Page 124 of Thunder's Reckoning
Bolt and Spinner checked their knives one by one, thumb skatin’ across the edges, mutterin’ under their breath like each blade carried a name.
Mystic packed explosives with steady hands, eyes narrowed, every move deliberate, like he already heard the echoes of what came after.
Chain strapped the rifle across his back, chambered a round, checked it again, then again, like the click itself was keepin’ him from losin’ control.
Gearhead laid out spare mags in a neat row, lips movin’ in a quiet prayer, his fingers brushin’ the cross tattoo on his hand.
Devil was last, slow as stone, draggin’ on his cut and settlin’ it over his shoulders like a king claimin’ his shield. He didn’t need to say a word, but when his eyes hit mine, I knew what he meant clear as day:Don’t let your rage burn hotter’n your head, or she dies right along with your momma and those kids.
When the room cleared, I stayed, hands braced on the table like if I let go the whole damn world might tilt clean off its axis. The blueprint lay open in front of me. Every hallway, everychamber, every hidden line looked the same now, each one inked with her name.
Sable.
But it wasn’t just her face I saw when I closed my eyes. It was Zara’s little arms wrappin’ ‘round my neck. Malik standin’ tall, tryin’ to be braver than his ten-year-old heart could manage. My momma, silver hair tied back, voice steady even when her hands shook, draggin’ me outta the fire once, fightin’ to keep me breathin’ when that world wanted to take me.
I folded the map slow, slid it into my cut.
Outside, my bike waited. Black frame gleamin’ under low light, chrome scuffed from every fight we’d ridden through. I ran my hand along the bars, thumbed the tank like it was a prayer. She wasn’t just a machine. She was the horse I’d ride into hell, and she deserved to know it.
“Just you and me again, girl,” I muttered.
I was checkin’ my knives, re-holsterin’ my sidearm, shovin’ a spare mag in my pocket when I heard footsteps beside me.
Gearhead stepped outta the shadows, his cut hangin’ heavy on his shoulders, face lined with the kind of worry a man don’t put into words. He didn’t say anything at first. Just reached into his vest and pulled out a single mag, slid it across the seat of my bike.
“Loaded with tracers,” he said quiet, his voice low enough only I’d hear. “Figured you’d want ‘em. You always did like leavin’ a mark.”
Our eyes met, and for a second all the noise in my chest went still.
“Appreciate it, brother,” I rasped.
Gearhead gave one short nod, his jaw tight. “We’ll bring ‘em back, Thunder. All of ‘em.”
I swallowed hard, the words sittin’ heavy in my throat. I didn’t trust myself to speak again, so I just gripped his shoulder tight, lettin’ that say the rest.
Then I swung my leg over, kicked the stand, and turned the key.
The engine roared awake, deep and mean, thunder rollin’ down off the hills to rattle the ground beneath me.
“I’m comin’, darlin’,” I muttered, voice low, rough as gravel. “You hold the fuck on. You and the kids. And Momma too.”
I let the roar of the bike drown out every fear I didn’t have time to feel.
We rode tonight.
Straight into the fire.
And I wasn’t leavin’ without ‘em.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
GABRIAL
CHILDREN OFthe Flame compound
The chamber was low and narrow, carved intothe stone long before I inherited it, every corner steeped in ritual. No windows marred the walls, only scripture. Etchings branded into plaster by flame-hardened hands, words of obedience, sacrifice, purity. Every stroke of ash and soot was a reminder: nothing escaped fire unmarked.
The air hung heavy with myrrh and smoke, resin and oil seeping into stone until even the walls breathed devotion. Thelamps circling the altar burned with steady light, flames bowing in rhythm, throwing golden shadows that writhed across the chamber like obedient spirits. At the far wall, the ceremonial flame burned, small, controlled, unyielding. It had never gone out. Forty years of careful tending, fed by faithful hands that knew fire wasn’t wild by nature. Fire only consumed when it was disciplined.
