Page 25 of Broken Kingdom

I jog forward, reaching a tiny window and peering in to see Juliet and my cousin Bethany fighting for control of a gun on the floor of a tiny bathroom.

But then, I already know Bethany is a traitor.

Thankfully, it looks like Juliet got the memo, too.

I’m about to let her know backup’s here when one of Jean-Paul’s guards crashes through the bathroom door.

Fourteen

Juliet

Bethany cries out for help and suddenly everything happens at once.

The female bodyguard bursts into the bathroom, splintering the door as she shoves through the locked deadbolt, my skin starts to sizzle with a familiar electricity, and a voice in my head shouts, Roll toward the window, Juliet! Now!

Ford. It’s Ford!

And because it’s Ford, I do something that’s rare for me—I roll away from my cousin without hesitation or second guessing.

A second later, muffled shots fire and the bodyguard sags back against the bathroom wall, two bullet holes through her forehead. Her wide eyes go lifeless as she slides down to the floor and slumps onto her side.

A whimpering Bethany turns toward the window, her arms lifted in surrender and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, don’t shoot. I’m pregnant.” She sucks in a shaky breath. “Cousin Ford? Is that you? Thank the goddess, you have to save me. Juliet’s lost her mind. She thinks I’m a traitor, but I’m not.”

“Shut your mouth and keep your hands up, Bethany,’” Ford says. “Juliet, are you okay?”

Jumping back to my feet, the gun I stole from Bethany in hand, I lock eyes with Ford through the tiny window. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see someone in one piece. A lump forming in my throat, I nod. “Yeah. I’m good. Missed you, though. Was kind of hoping I might get to see you again.”

His gaze filling with emotion, he says in a husky voice, “You’re going to have to do a lot more than get kidnapped by a psychopath to get rid of me. So, what’s the story with her? Is she really pregnant?”

I exhale as I glance back at the still trembling and weeping Bethany. “She is, but she’s also a traitor. She’s working with Jean-Paul, and they may have been planning to kill me.”

“She’s doing a lot more than working with him,” Layla says, her head appearing beside Ford’s shoulder in the tiny space, making my chest flood with gratitude all over again.

“You’re okay,” I say, my voice cracking.

“Sure am, and I’ve got all the tea on this bitch,” she says as Ford punches out the window screen. It falls to the floor with a sharp smack. I glance quickly over my shoulder, checking the bridal suite for more guards, but so far it doesn’t seem like anyone’s noticed the commotion.

“Bethany is fucking Jean-Paul,” Layla continues. “That’s most likely his baby, and they’re planning to sacrifice you to make their pack invincible in advance of a big shifter war.”

“That’s not true,” Bethany says, her bottom lip quivering in an impressive display of theatrics. “Jean-Paul blackmailed me. He told me he’d kill me and my baby if I didn’t help him convince Juliet to be his queen. I’m a pawn in all this. Just like Juliet.”

“Is that why you were skipping through the flowers with him earlier today?” Ford asks as he grips the edge of the stone windowsill and gives it a rough shake. “This isn’t budging and none of us can fit through the window except Catherine.”

“And I don’t think a hedgehog will be much help in there at the moment,” Catherine says from somewhere just out of my line of sight, sending another rush of relief dumping into my bloodstream. At least three of my friends are alive and here to help me.

The world isn’t all betrayal and nightmares. I have brave, incredible people in my life who love me enough to risk their lives for mine. And thanks to them there’s still a chance to stop whatever Jean-Paul and Bethany had planned before it’s too late.

“Is there another exit close by?” Ford asks. “A bigger window or something maybe?”

I shake my head. “No, there aren’t any windows in the bridal suite and there are guards outside the only door. They’ll probably be coming to get me for the ceremony any minute now. But if I can get this collar off, I think my phoenix can do something about that window. The seamstress put a pick and torsion wrench in my hem for me. I just need to find them on the floor.”

“No worries about that, girl, I got you.” Layla holds up a small black pouch. “I grabbed a lock-picking kit from the strike team’s gear this afternoon. Get over here, and I’ll have you out in no time.”

“You stay right where you are,” Ford says to Bethany, keeping his gun trained on her over my head. Meanwhile, Layla reaches through the crowded window to get to the lock on my collar.

“Please, just let me go,” Bethany begs as Layla starts to work. “I won’t warn anyone or turn on you again. I’ll just walk away and raise my baby in peace.”

“She killed Lucas,” I say. “Don’t listen to her.”

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