Page 91 of Hell Hath No Fury

Lilith

Afterfifteenminutes,weallow Antonio to send Matt the code to open the garage door. We wanted to leave them in there until we got back; however, Antonio is correct that this is not the time to divide and conquer.

Matt immediately sends a brief summary of who, what, when, where, and how to the group chat. We go over the particulars silently, each of us preparing mentally for what we all assume will be the final chapter of a nightmare that has been following us for years.

Well, except for Agatha. She chatters to Antoinette, happily inhaling the bag of chips Mickey provided, knowing she hates going into anything on an empty stomach.

It doesn’t take us long to be near our destination, and we all prepare, inserting the special COMS into our ears and securing our phones in zipped jacket pockets.

Mickey leaves Antoinette and Agatha on a street corner, having already given them instructions on where we’llrendezvous. He continues along the same road, then swings around into a parking garage, taking the first open spot we come across.

Exiting the vehicle, Mickey takes off ahead, making a beeline for his designated post. Antonio and I glance at each other, pausing for a moment to say whatever we can with a look. Then, with a final smile, we walk in separate directions, each carrying only enough weaponry on our person to allow us to move around inconspicuously.

Entering the building, I palm a revolver, then head toward the stairway, quickly descending until the lights begin to dim and the damp overrides the senses. Shivering, I slow my descent, sticking close to the walls, pausing near doorways to listen for anyone headed in my direction.

Reaching the bottom, I inch the door open, peering into the darkness before cautiously entering the room and shutting the door silently behind me.

I used to be wary of the dark decades ago before I learned the dark is the best camouflage—physically, emotionally, and mentally. The dark hides the truth, it puts a buffer between the here and now, and the demons that lurk around the edges of your psyche.

Sinking into the darkness, it cloaks me like a comforting old friend, allowing my others sense to take over. I move forward, sure-footed and content, calm in the familiarity of otherwise foreign surroundings because this is my wheelhouse, the safe space where I truly shine.

The glance I got of the blueprints of where Irina was supposed to be holed up appears to be accurate. My progress in the dark is slow, but soon, light begins to seep in, and I can make out basic shapes. A few more minutes go by, and then the telltale sound of voices echoes in the distance, becoming increasingly louder as I approach a large doorway.

Stopping at the side of the doorway, I continue to listen intently. Now that I’m focused, I recognize the din of many, many voices, and I cringe, knowing what awaits me once I enter the next room.

Another fucking clown-car warehouse situation.

Chatter in my ear confirms our group has reached their designated starting points, and the guys are nearing their own after their brief delay. I take a moment to center myself, my back pressed against the cool concrete wall, frowning as I finally pinpoint the odd warmth that radiates in my chest.

Contentment.

Laughing under my breath, I shake my head, a bit disappointed there’s no one here for me to share this insane revelation with. Whenever anyone has ever mentioned the concept of being ready to die, I always scoffed because the mere idea that readiness is a real thing when faced with inevitable impending death is preposterous.

But now, I get it.

Sighing, I push off the wall and turn into the doorway. There’s still no one nearby, and I mutter to myself about how none of these fucking people ever learn about blind spots and leaving yourself open for sneak attacks in these large, cavernous spaces.

I creep along the perimeter of the room, sharing pertinent details of my surroundings in a hushed tone to my COM. Everyone does the same in a methodical rotation, everyone knowing the clock is winding down on our clandestine recon.

Sure enough, Antoinette curses, indicating she’s been spotted, but then Agatha cackles almost gleefully, punctuated by shouting in the distance.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

I’m on the far side of the room, where fewer people are congregated, and at the shout, the group of four men look over but make no move to join the ruckus. Frowning, I approachcarefully, taking out my other weapon so I’m fully prepared to take them out if they make a sudden move. I stop not even six feet from them, but they’re so distracted by what’s happening on the far side of the room that they don’t even notice.

“Freeze,” I say sharply, yet quietly, and they do, their backs straightening as they all become very still. “Keep your mouths shut, and turn around slowly.”

They all turn slowly, four sets of eyes staring in horror at the revolvers in both my hands. My lip curls, my guts twisting at the blatant fear in their eyes. Young eyes. Haunted eyes.

Fucking boys called to fight another battle that is not their own.

“If you don’t want to die,” I say firmly, “leave.”

Three of them nod, immediately making a move to do as I’ve instructed, but the fourth one puts his hand up, the glint in his eye suddenly tinged with defiance. His friends pause, their scared gaze shifting to their friend, who continues to stare at me in a challenge.

“Don’t do it,” I warn, my grip on my weapons flexing. “It’s not worth it.”

The defiant boy falters, glances at his friends, and then back to me, his chin lifting. He opens his mouth and postures a bit, but before he can say a word, I interject, “I will kill you. And after I kill you, I will hunt down every person who has ever loved you and kill them, too.”

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