Page 95 of Thunder's Reckoning
We tailed Gabrial’s men easy, our convoy stretched just far enough we didn’t draw eyes. Devil led, sure and silent, rest of us fallin’ in behind.
The SUV pulled up outside some white-tablecloth joint where the rich folk paid too much for wine and meat they barely cooked. They got out like they belonged—jackets sharp, hair slick, eyes cold. Calculated. Always calculated.
We watched ’em go in, watched the valet take their keys.
Mystic leaned forward in his seat, drumming restless fingers on his knee. “This don’t smell right. They’re too calm.”
Chain grunted from beside me, his eyes locked on the glow spillin’ out the restaurant windows. “Men don’t sit down to surf-and-turf in the middle of a hunt. Not unless they’re already fed.”
I said nothin’, just kept watchin’. The itch between my shoulders wouldn’t quit.
They were inside near an hour. Came out slow, casual, talkin’ low amongst themselves. Then it was back into the SUV, headin’ across town. We followed, keepin’ shadows between us.
They pulled up to one of the ritziest hotels in Charleston. Marble steps, doormen in white gloves. Not the kinda place a pack of killers usually bedded down. But they walked in calm, checked in like they had reservations waitin’.
“They’re bedding down here,” Devil said, his eyes on the hotel.
“Or makin’ it look like they are,” Mystic muttered.
I narrowed my eyes, watchin’ the gold doors swallow ’em. Too neat. Too easy.
Spinner spat a curse. “So we hit the lobby, drag Gabrial out by his damn throat?”
“No,” Devil snapped before I could even open my mouth. His gaze stayed locked on the hotel, hard as stone. “We’re not storming no five-star full of cameras and uniforms. That’s exactly what he wants, us in cuffs while he slips off clean.”
Mystic swore, slappin’ his palm on the handlebar. “So what, we just watch?”
Devil’s jaw flexed. “I’m beginning to believe that’s the plan.”
Silence. None of us had.
“Just not ours,” he added. “He wanted us to see him. It’s theater. Shadows, not the man himself. Gabrial isn’t sitting in a hotel suite waiting on us. He’s too smart for that. I’m willing to bet he walked right out the back.”
Engines idled low, heat seepin’ into our boots from the concrete. The frustration sat thick in the air, but Devil was right. If we made a move here, we’d be buryin’ ourselves before the real fight even started. But if this is a set-up then that means—
My phone buzzed before the thought could take root.
Jacob.
I snatched it up, putting it on speaker. “Talk.”
His voice came rough, rushed, road noise loud behind him. “Thunder, you need to get back here. Now. Two black vans just tore outta your momma’s drive.”
Ice hit my veins.
“You see ’em loadin’?”
“No. We rolled up just in time to see tail-lights vanishin’ down the county road. I’m on ’em now, but they’re pushin’ ninety.”
My pulse roared in my ears. “Hunter?”
Another voice cut in, breath ragged. Hunter. “Inside’s a mess. Front door’s busted. Chairs overturned. There’s blood on the table. They’re gone, brother. Miriam, Sable, the kids—they’re gone.”
The words cut me open raw. For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Then fury hit, red and wild.
“Fuck!” My fist slammed the handlebars.
