Page 60 of Blade

"So impatient," Jose chided. "But very well. Marcus, you're free to go. Consider your debt to the Rejects paid in full."

More footsteps. The sound of someone stumbling forward.

"Easy," Makenzie murmured, presumably catching Marcus. "I've got you."

"Now your turn, little girl," Jose called. "Come to papa."

The words sent a surge of rage through Blade. The mockery of the daddy dynamic, the perversion of something sacred between Lily and himself... it took every ounce of his self-control not to roar his fury.

"Steady," Jay murmured, noticing his reaction. "She's got this."

Through the comm, they heard Lily's measured footsteps as she apparently moved toward Jose.

"That's it," Jose encouraged. "Such a brave little thing. I can see why Blade's so... attached."

"Just get this over with," Lily replied, her voice tight with controlled fear.

"Oh, we're just getting started," Jose said, his tone changing from mock kindness to something darker. "Did you really think I'd let any of you leave here alive? After what you've cost me?"

And there it was. The inevitable double-cross.

"Move, move, move!" Lucky's voice cut in on the second channel, ordering the teams into action. "Jose's making his play. All units converge!"

On the tactical display, the GPS markers for the team began moving rapidly toward the quarry center. But they were still minutes away. Minutes Lily might not have. Blade’s heart was damn near beating out of his chest.

"Take them," Jose ordered, his voice fading slightly as if he'd stepped back from the confrontation.

The sound of a scuffle came through the comm. A feminine grunt of pain. Makenzie? Lily? Blade couldn't tell. A man's shout. The thud of a body hitting the ground.

"Run!" Lily's voice, urgent and commanding. "Get to the car! Now!"

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the speakers, then another. More scuffling, more shouting.

Blade surged to his feet, ignoring the tearing pain in his chest, the warm wetness that immediately began to spread across his shirt as stitches gave way.

"Sit down!" Doc ordered, trying to restrain him. "You can't help her by bleeding out here!"

"The hell I can't," Blade growled, shoving the smaller man aside. "Give me a weapon."

"Blade, don't—" Jay began, but he cut him off with a look that promised violence to anyone who tried to stop him.

"A weapon," he repeated. "Now."

Jay hesitated, then reached into a drawer, producing a handgun. "At least let Doc re-dress that wound before you go getting yourself killed," he said, not releasing the weapon yet.

"No time," Blade insisted, holding out his hand. "Our people are in the shit, and I'm not sitting here listening while it happens."

Another gunshot through the speakers. A man's scream of pain. Then Lily's voice again, breathless but determined.

"Fall back to the extraction point! I've got Marcus!"

She was fighting. His Lily, his baby girl, was fighting for her life, for Marcus's life, while he stood uselessly in the clubhouse, miles away.

Unacceptable.

Doc must have seen the resolve in his eyes, the willingness to go through him if necessary. "There's a bike ready outside. Keys in the ignition. Blade, you won't make it in time. The action's happening now. Lily is going to be devastated if you end up dead on the side of the road, bled out from stupidity."

"I’ll be fine and if I don’t make it there in time, I'll deal with the aftermath," he replied grimly, checking the weapon before tucking it into his waistband. "Coordinates?"

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