Page 144 of Body and Soul

I could feel Keres stirring in the back of my mind, a predator scenting blood. He wanted out, wanted to tear Boone limb from fucking limb. But I couldn't let him take control. Not here, not now. This situation required finesse, not brute force.

Boone's weathered face was a mask of barely contained fury, but I could see the gears turning behind those steel-gray eyes. He was a survivor, had been through things that would break most men. But he'd never faced anything like Algerone before.

The air in the trailer grew thick and oppressive, charged with tension. Sweat beaded on my forehead, mingling with the blood that had splattered there during the scuffle. My arm throbbed in time with my racing pulse, a steady reminder of the stakes at play.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Boone said eventually. “In about ten seconds, I’m going to remove my knife from your spine. Then I’m going to have Church escort you back to your car and you’re going to leave like the good little monster you are. Or I can kill you, dismember your corpse and feed you to some farmer’s pigs. Your choice.”

He let off with the knife slightly and I took the opportunity to get free, spinning around on Boone. I held Leo’s knife out in front of me. There was no reasoning with Boone, but maybe Xion would listen. Maybe he loved Boone enough to save him. “This is a mistake, Xion. If you don’t come with me right now,Boone dies for nothing.” I held my hand out to him. “Come with me. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Xion stood, fists clenched. “The last time I willingly went somewhere with a Laskin he traded me like property,” Xion said. “You only want to do the same. I don’t give a fuck about whatever you were promised in exchange for me. I’m done being passed around for other people’s profit! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Xion…” I started. “You don’t understand. Just let me explain. This isn’t—”

Xion roared and surged forward to shove me toward the door. “Get out! And if I ever see you again, I’ll fucking kill you!”

I stared into Xion's eyes, searching for any sign of the little brother I once knew. But all I saw was rage and hatred, a feral wildness that sent a chill down my spine. Fuck. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all.

For a moment, I considered trying to overpower him, to knock him out and drag his unconscious ass out of this shithole. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was futile. Xion had made his choice. Trying to force him now would only drive him further away.

“Fine,” I growled, throwing down the knife. “But remember, Xion. You chose this.”

The cold air hit me like a slap to the face as I stepped outside, the metal stairs creaking ominously under my weight.

Church, the hulking brute who'd had the rifle on me earlier, escorted me back to my SUV. His meaty hand gripped my shoulder, shoving me roughly against the side. “If you ever step foot on this property again, Shepherd, you’re a dead man.”

“Message received,” I replied and adjusted my jacket before getting back in the SUV. Not that his threat mattered. He and everyone else in that junkyard would probably be dead before morning.

I drove out of the junkyard and pulled over about five miles down the road, getting out my phone. It was time to end this, one way or another.

The clock on themantle ticked away, each second feeling like an eternity. I paced the living room of the Laskin family house while Xander lounged on the couch.

“Chill, dude. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor.” He lifted the remote and flipped the channel.

I shot him a glare. “How can you be so calm? Shepherd's been gone for hours.”

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the TV. “Shepherd can handle himself. Besides, this isn't exactly his first rodeo.”

I wanted to scream. Didn't they understand how fucked up this whole situation was? Shepherd was out there, probably doing something stupidly dangerous, while we all sat around twiddling our thumbs.

Tatty emerged from the kitchen, a steaming mug in her hands. “Here, malýsh. Drink this. It will help calm your nerves.”

I accepted the mug, inhaling the rich aroma of spices and herbs. “Thanks, but I don't think tea is gonna cut it right now.”

She chuckled. “Oh, this is much stronger than tea, darling. An old family recipe.”

I took a cautious sip and nearly choked. It tasted like someone had taken every spice in the kitchen, mixed them with honey and vodka, then set the whole thing on fire. Cinnamon, cloves, and something I couldn't even identify exploded across my taste buds.

Nikita, who was apparently Tatty’s husband, roared with laughter and patted me on the back. “That will put some hair on your chest, eh?”

“What is it?” I sputtered, coughing.

Tatty's eyes sparkled with amusement. “Sbiten.”

“An old Russian drink,” supplied Yuri, who was Shepherd’s dad, smoothing down his gray hair. “Good for warming the blood and steadying the nerves.”

“That it is,” Nikita agreed and planted a kiss on Yuri’s cheek, making Yuri blush and roll his eyes.

I took another sip, more prepared this time. The burn was still intense, but now I could appreciate the complex flavors. The honey sweetness hit first, followed by a wave of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and something peppery that made my tongue tingle. Underneath it all was a hefty kick of alcohol that spread warmth through my chest.

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