Chapter 240: Farewell Gift
The rest of the drive was spent in unsettled silence, as Damon thoroughly abused the gas pedal and wheel of the car. I wouldn’t even be surprised if the tires were going up in smoke from the friction of his speed as we raced across the rough terrain back to Fangborne.
Since Damon was at the wheel, Blaise was in charge of looking out for the path and communicating with Elijah back at Fangborne. I could only watch from the rearview mirror as Blaise’s face alternated between pale green and sheet white every couple of minutes, changing as though he was putting up a performance.
On the wheel, Damon’s fingers flexed and curled as he observed his twin brother’s expressions. Blaise had purposely kept Damon out of the loop — or so I caught from their argument early into the drive — and he was left clueless to the development of the fight at Fangborne so that he could concentrate on driving and not killing us accidentally.
"You need to stop making those faces," Damon said through gritted teeth. "It’s not helping."
"And you need to keep your eyes on the road," Blaise quipped back. He looked absolutely green― not with worry, this time. Blaise looked as though he was going to hurl at any minute.
It was with all due right. A two-and-a-half-day journey had been greatly reduced to a simple day and a half. Just by going way above the safe speed limit, Damon had forcefully cut our traveling time by nearly half. We had only stopped once for a short toilet break and gas refill. Damon was unwilling to relent for anything else.
At least his efforts — and our suffering — weren’t in vain. The woods around us were starting to become increasingly familiar and within no time at all, I could spot Fangborne’s borders up a short distance ahead.
"I am going to―" Blaise stopped short, causing me to brace my nose for the smell of bile, thinking that he was going to hurl.
However, thankfully, that wasn’t the case. He had a hand at his temple, his eyebrows furrowed as his lips pursed into a tight line.
"What is it?" Damon asked, sparing just half a second to glance at Blaise before turning his eyes back to the road ahead. "We’re almost back. Ask them to hang on for a while longer."
"It’s not that," Blaise said. His finger slowly left his head as he looked forward. Our eyes met for a brief second but it didn’t last. Blaise keenly stared at Fangborne. "They retreated."
"What?!" Damon burst out.
The car swerved violently along with his outburst, and I quickly gripped the back of their seats in panic. Profanities flew from Blaise’s lip, and the moment Damon steadied the vehicle once more, he received a slap to the back of his head, courtesy of his younger brother.
"Are you trying to kill us before the hunters do?!" Blaise shrieked, the thwack of his hand connecting with the back of Damon’s skull ringing through the car.
"Ouch, fuck!" Damon cussed. "What the hell?"
"Guys, watch it!" I yelled just as Damon slammed the brakes.
The car skidded a bit, the screech of the tires mixing with the crunch of the fallen flora resounding. When the vehicle finally came to a stop, we were just inches away from the border― or at least, what was left of it.
Ever since my escape attempt, Damon had the borders reinforced with wires and walls. Yet, there were holes everywhere in the defenses, and fallen debris scattered across the floor. Even the gate that would allow bigger vehicles and groups in and out of Fangborne had been completely mowed down.
If Damon had driven on at full speed, we probably wouldn’t have collided with anything more than the bigger chunks of stone at worst.
"This is... worse than I thought..." Blaise trailed off, frowning as Damon shifted the gears and continued to drive once more.
We all looked out of the window in silence, observing the smoking outer huts and the lifeless streets. The outer lands of Fangborne were more like mini villages, but even so, it was usually bustling with life. This was barren, empty, and dead.
Thankfully, we didn’t come across any dead bodies.
Slowly, House Sirius came into view. The gates were left right open and Damon simply drove in, parking the car haphazardly to one side. There were warriors patrolling the area the closer we got to the central area, and they allowed us through without a second glance. If anything, they seemed more preoccupied with looking through the grassy plains than us.
Elijah was right there to greet us when we got out of the car.
"What the fuck happened here?" Damon spat out as soon as he got out, slamming the door shut behind him as he marched forward.
"Wait, Alpha, be careful―"
Elijah’s warning came a little too late. Damon’s shoes landed straight on something glistening on the grass and he recoiled immediately, hissing in pain.
Elijah sighed. "I tried to warn you," he said.
Damon reached down, and to our surprise, he plucked a small thumbtack right from the sole of his shoe. It reflected the light of the late afternoon sun, shining as Damon moved it back and forth to look at it. His thumb and index finger were quickly turning red, and by the strange — but soft — sizzling sound that came from it, there was no need to guess what material the thumbtacks were made of.
"Gifts," Elijah explained when Damon threw him a scathing, questioning look, "from our recent visitors."
"How bad was the damage?" Blaise asked.
"As per the last report," Elijah said. "No casualties. About fifty or so injured. Mildly, thank the Goddess. Add another ten or so who stepped on these thumbtacks. That was how we found out the hunters had decided to leave us a farewell present when they left."
"Childish," Damon said with a sneer. He stuffed the small thumbtack safely in the pocket of his jeans, careful not to let it scratch his skin. With the size of it and the thickness of his clothes, the silver couldn’t be felt.
"They could’ve left tens of thousands of those everywhere," I said, hissing a cold gasp of air. "It won’t be easy looking through the grass for them."
"This is worse than I thought," Blaise said, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. "How are we going to get rid of all of them? It’s one thing for us to step on it, and another entirely if a pup happens to fall right on one."
"Those slimy bloodsuckers and no-good hunters," Damon muttered under his breath. "I ought to raze them to the ground."
