Janie held back a wince. “Are you still working with the Kurjans?” If he traded her to Kalin, she might have a chance at surviving. She’d go along with the plan if she could keep Garrett alive.
“No.” Prophet Guiles tugged her toward the doorway. “The demons have a much better offer for me. In fact, I just informed Suri that three of the Kayrs brothers are in his local. Let’s hope he gets my message in time.”
God. They’d walked into a trap. “If you’ve hurt any of them, I’ll kill you myself, Prophet,” Janie ground out between clenched teeth.
Garrett angled around to the right. “What’s your plan with Janie?”
Prophet Guiles shrugged. “Alas, I do believe Suri wants her head cut off.” Guiles wrapped an arm around her waist from behind to push her along. “Although she’s quite charming. Maybe she can get Suri to change his mind and let her live. How are you on your knees, sweetheart?” His breath smelled like old coffee and stale bread.
Garrett hissed out air and stalked closer. “One chance, Prophet. Let her go, and I won’t cut off your head.”
Janie blinked. She’d never heard that tone from her younger brother.
Guiles paused at the doorway, his gaze on his guards. “Kill him.”
“No.” Janie struggled and grimaced as the needle dug into her neck.
“Hold still,” Garrett ordered. Then he smiled at the two guards. “Let’s go, assholes.” He dropped into a fighting stance, anticipation lighting his lips. Blood matted the front of his shirt, but the wound appeared to have closed.
The first guard shoved his gun in his waistband and drew out a knife. “I’ve wanted to cut off your head for decades.”
Garrett snarled. “I’ve only lived two decades, asshat. What’s your problem?”
The second guard’s blade shone bright in the fluorescent lights. “Let’s just say the bounty on your head will guarantee we live long and well.”
Garrett removed a wicked double-edged knife from his back pocket. “You’re not collecting that bounty.”
“Drop the knife, or I kill your sister,” the prophet said calmly. “Suri will no doubt grant me asylum for killing her, even though I believe he wants to do the deed himself.”
“No,” Janie whispered. “Keep the knife, G.”
Garrett’s face hardened. His shoulders went back, and his knife clattered onto the floor.
Terror shrieked through Janie.
Then a voice. “What’s going on?”
She blinked. A voice in her head. “Zane?” she thought back.
“Yes.” He sounded out of breath . . . and in pain? “Where are you?”
God. It was true. She’d mated, and she could hear his thoughts. So damn quickly. “Help. We’re in the infirmary, and they’re trying to kill Garrett.”
Quiet reigned for the briefest of moments.
Then all hell broke loose.
Zane and Dage dropped into the infirmary, taking in the scene quickly.
Dage went for the two guards, while Zane grabbed Guiles’s arm and yanked. Two hard, quick punches to the prophet’s face, and he went down.
Zane turned back toward Janie, his face pale, his eyes furious. “Hold still.” Reaching out, he grasped the syringe and yanked.
Pain pricked her skin, and she winced, her hand going to the injury. “Holy ow.” Then she turned to help her uncle, but Dage already had one guard on the ground, while Garrett repeatedly punched the other in the face.
Zane crossed muscled arms. “I thought we agreed you’d go underground while I took out Suri.”
“You ordered and I didn’t follow,” Janie snapped. Enough was enough. She had a job to do, and her mate would damn well figure that out. Putting her hands on her hips, she took a deep breath.
