That empathy slowly flows into a boiling rage, moving my sight back to the man who caused those marks. Gritting my teeth, I switch the safety off, and put my finger on the trigger as I aim it at his head. Just as I go to shoot, I hear a loud bang. This sound gives me a millisecond to drop my head just as a flying bullet zooms over me. I look up in confusion, using my scope to try to find its source. I see a glint of light and a small amount ofmotion from the top of the building I was just aiming at. As fast as my feet can carry me, I bolt with my weapons for coverage. Peering around the wall that leads to the stairwell entrance, I'm nearly shot again. If I can spook them, it may give me enough time to open the door next to me and use the stairs to escape.
I ready my gun and fire a round towards my attacker. It hits the bricks in front of them and I launch myself towards the door. Just as my fingers nearly make contact with the handle, a bullet zips past my arm and takes a bit of flesh with it. I move back to my previous spot and hold my arm in hopes to slow the bleeding. It’s nonfatal but hurts nonetheless. Looking around, my mind races with possible options as more bullets continue to be shot in my direction. The realization hits me that I have no way out. Scrambling for my phone one handed, I flip to Blake’s contact and press the call icon. It rings multiple times but I get no response. My frustration builds as I continue to call him over and over. Growling angrily, I find that group chat with the guys in my text messages and create a call. Much to my despair they don’t respond either. What the fuck is going on? As a last ditch effort, I scroll down my text messages until I see Ghost’s name and call him. I’m not sure why I even bother, but at this point I am desperate for any way out of this. The call is answered on the second ring. Static and white noise can be heard through the speaker causing me to check the screen, ensuring that the call was actually answered.
“Ghost, I don't know if you can hear me but please don't hang up. I am trapped on a roof with a gunman shooting at me. I’m hit and bleeding pretty good. I don't have an escape route. I need your help.” I spit out quickly in fear of him ending the call.
More static can be heard before an unfamiliar voice comes through the speaker, “La Sirena, you seem to be in a tough situation.”
“Who the fuck is this? Where is Ghost?” I growl into the microphone.
He chuckles before responding, “You see, we have some very important people here. So you will come quietly or my shooter there will continue to shoot until you either come out of hiding or die from malnourishment.”
My panicked anger causes my heart to pound in my chest and a cold sweat to spread across my skin. They have all of them. That's why no one answered the phone. I mull over his words and realize he’s backed me into a corner with no way out.
“Fine, where?” I say annoyance apparent in my tone.
“You will receive a text shortly.” He offers.
“You going to call your dog off?” I yell, trying to catch him before he ends the call.
“Already done.” Is all I hear before the line dies.
Carefully peeking out with my scope, I am met with vacancy on the adjacent roof. I slowly move to the door, still not trusting his words. Pulling it open, I fly down the stairs until I get to an elevator and use that to descend the rest of the way. Running out to the street, I book it to my car just as my phone buzzes. Opening it, I see a text from an unknown number giving coordinates to an abandoned building about an hour away. Punching them into my GPS, I start my drive to the destination. The city slips away as skyscrapers are replaced by trees. Streets reduce in number until my headlights are all I have forvisibility. Following the GPS, I pull up to a wooden drive and slowly a small cement building comes into view. No vehicles can be seen, so I take that as a hint that I am the first to arrive.
Collecting my belongings, I take a deep breath. Steadying my nerves and calming my mind from the racing thoughts for the safety of everyone involved, I climb out of my car. The night is so quiet, even birds sleep now. The only sound to be heard is a light breeze rustling nearby leaves. Sitting on the hood of my car, I accept my future in whatever that may involve. I can’t help but notice the smells of nutty oaks and decomposing leaves, as my nostrils flare. The breaking of twigs nearby causes my head to snap in their direction. Just as I do, a sudden blinding pain encompasses my head as I am thrown forward. My vision gives out but not before seeing bodies standing overhead, one holding a long object. Unable to fight the consuming darkness, I let it take me and slip away from the world.
Chapter Twenty
Lying Is A Sin
Twelve Hours Prior: Blake’s POV
I am practically going crazy from my plan of distancing myself from Everly. Her possibly dying because of me is something I could never live with. So I don't talk to her outside of the missions. I keep things professional and don't allow myself to feel anything for her, but that’s a fleeting notion as I get into my car in preparation to follow her on that mission she thinks no one knows about. My plan is to stake out nearby and watch in case she needs me. From what information I could gather from her laptop hard drive, she is taking out a drug lord. Some more digging on him shows multiple domestic violence charges towards women. What a scumbag. I stop at a gas station on the way to fuel up when my phone rings. Her name flashes on my screen as an internal battle of will fights in me. Succumbing to my need for her, I answer.
“Yes?” I say, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“Blake Mikaelson.” That is all they say. Their voice is robotic and emotionless. My mind goes into overdrive as I try to make sense of what is going on.
“Who the fuck is this?” I ask in an aggressive tone.
“I know your dirty little secret and even better, I have your siren.” Oh fuck no. Someone is getting a dirt nap today.
“Don't lay your filthy hands on her!” I yell into the phone. There is a low chuckle in response. I need to calm my nerves and find a solution.
“What do you want?” I use the computer in my car to start tracing the call but within a second it rejects. There’s a block on her phone.
“You.” They say simply.
“And what of her?” I need to know she’s alive and safe or I might just blow up the world.
“We won't touch your preciousLa Sirenaas long as you come nicely. Make it quick though, she’s a pretty little thing. She’s even more pretty when she cries.” Pure rage floods my veins as my breathing becomes erratic. I growl in response.
”Where?” I ask.
“The coordinates have been sent to your phone.” I don't even bother saying anything, but rather hang up in response.
My phone displays the coordinates promptly and I put them into the navigation system. Twenty minutes later, I’m driving through a long wooded backroad that leads to a small dilapidated building. Vines climb the walls as moss covers large areas of it. I step out of the car and look around taking note of the birds chirping off in the distance. Suddenly, a sharp pain bites my neck as I turn around to see two men standing there with one holding a syringe.
“What the fu-,” is all I can manage to say as my body begins to feel heavy and my steps are stumbled. Fighting to stay awake is futile as I fall down, causing my head to bounce off the ground. The men stand over me chuckling and the last thing I hear is them joking about catching the big fish. My eyes close and sleep takes over.
