Chapter 34: Ivy

Chapter

Thirty-Four

IVY

I adjust my rabbit mask so I can fucking see after Wraith's protective and sweet but frustrating gesture. My heart races from the sudden violence and the full knowledge the pack is in serious danger now, but there's no time to dwell on it as we burst into the room.

Purple light bathes everything in an otherworldly glow. The scene before us freezes like a twisted scene from a movie. Tired guards standing around a grimy-looking beta who must be Monty Filch bound in an elaborate chair, a female alpha in a leopard mask standing over him with her stiletto grinding into his crotch through his slacks. He's wearing a ruby pig mask and a pomegranate is stuffed in his mouth like a gag, oozing red juice all over his sweaty, bony body.

I suddenly like pomegranates a hell of a lot less.

In the corner, a beautiful omega wearing a pretty white cat mask sits in a high-backed velvet chair. Her flowing hair cascades like ribbons of moonlight down her shoulders and voluptuous body, matching the silvery-white silk that pools over her soft belly and thighs as she boredly files her nails.

Then her violet eyes lock on us.

Her scream pierces the air.

I watch as chaos erupts in slow motion. The guards' hands move toward their weapons, but my alphas are already in motion. They flow like water, like death given form.

Whiskey charges like a freight train, reaching the first guard before he can even draw his gun. Those massive hands wrap around the guard's head and twist . The crunch of his neck breaking sounds like splintering wood, drowned out by the muffled sound of the beta screaming into the pomegranate.

It's so high-pitched that at first, I think it's still the omega screaming, but she's already taken cover in the corner behind a sensual iron statue of a woman holding a whip in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. She's balled up and covering her head in terrified silence.

Thane and Wraith move in perfect sync, coordinating without a word. Thane goes low while Wraith goes high. The guard between them doesn't stand a chance. His gun comes free of its holster just as Thane sweeps his legs. Wraith's fist connects with his jaw as he falls, caving his face in, and I hear teeth scatter across the marble floor.

Valek is pure grace, all fluid motion as he slides between two guards. The carbon fiber garrote wire appears in his hands like magic. One guard drops, clutching his throat as blood sprays in an arc that catches the purple light like a macabre rainbow. The other tries to bring his weapon to bear, but Valek is already behind him, that deadly wire finding another throat.

The glass blade in Plague's gloved hand catches the light as he drives it into the base of a guard's skull. The man drops without a sound, dead before he hits the floor. Another guard rushes him, but Plague sidesteps, letting the man's momentum carry him straight onto a second blade.

The female alpha in the leopard mask abandons her "client" and charges at me with a snarl, stiletto heel raised like a weapon. But I'm not the helpless omega she thinks I am. I duck under her wild swing and drive my knee up into her stomach. As she doubles over, I grab her hair and slam her face into my rising knee. The crunch of her nose breaking through her mask is deeply satisfying.

She staggers back, blood streaming down her ruined mask. I advance on her, ready to finish this, but Wraith is suddenly there. His massive hand engulfs her throat, lifting her off her feet. She kicks and claws at his arm, snarling, but he might as well be made of stone. He slams her into the wall, knocking her out cold, and drops her unconscious body unceremoniously at my feet.

The whole thing takes less than thirty seconds.

Bodies litter the floor around us, blood slowly spreading across the marble in dark pools that look black in the purple light. The only sounds are our heavy breathing and the beta's continued muffled shrieking as he tries in vain to free himself from his restraints.

I don't even think he's stopped to breathe.

The omega is still huddled into the corner, trembling and holding her metal nail file like a dagger. Despite her obvious terror, she has fire in her eyes.

I stare at Monty as he continues shrieking into the pomegranate gag, his eyes wild with terror behind his pig mask. The beta's entire body shakes, the ropes creaking against the elaborate chair.

"Do you know who we are?" Plague asks smoothly, his voice carrying that clinical detachment that always makes him sound more dangerous.

When Monty just keeps screaming, Valek stalks forward and rips the pomegranate from his mouth with enough force that a tooth comes with it, clattering across the marble floor. Blood and fruit juice mingle on Monty's chin as he gasps for air.

"Please," he whimpers, eyes darting between our masks as his swollen lips quiver. "I'll give you anything you want. Money, information, power?—"

"He asked you a question," Thane barks, his deep voice echoing off the walls.

Recognition dawns in Monty's eyes.

"You're... you're the Ghosts," he chokes out.

"Very good," Valek purrs, tossing the bloodied pomegranate aside. "Now, who sent the kill order?"

Monty swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Isn't it obvious?" A bitter laugh escapes him. "General Hargrove."

The words hit like physical blows. I watch Thane and Wraith go rigid, though they try to hide it. My heart hurts for them both. We suspected this, of course, but having it confirmed... I wish I could comfort them, but there's no time for that now.

"Why?" Thane demands, his voice carefully controlled.

"You were captured," Monty says quickly, words tumbling out. "And when the lab exploded, which was certainly no coincidence, and you didn't report back immediately, he assumed you'd gone rogue. But..." He trails off, licking his bloody lips.

"But what?" Plague asks softly. The quiet menace in his voice casts a chill over the room.

"It was only a matter of time anyway," Monty mumbles, shrinking in on himself as he grates the words out.

"What do you mean by that?" Thane growls, taking a threatening step forward.

Monty's mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. He glances toward the door like he's calculating his chances of escape.

"Wrong answer," Whiskey snarls.

His boot connects with the chair's leg, splintering the wood. The entire thing collapses, sending Monty sprawling. The ropes fall away, but instead of trying to run, he just curls into a trembling ball on the floor.

"Please," he whimpers again. "I'll tell you everything. Just don't?—"

"Then start talking," Thane cuts him off.

I glance at the omega in the corner. She's stopped panicking, watching everything with sharp violet eyes. As her beta writhes and whimpers pathetically on the floor, her nose wrinkles slightly in… what? Shame? Distaste?

Monty keeps squirming on the floor, his pig mask askew. "The omega was supposed to break you," he chokes out. "You'd already been deemed a liability that's outlived your usefulness. You're all on a hair trigger. One wrong move and you'd tear each other apart. That's what we were counting on."

My blood runs cold. "What?"

"You were meant to be the catalyst," he continues, looking at me with something like pity in his eyes. "But you... you made them stronger instead. Made them more dangerous. Unpredictable. And an unpredictable weapon is useless."

"Who on the Council wanted us gone?" Thane demands, his voice tight with barely controlled rage.

Monty lets out a hysterical laugh that makes my skin crawl. "The Council? We're just puppets. Hargrove says jump, and they ask how high. That's the way it's been for a while now. Just… just don't kill the messenger," he croaks, watching them nervously. "I'm giving you what you want. The truth. That counts for something, right?"

Thane and Wraith just stare at him.

Movement catches my eye too late.

The omega lunges forward, wielding the heavy statue she was cowering behind moments ago. Before any of us can react, she swings it with surprising strength, catching Thane in the back of the head. He drops to one knee with a loud grunt, momentarily stunned.

Monty seizes his chance. He scrambles to his feet and bolts for the door while we're distracted, abandoning his omega without so much as a second glance. Valek and I both move to grab her as she winds up for another swing.

“Get your hands off me!" she hisses, twisting against us, still gripping the statue.

"After him!" Thane barks, already pushing himself up despite the blood trickling down his neck. "Don't let him?—"

Shouting and sirens erupt in the hallway, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Wraith positions himself in front of me, shielding me with his massive frame as the omega takes advantage of the chaos, driving her knee up into Valek's groin with brutal force. He doubles over with a grunt of pain.

"I… may need to revisit my policy on not killing omegas," he wheezes.

She swings at Plague next, wielding the statue like a mace. She catches him in the side of the head, knocking him back, then whirls around and clobbers Whiskey with it as he lunges for her, smashing one of the horns off his mask.

If she were an alpha, or even a beta, any one of them would have ended her by now, but it's clear they don't know what to do with being attacked by an omega.

Guess it's my turn.

I push past a bewildered Wraith and leap onto the omega's back, wrapping my arm around her throat from behind. She scratches at my arm, her manicured nails tearing up my skin even though she was just filing them—into fucking claws, apparently—but I hold firm, careful to apply pressure to the sides of her neck rather than her windpipe.

"Shh," I growl as she struggles. "Just go the fuck to sleep."

Her movements become more frantic, then gradually weaker. Finally, she goes limp in my arms. I lower her gently to the floor, checking her pulse to make sure she's just unconscious.

"Holy shit," Thane mutters, swaying slightly. "Good work, Ivy."

"What the fuck do we do with her?" Whiskey asks as he rubs his bleeding head with a grimace, glancing between the unconscious omega and the door where Monty disappeared.

Thane still looks kind of dazed, but his eyes are sharp as he surveys the situation. "We take her with us," he says firmly. "She's our only leverage now."

"Incoming!" Valek calls from his position by the door.

More guards pour into the room, drawn by the commotion. Wraith moves like lightning, intercepting the first wave before they can reach me. His massive fists make short work of two guards' faces, turning them into pulp, while Whiskey charges past him and barrels into the group like a battering ram.

Bones crack as bodies hit walls.

We move into the hall and Plague and Thane take flanking positions, their movements precise and lethal despite Thane's injury. The guards don't stand a chance against my alphas' coordinated assault, but there seem to be endless reinforcements streaming up the stairs.

Are we going to have to jump out the fucking window?

"Enough!"

Raven's voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. He stands at the end of the hallway, his golden avian mask catching the purple light. The remaining guards freeze mid-motion.

"You're tearing apart my establishment," he says, his tone deceptively calm as he scans the carnage around us. His carefully maintained composure cracks when he spots one particular guard crumpled against the wall.

"Marcus," he says flatly. "I liked Marcus. He made it a whole three months. A record, really."

"He was in our way," Valek says coldly.

Raven's hands curl into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. For a moment, I think he might attack us himself. But he takes a deep breath, smoothing what I can see of his features back into a practiced mask of indifference.

Was he even upset?

Or was he just… irritated?

"Because I'm in a sporting mood, you have ten seconds to leave my establishment," he says, his voice like ice. His eyes drift over the Ghosts, lingering on Whiskey, and his lips curve slightly. "Fifteen, for the cute alpha."

Whiskey stares at him. "What the fuck?"

"After that, I can't guarantee your safety," Raven continues, ignoring him. "But I can guarantee your capture."

"You never could guarantee shit," I snap back.

A sharp laugh escapes him. "Perhaps not. But I can guarantee your capture if you stay much longer. And before you all start bitching at me, I'm being incredibly generous after I warned you not to kill too many of my employees."

"He's right," Plague says tersely. "We need to move."

Wraith scoops up the unconscious omega, cradling her with surprising gentleness despite the situation. I grab the small jeweled purse she dropped, hoping it contains something useful. The others close in around us, creating a protective barrier as we move toward the emergency exit.

"Ten seconds," Raven calls after us in a singsong.

"Fuck you and your seconds, you fuckin' creep," Whiskey snarls back before punching out the window and hauling himself out onto the ledge. Cool wind rushes in, chasing away some of the sickly sweet scent in the air.

I glance back at Raven in time to catch his gaze locking onto the omega in Wraith's arms, and confusion flashes in his features.

"Who is that?" he asks, going still.

"None of your business," Whiskey snaps, hauling himself out onto the ledge and pushing out the rest of the glass.

"Wait!" Raven snarls, lunging forward from the end of the hall.

Whiskey is already out the window and the rest of us follow him, my alphas flanking me protectively, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Plague climbs through the window next, turning back to offer his hand, and Thane grabs my waist, lifting me up to him. Plague helps me through the window and pulls me against his side, taking the brunt of the impact as we drop down into the narrow, elevated walkway suspended between buildings.

The cool night air hits my face as the sirens continue blaring in the club, hurting my ears even as we're free. I hear three sets of boots dropping heavily onto the walkway behind us and turn back to confirm that Thane, Wraith and Valek are with us. Below us, the city sprawls out in a sea of neon and shadow.

"Which way?" Whiskey pants, blood still trickling down his face from where the omega hit him.

"There." Thane points to another fire escape on the adjacent building. "We can cut through and lose them in the tunnels."

The sound of pursuit echoes up the stairwell behind us. Heavy boots on metal, shouts getting closer. My heart pounds against my ribs as we race across the walkway, our clothes completely impractical for this kind of escape.

Wraith leads the way, still carrying the unconscious omega in his arms. Her silvery hair streams behind them in the wind, catching the neon glow from below.

The walkway creaks ominously under our combined weight. I try not to look down at the dizzying drop below us.

Focus on running.

On staying alive.

"Keep moving!" Plague shouts, drawing three glass blades from his jacket, the moonlight catching their curved edges. He flicks his wrist and they whistle through the air, each finding their targets.

A bullet whizzes past my ear, pinging off the railing. More shots follow, forcing us to duck and weave as we run.

"Don't shoot, you fucking idiots!" Raven yells from the window we came from. "You'll hurt the omegas!"

We reach the other building's fire escape just as the first wave of guards bursts onto the walkway behind us. Valek turns, that dangerous smile visible even with his mask askew. He pulls something from his jacket. A small device that gleams dully in the neon light.

"A gift from Surhiira," he purrs, then tosses it onto the walkway.

The explosion rocks the entire structure. Metal screams as the walkway tears free, taking several guards with it as it plummets toward the street below. The gap between buildings is now impossible to cross.

"That works," Whiskey says with a breathless laugh.

But we can't stop to celebrate. More shouts echo from inside the building we're now perched on. They're coming from both above and below.

"Down!" Thane barks, already leading us down the fire escape. "We need to get to street level!"

We descend as fast as we dare, the metal stairs rattling with each footfall. My midnight blue dress catches on something and tears, but I barely notice. The sound of pursuit is getting closer again.

"There's a service entrance to the tunnels two blocks east," Thane commands between breaths. "If we can make it there?—"

The patter of gunfire cuts him off. Bullets spark off the metal around us as shooters appear in the windows above. Guess they're not following Raven's orders. I duck instinctively, nearly losing my footing on the narrow stairs.

Wraith growls, shifting the omega over his shoulder so he can shield me better with his bulk. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake up.

We hit street level running. The crowds part around us like water, screams erupting as people spot the blood and weapons. Some try to grab us, either to help the authorities or score a bounty themselves, but my alphas plow through them like they're not even there.

"Left!" Plague shouts. "Next alley!"

We veer into a narrow passage between buildings, the neon glow replaced by deep shadows. The sounds of pursuit echo off the brick walls, getting closer.

"There!" Thane points to a heavy metal door set into the wall. "Plague, can you?—"

But Whiskey's already there, his shoulder slamming into the door with devastating force. The lock gives way with a shriek of metal and we tumble inside just as more bullets pepper the wall where we were standing.

The tunnel stretches before us, lit by flickering emergency lights.

"Which way?" I gasp, trying to catch my breath. The air is thick with the smell of mold and stagnant water.

"North," Plague says firmly. "There's a junction about half a mile ahead that connects to the old subway system. We can lose them in the maze and get back to our train."

We run, our footsteps echoing off the curved walls. The unconscious omega bounces limply on Wraith's shoulder, but he doesn't slow down. Behind us, I can hear our pursuers entering the tunnel.

"They're going to follow our trail," Valek says, his voice tight. "The water marks from our shoes?—"

"Then we'll have to be faster," Thane growls.

We push ourselves harder, ignoring the burning in our lungs. The junction Plague mentioned appears ahead. A nexus of tunnels branching off in different directions.

Thane takes the lead and we follow him through the twisting tunnels, my ruined dress dragging and soggy from the filthy water. Wraith offers to carry me, too, but I shake my head, murmuring a thanks. I'm too on edge. Every shadow makes me tense, expecting more guards to materialize at any moment.

But the sounds of pursuit have faded to nothing, replaced by our labored breathing and the splash of our footsteps. My heart still pounds against my ribs, adrenaline making everything sharper, clearer. The flickering emergency lights cast strange shadows on the curved walls, making the tunnels feel alive somehow.

Like we're moving through the belly of some giant beast.

"Almost there," Thane pants, his white mask gleaming in the dim light. "Two more turns and we'll reach the maintenance shaft that leads to the station."

Wraith growls in acknowledgment, the unconscious omega still draped over his massive shoulder. She hasn't stirred since I choked her out, but her steady breathing tells me she's alive. I'm still not sure if taking her was the right call, but she's our only leverage now that Monty escaped.

The maintenance shaft turns out to be a rusty ladder leading up to a heavy grate. Whiskey climbs first, those huge arms flexing as he pushes the grate aside. The sound of trains rumbling overhead filters down to us.

"Clear," he calls down quietly.

We emerge one by one into what looks like an abandoned storage room. Crates and old equipment gather dust in the corners, and the only light comes from a grimy window high up on one wall. The room smells like oil and rust and decades of neglect.

"The platform is just through there," Plague says, gesturing to a door partially hidden behind some shelving.

"What if it's not?" Valek mutters.

"Then we're fucked," Whiskey replies cheerfully.

But when we slip out onto the platform, trying to look casual despite our bloodstained formal wear, I spot the station and the familiar white and gold of the Surhiiran train. The sight of it fills me with relief so intense, I get dizzy.

Movement catches my eye. A group of station guards lurks in a shadowy alley across the tracks, their weapons gleaming dully in the station lights. My breath catches in my throat as I grab Thane's arm to warn him.

"I see them," he murmurs, his voice tight. "Just keep walking."

The guards watch us with obvious tension, but they don't move to interrogate us. Maybe it's the crisp white uniforms of the train's security detail that give them pause. Judging from what I know now, I'm sure they've heard stories about what happens to people who interfere with Surhiiran business.

Either way, they stay put as we board the train, though I can feel their eyes burning into us until the doors slide shut with a soft hiss.

The familiar opulent interior of the train car feels surreal after everything we've just been through. The plush seats and gleaming fixtures are exactly as we left them, like we're stepping back into another world entirely.

Holy shit.

We made it.

And while we may have lost Monty, we have his omega.