Project Servile : Defect [Book #1] ✔ Complete!

➽ T h i r t e e n : Two Steps Back

"Rage keeps the person who feels it company. It moves into the hollows left by grief and loss, and turns inside you like a dark furred animal that grows and fills you; it kills off loneliness and takes its place."
-Paula Sharp

Days turned to weeks, and weeks transitioned into months. The crisp autumn nights became harsh and snow filled. The defect gene had no effect on internal temperature. I felt the cold, the same as being human. I glared at Draven as we sat crouched behind thick trees. He was standing in a simple t-shirt and jeans, while I was huddled in a thick fur coat, teeth chattering.

Every time he would look over at me he would snicker then laugh even harder at my attempt at a hateful glare. I never realized how hard it was to glare when my face was frozen. I stopped after I almost bit my tongue off.

In celebration of our sixth successful mission to prevent the portal hoppers, Devon came up with a way to play a game while still training. So now we were split into ten teams of two, each of us tasked to take out the next. A supernatural game of paintball, she called it. Meanwhile, Draven was pretty much a one man team since my hands couldn't hold the guns. Which he didn't let me forget.

"Hey Mads, are you liking my heroic nature? Am I making you feel like a damsel in distress?" Draven whispered to me, the humor lighting up his eyes. What I wouldn't give to be able to smack him upside the head.

"Shut up, before I go out into the open and surrender myself. I'd even tell them where you are."

Mock hurt crossed over his face before I noticed his eyes glance slightly above my head. Within a split second, I was ducked on the ground while Draven shot off a few paintballs at the person trying to sneak up on us.

Covered in bright pink paint was Roslow, our communications officer and helpful dark shadow. The paint was harshly contrasting with his brown, almost black eyes and even darker appearance. Becca calls him Guard Goth which had made Harley laugh until Roslow stepped out of the corner of the gardens like a bird of prey.

Roslow's face was hilarious as he tried to wipe the paint off. Draven shot him in the butt and I all but rolled on the ground laughing. My loudness brought two more members into the area we were hiding in. Two new vampires to the guard, which were actually under my training. I flew through the ranks in a few weeks, now being the Commander's head coach for the inexperienced.

I was quite proud at the way they flanked Draven and I. Completely silent until it was too late. Paint was flying everywhere and I had no way to defend myself. I was quickly covered from head to toe in splatters. Draven was trying to maneuver himself in pretzel-like ways to avoid being hit. The amazing thing was, he managed to hit one of them right in the head before he was tagged. Dripping in paint and freezing, I started laughing hysterically once again.

Sloshing through the snow, I was still chuckling to myself while the flakes started to stick to our paint covered hair. Draven and Roslow were silent and I only assumed they could be brooding over the fact they had completely lost the game. Azalynn, a thicker woman with an almost wild, feline grace to her, had a mane of curls so smooth they seemed to be made of silk. Jordan was a beautiful man in every way. His hair was long and dreaded all the way to his stomach while his face was smooth and boyish, only slightly marred by paint drying to the middle of his features. Half-siblings and connected almost as if they were twins. Combat came easily to them as a team. They were chuckling to themselves as well, though more from Draven's attitude.