Page 97 of Debt of My Soul

I nod at him. “Orders?”

“Kill them. Kill them all.”

I wince and ask, “Information?”

Darrin glances at the black scrap in my hand. “There’s no need. We know who they belong to.”

Automatic shots fire into the wall beside us, and I dive for Darrin, moving my body on impulse to shield his as six—no, seven more men encroach across the parking lot for the clubhouse. The guards meant to escort him yank us both up but only secure Darrin.

Darrin holds my gaze as they move him to the back room. I nod again. I have my orders and I turn to execute them.

Outside the clubhouse is mayhem.

I allow two seconds for my stunned shock and then move.

Sweeping to the side, I bolt down the pathway. Fear roots itself deep in my gut as I watch men kick in cabin doors,my mind panicking when I think about Fleur left alone and defenseless in our place.

Not once did I show her where I keep my guns hidden, mostly because they sit with all my other materials for my mission. Now I regret it.

There’s a click behind me, and I spin in time to see a gun pointed in my face. In one rapid motion, I yank it away, a surprise to the tattoo-faced man, buying me seconds to knock my fist back and slug the black bird inked on his cheek. He stumbles before righting himself and diving for me. He lowers himself enough to knock the wind from me as he plows me into the ground, landing a punch to my nose.

With a loud crunch, blood gushes from my nostrils, the metallic taste hitting the back of my throat. I lift a forearm, blocking the next blow coming for my head, and reach out my other hand to wrap around the guy’s throat and squeeze.

I bear down, tightening each finger around the corded muscles of his neck. He claws at my hand, eyes wide with realization. He slackens his weight over mine and I push up, overthrowing him. I hold fast as he bucks, and I climb on top of him to add my other hand to his neck. Within seconds, he goes limp. Eyes and mouth open, his head lulls to the side and I scramble back, picking up his gun.

Screams jerk my attention away from the man I killed to several more men dragging women into the woods. My blood runs cold.

What the hell is this? Kill the men and rape the women?—

I slip on the gravel, stumbling back up. I zero in on the direction of my cabin.

Purpose courses through me.

Get to Fleur.

Get to Fleur.

Flashes of those stormy eyes clouded with fear pace through me, and I pick up my stride, sprinting at this point.

A streak of blond stretches over fifty feet ahead of me, but it’s her, I know it is. Unease pounds through me and my stomach bottoms out when I see her rush to a man on top of another woman.

“Fleur!” I yell.No, no, no. Don’t get involved. Please don’t.

She doesn’t hear me but manages to help the woman up. They turn in my direction.

“Fl—” I’m cut off by the butt of a gun tearing into my back from the side. I topple over, raising my gun to meet the other one pointing at me. I fire three shots, closing my eyes as I wait for a bullet to pierce me as well. It doesn’t.

I roll back over, not pausing a second before turning back to where I saw Fleur.

The woman she helped flies by me for the safety of the clubhouse, and I catch Fleur’s scream while being dragged into the woods.

Never. Not even in everything I’ve been through, have I been truly terrified. I growl, tearing off after them and ignoring the responsibility of securing the compound. I pass several dead bodies and a few bleeding women with torn clothes.

If she’s hurt …

If they …

Damn it!

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