Page 89 of Psycho Pack

We all watch him with bated breath, waiting for him to keel over. But after a moment, he just smacks his lips appreciatively."Damn, that's good. Spicy as hell, though. Not sure I'd put cardamom in wine, but it works."

His casual attitude seems to break some of the tension. Valek saunters over to inspect the spread, lifting lids and sniffing experimentally. "Well, well… it seems our gracious hosts have excellent taste."

One by one, the others begin to relax slightly. I settle into one of the plush cushioned chairs at the table and Wraith sits beside me, always my shadow. I'm still marveling at the luxury surrounding us as I pick up a warm, buttery croissant stuffed with bright red jam. I smell it suspiciously. It smells sweet, like some kind of fruit I've never had. There are tiny black specks in it and I pick one out to crunch it between my fingers. A seed?

I don't trust it.

Wraith lets out a soft, questioning growl, signing to me.Hungry?

"I don't take food from strangers," I admit with a little laugh.

He hesitates, looking at the croissant in my hand, and motions for me to give it to him while signing again, instructing me not to look.

I tilt my head, frowning. "At what?" I ask.

He gestures pointedly to his scarred face.

Oh.

He must be self-conscious about the way he looks when he eats. My shoulders sag a little. "Wraith, I don't care about that," I murmur.

He signs again.I do. You should.

"Well, I don't."

He blows a puff of air through his nose and slides his palm down over my eyes, effectively blinding me. I try to pry his hand off, struggling. "Hey!" I hiss, but when he lets me push his hand away, a jagged bite of the croissant is missing. He holds it out to me, bobbing it gently, trying to entice me.

"What if the poison works better on me because I'm smaller than you?" I mutter, taking it from him and giving it another tentative sniff.

He shakes his head reassuringly.

I hesitate again before taking a nibble. All the tension bleeds out of me in spite of my natural wariness as the buttery, flaky pastry melts on my tongue and I can't help but let out a little moan of satisfaction as I take a bigger bite. The flavors explode in my mouth.

Shit, even if itispoisoned, it's worth it.

Silence falls over the compartment now that we've all warmed up and have had the chance to eat and drink. The gentle sway of the train as it begins to move does nothing to settle the unease churning in my stomach that's only slightly better now that I've had something to eat.

"I'll say one thing, these people are classy as fuck," Whiskey mutters.

Plague gives a derisive snort, staring out the window.

Valek hums, delicately sipping what looks like some kind of fruit nectar. His hand is shaking, so I'm guessing he's still pretty fucked up, but he looks more bright-eyed than he did before. "Indeed."

Whiskey shoots Valek a vicious glare. "And what the fuck areyouweighing in on?" he growls. "You're out of the damn pack."

Valek's lips curl into a slight smirk. "Oh, I am? News to me." He glances at Ivy. "Shouldn't it be up to ourrealleader?"

I arch an eyebrow at him. "What are you getting at?"

"Well," Valek says, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "We're all clearly at your beck and call. You have more sway over this pack of broken toys than the brute."

I just stare at him, not sure what to say to that.

"Hey," Whiskey interjects. "I'm the brute if anyone is."

"No, you're the dumbass," Valek replies in a clipped tone.

Whiskey's hand twitches like he's thinking about grabbing Valek by the throat and throwing him out of the damn train. I need to say something before all hell breaks loose.

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