Page 73 of Illusionist
“Jesus,” Teddy pants against Nova's shoulder. “That was?—”
“Incredible,” Nova finishes, her voice fucked-raw.
I press a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting salt and satisfaction. “You two are going to be the death of me.”
“What a way to go,” she laughs breathlessly.
I'm about to respond when the trailer door bursts open. Cole, Logan, and Rowe storm in, Cole talking rapidly.
“Silas, the fed escaped! The trailer's empty and the door was—” Cole stops mid-sentence, his eyes going wide as he takes in our naked, tangled forms.
Rowe lets out a low whistle. “Well, shit.”
Logan just grins. “That's one way to handle a prisoner.”
I can't help the lazy smirk that spreads across my face as I remain exactly where I am, still buried inside Nova while Teddy's beneath her.
“He's joining the family too,” I drawl, running a hand down Teddy's muscled arm.
Elias appears in the doorway behind the others, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. “Of course he is.” He shakes his head with resigned amusement. “Silas always was greedy.”
26
NOVA
Afew days after Teddy, Silas, and I solidify our polyamorous relationship, the tension in the meeting trailer crackles with anticipation. We're all crammed around the fold-out table—all seven brothers, plus Teddy, Jules, and me.
“So,” Silas says, sprawled in his chair with that controlled grace he shares with Elias, “what's our next move with daddy dearest?”
Elias leans back, his pale gray eyes calculating. “We've been busy the past few days while you three were... bonding.” His smirk makes heat crawl up my neck. “The spray paint was just the opening salvo.”
“What else have you done?” Teddy asks, his federal agent instincts still sharp despite everything that's happened between us.
Cole grins, spinning his knife between his fingers. “Let's just say Malachi's been having a very bad week.”
“We've been systematic,” Elias explains. “Anonymous tips to the IRS about financial irregularities in his foundation. Leaked documentation of missing children from his programsto investigative journalists.” He kisses the side of Jules's head. “Social media campaigns questioning his charitable work.”
Logan's scarred hands flex on the table. “Also may have caused some... technical difficulties with his security system. Few small fires in his neighborhood. Nothing traceable, of course.”
“The man's paranoid as fuck now,” Jonah rumbles with satisfaction. “Hired private security, installed new cameras, barely leaves his house.”
“Good,” Rowe says quietly. “Let him feel what it's like to be prey.”
I watch their faces as they describe their psychological campaign, noting the cold satisfaction in their eyes. These men have turned revenge into an art form, and I find myself oddly proud to be part of their family.
“But there's a problem,” Marek says from the shadows. “Malachi's foundation. The Bellmour Youth Initiative.”
“What about it?” I ask.
Elias's expression hardens. “It's still operating. Still bringing in at-risk children. Even if we eliminate Malachi, the infrastructure remains. The other board members, the staff, the network he's built… it'll continue without him.”
“So we burn it all down,” Logan suggests with typical fire-eater logic.
“And the children currently in the system?” Teddy interjects. “The kids who are actually getting legitimate help?”
The question hangs heavy in the air. These men have spent their lives hunting monsters, but they're not monsters themselves. The thought of innocent children suffering because of their actions clearly troubles them.
“That's the dilemma,” Elias says grimly. “How do we destroy Malachi's operation without harming the children it's supposedly helping?”
