Page 26 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

“ I ’ve never been to Arkansas before,” Krys grumbled as they neared the state line.

Over the past hour, Atticus had watched the landscape change from open fields to thick pine groves. “Stay at the speed limit.”

“Like you haven’t charmed your way out of a speeding ticket.”

The interior of Lakota’s black truck still had dents and dings as well as a few bullet holes. A pickup truck blended in better than two loud motorcycles, so they had borrowed it for the assignment.

Krys adjusted the rearview mirror. “Your friends back there better pick up the pace.”

“I instructed them not to follow too closely. They know where we’re going.”

Atticus had summoned two of his best employees to accompany them. He only hired people he could trust, but more importantly, they had the right background to do this work discreetly.

Apart from the radio, it had been a silent and uneventful drive. Atticus had kept his eyes closed most of the way except for when the noisy eighteen-wheelers passed them. He hated leaving Joy without a last goodbye, but they’d left before dawn, and he didn’t want to wake her, so he left her a note and a gift.

He said goodbye to the baby though. Just a quiet word and a touch. The bond he shared with Joy had also formed with her child. How the baby had come into existence didn’t matter to him. He was excited to experience fatherhood.

Atticus thought about the previous night. The lingering scent of rose oil on her skin, the silky feel of her hair, the stories she told about childhood and her travels. When she had made her declaration of love, relief flooded his veins. Salem could have given her a normal life, but she had made her choice.

A light sprinkle of rain glossed up the windshield, and when Krys turned on the wipers, it left an outline of dirt.

Atticus adjusted his sunglasses. He’d acclimated to the pain of daylight but still preferred wearing sunglasses when outside for long periods. The only time he’d ever been able to fully enjoy the daytime was during a total solar eclipse.

Krys put the blinker on. “I need to gas up and take a piss.”

“You didn’t fill the tank when we left?”

“On a mission like this, it’s better to top it off whenever you can. I’m also starving. You don’t want to see my wolf on an empty stomach. I fight better when I’m hungry, but we’re not doing this tonight.”

Krys pulled into a Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot, then glanced at Atticus. “If you’re hungry, you’ll have to go somewhere else. They don’t sell blood bags here.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just walk over to Walmart. I’m sure they have something in the back.”

Krys’s lips twitched, but his scowl quickly returned as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’m eating inside. Riding this close to a Vampire is freaking me the fuck out.” He glanced at his cheap watch. “Tell your friends they can stretch their legs or shine their guns but meet back here at one o’clock on the nose.”

Atticus sent a text message when he spotted his employees slowing down on the road.

It was a gloomy afternoon, and though Krys had on a jacket, it was leather. He looked like a rock star instead of a country boy. They still had a few more hours to go, their destination a small town outside of Little Rock, but it wasn’t ideal to stand out. Especially since the lab workers lived in the area and would be alarmed by any suspicious outsiders. Atticus decided to do something about it.

After exiting the truck, he branched toward the road. Mist pebbled his black coat as he walked toward the large retail store. Humans in the parking lot bustled to their cars in light jackets. He entered the store and realized he’d never been inside one of these places. Grocery shopping was one thing, but lately his manager was doing all his personal shopping.

The noise violated his eardrums, from the clacking of the shopping carts to screaming children and continual interruptions on the intercom. After selectively muting out those sounds, he located the men’s department.

People scrutinized him. Humans had an uncanny ability to sense Breed without even realizing it. Maybe it was his flawless skin, but he was also the only one walking around in dark sunglasses on a rainy day.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a teenage girl watching him. When she held up her phone to sneak a picture, he turned away.

Atticus observed the clothing people around him were wearing and located something similar.

“Hey, mister?”

He looked down at the girl, who fidgeted with her phone.

She lifted her brown eyes up to him and smiled. “Are you famous? I won’t tell nobody.”

“No, I’m not famous. Just passing through.”

“Are you sure? ’Cause you look like you could be someone. Nothing exciting ever happens around here.” She waited for an answer, making it clear she wasn’t going to let it go.

Atticus didn’t want anyone remembering him. He lowered his sunglasses and reeled her into his gaze. “I’m invisible. You don’t remember ever seeing me, and in three seconds, you’ll walk away with no memory of this encounter. One, two, three.”

The girl pivoted on her heel and walked off.

After selecting the clothes he wanted, he searched for hats. Several men were wearing baseball caps, so he chose the camouflage style and headed to the checkout area.

“Pleeeeease.” A little boy with ruddy cheeks gripped candy in one hand and his mother’s shirt in the other.

Atticus flicked his gaze to the conveyer belt. The cashier was scanning milk, ground beef, generic cereal, and other staples. Not a single luxury item to be found. Even the pain medicine was generic. He watched the woman counting her money while struggling to ignore the pleas from her little boy.

“Joey, put that back. Mama doesn’t have enough today.” She handed the cashier coupons and waited for him to adjust the price.

The boy pouted and reluctantly put the candy back on the shelf as he must have done a thousand times before.

“Hold on,” she said to the cashier. “I know I have a coupon in here for the meat.”

After setting his items on the belt, Atticus bent down to the little boy’s level and winked. With a hundred-dollar bill between his fingers, he rose to his feet. “Ma’am?”

When she turned, he held her gaze to charm her.

“This fell out of your wallet. It’s yours. Sometimes money has a way of appearing when we need it.”

She took the money. “Thanks. I didn’t even know that was in there,” she said with a quizzical stare.

“Sometimes I find money in my coat pockets.”

Charming a person was simply confusing them into believing.

“That happened to me once,” the cashier lady said. “Found a twenty in my dad’s coat after he died. Make sure you always check your pockets before donating your clothes to charity.”

Atticus took two candy bars off the shelf and placed them in her pile.

The little boy must have only been six. He beamed as if he’d won the lottery of life. After snatching his candy, he walked jauntily ahead of his mother. Maybe with that extra money, they could splurge on a nice meal.

While leaving the store, Atticus glanced at his phone to see how much time was left before Krys planned to leave. Once he stepped onto the grass to avoid traffic, he slowed his pace and wondered what Joy was up to. Lucian had given him a temporary phone for the assignment but warned them not to use it for personal messages. It was tempting to send Joy a note or hear her voice, but not at the expense of her safety.

He wiped the coating of mist off his face. After ripping the tags off the baseball hat, he put it on.

Once inside the chicken restaurant, he scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any other immortals. Krys was sitting by a window with a chicken leg in his mouth while he stared at his phone.

Atticus dropped the plastic bag next to him.

“What’s this?” Krys waved the drumstick at the bag.

“We’re not forgettable. If the mission doesn’t go as planned, we don’t want anyone tracing us back to Texas.”

“They already know where we live.” Krys licked his fingers. At least he wasn’t wearing any skull rings or other jewelry that Atticus had seen him in.

“The men we caught didn’t know your location until they beat up half the town. There’s no evidence that they shared that information with their boss. The calls suggest they kept communications limited to text messages.” Atticus gestured to Krys’s attire before taking a seat across the table. “Careless mistakes are a siren song for imbeciles.”

Krys gripped his spork like a caveman would and shoveled coleslaw into his mouth. “Put that on a pamphlet and sell your philosophy somewhere else.” His long hair touched his plate as he bit into his greasy chicken.

“Do you want me to lay out all the ways this thing could go wrong? We might get stranded and have to walk. The two workers who won’t be on shift might not be at home, and we’ll have to get involved in the hunt. There could be spies planted at key locations. Look at where we are. Do you see anyone else walking around in trench coats and leather?”

After swallowing, Krys wiped his mouth and said, “You worry too much.”

“Staying alive for three thousand years isn’t luck.” Atticus folded his arms on the table. “Lucian said you might murder me on this trip.”

A coughing fit erupted when Krys choked on his food. He held a napkin to his mouth until the coughing ceased and then wiped crumbs off his goatee. “That little fucker.”

“You don’t deny it.”

“I don’t admit it either.” Krys’s icy blue eyes cut through him like a knife. “All I said was it would be a damn shame if one of those Vampires took you out.”

“Message received.”

“Why does a Vampire want to live in a pack?” He pointed a greasy finger at him. “And why the hell does a Vamp want a pregnant woman? I don’t get it.”

Atticus ignored the use of Vamp , which was considered derogatory. “I didn’t expect winning your pack over to be easy.”

“You got that right. Wolves and Vamps are natural enemies, so you’re gonna need to do a whole lotta convincing.”

“Joy shines from within. I’m sure you’ve felt her energy and know what I’m talking about. Her smile makes me forget how long I’ve been alive and all the terrible things I’ve seen. Her kiss wakes up my soul. She’s flawed and loves the side of her that others fear. She’s brave. I love her confidence and the way she moves through a room. I even love the dainty way she eats cake.”

“Not her beauty?”

“Beauty is ubiquitous. Joy is beautiful, but that’s not why I love her.” Atticus studied Krys’s disdainful look. “Why do you despise Vampires?”

“You’ll hurt Joy.”

Atticus narrowed his eyes. “That will never happen. I’ve heard about your wolf being unstable and violent with people. I should be more concerned that you might hurt her… or the baby.”

Krys stared daggers at him. “Fuck you. My wolf would never hurt a woman or child.”

The sound of his racing heart proved his words were aligned with his emotions.

Atticus cast his gaze out the window. “You might want to rethink any plan you’re scheming to do away with me. You’ll hurt too many people.”

“After a few tears, she’ll move on. She’s better off with a wolf.” Krys wadded up his napkin and tossed it onto the table. “None of it makes sense.”

“Shifters mate with their own kind—that I understand. But your hate for Vampires is visceral.” He stared at Krys for a long moment, unable to read him. “Punishing me won’t fix someone else’s wrong.”

“She could do better.”

“Why aren’t you mated?”

A flush appeared on Krys’s cheeks, but Atticus couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.

“Because I’m a piece of shit,” Krys retorted. “Look, I know what I’m good for. Not everyone’s cut out for the family life.”

“I once said the same thing.”

Krys shook his head. “I don’t feel like being someone else’s disappointment. Maybe you need to spare Joy the same fate.”

It was a fruitless task to convince him their love was authentic, so Atticus stood. “Have you finished your plate of grease? We’re late.”

While Krys cleaned off the table, Atticus took off his trench coat, folded it, and put on the grey zip-up jacket. After taking out the brown lace-up boots, he tossed the shoebox and packing material into the trash.

Krys snorted. “You look like a sleeper agent.”

A veil of mist continued falling on their way to the truck. With every exhale, a cloud of breath appeared.

“Your wolf didn’t attack me,” Atticus reminded him as they got inside the truck. “On some level, that means you trust me.”

Krys rolled down his window before starting up the engine. “You’re a psychopath.”

That was an interesting take, all things considered.

Atticus put on his seat belt. “It’s an unfortunate coincidence to share a similar name with a notorious killer in our world. Have you considered changing it?”

“It’s my fucking name,” he shot back.

“Names are only names. I’ve changed mine six times.”

After taking off his leather jacket, Krys reached into the larger sack and pulled out a white T-shirt. “What the fuck?”

“Too much black stands out,” Atticus said.

“You act like the only thing people wear in the South is flannel and T-shirts.” Krys stripped off his shirt and put on the white tee, tugging the fabric down until it revealed a smiling sun. Then his eyes settled on the front of the baseball hat that said Bad Hair Day . “You’re a fanghole. You know that?”

“But I blend.”

Krys snorted. “You blend in like the pope at a rock concert, and I look like an asshole going on a cruise. Did you at least get me a jacket?”

“I didn’t know you were chilly. Want to borrow mine?”

“Never mind.”

Atticus stared ahead and smiled. “Is this what they call male bonding?”

After a harsh glare, Krys flicked his hat out the window, and it sailed onto a car hood. “The only way we’re ever bonding is if someone chains us together.”