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“I was wondering if you could help me for a moment,” he said.
Sure. Maybe he was legit, or maybe he was a crazy ra**st who would take her back to his commune.
But at least that didn’t sound like the way a social worker would lead off. “Yeah, what kind of help do you need?”
“My name is Gareth.” He pulled out a gun and put it right in her face. “And you’re going to help me kill Nick Merrick.”
Nick felt Quinn’s flare of panic in the air like a bright star-burst in his senses, amplified when the door to the studio swung open, sending the chimes ringing through the near empty space.
He grabbed Adam’s arm and dragged him to the opposite side of the risers.
Adam inhaled to speak, but Nick got an arm around his neck and slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Be still,” Nick said, his mouth right against Adam’s ear.
“Please. Be still.”
Adam went still.
Nick hadn’t had time to tell him much about his family, and he definitely hadn’t gotten to the part where someone might be trying to kill them.
Quinn was silent, but her fear was a beacon, her shaking breath giving him information with every passing second. Footsteps approached, slow and steady on the wooden floors.
He could also feel whoever was frightening her. Even breaths, pure confidence. There had to be a weapon of some sort, for Quinn to be this pliant.
“See?” she said loudly. “They’re gone already.”
Please, Quinn, Nick thought. Please don’t be stupid. He tried not to think of Michael’s stories of what Silver had done to Hunter’s girlfriend Kate. The torture, the final bullet to the head.
Was this Silver? Had he escaped from prison?
He begged the air for answers, stretching his senses far.
“They’re here,” said a male voice.
Adam went very still. He held his breath.
“Come on out,” said the man. No British accent. Not Silver.
But definitely a Guide.
Nick didn’t move. There had to be a way out of this.
Had to be.
He tried not to think of his brothers. Had this guy gone after them first? Were his brothers dead and he didn’t know it?
Not likely, if they were all together.
Then he remembered his conversation with Michael. They were scattered. That could mean anything.
And not just scattered. Scattered remotely. Gabriel would be home alone—with no Nick to warn of danger approaching.
Chris and Michael were working a job, and if they were finishing the one Nick and Michael had skipped last night, it was a massive yard away from any other houses. Sitting ducks.
Hell, if the Guide took out Nick and Gabriel, he wouldn’t even have to go looking for Chris and Michael. He could just wait for them to come home.
“You’ve already given me proof,” said the man. “I know this girl is innocent. There is no need for her to die.”
