Page 136 of Hidden

Dante split us up quickly, pointing Ant, Tools, and the poultry twins toward the back and barking for Riley to take the side entrance and cut anyone off trying to get around to the garage. Monster and I stayed with him, while Rachel, because she was Rachel, ignored everyone entirely and strode toward thefront of the house with the sort of purposeful confidence that suggested she was looking forward to this.

“Rachel,” Dante barked.

She glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“Stay inside.”

“No.”

“Rachel—”

“No,” she repeated, not even slowing down. “They came to my house. Wheremychildren are. I’m not hiding in the kitchen while you all have fun.”

And then she was gone.

Dante closed his eyes for one brief second, like he were asking the universe for strength before turning to us. “If she dies, I’m blaming all of you.”

“Fair,” I said, nodding slowly. “Because everyone saw the strings on her. We’re nothing but the puppet masters, putting her in harm's way.”

“Bite me,” Dante snapped, walking towards his old lady who had reached the door.

The front door had barely made it halfway open before the first Rider came through it, knocking into Rachel as he booted it the rest of the way open.

Dante didn’t even hesitate. He moved at a speed that defied his size, driving his fist into the guy’s face so hard the man staggered backwards into the porch wall, and then everything after that happened in a blur.

Bodies crashed together, the doorway immediately becoming too small for the amount of violence trying to force its way through it. Someone shouted from outside. Someone else hit the floor hard enough to rattle the skirting boards. The smell of sweat and mud and blood hit the air almost instantly.

And then I was in it.

One of them came at me from the left, all heavy swings and more confidence than skill, and I barely had to think before I ducked the first punch and buried mine straight into his ribs. He folded with a grunt, but before I could finish him off, another one came at me from the side and clipped me hard enough across the jaw to make my head snap.

Pain ricocheted through my mind, blurring my vision, and another jab hit me in the ribs.

I ducked the next punch, and grabbed the guy behind me, flinging him over my shoulder and into the wall.

Just at that moment, the back door opened, and there Steph stood, a manic grin on her face. I frowned for a split second before realising the mad cow had literally released the hounds.

Dogs of all shapes and sizes piled into the kitchen, heading straight for the enemy—just like they had been trained to do.

My distraction came at a price, however, as another punch hit me across the jaw.

And God help me, I laughed.

I couldn’t help it. I fucking loved a good fight.

I could feel the blood spilling from my lips, staining my teeth, and dripping down my beard.

“Yes, you fucking violent little beauty!” I laughed again, sounding almost manic to my own ears.

The bloke backed up when I approached, seemingly more scared of my laughter than he had been at the thought of fighting me.

I grinned my bloody grin at him and grabbed either side of his head, planting a kiss square on his lips.

“What the fuck—”

“Yes!” I beamed, pulling back from him and shaking his head. “That is what I’m fucking talking about!” I grabbed him in a headlock, ruffling his hair with my knuckles.

And then I kneed him in the face repeatedly.