Anger grabbed Logan, and he tapped his ear. “Any security system in place?”
“Not that we’ve found,” the male said.
Logan tensed and stood. “Let’s breach between patrols.” He wouldn’t even need to put anybody down. “Go in the front door but watch out for the weird burst of air they seem to have for security.”
Garrett released his weapon from its thigh strap. “The Fae are too few in number to be fucking with us.”
Logan shook his head. “They don’t understand the need to be all in or out with allies. There should be three forces of Cyst protecting this place since they’re allies.”
“Probably don’t trust the Cyst completely,” Garrett noted, pivoting around the wall.
Logan followed. “Try not to kill anybody, if possible.” He didn’t want Mercy too pissed at him.
His earbud crackled. “Breach now. You have four minutes until the next patrol goes by the front door.”
“Copy that,” Garrett said, ducking and running full bore for the wide wooden door. He opened it, and Logan edged to the side as a powerful burst of air exploded between them.
Logan went in low and fast, going left.
Garrett followed him and shut the door.
Quiet filled the darkened three-story gathering room. Nice architecture—great elements. Garrett held out the phone with the live feed and turned to follow a narrow hallway that led to a rough wooden door with a guard on the other side.
Logan gave a hand motion, and Garrett nodded, slipping the phone in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he wrenched open the door.
Logan was on the soldier before he could turn, smashing him face-first into the wall and then wrapping an arm around his neck. The guy put up a decent struggle, but with his oxygen cut off, he went limp within a minute. Logan settled him on the stairs and frisked him, finding immortal-style guns and knives.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “Keep an eye out for a silver gun with red markings on the side.” They needed to get their hands on a blaster.
“Copy that.” Garrett took out the phone to check the live feed. “We’re still good.”
Terrible. The security was just horrendous. If Mercy was there, she’d be vulnerable to attack in a way the Fae just hadn’t contemplated. While their weapons were superior, their training sucked. He shook his head, leading the way down the rough stone steps.
The satellite feed showed the occupants in the same place as earlier.
Garrett poised himself and kicked the door in.
Logan rushed inside and tackled the closest soldier. This one punched up, making Logan see stars. Finally. Somebody with training. He struck hard and fast for the larynx, partially turning to see Garrett fighting with Niall. Shit.
The air shimmered.
Logan flipped his soldier over, yanking a gun out of his waist. Red markings. Excellent. Rolling, he turned and fired at Niall before he could finish teleporting. The Fae king flew back into a wall and slumped down, out cold.
Pain ripped into Logan’s shoulder as the soldier stabbed a blade into him.
Growling, he yanked it out and plunged it into the guy’s eye. The Fae shrieked in pain and slumped unconscious. “You’ll heal.” Logan pushed off him and faced his brother as Garrett rose to his feet.
Sam was tied to a chair, his face and chest bare and bloody. He smiled, and blood dribbled from his mouth. “I didn’t call for you.”
Garrett moved to release the restraints, jerking his head at Niall. “What about him?”
Logan tucked the blaster at his waist. “Let’s bring him along.” He winced. “We need a place to question him, though.” He couldn’t let Mercy see him torture her king. It just wasn’t right.
Chapter 32
Mercy paced the kitchen, her body humming with energy. If she were a battery, she’d be at ninety percent. She could probably teleport now. Yet waiting until she was fully charged was much smarter.
Yeah, right. She wanted to make sure Logan was all right before she left. How ridiculous was that, considering he was going to hate her? Or at least be furious. Even so, she couldn’t leave yet. They should’ve been back hours ago. Where the hell were they?
