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It wasn’t my head he needed to be worried about. I sniffed, wincing at the stench of blood and sweat. He still wore the same clothes I’d taken him in. Only now they were a little worse for wear.
Crack!
The faint sound of a gunshot echoed in the night. I scanned the shadows, finding Percy and his men gone, until movement stole my focus. Helene lifted her head from her phone, then took a step backward as the far door of the warehouse opened with a bang!
I clenched the Priest’s shirt as Riven Cruz strode in, his shirt and face covered with a splattering of blood. I scanned the doorway behind him, searching for his brother…but he wasn’t there. Just The Principal, striding his way toward me.
“Riven,” I murmured, shifting my hand with the gun.
I met the bastard’s stare, remembering all the fucking things Vivienne had told me about him. My finger eased inside the trigger guard. “That’s far enough.”
He jerked his focus from his brother to me. “You fucking bastard.”
I didn’t move. “Desperate times.”
His lips curled, but he said nothing.
“Where is he?” my demand echoed.
I watched his reaction, searching that stony stare for any hint of panic. But there was none. None because he was a stiff piece of shit, icier even than me, frozen all the way to that rotten core. Because Riven and his fucking brothers were rotten, there was no denying that.
I yanked his brother’s head back and raised the gun. “Where the fuck is Hale?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Riven snarled. “It’s all over the news. Hale’s dead.”
But he wasn’t dead, was he? Because Riven was still fucking here. That nerve twitched in the corner of my eye. “You know I’m not that fucking stupid.”
“I don’t know.” He spat. “Hale seemed to have the upper hand for a long time there. I was thinking you’d given up on finding your son. He is your son, isn’t he? Your son with Ophelia, right?”
Twitch.
He smirked. “That’s right, not your son. But one you wanted, right? Just like you want King’s bitch.”
My breath caught.
He glanced at his brother for a second, then at me. “You think I don’t know about that? You think I don’t know about both those fucking little sluts?”
My pulse was booming as my mind raced with all the implications of Riven and his brothers knowing about Vivienne and Ryth.
“I don’t care about them,” Riven declared, glancing at his brother once more. “You can fuck as many of King’s little whores as you want. All I want is my brother.” He took a step closer. “Give him to me and I’ll go away. You never have to look at me again. You can leave this place. Hell, with your money and connections, you can make a life anywhere. Why stay? Take your little bitch and your sons and just go.”
Fuck, it sounded tempting.
There was no Ophelia now.
No real reason I had to remain here. My gaze drifted to the shadows where Helene King had stood. The Daughters and the Sons…the entire fucking Order wasn’t my problem, was it? Not really…not anymore.
I had what I wanted.
I shook my head. That desperation collided with reality. I was trapped between what was right in front of me and what all my years of wading in the filth of Haelstrom Hale had taught me.
This wasn’t over.
I ran now and not only would I be running forever, but I’d lose all the ground I’d fought for. This would’ve all been for nothing.
“No,” I answered, meeting that killing stare. “You will tell me where Hale is.”
“Fuck you,” The Priest grunted, wrenching against his cuffs. “Fuck you to Hell.”
