And that was what made right triumph over wrong.
Isn’t it?
At least, I hoped so.
The convoy rolled to a stop, and Dec gave the order to leave the cars behind. Boots landed on gravel, and car doors quietly closed. Concentration levels of the men added to the cauldron of emotions, and I wiped away a combination of fever and sweat from trying not to listen.
Once Nila was safe and Hawksridge secured, I would need to be alone. I knew the symptoms of system failure. I knew when I’d reached my limit. A wash of nausea climbed up my gullet, and my hands shook as I wrapped fingers around the gun Dec handed me.
I was borderline.
Overtiredness and over-empathy would end up killing me if I didn’t kill Cut soon.
“Come on.” I waved for the men to line up behind me, a black line patrolling from the stables toward the Hall.
Leaving the cars behind, I guided the men up the hill toward the house. We stuck to the trees as much as possible, moving in short waves. Weapons were drawn as we crested the hill and made our final descent.
I didn’t say a word, too focused on seeking weakness and attack points of my family’s home. I searched the shadows for Kill and his men, trying to see where they hid, but spotted no one.
The closer we got to the Hall, the more my heart pounded.
V and Tex shadowed my every move and luck kept us shrouded long enough to sidle up to the ancient architecture and fan out around the buttresses of Hawksridge.
Left or right?
I couldn’t decide.
Dining room wing or staircase leading to boudoirs and parlours?
The wind howled over the orchard, sounding like someone screamed.
I froze; my head tilted toward the dining room wing...the ballroom wing.
The noise came again.
Haunting.
Lamenting.
Dragging chills over my flesh.
It came again, shrill and cut short.
It wasn’t the wind.
Fuck surprise.
Fuck the regimented ambush.
Fuck everything.
Nila!
I held my gun aloft and charged.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nila
