Page 18 of King's Reckoning
They watched as the Devils confronted Blackwood's security team at the perimeter fence. Even from their position, the tension was visible in aggressive postures and pointing fingers. Words were exchanged, voices rising. Then suddenly one of the Devils threw a punch, and all hell broke loose.
"Perfect timing," King said through the radio, satisfaction evident in his voice. "While they're distracted, we move on the south entrance. Rowan, Reed, you're up. Barbara's got the building plans Elena left. There should be a service door that connects to the old tunnel system."
They made their way down the fire escape, staying in the shadows of loading docks and dumpsters. The fight between the Devils and Blackwood's men was spreading, drawing more security away from their target area. Rowan counted at least six pairs of men brawling, with more joining the fray.
Rowan and Reed reached the service door undetected. While he kept watch, she made quick work of the lock—another skill courtesy her training. Her mother's voice echoed in her memory."Sometimes, the easiest way in is the most overlooked."
Inside was dark and musty, decades of dust coating abandoned machinery. The air felt thick with age and secrets. But fresh boot prints marked the floor, leading toward the basement stairs. Modern security equipment had been hastily installed, wires running along aged walls.
"They've been excavating down there," Rowan whispered, following the tracks. The beam of her tactical light caught tool marks on the walls, places where older stonework had been exposed. "Looking for whatever Mom and Flash tried to protect."
Reed's hand caught her arm, pulling her to a stop. "Wait." He dragged her into an alcove as footsteps approached from below, his movements swift but gentle. They pressed together in the tight space, Rowan's back against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, steady despite the tension.
Two of Blackwood's men passed by, discussing something about structural integrity and load-bearing walls. Their boots crunched on debris as they headed for the fight outside. Once they were gone, Rowan started to move, but Reed's arm tightened around her waist.
"We should wait," he breathed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Make sure they're really gone."
The heat from him was impossible to ignore now, his body curved protectively around hers. Rowan turned her head, intending to argue, but found his face inches from hers. Those dark eyes caught her, held her. The air between them felt electric.
"Reed," she whispered, not sure if it was a warning or an invitation.
His free hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing her cheek. The touch was feather-light, but she felt it down to her bones. Twenty-five years of walls and secrets seemed to crumble in that moment. She swayed toward him, drawn by something stronger than gravity.
The explosion shattered the moment.
They broke apart as the building shook, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling. Through their earpieces came King's urgent voice. "Devils just breached the main entrance with explosives. They're heading for the basement. Get down there, now!"
Reality crashed back in. They had a mission. Personal feelings had to wait.
They found the basement access—a heavy steel door that had been recently installed, its modern security systems at odds with the ancient stonework around it. Inside was a maze of temporary walls and construction equipment. TheDevils' explosive entry had kicked up clouds of dust, making visibility poor.
"This way," Rowan said, consulting Elena's journal. The diagrams showed older tunnels beneath the main basement, access points that predated the warehouse itself. According to her mother's notes, the original structure had been built around something much older.
They found one such tunnel behind a section of removed wall. Archaeological equipment was scattered around. Blackwood's people had been getting close. Grid markers and measurement tools suggested careful excavation until very recently.
"Look at these markings," Reed said, indicating symbols carved into the tunnel walls. They matched ones from the documents in Flash's box—ancient writing mixed with more recent additions. "Your mother's notes mentioned something about 'layers of history.' Like each generation added their own secrets."
"Mom's notes mentioned a chamber," Rowan said, studying the journal by flashlight. The beam caught metallic flecks in the stone walls, making them sparkle. "Something about 'the heart of it all.' But the Devils—"
Gunfire erupted behind them, bullets sparking off stone. The Devils had found the tunnel entrance. Reed shoved Rowan behind a support pillar as more shots chipped the stone walls. The confined space amplified everything, the sound deafening.
"Go," he ordered, returning fire with controlled bursts. "Find what we came for. I'll hold them here."
"Like hell," Rowan snapped, already shooting back. Her rounds caught one Devil in the shoulder, spinning him back. "We do this together."
A ghost of a smile touched Reed's lips. "Stubborn woman."
"You have no idea."
More brothers were arriving, engaging the Devils from behind. The confined space turned the firefight into chaos. Muzzle flashes strobed through the dust, ricochets whined off stone walls. The air grew thick with the sharp tang of spent gunpowder.
Rowan and Reed fought as one unit, covering each other as they pushed deeper into the tunnel. She tried not to think about how natural it felt, how perfectly they complemented each other's movements. As if they'd been training for this moment all along.
The tunnel opened into a larger chamber with elegant stone arches overhead, supporting centuries of weight. The architecture was like nothing Rowan had seen before—a blend of styles that shouldn't exist together. And there, in the center…
"Oh my God," Rowan breathed.
A stone altar dominated the space, its surface covered in the same symbols they'd found in Flash's box. But it was what lay on the altar thatcaught her attention—another box made of gleaming metal. It was smaller than Flash's, but the craftsmanship was unmistakable.
