Chapter 19

19

" W here the hell did you learn how to do this?" I ask incredulously, clicking through the features of the new and improved surveillance system that Matty just put in front of me. I mentioned a few days ago that it'd been glitchy lately, and he offered to ‘play around' with some options to improve it if I sent him a copy of the current code. I sure as shit didn't expect him to whip up something like this , though.

Matty shrugs, smiling bashfully. "I've always been kinda good with computers."

I shake my head in disbelief, still marveling at the quality of work he did in such little time. "You've been holding out on us, kid," I remark. "This is genius level shit."

He rolls his eyes, dropping down onto the stool beside me at the kitchen island. "I probably would've gone into a career in IT or something, if I'd had any choice in it. But my only two options were the military or The Guild, so…" he trails off, shrugging again.

"Well I'm definitely impressed," I murmur, clicking between the feeds and finding crystal-clear video footage on each one. "This streaming quality is top notch. "

"Just had to play with the compression algorithm," he replies nonchalantly.

"You say that like it's easy."

"To me, it is."

I dart him a glance, shaking my head again. "Well shit, I would've put you to work sooner if I'd known your skills. You'll have to walk me through how you did this so I can take notes."

"Yeah, anytime," he agrees, sliding off his stool. He grabs both of our empty coffee mugs off the kitchen island, carrying them around to the counter on the other side. "Want a refill?" he asks as he sets them down, lifting the pot from the machine.

I glance up at him, nodding, then immediately refocus on my computer screen again, familiarizing myself with how to navigate the updated program. I might've been exaggerating slightly when I mentioned that the existing program had been glitchy. Truthfully, I'd been getting annoyed at how grainy the footage would turn after having it open for a while, since I'm still obsessively watching Luna in her cell around the clock. Even more now, after her escape attempt.

"How you usually like it?" Matty asks, and I flicker my gaze up to him again as he lifts my coffee cup, nodding to indicate the liquor cabinet.

"Nah, just the coffee," I mutter discontentedly.

I'm aiming to stay sober this morning, and it's not a pleasant experience. My head is fucking pounding. According to WebMD, having a severe, persistent headache like this probably means that I'm dying of a brain tumor or something and should seek immediate care. If that's true, then it's probably too late for me already- I should just leave all this behind and go somewhere to get wasted and try to enjoy the days I have left- but my dad asked to have a meeting this morning, and I need to keep a clear head for it.

Well, as clear as it can be with this constant throbbing in my skull.

Matty brings my fresh cup of coffee over, setting it down beside me as he leans in and drops his voice low. "Hey, just a heads up, apparently Griff has been complaining about you to some of the other guys. Says you're on a power trip."

I snap my laptop shut and push up from my stool. "He can say whatever the fuck he wants, so long as he keeps in line," I grumble. With a nod to Matty, I slide my computer under my arm, pick up the mug, and head out of the kitchen and down the hall to the office at the front of the cabin.

Most of The Guild's safehouses have an office, though we rarely use them for anything other than the occasional meeting. I enter to find my father sitting behind the desk with his feet kicked up on the wooden surface, busy on his phone. Come to think of it, he's been on his phone more often than not lately, and something about it doesn't sit quite right with me. It feels like he's hiding something.

Dad doesn't even look up as he nods to the seat across from him, and I sink down into the soft leather-upholstered chair, watching as he finishes typing something on his phone before he places it face-down on the desk in front of him and turns his attention to me. "Is there something you forgot to mention when we caught up on business last night?"

I fight back a wince, keeping my expression neutral. It was only a matter of time before he found out about Luna's prison break, but I probably should've been the one to tell him. The benefit of hindsight, I guess.

"If you're referring to the Luna's little escape attempt, I had it handled," I say nonchalantly, leaning back in my chair and kicking up an ankle to rest on my opposite knee.

He frowns in disapproval. "Why didn't you follow protocol and bring backup?"

"I made a judgment call," I state calmly. "I did what I thought was best at the time, and it was the right play. The situation was contained. "

"You're damn lucky it was," he grumbles.

"Well we could use a little luck right about now, couldn't we?" I ask, arching a brow. "Where are those reinforcements we were promised, anyways?"

Dad's frown deepens as he drags his feet off the top of the desk, his boots landing on the floor with a thud. "They'll be here by the end of the week. Then we'll get everything in order for our next move, brief the troops, and send the Luna home."

I clench my jaw, my gut twisting as I begin drumming my fingers against the armrest of my chair.

‘Sending her home' isn't nearly as innocuous as it sounds. Whenever The Guild ‘sends a captive home', it's to deliver a message. A taunt to draw out their pack, pinned to their corpse.

His gaze flickers down to my hand, then back up to meet mine. "Something wrong with that?" my father questions, holding eye contact and arching a dark brow.

I cease the movement of my fingers on the armrest, lifting my hand to press them to my temple as my headache sharply intensifies, the beast of my anger rattling the mental cage I built for it. "No, I figured as much," I mutter, massaging my temple with one hand and picking at a stray thread on the hem of my t-shirt with the other. "Just didn't realize we were already at that point. You haven't exactly been keeping me well-briefed lately on our strategy."

"You haven't been around much."

"I'm always here," I fire back, my tone laced with irritation as my composure starts to slip. "You've had plenty of opportunities to bring me up to speed."

He stares into my eyes intently. "Not when you were sober."

I stare back at him, grinding my molars. Speaking of being sober, it's a good thing I came into this meeting that way, or I wouldn't be nearly as calm as I am right now. Or at least as calm as I appear. Internally, I'm raging, and if my inhibitions were lowered by alcohol, I'd pop off and prove his point right about now.

Dad pushes back in his chair with a sigh. "This has always been the plan, Cameron. We'll go over it in further detail when our backup arrives, but don't act surprised that your little pet is being put down."

"That's not what this is about," I grumble, staring at my lap as I curl and uncurl my fist.

"Then what is it about?" he implores.

I look back up at him sharply. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you've been hiding things lately."

He blows out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Like I said, we'll go over the full plan when all the pieces are in place. I don't want to get ahead of ourselves, so for now, I'm keeping it close to my chest. Just trust me that what I'm working on is big play, and one that'll solve our problems in this region once and for all."

I watch him for a long moment, chewing on his words. He's all but admitted that he's hiding key information from me, but Jonathan Knox isn't one to change his mind once he sets it on something. Despite the fact that none of this sits right with me, I give him a jerky nod, begrudgingly agreeing to let the subject drop.

Dad breathes out a relieved sigh, his expression softening. "It's good to see you sober," he remarks.

"Will you knock that shit off?" I mutter, rolling my eyes and turning to glance out the window at the thick forest beyond.

"I'm trying to tell you I'm proud of you, son," he says, his voice so sincere that it entices me to swing my gaze around to meet his again. "I know things have been a little... strained between us lately, but emotions have run high since we lost our men. Once we can leave this area and put it all behind us, things will go back to normal again, you'll see."

As normal as they can be without Ben .

"But for your part, I need you to find out what kind of numbers we're up against with the Luna's pack," he continues. "It's the only way to adequately prepare so we don't repeat our past mistakes."

He gives me a pointed look and I swallow thickly, nodding. "I'll get it done."

Dad pushes up from his chair, signaling the end of our meeting, and I barely spare him another glance before leaving the office and heading to my room. It's dark when I enter, the curtains drawn tight like usual, and even though I eye the vodka bottle resting atop Ben's old dresser, I don't pick it up.

Instead, I flop down on my bed and power up my laptop, settling in to watch my beastie for a while on the new and improved camera feed. And as I watch her go through the motions of her morning workout routine, I can't help but wonder how many days of watching her I've actually got left.

The rest of the day passes in an uneventful blur. I go down to the cells to deliver Luna's meals, but I don't stick around to chat, even though I know I need to press her for information. I'm just not in the mood to speed along her demise, I guess. Deep down, I always knew things would end this way, but I guess I never considered how twisted up I might feel about it. I never spent any time around our other prisoners. Never got to know them, as I have her. And now I have no clue how to feel.

Well, that's not completely true. I know how I'm supposed to feel. As a soldier, I'm supposed to be ruthlessly focused on the objective, but as a human being, it just feels wrong. It shouldn't. I should want revenge for Ben. But it fucking does .

Rather than my usual half bottle of whiskey, I only indulge in a few beers as I watch Luna pace her cell from the surveillance feed. In fact, I've been slowing down on the booze for the past several nights now. Guess I've traded one vice for another. Rather than poisoning my body with whiskey each night, I'm poisoning my mind with her .

Since it doesn't look like she's going to be sleeping anytime soon, I decide to head downstairs to check up on my ward. Nothing wrong with a little late-night interrogation, right? I've been putting it off all damn day, but it's past time to get my head back in the game.

I leave the lights off, the windows in the cells casting ample light to see by as I navigate my way down the stairs and toward Luna's cell. She stops her pacing when she sees me coming, eyeing me warily as I approach.

"What are you doing here?" she asks suspiciously.

I shrug a shoulder. "Just came to chat."

"Chat?" she repeats, lifting a brow dubiously.

"Sure, why not?" I grab the metal folding chair that's positioned near the wall opposite her cell, the legs scraping against the concrete as I drag it over to the bars. I flop down onto it unceremoniously and she keeps her eyes trained on mine as she backs toward her cot, lowering herself down to sit on the edge.

"No beers this time?" she asks, flipping her long hair over a shoulder. It looks a whole lot better now that she's been able to brush it and put it up for her workouts.

"Wasn't thirsty," I reply coolly.

She tilts her head, squinting at me. "Turning over a new leaf?"

"Just wasn't in the mood."

Luna stares at me for a long moment, and I can practically see her wheels turning. Captivity definitely doesn't suit her. She's becoming more and more volatile the longer she's locked up, and she's to the point where she's getting desperate for a way out of here. Maybe even desperate enough to give up what we need .

"What do you want from me, Cam?" she finally sighs, her voice thick with exasperation. "If it's information you're after, you're never going to get it. I won't betray the people I love."

"Not even to save yourself?" I scoff.

She leans forward, pinning me with a glare. "Especially not to save myself."

I shake my head with a sigh. I can't help her if she won't help herself. And even if she does, I probably can't help her anyways.

Fuck, I shouldn't even be entertaining that thought.

"I don't get why you're even doing this," she mumbles, her brows furrowing until a little crease forms between them. "Why go after shifters in the first place?"

"To rid the world of monsters," I say bluntly, reciting The Guild's mission statement exactly as it's been ingrained into me. "We're the heroes. The good guys."

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" she snaps, turning her glare on me once more. "I'm one of those monsters, aren't I?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I stare back at her, considering. Then I remember that looks are deceiving, and she's using hers to manipulate me. "Yeah, you are," I agree.

She throws her body backwards onto the cot with an exasperated sigh, and we're both eaten up by the silence that ensues. It finally abates with the creaking of the cot as she rolls onto her side, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she glances over at me again.

"You wanna know the truth, Cam?" she asks without the thick layer of sarcasm her commentary normally carries. "The truth is, you want me to be a monster, because that's what fits your narrative. I'm not, though. I'm just a girl. I've got parents that love me, a brother I adore, friends and colleagues and lots of people I want to get back to. Good people. People who'll miss me if I never make it home."

I snort a wry laugh. "Werewolves, you mean. "

She pushes up on an elbow, staring me down. "We're people , Cam. Whether you want to believe that or not. And we're not out to hurt anyone, we just want to be left alone."

"Not out to hurt anyone?" I growl, shifting forward in my chair. "What about my people? You murdered them on the night of the full moon."

Luna bolts up, throwing her hands in the air.

"Because they attacked us !" she exclaims, her whiskey-brown eyes wide and wild. "Can you honestly say you wouldn't do the same if you were in that situation?!"

I lean back with a scowl, drumming my fingers on the top of my thigh.

I know damn well that she's just trying to get in my head, but fuck if it isn't working. Every day, I'm having more trouble separating what she is from who she is.

Fuck, in some ways, I admire her. She's smart and strong-willed, disciplined and calculating. Not to mention the way she knows exactly who she is and completely owns it. The girl's a damn force to be reckoned with, and I've never been so drawn to someone, even if she is the enemy.

It's a fucking problem. A weakness. Am I really so easily swayed that I'll just forget what I've been trained to believe my whole life and let what happened to Ben slide?

But even as I look at her, watching her lashes fan over her cheeks as she blinks, the subtle rise and fall of her chest with her breathing, I don't see a murderous beast. I just see a sad girl who just wants to go home. And it's fucking with my head.

"I gotta go," I grumble, pushing up from the chair and kicking it away from the bars of the cell. Luna flinches at the sound, blinking at me as I turn around and start for the stairs.

Now isn't the time for flimsy loyalty or second-guessing. Maybe my dad's right. Maybe once we conclude our business here and move on, everything will go back to normal again.

Or maybe now that I've met her , it never will.