Page 128 of Three of a Kind

“And your aunt,” the guy on the right snarls.

“I’d say they got what was coming to them,” Bless says, shrugging. “A true mother protects her daughter. She doesn’t cover for her son or lie to child services about the terrible shit she knows he did. Honestly, they got off easy in comparison to what I had planned.”

My eyes widen.

Oh, yeah, she’s got a lot of rage.

And I can’t say I blame her.

“Would you like to hear about how Braxton died?” she asks the man on the left. I’m guessing that one is her father, and the one on the right is Locke’s dad. “I can give you details of all the ways he suffered. I’m sorry to have to inform you, but dying wasn’t an easy process for your favorite child.”

“Noble,” Gunner growls, aiming down the hallway.

I move until we’re back-to-back, facing opposite ends of the corridor.

It only takes a second for movement to come my way. Grabbing my gun, I take out the guy running in my direction. His gun goes flying as two more men follow behind him.

Huh.

We could probably just camp here and take out a whole shitload of people. Although, their corpses would eventually pile up and block the walkway.

Maverick comes over the comm feed, asking for advice on Thorne and Bianca. Once he starts growling for Bless, I step back into the sitting room, but Bless apparently had enough of waiting.

She’s full-blown lost to the alpha rage.

I still should probably ask her about Thorne, so I do.

“Don’t fuck with Thorne. He’s not a bad guy. He’s the guy Lennox is hung up on,” Bless says, finally climbing off the bloody body of one of her male family members. “Tell Locke to get his ass in here, or I’m finishing this without him.”

Gunner takes over, giving Locke a heads-up.

A second later, Maverick asks for an update on our position.

“Come on,” Gunner says. “He sounds stressed.”

The three of us head up the back stairs. I’m up front, but Gunner and Maverick are hot on my heels. We make it to the second-floor landing, and I aim down the hallway on the right as they move in front of me to scan the rooms.

This mansion is massive, and there’s an entire second wing to the left, but I follow my instincts. Something is pulling me in this direction.

“Has anyone located the primary target?” Maverick asks.

The chorus of “nos” makes my skin itch.

That’s been the consensus, but his ass has to be here somewhere.

“Tomlin Manzo is down,” Soren says. “Kostov is currently removing his head as a trophy.”

“Jesus Christ,” someone mutters, but I don’t recognize the voice.

“Are the Russians on another channel?” Ranger asks, suddenly sounding intrigued.

“Um, hold on,” Merrick says. It takes a few seconds of silence, and he continues, “Sorry, I pushed Bless’s team to their own channel. The Russians are on their own network. It was Soren’s idea to keep the languages on different feeds to prevent confusion. Also, I’m keeping a copy of their communications?—”

“Because I asked him to,” Soren says.

Maverick and Gunner come out of the rooms and move to the next room on either side of the hall.

“I’d love to be filled in on why you thought that was necessary,” Ranger says blandly.

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