Page 163 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
“The Artefact?” Beast asks, and Sin’s mouth curves up at the edge. It isn’t a happy smile. Maybe he’s remembering that he picked me up on my way to party there, that he took me to the clubhouse when I was sixteen years old, and he really should’ve left me alone. It all worked out for the best though. I mean, I think it did.
Guess we’ll see how today goes before I make my final judgement on that.
“The house where Gidge passed out the mafia’s bad dope,” Crown explains, and Beast works his jaw in thought.
“Sounds like another great place for a trap.” Grainger looks down at me, and then shakes his head. “What do we do? Pass the information to Cat?”
“He asked for Grey’s location in exchange for letting Reba go. Let’s give it to him.” I pause as Sin hands me a Kevlar vest.
“Put it on under your jacket,” he instructs, and I do, slipping off Beast’s leather for just a minute so that I can fit the vest underneath it. The guys are wearing them, too, I see.
“I have a feeling that Grey is playing us a bit,” I admit, because I know him far too well at this point. He allowed Beast to see him at the Palm Motel with the dual purposes of giving me Reba and also granting his father a boon at the same time. He sold me out, but he also warned me. I suspect more of the same today. “If I were a betting woman, I’d guess that the Don isn’t breaking off from his men; he’d stay with the bulk of his army.”
“At least until they engaged us, and he could take off,” Sin says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes, they sparkle like embers, that last flicker of violent heat before the coals turn gray and go silent … or spark into something new and start a secret inferno. He kicks a boot up as he leans against the wall, and he mulls the idea over for a minute. “Why come to the compound at all? Why not just wait for us to be pushed out by the fires, so they can hunt us in more neutral territory? I’m not saying the Don isn’t going to turn tail and run, but I bet Gidge is right: the whole of the mafia is going to be either in Ashbury proper or at the Artefact. There are only two ways out of here that avoid the fires.”
“Shit,” I breathe, and chills spring out across my skin. It makes sense. We could hunker down in the compound, and maybe the winds will shift, but what if they don’t? Then we’ll be pushed out anyway and we’ll find ourselves running right into the mafia’s army in a place they’ve scouted in advance. They’d have plenty of time to set up at the Artefact or in the downtown area. Explosives, roadblocks, snipers, you name it.
Yikes.
“We need to get to Cat—now.” Crown moves toward the front door as Sin pauses next to the fridge, opening it and handing me a bottle of orange juice to drink.
“You’ve got a long day ahead of you,” he says as I snatch it from his hand and unscrew the top. Sin grabs my wrist in tight fingers before I can lift the drink to my mouth, his eyes locking with mine. “Obey orders today, Gidge. If you love us, please God, listen to what you’re told and maybe we can all come back here alive at the end of this.”
“I will,” I tell him, and he releases me, leaving me to down half the juice in one go.
“Come on, wife,” Beast says as I set the bottle aside and follow him out to his bike.
It’s … apocalyptic out here.
And it turned so fast.
The sky is dark and strange with charcoal swirls digging through silver clouds, and the ash that was falling yesterday is thicker, whiter, more like snow. There are downed branches everywhere from the windstorm, and one of them is even speared through the roof of the porch, sticking out like a javelin.
Holy fuck.
It’s excruciating, the air out here. It’s thicker and denser than air should ever be. Like, it has its own, menacing presence. It oozes into my lungs and makes my entire chest ache. There’s this physical quality to it that’s disturbing. It clings to my lips so that when I run my tongue across the dryness, I can taste the ash. It was okay inside, with the HVAC system filtering out some of the gunk, but out here, it’s unbearable.
I yank my helmet on and climb up behind my husband, wrapping my arms around his huge, muscular form. The sound of four simultaneous engines whips through the air like the screeches of four warhorses signaling the beginning of battle.
