“No,” Declan says. “I didn’t know McKenzie was alive until you told me right now.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Fucking X is always up to something.”
“Okay, well, give me five minutes to get dressed, and we can go to the catacombs.”
Declan grins. “Youjusthad surgery. There’s no way you can leave, but I admire your willingness to try. ‘A’ for effort, bride.”
“I’m going to the catacombs with or without you.”
He frowns at me. “That’s the last place X wants you to be. No fucking way.”
“I’ll be more at risk if you’renotthere to watch out for me. Besides,” I say, narrowing my gaze at him, “if you don’t help me, I’ll tell June that you’re in love with her.”
The assassin’s cool demeanor fractures, his gaze widening. “Don’t.”
“Then come with me.”
“Fine,” he says, glaring at me. He throws up his hands with a loud groan. “X is going to kill me for sure.”
With Declan’s assistance, I rise from the bed, steadying myself against the wave of dizziness that greets me. Every movement is painful, every step laborious, but the need to save Ben and Xavier drives me forward.
Declan offers a supportive arm, and I shuffle to my suitcase to grab a large shirt and jeans. I change in the bathroom, cursingthe entire time. Finally, we make our way out of the room with me leaning heavily on the crow.
“At the speed you’re walking, maybe they’ll be gone before we get there,” Declan mutters.
I make a face at him before gingerly stepping over one of the bodies. “Will the hospital staff freak out with all the dead guys lying around?”
He shrugs. “Believe it or not, this is just another day in the Kent empire.”
Chapter 53
XAVIER
During the trip to retrieve the McKenzie heir, I lose count of the number of times I consider crashing the vehicle. There’s no escaping this. Under my father’s shrewd gaze, and with a gun pressed against my skull, I stay on the road, going as fast as possible. The sooner we get this over with, the better.
Beside me, Benjamin sits in stunned silence, working his jaw from side to side. His initial surprise at our arrival quickly turned to anger as soon as he grasped the full extent of the situation. I can’t blame him, but Delilah will always come first.
It’s the one thing we agree on.
Eventually, we arrive at our destination. My father, surrounded by four different men unknown to me, leads Benjamin and me into the catacombs hidden beneath the fraternity grounds. What Edward Donovan plans to do is treason. It’s the only explanation for why he has strangers guarding him instead of crows.
The path ahead, known only to leaders of the founding families, is dusty and moss-covered, giving the impression of disuse. But it’s the heart of the society, that place that holds themany secrets we have accumulated since South Harbor Colony was first discovered. The atmosphere is dense with centuries of legacy, tradition, and power.
My father walks ahead with a confident stride. Benjamin remains beside me, his face a mask of stoic resignation, aware of the danger that lies ahead. I follow with my senses alert and my muscles taut. Although I’m focused on the threats all around me, my thoughts always return to Delilah.
I’ve been obsessively checking my smartwatch, looking at the screen to check that her heart is beating steadily. That she’s alive.
Except she’s no longer at the hospital.
I frown at the notification displayed on the screen. Did Declan take Delilah away from there to keep her safe? It’s the only plausible explanation for why she’d leave. Regardless of the reason, it leaves me unsettled.
Our group enters a large stone chamber, lit by flickering torches and lined with ornate paintings of the original ten leaders of the founding families. My father comes to a halt before the largest painting, a portrait of a man with dark hair and blue eyes. The first Donovan.
“Here is the heart of the Order,” he says, his voice low and reverent. “This is where we come to honor our ancestors and the sacrifices they made for us. The history of our family is written on these walls, passed down from generation to generation.”
He leads us to the ancient oak door that marks the catacombs’ entrance. The wood has carvings of intricate symbols and runes, their meanings known only to those who founded the Order. It stands unyielding, a barrier between us and the secrets that lie beyond.
Guarding the door are two figures, two crows that have the highest honor of protecting the vaults. The “Keepers” step forward, their faces hidden behind ceremonial masks. Theirhands are raised, palms out, a silent gesture of welcome and respect. My father returns the greeting, his palms meeting theirs.
“Master Donovan.” The Keeper on the left nods to my father, his voice a low rumble. “And young masters,” he adds, acknowledging Benjamin and me with a curt nod. “How can I assist you?”
