Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Psychopath

Psycho

The amount of weapons piled into the cager was obnoxious. I looked over at Menace, who grinned at me before spitting a brown stream of chew onto the ground.

"I mean, if you don't think it's enough, I can go get the fucking rocket launcher," he said.

I shook my head. "No, man. This is enough. How many UV guns we got?"

Trigger answered, "There's three. They're dark-blue. We made sure they didn't look entirely like regular handguns when we had them designed."

Menace and Trigger were my firearms experts. Cutter was great with weapons too, but mostly knives. I swore that man could fashion a knife out anything. I once saw him melt down plastic, sharpen the edge on some metal, and wrap twine around the bottom to create a handle. An honest-to-God shank.

I looked at my watch. It was late afternoon. It taken all day to gather these weapons and a plan. I wanted to go in during the day, it would be easier to get the women out, but it didn't work out that way.

Gentilly wasn't far, but we also did not want to risk our loud bikes, not to mention we needed room for the weapons, so the Humvee was the obvious choice. We weren't sure what we were going to face, but I wasn't letting Nera spend an extra second in captivity of those fucking bloodsuckers. What sucked was that we were going in blind. We had no idea how many there were or how many other captives they had.

Nera told me there were four leeches who had her and the others captive, but that could have changed in the few weeks she'd been away from them. We were prepared for anything now, though.

Trigger drove as the rest of us slowly scanned the streets of the small town. Lake Pontchartrain also bordered Gentilly. Interesting the vamps chose this place to keep their captives—interesting but not completely baffling. The way it was set up, there were plenty of places to isolate and detain young women.

"Dammit," Wizard said from the backseat, staring at his laptop.

I turned and looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"Damn small town doesn't have traffic cams. Or none that I can find to hack into." He furrowed his brow and pushed his glasses up higher on his face.

"It's okay, we'll find them," I assured him, not so sure myself but definitely determined.

We cruised around the residential areas for what seemed like hours, but didn't see the van. That didn't mean it wasn't parked in a garage, but the thing was fairly large. I wasn't sure if it would fit in one.

"Try the industrial area," Menace said from the backseat, looking up at the now-dark sky. "This time of night it'll be quiet and dark. Good place to hide humans."

I looked at Trigger. "Need the GPS?"

"Yeah, might as well,"

I looked on Google Maps and found a cluster of warehouses near the water. I chose a random one and put it into the maps app.

It didn't take long before we were in an industrial park.

"Keep your eyes peeled for that van," I said, more to myself than everyone else—not that they didn't already know.

We drove around for about thirty minutes when I grew tired and frustrated. I huffed in annoyance.

"Maybe that witch was wrong. Maybe she was just fucking with us," Trigger suggested.

It was only him, Menace, and me in the cager so I felt easy about being honest.

"It could be, but you never know. Though I got the impression she really seemed to dig Nera, and didn't charge us for the locator spell, so I think she was legit," I said, rubbing my fingertips down my beard as I stared out the window into the night sky.

As Trigger steered toward the industrial area, my mind drifted. It shouldn't be drifting, I should be laser-focused on finding Nera, but after hours of driving around, I started to lose hope, like I had when I'd been with the Hellcats.

"You wanna be a prospect forever, or do you wanna get patched eventually, you little bitch?" This was followed up with a slap upside the head, and the only reason Uncle Jimmy was able to was because I was on my knees.

I stood, panting out loud, and raised myself to my full height. "If you put your hands on me one more time, you and me are gonna have some problems." I set my jaw and stared at my uncle in his cruel blue eyes.

He laughed. "Oh, is that so, son?"

"I'm not your son," I gritted out.

"You're my fucking prospect and that's good enough." He took a plastic bottle filled with wolfsbane-laced water and used the nozzle to shower my head with it.

The wolfsbane burned temporarily and I knew he had done that to enrage me. To get my testosterone flowing and to hype me up.

"Now, go kick some vampire ass," he said, smacking me on the butt.

We were nothing more than dogs, fighting in a ring. The vampires did it for entertainment purposes, but the wolves did it for money. Ten grand in cash to the winner, and after I'd staked that vamp, apparently Uncle Jimmy thought I was ready for the ring. I'd only been training a few weeks before this, but he'd run out of patience—and apparently, money.

The rules were simple: No supernatural tricks—super speed, or fangs and claws. Super strength was allowed.

The tall Black vamp was a wall of muscle. He had caramel-colored eyes that made him look ethereal and massive biceps. Mine were coming along, but even with me at six-two, he was still taller than me.

I raised my fists and bounced on the balls of my feet, waiting for him to make the next move. He glared at me and then smiled, punching out quickly to catch me in the jaw. My head snapped back, spit flying from my mouth.

Fuck, that hurt.

I heard him chuckle under his breath and that just pissed me off.

I dove for his mid-section, my high school football days coming back to me, and tackled him to the floor of the ring. I straddled his middle and hammered punches to his face, only getting in a few before he bucked me off and flipped me on my back. I managed to get up before he could pin me, and punched him in his wall of muscle stomach.

He grunted but it didn't do much. Vampires' healing ability was much quicker than ours, so the sting only lasted a few seconds. He lunged at me and his fist caught me on the side of the head, taking me down with a blinding headache. Then, he leapt on me and dug his fingers into my stomach, cracking my two bottom ribs and almost crushing my stomach. I whimpered and curled into a protective ball, gripping my head with one hand and my midsection with another, resisting the urge to cry out like the little bitch Uncle Jimmy said I was.

"Get your fucking ass up right now!" he shouted. Speak of the devil.

I glared at my uncle, and if I'd had a free hand, I would have given him the finger.

"…four, three, two, one!" I barely heard the ref count down to indicate I'd been down too long.

I rolled over with a groan to see the ref lift the vampire's arm up high, declaring him the winner.

Fuck.

I stood and limped to the side of the ring, Jake lifting the nylon ropes enough for me crawl though.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Uncle Jimmy bellowed.

"Quit it, Pops. I got this," Jake snarled at his dad, my arm over his shoulder to help me out of there.

Jake got into the back of the van with me, immediately plucking the first-aid kit off the wall. He wrapped my ribs in gauze and medical tape, and hissed while he wrapped it tight. I would heal quickly, but my temper would not.

Uncle Jimmy and his second-in-command, Enforcer, yanked the doors open. My uncle looked murderous.

"How the hell did you let a disgusting-ass vampire best you? Huh, boy?" he seethed.

"Back off, Pops. He's hurt. He did his best."

"No, the fuck he did not," Enforcer said, glaring at us.

I groaned. "Yes, I did. Maybe next time match us up equally. That fucker had at least fifty pounds and three inches on me. Take a play out of the humans' MMA handbook. You have to match us equally for it to be an equal fight." I glared at my uncle.

He scoffed. "Vamp versus wolf. It's that simple and you lost and fucking humiliated me. We don't need human rules to fight each other."

"We don't need to be fighting each other at all!" I screamed, lunging toward my uncle.

He side-stepped and Enforcer stepped in front, and caught the brunt of my wrath. My ribs and head ached but it was nothing debilitating.

Enforcer yelled when I tackled him to the ground. I sat on his chest and pummeled his face into a bloody pulp.

Every hit was a blow of anger toward my uncle.

Making me fight when I didn't want to. Punch.

Beating my ass with a belt saying I needed it since I didn't have a father around. Punch.

Making me watch him beat Jake's ass and leave his whole face purple after we shoplifted candy bars from the local convenience store when we were eight. Punch.

Enforcer and Uncle Jimmy discussing going into the skin trade to make some money. Exploiting young women to make a quick buck, Enforcer nudging my uncle to consider it. Telling him he had connections. Punch.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

I didn't know whose voice that was, and I didn't care. I just kept pummeling Enforcer until he lay still underneath me.

Someone picked me up under my arms and threw me into the van. I stared blankly at Enforcer's unmoving body lying next to me, my knuckles dripping blood onto the van floor as my cuts healed.

But my soul never would. That day had left a black stain on it.

Once we got back to the clubhouse, I didn't fight when Uncle Jimmy dragged me into the middle of the warehouse and yelled at me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! You're a little psychopath!"

"I'm not little—"

"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed, the scars on his face distorting. "Look what you did to Alan. Look!" He pointed at Enforcer's unmoving body. "You fucking killed him, you psycho! That's all you are! A little psycho. A sociopath. This is what happens when boys don't have a father. Your whore mother should have aborted you! I told her to after she mated with that no-good useless human! Your mother's a no-good slut!"

I reared my arm back and punched him in the mouth.

His third tooth on the right side was still missing to this day.

Enforcer didn't survive. I'd killed him. And it was Scar's fault.

Enforcer didn't deserve the wrath of my personal demons, but he deserved what I'd rained down on him. He wasn't a good guy, and I'd justify until the day I die that I saved lives by ending him.

Not that I'd meant to, but it was what it was.

But… I gained a little more respect that day. And a new nickname.

"Hey, this one's got the lights on."

I slunk out of my memory and looked at Trigger, who pointed at a warehouse with lights burning inside.

And a black van parked outside.

"Bingo," I whispered.