Page 71 of The Merciless

His head was still pounding, his breath coming out a bit harshly, as he regained a sense of balance. The first thing he did was take a step away from the vomit and force himself to not breathe or look in that direction as he turned softly and strode toward the open metal doors of the prison.

Water,he thought when he stepped into the dark hallway,he needed water.

And he needed to get the hell out of here.

Angel braced a hand on the metal pole of the open gates, the other balling into a fist before he slammed it harshly against his chest. The chocolate crinkled in his head as he coughed and pushed away from the empty place.

Martin had made a grave mistake in putting himhere,a stupid decision in all honesty, all considering he’d lived here all his life and knew this place like the back of his hand.

And now it was up to him to decide whether he’d take an easy way out or–

Angel sighed. He could either turn right and walk out of this place without looking back. Could get to Ray’s friends, to Noah and everyone else, and get her out.Or he could gamble on his people.

So, Angel strode to his left, standing straighter with every step as he climbed the stairs that led up to the kitchen they’d all been barred from ever since Isabella had died. All because it led down tothishell. Angel had spent countless hours down here, usually the one outside the bars. Who knew he’d end up on the other side?

A humorless laugh left his lips as he reached the door and inhaled deeply. There was no doubt there were people,Martin’s and herpeople, standing on the other end of the room. But there was one misjudgment that Martin had made when he’d thought to lock him up here.

It was with that thought Angel grabbed the knob of the door and twisted it open.

Theclickingof guns filled the air, but he stepped through without looking up at any of the men or women standing in the kitchen. A dangerous game, that’s all this was. And all Angel was banking on was Christina Morris and her words. Her conviction and whether or not she’d managed to get all of them to agree.

Maybe that’s why he walked through the faintly crowded place without a single one of them shooting his brains out. Maybe a mercy? He wouldn’t give them the same courtesy though.

Angel didn’t say a word until he reached the kitchen sink and grabbed a glass from the counter. An odd sheet of silence settled upon them as he filled the glass with water. Heard the faint shifting of feet behind him, the rustle of metal against skin as they all took a few steps toward him. None of them dared step within his attacking range though.

A faint smile tilted his lips as he gargled the water and spat it out before filling the glass again.

He drank to his content and set the glass down gently, the nerves in his veins calming with years of patience. Heknewthese people. Had worked with them all his life. And if they decided to goagainsthim after all, he’d show them the same face he’d shown all his foes over the past years.

Unflinching. Painful.

Angel turned on his heels and faced the crowd.

Merciless.

“You all have five seconds.” Angel said calmly, his deep voice booming in the small area as he opened the chocolate. He saw them flinch, heard their sharp inhales as he looked at each one of them, “Five seconds to decide if you’ll walk with me, or Martin De Santos.”

No one said anything. The ringing in his ears became louder. He didn’t have time for sweet words like Christina. So he picked the next best thing.

“La muerte no te hace ningún favor.”Angel said softly, a pang going through his chest as his eyes sharpened with focus, “Muerto, no puedes hacer nada.”

Death does you no favors.

Dead, you can do nothing.

He had a sudden urge to touch the glass shard sitting against his neck but knew it would be a show of breaking. A show of pain and fear. Right now, he needed pure, unrelentingstrength.They needed strength and willpower. It’s what they would follow.

It took a moment.

Angel saw them exchange nervous glances and a shard of doubt carved up his chest when he saw them murmur to one another. He bit into the chocolate, using the flavor as an attempt to get his hands to stop shaking. Anticipation,fear,is what this was. Something new. The way his entire body shuddered, the way itwantedto go running out those doors and get to Ray.

A soft rustling brought him back to focus, and his chin tipped upwards with satisfaction when he saw them lower their weapons one by one.

“Have you made your choice?” he asked in Spanish and repeated the question in English until all of them had their weapons lowered, “Will you stand with me?”

Will you stand against a foreign enemy?

None of them replied.

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