Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Harlow’s face goes even paler. “You have to tell him, and you have to tell him now. We can fight about the fact you met her last night and didn’t say a single damn thing to us later. If Abel dies, we won’t be able to fight about anything at all.”
If Abel dies.
If Abel dies.
Funny how the idea shocks me to my very core. Funny since a few days ago, I wanted him dead for what he’d taken from me, for what I assumed he’d done to Harlow. Or not so funny at all, because the thought of the world without Abel in it leaves me dizzy with fear. “He can’t die.”
“He’s human. He’s just as vulnerable to death as the rest of us.” She says it so calmly. “There’s also a chance they’ll use the opportunity to strike the compound instead. I have to find Broderick and tell him.”
“Yes.” Of course she’d see the possible moves just as easily as I do. Harlow’s always been more capable than I’ve allowed her to be. We stare at each other for a moment more and then simultaneously burst into action.
Harlow runs into the closet while I pull on the clothes I was wearing last night. By the time I yank my shoes on, she emerges wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “Find Abel. Tell him the truth.”
“I will.” Even if it breaks the fragile trust that’s bloomed between us. I can live with that as long as he lives. With each minute that passes, I become surer that this is when Marie will direct her team to strike. Old Town might have agreed to Abel’s terms, but they won’t move to defend him if he’s attacked on their street. Hell, they wouldn’t move to defend me even after five years of ruling this faction because Old Town doesn’t give a fuck about anything but Old Town.
Harlow and I part ways at the door. She heads toward the hall where Broderick and some of the other Brides are staying, and I rush to the stairs and down to the main floor. The house isn’t exactly quiet, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to be too late.
That I’m already too late.
I catch sight of a familiar figure near the front door. I haven’t seen him since Lammas, but I’d recognize Gabriel Paine anywhere. He used to follow me and Abel around when he was just a little kid. Fuck, we used to essentially babysit him. I shove the thought away. “Gabriel.”
He tenses, and his expression is unreadable as he turns to face me. “Eli.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“You’re supposed to be in your room.”
Obviously Abel hasn’t updated the rest of the household on our new status, not that I blame him, but it’s slowing me down right now, and I don’t have time for this shit. I don’t hesitate, stalking to Gabriel and grabbing him by his collar. “Listen to me, you little shit. Abel is in danger, and I need to get to him right now. Where the fuck is he?”
Gabriel sinks a punch into my stomach. Even bracing for it, it knocks the breath out of me. He breaks my hold on his shirt and steps back. “If you ever touch me again without my permission, I’ll fucking kill you.”
I nod and draw in a rough breath. “Where is your brother?”
“Old Town. He left fifteen minutes ago.”
Gabriel definitely pulled his punch, but my stomach still feels like it’s lodged in my chest. “Harlow has all the info. She’s looking for Broderick.”
“Then she has it covered.” Gabriel turns to the door. “Let’s go.”
Alarm flares. “You’re not coming with me.” I used to change this kid’s diapers. It doesn’t matter if he’s twenty-eight now. When he was five, he couldn’t say his Ls well and called me Ee-eye. If I take him and he gets killed, I’ll never be able to live with myself.
“You seem to think you have any say in the matter.” Gabriel pulls a phone out of his pocket and types out a quick message. “If you pull some shit, my brothers will know.”
Which means he just texted them all. Good. I eye his phone. “Any chance of getting Abel on the phone?”
“No. He doesn’t check it when he’s doing business. And Cohen’s shit at texting, so he just ignores the group chat.” Gabriel shakes his head. “Let’s go.”
Arguing will just waste further time. Maybe it’s paranoia that has the voice in the back of my head screaming that every second counts, but I’m not willing to ignore it. “Okay.”
We grab a truck from the parking lot of the compound, and Gabriel climbs behind the wheel. “If you’re trying—”
“Stop threatening me, and hurry the fuck up. My former head of security has at least twelve people organizing an assault on your brother. How many people did he take with him?” I don’t believe in the gods, but I find myself praying as Gabriel takes the turn out of the compound on two wheels. Surely Abel was as smart and paranoid in this as he’s been about everything else up to this point.