Xavier
The warehouse is buried deep in a part of the city where you don’t leave your car unlocked. It’s squeezed between a dozen other buildings, most abandoned, or they at least look it. Graffiti covers the gray brick, and heavy chains hang around doorknobs—bar the place where we believe Ryker is.
The night is heavy, and a flickering streetlamp adds to the creepy ambience but offers decent cover. Our men are split between the buildings either side of Ryker’s, others situated behind and in front of it.
Yale is on the roof opposite, set up and ready to go.
I hunker low as I move from building to building, dark clothing helping me blend into the shadows. My heart rate is steady, and I don’t allow myself to think about Silence. My focus needs to be on my brother.
“I hope you’re not rusty with that rifle,” I whisper.
Yale chuckles in my earpiece. “I bet a fucked-up part of you hopes I am so you can claim to be better than me.”
I smile, crouching behind a stack of boxes, a foul smell coming from them. Dirt-stained snow is all around me, thick clumps frozen and clinging to abandoned sidewalks, and the closest streetlight flickers. Just what I need: a horror movie cliché.
“Heat signatures show six people in there.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I don’t suppose they have their names floating next to them, too? That’d be super helpful.”
“Unfortunately, no. Two are on the bottom floor, one a floor up, and three on the top. The windows are covered, which is fucking annoying, but if Zayden is in there, I’m guessing he’s top floor.”
I sigh and rest my head against the wall. “Of course he fucking is.”
“Hope you got your cardio in.”
Edging around the corner, I peep the fire escape that looks like it’s seen better days. The bottom ladder is secured to the first platform, which means it’s a fair way up before I can even grab the thing, and even then, it might not hold my weight.
I roll my shoulder and crack my back before crouching. “Remember when we were kids—” I run, jump, and reach my arms out, grabbing onto the bottom rung of the ladder and swinging for a second—“and we’d break into the old house down the block?”
Yale laughs. “Yep. You said it was haunted.”
My biceps burn, and I grunt as I pull myself up, throwing my leg over onto the metal platform and rolling onto it. “It fucking was,” I wheeze. “I saw a ghost.”
“You did not see a ghost,” he chides. “It was a shadow.”
“A shadow of a ghost.”
“Ghosts don’t have shadows.”
“How do you know that if they don’t exist?” I take my time as I ascend the metal steps, pausing occasionally when the fire escape feels like it might give in entirely. “Zayden saw a ghost.”
“No, Zayden said he saw something,” Yale says. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Living my Spiderman dream,” I whisper, reaching the top.
Instead of going through the blacked-out window, I grab the edge of the roof and pull myself up.
I flop onto my back and exhale deeply, staring at the night sky.
As I wait for my heartbeat to slow, a question rises to the forefront of my mind. “Do you think Silence would marry us?”
My brother pauses for a moment. “Not legally.”
“Fuck legalities. We can have a ceremony and shit, can’t we?” I sit up, wiping sweat from my brow. I look to my left and sigh. “Seven, asshat.”
“Seven ceremonies?”
“No, seven men. There’s a guy on the roof.”
The man smoking gapes at me, blinking in confusion. I leap to my feet, and he’s more focused on not dropping his cigarette, so I reach him before he manages to flick the safety off his gun. I snap his neck, catching him before he falls and lowering him to the ground.
“Shit, sorry.”
“You fucking will be,” I breathe. “Z better be here, because we can’t exactly cover up this guy’s death.”
I go to the rooftop door, easing it open.
Light glows down the stairwell, along with thumping music mixed with sound effects used for long-term torture.
It’s ear-achingly loud, and now I know for sure my brother is here, but I need a visual before I make any drastic decisions.
I move forward, counting each step, anything to keep my mind busy, and when I finally reach another door that leads to the top floor, I pause.
The music thumps through the metal, and I press my back to the wall.
“SITREP,” I whisper to Yale.
“Two on the top. One is moving to the middle floor.”
I take out my gun. “I’m not gonna be able to hear you once I go into that room. I’ll break the windows so you can see it.”
“Okay. I’ve notified the others than you’re going in, and I’ve got your back. And yes.”
I check the gun is loaded and flick off the safety. “Yes, what?”
“I think she’d marry us.”
My grin spreads wide. “Good. ’Cos she doesn’t have much of a choice.”
He laughs. “Be careful.”
One breath is all I allow myself before shoving the door open. The music assaults my ears, but I clock Ryker’s man quick as he whirls to face me, and I shoot him twice in the chest. Zayden is tied to a chair, his back to me, head covered in a hood, and I shoot at the windows.
Nothing happens.
“Fuck,” I whisper. It’s not glass. Wood, maybe? I stride over to the planks and pull, but they’re nailed on. My heart hammers as I stalk over to the tape player on the floor, and I turn it off. The silence is disorientating, and I stand.
“Z—” I pull off the hood.
Empty eye sockets.
Exposed windpipe.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
I stumble back, the wind knocked out of my lungs.
“X?” Yale is talking frantically. “X, clear the windows!”
His voice is shrill, the ringing in my ears almost drowning him out, and a cold sweat peppers my brow.
My hand is trembling as I press my finger to my ear, my attention still fixed on the body, blood pumping from his throat. “Not Z. He’s not here.”
The body before me is similar. It’s wearing his clothes. But it isn’t him.
“He knows,” Yale rushes out. “X, get out of there.”
“He could still be here!”
“Get the fuck out of the—”
A screech pierces my ear, and I wince before yanking out the earpiece and tossing it. I work my jaw, trying to get the shrillness to fade.
“It’s probably best if you don’t fight.” A voice from the door has me whirling, and Ryker grins at me. “Yale will just die quicker.”