Page 151 of Where Sinners Repent

They came through the back door. That I remember. I remember being dragged out of it before I was drugged.

My head falls against the grimy wall, and I will the hazy fog out of my mind. If we are in the freezer, then this is my Black Cat’s brothers. They had dozens of men attack us, so it’s also the leftover Wraiths.

Which confirms our suspicions of the brothers making a play for president.

Fucking idiots.

The door to this concrete box creaks open, grinding metal echoing in my head. Men, I don’t recognise advance on us.

Six of them. Wraiths, confirmed by the patches stitched across their cuts, but none that I recognise. That doesn’t mean much. We’ve spent years keeping tabs on the Wraiths and Zeke’s movements, not every bottom-feeding fuck who wears his patch and thinks it means something.

Two of them advance on Ash. He snarls, preparing for a no-handed fight. His shoulder slams into the first man, sending him stumbling sideways, while his boot connects with the other man’s knee.

He crumples, falling to the ground and clutching his broken leg. Ash uses the moment to drive his boot into the man’s head, and it connects with a sickening crack. Blood and teeth fly. Ash roars as he stomps again and kills the man. A bloody breath leaves him. His last.

The first man snarls, pulling out a gun and shoving it against his temple.

“Fucking try me,” the Wraith spits.

Ash’s eyes narrow. “I know you’ve been ordered to keep me alive, you stupid fuck, otherwise I’d already be dead.”

With a smirk, Ash cocks his head back and smashes it into the man. His nose crunches and he screams an anguished cry.

More men advance, and one of them carries a cow prod, driving it into Ash’s ribs. Sizzling electricity arcs. Ash groans through his teeth, slumping over the bloody dead man beside him.

It takes three men to haul him out of the room. Xavier isn’t any more cooperative, but more men join the mess, dragging him behind Ash.

A hand closes around my upper arm, and my eyes shoot to the connection. Then at him. The Wraith can’t be older than twenty-five. Whatever he sees on my face makes uncertainty flash in his eyes.

I throw my weight sideways and drive my shoulder into his stomach. He grunts, folding just enough for me to bring my knee up into his face.

Pain shoots through my head at the sudden movement, black dots flickering across my vision. But the sound of teeth landing on the concrete makes it worthwhile.

“Motherfucker!” he roars.

Another set of hands grab me. And two more. My boots scrape against the concrete floor as they pull me upright. My legs struggle to remember how the fuck they are supposed to work.

Whatever is in my system makes everything move in slow motion. My knees don’t want to cooperate, but I force them to lock.

I refuse to let these cunts carry me.

The Wraith with now missing teeth snarls.

“Nice smile,” I murmur to him.

He cocks his fist back before pain explodes across my cheekbone. My head jolts back, and the world turns into a spinning top. Yeah, I probably deserved that.

I’m dragged out of the small room, two men wrenching my restrained arms high enough that pain burns through my shoulders.

A wet popping sound hits me before I feel it. Fucking pricks. My now dislocated shoulder sits funny in my shirt, the Wraith behind me chuckling.

Oh, fuck, I’m going to enjoy killing that asshole.

I’m thrown roughly on the ground, near Ash and Xavier, before I can focus on the room around me. There are men, lots of them. But with my blurred vision, I can’t focus on any of them.

Leon is thrown next to me, and I squint my eyes at the youngest Devil. He’s dead weight on the ground, blood trickling from a gash in his forehead.

Fuck. He doesn’t look good.