Page 29 of Desperate Victory

True. They could extract his failure out on him and leave Ezra alone. We’d paid to make sure that Ezra was free and in the clear. Still…

“It doesn’t matter where they are, other than we’ll need to deal with them first. Are we ready with a cell jammer?”

“Right here,” Liam said in a droll voice. “If you five want to give me and Vaughn a minute, we’ll clear the guards out for you.”

“You just want to have all the fun,” was Bodhi’s only comment, but he held up a hand and the rest of us halted.

“Cavendish… you get to have plenty of ‘fun,’ and I made Hellspawn a promise that I intend to keep.”

I had to bite back a smile. Every single one of the Vandals had a name for Em. The funny thing was, every one of those nicknames fit her. I had to admit though, I was rather fond of “Hellspawn,” because it went well with Pretty Boy’s nickname for me.

Mayhem and Hellspawn.

“True,” Bodhi said, then flicked a look to Adam as though deferring, however briefly. “You fine with it?”

“I want the target. Liam can have everything else he wants.” All the playfulness fled the moment. The murderous sobriety in Adam’s eyes darkened them to near purple.

“I like it when you agree with me,” Liam said, rolling with it though Pretty Boy frowned. “Let’s not make it too much of a habit, Adam. You and I are far better at the snarking.”

The attempt at humor didn’t land. As much as I wanted to comfort Adam, it wasn’t going to happen. We needed this retribution, for Ezra, for us, for our family. The fact Wallace Graham had survived this long was an affront, period.

“Go,” Pretty Boy said, confirming his agreement. Vaughn and Liam didn’t make any of us wait. They were already on the move. Ezra’s father’s office was located in the west wing of the home, on the far side from the family’s suites and the downstairs entertaining rooms.

It made sense. A lot of men preferred their offices to be a bastion of quiet and very private. So whether they were fucking a mistress on their desks or making a call to have someone killed, no one would interrupt them.

My grandfather’s office had always been right in the middle of Der Sonne. He was never apart from my grandmother or me. I would follow his lead. If I had to hide who I was from my family?

No. I refused.

A gentle stroke down the side of my hand pulled me to the present and grounded me. I took a deeper breath. Anger thrummed through my veins, throbbing like an old bruise.

Pretty Boy and Bodhi were both watching me. The corner of my mouth twitched upward. Just enough of a smile to let them know I heard them. I was here. I could see and feel them.

It seemed to satisfy them both and I glanced over to find Adam staring at me. He had his hand on Ezra’s shoulder, bracing him. Ezra’s head was down, his frown fierce. This was going to be hard on him. When I raised my eyebrows, Adam nodded to Ezra.

He wanted Ezra away from this. So did I, but this wasn’t our decision. Ezra needed to see this through every bit as much as we did. I swore Adam and I argued for a thousand years in that one stare, then he relented.

No, he didn’t have to like it. Just as he never wanted me in this fight, but he couldn’t keep me from it. The sound of a thump from around the corner made me curious to look, but I waited

In the scant few seconds since Liam and Vaughn moved out, there had been no sounds rushing out to detail their actions. A positive sign, because the guards had no reason to be quiet.

Didn’t make the waiting any less of a strain.

Another thud, then a softest drag of a shoe against the rug alerted us to Liam’s return a moment before he poked his head around the corner.

“Tag, lady and gentlemen, you’re it.”

Adam surged ahead and I followed right behind him. Ezra was behind us with Bodhi and Pretty Boy falling in around him. They were very much letting us have this one, only acting to protect us as needed.

The smaller library waiting area outside Wallace’s office was quiet. I swept it with a look as I stayed with Adam.

There were four men, somewhat stacked together like cordwood. They’d also been stripped of their weapons. At a glance, I couldn’t really tell if they were even still breathing.

Frankly, I didn’t care. At the doors to Wallace’s office, Adam waved us all to the sides. He didn’t bother with subtlety when he pulled out the Desert Eagle and shot the lock. It damn near blew off the handle. The gun’s report was loud in the close quarters.

Then he hit the door with his foot, kicking it open. Pretty Boy was right there, shoving the second door wide and they were both pointing guns at Wallace Graham, sitting behind his desk, an open bottle of Scotch on his desk and a half-full rocks glass in his hand.

The disheveled look didn’t suit him. His eyes were harder, colder, and his skin far more ashen than I was used to seeing it. There were also deep shadows beneath his eyes.

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