Page 10 of Court of Evil

“Wait—” I lift my gun, but a noise has me turning just in time to see Santos’s gun heading right for my face.

“Sorry, T,” is the last thing I hear before everything goes dark.

My own team is attacking me, and I plunge into the darkness feeling angry and betrayed.

CHAPTER 4

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

I race through the twisting halls of Stalkers’ Rest. I checked Shy’s office first, but he wasn’t there. Sometimes I forget I can just go through the ceiling, and when I remember, I almost smack myself. Rising as quickly as I can, I head to the penthouse—the commander’s apartment.

She’s in big fucking trouble.

I have been watching Tate Havelock for four years at his command, and during that time, I have come to know her well. At first, I thought Shy was wrong, that she isn’t the one, but he was right, as always. How annoying. She has a backbone of steel. When others would have faltered or died, she survived. She gathers secrets and friendships as easily as she breathes, using them when she needs to. She’s intelligent, powerful, and one hell of a woman. If I were able to, I would have hit on her years ago.

She’s beautiful, but it’s more than that.

Her soul is pure and full of life. I found myself drawing closer just to feel her presence during the four years I’ve spent watching her and reporting to Shy as our plan sluggishly moved forward. The others, our brothers spread out at the other command posts, do the same to change this from the inside out.

His grand plan all hinges on her.

One woman.

I hated her at first, thinking she would become like them, but she never did, and she seemed oblivious to their true intentions and proclivities. It almost made me pity her, but I could not interfere. Now I wish I had ignored my orders.

She’s in danger. I followed her unconscious body as they drove to a black site and dumped her in the cell. She will wake up soon, and when she does, they won’t hesitate to do what they need to. I know Black well enough to understand that and have watched him kill countless people who got in his way. Our plan is important, more important than anything, but for it to succeed, we need her alive.

I need her alive.

As I float through his security measures and walls, his wards flow across me, allowing me access, and I rush to his bedroom. It’s late, so he will be resting, but he must sense me when I enter. We are tied together, all of us. Not even death can tear us apart—not that anyone knows.

I face Shamus as he sits up in bed, his eyes hard. “What is it?” he demands.

“Tate. She’s in trouble. She found out the truth, and they turned on her. Shamus, they are going to kill her.”

CHAPTER 5

I’m awake, but I pretend to be knocked out, and I use the time to catalogue my injuries. My head aches, but it’s nothing I cannot handle. Nothing else seems injured, but I have lost nearly all my weapons. I shift my head slightly, as if in sleep, and I feel my wire is still there. I test my hands and feet and find them restrained, which isn’t surprising.

They cannot let me escape. If I went to Commander Vilaran with this, then they wouldn’t ignore it. Black and his unit would be brought up on charges or worse. No, they cannot let their dirty secret get out.

I’m their leverage, and if I had to guess from the damp, rotten smell surrounding me, we are at one of the black sites our unit uses during our hunts to interrogate monsters . . . and now me, apparently.

No one else knows about them, a unit secret, which means nobody will be coming for me. I’m on my own, facing the men I have hunted with for years—men capable of killing, torturing, and using whatever it takes to stay alive.

I need to stop thinking of them as my unit, as my family, because I know they will do whatever it takes to continue, and I am in their way.

“I know you’re awake,” the sharp voice comments. “I know all your tricks, Tate. You forget that I taught you most of them.”

“Not all,” I retort dryly as I lift my head, rolling it back on my sore shoulders, and face the cell. Black sits opposite me, casually sitting on a wooden chair while counting fangs in a bag. The others are spread out before the closed metal cell door. From the smell, the door, and the slightly wet walls, I would guess we are at the hangar, which is fifteen miles from Stalkers’ Rest and one of the most remote and darkest secrets of our unit.

Here, no monster comes out alive, making their intentions towards me clear.

They plan to kill me so no one will ever find my body. “Let me guess, I died on the mission, yes?” I sneer as I run my gaze over them. Eric is unable to meet my eyes, hanging his head in shame. Good, he should be ashamed. Goose looks troubled, but not enough to help. The others are cold and emotionless. We might be family, but it’s clear where their loyalties lie—with Black.

“A hero’s death,” Black says as he pockets the bag. “I’ll give you that much.”

“So kind,” I comment sarcastically as I roll my shoulders. “Don’t suppose you’d free my hands, would you? These bindings are awfully uncomfortable.”

---