Halo's account
I woke to the metallic scent of blood. My heart pounded, and my hands were bound behind me. Groaning, I struggled against the restraints, blinking away the haze clouding my vision. I was in a small, dark room, and I could feel the hum of an engine beneath me. We were still moving, but now in a different vehicle.
Jokel sat across from me. "Nice of you to join the party," he muttered, blood smeared across his mouth. "I almost thought you were enjoying a little nap amidst all this luxury."
Ignoring him, I asked, "Where are they taking us?"
Before he could answer, the van screeched to a halt, and the doors slammed open. A harsh, rough hand yanked me out, and the world blurred again.
I hit the ground hard, but there was no time to recover. Guns were trained on us from all sides, masked figures barking orders. I glanced at Jokel—his lips curled in a snarl, fists tightening—but he managed to stay quiet.
One of the captors stepped forward. "Where is the White Leopard, Haloquin?" the small man sneered, his voice cold and sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension.
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to tell the truth. "I don't know," I lied, the words tasting bitter. I couldn't afford to give them anything. Ever.
What unsettled me more was the fact that this man knew my alias, Haloquin. Only those who had encountered my blade knew that name, and most believed my father was the White Leopard. But what alarmed me was that Jokel didn't seem surprised to know I was the infamous Haloquin, often mistaken for Harlequin and misgendered.
Jokel sneered. "He's lying."
"Shut up," I snapped, but it was too late. The man nodded to two henchmen, who grabbed Jokel and dragged him toward a steel door.
"I'm not playing games, Haloquin," the man growled. "Answer my question, or he dies."
"Do what you want. He's worthless to me," I yelled.
The man pressed a gun to Jokel's temple. "Last chance."
I should've kept my mouth shut, and let him die. He was worth nothing to me. But that wasn't entirely true, was it? My heart pounded faster, betraying me as I met his eyes—calm, defiant, almost daring me to care. Jokel's lips curled into a mocking smile as if death itself amused him. That bastard didn't even flinch...
I gritted my teeth and gave in. "I am the new White Leopard. Ask me for whatever you want, and I'll grant it!"
The man immediately let Jokel go, pushing him to the ground. "That was all I wanted to hear," he said. A chair was brought to him, and he sat. "I apologize to both of you, especially Jokel, for the gun and other harassment tonight." He seemed calmer now, more calculating.
But Jokel wasn't buying it. As always, he was seething, glaring at the man with rage in his chest. "You better fucking kill me, because if you don't—"
"L'Ordine Nero will come for me," the man interrupted with a chuckle. "I know your clan repays kindness, no matter how small, so I'm well aware you'll come for me. But," he paused, stressing the word, "alliances change everything, don't they? We could be colleagues, and you'd forget all about tonight, wouldn't you?" His voice dripped with false warmth, a predator cloaked in sheep's clothing.
"What are you talking about?" I growled.
"The Lord of the Skies wants this country. From what I see, you two are among its strongest pillars. With you by his side, things would be much easier."
Jokel burst into laughter, amused by the man's audacity. I was amused too, but at the same time, my interest was piqued. First, we were kidnapped, and now we learned that the Lord of the Skies, one of the most powerful lords—was behind it. And he dared to venture into territory that wasn't his? Something was off.
"Come closer," Jokel said to the small man. When he leaned in, Jokel headbutted him hard, breaking his mask and nose. "Tell your lord that the King of the South says he should fuck himself hard in the ass."
Before the man could react, a thunderous explosion ripped through the building, sending shockwaves that knocked us to the ground. The air filled with dust and chaos as the masked figures scrambled for cover. Through the smoke, gunfire erupted. Our people were here for us.
I didn't hesitate. I launched myself at the nearest captor, using the chaos to my advantage. In seconds, I had his gun and, without a second thought, shot him, despite my hands still being bound. Jokel was already on his feet, fists flying. He had somehow freed himself.
Amidst the commotion, the masked man slipped away through a door, but before he disappeared, he gave us a warning. "You're alive because my boss wants you that way. Don't make an enemy of The Vulture. Think about our proposal."
Jokel rushed to the door, but it slammed shut before he could reach it. All attempts to open it were futile.
I shot another captor after Jokel freed me, the shot killing him instantly. Adrenaline coursed through me. Amidst the chaos, Jokel's fist connected with another man's face, knocking him out cold.
But it wasn't just the fight that had my pulse racing. There was something about the way Jokel moved, his calculated steps, each filled with barely contained rage. Despite everything, my eyes followed him. His body was tense, his pigtail coming loose, a beauty both feral and heartless. Damn him for being this distracting.
"Focus, Halo," I growled at myself, but it was no use. Every time he came near, my stomach twisted. I hated the feeling because it was all too familiar.
We both ducked as another explosion rocked the building. Debris rained down, and I staggered back, only to feel Jokel grab me by the waist, pulling me toward him as he shielded me with his body. My breath caught. His hand burned through my clothes, and for a moment, the world faded—all became background noise to the tension between us.
"Still breathing?" Jokel's voice was rough, his breath warm against my ear.
I glanced up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. His face was just inches from mine, his lips set in a maddening scowl. But his eyes told another story, there was something deeper within them. "I've had worse," I said, my voice betraying the way my pulse sped.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to my lips before snapping away. "A dead Lacey would be no use to me." He released his grip on my waist and returned to the fight. I wish that had hurt, but instead, it only made me... feel more.
In no time, the rest of the captors were killed by our men. Once again, the look of hate returned to Jokel's eyes as he stood in front of his people, and I stood before mine.
"We should—"
"There is no we," Jokel snapped. "I'll go after the kidnappers. Don't worry. And when I'm done, I'll find your father." With that, he got into the car and left.
His words stung, even though he didn't say anything I hadn't already expected. I hated how much I wanted him to break first, to finally let those damned walls fall. Years of unresolved tension hung between us like a curse, and it was eating me alive.
But who was I kidding? He would never do that, and neither would I. We were sworn to hate each other. That's how it had always been and how it would continue. Even if it drove me crazy.