Page 8 of Warrior's Purpose

Brennan grabbed her and pulled her across the room.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, what do you know about my daughter?” Brennan growled.

The red men sighed in unison.

“Providence did say her sire would be difficult.”

She snorted at the comment, or at least would have, if the situation wasn’t so freaking nuts.

“I doubt we’re going to find a liaison who will be more agreeable.”

“Ashtoret, get the message Providence wrote.”

“Hold it,” Brennan barked when the silver-haired demon reached for his unusual backpack.

“Here.” The man shoved his bag toward her father with his foot. “There’s a message in the outside compartment.”

Brennan took a few steps, grabbed the bag, then retreated again.

“Peanut, hold the gun on them. I’ll open this. I don’t want you finding any surprises.” Her father cast an accusatory glance at the pair.

She took the gun. Her father had taken her to the shooting range enough that she knew how to hit what she aimed for, especially at close range.

Brennan fiddled with the bag for a minute. She glanced over to see what the deal was and noticed there wasn’t a buckle or zipper on the side pouch.

“May I?” The silver-haired guy kept his hands up, his eyes on her, as he hesitantly approached.

Don’t get any bright ideas, buddy. She gave him a cynical smile, the business end of the gun aimed at his gut. Her eyes widened when a deep rumbling sound passed the silver-haired demon’s lips. Is he laughing at me? Surely, he’s not that ballsy.

The freaky giant pulled his disconcerting gaze away, swiped a finger along the seam of the bag, and the pocket slid open. He pulled out the letter with his long, graceful red fingers and handed it to her father.

“It’s her handwriting,” Brennan mumbled. Her gaze shifted to her father in surprise. “Here, you read it and hand me that.”

She passed the gun and took the letter. The first thing she noticed was that the paper was strange, some fancy handmade stuff. But sure enough, it was Pro’s handwriting. Reverently, she unfolded the note.

“Hey, Dad. I know this might be hard for you to believe, but everything my friends have to tell you is the truth,” she read out loud. “I need you to look past their exterior and just trust me. Hopefully if you’re reading this, you haven’t tried to kick anyone’s ass yet. In case you’re still being stubborn, remember when I was eight and you held me on your shoulders as we looked at the stars? Remember how you told me one day I might get to visit them, and I said I’d take you with me. Well, I want you to know they’re beautiful and you’ve been in my heart the whole time I’ve been here,” Abby’s voice broke and tears started streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were so blurry, she could hardly see the words on the page.

“Here, Peanut.” Brennan took the letter. His eyes misted as he skimmed the note to find where she left off. As he read, his gun lowered.

She’s not dead.

Providence was the toughest of her four sisters. There’s no way these weirdos could’ve forced her to write such a personal thing, it had to be real. Which meant these guys were actually aliens.

Oh my god. Dad was right, an unidentified flying object took Pro.

She should’ve been freaked out about that fact, but finding out Providence was alive was the only thing she could focus on.

“You’ve seen her.” She stepped toward the strange men as her father continued reading.

“She is our friend.” The shorter, dark-haired one nodded.

“Where is she? Why isn’t my sister here?” She frowned in confusion.

“Providence wanted to come, but she is with young,” the silver-haired guy replied.

“She’s what?” She was certain she misheard.

“They call young, babies.” The other man corrected his friend.

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