The Art of Warren

Forty four

"Trent these guys are trouble," War spoke into the phone as Trent rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the anger and annoyance building up incredibly too fast in him.

He already had a shit day and decided he wanted to see his priestess. So he not stole, but borrowed Leo's car since he lent his own ride to freakin tweedledee and tweedledumb. Why the fuck had War decided to ride off with his mate to see the head agent of the LPA? Because War was a pussy whipped idiot, that was why. That bitch could very well just throw the big blonde idiot into jail for screwing her daughter but apparently War didn't care.

"So you don't know how many people are in the fucking van?"

"I just said no," War snapped into the phone as Trent snarled into the little device. "Listen you need to see what warriors are still there and help them. Pomelia is on the phone with Erica now explaining everything to her."

Warriors? Help? Trent wasn't looking to help anyone. He just wanted to see Arana and then he was hitting the road, but now War was on some type of kindhearted trip and he joined the fucking wagon too, not to this extent though. Helping others? What the fuck. He helped War out every now and then because War would do the same occasionally. That was it. And he hated seeing the big idiot mope around. It irked him.

What the hell would he get from helping these religious freaks? "Are you even fuckin listening!"

"What the hell do you think I've been doing this whole time? This is the most I've heard you talk like ever," Trent complained as he watched chaos slowly descend onto the temple.

He was walking around in one of the hallways trying to get to Arana...Arana. He had to find her and then get the fuck out of there in case anything really did go down. At least she would be safe.

"Pomelia...no I'm not going. We're going home!" War seemed to have forgotten that he was on the phone with Trent and he listened in on the couple arguing as he sniffed around the compound, searching for that lavender scent.

"You want to be a better person then let's help! War those are my sisters and my brothers! Please!"

"Yeah War. I could use some back up saving these sisters and brothers," Trent spoke into the phone sarcastically as he watched people start to rush down the hall.

"Shut up Trent. Go help somebody."

The line went dead.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he went against every flight instinct he had and slipped on his fight hat. He hadn't been paid to do anything 'good' in a long time. Actually the fact that he wasn't getting paid to do anything nice was fuckin with his head but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He would get gratification, praise even from Arana and he would eat that shit up like a full course meal.

"Hey."

He grabbed a random dude he saw walking down the hall and the man screeched. Yelped like a little baby getting candy snatched from him. "Unhand me!"

"Shut up nobody is tryna hurt you," Trent snapped as he let up on how tight he was holding the mans robes. "Who's in charge of security here? Bring me to them. Then I want you to tell me where Arana is."

The man's bushy eyebrows drew together and he seemed to be contemplating his fight or flight reflexes. "I'm a...warrior sent here to protect you guys. Just got here and I need some information. You gonna help me or not?" He definitely wasn't a warrior but War technically told him to help protect these weak wolves. He didn't answer to fucking War of all people but he was going to help with this request.