Chapter 35

Consciousness returns in a painful pulse of red, from floating in space to achingly aware of the hard floor beneath my battered body. But I resist the pain, remembering what got me here.

Jericho.

Bella!

I turn over to my knees, and I lay my head on the floor, fighting back waves of nausea as my body reminds me of the abuse it’s taken. I don’t know how long I’ve been out. All I can do is pray Bella listened and drove like a bat out of hell back to Goldstone Tower.

But the gnawing unease in my belly knows she didn’t do that. My princess wouldn’t leave me, would instead give her all to save me because that’s who she is, what she does. She gives everything to everyone while she’s the one struggling or in danger.

The fear buoys me, helping me get to my feet even as the world continues to swim in lazy circles. Staggering, I make my way to the doorway, where I lean against the frame for a moment before my eyes start to cooperate and I can see straight again. With a deep breath, I step outside, my heart stopping in my chest at what I see.

Thomas’s white truck sits in the driveway right where I left it, letting me know that Bella didn’t speed away. More damning, though, is the open driver’s side door, hanging wide like a one-winged avian harbinger of doom.

I already know it in my gut, but I run to the truck anyway. The truth won’t let me pretend, though. Bella is gone.

The last vestiges of my illusion disappear as I see the nest of wires underneath the steering column and the keys still dangling uselessly from the ignition. He cut the wires... I’d left the door unlocked in case we needed to haul ass, but he’d used that against us, cutting the wires.

Jericho’s good... and now he has her in his grasp.

I slam my fist into the door panel, denting it, but the fresh pain helps me focus. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my Leatherman and reach further down the wires, finding what I need to hotwire the truck before climbing in. I drive back to Goldstone Tower as fast as the truck will go, but the elevator to the penthouse feels excruciatingly slow, even if it’s a direct ride.

Stealth isn’t a consideration now, I don’t care if everyone from the security guards to the Mayor sees me. Only one man in town would have the connections to hire Jericho, and right now speed is of utmost importance. There’s no telling what sick things Jericho is doing to my Princess even in this very moment.

“Thomas!” I bellow as I come off the elevator.

I’m typically a lone huntsman in my line of work, but I’m not so arrogant as to ignore the resources at hand. And I’ll do anything to get Bella back. Especially since I have means as extensive and as dedicated as Thomas and Mia available to me.

Thomas comes out of the back wearing boxer briefs, with Mia hustling behind him. A quick glance shows me I’ve probably interrupted a little couple time, but I’m not here to compare swords with Thomas. Nor am I interested in Mia’s body, although he shoves her behind him anyway. As if I’m looking at her when I have Bella.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asks me as soon as he sees my face. “What the fuck happened to you? Where’s Izzy?”

“He took her,” I snarl, my eyes clouded with rage. “That bastard.”

“What? No!” Mia gasps in shock.

“It was a setup,” I reply, nursing my aching jaw. “We were getting ready to leave when he jumped us. I told Bella to run, but...”

I haven’t lost my cool in years, not since Jeremy’s death, but I’m a hairsbreadth away from torching the whole fucking city and Mia’s trembling like a fall leaf in a windstorm with what I’ve already said. Thomas stays cool and collected though, all business as he calms the situation.

“Sit, tell us what happened,” he says.

I don’t sit, needing to pace, but Thomas forces a small shot of scotch in my hand, saying, “It’ll help.” I toss it back and then manage to relay the story of us taking precautions to go check out Bella’s house, how Jericho had been lying in wait for us, the fight and then the empty truck, with Bella nowhere to be found.

Mia gives off a single sob at the end when I tell them about the cut wires, the detail somehow convincing her more than me getting my ass kicked that Jericho is for real.

“What do we do?” Mia asks as she regains control of herself. “Call the police?”

Thomas and I lock eyes, and I know we’re thinking the same thing. “No police,” I reply, gripping the edge of the countertop. “I’ll get her back.”

Mia’s eyes widen, looking from me to Thomas. “What? She’s been kidnapped. We need to call the police.”

I know that I’m about to piss off Thomas, but I need to make sure we’re all on the same page here. “Mia, do you understand what I do, who I am? Because I’m going to get Bella back, and I do not want police anywhere near this when I do it. This is going to get ugly, fast.”

Mia gasps, and Thomas’ eyes are tight, but they seem to fully grasp my intentions now, which was my point. Thomas blinks his agreement and I continue.

“This man, Jericho, he has her now, under contract for sure. He’s the sadistic type who enjoys his work and has no code other than completing a job. Bella will be like a shiny new toy to him, something to play with and test out her limits.”

I swallow thickly, the thought making my stomach roil.

“You know him?” Thomas asks. “Personally?”

“No,” I reply with a shake of my head, “only of him and his work. We’re, well I guess you’d say we’re competitors for the same contracts. But I’m careful about the jobs I accept. For Jericho, it’s not about the money or making someone pay for a wrongdoing, it’s about sanctioned brutality.”

“And he’s got Izzy?” Mia sighs, rubbing at her streaked hair. “What can we do?”

“I need your brains and your computers,” I tell Mia bluntly. “I need intel.”

Thomas raises an eyebrow even as Mia nods, her eyes setting firmly. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but he did get the drop on you. You sure you don’t need help, backup of some sort?”

I shake my head, looking Thomas in the eye. “No. And this isn’t up for debate, Thomas. I’m not taking you with me. While you might handle yourself just fine in a bar fight, you’re dealing with a trained killer here. This is the point where guys like you hire guys like me. And I need to do this job alone.”

Mia takes Thomas’s hand, solidifying my decision. Thomas needs to stay here for Mia because to some degree, this is still about them, pawns being sacrificed to weaken the King and Queen. Thomas looks at Mia, then back at me. “I fucking hate this.”

“I know. And I appreciate the offer, but I can do this. I just have to figure out where he took her.”

“Then let’s get to work,” Mia says, her eyes narrowing as she disappears into the back. She comes out a minute later in some yoga pants and the same shirt before throwing a pair of sweats to Thomas. “My office will be faster.”

Mia’s basement office is a shrine to all things computer nerdy, and she puts her three displays to work, pulling data as quickly as she can type.

By the time the clock on the wall ticks midnight, we’re looking over detailed maps of Roseboro, calculating possible hideout points where Jericho might’ve taken Bella. Mia’s a machine, correlating tax records, population density, police coverage, and more, but even with all of that, there are simply too many possibilities.

“Seven,” Mia says, hitting Print on her machine. “It’s... it’s the best I can do, Gabriel. If I had—”

“You reduced my load from thousands to seven,” I reassure her. “If I have to, I’ll—”

That’s when we catch a break of the worst sort. My phone dings with an incoming text. It’s my burner phone. Only one man, and Bella, have that particular number.

I open it and anger flashes hot and bright-white in my veins. It’s a picture of Bella, her hands zip-tied to a chair, her head lolling to the side. Is she dead or unconscious?

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Thomas asks, his jaw clenching as I show them the picture and Mia cries out softly. Underneath the picture is an address, and I note with some satisfaction that it’s on Mia’s list of seven properties.

The final words are the only possible hope. ‘Come and get her’ blinks on and off, with a grinning, laughing animated emoji.

He’s enjoying this. The fucker is getting off on torturing her and taunting me.

I stand. “I have to go.”

“It’s a trap, you know that,” Thomas says, surprisingly reasonable under pressure. “And you don’t know anything about the building.”

“I know, but this is my fault,” I reply. “I have to save her.”

Mia’s brows crinkle and she wipes at her eyes. “Your fault? It’s not your fault there’s a fucking madman with a weird hard-on for hurting Thomas.”

“I knew something was off about this contract from the beginning. It’s why I delayed,” I admit with a shake of my head. “I should’ve never taken her from the safety of this penthouse tonight, but I was weak. And while Blackwell wants to hurt her to get at you, Jericho is definitely taking satisfaction in doing this to me.”

Thomas’s voice is deep, controlled. “You said you didn’t know him personally.”

“I don’t, but I can judge the man by . . . by the way he kills, if that makes sense. My guess is, Jericho’s contract is for both Bella and me, because Blackwell will not take kindly to my defection from our deal. But either Jericho or Blackwell, or maybe both, want me to suffer. I was unconscious on the floor, Jericho could’ve just taken me out then, walked outside and double tapped Bella, and the job would’ve been done. But he didn’t.”

I imagine that scenario, my Bella splayed out in the grass, dead in the dark night, and pray that whatever Jericho’s doing to her now doesn’t make a quick and easy death a preferable, peaceful option.

I think about what I know of Jericho. Despite his sadism, and his reputation for cruelty, he’s also known for his detailed planning and precise execution. It’s why he’s often hired to extract information, because by the time he’s done having his fun, his victims will spill their guts just to get a final release from the pain he’s put them through. Though sometimes he’s hired simply for the torture aspect, no information needed, his depravity simply providing a painful death to the target of his contract.

Evil. That’s the only word to describe him.

“Gabriel?” Mia asks, and I clear my throat.

“We’re not friends, or even colleagues, but there’s a certain level of respect given to other pros. By taking the contract against me, he’s saying that I’ve betrayed the profession, and he’ll want to back it up. But he wants to draw this out for his own pleasure, torment me by getting at Bella. That’s the only reason he would’ve taken her and left me, to make it hurt because he’s a cruel bastard. And once he’s had his fun, he’ll kill us both to complete his contract.

I say it matter-of-factly because if I’m going to make this work, I have to get in touch with the cold, heartless side of me again. Discussing hits for hire is par for the course for that part, even though this contract is as different as can be.

But Thomas and Mia look horrified at my casual discussion of death.

“Oh, my God, I’m going to be sick,” Mia says, her hand covering her mouth. Thomas rubs her back soothingly.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I can,” I say at the door. “Mia, if you can, I need you by the phone, ready to send me information.”

“I can do you one better,” Thomas says, reaching over and swiping a tablet computer from a docking station next to Mia’s desk. “This is tied to her systems, a little gadget we worked up for business trips. She types it, it’ll pop on your screen.”

“Good... then I need any information you can gather in the next ten minutes,” I reply. “Video feeds, traffic cams, anything. And I’d suggest you stay here. If Blackwell is escalating, who knows if he still considers you off limits.”

Thomas purses his lips, nodding. “I’m trusting you to take care of Izzy. You can trust me to handle Blackwell.”

“If I fail... turn this place into a fortress,” I advise him. “At least until you can get out of town.”

The drive to the address Jericho gave me is quiet, the tablet beeping from time to time as Mia sends me information. I use every beep as a chance to separate myself, to shut down my humanity and to become the cold, relentless killer I know is inside me. My emotions close off, my heart slows, and my blood ices.

I become the Fallen Angel once again.

No... I must become more. Or is it less? More monster, less man, more evil, less salvageable.

Because tonight, I cannot stop. Not until Jericho is dead.

I only hope that I can come out the other side of tonight with Bella and my soul intact.