Forging the Guild (The Protector Guild Book 2)

by Gray Holborn

  I almost revealed that she’d let the creature kiss her, but the thought still made me angry enough that I didn’t want to revisit the visual any time soon. That’d be a discussion for another day.

  “You almost died from a vamp attack,” Dec said, reigning in her anger until her words sounded clipped and flat. “You get that, right? A few weeks ago, you almost died.” She nodded her head towards the staircase as she studied Max with a precise, cold fury. “And Wade, he also just almost died from a vamp attack. So while you’re standing there all haughty and proud of yourself for unleashing some unknown dog into the wild, know that whoever that vamp kills while he’s on the run—that’s on you. That blood is on your hands.” She turned, ran up the stairs, and slammed her door.

  A loud crash upstairs made Max jump. She’d shrunken down a bit, and for the first time looked like she felt guilty for more than letting the vampire touch her. Good. Protectors were supposed to protect each other and other humans, not endanger them. Maybe Declan’s reality check would affect her actions in a way nothing else would.

  Eli and Max stood in a silent standoff until she backed down and went into her room, a much softer door slam echoing throughout the cabin. Poor Wade, if he’d been asleep before, there was no way he was now.

  Still collecting myself, and trying to cool down enough to have a conversation, I hammered a text to Seamus, alerting him of the evening’s turn of events.

  Eli turned into the kitchen and I heard the welcome hiss as he popped the lid off two beers. Hopefully it would help take the edge off. I was mad as hell, but there was so much else warring in me right now that I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it all. That was for another day. Beer would be good, beer I could focus on.

  My phone vibrated and I followed Eli into the kitchen, reading. “Seamus wants us to keep her on lockdown here. He’s going to grab Cyrus but doesn’t want to alert anyone else. He’s afraid they’ll be kicked out or that Max will face radical discipline for her actions.”

  Eli’s brows knit together as he downed half his beer in a single gulp. “What does that mean? Radical discipline? What would they do to her?”

  I let out a long breath, mimicking his action. “It means that it’s on Seamus, Cyrus, and us to get this vamp and hellhound back in the lab. Before too many people realize there was a breach in the first place.”

  “Before Alleva finds out, you mean,” Eli said, his knuckles were white and I half-expected him to shatter the bottle.

  I nodded, exhaustion seeping through my bones. I wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next three days. But instead, we were going on a hunt.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Max

  I tried for hours to sleep, but the harder I seemed to chase it, the more rest seemed to evade me. Sleep was annoying that way. All I could think about was whether or not Ralph was okay. It was a lot easier to focus on his safety than on the fact that I’d kissed a freaking vampire. And that the two seconds of lip-to-lip action was eons better than what I’d had with Michael. What the hell was wrong with me?

  In the span of twenty-four hours I’d essentially made out with two different people—both of whom ran off immediately after. Granted, I didn’t want Darius to stick around. My brain was muddled and confused enough as it was already.

  With a final huff, I pushed myself up in bed. My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I studied Sarah’s old room for a moment: the outlines of books on her shelves, her record player and interesting collection of music, the large window that overlooked the trees. I allowed myself to wonder just briefly what living with them was like for her. Did they welcome her? Did they want her to be part of their team? Or was she on the outside of their club, like me? Still, no matter how pissed I got with Atlas or Declan or Eli, I couldn’t deny that some part of me was infuriatingly drawn to them all. Drawn to them in a way that I hadn’t been drawn to Ten, no matter how much better I got along with Arnell and his team.

  Something about Atlas and the rest of them had carved its way underneath my skin, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t seem to shake it. Even though I didn’t regret breaking Ralph out, the look on Declan’s face, her absolute disappointment with me, was permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids. I didn’t know if she’d be capable of forgiving me, but as soon as a crippling fear that she wouldn’t consumed my thoughts, I realized how desperately I wanted her to.

  Hopefully everyone in the house was passed out by now, so I could sneak down for some water and a late night snack without having to stomach any more incriminating glares and speeches. Jailbreaks made me famished.

  When I tried to turn the doorknob, it didn’t budge. They’d locked me in, then. Can’t say that I completely blamed them if I was being honest with myself. I was pretty sure that freeing a vampire was a serious crime and I knew I’d have to deal with the repercussions eventually. For now, that apparently meant house arrest.

  And while I didn’t want to think about Darius, Declan had a point. Anyone he harmed—that was on me. I was definitely not prepared to handle that level of guilt. For now, I’d push it down and out of my mind, hoping like hell that wherever he was, he wasn’t hurting anyone. As much as I hated vampires, Darius just hadn’t seemed that, I don’t know, evil? If I lingered for too long on our conversations, it felt like he was just another person trapped up in this world of angels and demons. Maybe I just expected vampires to be more like mindless zombies, or clearly hellbent on attacking me like the guy at Vanish or the girl in the lab.

  It was a ridiculous sentiment though, considering I literally watched Darius snap a protector’s neck. Granted, that protector was two seconds away from killing Ralph, but still.

  He ate him. And that death blow might as well have been cast by my own hand.

  The weight of that realization gripped my lungs and I forced myself to breathe in and out in deep, long breaths. My eyes blurred with dancing dots of light as a dull beeping sound rang through my ears. It took all of my attention to keep from throwing up all over Sarah’s pretty carpet—to focus on anything but the fact that a protector was dead tonight because of me.

  Ro. I needed to get to Ro. He would know how to make this better, make things okay. He could tell me what to do or next or at least keep me company until Cyrus and Seamus came to deliver whatever punishment they saw fit—whatever it was, I knew in the very marrow of my bones that I deserved it.

  It was weird. My whole life I’d thought about becoming a protector one day, about keeping humans safe from the monsters that went bump in the night. Only it turned out that I was the one who let those monsters free to terrorize them. In one night, I watched my future and my career tumble like Jenga blocks. There was no belonging for me now, not really.

  But at least Ralph was safe. He’d make it back to wherever his home was. At least his death wasn’t on my hands—it wasn’t enough to quell my shame, but it was something.

  I grabbed my bag and shuffled around until I found the small pouch I was looking for. Cyrus taught us the importance of fighting, sure, but he’d also made sure that we knew how to pick a lock. He’d made it clear that sometimes knowing how and when to escape danger was just as important as fighting through it.

  I rifled through my kit until I found the tools I was looking for and made quick work of the lock mechanism. It was easier than most, and probably could have been managed without my kit, just the proper use of leverage. Bedroom doors didn’t usually come with top-level security needs.

  The latch popped softly, and I crept out, not wanting to disturb the team or rehash our argument. If they wanted to yell at me some more tomorrow, that was fine—Ralph would be long gone and that was all that mattered right now. I would take my punishment standing tall.

  The hall was dark and I still didn’t have the layout of everything in the cabin memorized, so I pressed my hand against the wall as a guide. It was working well until I stubbed my toe on a door frame—if I remembered correctly, it was Wade’s—and bit back a wh
imper.

  I held my breath and stopped moving, hoping the small noise didn’t wake anyone.

  I heard shuffling on the other side of the door, but when it stopped, I started moving again.

  Until, all at once, the door swung open and I was pressed against the wall. One moment, I was alone and bumbling around, the next Wade’s body was leaning into me, a knife pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

  “Max?” He exhaled, relinquishing the grip on his knife. He took a step back to give me some space and I instantly felt the chill of his absence. “What the hell are you doing up?” He rubbed sleep from his eyes and shook his head. “You were supposed to be locked in for the night. Jesus, I thought you were—I could have killed you, you know?”

  He wasn’t whispering and I was surprised no one else came out to check on the commotion. Wade had woken up instantly.

  “I grew up with Cyrus,” I said, not needing to offer any more of an explanation.

  He leaned against the wall, and even in the dark I could see soft perspiration across the smooth skin of his forehead. He was winded, just from standing up and rushing to the hallway.

  Rest. After his ordeal, he desperately needed rest.

  “Come on.” I grabbed his arm and threw it across my shoulders, letting his weight fall on me. “You shouldn’t be up, you’re going to use what little energy you have chasing me around in the dark. Let’s get you back to bed.”

  He let me lead him into his room, and I helped him get readjusted in bed, covering his lap with his blankets and fluffing his pillows.

  He turned on a small bedside lamp, the soft light distorting his features slightly and making him look even more drained than I’d realized.

  Unable to stop myself, I rested my palm against his cheek, suddenly needing to feel his skin, needing to know that he was okay.

  “I hate being this weak,” he said, his frustration leaking into his voice, but he didn’t pull away from me.

  “You just woke up today, Wade.” I sat next to him on his bed and grabbed the glass of water on his nightstand. “Drink this, you need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal in no time, but until then, you need to be kind to yourself. Relax. Let everyone take care of you for once, okay?”

  His pale blue eyes studied me as he grabbed the glass and I caught my breath as his fingers brushed against mine. “I’m glad you’re okay, Max.”

  I exhaled sharply, instantly breaking eye contact. It was too much. This whole night, hell this whole week, was too much. “That makes one of you, the rest of your team seems to hate me for what I did.”

  Wade shrugged, a hardness to his features that I wasn’t used to. “Do you blame them? I get that you wanted to protect the hellhound. Really, I do.” He set the glass back down, missing the coaster, and grabbed my hand. “But you let out a dangerous vampire. A killer. One protector is dead, and who knows how many more he’ll kill before they get him back.” His jaw clenched as he shook his head softly. “Jesus, Max. I mean do you realize how lucky you are that you’re still alive? What were you thinking?”

  That familiar, awful feeling churned in my gut again and I studied the worn books on his shelf, unable to meet his eyes with mine. We sat in silence for a few minutes, but I could feel Wade’s gaze as he studied me. I knew he wanted me to say something, to make it better, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know where to start.

  Breaking the tension, I nodded towards the door.

  “Everyone else a heavy sleeper around here or what?” I asked, my attempt at humor falling flat.

  An unreadable expression crossed his face, disappointment maybe or frustration? “They’re out.”

  My breath caught the second that I realized what that meant. “They’re going after them?”

  Wade didn’t answer, but his silence was enough. I saw it in the flare of his nose, the clench of his jaw—he was angry with himself, for being stuck here watching me. He wanted to be out with his team, helping them hunt the monsters down.

  Were they going after Ralph or just Darius? Were they still together? My heartrate started picking up and I stood quickly, dizzy with fear. There was no way that I went through what I went through tonight—no way that I threw everything I stood for away, just for Ralph to end up back here as a decomposing body.

  I understood why they needed to go after Darius, I did. It was our job, what we were designed and trained to do. But Ralph was not a murderer. He didn’t belong in a cage. He didn’t deserve to be executed.

  Wade watched the decision settle on my features just a second too late. Before he reached his arm out to stop me, I was halfway through the door.

  “Max,” he said, using his remaining energy to stand next to his bed. “Please just let them handle it. Stay here, please. I can’t watch out for you if you leave.”

  “Sorry, Wade,” I said, and I was. I wanted to stay with him, to be part of their team and fit in with the protectors here. But this was too important. And I realized now that I didn’t fit here, and maybe never would.

  Without another look, I tore down the stairs, stopping just long enough to shove my feet into my sneakers.

  “Max, wait. Please,” Wade said, his voice echoing down the hall. I felt bad leaving him, especially considering he wasn’t in great shape and no one was around. But this was life or death and there was no way I was letting Ralph get roped back into his doom, even if it meant I had to use Wade’s current condition to my advantage. I’d find a way to make it up to him eventually.

  I hoped I would anyway. There wasn’t another option.

  When I reached the trail of trees, the breeze blowing my hair in every direction, I discovered another problem. I didn’t exactly know where the guys were. I knew where the line to the property was and vaguely which direction Darius took off in, but I wasn’t exactly familiar with these surroundings. And I didn’t have a great sense of direction.

  I let out a frustrated grunt as I looked from one tree to another, angry with myself for what felt like the millionth time tonight. Without second guessing myself, I ran to Ten’s cabin, pounding on the door until a disgruntled Sharla answered, her hair wrapped tightly in silk.

  “I need my brother, now,” I said, my words coming out with an edge of desperation. I felt bad skipping pleasantries, but Sharla’s expression sharpened as she sensed my emergency. As soon as she processed my request, she went tearing back into the house.

  I counted the seconds until Ro was standing in front of me—exactly thirty-seven—with a focused and alert expression on his face, like I hadn’t just woken him up in the middle of the night. With a single nod, I turned and ran, thankful when I heard his familiar, heavy steps following behind me. Trusting my gut, I ran with all of my stamina, all of my strength to the spot I last saw Ralph and Darius. My feet dug into the soft ground, kicking up small puffs of dirt as I pumped my arms and explained the situation to Ro through chaotic bursts of breath.

  He didn’t voice his frustration, but I could feel his glare nailing the back of my head, no doubt pissed that I went through with the rescue mission on my own. Still, he listened to every word, every twist of the story without directly calling me out. He knew I was aware that I messed up tonight, on several counts.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed out. I winced at the terror in my tone and pushed my body faster. “It was poorly planned, and I’m sorry I didn’t bring you in the first place. I don’t know what I was thinking. But Ro, please. I need you to not be mad and just help me track them down. You can kick my ass tomorrow and the day after that. But not tonight.”

  I looked out of the corner of my eye, my heart melting with relief when he gave me a single nod, determination dissolving the leftover hurt and anger on his face.

  The night air was cool and I willed myself to focus on the familiar pattern of trees. I knew which direction Darius and Ralph had gone, so I would just take the same path and hope we found them. Eventually.

  The winding paths through the woods all started to blur together, so I relied on
Ro to track. It was infuriating watching him work, bending over snapped twigs, using his phone to shine a light on random indentations in the dirt—all while I stood, useless and filled with an anxiety so deep it was palpable.

  We moved for what felt like hours, but I knew it was likely just minutes. Time didn’t make sense, didn’t follow rules in moments like these.

  Ro stopped, and I studied as he tilted his head, face scrunched in confusion.

  “What?” I asked, breathless, studying the twigs and bark around me like I could Sherlock whatever conclusion he’d drawn until it landed me in front of a safe and happy Ralph.

  “The trail doesn’t make sense here,” he said, bending down and pointing to a random sweep of leaves and footprints.

  It meant nothing to me and frustration with my own inadequacies made me snap. “Ro, we don’t have time for this to become a school lesson, just spit it out.”

  He shot me a look and I withered in shame, my stomach clenching in an unforgiving knot.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “it’s just, if Ralph dies, it’s on me. And I can’t handle another death on my hands tonight. I don’t know how I’d survive it.”

  Ro nodded once and stood back up from his crouch. “They were here, I see four sets of footprints, and one set of pawprints.” He paused, doubt creating a crease between his brows. “But then it becomes another set of pawprints, and the third person’s footprints disappear. There’s no dragging though, so it’s like they were attacked by another beast but then just disappeared completely or were lifted into the air.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said, digging half crescents into the soft flesh of my palms.

  “I know,” Ro said, his face smoothing out in concentration. He started walking further into the woods, muscles tense with focus, not uttering another word or theory out loud.