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“Shots,” was all Killian choked out as I peeled out of the garage.
“Call Joe,” I yelled, my fear and anger making me feel like I could crawl out of my own fucking skin. We’d been so careful with her, making sure no one got too close and that she was never alone, yet here we were. What did we do wrong? I knew one thing; if this ended in her death, I wouldn’t rest until I’d eradicated every last Lach from the map.
“Joe, shop footage, now,” Ky ordered before hanging up.
As early as it was, the traffic was light, and I easily sped through town, running red lights and pulling half on the curb as I parked and jumped out. The front door was unlocked, but the lights were still off as I stepped inside. My eyes landed on the half-eaten pastry and the dropped hot chocolate cup, the brown liquid pooled around it. One of my brothers hit the lights, and I blinked against the bright fluorescence. Our guns were drawn as we stepped further into the shop.
“Sana!” I yelled, moving quicker now that I saw the wreckage of a fight., We searched through the building room by room and came up empty. “She’s not here. Get the family organized.” Ky tapped at his phone and put it on speaker.
“The queen is gone. Mobilize the family,” he said, Joe’s shaking response making me want to scream.
“I saw. She got taken into a delivery van around back. The van went missing around five this morning, and they just found it on the edge of town a few moments ago. I don’t think she’s in Haverden anymore.”
“Someone find me coordinates for the Lachs and get on those traffic cams,” I yelled into the phone. The bar was already full when we walked inside, the Family somber. Their whispers followed us along with a few words of sympathy that we ignored. We didn’t want sympathy; we wanted blood.
“I have a list of all of the properties associated with the Lachs, including their estate,” Joe said, his voice a little steadier now that he had more to offer. A few of our younger members were helping, pulling up every traffic and business camera they could find, the other computer showing a list of names that I assumed belonged to the Lachs and their known associates. We all froze when the bar’s phone rang, Joe looking to me before patching the call through.
Heavy expectancy filled the air, the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the Family held their breath along with us.
A deep voice echoed through the speakers, each syllable fueling the flames that threatened to consume me, then the very city itself.
“Hello, boys. I’m Eros Priamos, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
