Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“You didn’t have to sit in the back,” Reese told Danny as she climbed in the car. “Aren’t you squished back there?”
“I’m fine,” he replied, sitting in the center with his arms spread out across the backs of the seats.
“He knows I would’ve made him move,” I informed her as I backed out. “You’re not sitting in the back seat.”
“I’d fit fine back there,” Reese argued.
“You sit next to me.”
“Oh, good grief.”
I listened as Reese and Danny chatted about her apartment and Europe and a hundred other things as we drove to her apartment. The conversation never lagged, and I relaxed into the seat. They got along well. Actually, Reese got along well with my entire family. At some point when I wasn’t looking, she’d settled into our unit like she’d always been there.
The apartment complex was quiet when we got there. Most of the people living in Reese’s building worked during the day, and we didn’t see anyone as she led us up to her door. She and Danny were bickering good-naturedly, and I was enjoying the fact that they were in such good moods.
I think that’s why I didn’t realize that things were too quiet.
The sound of Reese’s scream was something I’d remember until they burned me.
Vampire instincts were nothing if not efficient, and before she ran out of breath, I’d shoved her between Danny and me, taking in the scene in an instant.
Reese’s long-haired neighbor was on the couch, and he was absolutely mutilated. There was blood everywhere. The floor, the table, the lampshade, the wall. The couch was saturated.
“Behind,” Danny said sharply.
Reaching back for Reese, I yanked her inside the apartment with me and listened as Danny slammed the door closed behind us. He was already on the phone, calling in help.
Reese made little mewling noises, but I couldn’t focus on her yet. I was still taking in the apartment.
All of her books had been pulled from the shelves. Every cupboard in the kitchen was open. The pillows on her couch had been sliced open. It was chaos.
Then I saw the boot prints.
Bloody and headed toward the back of the apartment.
“Danny,” I said quietly, shoving Reese toward him.
I strode quietly toward the hallway, but my silence made absolutely no matter because before I’d even reached it, a man came out of Reese’s bedroom, and he didn’t hesitate.
Smart man, but he should’ve brought a knife.
I rushed him as he fired, the bullets hitting me center mass. He’d been trained well, but he’d never had a chance.
Making sure that I kept my body between him and my mate, I met his eyes as I reached out and slammed his arm into the wall so he’d drop the pistol. It took seconds.
His head was in my hands in the next moment, and I’d never been more satisfied by a sound as when I snapped his neck.
Before his body had even hit the floor, I rushed into Reese’s room. Trashed but empty.
Bathroom—the same.
“Beau?” Danny called.
“Clear,” I called back, bracing my hand against the wall as I blinked. Shit.
Giving my head a shake, I strode back out to the front of the apartment. Danny had tipped one of Reese’s bookcases in front of the door.
“How many?” I asked, slowing.
“Not sure,” Danny replied, peeking out the curtains. “Two that I can see.”
I nodded and found Reese. Danny had tucked her in the little corner where the two couches met. She was unhurt and shaking so hard that I could see it from across the room.
“Pull back the bookcase,” I ordered, looking back at my brother.
“Ambrose is ten out,” he argued. “Fifteen tops.”
“Move it,” I ordered again.
His eyes lingered on my chest, but I refused to look down. If I saw how many times I’d been hit, I’d feel it.
I needed just a few more minutes.
“I’ll go,” Danny said, pulling his Beretta out of the shoulder holster he never went without.
“No, you fucking won’t,” I ground out. “Stay with her until I give the all-clear.”
“We can wait them out,” he argued, even as he tried to hand me the pistol.
“Not taking that chance.” I shook my head. “Keep it.”
“Bjorn.”
“Move the bookcase, Arne,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. If he kept me inside much longer, we were fucked.
As he slid the bookcase back, I met Reese’s terrified eyes.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” I promised.
“Don’t,” she rasped.
“Right back,” I repeated.
The next thirty seconds passed by in a blur, muscle memory carrying me through as I took down the man outside the door. Another bullet hit my thigh as I jumped over the railing and landed on the top of a piece of shit sedan, but I kept moving. Stopping wasn’t an option.
The last one ran. He wasn’t fast enough.
Scanning the parking lot, I let myself pause, waiting for anything to stand out. There was nothing.