Olive’s pulse hammered against her chest.
She heard someone coughing. Shouts. Movement.
The world tilted—noise, smoke, panic blending into a blur. Olive’s thoughts snapped into focus through the chaos.
She needed to buy her team time.
Rachel shifted, and the gun went to Olive’s head. “We only want Michael. Everyone else can stay here and continue on with your lives.”
Olive wished she believed it would be that easy.
But she knew they were all witnesses—and she knew Winterlight wouldn’t want that.
Before Olive could formulate what to do next, Jason appeared in the doorway, gun drawn. “Let her go.”
Bradford smiled faintly. “You really want to test who’s faster?”
Rex appeared beside Jason and raised his hands—one holding a gun—in the air as if to tamp down the situation. “You’re not walking out of here. Drop the weapon.”
Bradford took half a step back and let out a laugh. “You’re not in charge. Put the gun down. Now. Otherwise, we’ll blow her brains out. Don’t test us.”
Jason and Rex did as they were told and slid their weapons across the floor toward Bradford. The man took the guns and stuffed them in his waistband.
“Now, both of you get back in the living room with everyone else,” Bradford continued. “One wrong move, and she’s gone.”
“Easy,” Jason murmured, his gaze on Olive. “No need to be reactive. We’re moving.”
She saw the worry in Jasons’ eyes. She wanted to reassure him.
But there were no reassurances here.
With the gun still to her head, Rachel guided her from the room and into the living room to join everyone else.
Olive sucked in a breath as she saw the smoke hanging in the air.
A flashbang, she realized. Somehow Bradford or Rachel had planted one in the great room. That was what Bradford had detonated.
Most of the group stood, facing them with tense bodies—except for Mara and Michael who huddled in the corner. Trick and Mitzi took the first line of defense. Jason and Rex joined them.
Bradford had his gun drawn, ready to act if anyone disobeyed. “We knew Michael was here somewhere. We just need to take him and leave.”
Michael gasped and shook his head. “No . . . please. Don’t do this.”
Careful to keep her head in place, Olive glanced sideways and caught Tevin’s subtle nod.
He’d been playing with his drone earlier—the device now rested on a table near the stairs.
But his hand was beneath the table . . . and the drone controller sat on another chair, just out of sight from anyone who wasn’t looking closely.
“Wait . . . you’re not pregnant anymore!” Nova stared at Rachel, her eyes wide with surprise.
“No one can turn away a pregnant woman . . .” Rachel muttered with a sly, satisfied smile.
“You preyed on our kindness!” Mara’s lips parted in shock. “You should be ashamed of yourselves!”
“Alright, enough talking!” Bradford said. “Hand over Michael, and we’ll be out of here.”
Tevin’s fingers slid across the controller.
