My family crowded around the doors.
Uncle Kenny hefted the set of bolt cutters he’d volunteered to carry. Holding the bolt cutters by the ends of their handles—to best use their leverage—he fitted the cutters around the rusty padlock that locked the chain wrapped around the door handles. He twisted to look back at me.
I nodded.
He cut through the padlock’s shackle, then stepped aside so Pop-pop could remove the lock.
Granny helped him unwind the chain as quietly as possible—the fae and vampires wouldn’t notice any extra noises, but the handful of werewolves among the guards would.
Moving into the best formation that would let us storm the doors and breach the shipping area, my family sorted out their positions and readied their weapons.
Uncle Stephen crouched by the door and picked the door’s lock, which clicked open in seconds. We were ready to move.
Dad held out a walkie-talkie—each of the team leaders had one for communication purposes.
I took it from Dad and set my thumb on the key code button—pressing it would produce a beep that enabled users to morse code.
Slayers only bought walkie-talkie sets with the button, because it also happened to be a fantastic method to communicate in prearranged codes.
Holding down my emotion with an iron will that I could summon only because I had to for Considine’s sake, I tapped the key code button three times, then held it down twice as long for the fourth and final beeping tone.
Uncle Stephen threw the doors open then ducked to the side while Dad and Mom—each wielding handguns, stepped in first.
Alex and Peri went in next, sliding across the floor on their knees.
The Mitchell slayer and Jasper entered after them, pushing straight in, so all directions of the shipping bay were covered.
The shipping bay was quiet and covered in a layer of dust and wispy cobwebs. The handful of tracks on the floor indicated that Gisila’s goons didn’t often check on this area, so breaching it was straightforward.
Dad motioned for the rest of the team to enter. We did, my family making sure to keep me in the middle, so I was out of the fight zone.
When we reached the side door that opened directly into the factory—blueprints were an invaluable resource for planning out infiltrations like this one for reasons like doors—an explosion shook the ground.
Sounds like the Bait Team broke through.
I’d assigned that team the task of using explosives to blow a door to smithereens. It was showy, but it was meant to draw guards outside the factory, where the team could use a combination of cover and spelled bullets to take the guards out at little risk to themselves.
Uncle Joe pressed his ear against the door to listen, but he needn’t bother. We could hear the muffled shouts of the guards and the pounding of feet as they were successfully drawn away.
“Amateurs,” the Rivera slayer scoffed.
Dad shrugged. “Makes it easier on us. On your mark, Jade.”
I waited until the muffled shouts grew quieter. “Now.”
Uncle Joe threw the door open, then ducked out of the way as Uncle James and Uncle Kenny slipped through the door—guns up.
Alex and Peri went next—once again sliding across the floor on their knees—and Jasper followed them, sliding straight through the door so all directions were covered.
“There’s another breach!” someone yelled within the factory.
“We’re under attack!”
“Second floor walkway,” Uncle James said before he took his first shot.
The rest of the team entered, adding to our firepower.
“We’ve got bogies, approaching from the two o’clock position!” The Mitchell slayer shouted. “Three werewolves, two vamps, and three fae!”
