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Fucking cowards. In this mansion, many of my people were tortured for entertainment. Others died for it. And my brother… his fate has been yet to be determined.
With slitted eyes, I regard the house not with fear but with the steely cold belonging to vengeance. I see you, bastards. And I’m coming for you.
I shift in my seat, and my body aches in response. Yes, I could use a few nights sleep. No, I won’t be waiting that long to come for this asshole.
Orson pulls to the side of the road. “It’s probably best to trek on foot from here,” he says. “We don’t want the crunch of rocks beneath our tires to announce our arrival.”
“No, we don’t,” says Braxton, emerging from slumber with a quickness that makes me wonder if he was ever really asleep. Of course, a part of him never sleeps. It’s that vigilant watchman in his thoughts, the one who took up post when Braxton joined the armed forces.
Max betrays his grogginess when he replies with slurred speech, “Evrybody reddy?”
Braxton gives him a fraternal jab. “Where’s that field alertness?”
Rubbing his left eye, Max says, “Right next to me, with my brother.”
They’re joking, but the truth is that Max was in worse shape than Braxton, although the both of them had taken quite a beating. They weren’t saying it, but they were sleeping just as much from exhaustion as they were to heal in time for this next battle. Both men are alert in general, but right now they aren’t at their best.
“How are your injuries?” I ask, scanning them over.
“After fast food and a nap, we’re good as new.” Braxton grins, leaning forward and planting a kiss on my lips.
Trouble yawns, annoyed by the movement, then settles back in. The poor guy has had a busy day.
My gaze slides to Max. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
He’d taken a solid beating by the creepy asshole. If he’s still hurt, this is the time to speak up. Before we end up in a dangerous situation.
“I’m fine. Just ready to be done with this.”
“You sure?” I ask.
His Enforcer facade softens. “I’ve been through worse. Trust me. We just need to focus on the mission.” Then his gaze runs over me. “How about you?”
I’m still weak. Definitely not in fighting form. My body aches. My magic feels drained, but I’m not willing to wait any longer. Once this Blood Mage learns about what we did at the party, he’ll go into hiding. Probably kill anyone left here and run for it.
This may be my last chance to find out what happened to Simon.
“I can handle tonight,” I tell him. Because I will. I need to finish this.
We all look toward the looming castle. Dread and anticipation mix together in my stomach, leaving behind a strange feeling that sets my nerves on edge. I’ve mourned my brother over and over again. I’m afraid to even hope now for anything more than to find his body, but I know I do, somewhere deep down.
Orson taps his fingers on the console. “Do we have any idea of what might be inside?”
Max hesitates. “I got what information I could without informing the Enforcers of our plans. The mansion itself is sixty-five thousand square feet. The owner of the home is one Brently Cox. His occupation is unknown. He has no known criminal record.”
“So, basically, we don’t know anything useful?” Braxton asks, irritation flashing across his face.
It sounds like it. “At least we might know the name of the asshole.”
Orson clears his throat. “Earlier, I tapped into the satellite surveillance footage and ran a scan on the magical properties in the area surrounding the building. The mansion has shown zero movement from people in the last twenty-four hours. However, there is a cloud of dark magic around the building. I couldn’t tell more than that, because I haven’t encountered this person, or peoples, magic before.”
“Great,” Braxton says. “So we know one or more beings capable of dark magic may or may not be in the building.”
“Basically,” I say. Comforting.
Max points toward the mansion. “Alright, surgical strike. Everybody stays close on this one. No breaking off into teams. We all clear the house, room by room. Mission objective: extract Simon and escape unharmed.” He rotates his shoulder with a grimace. “If possible, without any engagement whatsoever.”
“C’mon, you’re tough. You can handle a few more Blood Mages,” Braxton teases, that cocky smile on his lips.
