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Because they were out there.
Reaching to her ear, she gave a tap to the earbud communication device she wore and waited for the return tap from Ethan and Duke.
Nothing. Which didn’t mean they weren’t capable; it could just mean they were waiting, watching, and unwilling to move enough to tap the device.
Or it could mean they were tracking a problem.
Careful to keep the move from Bliss, she slid the assault rifle to her chest, her finger moving close to the trigger.
“Bliss, stay low and get in the hall. Now,” Angel ordered her, keeping her voice low.
Bliss didn’t argue or demand explanations. She slid from the chair to the floor and quickly crawled to the hall.
“Chaya, join her.” She could feel it now, that veil of complete emotionlessness. The hardening of the shields around her soul, the determination to kill rather than be killed or have those she was protecting killed.
“You join her.” Chaya’s tone was identical.
There was no way she was going to be able to convince her mother to get in that safe room.
“If they hit, once Bliss is secure, get to my room,” Chaya told her. “We have a reasonably safe exit from the house.”
Angel’s finger slid to the trigger.
The walls were secured against most incoming gunfire, but not the windows. They’d try to shock with taking the windows out first, then they’d come through the door. If they’d been watching the house as she suspected then they knew the kitchen was the central gathering point of the house.
“Pull back to the hall,” Angel told her. “Once they hit, it’s going to be hard and fast. I can’t pull Ethan or Duke up on the comms. We have to be as close as possible. Go.”
Angel kept her eyes on the sunlit beauty outside them, feeling the waves of ugly maliciousness coming their way. They weren’t just after Bliss now; they were after vengeance.
Staying low, Chaya moved across the kitchen, heading for the hall. Once she passed behind her, Angel went to the floor and quickly crawled past the window.
She’d just come to her feet when it came, and it didn’t start with gunfire.
“Go!” she screamed as the grenade tore through the window and shades first.
She threw herself across the room, taking Chaya down and dragging her into the hall a second before it exploded.
They were both on their feet, grabbed Bliss, and within a heartbeat had her at the safe room. Chaya hit the palm pad and they waited what seemed forever for the door to pop open.
Angel pushed Bliss inside, and just as she went to pull back felt the force of the shove at her back that sent her toppling inside the room with her sister.
“No. No.” Scrambling to her feet she found herself staring at the steel door as it locked in place, securing her with Bliss, leaving her mother out there, alone. “Damn you, no!” The scream was one of anguish as she threw herself at the door, her fists hitting it, knees weakening as she realized how easily she’d let herself be fooled by her mother.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Bliss sounded as shocked as Angel did. “I should have. I really should have, Angel. But I didn’t see that coming.”
Angel should have seen it coming, too. She was sloppy. She’d been too confident, too concerned with protecting Bliss.
She closed her eyes and slid to the floor, allowing the rifle to rest against the carpet as she leaned against the door.
She’d failed. . . .
She was only barely aware of Dawg’s voice coming through the communications setup on the wall or Bliss’s quick responses. The teenager wasn’t crying, but her voice was strained and hoarse with fear. Dawg was assuring they were coming. Just minutes away. Just minutes away . . .
And Angel was locked in a room with no exit until others arrived. Her mother was out there, possibly alone, facing only God knew what without backup. And Duke was out there. He hadn’t answered her tap. He’d be expecting her to cover his ass and she wouldn’t be in place.
She’d failed both of them. . . .
TWENTY-ONE
