60. Chapter 60
Maddox
My arm braces hard against Maylo’s throat, enough pressure that I feel him tense under it, but not enough to cut off his airway completely. Not yet.
Atticus stands at the doorway, blocking the exit. Controlled. Keeping a close eye out for anyone headed our way.
“Where is she?” I ask again, lower this time, because yelling isn’t helping and I’ve already done enough of that for the last forty-eight hours. “Do you have her?”
Maylo doesn’t struggle the way most people would. His eyes are steady, unfazed, like I’m just another inconvenience he has to tolerate. It pisses me off.
Arwen has been missing for two days. Two days of nothing but dead ends.
When it first happened, I lost it. I remember the moment it hit me. I felt the bond first, then found her bed empty. After that, everything turns into fragments. I called everyone I could think of. My father first. Then Duval. Valentine. Contacts who owe me favors.
Nobody gave me anything useful.
Atticus didn’t fare any better. I watched him break and pick himself up just enough to call his father, jaw locked so tight I thought he might crack a tooth. Whatever answer he got on that end didn’t help either. That much was clear when he threw the phone against the wall.
We went after Ryker next. Ready to threaten him within an inch of his life.
But he called his brother without hesitation. He looked panicked, which I questioned, but I trust him about as much as Amaya. It didn’t matter. He knew nothing either. When he asked to help us find her, I slammed the door in his face.
Which leaves us here.
And the only threads left to pull. Her other bonds.
Starting with Maylo.
The insane psycho crossed my path on our way to Alexi, like he were waiting for me. The guy gives me the creeps.
My hand presses harder against his throat.
“Talk,” I say, voice rough. “Don’t make this worse than it already is.”
Maylo exhales, almost thoughtfully, like he has all the time in the world.
That’s what really pisses me off.
Behind me, Atticus shifts. I know he’s anxious and wants to get his hands on Maylo too.
Without taking my eyes off him, I ask again, each word clipped. “Where is she? If you know anything—you need to start talking now.”
If he’s involved in this, I don’t care if he’s Arwen’s bond. I’ll tear the truth out of him piece by piece.
He just laughs maniacally.
“I always knew you were my favorite, brother,” Maylo says, still grinning even as I tighten my grip on his windpipe.
My arm stays locked against his throat. I don’t ease up on him. “What is wrong with you?” The words scrape out rougher than I intend. “Don’t you care? This is your bond.”
His expression flickers. I press harder, and the words come through my teeth. “Do you have any concern about what happens to her?”
Maylo’s eyes sharpen. Something dangerous passes through them. “Don’t you dare question my love for my stormcloud,” he hisses.
He breaks my hold with a sudden, effortless twist; the motion so fluid it’s like I never had him pinned at all. I stumble back half a step as he draws a sharp breath and straightens, rolling his shoulders.
Atticus starts towards him in fury, but I lift an arm to stop him. I close the distance between us, my teeth grinding together.
“Then tell me. Tell me where she is. I know you know things. Like last year when you cut my hand knowing the bond would complete.”
I can see the conflict behind his eyes.
Good.
That means I’m not completely off base, even if it sounds crazy.
Maylo exhales slowly through his nose. “I can’t,” he says, strained. “It would ruin everything.”
My fists clench at my sides. “Tell me what you mean.”
He shakes his head, and I see the crazy creep back into his eyes.
“He said we have to wait,” Maylo mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself now. “Everything happens when it’s supposed to. He promised she’ll be fine. We have to wait. We have to listen.”
I don’t have time for this nonsense. I snap. The wall beside him takes the hit as my fist drives straight into the drywall. It caves, plaster and dust exploding outward in a sharp crack that echoes through the hall.
Maylo doesn’t even jump and instead moves to check the hole.
“Maddox,” Atticus says, “someone’s coming.”
One of mine rounds the corner, breathing hard, like he’s run here the entire way here.
“Maddox,” he says, straightening, ignoring the mess and my bleeding knuckles. “They’ve made contact. We know who has her.”
He holds out his laptop, and I snatch it away without thinking. A photo loads on the screen and dread soaks me inside out.
The photos show the person knocked out and tied to a chair with ropes. There’s a black bag over her head, but I know her.
I spent hours studying her while she slept, my borderline obsession over my bonded. I know Arwen’s body like I know the sky is blue.
That’s her.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the laptop hard enough that the casing creaks.
Just one line of text beneath the image.
‘Come and get her.–V’
Cold, absolute clarity that wipes everything clean. Then the fury hits.
Something inside my ribs detonates and leaves nothing but white noise and violence behind it.
“Vex,” I growl.
How did he even get to her? How could he have gotten into the academy?
Atticus moves beside me, but I don’t register what he’s doing or saying. The image of her burning in my mind, overlaying everything else. All I can think about is the message. Come and get her.