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None of us skip a beat, running behind her as we shout for her to wait, but she’s almost at the stairs when we catch up.
I hear orders being given before feet sound against the floor. “What the fuck is going on?” Wyatt hisses. “The backup lights should’ve kicked in by now.”
“Wait,” I exclaim, grabbing Ariah’s arm. “You can’t just rush the room, and you know that.”
Ariah whirls around, peering into my eyes, and the anguish seeping from her pores guts me. “I can’t just do nothing, Wes,” she snaps. “Those are our babies.”
I look over her shoulder, watching as Owen, Lev, Sebastian, and Wyatt arrive with Elias, Reign, and Fernando on their heels. Refocusing my attention on Ariah, I assure her, “And we will. Let’s make a pl?—”
The lights flicker back on, cutting me off just as Reign speaks, “Someone shut off the power and destroyed the backup generators.”
“How’s that possible? Everyone here was vetted so thoroughly that we know if their great-great grandfather’s third cousin, twice removed, who was adopted, ever jaywalked,” Lev exclaims.
“I don’t give a fuck about that right now,” Ariah shouts. “We need to go check on Zoey and Aidan.”
Reign dips his head in agreement. “I’d tell you to stay here while we make sure it’s safe, but I already know none of you will agree to that. So, we’ll go first.”
Once we all agree, Elias and Reign take point as we work our way down the hallway. Whispered orders are given as each room is cleared. We’re approaching the nursery door, and I know before we get there, something is very fucking wrong.
Reign enters the room first, but I dart past him, and the sight before me turns my blood to ice.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Ariah mumbles, dashing to where her grandmother lies motionless on the floor in front of Aidan’s crib—a wound bleeding from the back of her head where someone knocked her out.
Spinning, I rush toward Zoey’s crib, already knowing a parent’s worst nightmare is becoming true—the twins have been taken.
“This can’t be fucking happening,” Wyatt snarls, moving about the room, searching and hoping maybe, but I know they’re gone.
Lilah’s body is slumped on the ground, and her neck is turned at an unnatural angle. An angle no human can survive. My eyes shut as I roar in rage. Then, I push down my emotions, locking them into the place I always do when it’s time to be calculated.
Lev is checking the security feed with Sebastian, and Owen is ripping the twins’ room apart, desperately trying to find a clue when I snap my gaze open.
I don’t acknowledge anyone who comes running into the room. “Teams of three or more.” I hear Thomas order, but I’m already moving out the door.
Footsteps sound behind me as I continue down the hallway. I know who’s with me without having to turn around. “You know who this is, don’t you,” Lev seethes.
Of course I do. We underestimated her from the beginning, and that is a cross I will always bear.
Lev and I enter the library, confirming my suspicions. The wall door in the bookshelf is wide open, and the server that bumped into me earlier lies dead on the floor, missing half his face.
“Lucky shit. You got off easy,” he growls, stepping on his head.
“She’s going to die, and I’m going to be the one to rip out her vocal cords after I chop off her hands for daring to take from me,” I bark, running my fingers through my disheveled black hair.
My phone vibrates, and I don’t bother to look. I know who it is.
Lifting my cell to my ear, I hiss, “You should’ve stayed dead, Samantha.”
“I missed you too, Wesley,” she singsongs, and I can hear the twins’ wailing in the background.
I’m gripping my phone so hard it feels like it’ll snap under the pressure. “Here’s exactly how this is going to go,” Samantha croons. “You’re going to come outside and willingly come with me, or I’m taking these two spawns of a whore and?—”
“Enough. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there,” I command.
“Aww, someone’s broody today. Don’t worry, I know exactly what you want when you’re like this. I’ll fix it f?—”
At the end of my patience, I interject, “Listen, you dense cunt. Tell me where you are.”
Samantha tsks, but replies, “The emergency road at the back of the estate. I’m at the end. You have five minutes. Oh, and Wes,” she pauses, her heavy breaths heaving into the phone. “No funny shit, or I’ll take off and drop these brats off the nearest bridge.” Then the line goes dead.
