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As we approach the church, tension locks my muscles. Delilah’s close. So fucking close. I reach for her deep inside my heart, sending it to hers. Letting her know I’m coming. I’m almost there.

But what will I find? Is she hurt? Alive?

Every terrifying possibility lashes at me, drawing blood, grief, rage.

As we left the ranch, Warren and I talked about a plan. But right now, the only plan is kill Please. Save Delilah.

Tempest won’t take tonight.

Not this time.

Not my girl.

“Cole.” I look over at Warren. His voice is the kind of deep and dark I’ve only heard a handful of times in my life.

Our parents’ funeral. The night Rio was killed. Wells and Aurora and a phone call that blew up our world.

Warren nods at the sky.

In the distance, the bright blaze of fire.

“Fuck.” I jam the gas pedal.

When we reach the church, fire is spreading up one side of the crumbling wall. There’s a limo parked in a grove of trees, barely discernible. A man stands behind it, phone to his ear, shouting something as he watches the blaze.

“The driver.” My jaw locks as I cut the engine.

“I got him.” Warren reaches for his hip. “You get Delilah.”

He jumps out, and I follow, crouching low beside the truck and racing for the church. Behind me, Warren fires two quick shots. Pop. Pop. They catch the driver in the neck, taking him out with an accuracy that has me lifting a brow.

I enter, the door opening into a large space. At the back of the church is an altar, and behind it, the fire spreads up the far wall. Heat sears. Rushing toward me is a dark-haired girl. Melly. She’s frail, trembling, ropes hanging off her wrists.

“Run,” I order, lowering my gun to let her pass. Warren will be there to help her.

A few more steps inside, and I see Please. Cold panic rises inside me.

He stands over Delilah, struggling on the ground. One hand grips her hair as he tries to drag her to the bed, the other points a gun at her. All he needs to do is squeeze that trigger, and she’s gone.

Dark, desperate violence explodes beneath my skin.

I lift my gun, finger curling around the trigger. “Don’t fucking move.”

Please looks up, a soulless smile twisting his plastic features. “Ah, the boyfriend’s back. And right in the nick of time too.”

I inch closer. He’s here. Twenty feet away from me. I can’t wait to kill him.

Delilah lifts her head, her dark brown eyes finding me across the room. She looks terrified, but at the same time, fearless.

She’s fought all this time.

Goddamn, I love her.

“Let her go. Now. Before I put a bullet in your brain.”

He laughs easily as he speaks. “Do I look fucking stupid to you? Not until I fuck this perfect whore of yours.”

He tightens his grip, shaking Delilah like a rag doll. She flinches, but her eyes stay on me.