by Claire Marta
Phillip barely dodges the bullet aimed at him and I just get the knife in my hand in its intended target.
Remember what we talked about?
Dumbest idea you’ve had, brother. And this includes your decision to kidnap the princess.
Ignoring him I toss my gun his way and catch the knife he throws.
With a single minded purpose I walk back into the main room where at least ten English bastards are waiting for us.
Phillip
Everything hurts.
Slowly my eyes open, I have to blink to clear out the blurriness in my vision.
“Phillip?” My wife’s voice. Only it sounds far away. “Phillip? Darling, can you hear me?”
It hurts to move, but I very slowly, very carefully move my head up and down.
“Oh thank God. Get me some more blood!” She calls out.
A cool hand touches my cheek. “If you ever scare me like that again, Phillip Rochester, I’ll cut you up.” She says. There’s no malice in her tone, but I know she means it.
There’s nothing Sheila hates more than feeling helpless.
Flesh is pressed against my mouth. It hurts to even call upon my fangs, but I do. The last thing I need is to worry my wife any more.
Fresh hot blood fills my mouth and it’s like heaven on Earth.
After a few minutes the sweet nectar is removed, my vision is sharper, the pounding in my head has lessened, and I can move my body parts without the flames of pain.
Someone, Michael I think, helps me sit up. The blood takes a little longer than it should to circulate in my system.
“Fuckers injected you with silver.” Oscar says. “Luckily Rodriguez found you and gave you a little blood before it reached your heart.”
“What the fuck happened?” Sheila demands.
“Bastards were waiting for us. We figured. We were prepared. Had a plan. Things went sideways. Damien got taken.”
Everyone goes silent.
“I thought the plan was for him to volunteer to go with them?” Sheila says, voice low.
“It was. They changed the rules.” I can’t fucking think.
I almost feel bad for the bastards we put in front of Sheila and Oscar. Almost.
“I need to speak to Jamal.”
“No way, brother.” Oscar says.
“Yes. It’s all part of the plan.”
“The plan went to shit the moment they tried to fucking kill you and took Damien.”
“I know getting in their operations was the plan, but not like this. Who knows what those fucking bastards are going to do to him now.” Sheila growls. Her grip on my hand tightens.
“Bring the princess to me.” Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed I have to stop to fight against the wave of dizziness.
“Easy, brother.” Oscar says. His voice laced with worry. “When I say Rodriguez saved you from silver to the heart, I mean he barely saved you. Bastards got you right in the neck with that shit.”
“We need to continue with the plan. Damien can take care of himself. Prepare Jamal and bring the princess to me.”
I stand on shaky legs. Sheila has one hand on my back. I doubt she’ll stray far from my side for a while.
Not that I can blame her. I don’t remember much after Damien walked into the main room.
Seems they found our secret passages and were using them to their advantage. There’s only one person who knew about them in that particular warehouse.
Now it’s my job to find out how long our oldest friend has been screwing us over. To not only Lucius but the fucking English as well.
Ava
“What’s going on?” I ask a grim faced Michael as he drags me from my room. Hands still bound, the silver has made more scars on my wrists.
Without a word he propels me across the hall and down into another wing of the house.
“Where would your father take his prisoners? And I’m not talking about the off the street kind.” Phillip asks me the moment I step through the threshold of his bedroom door. Pale and not quite steady on his feet he leans against the wall.
“Wait, what’s happened?” Staring around the expressions of those gathered I know something is wrong. “Where’s Damien?”
“Your piece of shit father has him.” Oscar snarls back. “He and Phillip walked into a trap.”
The thought of Damien in Jonathan Carr’s hands sends panic racing through me. If he dies everything changes. Whatever is done to him I fear will come back on me ten fold.
“Yes that’s right.” Sheila confirms as she reads my expression. “Anything happens to Damien, don’t think we will be keeping you around and breathing. I’ll be more than happy to cut you up and send you back to your coven in pieces.”
“Maybe she had something to do with it.” Micheal chips in from behind me. “You said they were prepared for you.”
“I’ve been your prisoner this whole time. You’ve kept me in the dark and tied up. I didn’t know where you were going or who you were talking to, so how could I?” Taking a step back I try to put some distance between us.
“That little trick of yours.” Michael continues as he shadows me. His fingers snake around the back of my neck to grip tight. “You could have been spying on us.”
“Right now the only fucking thing I care about is getting our brother back.” Phillip snaps. “Start talking Ava or I’ll let my wife have you.”
“You’ve already been in my head. You know everything I do, and no, I haven’t been spying on you.” Attention darting to the red headed bitch, I can see the idea of inflicting pain on me again appeals to her.
Pushing me forwards Michael releases his hold.
“No. We saw the majority, not everything.”
“I don’t know…” Struggling to think I come up empty.
“This is a waste of time.” Oscar growls. “Just let Sheila have her.”
“No! I want to help.”
“Then you better give us something useful.” Phillip’s face is intent. “Prove your worth to us.”
“Newark.” I blurt out as a memory stirs. “My father has a warehouse with a bunker below it. He took me there once when I was eight. He had a head of a gang who was causing him trouble locked up. He tortured the guy in front of me for hours. Said it was his favorite place to work on special projects. If he has Damien that’s where he’ll be.”
“You better be right.” Sheila flashes me a hard look. If I am wrong I know my mistakes will get me punished.
“It’s all I have. I really don’t have anything to do with this.” For once I don’t try to hide my emotions, but look at them earnestly.
Phillip stares at me for one long beat. “Do you remember where the place is?”
I nod. “It’s not somewhere I am likely to forget. I had nightmares for months after.”
“Get her dressed in something comfortable. She’s coming to Newark with me, Sheila, and Oscar after we have dealt with Jamal.”
“And what about me?” Michael asks, a slight whine to his tone.
“You get to stay and guard the other bitch.”
Phillip
“I may be younger than you, but I can handle myself.” Michael bitches as he follows me down to the basement.
“That’s not what this is about and you know it.”
“Then what is it about, brother?”
“It’s about protecting the family. Damien and I are prepared to do whatever is needed to in order to get ahead.
Oscar and Sheila are prepared for the fall out. Are you?
You’re young Michael. Twenty-five is too young to die. If need be we need to be able to trust that you’ll marry the princess and secure the covens.”
“You know I can and will do whatever is asked of me. You only need to ask, brother.”
“I know. And so does Damien. Which is why you are to stay here.”
“But you’re fine with taking the princess with you?”
I stop walking and turn my gaze to my youngest brother. His silv
er eyes are like molten metal. His dark curls are unruly and hang to his collar.
“Impress me, brother, and we’ll talk.”
One of our men holds open the door to Jamal’s cell. The large man sits on the floor, eyeing the cart full of toys Oscar rolled in earlier.
“So, tell me, how long have you been sucking English cock?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His light green eyes fixate on mine. It’s always startling to see his light eyes clash against his midnight skin.
“Oh, but see, you do.” Michael replies as he picks something up from the cart. “Betray us to that bastard we call a father fine, but to the enemy? After all we’ve done for you? That’s just cruel.”
“What’s cruel is what the five of you have planned for this state. I wasn’t going to sit by and let the Rochester scum control everyone.”
“Oh really? See, I find that hard to believe. Know why? Because we’re the lesser of the two evils.”
“This won’t end. You’re a powerful family but you won’t last if anyone ever decides you have too much power.”
“Too bad you won’t be around to see that.”
Michael takes his cue grabs the back of Jamal’s head. He uses the small paring knife he found on the cart and stabs it into Jamal’s eye.
The man isn’t so immune that he can hide the grunt of pain.
Michael twists and then slowly removes the knife. The sick sound it makes has even my stomach turning—and I’m married to fucking Sheila.
With precision that will have you thinking he does this every day, Michael angles the knife underneath the eye and pops it out of the socket.
“Now, tell us, how long?”
“Lucius, six months. Jonathan Carr, a year.”
“So you’re the reason they’ve been fucking with us more than usual.”
His eye tries to focus on me, but I know the pain is getting to him.
“Damien wanted to be the one to kill you. But thanks to you those fuckers ruined our plans.”
With easy movements I take my knife and jab it into his heart. There will be no long drawn out torture session for him. No, just a fast death so we can get rid of him.
“I’ll see you in hell.” He whispers.
“Looking forward to it.” I twist the knife.
The life drains out of him easily.
“What’d you get from him?”
“Not much. He knows us too well. The Brooklyn warehouse was the last one he gave them though. So there shouldn’t be anymore surprises.” Michael answers. “He didn’t know they were going to take Damien.”
“Jonathan is pissed. But, you knew the plan. He was going to give himself up. We didn’t expect the fucking ambush.”
“You still going to make me stay home?”
“I say we need all hands on deck. Go suit up while I pick a few men to stay back. Also, get a maid in here to clean this mess up.”
Jamal’s skin is already beginning to take on a leathery texture. Old bastard doesn’t look so good in death.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ava
“YOU’RE SURE THAT’S IT?”
“Yes.” I reply, simply to Phillip’s question.
Sitting in the back of one of six black SUVs not far from the location. we stare through the dark glass at the imposing warehouse.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. Nothing is stirring. Yet I know below the main building is a rat run of tunnels that lead to the bunker my father keeps as his dungeons.
Suppressing my shudder I rub my free wrists for the hundredth time. Scars litter the flesh.
“This smells like a trap.” Oscar turns in his seat to survey his brother. It’s only the three of us in this car. The rest are in different vehicles, including Kylie.
“They won’t know who we have with us and they don’t know what Shelia can do. Our men and Rodriguez’s should be enough to deal with any resistance.” Phillip checks the gun in his holster. “We don’t leave anyone alive.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“It’s a maze down there.” I tell them as I clear my voice. “But if you keep going left it gets you right down to the main section where all the cells and rooms are.”
Two sets of silver eyes meet mine.
“You’ve done very well, princess.” Phillip smiles at me, and not in a nasty way for once. “I’m sure Damien will appreciate your loyalty.”
If he’s still alive. That small insidious thought whispers through my head. God knows what my father has done to him with all the time we’ve wasted travelling.
“I have had time to think.” I tell them quietly. “I can see the benefit of aligning myself with you now. So yes, I want him back in one piece if this is going to work.”
“Time to move.” Jerking the door open Oscar slips out.
“Good. Michael will be in charge of you. Do anything stupid and our men have orders to shoot your friend.” Phillip tells me with a hard look.
“When are you going to start trusting me?” I ask, as he allows me to proceed him.
“When you earn it.”
In silence we join the group that has assembled outside.
“Sheila, Oscar, take around back with a dozen men, the rest of you to the front with me.” Philips orders. “Michael, keep an eye on the princess. When we have done a sweep and everything is clear bring her on in.”
I watch as they double check their weapons. Then in a blur they’re on the run. Only a few are left securing the area.
“Come on,” clutching my arm Michael propels me forward.
“I can walk perfectly fine by myself.” I tell him as I rescue my arm from his bruising grip.
“Then do it.” He snaps back.
The thought of being this close to my father scares me. I want to see him dead. I hope they succeed in killing him and getting Damien out. One less threat would make sleep a little easier.
It makes me wonder if Kylie is having the same thought.
Stealthy, carefully Phillip and his men head for the main doors of the building. Everyone is on alert.
Signaling for us to wait, the group slinks into the darkness of the interior, like deadly ghosts.
Michael shifts uneasily. I don’t think he likes his job as babysitter. He had probably hoped to be in the middle of the action but got stuck with me instead.
Minutes tick by and my nervousness builds. Should it be taking this long?
“Phillip wants to know where the bunker entrance is.” His quiet murmur is loud in the silence.
“Through the office right at the back. There’s a bookcase with a metal door behind it which leads down into the tunnels.”
I know they must all be in mental conversation. Keeping this organized and working as a plan.
Nudging me forward Michael guides me, not so gently, through the threshold. Inside the interior is shadowy and cool. Large metal crates are crammed on top of each other from one end of the warehouse to the other.
It’s still too quiet. I don’t like it and looking at the male at my side his unease tells me he senses it also.
“Oscar and Sheila aren’t responding. This isn’t right.” He mutters more to himself than me.
Gunfire abruptly breaks the quiet calm.
“What’s happening?” Startled I press myself against the cold metal of one of the creates.
“It’s a fucking ambush and Phillip says Damien isn’t looking too good.”
Glass shattering is my only warning. As the bullet tunnels its way through Michael’s chest he hits the floor, his body arching with the force.
Dropping down beside him I try not to panic. If the shooter is still around then I am just as much a target.
He’s out cold. Examining the hole left by the bullet, I gingerly check the wound with shaking hands. Silver. The burn to my fingertips is unmistakable. Somehow just missing his heart. He’s still alive, but not for long if the toxic metal remains embedded in his flesh.
I need a weapon.
Quic
kly I liberate Michael’s handgun. With the weight of it in my hands I suddenly feel safer.
Attention á Ava!
That voice. It’s the one from the bedroom.
As one of my father’s goons rounds a corner I swinging around to confront him. He catches on quickly, but not fast enough. He’s sloppy.
The blast from my gun sends the back of his skull splattering into the air. Arms flailing he falls backwards with a thud.
“Ava!” Kylie shouts as she spots me and dashes to my side. “Come on, get up, it’s not safe here.” Taking my arm she hauls me up.
“Wait, wait we can’t leave Michael, he’s hurt. There’s silver in the round that hit him.”
I may not like him much but I am not prepared to leave him here as an easy target. I am not that much of a bitch.
“Fuck.”Kneeling she check his wound. Drawing a penknife from her pocket she flicks it open.
“How did you get untied?” I ask keeping watch while she digs around inside his shoulder. Blood is pumping from the wound. As Michael moans his body goes rigid with the pain. His dark eyelashes flutter against his pale cheeks.
The sounds of fighting have escalated. Phillip and the others have a full scale battle on their hands.
“I wasn’t about to sit quietly under guard when you were just a few feet away.” Making a triumphant noise she works the silver bullet free. “There he’ll be fine now.” Grasping him under the armpits she hauls him back. “Take his legs.”
Sticking my weapon in the waistband of my jeans I help her carry him and lift him into a dumpster outside.
“He won’t be happy when he wakes up.” I point out.
“But he’ll be alive and no one will look for him there.” Snatching the weapon from my hands she quickly checks it over before handing it back. “Don’t hesitate to use this if you need to, okay?”
I nod.
Years of training at the firing range and I rarely miss a shot thanks to this woman.
In silence I follow her back towards the abandoned cars.
“We should go and help them.” I tell her. Ripping a long strip of material from the bottom of my T-shirt I use to to tie back my hair.
“No. It’s too dangerous and when the fuck did you start wanting to defending the Rochesters?”
“Since you fucking told me it was in my best interest to ally myself with them!” I snap back. “We can’t just abandon them trapped down there with the bastard I call Father.”
