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“Control”—PuddleofMudd
Trying to keep an eye on the road and an eye on the birds above that at times seemed to forget I was in a fucking car and couldn’t cut corners like they could, I tried not to wreck. I was on edge for so many reasons, and my nerves were shredded. For one, I hated being in a cage. I’d have been more comfortable on my bike, but Niara had been right. Because despite the turmoil that churned in my guts at the thought, Sloane may not be in any condition to ride.
I told myself each turn brought me closer to her. I had to believe I would make it in time. The minutes that ticked by as I drove seemed to drag on forever.
“What the fuck?” I muttered when I saw another bird fly at them, then swoop under their grouping and around to the front. When the rest followed, I realized we probably weren’t far.
When I made the next turn, I cursed under my breath. The trees made a canopy over the street, and the fucking birds were nowhere to be seen. Slowly, I drove down the road studying each red-brick house I passed for a clue. Jesus Christ, there were so many. When I reached the end of the road, I wondered if Voodoo might possibly be wrong.
Another pass gave me nothing. Where the fuck were the goddamn hawks?
Until I reached the other end of the road and noticed the bright flowers in front of the last red-brick home. Something clicked in my head, and I whipped around in the intersection and went back down for a third pass.
There.
I slowed to a crawl before I stopped altogether. With narrowed eyes, I studied the home in front of me, then glanced down the street. It was a beautiful older neighborhood, with pristine kept lawns and homes, but the one in front of me was different.
No flowers.
Only large decorative rocks that sat on a rock bed in earthy hues.
Great, now you’re basing your assumptions on something that sounds like it’s from a HGTV show.
No one peeked out that I could tell. Quiet as I could, I pulled over across the street and parked. Trying to see if there was anyone witnessing me, I cautiously got out and walked up to the brick home.
I almost shit my pants when a big-ass bird dove in front of me.
“Yeah, thanks. Now you show up. I’ve cruised this fucking street twice.”
It screeched at me, and I flipped it off, though I doubted it saw me since it flew into the backyard. Hoping it was signaling me to head that way, I followed. Sticking to the growing shadows, I snuck around the house, passing the detached garage. A quick glance in the window showed a dark-colored SUV. It looked like the one that had chased us that first night.
The sun was going down, allowing me to see there were no lights on downstairs. At least not in the rooms I passed. Once I reached the backyard, I pulled on my leather riding gloves. As I did, I noticed an attic room that looked like it had what appeared to be candlelight creating a flickering, warm light that shone from the windows. I tried the back door.
“Need help with that?” a voice said from behind me. Spinning, I struck out, but my fist met with nothing but air as Evan ducked.
“You fucker,” I whispered. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”
A smug grin lifted the corners of his mouth I wanted to bury my fist in.
“Let’s go in and get your woman before it’s too late,” he murmured. The rest of his avian crew stepped out of the shadows at the back of the yard.
I shook my head. “She’s not my woman,” I muttered.
“Lie to yourself if you want,” he replied flippantly.
I wasn’t prepared to argue with him, because I didn’t want to analyze my feelings. My jaw clenched, and I returned my attention to the door. Undeterred that it was locked, I pulled out my wallet, then removed the slim silver tools I never left home without. In no time, I had the door open and silently slipped into the house.
One of them remained outside as a lookout. The other three followed me in, bare feet padding silently on the floor. The door closed without a sound once the last was through, and we walked into the kitchen. No personal items littered the counters, no family pictures on the walls, nothing cluttering up the front of the fridge, nor were there any other personalized touches in the house.
“It’s an Airbnb,” Evan whispered, eerily seeming to read my mind.
Though I glared at him, what he said made sense. Especially if they were trying to stay away from their own residence or avoid hotels that would have a lot of traffic.
A scream had me moving as fast as I could without tipping anyone off that I was there. My little birds stealthily followed. What I wouldn’t have given to have Ghost with us on this one. Listening at the bottom of the stairs, I pulled out my pistol, dug the suppressor from my pocket, screwed it on, and flicked the safety with my thumb.
I glanced over my shoulder to Evan and his crew. He nodded, and we headed up the wood stairs.
Her cries for help had sent my heart racing as I prayed I’d get there before they did irreparable damage. God knew what was happening, but I hoped her screams covered the sound of my boots on the treads as I moved up them two at a time.
