Tyleigh Silver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sanguinemoon) wrote2021-04-04 05:02 pm
sanguinemoon) wrote2021-04-04 05:02 pm
i can't help this awful energy goddamn right you should be scared of me
srry to hear that ty i rly am. we raided another warehouse full of aconite weapons. still no line on the manufac. will keep u updated
Tyleigh read the message from Daisy Johnson a few times before she sighed softly and swiped off the text app. Three of their pack had fallen victim to the Watchdogs in the last month, and the Wayward Daughter was suffering troubles of their own. Once the Culling had declared war, it seemed, they hadn't pulled any punches.
On a hum, she stood up and stretched, brushed the blades of grass off the seat of her ripped and grease-stained jeans. Her gaze was still tipped down at her phone, and she wiggled it slightly this way and that, trying to decide if she wanted to bother Terry on his day off when all she really wanted was the comfort of his voice. She was...still keeping her distance. Still trying to figure out her feelings and how it would work, if she gave into what she wanted most. The Haze had been so curiously mild since she became Alpha. Maybe...maybe this was how it was meant to be, how the curse would break. If she bore the burden of the unrequited love their ancestors didn't try hard enough to resist.
She sensed the danger with her curious sixth sense before a sound or smell ever reached her. Enemies. Too many of them. She followed her first instinct, which was to turn and run for her grandparents' house, the house she'd grown up in, the house she lived near still--but they were closer, faster than she realized, and they tore out of the woods and surrounded her. Four of them, all male. The Culling didn't like to send a female into battle, she remembered Tilly Devereux remarking. Sexist fuckers.
Four against one. She was good, but even as the Alpha of the pack, those were odds firmly stacked against her. With curious calm, she made peace with the fact that she was going to die.
They didn't bother speaking to her, just surrounded her and began to move in, their steps precise quick. She supposed she should be flattered that the Culling had sent such skilled fighters for little ol' her. The least she could do was fight like hell and take as many of them down with her as she could. Her adrenaline spiked, and with it came a familiar rush of heat. The same heat she'd been fighting against since the first season of her sexual maturity.
The Haze.
She saw it, the moment her rush of pheromones soaking the air hit her would be assassins. The sudden widening of their eyes, pupils blown, lips peeled back--their cold and calculating demeanor suddenly overrun with lust. They wanted her body now just as much as they wanted her blood and her life.
She should have been terrified...but instead, she grinned, quick and sharp. She'd spent years fighting the Haze...and fighting off the advances of those overtaken by it. "Who's first, boys," she growled, crouching just as arms came around her from behind. She gripped the arm and slipped beneath it, twisting as she went, popping joints out of socket and tearing muscle. While he howled in pain, and gripped his throat and ripped. Even as he lay choking on the ground, the others rushed her, but she was fury incarnate. She barely felt their claws and teeth as she tore them apart as though she were born to do it, a creature of ruthless bloodlust, and when her foot came down on the final assassin's neck...she realized the strength that flowed through her wasn't her own.
It was everyone's. Every member of the Sanguine Moon...if she concentrated, she could feel them, see them in her mind's eye, glowing pinpoints of light. If she concentrated hard enough, she could even feel a few members of the pack of the Wayward Daughter. Faintly, but they were her allies, touched by her spirit, her scent.
In that moment, she was goddamn invincible. If she'd wanted to, she could've ended the effects of the Haze right then and there. It was hers. As the pack was hers. How could she never have realized? How had no Alpha before her ever understood what was in their hands?
She would have stopped the Haze, except her senses touched six other individuals, moving fast...not hers. Not her pack, but touched by the Haze nonetheless, and therefore unable to hide from her right now. Six more assassins of the Culling...running through the forest, towards the brightest lights that reached back for her, fueling her with the depth of their connection to one another, to her.
Penny. Ash. Terry. Her mates. Hers.
On a snarl, oblivious to the gore that spattered her clothing or her own torn flesh, she took off running after them, the lust of the Haze flaring. She didn't know if they could feel her the same way she felt them, but she concentrated on those three blazing lights in her mind's eye as hard as she possibly could.
Danger. I'm coming to you. Fight.
Tyleigh read the message from Daisy Johnson a few times before she sighed softly and swiped off the text app. Three of their pack had fallen victim to the Watchdogs in the last month, and the Wayward Daughter was suffering troubles of their own. Once the Culling had declared war, it seemed, they hadn't pulled any punches.
On a hum, she stood up and stretched, brushed the blades of grass off the seat of her ripped and grease-stained jeans. Her gaze was still tipped down at her phone, and she wiggled it slightly this way and that, trying to decide if she wanted to bother Terry on his day off when all she really wanted was the comfort of his voice. She was...still keeping her distance. Still trying to figure out her feelings and how it would work, if she gave into what she wanted most. The Haze had been so curiously mild since she became Alpha. Maybe...maybe this was how it was meant to be, how the curse would break. If she bore the burden of the unrequited love their ancestors didn't try hard enough to resist.
She sensed the danger with her curious sixth sense before a sound or smell ever reached her. Enemies. Too many of them. She followed her first instinct, which was to turn and run for her grandparents' house, the house she'd grown up in, the house she lived near still--but they were closer, faster than she realized, and they tore out of the woods and surrounded her. Four of them, all male. The Culling didn't like to send a female into battle, she remembered Tilly Devereux remarking. Sexist fuckers.
Four against one. She was good, but even as the Alpha of the pack, those were odds firmly stacked against her. With curious calm, she made peace with the fact that she was going to die.
They didn't bother speaking to her, just surrounded her and began to move in, their steps precise quick. She supposed she should be flattered that the Culling had sent such skilled fighters for little ol' her. The least she could do was fight like hell and take as many of them down with her as she could. Her adrenaline spiked, and with it came a familiar rush of heat. The same heat she'd been fighting against since the first season of her sexual maturity.
The Haze.
She saw it, the moment her rush of pheromones soaking the air hit her would be assassins. The sudden widening of their eyes, pupils blown, lips peeled back--their cold and calculating demeanor suddenly overrun with lust. They wanted her body now just as much as they wanted her blood and her life.
She should have been terrified...but instead, she grinned, quick and sharp. She'd spent years fighting the Haze...and fighting off the advances of those overtaken by it. "Who's first, boys," she growled, crouching just as arms came around her from behind. She gripped the arm and slipped beneath it, twisting as she went, popping joints out of socket and tearing muscle. While he howled in pain, and gripped his throat and ripped. Even as he lay choking on the ground, the others rushed her, but she was fury incarnate. She barely felt their claws and teeth as she tore them apart as though she were born to do it, a creature of ruthless bloodlust, and when her foot came down on the final assassin's neck...she realized the strength that flowed through her wasn't her own.
It was everyone's. Every member of the Sanguine Moon...if she concentrated, she could feel them, see them in her mind's eye, glowing pinpoints of light. If she concentrated hard enough, she could even feel a few members of the pack of the Wayward Daughter. Faintly, but they were her allies, touched by her spirit, her scent.
In that moment, she was goddamn invincible. If she'd wanted to, she could've ended the effects of the Haze right then and there. It was hers. As the pack was hers. How could she never have realized? How had no Alpha before her ever understood what was in their hands?
She would have stopped the Haze, except her senses touched six other individuals, moving fast...not hers. Not her pack, but touched by the Haze nonetheless, and therefore unable to hide from her right now. Six more assassins of the Culling...running through the forest, towards the brightest lights that reached back for her, fueling her with the depth of their connection to one another, to her.
Penny. Ash. Terry. Her mates. Hers.
On a snarl, oblivious to the gore that spattered her clothing or her own torn flesh, she took off running after them, the lust of the Haze flaring. She didn't know if they could feel her the same way she felt them, but she concentrated on those three blazing lights in her mind's eye as hard as she possibly could.
Danger. I'm coming to you. Fight.
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Then, bam. The rush of heat, the overwhelming need to be buried in one another--clothing torn or shoved aside, a tangle of lips and limbs and tongues. He couldn't say why in the moment, because Asher so very rarely made any sort of demands in bed, but he maneuvered himself in the middle, so that he was pressed inside of Penny while Asher fucked him from behind, the snaps of his hips controlling the pace of his hips moving against her.
As they joined together, though, he understood that curiously instinct. Something changed...something turned, a spike of bloodlust cutting through the want, and he felt his mates react to it, felt their teeth and nails clamp down on his flesh, and while none of them were delicate by any stretch of the imagination, he knew he probably reveled in that roughness the most, could take it the best in those Haze-fueled moments. His eyes flared gold as pleasure overtook him, but amid the orgasm was something else. He felt...triumph. The ecstasy of victory. The adrenaline rush of a fight.
...Tyleigh?
As he came down, he felt Penny still quivering around him and Terry twitching inside him, his chest pressing against Asher's back and his lips against his shoulder. A breath shuddered out of him as he laid his head on Penny's chest, lazily licked an errant drop of blood that had dripped from the healing love bites his lovers had left on his skin, tasted the sharp coppery tang mixed with the salt of sweat. "What...was that? Did you feel..."
Danger.
In an instant, the lust of the haze surged into something else, and he felt the word rather than heard it. Asher pushed up, suddenly alert, on edge, hair standing on end, eyes vivid gold and lips peeled back in a snarl. In one fluid motion he was on his feet, pulling his jeans up and buttoning them...even as glass broke in the living room, and something threw itself against the door, splintering it open.
Whatever that had been--they were being attacked.
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It felt like every Haze falling on him at the same time, like being kept from his mates during every Haze, all blood and violence and heat.
All of them—Tyleigh included.
Before he could explain it, he felt the same warning—the same instinct that kept him alive as a cop, magnified a thousand fold.
He was barely aware of jerking his own pants back on, of Penny surging out from under Asher’s body, not even bothering with clothes.
Careless of her nudity, she rushed from the room ahead of them, fangs bared and a lupine snarl tearing from her throat.
“Go.” He instructed Asher, his own eyes already feral yellow. “Keep her from doing anything stupid—I’m right behind you.”
Terry needed his gun—and the aconite rounds he kept locked up tight for emergencies.
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Two figures were already stalking into the living room with purpose, another--no, fuck, two more--coming out of the kitchen, and at least one more was snarling and fighting with the chain on the heavy front door, trying to get it the rest of the way open. Asher barely had time to register the sound of a sudden commotion outside before he saw all four of the intruders zero in on his naked mate, and he realized--the Haze. They weren't used to it, these pieces of Culling trash. Hoping he was making the right decision, Asher ducked to one side to dart behind them and sink the silver dagger into one of their backs, plunging it into the flesh again and again until the snarling werewolf twisted and grabbed for him to shove him back into the wall. Pictures knocked off the wall with the sound of shatteting glass, but Asher merely snarled and launched himself right back into the frey.
Outside, Tyleigh bashed one of the men fighting to get into front door against the outer brick wall, over and over until he stopped moving, then with more strength than she'd ever possessed, hauled the body up and hurled it out into the forest. The other one had already ran around the house, and she followed after him with an angry sound caught somewhere between a snarl and a howl. She grabbed him just as he was trying to jump through the broken window, yanked him back and snapped his neck so hard she nearly tore his head off. Shoving the broken body down, she jumped up into the window herself and stormed through the kitchen, towards the sound of the fight in the living room--covered in blood and gouges that should've incapacitated her at the very least. But she was beyond the ability to feel any pain, at least in the moment, eyes blazing, more wolf than woman, more wild animal than rational, thinking creature.
Mine. They hurt what's mine. Kill them ALL for it.
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Penny had one thing going for her, however: she was fast.
She used that speed to her advantage now, reaching the coffee table in the living room so she could lift it into the air and fling it at the two men that came from the kitchen, bowling them over just long enough for Asher to find his opening and stab one of the others.
Penny was about to dart towards the big storage ottoman for another projectile weapon when a gunshot rang out and the second figure that was still standing fell in a heap.
Twisting around, Penny saw Terry in the doorway with his gun, eyes narrowed and...and cold in a way that disturbed her.
Cold like the eyes of the other two men getting up off the floor.
More footsteps, kitchen--more men.
Snarling, Penny bolted for the storage ottoman, but paused when she saw a face over the breakfast bar. Truthfully, if she thought about it later, she'd realize she felt it first--stronger and bolder and hungrier for blood, power that wasn't her own but feeding her spirit and every animal instinct she had to protect and defend.
Tyleight. Alpha.
Terry noticed her at the same time, felt her the same way, wild gold eyes meeting hers as she stalked towards them. He didn't know if it would work...
...but there was just so much blood.
"Left!"
Of the two assailants still standing, Terry leveled his gun at the forehead of the one on the left even as he called out, even as he tried to gather his intentions into a single focused feeling and push it towards that raging storm of blood and power and animal rage that was his alpha.
He prayed she'd hear him and take the one on the right, avoiding his line of sight as he found his shot and pulled the trigger.
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The final intruder, the one Asher had attacked, covered his smoking wounds and saw his packmates shot, and mustered just enough strength to grab at Asher by the arm wielding the knife, fisting the other hand in his hair and using his body as a human shield. Asher snarled and struggled, dropping the knife rather than letting it get turned on him, trying to move himself to one side so that Terry could get a shot off--
But for as injured as he was, he was fast, and made it to one of the broken windows, shoving Asher into Tyleigh as she stalked after them--more threatening, more frightening and also, somehow, strangely, more beautiful than he thought he'd ever seen her be. She caught him with an ease and a gentleness that stunned him, but when she started to move him to one side and follow the Culling intruder, he held on to her.
"Tyleigh." It was terrifying when she whirled on him, but as much as he wanted to shrink back from the power of the Alpha's gaze, he held her eye. "Don't. Please. Ty, you're hurt."
"They have to pay," she snarled, turning and merely dragging Asher with her if he wouldn't let go of her, intent on hunting them down, consequences be damned. "They have to die."
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Terry called out as she started dragging Asher with her, tucking his weapon into the back of his jeans as he darted towards them to get in her path. He sought out her gaze, fighting the urge to bow his head under the weight of her eyes.
"They attacked us, they scared us, and we need you." he pressed, hoping to overcome the rage with her protective instincts instead. "You're hurt, and we're afraid. We can't lose our Alpha. Ty, look at Penny--look at her, she's shaking."
Which she was, eyes wide and breath rapid, careless of her nudity save for the sudden chill that came with an adrenaline crash, making her rub her own arms to try and get warm again.
"They will pay, they will die--but your pack needs you right now." He hesitated, hoping it wasn't a dirty card to pull...
"Your mates need you."
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That was wrong. They shouldn't be afraid of her. Respect her...but she didn't want their fear, she wasn't like Gunner.
Especially not them. Never them.
And just like that, the Haze and the strength she drew from it slipped from her grasp. She shifted her arm in Asher's grip so she could hang on to him, as her knees suddenly felt shaky, and on instinct reached out with her free arm to pull Penny into her embrace. Since she only had so many arms, Asher reached around her to catch the edge of Terry's jeans and pull him into the huddle.
"I'm sorry," Tyleigh breathed, closing her eyes as they faded from vivid gold to hazel green.
"For what," Asher huffed shakily in disbelief. "Saving our lives? Taking like three assassins on by yourself?"
It was seven...but who was counting. And who cared? Tyleigh shifted her grip on Asher to reach up and curl a bloody hand around the back of his neck, pulling him for a kiss, her heart thudding with the dredges of adrenaline spiking anew, for different reasons.
Mine. Ours. No more fighting. No more hiding. Mine.
Asher's eyes widen for a split second before fluttering shut, the moment Ty's lips sealed to his, like...like a dislocated joint being yanked into place. He'd thought that he understood before, but now...he could see it, feel it so deep down in his bones--this was what it meant to be truly complete. Every piece in place. Even the stroke of her thumb over his cheek, wet and sticky with drying blood, felt like...like something reverent. An anointment.
He was dazed as Tyleigh eased back and turned into Penny to kiss her as well--and his awestruck expression faded with a blink as his inner fourteen year old boy's lizard brain jumped to attention. Horny, horny, attention.
Like, this was a big moment. For all of them. Emotionally. But also...pretty girls kissing, hot.
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Then Ty kissed her, and everything tingled, a sleeping limb waking up and raining gentle pinpricks of sensation all across her skin. It was hearth and home and the Haze but softer and sweeter.
When the kiss broke, Penny’s hands were smeared with blood where they touched her cheeks, but her face was open and shining with contentment.
For a moment, then she was glancing past Ty—where Terry and Asher both were staring with open interest.
“I think you should kiss Terry now.” Penny hummed. “Then we should take care of you, and kiss some more later.”
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And blood...no, that was her. Their blood, their attackers' blood, clinging to her clothes, and the smell of their hands and mouths where'd they'd clawed and bit. The adrenaline fading, it made her stomach turn, and the bone deep pain radiated from the every healing wound. Christ, she hurt. Not as much as she should, though. She should be dead. They should all be dead. None of them should've survived that.
"God," she shuddered out a breath and a helpless little chuckle, pressed her lips to the center of Terry's chest. "I need a shower."
"Yeah, you kinda do," Asher replied with a soft hum of amusement, shaking himself out of the lust-and-love soaked reverie, wrapping an arm around Penny and leaning in to kiss Tyleigh's temple. "I'll call Gramma Gen for the body cleanup. And the Devereauxs. I got it," he insisted as Tyleigh turned to object, waving her off and deftly plucking her phone out of the pocket of her tattered jeans. "It's good practice for me. I'm gonna be on the phone a lot when I land that choice little job at the DA's office." He kept Penny wrapped close, needing the warmth and comfort of her even as he scrolled through the contacts to call Tyleigh's grandmother. He was doing good, in his Asher way, at hanging on to that eerily calm patience, but there was a tremble at his core. "Hey Penny Lane," he murmured as the line rang, playfully flicking a fingertip at the peak of her breast and stealing a kiss. "You're nakey."
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"Of course! I have the cutest butt!" she informed him, nipping his earlobe before darting away. "And 'cause you poked my boob without permission, you don't get to help kiss boo boos better in the shower! Come on, Ty."
Terry, who was still close to Ty, having dropped his face against her hair when she scented him and really couldn't bring himself to move too far away, gently wrapped his arm around Ty's shoulders and held on so Penny couldn't drag her away.
"Pen-Pen? I got her, okay? Stay with Ash." he replied, nodding slightly towards Asher with a raised eyebrow she'd recognize.
He's freaked. Help him. You're better at it.
Glancing at Asher, she didn't even need to respond to Terry--just moved within their still tight knit huddle to lean her back against Asher's chest, relinquishing Ty to Terry without a fight.
"Give her my fat pants. Bottom drawer." she advised.
Terry nodded, steering Tyleigh towards their bedroom.
"They're not really fat pants." Terry assured her with a small smile. "They're just too long for her--should fit you just fine once you get cleaned up. I, uh--I can help with that or not. No hanky panky, promise, not 'till I get you stitched up. After you clean up, of course."
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When that phone call was over, and Terry and Ty had shuffled off to the bedroom, he finally released a bit of a shaky breath and wrapped both arms around his mate, buried his nose in her hair. "You and Terry doing that whole psychic connection thing? I'm okay, just. Rattled." He played with the phone for a moment, watched the little pops of glitter imbedded in the case of Tyleigh's phone catch the light. "I guess it's one thing hearing the word 'war' and a little different seeing it up close and personal."
"I know what she meant," Ty replied with a soft huff of a laugh, letting Terry steer her toward the bedroom on her slightly unsteady legs. "I speak fluent Girl. The pants you fat-ass around the house in." She had a pair herself, some cropped red sweats that made her ass look enormous and her legs look stumpy, but they were like wearing butter, so she fat-assed in them rather than tossing them into the fireplace. Maybe she and Penny should trade fat-ass pants, they probably wouldn't make her legs look stumpy.
For some reason--probably because blood-loss and adrenaline crash--the thought was funny to her, and Terry's remark didn't help, so she had to duck her head to smother a giggle. She was still trying not to giggle as she let him steer her into the bedroom and started carefully peeling off her ruined clothes. "I'm almost literally dead on my feet, Terr," she drawled, pausing to wince and hiss as she peeled her ripped jeans off her hips. "Hankying my panky, is...Okay, I mean, it's not the last thing on my mind," Especially not while standing in a bedroom just reeking of sex, saturated with the scent of sweat and pheromones of her...her mates. "But it's probably, like. The third. It's fine. Just--stay close to me. Ah, fuck."
The wince became a genuine grimace of pain as she leaned heavily on the closest wall and had to bend and flex her legs to get her jeans off. "Dammit. Hurts."
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She wasn't the strongest or most vicious wolf, she'd never be an Alpha...but she had her speed, and she had absolutely no compunction when it came to violence in protection of those she loved. Like her friends, like her mates...
Knowing what the Culling stood for, she was perfectly happy to go to war.
"I'm going to bake Rachel Devereaux a casserole every night for a month so she doesn't have to worry about dinner while she's riding herd on her brother." she declared quietly. "And I think I'm finally going to sign up for those tae kwon do classes you two teased me about last month. So next time, I can do more than just throw heavy things."
Terry couldn't quite stop the growl that rose when Ty hissed in pain and slumped against the closet wall. Darting forward, he knelt in front of her and caught the waist of her jeans to tug them the rest of the way off her hips and legs.
"Here, hang on...straighten up and lean on the wall...okay, step back--right foot....good, now left. There."
Once her jeans were off, he got to his feet and caught the hem of her shirt, trying to think more about her discomfort and less about the fact he was stripping his mate--and the Haze wasn't completely satisfied, at least now.
It made him wish, irrationally, that their pack had that neat healing trick that the Wayward Daughter did. He wasn't an Alpha, but it made him wish he were. Then he could just...fix this.
"Here, can you lift your arms for me?..."
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"You know what, Penny Lane, I'll sign up with you," he murmured, nuzzling into her neck to rub his scent on her skin, and kissing the place where her pulse beneath the surface. "I've taken some, but a refresher would do me some good." He paused, absently winding some of Penny's hair around his fingers. "And I think it's high time I bite the bullet--hah hah--and get a license to carry." Terry might not be here, the next time the Culling sent someone to murder the mates of the Alpha of the Sanguine Moon.
"Speaking of the Devereauxs," he sighed, shifting his hold on Penny so he could find one of their numbers in Tyleigh's phone. Calling Rocky directly didn't feel right, so he found Daisy Johnson's number instead. As it rang, he dropped a kiss to the curve of Penny's neck. "Gen's on her way with some of the First Guard, for cleanup. She is, how do you say--extremely fucking pisssed. Might wanna grab a robe, Pen."
"Hey, hey." Even as her jaw tightened with every movement, Tyleigh, reached up and curled her hand around the back of Terry's neck, pulling him in for a kiss after he'd peeled off her ruined shirt. He wasn't the only one who wasn't...unaffected by the Haze. And he, at least, had gotten to have sex. Bust mostly, he was upset, and he didn't need to be.
"It's okay," she murmured against his lips. "I'm gonna be fine. It's not even that bad." Mostly because they'd stopped thinking solely of killing her the moment the Haze hit them, so the wounds were superficially placed, even if they were deep and painful. They just hurt. It hurt to heal. "I'm here. I'm here now. We're here now. All of us."
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But Ash was right: it was time to bite the bullet. The Culling used them, they had be ready.
She twisted her head as he kissed her neck, nuzzling his cheek before leaning back a little to bury her nose against the soft skin just behind his ear, where his scent was strongest, tinged with the lingering traces of her and Terry both.
Soon, Ty would be there, too. On their clothes, their skin...in their bed.
"Clothing my hide." she finally sighed, pulling back to kiss him soundly. "Be right back--with my phone, too. I'm gonna text Rachel--squishy wolves unite and all."
Terry lost his ability to think for a second as Ty kissed him--a flare of lust, yes, but it was the way the tension bled out of him so quickly through that touch of lips, the fresh flood of safe home mate mine that made his brain short circuit and sort of...drift in a serene haze until their lips parted just enough for speech.
And hearing her say it--hearing it out loud, that this was real and she was safe and they were them, finally at last...it was all too much, in the best way possible--but it was still too much.
With infinite care, mindful of her injuries, Terry got his arms around her, his face pressed to the curve of her neck--and just held on, blocked it all out with the warmth of her body and her scent in his lungs, skin and soap and blood and all.
He held her until his head finally went quiet, until his heart and lungs felt like they fit properly in his chest again. Then he lifted his head with a soft, sheepish smile.
"Sorry--good now." he breathed, brushing his nose against her hairline briefly before he cupped a hand under her elbow to steady her. "Clean up and clothes now."
"And no cuddling without me!"
Terry glanced over his shoulder, and flipped off Penny as she giggled, head poking through the door before her arm followed, snatched her robe off the back of the door, and she vanished again.
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"Yeah, what's up?"
Asher straightened up as Daisy's voice answered his call, keeping his hand on Penny out of habit until she'd moved out of his reach and slipped out of his fingers. "Hey, ma'am, uh, so hey, we just had some Culling assassins break into our house and try to murder us all, are you guys okay?"
For a few moments there was silence on the phone--mostly because Daisy didn't know what to react to first, the assassination attempt or being called MA'AM. "...Uh. We're fine. Rocky's filming, lemme see if he can take a break."
"Take your time, we're good now," Asher assured her cheerfully. "The First Guard is on the way to clean up and Ty's getting patched up--oh, she's our mate now. Officially."
"...Uh. Busy night, huh?"
"Right?! Exciting times we live in."
Ty's lips curved, then split into a wide grin at Penny's proclamation as she sauntered in, grabbed a robe, and sauntered out again. "I make no promises," she murmured, easing back enough to pluck her panties off of her hips and let them fall to her feet, then making a face as the last article of clothing was the snug sports bra she was gonna have to pull off over her head. That was gonna hurt like a bitch, but she gritted her teeth and caught the edge of the tight elastic, tugging it up over her breasts and up her arms. A little growl slipped out, but it could've been worse. "This shower's gonna suck, but I've got...a shit ton of blood in my hair, and it's their blood. I can smell it. I hate it. Their smell's all over me."
Penny got back to the living room just in time for Imogen to walk through the door, two members of the First Guard briefly visible outside as they started in on cleanup. Though one of the cars parked outside was a cop car--Terry wasn't the only member of pack that was on the force--they'd kept their lights off, wanting as little attention on them as possible. Imogen strode directly over to Penny and took her face in her hands, narrowed eyes peering down at her. "You hurt, sugar?"
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Terry pressed his face to the top of Ty's head in silent sympathy, nuzzling a little to leave a hesitant scent mark--it would wash away, but it was more to soothe in the moment than be a mark of possession. It actually helped on his end, too, a little...a more solid reminder that this was real, she was safe, that things were finally correct.
That was when he heard an engine cut out somewhere beyond the walls of the house--he recognized the sound, because he'd been assigned the car last month and they still hadn't cleaned the goddamn spark plugs.
"Sounds like the Cavalry's here." he sighed, kissing Ty's forehead before stepping towards the door. "Blue and green glass bottles in the shower--blue's shampoo, green's body wash. Some herbal cocktail Penny and Rachel Devereaux came up with to kill pheremones and chemosignals faster, helps a little during the Haze when smelling other people on each other makes us pissy."
Penny twisted out of Imogen's grip to instead press right into her arms for a hug, with just a little clinging before she drew back again. It made her feel calmer, saner--everything about Imogen always screamed comfortsafetylove at her in the most maternal way possible, and she still felt a tiny bit like she wanted her mommy, darn it.
"Not hurt, just...argh." Penny replied, the utterance coming out hollow and a little shaky as she stretched one arm out and made a single grabby hand at Asher. "Bloodlust isn't a really comfortable feeling on me, you know? Just...argh."
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He brightened a little as Imogen marched in, breathing a slow sigh of relief. The elder packmate may not have been alpha since Asher was a kid, but she still radiated the regal aura of it. Protection, safety, the sense that everything would be okay and taken care of. "The Calvary's marching in. See you in a bit, homies, and thanks."
Hanging up the phone, Asher moved up to stand behind Imogen and wrap her up in a hug from behind, curling his hands around Penny's elbows in the process. "Hey grams," he sighed as he pulled back and grinned sheepishly. "Damn it's good to see you."
"I just bet," Imogen drawled, the natural acerbic tone of her voice at odds with the maternal stroke of her hand over Penny's hair as she kept her tugged in close, the fingers she curled on Asher's cheek as she studied his face. "You all right, my boy?"
Considering the hellish attack that Tyleigh had gone through, Asher hated to complain, but still, he couldn't lie to Imogen. "I've been better, ma'am."
"I just bet," she repeated, tugging Asher in to kiss his cheek. "Where's Terry, and my girl?
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He paused to kiss the top of Penny's head, then shared a look with Asher over her head, silently checking in on him with a glance as he spoke and reached out to give his shoulder a quick squeeze.
"I'm gonna go help the other officers with the scene--flag down Mr. Imogen when he rolls up. You good here with Penny and Grams, babe?"