Nine
Gabriel
“Fucking step on it!” I scream into Seb’s ear as he threads through traffic in his Tesla. It’s some special model, faster than a sports car, but the silence of it grates on my nerves. We’re not going fast enough. We won’t make it in time.
“I am,” he snaps back, overtaking a slow flatbed on a dangerous curve. We narrowly miss smashing into an oncoming truck, and the driver lets loose a flurry of angry honks.
“Fuck’s sake!” Jacob roars from the back seat. “Pull over and let me drive. You’re going to kill us.”
“No. We’re almost there. Grab the gun under my seat.” Seb leans forward, knuckles white on the wheel. In contrast, Jacob looks calm. He doesn’t talk about it much, but he spent a few years in some special forces branch of the British army. The SAS, maybe? This probably doesn’t faze him at all.
Jacob pulls a gun case from under the seat and extracts a shiny weapon. A pistol? All my gun knowledge comes from movies. Jacob studies it with a frown. “Why do you have this in your car?”
“Protection,” Seb barks, taking another curve at heart-stopping speed. I check my phone. The dot marking Cole’s position stopped moving two minutes ago, and we should be wherever they are in five. He couldn’t do much to her in seven minutes? Right?
“Left here!” I yell, and Seb swings the car off the main road onto a rutted country track. The car jolts, not designed for the terrain, but Seb doesn’t slow down.
I turn to Jacob and hold out my hand. “Give me the gun. I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Jacob snorts. “You’ll shoot your own foot off. I’ll handle this.”
He opens the chamber, loads it, and unclips the safety in about two seconds flat. Tension and pure white rage scorch my insides as I watch him, wanting to argue but knowing he’s right. I fired guns once, on a boy’s weekend in Vegas at a range. Not exactly a seasoned professional.
“Right,” I grind out, then turn my attention to the road ahead. It twists and turns, narrowing and giving me Hills Have Eyes flashbacks. Where the hell is that asshole taking my girl?
“Slow down,” Jacob orders. “We don’t want them to hear us coming.”
Seb listens, easing off the accelerator and slowing the car to a crawl. With the electric engine, it’s like a ghost. We approach the final bend and I grip the door handle.
“Gabriel. Look at me.”
Jacob’s voice rings with command, like a motherfucking general addressing a new recruit. I turn to him, ready to snap, but the serious look on his face stops me.
“Listen to me. If you leap out and go in there raging like a dick, you could get your girl killed. Do you understand me? We know Cole isn’t a pro, but he might have people helping him. We don’t know how many guys are in there. We could be outnumbered. Follow my lead. Understood?”
My mind fills with images of Eve passed around between multiple men, and hatred blanks my thoughts.
“Gabriel! If you don’t cool it, I’ll knock you out right now and handle this myself. Talk to me.”
I force myself to breathe, fighting down the unaccustomed rage. I don’t know what to do with it. It’s a river drowning my senses, and I can hardly make myself think beyond it. But I have to. Jacob isn’t kidding, and I can’t let that happen. Eve is MY girl. I’m going to deal with Cole myself.
One more breath, and I meet Jacob’s gaze. “Yes. I understand. I’ll follow your lead.”
He studies me through narrowed eyes, then nods. “Okay.”
“We’re here,” Seb whispers, although there’s no way anyone could hear us. A black SUV sits outside a ramshackle old building, probably someone’s hunting shack. Uneven wooden planks cover the windows, and the door is closed, no one guarding it.
Seb pulls the car to a stop, and we exit. Jacob steps in front of us, then waves us forward. We creep toward the house. I want to run. What could be happening to Eve in these seconds we’re wasting? But I hang on to my shredded self-control with my fingernails and follow slowly behind Jacob.
He reaches the door and holds up his hand for us to stop as he carefully tries the handle. Locked. I keep expecting gunfire from the bushes or someone to come flying out of the door, spraying bullets. But this isn’t a movie, and Cole thought he was just taking a terrified girl. He wouldn’t expect to be interrupted.
That thought sets the fury surging again, and my hands curl into fists without conscious direction. He’ll pay. He’ll fucking—
Jacob pulls his leg back and kicks the door. The old, rotted wood explodes under his boot with a crack like a bomb went off in the quiet clearing. Gun leveled, he kicks it again, clearing more wood, and then ducks through the hole. I follow, Seb on my heels.
The scene inside takes me a second to process. Eve and Billie lie on the filthy floor, hands and feet restrained. Billie’s top is torn, exposing her tits, and a guy is kneeling on top of her. Then my world narrows, leaving room for nothing but Eve.
Her dress is hiked up to her waist, and her panties are shoved down to her knees, baring her to everyone. Her eyes are screwed tight shut, her beautiful face twisted in a miserable grimace. Cole leans over her, bent at the waist, and his hands…
His hands are groping her breasts.
Every warning Jacob gave me leaves my mind, and I fly straight at Cole with a feral, alien yell. He looks up, still bent over my girl, and the moronic surprise on his face etches itself into my memory as I smash my knee into his chin. Pain shoots into my knee, and his jaw cracks, the most satisfying sound I’ve ever heard.
He topples, landing on his back, and I follow, dropping on top of him and raining punches onto his face. He raises his hands to defend himself but is weak, probably stunned from the impact. I smash my fists into his face, over and over, knuckles in agony, until a gunshot rings out.
It’s fucking loud , loud enough that a high-pitched whine makes my ears ring and muffles all other sounds. I risk a glance up from Cole. The other man lies on the floor, a chunk of his head missing, gore and blood pouring out. Jacob strides over and points the gun at Cole, face expressionless.
“Move.” He gestures with the gun. “I’ll sort him out.”
Cole pleads in a mushy voice through his broken jaw. “Please, no. What do you want? Money? I’ll—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I punch him again, right in the jaw, and he shrieks.
“Gabriel, move.”
“No. He’s mine.” The words sound ridiculous in my own ears, but every part of me knows the truth of them. “I’ll do it.”
Cole lets out another flurry of incoherent pleas, and this time, Jacob silences him with a kick to the head. “Trust me, you don’t want this. It’s not you. Let me handle it. Look after your girl.”
The words almost pierce my anger, and I look over to see Seb cutting the girls’ bonds with what looks like a damn pen knife.
A boy scout is always prepared.
A wild laugh bubbles up, and I recognize the edge of hysteria in it. The rage that drove me is ebbing. I should go to Eve, wrap her up in my coat, and make sure she’s okay.
No. Not yet.
I look down at Cole’s messed-up face. Even if he lives, he’ll never be the pretty boy he once was. His jaw sits at a nauseating angle, and Jacob’s kick plastered his nose across his bloody face. His baby-blue eyes stare at me, a world of desperation in them.
I hold out my hand. “Give me the gun.”
“Gabriel, no, I–”
“I said give me the fucking gun!”
A long pause, then Jacob sighs. “If you do this, you can’t go back. You’ll never be the same.”
The sadness in his voice makes me pause, but only for a moment. “The gun. Now.”
Jacob presses it into my hand. The weight of it surprises me. Are they always this heavy? The enormity of what I’m about to do drags at me as I point the gun directly at Cole’s forehead. A tear leaks from the corner of his eye, and he shakes his head as I steady the weapon.
“This is for Eve,” I manage to get out. Then I pull the trigger.
The recoil smacks the gun back into my chest. A deafening bang echoes round the shack .
Cole’s head explodes.
Blood, bone, and fuck knows what else splatters over my jeans. Through the whine left by the bang, I hear someone vomiting. I don’t turn to see who. I can’t take my eyes from the destruction. Seconds ago, there was a person. Now, there’s just mangled meat.
Jacob grabs the gun from my hand, and I leap back with a cry. I did that. Me. My hands start to shake, and I force myself to look away, at the only thing capable of distracting me from what I just did.
My Eve.
Seb has managed to get the ties off her, and she sits, hands clutching the remnants of her ruined dress to her chest. Her beautiful green eyes are wide, and she’s staring at me as though I’m some alien creature that just landed in her living room. Pure shock and parted lips.
She whispers, “You.”
My paralysis breaks, and I pull off my worn leather jacket and wrap it around her slight form. It drowns her, giving her back her modesty, and she grabs the edges tight even as she flinches away from my touch.
She’s terrified of me. Of course she is. For all she knows, I’m a bigger monster than the one I just killed.
God, I want to kneel beside her and wrap her in my arms. Pick her up, take her back to the Compound right now, and promise her that she’s safe forever. That no one will ever touch her again.
Except me, of course.
As usual, my need to protect her is tinged with something darker. I want to make it all better. And then I want to make her mine in every way possible. Because she is mine. And the way she’s looking at me, with that wide-eyed awestruck expression, isn’t doing anything to calm my darker urges .
“Who are you? Are you going to let us go?” Billie, now wearing Seb’s coat, shuffles over to Eve and wraps a protective arm around her shoulders. She’s addressing Jacob, sharp enough to recognize the real threat in the room.
I step back, hands raised, as reality starts to creep back in. We’re in a cabin in the woods with two frightened girls and two dead bodies. The shots probably wouldn’t have alerted anyone out here, but we can’t be sure. For all we know, a ring of cops might be closing in right now.
Jacob crouches in front of the girls, all business. “Ladies, you’re safe now. Sebastian here”—he gestures at Seb, who has come to stand next to me—“is going to drive both of you home. No harm will come to either of you. You have my word. Do you trust me?”
The girls glance at each other, then Eve’s eyes return to me. “Who are you?”
Impossible to tell if she’s speaking to me or to the group of us as a whole, but Jacob doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “We’ve been tracking Cole’s associate for a while. He’s into some shady business. Now that they’re both taken care of, the two of you are safe. You need to get out of here before the authorities arrive. Please, go with Sebastian.”
Such a smooth, well-constructed story, but Eve isn’t fooled. A wrinkle forms between her eyes as she stares at me, but Billie gets to her feet and gives Eve’s hand a decisive tug. “Come on. Let's go.”
Sensible. If we meant them harm, we could have done whatever we wanted.
Eve’s eyes don’t leave me as she follows Billie to the door. My heart lurches at watching her walk away. “I’ll drive them.”
“No. You won’t.” Jacob steps in front of me, blocking my view of Eve. He speaks in a voice too low for the girls to hear. “ You could go into shock any moment. And we’ve got a whole heap of shit to clean up. You’ve got a call to make to Kendrick.” He shakes his head. “He’s going to be fucking pissed.”
***
“Tell me again why you didn’t just call the Gilda?”
Jacob, Seb, and I stand before Kendrick’s desk like guilty schoolboys in front of the principal. No convivial glass of whiskey this time.
I haven’t even had time to change, and every time I let myself think of the crusted blood, bone, and brain matter clinging to my jeans, I have to battle not to spew my guts out onto Kendrick’s polished stone floor. That would be the worst thing I could possibly do. Jacob was right. He’s pissed.
Jacob answers. “Sir, as I explained, when I assessed the threat and the time available, I–”
“Not you.” Kendrick glares in my direction. “Gabriel. This is your doing. I want your take on the matter.”
I dig through the swampy tangle of my thoughts and try to find something coherent to say. When the adrenaline left my system, shock struck hard. I’m a shaking, stammering mess.
Eve’s fucking hero.
“I needed to save her.” It’s the one clear thought in my mind. “If we’d waited for the Gilda, that bastard would have raped her.”
“So you decided to risk three brilliant minds, not to mention the safety and sanctity of the Brotherhood, by taking matters into your own hands? ”
My head spins, and it’s taking ninety percent of my energy just to stay on my feet. “I had to,” is all my brilliant mind can muster. Belatedly, I add, “It was all me, sir. My idea.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that.”
Kendrick rests his elbows on his desk, fingers steepled. He sighs. “You’re young, and I do remember what that was like. All three of you are on probation. One more mistake, and you won’t like the consequences.”
The wash of relief almost takes my legs from underneath me. Kendrick waves a hand. “Sebastian, Jacob, leave us.”
The two of them disappear, leaving me in the lion’s den alone. Kendrick points to a chair. “Sit, before you fall down.”
I collapse into the chair, exhaustion dragging every part of me downward. My eyelids feel weighted. Kendrick pours a glass of his signature whiskey—a much larger measure than usual—and hands it to me. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
His voice is softer now, more understanding. I take a sip, and the burn in my stomach chases away some of the fog. I meet Kendrick’s sharp gaze. “Thank you. For not punishing them.”
His eyes soften. “I’m glad to see such strong bonds forming between you new initiates. Whatever else it may be, the Brotherhood is a strong union of men all working toward the same goal: the advancement and enlightenment of the human race.”
A speech I’ve heard many times, but it resonates differently now. I take another drink, and the shaking in my fingers subsides.
“Now, Gabriel.” Kendrick pours himself a drink of his own, and his eyes stray to the picture on the wall. Him and his Ward when they were young. “This girl. If she’s worth killing for, am I to assume you’re planning to take her? If so, you must commit. ”
He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out an ancient-looking book. It’s heavy, with yellowed pages and thick leather binding. He turns it to face me, opening it at the first page.
I scan the thin, calligraphic script. Names and dates in neat lines. The very first line reads, “Brother Thomas Peterson, Patron to Agnes Hall. Second of September, the year of our Lord 1623.”
The lines continue. Kendrick turns the pages with care, finally reaching one with blank space. “You shall write your name there in three months' time. It’s a sacred bond. Your girl, this Eve, she’s to be your Ward?”
I picture Eve wrapped in my jacket. Her beautiful eyes locked on me. The lingering guilt I’ve been nursing at the prospect of stealing her from her life melts away. Kendrick is right—what we have is a sacred bond. She’s already mine. And once I have her, I’ll make her forget everything else.
“Yes. She is.”