Chapter 15

15

G riff's face looks fucking terrible. His skin is a watercolor of purples and greens, the sclera of one of his eyes is pure red, and I can't tell whether he's scowling or if it's just the swelling in his jaw pinching his lips together like that. As soon as I enter the back of the house and spot him, he quickly snaps his gaze away like a skittish little rat. As he should . If he has any thoughts about touching something that doesn't belong to him again, one look at his mangled face in the mirror will remind him of the consequences for not keeping his damn hands to himself.

I stifle a smirk as I veer toward the kitchen, helping myself to some coffee and tipping a healthy pour of Jameson into my cup. This killer headache warrants some hair of the dog. You'd think I'd learn my lesson about hangovers at this point, but I need something to take the edge off, and if I start drinking again first thing in the morning, they're short lived. Except for this damn migraine that I haven't been able to shake for the better part of a week now.

Maybe I should get checked out by our medic. It can't be normal to go through every day feeling like someone's taking a chisel to the inside of your skull. He'd probably just blame it on the booze, though, and I'm not about to quit that habit anytime soon, so I guess I'll just have to endure. I'd rather deal with the physical pain than the mental anguish that comes with being sober. Alcohol dulls the ache in my soul.

"Morning, Knox," Matty greets as he strides into the kitchen, sidestepping past me to get to the fridge. He glances back at me as he pulls open the door. "Need the tray?"

"Yeah, just whenever you get to it," I reply, my voice still rough with sleep. I tossed and turned all damn night after that shit Luna pulled when I went down to visit her. Not that I was able to rest before that, which was why I ended up outside her cell in the first place. I'd already been watching her on the video feed, but I wanted to see the real thing. I wasn't even going to wake her, but since she was already up…

In hindsight, I should've just stayed the fuck in my room.

Raising my steaming mug to my lips, I recline back against the counter, sipping my spiked coffee while I watch Matty prepare Luna's breakfast.

"What time do you want to get together to go over the reports?" he asks casually as he picks up a bunch of grapes and starts plucking them off the stem.

"Whenever," I mumble, taking a big swig of coffee. It scalds my throat on the way down, though I'm not sure if it's the temperature of the beverage or the burn of the liquor. "I'll come find you when I'm done downstairs."

"Cool," he replies. "I updated your calendar this morning, set a meeting for the team leads at four today."

I arch a brow in his direction. "Who called the meeting?"

"I did," Dad provides as he strolls into the kitchen, coming up beside me to reach for the coffee pot. "Would've told you about it last night, but you weren't in any condition to discuss business."

My lips twist in a scowl as I watch him fill a coffee mug, his gaze flickering up to meet mine.

"Got a few minutes to chat this morning?" he asks, returning the pot to the coffee machine and wrapping his hand around his cup to lift it to his mouth.

"Later," I mumble, still irritated that he just took a jab at my sobriety. Or lack thereof. "Gotta go down to the basement."

Dad gives me a suspicious look as he tips back his cup and takes a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows and lowers it in front of him again. "You've been down there quite a bit lately."

"And?" I fire back, immediately on the defensive.

"What have you found out?"

I shrug a shoulder, taking another big gulp of my Irish coffee to buy myself time as I consider how to answer. "A few things, so far," I say vaguely after swallowing it down. "Still working on earning her trust."

He furrows his brow. "Why?"

"Because it's the only way I'll get answers."

Dad makes a scoffing sound in his throat, lifting his mug to his lips again. "I can think of other ways."

A surge of anger spears through me at his insinuation, and it takes more effort than usual to tamp it down. I know what ‘other ways' he's referring to, and I refuse to beat the information out of her. There's a possibility it'd be effective, but it's also fucking barbaric- our goal here is to eliminate the monsters in the world, not become them.

"Not with this one," I grumble, gritting my teeth against the urge to snap at him. My dad and I have always gotten along, but lately, things have become increasingly tense between the two of us. "You said you'd let me take point," I remind him.

"I know, and I am," he replies coolly. "I don't doubt you."

The hint of condescension in his tone makes my hackles raise. "No? Then what's this about?" I question, eyeing him up skeptically.

Dad heaves a sigh, shaking his head as he turns at the waist to set his coffee cup down on the counter. "Just be careful, son," he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. "They may look it, but they're not human. They'll manipulate you, if given the chance."

"You think I don't know that?" I growl, turning to drop my coffee cup in the sink. As good as it was going down, this whole conversation has left a foul taste in my mouth. I whip back around to face my dad, narrowing my eyes on him. "Just get to the point of what you want to say."

He presses his lips together in a tight line, giving me one of those stern father looks that only makes my blood boil hotter. "We've got nine new soldiers on their way, they should arrive right before the full moon. With thirty of us, we should be able to take down that pack up north within the next month, as long as you can extract the information we need about their weak spots."

I push off from the counter, turning away and grumbling, "I'll get it done," effectively ending the conversation and angling to get the hell out of here before he can start it again. Matty's still putting the finishing touches on preparing the tray, but I snatch it off the counter in front of him, pivoting to head for the basement.

After going through the motions of keying in the entry code and flipping on the lights, I descend the steps, finding Luna pacing her cell. She stops when she sees me, her lips parting as if about to speak. She must think better of it after she sees the unhinged look in my eyes, remaining silent as I stomp toward the door to her cage.

"Back up," I order gruffly, fumbling for the keys in the pocket of my jeans.

She shuffles further away from the door and I make quick work of unlocking it, opening it just far enough to drop the tray on the ground inside. As soon as I do, I swing it closed again, the loud clang reverberating in my skull.

I'd planned on spending some time down here this morning- maybe making her pay for the stunt she pulled last night by threatening that brother of hers she seems so fond of- but the last thing I need is my father thinking I'm too preoccupied with this assignment to fulfill my role as his second in command. I need to refocus on the mission at hand, which means I should go through the accounts and message boards and take care of business before resuming my games with this infuriating creature.

I lock up her cell, casting her a last cursory glance before turning on a heel and heading back upstairs. I even return the keys to the hook beside the door before keying in the code, sticking to protocol for the first time in days. God forbid my dad find them missing and question why I felt the need to hold onto them.

After emerging from the basement, I swing by my room to grab my laptop and head out onto the patio, figuring some fresh air might alleviate the pounding in my skull. Flopping down into one of the Adirondack chairs around the firepit, I flip open the lid of my laptop, drumming my fingers on the wooden armrest while it boots up.

The sound of the patio door opening behind me makes me dart a quick glance over my shoulder, and I'm relieved when I see that it's Matty coming outside rather than my old man. Clutching a mug of coffee in his hands, he carries it over to me, setting it on the arm of my chair. It's spiked how I like it- I can smell the whiskey.

"Figured you might want a refill," he murmurs, shuffling backwards and eyeing me warily, like I'm a live bomb dangerously close to detonation. "You alright?"

"Fine," I grumble, placing my hands on the keyboard of my laptop to type in my passcode. "Why?"

Matty shuffles his feet nervously. "Just, after that stuff with your dad… I mean, I know it's none of my business, but you can talk to me, if you want."

I glance up at him from my computer screen, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I regard him carefully .

Trust isn't something I take lightly. The only people in this world I've ever truly trusted are my parents and Ben, two of which are now dead. As much as I want to trust Matty, I still barely know the kid. He's only been around for a year, and it wasn't until recently that I even engaged in a meaningful conversation with him.

What are the chances that my dad put him up to getting close as a test of my allegiance?

I push that thought out of my head as quickly as it entered, reminding myself that I trust my father implicitly. Our core beliefs may not align as much as he wants them to, but that doesn't mean he'd try to go behind my back and sabotage me. He's even more distrustful than I am, so I'm all he's got.

"Have a seat," I say, gesturing to the chair across from me absently.

Matty's eyes light up and he quickly moves to comply while I drop my gaze back to my laptop screen, keying in a couple more passwords to pull up The Guild's accounts and the dark web message board. It hasn't seen a lot of action since we had to take it down and relaunch following a hack, but it's my job to check it for any tips, record them, and wipe it clean so that no one else can access the information.

"Anything of note in the reports?" I ask, not looking up from my screen. There's no reason I can't multitask.

"Delta is being briefed on strategy for a new mission, and Griff requested to be excused from training for the remainder of the week."

"No," I reply flatly, scrolling through the updated banking records. I glance up at Matty, narrowing my eyes as his first statement belatedly registers. "Delta's taking on a new mission?"

He stares back at me wide-eyed, jaw flapping as he struggles for words. "Uh, there weren't any specifics in the report, it just said they were going over strategic formations for a new assignment… "

I clench my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut to quell the rush of anger threatening to surge forward.

Don't shoot the fucking messenger, Cam.

Blinking my eyes open, I refocus on Matty. "Understood," I grit out. "Looks like I'll be having words with my old man about keeping me in the loop."

My laptop pings with a notification and I glance back down at the screen, seeing an alert from our surveillance system citing an abnormal increase in motion detected in cell one.

I know I shouldn't pull up the video feed- I'm in the middle of important Guild business, and I need to stop watching Luna like it's my fucking job- but I can't help myself. As soon as I see that damn notification, my fingers are moving on the mousepad to click into it, hands typing out the passcode to gain access to the surveillance system.

After a secondary delay that feels like a fucking eternity, the image of the basement cell floods my screen, and I blink at what I see.

Did I pull up the wrong feed?

Navigating to the list of live cameras, I verify that I'm indeed looking at the feed for cell one, where the Luna is being held. It's an image that I've looked at countless times, except now, there's one key thing missing.

Her.