Page 17 of Not With the Eyes

That got him a quick, flirty little grin that Oberon absolutelyhated. Then he was out of sight, which made Oberon positively twitchy. He focused on deep breaths, scanning their surroundings, and praying fervently that he was worried about nothing.

Scones returned just a moment later, jumping to the ground as deftly as a cat. "They're waiting to ambush us. Probably too fucking late now, but let's try to get the hell out of here."

Oberon slid into the driver's seat as Scones took the passenger, slammed the door shut, and threw the car into gear.

They didn't get far before the door blew on Scone's storage unit and G.O.D. spec ops came pouring out, more of them abruptly filling the space in front of and behind the car. Oberon slammed the gas and kept going, which worked for getting them through the mess and the cheap gate, but unfortunately didn't last much longer after that. Just enough for him to get across the road and into the ditch.

He climbed out and ran into the woods, Scones right there with him. "Well, fuck."

"Bloody hell, this is even worse than I expected," Scones said. "We can't outrun all of them, not spec ops."

A terrible, sinking feeling settled in Oberon's gut. An ice-cold realization about how this situation was going to have to go if they stood any chance of coming out of the mess alive.

If these goons captured Scones, he was as good as dead. They might shoot him here. They might drag him back for Lachapelle to do the honors herself. Either way, Scones was a dead man walking the moment they caught him.

Oberon, on the other hand, was far too valuable to kill. No, they would vastly prefer to torture him for decades on end,learn all they could from him, find ways to recreate and misuse his abilities. If he was alive, he could be rescued.

Damn it, he never should have started liking the stupid bastard.

They ran across a creek and up a hill, where Scones led them west, instead of back down the hill, not stopping until they came to an outcropping of rocks. "All right, we've got a couple of minutes, let's take stock— What is that look on your face?" Scones scowled. "No, do not do what I know you're considering."

"Darling, I have never in my life listened to anyone but myself. You're a good fuck, but not that good."

Scones grabbed him, yanked him close. "I'm not letting you do something so fucking stupid."

"I do what I want," Oberon said. "Would you feel better if I gave you a big, dramatic kiss first?"

"No."

Oberon kissed him anyway, just for the thrill of pissing him off. "Don't take too long coming for me. The longer you take, the less impressive your thank you." He gave Scones a shove, then turned and ran back the way they'd come, shifting as he went, taking on Scone's appearance and making all the noise he possibly could.

Scones called his name, but thankfully his training took over after that, because he didn't chase after Oberon.

Oberon ran down the hill, deeper and deeper into the woods, leading the goons on a merry chase before they finally caught up to him in a canyon where he accidentally trapped himself.

She shifted again, this time into a form sure to unsettle everyone who saw him: a young Margaux Lachapelle. The way she'd looked back when she'd murdered Oberon's family.

They grabbed her up roughly, yanking and jerking, binding her hands and arms behind her, binding her ankles,before finally locking a collar around her throat that would keep her from using her powers. So she was stuck looking like this until she was able to shift again.

Not the form she'd choose to be stuck in, not by a long shot, but it would unsettle everyone else and piss off Lachapelle, and that counted for something.

Scones would probably laugh and be utterly horrified at the same time.

"Team Bravo to Base, we've secured Target 2. Repeat, Team Bravo has secured Target 2. Returning to Base."

"Copy that, Team Bravo. Any sign of Target 1?"

"Negative, sweeps out."

"Copy that. Base over and out."

Oberon said nothing as she was thrown over the shoulders of a particularly large goon and hauled back through the woods. After a few minutes, some more guards came roaring up on four-wheelers, and then they were zipping through the woods at a speed best described as 'abjectly stupid'. If this was how she died, she was haunting every last fucking one of them.

Thankfully, it didn't come to that, and they returned to the road just minutes later. A transport truck awaited her, and Oberon went without protest as she was searched, stripped to her boxers and undershirt, and finally loaded into a glorified fish tank with bars on the outside of the unbreakable glass for good measure. At least they'd taken the handcuffs off.

There was a place for her to sit and strap in, which was nice, because she really didn't want to be bounced around a glass cube while the assholes driving hit every pothole they could.

How long she sat there, she didn't know, though it must have been at least an hour. Finally, the goons seemed to give up hope of catching Scones, which undid a knot in Oberon's stomach she hadn't even noticed was there until suddenly it was gone.

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