“I don’t know. I swear it.” Her gaze strayed to the very dead Madame Dupont. “You accused Estelle of calling them here. Why? What could she have to do with any of this?”
Willow glanced at Razor before deciding to answer. “Someone had my sister killed. Now, they’re after me.”
“Oh, no.” The older woman grasped Willow’s bloodstained hand. “I am so very sorry. And you think Estelle was involved in something as terrible as that? But why? What could she possibly have to gain?”
Razor grunted. “We’ll never know now. Could’ve been money. Could’ve been coercion. Whatever her reasons, she called those bastards here.”
Madame Gauthier closed her eyes and silently spoke a prayer before looking at Willow and Razor with firm resolve. “I don’t know how to apologize for Estelle’s betrayal. Or for what happened to your sister, Willow. If there is anything I can do to help make some of this right . . .”
“There is,” Razor said. “First, I’m going to get Willow out of here. You said the Order funds the shelter now?”
“That’s right. For the past several years now.”
“Good. Then I want you to call your contacts with them and tell them what happened. They’ll send someone out to handle everything from there. Tell them I’ll be in touch to explain when I can, and nothing more. Do you understand?”
She nodded agreeably. “I understand.”
While he had his own back channels to the Order, after what happened here tonight he didn’t want anyone else calling the shots when it came to Willow and her wellbeing. No one was getting near that flash drive she’d found in her old room, either. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the warriors of the Order—in fact, aside from his own brothers, the Order members were the only other individuals he knew who couldn’t be swayed by promises of money or power.
But he wasn’t ready to go there yet.
Someone had just tried to light him up with an industrial-sized dose of UV so they could get their hands on Willow. This shit was beyond personal now.
Until he uncovered whatever was on Laurel’s flash drive, this fight belonged to him.
As he moved to retrieve a few weapons off the corpses littering the floor, Willow helped Madame Gauthier get to her feet.
“What about my poor girls upstairs?” the director asked. “What’ll I do about them?”
“They’re fine,” Razor said, stowing a semiautomatic pistol in the back waistband of his pants. “They’ll be asleep until noon tomorrow. That should give the Order plenty of time to come in and clean up. Before we go, I’m going to scrub their memories of tonight. They won’t remember a thing that happened here.”
“Thank you—both of you.” She looked at Willow once more. “Are you sure you’ll be safe if you leave? Where will you go, dear?”
“Never mind where she’s going.” Despite the woman’s apparent innocence, Razor practically growled at her well-meaning question. “If more men like these follow us before we’re out of the city I’ll be coming back to look for you—and you won’t see me coming until it’s too late.”
Madame Gauthier swallowed hard, her eyes wide. “I only meant—”
“I don’t care what you meant. Just do what I told you.” He glanced at Willow. “I’m going to deal with the girls upstairs. I only need a couple minutes. Then we’re out of here.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He stared at her, feeling something break loose inside him at the sight of all the blood that covered her hands and clothing. Not her blood, thank fuck. But all it did was remind him of how damned close he’d just come to losing her forever.
Before he could think better of the idea, he crossed the body-strewn floor in two strides and pulled her into his arms. She crushed against him, making his gunshot wounds scream in protest.
He didn’t care. Right now, she was the only thing that mattered.
Willow had survived the attack unharmed. She was still breathing, still warm and soft against him. Feeling her in his embrace made him feel the strangest sense of profound relief . . . and bone-deep terror.
She was safe for now.
She was alive.
He was grateful as hell for that particular miracle. But coming this close to losing her had made him certain of one thing he didn’t fully understand until now: If anything ever happened to this precious woman, he would burn down the whole fucking world in his fury.
CHAPTER 14
They left out the back of St. Anne’s after Razor took care of mind-scrubbing the two Breedmate girls.
