The door slides open, and we both step out to find two guards—gofers again—standing in the private hallway outside the penthouse.
Both spot us, and the first dude’s intention, the one with the dark hair, hits me like lightning.
Kill.
I cross the distance before his hand can finish the path to his gun, snapping his head sideways with a sharp crack. He drops instantly.
The second dude barely manages to clear his weapon before Cal dives onto him, taking him to the floor and wrapping both of his hands around his neck until he strangles the life out of him.
Instantly, silence fills the hallway, and we keep moving, stepping over the bodies, and don’t stop until we reach the front door of Damien’s penthouse.
I attempt to open the door, but when Cal notices a card swipe above the lock, he jogs back to one of the dead guards, checking his pockets until he finds what we need.
A minute after that, we’re swiping the gofer’s keycard and entering Damien Snow’s penthouse. It’s fancy as fuck, and the entrance hallway is no doubt bigger than our living room at the cabin.
But just before we reach the end of the long foyer, Damien Snow steps into view. His eyes narrow when our gazes meet.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“We’re the men who killed your two gofers outside.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses at me. “You’re those fucking Slater brother fucks, aren’t you?”
“Pretty sure no one’s joking, fucker.”
“Do you have any idea whose building you’re standing in?” He snarls. “Do you have any clue who you’re messing with right now? Do you have fucking sense at all? The Elite Council wants your heads on a silver platter.”
When Cal starts to react, starts to step forward, I put my hand on his chest.If anyone is killing this motherfucker, it’s me.
“They find out about this little preselection scheme you evidently have going with Holland, and they’re going to want your head too, dickhead. The only difference is that that’ll scare you. Youcow to the Council. We spit in their faces. We don’t give a fuck. We’re here for her,” I say. “Let her fucking go.”
“Oh wow.” He laughs at that. “So, you think you can come in here and demand shit? Blackmail me as if the Council would believe anything you fucks have to say? That’s rich.”
“And you think you can be a disgusting, vile piece of shit and get away with it?” I mock. “Not on my watch, motherfucker.”
“This is going to be a nice day for me,” he says, lips curling in a devious smile. “First, I’m going to kill you. And then, I’m going to breed her and drain her. Hell, maybe I’ll just fucking drain her instead, just to spite you. Watch the light go right out of her eyes while I drink every drop of her blood.”
Rage flows through me like a river. I willmurderhim. “You will not lay a fucking finger on her.”
His intention hits me full force. It’s sharp and violent, and it whispers six words,Kill him and then kill her.
Before he can even lift a hand, before he can reach for the gun I know is in his jacket pocket, I shove all my fucking rage toward him and his arm freezes in midair. His eyes go wide, and I close the distance between us from the other end of the corridor in the blink of an eye.
“You—” Damien starts, but the word never finishes because I have one hand already wrapped around his throat, lifting him off his fucking feet.
I add my second hand to his neck and twist. Hard. The crack is sharp and precise, but I don’t stop after that. I don’t stop when his body goes lifeless beneath my fingers. I don’t stop until I’vetwisted so hard and with so much force that his body drops to the floor while his head still rests between my fucking palms.
Silence fills the corridor again.
“Well,” Cal says calmly behind me. “The numbers are climbing.”
I let Damien’s head drop unceremoniously to the floor, and it hits the marble with a thud.
But I’m no longer focused on Damien or Cal; I’m looking at the door beside me.
Because I know, on the other side, isBlair.
Blair
