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I race up the stairs of my home, ripping off my pantsuit and kicking off my heels as I go, knowing damn well that I’m going to need something a little more flexible for what the rest of my day will hold. Levi remains on my heels as Roman takes off deeper into our home, ready to command the fucking armies of hell to get our little boy home safely.
I all but sprint into our armory with Levi, hating the few seconds that are wasted when I have to stop to enter my code to disable the locks on the metal door. The second we’re inside, Levi reaches for his preferred weapons while I dress in my combat gear and strap sheaths to every available spot on my body, looking like some kind of unholy assassin from a fantasy book who’s about to throw herself on the back of a dragon and command the fucking skies to destroy her enemies. Only in this story, the only vile creatures who’ll be destroyed are the Dragonis.
We emerge minutes later, me strapped to the nines, prepared for war, and Levi, holding every weapon under the sun on his back.
Roman and Marcus are in the foyer, and before we even reach them, we hear the familiar buzz of a car at the front gates. Roman quickly looks over the security feed before confirming it’s Agent Davidson and allowing him in.
We stand on the front porch as Agent Davidson flies down our long driveway, and as he pulls to a stop among our army of soldiers and gets out of his car, I can’t help but see the unease in his eyes. He gazes over our men, taking note of their weapons as they watch him through narrowed gazes, not trusting the FBI agent for one fucking second.
Zeke reaches back into his car, hauling a box of paperwork out and into his arms before looking up at us standing before our home. “What the hell is this about?” he demands, making his way toward us, keeping a quick pace, clearly realizing that whatever is going down is time sensitive. “What the fuck happened between this morning and now?”
Zeke reaches the top step and Roman is taking the box out of his hands before he even has a chance to look his way. Roman flies back in through the door, and I usher Zeke into our home with Levi and Marcus heavy on our heels.
“The Dragonis have my son,” I tell him, watching as the color drains from his face, realizing that this is so much more than just a kidnapping that needs to be handled with care—this is a full-on war where many innocent lives will be slaughtered. “They infiltrated Sebastian’s school, shot his teacher in front of a class full of five-year-old children, and then took him.”
“Shit,” Zeke grunts as we follow Roman into the dining room where he unceremoniously dumps the contents of the box out onto the table and quickly looks through it, committing every last detail to memory. “How long ago?”
My gaze flicks to the large clock on the wall, my chest tightening realizing that every minute that goes by is another minute my son lives in terror. “Less than forty minutes ago,” I tell him, having to push the words past the lump in my throat.
“You need to think this through,” Zeke says, knowing damn well what we plan to do. “If they took Sebastian, that means they’re trying to draw you out. They could be setting you up for a trap. You need to be careful. Play it smart. Perhaps allow me and my team to go in.”
Roman scoffs, not even willing to entertain the idea.
Zeke presses his lips into a tight line. “Despite the years of experience you have with men like this, you don’t know what you’re up against. I’ve been following the Dragonis since they first popped up three years ago. They’re ruthless, cold, and cunning. They want your power, your pull, and they will stop at nothing to get it. If they feel that they’re backed into a corner, they won’t hesitate to kill your son. You can’t just go in guns blazing.”
I shake my head. “We’re not going to sit back and leave Sebastian at their mercy. We’re going in, even if it kills us all.”
Not one of the boys objects, and I know without a doubt that they’re right there with me, ready to risk it all if it means we get Sebastian back.
Zeke blows out his cheeks. “At least wait until nightfall. Do it under the cover of darkness.”
“And give them time to prepare?” I throw back at him.
“All I’m saying is go in with a plan,” he says, stepping closer to the table and scanning through the papers. He pulls out blueprints to a huge home, not as grand as the one the boys built for me, but it’s definitely something built on the foundation of slaughter. “From what we’ve been able to gather, this is their main residence when they’re in the state. Now, that doesn’t mean this is where they’re keeping your son, but it’s your best option.”
