Page 42 of Psycho Pack

He shakes his head, hands moving in halting signs.

Monster.

Dangerous.

Should kill me.

"No." I grip his shoulder, waiting until he meets my eyes. "You're not a monster. You're my brother. And I'm not giving up on you."

He just keeps staring at me.

I pull him into a careful one-armed hug, mindful of his injuries and what he's done every other time I've touched him. His huge frame quakes against me and he stiffens up like it's taking everything in his power to not shove me off him, but he holds still, frozen in my arms.

I hold him until the shaking stops, until his breathing evens out. "We'll figure this out," I promise. "Okay?"

He pulls back enough to sign with trembling hands.

Why?

"Because that's what brothers do." I stand, offering him my hand. "Now come on. Let's get you cleaned up before those wounds get infected."

He stares at my outstretched hand for a long moment. Then, slowly, he takes it. I help haul his massive frame upright, supporting him as we start the long walk back to the house.

One step at a time.

Chapter

Eight

IVY

The iron rods in the Knight's back carve deep gouges into the snow as we drag him out of the tunnels and into the deepening snow beyond the facility. His black blood stains the pristine white like ink. Steam rises from his massive body despite the freezing mountain air biting through my thin hospital gown.

Behind us, another section of the facility caves in with a thunderous crash. The destruction chases us into the courtyard, concrete and steel groaning as the building tears itself apart.

"Transport!" Whiskey bellows over the chaos. "Big enough for all of us!"

He sprints toward a massive military vehicle, its engine still idling. The rest of the pack fans out, providing cover as guards open fire from the remaining sections of the facility. Bullets kick up sprays of snow around us.

Wraith and Thane heave on the chains, dragging the Knight's bleeding form toward the transport. His iron mask scrapes against the frozen ground, blue eye-slits flickering weakly. A hollow growl echoes from behind the metal as they manhandle him into the cargo area.

I stay close, one hand pressed against his mechanical arm as it sparks and twitches, but he remains docile under my touch. Plague appears with an armful of stolen medical supplies, already assessing the Knight's wounds with clinical efficiency.

"Keep him calm," he orders, not looking up as he cuts away torn flesh around where we ripped out the iron rods. "I need to stop this bleeding."

A rifle cracks from somewhere above. One of the guards drops, a neat hole appearing between his eyes. Valek perches in the back of the transport like a drunk gargoyle, picking off targets with terrifying accuracy despite still being high as a kite.

"Ivy," he slurs, reloading with fluid grace. "Your hair looks like blood in the snow. So pretty."

"Focus on shooting, asshole," I snap back.

He giggles and drops another guard.

Whiskey slams the transport into gear, engine roaring. "Hold onto something!"

We lurch forward as he rams through a security barrier. Guards dive out of the way as we crash through the gate. Bullets ping off the armored sides. The transport fishtails on the icy mountain road, but we make it. Behind us, engines snarl to life as pursuit vehicles give chase.

Wraith's massive body curls around me, absorbing any hits that might strike me. His blood mingles with the Knight's on the floor of the transport. I want to tell him to protect himself, but I know it's useless. He'll die before he lets anything happen to me.

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