Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
He unplugged the phone from the charging cable and walked to another spot in the loft with the phone held up, trying to see if he could pick up a signal. But no bars appeared. That was strange.
Sighing, Fox lowered the phone. It was annoying but not a big deal. The phone was still connected to Winter’s Wi-Fi signal. He could send him an internet-based message, telling him he didn’t have a cell signal.
As he opened the app, there was a loud pop a heartbeat before all the lights went out. Darkness blanketed the loft. The low hum of white noise created by the refrigerator and air conditioning went silent.
A power outage too?
No.
Fox’s heart skipped a beat. There was no way he had no cell signal and the power went out at the same time. This was bad. Very fucking bad.
Tucking the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Fox turned toward Winter’s office. The vampire had shown him his massive cabinets of weapons. He needed something to protect himself; his magic wasn’t strong enough yet.
The windows to his left exploded inward, throwing shards of glass across the room and knocking Fox to the floor. Shit! They were already moving against him. Fucking Damon! He’d been worried about Damon attacking Winter and Aiden at the meeting. Both he and Winter had been sure Damon didn’t know where the loft was located.
Two metallic objects flew through the window and bounced on the floor a couple of times before rolling. A low hiss filled the room and Fox’s eyes started to burn. Tear gas? These fuckers were launching tear gas at him.
Coughing and blinking furiously against a rush of tears, he pulled his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose as he crawled toward Winter’s office. Glass cut into the palms of his hands and bit into his knees through his jeans. His heart hammered in his chest, trying to break free. Fox didn’t blame it. He wanted the hell out of there too.
He made it to the office before the pounding on the door started. Someone got their hands on a battering ram. The air was a little clearer in the office. Fox furiously wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, trying to clear his vision enough that he could see the weapons lockers.
Kneeling at the first one, he willed his hands to stop shaking but wasn’t having much luck. He had to get a weapon and find a way out of Winter’s place. If he could get out, then he could get to Rafe’s penthouse. It was the closest safe place he knew of. Winter would look for him at Rafe’s.
He grabbed the thick lock with both hands and closed his eyes. It had a biosensor. Because of course it did. Winter had the most advanced security tech, which unfortunately didn’t do much good against someone decked out like a fucking SWAT team.
But the sensor didn’t matter.
The lock was mechanical. He could do this.
He was Fox. Good with locks.
Blocking out the noise of the invaders and the bite of the tear gas, Fox focused on the pool in his mind. That cool blue pool that looked just like Winter’s eyes. He stepped into it and imagined the little mechanical bits of the lock moving. All the teeth and gears realigning until—Click!
The lock gave in Fox’s hand. He swallowed a relieved sob as he ripped the lock off the cabinet and pushed to his feet. After pulling both doors open, he grabbed his cell phone and turned on the flashlight so he could see what he had at his disposal. There were a lot of guns. A scary shit-ton of guns and Fox didn’t have a clue how to use them.
Oh, he got the basic point-and-squeeze-the-trigger function, but which ammo? How did he load it? Where was the safety? Did it even have a safety?
Fuck. Now was not a good time to figure that out.
Luckily, Winter also possessed a scary number of knives. A knife he understood. Just stab with the pointy end or slice with the sharp edge.
And there was a black bat. Slightly bigger than a baton, but smaller than a baseball bat. That was even easier to manage.
His stomach churned at the idea of using any of these weapons on a living creature, but he’d do it if it meant staying alive and getting to Winter. He grabbed several knives, tucking them into pockets and attaching those in holders to the waistband of his jeans. Next, he grabbed the bat and checked that his shirt was still secure over his face.
The front door slammed inward, banging against the wall. Lovely. His attackers had finally arrived to make this a real party. Fox sidled over to the open doorway and peered into the living room. The people were little more than black shadows moving through the loft, only the soft crunch of glass under their feet. He watched as two were directed up the stairs to the second floor while three more fanned out across the main floor, searching for him.