Page 108 of The Dark Before Light

Alistair’s eyes widen. He glances at Sven. “Did I hear Oliver’s name in there?” Sven nods and my brother’s gaze snaps back to me. “Oliver?”

“He makes Talia’s skin crawl,” is all I can think to say. And really, it’s the only thing that matters. The only thing that makes sense. Because she makes sense.

And I’ll go to war on her word alone.

“I understand people instinctively. I see their layers, fault lines, and strengths. All the hidden treasures of the psyche. My first impressions are rarely wrong.”

There’s a storm gaining force and intent inside me. A dark vortex of screaming winds and freezing clarity. Slowly, so slowly—otherwise I’ll lose control—I turn out of Alistair’s hold. One step brings me face-to-face with Sven.

“I love you like a brother.”

“Don’t,” he whispers.

“You’re fired.” I hold out my hand. “Car keys. Now.”

He grabs my shoulders much as Alistair did, but his grip is punishing. “Think for a second, Kier. You don’t know where he has her. If you do find them, you have no idea what you’re walking into.”

From the open sliding door, Tom Bronson says crisply, “We hacked security feeds at McCann’s primary residence. Thirty-eight minutes ago, a sedan with unregistered plates arrived through the service gate. Driver has been ID’d as Bradley Mills. A woman was taken from the trunk into the house by Mills and McCann. She was conscious and struggling.” He looks at Sven. “Am I calling this in or are we keeping it in-house?”

“Talia is family,” he answers. “We’re handling this ourselves.”

“Amen,” murmurs Dylan.

The storm inside me reaches critical levels. Before I can fracture into a million pieces, Sven grabs me by the back of the neck. “I want you wired and in a vest. You do what I say, go where I say, and you don’t fucking deviate. Clear?”

Relief threatens to melt my kneecaps. “Yes. Clear.”

Tom steps forward. “Please tell me you’re not considering taking your Principal into a high risk?—”

“I want five of your guys,” Sven interrupts him, his voice steel. “And the arsenal I know is in that van outside.”

Tom’s thin lips curve. “Is there room for one more on the extraction team?”

Sven nods. “Always.”

As Tom retreats into the house, Dylan touches my arm. “Come on. I’ll get you suited up.”

My brother’s wavering voice halts me halfway across the deck.

“Kier? Do you have to go?”

I meet his worried gaze and resist the urge to hug him, afraid I’ll collapse in his arms. My voice cracks as I say, “I love her. I won’t lose her. I can’t.”

He watches me a long moment, then nods. “Bring her home, then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

My heart whispers the rest: If she isn’t coming home, neither am I.

Chapter 32

Talia

My head throbs in time with my heartbeat, my jaw aches from the press of a gag, and my left hip radiates sharp pulses of pain—either from falling to asphalt beneath Gabe’s weight or slamming against the walls of a car trunk while unconscious.

The physical discomfort is manageable. The oily fear in my mind is harder to control.

I’m not blindfolded. I know who my kidnappers are—Bradley Mills and Oliver McCann. And I know where we are thanks to my unwilling tour of the downstairs of the house, including a hallway with portraits of Oliver and his wife.

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