Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(101)

I was stiff in my seat, stumped and startled by the earnestness in the words. Bear stared back at me, and I was struck by the meaning. I'd taken every prospect who'd sworn into the club as an honor, as a piece of my pride surrounding the Devils, but it'd been our club as a whole on offer, not just me. Bear had chosen me to follow. Me to be loyal to.

He cleared his throat, brow furrowing. "I don't want to leave, but I do think I could be Faith's head alpha if you need us to go."

The refusal was on my tongue, immediate and sharp, but the sudden bright crackling of glass shattering interrupted us both.

Bear and I stood at the same time.

"Front door?" he asked.

"I'll check the bar and meet you there," I answered, opening my bottom desk drawer and retrieving my gun from its case.

Bear pulled his own from the holster on his hip as another warning sprinkling of glass sounded.

We were just reaching the door when I caught a whiff of the gas, saw a whisper of it in the hall.

"Fuck, Bear—" I hissed.

But a massive figure in black shot forward from the bar, tackling Bear with a growling grunt. We were under attack, and the sight of the tactical gear, the bulletproof vest strapped over the broad chest even as I fired, gave me an easy guess as to the source.

They'd come for her.





36. FAITH





My body curled around Chance's back as we lay in the nest. I teased him with little traces of my fingertips, the pair of us nearly dozing under the dim twinkle lights, just waiting for Bear and hopefully King to arrive for the night. I was tipsy from the party, overstuffed on casseroles and bratwurst. In spite of the tensions within the club, I'd finally talked to some of the betas and other alphas. With one exception—an alpha called Trick, who'd made sly remarks about Chance until we'd walked away as a group—I'd liked everyone I met.

"The nest is gonna be crowded with Ghost in here too," I mumbled into Chance's hair.

His hand reached up and covered mine. "You gettin’ ahead of yourself, birdy."

Ghost had followed Chance around the party like a puppy, stretching out on a bench and laying his head on Chance's thigh at one point. He and I had developed a unique kind of flirting that basically consisted of us competing for Chance's attention. I had a feeling my packmate liked it more than he was willing to admit.

"Maybe," I said, kissing his head.

My eyes were falling shut, eyelids too heavy to keep open, and I reached down the bond, searching for Bear to try and coax him to hurry to bed. I had a feeling that even if King went back to his room, he would end up in the nest. There was no way he'd be able to stand sleeping in his bed after the work I'd put into perfuming it. It was my revenge for all the times he'd left the nest while I was sleeping, and he'd sanctioned it himself.

Bear brushed back softly, a gentle reassurance that made sleep slide even closer. I was giving into the floaty sensation that came right at the edge, our bond still open, when a sudden spike of alert and worry shot through me like lightning.

I gasped, sitting up, and Chance grunted, flopping over, his face mashed into the pillow.

"Birbthy?"

"Something is wrong," I whispered, scrambling for the end of the bed.

"Wait," he called, hurrying after me, hands catching at my hips.

I cried out at a sudden blast in the bond, a bolt of caution, a boom of anger, the tension echoing from Bear to me. "Someone is here. Bear's downstairs, I need to—"

Run, hide, fight.

I fell out of the nest, Chance tossing blankets aside. I needed to dress. I grabbed for the first thing I could find, but it was the dress I'd worn to the party, the one Ghost had kept slipping his hand under when we'd gone to the kitchen together to fill up our plates again.

A bone-rattling strike from the bond hit me, and I fell to my knees.

"Hey, hey, slow down," Chance hissed, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He pulled the dress from my hands, throwing it across the room.

"Bear's hurt," I whined. The room was too small, and my heart was swelling and hammering in my chest, at the brink of exploding.

"Shirt," Chance said, standing and pulling one down from the roof of the nest. He shoved it over my head, and I pulled my arms through the holes. "Jeans."

I managed those on my own, breathing through my teeth, forcing myself to block Bear out just enough to function. Chance was dressing out of the corner of my eye, jumping into his own jeans, sliding on his vest. There were knives strapped to the inside. Good.

"You need to stay here, birdy," he said. I was already heading for the door, running in bare feet. "Wait! Faith!"

"They're here. They have Bear."

"Bear can handle himself!"

But Chance's voice was growing short, faded, and I was already out in the hall. His footsteps pounded after mine, an echo of fists against the wall signaling his path.

"Wake up! We got company," Chance bellowed.

"Bear!" I shouted, running for the dim light of the stairs.

"Faith!"

There was smoke on the stairs—a fire? Was Bear in the fire? The steps weren't hot, but my lungs and eyes stung as I rushed down.

"Gas! Faith, no!"

"We got her."