(Dis)content (Judgement of the Six #5)

I ignored Carlos and reached forward to squeeze Ethan’s shoulder gently.

“You okay, Ethan?” He’d kept himself closed off since the hotel.

He turned his head, winced as he did so, and gave me a what-do-you-think look. Faint blue marks punctuated the red skin of his neck. I rubbed his shoulder, and he reached up to pat my hand before facing forward once more. He would wear bruises for several days, a constant reminder of how I’d put him in danger.

The vehicle we followed took a sudden sharp turn onto a pitted side road, and I fell over in the seat when we mirrored the move.

“What was that?” I said, pulling myself up and buckling in.

“Gabby is trying to avoid—”

Brake lights came on and tires screeched a moment before something flew over the front vehicle and hit our windshield. A startled cry ripped from me. The glass splintered but held. The body rolled to the side and fell to the road, a smear of blood the only sign of its passing.

Everything slowed down as I gripped the seat and stared out the windows. Large dogs poured from the trees on the left. Like a wave, they washed over our car. The roof dented in as something heavy landed on it. Carlos floored the gas. I couldn’t see a thing through the white web of the broken windshield. The back window shattered. A furred hand reached in, ripped the seatbelt from me, and yanked me backward through the opening.

A long jaw filled with teeth greeted me. I didn’t think...I pulled. Hard.

Something hit the side of my head.



The ache just behind my eyes almost consumed me. Only the rhythmic stroke of a hand gently running over my head provided any relief. My cheek rested on a leg, and my shoulder and side rested on a soft cushion. I couldn’t lift my head. Words refused to form as the thump in my skull echoed my heartbeat. I groaned.

A feminine voice shushed me.

“We’re in the back of a van. You have a huge lump on your head.”

I recognized the voice but struggled to recall the face associated with it. Definitely one of the girls. Abby? No, Gabby. When I tried to ask what happened, it emerged as another groan.

“You’ve been out for a bit. One of them carried you, another me. They ran through the trees and tossed us in here. We started moving right away. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”

She kept running her hand over my hair. Anxiety poured from her, contributing to my headache. I took several slow breaths and closed myself off as best I could. After a few more slow breaths, I tried speaking again.

“The others?” I wanted to vomit at the effort it took to speak.

There was a moment of silence before she answered in a hushed voice.

“I’m watching. They’ve fought free and are following.”

“Huh?” I finally tried opening my eyes, but there was nothing to see. My stomach lurched, and I knew I needed to sit up soon.

“I can see the locations of people in my mind. Little sparks. Humans, werewolves, and Urbat have differently colored sparks to designate their species. We’re unique. I’m Hope, according to Bethi, and you’re Peace.”

Peace? That was laughable. I only felt peaceful when beating on someone. Everyone around me, though, loved me. I brought them peace. So, maybe she was right.

I struggled to sit up and barely made it upright before vomiting on the floor. It splattered on our shoes.

“Sorry.” The throbbing in my head increased.

“It’s okay.” It sounded anything but okay. “I really wish there was a window to open.” She gagged.

“Have you moved around? Is there a door?”

Her silence answered me. When I tried standing, I almost slipped. Had I fallen in my own vomit, I would not have been responsible for whatever happened next. Thankfully, I caught my balance on the cold metal side of the van. Crouched over, I felt my way along the seat, which was mounted to the wall, toward the back. Only a seam between two sheets of metal marked the doors. No latch or handle.

“No handles.” My head would definitely explode soon. “I’m going to try something. If I pass out, please get me off the floor.”

I pulled in her anxiety and fear and nearly threw up again. Breathing through my mouth, I channeled my energy and kicked the doors. The metal bowed, and I caught a paper-thin glimpse of daylight along the floor.

The van’s speed increased.

“You okay?” I asked her. Thump, thump, thump; my stomach roiled with each dull beat in my skull.

“Yes.” Her relaxed answer reassured me, and I pulled again.

My next kick saw more daylight, but I also fell on my hip. When I picked myself up, I was still dry.

“Can you stand it one more time?”

“Sure.”

As long as she kept talking, she’d be fine.

I pulled and kicked, again and again and again. The fifth time something creaked, and the light didn’t flash back out of sight.

“One more time Gabby. Okay?”

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