Twisted Serendipity (The Sovereigns #2)

Chapter 1

I’m in trouble

Declan

Instead of taking the stairs, I sit on the railing and slide down while my brother tells me what’s unfolding on our father’s estate via the com unit in my ear. I rush to exit the watchtower before security surrounds me.

“Two waiting for you at the door,” Connor says.

An explosion cracks the wall in front of me. The security team’s orders are to find the escaping sniper. Any assassin worth his salt would vacate his nest right after the job was done. Catching a shooter is rarely easy, but with the drones, it’s much easier than without them.

The surveillance team sent only two people, letting the drones do the rest of the recon.

This tells me my father has relied on technology far more than I’d expect him to be comfortable with, given his skepticism toward almost everything that has to do with tech.

I doubt this emergency response was his idea.

It must be his cousin Ivan’s. The guy started out in IT, and our intelligence on him says he spent two years in Dry Desert Valley as an intern developing defense systems.

My brother curses.

I don’t like it when he curses.

“Two more. Four total. They have thermal readers. Disabling them now. Hold.”

I roll my eyes. Of course I’ll hold. I have no choice.

“Did you roll your eyes?”

I suppress a snicker.

“Two more. Six total. Five seconds out.”

Six. Damn it. I shrug off my drag bag and slide it into the corner, then withdraw a knife and wait for the door to open.

“Good luck, brother,” Connor says.

A pair of men in tactical gear, guns drawn, burst into the guard tower. My only advantage is that I can see them while they can’t see me, but that disappears quickly when they enter the first level of the tower. A man checks behind the door where I’m hiding.

I jump and slice.

One down, still twitching. Second one, I handle faster.

When he falls, he doesn’t twitch. I expect the others to come in, but they close the door instead, trapping me inside.

Instinctively, I grab the handle. Locked.

Since I’ve been found, you’d think I could speak into the com and ask my brother what’s going on, but that’s not how this works.

I want the enemies to think I work alone.

But I never do. My brother and my uncles always have my back. I need an update. When my brother doesn’t speak into my com unit, I tap it.

“I’m trying!” he shouts into my ear.

I don’t like it when he yells. It tells me he’s freaking out, which stresses me out. But I remain calm and wait for him.

On the other side, I hear men speak in a language I don’t understand.

Makes sense since some of these are hired mercenaries and not men loyal to my father.

The loyal ones are probably running now, since the cops will swarm the place as soon as they drive up the mountain and set up a perimeter for the forensic team that will scoop up my father’s brains.

Drilling sounds come from the other side of the door.

I tap my com unit again.

“You need another way out,” Con says. “I’m searching for it.”

We already mapped the guard tower. Unless I jump from the top, seven stories above, this door is the only way out.

Outside, the hammering stops, and the men’s voices seem to be growing more distant. Uh-oh.

“Uh-oh,” Con echoes my concern. “You’re trapped, and they’re planting dynamite all around the base of the tower. They plan to bury you under rubble. Genius. Why didn’t I think of that?”

I roll my eyes.

“You need to take cover.”

“No shit!” I whisper-hiss as I grab my bag from the corner. I sling it over one shoulder and take a turn around the ground level. Stone walls. Nothing else, nothing more. No pillars supporting the structure, so I have no way of knowing where it’s strongest and might withstand the explosion.

“What are you doing?” Con asks.

“Climbing back up,” I answer because I doubt anyone can hear me. If they’re near me, they’re going to die in the explosion too.

“Whatever for?”

“How much time do I have?”

“Errr, I don’t know when they’ll blow it. Soon, I should think.”

“Estimate.”

“Seconds. I think they’re waiting for the convoy to clear.”

“What convoy?”

“The one Endo’s chasing. But you already know that, don’t you, Declan? Instead of getting the hell out of the nest as soon as Dad’s head hit the ground, you watched the aftermath.”

“Endo came under fire.”

“That’s his problem, not yours. You were supposed to exit instantly. Now your exit has no lube and you’re going to bleed.”

I burst out onto the roof of the tower and unhook one end of the rope extension from my waistband. I loop it around the flagpole. Bullets whistle past me as their gunmen try to take me down.

I rip the pin from a smoke grenade with my teeth and throw it, then jump after it. My rope isn’t long enough to reach the bottom, so halfway down, before the rope tightens and slams me against the stone side of the tower, I unhook myself and free-fall.

The dynamite blows.

The explosion hits the back of my body, propelling me forward. I land hard on my right side, hurting my right leg and hitting the side of my head on something. I do my best to stay conscious and in control, but my ears… I can’t hear a thing.

My vision blurs.

Damn it.

Con’s muffled voice jars me back from going under. “Dec. Declan. Get up and run. Do you hear me? I know you’re not dead. I can feel your heart beating.”

No matter what kind of woo-woo Connor’s into at any given moment, there’s no way he can feel my heart beating. He’s sitting in front of a computer monitoring my heartbeats, so he knows I’m alive.

Barely.

There’s smoke everywhere. Dizzy, I push up on my arms and cough. I hear the sirens, which means I have to get out of here. But for once, the cops are useful. All the bad guys are fleeing the scene, too worried about being arrested to hunt me. They can do that tomorrow.

I sit up and shake my head before attempting to stand.

And I fall.

“What are you doing?” Con asks.

I rise again and wipe the liquid coming out of my right ear. It’s blood. The explosion ruptured my eardrum. The vision in my right eye remains blurred. I probably have a concussion. I try to take a step, and my leg folds at the knee.

I look down and see I’ve got a broken or sprained ankle.

“Get out of there!” Con shouts, but my busted eardrum muffles his voice. I know he’s shouting because I know my brother better than I know myself. Or anyone else in the world.

I wobble as fast as I can, contemplating the fact that I might have to destroy my drag bag.

“What are you doing?” Con asks again.

“Having tea, motherfucker. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Why are you moving so slow?”

“Because I jumped off an exploding tower, and that hurts.”

“That was your idea. Now you deal with it.”

“Where’s my uncle?” I ask. He’s his uncle too, but this is how we talk.

“I don’t know. I disconnected from him to focus on you.”

“Reconnect so I know he’s safe.”

“No. Where are you hurt?”

I dismiss his concern. “I need a way out of here, Con.” I stop at the edge of the mountaintop property. It means I need to get down from this elevation and get lost within the big city.

I drop my bag on the ground and use it as a sled to slide down the steep decline. The city of Selnoa is down there, looking as majestic and beautiful as ever. I hate her. Some of the worst scum in the universe live here and shape what people in the city can do and how they go about their lives.

My uncle Endo tells me not to hate the city because the city itself isn’t the issue, but I can’t do that.

I attach emotions to places where I feel like crap.

A city can be hated, along with people who made me feel that way while I was there, and this city represents all the things I hate about my dad.

And I say hate because I still hate him, even though he’s probably being covered with a sheet by now.

That thought gives me pleasure. I smile.

That’s when I slide onto the road and a car hits me.