Page 6 of Judgment Day

Chandler groaned, “We know that already. Malcolm Huntington was helping him, and now he’s dead.”

“It wasn’t just Malcolm. And there’s a second house. The list has everyone—” He reached into his pants’ pocket, and his face fell. “Fuck. I left it on the plane.” He held up a finger. “Be right back.” He opened the back door, pausing before he hopped out. “I swear to God you’re going to shit when I tell you.”

Chandler rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “Are you going to lick my dick all night or do you plan on actually sucking it?”

Liam flipped him off, then slammed the door shut and ran toward the plane to grab the list—a list I’d talked him into swiping off his father’s computer, a list of names of everyone who had ever visited that house or had anything to do with that website. A list Winston kept for blackmail.

Everything from that moment on happened in slow motion.

A white van with a blue logo on the side rolled past. Chandler and I turned our heads to watch as a black-gloved hand dangled out the passenger window. Bright flashes exploded in mid-air as the deafening crackle of gunshots rang out.Pop. Pop. Pop.Three in a row.

I jerked my gaze to Liam. His eyes were wide as both hands clenched his chest, immediately soaked in his blood.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Chandler roared as I flung my door open and ran across the tarmac.

Liam fell to the ground before I could get to him. I dropped to my knees and cradled his upper body in my lap. His eyes were already cold and lifeless, and his head lolled to one side.

Chandler dropped beside me, locking his fingers in his hair while he repeatedly shouted, “What the fuck, what the fuck. What. The. Fuuuuuuuck.” His shouts grew louder with every word.

I tore open Liam’s jacket to find the source of the blood. So. Much. Blood. I gritted my teeth to keep my emotions in check. He’d been shot in the chest. Even if the one bullet hadn’t most likely grazed his heart, the two in his lungs would’ve left him drowning in his own blood.

The adrenaline from earlier felt like a weight crushing me now. I focused on my breathing. It was the only way to keep the demons from raging inside my head. Anger and vengeance pierced my soul. I threw my head back and screamed curses and promises at the sky. I would find who did this, and they would pay.

The sound of squealing tires and scent of burned rubber and smoke surrounded us.

My heart lurched to my chest as my eyes darted around the runway, my immediate thought being that they’d taken advantage of us being out in the open and run us all over. I blew out a breath when I saw Caspian circling around the plane to catch up with the white van. They fired a shot at the car, punching a hole through the windshield, but it didn’t slow him down. He continued at them with full force, T-boning them with a loud crash. Metal crunched against asphalt as the van flipped onto its side. Caspian put the car in reverse, then sped forward again, ramming into the bottom of the van. He pulled away as the whole thing exploded.

“Not that they didn’t deserve that, but how are we supposed to find out who they were now?” Chandler asked, his voice a cocktail of anger and agony.

I watched as the flames licked the sky. “Get that list. We’ll start there.”

THREE

Rage waslike the fire flaring from the scraps of steel and glass on the other side of the tarmac. Unpredictable and wild. Fierce and intimidating. It burned in my chest as I carried Liam to my SUV and placed his body in the back seat. It rolled off Caspian as he closed the door once Liam was in place. It radiated between Chandler and Lincoln as they stared in silence.

“Sorry about your car,” Caspian said, unable to take his eyes off the tinted window of my SUV where we’d just laid Liam. We couldn’t see inside once the door was closed, but the image of his body had been seared into our minds. It would never be unseen, never unfelt.

It was an odd thing to say. Of all the thoughts swimming through his mind, that was what he latched onto. Then again, I supposed it was the easiest one to put into words.

The front end of my McLaren was an accordion of crunched metal. The bullet hole in the windshield had splintered into a web of cracks. But it was only a car. Nowhere near as fragile or irreplaceable as a life.

“Don’t worry about it.” I nodded toward the third-row seat. “Get in. We owe it to him to finish this.”Iowed it to him. After all, I was the one who sent him after the list.

They all three gave a single nod, then climbed inside. I made a quick phone call to make sure my car was picked up, the van was disposed of, and that any details of what happened were locked up tight.

The drive was short. Traffic was scarce. We all sat in silent reverence as glimpses of moonlight flickered through the trees and across our solemn faces. I saw the road, felt the leather of the steering wheel beneath my fingertips, heard the tires whir against the asphalt, but it all felt surreal. I’d seen bloodshed, caused bloodshed, but it never came with this kind of pain.

The tall, church-like building came into view, and my heart thundered, pulse throbbing in my ears as I pulled in.

The Sanctuary was nothing more than a chamber built on the foundation of cruelty and fear. My grandfather helped build that chamber. I was going to help burn it down.

It was nearly midnight, and the Tribunal sat in their usual places, in their chairs behind the same semi-circular table where I’d sat for Judgment Day. King Winston and Pierce Carmichael were in the center with the other chairs vacant. After the unfortunate death of Prince Alexander of Norway, Winston called an emergency meeting of the Brotherhood. They’d been waiting on me to begin. I hoped they were ready for what I had to say.

I was almost certain they weren’t.

They took a lot of pride in the golden marble floor with the Obsidian logo in the center. I was about to cover it in blood.

The other members of the Brotherhood watched from their places on the balcony above as I walked between two white columns framing an arched opening and into the open space. Caspian, Lincoln, and Chandler followed.

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