Reaper

“Sawyer, what the fuck happened?”

Sawyer let out a growl of frustration as he places Forrest’s limp body on the pile of blankets in the corner of the warehouse. He was still breathing, but faintly. Sawyer had arrived just as he saw the Alphas scrambling away down the alley. Under normal circumstances, he would have pounced on the chance to attack but after seeing Forrest so broken on the ground, he decided, reluctantly, that his loyalties lie with the latter.

Lina flew to the boy, her long black hair outlining her frantic face. “Oh, Forrest, sweetie…”

She was, without a doubt, the maternal figure of the pack. Lina was notorious for her ability to nag them for everything, especially Simon. But she was the closest to having a soul – and her comrades were always thankful that someone was around to keep them all somewhat in line. It made Lina stand out from Saphira. Though the two were almost identical, their personalities couldn’t be more opposite.

“Where is Hunter?” Sawyer growled, straightening himself.

Simon stood in the doorway, watching Lina flutter about. “Left about a half hour ago. Hunting.”

Sawyer sighed and slumped down into a chair. He nodded to Simon in recognition, but chose not to say anything more.

Saphira stood back, her arms crossed over her chest. “Well? Care to elaborate?”

Sawyer sat in a chair with his head in his hands, thinking. “I found him in an alley about a mile away. Some Alphas were fleeing the scene – I couldn’t do much except bring him here.” He began to massage his temples, his mind trying desperately to think of anything else suspicious he might have seen.

Simon snorted. “Of course. No need to find out why he was beaten half to death.”

“Look, I was just doing the right thing-“

Saphira snarled. “What was he supposed to do, Simon? Let him die-“

“No! I just figured it might be beneficial if we-“

Before Simon could finish his statement, Lina stood up from where she had been crouched by Forrest’s head. “Shut up. All of you,” she roared.

The three of them blinked back at her, unaccustomed to hearing that tone come out of such a small, timid woman. But the ferocity in her sapphire eyes was warning enough not to mess with Lina, especially at the current moment. Though she was considered the more level-headed of the twins, her wrath was just as formidable as Saphira’s, if not worse.

Lina balled her tiny fists at her sides. “This is not about you, Sawyer. This is about Forrest. And right now, all we should be concerned about is his well-being. Am I clear?”

Simon nodded, and Sawyer let out a grunt. Saphira rolled her eyes, but Simon elbowed her. Satisfied, Lina bent down again to Forrest’s side, where the boy lay in the blankets.

After what seemed like hours of pacing on Sawyer’s part, he finally began to stir. He watched, from afar, as Forrest’s weak body began to stir, first in his eyelids. His large, brown eyes fluttered open, and then strained against the light that hung directly over his head. Lina gasped in surprise as Forrest lifted a hand to his forehead, wincing.

Forrest lifted his head slightly as he seemed to finally regain his consciousness. “What… Sawyer…”

Lina placed a hand gently on his shoulder and eased him back down onto the sheets. “Sh, Forrest, you need some rest.”

Suddenly, as if seized by a power outside of himself, Forrest slapped Lina’s hand away from him. Hurt, Lina crawled backwards, away from him, trying to put distance between them. Forrest sat up, his torso turned toward Sawyer, his face contorted with anger. Sawyer felt his body tense as the younger boy glared at him, his eyes burning.

“Isis did this,” he whispered, his voice so small and full of anger that Sawyer was taken aback. “She did this because of her.” Forrest’s voice shook as he spoke, like each syllable was a battle that needed to be won. The raw emotion, the anger, the sadness, that colored each of his words was unnerving, and it made everyone in the room unable to do anything but listen.

Sawyer was the first to pull himself together. “Isis? What does she have to do with this? She’s all the way on the other side of the city-“

Forrest’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth trembled as he spoke. “It’s that girl. She knows about the girl. And she’s coming for her.”

With that, the boy’s body collapsed onto the pillows behind him, suddenly devoid of the energy that had held him up. Lina quickly bent over him to keep him steady, a flurry of activity. Simon rushed over, too, to be of some kind of assistance. Forrest was passed out, cold, but still breathing.

Saphira turned her attention to him. “Sawyer…?”

Sawyer’s fists were balled at his sides, much like Lina’s had been a minute ago. He felt his heart rate rise as he began to process Forrest’s outburst. He could feel the gears in his head grinding, trying to make sense of what could be happening.

This was all a message. Sawyer’s jaw hardened. Isis sent her goons into the city to spy, to gather information – and then attacked Forrest to get her point across. That wasn’t like Isis, not in the slightest. She was very, very good at flying totally under the radar, never once detected by humans, because she had enough power over her Alphas that she didn’t need to. She would never blow her cover just to send a message, not if she didn’t think there was something worth the risk.

Which could only mean one thing. Isis knew.

Sawyer leapt up from his chair. “Charlotte is in trouble.”

Simon and Lina looked up curiously as Sawyer began to pace around the room, picking up things he would need. Saphira watched him and bit her lip, exchanging glances with her sister and Simon before finally giving in. She sighed, and picked up the car keys.

“How long has it been since you’ve Fed?” Saphira demanded of him quietly, trying to make it less conspicuous so as not to worry Lina any further.

Sawyer froze and glared at her, his eyes ablaze. “Since the subway.”

Saphira held out a hand to get him to stop moving. He was very angry now, his sharp jaw tensed and his green eyes wide with tension. “Sawyer, either you need to Feed, or I need to come with you to keep you under control. You’ve been stupid enough lately as it is.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, wrenching out of her grasp. He was about to retort something seething, before he paused for a moment. In a sense, she was right – he was getting a little out of control. His anger had built up so much in the last few days for god knows what reason. Well, Sawyer knew why – he was completely starved, and sharing that kiss with Charlie had only made him more aware of it. It was like giving a man dying of thirst a spoonful of water - not enough to help, only enough to remind him of what was absent.

He ran his hand through his black curls, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Fine. But let’s go, we don’t have much time before sunrise.”

As he made a motion to leave, Lina cleared her throat. “Sawyer, there’s something you should know first.”

He turned sharply to her, exasperated. “And that is?”

Lina bit her lip, unsure if she should continue. Her hand rested on Forrest’s forehead, palm extended, a glow radiating from it. Sawyer’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him that Lina was reading his mind. She was searching for the answers to the questions they had asked a few moments ago and could only wonder aloud about. She was searching for the context of Forrest’s attack.

“I-I think I see the girl,” Lina murmured, her eyes open but not seeing what was in front of her. “Forrest sensed it was her – he smelled it.” Sawyer grimaced at that. He was hesitant to realize that Forrest could so easily identify her because of his scent. “She’s… She’s leaving. With a boy. He says… Atlantic City.”

All at once, Sawyer’s veins flooded with hot jealousy. Surely Charlie wouldn’t just kiss him and then run off with some other man a few days later? Granted, he hadn’t exactly made a spectacular departure, but… did he really mean that little to her not to even bother saying goodbye? Nor the decency to tell him that he was being led on?

Saphira seemed to notice the tension rolling off of Sawyer in waves. “Well, at least we know where to look.”

With that, she gripped his elbow tightly and pulled him out into the night.



“Another margarita, por favor,” Jesse slurred to the bartender, a scantily-clad girl about my age with an affinity for tattoos.

I wrinkled my nose. Of course, I wasn’t one to judge, being a bartender myself, but I at least knew I didn’t fit in with the stereotype. It was just a job for me to hold down until something better came along. Hopefully.

The girl nodded and left to prepare his drink.

The world was slightly tilted, and just a little blurry on the edges. I could barely stand up without any assistance. I was just glad that I had left my money in our hotel room, whichever one that was, because Jesse had already had to pull me away from the slot machines about three times since we had arrived last night.

I swayed slightly on the bar stool, trying to get a better look at my surroundings. Jesse noticed, miraculously, and put out a hand to steady me, nearly causing his own demise. Once we had both regained our balance – as much as our intoxicated minds could handle – we launched into a fit of giggles. I didn’t know why I was laughing, only that, for some reason, I found it impossible to stop.

“How many of those have you h-had?” I asked, hiccupping.

Jesse seemed to think about it, trying to count on his fingers. He got to three, shook his head, and shrugged. “I don’t have enough fingers for that,” he assured me, clumsily holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

I giggled and twirled my hair around my finger, staring into my martini.

Jesse was silent for a moment, and then when he spoke next, his voice was more serious. “Are you ever gonna tell me why you were so sad?”

I looked up at him. His face was completely innocent, child-like, waiting in anticipation for my answer. It was a welcome change of pace, to feel like I mattered to someone, to feel like they were genuinely concerned for me, albeit brought on by the booze. Still, I felt just a little warmth in my chest, the fact that Jesse had noticed me. It was nice to be noticed.

I bit my lip. “You won’t tell anybody?”

He held up his hand, his pinky extended. “Pinky swear.”

I giggled and shook his finger, suddenly feeling like I was in third grade again. “There’s a boy,” I said bluntly, unsure of how to say it any other way.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. He checked out of the corner of his eye to see that the bartender had returned with his drink, and promptly took as big of a swig as he could manage without getting a brain freeze that he had been moaning about all night. “Oh?”

I bit my lip again. “Yeah. He… He kissed me.”

That much was true. I wasn’t sure how much I could tell Jesse about Sawyer, but that seemed like a safe bet. It was true, after all, and I couldn’t seem to get it out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. I felt my lips tingle ever so slightly at the thought. But that might just have been the alcohol.
Jesse choked a little on his drink. “O-oh. I, uh… I wouldn’t have done this, Red, if I’d known you had a boyfriend-“

I chose to ignore the implications of that statement and held up my hand, shakily. “He’s not my boyfriend. He doesn’t even like me.” I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice. “Besides, being here, with a friend, is exactly what I needed.”

Jesse smiled slowly, his thousand mega-watt smile that no doubt would charm the pants off of any willing woman.

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “You know, Charlie, you’re really pretty,” he admitted, his words only slightly more slurred than before.

I felt my cheeks flush an unnatural shade of pink. Hardly anyone ever called me pretty. I was always the girl-next-door type, the one that never stood out except for my hair color. I fought back the smile that threatened to break out and instead looked up at Jesse through my lashes in an attempt to play-flirt with him.

“Speak for yourself, handsome,” I joked, running a hand down his arm.

I wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment I was sitting on my stool, drink in hand, and Jesse in front of me…

And the next, he had leaned in toward me, his mouth connecting with mine, my drink shattered on the floor, forgotten.

It could hardly be called a kiss unless the giver had been a dog. I grimaced as Jesse’s wet lips assaulted my own, sliding over them. His lips were hot against mine, but sloppy, like one would expect in a bar. I tried with some effort to push him off of me, but to no avail – he was much stronger, much more determined, than I was.

Finally he pulled away, separating our lips with a loud sucking sound.

It was then that I heard another noise, one that would haunt me for years to come.

“Charlie?”

I turned to see the last person that I had expected, or wanted, to be there. Sawyer.

He had seen the whole thing.