“Nah, you’re just cracked,” Nix put in, breaking the awkward moment before it could fully form.
Micah chuckled, and the others visibly relaxed, appearing relieved. Christ, did they really think he was that freaking fragile? “Cracked and super-glued so tight I’m a damn work of art. Right, Noah?”
The nurse shook his head, but his lips were turned up in a small smile edged with concern. “Right.”
Quickly Micah took two last bites of his pancakes. Then pushing his plate away, he stood, pasting on a cheerful grin. “Well, this has been fun. Gotta go check on my bike, so I’ll see you guys later.”
The others issued a round of good-byes, but Aric watched him with a narrow-eyed stare. Nothing got past the redheaded wolf, but he didn’t challenge Micah’s excuse as he turned to leave. As he started toward the exit,
Micah saw that Nick was still finishing up breakfast and talking with his mate, so maybe he’d get some time to himself before the meeting with the commander.
On the heels of that thought, a loud tone pulsed through the air, startling everyone into silence. Micah halted briefly, his current troubles blown away like so much dust, for the time being. The alarm meant only one thing—the Alpha Pack had to take to the air, fast. No time for a team briefing. Nick would receive a call from his boss, General Jarrod Grant, stating the emergency situation that needed to be handled and the location.
The commander had already risen from his seat and was on the move, putting his cell phone to his ear. Micah, for one, couldn’t wait for the fight. Adrenaline coursed through his blood like fire. He took off after Nick, his Pack brothers following suit. There was no time to dash back to their quarters. They ran outside, across the driveway, straight for the huge hangar that housed their land vehicles and aircraft to find their standby pilots already firing up two of the Hueys. Aric would pilot the third.
Some of the team armed themselves with weapons from the secure storage unit in the hangar, but aside from his knife, Micah didn’t bother. Honestly, his wolf was much stronger than his human half in a fight. And unlike most of the others, his particular Psy gift as a Dreamwalker wouldn’t help anyone much in battle—unless all the combatants suddenly fell asleep.
Not damn likely. Snorting to himself, he climbed onto Aric’s copter. If the man was flying, he couldn’t give Micah shit. Of course there was his sister to deal with, along with Sorcerer/Necromancer/black panther Kalen Black, Channeler/gray wolf Ryon Hunter, Hammer—aka former FBI agent John Ryder—and a watchful Nick.
The commander pulled out his cell phone, answering an incoming call with a greeting loud enough to be heard over the engine and whirling blades. “Jarrod, what’s going on?” After a brief conversation, he ended the call and keyed the handheld radio that would send his voice through their headsets.
“Got a bad situation fifty miles north, a panicked family under siege by what they described to the dispatcher at the sheriff’s office as large beasts with wings.” He let that sink in as the copter lifted into the air through the portal in the hangar’s roof, and several of the team cursed.
Micah almost choked. “Demons?”
“Demons are my best guess,” Nick confirmed for the benefit of those listening on units in the other helicopters. “We haven’t fought anything this lethal in a while. They’re going to make the goblins look like poodles. You guys ready?”
A chorus of Fuck yeah and We got this chimed in through the headsets, and Micah grinned in spite of the sliver of fear that send shards of ice sliding into his blood. Some things never changed. The Pack never backed down from an enemy. Never.
“Watch the fangs and claws,” Nick went on. “Their venom can be deadly, even for shifters. Go for the kill, fast. Don’t listen to anything they might say, or engage in a verbal confrontation. Let the bastards get into your head, and you’re fucked. They love to take slaves to the Underworld almost as much as they love to kill—which is probably why the family they’re trying to get to isn’t dead yet. They’re toying with the poor people, but they won’t wait much longer.”
Micah shuddered. Of all the horrors never to experience, aside from his own kidnapping and torture, being taken to the Underworld and subjected to whims of demons were right among the top five. According to legend, the demons answered to Hades. Was that even true?
Another item to add to the list.
Let’s not find out.
Across from Micah, Kalen and John were talking. Glancing next to him at Rowan, he was disconcerted to find her observing him worriedly. Shaking his head to stave off any questions or lectures, he looked across to Ryon to find the man staring at him. Or, not at Micah, exactly.
More like, glancing around him.
“Man, what are you looking at?” he growled.
The other man stilled for a few moments, eyes glazing over, which was creepy as hell. Then he met Micah’s gaze and simply said, “Later.”
“What?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” A suspicion struck him. “You seein’ dead people again?
Around me?”
Ryon’s grim silence was answer enough.
“Who are they?” Rowan demanded, startled.
“Seriously, fuck that shit. Tell ’em to buzz off.”