Page 39 of Pack of Crooks
Let me guess, something to do with six feet under?“I can take a guess,” I murmur instead.
His thumb brushes over my skin. “I really don’t want to kill you, so no lying, okay?”
So. . . this is a really bad idea. Join a murderous pack, it’ll be fine. You’ll be making money in no time. Oh by the way, the pack might kill you if you try to leave.Silence stretches between us. Kill’s fingers pulse on my neck and the beating of my heart matches the rhythm.
If this is some sort of hazing, they probably expect me to break at some point, but I’m made of stronger stuff. I press my lips together and peer at him through the bunny mask, waiting him out and ignoring the palpitations in my chest. Fear is nothing new to me, and with his hand around my throat, fear feels a whole lot likeknot me now, alpha.
Eventually, he nods and steps away, heading around the desk. “You’ll get paid once you complete the job. A million dollars once you do your part.”
Disappointment sits heavy on my chest. I had kind of hoped for an advance, but I guess they’re trying to ensure I won’t take their money and run. A million dollars is on the other side of this job.
Kill sighs. “Thereisone matter to settle before you get started.”
Expecting paperwork, I meander over to where he’s rifling around in a drawer. The moment I spot the hilt of a dagger, I freeze and take a step back—only to crash into a solid body. “What’s that for?”
Strong arms wrap around my middle. Thick. Big. Like a bear. That honey scent surrounds me. I breathe in, try to stifle my reaction, but I soften in Maddox’s embrace.Probably shouldn’t let the alpha who chased you out of their apartment cuddle you up.
Kill glances at me, his glowing mask hiding his reaction, but I can almost picture the smirk he’s wearing under his mask. “For the blood oath,” he says, as if I should already know this.
The blood WHAT now? Oh hell no. “You failed to mention that,” I say between gritted teeth. I can’t tell if they’re fucking with me or if I’ve agreed to join a cult.
Maddox’s hold tightens ever so slightly. I mean, I’d drink his Kool-Aid.Focus, Hazel. Right, what’s the proper reaction? Heart jack hammering? Shaky breaths? Kill flips the knife, the sharpened tip tumbles over the hilt a few times before he snatches it out of the air and swaggers over to me. My pulse speeds up and not for the reasons it should. Someone stamptoo stupid to liveon my forehead, because it’s me. I’m that bitch.
“Hold still, pretty thief,” Ezra practically purrs into my ear.
An intoxicating mix of fear—good to know I have some survival instincts left—and desire—well, there went those instincts—swirl inside of me. This pack gets off on intimidation.
The strange thing is, I kind of like it? Probably because I spent my entire life being tormented by Mom, sketchy drug dealers, and whoever was warming her bed. I’ve been chased down by cars, nearly drowned, and shoved inside a closet and locked in, left in the dark space overnight. Somewhere along the way, I learned how to stand in my fear and pretend like the threats didn’t bother me.
And apparently when it comes to a pack I’m attracted too, intimidation is registering as flirting. Kill walks toward me. Ezra’s hand shackles around my throat while Maddox holds me in place. A gasp tumbles past my lips and Ezra’s thumb traces over my racing pulse.So many hand necklaces, so little time.
There’s something seriously wrong with me.
“Don’t get scared of us now,Prey,” Kill taunts.
“I’m not scared.” An absolute lie, but with their scents caging me in, the fear isn’t telling me to run, it’s telling me to drop to my knees and beg for a knot.
“Mmm, so you like the danger?
“No.”
He chuckles. “Didn’t I tell you not to lie to me?” He shakes his head and holds up his gloved palm. “Give me your hand,” he murmurs.
Oh. Are they serious about the blood oath? I thought they were playing a game with me. I frown, but offer mine up. He latches on. The leather covering his fingers crinkles as he brings the knife to rest along my heart line. My pulse skips, and I suck in a sharp breath, bracing for pain. Ezra’s fingers clamp tighter, and Maddox’s arms hold me prone. Kill gently presses the cool metal into my skin. My heart pounds so hard I can feel each beats radiating throughout my body. In my thumbs and wrists. In my neck. Between my legs. Tension crackles between us and I watch the blade, eyes wide with curiosity.
Kill doesn’t move.
Anticipation trembles through me. I hate him for drawing the moment out. My gaze zips up to his mask. “Just do it already.”
A deep, rumbling laugh pours out of him, the sound edged with an animalistic growl. “There’s no blood oath.” He pulls the knife away and releases my hand.
All at once, they move away, leaving me with a strange sensation of falling. When my feet hit the metaphorical ground, I shiver at their absence, clutch my hand to my chest, and scowl at them. “You guys are demented.”
Ezra sighs, the voice box crackling. “I thought we did a good job of hiding it.”
Kill tosses the blade into the drawer. “You’ve officially passed orientation.” His mask focuses on me. “I’d apologize, but. . .” He approaches me again, reaching for me.
I want to resist, a smarter omega would, but I’m desperate for his touch. He drops his face to my throat, breathing in through his mask and groaning. Goosebumps sweep down my arms and my scent explodes. Whomp, there it is. Now they all know exactly how much I enjoyed that little show.
