Unmasking Shadows (Chapter 4)

Calax

Ihated the smell of blood.

There were very few things I hated...well...that was a lie. I hated a shit ton of stuff.

Slow walkers, fucking picnics on the beach, painting...oh and assholes who liked to beat the shit out of me.

My head was tossed backwards with the force of the blow, but I kept my grin firmly in place. It seemed to piss the assholes off - the knowledge that they couldn't break me. They could try, but I had something they only wished they had.

Literally.

"Where is she?" Punch. Blood drizzled down my chin, the taste of copper heavy on my tongue. The man, whose name I'd discovered was Gabriel, pulled his fist back once more.

"Enough," a soft, succulent voice said followed by the clatter of high heels. Bitch stepped into the room they had designated as mine, arms folded over her chest. Of course, that wasn't her real name, but it was the name I had given her in my head.

Addie was apparently rubbing off on me.

The dumb bitch had tried to seduce me when I had first arrived - as if a mediocre face could ever turn me against Addie. As if any face could turn me against my love. A part of me thought she was still pissed that her feminine wiles hadn't worked on me or some shit like that. Either way, she loved to be present for my "interrogation sessions."

Read as: torture sessions.

They may have healed me from the Ragers' attack, but they were determined to break me. What they failed to realize was that I was unbreakable.

Fucking assholes.

"Are you going to tell us where she is?" Bitch asked, kneeling to face me. She tried to look sympathetic, but it came across more like a grimace. She moved to touch my face, but I jerked away. Blood rushed to my ears, the movement causing my head to pound, but it was worth it to see the shock on her face. That shock was quickly replaced by a blistering anger, hot enough to destroy this room.

She pulled her hand back and slapped me square across the face. This time, I barely even moved, refusing to break eye-contact with the horrid woman. I wanted her to see me when she inflicted pain. I wanted her to see the resolve in my eyes, the determination.

I would die before these bastards got their hands on Adelaide.

Through the metaphysical grapevine, I had discovered that these were the assholes that had helped Liz kidnap Ryder and Addie. The deal had been simple: Liz could have her fun with them, but Addie was not to be killed. Harmed, yes. Mutilated, also yes. But killed? That was a hard no by the powers that be.

I still hadn't garnered why. Why Addie? What did they want with her?

Turning away from me, Bitch looked up at Gabriel.

"He's here," she said. Each word was clipped, acid practicallyoozingfrom her pores. Aw. She was still pissed that I had rejected her. Poor bitchy thing.

And then her words registered.

I focused on their conversation fully, eagerly lapping up every snippet of information they seemed so inclined to share.

"Shit." Was I mistaken, or did Gabriel look worried? Whoever this "he" was scared the shit out of both Bitch and Gabriel. He probably should've scared me as well, but instead I felt something that resembled relief. Maybe I could finally figure out what the hell was going on.

The only conclusion: Addie's parents were looking for her. It would explain the manpower, their penchant for violence, the fear emanating from my two tormentors. I just couldn't figure out why. Were they that desperate for a punching bag?

The thought of her vile parents getting their hands on my girl filled me with rage unlike anything I had ever felt before.

I would die before they even caught a glimpse of her.

Gabriel, after one more ineffectual punch at my face, hurried out of the room to greet this mysterious person. Bitch remained for a moment longer, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"This all would've been easier if you would've accepted my offer," she said snidely, and I couldn't help but snort. As if I would forget Addie and fuck her instead.

She was lucky I didn't name her Dumb Bitch.

Kind of pathetic she had to resort to blackmail and bribery in order to get laid, if you asked me.

When I merely glared at her, trembling with barely suppressed rage, she huffed and stomped out of the room.

And then the waiting game began. I knew, as surely as I knew that the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Adelaide was fucking crazy, that the big honcho would come check in on me. Maybe throw a few punches himself. Oh, he wouldn't want to. Not at first. He probably would've preferred for his identity to remain a secret, but desperation made men do strange things.

And this man? He was desperate.

So I waited.

* * *

Addie

Sunlight penetrated the kitchen, catching on dust particles floating stagnant in the air. My nerves were frayed, tension peaked, as I waited with bated breath for the guys to finalize the plan.

I had wanted nothing more than to charge into the identified house, guns blazing (well, vagina blazing), but Asher had insisted we consult with the others.

Make sure it wasn't a trick. After all, there were still people after us, after me, for reasons unknown.

I tapped my foot impatiently as Ronan and Ryder talked over the map. The coordinates on the wall led to a small neighborhood only an hour away.

I was desperate to see Fallon and Declan again, to see with my own eyes that they were okay.

I wanted to hold Tommy and hear him reprimand me for swearing. Ironic, considering he swore every other word.

And Nik…

There had been no indication at my brother's house whether or not he had been rescued by the others. For all I knew, he could be...the d-word. I didn't want to even mentally think it, as if thinking it would somehow make it true.

The clenching on my heart grew until it was nearly unbearable. Run to them. Run to them. Run to them.

"You okay, Kitten?" Ryder asked, pulling me into an embrace. I softened against him instantly.

"No," I admitted hoarsely. "What if it's not them? What if it's a trap? What if they had already left? What if they're injured or...you know. The other thing. The d-word. What if they don't want to see me? Oh god. They probably found a bunch of beautiful models and fell in love and had babies and-"

"Shhh." Ryder put his finger to my lips, and I broke off in mid-ramble. I knew my fears were valid, but I also knew they were illogical, at least the last few. Fallon had confessed his love to me during our last conversation, and I knew Ducky felt strongly for me too. I didn't know if that strong feeling was the same love I felt for him or something more platonic. Either way, I knew they would be waiting for me.

It was decided that Kai and Doc would remain behind and hold down the fort, so to speak. I wouldn't be surprised if they grabbed all of our belongings and ran.

After a quick goodbye, we began the hour long journey to the neighborhood.

I don't remember what was said during the drive. All I remember was a restless energy pushing me forward.

By the time night fell, we had arrived in front of a tiny brick home. Candles flickered through the front window, but I couldn't make out anything inside. Not that we were that close. Always on the side of caution, we chose to park a few houses over, the headlights off and the running car silent.

"We'll go first," Ronan said, indicating his brother and himself. Ryder nodded his head, eyes already trained on the unassuming house.

I opened my mouth to protest, but quickly closed it. I learned that it was futile to argue with them when they got in macho, protective mode.

As one, the brothers slipped out either side of the car, stealthily moving towards the house, practically blending in with the shadows. They were good, I would give them that.

"Addie," Tam began gently. "You're shaking the whole car." He put a restraining hand on my leg to stop the fidgeting limb.

"Sorry," I whispered back. "I'm just so fucking nervous I might piss my pants."

"No pants pissing is allowed in my car," Asher said sternly. His lips twitched to show me he was joking. "Pants shitting is allowed though."

"Weirdo." But his words had the desired reaction from me. The tension abated from my body as suddenly as it appeared. I trusted Ronan and Ryder to find our men, the two missing parts of our family, and bring them back to us.

I had to believe that they would still be here. I had to. The alternative was too awful to think about.

I watched in rapt fascination as Ryder and Ronan disappeared around the back of the house, shadows eating them up. Swallowing them whole.

I could feel each heartbeat pounding against my rib cage. It wasn't the standard ba-dum, but a flurry of activity as thousands of butterflies threatened to break free. I couldn't quite understand this emotion.

It wasn't hope, not really, but something else. Something deeper and more intense that caused goosebumps to pepper over my skin. My leg moved anxiously, jerking up and down, up and down. My unease seemed to be physically manifesting itself; I couldn't stay still. Couldn't breathe.

My mind conjured up images of Fallon and Declan.

Fallon's golden brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, his eyes trained intensely on me. It had once been unnerving to have that undivided attention on me, but now I couldn't imagine life without it. Without him.

Declan's brown hair, longer on the top and shorter on the sides. The perpetual smirk etched onto his face. Those eyes of his that tracked my every movement.

"They'll be here," Tamson said, glancing at me from the driver's seat. I didn't know if he was trying to convince me or himself.

I willed myself to calm down, but my heart continued to battle with, race against, my thoughts.

Deep breaths.

In.

And out.

In.

And out.

In.

The passenger side door opened, and I was wrenched out of my seat, dropping unceremoniously onto the asphalt. I scrambled to my feet, but rough hands jerked me against a soft chest. Tamson shouted, unbuckling and crawling over the center console. Asher was already out of the car, gun raised and aimed at the intruder.

I felt something cold press against my neck.

A knife, I realized dizzily.

I was so damn tired of being held at knifepoint.

"Lower your weapons," a voice said coldly. It was low and raspy, but the feminine lilt was undeniable.

Another figure emerged from the shadows pointing a gun at Asher's head. My blond-haired lover tensed, but he refused to lower his own gun. The tension in the air was almost palpable, waves of electricity setting my skin ablaze.

Tamson didn't have a weapon, but his fists were raised. Tam was a skilled mixed martial artist, and I had no doubt he would be a deadly foe against even the worst of weapons.

"Drop your knife," Asher countered. Dark. Deadly. Dangerous.

Sexy.

Not the time, kinky bitch.

A third figure marched forward, and Tamson shifted his attention to him.

"Lower your fucking weapons," the new man said gruffly. He had a hint of an accent in his voice, but I couldn't discern from where.

Asher, Tam, and I all exchanged looks as we weighed our options. On one hand, I trusted my men's skills to get us out of this situation. On the other, I wasn't sure even Asher, as skilled as he was with a gun, could put a bullet in between my captor's eyes before the knife cut skin.

The fight didn't drain from their eyes, both men were too proud and pissed for that, but Asher reluctantly lowered his gun to the ground as Tam dropped his fists. They practically radiated rage, an incandescent flame burning hotly beneath the surface. The flame would lead to an inferno, a wildfire, I knew, if we didn't get out of this situation.

But I was tired, so damn tired, of being the damsel in distress. First Liz, and then the asshole who shot me. Never again.

As the woman holding me loosened her arms, deeming the threat as over, I pushed my body back, remembering in vivid detail all of the training sessions I partook in with my guys. The back of my head rammed into her face, and she let out an anguished cry, dropping her knife.

In the span of seconds, I had the knife picked up and pressed to her throat. A strange sound emitted from the back of her throat, a combination of amusement and horror, as I dug the keen tip into her fleshy neck.

To the strange men - and from their bulkier builds, I determined they were, in fact, men - I said, "Lower your fucking weapons."

They resisted, at first, eyes flaring defiantly. From this angle, I could see that they were older, probably in their mid-thirties. Their gazes flickered from me, to the knife, and then to the woman I was holding. As one, they dropped their weapons to the ground.

Asher and Tamson immediately picked them up, aiming them at the two men's heads.

"Funny how the tides change, isn't it?" I whispered darkly into the bitch's ear. She growled in response.

Yes, funny indeed.