In the trenches, Kenji put on a numb exterior - one he wore everyday as the head of the eastern octopuses. It was the best way he knew of to withstand the stress that came with the job. And in recent weeks, he’d been under a lot of stress. His vulnerable side had only ever been shown to the people he trusted, which were not many to begin with. And this arrangement worked well enough for him to never contemplate on changing. His numbness projected a firm and tough exterior, one that had always been responded with efficiency and near-perfect delivery of tasks from his subordinates. Like Sush, he wasn’t liked by many, but was well respected by most. When he was not checking or correcting the western octopuses’ work, he hung around the mavericks since he didn’t know which hunter to trust seeing that Hazel was frie

The doorbell jerked Sush out of her shock and a deep sense of protectiveness took over Greg, who instructed, “Get your gun loaded and ready. Don’t come out unless I say so.” Head whirled to him, she protested, “What? N—” “Don’t come out unless I say so,” Greg repeated, his deepened voice and partially onyx eyes cut her off sternly, though as gently as he could. Greg strode away before she could argue, and was relieved to hear her releasing the safety off her weapon. The moment Greg disappeared from the kitchen, Sush hopped off her seat and moved swiftly to the wall partitioning the kitchen from the living room, making sure she had a goo

The wooden cottage seemed normal enough from afar with its moldy brick walls, thatched roof, and casement windows. Narrow trees, bushes, and shrubs grew all around. Luscious grass covered the land, save for a stone path from the entrance door to the wooden gate. The lights went off about thirty minutes before Greg, Sush, and the others arrived. The watchers reported that no one came out. And everyone had been smart enough not to suggest that the Robinsons may be taking a nap since it had hardly been four hours since they were up. But the stillness was unsettling. Greg grew impatient when nothing happened for the next thirty minutes, and ordered Baxter to send in a drone - one in the shape of a firefly that flew to the window, where its cameras caught nothing, then glided to the front door, sneaking in through the gap. Despite the gloomy weather outside, it was still bright enough for the drone to spy without needing to turn on its torch. On every maverick’s phone, they watched the f

Several things happened within the next few seconds: a stone-faced Mrs. Robinson aiming at Greg and pulling the trigger to discharge the oleander bullet, Sush yelling at everyone to take cover while she herself attempted to pull Greg off Hazel, and Greg using Hazel as a human shield as the bullet scraped across her shoulder while he angled away before he saw Mr. Robinson aimed at Sush at the same time his claws scratched across Hazel’s chest, tearing through her shirt and bulletproof vest underneath. The initial plan was to kill the orange-headed nuisance as painfully as time allowed him to, and the smell of her blood had been a good start, but time clearly didn’t offer him that luxury to do more at the moment. The gun aimed at his octopus took priority.  Greg wrapped Sush and rolled themselves out of the way as the

As the rogue wolf howled in pain and fury, leaping around and shaking his head, trying to get the arrow out but couldn’t, another one lunged at Sush while her hands groped around for another branch and this one went through the rogue lycan’s throat. She rolled away and saw that the tip protruding from the fallen creature’s nape also had a pointed tip of an arrow. It was Greg’s snarl - when he pushed his opponent down with every bit of strength he could muster - that pulled Sush’s attention away from the rogues she killed without fully comprehending how. Greg was too caught up in snapping the neck of the one below him to notice another rogue lycan lunging at him from behind, claws out and ready. Sush picked out another random branch without so much as a look, and used her full body weight to knock the rog