have been aimed at Wrath through those fucking panes in the door—and it had been a long while since the Lessening Society had shown any finesse in their attacks.
“You were supposed to keep this meeting private, vampire,” V said in a deadly tone.
“No one knows you’re here.”
“Then I’ll assume you ordered an assassination all by your lonesome.”
He was going to shoot the motherfucker, Tohr thought without caring. Right here, right now.
Assail kept it cool, squaring off at the Brother so that the gun muzzle was now pointed at the center of his forehead. “Fuck you—that’s why I wanted to do this out in the living room. That’s bulletproof glass out there, asshole. And P.S., I’m hit, you fool.”
The male lifted his arm and showed off his dripping right hand, the one that had been holding the cigar.
“So maybe your friends have bad aim.”
“That was
More bullets sprayed the back of the house, finding their way in through the cutout in the door. Fucking hell, thermal pane was good against the New York winters, but it didn’t do shit to stop Remington’s best.
“How you doing?” Tohr whispered in Wrath’s ear as he checked his phone for a response from his other brothers.
“Fine. You?” Except the king coughed… and, man, there was a rattle in his lungs.
He was bleeding somewhere along his respiratory tract—
Moving fast as a gasp, Assail slipped out of V’s hold, and streaked across the back of the mudroom, heading for a door that had to let out into the garage. “Don’t shoot! I’ve got a car you can take him in! And I’m killing all the lights in the house.”
As everything went dark, Vishous dematerialized on top of the guy, taking him down and grinding his face into the tile. “I’m going to kill you now—”
“No,” Wrath ordered. “Not until we know what’s going on.”
In the shadows, V grit his teeth and glared at the king. But at least he didn’t hit the trigger. Instead, he put his mouth to their host’s ear and growled, “You better think twice before you go for any exits again.”
“Then do it yourself.” This came out as, “
Vishous glanced over at Tohr, the pair of them locking eyes. When Tohr gave a subtle nod, the other brother cursed… then reached up and popped open the garage door. The automatic lights were still on from Assail’s having come home earlier, and Tohr caught sight of four cars: The Jaguar. A Spyker. A black Mercedes. And a black van with no side windows.
“Take the GMC,” Assail grunted. “Keys are in the ignition. It’s bulletproof all the way around.”
As everything went silent outside, John and Qhuinn began pumping rounds off through the broken glass, falling into a steady, alternating rhythm, just to make sure that someone didn’t try and dematerialize inside.
Shit, their ammo wasn’t going to last long.
Tohr cursed the lack of options, as well as the fact that he’d gotten no reply from the Brotherhood—
“We got this,” Qhuinn said, not turning away from the door. “But we need the other Brothers here before you try to leave.”
“I’ve already alerted them,” Tohr muttered. “They’re on the way.”
At least, he hoped they were.
Assail’s voice rose above the gunshots. “Take the goddamn van. I’m not fucking with you.”
Tohr pegged the guy with hard eyes. “If you are, I will skin you alive.”
“I’m
Given that there were no further assurances to be had, Tohr rolled off Wrath and helped the king into a crouching position. Shit… blood at the side of his neck. Lot of it. “Keep your head down, my lord, and follow my lead.”
“You don’t say.”
Moving as quickly as he dared, Tohr started them across the floor, steering the king over to the wall so that Wrath could put a hand out and orient himself.
“Washing machine,” Tohr said, pulling him out to avoid the boxy machine. “Dryer. Door six feet. Four. Two. Step down.”
As they went by Assail, the male was watching them. “Jesus, he really is blind.”
Wrath pulled up short and unsheathed his dagger, pointing it directly into the guy’s face. “But my hearing works just fine.”
Assail probably would have recoiled, but he was stuck between the hard wall, a bullet and a sharp point—not a lot of room to maneuver. “Yes. Indeed.”
“This meeting isn’t over,” Wrath said.
“I don’t have anything else.”
“I do. You watch yourself, son—this little go-around proves to have your fingerprints anywhere near it, and your next house is a pine box.”
“It wasn’t me. I swear to it—I’m a businessman, pure and simple. I just want to be left alone.”
“Greta fucking Garbo,” V bit out as Tohr urged Wrath back into motion.
In the garage proper, Tohr crabbed it across the bald concrete with the king, going around the other vehicles. When they got to the van, he checked the thing out, then popped the back double doors and shoved the most powerful vampire on the planet in there like he was a piece of luggage.
As he reshut the panels, he spared one moment to take a deep breath. Then he ripped around to the driver’s side and got in. The interior light stayed on for a bit after he took his seat, and yes, the keys were right where Assail had said. And yeah, there had been some serious modifications to the vehicle: two gas tanks, reinforced steel crash cage, thick glass the girth of which suggested it was indeed bulletproof.
There was a sliding partition that separated the back from the front, and he opened it far enough so he could monitor the king.
With his hearing on overdrive, the dripping of blood in the van seemed as loud as the gunshots that had caused it. “You’re hit bad, my lord.”
All that came back at him was that cough.
Fuck.
John was ready to kill.
As he stood to the left of that goddamn back door, the thick muscles of his thighs were twitching, and his heart was going bronco in his chest. His gun, however, was steady as a stone.
The Band of Bastards had initiated the attack from where the Brotherhood had started out: on the far side of the cleared lawn, in the forest behind the house.
Hell of a shot, he thought. That first rifle bullet had punctured the door’s windowpane and gone right for Wrath’s head, even though there had been a number of people standing around.
Too close. Waaaaay too close.
These guys were true professionals—which meant they had to be gearing up for a second engagement… and not from this angle that was guarded so well.
As Qhuinn kept pulling his trigger in a slow, even motion, John leaned back and looked through the archway into the kitchen.
Whistling low, he caught Qhuinn’s eye and nodded in that direction.
“Roger that—”
“John, you don’t go out there alone,” V said. “I’ll watch the back door as well as our host.”
“What if they come through the opening?” Qhuinn asked.
“I’ll pick ’em off one by one.”
Hard to argue with the guy. Especially as the Brother trained his second gun right where Qhuinn and John had been shooting through.
That was the end of any further convo.
John and Qhuinn fell into flanking position and took off together. Using the moonlight as a guide, they streaked through the professionally equipped kitchen, and tried every door they came to. Locked. Locked. Locked.
