Page 72 of Redeemed
As long as we get out of this alive.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Connor
GET HERE NOW.
The text from Brodie is unusually terse. I snap to attention, crouched behind a clump of cactus on the bluff overlooking Betancourt’s Malibu hideout. Brodie and Sheena are watching the front of the house for any activity, and I have the back. Ninety minutes ago, two oversized SUVs—probably Escalades, since we were dealing with vampires—had headed down the hill at faster-than-legal speed. About three minutes ago two sets of headlights had come back.
My best guess is there’s something—or someone—in that car he wants me to see. I make that guess while jogging along the crest of the bluff.
I find Brodie under the rock ledge where I left him, fiddling with his phone. “What?” I pin him with the question, my voice low.
“Look.” He passes me the phone.
It’s a grainy picture of the Malibu house. Several people are between the SUV and the front door. One of them has familiar bleached-blond hair. Recognition stabs me in the gut. “What the hell?” I whisper.
“I didn’t get a great look at any of them, but figured you’d want to know.”
I touch the screen to enlarge the photo. Definitely David. He’s naked and he’s got an arm around Abby. Cliffe walks behind him and a little to his left, the way a lieutenant should. “Oh my fucking god.”
Auras don’t photograph, but their body language says a lot. Tossing Brodie his phone, I reach for my own, swiping a familiar number even though it’s hopeless. When a gruff voice answers, I almost drop it.
“Who’s this?”
“Connor? It’s me. Marcus.”
“What in the hell is going on?”
“David’s…in trouble.”
“I know that.” I force myself to inhale before I start spouting some clichéd gangster dialogue. “Where are you?”
“In the parking lot at the beach. We found the Princess, but some guys stopped us. Trajan took off and I followed him. When I came back, they were marching David and Abby to their cars. I wanted to try and stop them but…”
But what, you chicken shit piece of crap?My jaw’s clenched so tight I almost bust a tooth. “I guess if David and Abby together couldn’t fight their way free, it wouldn’t have done you much good to—”
“I should have done it anyway. I fucked up. Again.”
I raise a hand to stop him like he’s going to see me through the phone. “Look, I want to hear every damned detail. I’ll text you where to be, and you either meet us there in an hour or text me frequent updates letting me know why you’re late. If you don’t show, asshole, I swear you’ll think Randolph Collins let you off light.”
Marcus hangs up and I sit gulping air. There are too many gaps for me to make sense out of any of this. “What time is it?”
“Three-thirty.”
Okay, so Tray’s got a couple hours to get under cover. If he’s up in the hills somewhere he’ll be able to go to ground. He’s been alive too damned long not to. I tick through my reasoning again, setting my expectations. “Where’s Sheena?”
“I just messaged her. She’ll meet us at the car.”
“There’s too many of them in there for us to…” I let the idea fade.
Brodie just looks at me and after a minute he shakes his head. “We need more firepower. We didn’t come armed for war.”
I rake both hands through my hair. I don’t want to leave David, but we need more—more information, more allies, more weapons—before we try and bust him out. “We should have told him to meet us here.”
“If byhimyou mean the guy we’re supposed to text an address to, there’s still time to change your mind.”
“Good point.” Staring in the direction of the house, I play different scenarios in my head. “There’s a Duke’s down where the canyon road hits the Pacific Coast Highway. Tell him we’ll meet him in the parking lot.”
