Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Unfortunately, he was also huge, and dragging him into the trees to tie him up was a fucking pain in the ass.
“Feels like they’re getting younger and younger,” Chance said as we stared at the four Vampires tied to the trees.
“They are,” Dalton replied from behind us. “Used to be that you had to be thirty to join Command. Now it’s twenty, and they make them security guards or admin clerks at the training center. It’s bullshit.”
I glanced at Ian, who had to be older than twenty.
“I won’t work for Command,” he said flatly, his eyes dark.
“None of my sons will,” Dalton added.
We left the Vampires in the trees and made our way back to the house. The front door was open, and we walked right in. Moving silently, we made our way through the foyer and checked rooms as we followed voices downstairs to a large room overlooking the water.
There was no security inside.
“They’re getting anxious,” a familiar grating voice said as we stopped in the hallway. “If we don’t get the Bouchers and Dalton fucking Cavendish under control, they’re going to back out.”
“The Bouchers aren’t willing to leave their little compound. Haven’t in weeks.”
“They took out an entire unit. The humans are worried.”
“That’s because someone had the bright idea to try to take them when they were all together.”
“The brothers weren’t supposed to be there.”
“They weren’t there. But they didn’t leave the place undefended, and whoever thought they would was a fucking idiot.”
“It’s over. There’s no reason to keep harping on it.”
“If you think Erik Boucher and his boys aren’t planning something, you’re the fucking idiot.”
Three voices. Three very familiar voices. I looked at Chance.
No way in hell had we gotten this lucky.
“The Bouchers are hobbled, at least for now. They’re regrouping, but we’ve got time.”
“Have you met Erik Boucher?”
“It’s Cavendish we need to deal with. He’s been asking questions, and he’s not quiet about it—and he’s got that ridiculous company. Strike. Gods, he’s always been insufferable.”
“Hermann doesn’t care about Vampire squabbles. He wants results, and he’s getting them. He thinks another year, maybe two.”
“That’s at least twenty-five more mates, yes?”
“At least.”
“Well, that’s doable.”
“Not if Cavendish is telling everyone and their mothers that mates are disappearing.”
“He’s got no proof.”
“His son’s mate was held for over a week. Who knows what she heard? We need to take care of that.”
My eyes flickered, and I blinked hard, trying to stop them. It was never a good time to see things through a haze of red, but this might be the worst. I needed to keep my shit together.
“If she’d heard anything, we’d already know about it.”
“Cavendish sounds like a crackpot, and he won’t be a problem for much longer. I want to know when payment is coming through. They’ve missed the last two, and I’m not putting my head on the line if they’re not going to keep their end of the deal.”
“They’ll pay.”
“When?”
“I’ll talk to Baudelaire.”
I kept my eyes on Chance. Zeke had been right when he’d hypothesized that François Baudelaire was funding the project. He hadn’t even put it in his notes because it had just been an idea, but he’d mentioned it to Lucy and Charles before he’d gone back to his unit. Gods, if we sat here long enough, I wondered just how much information these Vampires would spill.
“They shouldn’t have killed the youngest Boucher. You do realize we’re fucked now, right? They won’t stop.”
“So we’ll stop them.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
“The Bouchers are off the board for now. Relax, Morren.”
“You’re wrong.”
“We only need twenty-five more, and then we can be through with this entire thing. Eyes on the prize.”
“So…fifty,” Morren said dully. “Twenty-five Vampires and twenty-five mates. That’s fifty.”
“You’re getting soft.”
“I didn’t want to do any of this in the first place.”
“Yet, here you are.”
“Are we done here? I need to be back in Virginia before sunrise. I’ve got meetings all day.”
“We’re done. All of us just need to keep things tight and our heads down for a little longer.”
“You’ll let me know how tonight goes?”
“Yep.”
Dalton reached out slowly and pressed his fingers to my arm. When I met his gaze, I nodded.
We barely made a sound as we entered the room.
Adamson was sitting in an armchair, his head in his hands. Morren looked like he was going to shit himself as he stood near the window, and Keihley’s eyes narrowed in anger when he realized who’d come to visit.
“Rollins,” Morren yelled, taking a step sideways like it would matter.
“If you’re hoping for one of those young bucks to come save you, you’re out of luck,” Chance said cheerfully, his rifle pointed at Morren’s chest. “They’re a little tied up at the moment.”
“You should really train them better,” Ian added nonchalantly.
“Who the hell are you?” Keihley asked.
“Fuck off, trash,” Ian shot back.
“Dalton,” Adamson said, rising slowly from the chair. “What are you doing here?”