Page 155 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

Roseland looks sick.

“His things are important to him. I’m afraid we just sent Blaze back to his childhood.”

“Okay, that explains him; that doesn’t explain this.”

I look to the fire where he’s gesturing.

“Can’t you smell the fuel?” Roseland says into my ear. “This wasn’t an accident; it was an attack. Someone knew how to break in. They got us out, and they burned down our territory.”

“Except, we weren’t all supposed to go,” I whisper back. “It was just meant to be me out of the house.”

I turn away from the car and pull out the folder, passing it to Rose.

“Our father would like me to take care of this problem.”

Roseland’s jaw flexes as he studies it. “I want him dead.”

“I’ll take care of it for you,” I say softly, promising him because there is absolutely no way my dad is not responsible for what happened today. He might be a tool, but he’s a tool that just passed his warranty. He’s threatened three of my pack in under an hour.

He’s a dead alpha walking.

We go back to the car just as the place guts itself and explodes. It’s a contained explosion, but it effectively wipes all traces of us out of the space.

Blaze sits in the back, holding our omegas, with tears running down his face.

No one speaks.

We have no words that can make this better.

We’re in a cheap hotel room when it arrives. It’s a massive box that is wrapped in white wrapping paper with a thick blue ribbon and a massive bow on the top. It’s pretty.

I feel nauseous looking at it. Someone is tailing us. Someone is fucking with us. I’m going to kill them slowly and painfully.

I carry it into our room and wait for the door to shut.

Then, I open it.

Merle is beside me when I do, and she only just smothers the scream.

Inside are the corpses of seven nightingales. Merle sways, and I’m only just able to drop the box so I can catch her as she stumbles.

“Breathe, Omega. You’re going to be okay.”

She curls into my chest, holding onto me with a desperation that gives me a really good idea of who is behind all this.

Before I even open the note, I know that this is the serial killer known as Father. He is obsessed with birds. I’ve heard this is a signature of his: to post a warning to the next victim and play his games to torment them.

“What’s it say?” Roseland asks in a voice of granite.

“It says…” I clear my voice as King takes Merle from me. She watches with a white face and huge eyes that seem to be leached of colour. “Come to this address.”

“So, are we going or are we not going?” Rolly asks, cracking his knuckles.

“No way are we going,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure. Where’s the catch? This isn’t a motivation. Where’s the bait?

Merle makes a sound and snatches the note, turning it around and around in her hands. She studies it from every angle and then closes her eyes and hands it back. Her shoulders slump.

“We’ll go kill him. It will be easy,” Rolly brags.