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Scott’s chained to an office chair when Theo breaks open the door. The sight of the plastic rolling chair, and the giant printer/scanner/copier shoved to the side of the room, are so incongruous to the situation that Theo almost laughs at the absurdity.
The thin sheen of sweat on Scott’s shaking chest, and blood still drying to his now-shredded tank, ensures nothing about this is laughable.
Theo barely pauses to check the hallway before rushing to him.
A blindfold and gag are wrapped tightly around his face, but the thick pair of headphones jammed over his ears are the first to go.
Scott flinches violently at his touch.
“It’s me, Scott.” Theo breaks the headphones in half, silencing the high-pitched whine that had left Scott’s ears bleeding, before going for the blindfold. “I got you.”
Scott visibly settles when his eyes land on Theo.
“The others?” Scott rasps, as soon as Theo gets rid of the gag.
“All fine.” Theo moves to the chains, giving one an experimental tug. It’ll probably be easier to just break the chair. “They’re waiting for us outside, so once I figure out how to get you out of these—”
Scott growls.
The chair, and the chains, shatter in one swift pull from the alpha.
Theo glances warily at Scott’s shining red eyes. “Or you could do that.”
Tremors run through Scott’s body.
Theo narrowly catches him before he falls over.
“Easy,” he says, dimly registering that despite the sweat, Scott’s freezing. “Power-suppressing frequencies wear off fast, but you’re gonna be feeling it for awhile.”
Scott shakes him off. “I’m fine. Let’s just—let’s go.”
“Not… quite that simple.”
Scott stops, one hand braced against the wall for support.
The line of his body turns taut when he smells the wolfsbane still lingering on Theo’s clothes. “What happened?”
“This is an office building. Downtown,” Theo explains. “Low on bullet-proof walls, but with a spectacular fire suppression system. Triggered the second I entered the building.”
Scott looks at him carefully. “What’s wrong with—”
“They replaced the CO2 with wolfsbane.”
It’s the same strain Theo had used in Scott’s inhaler two years ago.
He’s not going to mention that.
“I can get you out,” he says instead. “It’s a low dose—you probably won’t even notice for the first couple floors.”
Scott leans heavily against the table in the center of the room. “After that?”
“You’ll start getting weak. After a few more floors, you’ll pass out.” Theo makes sure his voice doesn’t waver. “And then I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
The hunted look in Scott’s eyes makes it clear he’s not happy about that.
It also means he also knows it’s their only option.
He nods sharply. “Fine.”
“Do you want to—” Theo hesitates. Switches tactics. “It’ll be easier for me if I’m already supporting you when it happens.”
Scott’s muscles tense.
Not happy about that either.
But again, he nods.
Theo slips over, careful not to spook him, and loops Scott’s right arm over his shoulders. The close contact brings Scott’s heartbeat directly against Theo’s ribcage, and it’s strong, despite the unsteadiness of his gait.
It won’t be for long.
Scott tenses again when Theo opens the door, but the first two floors go smoothly. By the third floor, Scott’s wheezing badly enough that half his weight is on Theo’s shoulders.
And then one of Monroe’s hunters rounds the corner in front of them.
“Oh, shit—”
It’s Scott that drags them through the door on their left, just narrowly avoiding the spray of bullets, but Theo has to grab at a desk to keep them from collapsing.
“Stay here,” he hisses, then launches out of the room.
He takes down the hunter—three hunters, it turns out—as quickly as he can.
It’s not nearly fast enough.
Scott’s doubled over when Theo gets back, clutching a chair tightly with one hand. The air is soaked enough with wolfsbane that Theo’s starting to feel lightheaded himself, which doesn’t bode well.
“We gotta go now. Fast,” Theo whispers, touching Scott’s arm.
Fresh blood from his fight with the hunter streaks across Scott’s skin, and Scott stares at it, gasping desperately for air.
His eyes are glassy when they finally meet Theo’s.
Then his knees buckle.
“Scott!”
Theo had thought he’d been ready for this, but his own pulse skyrockets when Scott collapses, deadweight, into his arms.
There’s still six more floors. Two minutes before Scott passes into fatal levels of inhalation.
He swears, shuffling until Scott’s cradled against his chest.
He runs.
Stealth gives way to the desperate need for speed, egged on by the contrast of his racing heart to Scott’s sluggish one. Theo knows more of Monroe’s hunters are around, but impossibly he passes through the next three floors unhindered.
Then Scott’s breathing stutters.
Theo tightens his grip.
He bursts into the stairwell, uncaring of how the noise echoes, and chances a look at Scott.
His lips are a deep purple—bruised, poisoned, oxygen deprived.
There’s a shout above him.
Theo jumps the last staircase, the impact jarring his left knee, but doesn’t stop. He shoves through the doors and into the alleyway, faster now without the wolfsbane dragging him down. The rendezvous point is only two blocks away, which had seemed dangerously close when they’d agreed to it.
It might as well be the next county with Scott’s body stiff and cold against Theo’s.
His heart pounds in his chest.
It takes three more strides before he realizes Scott’s doesn’t answer.
No.
Theo staggers to the ground, uncaring if they’re being followed.
Scott’s skin is a translucent gray against the white snow.
Still as a library.
“No,” Theo murmurs. “No—”
He starts CPR.
Ribs crack under his hands.
“Come on, Scott. Come on.”
Theo stops chest compressions just long enough to force air into Scott’s lungs, choking on the taste of wolfsbane.
It can’t be too late.
The past thirty-six hours have been a nightmare, not even knowing if Scott were still alive and he had been and now he isn’t and Theo had promised and Scott had trusted him and—
“Fucking breathe, Scott!”
Scott gasps.
Theo’s hands jerk back.
Scott rolls over, coughing and hacking black blood onto the pavement.
But alive.
“Oh, my god—” Theo’s eyes sting and he’s pulling Scott to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of his neck because Scott’s okay and alive and—
Scott scrabbles out of Theo’s arms, eyes blown out in terror.
Theo freezes.
It doesn’t click until a drop of red falls from his thumb.
Theo smells like wolfsbane.
His hands are slick with blood.
Scott had died.
Nausea roils in Theo’s gut, even as Scott’s breathing calms down.
He’d been stupid.
Selfish.
He doesn’t know what to do now.
Scott’s too weak to make it the rest of the way on his own.
Offering help after what he did feels just as bad.
“Theo?” Scott looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes, blood smeared across his chin.
He hasn’t learned his lesson, because all he wants to do is touch that, too.
“The pack’s waiting a couple streets north of here,” he tries. “I could probably call Derek to—or Chris—”
Scott shakes his head, planting one shaking hand on the ground. “We need to—go.”
Then Scott holds out his hand.
Theo stares at it. It feels like it might bite.
Like he might bite.
Tentatively, he reaches out and wraps his hand around Scott’s, careful not to put any more pressure than Scott’s using to ease him to his feet.
A hopeless gesture, as Scott’s knees give out immediately and Theo’s forced to grab him before he falls again.
“Sorry,” Scott slurs, impossibly.
He doesn’t even try to move away.
Theo feels wretched.
“It’s just a couple streets,” he repeats, like that makes it better.
Scott just nods, shivering in his tattered tank top.
Theo hesitates, then carefully pulls Scott closer. For warmth.
When they get to the van, he can offer Scott his coat.
Then he’ll keep his distance.