She wasn’t there. That was what the ache was; Harper wasn’t at the estate.
Then where the fuck was she?
Rage burned like lightning through his blood, the shadows moving to swirl around him like a hurricane. He allowed them to drop, to reveal himself. He didn’t bother hiding his presence, wanting everyone to hear him coming. To fear him coming.
‘Eight minutes, incoming.’
The door to Angel’s study fell from their hinges, startling Charles and Angel. Charles got off a single shot, the bullet hitting Sythe in his lower stomach before he was on him, breaking his neck with a single, quick movement. Blood perfumed the room, and his beast thundered at the scent. Harper had been hurt, and he hadn’t been there to protect her.
Axel’s voice broke through his rage. ‘Make a decision, Sy, because you’re about to burst from your skin.’
Sythe grit his teeth. ‘She’s hurt.’
‘She? You never mentioned a fucking she!’
‘We have seven minutes,’ Titus added with a growl. ‘Whatever you need to do, do it now.’
“Boy, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Angel staggered back, moving so the desk was between them. “What’s this about?”
Sythe stalked closer, allowing his eyes to shift to silver.
Angel sucked in an angry breath. “You’re one of them!” he spat, hands gripping the edge of his desk as if it would save him.
“Where is she?”
“She?” he seethed, reaching for one of his cigars. “Harper’s a fucking traitor. Did you know she was the rat?”
‘Five minutes, incoming.’
Angel took his time lighting the cigar, Sythe almost vibrating.
“Could you imagine my anger at finding out my own family was selling secrets to the police? She needs to be adequately punished.” Smoke billowed from his nostrils, his movements much calmer than his expression.
Sythe didn’t bother stepping around the desk, instead he simply threw it across the room.
Angel gaped, fury as well as fear carving his expression. “My security will have heard. They’ll be here any minute.”
Sythe smiled, baring his teeth. “You sure about that? Ivan’s currently pushing up daisies in your garden, and the team you hired for the grounds are currently taking a nap.”
He hadn’t killed them. Just simply knocked them in the head a few times.
The cigar snapped in Angel’s hand, and he tossed it into the fireplace. “Who exactly are you?”
“I’m the guy that resolves issues with my fists, remember?”
Sythe gripped Angel’s throat, his arm vibrating with restraint. All the pretence of power disappeared, Angel’s face turning red as he struggled in the grip. He was no longer the man who held such high regard with the elite. He was a pathetic bag of meat, just like everyone else.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Sythe said, voice dropping in threat. “Where is she?”
Angel punched at his face, but each blow was weakening. With a grunt, he turned Angel away in his grip, pressing his face towards the fireplace. The flames kissed at his skin, Angel’s screams echoing around them.
“She’s with Wyatt!”
Sythe pulled him back, the skin of his cheeks split open and blackened. His brows had disappeared, as had most of his lashes.
“She’s with Wyatt!” he repeated.
“Where?” His tone came out harsh, his beast creating a deep rumble.