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The worst fears I’ve ever allowed to fester inside my chest gut me from the inside, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. Sick and contorted with the knowledge that someone dared to take the two of them.
He sends me a photo of the wreckage. There’s nothing to indicate what caused it, but judging by how fucked up the car looks, another vehicle took them out at high speed.
I’m still coated in blood and flying on the adrenaline of the fight I just won coursing through my veins.
My heart is pumping somewhere outside my body as I hit the call button.
Thorne answers, but he’s yelling at people in the background. “...Fucking move. You’ve got the location coordinates.” There’s the sound of boots and the revving of engines as our security team loads up to head to whatever this is that awaits us.
We’ve been readying ourselves for years, and this is a goddamn war.
“Why were they there?” I shout into the phone. This can’t be fucking happening.
“I asked them to meet me at Noire House. When they didn’t show up, I was able to briefly get a lock on her tracker before it dropped out again.”
My mind is screaming at me. There’s too many goddamn pieces not adding up.
“Do we know if Ky is still with her?”
“No. Both phones were found in the wreckage. Whoever took them knew to leave them behind in case they could be traced.”
“Fuck.” I run bloodstained and bruised knuckles through my wet hair.
“We’ll target the location where her tracker last showed as active. If she’s already been moved, we’ll have to put out further recon.”
My teeth grind. This is hell, I’m certain of it. “They could have her out of the damn country by now.”
I can’t even begin to think about what might have happened to Ky. If I let myself go there for even one second, I’m going to spiral into a pit of self-destruction.
“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Thorne’s got that tone about him that I recognize in myself on the worst of the worst days.
The one where you’ve reached the point of no return. Where you’ve given up clinging to what might be considered normality and no longer care how tarnished your own soul is going to become. Accepting the inevitable…that you’ll be leaving a trail of carnage burning in your wake.
“Send me the coordinates. I’ll meet you there.” Trapping the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I shove a new magazine into my gun.
“I’ve got half a dozen of our guys with me. More on the way with Hawke.”
There’s a vibration as the message with the details comes through.
“Whoever has done this, they’re not going to get the courtesy of death at my hands. They’re going to be chained up and ripped apart piece by piece. I’ll keep a son of a bitch barely alive on machinery if I have to.” I tell him.
Checking the pin dropped on screen, there’s a curdling in my blood.
This place isn’t familiar to me. There aren’t any particular Anguis associations or dealings with this location that I can think of. But there’s the familiar scent of bullshit that tells me I know who is behind all this.
Even if Thorne is refusing to share what he knows.
Because he does know.
I’ve been doing my own research since the first threats started popping up against Fox. And if what I’ve discovered is correct, this is going to be more than a war. It’s going to be an extermination.
Before I hang up, I take one last look at the red dot telling me the last known location of Foxglove Noire. It’s going to take me the better part of an hour to get there, whereas the man on the other end of the phone is much closer. The site is showing in the warehouse district of Port Macabre, and he will be there way ahead of me.
“And Thorne…” Gripping my phone tight against my mouth, the engine rumbles to life beneath me. “Just so we’re real crystal fucking clear…I can promise you that I will stop at nothing to get them back. I don’t care who I have to slaughter to do so.”
67
“I’m capable of walking and feeding myself, you know.” I playfully slap at Ky’s shoulder, who ignores my protest and hoists me—fluffy towel and all—onto the kitchen island.
