14. Ember #2
“Watch her head, Hy.”
“I’m being fuckin’ careful. Get the medic.”
“No,” I choke out. “I’m b-back.”
“Don’t talk, it’s alright.”
A sickening tang of blood riots over my tastebuds, and the ache in my tongue reveals I’ve bitten it. Somewhere underneath me, Hyland hurls a dark curse. Great iron bands of strength pull tight around my middle.
“Someone got a tissue? I think her tongue’s bleeding.”
“Common in epileptic fits,” another voice remarks.
“I don’t give a damn, Blaine! Clean it before I lose my mind.”
Reverent swipes cleanse the fluid from my mouth and lips. Hazily, I think I feel someone stroke my hair, dragging strands from my clammy forehead. Everything is still disjointed and muddied.
“Easy, baby. Come back when you’re ready. I’ve got you now.”
“H-H-Hy?” I croak.
“Yeah, red. It’s me.”
His callouses tickle my jawline, lips, nose. Lightly circling my face and forehead. Smoothing the goose pimples from my arms. Unclenching my knotted fingers. Everywhere he touches, the tension eases a fraction.
The hum of invisible wasps slowly quietens in my skull. I lick my suddenly dry lips, too parched to form another word. My throat is screaming out for some respite.
“Can I sit you up?” Hyland rumbles. “Here, we’ve got some water.”
“Just g-go slow.”
With surprising gentleness, I’m eased upright. His chest acts as a solid surface to support my spine. From this position, the scene around me settles further, unveiling several worried faces at once.
“Fuck me sideways, babe.” Axel shakes his head. “Scared the shit out of me.”
Forehead puckered, Warner’s face is starkly drawn. “You went down like a sack of bricks, Em. Why didn’t you tell us a seizure was coming on?”
“Hit s-so fast… I thought it was a h-headache.”
Kneeling next to him, Blaine passes over a half-full glass of water. It’s not the first time he’s seen me in this state, but even he seems shaken. Not to mention the concerned frowns of Hudson and Kade lingering in the periphery.
Accepting the glass, Hyland touches it to my lips. “Drink up.”
Cool liquid soothes the ache wrapped around my vocal cords. The drilling into my head continues, but at least the floating orbs have ceased.
“Do we need the medic in here?” Kade steps a little closer.
“Yes—”
I interrupt Hyland’s deep boom. “No.”
“Red…”
“They can’t help, I’m ok-kay.”
“Ember.” Hudson scrutinises me from his perch. “None of this can be classified as okay. You’re going to go to the medic to get checked over, even if it’s just for our peace of mind. No arguments.”
“Thank you,” Hyland snarks to himself.
Honestly, I’m too drained to argue with them.
“Can you carry her, Hy?” Warner straightens up, all business. “I’ll follow you to the med bay.”
“Yeah, I’ve got her. Lead the way.”
Vertigo almost threatens to pull me under again as I’m hoisted up in a bridal carry. When I cry in protest, both men pause. On the screens covering the meeting table, the raid is ongoing, with the Intelligence Department seemingly distracted by the chaos unfolding here.
Distantly, Archer’s voice crackles to life. “Come in, HQ. We have a situation here.”
“Dammit.” Kade strides over to the table. “I’m here, Falcon Team.”
“The plant manager has clammed up, but there’s a folder on his desk. Didn’t think much of it at first. Then we noticed it’s addressed to the Anaconda Team.”
A silent but deadly thunderclap of shock rattles over the entire room. I lift my head from Hyland’s shoulder, trying hard not to give in to a sudden rush of nausea.
“What?” Warner asks slowly.
Rubbing his mouth, Kade lowers into a seat. “Explain.”
“Uh, might be easier to show you. I’ll hold them up to Kyle’s body cam now.”
Not even Hyland needs prompting to inch closer to the laptop set up so we can all get a clear look. He’s tensed right up. On the array of screens, it’s dark at first. Then bright office lights are fired into action, unveiling Archer in his assault gear, using his teammate’s cam to clue us in.
“Come closer,” Archer murmurs. “Angle it over the paperwork.”
The feed shifts, bringing the top of a messy desk into view. Empty coffee cups, an overflowing ashtray, even discarded daily newspapers. This dude’s a slob. By comparison, the thin manilla folder seems out of place. It’s clean, crisp. New.
And labelled.
Anaconda Team, Sabre Security.
Come claim your prize.
Upon Hudson growling a command to open the folder up, Archer uses a gloved hand to flip open the glossy manila. There are no more notes inside. Words aren’t needed to communicate this message. It’s clear enough.
Pure, unfiltered rage scorches across my chest, causing my teeth to bare. I’m not the only one tensing up with the sole intent to attack. Only we can’t decimate pixels on a screen. Nor can we erase the image of multiple wide-angle photograph shots denoting Nolan Madden’s power.
“Blaine.” Inhumanly low-pitched, Hyland unclenches his grip on me. “Please take her.”
He doesn’t offer a single word of protest, flashing to Hyland’s side and pulling me into his arms. A look at our enforcer’s darkening expression says it all. The apocalypse is unfolding on his face, contorting the tanned skin and smile lines I love so dearly into a twisted caricature.
“Is that…?” Axel trails off.
“Yes.” Warner’s tone is completely vacant.
“How did he find them?”
Seismic booms cross the floor, carrying Hyland closer to the first laptop. “That’s exactly what I need to know.”
The sight on screen is fucking harrowing. Nothing can deny the stack of photographs that capture Hyland’s ex-wife and child in full, HD-quality detail. Luke leaving school. Jayce pushing a wooly hat on his head. Their modest family house. Even shots through the curtains inside their home.
Clearing his throat, Archer stacks the photographs then sets them aside. “That’s not all.”
I’m not sure I can get any woozier. My heart is tattooing itself to the inside of my flesh, one stomach-turning slam at a time. Then the images of Gracie are unveiled, and that bloodless organ crashes into the pit of my stomach.
“No.” Horrified, my voice is barely a whisper.
“What the fuck?” Hudson forms two threatening fists. “She has Sabre protection on detail.”
“Yet she’s been found.” Kade grips the back of his neck.
“How?”
“I don’t know, brother. But I’m going to find out.”
None of us can delay the impact of the train running out of control on its tracks towards us. Hyland’s family, threatened. Gracie, found and targeted. Her safe haven singled out after all she’s been through. One by one, Madden is vying to pick off the people we hold dear.
“This can’t be happening.” My voice trembles.
Compact muscle bunches around me, scented with peppercorns and bergamot. Blaine’s scarred face has drained of all colour, turning the deep slash down his cheek a vivid shade of dark purple.
“It’s happening.” His nostrils flare. “And my father won’t stop until he’s killed them all.”