76) Scared Little Girl

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  •••Jason's POV•••

  "You expect me to spill all our secrets to him?"

  "Jason, this isn't about him. It's about getting out of this alive, and we can't do that without his help," Maria tried to convince me.

  "But —"

  "No buts," My mother scolded, "this is what needs to be done."

  "Yeah," Maria agreed.

  "Yeah," Abaddon followed with a little too much smugness in his tone.

I growled. "Fine but I'm not happy about it," I grumbled under my breath.

Both Maria and my mother rolled theirs eyes at my immaturity, but who are they to judge!

'Your mate and your mother.'

Hush it, Ki.

I reluctantly started explaining our ranks, "We've got the trackers, the runners, the brutes, and the ghosts."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

"The trackers' usual use in battle is to warn us of incoming threats with their superior senses of smell and hearing, so they generally work with the brutes around the front lines," I gritted out.

"Well where were they when the hybrids attacked," Abaddon growled.

"They were working on getting people safe from you. Along with the runners and ghosts," I bit back at him.

There was a pause.

Maria awkwardly cleared her throat. "Well, uh, not to rock the boat or anything, but where were they when they showed up," she jabbed her thumb at Abaddon.

Before I could respond Zach jumped in, "Well, one noticed the threat right as you did and came rushing to tell people about it," he crossed his arms indignantly.

Maria's eyebrows raised in surprise, "You're a tracker?" She asked Zach, probably surprised he's not a brute or something.

He only nodded.

She nodded back in understanding and turned to the table.

Then she decided to look back, "Again, no offense, but where were those tracking skills while we were looking for the hybrids?"

Zach's jaw fell in offense as he gasped dramatically and pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're the one that said they were basically untraceable."

"Okay true, but what about the rogues?"

He scoffed in the only way he knows how, dramatically, "I didn't see you tracking any rogues before they were right on top of us."

"Hey," she raised her hands in defense, "you guys were all bleeding a buffet, my senses were clouded."

  "You couldn't tell the difference between rogues' blood and our blood?" Zach asked, exasperated.

  "No, wolves all smell the same," she scrunched up her nose and made a sour face.

  "No we don't, rogues smell like burning trash."

  (A/N: wait rouges and rogues? WHY IS ENGLISH LIKE THIS?)

  Maria was silent for a second. ". . . Listen Happy, hate to break it to you but —"

  "THERE ARE HYBRIDS RIGHT OUTSIDE, AND YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT SMELLS?!" My father suddenly whipped around to yell at them.

  Maria shook her head to clear it, "right, right, right. Hybrids!"

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