Chapter Twenty-Six
Later that night…
The penthouse had glass walls on three sides. The AC hit cool against his skin.
Below, the city burned—lights, motion—but it didn’t pull his focus.
Inside, everything was kind of chaotic. Not controlled. Expensive, but already looked lived in.
It worked. More importantly, it fit them all in one location without falling over each other.
A common area with suites of rooms connected. YA in one, Genesis splitting up the others. Space, but not distance.
He’d hated being apart from Law. Had Law felt it too? He must have—if the kiss they’d stolen earlier meant anything. Sage could still feel it, the reluctance to let him go, the quiet tenderness in the press of his lips.
His gaze moved slowly to the man sitting next to him.
Law—looking good enough to eat. Yeah…his body wasn’t helping. Sage adjusted himself beneath the table.
They sat at a large glass table in the living area. He sipped his coffee The brew was strong enough to wake him, not enough to help. He pushed his plate away.
“You’re not going to eat that?” Law eyed his bacon.
“Not a fan of breakfast for dinner.” Sage slid the plate over and smiled when Law finished his food.
“What’s the plan?” Boston said around a bite of food, coming out of the kitchen area.
“We’re waiting for help,” Law said.
“Help?” Boston snorted, stepping around Micah on his way into the open kitchen.
Rip was sprawled in a recliner, scrolling through online news on the TV’s app.
Sage sighed. “Daniel Voss has a whole network at his disposal, and you can bet money he’s already called them in for protection.”
“Okay…” Boston said with disbelief. “Let’s go get him.”
“We’re going to need more than just us.” Sage shook his head.
Syx clicked his fingers like he’d just remembered something. “So we go in like that scene in John Wick where he and that chick with the dogs attack.”
“No,” Memphis sputtered. “It’s more like that one with Beekeeper when Statham goes after the kid who runs the money scam.”
“Children, children,” Winter said from his spot on the couch, rubbing at the back of his head. “It’s definitely like that scene in The Assassin where they do swords in the train.”
“Y’all are crazy,” Memphis argued. “Those are single-man movies. This is more like that movie with Sylvester Stallone.”
Syx and Sage looked at each other. “Expendables!” they said simultaneously.
Law chuckled, shaking his head.
A knock at the door interrupted the lively conversation.
Sage watched them turn from jokers to killers in an instant. It wasn’t subtle—shoulders shifting, eyes sharpening, space tightening. And weapons. Lots of them.
“I’ll get it,” Syx said, leaping to his feet.
Law scowled at the sudden appearance of knives and guns. “Put that shit away.”
Sage bit back a smile as every one of them hid their weapons.
Syx pulled open the door and took an immediate step back.
Focus snapped.
Not quiet like when Erebus had entered the hospital.
Not force like when Genesis walked into a room.
More contained.
Two men stepped inside—both carrying a kind of presence that didn’t need to push to take space.
It just…did.
The first man in was built like a commander—big, solid, dark hair cut short. A scar along his jaw, pale and old. A U.S. Marshal badge hanging on a lanyard.
The second was leaner, quieter. Blond hair brushing his shoulders, gaze constantly moving, assessing.
Law had already filled him in on who they were.
The first man, the one with the dark hair and crystal-blue eyes, was Robert Mackenzie—Mac—a U.S. Marshal from Northern California. He moved like command sat naturally on his shoulders.
The second at his side—Noah Mackenzie—leaner, quieter. An operative from a group called Phoenix, also up north.
They were not brothers.
They were married.
Sage had done his research when Law told him.
Noah was less obvious with the authority, which somehow made him far more dangerous. His golden gaze moved, slow and deliberate, like he’d already mapped the room before anyone noticed he was doing it.
The air in the room tightened, not from tension.
But from the sudden acknowledgment of authority.
Law pushed to his feet.
“Surprised the hell out of me when I got your call.”
“Voss tends to get our attention,” Mac replied. “How the hell have you been?”
Mac’s mouth tipped slightly as he closed the distance. Their hands met in a firm, unyielding grip—tight, familiar, nothing wasted.
“Can’t complain,” Law said, turning without hesitation, offering the same to Noah. Noah’s grip was just as solid, quieter somehow, his gaze already moving past the exchange.
“This is Sage,” Law said, stepping back just enough to bring him into it. “My partner.”
Sage’s gaze caught on Law as he offered his hand to the two men.
He knew exactly what that meant.
Law had just made them official.