Page 58 of Revenge of the Blood Pack

“Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll go slow. We’ll stick together.” I keep moving, sticking to the road we were on, knowing that eventually it’ll take us to the center of the town. We have… maybe ten more minutes, and then we’ll find the source of all of this trouble.

“They’re ghosts,” Braxton says, and now the panic in his voice has turned to dread.

“There aren’t any ghosts,” I call over my shoulder, then look back, before remembering that we’d have to be nose-to-nose to see each other.

“And what if they attack us in this? We won’t even see them coming.” Max’s voice is a low growl.

“We’re okay. We’ll smell them before we see them. It’s just the fog playing with your head,” I reassure them. I hesitate, then keep going.

The blood pools and splatters are still lighting through the fog, but nothing like they were before. I just tell myself to put one foot in front of the other. To keep my steps quiet on the cobbled road. To keep breathing in the scents around me, so I know when we’ve reached my pack member before they see us.

If they can see us through all of this.

It’s another few minutes of walking, although I’m not sure how much, when I freeze. The smell of blood has deepened. The coppery scent is so strong that I actually gag a little, but it’s not just blood. It’s the scent of dead bodies.

“I think we’ve reached him,” I whisper.

But there’s no answer.

“Max? Braxton?” I look behind me. Nothing stirs.

I retreat a few steps trying to pick up their scents and find nothing. No trace of them. I have to speak quietly or I’ll give myself away to our enemies, but I call for them, search for them for a few minutes, but stop myself from going too far. From leaving the road. I feel like one of those people in movies where if they leave the path they’ll never be seen again. But where the hell are Max and Braxton?

Finally, I remember my walkie-talkie and try calling their names over it.

Still no answer.

A lump forms in my throat. Something had to have happened to them. They wouldn’t have just left me here alone to face a dangerous person. Even if I was a total ass to them before.

If something happens to them…No, I can’t think about that. I need to retrace my steps and reach the center of town, the place with the bodies and blood. If I can get there and find my packmember, I can stop all of this. Hopefully before the two stubborn brothers are hurt.

Turning back around, I retrace my steps, scenting the blood and bodies, but pushing forward anyway. Always moving forward until my foot hits something. I kneel down and discover that I’ve stepped on a wrist. A dead body from the smell of it. For one second I’m afraid it might be Max or Braxton, but then I see a bright yellow sleeve and breathe a sigh of relief.

Dead bodies are never good, but at least it’s not my men.

I step around it and keep going. The further I go the more the fog seems to clear until I can see a short distance in front of me. Enough to step around the dozens and dozens of bodies littering the ground. There are still blood splatters everywhere, still bloody pools, but the bodies I come across seem to have been drained. Which is something.Isn’t it?

And then I freeze as I hear the sound of bones cracking ahead of me. And it has to be bones, I know it deep inside. I know it by the chill that rolls up my spine.

Inching forward I move toward the sound, until I findit. Until I find the…thing.

It’s turned away from me, but it looks like something out of a horror movie. If it was once a man, it isn’t any longer. It’s turned an oily black color marbled with green veins. Big… tentacles are growing out of its naked back, and the tentacles move like they’re living things. It’s crouched over a body on the ground, and it feeds on the person’s stomach like some kind of wild animal.

I lift a hand, feeling the magic inside of me whispering. Begging to be released. I think I could kill this thing right now. End its miserable life and not have to fight something that is probably infinitely more powerful than I am.

And yet, I drop my hand.

“Blood Pack?” I whisper.

It freezes but doesn’t turn to look at me.

“I’m Asha of the Blood Pack. I was there, in the cells, along with you. I know what they did to you, because they did it to me too. And I’m here to help you. To get you out of this.”

“Aa-sha.” The word comes from it, almost foreign, like it’s never heard my name before, and I’m beginning to wonder if I made a terrible mistake.

“Y-yes, it’s me. I had a brother, Simon, and a sister, Isabella. My mom was… she was a shifter and a witch. Do you remember me? Can you tell me your name?” I don’t know what I’m saying or doing.Maybe saying my name was a mistake after what I did. Maybe it’ll only piss him off.

And then, it turns slowly toward me, so slowly that it reminds me of some kind of alien-like animal.

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