Steel had no doubt that what they were about to do would be captured on any number of video doorbells, which was exactly why they’d brought a handy little device along with them. It would jam all Wi-Fi signals the area around the direct perimeter of the house they were targeting, allowing them to complete their mission unseen.
Handling the device was Thunder’s job, and he felt no need to micromanage the man. His team was as good as theywere because they all acted with autonomy. While he was the team leader, he trusted his men implicitly, which couldn’t be explained to anyone outside of them.
When you were dragged kicking and screaming into hell, you learned to trust those who suffered alongside you.
Without making a sound, the six of them crossed the small brick path leading to the porch. The lack of twinkling fairy lights or anything else Christmassy, and the gloominess of the comparison between this house and the others surrounding it, added to the darkness that lived inside him.
Led to a familiarity he couldn’t afford.
Picking the lock was much easier than it should be, and he felt a small pang of pity for the naïve person inside who believed they were keeping bad guys out.
Inside the house was as undecorated for Christmas as the outside. It was obvious that the occupant did not feel the Christmas spirit that everybody else seemed to rave about as soon as Thanksgiving dinner was eaten. The house was, however, a riot of color screaming at him from every direction. Bright pink and purple walls, vivid blue floorboards, splashes of yellows, reds, and greens dotted about in throw pillows, blankets, and an eclectic mix of armchairs and chairs sitting around a dining room table.
It was like stepping inside a rainbow.
The open concept of the house’s ground floor made clearing it easy, and when Dragon, Blade, and Lion once again nodded to tell him everything was as they’d expected, Steel headed for the stairs.
This was going to be easy.
Almost too easy.
Maybe he’d feel a little better about this if their target had even a chance to fight back a little.
But there was no way anyone could take on the six of them and win. Not even the five of them, because Thunder would be remaining downstairs, ready to move the van if anything changed and they needed to take another route out. Not that Steel was expecting it.
Upstairs, four doors were grouped around an open foyer. Three were open, indicating a bathroom and two guest bedrooms, but the fourth was closed.
It was behind that closed door that lay the answer to all their problems.
All their revenge.
Fair or not, they were getting justice for what had been done to them, no matter how they had to do it.
Creeping down the hall, Steel eased open the door in case the person inside the room was a light sleeper, but he may as well have not bothered.
Sprawled in the center of a king-size canopy bed, wearing a pair of bright pink unicorn pajamas, and partially covered by a dove gray sheet, and snoring softly, was their target.
Like taking candy from a baby, Steel crossed the room to stand on one side of the bed, Voodoo on the other, and Blade at the end of the bed, while Dragon and Lion waited by the door. None of them were expecting any problems, but better safe than sorry.
Waiting until Voodoo held up the syringe that would make transporting their captive easier, once he saw it, Steel reached over and brushed a lock of dark red hair off the sleeping woman’s face.
Creamy soft skin dotted with freckles, red lashes fanned out, a small smile on her cherub lips, the last smile Rose Gardner would ever give. However this played out, the woman would have little to smile about in the coming days and weeks.
Closing his fingers around her slim neck, he felt fear flooding her system as his touch roused her from sleep before her eyes snapped open in terror.
Forest green eyes stared up at him, cloaked in sleep for a moment longer before reality sank in and she began to thrash in his hold. For a tiny thing who couldn’t be more than five-foot-two, over a foot shorter than his six-foot-four frame, she fought like a wildcat, and he gave her a molecule of respect for it.
Pinning her arms easily, he nodded at Voodoo, who leaned in and pierced the bare skin on the woman’s bicep, injecting her with the sedatives.
“Lights out, little ladybug,” he murmured as the woman put up a valiant fight against the drugs flooding her system.
In the end, it did no good.
Unconsciousness stole her away, and Steel gathered her into his arms, a tiny flicker of guilt lighting in his chest at the knowledge that he had become this woman’s bogeyman.
Not enough to stop him, though.
He carried her down the stairs and out into the cold, binding her wrists and ankles once he had her in the van. Regret had no place on this mission. And as Thunder started the engine and they took off down the street, he knew that for their captive, hope would have no place where they were taking her either.
