Chapter 46
forty-six
Kit
“So you’re saying that Drayer Netherton has the children and is going to sell them in a day or two?” Kit bit out, making sure that he hadn’t misinterpreted a single facet of Gentry’s story.
The woman hadn’t stopped moving since waking up in his arms. First, she’d leapt to retrieve a notebook in a bag and had traced out a pattern of mountains. Then she’d started to pace as she’d recounted seeing the children in cages as Drayer Netherton planned.
To say the information had put Kit on edge was a bit of an understatement.
Every time he had snapped out a question, she’d grown increasingly annoyed, and this time was no exception. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she confirmed, shooting him a glare, “now you need to look at the picture I drew and see if you can identify that mountain range.”
“Okay.” He looked down at the paper she’d given him for a few seconds. “I can’t. The desert is a big place.”
Gentry snatched the piece of paper back from him and ran to her computer. “Then I need to run this against a topography map.”
Kit watched as she did just that, feeling a mix of hopeful, impatient, and furious.
Hopeful because his girl was getting him the information he needed.
It sounded a bit fantastical to him, but he knew that she’d never lie, not where the children were concerned.
Not to mention she was a million times smarter than he was.
The impatience and fury was because Benny and the others needed to be rescued ASAP. Gentry had seen them locked up in cages, which meant they’d been treated like dogs for over a week. Kit needed to make them pay for that, needed to be pointed in the direction of the monsters who’d caged his family.
“Fuck,” Gentry hissed, “I suck at drawing. The best I could get was an 85% match.”
Not about to point out that not just anyone could memorize and draw a mountain range after seeing it once, Kit leaned over her shoulder and took a picture of the coordinates.
He kissed the crown of her head. “Thank you, baby, I’ll get these to Mary and the others.
” He wasn’t sure that the enforcers would back them up based off a dream, but they could at least try.
Gentry looked up at him, her emerald eyes cold. “You shouldn’t just go in there all gung-ho,” she told him, “there were a lot of men. At least ten. We should plan this out first. They’re not being moved tonight.”
“They’re in cages,” Kit pointed out, already frustrated at the mere idea of waiting, “being treated like dogs.”
“Those bastards need killing,” Gentry agreed, “but we need to pool our resources first. Come up with a strategy before striking.”
Only then did Kit hear the nerves in her voice. He went still. “There’s something you’re hiding from me.”
She looked away. “Not really hiding. Drayer picked Amelia for a reason. She’s planning on performing an excision and then bonding to Amelia. I need to tune back in to figure out when they’re planning on doing that.”
It took Kit a few seconds to understand. Drayer was supposed to die when Wren excised him from Gentry’s soul. If it was the other way around… “You need to get the Weavers over here right now. It’s time to kill that bastard.” Before Gentry was killed and Amelia took her place.
“And then what, Kit? Drayer may die but what happens to Amelia after that? She’ll be surrounded with people who have no reason to keep her alive. She’ll just be evidence to be rid of. All the kids will be. That’s why we need a plan.”
“So… we’ll need to rescue the kids from the caves. At the same time as Wren performs the excision,” Kit said slowly.
The two of them looked at each other, the doubt mirroring on the other’s face.
Kit wanted nothing more than to gather Gentry in his arms and protect her from the risk she was about to take.
She was safest if she just had Wren perform the excision right away.
But she was waiting because she wanted to guarantee the safety of Kit’s family.
Visha would never do something so selfless, he thought. But then he immediately felt ashamed. He had to stop comparing the two. Gentry deserved a relationship untainted from the shadows of his past. From now on, he’d keep the two women separate.
He cupped her face, coaxing her closer so he could kiss her lips. “You’re more than I deserve. Thank you,” Kit murmured, wanting to make sure she knew how much he appreciated her.
Gentry smiled wryly at him. “You’re the one who’ll be doing the rescuing. I’m just the girl behind the desk. Now let me get everyone gathered so we can save those kids.”
That was when Kit decided he loved her.
To Gentry’s surprise, the Weavers came back to the apartment within an hour of her text, and they’d brought company in the form of a lean, batshit tracker, and a large dark-skinned man who also bore the Weaver mark on one muscular forearm.
“What is she doing here?” Kit growled, making no attempt to hide his disgust of Clea. He stepped in front of Gentry, which annoyed her to no end as she tried to assess the newcomers.
Clea smiled with all her teeth at the assassin. “I should be the one asking the same question, kid. After all, I did hire you for an extremely simple job, and yet”—she tapped her chin—“your pretty little target is still alive. And so are you, which I’ll say makes me pretty generous.”
“You blackmailed me to kill an innocent girl and then hunted Visha down.”
“Because that’s how blackmail works”—the female Weaver looked unremorseful—“I told you a bad thing would happen and it did.”
The large, dark-skinned man stepped forward just when it looked as though Kit were about to pounce on Clea. “That’s in the past,” he said simply, “now I understand that the Nethertons kidnapped witchlings. If you want real help retrieving them, then I suggest you and Clea put aside your grudges.”
Clea grinned a shit-eating smile. “I suggest you listen to Luke, kid. The enforcers already said they wouldn’t toe on Netherton property without proof of wrongdoing, and apparently those fuckers own that whole mountain system. You need us.”
“Clea,” Luke admonished, looking down at the woman.
Gentry almost gasped when the dangerous tracker simpered at the huge man.
The two Weavers looked at each other, Luke’s expression still impassive, although Gentry could swear he almost looked amused.
Then Clea caved. “Fine. Kit, I’ll be the first one to extend the olive branch.
I’m sorry for killing your girlfriend.” She almost sounded sincere.
Adrienne started snickering in the corner and whispered something about being whipped. Wren cooed as if she’d witnessed something greatly romantic.
And meanwhile, Kit grew bright red before deflating. “Ex,” he corrected gruffly, “and apology not accepted. She was someone’s daughter, you know. But fine, I admit that we need help saving my siblings.”
Gentry grabbed his hand and squeezed it, her heart lurching as she realized just how much brushing Visha’s death under the rug must’ve hurt him. Although she hadn’t liked the woman who’d almost killed her, she could respect that Kit’s feelings were more complicated than that.
“Gentry,” Wren said softly as the small blonde sat down in her usual chair beside a still-snickering Adrienne, “you’re the one who called the meeting.”
Oh shit. Yeah. She had called the meeting, but she hadn’t expected two bonus Weavers to arrive. In all reality, with his impressive physique and how he’d put a damper on Kit and Clea’s fighting, Luke seemed more well-suited to being in charge than her.
Kit squeezed her hand and let it go, giving her an encouraging smile.
Gentry stepped forward and cleared her throat.
“Um, yeah, I did call you all here. As you know, the Nethertons have kidnapped witchlings and intend to sell them in three days’ time.
I have the location. But there is also one witchling Drayer Netherton has selected to soul-bond himself to after he excises the bond he has with me.
He’s planning to do that in the morning the day before the other kids are sold. ”
“So it’s advantageous for us all if you maintain the bond until we strike,” Luke said, getting straight to the point, “and break it right before we attack.”
Fuck, but this guy is smart. It wasn’t often Gentry ever felt shortchanged in that department. It kinda annoyed her. “Yeah, pretty much,” she finished lamely.
Clea seemed to pounce right on her weakness. “Yes,” she purred, “he is very smart.” But then she shut up when Luke gave her another mother-hen look.
“So all we need to do now is coordinate the attack,” Adrienne said, “which I can help with along with providing some poisons. I’ll stay with Gentry and Wren during the attack.
I know basic defense, but I’m no fighter.
” She didn’t sound embarrassed in the least by the admission, but rather comfortable with the arrangement.
As Kit piped in and started feeding them in with the number of siblings who’d volunteered for the raid, Gentry sat down next to Wren and listened as Luke, Clea, Adrienne, and Kit began assessing the map she’d drawn of the cave system.
She’d only been able to provide a guesstimate on the number of guards to expect.
Would that be good enough? She began wringing her hands, nerves making her jittery despite how ungodly late at night it was.
“Hey”—freezing hands caught her own—“relax. You’ve done everything you’ve needed to do.” Wren smiled at her warmly. “Now you need to focus on making sure this excision goes perfect. That’s the only thing left. Luke and the others will rescue the kids.”
Gentry realized she was right. Short of spying on Drayer every waking moment, there was nothing she could do but prepare. “I still don’t know her name”—the confession gushed out of her—“those documents Adrienne gave me were dense.”
“And you’re smart and have a whole day to figure it out. Please breathe. I’m about 65% sure that I can excise you two just fine without a name anyway,” Wren said.
That new statistic knocked the air out of Gentry’s lungs. “65%?” She squeaked. She’d been hoping for a little better odds than that.
“Yeah.” Wren patted her on the knee. “Relax. I died once. There are worse things. Besides, you’ll still be able to talk to me. Two’s company, eh?”
Gentry wasn’t so sure that the necromancer was using that phrase correctly. “Thanks,” she muttered and gave the small blonde a sunny smile. She really did appreciate the attempt to cheer her up.
About an hour later, all the details had been squared away — the assault would be in the dead of night when they hoped the rotation of guards would be at its slimmest, and the sky wouldn’t give their approach away.
Luke and Clea would take the front charge with a small number of backup from Kit’s family.
Kit and the rest would try to find an entrance in the back.
The charge would be right at 0200 and would be right around the time Wren made the cut.