After making sure no one is behind us, I enter the church after Hawke. Fortunately for the EFW, the altar is empty, and no one is sitting in the pews. A bunch of heathens, so… go figure.
We move quickly and veer to the left when we see the sign for the crypt. I hurry down the spiral staircase, my heartbeat pumping adrenaline into my veins.
I’m so close. I’m so fucking close, angel.
Round and round we go, climbing down until the air becomes thick and cool and the scents shift from scented oils to rotten flesh. The stairs are ending, and I look around through my night vision goggles, trying to locate the start of the tunnel.
But it’s not here.
The crypt is a fucking dead end.
Up above us, the first gunshot reverberates against the brick walls, getting my attention.
“Fuck!” I shout. “Fletcher lied. We need to get out of here!”
More gunshots fly above us, and I turn back toward the staircase. Voices start pouring in with an echo.
“We’ve got you, motherfucker,” one shouts.
I can hear heavy footsteps descending, and I position myself at the back of the crypt so I can shoot them as they come into view. But Hawke gets my attention in silence, pointing to the wall under the staircase. There’s a hidden door there. I nod and pull the trigger. A body tumbles down, devoid of life. Another one jumps over him, as if he couldn’t care less that he’s dead, and I shoot again.
“Go. Go!” I shout, and Hawke leaves my side to figure out the tunnel entrance while I cover him. I’m not so lucky with the next fucker, though. He dodges my bullets and jumps in front of me, pointing his gun at my head. But by the time he pulls the trigger, I’m already behind him.
“Be faster next time,” I whisper into his ear. The sound of his skull hitting the stone sends a crack through the air. I turn around, sending another shot into someone else’s chest as he comes down. “Hawke, talk to me.”
“Almost got it. There’s a fucking code on this thing. It needs a fingerprint.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say, crouching down next to the man lying lifeless at my feet. “Cover me. I’ll give you what you need.”
Hawke takes over, and I focus on the simple task in front of me that brings me more joy than it should. His blood hasn’t cooled yet, seeping onto the cement as I work quickly. My knife moves up and down, and in less than a minute, I have what we need.
I wipe the blood on his clothes, and call out for Hawke, tossing the dismembered finger over to him.
“Here’s your fingerprint,” I say. At this point, there are so many corpses on the staircase that every new man trying to come down ends up cursing and turning back. They’ll meet us again in the tunnels, that I know.
But so will we.
A beeping sound tells me Hawke has unlocked the damn door. I pull it open, facing the long, dark corridor ahead. Torches line up the walls… it reeks of death… and a bunch of cockroaches scurry away from my combat boots when I step inside. Instantly, anger surges within me at the thought of Dove being kept in this fucking shithole. Her skin has touched these walls. Her feet have walked these hallways among the rats and roaches. My pure,perfectangel…
I start walking, pounding my feet on the concrete as I stare into the nothingness ahead of us.
I don’t care who hears us at this point.
I don’t care how loud we are anymore.
Let them know Rowan fucking King has arrived.
thirteen
Dove
Flashes of light streak across the ceiling like lightning in a violent storm, and the crack of bullets shatters the night. I clutch the sheets under me, my heart pounding fast. Somewhere close a window shatters, the sound cutting through the chaos, and a scream escapes my lips before I can stop it.
Are they fighting? Has Cole started fighting back?
The urge to look outside clashes with the fear freezing me in place. My warm blanket feels like the only shield I have, but hiding underneath makes me angry at my cowardice.
Get up. Get the hell up right now.
