11. An Alarming Situation
11
An Alarming Situation
Lilith
I’m startled awake by the piercing wail of Declan’s home alarm system.
Or I guess I should say, we are.
Antonio is off the bed and yanking his shirt on before my feet have even touched the floor. I glance at the clock, noting that only a few hours have passed, and by the time we make it out the door into the hallway, the blaring alarm is cut, and I find the silence deafening. We rush down the hallway and down the stairs, eventually coming to a stop in the entryway that leads to the garage. Matt is already there and gives me a short nod and then says, “That’s the internal alarm at the residence holding Antoinette.”
“What do you think it means?” I ask quietly.
“It’s hard to say. It could be that someone has breached the property and someone on the inside set off the alarm.”
“Or?” Agatha asks from behind me.
I glance at her over my shoulder, sure that my own expression matches her worried one. Matt shrugs in response. “Or someone inside has gone berserk, and the alarm has been tripped—“
“Regardless,” Antonio interrupts, “We’re gonna go fuckin’ find out.”
No one wastes any more time talking. We all head out into the garage, the doors already opening as we each crawl into a vehicle. Agatha and I get in the back of an SUV, and Matt climbs behind the wheel with Antonio taking shotgun.
Kaian and Camilla go with Tony in a second vehicle. Tony drives out first, and we follow along behind.
Agatha’s hand on my knee cues me to my own nervous energy. I immediately stop bouncing my leg, glancing over at her and she gives me a reassuring look. “She’s okay. This is it.”
It’s still dark, though soon, the sky will start to lighten with the beginnings of daybreak. Tony drives like a madman, and Matt easily keeps pace, all of us feeling the urgency of the moment. The floodlights on the property come into view while we’re still a good distance away. Matt is cursing under his breath, and I don’t even have to ask him what the problem is because I know nothing will change our current trajectory.
Matt reaches up, adjusts his review mirror so we’re looking at each other, and says, “You may as well grab that big bag in the back. Everyone needs to suit up.”
Agatha and I both unbuckle, working together to heft the large bag up between us on the seat. Unzipping it, I find a typical array of vests and weapons. I toss a vest up to Antonio who immediately secures it to his torso. Agatha and I do the same, and then I hand the spare one to Antonio to hold for Matt.
Tony pulls over on the side of the road. Matt pulls up behind him, putting the SUV in park and then hurriedly securing his vest to his body. I watch the shadows in the car ahead of us, knowing they’re going through the same motions we are. Matt buckles back in, and like clockwork, we’re once again following directly behind Tony as he takes off down the road.
There’s not a lot to choose from in the bag, mostly standard Glocks and a few shotguns. This isn’t the type of situation where you want to be flashy or encumbered with large, unnecessary weaponry.
I look at the road ahead, and for a moment, I worry that Tony is going to drive right to the front fucking door, but finally, he pulls over a few hundred yards from the driveway. Matt parks behind him, killing the ignition and then tossing the keys on the floor.
We all exit the vehicle silently, and then Tony is there, handing a small black bag to Matt, who opens it and hands me a small round object. I take it from him, immediately recognizing it as an earpiece. Each of us inserts the small contraption into an ear, and Matt quickly runs through some checks to confirm everyone is online.
Tony takes us down the driveway, double-timing it down the shadows in the tree line until the house comes into view. Tony wordlessly indicates that he will take the far perimeter and then takes off, with Kaian, Camilla, and Agatha following behind him.
Matt inclines his head in the opposite direction, and Antonio and I trail after him, eyes and ears focused on the residence that is lit up like a Christmas tree but dead silent.
I know Matt has studied whatever plans he could find for the building’s layout, so I follow him along the tree line around to the opposite side, where he makes a beeline for a door.
The door handle doesn’t give, so he steps aside, and I step forward, my handy kit of tools already in my hand. I make quick work of the locks and then step aside and allow Matt to ease the door open. He glances inside, listening briefly, before entering, and I follow right behind him, knowing Antonio is right there. Antonio shuts the door behind us, and then the three of us stand there in a brightly lit entryway staring at each other. Finally, I quietly ask, “Is it just me or does this seem off?”
Matt presses his lips together as he shakes his head, and then, after a moment, he replies, “Part of me wants to turn around and pretend it was a false alarm.”
Trepidation rolls over me in a wave, and I have to push down my sudden urge to vomit. I attempt a deep breath through my nose and stop, grimacing, as I choke out, “Fuck.”
Antonio’s hand is on my shoulder, he leans over to meet my eyes. “What is it?”
“Blood.”
Antonio frowns, searching my gaze, and I see the moment he understands what I’m saying, and he curses under his breath, his eyes moving to Matt, who’s also cursing.
Giving up any semblance of caution, we take off down the hallway, Matt taking point with Antonio and I flanking him. We open the doors as we go, finding room after room of nothing, and then we hit the end of the hallway, the main entry point of the residence.
Now, there’s shining white marble streaked and splattered with red.
“What the fuck happened here?” I whisper.
Matt and Antonio both shake their heads as Tony comes through the earpiece, relaying the same scene on the other side of the house. We go from room to room, the majority of them empty, but that doesn’t take away from the shock of the rooms we find that reek of chaos and death. We follow the trail of bodies and blood up the staircase to the second level.
We clear several smaller bedrooms before finding ourselves back in the main hallway, headed toward what must be the master suite at the end. Tony is standing there, peering in a crack in the door. He puts his finger to his lips, putting up a finger, letting us know there’s someone there.
Tony’s eyes widen, his entire focus on where the door is ajar, and then suddenly, he raises his weapon, pointing it directly in front of him as he rushes back a few steps.
As the door begins to open, the rest of us raise our weapons, and I silently pray that the person standing on the other side of that door is Antoinette.
Almost immediately, I recognize a silhouette too large to be her, and then Tony drops his weapon. “Darius?”
We all secure our weapons as Darius opens the door fully, stepping aside so we can all enter the room. Once again, there’s blood streaked and splattered everywhere, and I glance around, looking for some sign of Antoinette. But there is none. The room is empty.
I turn my gaze to the large bed, walking over to it and staring down at the sheets splattered with blood. Grimacing, I turn back to Darius, asking, “Is that Antoinette’s blood?”
Darius raises his brows at me, giving me a bland look as he grits out, “How the fuck would I know?”
“Well, how long have you been here?”
“Not long enough, apparently.”
“Did you kill all those people?” Matt asks.
Darius shakes his head. “Some. A lot of them were already dead when I got here.”
Darius backs away from the blood-splattered bed until his back is pressed against the wall. Slowly, he slides down it until he’s sitting there looking completely wrecked, helpless. “I should have come sooner. As soon as that car showed up, I should have broken down the door to get to her.”
“A car showed up?” Tony asks as he kneels in front of Darius, his hand resting on Darius’s forearm, where he has it braced against his own knee. “Do you know who it was?”
“No, I didn’t get a good look at him. A car pulled into the garage, and everything was quiet for a while. Then, after some time went by, the same car left, and not five minutes later, the alarms went off.”
We all fall silent, and I look over at Matt, who has moved to the other side of the room and is speaking into his phone. After a brief exchange, his call ends, and he stuffs his phone back in his pocket as he comes over to stand with us. “I called in the crew to handle this. They’ll let us know if they find anything.”
“If they find anyone alive,” Tony says as he rises to his feet. “I want them alive.”
Matt snorts, walking along behind him toward the door as he retorts, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they fucking know that.”
I stop in the doorway, turning back to look at Darius who’s still leaning against the wall. “Let’s go, asshole.”
He lifts his gaze to mine, raising his brows, so I add, “Whatever separate fucking agenda you’ve got that you’re working on, it ends here. Now, get your fucking ass up and let’s go.”
If he wants to argue with me, he chooses not to, slowly gets to his feet, and walks toward me. He stops directly in front of me, leaning over and saying quietly, “You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve missed you, Lils.”
I frown as I resist the urge to hug him. Not wanting to risk an emotional outburst, I pat him on the chest a bit harder than I intend to as I mutter, “Likewise.”
His smile is sad, the tiredness around his eyes evident as he follows me along the hallway and down the stairs. “Do you have a vehicle here?”
“No, got dropped off a couple of miles out and hoofed it.”
I nod, trying not to snort at the image of him hoofing it in his ridiculous accountant disguise. He gives me a dirty look, likely knowing full well what I’m thinking, and when he gives me a slight shove, I don’t bother trying to hide my grin, thankful for the small distraction from the shitshow we’re currently in.
We all exit the residence through the side entrance, skirting back around the dark edges of the property and down the driveway to the waiting SUVs.
Darius follows Tony, but he pauses before getting into the passenger seat and pulls out his phone, obviously sending someone a message before pocketing it and getting into the vehicle.
We all pile in, and then it’s a quieter and much longer drive back to Declan’s estate.
Tony loops around the driveway, backing the vehicle into the garage while Matt stops and waits near the front door. I glance over at the front of the house, doing a double-take as I say, “Did someone leave the front door open?”
Matt and Antonio immediately look toward the house as Matt asks, “What do you mean?”
Agatha unbuckles her seatbelt, leaning over me to peer out the window. “Did Declan come back?”
“No, he absolutely did not.”
Matt shifts the SUV into park, speaking into the earpiece he’s still wearing as we exit the vehicle and quietly rush to the front door. We stop in the main entryway to Declan’s home, and at first glance, everything appears to be in its normal place, but after a closer look, I see it.
Small streaks of red. A fingerprint here. A smear there.
Then, Tony is in my ear, whispering, “There’s someone in the kitchen.”
We quickly make our way toward the kitchen, and sure enough, the closer we get, the more noises I hear. As we get closer to the doorway, Matt and Antonio fall behind, allowing me to go first into the room.
Tony stands in the doorway on the opposite side, having entered through the garage. He looks at me with wide eyes and shakes his head subtly. I walk further into the room, my eyes trained on what is obviously a dark-haired woman standing at the stove with her back to me.
She’s whistling. My eldest-born daughter, who’s been missing for months and months, is now standing at the stove, whistling some silly little ditty as she does a little jig.
Agatha nudges me, drawing my attention to her, and when I look at her, she motions with her head, so I return my attention to Antoinette and ask, “Whatcha cookin’?”
Antoinette doesn’t startle or flinch. She slowly turns around, her smile vibrant as she replies, “Nothing well.” Tony’s burst of laughter from the door draws her attention, and her smile broadens. “For fuck’s sake, Tony, don’t just stand there, put me out of my misery.”
She steps away from the stove, motioning toward it as Tony closes the distance between them. He doesn’t say anything to her; he just takes up her spot at the stove, the frown on his face indicating that whatever the fuck she was doing was not good.
Then, she turns to face me fully, stepping closer, and my eyes practically bug out of my head as I get a good look at her. I do my best not to gape at her, and I’m saved from having to speak when Agatha says from beside me, “What the hell, sis? Did you get in a fight?”
Antoinette glances down at herself and then laughs. “Nothing a little club soda won’t take out.”
The laugh that falls from my lips is jarring and painful.
She is quite literally covered in blood. Her clothes are splattered and, in some places, even saturated. I walk around the kitchen island, following the bloody smears wherever she has touched.
I stop when I’m about a foot from her, resting my hand on top of hers where it’s on the counter and ask, “How did you get here?”
“I drove. I have the code for the garage, so I parked there and let myself in.”
Matt hadn’t opened the other garage door, so we didn’t notice the new vehicle. I look at Tony, who glances at me and nods, confirming that her story is true. “Did you open the front door?”
She nods and sighs. “I was looking for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Are you okay?” Agatha asks from where she’s still standing on the other side of the kitchen island.
Antoinette’s gaze moves to her sister’s, and she frowns. “Do I look fucking okay?”
Agatha smirks in typical Agatha fashion and then shrugs. “Well, I’ve seen you look worse.”
Antoinette grins, those bright blue eyes sparkling. “I know. And it could certainly be worse.”
Antoinette turns her attention back to me, and then her bright smile quickly fades. Her gaze moves over my shoulder as she seems to deflate before my eyes.
Her throat moves as she swallows, a quick inhalation seeming to get stuck, and then she chokes out, “You.”
I don’t have to turn to know Darius is standing behind me. She trembles, her eyes a quick kaleidoscope of emotions as tension coils, and she becomes stiff and unyielding.
Then her face twists, her eyes hardening, and she grabs the chef’s knife from the counter as she spits out, “You motherfucker.”
Then, all that coiling tension releases at once, and she shoves me to the side, leaving me staggering against the counter as she launches herself across the room.