Page 24 of Map of Pain
The van hit a pothole that sent them all lurchingsideways. Nick’s knuckles whitened as he dug into his knee, but his face remained blank.
«DMV should have never given her a license,»Luka said to Matoskah, his movements casual, trying to create some sense of normalcy.
Matoskah’s lips twitched—the closest thing to a smile Luka had seen from him in weeks.«Then she’d just drive without one.»
Another pothole jolted them, somehow worse than the first.
«Does she aim for them?»Luka asked, eyebrows raised.
Matoskah shrugged.«She says it keeps passengers alert.»
The easy exchange felt good, familiar. They’d always been comfortable with silence between them, no need to fill space with unnecessary words. Unlike Jae, who chatteredconstantly, Matoskah understood the value of quiet. It made their friendship easy, predictable in the best way. That he was helping now, when he could havesimplywalked away, meant more than Luka could express.
***
Luka watched Nick as they entered the old ranch house from the garage: his eyes swept the space with mechanical precision while his body held itself in careful, controlled lines. But he didn’t curl inward, didn’t make himself small. Some part of him was still fighting to surface.
The old farmhouse welcomed them with the musty embrace of long abandonment. Dust danced in thin shafts of morning light filtering through boarded windows. The living room sprawled before them with its faded floral wallpaper peeling at the seams, sagging furniture draped in yellowed sheets, and floors that creaked with every step. Marcusestablished this safe house years ago, but it felt untouched by time, preserved in a state of permanent disuse.
«This way,»Luka said, not expecting a response but offering the gestureanyway. He guided Nick through the dining room and into the kitchen where a small breakfast nook tucked into the corner caught his attention. The space felt right—a built-in bench seat surrounded by walls on two sides, a small table creating a barrier on the third. It offered both protection and visibility.
Nick slid onto the bench without prompting, his back pressingfirmlyagainst the corner where the walls met. His gaze fixed on the table’s surface, but his hand remained carefully positioned: visible, non-threatening, waiting for direction that wouldn’t come.
Luka hesitated. He needed to speak with Ophelia before she did anything impulsive—like calling Marcusimmediately—but leaving Nick alone in this fractured state felt like abandonment when the man seemed so vulnerable.
Luka found a notepad in a kitchen drawer, its pages yellowed with age. He wrotequickly:‘I’ll be back in 5 minutes. Keep breathing. You’re safe here. Count the breaths if it helps.’
He placed the note in Nick’s line of sight, waiting until Nick’s eyes focused on the paper before stepping away. The hunter didn’t acknowledge the message beyond that momentary glance, but Luka caught the almost imperceptible straightening of his shoulders as some part of him registered the promise.
As Luka moved toward the garage, his beast stirred, reluctant to leave Nick even for a moment.Protect,it insisted.Stay.
Luka agreed, but Ophelia’s silence during the drive had been ominous. He needed to manage this situation before it spiraled beyond his control.
The garage felt different when Luka stepped back inside—charged with Ophelia’s particular brand of restless energy. She stood beside the van, checking her weapons with movements that looked casual but held an edge ofirritation. Herexplosion of brassy curls caught the dim light as she examined awickedlycurved blade, her doll-like face wearing its usual expression of perpetual boredom.
Matoskah leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching her. His pale blue eyes tracked her movements with the focus of a man calculating blast radiuses.
“So,”Ophelia said without looking up from her knife,“want to explain why you’ve gonecompletelyinsane?”
The question was delivered with her typical bluntness, but Luka caught the undercurrent of genuine concern. She wasn’t just being difficult—she was trying to understand if he’d lost his grip on realityentirely.
«Define insane,»Luka said, settling against the van.
“Oh, I don’t know.”Ophelia’s voice dripped with mock thoughtfulness as she tested the blade’s edge against her thumb.“Disappearing for days without telling anyone, harboring a Society hunter who tried to kill Marcus—oh, and happens to be Caleb’s brother—andapparentlystarting a war with said Society in a hospital parking garage.”She looked up then, large brown eyes glinting with what might have been amusement.“Did I miss anything?”
«He’s not Society anymore,»Luka insisted.«They were hunting him too.»
“Right.”Ophelia sheathed the knife.“Because shooting your handler in the head is such a great way to maintain employment.” She tilted her head, studying him.“The real question is why do you care what happens to him?”
The directness of it caught Luka off guard. Because Nick needed him? Because his beast claimed the broken hunter as theirs? Because watching someonesystematicallydestroy themselves felt too familiar?
«It’s complicated.»
“Bullshit.”Her laugh held no humor.“Everything’s complicated. Try again.”
Matoskah shifteduncomfortably, drawing their attention. When Ophelia raised an eyebrow at him, he spokequietly.“The hunter’s mind is... fractured.Badly.”
“Fractured how?”Ophelia’s voice sharpened with interest.
