"Someone should. You're clearly not getting it from your current employer." I leaned forward as much as my bindings would allow. "Here's a tip: when you kidnap someone, you should probably have a more secure location than an abandoned warehouse. This place is practically a beacon for every do-gooder and rival criminal in a fifty-mile radius. Also, you should have more than two guards. And better rope. And a backup plan for when things inevitably go wrong."
Spike's eye twitched again. "Nothing's going to go wrong."
"Famous last words." I settled back in my chair, affecting a casualness I didn't entirely feel. "So, the Blackburn Coven. What's their deal? I've heard the name, but nobody's given me the full briefing."
Kevin opened his mouth, but Spike cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Don't tell her anything. She's just trying to gather information."
"Obviously. But I'm also bored, and you two are terrible conversationalists." I sighed. "Fine. We'll just sit here in silence while we wait for whatever's going to happen next. Very professional. Very intimidating."
The silence stretched. Kevin went back to picking at his cuticles. Spike resumed his pacing. The fluorescent lights continued their maddening flicker.
I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to the manor. To Lucien's fierce protectiveness, the way his amber eyes softened when he looked at me. To Azrael's gentle reverence, the golden mark on my thigh that pulsed with warmth whenever I thought of him. To Darius's controlled intensity, the way he'd watched over me all night without sleeping. To Selene's wicked smile and clever hands, the way she'd taught me to feel my own magic burning beneath my skin.
They would come for me. I knew it with absolute certainty. The only question was when, and how much damage they'd do when they arrived.
A small, petty part of me hoped they'd take their time. Let these incompetent kidnappers sweat a little. Let them understand exactly who they'd messed with.
The explosion came approximately two hours later, by my internal clock.
It started as a low rumble, like distant thunder, and built into a deafening roar that shook the warehouse to its foundations. Dust rained from the rafters. The fluorescent lights flickered wildly and then died completely, plunging the space into darkness broken only by the faint glow of emergency exit signs.
"What the—" Kevin scrambled to his feet, his watery eyes wide with panic. "What's happening?"
"Told you," I said, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice. "Famous last words."
The warehouse wall exploded inward.
Not metaphorically. Literally. A section of corrugated metal tore away like paper, revealing the night sky beyond and a wall of flame that roared through the gap with hungry,devouring intensity. The fire was wrong—green-tinged, almost alive, dancing in patterns that suggested intelligence and malice.
Selene's work. I'd recognize that magical fire anywhere.
Through the smoke and flame, four figures emerged like avenging angels from a nightmare.
Lucien came first, his body already mid-transformation. His eyes blazed amber, his claws extended, his teeth bared in a snarl that promised violence. He moved with that supernatural speed I'd experienced firsthand, crossing the warehouse floor in a blur and slamming into Spike before the vampire could even react. There was a crunch of bone, a spray of blood, and Spike crumpled to the ground with a wheeze.
"Nobody," Lucien growled, his voice barely human, "touches what's mine."
Behind him, Darius strode through the flames like they were nothing more than an inconvenience. His silver eyes swept the warehouse with cold, calculating precision, cataloging threats and dismissing them in the same breath. He wore his black cloak—the real one, not my pink replacement—and it billowed behind him like wings. In his hand, a blade gleamed with an edge that looked sharp enough to cut reality itself.
"Secure the perimeter," he commanded, his voice carrying effortlessly over the chaos. "No one leaves."
Azrael materialized from the shadows near the ceiling, descending in a swirl of golden light and demonic energy. His expression was serene, almost peaceful, but his eyes burned with cold fury. Tendrils of shadow extended from his fingertips, wrapping around Kevin's ankles and yanking him off his feet. The warlock hit the concrete with a cry of pain and didn't get up.
And Selene—Selene walked through the flames she'd created like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her emerald eyes found mine across the warehouse, and her lips curved in a smile that was equal parts relief and predatory satisfaction. She raisedone hand, and the fire parted before her, creating a path through the destruction.
"Darling," she called, her voice carrying a melodic lilt despite the chaos. "You look uncomfortable. Let's fix that."
She reached me in three graceful strides and knelt beside my chair, her fingers working at the ropes with practiced efficiency. The bindings fell away, and I gasped as blood rushed back into my hands.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice softer now, meant only for me. "Did they touch you?"
"Just my dignity." I flexed my fingers, wincing at the pins and needles. "They were terrible conversationalists. And the accommodations were severely lacking."
Selene laughed, bright and relieved. "We'll have to complain to management."
Around us, the warehouse had become a symphony of violence. Lucien was systematically dismantling the remaining mercenaries—I counted at least four more than I'd initially seen, which explained why the kidnapping had felt understaffed. Darius moved through the chaos with cold efficiency, his blade finding throats and hearts with surgical precision. Azrael's shadows coiled and struck, leaving unconscious—or dead—bodies in their wake.
It was brutal. It was efficient. It wasthem.
