The Golden Rule

Chapter Twenty-One: Brass

*Trigger Warning if you have a problem with needles. Message me and I'll give you a run down on what happens*

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JAMES

Using the last of his strength, James chucked one of the dining chairs at the guy with the face tattoo. The meathead grabbed it with one hand and hurled it back. James dropped to his hind-legs, throwing his hands over his head. The chair exploded into pieces against the wall and flew off in a dozen different directions.

"Uh," James mumbled. He raised his hands in a shrug. "Whoops?"

A growl reverberated from inside the big guy and he took a threatening step forward, fists curling at his side. James stiffened. However, before he could punch a hole through James' face, a hand curled around the red-faced man's bicep. "Relax Magnus, your Alpha wouldn't like it if you break the merchandise."

Tattoo face, Magnus' nose flared as he grunted, "He doesn't need to walk to have visions, right?"

None other than the Elias Baines appeared and James grimaced. He struggled to stand, using the table for leverage. James didn't lift his glare from Elias as he said, "Actually, Magnus, let me apologize. I should have thrown it at your buddy here."

"I'm wounded," Elias touched his chest. His smile this time didn't come off as charming as before. It was more punch-able now. Like the itch in James' hand wouldn't cease until he served Elias a knuckle sandwich.

"Enough chatter," the other meat head spoke up with a voice as low as expected. He barreled past the other two, grabbing James by the arm and James winced. This guy did not hold back. "Let's go. I'm not going to be the one that kept Alpha Laurence waiting."

James stumbled into a walk, forced to follow this meat head's stride. He allowed himself to be dragged, too busy soaking in the room: the long hallway and its wooden floor, and again, the lack of flare. There were only empty walls and windows covered in bars. This place didn't feel lived in at all. It was too cold to nurture life.

James snapped at Elias, "What are you even doing here? Isn't your business over with?"

Totally calm, Elias walked with his hands in his pockets. He smiled, "I'm just making sure everything is in-order."

"What's there to check?" Magnus snapped. "Are you doubting our Alpha?"

"Not doubting," Elias raised his hands. "It's true that I've accomplished my end of the bargain." His eyes met James, locking James in with the vocal equivalent of getting pointed at. He said, "I'm just curious to see how this plays out."

Before James had a chance to unravel that riddle, the guy with a strangle hold on James' arm opened one side to a double door. He tossed James across the threshold, causing him to stumble into a large room.

There was a long conference table in the middle and sitting, at the very end, was a man, younger than James had imagined. He might have been Eric's age. He had a shaved head and his tan skin was covered in pale, pinkish scars. Some were long and slim, but other were jagged and thick. Surrounding him were wolves. Wolves three times James' size. They were unlike the Red Carnation wolves and Eric's family. These wolves were ratty, their fur was caked with what James hoped was dirt but might have been blood. All their eyes were red too and pointed at James.

"Jamie," the man at the end of the table stood with arms open wide. He smiled with one-half of his mouth, revealing jagged teeth. Behind him, taking up more than half the wall was this man's portrait. He scowled at James through the canvas.