26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wrenley
The air outside the House of Silk is thick and heavy, damp with the scent of mildew and rot.
Night’s settled in full, casting long shadows across the abandoned warehouse compound.
We’re crouched just beyond the tree line, hidden in the dark.
My heartbeat thrums steady beneath my ribs, not with fear, but focus.
One guard is posted by the back door. Sloppy. I lift my hand, dagger cool against my palm, and exhale, finding the rhythm of my heartbeat before I throw. The blade spins once, twice, and lands with a wet thunk straight into his throat. He collapses without a sound.
“Go,” I hiss, already moving.
We break from cover, boots pounding against the dirt.
Max reaches the door first, yanking it open.
Torque and Wrecker slip through ahead of me, weapons drawn, clearing the narrow hallway.
I bend at the last second, ripping my dagger from the guard’s neck, blood already pooling beneath his head. No time to process. No time to feel.
Margot’s voice crackles in my ear. “You’re in. I’ve looped the hallway feeds. You’ve got four minutes before the next sweep.”
We flood the back corridors like a storm.
Max and I peel left, Reaper to the right, while Toque and Wrecker head straight through to breach the upper floor.
Riot and Elias are already inside through the front, Hunter confirmed it.
They’re sweeping the ground level, herding any girls they can find toward the extraction vans parked two blocks away.
Reaper’s voice comes through, low and sharp. “Room on your right, two heat signatures. One armed.”
Max nods to me, and I kick the door in.
The man inside barely has time to turn before Max drops him with a single shot to the chest. The girl in the corner screams, clutching a torn bedsheet to her chest. I’m at her side in a second.
“You’re safe,” I tell her, crouching down. “We’re here to get you out.”
Max pulls his jacket off and wraps it around her. “A doctor is waiting for you. You’re going to be okay.”
Another voice over the comm, Cash this time. “Two more secured. Sending them out with Noah.”
There’s shouting now, panicked male voices. A gunshot cracks through the hall.
“Wrecker,” Max says into the comm. “Report.”
“I’m fine,” he responds, breathing heavily. “But these assholes are trying to barricade the girls on the top floor. We’re going through the wall if we have to.”
Reaper again. “I’m on my way. Max, three more moving your direction. Heavy weapons.”
We move faster.
I’m running before I know it, knife still slick in my hand.
We reach the hall just as the thugs round the corner.
Max drops one with a shot between the eyes.
I duck and roll under the swing of a second man’s baton, come up under his arm, and drive my blade into his side.
He chokes, and stumbles. Max finishes him.
The third one turns and runs, coward.
From above us, I hear Torque shout, “Girls are secured! But someone set a fire in the north hall!”
Riot again, “I’m grabbing the last two now. Wren—status?”
“Still breathing,” I say, wiping the blade on my thigh. “You?”
A beat of silence, then him again breathless. “Having the time of my fucking life.”
The fire alarm wails as smoke starts to curl beneath the second-floor landing. Chaos bleeds through the building, thick and choking. Screams. Gunshots. Footsteps pounding across broken tiles. And beneath it all, our comms, our pulse, our mission.
Thirty girls. We have to get all of them out.
Max and I reach the base of the stairs just as Wrecker comes barreling down, carrying a girl who can’t be more than sixteen, blood on her cheek, eyes glassy. He doesn’t stop. He just nods to us, breathing hard, and keeps running.
Torque appears at the railing, smoke behind him. “We’ve got eight more. Second-floor landing’s blocked. Reaper’s going to blow it clear.”
“Do it,” I say.
Margot’s voice in our ears now, “Fire crews are on the way. You’ve only got a few minutes before the building’s crawling with uniforms.”
Max grabs my hand. “Time to move, Sparrow.”
I nod, blood-slick fingers wrapping around his. “Let’s finish this.”
The second floor is smoke and rubble. The air tastes like ash and blood, and every breath burns. We keep moving. I spot Liam through the haze, Torque at his side, both of them watching the staircase like it might sprout an enemy.
“We’ve got movement!” Torque yells.
Girls pour toward us, coughing, clutching one another, their eyes wild with disbelief. The men who kept them here are running the other way like rats from a sinking ship.
One girl, barefoot, barely clothed, grabs my arm as she passes. “There’s more in the basement,” she gasps. “You can’t leave them. It’s the boys. They’re still down there!”
My stomach drops.
Liam’s already looking at me. “There are men down here, too?”
I nod. “We’re not leaving them.”
“Max!” Liam calls, turning to where he’s helping one of the girls to the stairs. “Get them out. We’re heading down.”
Max curses, but his eyes land on me, soft and fierce. “Make it quick. This place is going to shit fast.”
We sprint. The hallway is heavy with smoke and shadows. As we pass a blown-out door, something flickers at the edge of my vision. Instinct takes over. I twist, bring my arm up, and swing my smaller dagger in a clean, practiced arc.
It slices across a man’s face. He reels back, blood dripping from a fresh line across his cheek, and that’s when I see him.
Sebastian.
His smile is full of madness. Red drips from his chin, his eyes alight like fire licking gasoline. He’s holding something, but the smoke curls around it like a curtain.
“Sweet little Wrenley,” he purrs, voice laced with static and venom. “You’re quicker than you used to be.”
Reaper raises his gun. “Try it,” he growls.
Sebastian laughs, stepping back. “You’re ruining everything, baby sister. All I wanted was to show you the world you belong in. With me. But fine, if I can’t have it now…” he flicks the object in his hand. “We’ll play again soon.”
He throws it.
“Grenade!” I scream.
Liam lunges, grabbing me and throwing us both to the ground as the blast detonates, light swallowing sound, sound drowning out light. The air implodes with a hollow roar. My ears ring. My head spins. Liam is over me, shielding me as smoke presses in from every angle.
“Little warrior, you good?” His voice cuts through the chaos.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Blood trickles from my brow. My dagger’s gone. My breath’s a wheeze. But I’m on my feet. We find the basement door half off its hinges. Inside, a dozen men, some barely more than boys, are crumpled against the walls, half-conscious and glassy-eyed.
“Shit,” Liam mutters. “They’ve been drugged.”
He raises his comm. “We need backup in the basement now. Twelve males, all compromised. We need evac, fast.”
I move down the rows, checking pulses. They’re alive. Barely.
“Whoever’s got an empty van,” I bark, “Get it to the back entrance. NOW! They’re not walking out of here.”
Static crackles. “Copy that. Rolling up now.”
The Serpents move like a machine. Riots suddenly beside us. Hunter shouts from upstairs that all thirty girls are loaded and headed to Doc.
Torque bursts into the room, helping Liam with one of the larger men. I take the smallest and start the climb back up. The smoke’s thicker now. We clear the back door just as a van screeches to a halt. Hunter jumps out, counting heads, relaying numbers.
“Thirty girls. Twelve males. No enemy resistance left.”
Torque shoves the driver into the passenger seat and climbs in. “Let’s move!”
The doors slam shut. The van pulls away, sirens wailing behind us as fire trucks arrive. As we pass them, my body finally relaxes, and I feel the weight of every life we pulled from that hell.
The safehouse smells like antiseptic and fear.
Doc is everywhere at once, checking pupils, stitching cuts, starting IVs.
The girls are clutching each other, their skin is pale, eyes hallowed.
Tears streaking most of the faces looking around.
Beside them, the twelve drugged men we dragged from the basement aren’t in much better shape.
It’s silent except for quiet sobs and the sound of vitals being taken.
Everyone’s working. Riot’s hauling bottled water from the van.
Elias is setting up a laptop and tapping into the nearest security feed.
Hunters posted near the door, eyes sharp.
Even Wrecker hasn’t moved. One of the young girls, the one he carried out, is curled against him like she might fall apart if she lets go.
Doc glances at me as I drop down on one of the crates we’ve turned into makeshift seating. Her gaze goes straight to the blood at my temple.
“That needs stitches,” she says.
I wave her off. “I’m fine. It can wait.”
She doesn’t argue with me, just looks at Reaper.
He sighs, already standing. “I got it.”
He grabs a suture kit and sits beside me. I tilt my head as he kneels, cleaning the cut with gentle fingers. “Sorry, baby.” He says quietly. “I think this one’s my fault… when I tackled you.”
I smile, though it stings, and cup his jaw. “Not your fault, love. It’s that fucker I share blood with.”
He tenses at that. I pull out my phone to check the time, and blink down at a spiderweb of shattered glass. The screen is black.
“Of course.” I hold it up. “Dead.”
Reaper reaches into his pocket and pulls out his. Same. Cracked. Worthless.
“I need a phone,” I say, raising my voice slightly.
Wrecker shifts without a word. The girl clinging to his arm doesn’t even flinch. He tosses his phone across the room, and I catch it midair.
“Thanks,” I mutter, already dialing. The Serpents watching Matthew answers on the second ring. I don’t even wait for a hello.
“Matthew doesn’t move,” I snap. “He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t fucking breathe without permission. Tie his ass to a chair and keep him there. I’ll deal with him when I get there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they say quickly.
I hang up and toss the phone back to Wrecker, who catches it without looking.
“Sparrow?” Max’s voice is low, but there’s an edge to it now. He’s standing near the hallway, arms folded. “What the hell is going on?”
Oh. Right. We didn’t tell him yet.
I glance at Liam. He sighs and looks at Max. “Sebastian was there.”
Max’s body goes rigid. “Please tell me you shot that fucker?”
“No,” Liam says. “He threw a grenade. Slipped away before I could get a clear shot.”
“Son of a—” Torque stands from where he’s crouched near a girl with blood-stained knees. “What the hell is he doing state-side?”
Elias doesn’t even look up from his screen. “Nothing flagged on customs or private jet logs. Must’ve come in under a new alias. I’m calling the Serpents in Lisbon now. We need to get ahead of whatever he’s planning.”
Liam finishes the last stitch and presses gauze to the cut.
“There,” he says, brushing a thumb under my eye. “It might scar.”
I shrug. “Just add it to the list.”
He kisses my lips, softly.
Max comes to stand beside me, his jaw clenched, eyes still tracking everything.
“I should’ve been there,” he mutters.
“No,” I say, grabbing his hand. “You were exactly where you needed to be. And I’m still standing.”
He kisses the top of my head.
“Now,” I say, straightening. “Let’s help these kids.”
We got them out. We gave them a chance. Now it’s time to show them what hope feels like.