.
“Hotel?” Destiny called over.
“Sounds good to me!”
Probably the best thing to do would have been to head up north using the interstate, putting some distance between them and the battle as fast as possible. However, Destiny found himself balking at the idea. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the third pack who was causing so much havoc, and he also didn’t want to be far away from his own group. They might decide they needed him.
Making a sudden snap decision, he took them to a Days Inn hotel in the historic downtown area. It wasn’t much of a historical area, as far as such things went. A lot of older buildings. Some plaques to read about what minorly important figure had done here or where they had visited.
Pretty sad when your only claim to fame is that some third-rate senator stayed here to visit his relatives, about 50 years ago.
Pensacola did have its fair share of interesting sites, including a naval base and a wildlife reserve, but those had their own unique histories which weren’t to be told here.
The hotel wasn’t historic at all and didn’t even make an attempt to match the theme of the area, its modern design and crisp cleanliness sticking out like a sore thumb.
Destiny parked in the rear lot, which was quite empty. He had to remind himself that it was still quite early in the day, no matter how late it felt to him. Everyone else was out and about, enjoying their time.
With Markus at his side, he went in and walked right up to the counter as if he belonged there.
The receptionist, a balding man who was nearly old enough to retire, balked hard at the sight of them. His gray eyes went from friendly and warm, like a light summer rain shower, to being as frigid as the foamy ice which sometimes formed on colder beaches in the winter.
Destiny winced inwardly, doing his best to keep this from showing on the outside. He should have stopped at a gas station on the way so they could clean up, or else just chosen a cheaper hotel which might be used to seeing weird things like this.
“Can I…help you, gentlemen? Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance?” The man reached for his phone as he spoke, probably already halfway through the call with a 911 operator in his mind.
“No,” Destiny said. He said it low and calm and pleasant and also with the undercurrent of an alpha command. A human might not be able to feel the true power of his command, wouldn’t feel as if they had been compelled to obey by some force outside their understanding, but the way he said it was still enough to catch the receptionist’s attention.
The man paused, his eyes flicking back and forth between Destiny and Markus. “Sir, I really should…You look very hurt.”
“Just wiped out on my bike, is all,” Markus jumped in. He spoke with the breezy lightness of someone who really couldn’t give a shit. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the double doors that they had passed through to enter the building. “My hog. My motorcycle.” The bald receptionist probably didn’t need these clarifications to understand. Markus gave them anyway, because that was exactly what an obnoxious, skinny biker would do in this situation.
In other words, Markus was a far better actor than Destiny would have given him credit for.
Or maybe the old man with the kind gray eyes was really gullible.
“Rode straight through the night,” Markus went on, quite literally yapping now. “We wanted to get here as fast as possible. No sense wasting those vacation days, right?”
He was laying it on thick now, a little too thick. Destiny prepared to hear those apologetic words: sorry, they were all full, can’t help you. That was pretty much bullshit, as hotels were never actually full at any given time due to a rotation schedule they followed. Nevertheless, this geezer would give them the usual spiel and send them on their way. As soon as they were out of hearing range, he would alert his manager that a pair of bloodied strangers had tried to get a room.
The manager would spread the news to the managers of other hotels. Suddenly, every place that Destiny tried would be unable to help him. They would end up having to find one of those really skeevy places, the sort that make deals with prostitutes, drug sellers, and questionable suppliers in order to stay afloat.
“One room or two?”
Destiny stared, stunned and also delighted at being proven wrong for once. “One is fine. Give us the cheapest, crummiest, most terrible room you’ve got. The one with all the leaking pipes and the TV that doesn’t work.”
“All our rooms are perfect here at Days Inn,” the old man replied while tapping away at his computer screen. Meaning, of course, he had already been planning to do exactly that. “It’s $70 a night. How long will you gentlemen be staying with us?”
“If we need to stay for longer than we originally thought, can that be arranged?”
An irritated look briefly flashed across the man’s face. He was no doubt thinking of the rotation schedule, the way guests were booked in a staggered way so one could come in to occupy a spot that another had just left. What Destiny was asking wou
ld throw a wrench into their perfect system, creating a blind spot of uncertainty.
“I would have to speak to my manager about that. Would you like for me to summon her? She can answer your questions better than I can.”
“No,” Destiny replied.
We’ll just have to deal with that when it comes to that.
“Three nights.”
$210, plus tax, was quite a bit more than he had been planning to spend today. He might end up shelling out even more before this was over with. He paid with a sigh, then accepted two copies of the room key.
The receptionist wished him a good day, then turned around and pretended to busy himself with something that required his immediate attention. He was rather good at the façade, so much so that Destiny might have actually believed it if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the man at a different angle as he was going down the hallway in the direction of the elevator. The man was fiddling around with the leaves of a potted plant, lifting them up and then letting them flop back down into their natural position. His expression was of a person who was trying very hard to figure something out.
Destiny supposed the guy was still struggling with the decision of whether or not to alert his manager of the presence of two bloodied bikers. His choice would make itself known eventually. If the police showed up, he’d told. If they never did, then he had decided to just put this behind him in hopes that it never happened again.
Their room was small and cramped, too much furniture shoved into not enough space. The pipes in the bathroom did indeed look as if they were prone to leaking, though there were some signs that makeshift repairs had been performed in the past. Mainly duct tape.
So, Destiny had to give them some credit for that.
The television worked, which was a nice surprise. The image was permanently stuck on negative, which wasn’t.
Markus perched on the bed and flipped through the channels until he found the news, where a couple of blue-skinned alien people were jabbering about some scandal or another. Some teacher who had punched a parent.
“What are you doing?” Destiny asked. “Are you really so calm about this that you’re watching TV?”
Markus flicked him an annoyed glance. Blood was drying on his face, flaking off in little patches that left him looking distinctly reptilian. “We caused a whole hell of a lot of havoc out there. Wolves, right out there in the middle of a park where there were humans. I’m watching for breaking news, live updates. Anything.”
Destiny sighed and rubbed his face. “Good idea. Sorry.”
Markus flashed him a little smile, which made him feel better. Not a whole lot better, but a little. “You’re okay.”
Destiny watched the omega for a moment, his heart squeezing tight in his chest. He turned and went into the bathroom, where he ran warm water onto a washcloth.
Markus accepted the gift, using it to remove some of the worst of the bloodstains. Destiny sat down on an armchair nearby, which had been squished up between the air conditioning unit and a full-sized desk. He listened idly to the TV with one ear while watching Markus.
The wounds Markus had sustained in the fight were superficial, already scabbing over. There were a lot of them, shallow lacerations that covered his arms and legs, a few fang-marks on his side, but they weren’t very devastating in the grand scheme of things.
Markus glanced over, noticing him watching. His eyelids lowered, his expression softening. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be a lot worse off.”
Before Destiny could reply, his phone rang. He snatched it out of his pocket and jammed it against his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey,” a tired voice replied.
Destiny stood up, his nerves jangling. Like a caged animal he couldn’t be still, so he started to pace around the room. “Cain? Are you okay? What’s going on? Is anyone…dead?”
“Everyone’s fine, more or less,” Cain said. The words came hard, as if he was having to rip them out of his throat. “Lots of injuries. Nothing life-threatening. Right around the time that everyone realized you had left, the fights started breaking up.”
Thank goodness.
“I sent everyone away. Worst injuries are on their way to the hospital, supposedly. Lesser injuries are here at the garage, patching each other up. Everyone else, I told them to take their asses home and think about what they’d done.”
“It wasn’t their fault,” Destiny said.
“No. But they need to see that there’s no way that you betrayed them like Brock said.” Cain let out an enormous sigh into the phone, making Destiny feel like he’d been caught in a hurricane. “Most of them just look stunned. Like they can’t believe this happened. I’m right along with them. But a lot of them also look ashamed. Which serves them right. Fucking idiots.”
“How is Ralphie? And Knox?”
“Knox doesn’t have a care in the world.” Cain’s voice momentarily softened with love for his son. “Ralphie’s making sure of that. He’s worried, though.”
“Take care of them.”
“You know I will. To my last breath. But what about you jerks? How are you? Are you okay?”
Destiny quickly filled Cain in on where they were. He could feel his second-in-command’s disapproval filtering through the phone.
“I wish you would have gone further. But you’re a grown man. You can take care of yourself.”
Destiny snorted, and Cain laughed.
“You two should probably just stay low for a while. Switch hotels a bit if you need to. Maybe find one that has people living there. This is all going to blow over, but I don’t think it’s going to go fast.”
His heart sank so low he could feel it sitting on the bottom of his stomach, sour and heavy. “Will you take care of the pack while I’m gone?”
“You know I will,” Cain promised. “I’ll keep you updated. I’m going to do what I can to convince people that you’re right. We’ll do some investigating of our own.”
“And Markus and I will keep doing the same.”
“No.”
Anger rose inside Destiny at being denied, especially in a firm tone so reminiscent of an alpha’s command. He was on top here. He was the one who gave the orders. Not the other way around.
“I can feel you being pissed off, so back off and let me explain,” Cain growled. “I don’t have much longer. I need to go. So just hear me out. The packs need to come around to this on their own terms. You need to lay low and let them do it. If you don’t, you’re going to get your scent everywhere, and they’ll just keep being suspicious.”
“So, just do your own thing for a little while, Dusty. Maybe patch things up with the omega you’re sharing a hotel room with.”
“How the hell could you have known that?”
“I can hear the TV. And you are definitely not the kind of person who would think to turn the TV on right now. So, tell Markus I said hi. And treat this like a vacation. Because when it’s over, you aren’t going to get a break for a very long time.”
Cain hung up. Destiny lowered his phone from his ear and just looked at it for a long moment.
Markus glanced over, holding onto the washcloth that was now so covered in blood that Destiny could almost be convinced red was its natural color. “Well?”
“Cain says hello.”
11
They slept together, disheartened and discouraged by the events of the day. The events at the park were indeed reported on, though the human investigators treated the scene as one of gang violence.
“I swear it sounded like a bunch of dogs fighting,” one witness declared. “It was just so brutal. I’m surprised no one died.”
Markus was surprised too and also very glad. As stupidly as everyone acted, he would have hated for anyone to lose their life to what had essentially been a catastrophic misunderstanding. Of course, the sudden influx of motorcyclists to various hospitals would catch the attention of the police. The connection would be made. Maybe the media would learn of this on their own, or it would be leaked. E
ither way, the entirety of Pensacola would soon be hearing rumors that the “peaceful” rivalry between their two major motorcycle clubs had escalated.
That rumor would be right, though the theories as to exactly why this happened would all be wrong.
The only thing to do for any of this was to wait it out.
He had his suspicions that Destiny hadn’t told him the full truth about what he had discussed with Cain. There seemed to be gaps in the narrative, inexpertly covered up.
What had been omitted, he just didn’t know. He couldn’t even begin to figure out how to ask about that.
He wasn’t even sure he should ask at all, what with Destiny’s demeanor. The alpha looked as if he had aged several years over the course of the day. His handsome face seemed sallow, devoid of color, and his eyes were a little sunken.
He actually looked like a soldier who had seen and done things he would never speak of. Strong, capable. Haunted.
It was Destiny who went to bed first, shortly after requesting some toiletries be brought up to their room. He accepted the delivery, tipped the deliverer, went into the bathroom, and brushed his teeth with a brand-new toothbrush. Markus had watched out of the corner of his eye, relying on a mirror that just so happened to provide the perfect angle to see down the hall and into that small room. Even just the act of personal grooming seemed to be draining Destiny of his strength, his shoulders drooping like he couldn’t even lift his toothbrush anymore.
Afterwards, Destiny came over to the bed, slid under the covers, and went still. The careful, measured rhythm of his breathing eventually slowed down into the true cadence of sleep.
When he was certain that Destiny was really down for the count, Markus turned his head to look at the alpha. The covers were pulled up almost all the way over his head, only allowing for a few tendrils of pale brown hair to be seen. He wanted so much to cross the short distance between them, to stroke those errant tendrils back into place, to curl up in Destiny’s arms so that the world could start feeling right again.
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