Page 197 of Psycho Alphas: Part Two
There were still more branches of the Ring across state lines, but maybe we’d get to them eventually—Ace would need something to keep him occupied in the future.
We were supposed to be a functional pack now, so there was also no need for the Misfits to help over in our wing. It meant we acted a lot more like neighbours.
I had taken to making pack-sized meals—often with Thistle’s help. That meant Knox didn’t have to rely on the Misfits to avoid starving when he got hyperfixated on a task—which he and Ace really were when it came to the Ring hunts.
After dressing and getting a coffee, the absence of Thistle became… concerning.
Silence was abnormal—especially when I found only Ace in the ballroom armchair, laptop on his lap.
But the last time she’d vanished, I’d caught her trying to roast Poptarts by the fire outside with Bambi. The problem was wewere in the middle of a fire advisory, and they’d been at serious risk of starting a wildfire across the state of Nevada.
Finally, I caught the faint sound of music blasting from the west wing, and I followed it.
When I turned the corner, I almost ran into Bambi, who was squelching her way up the hallway. She was covered head to toe in paint so colourful she might have been vomited on by a neon rainbow, and was now tracking it down the whole wing.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Jesus, this would take an age to clean.
I spotted her pink bunny peeking out from one of those cat backpacks with the clear bubble-shaped window. The plushie was clean, though the backpack was as messy as her.
Bambi signedSorry, and then something I didn’t recognise. I was keeping up with their signing—barely—but all of us had realised pretty quick we were in trouble if we didn’t. The two of them crafted insane plans together that needed definite intervention.
When I frowned, Bambi spelled the word out for me.
“Sorryunc?” I asked. “What thehelldoes that mean?”
She just giggled and hurried off with her backpack, trailing neon paint prints behind her.
Bambi was arealoddball. I don’t know how Thistle had identified it in the midst of Bella’s party, but it had dawned on us all over the last few weeks just how much sense the claim made. They were eerily compatible.
I followed the footprints and crescendoing sound of rock music down the west wing hall until I got to the art room.
Ah.
Before me was chaos: buckets, spatters, and spills of the brightest paint I’d ever seen. Thistle was facing a wall—which was now a mural—and she was covered—absolutelycovered—in neon paint. She wore goggles, sweatpants, and a hoodie withrolled-up sleeves—none of which were black anymore—as she wiped a streak of bright green across the wall.
Bunny was in his own bubble-window cat backpack on one of the tables—all of which had been shoved to the edge of the room—and Knox was nodding his head to the music as he poured bright powder into a bucket. “More pink on the way—!” He cut off as he straightened, catching sight of me.
“A normal canvas just wasn’t cutting it?” I asked.
Thistle folded her arms. “Too small.”
I snorted. “Whatareyou painting?” The shapes werepossiblyfigures splashed across the wall.
“My family!” she said. “We’re doing the lines after. Right now, everyone gets to be colours!”
“I see that.”
I shot a glance at Knox, who’d sauntered over, looking pleased with himself. “I’m keeping our Omega distracted. Take note, since me and Ace are going to be gone for a while—or do you want her to burn down half of the state?”
I rolled my eyes. They’d caught a real lead when it came to the trafficking ring hunts.
That meant I was going to be on Thistle duty for the next little while: great for sex, terrifying for everything else—especially the tinderbox brushlands of Nevada.
“Wait—what the fuck is that?” I asked. I’d spotted a collection of photos pinned in the corner, and I saw myself staring back at me.
“This?” Thistle glanced at the paper, then tugged a strand of pink-painted hair from where it was sticking to her lip. “Oh! Bunny took me to the mall and they had pictures of you! I’m using them as references.”
