My teeth grind together so hard my jaw is aching as I stuff the book back into its place and slip out of the secretviewing room. In the corridor, I make a right and take it to the end, checking that the coast is clear before sneaking outside.
Slinking around the back of the mansion, I stay close, seeing how far east I can get before I hear people. I come up to a dip in the ground; a small hill where the foundation rests higher, as if maybe there’s a basement. It never occurred to me that the mansion would have a basement, though now that I’m thinking about it,of courseit does.
If it’s anything like the prison, there will be either sewer drains, or a bulkhead, or—
“Shit,” I gasp under my breath, eyes widening as I come to a screeching halt.
A gate. There’s a fuckinggate—a door of steel bars like the prison cell doors—leading down into what appears to be a tunnel of sorts.This must go to the basement.
Of course it’s locked with a giant, thick as fuck padlock.
“Fuck you,” I growl at the thing, yanking at it over and over.
Grabbing the bars, I pull on them, but the gate doesn’t budge.No surprise there.
But this is it. The way in… Or out.
I wonder if Velle has bolt cutters, or a blowtorch…
Echoing voices catch my ear. They’re too far away for me to hear what they’re saying, but I don’t need to. It’s probably best that I can’t anyway…
Because one of them belongs to Lem. I’m sure of it.
There’s no mistaking that deep, sexy brogue.
My chest is compressing, like there are vice grips around my ribcage, squeezing.
This is where they brought him. This is where they’re going to…
I bite down so hard on my lip it’s instantly bleeding as I jam the tip of my knife into the lock and fight with the goddamn thing to just fuckingopen, but it won’t and I’m seething. Snarling under my breath, begging myself to stay quiet. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
There are cartel men just through the trees. They’re so close.
Fuck. I gotta get out of here.
I’m gone mere moments before they come through. Sprinting between the trees, heart galloping the way I’m weaving and jumping over things, back to the west. Back to my forest.
I’m the fox in my dreams, stealth and wily.
An animal running through the woods.
A predator they won’t see… until it’s too late.
The Ivory’s men are circling the old armory, closing in.This must be where the shootout happened…
Where Hancock went down.
I’m stalking them, breathing shallowed, despite the pure wrath burning inside me.
They’re just soloud, and completely unaware of their surroundings. It’s actually funny. I would laugh if I could, which I can’t.
I’m empty without him.
But alas… This predator is hungry.
Stepping through blood and spent rounds, I advance on my prey. Like a phantom, I grab them, and I end them. One after another, after another…
Slit. Slash. Stab, andgut. I chase them down. Ihuntthem.
