There was no sign of shadow, no movement to give away a possible intruder. In fact, it was impossibly silent.
“Were you followed?” she asked softly, brows drawn in tight as we waited for any sign of life.
“No,” Jasper whispered, shaking his head. “I kept my eye out for any possible tails. Were you?”
She rolled her eyes. “As if. Give me some credit, asshole.”
“Stop it. Both of you,” I said, holding my hand up.
The seconds ticked by without a sound or disturbance. Yet, the inescapable notion of being watched filled me with dread as my skin erupted in goosebumps. Then, something small rolled into the aisle, a metal canister no greater than my palm.
“Get down!” I yelled, colliding with Sloane as each of us hit the ground. The canister detonated, and smoke filled the air, clouding our vision and filling our lungs with suffocating fumes.
Footsteps quickly followed, so many that I could no longer discern how many or from which direction they came. But none of that mattered if the gas took us down before we even had a chance to fight back.
“There,” Sloane gasped, pointing to a small door off the side of the chapel. She began to crawl, pulling her shirt over her nose and mouth, muffling the sound of her strained breathing.
“Fan out! Keep your eyes peeled,” a voice barked.
“They won’t get far,” another responded. “That bitch better pay up when we deliver.”
We quickly trailed behind Sloane, knowing we were as good as dead if we did not. The door just ahead was our only chance at salvation. Already, my limbs felt heavy. Whatever had been released into the air was acting fast.
Sloane reached it first, pushing the door open just enough so she could pull herself inside the stairwell. Jasper and I followed, letting out choked breaths as we lay on our backs and stared at the stairs leading to the bell tower.
“There’s an emergency exit through that door,” Jasper whispered, pointing behind us into the dark. “It goes through the underground wine cellar and will put us near the forest. That’s our best bet at making it out alive.”
Sloane nodded, but I could not move. I did not want to escape. I wanted to mercilessly kill any and all who tried coming after me and my family. I wanted to feel them take their last breaths, to watch the life drain from their eyes as I placed my hands around their throats and squeezed. I had experienced tear gas before, and as I lie on the concrete floor, feeling disoriented, I knew this was something else.
There was another way out of here that did not include running away.
“Do you still have your gun?” I asked, turning toward Jasper. He nodded once, pulling up his jacket to show the weapon still in its holster. “And you?”
Sloane chuckled, offering us the first genuine smile I had seen from her since our meeting. “I’m not stupid enough to show up for a meeting with two vampyres unarmed.” She crawled toward the corner of the room, reaching into a small black duffle I had not noticed before. When she pulled back, she held a silver pistol in each hand.
“What’re you thinking?” Jasper asked.
I pointed above us. “Two flights up, there is a door that leads to the viewing balcony on the second floor. The smoke will havecleared considerably.” I shrugged. “They came for a fight. Let’s give them one.”
Jasper’s lips twisted into a smirk, confirming he would go with me without hesitation. “Alright, brother. Let’s make them pay.”
“This bonding moment is wonderful, really, but I’ll remind you that there is some sort of toxin circulating our systems right now, and we won’t get a chance to play out your little revenge plan if we don’t get a move on.” She jerked her chin toward the stairs.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jasper said, giving a salute. “Whatever you say.”
Sloane pushed to her feet, stumbling slightly before placing her hand on the banister, and began to climb. Jasper cocked his head to the side, clearly watching her ass sway with each step. “That woman terrifies me,” he said with a chuckle.
Sloane turned, staring down at us. “Are you assholes coming, or are you going to stand around and pretend like you aren’t looking at my ass?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Istared at the door leading to the balcony before slowly pushing it open and sticking my head out. The faint smell of charred wood, metal, and the sulfur of matches filled the space of the cavernous room. Thankfully, the second-floor area was blessedly vacant.
We did not have time to do more than rest a few seconds before venturing a glance down below.
Ten figures clad in full armor roamed the chapel below. Large rifles were strapped to their backs along with handguns secured in holsters at their waists. They wasted no time smashing pews and shredding curtains as they tore the room apart searching for us. The act was careless, one I knew the witches would not take kindly to. This chapel was a sacred temple to them. It held the story of their history and a guiding light for their future.
I looked over my shoulder at Sloane, whose posture had gone rigid as she clenched the guns in her hands. It was taking everything she had not to rain down hellfire on them, for which I was grateful. We were already working against time. It would not take long for them to realize there was nowhere for us to hide downstairs.
