“Tell me where they buried Lana.” I asked Davina.
Enzo frowned. “Why should that matter?”
“Because you and your team can collect evidence to determine where he could be.”
“I doubt they would be able to get anything useful. So, far he’s been good about hiding his tracks,” Alphonse replied.
“Maybe he slipped up this time.” I refocused on Davina. “Where is she?”
“The old, abandoned St. Mary's church.”
“Luca,” I called, sharpening my tone. “Search the area for any cameras and secure the perimeters. I want guards positioned miles within the area.”
Luca nodded, determination set in his jaw as he turned to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys.
I got to my feet and stood beside Alphonse.
“Is she telling the truth?” he asked quietly as he stared out the window at the white blanket of snow covering the field.
“I don’t fucking know anymore,” I replied. “But I hope she’s not stupid enough to lie and expect to be still breathing.”
Matteo chimed in, his brow furrowed in thought. “It would make sense that Lana could be the mole. After all, she was taken and sold in exchange to save her family.”
“The perfect victim to manipulate and control,” Enzo concurred.
A deafening barrage of gunfire interrupted our conversation, sending us reeling. The room echoed with the sharp cracks of bullets impacting the sturdy walls.
“Get down!” Enzo shouted, his voice barely cutting through the noise.
Panic ensued as everyone dove for cover.
“Secure the area, now!” Enzo commanded. “We need eyes on the cameras!”
Luca raced to the laptop, hurled himself to the floor along with the computer, and crouched beneath the table, using the sturdy piece of furniture as a barrier against the gunshots that rang out around us.
Miguel shattered the window’s glass with his gun. He crouched low, seeking cover as he returned fire. The rest of our guards joined, firing back fearlessly. The source of the gunfire was still unclear, hidden by the chaotic scene around us.
Alphonse hunched low behind the sturdy wall adjacent to the window, his fingers coiled tightly around the grip of his gun. Cautiously, he peered over the ledge. Bullets zipped through the air like angry hornets, one narrowly grazing the side of his face. He flinched and yanked himself back.
My eyes raced around the room, and my stomach dropped. There, on the floor behind me, Davina lay motionless on her stomach.
I rolled her over, my breath catching at the sight of her lifeless body, riddled with bullet holes.
“FUCK!” I bellowed as my forehead pressed against the floor when the gunfire ceased. The rage flowing through me crystallized to ice. I pushed myself off the cold wooden floor to my feet and whipped out my gun. My beast was starving for vengeance. I burst out of the house, the wooden door flying open with a violent swing, the hinges snapping.
“Get your ass back here, Nico!” Enzo shouted.
“Nico! What the fuck are you doing?” Matteo’s voice boomed, but I was too focused on my mission to heed his warning.
With my gun trained on the field, I stood at the edge of the porch. I searched the surroundings for any movement but didn’t notice anything until a flash caught my attention. I cast a glance to my left, bolted, and fired several shots.
I stumbled across the shooter, his life slipping away as blood formed a pool around his body. I delivered a swift kick to his gun, sending it skittering across the floor. My boot pressed down on his neck.
“Who the hell are you? Did the Puppet Master send you?”
“Fu-fuck you,” he rasped.
Bending down, I grasped his rifle and jammed the barrel into his mouth, feeling the crunch of his teeth under its force.