“Obviously I was wrong,” Ethan panted out, sweat beading his face. “It’s like they’re infecting us to be more afraid.”
“We’re prey,” Gregory said as he pressed against my leg. “They are the predators. It’s normal to be scared of things that want to eat you.”
While I felt the edges of the fear that the berserkers were inflicting on us, I was more focused on the task at hand.
God only knew what Ash and Nicholas were up to.
Or Frost and her crew. It was slowly freaking me out that both groups had been fairly quiet.
I stopped in front of a wooden door on my left, the iron bands holding it to the wall shiny and bright. New.
The wood smelled fresh cut. “Everything here is new.”
“Maybe the shifter who was in here before broke out,” Ethan said.
Gregory and I gave him a look, and he shrugged. “Just saying.”
“How about not just saying,” Gregory snapped. “How about shutting your piehole?”
I put a hand to the door, and like the main prison door it opened easily. As if welcoming us in. I grimaced. “Pete?” He was here, not far in, either. “Pete, come on, man.”
A low snarl rippled through the air, and there was the scratch of claws on stone as he scrabbled toward me. I reached back and slammed the door shut, keeping us both in the small space.
Honey badger Pete was seriously badass.
And he was pissed.
“Pete!” I hollered as I dodged his first swipe.
“He’s gone. They’ve forced him into being a berserker somehow!” Ethan barked through the door.
“No shit, Sherlock!” Gregory yelled. “Don’t hurt him, Wild! We have to try and bring him back!”
I pinned my back against the wall and kept my flashlight directly in Pete’s eyes. There was definitely nobody home in there. But the light in his eyes kept him from seeing me easily.
Snarling and swiping with his wicked claws, he came at me again, and I pushed him back with the tip of my boot.
That was a bad idea.
His head snaked sideways, and he grabbed hold of my ankle, dragging me to the ground, shaking me like a honey badger with a bone. I didn’t dare pull a knife. I didn’t want to hurt him. “Pete, snap the hell out of it!”
A deeper snarl, and I wished for nothing more than a Snickers bar to throw at him.
Wait.
“Ethan, in my bag there are two Snickers bars! Throw them in!”
I had no idea if he’d heard me over the snarling and growling of honey badger Pete. For just a moment, I heard his thoughts, and that didn’t make me feel any better.
Kill it. Eat it. Kill it. Eat it.
“No, Pete, no eating me!” I pushed at him with my free boot, and he latched onto the sole of it, yanking me back and forth across the floor, dragging me along with him as if I weighed nothing. “Hurry it up, Ethan!”
“Here!” Two chocolate bars were tossed onto the floor, just out of reach. I scrabbled for them, my fingers brushing against one package before Pete could dig deeper into my boot. His teeth were already pressing against my skin.
I twisted hard onto my belly, gritting my teeth as my broken fingers banged into the ground. “Son of a bi—” I slapped my hands over the chocolate bar and pulled it to my mouth, using my teeth to rip the package open. “Pete!”
I leaned forward, holding the bar out to him, my good hand dangerously close to his snarling face. He froze, his teeth still sunk through my boot, but his nose twitched. I waved the chocolate bar back and forth in front of his nose. “Come on, buddy. This is much better than a stinking old boot.”
Another nose twitch. He slowly released my boot and then lunged for the chocolate bar. Taking it all in one bite. I yelped and scrambled backward, grabbing the second bar and peeling it open quickly. “Come on, buddy.”
He waddled toward me, his thoughts changing as they touched my mind.
Snickers . . . give it to me.
“Only if you promise to shift back.”
He grunted, and I held out the second bar. It would have to be enough for now. I hoped.
Honey badger Pete took the second bar a little slower than the first, chewing it up in three bites instead of one. I slid back slowly until I was against the door, then pushed to my feet.
Honey badger Pete tipped his head slowly at me.
I’m going to shift. You got clothes?
“Of course.” I fumbled for the door and stepped out, backing right into Ethan. “In my bag, there is a pair of pants and a shirt.”
Ethan’s eyebrows worked up. “The chocolate bars worked?”
“Snickers satisfies,” Gregory said.
“Hey,” Pete called out, “I can hear you.”
I grinned, though I was still shaking a little. I could feel it in my guts that it had been closer than even Pete realized. A few minutes more and we wouldn’t have been able to bring him back. If we’d taken the longer route . . . “Toss him the clothes.”
Ethan did just that, shoving the clothes through the door. A few moments later, Pete shuffled out. He wasn’t as chubby as he’d been even the day before, and the clothes fit him not too badly, all things considered.
He didn’t lift his eyes, though, staring hard at the floor. “Sorry about that.”
I threw an arm across his shoulders. “Don’t even worry about it. Will you be okay for a bit now?”
He nodded. “They pushed me into it. I . . . don’t remember much after they snagged us off the street.” Pete narrowed his eyes as he lifted his head. “But you, I remember. You helped your father and his buddies take us. Wally said you killed Colt!”
Ethan paled, and I stepped between them. “Wait. He’s with us, Pete. Really with us. His father had a spell on him that forced him to kill Colt.”
“You’re just saying that because you kissed him,” Gregory said, and I turned to him.
Oh, this I did not need. Then another thought hit me. “Wait, you can tell who I kiss?”
Gregory shrugged. “Whatever the bond is between us, it’s been filtering through memories. I caught a glimpse of you kissing him, though it did seem to be more one-sided than he would have liked.”
I groaned and held my hands up. “Can we discuss this later?”
“No,” Pete growled, and I realized he was jonesing on his honey badger badassery. I sighed.
“I kissed him in order to dig into his memories, to see if we could trust him. And we can.” I put a hand on Pete’s shoulder, holding him back. “Pete, if you trust me, then you can trust Ethan.”
“And what if he showed you what he wanted to show you?” Gregory said as he turned toward Ethan. “What if . . . shit, I want to trust you, Wonder Bread. Despite everything.”
That he was using my nickname for Ethan was almost touching. Almost.
Ethan frowned. “But?”
“But can you deny that the power struggle between our two houses isn’t an issue? That my house is a slave to yours in pretty much every sense of the word?” Hurt flowed beneath Gregory’s words, and while this really wasn’t the time . . . I also didn’t know if there would be a good time.
I needed them working together, with me, not against each other.
So, I stepped back. “Okay, boys, have your say. You’ve got five minutes. Make it count.”