The soft earth beneath her bare feet was a welcomed reminder of freedom as Weapon moved through the thick forest; she could hear her littermates, hear their breathing, their hearts pounding, and welcomed each sound.
A glance upwards revealed the sun was high as the golden light filtered through the canopy of leaves and needles. Inhaling, the rich smell of damp earth, rotting vegetation, and sweat swirled around her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone anymore.
Weapon rolled her shoulders, her mind filled with thoughts, with plans for protecting those that deserved it. She would do whatever had to be done to protect Father and his mate, even kill the others. Growling softly, longing to just take to the skies, she glanced around. The rest of the pack was spread out, moving through the trunks fully intent upon their mission. With an agile leap, she grabbed a sturdy branch and swung up into the tree. She could travel faster branch to branch then they could on the ground.
Tracking over the uneven terrain, the small pack moved through both the day and night. Hunting in unison, pausing only long enough to get rest, to eat, determined to protect the ones they had been blessed with.
Long shadows stretched out over the rolling green of the field as the pack paused. Before them stretching out were endless gardens, and shrubbery before a massive house. Vines covered the walls, windows glowed golden with the lights and they could hear the sounds of people laughing, the sounds of children, of voices, toys, that drifted across the evening air.
Dropping into a low crouch she assessed the situation carefully. There were many young within those walls, many who were defenseless, who couldn’t protect themselves against the likes of the monsters that she knew were there. It would be up to them, to the pack to defend and protect. The distinct cry of a baby drew a rumbling snarl from her chest and her hands clenched, her nails digging into the soft earth.
A suckling young would be most at risk, it wouldn’t be able to run, wouldn’t understand the pain that would come. She would have to get in and get it out quickly. With a deep, almost physical hatred she scanned the lower bank of windows, searching for that opening she’d once gone in.
Catching movement a littermate nudged her shoulder, “Monster?”
Turning her head quickly she stared at the massive frame walking along the edge of the grass. His broad shoulders were hugged by the dark t-shirt he wore and pale coverings encased his legs. He walked with a feline grace, one she’d seen too often not to recognize. He was a trained fighter, a man willing to hurt to save what he believed in. Still there was something about him, something that tickled at the back of her mind.
“Stay.” Turning, twisting under the gathered males of the pack, Weapon slid into the foliage, into the shadows. Regardless of who this male was, she could take him. She could bend him to her will and take the information she needed from him. He would be the source of her information, the source of her victory over the monsters. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d just been volunteered to be the expendable one in the pack.
Weapon darted through the branches, ducking and dodging them as she made her way around the edge of the clearing. With each step, each movement her eyes never left her prey, slowly, inch by inch the blue faded to be replaced by blood red and pure anger.
Piotr swore softly to himself as he headed for the trail that Logan had taken earlier in the evening. For some reason, Logan had gotten even angrier and volatile since Rogue’s metal face had come back into play. Not that Piotr blamed the odler man, after all it was hard to blame someone for loving another person so much.
Still everyone had noticed the tension in the room with Logan, Rogue, and Dr. Grey. The couple was focused on finding Weapon and her brother, and blamed Dr. Grey. He knew that they blamed the red-head for the other girl’s disappearance, blamed her for their loss and he wondered if that was true. Would Dr. Grey ever sell one of their kind out?
Piotr froze at the softest of sounds and glanced around. The lights from the mansion didn’t spill this far and in the late evening shadows he couldn’t make out anything other than vague shapes but something or someone was out there.
“Bloody Hell,” The Russian curse slipped past his control as he shifted, wondering if he should metal up or not. With a shake of his head he moved closer to the brush, deeper into the shadows, “You’re imagining things, Piotr. Ain’t nobody out here but Logan and he ain’t got a quarrel with you.”
Ducking a low hanging branch, Piotr started down the trail, a hand reaching for his belt where the flashlight was hanging. Like something out of a movie, he watched the flashlight roll across the forest floor, the pale beam dancing with the shadows even as he felt a heavy weight crash into him, taking him to the ground.
His attacker’s weight forced him down, and after a split second of shock his training kicked in and he kicked out, before rolling, away from the assailant. In a tangle of limbs, with angry snarls, Piotr found himself flat on his back a warm, soft body on top of him and teeth buried in his shoulder. Before her could scream, the bite was released and a hard hand clamped down over his mouth.
Hot breath panted out over his skin told him that his attacker was probably tired, and he reached for him only to find himself with a handful of naked flesh that didn’t belong on any man. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to be fooled by the fact that his attacker was a woman. Life and death didn’t care if you were male or female, and he wouldn’t allow himself to either.
With his armor climbing up his arm, Piotr swung, connecting with the woman’s jaw, sending her flying. Before he could get himself up completely, she had shaken off the force of the blow and was launching herself into him, her considerable weight catching him midsection and sending him backwards into a tree. Jagged claws tore at his clothes, grunts and snarls of rage filled his ears as he fought back. If whoever the Brotherhood had sent got past him, the younger kids would suffer.
Ducking a punch, Piotr caught her in the stomach with a hefty punch only to find himself on the ground with her teeth once again buried in his flesh. Only this time she didn’t seem to be willing to let go, instead the snarls and growls increased every time he struggled.
Later he would wonder just how her teeth had managed to get past his armor, how she’d managed to get a firm enough grip to draw blood. For now, his main concern was staying alive.
“Weak.”
Low, furious, the snarl by his ear stunned Piotr. Gasping for breathe, his head tilted at an unnatural angle he swallowed harshly, his fingers digging into the rotting vegitation beneath him.
“No. No, I’m not weak.” Piotr somehow managed to get out.
“Where is she?” Hot, wet her tongue trailed up the side of his face, leaving a trail of cooling moisture. “Where is your monster?”
“I don’t know…” Piotr grunted in pain when she grabbed him, sinking her nails deep into his flesh.
“Where is Chosen? Where is Father?”
Twisting his head as much as possible with her hand in his head he stared at her out of the corner of his eye, her words familiar, and an echo of something he’d heard not more than four hours before. “Father? Chosen?” He whispered. “Oh my God! It’s you!”
Shocked at the way he surrendered, the way he suddenly became submissive, Weapon darted away from him. Crouching into a low stance, one she could either attack or run from with little effort. Snarling at him she glared at the male before her, licking her lips as she smelt the rich scent of his blood coming off him. There had been a sweetness to the warm liquid that seemed at odds with the faintly metallic taste she knew.
Hunkered on her haunches she stared at him as he slowly made it to his knees, to his haunches his position mirroring her own. Silence stretched painfully between them as both waited to see what the other would do.
Only when Bobby shouted at Piotr did the silent standoff break. With a lunge, Weapon went over Piotr and into the trees vanishing into the darkness leaving him sprawled out on the ground, his eyes seeing the twisted lines of her bare back, a back that should have been covered by wings.
Reaching up, Piotr trailed hand over his throat where she’d bit him, his fingers rubbing at the blood even as he climbed to his feet. He could hear Bobby shouting at him again and swore, “HOLD YOUR HORSES! I’m coming,” he muttered staring down at his hands. Something told him that Rogue and Logan would want to know about this but he didn’t know what to say.
With a kick at the ground he started back for the mansion, completely unaware of the woman sitting on a thick branch watching him, a look of shocked rage upon her face.
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