It smells and feels like nothing except betrayal.
I probably should keep him close, considering he seems to be my enemy at this point, however, I can’t keep him by my side and finish this business with the Assembly. I won’t be able to watch him and deal with these traitors before I move on to the man who is not just simply a traitor, but also my best friend, the worst kind of man.
It doesn’t take me long to infiltrate the Assembly members’ homes, question them, end them, and then move on to the next. I visit their family members next, then by the time I finish, I have twenty more kills on my conscience.
I thought that being the leader of a country, it would mean that I wouldn’t have to actually end lives anymore, that I wouldn’t be covered in the blood of my enemies. I thought my part in war was over, but I’m coming to realize that it simply is not the case.
It will never be over with.
I was foolish to think that this would be nothing more than an office job, that it would be stressful, but easier and less bloody than war.
I will forever have to watch my back, and Birdie’s. We’ll have to always sleep with one eye open, and one hand on my pistol until I draw my last breath. I cannot even trust my closest and oldest friend.
Nobody is above treason, and as much as I want to hope that he hasn’t been plotting against me, against this country, I know that he has and it’s now time to face that.
Heading back to the house, I decide that it is time to deal with Logan before I continue on with the rest of my evening. I need him handled as I have a meeting set up with the remaining Assembly members once the city has gone to sleep, we must make some decisions on the future of the country.
The house is quiet as I approach, it seems that the guards are on alert. They stand outside the pink brick entrance, their faces solemn and their gazes flicking around, never stopping. They dip their chins at me and I lift mine as I leave one of them my horse and jog toward Birdie.
I want to ensure that she is well, safe and sound in her chamber. The moment that I walk through the front door, my entire body jerks. Something is off. It’s not quite right. I can feel it deep in my bones.
Glancing around, I don’t see Ernest anywhere and I don’t hear Martha in the kitchen or moving around at all. Slowly, I make my way upstairs toward the master’s quarters. As soon as I turn the corner to walk down the hallway, I freeze.
Thatcher, Markus, and Samuel are in piles on the floor. They are unmoving and while I don’t see blood, they don’t look good at all. My feet carry me without my mind telling them to, they rush toward the door and without a thought, I draw Blue Lightnin’ and kick the flimsy door down.
My eyes search for Birdie, but I don’t find her immediately. Instead, there is Jeremiah’s body lying in the middle of the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him.
“Birdie,” I call out.
I’m met with silence.
I call out her name again and yet again, silence.
Waiting, I listen, trying to hear any clue at all that could take me to her. It happens. A muffled cry from the bathing room. Turning to the side, I rush toward the back of the room and push the door open, unsure of what sight will greet me.
The scene staring back at me causes my entire body to jerk, then my knees threaten to give out almost instantly.
“Colt,” Birdie whispers.
She’s completely nude, sitting next to Logan’s body, on her knees, her eyes wide and limbs visibly trembling. Logan is lifeless and bloody. I look around for a weapon, wondering what she could have inflicted the wounds with, I see nothing but her bloodied quaking hands across from me.
“Darlin’, what happened?” I breathe.
She shakes her head a couple of times, her beautiful black hair flying all around her as her eyes fill with unshed tears.
“He tried to hurt me, he actually did hurt Jeremiah.”
Holding out my arms, I call out to her to come to me. She doesn’t move right away. Instead, she stays where she is, her bottom lip trembling as her body starts to shake with what I can only assume is shock.
Grabbing ahold of her robe, I walk over to her, scoop her up into my arms and carry her away from the scene. As I stand, something metal falls to the floor and I flick my gaze over to it, noticing that it’s a small paring knife. Shifting my gaze around the room, I see that there is a tray of food next to the bathtub.
“I stabbed him in the neck as soon as he crowded me, when he tried to pull me out of the tub. He had a gun trained on me, Colt,” she cries against my throat.
Taking her over to the bed, I want nothing more than to sit down next to her and hold her, but I can’t. Jeremiah is bleeding on the floor, and the other men who make up her guard are also unconscious. Plus, I have not seen Martha or Ernest anywhere, which means they too could be in grave danger.
“Stay right here, I need to get help,” I rasp.
She doesn’t protest, her eyes are still wide, her entire body still trembling, but she releases her grip on me and I stand as I cover her bloody body with the bedding.
Turning away from her, I run to Jeremiah’s side. Touching my fingers to the side of his neck, I
