Page 15 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“Zoom,” I say roughly before clearing my throat from the roughness that comes through.

“Three guards,” Atlas murmurs. “One by the front smoking. One patrolling the side every…” we sit in silence as Atlas counts “…five minutes and one near the back entrance.”

My pulse slams against my chest. Not one guard, or none, but enough to mean that something orsomeoneis worth protecting inside. I lean closer to the screen to get a better look.

“How many entrances and exits?” Felix asks like a soldier reading coordinates. Atlas adjusts the drone and the image dips slightly before stabilising again.

“One front door,” he responds, clicking a key and shifting the angle. “Back door too. The rear looks reinforced with new hardware.” The feed zooms tighter and I can see the faint shine of fresh metal against old wood.

“Best bet’s the front,” Atlas continues. “Victor can pick it quietly. The back will take longer.”

Felix gives a single nod but his shoulders don’t loosen. Neither do mine and I see his jaw clench.

“She’s here, I can feel her,” Felix states as he turns his intense gaze to me. “Okay, roll out. As soon as it’s clear I’m coming in too.”

Nobody argues.

Felix may handle our logistics, but Fae isn’t just a mission to him; she is his twin. If anyone has earned the right to reach her first, to be close enough to see the damage before the rest of us, it’s him. And I hate that. The thought of him getting to her before I do, of him touching her or speaking her name sends a possessive pulse through my chest.

“Comms check,” Felix says, slipping instantly into command.

“Clear,” I answer.

“Clear,” Victor echoes.

“Clear and freezing, cheers.”

“Clear. And Riggs, for fuck's sake, shut up,” Atlas barks as Riggs smiles.

“We do this clean and silent. No heroics. Roman, Victor, Riggs, take a guard each. Atlas, keep eyes. If we say freeze, you freeze. If we say pull back, you pull back. We currently only have eyes outside and she needs to come out as safely as possible.”

We file out of the van as Felix knocks each of us on the knuckles on the way through. He is serious in a way that makes the night feel sharper. It is the first time I have seen this side of him. And it is not because he has a thirst for blood but because he wants his sister.

The countryside swallows us immediately. The rain feels heavier out here, a steady sheet drowning everything instantly. Gravel crunches underfoot until we hit grass and the cottage sits ahead; it is low and deceptively pretty, framed by wet hedges and skeletal trees. A place you’d expect to smell of woodsmoke and tea.

A place you’d expect to be safe.

“Front guard is alone having a cigarette; his back is turned. You’ve got a window.” Atlas’ voice is quiet in my ear.

“I’m taking the front,” I say.

“I’ll take the back,” Victor states and Riggs sighs like he’s been assigned chores.

“Fine. I’ll take the wanderer.”

I move first.

The front guard is exactly where Atlas said, standing beneath the porch light, his cigarette is bright in the rain. He is hunched into his coat looking bored. This son of a bitch isn’t expecting death tonight, but death has finally come. I am already behind him when he realises something is wrong. My hand clamps over his mouth as I pull him backward into the shadow of the wall. He struggles against me but it is weak.

He might be fighting for his life, but I am fighting for love.

I drag him back into the deeper shadow of the porch. One hand is still pressed against his mouth as the other hooks hard beneath his jaw. His body surges as his boots scrape uselessly against wet stone and his hot ash breath punches against my palm. I don’t hesitate.

I wrench.

It isn’t clean like films make it look. There’s resistance. You have to rip through muscles, tendons and bones. The human body does not want to break, it wants to protect and I feel the effort travel up my arms and into my shoulders as I force the rotation past where it should ever go. A dull, sickening crack splits the air between us, followed by the heavy slack of something vital giving way.

He shudders once. Twice. Then nothing.