Page 56 of Devour

We’ve done this before to bring home Sloane Sinclair. We know what we’re looking for.

The room is quiet except for the sound of keyboards and pages turning. That’s how we work. No music and no talking, unless someone finds something.

I scroll through various names. One of the girls is a distant relation to the Mercer family. Cain Mercer was a Talon who disappeared a few years ago. He was tight with the Sinclairs, but played by his own rules. He’s the only Talon I know of who removed his piercings after they were given. No rule says you can’t, but that’s the kind of shit that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Kase pushes back from his station. “I’ve got six women on my list connected to Raven families. Three of them are distant cousins of former Talons. There are names in here we definitely know.”

“Same here.” Priest doesn’t look up. “Four of mine have distant relation connections to Raven families. Two others are from families who married into the Ravens, but not the primary bloodline.”

Crew gets my attention. “I need you to come look at this.”

I push back from my desk and walk over to his screen. He has a picture of one of the girls on one of his monitors. She was seventeen when she was taken, and I scan the lines of what he has pulled up.

He points to a name. This girl has a connection too. Not by blood though, a cousin by marriage.

I focus on the name on the screen.

David Carter.

Saylor’s father has just been added to the list.

“This doesn’t mean David is involved.” I don’t believe in coincidences, but this is still loose.

“No.” Crew closes the tab and turns to face me. “But it makes him someone we need to look at. And you know that.”

Of course I know that. And if David Carter is involved in this bullshit, I’ll make sure he never sees Saylor again.

“We’ll flag it for Dane and keep digging.” I push off the desk. None of us will say anything to Saylor. Anything we investigate can’t leave this room, and we all know that. But this only confirms that I need to teach my girl to defend herself. From fucking everyone.

CHAPTER 24

SAYLOR

I’ve had almost two weeks of practice, and I still don’t have it quite right. My wrist is holding the knife wrong again. I know it before he even touches me.

“Tuck your elbow in.” Axl steps behind me and adjusts my arm, his hand closing around my forearm and angling the blade down. “You keep flaring out. You’re going to lose your grip the second someone hits you.”

I’ve been training with him in our room for an hour. I haven’t been back to my house since I became Axl’s Dove, not that he’d let me anyway. And he’s made me practice using a knife every day since I’ve been here, saying it’s for my protection.

My shoulders burn, and my thighs are sore from the stance he keeps forcing me into. I’m covered in a thin layer of sweat that’s making his t-shirt stick to my skin. No matter how busy he is with whatever his work is for the Talons, he fucks me morning and night, and still takes time to make me practice with the knife.

“Do it again.” He steps back and crosses his arms.

I reset my grip on the handle and drop into the stance. My feet are apart, weight low, blade close to my body. I pull the knife and slash at the padded target he’s mounted on the wall. The cut connects, but it’s shallow and off-center.

“You hesitated.” He’s behind me before I can reset. His hand clamps over mine on the handle, and his chest presses flat against my back. “If someone gets this close to you, you don’t get a second chance.”

His other arm locks around my waist, and he lifts me off the ground. My feet leave the floor, and the knife is out of my hand before I can even tighten my grip. He has it. He has me. And I couldn’t do a goddamn thing to stop it.

He sets me down, spins me around, and presses the flat of the blade against my throat. It’s not cutting me, but the intensity of it makes me hold my breath.

“You’re fucking dead.” He doesn’t blink. “That took me less than two seconds, Saylor.”

My pulse beats in my throat against the cold metal. His free hand yanks his belt from his jeans in one pull. I don’t even have time to process what he’s doing before he spins me back around, wrenches both my arms behind my back, and wraps the leather tight around my wrists.

“What the fuck are you doing, Axl?”

He pulls the belt tighter, and my shoulders strain. “What do you think would happen to you if someone got you like this?”