Page 96 of Thunder's Reckoning
“We’ve been played, ” Devil snarled, his face a mask of rage.
It sank in like a nail to the skull. They’d dangled bait, Gabrial parading with his men through Charleston like kings. And while we sat watchin’, they gutted the one place I swore was safe.
Jacob’s voice broke through. “I’m stayin’ on ’em, but if they split, I’ll lose track.”
“Stay on ’em,” Devil ordered. “Don’t get close, don’t get dead. Just eyes.”
“Understood.”
Hunter’s breath rasped heavy. “Thunder, I’m sorry. It was fast. They had everything timed it looks like. Back door wide open. Shears on the floor. Blood… not much, but enough.” His voice cracked. “Her bunny’s here, man. Zara’s bunny.”
That image hit harder than a fist.
Not the blood. Not the busted door.
The bunny.
Face down in the hall, button eyes starin’ blind.
“I’m gonna kill him.” My voice came out shredded. “I swear to Christ, I’ll burn him down for this.”
“Not alone you ain’t,” Horse growled.
Mystic’s knuckles went white on his handlebars. “We ride now. Don’t care if hell itself’s in the road.”
Devil’s voice cut clean. “Back to the house. All of you. Now. We regroup before we do a goddamn thing else.”
Engines roared. The convoy spun hard outta Charleston, lights flashin’ off storefront glass as we tore down the strip and out onto the highway.
I barely saw the road. My head was nothin’ but flashes, Sable’s eyes in lamplight, Malik’s careful questions in the garage, Zara’s giggle at breakfast, Momma’s braid swingin’ as she worked the kitchen. Now all of it was in his grip. Gabrial’s.
The roar of engines carried across dark fields. Gravel spit fire as we turned up the long drive.
The house waited, silent and broke.
We were off our bikes, boots hittin’ dirt, weapons ready though it didn’t matter. War had already been here.
The porch light busted. The front door hangin’ crooked, splinters scattered across the entry. Inside, the kitchen lay in ruins, chairs overturned, glass shattered, a dark smear of blood across the table.
And there it was.
The bunny.
Zara’s. Lyin’ in the hall, soft ear bent, one button eye starin’.
The sight near knocked me to my knees.
Mystic bent low, picked it up gentle like it still held her warmth. He didn’t speak. Just set it on the counter.
Hunter stood stiff by the wall, pale, jaw tight. “They fought. Hard.” He pointed at the blood, the snapped shears on the counter. “Miriam didn’t go easy.”
Bolt’s fists curled, voice low, lethal. “She never would.”
I stood in the wreckage, the silence screamin’ louder than any battle I’d fought. My chest heaved. My hands shook.
“They ain’t gone,” I rasped. “They’re taken.”
Devil filled the doorway, shadow heavy, voice steady steel. “And we’ll get ’em back. But not blind. Not reckless. Gabrial wanted this, he wanted you burning rage before you could think. Don’t give it to him.”
