“We ain’t amateurs, AJ,” Jas mutters.
Connor crouches next to his captive, who’s bleeding from not one but both arms. “You idjits gotta be the worst infil crew I’ve ever seen. My grandmother could’ve made it farther, and she’s been dead for ten years.”
“Yeah, because that’s the fucking point.” Hardison grabs my arm, real fear in his eyes. “They were only there to waste our time.”
Grace.
He’s half a step behind me as we bolt for the door, race down the hall, and burst into Grace’s room.
Her bed is empty, the sheets spilling onto the floor. Parker’s laptop is in two pieces. Next to it, a partial footprint smeared in blood.
Fuck!
A weak groan from behind me has me pulling my gun.
Marvin.
He’s slumped against the wall, a bright red goose egg swelling at his hairline.
“Where. Is. Grace?” I roar, hauling him to his feet. My fists ache with the overwhelming need to rearrange his anatomy in a way that would not support life.
“Parker,” he manages. “She…took…Grace. Said…she had to. That some prophet guy…was her savior. I tried to stop her, but she” —he winces— “she’s stronger…than she looks.”
“Don’t you dare,” I growl. “Don’t you dare put this on her.”
I shove Marvin toward Hardison. Gone is the snark, the lazy grin, all traces of sarcasm. What’s left is nothing but ice and steel. He secures Marvin in a headlock so fast, the bastard barely gets a breath in.
“Try that again,” Hardison grits out. “And if you so much as say her name, I’ll end you right here.”
Marvin claws weakly at Nate’s arm. I slam a knee into his groin for good measure. He folds, whimpering like the coward he is.
“Parker would die before she let anyone touch Grace,” I spit, terror and rage battling for control. In the end, rage wins. “She wouldn’t leave her side for five fuckin’ minutes. You think you can sell me that bullshit? No. This was you. All you.”
“I’d…never…” he wheezes.
“Last chance, asshole. Tell me where Grace is, or I let Hardison here snap your neck like a dry twig.”
Marvin chokes, then…laughs.
“In twenty-four hours, Nova’s sacrifice will bring salvation to the entire Blessed Flock. You can’t touch me, Stone. Nothing can. Not now. Not ever.”
“Her name is Grace.” I press the SIG to his temple hard enough he flinches. “And the only one dying tonight is you if you don’t talk.”
“Cap,” Hardison cuts in, his voice sharp. “Not here. Not in this building. We take him somewhere private. And then we make him beg.”
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw pops. “We don’t have time for private. Grace?—”
“Has twenty-four hours.” Hardison’s voice dips so low, it’s barely a guttural whisper. The emotion in it…I’ve never heard from him before. “Hopefully Parker does too. You want answers? We take him somewhere he can scream.”
Marvin gives a wet, rattling laugh that makes me want to peel his skin off his bones. I shove the barrel harder into his temple, but before I can threaten to end him, Jasper’s voice cuts in over comms.
“AJ.” Rage grinds the words ragged. “If Marvin’s a member of the cult?—”
The truth detonates inside me. My knees give out. I hit the edge of Grace’s bed, then the floor, and the sheets—Christ—the sheets still smell like her. Her shampoo. Her skin. I bury my face in them and choke back the scream tearing at my throat.
Hardison doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t soften. He just says what I can’t.
“It’s been him. The whole goddamn time. Intel from his CIs sent you and Jasper on that stakeout. That’s why you and Grace weren’t out of town that weekend.”
