Page 37 of Pack of Crooks
Maybe this is a test, to see how easy it is for me to break before I’m even allowed inside. Straightening, I square my shoulders and Ezra moves back with every inch of space I take up, which isn’t a lot given that the top of my head barely clears his shoulders.
The scare tactics are a little dramatic. “Are you done, Ezra?”
His chuckle is distorted. “Clever omega.” The voice changer makes his words deep and rumbling, almost growled. What a predator would sound like if it were able to speak. He reaches for me quickly, and I hold my breath, heart giving a heavy thumpof excitement. Embarrassment immediately warms my cheeks when he grabs the door handle instead of me.
Oh.
Shaking my head, I step aside and watch him tug the door open. The screech of the hinges cuts through the night. “No lock?”
Ezra glances over his shoulder then disappears into the darkened corridor.
Cool, cool, cool. Follow the masked man into the dark building. This is definitely against every cardinal rule of surviving slasher movies. But Billy really was hot. Besides, this pack needs an omega for something. What, I don’t know, but they won’t kill me if they need me, right? Plus, they definitely want to fuck me, so maybe the boobs are working to my advantage tonight.
With that flimsy bit of faith, I step inside the building, exhaling as cool air washes over me. Thank god there’s air conditioning. I tug the heavy door closed, assuming that’s the general protocol, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from freaking out as the dark takes over my vision. Mom once left me in a closet when one of her friends came over and I had to watch through the slats as he. . . STOP! I shut that train of thought down and grind my teeth.
The crimson glow of Ezra’s mask—X eyes and a stitched up smile—is my beacon. Anticipation skips down my spine, and while I’m a little afraid, I’m strangely excited to follow him into the unknown. For some unexplainable reason, I trust that he’s not leading me into a trap. The closer I get to him, the more his fudgy scent curls around me. Just being near the beta sends my heart racing. Lust and fear tangle with one another inside of my body, making my hands tremble with the need to act. To run. To touch. Anything to amplify these feelings. It might sound weird,but I’ve never felt more alive. I do my best to hide my reaction as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at me.
I realize now that a bunny mask was definitely given to me to prove a point. Nothing could scream prey more than the innocent plastic ears and pink nose. “Are you going to let me in or do you like to play with your food before you eat it?”
Chuckling, he stares at me. “Are you scared?”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” he says, catching my arm and dragging me closer. He draws me against his body until our masks bump against one another.
Chest pounding, I try to get out of his hold, but not as hard as I should if I really wanted to escape. “Let me go.”
No, don’t. Take me, beta daddy.
“I don’t think you want me to,” he muses. A sudden glow fills the space behind him and curiosity has me glancing around his body. The numbers of an electric keypad are illuminated. “Are you scared?”
Is he trying to scare me? Do they want to run me off? Maybe he’s trying to see how easily I spook. That has to be it. Realizing that all of this is probably their way of hazing has me straightening. “A little,” I confess.
He hums in approval. “Do you want to leave?”
“Fuck no.”
The distorted chuckle crackles. “Good girl. Welcome to Resistentia.”
Roughly translated from Latin: the resistance.
Releasing me, Ezra turns and enters the rest of the code. The door beeps in approval and he pushes it open, stepping inside. Beams of light penetrate the dark hallway. I squint against the rush of brightness and follow the guy inside, hoping I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.
twelve
HAZEL
Five masked faces turn as I enter the room. My breath stutters in my chest as they stare at me. Or at least, I think they do. It’s hard to tell with the masks if they’re looking at me or Ezra. Maddox and Kill are standing in the middle of the cluster of people, mask colors swapped as well.
Another test?
Frowning, I take in computer after computer. Black painted walls lined with monitors. Standing desks. Sitting desks. A lounging area with a low to the ground sectional with dark green microfiber fabric and yellow pillows.
A person in a Ghost Face mask breaks away from the group and comes to join us. The mask is a little jarring given the conversation Milly and I had minutes ago. They’re wearing dark pants and a hoodie too. If this is the dress code, there’s no way I’m following it. I quickly shoot my gaze down their body, noting the feminine sway of her hips. A woman. Something like jealousy tightens my chest, but she stops a good six feet away from us when my scent clouds the space with sourness.
“Did you bring us a noob, Hawk?” the woman asks. At least she’s not using a voice changer.
Crap. I’ll have to remember to use their nicknames while we’re here. The two other masked figures standing near Maddox and Kill stand a bit back, showing deference.
