by James Tate
The intercom buzzed, and I staggered over to it with dread in my veins. He had me. He totally had me, and he knew it. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for my guys... Including give myself up.
"Let him go," I ordered my stalker as I turned the intercom back on. I wanted it to come out as an order, but my voice was croaky and thick with despair. Archer was still out cold, facedown on the floor at his captor’s feet.
"Open the door, Madison Kate," my stalker replied. "Or I'm shooting your not-so-new husband in the head." He drew a pistol from the back of his waistband and aimed it at the back of Archer's head.
"You shoot him, and you'll never get me out of here," I bluffed, choking over the words. Every instinct in me wanted to open that door, but I knew Archer would curse me out six ways to Sunday if he were conscious.
My stalker gave a small shrug. "See, here's the thing, Madison Kate. I planned to kill these three regardless of how tonight worked out. They failed to protect you, and they need to be eliminated. So, you can stay there and watch as I kill them in front of you, one by one." There was an implied second option, and I was too weak to resist the bait.
"Or?"
"Or you can open the door, Madison Kate."
I wet my lips and swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. He didn't have Steele and Kody... not yet, anyway. But if I didn't act fast, Archer would die.
"You'll kill them anyway," I replied, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces with those words. I wanted nothing more than to trade myself for Archer, but like my stalker had just said... he was going to kill them regardless. What good would it do to hand myself over, only to have them shot anyway?
"Maybe I won't," my stalker replied. "Maybe I will. The only certainty here, Madison Kate, is that if you don't open the door in the next five seconds, Archer will die." He paused, tilting his mask-covered face to the side as he faced the camera. "Is that shred of uncertainty enough, my love?" I shuddered at the endearment. "Let's find out. One... Two... Three..." He wasn't even pausing a full second between. I had no doubt he would follow through on his threat when he reached five. "Four..."
I slammed my hand down on the door release.
The sharp chemical smell of gas hit my nose the second the door slid open, and I swallowed heavily.
"Good girl," my stalker purred. He offered his hand for me to take, and I looked down at it with horror, like he'd just presented me with a live snake. "Don't keep me waiting, Madison Kate." His other hand still held a gun aimed at Archer's head, and the threat was clear. Crystal fucking clear.
I swallowed heavily and placed my hand in his.
"Such obedience," my stalker murmured, "so unlike your mother. She made things so difficult for herself toward the end there."
Revulsion burned in my throat, and I gagged. But then maybe that was the gas getting to me. In the time I'd spent in the panic room, the gas had thickened through the house, and I was already lightheaded and dizzy. It was no wonder Archer had been losing his fight. In fact, I was amazed he'd even still been conscious at all.
"You have me now," I announced in a strangled voice. "Leave everyone else alone."
My stalker’s gloved fingers tightened around my hand as he dragged me along the corridor away from Archer. Away from his buddy, who remained standing over my fallen love.
I stupidly let myself hope. I let myself have a spark of relief that he must have decided on mercy now that he had me. But as he dragged me up the narrow staircase to the garage entrance, the deafening crack of a gunshot echoed through the small space.
An agonized scream tore from my throat, and I tried desperately to wrench my hand free. But the gas was doing its work. I was weaker than wet tissue paper and just sagged to the ground instead.
My stalker barely even skipped a beat, stooping then throwing me over his shoulder as he made his way through the garage. Several cars were peppered with bullet holes, but I was too broken to care.
Consciousness swam, my vision blacking in and out, and my stomach lurched. The gas was nauseating me as well as knocking me out, but the way my captor strode through the house—confident, like he knew the layout intimately—told me we weren't hanging around. He had his prize, now he was getting the fuck out.
He carried me through the pool area to a door beside the steam room. It led out to some of the meticulously maintained gardens, and a few gulps of fresh air helped to clear my head enough that I recognized the whirling sound of helicopter blades.
Fuck. I'd halfway counted on Steele or Kody catching up to us on the road, but how the hell would they follow a helicopter? Wait. My necklace. I still had my tracker necklace on... Maybe they would find me eventually, after all.
A gunshot rang out through the night, and my captor jerked to a stop, then dropped me behind some low hedges. He aimed his gun at someone, squeezing out a couple of shots.
He must have missed whoever he was aiming at, though, because he ducked behind the hedge with me and muttered a string of curses.
I couldn't stop the bitter, mocking laugh bubbling out of me as the gas faded away. "I thought you never missed. Looks like that was just wishful thinking, huh?"
He didn't dignify that jab with a response, but I didn't fucking care. I just wanted to take a swipe at him and distract him so that whoever was shooting could change their position. I was also working my jellylike arm into the pocket of my sweatpants and praying to all things holy that my butterfly knife hadn't fallen out.
My fingers touched metal, and I grinned.
That caught his attention, though. "What are you smiling at?" he demanded, and I knew it'd be a matter of seconds before he found my weapon.
Now or never.
"This," I replied, whipping the blade out of my pocket and slamming it into his side.
He cried out, falling backward, and I didn't waste my opportunity. I left my knife in his flesh and fucking ran.
My bare feet pounded the damp grass as I raced towards Steinwick and Anna's cottage, but I only made it halfway there before my attacker tackled me to the grass.
I went down hard, but rolled immediately and kicked out furiously, fighting him off as he tried to get his hands around my throat. All my bruises and injuries from just three nights ago were screaming, my entire body a mass of pain, but it was incredible what could be achieved when there was nothing to lose.
My stalker cursed at me, something about not fighting him, but I was lost to an almost total panic state. Fight or flight had well and truly set in, and seeing as I couldn't flee, I was damn well going to fight with everything I had.
My legs bunched under me, and I kicked out, trying to push him away, but he was heavier than I expected. Not to mention my legs were still so weak with the lingering gas in my system. Seeing it wasn't working, I swung a fist, trying to break his mask or knock it loose, but he caught my wrist in a crushing grip. It was my sprained one, and I let out a scream of pain.
"Stop fighting me!" he roared, his grip tightening even more. Tears stream from my eyes at the crushing pain. His face was so close to mine that I could see his eyes through the mask, and there was something eerily familiar about them. They were an unusual violet-blue... just like mine. Just like my mom’s.
Panicked and desperate to free myself, I just struggled harder. This time I swung my other fist, aiming for the spot where I'd stabbed him. He cried out, and something snapped. White hot pain lanced through my arm, and my vision blacked for a second. He'd broken my wrist.
He reared back, releasing my wrist to reach for my knife, where it was still buried in his side. That was my opportunity. I pulled my knees up to my chest and kicked like a donkey. My heel caught him in the chin, snapping his head back. His gasmask skittered away across the grass, and I gasped in shock.
"Dave?" I exclaimed in disbelief. But... that didn't make sense. The eyes didn't match. I would have noticed something like that, as many times as I'd spoken to the man in the past months. He had brown eyes, I was sure of it.
Unless
, of course, he wore color contacts.
Fuck.
My shock held me frozen, but it no longer mattered. A split second later a bullet ripped through our two-faced security guard’s chest splattering hot blood all over me.
"Babe!" Kody shouted from somewhere nearby, racing out from the shelter of some trees to scoop me up in his arms.
Dave seemed almost frozen in place, still upright on his knees with a look of abject horror on his face. A second shot tore through his shoulder, jerking his body, and a moment later, Steinwick appeared from freaking nowhere and slammed his fist across Dave's face.
"Steinwick?" I exclaimed, even as Kody tried to carry me away to safety. "No, Kody, put me down. It was Dave. It was him all along. Stop!" My order echoed through the suddenly quiet night air, and Kody froze in his tracks.
"Babe, you need—"
"No!" I cut him off, "I need answers. Put me the fuck down!"
He only needed to look into my determined gaze for a second before doing what I asked. He trusted me not to be an idiot, and I really didn't want to disappoint him. Besides, it was my wrist that was broken, not my ankle. I could walk just fine.
Okay, so it was more of a stagger as I made my way back to Dave and found Steinwick standing over him with a gun. Fucking Steinwick.
"Nice punch," I murmured to him as I dropped to my knees in the grass. Dave wasn't going anywhere. Not with two bullet holes in his chest.
Several more shots rang out, and I barely flinched. Now that I knew Kody was here, I was sure Steele was on the other end of that rifle. He must be cleaning up any remaining attackers.
James jogged across the lawn toward us, a rifle of his own tucked under his arm and blood dripping down his face. I ignored him, though, turning my attention back to the dying man before me.
"Why?" I demanded. "What connection did you even have to my mom? To me?" All his background checks had been clear. There had been no reason to suspect him. Not one... or not anything that we'd found.
Blood bubbling from his chest wounds, Dave gave a gasping laugh,. One bullet had struck him near his shoulder, not an immediately fatal wound. The other looked a whole lot more serious, though.
"We need to get him to the hospital," I announced to anyone who was listening.
Kody scoffed. "Fuck that, I'm not saving this sick fuck."
I shook my head. "I don't want to save him, but this is too fast. Too merciful. He needs to pay... painfully. For days. He can't die this quickly; he doesn't fucking deserve it."
James crouched down beside us and shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo. That hole in his aorta will see him dead before we could even get him into a car."
Frustration burned through me, but I just gritted my teeth and glared down at the security guard who we'd thought to be so trustworthy.
"Who are you really?" I demanded. "You're dead in minutes, might as well rip the mask off, Dave."
Blood ran from his lips, but his familiar gaze was steady on mine as he tried to form words. Fuck. Fuck. He’d better not die before giving me at least one answer. Because right now all I had were more questions.
His lips moved again, and I crouched lower to try and hear him. There was a sickening wheezing sound mixed with the gurgle of blood, but right on the end of his last exhale, I got my clue.
"Declan."
It took a second for that name to click in my brain, but when it did, I felt like I'd been hit by lightning. Horrified, I jerked back from his lifeless gaze and lost my balance, putting my hand out to brace myself. But I forgot about my broken wrist.
An agonized scream ripped out of my throat, but it wasn't just from the pain in my hand. It was for my mom... because the man who'd stalked her, raped her, was her own twin brother.
39
There was no stopping the vomit after all those pieces clicked together in my brain. I crouched on my knees, emptying my stomach into a garden bed while Kody rubbed my back. Steele arrived just a minute later, his rifle tucked under his arm and a fresh bruise blooming on his cheek.
"Hellcat," he exhaled when he spotted me shivering under Kody's arm. "You're okay?"
Kody snorted as I wiped my mouth off on my forearm. "What the fuck does it look like, bro? She's far from okay."
I gave him a small jab in the ribs. "I'm okay," I told Steele. "Nothing that won't heal."
Movement from the house drew everyone's attention, and both James and Steele swung their guns up to aim before the person staggered out of the shadows and into the light from the security spotlights.
"Thank fuck," I exclaimed, staggering to my feet to run at top speed across the lawn. My broken wrist and multiple bruises were totally forgotten as I threw myself at Archer, clinging onto him as I sobbed into his chest.
He let out a small grunt of pain, but one arm wrapped around me tight, holding me against him with just as much desperation as I was feeling. I'd thought for sure he was dead. That hit he'd taken from the weight, then the gunshot... but of course he wasn't dead. This was Archer D'Ath; he was basically indestructible.
"I'm okay, baby girl," he murmured in my ear, his lips moving against my skin. "I'm alive. It's okay, shh, don't cry."
His words made sense, but I couldn't stop. I was shaking all over, tears pouring from my eyes and my chest aching with an overload of emotions.
"Hellcat." Steele stroked a gentle hand down my back. "Gorgeous, can you let go for a second? Arch needs his shoulder popped back into place, and your wrist needs attention."
I jerked back with a gasp, my gaze taking in the way Archer's arm hung limp at his side and the steady drip of blood coloring the grass at our feet.
"Shit, I'm so sorry." I sniffed to try and control my tears but had exactly zero luck. "S-sorry. Arch, you're bleeding really hard. Steele, he's—"
"We've got it, babe," Kody cut me off in a smooth, gentle tone. "Come, sit with me over here. Will you be okay a couple of minutes while James stops Archer bleeding?"
Nodding quickly, I let him lead me over to the outdoor table and took a seat when he pulled it out for me. James and Steele—the only ones who actually knew what they were doing—went to work on Archer where he stood.
Steinwick came rushing back over the lawn carrying a large medical kit, which he must have just fetched from James's shed. Anna appeared out of the house, looking pale and shocked, but rushed straight over to where I sat with Kody.
"Oh, my girl, what a mess," she murmured as she took in my newest injuries. "Wait here."
Not like I was going anywhere, but I nodded. My eyes were glued to Archer, though, watching with choking concern as James peeled Archer's T-shirt up to inspect the bullet hole on his side. Steele handed him wipes, and they quickly patched it up with gauze, then wrapped a bandage tightly around his waist to hold pressure against the wound.
They then worked in tandem to pop Archer's shoulder back into place. It took them several tries, and when it eventually slid into place, Archer's face was gray and sweat beaded on his brow.
"Just keep that there," Anna said to me, and I blinked rapidly, not having noticed she'd returned. An ice pack was wrapped around my broken wrist where it rested on the table, and I had no recollection of her having done it. Shock must be setting in.
"Ambulance is just two minutes away," Steinwick informed Kody, touching him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Archer will need to be taken in with Madison Kate. That gunshot wound needs stitching properly." He nodded over to where James was asking Archer a series of questions.
"His head too," I added, my voice hoarse and thick with emotions. "He got hit in the back of the head with a dumbbell."
Kody's brows shot up, and Steinwick nodded his understanding, then crossed over the lawn to tell James this additional information. Archer shot me an accusatory look, like I'd just tattled on him, but I didn't fucking care. He could have had a concussion or something, and he needed that checked out properly.
"Babe," Kody said, carefully cupping my face and stroking his thumb over my less bruised
cheek. "Hey, stay with me. It's all over now. It's done. No one else is going to hurt you, I swear."
It wasn't until he started speaking that I realized I was shivering. More than shivering, I was damn near convulsing. My wrist was numb from the ice, but my whole arm ached with a dull pain. Frowning, I forced myself to draw a couple of deep, slow breaths. I needed to calm down, or I'd do more damage than I already had.
Two ambulances with lights and sirens came speeding across the grass from the direction of the front gates, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Archer needed their help, and Steele needed to be checked out too. Who knew how hard he'd been hit to make that bruise on his face—not to mention whatever the fuck we'd all been gassed with. Shit, everyone needed to be checked out.
"What do we do about the bodies?" I asked Kody with chattering teeth. "Where did he even get so much backup?"
Kody grimaced. "Wraiths. I spotted a gang tattoo on one of the first attackers. Trust me, babe, Charon has a lot to answer for after this mess."
Surprisingly, no cop cars followed the ambulances onto the property. But then, that wasn't actually so surprising, was it? Archer D'Ath was above the law, at least in Shadow Grove. They'd attended the scene when Bree's car had crashed because it had been so public. But here? On our private property? They were firmly turning their heads the other way. And thank fuck for that.
It took some time for the EMTs to check everyone over, but at the end of it, only Archer and I needed to go to the hospital for further treatment. Steele had taken a solid hit to the face but was given the all clear with only a mild concussion.
Kody, though? Fucking Kody. Not a damn scratch on him.
"Seriously?" Archer grumbled at his friend while the EMTs strapped him into a stretcher and stabilized his arm. "How the fuck are you so slippery you didn't even catch a black eye or something? This is such bullshit."
Kody just grinned like a shithead. "Hey man, don't hate the player, hate the game. I can't help that I'm just a bigger badass than you."
Archer glared daggers but couldn't do anything as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance.